#probably arabic to fit the cover story

[minyard-05]

okay here's my take on the perfect court (tattoos/markings, i have a different set of thoughts about the concept as a whole)

roman numerals are cool, dgmw, but somehow they feel too cool for what the Court is. because like. riko and kevin wrote those numbers on their faces as kids, probably with sharpies, back when exy was just a game and the ravens were just a team. so to me it makes the most sense for them to be in arabic numerals (1,2) rather than roman ones because to me it feels like there's something almost inherently childlike about it? as in them literally writing the numbers on their faces, probably not too long after they learned their basic numbers, and i feel like at some point they tried making them look like their jerseys too or something.

the perfect court only exists because riko says it does, and he created it inside an echo chamber of the nest and the press that was willing to fuel his ego for a good story. riko was preparing the perfect court for people who weren't even ravens, i mean he had a number set aside for andrew even after andrew refused. he was convinced that he was able to build the Court he wanted, purely because he was king, and not only did his Court exist only inside the nest, but riko did as well. him dying after finals was truly the only way to end the story, because if none of the ravens left the nest well-adjusted, riko never would've been able to fit alongside a pro team. without his castle, his court, he's nothing.

and outside of the nest we see just how quickly it all falls apart. kevin gets his tattoo covered up. neil's is burned off by his father (semi unrelated but still relevant). the only person left with his Court tattoo is jean, which is a whole other can of worms, but the point is that the perfect court was always a child's game and nothing more. the entire existence of it centers around riko and kevin being 1 and 2 and everybody else following after, but that's never been true. riko's arrogance and his belief that through force he can shape the world into what he wants it to be is exactly what killed him, and it killed his Court too.

[youssefguedira]

V, JoeNicky & Nile

V. An abandoned or empty place.

When Joe pulls the sheet off the couch it kicks up enough dust that it makes Nile sneeze. The couch underneath is old, wooden frame rotting, fabric stained and full of holes where moths have eaten away at it. 

“Sorry,” Joe says to Nile when she finally manages to get the sneezing under control. “Didn’t realise it was that bad.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the couch. Nile looks it over.

“There’s no saving that,” she says, wiping at her eyes. She can heal from falling over ten stories, but she can’t get away from allergies.

Joe frowns. “I liked that couch.”

The house is older than anywhere else they’ve brought her, and has been abandoned for long enough that it’s falling apart. But through some trick of posing as their own sons, or something, Joe and Nicky still own it, even if there’s a giant hole in the roof and all the windows are broken. Why they’d decided to come back here, Nile doesn’t know, but it’s a nice enough area, and a good distraction from, well. Everything. Growing back a leg, she’s discovered, is not fun. 

From one of the other rooms – she thinks it’s the kitchen, she’s not actually sure where Nicky had wandered to – there’s the sound of something breaking and crashing to the ground, and a muffled curse. 

Joe makes a questioning noise in the vague direction of the kitchen. A few moments later, Nicky appears in the doorway, covered in dust. “I am okay,” he says. “But I think we will need to go out to eat tonight.”

“Nothing?” 

Nicky shakes his head. “Unless you want to start a fire and go hunt some rabbits.”

Joe grins. “Just like old times, right?”

Nile shakes her head firmly, which makes Nicky smile. She loves them, but there’s no way they’re doing that. 

“We can probably clear out enough space in here,” Joe says, gesturing to the floor. “Get the sleeping bags out of the car. Probably have to start a fire anyway, but…”

Nile looks around again while Joe says something to Nicky in Arabic that makes him laugh. The house is falling apart, sure, but it’s structurally stable, and the bones are all there. It could be something. They’ve got time to make it something. 

Nicky is the one who goes for pizza in the end – he doesn’t trust Nile and Joe to order it if left to their own devices – while they try to clear out a space in the living room. Eventually, though, after Nile has another sneezing fit, Joe suggests they just take the sleeping bags outside instead, which works out a lot better. He sets about starting a fire with practiced ease while Nile sets out the sleeping bags around it. They’re far enough away from civilisation that she can’t hear cars passing by, which is kind of surreal, and the stars are brighter than she’s ever seen them. 

When Nicky gets back, two boxes balanced on one arm and a bottle of wine in the other, he looks over their makeshift camp and laughs. “Just like old times, then?” he asks.

Joe grins. “Except we have pizza.”

“And actual sleeping bags,” Nile says.

“Ah, these modern inventions could never quite match the comfort of a pile of furs,” Joe says wistfully. Nile gives him a look. She’s ninety percent sure that one’s bullshit, but she can never quite tell with him. 

Nicky sets down the pizza boxes, and jogs back to the car to grab the pack of plastic wine glasses they’d bought before they got here. 

“We should’ve bought marshmallows,” Nile says. “Could have made s’mores.”

“Well, we’ll have to go to the hardware store tomorrow anyway,” Joe points out. “And I think it’ll be a little while before we can actually sleep in there.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Nicky agrees.

[hyperbole-smut]

I'd like to tell you the story about how I met my first boyfriend and then had my first threesome, in that order, but I don't remember most of it because I was overstimulated. What I can do is give you the parts I do remember, and maybe you can stitch them together into something coherent.

Okay, first off, I'm a bi male, 6'0", of Arabic descent and extremely shy. My girlfriend, who instigated the threesome, was straight, 5'3", and mixed Hispanic (I'll call her Dee from here on out), and she has a thing for men who are a lot taller than her. My boyfriend was 5'8", and what Americans call redbone, and we just call red (I'll call him Dan from now on). The reason for giving the descriptions will probably help explain how things progressed the way they did, or not.

Dee's birthday had passed a week before, and my own was only a couple of weeks away when she said that she wanted a MFM threesome, since I had missed her day. She just happened to know a guy who would be willing to be the third, and she invited him to come over today to do it if I agreed. She spent the morning walking around in just some lacy panties, and would occasionally sit in my lap to try to comfort me. After about three hours of waiting, Dan showed up, and I got my first look at him. He was pretty enough, especially since I have a preference for guys like him, but that's what made me nervous. I was, and still am, closeted, and I didn't want to get into a situation where I could watch but not touch something I wanted. He, on the other hand, kept looking at me, even though Dee was there with almost everything on display.

Dee took the lead then, and undressed us both, even though I tried to hide my erection and made it more difficult for her. She then told me, in an authoritative way, that I would do everything she told me to, and I agreed without thinking. Dan, on the other hand, hardly looked at Dee, instead glancing over at me as he got most of his clothes off on his own. I remember thinking that he's probably laughing at me in his head, but he told me that he was trying to see if what Dee said was true and that I did have the bigger dick (lengthwise, no, but I am thicker than he is, and according to them both, it gets bigger once it's in).

Once we were all naked (I don't know when her panties came off, but I do remember that I was the only one standing and trying to cover myself up) she got onto her knees and said that she wanted to try fitting both of us into her mouth at once. Dan stood right next to me, and I could feel his skin touching mine all along my right side, and I didn't know whether I wanted to put an arm around his waist or to pull away. He didn't have the same problem, though, and wrapped one arm around me and took hold of Dee's head with the other. As she started licking both of our shafts, I tried concentrating on the sensation, but Dan's hand started to wander down. By the time Dee managed to get both of the heads in her mouth, his hand was cupping my ass, and I was having trouble concentrating. Dan was rocking slightly, and I could feel his cock rubbing against mine while Dee played with them both.

She stopped after a few more minutes, I think, and then told me to lie down on the couch. She then motioned to Dan, and he lay with me, our legs intertwined and our cocks right next to each other. Dee then kneeled next to the couch and started jerking us off together, occasionally licking up the precum that she didn't rub over the both of our shafts. I remember that I was still nervous, and it took me longer to get ready to cum because of that, but Dan didn't have that problem, and started moving against her hand (and me) again.

When he came, Dee kept going, but she paid more attention to my dick, and she made me start cumming before he finished. She then licked up as much as she could, and pulled us both into a sitting position. She put her hand behind my head and pulled me into a kiss, and I was absently grinding against Dan as I got my first taste of our mixed cum. Ske turned away from me, without breaking contact with my face (causing some of the cum on her cheek to smear against mine) and gave Dan a similar kiss. By then my inhibitions were mostly gone, and when she turned both of our faces to each other, I traded my first kiss with another man.

While I was getting caught up in the kiss, Dee found that this was extremely erotic to her, and she leaned back to start fingering herself as I started getting into what I was doing. She kept it up until we both felt something warm splash against us, and saw her flailing around, squirting and still trying to rub her clit. As I leaned over to her, Dan's hand came down between us, and he started rubbing both of our shafts again.

I was fully hard again by the time Dee calmed down, and she pulled me down and onto her, saying she wanted me inside right now. I didn't waste time, and once I fully entered her, she wrapped her legs around me and she gestured to Dan. I felt him move off of the couch and behind me, but it was only when he and Dee spread me open that I guessed what was going to happen.

Feeling him slide into me, with some of our cum and his own precum acting as lube, was almost a holy experience. The feeling of being filled, while being wrapped in the silky tightness of Dee, made me feel like this was where I belonged. Being embraced by the both of them, as well as the sensation of Dan moving inside of me, was more than I could process, and I simply enjoyed the sensations until my partners came. Dee came first, clawing at my back and grinding her clit against me as she tightened and tried milking the cum out of my cock before I was ready. Then Dan thrust himself as deep into me as he could, and I felt the heat in the pit of my stomach before I came, and Dee bit down on my shoulder to keep from screaming in ecstasy.

I don't remember much after that, but they recorded parts of it and we watched them for our second date together. Among the highlights was Dan cumming on both of our faces and me licking her clean, Dee holding his face down onto my cock as I came, Dee riding me as Dan pounded into me behind her and finally all three of us lying on the floor, sticky and limp after cumming all over each other.

As a final note, Dan is gay. He wasn't even interested in doing anything directly with Dee, since he prefers Arabic men over Latinos, but she wanted me to have my first experience with another man for my birthday so she called him. He never let Dee do anything for him during our first threesome, unless I was also directly involved. Later on, Dee would insist that we all share a bed on the weekends, but that was mainly because she enjoys watching two men fuck. I didn't mind then, but once the three of us broke up, I find sleeping by myself very lonely. I hope you enjoy it, and that you can probably make something coherent out of this.

This was a cute and fun read 🤗 Glad you had such a positive first ecperience, both in a threesome and gay experience 🩷

Hope you've found the peace and opportunity to be open today, and that you are happy and confident in yourself 🩷

[saturniandevil]

May 2024 Important Dates

AKA my notes from The Astrology Podcast's May Forecast.

April recap: on the 8th we had the solar eclipse in Aries that covered much of the United States, during a Mercury retrograde and right before a Mars-Saturn conjunction--all also in Aries! In international news this connects to Iran's retaliation for Israel's strike on its Syrian embassy. A tragic eclipse story is of astrologer Danielle Ayoka, whose death after a mental breakdown was sensationalized by the LA times as part of modern-day Satanic Panic. Our hosts urge the wider astrological community to learn more about how to support others who may be going through a mental health crisis and extend sympathy to the affected families. The inflammatory reporting also connects to a larger story of backlash against astrology as Saturn approaches a conjunction with Neptune in Pisces and the latter leaves the sign.

On April 10th we had an exact Mars-Saturn conjunction in Pisces, which a previous forecast predicted would correspond with issues of contaminated water, maritime warfare, and flooding. On the day of the conjunction, the EPA issued the first national limit for forever chemicals in the water. Saturn signifies both the restrictions and the longevity of the chemicals. There was also torrential flooding in Dubai, Russia, and Kazakhstan.

Jupiter conjoined Uranus in Taurus on April 20th; these planets only align every 14 years. Jupiter-Uranus indicates uprisings and revolutions: the last one corresponded with the Arab Spring, and there was also one in 1968-70 during Vietnam War protests, as well as the French and American revolutions. The student protests at Columbia (and later other universities) calling for divestment and ceasefire in Gaza are a direct connection here (the current encampment was directly inspired by student protestors doing the same thing in 1968 to protest the Vietnam War). These protests began on April 17th and saw a boom in media coverage when the conjunction went exact. The 1969 conjunction was in Libra; in Venus-ruled signs this alignment signals uprisings of "we don't want to be at war!" If these protests did start right at dawn on the 17th, this would have the Jupiter-Uranus conjunction (already exact by degree, but not minute) rising, fitting for an action that has sparked events across the nation.

Another Jupiter-Uranus story includes Congress passing a bill wrapping together military funding for Ukraine, Israel, and Taiwan with a probable TikTok ban. A historical connection here is the passing of the Lend-Lease bill in 1941, a precursor to the US entering WW2. With the US Uranus return coming up (which corresponds to the Civil War and WW2), Chris is nervous. Other conjunction stories include the restoration of net neutrality on April 25th (Taurus ruling basic necessities and resources), the Department of Transportation mandating airlines to give refunds (the Wright Brothers flew under a Jupiter-Uranus conjunction), the FTC put a ban on employer non-compete agreements, and a VW factory in Tennessee successfully unionized as part of UAW--one of the first unionized auto factories in the South! These regulation stories also fit with Saturn bringing rules and regulations.

We're entering the month of May right as Mars enters his domicile Aries, freeing us of the Saturn conjunction, Mercury stationing direct, and Venus in her home sign of Taurus.

May 2nd - Pluto stations Retrograde This occurs at 2 degrees of Aquarius and will see Pluto backtrack into Capricorn for the final time this summer. Retrograde stations intensify the significations of a particular planet in that sign, and this particular one occurs with a square from Venus in Taurus and copresence with the Moon. Pluto in Aquarius developments include developments in AI & technology, and with Venus signifying the arts we can expect AI image/video developments. On a personal level Venus-Pluto can indicate deep, transformative relationships as well as control, manipulation, and power dynamics. Venus in Taurus also activates the Jupiter-Uranus conjunction, especially in the realm of our relationship to the natural world & differentiating what is real from what is fake. On a more positive note, this is a good time to indulge in creative projects, and with a retrograde especially, returning your idea to its original state. Venus-Pluto also relates to issues of women's rights and bodily autonomy (ex. Roe v. Wade).

May 7th - New Moon in Taurus

At 18 degrees of Taurus, the New Moon forms a sextile to Saturn (17♓), and soon approaches the Jupiter-Uranus conjunction (orb 3) just a few degrees away. Jupiter-Uranus themes will become more pronounced collectively and in our personal lives, likely bringing new chapters in the stories discussed in the recap. Also in Taurus is Venus, who's slowing down after her zip through Aries and emphasizes relationships as she brings us back down to earth. Meanwhile, Mars in Aries doesn't make many aspects to other planets this month (even copresent Mercury is moving away from him), making him a bit of a renegade, but also not interfering with other planets. On the 25th Mars will reach the degree of the eclipse (18♈), so those affected by the eclipse, especially night charts, will definitely see extra focus in this part of their lives, while day charts can expect some challenges.

May 12th/13th - Sun conjoins Uranus (not pictured) This Taurus season sees the Jupiter-Uranus conjunction continually activated. Rather than the usual relaxation, we'll hear the bells of rebellion tolling over and over. (Another date to watch is May 18th, when the Sun hits Jupiter.)

May 13th - Mercury enters Taurus He exits his retrograde shadow before this ingress and at the same time Venus sextiles Saturn, clarifying conversations. We'll feel like we're finally done with some hassles. Mercury's ingress into Taurus also focuses the solid majority of our energy in this area, rather than splitting it with Aries. However, he squares Pluto immediately upon entering, so before smooth sailing we'll have to deal with intense focus, digging up the past, and uncovering secrets. This might deepen conversations as Mercury treats the same issues Venus brought up with her square to Pluto earlier this month, but now with more distance and calculation than the tender emotions, or it can amplify those issues with a microphone.

May 14th - Electional chart for the month (not pictured)

May is actually one of the best months for electional astrology all year, free of Mars retrograde and most outer planet tensions that will overshadow the later part of the year. This selection is for about 12:30PM local time. This should give Leo rising, and the Ascendant ruler the Sun is in Taurus within 3 degrees of a conjunction to Jupiter in the 10th house. Venus is also in Taurus, squaring a Leo Moon in the first house. This is a great chart for 10th house matters like career, reputation, and public image, with the Ascendant ruler fully bonified by Jupiter and supported by both benefics. With the first house connection Diana suggests this is also a good time to update your work wardrobe or possibly website in ways that may seem unexpected. It's a good time to do something unique or innovative with Uranus placed so prominently. It's not as good for ninth house matters like foreign travel, as Mars is there in a day chart.

May 18th - Venus conjunct Uranus, Sun conjunct Jupiter Venus conjoins Uranus (23♉) at the same time that the Sun conjoins Jupiter (28♉), bringing us optimism and excitement. It's extremely buoyant and can be disruptive simply by virtue of so much happening at once. It's a Saturday, so a great time to have fun, but be prepared to sleep in late the next day. We can find new relationships that begin quickly but burn out fast too, and run into unexpected good luck.

May 19th/20th - Mars conjoins North Node (not pictured) The next day the Moon enters Libra and opposes this configuration, activating it. Mars takes the place of the Sun in an eclipse, reactivating the stories that these Aries-Libra eclipses have been pinging in our lives. Mars's anger may be in response to people crossing our social boundaries represented by the Moon in Libra. With the Moon bringing in the South Node and Mars's severing associations, we may become aware of things we need to relinquish or cut off. Picking fights can lead to consequences you really don't want.

May 20th - Sun enters Gemini This ingress foreshadows the stellium of planets in Taurus shifting to Gemini.

May 23rd - Full Moon in Sagittarius, Venus conjunct Jupiter, Jupiter sextile Neptune, Venus enters Gemini

This Full Moon is opposite the Venus-Jupiter conjunction (29♉), both of whom sextile Neptune (29♓), and when the Moon exactly opposes the Sun it sextiles Pluto. This is a more positive and optimistic lunation than what we've been seeing so far: the best of the night sect with the best of the day sect. Agreements made during this time will have staying power, and it's a good sign for peace in world events. Neptune connotes idealism in these accords--sometimes you need ungrounded hopes and dreams to go on. Venus-Jupiter conjunctions can also bring too much of a good thing, so be careful not to overindulge. This is also a good time to enjoy material and sensual comforts. It's the perfect day for a picnic!

Venus joins the Sun in Gemini soon after.

May 25th - Jupiter enters Gemini Jupiter spends about a year in a sign, and we'll be shifting from slow, grounded Taurus to mutable, airy Gemini. He'll be trining Pluto in Aquarius while here, accelerating technological advancements like AI and innovations in transportation. Diana uses the image of lots of busy bumblebees trying to collect lots of different information very rapidly. It might be overwhelming, and we could see heightened allergens. This also sets up the next month, where we'll have lots of activity in Gemini...all of which will square Saturn in Pisces! It'll be a lively air and water show with changes in short-term travel. In our personal lives, the combination of Venus & Jupiter will alleviate some of the issues we've been feeling in mutable signs, where places we've felt weighed down and restricted will receive some levity and buoyancy. Whichever house Gemini occupies in your chart will see some smooth sailing for awhile. Use this positive support in Taurus and Gemini to make hay while the sun shines!

May 31st - Mercury conjunct Uranus Mercury is the last planet to ping Jupiter-Uranus conjunction; in general there is a lot of planetary activity in Taurus this month, really activating whichever house that falls in for individuals. Mercury brings a megaphone to the final blast of energy from Taurus. Surprising news, unexpected communications, and conversations with unlikely sources are in order. Uranus-Mercury can open up possibilities that you never could have predicted, and are good for thinking on your feet. Both planets are associated with the nervous system--it's a good day to be cautious with your caffeine consumption.

Whether you need to be active or just rest, take advantage of the stability and help this month!

[fantasticelephants]

Woolly Mammoths: The Lady's Not for Cloning - by Barry Evans

Beth Zaiken's reconstruction of a woolly mammoth. Courtesy of the artist

When I asked self-styled "museum artist" Beth Zaiken if I could use her evocative painting of a mammoth for a story, she was quick to point out that the image I attached was not just a mammoth, it was a woolly mammoth. Turns out, mammoths came in many shapes and sizes, with woolly mammoths particularly celebrated over other species because they were the last to go extinct. Indeed, we have over 500 early depictions of woolly mammoths in dozens of caves in Spain, France and Russia, the earliest of which were painted 35,000 years ago. (Anatomically modern humans are thought to have reached Europe nearly 50,000 years ago.)

Cave paintings are just one way we know about these magnificent creatures. They are, in fact, the best studied of all extinct animals because so many frozen carcasses have been found, mostly in Siberia and Alaska. For thousands of years, they co-existed with humans, leading to speculation that our ancestors hunted them to extinction. Best bet is that it was a combination of over-hunting and climate change, the latter greatly reducing its habitat. They nearly made it to the present, though! Although most groups went extinct soon after the end of the most recent ice age, around 11,500 years ago, some isolated populations survived much longer. A herd living on Wrangel Island, the large Russian island northwest of the Bering Strait, probably survived until 4,000 years ago, meaning they were around for a good thousand years after the Nile pyramids were built. 

Mammoths are typically shown in movies and cartoons as living in a snowy wasteland, but their actual habitat was "tundra steppe," similar to today's Russian steppes. They were herbivores, spending up to an estimated 20 hours a day eating grasses and sedges to support their intake of up to 400 pounds of food a day, putting them in the same dietary class as modern elephants. Their adaptations to the cold included (of course) hairy coats — actually two coats: long "guard hairs" on the outside overlaying a short, softer undercoat, which in turn covered a 4-inch layer of fat just under the skin. Their short ears and tails helped minimize heat loss and frostbite. They lived to about 60 years old.

Most of the news about mammoths these days discusses the click-bait possibility of resurrecting the species — that is, bringing woolly mammoths back to life using DNA from soft tissue material and hair follicles in their frozen corpses. That became a talking point after the genome was completely mapped about a decade ago, when researchers showed that extinct woolly mammoths and extant African elephants share about 99 percent of their genomes. 

One promoter of this idea, aptly named Colossal Biosciences, explains on its website that it plans to: "Use gene editing tools that work like scissors to cut [African] elephant DNA and provide a mammoth sequence to incorporate into elephant cells in the same location." Reinsert the engineered egg into the uterus of the unwitting mom-to-be and 22 months later, the elephant's calf is born with woolly mammoth genes. Whether there's enough usable DNA in long-dead, frozen mammoths is debatable, as is the morality of the venture. Happily (for this writer), several prominent geneticists have come out in opposition to this kind of "if we can do it, we should do it" caprice. If the de-extinction effort is successful, a wildlife reserve in Siberia, given the hopeful name "Pleistocene Park" (shades of Jurassic Park), has been designated as a future home for the de-extincted critters.

One final tidbit: The word "mammoth" probably derives from "mehemot," Arabic for "Behemoth." In the biblical Book of Job, the Behemoth was said to be one of the two monsters created by God early in creation, the other being Leviathan, a monster whale. Which is somehow fitting for one of the most majestic creatures to have ever lived.

[hazardsoflove]

u rbed the top 10 thing a while ago but top 10 indie songs you want band guys to cover <3 go crazy

THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME okay this isn’t in any particular order but time to go crazy

ryan ross + song for myla goldberg by the decemberists. i just really think he would fucking body this like i already know my guy can do folk and tell stories with songs and that’s Literally what the decemberists do and this song specifically i think he would do an incredible job covering this like the music is so fucking up his alley god it would fucking slay. there’s SO many other decemberists song i would love for him to cover too like all of the crane wife and o valencia but i just think myla goldberg in particular would be so perfect

frank iero + born to beg by the national. i would pay so much money for this i just think he has the voice for it it’s not as deep as matt berningers but i still think it fits the national and the like what he writes music abt i feel kinda connects to what the national writes about and i just think he would fucking KILL covering the national. i have a huge list of songs of theirs i want him to cover but born to beg would be my number one choice for him followed probably by slow show or i need my girl

gerard way + love love love by the mountain goats. there’s so many other mountain goats songs i would would kill for them to cover as well (no children) but i really think his voice would be best suited for love love love and i think it would sound soooo good w the guitar you know. yeah

william beckett + the boy with the arab strap by belle & sebastian. i just think this would be such a perfect song for him idk how to explain why he needs to cover belle & sebastian but he does it’s like. the indie pop of it all he would fucking kill it i just know it. the blues are still blue is another song of theirs that i think he would do a great cover of

mcr + black by okkervil river. i’ve said this before but i think they could do a really fucking cool more hardcore cover of this song and i would like to see it immediately

cobra starship + daft punk is playing at my house by lcd soundsystem. okay hear me out they’re the perfect band to cover lcd soundsystem like i can think of so many songs they could do but i think this one is the best suited for them. let’s get the keytar in here

ryan ross + the luckiest guy on the lower east side by the magnetic fields. yet another band i think he would slay covering because of the folky aspects to a lot of their songs and i think his voice is a good match for stephin merritts but i’m picking thing one specifically bc it’s my favorite :) and i think he would kill those long notes. nothing matters when we’re dancing is another one i think he would do really well

fall out boy + sing me spanish techno by the new pornographers. am i being biased and giving my favorite band my favorite song by my other favorite band to cover? who’s to say. but i just really do feel like they would do a really good job and i think patrick’s voice would work really well with it. plus the guitar in this song fucks severely so joe could go crazy. all the old showstoppers is also on the table

william beckett + what i’m trying to say by stars. i think he would do an amazing job covering stars i think his voice would fit perfectly and idk i think this song specifically is like. in line w a lot of tai songs if that makes any sense. idk i think he would slay

patrick stump + alive by the fratellis. it took me a second to figure out who i think would cover the fratellis best and i Think it would be patrick. i adore the piano in this song and i think he could really turn it into something more his style without tweaking it too much if that makes any sense. i also think i guess i suppose would be a good one for him to cover

ask me my top five/top ten anything!

[cdelphiki]

Hm. Trying to come up with a surname for Jason and the kids to use in Jason and the Three Terrors and I’ve been researching for an hour and I’m no closer to figuring it out than I was when I started.  

[mypoisonedvine]

Hungry Like The Wolf | soft!dark!Ari Levinson x reader

summary: when you need ari’s help for a secret mission with the CIA, he expects gratitude from you— and he wants a lot more than just a thank you card.

word count: nearly 6.5k

warnings: smut (dub con/coercion/sex as bartering tool), oral sex (f receiving) and vaginal sex, overstimulation, possessiveness/very very slight yandere vibes?, some violence and gun use, mentions of human trafficking/warfare, religious discussions and traditions but not particularly orthodox ones, vague discussions of sexism and misogyny with implied religious background, overall just lots of global politics and all that fun stuff

(a/n: I went ahead and wrote the hebrew and arabic in english lettering because tumblr doesn’t support right to left text so just a heads up.  my arabic is very weak so I apologize if there are any errors.)

Taking a deep breath, you ran through your pitch in your head again.  Sure, you’d had plenty of time to go over it on the plane, but one last recitation couldn’t hurt, right?  Unable to stall any longer, you turned the knob and entered Ari Levinson’s office.

You’d heard he was good-looking but his appearance still surprised you; his long hair and thick beard made him look like he’d fit in with a rock band better than an intelligence agency, and his half-buttoned shirt put his Star of David necklace and muscled, hairy chest on display.

He must have caught your gaze trailing down because he smirked at you, making your cheeks feel a bit warm.

“Mr. Levinson,” you greeted as you looked up to his face again.

He greeted you as ‘Ms.’ instead of ‘Agent,’ but you let it slide since you were about to ask him for quite the favor.  When he motioned for you to take a seat across from him, you did so with a nod and a quick smoothing of your skirt.

“So, what can I help you with?” he prompted. 

This was the easy part; this was the part you’d rehearsed a thousand times.  “There is a group of trafficked women and girls who have been rescued from all over— Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Kuwait— and gathered in Riyadh.  We are working on a plan to move them to Cyprus and, eventually, Greece where they will be accepted into a camp there.  Maybe they’ll end up in the States at some point, if we can swing it, but… Cyprus is step one.”

Ari nodded, listening to your story with more patience than anyone else had so far.

“As you can imagine, it would be a lot easier to move through Jordan and Israel and use your ports, rather than go around through Egypt or Syria…”  He stared at you expectantly as you trailed off, and you cleared your throat before finishing:  "The CIA would greatly appreciate Mossad's cooperation in the movement of these refugees."

"How much would they appreciate it?"

You paused, unsure what he meant.  "Um, quite a lot, I'm sure…"

"I just mean that we have missions the CIA could be a useful assist for, too,” he clarified, interlacing his fingers and resting his hands on his lap.  “You guys have a lot more resources than we do.  If we help you out, is this going to be an allyship we can rely on?"

You swallowed dryly, pondering if there was a way to get out of this before you sighed and slumped down in your chair, leaning a little closer to him.  "Alright, I have to be honest with you: it's not really the CIA that's asking for your help."

"Then who is?"

"Me.  Just me.  I'm the only one who believes in this mission; I'm the only one fighting for these people.  The CIA won't help you because they won't even help me and I work for them."

He slumped his shoulders a little bit.  "Then I'm not sure if I can afford to say yes to you."

"Please," you implored, "I know I can't offer you as much as they can, but I'll do whatever I can to make this work.  Please," you repeated as you laid your hand over his, noticing the way his expression shifted a bit, "help me."

"I've been the one person fighting for a mission before," he remembered, voice a little softer.  "I know how hard it is to go it alone."

You smiled gently at him.

"And, I know how far I would've gone to get my people to safety." 

His hand flipped around suddenly and grabbed yours tightly, pulling you closer as you gasped.

"How far will you go?"

You shivered, the darkness in his eyes burning right through you even when you tried to look away.  "Mr. Levinson, I—"

"Call me Ari," he instructed gruffly, grip tightening around your wrist until you yelped softly.

"Ari," you corrected, "I have money—"

"Don't want it."

"I can offer you my assistance in—"

"Don't need it."

"Tell me what you need,” you requested softly.

"I need to know you're gonna show me this 'great appreciation' you promised,” he answered quickly.  “I need to know that if I take care of you, then you'll take care of me."

You gulped but nodded.  "O-of course…"

"Good."

He released you from his grip and stood up, smiling at you like nothing had even happened.

"Pleasure doing business with you, madam."

You stood up and left his office in a haze, unsure if what had just happened was a dream or reality.  But, sure enough, he showed up the next day where you’d told him to meet you, and brought some money and fake passports that you desperately needed.  Frankly, just having a man around was going to make things smoother for you, even if it was a white man who didn’t exactly blend in by any stretch of the imagination.  Seeing him again the next day only reminded you how big he was, tall but moreso heavy with muscle; he looked pretty cramped in his tiny coach seat on the plane to Dubai (your connecting stop where you’d spend the night before flying out to Riyadh).

“Bloody mary, please,” he requested from the stewardess with a gentle nod, turning to you.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” you ordered quickly with a tilted smile.  You had brought a book to read, but Ari insisted on barraging you with personal questions about your job, your personal life, your favorite things— he seemed fascinated by the most mundane things, and disinterested in giving his own backstory.  

Of course you considered that it wasn’t a great idea to tell him so much about yourself, let him in your head and under your skin.  But then again, you’d put your trust in him enough for the mission, so you ought to trust him completely, right?  

So why did his stare send shivers up your spine?

//  

There was room for you and Ari at a CIA safehouse outside Dubai; it wasn’t exactly luxurious or anything, but at least you weren’t going to have to share a room… or a bed.

Normally staying in a safehouse meant sharing common areas with a random assortment of other agents, but it being a Friday night in Dubai meant they were all out enjoying the local nightlife while you two stayed in.  Hoping to review a game plan for the mission with him, you found Ari’s door open, peeking around to see him on his knees on the floor, a candle burning before him, and his hands raised to cover his eyes and face.

“Shema Yisrael,” he sung to himself below his breath, “Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Ehad…”

He jumped a little when he uncovered and opened his eyes only to find you standing there.  “Shabbat Shalom,” you greeted.

“Shabbat Shalom,” he nodded back.  

“I’m sorry you’re forced to take your Shabbat alone,” you apologized, “and that there’s nobody other than me to appreciate your vocal chops.”

His cheeks tinged pink at that.  “It’s all part of the sacrifices we make for our missions, eh?”

“Then I suppose you don’t mind that you’ll be doing plenty of work tomorrow,” you presumed.

“You probably realized by now that I’m not actually so traditional,” he chuckled, extinguishing the candle and standing up.  “I work on the sabbath quite a lot.”

“I hear work is permitted if it is needed to save a life.”

He smiled, but he looked a little sad; maybe not sad, but tired.  “With me, it always is.”

The silence was thick as you tried to reconcile that this was the same man that had grabbed and threatened you— was it a threat?  You couldn’t even tell anymore.  Apparently he wasn’t going to take whatever it was that he wanted until you’d finished the mission, and that should’ve made it easier to procrastinate your worry, but the extra time to ponder what it was actually going to be only brought further anxiety.

Of course, you had an idea of what he was going to ask of you, but the fact that nothing too untoward had happened in his office when you first met him was throwing you off.  In that moment, you were just waiting for him to tell you to get on your knees and show him how bad you wanted these women rescued, but he didn’t.  Wouldn’t have been the first time somebody tried to bribe you into sex; it would’ve been the first time, however, that you actually considered doing it.

Now, the anticipation just made it worse; you were working with him every day and he always acted normal, as if there wasn’t this looming threat of whatever favor he was going to ask from you in return.

Once you actually got to work the next day, it was easier not to think about that.  You barely had any extra brainpower to think about anything except survival and extraction.  Still, each time you looked at him only to find him already looking at you, your hands shook a little.

//

“You’ve been driving for 10 hours, you’re sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?” you offered, watching him blink a few times to clear his vision.

“Not worth getting arrested,” he frowned.

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“Not worth the risk of getting caught.  And I don’t know about you, but if I get arrested here, I’ll probably be killed, too.”

You chewed your lip as you appreciated that it was probably worth avoiding as much trouble as possible.  It’s not like the CIA was popular in these parts, either, and for good reason.

“What’s that up ahead?” he asked, leaning further forward against the steering wheel and squinting.

“Um,” you stalled as you unfolded the paper map in your lap, “I’m… not sure.”

“Looks like a barricade,” he announced, and it did; a gate with two guards and barbed wire on either side.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you reminded him as you frantically shuffled around the map, making sure you were where you thought you were and that there wasn’t a mark indicating a vehicle stop on the road.

“What do we do?” he asked, looking around as if he was considering veering off the path even though that would be equally dangerous.

“There isn’t supposed to be a stop here,” you repeated, more anxiously.

“Well, there is,” he replied, his own agitation clearly increasing, “so we’ll have to go through it.”

“They’re going to pull us over.”

“Probably,” he admitted.

“And they will search the back of the truck.”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t.  How well do you think they’re gonna take it when they see eighty-something women packed like sardines?”

You chuckled a little even though you were anything but amused.  “Um, not good.”

As the men at the stop waved to signal your car to slow down, Ari sighed a little.  "I'll ask once again: what do we do?"

"Act natural," you suggested quickly as you lifted the scarf draped around your head to cover your nose and mouth.

Ari slowed down to a stop, lowering the window to talk to the officer outside and putting on a fake English accent.  “How can I help you, sir?”

“Identification please,” he requested sternly.  Ari smiled as he grabbed his and your passports, handing them over through the window.  It was a long, awkward moment as he flipped through the thick papers slowly, his partner leaning down to look through your window but never taking his hands off his gun.  “What brings you out here?” the man finally asked.

“My wife and I operate a restaurant in Jordan, and we get most of our equipment here because the workmanship is better,” Ari explained.  “Just passing through with our new stoves and oven hood.”

The officer glanced back over your truck, his expression mostly unreadable but overall not necessarily friendly-looking.  “Could you step out of the vehicle please?”

“Hal hdha daruri?” you asked quickly; Is this necessary?

“Alsamt,” he replied in a hiss; Silence.

Ari looked around like he was thinking but nodded and reached for the handle to his door.  You did the same, the second guard stepping out of your way so you could swing open the rusted metal and step out.

The men guided for you to circle the car with them, stopping at the back and staring at the metal sliding door that was latched shut.

Turning to address Ari, the guard’s face dropped completely as he got a bit more serious.  “What am I going to find in your vehicle?”

“Kitchen supplies, like I said,” Ari insisted.

As the officer reached for the latch on the back of the truck, Ari shot you a wide-eyed look and you gave him a quick nod.  He lunged at the second guard, wrestling him for his gun while you went after the first, who was much easier to take down with him being distracted by trying to unlock the back of the truck.  Your CIA instincts told you to shoot him once you’d grabbed his weapon, but thankfully you knocked him out with the butt of it instead.

Loud pops of gunfire beside you made you fear the worst, but Ari had managed to push the gun toward the sky before pulling it out of the officer’s grasp, swinging it wildly until it made contact with his head and he fell to the ground.

Gun in hand and panting heavily, Ari looked back at you with a grin.  “That wasn’t so bad.”

“You almost got shot,” you reminded him.

“A little more than almost,” he corrected, showing you a gash where a bullet had grazed arm.

“Shit, Ari!” you yelped, running over to him and inspecting the wound.  The way he looked down at you as you clutched him made you sort of regret it, though.

“It’s fine,” he assured you, but he made no effort to push you away.

“I… should check on the girls,” you decided, a little bit distracted but making your way back to the truck to roll up the metal back and examine the women inside, who looked scared at first but relaxed when they saw you.

“Kli shay' ealaa ma yaram,” you assured them that everything was fine, “nahn taqribaan 'iilaa al'urduni, wasawf nasil 'iilaa alsafinat allaylat.”  We're almost to Jordan and will arrive at the ship tonight.

They relaxed a bit and smiled at you, a few muttered ‘shukraan jazilaan’s (meaning ‘thank you’) echoing from inside.  You hated to shut the back and plunge them into darkness again, but they had assured you before that they would brave any conditions for a chance at freedom.  You hoped they meant it.

“Please, let me drive, you’re injured,” you offered to Ari as he started to make his way toward the driver’s side door.

“It’s not even that bad, and we’ve had enough run-ins with the law today,” he dismissed.

“Then let me patch you up first, okay?  Is that so terrible?”

He smiled a little.  “No, I guess not.”

And that was how you ended up leaning on him in the passenger seat, supergluing his arm shut, trying not to think about how his bicep was probably bigger than your head.

“You’re a pretty good medic,” he observed, speaking quietly since you were so close.

“When you’re as clumsy as I am, you have to be,” you responded, sounding monotone due to focusing mostly on your work.  “It shouldn’t scar too—”

You stopped when you looked up at him, because the way he was staring back down at you made you completely devoid of the ability to speak or even conjure words in your mind.  You’d never seen him so close before and those piercing blue eyes made your head spin.

“What were you gonna say?” he asked softly, 

“It… shouldn’t scar too bad,” you finished, “as long as you keep it clean and dry.”

“I generally aim to keep my entire body clean and dry,” Ari chuckled.

“Right, yeah, well— keep up the good work, then,” you stammered as you wrapped some gauze around his arm and rolled his sleeve back down over it.

“Let’s hit the road before we waste any more time,” he suggested, and with a nod you leaned back into your seat.

//

The radio blasting was the only thing keeping both of you awake as you drove through the dark.  The border to Jordan was easy enough, and both of you sighed with relief as you crossed into Israel.  It was by far the biggest blockade you’d seen so far, but of course, Ari got you in faster than you’d moved through anything else.

“Good to be home?” you asked when you saw Ari smiling as he looked around at the streetlights through the windshield.

“You could say that,” he answered.  “Think we have time to stop for falafel before we get to the port?”

“Not unless you plan on buying for all your passengers,” you laughed, motioning toward the back.  “If they have to wait until we reach the ship, so do we.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he relented.  “Besides, probably better to be seen by as few people as possible.  Even if we’re in friendly territory, it’s still a covert operation and all.”

“Wow, so you do have some desire to play by the rules,” you gasped in faux shock.  He smiled and shrugged a bit.

“More like the rules and my desires occasionally overlap.”

It was past midnight when you pulled into the port, surrounded by ships so big that you couldn’t see the tops of them from inside the car.  A cargo ship was waiting for you, along with some Navy men who helped you escort the women onto the vessel.

Since it wasn’t meant to accommodate this many people, the refugees occupied extra crew space while you and Ari were given sleeping bags in an unused office; you were so tired, though, that it actually looked enticing.

As soon as you’d set your pack down and shut the door, you heard a distant horn and felt the ship begin to move.  You let out a long sigh as you leaned against the desk, watching Ari take a seat in the chair and start laughing exhaustedly.

“We did it,” you smiled, “we fucking did it.”

“We’ve still got a long boat ride ahead of us,” Ari mitigated, “but yeah… we should be in the clear, and tomorrow afternoon we’ll be in sunny Cyprus.”

You were so elated from the high of a successful mission that you forgot to worry about Ari’s vague request all those weeks ago; it was probably the first time you hadn’t thought about it since then, truthfully.  That changed when his smile fell as he looked up at you, eyes darkening a little and scanning your body.

“You’re a great agent,” he nodded slowly, “and an incredible woman.  You saved a lot of people tonight.”

You shifted nervously under the weight of his stare, but tried to hide your discomfort.  “I… couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I know,” he informed you coldly, standing up and approaching you.  “I think I’ve gone above and beyond on my end of our deal.”

A pit formed in your stomach, growing with each step he took towards you.  His eyes stayed trained on you except for when he glanced to the side to flip on the radio, American music suddenly piping through the speakers.

— discord and rhyme, I’m on the hunt, I’m after you…

You looked to the radio as well but his hand gently guided your jaw until you looked back at him; he was closer than ever, and you had to look up to meet his gaze, shivering as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip slowly.

“Are you good for your end of the deal?” he asked lowly.

And I’m hungry like the wolf…

You swallowed, hoping it would somehow ease the ache in your gut as you realized what was about to happen, before nodding meekly.

He smirked a little.  “Good girl,” he praised, only a bit louder than a whisper, as his hand moved to cradle your face.  “You want me, don’t you?”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out how you were supposed to answer that.  “I want to repay you, for all you’ve done for me.”

“No, not just that,” he disagreed, “you want me.  I know you do.  You don’t need to hide it, we’re alone…”

Hesitant but catching on to his desires, you nodded a little.

“Say it.”

“I want you, Ari,” you whispered.  

It felt like forever waiting for him to kiss you as he leaned in slowly, eyes half-lidded and dark but never leaving you.  As his lips brushed against yours, you finally let your eyes flutter shut and reciprocated his kiss.  His hands felt especially big as one slipped behind your neck and the other rested on your waist; in fact, with the way you had to crane your head up to kiss him back, all of him felt big.  Including the part you were pretty sure just bumped against the inside of your thigh.

His kiss was soft and patient but determined, slow but somehow still moving faster than you were ready for.  You gingerly reached up and rested your hands on his shoulders; they were strong and warm beneath your touch, even through his shirt.  You couldn’t think of the last time you’d been kissed like this, or held so tenderly like this, but then again, you were also sure that nobody had scared you like this in a long time, either.  For a woman who always knew what to do in a dangerous situation, you couldn’t seem to get a read on Ari Levinson— mostly because you didn’t truly believe he was dangerous.  But maybe you should.

When his hands reached up to start unbuttoning your blouse, you pushed him back a little.

"N-not here," you protested, "someone could hear, or walk in."

"There's nowhere else to go, and I'm not waiting 'til Cyprus.  I need you now."

He kissed you again before you could respond, more forceful and desperate.  You let him work open your shirt this time, his fingers dancing over your skin as he pulled it off your shoulders and tossed it aside.  The feeling of him working your bra open made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but his tongue slipping into your mouth distracted you and before you knew it, it was gone as well.  Your nipples hardened in the cold air— or maybe they’d been that way already, for whatever reason— but they reacted even stronger to his thick fingers gently pinching them as his palms cupped your breasts.

You gasped against his mouth a bit, your breathing getting heavier as he moved his hands down to your trousers.  The idea of being naked when he was still fully-dressed scared you, but you didn’t have time to think about that anymore when he pulled back to drop to his knees, taking your pants and underwear to the floor with him.

He looked back up at you with a mischievous grin as you cautiously stepped out of them.  After guiding you to sit up on the table, neither of you stopping to consider how rude it was to put your bare ass on somebody’s desk in a borrowed ship, he slowly parted your legs.  As he kissed a trail inside your thigh, you felt your hands clutch the edge of the table tightly with anticipation.  You felt so exposed with his face right there, to the point that your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, and yet you couldn't manage to tear your eyes away from his as he leaned in to lick you teasingly with the tip of his tongue.

"Fuck," you shivered, feeling your inner walls quiver as he moved so delicately.  You kept waiting for him to really get into it but he was determined to stay gentle and slow, circling your bud for one glorious moment before stopping again.  "Ari, please," you whispered without even realizing you’d said it.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked darkly, his voice deep and gravelly as he ran his hands up the back of your legs.

Your begging whimper was so pathetic you could hardly believe you were hearing yourself.  "More, please…"

He dove right in after that, suddenly latching onto your clit and letting his tongue explore every fold, every wrinkle, every sensitive spot with thick, wide licks.  Your head fell back and your hands jumped to weave into his hair— that gorgeous fucking hair that had driven you halfway insane.  It was soft between your fingers, and in this light you could see the touches of red, blonde, and maybe even grey scattered into the brunette.  Better yet was the way he moaned against you when you accidentally pulled it, your hands clenching into fists against his scalp each time he sucked on your clit just right.

"Ari, baby, fuck," you groaned, feeling your hips shift a little as if to try to get more of yourself in his mouth.

Sensation was sparking under your skin faster than you knew what to do with it, faster than you had ever figured out on your own, and definitely faster than anybody else had ever managed.  You felt your body shaking and couldn’t suppress it at all, every part of you (inside and out) quivering uncontrollably.  It would’ve been embarrassing except that he seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, egging you on with his tight grip on your thighs, and his deep moans that reverberated over your body, and the way his brow furrowed like it almost pained him to see you like this.  Your back arched so dramatically that he had to hold onto your hips tight to keep you in his mouth, but he managed to maintain what he'd been doing— in fact, he didn't stop even when you started to whine and cry, feet digging into his back as you tried not to explode from the overstimulation on your sensitive clit.  

"S-stop, s'too much, can't take it," you pleaded, looking down at him.

He looked back up at you with dark, dilated eyes that said 'you're gonna take it.'  His tongue lapped at you with renewed vigor, sending you tumbling over the edge again and again and again.

Tears were streaming down your face when he finally relented, standing up slowly and staring you down as he wiped his face with the back of his hand; your arousal had coated his mouth and most of his beard, too.  You bit down on your lip to stop it from shaking as he slotted himself between your legs again, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and smiling as he watched your gaze trail down every inch of newly-exposed skin.

You knew he was in good shape, because it was always obvious, but you still shivered a little when you were greeted with chiseled muscles, dusty-blonde hair, a few stray freckles and scars, and last but not least, the gauze wrapping on his arm where you’d patched him up before.  It was nice to see a piece of your handiwork on something so flawless, like how it must feel to design the frame that holds a Monet.  Your mouth was even watering as you followed the trail of hair down to where it was interrupted by his jeans, which were misshapen with the unmistakable outline of his neglected cock.  Either you could actually hear it throbbing, or that was just your heartbeat in your ears as he made a show of undoing his buckle and fly slowly.  

A breath caught in your throat as he slid the jeans down and kicked them off with his boots, his cock bouncing up against the bottom of his abs once he’d freed it.  You hoped to hide your intimidation, but you must have failed from the way he smirked and licked his lips as he stepped forward and pressed it against your stomach; you felt a little dizzy seeing the head of it reach past your bellybutton.  "That's how deep I'm gonna be in you, baby."

For all his delicacy and tenderness in everything before now, he must have had a change of heart; with a little growl, he pushed all the way into you with one brutal thrust, watching darkly as your head fell back in a choked scream.  He didn’t stop for very long, either, setting up a pace that was slow but unyielding, his length filling every part of you and then some with each slam of his hips into yours.

He grabbed your hair tightly and suddenly, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him.  He licked and sucked along your pulse until you were shaking against him, nails accidentally digging into his shoulders a little bit as you held onto him.

His lips trailed up to pull you into a frenzied, sloppy kiss, your mouth slack wide for him to explore however he wanted.

"Tell me how it feels," he growled against your lips.

It feels like my body is on fire but I like it.  It feels like you're shaping my insides to fit you exactly how you want.  It feels like you might split me in half before you're done with me, but if you stop now I'll fall apart even worse.

His grip on your hair tightened at your lack of response.  "Gettin' fucked too good to answer me, huh?  So full of my cock you can't even speak.  Is that right, pretty baby?"

You nodded as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, your hoarse moans and sobs muffled by his skin.  

"Aw, poor thing," he purred, wrapping his arms around your back.  His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke to you in a deep mumble, the bass of his voice sending shivers down your spine with each word.  "You don't have to tell me, I know how it feels… you're so wet that you're fucking dripping, your needy little pussy is clamping down on me like it's the end of the fucking world, and you're screaming for me so loud I bet half the ship can hear you.  I know how it feels, baby; it feels so good that you're already about to come for me."

You gasped as he pushed you to lay back on the table, hoisting your legs up over his shoulders; you felt a bit whorish seeing your legs up in the air like that, especially when he leaned to the side to plant a wet kiss on your calf.

Soon he was letting your legs slip back down to his hips, leaning over you and caging you in with his thick arms, watching your face as he started to fuck you harder.  His long hair was at risk of tickling you as it fell down beside your face, but it was that Star of David necklace that was dangling from his neck and swinging right in your face with every thrust.  Slightly annoyed by it hitting your face from time to time, you stuck out your tongue to catch it, holding it between your teeth and finding that biting down on it helped you cope with the slight pain of him so deep inside you anyways.

"Baby," he moaned, inspired by the sight to grab your hips even tighter and slam into you even harder.  "Fuck, I'm close," he hissed.  "Gonna fill you up so good, baby, gonna ruin you for anybody else, huh?"

"Yes, Ari," you whimpered.  "I'm close, too…"

"Go ahead, pretty girl, wanna feel how tight you get when you come— when I make you come."

Trying to hold it back only made it hit you harder, and as your moans grew louder and your body began to shake, you felt your walls flutter and flex intensely.  He pulled his necklace out of your mouth and kissed you suddenly; it kept you grounded as you feared that the rest of you would float away, lost in pleasure so thoroughly that you'd never come back to reality.  His moans mixed with yours as they moved between your tongues, and just when you thought you'd break into pieces if he didn't slow down, you felt his movements stutter and his cock pump inside you.  You couldn't feel the warmth of it because you were already so hot all over, but the way his cock swelled as he came was unmistakable and overwhelmingly erotic.

He broke the kiss but didn't pull away, catching his breath while he stayed inside you, resting his forehead against yours.  

After cooling off for a moment, he scooped your limp body into his arms and lifted you into his chest; you wrapped around him and let him carry you to the other side of the room where he set you down on the pallet sleeping bags and blankets.  You whimpered as he pulled out, his softening cock still big enough to make you wince.  The gush of warm, sticky come made your cheeks burn even if it also sent a dulled tingle of arousal up your spine.  He was gentlemanly enough to wipe you off with a towel, mumbling something about how pretty you looked stuffed with his come, but you couldn't really focus on any of that because you were still waiting for sensation to return to your numbed extremities— brain included.

He turned his head and laid it on your chest, and you found yourself absent-mindedly scratching his scalp with your nails.

"That's nice," he whispered, but you could tell that already by the way his skin was erupting into goosebumps, and the way he held you tighter.

You must've laid like that for hours, or maybe it was just a few minutes, but it was one of those moments that felt like a piece of forever.  He lifted his head to look up at you, pulling you down a bit so his face hovered over yours.

"What's next for you after you get these women to Greece?" he asked quietly.

You chewed your lip as you thought about that.  "Back to DC, I figure, and then wherever they send me next.  I hear they might want me undercover in Cuba or Russia…"

"How often do you end up in Jerusalem?"

You squirmed a little beneath him, but he slipped his arm under your neck and pulled you closer; how were you supposed to think with his bicep right by your face like that?  "Uh, not often, but if I'm in town I'll give you a call—"

"Come with me," he requested softly.  "Get to Cyprus, go to Greece, and then meet me in Tel Aviv."

"Ari, I can't—"

"Why not?"

You laughed a little, but he clearly wasn’t joking.  "Because I have a job?"

"You won't need a job," he shrugged, "I make good money and you can just live with me."

Your throat went dry as you stammered, trying to figure out if he had seriously just asked you to quit your job and move in with him.

"You'll like Israel.  You speak some Hebrew don't you?"

"Uhh, yeah but—"

"Then what's stopping you?"

You couldn't answer because you didn't even know where to start with all the things that were stopping you.  Your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish out of water, and he laughed at you lightly.  

"Just say yes," he encouraged gently, and your heart twisted as you wondered if this was part of the deal, if you needed to do everything he wanted to keep him on your side.  You were on an Israeli ship, sailing international waters; if he changed his mind now, he could still sell you out and have these people arrested or worse.  But he wouldn't do that, right?

Perhaps the more important question was not 'would he do that?' but rather 'are you willing to find out?'

"Yes," you heard yourself answer before you even realized you were considering it.  

He grinned, hugging you tightly.  He was already rambling about how great it was going to be and how he would spoil you all the time and maybe find a way to get you hired as a contractor at Mossad so he could bring you along on missions, but you couldn't hear it past the ringing in your ears. You desperately needed sleep, and his arms were warm and welcoming as you drifted off.  He kissed your forehead before letting his eyes fall shut as well, joining you in unconsciousness.  

The swaying of the ship was like being rocked to sleep, so much so that you slept for an uncharacteristically long time: you were just a few hours out from your destination when you awoke, in fact.

Instead of getting up and attempting to acquire some food, you laid there staring up at the ceiling as his heavy arm draped over your chest.   Even in his sleep he had power over you, refused to let you go.  You tried to remember how you'd ended up in this situation but instead you found yourself fantasizing about a chance at love.  After running around the world for so long, there weren't many good men left to settle down with.  And Ari was maybe not an entirely good man, but you believed him when he said he would treat you well.  You'd shacked up with a lot worse in your time, when you were young and reckless and thought the worst thing you could be was alone.  Still, a long-suppressed desire for companionship was awakening in your mind and you weren't going to swallow it back down this time.  Smiling, you lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles.  If what he wanted in exchange for his cooperation was your affection, you could do that.

[crazygaysex]

incomprehensible conjecture and rambling about sunny/rcg under the cut! idk man I got 1 hour of sleep in the past 24 or wataver and my brain is an abandoned swamp Good Nigte

i certainly am not arguing that mac Absolutely Isnt a stereotype of a predatory gay man/self-hating homophobe or whatevr. i wont argue the homophobe one at all really,not great even if they rectified it and further tried to make up for it or whatever w mac finds his pride (which i love, regardless). but honestly i dont think the predatory complaint really makes a whole lot of legitimate sense considering every charatcer on the show is Extremely predatory in their own right. if he wasnt i’d be irritated to be honest. i do agree w wat mcelhenney said something like that its cool that they decided to acknowledge he was gay without changing him fundamentally as a person; he still needs to fit into the show or watever. like idk he’s not Ideal Gay Rep ofc but he’s awesome still. To Me. I like when character’s sexuality can be an improtant acknowledged facet of them but doesnt overtake the rest of te narrative! It never occurred to me that his behavior toward dennis would be seen as predatory ina stereotypical way seeing as how their relationship dynamic is so fckign bizarre. charlie has the same level of dogged cluelessness about the obj of his affection’s true feelings, so it didnt occur to me to see mac touching dennis’ knee or stuff of that variety as being any different ig or as making fun of queers or watevr. if i am wrong/misunderstanding i apologize. i have never considered mac from that perspective before.

honestly i kinda get the complaints. i’ve never rly thought rcg all have 10000% pure intentions with the insensitive kind of humor they are into, no matter their loophole justifications for shit. sometimes i almost believe their reasoning and do basically understand but it still seems flimsy when you considers stuff like the blackface stuff which is indeed kind of funny at times mainly bc the joke is the absurdity of it all, like mac in the shower with the brown dripping off him like he’s melting; it’s not funny at the expense of black ppl but more so at the expense of how goddam stupid and unaware mac is. i havent seen the blackface/brownface ones in years sos i dont have a whole lot to say excepe they seemed to be clearly against using blackface as the moral while still using it to get laughs. so. really honestly i don’t know that it’s Liderally Ever edgy white people’s call to use something like blackface regardless of context, regardless of their obvious intent? i dunno i have tried to find Black ppls opinions online a couple times but struggled to find any tangible results. the only other thing i have to say with ym white person words is that i think it’s stupid that the streamig companies take down all insensitive episodes like theyre trying to brush them under the rug and pretend it never happened in wake of a changing political climate. i get it, but kinda just seems like corporate scrambling ie disney getting ridof all of song of the south but still profiting from splash mountain eprhaps. something seems dodgy to me about pretending it doesnt exist anymore just to cover their asses. i understand the sentiment i guess but i dont think that’s really the main goal of the BLM movement, to purge streaming services of any questionable/racially insensitive/Fully Racist material; there’s surely more important things at the top of the lists besids Good Branding . im not sure if that makes sense

also a lot of episodes the joke is the blatant but somehow woefully oblivious homoerotic overtones present between the guys, like a Lot of the time. it is very funny though is the thing and a lot of thm are my favorites. i dunno. i also thought hte pooping transgender bit was pretty funny mainly cause it was absurd. i think maybe because i have my own what i think are reaosnable and empathetic views about certain stuff like queer shit it doesnt necessarily occur to me that they are trying to make fun of queer people.. like people make fun of conservative fans for having completely missed the point of it all being satire, and wat if i am being tricked to into assuming rcg has kind intentions and isnt trying to make fun of queer people just cause the thought didnt occur to me? instead of taking all the gay subtext serious- WHICh i Do, i should probably be more aware that to rcg it is just a bit and not really that deep. but mac and dennis were totally fucjing in s5 canonically. anwyays like aside from the carmen shit which is handled So Fuckign Bad and it makes me so upset cause i actually love carmen they were just very clearly not bothered with actually representing trans people accurately. so in the bathroom one if even fuckin dee reynolds is like, saying a trans woman in a woman’s bathroom is obviously normal.. it seems like they’d rectified some of their previous Very flawed rhetoric surrounding trans women (ie the whole “u slept with me when i was still a man” line. makes me cringe a bit ebery time)u get wat i mean?? not that it atones for it obviously. i love carmen she desreved better

butreallt i dont have any like. Pure Faith in rcg to be super accountable or honest about their intentions or to have the most accurate or agreeable beliefs or whataver. theyre just fucking about really because they can without any lashback. and people i think like being able to laugh at offensive shit thru scenarios which supposedly distance you from bigots/evil people and make u feel better about yourself watching these dumbass evil people talk slime. when like. glenn yelling supposedly arabic-sounding gibberish for example: it is funny in this context not just cause it’s wildly inappropriate and absurd but also because there’s prob significant amt of people who actually dont have an issue with it who could watch it and not have that takeaway whatsoever. i dont kno wt im talking about anymore btu honestly if youre trying to watch a show that isnt rife throughout with controversial/offensive/insensitive language and story beats, i dont know why you would try to stomach it with sunny. like for gods sake they used blackface more than once! i dunno man

[joshslater]

Escape from Al Moazaz

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Another bunch of disgusting old Arabs, drinking sweet tea, eating dates, smoking hookah, pointing finger, and chatting excitedly. It doesn’t look like they talk about me, but ever so often I think their chatter circles back to me somehow, and they point and wave and chatter in that cackle they call language. They never talk to me, never ask me to do anything. I’m free to do as I please, go where I want, but I’m sure they are lying to me. I have to leave tonight, or it will just be more of this. It’s already been over a week, several days after he said this would all be over. I think so at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if the old geezer lied about the days as well.

I arrived on a Thursday at least. I checked out from Sheraton in central Dubai Thursday morning. There are no taxes and the workforce is underpaid African or Indian guest workers on rotation, so hotel rooms are cheap. The rental car was cheap too, and gas is practically free. It literally comes out of the ground here after all. I had severely overestimated how long it would take to drive from Dubai to Abu Dhabi. It was just a straight highway and I had padded the time table way too much. I was getting close after just one hour, too early to check-in, so I decided to drive around a bit in the outskirts. Free gas, as I said. That’s when I saw the fucker.

The buildings were spaced enough that by the time you saw one, the last one was gone from view, so it qualified as a rural area. Mostly rocks in between though, so I don’t know why anyone would like to live out here. But there he was, the old man, dressed in his white dishdasha robe and picnic table cloth around his head, smiling and waving towards the car to stop. I pull up in front of the house and exit the car. It’s a decent house, none of the luxury on display inside of Dubai. I’ve never been inside anything but hotels, mega-malls and skyscrapers here, so I have no idea what the interior layout would be, but the size is roughly what a suburban family house for four would be back home.

He bows and asks me to join him for tea, in really bad English. I realize this is a bit off the beaten track for tourists, and perhaps this is a good learning experience for both. I’d love to see some authentic middle eastern hospitality, and I’d be happy to talk about whatever the reason for him to invite me. I accept his invitation and follow him through the portal. Although only one story it is quite high up to the ceiling. Interestingly we only pass through a sparsely furnished room and back out again into some sort of shaded stone garden in the middle of the building. It looks very lived in, much more so than the room we just passed through. Tables, chairs, potted plants, and hookah things. There he beckons me to sit down on one of the most decidedly western garden chairs.

He disappears back into the building and I have a look around. I guess all rooms in the building have a window into this central garden. That explains why the house had so few windows on the walls facing out, and makes total sense with all the sun they get here. The man is back with a small tray with two small glasses with amber liquid. He places one glass in front of me and takes one for himself, and without saying anything invites me to take a sip. It’s sweet and tastes of apple. I’ve had this kind of tea before, and don’t really like it. It’s not tea in my opinion, but it's drinkable and it would have had to be something far worse to offend this old man in his home. That’s when I blacked out.

I’m not sure how long I was out, but it was evening when I came to. I was lying on a thin mattress on the floor in one of the almost unfurnished, completely white rooms. It wasn’t cold, it never is here this time of year, but I could feel air touching my body. The sun is setting fast here, but the light made an orange square on the wall opposite to the high window. Murmurs and sounds of people having a pleasant time filter in. I still am not completely awake, going through different scenarios like fainting of dehydration, when I realize that not only am I completely naked, but I look very different.

Instead of my lanky, pasty body, I have a much bulkier frame covered in deeply tanned skin, in turn covered in thick, black body hair. I slowly sit up, mesmerized by what I see. The tan is perhaps a trick of light, but the bulk and the hair is not. As if there is any doubt left, the dick and balls make it clear this is a different body. As with the body both are thicker and heavier. Unlike my familiar dick this one is also longer, circumcised, and weird looking.

I ought to freak out, flail and scream, but it is all so surreal and unexpected that I either am in disbelief or shock. Slowly I get to my feet. My much heavier body compensated for and more with extra muscles. There are no mirrors in the room, or really anything but me and the mattress, so I have no idea what I look like. Very different of course, that much I can tell. I feel my head and my face. I have no idea what my face should feel like, but I have a beard now. I have a nose and a mouth and ears. The hair feels the same as always.

As I move my hands down I feel a small chain around my neck. A thin necklace with no pendant and no clasp or mechanism I can find with my fingers. It sits loose, but tight enough that I probably wouldn’t get my head through it should I try.

I don’t know what to do next. It is like the first room in an adventure game and I’ve just figured out the controllers. Just as I am about to exit I see a piece of white cloth on the white floor in front of the door. A pair of tight shorts that I put on right away. It looks obscene, almost worse than being naked. The white fabric stands out against the dark skin, drawing attention to the big dick and balls wrapped in tight cloth.

The house on the other side of the door is mostly deserted. Some furniture, but I suspect he lives alone and only uses a few rooms. It doesn’t take long to follow the sound and find a different exit into the courtyard than the one I entered through the first time. It looks the same as when I entered, but with a completely different feeling. Instead of the harsh sun everything is bathed in the orange glow of dusk. A few lamps are lit around the courtyard, and around a table sits the old man together with a few similar looking old men.

One of them sees me and utters a few Arabic words, and they all turn towards me. There is a short beat of silence and then they all burst into chatter. One of them is laughing, one of them continues staring at me, but they all appear happy. The focus shifts to the old man. They treat him like it’s his birthday or he just won a bet. One of them jumps up, spry for his age, and walks up to me. He inspects me, giving remarks back to the seated group. It’s when he prods me with his finger it feels like a spell breaks. Suddenly I’m not walking through a dream, but this is actually happening. I’m actually in this place, with these men, looking like this.

I tell him to stop. He just laughs. The old man waves at the table, inviting me to dates, harees, and flatbread. That for some reason angers me. Hunger is the least of my concerns right now. I demand to know what he has done to me. The men go from smiles to laughter. The angrier I get, the funnier they think it is. It’s only a joke, the old man tells me. It only lasts for a few days, he says. I storm back into the house and out the other side only to find my rental is gone. I quickly realize that standing in just underwear outside is not going to go down well with the police, or anyone, so I return back into the house to look for my clothes.

I don’t know what the rational thing to do is. None of this follows any reason. Perhaps I can squeeze into my old clothes, run away and then figure out who to contact. I freeze. The local police would probably be useless. The embassy would laugh me out. I might be able to convince someone back home, but I don’t even have a way to call them. All of that is true if I stay here as well.

I search the entire building, room by room. Despite the large house, it doesn’t look like the old man has much. The rooms are sparsely furnished, if not right out empty. A few rooms, like the kitchen and his bedroom, looks more normal. Nowhere do I find my stuff though, or any other clothes that would fit for that matter. We only share the same size in sandals and head scarfs.

I’m stuck, I realize, in a soft prison. Even if I could leave the house, I couldn’t leave the country. Even if I could leave the country, where would I go? Dejected I walk into the courtyard again. Some of the old men look my way, but largely ignore me as they talk about something. I sit down on a remote chair and watch them. I could kill them all. They are all really old, but probably not that frail. It would probably be a drawn-out fight with leathery, hard to kill old Arabs, but I’m sure I could do it. But that wouldn’t do me any good. I would still be here, stuck, and wanted by the police. A hard prison is worse than a soft prison.

[wandaterrell]

What is a Postal Code

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What are Postal Codes and How Do They Work?

Businesses of all kinds are familiar with terms like address cleansing and ZIP+4 code. They are aware that you need a complete ZIP+4 code to send and receive packages via USPS without any delays and to ensure the mail’s deliverability. Yet, businesses often remain ignorant of what is what and focus solely on their campaigns/efforts and their reach.

Businesses must realize that they need to have a comprehensive idea of what is what if they are to come up with feasible and innovative solutions. You can’t be inspired to come up with a smart solution or alternative with a limited understanding of what you are dealing with. And as far as a company’s direct mail efforts are concerned, the postal code is the perfect place to start.

You need to understand what is postal code so that you can have a better understanding of how your direct mail efforts work. This article discusses what postal code is, how the ZIP+4 code fits into pictures, and how it is important for your address verification and validation process.

What is Postal Code?

Postal codes are a set of numbers, a very specific set of numbers (although it sometimes includes letters too) that helps postal services determine the destination of a mail. The postal code allows a mail to reach its destination, and full ZIP+4 makes sure that it reaches the destination ASAP. The use of postal code is standard practice across nations all around the world. Even though the details may be different, the basic functioning is similar everywhere.

The postal code system across different countries may vary, and so will their format but their purpose remains the same, and that is to make postal delivery easier. Every stage in postal delivery is optimized by the use of postal codes. This optimization includes the batching of posts sent to a particular state to the stage where the postman makes the delivery. In essence, the postal code dictates the extent of the delivery jurisdictions.

So, every address that falls under the same delivery jurisdiction will have the same postal code assigned to it. However, this broad classification only applies to a part of the code if you are referring to a full 9-digits postal code. It is also worth noting that sometimes the postal codes are based on their geographical areas or even administrative boundaries in some cases. On the flip side, sometimes they are free-floating in nature or integral to a certain organization or a single delivery point.

It may feel that the postal code allocation may very well be random with so many different bases for their allocations, but there exists a common element between all of them. And what is that? Well, the postal codes are closely linked to the delivery route of a postal employee. It makes perfect sense to do it this way because the purpose of the postal codes in effect is to streamline their delivery process, reducing the time required for deliveries through effective planning.

How the Postal Code was Created

The postal codes had a massive impact on all the activities related to postal delivery, and this goes for every country in the world. A system that is simple yet effective enough to manage the postal operations of big countries such as the US. As an address verification company that works closely with postcodes, we can’t help but get a little excited when talking about the origin of postal codes.

So the story begins when the cities in the US started to grow bigger and bigger. As the cities kept on growing, the delivery of postal mails also became more and more challenging. Soon there were not enough postman or post offices to deliver all the letters; keep in mind that this was at a time when letters were the only means of communication for the vast majority of the population.

The most obvious solution at this point was to simply meet the increased demand for postal services was optimize the logistic capability of the postal body. To optimize the logistical capabilities, more post offices were built and more postmen were hired. But the problems were only beginning because the postal delivery was potentially a management nightmare.

Why? Because despite having new post offices and new postmen to deliver the mails, it still did not rectify the problem of how one would find the different addresses. There were a lot of questions that were left unanswered, such as which post office would deliver an address that is exactly halfway between two post offices? An efficient way had to be developed that is productive in a way that none of the resources went to waste.

A similar situation prevailed in different parts of the world during the time. It was in London that they first started using the postal codes in the late 1800s. London was subdivided into ten different districts to meet the postal delivery requirements and is often signified as the first source of postal codes. They called these newly classified districts postal districts or postal zones.

To keep track of them effectively, they were all numbered, and that is how “postal district numbers” or “postal zone numbers” came into being. Although during the first World War, such systems already existed in various European countries, the one from London is often regarded as the origin.

The US began using the postal code system a bit later but not later than the 1920s. Since then, the postal delivery system has gone through numerous changes and optimized for better and faster deliveries. Even with all the progress that we have made since then, the district numbering system is still the foundation on which the modern-day postal codes are built on.

Using Postal Codes Across the Country

The postal code that had its inception in London was merely the tip of the iceberg. The district code created in London was a primitive one because they only ever covered a big city and nothing more. As one would expect from a new system, even though it had some sound logic behind the first postal code was not effectively implemented. The system was perfected over the years and evolved itself to what we now see around the world.

For starters, the first postal code was created only for big cities like London. It was never equipped to cover larger areas like states or the country. They lacked the systematic superiority to implement them on a larger scale. It was the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic that first implemented a country-wide postal code system back in 1932. However, this did not last as they failed to implement it efficiently, and it was finally discontinued in 1939.

If you are looking for a functioning example of a postal system in history, then you will have to go to Germany in 1941. Even though they were dealing with the war at the time, the Germans still managed to keep effective postal communication throughout the country. Later in 1963, the US also joined the club by implementing the ZIP-code system. In the meantime, it took another decade for the UK that actually began the practice of postal code to implement it nationwide.

But we have not once had to look back ever since the introduction of a nationwide postal code system. The beauty of the system and probably the reason that it has not been replaced by an alternative system is its ability to expand. It allows countries to expand and accommodate for new or additional areas simply by adding new digits to the already existing code.

The postal codes are much more than just a means of delivering direct mails today. They help in geocoding, address validation, and more. They can help you with identity verifications and even checking for stolen credit cards. At this point, the postal code is not something you can afford to be ignorant about because it has many real-life uses, and you never know when you might need one in your personal or professional life.

International Mailing Postal Code Names

We have already made it clear that countries around the world use a postal code system. However, it is not necessarily called a postal code everywhere around the globe. It’s similar to how in the US we call an elevator an “elevator,” and in the UK, they call it a “lift,” and we haven’t even considered the non-English speaking countries yet. Every country has a different term, and below we take a look at some of the most popular ones.

In the US, we call the postal service the ZIP code or “Zone Improvement Plan.” The “Postal Code” is a generic term, and it is universally applicable, and it also happens to be the name used by Canada’s postal service. Many English-speaking nations like the Netherlands use the name Postcode which, as you can see, is just a slightly different variant of the “postal code.” In Italy, they call it CAP, which is short for “Codice di Avviamento Postale” which further translates to Postal Expedition Code.

In Ireland, the postal code goes by the name Eircode, which is their latest delivery code system. Brazil calls it “Código de Endereçamento” (CEP), which in English means Postal Addressing Code. In India, the postal codes go by the name “Postal Index Number code” or PIN code/Pincode. The Germans call it “Postleitzahl” or PAZ, which conveniently translates to “postal code.”

Postal Code and Their Different Formats

Although there are certain generalities when it comes to postal code format, they still have many variations, and it is essential to understand these different formats. Beginning with the characters used in the postal codes, you need to keep in mind that the actual composition may vary depending on the country, and hence all the places may not necessarily use all the characters.

You can expect three kinds of symbols in a postal code. The first of these symbols that you will notice are the numbers 0 to 9, or the ten base characters of the Arabic decimal system if you want it in technical terms. As you may have very well guessed, the second of these symbols are the alphabets A to Z or all 26 letters of the basic Latin alphabet. The third and final one of these symbols is the hyphens and spaces.

The majority of the countries use only the numbers in their postal codes. However, it is worth noting that the hyphens and spaces are also used in varying saturation levels. That being said, this is not always the case as some countries out there use a more complex system that throws in alphabets to the mix, making their postal codes alphanumeric. Canada, Venezuela, the United Kingdom, Swaziland, Netherlands, and Ireland are some of the more popular countries that employ an alphanumeric postal code.

The Role of Location in Mailing Postal Codes

Instead of assigning random numbers and letters to addresses around the city (or country, for that matter), the postal codes are attributed based on their location and deliverability. Grouping together the addresses in a systematic manner makes way for easier labeling. Take the ZIP codes in the US. For example, the first digit of the full 9-digits ZIP code indicates the region of the country where the postal mail is destined to go.

Suppose the first digit of the ZIP code is 0, then it is headed for New England, and similarly, each digit specifies a particular region in the country. However, you should remember that this system may change from country to country. As far as the US is concerned, its codes are generally based on the administrative areas. This means that the first number of the ZIP code will give you a fairly accurate idea about the destination country.

That being said, on the practical side of things, ZIP codes often cross county, city, and state boundaries. So what does this mean for the postal code? Well, this means that although it is likely that the ZIP codes are closely linked to the administrative boundaries like city and states, it is by no means compulsory. As we briefly mentioned before, it all comes down to optimizing the delivery process, and hence the most productive way for running the mail is adopted.

Another thing you should be aware of is that sometimes when the codes are not based on a boundary, they are tied to the recipients. For example, PO boxes usually have their own postal code or postal code suffix. It is also normal for large buildings and organizations to have their unique codes because of the large volume of mails they send and receive.

Postal Code Accuracy

The postal code accuracy can also be subject to variation from country to country, meaning some codes can be more accurate, or some may be less accurate. The ZIP code used in the US comes with what is called a “block-level” accuracy. This implies that the mails sharing the same ZIP+4 code will be delivered by the same delivery man or share the same delivery route. This is one of the most accurate postal codes in the world, and the USPS assures delivery as long as you have a validated address.

Conclusion

The Postal Code system is an international system used across countries around the world. Although its name, application, and mode of operation can change from country to country, the basics remain the same. The postal code used in the US is the ZIP code, and it comes with a “block-level” accuracy which is one of the best in the world.

However, the postal code accuracy is not worth much if you do not have a validated set of addresses, and this is especially important for businesses who regularly send out postal mails. You need an advanced address verification tool like PostGrid that can provide you with an accurate ZIP+4 code of the addresses with it’s Address Verification API that has Zip Code API and Postal API so that you can ensure that your marketing efforts are functioning in their optimal condition.

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source https://postgridplatform.weebly.com/blog/what-is-a-postal-code9893031 source https://irenejvines.blogspot.com/2021/09/what-is-postal-code.html

[aurorawest]

Hi! I’d love for a directors commentary on the real Asgardians of the galaxy, any section you choose, it’s my favourite story! Also I was wondering if you could do a commentary on chapter 7 of you come to me wild and wired please? Thank you!

Of course, thank you for asking! I’m so glad you like The Real Asgardians! 😄 I went with this section from chapter 25. Loki, Thor, and Mira have stopped on the Market Planet (aka Promachos), a place entirely of my own invention. Promachos is a planet that’s one giant, sprawling market. The section that the three of them visit looks very much like a souk in my head—I was definitely imagining the Arab Souk in Jerusalem as I was writing it. But you know, think the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, that sort of thing. Old, ancient feeling, labyrinthine covered market where it feels like you can get everything that’s ever existed.

In this conversation, Loki and Thor are having a nice conversation that turns sour, as they so often do.

“You know,” Thor said, the heavy-handed nonchalance in his voice sending up red flags, “that’s something New Asgard doesn’t have.”

“Children?” Loki said, playing dumb and immediately regretting it. 

Not really a reference, but this line has always reminded me of the exchange in Jurassic Park between Grant and Satler: “What are those?” “Small versions of adults, honey.”

Thanos hadn’t discriminated. He’d slaughtered Asgard’s children as easily as he had the adults. 

Womp womp. Seriously though, one of my favorite things to write with Loki is how he absolutely careens from one emotional end of the spectrum to the other. He makes this joke and he immediately jumps to the worst possible interpretation of it.

At least they’d managed to evacuate most of them, though Loki would never forgive himself for allowing a single Asgardian to die that day.

I recently had to put an exact number to how many children survived The Statesman. At this point I definitely was like, ‘eh, no idea!’

“No,” Thor said. “A school.”

“Mm.” Loki was getting increasingly worried that Mira was going to turn around and ask for the necklace. “What do they do, make repairs in the fishing nets because their fingers are smaller?”

This is one of my favorite jokes, actually. Loki is such an ass. There’s so much contempt packed into this sentence.

But more beyond that, his disdain for New Asgard is really important to his arc. We really see him lash out about it in this scene.

Thor glared at him. “No. They go to school. There just isn’t one in New Asgard.”

It couldn’t be overstated how uninterested Loki was in the education policies of New Asgard. Yes, his people lived there, but he had no personal stake or interest in the place. “Where do they go, then?”

Incidentally, I chose this scene because it seems kind of like a throwaway scene, like it’s more to express Loki’s distaste for New Asgard. And it is that...but it’s also got payoff down the line.

Uncertainty flickered over Thor’s face. “They go…I…er. I’m not exactly sure.” Loki didn’t push this issue. It was easy to imagine what had happened, anyway. The children would have been running wild in the months after the Snap. Brunnhilde, ruling New Asgard in all but name, would have gone to Thor, drunk, useless, drowning in depression and grief, and said something needed to be done, and he was the king, so what should they do? And Thor most likely would have slurred at her to figure it out. [...]

“I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” Thor finally said.

Thor kills me here. He’s pushing down every single bit of his regret and guilt. And Loki doesn’t get it at all. All he can do is snipe at Thor for screwing this up, for not taking charge, for not being the king that Loki thinks he should be. I’m actually enormously proud of “I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” because it says nothing...and also everything. Or at least, I hope it does.

Arching an eyebrow again, Loki said, “Oh. I see. So you’re raising humans.”

Loki gets none of this. All he can see is how much he doesn’t want to live on Earth, how much he doesn’t like New Asgard. He can’t fathom why the Asgardians would want to be there. It never occurs to him to stop and think about the fact that the Asgardians have been part of this community for six years. That they aren’t totally isolated from Norway or Earth. In Loki’s mind, New Asgard is like...kind of temporary? He can’t accept that it might be permanent.

“No,” Thor said, making a face as though this was the most stupid thing he’d heard in his whole life. “We’re not raising humans, I mean—not that I have a problem with humans, I love humans—”

Sometimes a little too much...but not in a creepy way, in a respectful way...

“As you’ve demonstrated,” Loki muttered, rolling his eyes. Not that he should talk.

Loki is consciously thinking of alt!Strange here, but of course...gosh he spent nine months living at the Sanctum and maybe he got close to one of its occupants...

“The point is,” Thor said, dropping all pretense of subtlety, “you’ve got some experience with it, and you should come back and—”

Thor takes a massive risk here and straight up asks Loki to come back to New Asgard. Not only that, but he’s asking Loki to come back to New Asgard and...open a school? This is the sort of thing that should thrill Loki. Thor is asking him to stick around! Thor is telling Loki that he wants him in New Asgard. And Loki...

Loki’s glare was poisonous enough that Thor took a step back. “No,” he hissed. “I will not.”

Loki doesn’t take kindly to it. Instead of seeing this moment for what it is, which is Thor reaching out to him, all Loki can see is this like, blaring red warning that he’s going to end up as something he Doesn’t Want To Be. And he doesn’t even really know what it is, right? He just hates what New Asgard symbolizes. He hates that he initiated Ragnarok, which necessitated New Asgard’s existence. He hates that New Asgard is so small, because of his own inability to protect his people from Thanos. He hates what Thor became in New Asgard. It’s really not even about New Asgard, it’s all of this other stuff.

Aaaaand chapter 7 of You Come to Me Wild and Wired!

So this was written for a @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt a couple weeks ago. The prompt was ‘broken windows.’ Their prompts are very very open ended, so I generally check them first thing on Friday morning and then let the day’s prompt rattle around in my brain until an idea occurs to me. With this one, I thought I could do something with the Oculus at the Sanctum being broken. I had also, a couple days before writing this, I had seen a reference to some sort of prompt for another ship about Stephen being angry, and I thought, you know what? It’s fun to write Stephen being angry. I should try that sometime! Broken Oculus means attack on the Sanctum, and I thought, what if Loki gets hurt in the course of that?

And to think, Loki was beginning to wonder if Strange ever got angry.

The idea of these fics is for them to be I think between 100-1000 words. This one was 1360, I believe, when I finished it? So I had to trim it down quite a bit (I eventually got it under 1100 but not quite down to 1000). The ‘And’ at the beginning of this sentence would have been an easy one to cut, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just loved it too much.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

I love writing sweary Stephen. I love it so much.

Strange’s hands shake as he pulls Loki’s torn sweater from the wound. One of the wounds. The sweater is ruined. Shame. Loki’s always liked it. Even without the damage, the blood stains will never come out.

I also love writing Loki being more concerned with his wardrobe than his own physical wellbeing.

Loki feels woozy. Strange’s question strikes him as funny. “I was thinking I wouldn’t get hurt.”

This is clearly not the answer Strange is looking for.

Loki finds that funny, too. “I’ll tell you what I wasn’t thinking—I wasn’t thinking I’d ruin my favorite sweater. Do you see this color? Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?”

See when you’re bleeding out, you can say things like this.

Strange’s jaw clenches. His eyebrows draw together and his eyes narrow. He picks up a bottle and doesn’t bother blotting whatever’s inside onto a cloth—he just sloshes it over the gash on Loki’s stomach.

When Loki yelps, Strange says, “Oh, shut up. That’s not going to kill you. Which is more than I can say for the horde of demons you faced—on your own.”

Gritting his teeth against the sting of alcohol, Loki says, “Yes, but they didn’t kill me.” The wooziness is probably due to blood loss. His sweater isn’t just stained—it’s soaked with crimson. That’s all his blood. The demons’ blood was black.

I’m not actually a big fan of hurt/comfort when Loki is the one who’s hurt. When I’m going to hurt Loki—and I do—I prefer to do it with psychological and emotional torment. Physical pain? Honestly, it’s not that fun for me to write. Here’s the thing with Loki: he doesn’t care. Physical pain doesn’t frighten or even really bother him. He’s completely blasé about it. And in order for it to be dangerous to him, it has to be so bad that he’s passed out. Where’s the fun in a passed out Loki?

In general, I far prefer to put Loki in the comfort role, because it seems like it’s such an unnatural fit for him, and that’s way more fun to write about. I like to make my characters uncomfortable, haha. The two people that Loki is closest to in my verse, Thor and Stephen, are also really not the kind of people that want to show physical weakness. And Loki isn’t nurturing (well, he can be, but it’s buried deep down inside him), so like, it’s way more fun to have Thor be hurt and have Loki needing to feed him or whatever.

And I’m straying from this fic but this is the director’s cut, haha.

Strange doesn’t respond. At all. His hands can barely hold the—what is that? Oh, a bandage. He’s trying to bandage the wound, but he drops it because of his hands’ violent tremor.

Stephen’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Strange says as he picks up the alcohol again. He sounds like he might kill Loki himself.

“I’d rather not.”

At these words, which Loki delivers in a perfectly affable tone, 

This line just makes me laugh. Something about the word ‘affable.’ Loki’s so cheerful about his impending death.

Strange drops the bottle. It spills all over their shoes; splashes their pants. Loki’s legs sting as the alcohol soaks through his pants, so he knows he has open wounds there, too.

Trying to show, not tell.

Strange swears, a long string of profanity that penetrates Loki’s fog. He’s never heard Strange talk like this.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Odinson? Like seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Strange rakes a hand through his hair. Blood, Loki’s blood, smears his forehead. “You’re bleeding out. You’re gonna fucking die and you can’t swallow your goddamn motherfucking pride to let someone who can hold a fucking needle and thread stitch you up—”

The beauty of these little ficlets is I don’t have to come up with the whole long slowburn backstory or figure out too much about the characters’ arcs up until this point, but, I will say, I love to write a Stephen who has entirely come to terms with his disability and for him to actually be mad at Loki for not seeking treatment from someone who can actually help.

“This won’t kill me.” Loki considers. “Probably not, anyway. Though I don’t feel well.”

Strange looks like he’s going to scream.

Loki glances around. “Can you use superglue to close a wound? I’m sure I’ve heard Lang say that.”

It cracks me up to imagine Scott describing how like, one time at Baskin Robbins he cut himself on the soft serve machine or something, and he had to close it up with superglue. And that Loki feels this is an appropriate thing to say at this moment.

Strange stares, his eyes blue, then green, then this curious, almost colorless color. Colorless color. That doesn’t even make sense.

In my other fics I usually refer to this as ‘seaglass’ but I try not to be too repetitive.

Perhaps Strange is right. Perhaps Loki is in danger.

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Strange asks quietly. Loki expected more rage. Rage he can deal with. People are always angry at him. 

Lol come on I wrote this fic, you didn’t think there wouldn’t be angst in it, did you?

It’s funny, actually. Loki has always taken pleasure in getting a rise out of people. It’s easy. People are predictable.

Strange has never been predictable.

So Loki tells the truth. No snark. No sarcasm. “The Oculus was broken,” he says. “Broken windows aren’t a good sign. I thought you might be in danger.”

Sometimes, Loki fears he has become predictable. Didn’t Thor tell him so, once? But he can tell this is the last thing Strange expected to hear.

“I wanted to help you,” Loki adds for good measure. He feels light-headed. He probably wouldn’t say these things otherwise. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad. Maybe it’s time he said this to Strange, to Stephen, whom he cares very much for, even if he pretends otherwise. He likes making Stephen angry by being difficult, by being intractable, by being an arse. He likes trying to get a reaction. He feels like he’s standing outside Strange’s window, throwing stones, trying to break the glass of his impenetrable, unruffle-able coolness.

As I write these ficlets, I find that I tend to start with a literal interpretation, and along the way, I find my way to these metaphors. They usually help me tie the fic together, too, so that it’s not just a collection of sentences but actually has a itty bitty plot and arc. I’m particularly proud of this one, I’ll be honest.

But Strange is immune to Loki.

It’s a bit of an act. Alright, it’s entirely an act. Loki isn’t good at seeking attention unless it’s negative.

My cat is also like this tbh.

“Did think maybe I had it under control?” Stephen runs his shaking fingers through his hair again. There’s red in the gray at his temples.

“I thought maybe you didn’t,” Loki replies.

Stephen covers his eyes with a hand. Bloody fingerprints mark where his fingertips rested when he moves it. 

I have a thing for my boys being covered in blood.

“Let me take you to the hospital.”

There’s something in Strange’s eyes. It looks like fear.

Strange’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

Suddenly, Loki realizes Stephen has been putting on an act, too. He’s not cool and unruffled. He’s not immune to Loki.

Suddenly, Loki thinks Stephen might care more about him than he lets on.

Loki looks at his blood-soaked sweater. Considers how dizzy he feels. Ponders the fact that the shape of Stephen Strange’s lips is very attractive; the way his eyes change color with the light hypnotic.

Maybe it’s the blood loss. But he wouldn’t like to die without knowing how Stephen’s lips feel.

Aaaand there it is. So I’m a serious slow burn person, and that makes it hard for me to write these short little things. You’ll notice actually if you read them that there’s always all this unspoken backstory, like ‘they’d been working together for years...’ etc etc. But I always try to get that build even in these short little things, and if I can make myself go, AWWWWW then I’m happy.

“Alright,” Loki says. “I’ll go to the hospital.” He stands. There’s a rush in his ears. His legs feel like sodden paper. 

Stole this line from myself. I have a nearly identical simile in one of my original novels.

They buckle.

But Stephen is there, holding him, an arm tight around Loki’s waist. His hands may tremble, but he radiates safety and steadiness.

Safety is hugely important to Loki. He couldn’t ever fall in love with someone who didn’t make him feel safe, even though he probably wouldn’t admit that out loud.

A portal blooms, Metro-General Hospital on the other side. Stephen tucks a piece of hair behind Loki’s ear. “The sweater does bring out your eyes, by the way.”

Obligatory callback to the beginning of the fic. When I had Loki note that the sweater brings out his eyes, I knew that I would have Stephen agree at the end of the fic.

“Aha, you think about my eyes,” Loki says. It’s getting hard to hold his head up. Stephen guides him through the portal. “That means you think they’re pretty.”

“I think they’re gorgeous,” Stephen says. He hesitates. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

‘Gorgeous’ is my preferred word for Stephen to use to describe Loki. Loki tends more towards ‘beautiful’ to describe Stephen.

He lowers Loki to a chair. “Now sit here while I get help.”

Loki grabs Stephen’s wrist and lets his head fall against the wall. He peers at Stephen through slitted eyes, knowing he’ll survive this, because he’s survived worse. He still says, “I would kiss you, but I want something to look forward to if I don’t die.”

Emotions pass over Stephen’s face like the play of shadows on the ground as clouds scud across the sun. 

I love the word ‘scud’ but it’s definitely one of those ‘you only get to use this once in a fic’ type of words.

He swallows hard. “Yeah, well.” He squeezes Loki’s hand. “We’ll see how you feel after you’re patched up.”

Loki smiles and lets him go. He knows how he’ll feel. After all, he’s been throwing stones at the windows of Stephen’s heart.

He just never realized Stephen was throwing them back.

METAPHOR! The wonderful thing about finding the metaphor is that it’s a really easy way to end the fic. It’s the central theme, right, so you use the last line to tie into it, and done.

Thank you so so much for asking!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Guardian of Creatures; AU! Queen x oc female x reader Chap. 12

*Author’s note*

Well this took some time and planning about what chapter I wanted to do next but I finally took a route and went with it. So NEW CAST MEMBER IS ADDED TO THIS LIST!!! It took me forever to figure out two of my top choices until I decided on how to use them both in a way. So for those that might not know his face, you MIGHT have heard his voice over work so the chosen one to play the Devil, Lucifer Morningstar himself, I’ve chosen Troy Baker. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kinole009x​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@glitter-at-the-panic​

@wormzteef​

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 12,

The search for Archimedes

*Serafina’s POV*

It took who knows how long but I finally arrived at the edge of the desert over a gorge where the Nile river ran it’s course.  I got off my mare and stroked her nose.

“Time for you to return to the village. Thank you for your services Nefertiri.” She nickered lovingly and nipped at the ends of my hair. I stroked her powerful neck before she took off racing back to the village where we bought her and her mate. “Chile ehh? It’s been awhile since I’ve been in a Spanish speaking country but I hope I remember enough.”

I took a deep breath and focused my energy to shapeshift into a falcon so that I could take the long flight there.  Soon I felt myself shrinking, feathers began to slowly peek out from my skin till finally I was flying through the air.

‘Alright! Now to fly all the way to Chile.’ I then took off over the Nile which would soon lead me to the Mediterranean Sea and from there I would be over the Atlantic ocean once more.

It took practically an entire day plus a few extra hours but finally I saw the mixture of both jungle rainforest and urban towns of Chile.  I swooped down and managed to find a descent alleyway to hide away in to transform back into human form.  I let out a tired groan as I collapsed against some old boxes and bins.

“Guess I need to use any bird shapeshifting longer than a few hours. Man I hadn’t been this exhausted since the first time Freddie took over John and mine’s training.” I muttered to myself.  I heard the crash of a bin nearby and jumped but I relaxed once I saw it was just a street cat.  

It looked pretty well-fed for a street cat and it didn’t seem to be as intimidated by me as most street cats can be.

“Hey boy, you friendly?” I made a small sardine appear on the ground and that’s when the tomcat slowly got closer and closer to it. He cautiously looked up at me. “Don’t worry this is not a trick. You can eat it.” He sniffed the sardine and immediately began chowing down on it. “Good boy, good boy.”

After eating his fill, he walked closer to me.  I extended my hand and he gave me a sniff before rubbing his head against my hand and let out a soft purr.  His caution now completely disappeared as he was now wanting pets, rubbing up against me and marking my knee with his scent glands.

My eyes shifted red as I now tried to reach inside the cat’s mind so that he and I could communicate.

‘Can you hear me?’ I asked.

‘Whoa what…..oh it’s you. The lady who gave me the Sardine. How is this happening?’

‘Long story short, I’m not really human. Well all human, I’m a witch.’

‘Ahh la bruja.’

‘Sí. You know I’m surprised you can speak good English.’

‘My humans were originally from Phoenix, Arizona. They shipped me here over a year ago when they got tired of me.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’ He stretched himself out and said.

‘It happens. You scratch the curtains one too many times and next thing you know, you get the boot.’

‘Well it’s not right for them to have done that to you.’

‘Well some humans are like that señorita. Now what can I help you with? By giving me my first real meal in a while I’m honored to be any help I can for you.’

‘I don’t know if you can help me señor gato.’

‘Puss. My name is Puss.’ He told me.

‘Okay Puss.’

‘And maybe I might be able to help. I’ve been practically everywhere from the city to the rainforest, just tell me what or who you’re looking for and I might be able to help you.’

‘I’m seeking the former 3rd apprentice of Merlin. Archimedes the Wise.’ At this, Puss stopped his rubbing and stood still.  He walked a couple feet away from me and he said.

‘Ahh now that. That is a dangerous path. Are you sure you wish to open that door señorita?’

‘Please Puss. I need to find him. I—’ I trailed off trying to think of what to say. I couldn’t blow my cover story, what if Puss knew Archimedes personally? It’d scare him and he’d go running off somewhere else. ‘He has secrets about my family bloodline. I deserve to know the truth.’

His tail curled around him and his ear twitched.  He stood up and walked back towards me before hopping up on my lap.

‘I’ve heard uhh—what is it called uhh—rumors? Yes rumors from the local parakeets that fly by here. About a strange man who lives deep within the forests. A man who has the power to cure any sickness that any animal has, heal any injury. But—human must beware.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘There have been stories of people venturing too deep within those woods. Once they go in, they’re never found the same way they came in. Speaking about visions of their past, others speaking of their sins, or even seeing their worst fears. The people in the village call it-- el bosque de la locura.’ The forest of Madness huh.

‘Do you know where it is?’

‘I’ll take you as far as I can. But after that you’re on your own.’

‘All I want is the forest and you can be on your way.’ I stood up and quickly changed my Arabic attire to fit the Chilean culture.  Puss lead me out of the alleyway and he hopped up onto my shoulder and told me just where to go.

After getting out of the village and hiking up a few steep hills, I felt that the air was starting to go thick, and the jungle was slowly going silent.

‘We’re getting close Serafina.’ Puss told me.  We walked along the wide earthy path, both my feet and his paws crinkling under the dried up grass patches we’d walk along till finally he stopped. ‘Lo siento, but this is as far as I’ll go.’

‘Understandable. Thank you Puss.’ He bowed before taking off.

‘Serafina wait!’ he said after running a few feet away.  I turned to face him and he gave me one final warning. ‘There’s said to be a path that the humans take. Stay on that path if you wish to remain sane. For once you leave it, you’ll never find it again.’

“Okay, thanks for the warning Puss.” He let out a meow before racing back to the village.  I turned back towards the trail and took a deep breath before exhaling softly and continued on.

Before I knew it, I had arrived at the Forest of Madness. Hundreds of trees stood together. The wood itself rotted and decayed; the leaves dry without any moisture.  But what struck me was the very magic seeping from this very forest. It felt—sick.  As if a disease were upon it.

Just ahead of me I saw the opening of the forest and there I saw the path of stone and brick.  The bricks were old and chipped away, and the stones almost buried underneath the dead leaves.

“Alright Serafina come on, you can do this. The fate of the world depends on finding him. You can’t turn back now.” I proceeded onward and entered the Forest of Madness.

Deeper and deeper into the woods I walked, soon enough any trace of the sun vanished from the winding branches above.  I kept my eyes downward on the path and carefully felt around the ground once a corner turn would appear.  Using my tracking abilities thanks to Brian, I was able to determine just where I had to go.

Of course it wasn’t easy.  For soon the magic in this forest was really starting to seep its way into my head.  First my vision started to go blurry.  Not in the blindness sense, but like—well you know how when you first wake up after a long nap and your vision gets that hazy overview, that’s what I was seeing right now.

Then I started hearing whispers on the wind, even though there wasn’t any wind at all.  No sunlight, no fresh air, not even the sound of birds or other animals.  

Just trees. Trees and trees and more trees! Merlin’s beard is there no end to this damned forest! SNAP OUT OF IT SERAFINA!!

This forest is playing with your mind. Just—focus on the…..path? Where is it? Where’d it go? The path it just—disappeared from underneath my feet.  No, no, no that’s not possible I did not leave the path once. I was-I was—I was standing right on the path! Did I move? I could’ve maybe—I don’t know! I need to find it, need to find it need to find the path again.

Trailing on ahead, the forest seemed to get even thicker and thicker as the trees seemed to come closer together.  As I walked on I heard a deep, thunderous voice say.

“He was never good from the start!” No it—it couldn’t be.  I raced over the high roots till I came what looked like a river.  But it was probably the nastiest looking river I had ever seen.  It was so black it practically looked like tar than water.  Dustings of dead leaves floated on top, looking like a river itself.  But a figure stood there.

A male figure with long black hair and wearing familiar robes that I knew very well.

“Father?”

“He’s a Deacon. He could get us all killed! Could get you killed!” but when he turned around I saw the most horrifying sight.  His eyes were whitened over like death, dried up blood coated his lips, scars from a knife aligned each of his cheeks, and seeping from his robes was blood.  I let out a scream and tried to push him away with my telekinesis but nothing came out.

I tried again but nothing.  My hands weren’t even glowing red like they normally do.  No it-it can’t be…..I’ve—I’ve lost my powers.  In a blur, my dad went right from the lake and tackled me right down to the ground.  His hands gripping my throat trying to strangle me.

“He was dangerous! His family DID THIS TO US!! And you left us to die!”

“I’m sorry……I didn’t—mean to leave!”

“Our whole family is gone! CAN YOU NOT SEE!?” suddenly I saw the vision of each of my family members dying.  Instead of just seeing the flashes like in my recent dream, I saw it full on.

I heard the high pitched, psychotic laughter of Bellatrix as she fired shot after shot of the Cruciatus curse at my aunt Molly and uncle Arthur until finally she called the Avada Kedavra curse to finally end their suffering.  Ronan stood over my cousin George who was already holding a dead Fred in his arms.

‘You could’ve saved us.’ My father’s voice echoed in my head. ‘But you abandoned us, like a frightened child.’ My cousins Ginny, Belle and Charlie were slaughtered by John’s uncle Lucius, Ronan’s cousin by actually setting them on fire (like the witches of the Salem witch trials).

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!” I screamed out as I held my arms out and soon all went quiet once more except for my harsh panting.

‘And soon they will follow suit.’ My father’s voice echoed hauntingly in the wind.  When I opened my eyes, every one of my family was gone.

I looked around frantically but no one was there.  The forest was once again dead silent.  I shook my head and slapped myself a few times.

“It wasn’t real. It’s not real. It’s not real.”

‘Oh Serafina, this is just beginning.’ Another voice came out from the forest. I then heard a low growl coming from the trees and soon coming out were Thor and Seraffel.

However they didn’t look like them.  Their skin was cold and pale, their eyes pure white and they had spears sticking out of their chests.  Their dragon fangs and claws extended out as well as their wings (almost as if they were stuck in mid transformation).

Coming out from another part of the forest was Brian and Roger. Roger in his full Nokken form, an open, gaping wound bleeding from his abdomen, his hair now the famed sickly seaweed green instead of his luscious golden locks, and his hands dripping blood. While Brian looked deathly pale. In his Elvish armor, he held his sword out that was stained with blood, and his eyes pure soulless almost as if he were a zombie.

“I told you before of your visions.” Soon slithering out and walking beside him were Freddie and (Y/n).  (Y/n), like Brian, their skin looked decaying and cracking away, and dirt and ash covered their chapped skin.  Freddie had various scars across him.

One on his forehead that actually made blood seep down on either side of his nose, trailing down his eyes almost like he was crying out blood.  A long gash across his stomach and a puncture wound just an inch above where the gash was.

“Freddie?” I asked bewildered.

“Everything you see before you, is all too real.” They all soon surrounded me, cutting off any chance of escape.  “You will always be that frightened little witch that chose true love over her own family. And because of that, we have fallen as well.”

“No! I-I-I-I didn’t abandon you guys! Balthazar said I wasn’t abandoning you!”

“Well he lied. Just as all the Deacons do. Kill her.” He hissed.  Soon to make the first strike was (Y/n).  They used a spell on my but I quickly dodged out of the way.  But soon piling on top of me with sharp teeth and claws were my own sons and Roger.

With my son’s dagger like teeth mixed with Roger’s serrated ones biting into my skin, it made me cry out in pure agony.  It felt like they were pealing off my skin slowly with each bite and their claws, dug deep into my flesh like a knife to a roast.  I tried to fight them off of me, trying to shapeshift into a lioness or a bear but not even my shapeshifting magic was working.

All I could do was scream and try to just push them off of me but it did me no good.  Soon I felt a tackle behind me and I went forward down a steep, rocky drop.  It felt like eternity that I was rolling over jagged rocks or hard solid earth until I landed hard on my back.  I groaned as I tried to sit myself up.

“Yes! We’ve got her!” Freddie hissed from above as they all came sliding down the hill towards me.  Brian took the first leap with his sword held high, ready to strike me down. As quick as I could I got up and ran just as he came down and struck his sword downward.  Roger, Seraffel and Thor taking the chase. “You can’t hide from us! Where you go, we go!”

I felt Thor tackle me from behind, taking me straight down into the dirt.  I quickly turned and grabbed the spear and pushed it deeper into him which made him scream and recoil inward in pain.  I hated to see my baby boy hurt like that but I had no choice but to keep running.

But soon I was trapped by a closed off gorge.  Nothing but rocks and boulders blocked my only way out. I turned to see everyone of my family getting closer, Roger and Seraffel’s roars, Freddie’s hissing sent chills up my spine.

Without any other choice, I proceeded to climb up.  I climbed and climbed and climbed, I would even send a trail of rocks down towards them to try and deter them away. It only worked for a second till they would just wait at the bottom, almost as if they were wanting me to fall.

Exhausted, dizzy, and dehydrated I still tried my best to climb up the gorge.  It seemed like every second I would find myself slipping, almost about to fall god knows how many feet to the dangerous animals down below.  After an eternity, I was now dangling from the last few inches of finally being free, but a figure stood in my way between freedom and death.

The figure removed their black hood and I saw John standing above me.  His face expressionless as he stared down at me.

“John!” I pleaded.  I felt myself slipping from the edge. “My love, help me!” my feet kicking the side trying to stay up, rocks slipping down from underneath me.  John continued to look down at me expressionlessly, almost like he didn’t even care whether or not I died.

From his robes he took out his grandfather’s wand and said the two most dangerous, horrifying word I’d never thought I’d hear him say to me.

“Avada Kedavra.” The wand flashed green and I felt the spell hit me.  I felt every muscle and vein in my body slowly shut down as John crouched down in front of me and whispered, “The last of the Black family finally extinguished.”

My grip soon faltered and I felt myself falling to my death. I was frozen, the last thing I saw was my beloved John Deacon with the very wand he never wanted to inherit, and his eyes turning the same color as his grandfather’s.  One brown while the other a ghostly white.

*3rd Person POV*

Down below a flash of a figure came running across the forest. It leaped up the gorge before grabbed Serafina before she could impact hard onto one of the many rocks which would soon cause an avalanche of boulders, surely killing her that way.

He leaped from rock to rock till he reached the top of the gorge, looking down at the young witch who was now paralyzed by the magic of the forest.  He set her down and placed two fingers on her neck, checking to see if she still had a pulse. She did but it was faint.

He soon picked her up before racing off deeper into the forest. His body only a flashing blur with how fast he was moving.

*Serafina’s POV*

Darkness.  That’s all I remember.  Being in nothing but pure darkness.  It was also cold, and I felt scared……scratch that terrified.  But then out of nowhere I felt this—warmth.  Surrounding me and a voice that I—I couldn’t recognize or put my money on but it felt—familiar to me.

I don’t know how long it took but finally I was able to open my eyes and the first thing I saw was some light from candles surrounding me. As my eyes tried to focus, I saw some flowers being placed beside me and a voice said.

“Well, look whose coming back to sanity.” It was true.  I felt more aware of my surroundings.  The magic that once had been weighing me down had finally been lifted off of me.  I was no longer drowning in darkness or fear.  And that voice—I looked to the foot of my bed and the figure was lit by the candle’s glow.

A devilishly handsome man with short, combed over sandy blonde hair.  His piercing light blue eyes stared right at me as he did a cross between a light smirk and a genuine smile.  A light beard crowned across his face, making his appearance seem even more handsomer than if he were clean shaven.  He wore a fine suit with the jacket fully open and a couple of buttons from his white shirt unbuttoned, exposing a part of his chest.

And he was lounging, I mean really lounging on his seat with one foot crossed over his leg.  His right hand decorated with a couple of rings similar to John’s and over his left hand was the Ouroboros tattoo (the snake eating its own tail).

I adjusted myself as I felt myself lying on probably the softest bed I had ever been on in my entire life.  The smell of azaleas lingered in the air as well as the smell of a light lavender incense.

“Lucifer.”

“In the flesh and at your service my lady.” He said with a bow of his head, his hand going over his heart.  I looked around and asked him.

“How long—how long was I in that forest?” at that his face grew solemn as he leaned down to take my hand and he said gravely.

“3 years.” Hearing that made my heart stop.  My eyes grew wide in fear as I whispered in shock.

“What?” his solemn face stuck there for awhile till he grinned and chuckled, his shoulders shaking with his laughter.  At that I rolled my eyes and took my hand back.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh so now you finally cave in on my offer. I must say Serafina you sure do keep a Devil waiting. It’s been on the table for what? 600 years?”

“700 actually. Belfast 1226.”

“Ahh yes. Back when I had black hair and had a different face.”

“At least back then you were a Brit. Now what you’ve gone American now?”

“Most of my clients have been America, plus have you been to Los Angeles? The Devil’s City I love it!” always the prideful one. Along with greedy and lustful.  No wonder where Roger gets some of his sins from, he and Lucifer are practically cut from the same cloth (literally. Lucifer is like 50% responsible for the creation of Nokkens. Poseidon’s blood and Lucifer’s sins, that’s what created the sirens, nokks, kelpies, and merfolk).

My thoughts went back to the Forest of Madness.  The magic that was surrounding it, Freddie said my magic was even more powerful that John’s yet it easily corrupted me.

“That magic……over the woods.” Lucifer’s teasing face turned back to solemn as he leaned back in his chair, but his eyes were focused right on me. “What was that? I’ve…..I was—sickening yet……heartbreaking.”

“If you didn’t have the support system you have today, yours and his magic would be cut from the same cloth.”

“Archimedes?” he nodded softly.  I sighed heavily and continued, “Well……if you hadn’t shown up my mind would be just as twisted as my mother-in-law’s so……thank you.”

“Sorry what was that? I-I didn’t quite catch that last bit.” Lucifer teased as he leaned in closer putting his hand to the side of his ear. I shook my head and rolled my eyes but took his hand that had the Ouroboros tattoo and said as I looked him dead in the eye.

“Thank you. Lucifer Morningstar.” He smiled genuinely.

“You’re welcome.” He then cleared his throat as he once again lounged in his chair saying, “Besides; now this just means you owe me a favor.”

“You saved my life just so I could owe you a favor?”

“Well that and along with seeing that beautiful face of yours without that persistent husband and overprotective dragon sons of yours lingering over me.” His face then went sympathetic as he continued, “Oh sorry I……”

“Actually, we found them. My sons.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They were alive all this time. Sealed within that bloody urn John’s family tricked me to use.” I snarled the last part lowly as I sat myself up.

“You don’t say. So those boys of yours managed to stay sealed away at the hands of your in-laws?”

“That’s in the past now. All I care about is the fact that they’re alive and they’re back with John and I.”

“So why aren’t you with them now? In fact just what in the hell have you gotten yourselves into? Last I heard was that a wyvern came to attack you guys.”

“Well that part is true. But that’s when the boys came in and killed the wyvern along with Freddie.” At the mention of Freddie’s name I saw the corner of Lucifer’s lips curve into a smirk.

“That old son of a bitch always does like to show off his fighting skills, especially when it comes to the dragon species.”

“Stop it! I know what kind of fetish you’re thinking about so knock it off! He hasn’t once thought about you since the last time we met.” I warned him.

“Aww I’m hurt. Cause he’s all I think about.” He teased.

“Please Lucifer, you still believe that I’ll join in a threesome with you and Maz. And Maz wouldn’t touch you to stab you.” As I tried to stand up, Lucifer reached out to help me but I held my hand out telling him I didn’t need help.  After getting my bearings together, I slowly stood up.

Slightly wobbling but soon I found my footing.  I took a couple steps forward.

“In all seriousness Lucifer, how long was I in those woods? Clearly it hasn’t been a day if my legs are this wobbly.”

“2 weeks. And you were out for almost another whole week. Took almost every spell I knew to even get your mind back to sanity.” So it’s been 3 weeks since I last seen the others.  “Now you didn’t answer my question; why are you here? I’ve never seen you this far from John’s side for as long as I’ve known you. And the only reason for that is if—”

“Yes Lucifer. It’s time.” I told him.  His eyes narrowed.

“So, the human savior Fred spoke of has finally came into the picture.”

“Yes. And I also know the truth. The real truth about the fall of the 3 apprentices. Balthazar came to me in his true form and told me about Archimedes. I can only assume that since you’re here, you know where he is.”

“I might.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Don’t screw with me Lucifer!” he just looked at me. “I know about the Guardian of Creatures. About Wanda Arya Black.” His eyes widened for a brief second.  “You knew her too?”

“Not personally but Roger is very descriptive. When I first met you, I had to do a double take because you were exactly how he described Wanda to be. But I guess reincarnation can exist among the wizarding community.”

“Lucifer I need to find him. A Guardian of Creatures must ascend. I need to train under him.” He sighed deeply.

“He already knows you’re here. Now whether or not he knows what your purpose for being here is, I don’t know.”

“Can you take me to him?” he stood up from his chair.  He spoke not a word but walked out of the room. Without question I followed in his footsteps till we came out of house.

I noticed that is was at the peak hour of dawn where night was just about over but the sun had not yet risen.  We walked through the forest trail, I noticed that this part of the forest wasn’t coated with that spell that surrounded the rest of the forest, probably making this section the ‘Eye of the Forest of Madness’.  Like the eye of the storm where everything is calm and quiet before the second wave hits.

“Follow the trail North to where the Phoenix rises in the sky. There, you will find the Sorcerer you seek.” Lucifer told me as he pointed outward.

“But what if I get lost again? Lose the path and be driven mad again?” he turned towards me and walked up to me.  His hand came to the back of my head and in a flash his lips crashed onto mine.  My eyes widened and I pushed him off of me. “What the fuck Lucifer!?”

“You’ve now been given a protection spell from the Devil himself. No spell, not even by the great Sorcerer Supreme, can even touch you so long as you bare my seal.”

“You couldn’t have at least given me a pendant? Or spoke it verbally?”

“You and I could’ve had sex but I knew you’d say no to that.” I went to say something but he was right.  Damn him! “And come on don’t tell me you at least didn’t enjoy it a little bit.”

“Shut up!” I snapped at him turning my head away, and I hate to admit this but I did feel a blush coming across my cheeks.

“Yeah I see that blush Sera.” Lucifer teased with that smug cheeky grin on his face.

“I said shut up!” I snapped at him louder before taking off to where he told me to go.  The last thing I heard was his laughter ringing out.  Merlin’s beard he could be a real dick at times.

As I walked along the trail I soon came to the entrance of a cave.  Cautiously I entered in the cave and the first thing I was hit was an aura of ultimate power.

Another advantage of my telepathic powers is that I can sense the spiritual aura of another being.  The powerful the creature/being, the powerful the aura.  At times it’s overwhelming (like when I first got to see Freddie’s aura, and of course Lucifer’s) but overtime I’ve come to control of how it affects me.

This however—this was a magical aura I had never felt before. As I walked further into the cave, I noticed that there seemed to be drawings of some sorts.  I wonder if I can now…..I focused on trying to summon a light with my red aura.  But nothing came out.

“Worth a shot. Guess this whole place, even in the eye of this very forest is magic-proof.” Soon enough I saw a light at the end of the tunnel.  The sunrise was finally coming.

I raced towards it and soon I came to an extended ledge that stood over the rest of the forest.  For the first time in weeks I got to finally feel the rays of the sun hit my face and it felt like a wave of relief.  I inhaled the clean air as deeply as I could as I extended my arms out, letting the sun’s rays embrace me.

Soon my ears heard the sound of a bird.  It was unlike any muggle bird I’ve heard and it defiantly wasn’t a griffin or hippogriff.  It was like heard a song, but it sounded heartbreaking.  As the sun rose higher and higher into the sky, a figure soon emerged out of the sun itself.

It continued to let out a few more of it’s broken-hearted song-like cries as it came flying towards me, leaving a trail of fire in it’s wake.  No way it—it was a phoenix.

It now hovered above me and that power I felt just before I entered the cave, it was now stronger.  And it was coming from this phoenix.  But wait, I knew phoenix’s carried such great power but this—this wasn’t any ordinary phoenix.

It’s eyes stared directly at me and it may have been the after affect of falling under the forest’s spell, but I could swear I was hearing voices singing a song.  A choir of voices.  It was very faint and I couldn’t quite make out the words but I could hear their song.

The phoenix swooped down and landed before me. Another thing that made this phoenix—well different was that it actually came up to the height of my waist. Phoenixes are actually fairly normal sized birds, no different than the size of a falcon.

The phoenix continued to stare at me and it even took a step closer to me.  I backed my right foot away not surer what to do.  Without any weapons on hand or my powers, I was defenseless against a bird that can easily set itself on fire.  And speaking of which, the phoenix soon burst into flames, the fire shooting upward like a volcano.

I shielded myself as best as I could.  The wind and fire mixed together created such power but it was when all went quiet once more that I now stood in shocked awe.

In the place of the phoenix was the silhouette of a man in a familiar yellow wizard robe.  At his hip was a sword of Elvish made, only one blade would catch the light of the sun and make it shine like a star.  His hood was up over his face but just based off this power he was giving out; I had a hunch of just who this was.

His hands reached for his hood and he revealed his face. The very face that has not aged since he was last seen alive by any Wizard.  Those brown eyes looked at me in disbelief, his lips slightly parted as he gawked at me.

“Archimedes.” I spoke his name.

[ohhoworiginalrfaheadcanons]

Since we discussed it: RFA with American MC lol o/

Okay, lemme do this. I find 2nd person pretty cringy so I'll avoid using it if I can. Also, I'm not that knowledgeable about Korean culture, so I can't really go too in depth about possible culture clashes. It took me a while to try to think of everything I could for that.

RFA reactions to an MC who's American

~Yoosung~

That's definitely not what he expected at all! Admittedly, in retrospect some of Seven's comments were probably hinting at that. He's still taken aback when he first sees her though. He'd stopped thinking of her as Rika a while before seeing her, sure, but without any hints as to what she looked like other than that, he'd left it as 'vaguely Rika shaped'.

It's fine, because she thinks he's cute, but she's as tall as he is! He chooses not to acknowledge her being taller by half an inch, because he doesn't measure by those and therefore that makes it completely fair to ignore it when she points it out. They are the same height.

He's kind of out of his depth, even considering how out of his depth he would be anyway just having a girlfriend, but...his perfect world is LOLOL and everyone is equal in LOLOL! Therefore, even if his girlfriend is kind of weird, he's willing to make the effort to get through that! Plus, her accent (she can't even tell she has one) is cute. On the other hand, he's so bad at speaking English that he can only bring himself to mumble it. It's hard to believe she isn't teasing him about it when she calls it cute.

But he lives for compliments from his girlfriend, so she'd best believe he keeps on trying. They still mostly communicate in Korean, but he eventually gets a bit more confident about speaking in English to her. If only in private. At first he tries to use it to tell secret mushy things to her...but then like half of the RFA understood him when he tried it at one of the parties, so. uh. never again.

His taste in food is also atrocious, so honestly, he doesn't find her foreign tastes to be that weird. Together they even organize a raid on Seven's place to steal a box of HBC chips, and then they both pretend that Seven didn't just let them do it. (Why does she know how to say 'I want to be your cat' in Arabic? YOOSUNG HAS SO MANY QUESTIONS)

He's super interested in some of the imported stuff she brought with her when she moved, especially the video games. Most of them are already available in Korea, obviously, but a true gaming connoisseur like himself enjoys comparing the differences between releases! Plus, it's easier to play co-op games with her when she doesn't need to think about how to translate certain instructions or things like that.

Speaking of her things, one time he found a book by her bedside with an interesting looking cover. It seemed to be a sequel book and the writing was too complex for him to really follow along very well, though. He had a pretty good idea the handcuffs on the cover weren't because it was a detective novel judging by the reaction she had when she caught him reading it. He got too flustered to even try to read it after that.

They visit her family back home sometimes, and he's always super excited whenever they do. There's so much food! Why do they sell burgers this big?! Why is everything so big? He doesn't really travel much aside from those family trips, so it's a nice change of pace. Even if her brother-in-law is taller than him. damn it-

At one point, she suggests they cosplay Superman and Lois Lane, but it's so awkward for him to pick her up princess-style given their relative heights that he chickens out. She cosplays as Wonder Woman instead, and honestly he thinks her as an amazon tying him-tying bad guys up with a golden rope is hotter than her as a reporter anyway.

He doesn't really grasp that American isn't a 'race', and brags about her anyway, despite her laughing every time he does.

~Zen~

It's dumb, but his first thought on seeing she's foreign is a moment of panic that he won't fit her tastes after all (despite the fact that she's already seen his selfies).

That's complete nonsense, though, because his beauty shines through cultural barriers. Hers does, too, and while he was admittedly imagining something else, he's absolutely immediately enchanted with her anyway. She's cute and beautiful and different from anyone else around him, and honestly perfect. He hadn't actually noticed the accent before when they were on the phone, but it doesn't bother him now that it's a bit more obvious.

He can't speak English if his life depended on it, so he trusts whatever she mutters to herself when she rolls her eyes or looks way too amused about something is all flattering. It's definitely flattering, because obviously it is. She does suggest that he should learn it, though, just so he can potentially broaden his horizons and reach a broader audience. He doesn't need the confidence boost or anything, but it does feel good to see her swoon over his attempts.

When she said she could keep up with him drinking, he hadn't realized it was because she just happened to be much bigger than he expected, closer to his size. Actually, though, she can take her liquor like a champ, even more than he expected. She claims it's something about college, but won't tell any stories about it other than that 'it was a crazy time'. It's fair. He had a crazy time in his past, himself.

He doesn't really care for some of the food she likes, but then again he'd eat anything if it meant eating with her, so it's not really an issue.

It takes a long time to go visit her parents, since they live over in the US, but he can't say that he hates them being starstruck when he arrives. The only trouble is that they keep trying to speak Korean to him and are so bad at it he can't really tell what they're saying. Given his personal grasp on English, she ends up having to do most of the communication as the translator, but it's a pleasant visit anyway and it makes him all the more determined to get his parents to accept her.

Which isn't made any easier by the fact that she's not Korean. To say his mother is 'displeased' would be an understatement. But he's not really new to disappointing her, so he won't give up, not on his relationship with his true love and not on fixing his relationship with his parents.

Obviously gossip mags go crazy about it. Famous actor Zen dates a strange foreigner girl! Love that transcends the barriers of culture, or something more sinister?!

It's not so bad until certain catty fans get involved. The fact that she doesn't look 'beautiful' enough for the Gorgeous Zen eventually erupts through the fandom, with all sorts of nasty comments coming up because of her foreign appearance. She handles it well, but he loses it and almost makes a public scene the time someone called her a giant ugly ogre. In the end, he decides to make a point of informing interviewers how beautiful she is during all future interviews. It's petty, but that's him.

It actually boosts his popularity, being the Romantic Zen who's hopelessly in love with his girlfriend.

Her fashion taste is atrocious, though. He doesn't know how to break it to her. It's just bad! Even if it's trendy in the US...he just doesn't like it...

They might be a bad influence on each other, since their drinking competitions seem to get out of hand and sometimes lead to Jumin or 707 collecting them in a place neither of them even remember going to.

She eats like some kind of a gorilla without any concern for politeness, and apparently without even realizing that's what she's doing, but it's honestly so cute to him that he doesn't mind. That said, it's not the best thing for his heart when she accidentally disrespects one of his directors in front of the whole crew. He manages to recover, but that particular cultural difference catches him off guard.

For the most part, though, her little quirks and differences just enchant him more. After all, she's his perfect princess, and she already was before they'd ever even met.

~Jumin~

He admittedly had something of a suspicion that she might be foreign or mixed, as he heard the difference in her voice when on the phone with her. He's still a little surprised to open the door and see just what she looks like, though.

Of course his English is flawless, as he needs to be able to converse internationally for business, and Chinese and English are essentially a requirement for that. He can't say he isn't pleased when she determines his 'English voice' (whatever that's supposed to mean) is 'sexy'...but he's also pretty sure she's the first one to think that.

His experience overseas means that he immediately recognizes that her disrespect to his father when they meet is unintentional. It's still cute, to him. As is her obvious mortification when Jaehee pulls her aside to explain. His own insult, however, is entirely intentional when his father starts planning plastic surgery appointments to 'bring her appearance more in line'.

Her bluntness is something that he heartily appreciates, and it honestly makes him more comfortable to know that he needn't worry about avoiding offending her by being direct as he prefers to be. She's not technically part of the company, but the idea does amuse him to make her one and bring her along to negotiations. They could play good cop-bad cop. (That particular line of thought travels off into imagining her in a police woman's uniform, and then he loses the train of thought entirely)

He thinks her taste in food is quirky, but his palate is somewhat expansive when it comes to international cuisine, so it works out just fine with him. Any food that he eats alongside her is food that he enjoys, so the issue is moot.

Apparently, the rumor magazines go wild every time she appears with him somewhere, but he never bothers to read those, so he has no idea what they have to say about her. If it's anything damaging, he trusts Jaehee to deal with it. It's probably for the best, because if he did catch any of the rude things they say about the gold digging foreign wife of the director of C&R, his policy of ignoring hateful comments would not hold up long.

That said, really the biggest culture clashes and shock come not from her American raising, but from her being poor. Most of what she learned about Korean culture before moving over just didn't touch on what the very rich and famous would be like.

~Jaehee~

Of the many things she had considered about her fellow female member of the RFA, that she might be a foreigner isn't one of them. Maybe she should have noticed from the little quirks in chat...but...no, everyone in the RFA is bizarre and always has been.

It suddenly makes sense why MC couldn't really understand what Jaehee was going through at work, and why MC hadn't been familiar with Zen! But that's just fine, because it means Jaehee gets the opportunity to introduce MC to all the more Zen things together!

She's not sure if she should be offended when the woman compares her cafe to Starbucks....but if she's compared to anything, it may as well be Starbucks. And it does give her the idea to make Zen-themed drinks, which means basking in his beauty at work while also helping to contribute to his popularity. Although, admittedly, it did more for her cafe than him.

She's occasionally mortified by the MC's unintentional rudeness, but more often than not her greatest concern to unexpected rudeness is finding a way to stifle her amused laughter. The sheer confusion on her ex-boss's face the first time it happens to him gets her through some of the rough times trying to set up and keep the business afloat.

She's not particularly good at English, but she's a fast learner, and even though the MC can speak Korean reasonably well, she wants to be able to speak in English too, so that they can both speak in their native languages when they want to. It means their cafe is bilingual, which makes it a tourist spot, which means that Zen actually can get extra exposure from it! She's as excited about that as the MC is.

She's less excited when the MC finally makes she and Jumin sit across each other and "talk about your problems or else". That's an awkward conversation she really could have done without. But...well, it's only inevitable MC's special kind of bluntness would eventually lead to something like that.

It goes better than she expects, actually, and the tension that's been zapping around them since that party finally goes away.

It goes too well.

He starts suggesting that they convert it to a cat cafe.

Oh no.

~707~

He could tell immediately from the moment he looked at the camera footage, which admittedly made the background check a little harder. It's fine though, because he did it several times, and now knows her family tree, GPA, and what boat her family got off on some hundred years ago.

The jig is up immediately, because he's a huge nerd and just immediately spoke in English when he called. He's fluent, obviously, but he doesn't get enough opportunities to practice, so now he can try out the 'cool' phrases he's come up with, and try to get rid of the pesky accent that gets in the way of certain assignments.

He doesn't tell anyone because it's way funnier for everyone to be confused when they come to the party and see someone they don't expect. He even offers a cute looking model to use as a messenger icon just to throw people off more.

He is way too excited the first time she comes home and said "Lucy, I'm home~!" - the fact that she's not an old fossil and thus actually didn't ever watch it in her life doesn't seem to matter to him.

At one point he playfully suggests that USA sinks actually have PhD Pepper running through their pipes instead of water, but she gets him back by saying she prefers doh-ritos to honey buddha chips. He's horrified and declares her tastes are never to be trusted again.

In reality, though, their tastes align pretty closely. Heavily greasy and extra sweet food with zero nutritional value are his heaven (she insists there's plenty of nutritional value. He pretends he doesn't hear her.)

For the most part, it's no different for him where the MC is from, because he doesn't exactly fit in himself and he's been all over the place anyway. The only significant conflict between them due to cultural differences came from when he decided to show up at her place and then immediately turn the cold shoulder and try to push her away.

He almost died.

She's terrifying.

~V~

He can't see a difference

he's blind

im kidding, i just don’t know v enough to include him

[hellyeahomeland]

S3.E9/10: Of what ethnicity are the Marines that trained with and is going to Iran with Brody? they're NOT marines because... First of all, the team that trains & escorts Sgt Brody are probably not Marines. When Brody flips his socks inside out to get the "fresh side", one of the team members asks him if that is a "Marine thing," implying that he is not a Marine himself. The only other clue we get to their identity is when Saul refers to them as "our men." So we known that they are Americans

operatives, but he does not indicate if they are CIA agents, US soldiers, or private contractors. Given the nature of the mission, it's likely that these men were actually Green Berets. The Marines have a relatively small special operations force, called Raiders. This is due to their core belief of "esprit de corps," which basically means that all Marines are elite Marines. The SEALS are another possibility, but they focus on brute-force missions such as hostage rescue and so-called counterterrorism. On the other hand Green Berets specialise in intelligence operations such as this, where they require the cultural and linguistic skills to convince the Persians that they are actually al-Qaeda members. They likely needed to speak Arabic fluently for their al-Qaeda cover story, and Farsi in order to communicate with the Iranians).As far as their ethnicity, you would assume that they were attempting to blend in as Iraqis in order to fit their cover story. They would never send Israelis to Iran, not only because Israel is the enemy of Iran, but also because Israel is an ally of the United States. Persian Americans wouldn't work either because their ties to America would be too suspicious, and it wouldn't fit the cover story. Instead, they would need operatives who could completely conceal their American identity. Only 4 members of the team that trained Sgt Brody are listed in the credits: Jared Ward is a white American who plays Yousef Turani; the doctor. Jaylen Moore is an American who grew up in Omaha, Nebraska. He plays Eric Baraz. Donnie Keshawarz is a Candian-born American of Afghan descent. He plays Hafez 'A-Z' Azizi; the leader. Walid Amini is an Afghan-Canadian who plays Josh Modarres. Given these aspects, it would be logical to change the page of tags about "Season Three: Hot bearded Marines"?

It would be logical, perhaps. But "#hot bearded green berets or maybe special ops or navy seals or who the heck knows?" is not nearly as catchy.

[crusherthedoctor]

The Lutrudis Hadeer Design Concept Masterpost

Every now and then, I get the occasional question about my very own Lutrudis, which I'm always gladly willing to answer. Yet for all the times I've answered such questions, it seems some folks are still a bit left in the dark as to how Trudy came to be. So I figured I could make one big post all about the creation process. Maybe not every single detail per say, but at least everything that I think is worth mentioning in a post of this sort.

I'm aware that fellow pal @benignmilitancy​ covered this subject herself recently, but I might as well do my part to back up what she said.

1. When did Lutrudis become an idea?

The basic idea for Lutrudis - and indeed, the setting of Viridonia and Beyond the Stars itself as a story - was thought up as early as 2014. When I say basic idea however, I really do mean it, as aside from the general concept of her being the latest Friend of the Week helping Sonic and Co fight evil on her home island, very little else about Trudy was set up, including her name and species. While some aspects of her personality were already set in stone by that point, I focused on the design first when I decided to go ahead and make her and Beyond the Stars a real thing. The idea being to use what personality traits I had in mind to create a mental image, then use that mental image to help figure out the rest of her traits, as a design can often help out with working out a personality.

So basically, I scratched my back, so that I could scratch it again. Made sense to me.

2. Why a horse? Is it because friendship is magic?

Maybe...

Actually, I wanted a species that hadn't been used before, at least in the games, its continuity being the one Beyond the Stars takes place in. But at the same time, I also wanted to go with a fairly mundane species rather than anything rare, extinct, or extravagant, as I felt that the latter would undermine the story arc that I had in mind for this particular character. Compared to the likes of Sonic, Shadow, or Blaze, Lutrudis is more akin to Amy in the sense that she's ordinary by comparison, despite her living conditions and the magical brand of ammo she eventually decides to use. To have the arc of a “normal” lady becoming a hero in her own right be represented by a T-rex or a dragon wouldn't really land the same impact in the context of this universe.

Already, I was quickly warming up to making her a horse because of this. But then I realised that many of Trudy's personality traits - her loyalty, her passion, her elegance - were ALSO commonly attributed to horses in real life. And if you're not aware, I'm a big fan of letting Sonic and Co have character tics representative of their species, and a horse in particular had plenty of potential to have some funny and cute moments by letting their horsiness show itself. This additional thought helped make my decision on the matter final.

...Well, that and I wanted Trudy to have longer hair than the average Sonic female due to how, IMO, short hair wouldn't work as well for her. Obviously horses have manes, so that made it easier to get away with than it would have if she were a hedgehog, though it also helps that Trudy's hair is never any more detailed than the rest of her, meaning her hair actually looks like her own rather than her wearing an overly detailed wig to appease a certain disgraced comic writer, one of whom I will probably have the entirety of Beyond the Stars uploaded by the time he actually does something with his echidna libido-fueled comic at this rate... Looking forward to it in 2030.

As for what kind of horse she is, I decided to go with an English Thoroughbred, if only to further justify Trudy's English accent, which is nonetheless fairly mild compared to everyone else in Viridonia, who sound as though they jumped out of a 90's Rareware title.

3. “THIS IS WHO I AM... But who am I?”

Believe it or not, but even by 2016, I still hadn't decided on what to call my little pony. I had already figured that whatever I was going to call her, it would abide by the same naming convention as Amy Rose, Miles Prower, and Ivo Robotnik, to help further add to the aforementioned notion that she's an ordinary lady who wasn't born with any superpowers. That, and because “___ the Horse” doesn't have the same ring to it as “___ the Hedgehog” or “___ the Echidna”.

So what did I do?

I looked up a list of female names for baby girls. Duh.

Well, it worked out, because I stumbled across “Lutrudis”, which was German for “strength of the village”. The more I repeated it in my head, the more it appealed to me. Sometimes, you can have various names that mean the same thing, yet one in particular will just have that perfect sound to it. That was me with this name. This horse being named Lutrudis felt right to me, even if I perfectly understood that it was perhaps a bit more exotic than your usual Sonic anthro name.

Not that it mattered too much, since I was quick to think of “Trudy” as a nickname for her, since in addition to being less of a mouthful, that name - also German in origin - had a similar meaning, “universal strength”. Fit her character and arc just as well.

So that was the first name sorted, but what about the surname? Well, when looking at a selection of appropriate words, I stumbled on “Hadeer”, and while the Arabic meaning of the name is slightly unclear - some sources say “adventurous”, others say “sound of the water falls” - I felt that the meanings associated with it were all equally appropriate regardless. Then I combined it with the first name, said the full name over and over again in my head, and thought “Yeah... this sounds correct.”

I realise the irony of a part-German, part-Arabic name being associated with an English character, but considering this is the same universe where a man who is presumably not Polish is given a Polish term for a name (Robotnik), I think we can let it slide.

4. “You guys know what EDS is, right?”

It's no secret that another friend of mine, @greenyvertekins​, has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which has a lot of unfortunate complications to it, but in laymen's terms basically means your body is more fragile than that of the average person's. This condition is rather rare, so much so that a majority of people have never heard of it. Sure enough, I was one of those people, until I became friends with Verte.

After hearing Verte talk about her EDS and what she's had to go through, along with doing my own research on the condition, not only was I considerably more informed on it, but I also felt very sympathetic to not only my friend, but everyone else who has had to experience it, particularly with how ignorant other people continue to react to it due to lack of public awareness. It made me want to do something in dedication, and in the process, a certain pony eventually crossed my mind.

This wasn't done for the sake of appeasing blue checkmarks on Twitter. I genuinely wanted to help raise awareness of EDS however I could, and I considered that perhaps its inclusion in my story would help do that, so long as it didn't sacrifice everything else about the story or forget that it was still a Sonic the Hedgehog story. Yes, it's a fanfic, and thus not as well known as a Hollywood blockbuster or a bestselling novel, but if even a few people were to end up learning about EDS through Lutrudis, I would be happy.

However, I was well aware that the idea of a Sonic character having EDS might be seen as a bit jarring, and if done badly, could potentially be accidentally insulting. So I made sure to consult Verte about it, saying that I would only go through with it if she was comfortable with me doing so, and made it very clear that I would try to make its representation as tasteful and as faithful as I can, despite the inherent nature of the Sonic universe that Trudy is part of.

By the way, horses in real life can fall victim to very similar disorders, so that was yet another reason why I went with that choice.

5. “Hey Benign, I'm shite at art, please help.”

I can't remember the exact conversation that led to it, but after I talked to @benignmilitancy​ about Lutrudis, she offered to bring the character's design to life through her mad art skillz. Initially I was hesitant to take up the offer, since I felt guilty about having to rely on someone else to show people what my own character looks like, but I was giddily honored by the offer and decided to agree as long as she was willing. Luckily for her, she wasn't working with a blank canvas so to speak, as I had a relatively complete image in my mind regarding what Trudy would look like, having already reasoned to myself why this or that would apply.

When putting my vision into words to Benign, I mentioned that...

- Since Trudy is the same age as Rouge, logically that should mean she's given a similar mature build as the latter, as opposed to the pipe limbs you see with the other female characters. Since Trudy spends a lot of time with Amy and Cream and has a lot of motherly interactions with the latter in particular, it helps signify that she's older than them.

- Being a horse, she would have two slits for nostrils rather than the usual dot nose that most characters have. Similarly, though you don't see them most of the time anyway, her feet are grey hooves, but they abide by the usual Sonic-style feet rather than being more realistic ala Clove's hooves, if only because the latter didn't look right for this character IMO.

- To add to her gentle warmth, her eyes would be a honey shade of brown. Just like how Cream has brown eyes. Again, it's like poetry, they sort of, they rhyme. Every stanza kinda rhymes with the last one. *shrug* Hopefully it'll work.

- Since EDS tends to apply several subtle physical traits to those who have it, at least some of them should logically apply to Trudy as well. Those with EDS often have a bluish-grey tint to their sclera, and they also tend to have paler skin than most, so Trudy would have those qualities too.

- To emphasize her love for Mother Nature and all its amazing sights, and also to contrast with Amy and Cream's colour schemes, Trudy herself would be green, albeit a more gentler green rather than the brighter tones of Vector and Jet, while her clothes would be blue, with slightly different shades depending on the clothing to prevent her from looking like a drab curtain. After a few initial sketches, Benign eventually suggested that some of her clothing could be changed to brown to balance out her overall colour scheme, as well as to further add to the subtle nature motif by having brown (trees) go along with blue (water) and green (grass). Needless to say, I wholeheartedly approved of this idea, and decided that the best placement for the brown sections would be for her leggings and glove cuffs.

- Speaking of, as a nod to her equine status, she would wear leggings that could pass off as Equestrian jodhpurs. (Not that she has an aversion to wearing skirts or dresses, since she's girly and tomboyish in pretty much equal measures, compared to how Sonic females usually lean towards one or the other.)

- People with EDS are unable to wear heels since they can hurt their feet, so heels were out of the equation for this little horsie. But I also figured that regular shoes or sandals wouldn't mesh well with the rest of Trudy's clothing, so I went with boots that were flat at the heels. They can allude to her adventurous streak AND allude to how there's a lady willing to kick ass behind that quiet, mellow, introverted demeanour. Plus, much like how being stomped by a real horse's hoof would be very painful to put it mildly, so too would being stomped by this horse's boot.

- Seeing how Trudy's arms have permanent scars on them - permanent scars being another common effect of EDS - she would wear elbow-length gloves over them, since she wouldn't be comfortable with showing them publicly. Note however that she would still wear long gloves even if she didn't have those scars, since they genuinely happen to appeal to her fashion tastes as well. Covering the scars up is just a bonus. And since long gloves are often associated with royalty and high class, they're also suiting for a lady who lives in a fancy castle (despite not being royalty).

- Her hair is kept in a big bouncy ponytail, not unlike Coco Bandicoot or Shantae, since it's both cute and tomboyish... that and because the visual pun of a horse with a ponytail was too good to resist, let alone it humorously mirroring the general shape of her actual tail.

- To contrast with Sonic's spiky quills, a lot of Trudy's design is emphasized to have a round quality, such as her tail, her ponytail, and her sloped ears. To add to this design philosophy, she would wear a headscarf similar to Wave's. Me and Benign contemplated on whether Trudy's muzzle should be more blocky like that of a real horse, before we agreed that the softer muzzle fit both the round aesthetic and her general character better.

- Trudy has trouble breathing in colder temperatures, and she also has a sensitive nose that reacts strongly to heavy scents. As such, she would have a bandanna that she could cover over her mouth and nose to help out with either of those things whenever the situation called for it, or any other scenario where she deems it appropriate. It helps that a bandanna suits a horse anthro anyway.

Truth be told, I was worried that I was coming off as too demanding. But Benign assured me that giving all these details helped rather than hindered. In any case, I was more than pleased with the final result, as it was precisely spot on to what I had in my head, although even her initial sketches during the work in progress were great stuff.

6. If Amy uses a hammer, then Lutrudis uses...

Trudy has surprising arm and leg strength despite her appearance, which is mainly due to her horsie genes. But since she's still got EDS, it's still wise for her to equip herself with a weapon or two to even the odds. I contemplated a few ideas in this case, including a quarterstaff, but ultimately I decided that the following would be a little more interesting, while still remaining appropriate for the character in question.

I thought to myself “What's stopping her from having two weapons, one for short-range, the other for long-range?” I decided on the long-range weapon first: bow and arrows, the latter of which would eventually include the Ethereal Zone-powered crystals inside the cavern below her castle. Goes without saying that a bow suits her elegance and how it can be used from a stealthy distance, and the use of the crystals and their different abilities also helps to keep the reader guessing on what exactly is the nature of the elusive Ethereal Zone itself. I also reasoned that Trudy using a bow was a nice contrast to Amy's hammer, although I'm aware that Amy herself used a bow in the Fleetway comics. But no one uses a bow in the games (yet), so it's fine, right?

As for her short-range weapon, I thought it'd be funny if she had a whip that resembled a riding crop. Not only would it be used to give Eggman's robots the Simon Belmont treatment, it could also extend up to a certain distance to help grapple onto things and allow her to overcome areas that would otherwise cause complications for her body. Is it a bit ludicrous? Maybe, but so is a blue hedgehog fighting a Roosevelt lookalike. You just kind of have to live with it.

So there you have it! Everything you need to know about how Lutrudis Hadeer's name, species, design, and EDS came to be finalised. Now when you turn her into a monkey without my knowledge or permission for the sake of dunking on her because you don't approve of me making fun of Kingdom Hearts rejects, at least you'll have a better idea on what you're actually talking about. :^)