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[sangeetainternational]

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[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

[Starship Icarus] IV

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: Mills finally meets his sleepin' gal.

WC: ~5.8K

*

You woke up as if from a grumpy nap as a child. Had you been a teenager, you would have rolled over, wrapping your blanket around you like a burrito and asked for five more minutes. Followed by trying to sleep for an hour or more.

The screen rose into view as your pod tilted. Your body gradually became accustomed to weight and gravity again, in a way that made you aware of the endless vessels carrying fluids all throughout the landscape of your flesh. You shuddered at the sensation and only listened to the voice greeting you and guiding you out of stasis without opening your eyes.

“We have nearly completed the voyage from Earth to Homestead II, where you begin your exploratory mission. Homestead II is the second planet outside Earth’s solar system to be colonized and the first in the Bhakti system to be explored,” she spoke in her serene, mechanical voice and you started testing out your newly awakened body. Deep breath, balling up a fist, swallow, blink, neck pop. The pod, cracked open like an egg from which you were meant to hatch, wheeled you to the door.

“…the Icarus is on final approach. For the next four months, you’ll enjoy space travel at its most luxurious.” You huffed an unimpressed little laugh and you were satisfied your contrariness was intact after a century in deathlike-sleep.

“…let’s get you to your cabin where you can get some rest.”

*

You remained in your cabin only long enough to follow the protocol, drink some resurrection juice and receive your luggage. It was nice and spacious in there, and you were gratified your Moroccan leather pouf was already waiting. You could immediately tell you’d be taking it easy and resting for a day or two until you were feeling more like yourself. A relaxing bout of reading with your feet up on the pouf and some fragrant tea steaming in a mug sounded heavenly.

As soon as you were out of your stasis gown and dressed in your own clothes, you went out in search of the other passengers. It was a little eerie to be alone, with only holos and machines for company.

“Hello?” you called out softly, voice still croaky from disuse. “Anybody around?” you asked casually, not wanting to come across as too eager or discombobulated. Silly thing to worry about in the face of colonizing a new planet.

A figure of a tall man shimmered behind a fountain and you stopped for a moment. Still groggy, you wondered if you weren’t just seeing weird shadows. Surely, the polite thing would have been to respond if he’d seen you. “Hi?” you offered, prepared to feel silly if you’d just greeted a mechanical ficus or a waylaid coat rack.

“Hi,” he responded in a gravelly voice and finally came fully into view as you passed the fountain. You watched each other in silence for a few moments. On your end, you were trying not to give him blatant elevator eyes or burst into girlish giggles. He looked right out of superhero central casting, the kind of ruggedly good-looking that was reserved for Brawny man commercials and bodice-ripper front covers.

Gingerly, as if he might scare you off, he took a few tentative steps closer. You did the same and stopped when there was a friendly, but polite distance left between you. “Are you passenger or crew?”

“Passenger. Julian Mills,” he was looking at you without blinking. He was probably just as disoriented as you.

You gave him your name and extended a hand. Julian looked at it oddly. It felt like offering a starving man a juicy steak. When he took it, his hand large and pleasantly warm, he held it for a long moment.

“I didn’t see anyone else from my row wake up yet. What about yours?” you asked, still more sleepwalking than awake. He stopped shaking your hand, but still held it.

“Same on my end.”

Thoughts were slow to crawl through the fog of your brain. It was increasingly frustrating to feel yourself sluggishly process information that should be received instantly. “The crew is supposed to wake up a month before we do,” you observed, looking around, somehow already knowing you wouldn’t find anyone else. The reassuring sheath of his hand around yours slipped away as you twisted around.

*

God, she was quick on the uptake. It had taken Mills hours and a long bout of sleep to even get his brain working again. She was quick and smart and beautiful. And he loved her so much already.

“I haven’t seen anybody else so far,” she added, confused, but hopeful.

His heart squeezed guiltily. He knew living with his actions would be difficult, but it felt worse in ways he could not have anticipated. “The crew is still asleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, ma’am.”

“Miss,” she corrected and he wanted to smile at that. It was the snippy tone he recognized from before and his chest melted like honey. “That makes me feel ancient.”

“Miss.”

“Um, back to the topic at hand,” she still felt loopy and it showed. “Who’s going to land the ship? We’re arriving in a few weeks.”

To make short work of it, Mills took her to the observatory. The same little panorama showing how screwed they were informed her of their whereabouts, now approximately two years closer to Homestead II than when he was there the first time.

“The others aren’t late waking up,” he said when he saw the same rejection in her expression that he felt initially. “We’re early.”

Her mind was beautifully clear and logical, so he led her down the same path he stumbled down many months before, without even needing to suggest the next steps. He battled with feeling impressed and smitten, and having to watch emerging hopelessness and panic grip the woman he loved.

The crew were in their inaccessible area, messages took decades to travel to and fro, it was impossible to break into key areas, impossible to get back into the pods.  

Finally panic set it and he let her run off, in search of her pod. He gave her time, appreciating that she would want to have whatever breakdown was to ensue privately. It was the smallest bit of decency he could afford her.

When he eventually decided he should look in on her, she was still looking for a way back in feverishly. He indulged her, letting her try to convince him there had to be a way, as desperate and incoherent as she was being. He would spend the rest of his life happily paying penance now that she was with him, indulging her until his dying breath.

He led her past the wreckage in front of her crew room, where he had been unsuccessfully trying to break in with every implement he could think of. She agreed to take a seat in and some deep breaths, a sedative if need be. He half carried her as she slumped into his side, knees wobbly from over-excitement. She paused and took in the marks of a labor than had clearly gone on for months.

“How long have you been awake?” she looked up at him and frowned. Realization sharpened her gaze and he looked for any signs of accusation, of pulling away. None yet, he was momentarily relieved.

“Close to two years.”

Her hand lifted to her lips in horror and he could swear she was about to cry.

“Come on, it’s right through here,” he secured a firm hold around the curve of her waist and directed her towards a lounging area of the Grand Concourse.

*

“You remember the facility you had to go to? Where they put you under? The procedure has to be done with special equipment, pretty much only in lab conditions. It’s multi-faceted and it takes a long time. There is no such equipment on the ship, or anyone with expertise to do it. The pods we were in are just designed to maintain stasis for a certain length of time and wake us up.”

She listened, despite all the effort it took, and Mills could see her try to stave off more fits. Her body was tightly coiled, rocking back and forth in a tiny orbit, teeth chewing anxiously on her thumbnail. She was quiet for a long time, occasionally shaking her head, in disbelief or refusal.

“I don’t want to condescend in any way, but I’ve been through what you’re feeling now. You should believe I’ve tried everything I could think of.”

“Two years…” she shook her head. Her eyes were full of pity when she looked at him again. He couldn’t stand to meet her earnest gaze for longer than a moment.

“You should sleep,” he suggested gently. “It will clear your head, I promise. You probably feel like it’s full of cotton wool now.” She wouldn’t confirm and he decided not to tell her anymore about what ‘she must be feeling’. “Drink that freaky pink stuff from the water dispenser, it’ll feel good. In the morning, you’ll… I can’t promise you’ll feel much better, but you’ll be more yourself.”

She was still too shocked to cry, as he had been at first, so she just looked defeated. Still, she stood up and opted for the correct corridor to make her way to her cabin, which was impressive.

“I can walk you to your cabin,” Mills suggested as casually as he could, even as his heart climbed into his throat and choked him. “The layout can be confusing,” he fumbled, losing confidence when she didn’t nod vigorously or give some other indication she wanted him. He should have just said I’m taking you - in fact, I’m also holding your hand. And I’ll be there first thing in the morning when you wake up.

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” she said out of some self-sufficient, considerate habit.

She didn’t want his company. He tried not to spiral out. Sure, she’ll want to process this unimaginable calamity. However, he would have given anything, anything at all, to have someone with him on that first day. God, that first night, how awful it was, in endless solitude. And there she was, bravely walking away, sure that she would find a way to fix it.

“Almost two years…” she repeated, this time in a sigh that made him weak. “I’m so sorry you were alone for so long. It must have been torture.”

“It was,” he choked out, wondering if his face looked as guilty as his thoughts.

She shared a convivial silence with him before surrendering to her exhaustion. “Goodnight.”

*

Mills knew he would not be getting a wink of sleep that night. His blood felt like stinging electricity in his veins, shocking as it pumped through him.

“What’ll it be, Mills?” Clyde greeted in his subdued way.

“The usual.”

“How’s yer day been?” he asked just to make conversation. Mills’ paranoid brain detected a non-existent tone of accusation.

Mills swished the bourbon for a long moment, gaze lost in some private distance. “You know I have the worst luck in the world?”

“How’s that?”

“My prom date broke her leg after I asked her out – never made it to actual prom. I once gave CPR to a guy who’d been in a car crash. He sued me for fracturing some of his ribs. The company I worked for was the only one in the colonization business, right up until I was supposed to embark on the first mission. Then they went under. The one woman I’ve been unable to get out of my head is right under in front of me, right under my nose forever… and I can’t get to her.”

Clyde countered with his own programmed backstory – how his pa lost his diamond, how his uncle Stickley was electrocuted, how his ma got sick after she got their daddy’ settlement, how his brother blew his knee out and ruined a promising sports career, how he lost his hand…

“She’s awake,” Mills interrupted the story he had heard many times before, half-compunction, half-defiance.

There was only one she Mills had mentioned in all these months, so Clyde did not need to ask for clarification. “Congratulations,” he offered and Mills stared back, face not displaying the usual markers of happiness or satisfaction around the eyes or mouth.

“That’s whatcha wanted,” Clyde prompted, as though Mills’ circuitry failed for a moment and he was trying to get it back on track.

Mills could have strangled him. For the crime of being completely right.

“Ya don’t look happy,” the bartender noted and waited for an explanation.

“Can androids keep secrets?” Mills asked, realizing he should have wondered about that much sooner.

“I dunno ’bout androids, but gentlemen can,” Clyde responded solemnly, “and I consider myself one.”

Mills nodded. “Don’t tell her.”

“Don’t tell her what?” Clyde asked back earnestly. To him, borrowing her pen and waking her out of stasis were probably on par and he needed explicit instructions as to what to keep from her.

“Don’t tell her that I woke her,” Mills hated saying it out loud. “Let me do it in my own time.”

“’Course,” Clyde agreed all too easily, blissfully bereft of morals.

*

What if she likes short blond dudes? Mills wondered as he lay sideways on his prison cot of a bed. Still wide awake, he had his hands folded behind his head, eyes staring unseeing into the creamy ceiling. Some Aryan ideal? Maybe a British accent? A long coke nail? A nipple ring? He could be as much not her type as she was perfectly his.

How long, then, before she was ready to give in? To touch him like he craved, even if she didn’t really like him at all? It seemed an inevitability, even if he hadn’t known, from the earliest memories as a boy breaking hearts on the playground, to his exploits as an adult, precisely the kind of effect he had on women. What a sick thought, and one he kept having despite himself, counting greedily down to it.

*

It had been years since you woke up crying. The last time had been from a nightmare when you were still a teen. You’d forgotten it was possible to wake up already sobbing and salty with tears.

That next morning, you’d arisen, implausibly, even more desperate and disconsolate. If it even was morning. If time was reckoned the same way out here, or reckoned at all. If it was, then it was inexorably ticking down to your death, hurtling towards you like those glittering, burning stars sprinkled around your charging ship, dragging you into oblivion and making your fleeting existence truly pointless.

*

“No hibernation pod has malfunctioned in thousands of interstellar flights,” the holo assured you.

“I’m telling you, mine has!”

“Hibernation pods are failsafe,” it responded contentedly and Julian recognized the same conversation he once had as he approached.

“And yet, I’m awake! What a conundrum, hm?” you planted your hands on your hips, as though scolding. He took in the pose and smiled sadly.

“Dumb machine,” you muttered when you realized you’d get nowhere with that piece of junk.

“Happy to help!”

You gave it the middle finger as you turned to leave and join Julian on the way to the mess hall.

*

Behind you, there was a failure with the greeter holo. Its blue light blinked erratically and powered down, the blue circles along its crescent base turning black as they died one by one. You were too frustrated to look back and Julian was too distracted by you. He walked up to your side, eyeing the small of your back and the swell of your ass under it, hand tingling with desire to rest.... on either one. He missed how the sphere flickered and shut down. Deep in the bowels of the ship, red letters flashed warnings on screens before guttering out. No burial was had and their ghosts were snatched piecemeal out of the ether by other systems, carrying on some of their work, while the other bits, both crucial and banal, stopped like broken clocks.

*

“Have you eaten?”

“No. And I could eat a horse,” she said unselfconsciously and he nodded.

“Gold class breakfast,” the dispenser announced when he was already seated. The unfamiliar pronouncement made him crane his neck curiously.

She carried over a tray laden with food and tucked into it as soon as she sat down. They ate in silence until she had to come up for air. It was then she noticed his soylent beige and black coffee. “Yeesh. I feel like a glutton,” she muffled, a big bite still filling out her cheeks.

He shrugged. He was enjoying the sight of her delighting in her meal too much to care about having the same gruel for the millionth day in a row. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just not a gold class passenger.”

“What?” she frowned and her hand shot up in front of her mouth in case some food came flying out. Mills was amused to see her eyes widen as the information soaked in. “No way! Are you kidding me? What is this wannabe class bullshit?” she was outraged and he ached at the fact that she could muster this emotion for him in the middle of all her turmoil.

He just shrugged again, trying not to grin around his spoon of bland soylent. He should have realized this revelation would incense her proletariat spirit.

“Have you been…eating just that? This whole time?” she tried to ask evenly, not to make him feel bad.

“For breakfast, yeah,” he said. It had been so long that he just couldn’t bother being upset about it anymore.

She, however, shot out of her seat. “Let me get you something! What do you want?” she entreated, flustered with the desire to do something kind for him. It was such a genuine compassionate act that guilt overwhelmed him again. What would she do if she knew, he wondered while she made her way over and examined the menu.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he protested half-heartedly. He had never been much of a fruit and veggie guy back home, but over a year in, he would take kale and rambutan and kumquat and fucking chard, just to remember how much he didn’t enjoy any of it.

She slid a tray heavy with food in front of him, from crispy bacon and hashbrowns, to scones and cut up papaya and dragon fruit, with some foamy coffee that smelled overly sweet. But he’d be damned if he didn’t down that odious concoction all the same.

He stabbed some dragon fruit with its Dalmatian dots embedded in the white flesh, chuckling at the sight.

“You like dragon fruit?” she asked, slowly recovering from her mortification.

“I hate it!” Mills proclaimed happily and popped it into his mouth.

*

During the day, and the next several ones, you kept suggesting different options. Checking out the infirmary, the cargo hold, the comms room, building your own pods…

We can’t do that, Julian would reply, or that didn’t work, I already did it, as he shot every idea down.

“You’re not even considering—” you snapped, losing the battle to frustration.

“I’ve considered all of it,” Julian assured, effortlessly patient. “I’ve tried it, I promise you. Everything you can think of, and then countless other things.”

He seemed ready to settle down and give into this trudge into the void. The mere thought of it made your pulse skyrocket and sent you hyperventilating.

“I’m not ready to give up,” you said unsteadily as your breath kept sliding out of your lungs without ever oxygenating you.

*

For the next few days, you consciously avoided Julian as you put your ideas into action. You tried and failed, just like he said you would.

Eventually, to keep yourself busy and try to make sense of some of your thoughts, you started keeping a log. Whether it would become a personal diary or a document you would try to submit in order to detail what happened to you and Julian to the company, you were not yet sure.

“Why did you do it?” you asked as you approached the desk where he tinkered with something that looked like half of a set of binoculars.

He looked up like a TV frozen on an uncanny distorted image.

“Join the mission,” you clarified as you pulled out the notes you’d been keeping for your log. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been thinking of making some notes… Not sure for what yet, but I was wondering if you’d let me interview you?”

“Sure,” he became warmer again and put down what he was working on without complaint. “But what do I have to say that would interest anyone?”

“You are the first hibernation failure in the history of space travel. The first recorded one, at least,” you added with your distrustful tone and he smiled at that. He really could be distractingly handsome and you had to consciously hold back from trying to tease out more of those rakish smiles. “That’s major news.”

“Mh,” he nodded, “I’d love to be regarded as the first and biggest failure in something,” he had a delightfully sardonic wit and you smiled for the first time in days.

“You’re not in bad company.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The Wright Brothers,” you supplied and he leaned his head side to side, weighing your words.

“Henry Ford, Albert Einstein...”

“You’re making me blush,” he gave a coy flick of the wrist, so at odds with his classical masculinity.

“Thomas Edison,” you added the last name that usually followed on that list.

“His fortune turned, I believe, when he started stealing,” he noted with a shrewd look on his face.

“Yeah. Forget that asshole,” you conceded.

“I take your point,” he said and added in a smaller voice, “it’s very kind of you.”

You interviewed him and learned not just about his life, but the hushed up history of the mission to Homestead II. Julian relayed how he was first advised to take a demotion, and after the company was almost bought out by some deranged South African autocrat rich off his parents’ blood diamond legacy, suddenly the old crew were no longer eligible. He also detailed the many months of solitude, replete with a vacillating mental state and copious misadventures. Although he didn’t pity himself or linger on the details, he was candid and you felt comfortable asking whatever question came into your head.

“And do you think you’ve, for lack of a better word, resigned yourself to this situation?” you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you asked that. You were too conflicted and that look would surely hurt him to see.

“I’m not entirely sure. A lot can happen in a day, let alone a year or a decade. So I can’t say I’m resigned. But I understand how it can seem that way to you,” he said kindly and waited until you looked back at him. “You don’t have to accept any of this. You’ve just woken up. It must be irreconcilable and unthinkable to you now—”

You shook your head. “I’m scared of accepting it, and doing it so effortlessly. It’s actually so much easier to give in than I anticipated. I expected... I had more fight in me than that.”

He leaned in closer, moving with urgency. “It’s not ab-,” he started passionately, but then rephrased, “I don’t’ think it’s about being brave or strong. You also need to see sense and recognize reality. And you seem to be… scarily good at that.”

You gave a bitter laugh. “Reality is something I can’t wrap my head around. To be traveling, until the end of my natural lifespan – which is effectively forever – and never arriving. I’ve never… conceptualized futility on such a stark level.”

Julian let the angst hang in the air, giving it the respect it demanded. Then he sighed and tried to approach you from another angle. “A wise android once told me that you shouldn’t get so hung up on where you’d rather be and squander the chance to enjoy where you are.”

You pursed your lips and considered.

“I’m sure it sounds like a platitude now, but it’s helped me in some ways over time.” Julian didn’t press for any answer or acceptance out of you, placidly returning to his work and sitting with you in companionable silence.

“Thank you,” you said after a while.

“What for?” he scoffed, sounding amused.

“For everything,” you didn’t want to embarrass him and enumerate all the small kindnesses and comforts he had provided to you as you woke up and realized the situation you were in.

It was obvious in his expression he did not think he had helped much. You hoped to change his mind. With any luck, he wouldn’t begrudge you avoiding him earlier.

“I should meet this Clyde,” you shifted to brighter topics, “he sounds like a character.” You had yet to meet the android bartender. Drinking or sitting in some simulacrum of a bar didn’t sound very appealing before, but you might as well check out more of the ship, you reasoned.

“Let’s go for a drink tonight, then,” Julian floated the idea. You couldn’t tell if he really was as nonchalant as he seemed, or if his eyes were trained on the object in his hands strategically, to give off that appearance.

You decided he probably wasn’t thinking of it as a date, but you could still feel the intent of him, filling the space around you. His presence, heavy and commanding, even when he didn’t mean to exert it over you.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you responded, suddenly preoccupied with your pad. You thought you felt him steal a glance as you looked away and it took great effort not to smile to yourself.

*

In her absence, Mills had noticed one of the little roombas repeatedly run into a corner as he walked by it on one of those lonely days. He didn’t think much of it. Its sensor could have broken or he himself could have been fucking with it too much out of sheer boredom that it somehow malfunctioned. After pondering whether he should bother trying to repair it, he decided not to since there were enough of those critters crawling around.

As they walked towards their cabins, through one of the pod rooms, he noticed two roombas rolling on as normal and was satisfied with his earlier decision.

“So now that all of this happened, do you still think sending large numbers of people on such missions is a good idea?” she probed. He was thinking about the same thing, watching them clustered together in their life-sustaining coffins.

“I think they would say yes,” he evaded the question, “you can’t categorize people into yes’s or no’s, ones and zeroes.”

“Homestead can. Into zeroes in its account.”

“I don’t dispute that. But you can’t know all these 5,000 people and their reasons to participate. Some of them could be very good.”

“Maybe so, but I know people at large really well. And I’m good at seeing when they’re being exploited.”

“But what about who they are? What drove them to be here? This guy?” he picked out a familiar face. “Can you tell anything about him? Is he a banker, teacher, or gardener?” he asked playfully and she accepted the challenge, peering over the lid.

He looked stern, with defined, robust features, austere even in repose. “Banker,” she guessed as he thought she would.

“Gardener.”

She frowned. “Probably gardens some gnarly, mean looking plants.”

“Madison, Donna, or Lola?” he covered the information plate on another pod and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Donna. That fits a redhead.”

“Madison.”

“No way!” she peeled his hand off and checked her name. It was true. Mills was grateful she took some time to look on, taking in her face and reading the information about her because he was still reeling from feeling her skin on his again. “Midwife,” she said wistfully and her face fell. “Right. Some babies are bound to be born up there.”

He could feel them both carefully avoid the other’s eyes. Babymaking was an unhelpful thought to linger on just then. “Another sucker selling a useful profession?” he guessed at her thoughts.

“No. I mean, yes, it’s useful. But I was just thinking… It’s silly. But it occurred to me how we probably would have been friends.”

“You think you can tell these things?” Mills asked, living and dying a hundred times in the space it took her to respond.

“Of course. You know these things instinctively. Call it what you want, intuition, ancestral wisdom, something you carry in your bones. We’re still humans, even if we’ve soared among the stars. We’d gravitate to each other,” she concluded and he felt lightheaded. “Besides, my grade school best friend was also named Madison,” she shrugged, “it would have been an easy point in her favor,” she tossed a smile over her shoulder and moved to keep going, but a glance to the pod next to Madison’s rooted her to the spot. He almost bumped into her and felt a cold sweat dew on his skin at the idea of touching so much of her body with so much of his.

“Alicia,” Mills sounded out her name. A-lee-see-a, he pronounced it in the correct Spanish way.

“I know her. She had a rather severe change of heart and wanted to stay back,” she double checked her information just to be sure.

“Why didn’t she?”

“I‘m not sure. I lobbied for her contract to be voided and for someone to be taken off the waiting list and take her place. But they decided not to for some reason.”

“Or she decided.”

“I don’t know… She seemed pretty adamant from what I’ve seen,” she huffed, still bothered by the situation. “It doesn’t seem right, you know? To make that decision for her. Force her into something she didn’t want.”

“It doesn’t,” he agreed and crossed his arms over his massive chest, determined not to fan the guilt her words ignited.

“You’d know all about that,” she muttered.

His heart stopped. “What?” he felt his shame was written plainly on his face when she turned to him.

“With your pod malfunctioning and having to deal with it alone for so long. It’s the last thing you wanted. At least she’s asleep.”

She sensed he didn’t want to talk about it, and he let her fall quiet. Then she rubbed his arms in support and he felt even worse.

*

Mills was already waiting at the bar when she came around the corner. The still unfamiliar rhythm of her steps as they approached through the Grand Concourse folded a thousand origami cranes in his gut and they all soared, pulling his heavy body with their flight as he turned to look at her.

She had on a simple outfit of black turtleneck and high-waisted checked skirt, with a pair of what his onetime fiancée would refer to as sensible heels. She was breath-taking.

He smiled as he got up to greet her, like a proper gentleman, and offered his hand to help her hop up onto the stool. “You look wonderful,” he tried not to sound licentious and make things awkward.

If she was flustered, she didn’t show it too badly. “Well, I packed this. I thought I might as well wear it.”

“Sure,” he nodded slyly. He wasn’t about to let her reject the compliment. “And you look wonderful in it.”

Finally, she relented and tried not to smile too broadly. “Thank you. You both look very handsome,” she glanced from him to Clyde with a hint of humor in her voice.

“Clyde’s a sharp dresser for sure,” Mills joined in and Clyde accepted the compliment.

For a time, Clyde was prompted to recount some of Mills’ notable misadventures over the last two years, including his nudist period, his Rasputin phase, and the mini Olympics he staged with the roombas. When the laughter died down, what swam to the surface was the awareness that all of these stories took place owing to his unfortunate circumstances. He felt both himself and his awoken girl beset with a feeling of emptiness.

Mills looked over at her and she let him look for a long moment. “I can’t think about all of this anymore, Julian,” she sighed and his name on her lips felt like a kiss as it floated to him. “I’m hitting the same walls a thousand times… It’s too sad.”

“Let’s not talk about it for a while, then?” he leapt at the suggestion and offered his hand in a deal.

She gave his eagerness a smile and took his hand. When she shook on it and squeezed, it was confident. “Just… be my neighbor,” she asked amicably.

Mills nodded to himself, considering. Still holding her hand, he leaned over the bar and Clyde came close to hear him.

The song that was playing on the jukebox scratched to a halt and after a few beats of silence, a new, familiar melody tinkled its lullaby tune on a glockenspiel. Then a marimba filled out the tinny sounds and a piano joined smoothly.

It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, the song started and she bent over with a laugh.

A beautiful day for a neighbor, the sweet voice went on and Mills tugged on her hand, inviting her to dance.

Would you be mine? Could you be mine?

She relented and followed him a few steps away from the bar. He placed a hand in a respectful, neighborly spot on her waist, and she did the same, on his shoulder.

It's a neighborly day in this beautywood

A neighborly day for a beauty

Would you be mine? Could you be mine?

They swayed together to the melody that was equally as sad as it was sweet. It fit the mood better than anything he could have planned for in advance.

I have always wanted to have a neighbor, just, like, you, she tap-tap-tapped to the beat into his chest with her index finger and he watched her fondly.

I've always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you, he mouthed the line, watching from her eyes to her lips, down her neck, and then he hit the brakes, before he got too un-neighborly.

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day,

Since we're together, we might as well say,

Would you be mine? Could you be mine?

Won't you be my neighbor?

Even Clyde tore his eyes away from his little glass as they danced, recognizing the image before him as one of classic, universal romance.

*

@thegrislady @safarigirlsp @lumberjack00fantasies @queeniebee @vedavan @house-of-cadwyn

[beardeddetectivepaper]

$81,139/$160,000

Dear readers, My name is Shahid and I am raising money to help my best friend's family. Please read their message. Numerical breakdown included at the end of the post "Imagine looking your family in the eye, in your kids’ eyes knowing that this might be your last moment in life? Pulling them from under the rubble and fleeing miraculously with no where to go… for 5 months… how would that feel? Hi all! We are 4 families (17 people - 8 kids included) living in Gaza, Palestine. At the time I'm writing this it has been 140 days of this war and life has never been harder. One week after the war started, we had to evacuate our home and started to move to the southern area of the Strip. So far, we have lost 10 members of my family (cousins), my sister’s newly-built house, all of our jobs, assets and belongings and more! Five month later and we haven’t been able to go back home. We slept in strangers’ houses, in schools, in a teeny tiny tent in the street. We have been targeted and a house we escaped to fell over us.. it’s a miracle we’re still alive. Currently, we’re staying in a small secluded room that doesn’t have any bathroom or any other facility surrounded by collapsed houses due to strikes! We have a very limited access to food, water, and medications. Countless days of hunger, thirst, and cold!

Life here has become impossible! Prices are 10 times higher and everything became almost unaffordable! And It’s been so long since we had any income- keeping in mind that we are already suffering a financial hit because of current circumstances. We don’t have clothes that suit the cold weather and the only clothes we have are the ones that are on us! If we want to cook anything we have to light up fire and it’s another challenge and so risky… let alone that it destroyed our health especially that I and 3 kids in the family have asthma. The list of hardships can’t be placed in one page! Before it’s too late, we need you to extend your generous hands towards us and help us find a safe destination outside this hell.. where dreams are allowed and people aren’t numbers displayed on the screen for seconds.

The goal is to be able to gather around 40k$ for each family just to escape this nightmare and to be able to start a new life somewhere else. And here’s how you can help: * Entering the Egyptian side: Since we don’t have any airport, the only way to travel is by crossing Rafah border to the Egyptian side. To do so, they demand we pay 5000$ for every adult and 2500$ for kids under 15 years old and that’s if they didn’t raise the fees even higher! We won’t be receiving one dollar from this huge fee. It’s all going to go to the company and authorities in the Egyptian side. It’s how people benefit from others’ suffering, unfortunately. (At least 65k$ will go down the drain) * Reuniting with our Moroccan roots: It has been 5 months since we last had any source of income and we have been spending 10 times the normal prices of literally everything! Starting from square one for 4 families isn’t a piece of cake especially the first year until we can secure jobs and a steady source of income: - We need around 100$ per person to issue passports… and around 800$ per person for plane tickets - We don’t have a problem with 17 people having to live in one house… and that’s around 750$ - 900$ monthly rent, not to mention schools, daily expenses, medications (we have diabetes patients and asthma) and much more for 4 families and that’s going to cost around 750$ monthly to say the least for each family and it only covers the necessities and basics - Placing a request in court to Getting our Moroccan nationality, hiring an attorney and more expenses

Kindly remember that time isn’t our best ally and as you go on with your lives please know that 4 families of 17 people will forever be thankful that you pulled them from this constant danger to the shores of safety by donating. We appreciate your participation and so thankful for the time you spend reading our story." The families that will receive the funds - Zuhair M. S. Masood Monira A. R. Masood Hala Z. M. Masoud Mohammed Z. M. Masood Rana M. I. Masood Lian M. Z. Masood Mira M. Z. Masood Ceila M. Z. Masood Ahmed Z. M. Masood Rwaida J. H. Masood Sara A. Z. Masood Dana A. Z. Masood Rabab Z. M. Al Hayk Yousef S. I. Al Hayk Jana Y. S. Al Hayk Amro Y. S. Al Hayk Yazan Yousef Shabaan Al Hayk 1. Border Crossing Fees: • $5,000 per adult • $2,500 per child under 15 years old 2. Passport and Travel Expenses: • $100 per person for passport issuance • $800 per person for plane tickets 3. Living Expenses: • Housing: $750 - $900 monthly rent for 17 people • Monthly Necessities: Approximately $750 per family 4. Legal Procedures: • Requesting Moroccan Nationality: Costs associated with hiring an attorney and court fees

The total estimated cost involves various elements, including the border crossing fees, travel expenses, living costs, and legal procedures. Disclaimer- the fees can vary depending on the circumstance of a ceasefire but as mentioned this family has experienced total loss of their home. 100% of funds raised will dedicated to assisting the recipients in receiving aid to rebuild their life

[moroccodesertcamps]

Unlocking the Mystique of Morocco Embark on a Captivating Journey with Morocco Desert Camps

In a world where travel is more than just a leisurely pursuit but a transformative experience, the allure of the mystical Moroccan deserts stands unparalleled. The vast stretches of golden sands, the towering dunes that seem to touch the sky, and the enchanting silence that envelops the landscape create an otherworldly ambiance. Amidst this breathtaking setting, a unique business known as "Morocco Desert Camps" has emerged, offering an extraordinary experience through its meticulously curated Morocco desert tours.

Exploring Morocco Desert Camps

Morocco Desert Camps is not just a business; it is a gateway to an immersive encounter with the natural wonders of the Sahara. Founded with a passion for showcasing the beauty and cultural richness of the Moroccan deserts, this enterprise has become synonymous with bespoke desert experiences.

The Morocco desert tours offered by the company promise an authentic exploration of the Sahara, providing travelers with an opportunity to delve into the heart of this majestic landscape. From the moment adventurers set foot in the desert to the time they bid farewell to the last glimmers of the sunset, Morocco Desert Camps crafts an unforgettable journey.

Key Features of Morocco Desert Tours

Morocco Desert Camps takes pride in offering unique accommodation options amidst the vast dunes. Visitors have the chance to stay in luxurious desert camps, complete with traditional Berber-inspired tents. The blend of modern comfort and authentic desert living provides a truly magical experience.

The essence of Morocco lies not only in its landscapes but also in its rich cultural tapestry. Morocco Desert Camps ensures that travelers are not just spectators but active participants in local traditions. From camel treks to encounters with nomadic communities, every tour is a cultural odyssey.

Culinary experiences in the desert reach new heights with Morocco Desert Camps. Amidst the seemingly endless dunes, guests are treated to delectable Moroccan cuisine, prepared by skilled chefs. Dining under the stars with the rhythmic beats of traditional music creates an atmosphere of unparalleled romance.

For those seeking a bit of adrenaline, Morocco Desert Camps offers a range of adventure activities. From exhilarating dune bashing to serene hot air balloon rides at sunrise, the tours cater to diverse interests, ensuring that each traveler finds their own slice of excitement.

One of the most enchanting aspects of the Morocco desert tours is the opportunity for stargazing. With minimal light pollution in the vast Sahara, the night sky transforms into a celestial masterpiece. Morocco Desert Camps organizes special stargazing sessions, allowing travelers to connect with the universe in a way that is impossible in urban settings.

The Impact of Morocco Desert Camps

Beyond the awe-inspiring experiences, Morocco Desert Camps has made a positive impact on the local communities and the environment. The business actively engages in sustainable practices, ensuring that the fragile desert ecosystem is preserved for generations to come. Additionally, the company supports local initiatives, contributing to the well-being of the nomadic communities that call the Sahara home.

Conclusion

In the realm of travel, Morocco Desert Camps has carved a niche for itself, offering a unique and transformative journey through the mesmerizing landscapes of the Sahara. The Morocco desert tour not only promise adventure and luxury but also a deep connection with the rich cultural heritage of the region.

As travelers embark on this extraordinary experience with Morocco Desert Camps, they find themselves not just wandering through the desert but immersing in a world where time seems to stand still. The company's commitment to sustainability and community engagement adds a layer of responsibility to the travel experience, encouraging a more conscious and respectful approach to exploring the wonders of the Moroccan deserts.

In the vastness of the Sahara, where the winds whisper tales of ancient civilizations and the dunes hold secrets untold, Morocco Desert Camps invites adventurers to create their own stories. With every step in the golden sands, under the vast expanse of the desert sky, a Morocco desert tour becomes a chapter in a tale of wonder, beauty, and the enduring magic of the Sahara.

[cathkaesque]

End of year meme: 1, 16, 19, 42

Hey!!

1) "First things first, did you have a good year?" - Goodness me it's been a really really intense year but definitely one of my best. I've been doing work that is everything I am passionate about and I've been able to make real contributions. I've spoken with workers living in shanty towns working miles and miles of strawberry farms for supermarkets. I've been hosted by the Honduran government and met peasants being evicted from their land. It is one thing reading about these things and another seeing it for yourself and meeting people who are at the sharpest end of the system. It makes you see through a lot of bullshit. I've finally gotten on HRT and it's been everything I've hoped it would be and more. I've finally begun feeling like myself and it's wonderful! It's had it's lows too (there was a horrible time in August where I was very sick with covid, it was 40 degrees, my friend was waiting 9 hours for an ambulance for his sick uncle, and the Tory leadership contest was debating what defines a woman. Just felt like the absolute end of the world yknow), and it's been hard work. I've been doing lots of very difficult things (managing a huge project all by myself, trying to win strikes in other parts of the world, and all doing it with the endocrine system of a 14 year old girl) but I've never been so confident in who I am, what I stand for, and what I can do. It is brilliant feeling.

16) "What food did you try for the first time?" - I broke my vegetarianism for the first time in a decade while I was in Honduras. I wanted to be able to accept people's hospitality and I've had a potential celiac diagnosis hanging over me so I've been wavering. Some of it was nice, a nice locally caught fish and some really nice chorizo barbecued by the Vice Minister of Agrarian Reform (I live a crazy life). But I know I'm not missing anything, it's something I can totally live without, and it made me very ill lol. My vegetarianism has been reaffirmed!

19) "What was one nice thing you did for yourself?" - Honestly like, it has been very intense this year, I haven't had much time to sit still and look after myself. But I got lots of cute, nice clothes, and I made sure to rest when I could. And also like, taking these opportunities that were offered to me. I so nearly didn't go to Honduras because I was deep in covid when I was asked to go and felt like I needed to focus on my other work. Luckily I was offered a second chance to go when someone else dropped out! A wonderful opportunity.

42) "What are you most proud of accomplishing?" - It was like right at the beginning but the Azura strike is my biggest achievement. I wrote quite a lot about it on tumblr at the time I collected loads of photos and statements from the struggle which you can find here.

But basically there was a really serious case of union busting at a tomato farm owned by a huge Moroccan agribusiness called Azura. Azura was openly flaunting the law by docking union members pay for attending union meetings, ignoring the Labour inspectorates demand to negotiate with the union, and beat up and then sacked the union delegate leading the branch. The workers went on strike from the beginning of December until the middle of January. On 2nd January, Azura's actions led to the death of a worker called Sabah Dinar in a car accident on the picket line. They then sent G4S thugs to beat up the rest of the workers. They used a hosepipe on their tents at 3am.

A statement from La Via Campesina was drawn up demanding intervention from supermarkets for circulation. I sent it to every supermarket press officer, CSR team and regulator - I found their personal company addresses using rocketreach so it didn’t just get lost in the ether. I found document from Azura for international customers claiming that they respected union rights and paid well. At the same time, workers from other farms joined the picket line for a big demonstration against Azura. My emailing resulted in 3 British supermarkets intervening and demanding Azura negotiated with the union. This won them everything the workers were asking for - the sacked union members got a lot of compensation and Sabah’s young children are now getting their education paid for by the company. Azura’s human resources team both at the farm and national level were sacked for their role in this. And now Azura is negotiating with FNSA on a whole range of issues. It was an extremely well coordinated effort between the FNSA and LVC unions in Europe organised in a very small amount of time and my actions were key in resolving the situation positively.

[support1212]

marrakech desert trips,

marrakech desert trips,

Marrakech, the vibrant heart of Morocco, is a city that captures the imagination with its rich history, bustling souks, and exquisite architecture. Yet, beyond the city's red walls lies a landscape that offers an entirely different kind of adventure—the captivating Moroccan desert. Marrakech desert trips provide an unforgettable journey through some of the most stunning and varied desert landscapes in the world, from the vast sands of the Sahara to the rugged beauty of the Agafay Desert.

A Journey into the Sahara The Sahara Desert, the world’s largest hot desert, is the ultimate destination for those seeking an extraordinary adventure. Marrakech serves as a gateway to this iconic expanse, where travelers can experience the breathtaking beauty and serene solitude of the sand dunes. Popular routes often include a drive through the dramatic High Atlas Mountains, providing a stunning backdrop of towering peaks and deep valleys.

Once in the desert, visitors can embark on camel treks, an ancient mode of transport that allows for a slow and immersive exploration of the dunes. Riding a camel at sunset or sunrise, when the sands glow with a golden hue, is an experience that stays with you long after you’ve left. Nights are spent in traditional Berber tents, where the clear skies reveal a blanket of stars, and the silence of the desert offers a peaceful retreat from modern life.

The Enigmatic Agafay Desert Closer to Marrakech, the Agafay Desert presents a different but equally enchanting landscape. Known as the "stone desert," Agafay's rocky terrain and rolling hills offer a stark contrast to the sandy dunes of the Sahara. This desert is easily accessible, making it perfect for shorter trips or day excursions.

In Agafay, visitors can enjoy a range of activities such as quad biking, horseback riding, and 4x4 tours. These adventures provide a thrilling way to explore the unique landscape, characterized by its lunar-like appearance. Despite its proximity to Marrakech, Agafay offers a sense of isolation and tranquility, with panoramic views that stretch out to the distant Atlas Mountains.

Cultural Encounters Marrakech desert trips are not just about the landscapes; they are also a journey into the cultural heart of Morocco. Travelers have the opportunity to meet local Berber communities, who have inhabited these deserts for centuries. Engaging with the Berber people, learning about their customs, and sharing a traditional meal under the stars are highlights that add depth and authenticity to the desert experience.

Planning Your Trip When planning a Marrakech desert trip, it’s important to consider the duration and type of experience you’re seeking. Options range from overnight excursions to multi-day adventures that venture deep into the Sahara. Many tour operators offer customizable itineraries, ensuring that each trip caters to the individual needs and preferences of the travelers.

Comfort and safety are also paramount. Reputable tour companies provide well-maintained vehicles, experienced guides, and quality accommodations, ensuring a seamless and enjoyable journey. Whether you prefer the rustic charm of a Berber camp or the luxury of a desert glamping site, there are options to suit all tastes and budgets.

Conclusion Marrakech desert trips offer a unique blend of adventure, culture, and natural beauty. From the awe-inspiring dunes of the Sahara to the rugged landscapes of the Agafay Desert, these journeys provide an escape into some of the world’s most mesmerizing environments. Whether you're seeking the thrill of exploration or the tranquility of nature, a desert trip from Marrakech promises an unforgettable experience that will leave you with memories to last a lifetime.

[nataliesnews]

arsonists and the tent, 7 blessings, fatma 8.12.2023

This is what I woke up to this morning. The people who did this are the descendants of the Nazis who sent up to the gas chambers and the Hamas which burnt our people in their houses. 

 During the night, while the people of the *encampment of the families of the murdered and kidnapped* in front of the Knesset were preparing for a night's sleep, they smelled the smell of a fire, *and heavy smoke enveloped the encampment.* The residents of the encampment succeeded in their quick reaction to put out the fire using fire extinguishers. The police and fire brigade were called to the place, which ruled out an electrical fault (the encampment operates with the approval of the electric company and accompanied by a qualified electrical engineer). *The possibility that the source of the fire is due to suspected arson is now being examined*. Fortunately, the fire was extinguished quickly and without casualties. However, it should be noted that the residents of the encampment, who lost their loved ones in the terrible disaster of October 7, *suffered in recent weeks several threats from passers-by who expressed themselves in an extreme and violent manner*. The thought that *freedom of protest and expression in Israel is under threat* emphasizes even more strongly the *danger of the leadership of the party and the instigator and the need to replace them with worthy leaders*. *The Shabbat reception will take place today as planned* at 13:00 at the Mahal. Kaplan 1, Jerusalem. *Now is the time to go to the Knesset!* 📢 Share *Follow us and join the protest*📢 *To join a silent group of eyes on the Knesset* https://chat.whatsapp.com/Ln2Bsudap0TExbyKyCvttt to column X of the encampment https://x.com/hamishpahot/status/1729194130881032568?s=46

This I wrote yesterday. 

A man at Nofim asked me if I could bring yellow ribbons (the ribbon we wear as a sign for the bringing back of the kidnapped) which seems further and further away. We had  a house meeting and I asked him to make an announcement that we would put the ribbons on the table at the entrance.  When I asked him why he had not done so, he said that they had all been taken while he was still holding them.

I invited Irit and Yaakov to go with me to see the film

Seven Blessings

The movie poster

The movie page on IMDb

Seven Blessings is an Israeli family drama film from 2023 , centered on the wedding of 40-year-old Marie ( Raymond Amsalem ), who arrives at the Hoffa accompanied by her biological mother Hana ( Tiki Dayan ) on the one hand, and her adoptive mother Gracia ( Reveka Bacher ) on the other. The film won 10 Ophir awards for 2023, including the best feature film , and as a result will compete for the representation of Israel in the Oscar award for the best foreign film at the 96th ceremony to be held in 2024.

The theme song of the film was sung by the singer Ron Peretz . The lyrics were written by Eleanor Sela and composed by Yogev Kinan.

plot [ edit source code | edit ]

At the center of the plot is the bride Marie ( Raymond Amsalem ), who was born to Hana ( Tiki Dayan ), the eldest child, and was given at the age of two to Gracia ( Reveka Bacher ), Hana's childless sister. This is according to a custom that existed among Moroccan Jewry and was called "borrowing a girl": a mother with many children would give one of her daughters to her sister who had no children, in order to prevent her divorce .  According to Jewish law a man can divorce a wife who is barrren!!!  I have heard, I think, of African tribes where this is done but did not know it had been done by Jews too., In fact, Hadas, their daughter who came with us said that her husband had an uncle who was given to a childless family member. It is supposed to be a comedy drama but was more sad than it was funny

Than last night I went with Karen to the Dormition Abbey where they had a rendition of Judah Maccabee.....such voices and all of them Jewish. And all I could think of was the first scenes which showed Hamas bursting into Israel.

 I am putting in this article from the Jerusalem Post about what happened to Israeli women soldiers ....I can't even write the heading of the article.  Don't open it if  you are faint hearted but if you want to prove to anyone what animals Hamas are..this is the way. This is not rape but sheer savagery. Although there are those who still try to deny it, the videos have been shown all over the world, although some people still deny it. 

קמא 

Also the danger of fake news which Sara Netanyahyu spread about a foreign  kidnapped   woman giving birth in  Gaza. She even wrote to Jill Biden about it. I put  in an article from Ha'aretz on the subject. The only good news on the tv today was that the army is beginning to realise how dangerous the hilltop youth are. to me they have all the makings of Hamas bolstered up by fanatics such as Ben Gvir.  

We are shown very little of what is happening in Gaza and unfortunately Al Jazeera is in Arabic....I do think of  what is happening in Gaza but, to be honest, my first thoughts are for the hostages.  Hamas could easily stop it if they would give the hostages back. and Netanyahu could also call for a ceasefire and have them brought back even if only as before in small groups and bring the fighting to an end. 

Fatma died of a heart attack during the night. I am happy for her. She died in her own bed, in her own house. What will happen now at Sheikh Jarrar, I don't know. For at least 20 years we have been demonstrating every Friday afternoon for the neighborhood where houses are continually being taken over by force by settlers. Since the beginning of the war there have been no demonstrations. In fact, in Jerusalem,Last Saturday when I went it was more a religious celebration of Shabbat than a protest calling for the freeing of the hostages and the fall of Netanyayyu. In Tel Aviv it is more a true demonstration but the problem is that it is so long.....the trip from Jerusalem, the long hours with all the speeches where nothing new is said. then waiting for the buse to fill, the ride home and then you still have to get to Nofim. 

Anyhow I felt I had to go to the shiva for her. It only lasts four days andI found no one to go with as they were all going at hours which  were not good for me. So I went alone, very uncomfortable and rather embarrassing. Bus,  train and then a long walk....which I was actually glad of as I am not doing enough walking. I have to force myself, not physically but emotionally. Eating is the same problem, I buy things which normally I would not allow myself to eat as being fattening and even they do not tempt me...or I eat them with lang tande.Anyhow I have never  gone to the neighborhood alone. Only for the demonstrations. Not that I am scared of going there. In fact I got to many areas where my friends would not go. But you stand out so. And then too there is the embarrassment of going into a house of mourning where you do not speak the language or know the customs. But I knew Fatma and I could not ignore her death.

It was very hard finding the house. I went to the place where I normally would see her but the door was locked and the way also was very uneven. There were hardly any people around and then a man recognized me and sent me around the other way. The stairs going down were very uneven but then  a woman came out who recognised me and helped me down. There were only women there.....the men were sitting in a different place. But the room was full and one woman was reading from the Koran. I went up to her and then they gave me a comfortable place to sit. I drank the traditional coffee and the traditional date. I did not speak to anyone as they were all praying and sat for about 10 minutes and then left. A woman helped me out and thanked me for coming. I felt I had to give Fatma the  last honour. 

Anyhow, let me make you laugh a bit. The last months at Nofim have been very annoying for me where the cleaning is concerned as the woman I had who was wonderful left and there were several people here making problems for the new house committee.  The new guy who is an Arab is not very efficient and I really blew up at him the other day/ I felt very bad about it as I have never had bad dealings with any of the workers. I phoned him and asked him to come up and we spoke it out. In the Arab fashion, he said I was like his grandmother to him....I apologized again and he said it was quite alright....that two days ago his father had been so mad at him, he had thrown his shoe at him!! Which by the way is very insulting in Arab culture. So we both laughed and shook hands.

Sometimes there is a light and a laugh however faint which gives you a reason to keep fighting.

Report: FM arranged diplomatic passports for top Likudniks, sought one for PM’s son

Despite professionals' recommendations, the prized documents were reportedly given to influential party officials; Cohen also said to have tried to arrange one for Yair Netanyahu. By the way evidently the little shit is back, very quietly!! He had the nerve to go and sit in the offices of Magen Davied in their uniforms and pretend that he volunteered there which is completely untrue and no one had the guts to  chuck him out. He is such a useless piece of shit. Netanyahu keeps saying that we are losing the best of our young man.......I guess that is why his two sons are not there. But it does not embarrass  him to say so.

-‘Life under Hamas is like under ISIS,’ says Syria-born journalist deported from Gaza

Manar al-Sharif tells ToI the majority of Gazans don't back terror group; says Oct. 7 was unsurprising but there's no vision for a better future in the fighting against Israel

https://www.timesofisrael.com/life-under-hamas-is-like-under-isis-says-syria-born-journalist-deported-from-gaza/-

Natalie Natanya Ginsburgar

[ionlyjoinedforstuffilike]

R & R

Pairing: Billy Russo x F!Reader

Word count: 1,100

Warnings: (18+ adult blog) Sexual tension, some dub con owning to power imbalance, employer/employee dynamic, sexual harassment, verging on dark though nothing explicit here.

Summary: You finally have a moment to unwind on your hectic business trip. You are absorbed in the beautiful surroundings yet your boss seems only interested in you.

A/N: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer's Wednesday. I'm exploring writing for different fandoms and well Billy Russo has been on my mind quiet a bit. No tag list whilst it is a new character.

The water was warm and soothing as if you were swimming in a large luxurious bath. And luxurious it was - mosaic tiles, ornate arches, the pool been made to look like a Moroccan riad. The exclusive hotel would usually be beyond your reach, but this was on the company dime and you were determined to take advantage of the little downtime you'd been gifted.

You'd spent the last few weeks globetrotting with Anvil, checking on contracts and drumming up new business. It had been a whirlwind, a different country almost every day, barely aware of your location let alone time zone. Exhausted from nonstop work, jet lag, and the inability to truly rest.  Not all of your accommodation had been like this - most much more rudimentary, nothing more than a tent in a war-torn land. Now on your way back home this was your final stop, where you needed to schmooze some big wigs and convince them that Anvil was the only choice.

As a personal secretary you had little to do with arrangements or scheduling for the trip - details were all very hush hush and need to know. You definitely not significant enough to be fully informed. In fact, you were surprised you were even invited along, simply there to type minutes, bring coffee. Certainly, just for show, there to hand your boss important papers when he asked, to walk a few paces behind him and generally to inflate his sense of importance. It's all about appearance, that's how to sell it - that's what Mr Russo said.

You had arrived earlier in the day, had full and exclusive access to the boutique hotel, the other guests were not due to arrive till the following evening giving you time to refresh and some much-needed R&R. Once you'd settled in and completed some essential tasks, you couldn't wait to dive into the empty pool - no one around to bother you, no one you needed to make happy.

You floated on your back gazing up beyond the skylights, vines draped from pink stuccoed walls, creating an oasis.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Your heart lurched, ungraciously slapping and spluttering as you tried to right yourself in the water.

"Sorry Mr Russo I didn't see... I er.. you said to relax..."

"I did," your employer's lip curling to a smirk. Despite the lack of work (and the heat), he was still wearing his suit - dark grey, expensive, a deep red tie, crisp white shirt. He always looked immaculate. It didn't matter how long he had travelled, hours he'd worked, he was always so well put together. Unbuttoning his jacket, he took a chair at the side of the pool, sipped clear liquid from the crystal tumbler, "Carry on. Don't mind me."

But you did, suddenly very self-conscious in his presence. His dark eyes never left you, you're trapped, unsure of what move to make - either option (continue to laze or extracting yourself from the water) would increase the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Billy Russo often unnerved you, caused a cocktail of emotions to bubble within. His charm and smile disarming, very attractive but the intensity of his stare and knowledge of his capabilities made him dangerous. His shrewd business ambition wasn't off putting, it was to be expected if one were to do well in the industry, but it was his direct interactions with you. He always looked at you as if he was privy to something you were not, like he knew what was about to happen and you were firmly in the dark. 

"Anything you need?"

He shook his head, "Not that I can think of. Please." Gave a little gesture to coaxed you to continue.

You obliged by completing a couple of laps of leisurely breaststroke, his eyes fixed sipping his drink. The emptiness of the room no longer soothing, instead it was a reminder of how alone you were with a very powerful man. The handful of colleagues who had accompanied you were nowhere to be seen, even if you knew where in the hotel they were what would it matter - very much Billy's men, answering only to him and his money. Out there his dominance and respect made you feel safe, protected against the ills of the world that could easily be revealed in this line of business but in here, this gorgeous but small, isolated hotel it was disconcerting. Maybe it wasn't any of that, maybe your mind twisting things, it wasn't uncommon to think about your boss beyond a professional compacity, back in New York you would often find yourself daydreaming in the office, fantasising over the handsome brunette. For no matter how imposing Billy Russo was, he was very beautiful.

Exposed and vulnerable, no longer relaxed or lost in the glamour, you decided to get out and find sanctuary in your room. It would be far more conspicuous for him to follow you there. Your towel was on the seat next to the one he had taken, leaving you no choice but to get close to him. You chose to use the steps rather than humiliate yourself with the ungainly climb out, your wet skin instantly goose fleshed, you kept head down, arm across body as you made your way towards your boss. He grabbed towel, handed it to you and though you didn't need to reach over, you did have to get very close and he took opportunity for a closer inspection. Billy’s eyes raked over your nearly naked form, the man with the perfect face, the perfect body eyeing yours. You took the fluffy towel, dabbed your face, unfolded it to wrap around you like a cape.

Billy's hand came to you, still holding his glass his finger extended, outstretched and grazed down your stomach finishing little above your bikini briefs. Billy's gaze followed the trail and lingered.

"Are you relaxed?" he smirked.

"Uh huh," you lied.

He dipped to lower his glass to the floor before sitting straighter and placing his now free hand to your hip.

"Maybe you could help me relax a little better?"

You swallowed a lump that had formed in your increasingly dry throat, "Mr Russo I..."

He laughed, "You look terrified. I just mean a drink. You'll have a drink with me, won’t you?" His charming smile and tone hinted at sincerity though his hand still at your hip, his thumb brushing back and forth, told a different tale.

[eretzyisrael]

WASHINGTON - Israel and Morocco have agreed to normalize ties, US President Donald Trump announced on Thursday. Morocco will become the fourth Arab country to normalize relations with Israel in just four months, following the UAE, Bahrain and Sudan.

“Another HISTORIC breakthrough today!” Trump tweeted. “Our two GREAT friends Israel and the Kingdom of Morocco have agreed to full diplomatic relations – a massive breakthrough for peace in the Middle East!”

As part of the agreement, US President Donald Trump agreed to recognize Morocco's sovereignty over the Western Sahara, where there has been a decades-old territorial dispute with Morocco pitted against the Algeria-backed Polisario Front, a breakaway movement that seeks to establish an independent state in the territory.“Morocco's serious, credible, and realistic autonomy proposal is the ONLY basis for a just and lasting solution for enduring peace and prosperity!” he tweeted.

“Morocco recognized the United States in 1777.  It is thus fitting we recognize their sovereignty over the Western Sahara,” Trump added.

“The United States affirms, as stated by previous Administrations, its support for Morocco's autonomy proposal as the only basis for a just and lasting solution to the dispute over the Western Sahara territory,” Trump’s proclamation reads. “Therefore, as of today, the United States recognizes Moroccan sovereignty over the entire Western Sahara territory and reaffirms its support for Morocco's serious, credible, and realistic autonomy proposal as the only basis for a just and lasting solution to the dispute over the Western Sahara territory.”

“The United States believes that an independent Sahrawi State is not a realistic option for resolving the conflict and that genuine autonomy under Moroccan sovereignty is the only feasible solution,” the proclamation states. “We urge the parties to engage in discussions without delay, using Morocco's autonomy plan as the only framework to negotiate a mutually acceptable solution.”

Establishing ties between the two countries remained a prime goal for the Trump administration in the past few weeks. In September, it was reported that a line of direct flights would be established, but according to Moroccan media, local officials dismissed the reports and said they were not true.

In February, Axios reported that the United States and Israel are negotiating a scenario that would have the US recognize Moroccan sovereignty over the occupied territories in Western Sahara if the Arab state would move in the direction of normalizing relations with Israel.

"[The normalization] comes on the heels of four years of very, very hard work and very intense diplomacy," said senior adviser Jared Kushner in a press briefing. "As part of this deal, Morocco will establish full diplomatic relations and resume official contacts with Israel."

He added that Morocco will grant overflight and direct flights to and from Israel. "They'll reopen the liaison offices in Rabat and Tel Aviv immediately with the intention to open the embassies in the near future. They'll be promoting economic cooperation between Israeli and Moroccan companies," he added.

Speaking about the decision to recognize Moroccan sovereignty in Western Sahara, Kushner said that "[it is] something that seemed inevitable at this point; is something that we think advances the region and helps bring more clarity to where things are going." 

The move itself would be the culmination of a successful 12-month period of Arab-Israeli relations, with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu visiting Chad and meeting with Sudanese leaders and making steps to normalize ties after this week's diplomatic mission, as well as the warming relations and cooperation with Saudi Arabia, in addition to a number of other Arab states.

Following the announcement, President Trump spoke with King Mohammed VI of Morocco. According to a readout provided by the White House, "The leaders discussed cooperation in the fight against the coronavirus, ways to minimize its economic impact, and common interests in critical regional issues."

"During the conversation the King agreed to resume diplomatic relations between Morocco and Israel and expand economic and cultural cooperation to advance regional stability," the White House said in a statement.

Under the agreement, Morocco will establish full diplomatic relations and resume official contacts with Israel, grant overflights and also direct flights to and from Israel for all Israelis.

"They are going reopen their liaison offices in Rabat and Tel Aviv immediately with the intention to open embassies. And they are going to promote economic cooperation between Israeli and Moroccan companies," White House senior adviser Jared Kushner told Reuters.

"Today the administration has achieved another historic milestone. President Trump has brokered a peace agreement between Morocco and Israel – the fourth such agreement between Israel and an Arab/Muslim nation in four months.

"Through this historic step, Morocco is building on its longstanding bond with the Moroccan Jewish community living in Morocco and throughout the world, including in Israel. This is a significant step forward for the people of Israel and Morocco.

"It further enhances Israel’s security, while creating opportunities for Morocco and Israel to deepen their economic ties and improve the lives of their people."

A White House statement on the phone call between Trump and the king of Morocco said Trump "reaffirmed his support for Morocco's serious, credible, and realistic autonomy proposal as the only basis for a just and lasting solution to the dispute over the Western Sahara territory."

"And as such the president recognized Moroccan sovereignty over the entire Western Sahara territory," the statement said.

Palestinians have been critical of the normalization deals, saying Arab countries have set back the cause of peace by abandoning a longstanding demand that Israel give up land for a Palestinian state before it can receive recognition.

With Trump to leave office on Jan. 20, the Morocco deal could be among the last his team, led by Kushner and US envoy Avi Berkowitz, is able to negotiate before they give way to President-elect Joe Biden's incoming administration.

Much of the momentum behind the deal-making has been to present a united front against Iran and roll back its regional influence.

The Trump White House has tried to get Saudi Arabia to sign on to a normalization deal with Israel, believing if the Saudis agreed other Arab nations would follow, but the Saudis have signaled they are not ready.

One more Middle East breakthrough is possible. Last week Kushner and his team traveled to Saudi Arabia and Qatar seeking an end to a three-year rift between Doha and the Gulf Cooperation Council countries.

A tentative deal has been reached on this front but it was far from clear whether a final agreement to end a blockade of Qatar will be sealed. Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and Egypt have maintained a diplomatic, trade and travel embargo on Qatar since mid-2017.

While Biden is expected to move US foreign policy away from Trump's "America First" posture, he has indicated he will continue the pursuit of what Trump calls "the Abraham Accords" between Israel and Arab and Muslim nations.

[merelygifted]

Gold portrait winner: In the Workshops of Cox London by Alun Callender Portraits of the craftspeople at the workshops of Cox London Ltd, a company specialising in unique lighting, furniture and art works, designed and made in London. The AOP Awards 2020 Exhibition will be at One Canada Square, London, from 11 January – 26 February 2021

Silver portrait winner: Makhila by Sam Robinson Robinson was invited to work closely with Ballet Academy East in New York City, documenting their training sessions between the winter and spring seasons. During this time, dancers have a short period in which to develop their practice in the hope of making the spring showcase in a leading role

Gold photojournalism winner: Made in Japan by Nick David and Jack Flynn Made in Japan is a short documentary film giving a window into the world of the famous Japanese denim mills in Okayama. Japanese denim has a reputation for being the best in the world, known for its premium construction and the skilled artisanal craft required to make it

Silver emerging talent winner: Nomads by Joshua J Sneade In tents and caves among the rocky landscape of the Moroccan High Atlas live a relatively small population of nomads. Their traditional way of life revolves around herding animals to provide food and to sell in nearby towns. In recent times, however, contact with these towns is offering enticing opportunities for the younger generation in the form of work and education. This means that, as more young people embrace static lifestyles, the number of nomads is dwindling

Head-spinning talent: winners from The Association of Photographers awards – in pictures | Art and design | The Guardian

[halfasleepoetry]

I wish you would write a fic where Ben and Joe go on holiday together. As a couple or as friends with feelings for each other.

Because I am unlike any sane person who answer asks normally, here you go, a 4K+ word count answer.

One Year Of Love

Joe and Ben found out early on in their friendship that they like travelling together. They make compatible travel buddies; Joe would do the research and Ben would plan the heck out of the trip down to the details and both of them try as much as they can to get everything to work out according to their plan and following their schedule. So far, they have successfully done so each time, until they decided to go to Morocco. They’ve been to almost all European and American destinations that they had wanted to see together, so they decided that the next downtime they have would be the best time to branch out a little, see new places. They had a few countries in mind, but ultimately chose Morocco for obvious reasons (“Casablanca!” Joe said, being the biggest fan of old, classical films), but after much research, they decided ultimately that they would go to Agadir, because Ben loves seaside towns and beaches.

“Do you know that Agadir’s weather is like LA’s?” Joe asked without looking away from his phone.

“No way,” Ben said after swallowing his food. “We’ve picked the perfect place.”

So when they got to Agadir and realized that the chill seaside town is exactly what it is; laid back and operates on its own concept of time, they met their first stumbling block. Their taxi was late, their room not ready for checking in. But the people smiled and carried on as if there’s nothing inherently wrong with a little tardiness here and there. “People around here are really that chill, huh?” Joe recognized the hint of irritation in Ben’s voice instantly. He’s tired. They both were. So he distracted the blonde by dragging him to the rooftop patio of their hotel, where it is also a lounge cafe during the day and a bar at night. 

“The sunset here is going to be amazing, don’t you think?”

And Joe was right. They spent the evening looking at the amazing view from the rooftop before going along and around the promenade on a rented scooter, Joe at the front and Ben with his arms around Joe’s waist. They returned to their hotel when it’s pretty late, but the seafront never sleeps, it seems. They stayed out because it’s a shame not to do so, the sound of waves in their ears and night sky lit with stars and a silver crescent moon as they sipped wine and talked quietly and share comfortable silences as they tend to do whenever they are alone in each other’s company.

Morocco is both everything and nothing they had expected it to be; it’s breathtaking and different, quaint and modern, quiet and bustling. They explored the kasbah during the day, went through the restored ruins and returned to the promenade on the second evening, this time staying out longer to enjoy the nightlife. They went hiking at the Paradise Valley, taking in the view of square mudbrick houses and almond trees and olive orchards along the way. Joe had fallen in love with Moroccan mint tea, and even Ben, who isn’t a tea drinker, found himself liking its fresh and charming taste. They, or Ben in particular, had quickly forgotten the initial wariness towards the local’s warped sense of time and tendency to be over-friendly and inquisitive towards tourists. Partly because Joe is very good at handling both the situation and Ben in times like this, and partly because Morocco breathes its old magic everywhere and into everyone who sets foot on its soil. It’s impossible not to be lulled into its spell, as if they’ve drifted out of their lives into a completely different existence, especially as they make their way to Ouarzazate. Moroccan’s Little Hollywood. Games of Throne season 3, Lawrence of Arabia, Gladiator and a long list of Hollywood movies were shot there, according to Joe’s research. Joe is driving.

“I feel like--” he started.

“No, don’t say it,” Ben tried stopping him.

“--what, my inner Daenarys is coming out.” Ben groaned and Joe laughed.

When they stopped en route at Taroudant, they walked into the souq. Ben hasn’t stopped taking pictures since morning. He must have taken hundreds of pictures for the last few days, maybe thousands. Joe navigated the way, and they stopped by at a cafe to have mint tea. They--no, Joe--struck a conversation with a couple in their twenties, they’re from France and travelling on a tight budget, so Joe offered them a ride, which they gratefully accepted. They drove on to Taliouine, where they stopped by to try the freshly-made saffron tea, and it’s like no other. Joe bought some saffron stored in dark glass jar for his mom from the local seller before driving on to Ouarzazate, arriving at their riad late in the afternoon. The couple stayed at a budget place nearby, but Joe asked them to join him and Ben for a dip in the riad’s outdoor pool, and dinner later. They talked late into the night before parting ways, and later on as they were lying down on their respective beds in their room, Ben was about to fall asleep when Joe suddenly turned on his stomach and called his name. He told Ben the guy, Louis, told him earlier that he will propose to his girlfriend, Chloe, at the end of their Moroccan trip.

“That’s sweet.” Ben said, yawning.

“Get ready to be invited, if things go well for him.”

“What?”

“I exchanged phone numbers and emails with them.” Ben would have laughed if he wasn’t too sleepy.

“We could have another trip to the French countryside.” 

Ben hummed an affirmative noncommittally.

Joe continued, “You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“Chloe asked me if we’re together.”

There’s a pause before Ben says, “Oh.”

“Anyway, not the first time.” Joe turned to lie down on his back again. “Good night, honey.”

“Asshole.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bug bite.”

“Shut up, Joe.”

It’s dark but Ben thought he could see Joe grinning. He turned away to face the wall, closed his eyes, but it took him a long time to finally fall asleep.

The next day Ben let Joe slept in as he got up early to jump into the pool, work himself a little before eating breakfast. He ate quickly. One of the older and friendlier staff that Joe had struck a conversation with the evening before, approached him and asked about Joe in broken English. When Ben told him that he’s still asleep, the staff asked if they could send breakfast upstairs for him and Ben thanked him for the kind gesture, endlessly amused by the fact that no matter where Joe goes, he always manages to get people to spoil him.

“Wake up sleepyhead, we’re exploring the citadel today.”

Joe grunted, nodded and sat up, eyes still closed.

“Still tired?”

Joe nodded. Ben sighed.

“Want to sleep in a little bit more?”

Joe shook his head.

“They’ll send your breakfast upstairs.” When Joe neither moved nor made any sound, Ben called his name. He turned his face to Ben’s direction, eyes still closed. He’s pouting a little.

What a baby, Ben thought, but he kind of like this Joe. At least he’s quiet. “Try to wake yourself up while I got our stuff ready for the day.”

Exploring the citadel turned out to be one of the most fun they had as they endlessly struck poses reminiscent of movies they could recognize were filmed there. There were lots of silly ones, especially the ones with Joe and his ‘inner Daenarys’ coming out. They spent the entire morning there, and as the afternoon got unbearably hot, they returned to the riad to soak themselves in the cool water of the pool. Ben let his body float, buoyed by the gentle swaying of the water as Joe submerged himself completely under. His body was rocked by more pronounced swaying as Joe came up and out of the water.

“I could get used to this.” Ben said.

“The pool?” Joe asked.

“And the palm and olive trees. Cool water, hot afternoon, desert heat. All this.”

They spent the evening relaxing, enjoying dinner with wine before turning in early, they would have to be up by dawn to leave for the Sahara desert. That early in the day, the desert is windy and cold, and Ben made sure Joe is properly layered and covered for the journey, using his experience on location in Dubai, filming in the Arabian desert, to good use. As the day breaks and got hotter they lose the layers, which they would need again later at night. Their Berber travel guides made sure their journey went smoothly. They passed by Draa Valley where there are more kasbahs to be seen, palm groves and a village where pottery-making is the mainstay.

They arrived at the camp where they’re staying for the night as the sun set; it’s set up like nomadic tents fit for ancient royals. There’s clean water, delicious food, more wine and Berber traditional drum beats, conversation with fellow travellers. Joe practiced some of the Berber phrases he learned, much to their guides’ delight. As expected, a little bit of wine was all the encouragement he needed to start joining the Berbers and their tribal desert music, moving in time with the drum beats as Ben watched on with a smile on his face. He’s happy, contented and possibly a little bit in love. 

The wine and the desert night must have gotten to my head, he told himself. 

The bonfire crackled and shone golden-red on Joe. Ben thought the older man looked darkly ethereal, and he’s ready to fall beyond in love with him, ready to go right into the fire. The desert was magic, Joe its sorcerer. And Ben was spellbound.

As the night got deeper and colder they slept under the tent, cozy and warm under their blankets. The bonfire kept on burning. Ben wanted to know if he would still be under the desert's spell when he wakes up tomorrow.

“Ben.” It’s Joe. “Did you drink too much wine last night?” He could hear the tch-tch in his voice, but there were also fingers in his hair, rubbing his scalp, and he almost purred in sheer, unadulterated happiness. Everything is dim, almost dark. “Don’t want to miss the desert sunrise now, do we?” For a moment, he didn’t understand what was happening. And why was his head so heavy and foggy? He was holding on to something warm and soft, an arm and a leg thrown over it almost possessively, and he didn’t want to let go--

--until he realized it’s Joe that he was holding on to.

That jolted him out of sleep right away, and he sat up almost immediately, only to be greeted by a long, numbing pain in his skull. He had to put his head in his hands for a while. Joe sat up too and started massaging his head. He put both hands on Ben’s temples, kneading gently, moving across and around, on the sides of his head, at the back, down to his neck. This feels so good. He didn’t realize he had said it out loud until he heard Joe chuckling. “I should have told you to go light on the wine. They’re local, pretty strong stuff.”

He wanted to tell Joe, no, this doesn’t feel like a hangover at all, but he didn’t want Joe to stop either, so he merely grunted and lied down again, putting his head on Joe’s lap.

He could definitely get used to this.

They got up and moving when one of guides drew the curtain slightly open with his hand, not looking in, just letting them know that they’re ready to go anytime now. Joe replied and thanked him.

The guides brought them a little eastward on camels to see the desert sunrise. The sun came into sight as if it was lighting amber fire that burned across the vastness of the sand and sky all around them. It was magnificent. On Joe’s pale skin, it looked like he was bathed in gold.

Ben continued clicking away on his camera for a while.

When Joe turned to him he was smiling, and Ben found himself smiling too.

“That was bucket-list worthy,” he said, and Ben agreed.

They continued moving until they reached an oasis town, a quiet, rustic place with friendly dwellers, always with mint tea at hand. After looking around the oasis and the buildings, some lived in, some abandoned, they made their way back to Ouarzazate again, through Draa.

It was late afternoon when they were back at the riad; almost evening. Ben missed the clear-water pool and Joe joined him. They had more mint tea, Joe was again chatting away with seemingly everyone over dinner, and Ben was happy to occasionally interject. But mostly he was smiling and laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and happy, and each time he looked at Joe talking and charming everyone at the dinner table, the feelings seemed to amplify.

When they went to bed that night it took a long time for Ben to finally fall asleep, but when he did, his sleep was dreamless and uninterrupted. He woke up feeling fresh and rejuvenated, ready to hit the road again. This time they’re driving to Marrakech on the winding road around the High Atlas mountain range. The view was amazing; snow-capped mountains lining their sight, punctuated by small villages clinging to the mountainsides. Joe decided earlier on to take a slightly more challenging route to Telouet through the Ounila Valley, where they were greeted with terraced valleys and orchards, abandoned houses carved deep into the mountains and more kasbahs, still very well preserved, sprawling and magnificent in their ruins. Ben hoped his camera wouldn’t run out of memory anytime soon.

When they arrived in Marrakech they immediately headed to the riad they’re staying in. It’s in a relatively quiet part of the city, which is saying a lot, since Marrakech is densely populated and its spirit is one of an endless open market. It’s also a lot more colourful than the sienna-hued desert areas and brown-grey of the mountainside. Shops filled with goods and trinkets of all kinds and shapes and small cafes lined the street, with people going in and out constantly. The walls are painted bright white or pastel hues, colourful tiles and geometrical shapes as interior decor. Ben immediately started clicking away at his camera the moment they arrived. Once they entered the riad, they were greeted by the indoor pool in the middle of the open courtyard, its edges tiled green, turquoise and white. It’s not as large and deep as the outdoor one in Ouarzazate, it’s more of a dipping pool if anything. Ben snapped a photo, and checked the display screen.

“We’re gonna have to get a new memory card.”

“Let’s get it when we go out to eat later,” Joe said, looking up and around the courtyard. “It’s gonna be hard to leave this place.” He shook his head apologetically.

They head upstairs, walking along the quiet and empty balcony to their room. The entire riad seemed to belong only to them, no other soul in sight, no sound heard from other rooms. Their room is spacious, with a large bed and a lounge chair big enough for an adult to lie down comfortably on. It’s decorated tastefully in that distinctively Moroccan style; the tilework beautiful and intricate and lining the walls and covering the floor, even in the bathroom. They decided to book this room despite the large bed because of the size and the view; the room with two single beds were much smaller too.

Joe let himself fall down on the bed, while Ben drew the curtain to the balcony. The view is of many other adobe buildings, rooftop patios and far beyond it is the High Atlas, still so majestic in its shadow. Ben began stripping down and out of his dusty travelling clothes, grabbing a pair of shorts from his bag and one of the towels provided in the room.

“Heading to the pool already?” Joe asked, sitting up with a groan.

“Yep.” He ran a hand through his hair, there’s fine dust in them. “You coming?”

“Yeah. Will join you in a minute.” Joe got up and grabbed his bag. Ben didn’t want to wait around for him to get undressed and changed so he went ahead and downstairs to the pool.

He got in and submerged himself completely in the water, and his entire body sighed at the cool relief that it’s been given. He likes the complete, bottled up silence underwater. Soon, from under the water, he could see Joe’s feet, making his way to the edge of the pool, sitting down with a small book, and two red apples in his hands. The thin book is a phrasebook he has been carrying around with him. He took one of the apples and bit into it.

Ben came up and out of the water.

“Look what I got,” Joe said, smirking and showing off the red apple in one hand.

“Were they from the room?” Ben asked, not recalling seeing any. Joe gestured to give him an apple, but Ben shook his head.

“No,” Joe answered around a mouthful. He swallowed before continuing. “Got them from a staff as I was coming here. There’s a kitchen apparently, but it’s hidden a little further away from the courtyard. She was carrying groceries and fruits so I helped her.”

“Been sweet-talking again, haven’t you?” Ben shook his head, but he’s smiling.

“Hey, I helped her.” Joe was indignant. “Even asked for another apple for you.”

Ben waded through the water to come closer to Joe. He stopped in front of the redhead and put an arm across his bare lap. Is it him or is Joe’s skin a lot less paler now since they got here? He seemed to have gotten a bit of healthy colour on them. He leaned forward and stole a bite from the apple in Joe’s hand.

"Hey!" Joe laughed before shaking his head disapprovingly.

“I’ll eat mine later,” Ben said, a little cheekily, but clearly liking the apple’s taste and sweetness.

“No way,” Joe protested, chuckling. “They’re both mine now. Thief.”

Ben just smiled, clearly up to something. “Put that down, I’m pulling you in,” he said suddenly, hooking his arm behind and around Joe’s knees.

“What--” Joe let out a surprised yelp as the younger man pulled him into the dipping pool. It wasn’t that the pool was deep or even remotely dangerous; Ben could stand perfectly fine in it and the water goes up just until his chest, but Joe had noticed an undercurrent of irritation and strain in Ben’s mood since they were in Agadir and then in Ouarzazate, but suddenly it seemed to have disappeared completely in Marrakech, replaced by this cheeky playfulness that Joe hadn’t seen for quite some time. Not since the last time they had taken a long trip away together like this, at least.

It took him awhile to realize that the sudden jump had their bodies pressed close together now, Ben’s arms around him and his arm around Ben’s neck, in each other’s attempt to not let the other person fall down into the water earlier. Ben always came up with some childish, playful ideas like this when he’s in the right mood. How immature, Joe thought, but he likes this Ben better anyway.

He told himself that he should pull away from Ben now, suddenly realizing that not only they’re too close, they’re also wet and almost naked. But neither of them seemed to want to move.

“Hey,” Ben said, and Joe thought he could hear his voice shaking a little, “Remember you told me the other day Chloe thought that we’re together?”

Joe looked straight and unwaveringly into Ben’s green eyes. “Yeah.”

“Do you--” he started and paused, swallowing. “Do you really think it’s funny?”

“No.” He didn’t know why it came out of his mouth almost like a whisper. Suddenly it seemed like the pool water he’s standing in had turned warm, or maybe it was Ben’s arms around him, or the heat he could feel pooling at the base of his gut, and now spreading everywhere in his body, to his head, and colouring his cheeks.

On the other hand, Ben looked like he had lost all colour from his face.

“Me neither,” he said. It must have been barely a whisper too, considering how closely they’re standing in each other’s arms right now, but Ben’s voice sounded too loud in his ears, like the sheepskin drum banging and clear voiced singing piercing the silence of the desert. Ben had been unusually quiet the entire first day they were out on the Sahara, and Joe had tried every little, subtle trick he knew to lift the mood of the younger man, to no avail. He ate less than usual, and had been steadily sipping glass after glass of wine, and his eyes--Joe knew Ben’s eyes better than anyone--they’re filled to the brim with things that were threatening to break and spill anyway no matter how much he--or they, for that matter--tried to hide.

“Joe, I--”

It felt like this conversation that they’re struggling to have, with stuttering words and half-whispers, was the only conversation they have been waiting to have since forever. Since they first met and Joe thought Ben hated him, the American actor who’s playing the bass player of a British iconic rock band. Since Joe’s birthday when Ben apologized and kissed him with an apple between their mouths. Since they hate being away and apart from each other’s side. Since they started using endearments in texts, like they don’t really mean it. Since they first snapped a photo of Ben kissing Joe’s cheek and sent it to Gwil, and it became a normal thing for them to do to rile the poor man up. They’re all just a joke, after all. Joe used to think it didn’t matter, the feelings he had for the younger man, until he learned to read Ben’s eyes, and he could see something more in them. But he kept telling himself it was absurd, it was all merely his imagination.

That is until they found themselves standing here, in a dipping pool with the sun shining through the open, unroofed courtyard, arms around each other, him looking straight into Ben’s eyes and the younger man looking like he’s about to stop breathing, stumbling and choking on his own words.

So Joe did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in, as close as possible without actually touching Ben’s lips, closed his eyes, and kissed him.

There was that initial second where they pretended like they were playing it coy, like they were being careful with each other. But Joe took that half step closer to Ben, and the water around buoyed them on, until two steps and a half later, Ben was pressed against the tiled wall of the pool, and Joe was kissing him with one hand under his jaw, his thumb grazing the corner of Ben’s lips, and the other arm slung over his shoulder, around his neck, keeping his close, even as Ben slips both his arms tighter around Joe, very clearly not going to let him go. At least not anytime soon. They pulled apart for a moment, just enough to breathe, before kissing open mouthed again, savouring each other like making up for lost time. There’s a hint of apple sweetness still on their tongues, but other than that they’re just tasting and breathing in each other, so familiar and yet so new. And touching skin. There’s just so much skin. So when Ben’s roaming hands rather deliberately ran along and inside the waistband of Joe’s shorts, causing him to shudder involuntarily and pull away, he moaned a little into Ben’s neck.

“Wait--” he said, lips still on skin.

“Wait what?” Ben sounded a little confused.

“Wait until we get upstairs?” Joe offered.

“Don’t say things like that.” Ben closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together before kissing Joe again.

“Like what?” Joe said when Ben let go of his lips to start kissing the skin along his jawline instead.

“Like that.” Ben said, catching Joe's upper lip between his lip and teeth.

“Like, let’s get upstairs, get dressed and go out so we can get the memory card for your camera and something to eat?” He was teasing him.

Ben made a sound in his throat that sounded clearly like a protest and kissed Joe again. “No, like, get upstairs so I can kiss you all day long like this.”

And Joe could honestly, really, see no point in arguing with that, so he kissed Ben one more time.

[sangeetainternational]

Are you looking for a type of tent that is both fashionable and stable at the same time? if so then you should consider purchasing maharaja tent. Maharaja Tent are perhaps the biggest type of tent when it boils down to the size of the tent material. This also defines their capacity to handle a humongous crowd without any difficulty. Reputed companies manufacturing Maharaja tent would agree that the design of this particular type of tent is such that it can easily handled strong winds, thereby, ensuring that even difficult weather does not spoil the mood of the event.

[noura-7878-blog]

The majlis

The majlis is the traditional center of life in the arab world. It will always be the most important part in the arab culture. Majlis traditions has passed through generations, and will keep passing through other generations. As we know since majlis has been from a long time but still people are holding with it. Majlis doesn’t have any specific design or style but its has the same purpose. In the past the majlis was a tent and also nowadays people still  design there majlis as tent. With time people start to design different styles for majlis. There are the modern, Moroccan, arab style and tent. People can design there own majlis or contract with a company that will design the whole majlis.

Majlis is a sitting place. Its contain sofa or couch, but a lot of them were people can gather and talk. The majlis is important for the arab world because its our culture that we have to hold with it, and the purpose of majlis that can serve peoples needs. People can host their guests in majlis and they can sit together and drink a coffee or tea and have a warm beautiful conversation. And majlis can also be for family were they can gather and catch up new life stuff. Also children can invite their friends to play with them. So as we can see majlis are for all. In the past they use majlis to solve general problems , And also the sheikh gather with citizens to hear their problems and solve them. Competitions also held in majlis, were poets challenge each other. Or just have a warm poetic night with a fire.  Experience was passed through majlis were people with wisdom and had live a long life talk about life and they pass knowledge to others. Nowadays in this hard situation “covid-19” people use  their majlis to host people who want to donate their blood to save others.

   In conclusion these purposes that I mentioned its important to arab people because its strengthens the relations between families and friends. And its cultivated in a person soul to maintain their culture.

[bens100days]

Morocco

Morocco has been fascinating so far. As you'd expect the far north around Tangier is fertile and populous, with the land becoming increasingly barren and deserted until the sand envelops everything (and I haven't even got into the Sahara proper yet). The country is hilly throughout, not just in the Atlas mountains. There is a lot of wind that builds up through the day and by mid-afternoon I have to really lean the bike into it so as not to be blown off the road. The wind also creates sand clouds that swirl up and blow across the road but fortunately you can see them coming before they hit you. Mini tornadoes of sand. 

The rural areas are much more interesting (to me) than the cities. Donkeys everywhere, and guys making olive oil and argan oil. The coastline is jagged but there are always a few fishermen around - a tough ask given the rocky cliffs. One chap I spoke to had caught nothing all day and was shattered from climbing around for hours searching out the best spot. Women set up little shacks near the beaches and collect shellfish.

There are regular police checkpoints and I have been waved down four times and asked what I'm about, and had my passport checked and photos taken of me and the bike/bike's number plate. All standard procedure; they stop the locals too.

I haven't met any other bikers as yet, and only a couple of Germans driving to The Gambia in a van to drop off footballs and clothes for a charity there. They kindly shared their dwindling stash of Saxony potatoes with me one evening. A Swiss family touring the coast looking for the best windsurfing conditions also treated me to breakfast on one occasion which is always appreciated after a night in the tent. 

Due to a general lack of other travellers around, in the rural areas where I have been in any case, I have done all the riding solo so far. When I get to Dakhla I will ask around to see if anyone is crossing Mauritania and the main part of the desert as that will be a trickier stretch where company would be welcome. If not I will have to go it alone. Either way I have been experimenting over the last day or so with options for carrying extra fuel as the bike's tank will not be sufficient for that task unaided. An extra 10 litres or so should do the trick, and a cheap container which can be disposed of once in Dakar.

One of the best experiences of Morocco was a couple of evenings ago when I camped just outside the town of Tiznit and ambled in. Traditional Moroccan architecture in the old part of the town and buzzing with life until late; all the little shops and vegetable/fish/meat stalls still open and backstreet cafes everywhere to stop for a coffee and observe the goings-on. I have done similar in other places but for some reason I enjoyed that town/evening the most. A thoroughly pleasant atmosphere, and much more relaxed than towns in daytime.

A fresh baguette in the morning costs the equivalent of 9p and a tagine (the best and cheapest are usually available by the roadside) anywhere between £2.50 and £5, which is a bargain although I can only have so many more tagines!

[morocco-desert-tours-trips-blog]

Morocco is truly a wonderful place to visit. This special North African country combines a amazing natural landscape with ancient architecture, a rich culture, and famously hospitable  and kind people. That's why Morocco desert tours are such a popular holiday choice.

You might have heard about miracle Moroccan desert sand dunes full of camels, Bedouins and luxury tents. You have an opportunity to see them! Remember that getting to any desert destination in Morocco will take a long time. But you won't regret because Morocco travel will make Aladdin fairytale come true.

 Abdou tours offers a collection of best Morocco tours starting from different places in Morocco. Our company customizes unforgettable Morocco trips from different spots of this wonderful country. There are a lot of things to do in Morocco and we know what to do in Morocco!

 The most popular tours that we offer starts from Fes as we are based in Fes, and are totally customisable to fit your wishes, they can also take departure from Marrakesh, Tangier and Casablanca. The most featured tour type is desert tours, this special trip from Abdou tours can be one of the most thrilling activities you can ever engage in during a vacation here in Morocco, we had visitors from all around the world.

Comes second Happy Land tours and excursions. Heard about the happy land? Love to take a tour and enjoy the finest of weeds? Yeah! So do we. We

also love weed, and nothing beats a vacation where that's part of the equation. Ketama is the happy

land you would not want to turn your back on, it is a must-go region to save another iota of fun in Morocco while spending your holiday in Ketama and also the blue city: Chefchaouen trips. Chefchaouen is known to be one of the most peaceful and safest places in Northwest, Morocco. It’s well recognised for the attractive, blue-coloured buildings of its old town.

Now, Let us help you plan your trip so you can discover a lot of breathtaking destinations in Morocco.

Now, Let us help you plan your trip so you can discover a lot of breathtaking destinations in Morocco, visit our website: abdoutours.com choose from the wide range of tours, excursions and services, or contact us directly on whatsup, facebook or email to adapt our services for your needs

[bestofmoroccotour]

Best of Morocco Vacations and Cultural Tours

Morocco is a land of beauty, magic, and mountains. Morocco is a fascinating country involving stunning landscapes. Travelers to Morocco travelers can indulge in several exciting activities. To make the most exciting and best Morocco tours, you should research the places and activities to try that will turn you totally romantic.

Morocco is a land of temptations that lures tourists making them surrender to all the beauty of the place. It is always a dream to visit Morocco, one of the best places to visit with the biggest of tourist attractions and spots. Demand for Moroccan vacations has risen significantly each year to explore this enchanting kingdom that stretches from the imperial cities and the Atlas Mountains to the sand dunes of the Sahara Desert.

Morocco as a Tourist Destination

Morocco is one of the major destinations for international tourists traveling to Africa. Morocco recorded a total of 3 million tourists in 2020, ranking 53rd in the world in absolute numbers. Comparing the number of tourists to Morocco's total population it emerges a very respectable picture. The tourism sector alone generated about US$4.51 billion in Morocco. This equates to 3.4% of the gross domestic product.

Most Visited Tourist Places of Morocco

Rabat – Beautiful Capital City- Located on the coast, Rabat is the country's capital and one of Morocco's top tourist attractions. The year-round good weather and quiet Moroccan beaches are just a few of the reasons for its popularity. Its exquisite experience makes it one of the best places in Morocco!

Marrakech - Marrakech, also known as the Red City, is the kingdom's fourth largest city after Casablanca, Fez and Tangier, with a population of over one million and remains the country's tourist capital.

The best Morocco Tour starts from Roman ruins to historic monuments, beautiful places to astonishing colonial structures, highest mountains to tranquil lakes & rivers, golden sand dunes to vast cedar forests, and its urban settings & rural areas enough to mesmerize you.  Visiting Morocco would be a unique experience. It should not be missed. Morocco Tours will meet your expectations of a high-end tour.

Morocco is a great example of how a country continues to recognize the past, embrace the present and look to the future. Other cities such as Casablanca, Tangier, Chefshoouen, Ouarzazate, Essaouira, El Hei Jadida, Agadir, and many others seamlessly blend the past with modernity.

Morocco Cultural Tours

Moroccan culture tells stories of ethics and civilization, people, their behavior, traditions, festivals, and religions that are considered most important to the local people. Moroccan art and culture are excellent. , the Moroccan cultural language is completely different. See Berber tents and experience camel trekking. The tourists will see many things such as the Fes guest house, the Moroccan climate, Moroccan women, Moroccan food, Moroccan education, and much more. The French-Muslim fusion makes Morocco a unique travel destination.

Best Of Morocco Tours is a world-class tour operator offering tailored Morocco Cultural Tours according to the needs and budgets of the customers. The tour company is known to be offering a full-range of tour & travel services. The company has a stable business relationship with travel services, event planners hoteliers, local guides, transporters & others. To know the tour services in detail, visit the website.