#we make the majority of the mediterranean

[hiscalliope]

saw some girl on twt compare luigi’s sunburnt back with her own. calling him “burnt chicken breast” and herself “sun kissed”

luigi is a fitzpatrick type III, similar to myself and other people of mediterranean ancestry. yes we mostly tan, we’re not immune to burns. what will cause us to burn? inadequate sun protection (spf not high enough or sunscreen not applied at all or improperly), unfamiliar uv indexes (this is a big one) the pacific islands and oceania have uv indexes the majority of americans and europeans are simply unaccustomed to.

i believe luigi was either in fiji or hawai’i when that pic of him was taken. it made perfect sense that he burned. i’ve had really bad sunburns from american sun, a fitzpatrick type III would most certainly burn in the pacific islands if they don’t have the proper uv filters to protect them. i think we know luigi wasn’t the biggest sunscreen guy.

the sun is more aggressive in that part of the world.

but don’t make fun of him, seriously. it’s such an odd thing to poke fun at him about and it makes me sad. he would probably love nothing more than to go back to that sun

[covidsafecosplay]

The People's CDC has put out a new COVID-19 Weather Report.

Highlights:

Wastewater trends show that the amount of COVID in wastewater is remaining relatively stable at low or very low levels across the country.

Billions of dollars set aside for COVID-19 relief funds were terminated on March 24 of this year by the Trump administration. In response, the District of Columbia and 16 states sued, and courts recently said that the funds should be restored to DC and to the states that were listed in the suit.

LP.8.1 remains the dominant variant in the US and worldwide, though a new variant, NB.1.8.1 has been leading to increased cases in the eastern Mediterranean, Southeast Asia and western Pacific regions. So far, it has been detected at some airport screenings in the US, but it has not made it to high enough levels to be reported on our variant tracker– though it could be a possible reason for the high levels of COVID noted in Guam. The WHO notes this “variant under monitoring” does not seem to be more transmissible or more dangerous than other circulating variants. Importantly, WHO also notes that current vaccines should offer protection from this new variant.

Last week, the FDA announced in a comment in the New England Journal of Medicine that they will be limiting vaccines to people over 65 and those with certain health conditions. This decision is very dangerous. COVID vaccines protect people of all ages from severe infection and death. They’re essential for protecting pregnant people and their babies up to six months after birth.

Last week, RFK released his MAHA (“Make America Healthy Again”) report, using citations that don’t exist, and making scientifically unsupported claims.

Earlier last month, a report on Transgender care was produced with the help of eight so-called “distinguished scholars,” who were apparently so ashamed of their work that they didn’t want their names revealed. (Of course, the administration argues that their names were withheld to “maintain the integrity of this process.”) The report is garbage: It goes against all of the current best practices and recommendations made by major medical organizations. You can read the American Academy of Pediatrics’ response to the report here.

[hyruleairbnb]

I always was interested in natural phenomenons such as diseases weather conditions or mutations. I was working on a series of multiple images showing exact these thematics.

Please consider I portrayed them in loz species due it fits this account. I won’t make fun of one of these conditions. Thank you 👉🏽👈🏽

Im Not sure if Tumblr flags this in your country too but you can read more under the cut 👇🏽

Two headed fish

“Polycephaly is the condition of having more than one head. […] A polycephalic organism may be thought of as one being with a supernumerary body part, or as two or more beings with a shared body.

Two-headed animals (called bicephalic or dicephalic) and three-headed (tricephalic) animals are the only type of multi-headed creatures seen in the real world, and form by the same process as conjoined twins from monozygotic twin embryos.”

Two mouthed fish

I am not sure if this two mouthed fish is a case of Polycephaly too or if this is caused by another condition.

*edit* it's actually an injury not a second mouth. You can see the explanation in the reblogs list

Four legged chicken

“Polymelia is a birth defect in which an affected individual has more than the usual number of limbs. It is a type of dysmelia. In humans and most land-dwelling vertebrates, this means having five or more limbs. The extra limb is most commonly shrunken and/or deformed.

[…] A four-legged chicken was born at Brendle Farms in Somerset, Pennsylvania, in 2005.[6] The story was carried on the major TV network news programs and USA Today. The bird was found living normally among the rest of the chickens after 18 months. She was adopted and named Henrietta by the farm owner's 13-year-old daughter, Ashley, who refuses to sell the chicken.[7] The second (hind) legs are fully formed but non-functional.”

Overgrown beak

Beak abnormalities in birds have several reasons. You can read more in this article , due it would probably be too much for one post.

Stratified rocks

“Diplono Petris near Agios Pavlos in the south of Crete island is one of Europe’s most impressive folded rock formations. The rock strata document an alternation of different limestone layers in the pindos top of the Cretan ceiling pile. These sediments, once deposited in a deeper ocean basin of the Pindos Ocean, were deformed in the course of Alpine fold tectonics, triggered by the Northern Drift of the African Plate against the Eurasian lithospheric plate, which increasingly constricts the present-day Mediterranean as the remainder of the former ocean.”

Hexagon stones

“The Giant’s Causeways consists of over 40,000 basalt hexagonal columns, pretty much all systematically uniform in their shape. What caused this is actually not so unique to this windy coast of Northern Ireland. It is a common feature when a hot, mafic (basalt or dolerite) volcanic rock (either lava at the surface or shallow magma just below the surface) cools and contracts into a hexagonal columns (e.g., Kantha, 1981; Gray, 1986; Budkewitsch and Robin, 1994). The rapidly cooling lava cools from the outside toward the centre which causes contractions, and differences in the way it cools leads to the formation of hexagonal, prismatic column shapes (termed columnar jointing).”

These are some researches I made by my own I am not an expert in any of these fields. In case you have more information or wanting to add or correct an incorrect information, please go ahead and correct in comments or reblog (but be nice we just want to learn )

Thank you very much for reading 🙌🏾

[sevastiel]

Behold ye, my Protoframe oc, Darius.

(Ft @doggojin and @thatfluffyboi's Chanho n Sol, they make an delightful trio tbh)

Some extra deets (lots of notes on him be warned) post cut! :)

Separated into physical and psychological/lore.

Physical notes :

Spanish-Mediterranean, mid-to-late twenties, looms at a ridiculous 6'6" (200 cm I believe? around there.) but is normally hovering an inch or two off the ground. Thankfully, he's gotten into the habit of tucking his legs in a bit so he doesn't hit every single doorframe that he passes through. He lost his left leg from the knee down due to an unfortunate incident with a landmine, and had a prosthetic for several years before the techrot.

Darius's body is made up of connected pieces held together by sentient energy, and all of his organs have either been replaced by the techrot-sentient hybrid growths, or are no longer necessary and have been removed. He currently lacks the entirety of a regular digestive tract as we would know it, and subsists mostly on energy. However, should he require physical mass for either rebuilding/modifying himself, or creating other sentients, he can 'eat' by putting materials in his mouth, pulling his bodily pieces together, and allowing the techrot systems to dissolve things into more workable particles, or pushing things between separated segments of his body (usually his chest) and letting the sentient bits pick things apart and feed them to the rot for storage. (This takes longer and is less effective at energy conservation) Extra notes on this later when we discuss his abilities.

The connective energy between segments is manifested in string-like bundles of force, which are manipulatable and can be 'touched', though unless he's focusing on keeping his energy properly contained you will likely get a light zap, and with prolonged touch you'll likely be able to feel them hum with power. They normally have about the same tactile strength as woven spiderwebbing of the same thickness, stretching easily but ultimately severable with either enough effort or something sharp. Should you sever all the connections, the piece will just fall off. Removed pieces aren't controllable by him any longer, but are re-attachable, and although he's got a body plan that his form defaults to, every single bit of him is entirely modular except for his cranium. Removing his jaw takes some effort, as there are technically still segments of flesh (his lips, basically) holding it on, but it is possible. If he really puts his mind to it, though, he can remove a segment, and maintain the links through mental focus, or by tethering them to something that he/they can feed off of. Through this, he can make replacement limbs for others, or additional armor, given they've got the bio-energy to keep the segments active.

Bodily segments are almost entirely made of toughened armor plating, with the majority of flexibility being located on the twin pieces that make up his chest/torso, as this is also where the majority of the techrot based organs lie. Although he does need to breathe, each segment intakes oxygen individually, through the softer and more porous dark insides. He has full sensation in any piece of him that he's linked to, as the energy connections serve as a nervous system, and can 'digest' pieces if he's in desperate need of energy/materials in a pinch.

Being modular, he can, in the same way he summons other sentients, simply craft himself differing body parts whenever he so pleases. The larger the piece, the more effort/thought it takes, since it requires a greater complexity of systems for nutrient, oxygen, and waste management. Due to his own lack of knowledge, he doesn't manifest any replacements larger than his own legs, and would rather just spit out a patch and slap it onto injured areas and let the techrot do its thing. This is why his 'armor' looks less dramatic compared to actual caliban, because why the hell would he want that much weight throwing him off balance? He'll accept the techrot/sentient's desires and keep his form adjacent to it, though.

Ability wise, he's functionally pretty similar to a vampire. While he technically could subsist entirely off of regular food, it would require a lot of time and careful dieting to gather the proper resources his body needs, and his energy levels would be rather constantly low. So, instead, he just eats as much techrot as he can and prays for the best, or drinks directly from power generators when he can get away with it, or anything similar. Pure energy as a baseline keeps all his sentient systems running, and metals/proteins allow his techrot systems to keep going. Thankfully for him, he's got two boyfriends who are both quite energetic, and really don't mind his needs as much as they should.

Manifesting sentient fighters usually happens in the same way as he manifests new pieces of himself, but with the added caveat that they don't need functional internal systems for long term usage, and he can charge them up with his own power to keep them running as long as he needs. This is obviously extremely resource intensive, but if it keeps those he cares about safe, (and since it appeases the eternal need to consume and create and consume and create and consume and create) he'll do whatever he must.

Due to all of the above, he prefers particularly tight or comfortable clothing,, as it helps mitigate the changes that happen depending on his energy levels. The less he's got, the looser his pieces, and things will just fall off if he's dead tired (lol). So... Avoiding that is nice. Additionally, although he needs his chest cavity within reach for making sentients at a quick notice, he does like looking in the mirror and not seeing his own body immediately as so blatantly inhuman and monstrous. The straps he uses for his military harness are half to hold things and half to straight up just keep himself together. The mask is for keeping his eyes clear of gore while he's in the middle of shit, because that was a severe issue beforehand. Take a bite, get blinded bc there was more fluid than you expected, have to panic and try and fix that mid combat, leaving you even worse off than you were previously? No thanks.

--

Psycological notes and lore:

Before Entrati got his hands on him, he was a well respected mediator that worked on communications for the ICR, and worked directly with the Hollvanian government and its military to allow for the ICR to remain in the city.

Coming from a well off and well expecting background, from a young age he was put through his paces and taught to be the finest edition of a modern renaissance man, giving him very little time to do anything but his studies, and very little affection from anything but perfection. Even then, kinda mid. As such, he is a well mannered and well spoken fellow with a deeply repressed childish nature that only ever comes out at the worst possible times amidst the best possible company.

Having been tailor-made for communications work, he was also ensured a healthy dose in very many other skills that might come up from time to time while traveling. (Including, but not limited to, sewing (which he hates), cooking (which he has extremely low patience for), midwifery (which thank god hasn't come up yet), medical triage (unfortunately has), general electrical and mechanical knowledge (much better for him now than it was before), a few languages, and so forth. Post becoming a protoframe, much of his knowledge has degraded due to the changes required for his brain to be able to control his bio-energy, leaving him constantly irritated when faced with a challenge that he knows DAMN well how to deal with, but cant remember specifics on.

He deals with irritation and anger very expressly, not one for subtlety or sarcasm when it comes to his displeasure. This man will Not be the one making snide jabs across the table, he would instead pull you aside privately and explain quite logically the behaviors he's disliking and see if either an agreement can be reached or if another specialist should be put forth. A trait learned from his parents, no doubt, but also one that helps considerably when it comes to governmental relations and respect.

All of his emotions are generally delt with highly logically, which, when it comes to more positive or soft feelings, gets very awkward and confusing for him very fast. One might find have found him before sitting on a bench, staring up at the falling leaves. If you asked him what he was thinking about, he'd respond that he's trying to comprehend why exactly he should be feeling happy about witnessing something so mundane. He wouldn't leave, of course, he'd still watch, but there will always be a part of him that shies away from emotions as a whole. All the sweeter, imo, when he really starts feeling and letting himself feel. Love is a strange thing, isn't it?

During his time in Hollvania, he got infected through volunteer work, doing his best to actually be helpful past the eternal red-tape. He hid it for as long as he could, taking extra care to frequently wash, scrub down, and then properly bandage and ointment up the affected bits of his arms so he wouldn't risk spreading anything, but it didn't do much for him at all. He was needed to maintain good relations, often running intermediary briefing dialogues to keep both sides as up to date as possible on the ICR's doings, so duty really did pull him in half. (haha) As the rot progressed and claimed more of his body, leaving him weaker and more frequently ill, it was less and less ethically feasible for him to keep working, despite it more or less being the only thing he really knew how to do, and there being very few people who could replace him. If he wasn't doing something, if he wasn't being productive, solving problems, keeping people happy, then what was he?

And then he heard of a man with a miracle cure, our good old Doktor Friday, and the fact that it worked. Naturally, Darius paid him a visit, already having used his infected status as an excuse to let him do a bit more hands on assistance wherever he could. And Entrati indeed did give him a cure, listening and nodding along to all the reasons Darius gave as to why he would likely be a good test subject, especially if it meant that if it worked, Darius would be in an excellent position to grant Albrecht significant funding for expanding his cures to the greater populous, who needed them desperately.

Well, it sure didn't fucking do much, did it, leaving him visually better, but when word got out that the others who'd taken the cure had become super-spreaders, you bet your ass he started panicking immediately. He'd been in rooms for extended periods of time with everyone in command, just his presence might have been enough to entirely destabilize the local government, or absolutely gut the ICR. So, once more, he claimed a stomach illness to take some time off. This was a very big problem, so back he went, livid as all hell, to hunt down Entrati.

He got the whole spiel about unforeseen mutations within the techrot responding strangely, and although he didn't believe it, he already had nothing left to lose. He wasn't a soldier, sure, he had training in fencing, could handle a gun, but he couldn't help like the others could, and he could not go back to the one thing he'd been set up all his life to be. And Entrati had a bit of a twinkle in his eye when he said that there might be something that he could do, but it would take time, and multiple tests, to be able to make it all work. There was another strain Dr E was experimenting with that, as he was shown samples and heard the explanations, seemed to be able to nullify the techrot almost entirely. (It was actually just subsuming it, but visually, the two outcomes were nearly identical.)

So he said yes. Like a fucking idiot.

The initial dose laced him with the helminth strain, preparing his body, granting him strength, even though it hurt so very much, the pain leaving him borderline insensate, unable to do anything but lay there and cry as he felt his very flesh twisting and saw Entrati approach with the second dose after a few hours.

Number two was a low dose of the sentient strain, modified, following Caliban's biological approach, and the reaction between the two was violent, techrot subsumed with a rapid hunger and made to serve a new master. Darius's body quite literally began tearing at the seams, and Entrati took his time with the process, utilizing several more small injections, so he wouldn't die of pure blood loss.

When all was said and done, his twisted body was held together by a scant few threads of power, and he was very much unconscious, having fallen into a coma that would last multiple days, fed with an occasional battery set into the new cavity within his chest.

Wisely, Entrati was not there when he awoke, starving, terrified, and in great pain. All he could focus on was the hunger, that pulsating desire that screamed at him to consume, create, consume, create, consume, create, his human mind utterly overwhelmed by the twin techrot and sentient desires. It took him some time to figure out how to move again, much less walk, and the hunger only got worse by the second.

When the Hex found him, they came across a crying, shattered man, tearing into mounds of freshly killed techrot with his bare hands, stuffing wires and flesh alike into his mouth with an inhuman voracity. He was guarded by bizarre automatons, whos' origin was quickly made apparent by him reaching into that glowing gash that bisected his entire body and pulling out another, his own form splitting and reshaping as he dragged it free.

It took quite some time for him to regain his humanity. Quite some time to mediate the new desires of his reformed body with his own. The urges have not left him, but at least he's got a choice, now.

Prince of both worlds indeed.

[harryslittlefreakk]

drunk in love

a late night talking extra 💓

summary: harry invites y/n to a party celebrating his upcoming final LOT show

warnings: very light smut (pretty much just touchy feely, male masturbation), alcohol use

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: i want this to be me ? if i could have any harry, i want this one 😭 can’t believe it’s nearly a month since i last posted!!! sorry!!

you can find my masterlist here! happy reading 🫶🏼💖

“Harry, seriously!” You were swatting his hands away for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

“Please. Missed you,” he pouted, opting to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

“I know baby, missed you too. But walking into the party late and together is hardly keeping it on the down low.”

It was Harry’s idea to keep it quiet tonight, for you to be by his side as a friend of Gemma’s and nothing more. His nearest and dearest had flown to Italy to celebrate the end of Love on Tour, and while he knew he could trust the majority of the guests, there were sure to be people who’d sell photos for a quick buck. You were happy to keep your privacy a little longer, but truthfully, you were itching to shout from the rooftops. It had only been a month since you’d met Harry, and you hadn’t even seen him for 3 weeks of that month. But it was the best month of your life.

“Don’t wanna keep it on the down low,” he groaned, throwing his head down into the crook of your neck. “You do, and you’ll thank yourself for it.”

His green eyes were peeking at you through the mirror, hungry and desperate for more of you. If it were any other occasion you’d be straight into bed with him, but you wanted so badly to make a good impression tonight. You were lucky to have Anne and Gemma on your side already, the pair of them taking to you so well that Harry even ended up setting up a group chat for the four of you to keep in touch while he was away. A mother’s judgement was quick and usually correct, and Harry had made it explicitly clear to you that she totally adored you. You were normal, she said. But still, meeting the remainder of Harry’s closest business partners, friends and family was downright terrifying to you.

“Would help with your nerves.”

“Harry, we have to be there in half an hour. You’re not even dressed.”

“Don’t have to get dressed if I’m jus’ going to get undressed.”

“Go next door and get dressed. Or let go of me so I can,” you laughed, turning around to press a kiss to his forehead.

He trailed away silently, feet scuffing on the carpet before he threw himself down on the bed. Always one for the dramatics. “At least let me see what you’re wearing before I go.”

You padded across the hotel room, pulling a metallic gold maxi dress from the wardrobe. You’d worried it would be too much, far too attention grabbing at a party where you wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But Gemma and Joanie had convinced you, and now that you held it up towards the window, you could finally see their vision.

The slowly setting sun was beautiful, gold and pink tones washing across the sky. You’d never been to Italy before, and suddenly it was your favourite place to be. The Mediterranean was good to Harry, the tan he’d picked up since you saw him last now rich and deep. He was glowing so brightly that you swore he could literally illuminate a dark room. Even the tiny beads of sweat on his chest sparkled like diamonds. He was delicious, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for too long. The way his eyes were fixed on you, likely imagining himself doing filthy things to you in that dress, made you weak at the knees. You had, what, 5 or so minutes until Gemma came to collect you? Plenty could be done in that time. But as soon as the idea popped into your head, Gemma’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Get out Harry,” she called. He groaned as he heard her, running a frustrated hand through his messy curls. “You’ll look beautiful, always do,” Harry told you, pressing a kiss on your lips as he moped over to the door. He said a quick hello to Gemma before leaving, knowing that if he lingered around you for any longer, he’d never make it to his own celebration.

“What’s up with him?” Gemma laughed, pointing behind her as the heavy door swung shut. “Needy,” you told her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I told you he still throws a tantrum! You think he’s all grown up on the surface, but there’s a stroppy little boy in there still.”

You pulled her in for a hug, grateful to have her by your side. “I’m really nervous,” you confessed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t know who Harry’s told what to, don’t want to slip up and ruin it for either of us.” You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, the weight of your nerves finally crashing down on you. You hadn’t wanted to show Harry how anxious you were, knowing that he’d never leave your side if he knew.

“You poor thing,” Gemma smiled, placing a protective hand on your arm as she joined you on the soft bed. “I’ll be by your side as long as you want me to be. Some of Mum’s friends are coming too, so if you need a break from the crazy, they’ll be happy to look after you. Proper British mums.”

—

The venue was potentially one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen. A rooftop bar with floor to ceiling windows leading out onto a patio, the evening sun casting a warm orange glow over every inch of the crowded room. You didn’t think you could ever get over the views from this high up, even stores and corner shops looked beautiful. In the few hours since you’d arrived in Italy, it had totally captured your heart. You could see why Harry chose here for his final show.

“Ready?” Gemma asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Ready,” you smiled, taking a deep breath as you followed her through the double doors.

There were so many people you recognised, some people you didn’t, and it was genuinely like walking into a weird fantasy. A month ago you were getting ready to see your favourite artist perform, now you were walking into a room of celebrities with his sister by your side. It didn’t matter how many times you went through it in your head, how many times you looked through your pictures with Harry, it never felt real.

Gemma took you to meet some of the band first, Sarah, Mitch and Pauli all huddled around a high table. They greeted Gemma warmly, but when Sarah’s eyes landed on you, she threw her arms around you with almost enough enthusiasm to knock you off your feet. “Y/n! You look incredible,” she grinned, squeezing you tightly. “She’s had one too many already,” Mitch muttered, nodding a gentle hello.

You stayed with them as Gemma went to get you both a drink, listening to their stories of touring and performing in different cities around the world, each tale filled with laughter and joy. Speaking to people who had known Harry on a deeper level for so many years made your heart soar, the same tenderness and care he showed you evident in the way his band mates spoke of him. Just as your eyes began to wander across the room to find him, Gemma returned with two glasses of Prosecco, handing one to you with a warm smile. “Got to keep moving, but we’ll be back,” she told the group, guiding you to some more of Harry’s friends.

—

From the other end of the bar, Harry’s eyes were fixed on you. He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering as he watched you laugh with Sarah and Glenne. The way your eyes sparkled as you giggled, the tiny snorts that slipped out when something was truly funny. He was totally captivated by you. Harry couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming protectiveness, so desperately wishing he could’ve been the one to introduce you to his loved ones. He’d watched as you and Gemma made the rounds, shaking hands and exchanging hugs with his friends and colleagues. You’d mesmerised every single one of them, effortlessly commanding attention as if tonight was for you. He’d had no doubts about them liking you, seeing in you what he did, but there was still a little bit of pride bubbling away inside of him. You were his girl, and you were fitting into his life so perfectly. He may have been a little tipsy, his emotions a little heightened, but right there he realised he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

He started to make his way towards you, silently joining your group with a dorky grin plastered on his face. Your brows furrowed as you looked over at him, rocking on his heels slowly as he stared between the three of you. Sarah and Glenne could only laugh, taking his appearance as their cue to leave.

“Do I have something on my face?” you smirked once you were alone with Harry.

“Little bit of sexy right.. there,” he grinned, reaching out slowly to poke at your cheek. His playful grin widened as he leaned in closer, a tiny chuckle slipping past his lips. "Gonna need to wipe that off," Harry teased, his warm breath brushing over your skin.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Can’t risk anyone else seeing that.” His finger lingered on your skin for a moment, tracing light patterns before he pulled away, replacing his gentle touch with soft kisses.

“Harry!” you scolded, trying to pull away from him before anyone noticed.

“No one’s looking,” he murmured against your skin, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked tenderly.

“Let’s leave, come home with me,” Harry groaned, his voice husky. His hand was splayed against the curve of your ass, his bulge starting to stiffen against your core. Being so close to him for the first time that evening felt like heaven, but you were far too conscious of the amount of people around you. Still, you instinctively turned your head, giving him access to kiss along your neck.

“This is your party, H,” you reminded him, familiar butterflies taking flight within your core as his tongue flicked against your skin. As much as you wanted to give in to Harry, you couldn’t be responsible for taking him away from his own celebration, so many people here for him.

But each movement of his tongue tightened the knot in your core, your walls aching for his touch. His voice, muffled against your skin, whispered, “I know, love. But y’look so fuckin’ good.“

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed higher, his teeth grazing lightly along your jawline. The pleasure was almost agonising, you couldn’t help arching your back, craving more of his touch. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, the strong scent of spirits mixed with his aftershave, almost enough to put you in a trance.

Harry’s voice was filled with desire, continuing to coax you into surrendering to him. “Can’t help myself, princess. Not when y’look like that,” he murmured, your breath hitching as his lips finally found your mouth, his movements soft yet desperate. His tongue danced around yours, exploring every corner of your mouth as though trying to memorise each taste and sensation.

You gripped onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself. “I want you,” Harry panted as he pulled away, his lips swollen and breath ragged.

You were totally lost in him, your chest heaving as Harry stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that he’d convinced you enough.

“That is quite enough of that.” A voice came from behind you, startling you both out of your moment of serenity. You jumped away from Harry to see Anne giving you both the once-over, a hint of amusement dancing across her face. “You,” she pointed at Harry, “keep your tongue where it belongs. You,” she was grabbing a hold of your forearm, “with me.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Anne whisked you away, consumed by the long forgotten teenage embarrassment of being caught kissing by a parent. “Sorry,” you cringed, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s only a little kiss, love. I just wanted to help you escape him before anyone else saw,” Anne smiled.

“Oh,” you giggled, relief washing over you. With all the sneaking around, you sometimes had to remind yourself that you weren’t actually a disobedient teenager, waiting to be caught after sneaking a boy into your room.

Anne took you to meet her friends properly, the women she referred to as Harry’s other mums. They were exactly as Gemma had described, the exact same personality that your mum had, the stereotypical welcoming British mum. They told you countless stories of a younger Harry - the cheeky little boy who was always trying to make everyone laugh, to the teenager who took every opportunity to sing in his bedroom. It was always weird to you, knowing so much already about someone who was still new to you. Thankfully, everyone in Harry’s life seemed to accept that you’d been a (deranged) fan of his before you started dating. As he’d told you many times, it would be borderline impossible to date someone who had no idea who he was. Unless he dated babies or old ladies, and he’d been very clear that he didn’t fancy dating either of them.

“How did you two meet?” one of Anne’s friends had asked. It may have only been a month ago, but this was already your favourite story to tell. “In a Starbucks,” you confessed, cheeks tinged pink at the memory. “I was actually seeing him at Wembley, and we just happened to be in Starbucks at the same time. He asked me for a napkin and,” you shrugged, “we just hit it off from there.” Even the world’s strongest man couldn’t wipe the grin off your face at that moment. You loved to talk about your meet-cute, the way your heart caught in your throat at the sight of Harry’s rings, the way you ended up basically living with him for a week from that moment onwards. And yet, you couldn’t focus fully, still heated from your moment with Harry earlier.

His touch still lingered on your skin, warm tingles spreading across your waist where he’d pulled you into him. Anne’s friend grinned back at you, your feelings for Harry evident in the way you spoke about him. “Sounds like fate,” she told you, rubbing a hand on Anne’s thigh. “Your little boy all grown up and in love,” she laughed.

You nodded, unable to hide the sparkle in your eyes as you thought about Harry. It really did feel like fate had bought you here, a higher power intervening to lead you to him. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry across the room. He was dancing with Jeff, and an unexpected guest - at least for you - James Corden. You knew they were friends, you’d watched Harry’s carpool karaoke and every other late late show segment an embarrassing number of times. But to see him here, genuinely friends with Harry was so bizarre to you. You’d never seen him drunk before, and it wasn’t too different from a puppy with the zoomies. His feet moving too fast for his body, his drink sloshing around the glass as he threw his arms around anyone who caught his eye. He just radiated pure happiness, the very definition of a golden retriever boyfriend.

Harry’s eyes met yours as you watched him, the green of his irises darkening the longer his gaze rested on you. You blew him a kiss, laughing as he mimed catching it and pressing it to his lips. It was insane how someone so sexually driven could be so fucking cute. If you met him for the very first time while he was being sweet, you’d never expect what he could do to you in bed. And if you met him for the very first time in bed, you’d never expect how loving he could be. And now you were thinking of him in bed and getting yourself all worked up again.

“I’m just going to nip to the toilet,” you told Anne, signalling your head towards the corner of the room. You purposely walked behind Harry, trailing a light hand across his lower back to grab his attention, sauntering away without a glance back. You didn’t have to look to know he’d be following you. He caught up to you as you reached the entrance of the toilets, grabbing a hold of your hips with his bulge pressed firmly against your lower back.

“Didn’t think you could get away without me, did you?” he slurred against your ear, guiding you towards the cubicle at the end of the corridor. “Harry, babe, I got your attention so that you’d follow me.”

He laughed, locking the door behind him as one hand trailed up your torso. “Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he smirked, eyes landing on your tits as you turned to face him.

“Was doing fine until you played dirty,” you told him, tangling a hand in the curls at the nape of his neck. He pulled you close to him, his mouth lingering dangerously close to yours. All he could think about was ruining you, having you begging for mercy as he shot streams of his hot cum into you, finally fucking something other than his fist. But he couldn’t do any of that here, couldn’t fuck you the way he needed to in a bathroom stall. “I like playing dirty,” he whispered, crashing his lips against yours. He walked you backwards, hands moving to unzip your dress as his tongue danced around your mouth.

He pulled away to help you out of your dress, his cock twitching as you stepped out of it, left in only your tiny thong and heels. “Fucking hell,” Harry groaned, one hand tracing the curve of your waist as he looked you up and down. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, eyes hazy as you watched him undo his trousers. The second his cock sprung out of his pants you reached for it, desperate to feel it again after so long. Harry grabbed your hand, tangling his fingers in yours, denying you a touch. “Can’t fuck you the way I want to here,” he whispered. “Just need you to stand there and look pretty f’me.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he began to stroke his cock. You needed to come, but you didn’t want to spoil your appetite for him. So if Harry needed you to stand and watch him, a starter before your well-earned main course, you were more than happy to. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, gripping onto your hip with his free hand. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, he never did with you involved, each stroke only making his core tighten more.

He looked fucking hot. His hair messy, sweat glistening on his neck as he stroked the sweet cock that you’d missed so dearly. Precum was gathering on his tip, his rings clashing together as he grunted and groaned, blown-out pupils fixed on your body. You couldn’t hold in the pants and moans that were forming in your throat, your core on fire as you watched Harry bring himself closer to his climax.

“Turn around,” he drawled, pushing your back down as his tip bumped against your ass, your eyes glued to him in the mirror. He pulled your thong to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your entrance. “Gonna- fuck-” he panted, no time to get you stretched out for his cock before his orgasm started to creep up on him. You shuffled your feet outwards, resting your elbows down on the countertop so he could enter you. He pushed into you quickly, the burn pulling a deep cry from inside of you. “Come, baby,” you pleaded, mouth locked open as your walls closed around him. Harry shot his cum into you, sighs of relief tumbling out of both of your mouths to finally feel your cores connected again, finally have his thick cum deep inside of you.

He stilled, rubbing his hands across your asscheeks, dizzy from the sensation of being deep in you.

The moment was quickly broken by someone banging on the door, and Harry jumped back, the sudden absence of his cock making you a little sad. “Occupied,” he called out, buttoning up his trousers before picking up your dress. “Bastards,” he smirked, bending down behind you to help you back into your clothes. He pressed a kiss to the bottom of your asscheek, moving your panties back over to cover your mound.

“Can’t leave together,” Harry said as his shaky hands did up your zip, still dazed from his orgasm.

“Go,” you told him, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “Need to touch up my makeup anyway.”

—

You could hear Harry’s voice booming over the music as you left the toilets, the rest of the party fallen silent. “Here she is!” he slurred as you came around the corner. Harry was standing on a table, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the crowd gathered in front of him. He reached out a beckoning finger to you, motioning for you to come over. You could hardly reject him in front of all of these eyes, let alone with that cheesy grin calling out to you. “This is Y/N, and f’anybody who doesn’t know, she’s my future wife,” he beamed as you got closer.

He giggled into the microphone, jumping down off of the table on unsteady legs. Harry’s audience clapped at his words, a few drunken cheers erupting. “Louder!” he demanded, “everyone cheer for Y/N!”

He had far too much power with a microphone in his hands, you thought to yourself as he wrapped an arm tight around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You knew you were blushing wildly, not at all used to being in the spotlight. You rested your head on his shoulder, hoping it would somehow obscure you from view. “Seriously,” Harry continued, his goofy grin not budging as he glanced down at you, “this woman is the joy of my life. And you’re all close seconds. Thank you f’coming out to celebrate me, the band and everyone who’s worked on this tour. Roll on Saturday!”

He dropped the microphone onto the table behind him, moving his hand to cup your cheek before pressing his lips to yours, harder this time. The rest of the party had started to disperse around the room again, but now it didn’t matter if anyone saw. You were kissing Harry, properly kissing him, in public, and there was very little that could bring you down from that high. As he pulled away, Harry sat back on the table, pulling you to stand between his legs. “M’ so proud of you,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. He was looking deep in your eyes, his stare laced with something deeper than the affection he’d shown you before. “I love y-”, he started, his words cut off when you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nuh uh, not letting you say it when you’re drunk,” you laughed, snarling at him as he tried to pull your hand away. When he finally managed, he pinned your hands to your sides, turning you around in his arms until your back was flush with his chest.

“A drunken mind speaks sober thoughts,” he chuckled, peppering soft kisses down your shoulder. You could have exploded, physically exploded in that moment. “Harry,” you warned, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He pressed his lips close to your ear, his warm breath washing over the side of your face. “I love you,” he whispered, grinning at you as you craned your neck to face him. “I love you,” you replied, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words finally came out. “Can I take you home now?” Harry smirked, his fingers dancing across your waist. “Please,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

[blackstarlineage]

The Kingdom of Axum (Aksumite Empire): An In-Depth Analysis of Africa’s Lost Superpower

Introduction: Axum – The Forgotten African Empire

The Kingdom of Axum (Aksumite Empire) was one of the greatest African civilizations, yet its history remains largely unknown to many. Located in what is now modern-day Ethiopia and Eritrea, Axum flourished between 100 BCE and 940 CE, becoming a powerful empire that dominated trade, politics, and culture in Africa, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean.

Axum was more than just a kingdom—it was a global superpower, rivalling the Roman Empire and the Persian Empire. It was one of the earliest African civilizations to develop advanced trade networks, coinage systems, and monumental architecture.

From a Garveyite perspective, the study of Axum is crucial because it proves that:

Black civilization existed at the highest levels long before European colonialism.

African nations were dominant players in global trade, economy, and military power.

Black leadership and governance were sophisticated and independent, not reliant on foreign intervention.

By reclaiming the history of Axum, Black people today can understand that our ancestors were not just victims of history—we were rulers, builders, and strategists.

1. The Origins of Axum: The Birth of an African Empire

A. Geographic and Strategic Location

Axum was located in the Horn of Africa, controlling trade routes between Africa, the Arabian Peninsula, and the Indian Ocean.

It was surrounded by the Red Sea, the Nile River, and the highlands of Ethiopia, making it a natural hub for commerce and military defense.

Its fertile lands allowed for agriculture, livestock farming, and gold mining, ensuring a strong economy.

Example: The Ethiopian Highlands provided Axum with a natural fortress, making it difficult for invaders to conquer.

Key Takeaway: Axum was not an isolated kingdom—it was a central force in African and world history.

2. The Rise of Axum as a Global Trade Power

A. Axum’s Control Over International Trade

Axum controlled Red Sea trade routes, connecting Africa with the Middle East, India, and the Mediterranean.

It became one of the world’s first major exporters of gold, ivory, frankincense, myrrh, and exotic animals.

Axumite merchants traded with the Romans, Persians, Indians, and Arabs, making Axum one of the wealthiest states of its time.

Example: Roman and Greek historians described Axum as one of the four great world powers, alongside Rome, Persia, and China.

Key Takeaway: Black civilizations were not just local powers—they influenced global commerce and trade.

B. The Axumite Coinage System: Africa’s Early Banking System

Axum was one of the first African kingdoms to mint its own coins (gold, silver, and bronze).

These coins were used in trade with the Roman Empire, Arabia, and India, proving Axum’s economic dominance.

The coins often featured the images of Axumite kings, showcasing Black leadership and national identity.

Example: Axumite coins were found as far away as India and China, proving that African goods and culture travelled across the world.

Key Takeaway: Africa had a sophisticated economic system long before European colonization.

3. Axum’s Architectural and Cultural Achievements

A. The Obelisks of Axum: Africa’s Forgotten Monuments

Axum is home to some of the tallest ancient obelisks in the world, serving as monuments to Axumite kings.

These structures, carved from single blocks of granite, are over 100 feet tall and demonstrate advanced engineering skills.

The obelisks were used as royal tomb markers, showing the kingdom’s rich burial traditions.

Example: The Obelisk of Axum, stolen by Italy during its invasion in the 20th century, was only recently returned in 2005.

Key Takeaway: Black civilizations built monumental structures that rivalled those of Egypt and Rome.

B. The Architecture of Axumite Palaces and Temples

Axumite kings built grand palaces, temples, and underground tombs, many of which still stand today.

The city of Axum itself was a vast metropolis, filled with markets, administrative buildings, and places of worship.

Example: The Dungur Palace, often called the "Palace of the Queen of Sheba," is a massive Axumite structure showcasing the empire’s architectural brilliance.

Key Takeaway: Africa was home to urban centres and royal capitals long before European cities reached similar levels of sophistication.

4. The Religious Transformation of Axum

A. Axum’s Conversion to Christianity

Axum was one of the first major African states to convert to Christianity around 330 CE, under King Ezana.

Christianity became the official state religion, leading to the construction of churches, monasteries, and religious texts.

The Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which traces its origins to Axum, remains one of the oldest Christian institutions in the world.

Example: The Church of St. Mary of Zion in Axum is believed to house the Ark of the Covenant, one of the most sacred relics in biblical history.

Key Takeaway: Christianity in Africa did not come from European missionaries—it was practised in Axum over 1,000 years before colonialism.

B. The Role of Axum in Early Islam

When Prophet Muhammad and his followers were persecuted in Mecca, they fled to Axum for protection.

The Axumite king, Negus (King Armah), granted them asylum, making Axum one of the first nations to support Islam.

Despite being a Christian empire, Axum maintained peaceful relations with early Muslims.

Example: Islamic tradition refers to King Negus as a righteous ruler, proving Axum’s influence in world religions.

Key Takeaway: Africa was a centre of religious and spiritual movements, shaping both Christianity and Islam.

5. The Decline and Legacy of Axum

A. Why Did Axum Fall?

Over time, Axum faced challenges such as:

Overuse of resources and deforestation.

Trade competition from rival states like Persia and the Byzantine Empire.

Invasions from Muslim armies and internal conflicts.

By the 10th century CE, Axum declined and was eventually replaced by the Zagwe Dynasty and later the Ethiopian Empire.

Example: Many Axumite traditions were carried on by Ethiopia, which remained one of the few African nations never fully colonized.

Key Takeaway: African civilizations did not simply "vanish"—their traditions and legacies were passed down to future generations.

6. The Garveyite Vision: Lessons from Axum for Today

Axum proves that Africa was a centre of global trade, wealth, and innovation.

Black nations today must rebuild economic self-sufficiency, just as Axum controlled trade.

African unity is possible—Axum ruled multiple regions and maintained strong leadership.

Religious institutions must serve Black self-determination, as Axum used Christianity to strengthen its empire.

Final Thought: Will We Restore Africa’s Greatness?

Marcus Garvey believed that:

“Africa for the Africans, at home and abroad!”

Will Black people continue to depend on foreign nations, or will we reclaim our economic and political power?

Will we rebuild African empires, or continue to suffer under neocolonialism?

The Choice is Ours. The Time is Now.

[cloveroctobers]

BODE LEONE — Spring Writings 🩵

A/N: Happy Fire Country Friday! It’s just me feeding the ghost town of a tag that was inspired by that last episode with a side of drama or triggers—i try my best to make spring writings more fluff based which you will get somewhere here. I want to say this takes place a year or two after this current season idk whatever makes sense lol. I know timelines are kinda confusing for this show so feel how you feel!

WARNINGS: strained parent and child relationship, established relationships, infidelity of other characters, mentions of abuse to minors, alluding to s*ic**e, PTSD, blood, lots of descriptions that I should be employed as a screenwriter for the show with the amount of detail I give but we can just pretend, also I’m assuming that Bode and Riley were at least two to three years apart whereas him and Jake are the same age? I think that’s about it enough!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 9. Our first dinner party & “god you’re bleeding! how the hell did you do that?” “i was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀

“God you’re bleeding! How the hell did you do that?” Bode’s voice booms off the “almost oyster,” kitchen walls, making you zone back in to the fact that your middle knuckle and tip of your thumb happened to be oozing red all over the makeshift counter and cutting board.

He’s scrambling around the kitchen, snatching a rag from underneath the sink to wrap around your two fingers awkwardly. Applying pressure, which you hiss at, you meet Bode’s concerned blue-green eyes to see that he’s waiting for an answer.

You sigh, “I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

Bode keeps his hands securely over yours and barely glances at the work you started on along with your phone that keeps silently lighting up. He blinks his attention back to you, sensing that you were disconnecting and was not entirely sure why. It was your idea to have your first dinner party after he moved in with you at the high rise out in Hillford, which was thirty minutes west of Edgewater.

“I see that,” he starts, “you don’t even like tomatoes, so I’m not sure why that’s on the menu for tonight?”

Closing your eyes for a moment you lift your shoulders nonchantly, “your mom loves a good Mediterranean salad, so I thought why not give it a go?”

Bode snorts, “my mom wouldn’t know the difference if it was store bought.”

His mom was a decent cook but she hardly had the patience to keep up with it. Majority of the time Bode’s dad was the one to throw down thanks to his own mother and grandmother forcing him to learn. Sharon loved to eat and sample so she wouldn’t be too judgmental…unless she ended up with food poisoning then you’d never hear the end of it!

“Vince would depending on what it is.” You peer at him underneath your eyelashes while Bode breathed out a laugh, figuring that you were most likely right. Mr. Leone may seem like a go with the flow kind of guy but one thing about the Leone’s? They loved to eat and if the food wasn’t cutting it then some words would be said.

Bode hoped the idea of his parents being here tonight didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t your first time having a meal with them and one thing Bode knew about his parents is that they rarely held back. They liked you and they wanted to see him rebuild his life after being released. They were just happy that Bode was finally able to do that but after that text you just received…you weren’t so sure if that would remain true.

Bode gently lifts the rag from your fingers, “the bleeding from your thumb seems to be slowing down but that knuckle might need some stitches.” He announces before raising your hand back above your heart.

Feeling a wave of frustration fly over your being once more, made you want to lay face first on the kitchen floor—if it was sanitary. Hey you kept a clean house, otherwise you wouldn’t be having any family over! You were a bit of germaphobe and tried to ignore the itch of your brain to get to cleaning the mess you left on the wooden table turned island, that you got from a antique store two years ago.

“Hey,” Bode grips you even tighter, prepared to handle the deadweight if you decided to just drop to the floor, “what’s wrong?”

This was more than just you losing blood.

Opening your eyes you move your body around to slump against Bode, who didn’t hesitate to rest his cheek against the back of your head, “Sharon invited my mom and Manny, which is okay, I guess! Then my mom invited Gabriela! Which automatically makes what’s his face, the fiancé, her plus one while also extending it to Eve who invited Jake.”

The mumbling from you was a bit difficult for Bode to grasp but he listened intently anyways to get the gist of it all. There were many things wrong with this and he was tempted to call his mother up right now—despite knowing she had no ill intentions. Sharon seemed to get a kick out of your mom (which only meant trouble) who was casually dating Manny and you already knew your mother was solely the one to drag Gabriela into this. You’ve known the Perez’ since what felt like forever, way back in San Diego where you and Gabriela both attended school and actually became friends due to being in the same friend groups. You both tried out for the swim team, Gabriela made it and you excelled better at gymnastics.

She had the dream of being in the Olympics while you were being shot up with steroids from your coach to be the next star of the team. There was Lilavati Sharma who was the face of the team and carried herself with such grace despite the pressure to always be the best. She was sweet with all the girls and guys on the team and was genuinely likeable. The coach favored her just a little too much to the point she was here and then in the next she wasn’t.

Her father pulled her away from the team and gave the coach a nice shiner to the face that took weeks to heal. That only made the coach train you harder until you broke your collar bone, becoming the biggest disappointment until the truth of your coach came to light after the unexpected death of Lilavati.

That’s when you learned, maybe second best wasn’t so bad after all but that didn’t mean your trauma needed to be diminished as well. You hurt for Lilavati more than you did for yourself and it took years for you to understand why that was.

The universe seemed to have it written in stone that you and Gabriela were meant to be in each other’s lives. Yes you were older now compared to high school but it was safe to say that the both of you have fallen out long before. There always seemd to be some sort of connect with your mother and Manny. They were both once married and Manny’s been raising Gabriela all on his own for as long as you could remember. You recalled the conversations Gabriela would have about the gap she had in her life because of her mother’s absence and how lucky you were to have your parents.

Well…your mother’s been cheating on your father since you were a kid and basically bullied you not to tell your father about it once you were a bit older. Although he’s always known, he hated that she put you in that position after realizing that you’ve known. By the time leaving for college came around, your dad was moving from San Diego to Northern California far out to Edgewater; after serving your mother divorce papers who gave him such a hard time on signing them. She even followed him all the way out there after putting the house up for sale a month before your graduation.

Going back and forth to court was a common thing between them along with a restraining order being filed and lengthy phone calls from your mouthy mother filled your head while studying for finals. So yes your upbringing was as peachy as everyone thought.

Bringing it back to present time, your father was remarried and seemed to be thriving with his new aeronautical engineer of a husband, that you had to cat-sit every time they left the country to explore the world. Your father’s always been open about his sexuality and made you comfortable (considering he was a psychologist) if you ever questioned anything of your own personal experiences. You were one of the rare cases where you always had crushes and flirted once it felt like those crushes also showed interest but…it never amounted out into much.

You never had a significant other until you reached college. Let’s just say, you didn’t marry your college sweetheart. That wasn’t your story. The idea of love that you had wasn’t the brightest although it’s something you always wanted to have, it was just hard to truly receive it. And here you were with a man that always fought through so much in life that also wanted to give love and be loved in return.

“So the gang is all coming basically?” Bode used one hand to gently rub your back, “we could just cancel. It was supposed to just be with my parents…although I don’t mind Manny and your mom tagging along but…inviting everyone else to our place without talking to us about it…is crossing boundaries. How’d you find out?”

It still felt odd for Bode to call this waterfront townhouse his as well but you constantly reassured him that he was open to doing anything that made him feel like the home was his too. For one contributing to the HOA fees was a good start (after fighting a lengthy battle with the court to get EMT training and finally getting a spot on CalFire as stable income was a long time coming). Pre-Prison Bode had jobs before—some that he’s walked out on—but being with CalFire gave him purpose with a smidge of financial freedom. He was able to spend money on things that mattered like annoying adult stuff, a creepy ornamental two piece banana sculpture that he installed on the wall of the breakfast room (a small separate area from the dining room), and you.

“Mom texted.” You huffed, “and I’m trying to get better at not blowing up on her but when she does things like this? It makes it so hard.”

It took a lot for you to stand up to your mother since you tended to hold everything in. Over the years it’s been a build up and she’s apologized various of times but it started to fall on empty ears when she continued to repeat her same patterns.

Bode hated that your mother caused you such anxiety. He’s cupping your face now, gently placing his forehead against yours, “what do you want to do? I’ll call mom and yours up right now if it’s too much? We can have dinner ourselves, just us two and see if there’s any new streams on that movie you’ve been telling me about.”

You send him a small smile, cherishing that, “the kebabs are already done along with half of the other food. We can’t eat all of this ourselves.”

Bode peeks over at the covered food on the rest of the counters then back to you with a smirk of a smile, “want to bet?”

“Bode!”

“What? I can eat and I’ve been dying to try a kebab since you slapped my hand with a Spatula an hour ago.” He playfully glares at you, “I needed a snack.”

“There’s always crackers.”

Bode furrows his brows, “…I thought you loved me but I think you’re trying to starve me. What is this? Three rock?”

You laughed, “well at least one of us has an appetite and I just want to get through this night and enjoy the company of what I thought would just be with Sharon and Vince.”

Bode nods his head, “we still have time if you change your mind so, I’ll give you until after I’ve cleaned you up.”

“I love that you already know that I want you to do my stitches.”

Bode slides an arm across your hips to guide you out of the kitchen, “of course I know my baby. You nearly collapse every time you see prices in the grocery store when we’re out so I can only imagine what the bill from urgent care would look like. Lucky for you, you have a certified first responder as a boyfriend.”

He’s careful with you as he guides you up the narrow creaky stairs to the second floor to the main bathroom and you’re reminded this is the love you deserve.

You’re seated on the toilet while Bode is making a mess—like he commonly does—searching for what he needs. His hands are large and quick as they work the needle through the thread before setting it aside. He turns back to you, moving your hands from the pressure you’re applying against the rag, before motioning for you to keep it on the knuckle while he cleans, applies antibiotics and bandages your thumb first.

Bode kisses your thumb over the bandage, “how are we doing? Feeling faint? Do you need water? I probably should have asked before we came up here.”

“I’m fine.” You smile softly at him as he grabs a stool to sit down on as it’ll take him longer to work on your knuckle, “thanks for checking.”

He hums in response, “want to talk about work as a distraction?”

Blood didnt really bother you but you did cringe at the thought of needles. You can go ahead and write down PTSD note takers! You were an application security specialist, yes a true nerd, and also damn good at your stressful but fulfilling job but it was the weekend so that was a negative.

You redirect the conversation, “I’d like to draw you your next tattoo.”

Did you have artistic abilities like Bode? Let’s just say you were more of a data person while also being pretty athletic—although gymnastics was somewhat history you still found yourself stretching and working out to be crucial to your health routine—you had your own taste.

“Yeah?” Bode asks as he gets to work, “are you telling me you don’t like the two I already have?”

You shake your head, “sure I do. They have their own significant stories, which I’d never change and I have ideas if that artist brain of yours craves for more ink.”

“Appreciate that…so what’s on your mind?”

You deeply inhale as you feel the needle piercing your skin but talk through it, “you’re surprisingly into some odd art and I’ve been looking at vintage Halloween art that my co-worker is obsessed with and thought, why not create a wizard frog with a pointy star hat, wand and everything?”

“A wizard frog?” There’s a teasing tone in Bode’s voice while he pictures it as he pulls tight before going back to your skin while you hold your breath, “Magic’s not really my thing especially since I told you about my dad having me watch that one weird movie with Anthony Hopkins. Riley on the other hand? Could sit up for hours watching that horror crap with my dad…although she always ended up in my room, stealing my covers while talking away as I tried to sleep. As her big brother I dealt with it if that meant keeping her nightmares away, although I regretted it in the morning.”

The both of you share a laugh at this.

What you knew of Riley was that her and Bode were sorta opposites. She had the kindest big round blue eyes, was friendly and open to having conversations with strangers whereas Bode was more reserved before he felt comfortable enough to approach. Apparently she was soft spoken yet determined, into the well-being of animals that she planned to be a vegetarian once she was older, liked magic tricks and horror movies but only if that meant she got more time to bond with Vince that is. She seemed to have a heart on her sleeve and probably would have been a veterinarian if she lived past sixteen.

“Just big brother duties.” You inhale air between your teeth, “and I think she would like my wizard frog idea.”

“Yeah…I can see you two plotting against me.” Bode smiles over at you before giving one last tug before snooping off the excess thread, “all set.”

Before he can even move to start cleaning up, you throw your arms across his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Bode pauses but buried his nose against your fuzzy cardigan before rubbing your back against your embrace once more.

“What’s this for?”

You say, “just because I love you and I’m happy to have you here with me, which I know I probably don’t say enough since words of affirmation is more your thing than mine but I stand by this. I look forward to many more days with you, good and challenging.”

Bode feels his body go warm at your words and pulls back to meet your eyes. “I can’t wait and I love you too, softie.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles at you while you scratch at his facial hair.

“…You’ll think about the wizard frog?”

Bode sighs with a small smile on his lips, “If it makes you happy, love.”

“Cop out answer!” You flick his broad shoulder with your good hand.

“How?” Bode lifts his shoulders in confusion.

You crinkle your nose in annoyance, “You can’t ever say what I want to hear and make me think I’m always the winner, fight back.”

“Okay…I’ll remember that when I don’t want to watch the traitors uk with you.” Bode holds your stare while you gasp with a hand to your chest and then nod your head, mentally saying that was fair game.

Bode can already tell what you’re thinking, which makes him grin at you before leaning forward to cautiously peck your lips. You humph before slowly pushing yourself to get to your feet and steady yourself.

Bode’s hands are immediately on your hips as you balance yourself and you give him a nod in reassurance before leaning forward. You connect your lips again, his beard tickling your face as you breathe him in. He smells sweet like amber, fresh but calming like cypress, and warm sandalwood and you feel like you could just sink into him endlessly but manage to pull away.

“You sure you don’t want to cancel? We could do more of that and I wouldn’t mind.” Bode squeezes your hips with a lick of his own lips.

You pull from his grip, “that’s what Sunday is for, a day with no plans! Now let’s go, chop chop! We have a dinner to finish.”

And you’re out of the bathroom before Bode can even blink. He’s shaking his head at you and calls out, “fine. Don’t touch any more knives though!”

Once putting everything back where it belongs, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He’s not entirely thrilled to have Jake here, since they were attempting to get back to where they once were but Bode wasn’t holding his breath since he felt like Jake was trying to live what could have been his when it came to Genevieve. It took time for him to accept what happened when they were teenagers meaning with Riley but since he’s been locked up? It felt like it was one thing after the next even in his freedom. Then there was Gabriela…which you had your own issue with although you tried to downplay it and there was a smidge of a history that Bode had with her that probably didn’t help…

He just hopes this dinner isn’t a true disaster for both of your sakes but at least he could have the task of throwing someone out…if it came to that of course.

That wasn’t what brought a smile to his face, it was the thought of hosting something that he could call his own with the person he wanted to spend countless days with.

You.

⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀

[dansnaturepictures]

Ten of my favourite spring time sights

In the midst of the Easter weekend, a time for me so intertwined with with the feelings of hope and rebirth that this fine and favourite season of mine brings, I wanted to reflect on some of my favourite sights of this time in nature which together brings one of the greatest shows on earth. There are so many stages of spring for me from the first daffodils tentatively springing up showing the longer days are coming to glorious Marsh Fritillary butterflies stars of the late spring lepidoptera circus, so some in this list are things I've seen already this season, others what is happening right now and some things I look forward to hopefully seeing in the coming weeks. Below is the list in no particular order.

Baby birds

A quintessential sprig time sight, whether it's ducklings and goslings, Great Crested Grebe humbug chicks nestled on parents backs or voracious and noisy young Starlings adorning the garden; seeing young birds brings me immense joy.

2. Cuckoos

Not much epitomises this wonderful season more for me than the consuming echoing call of the Cuckoo and exhilarating views of these enigmatic birds. The adults are with us a short while and those weeks it really feels like the year wakes up.

3. Warblers

Moving on from Cuckoos to a family featuring species who's nests they parasitize, in a similar way to Cuckoos being surrounded by warbler song in reedbeds and other habitats and getting exiting glimpses of pretty birds is a powerful sensory experience. The onomatopoeic Chiffchaffs and the tuneful Blackcaps start the marching band early in the season with migratory Sedge and Reed Warblers with their raspy tones, Whitethroat and exquisite sounding Garden Warbler coming later and the explosive call of the Cetti's Warbler a resident bird now adding to the spring time spectacle.

4. Hirundine and Swifts

Where the warblers rule the reedbeds in spring Swallow, House Martin, Sand Martin and Swift rule the skies. "One Swallow doesn't make a summer" but it lets you know spring has come. There is something of a milestone marker in seeing these species for the first time in a year and knowing hopeful times are here mixed well with wonder when considering the long and arduous journeys these precious species have made to return.

5. Seabirds coming back to nest

A personal favourite of mine with one of the groups of birds that have inspired me most, these favourite birds of mine being here makes it one of the best times of year. Locally for me early on seeing Mediterranean Gulls return to nesting grounds with their pristine jet black heads emerging and their unique wailing call with terns exciting me too are highlights. And further afield I am captivated by the likes of Guillemot, Razorbill, Puffin, Fulmar, Kittiwake and Gannet in immense bustling cliff colonies.

6. Duke of Burgundy butterflies

Butterflies generally are one of my favourite parts of spring, I can't help but be uplifted as a variety of species of these flamboyant insects take to the wing. Duke of Burgundy is one we are lucky to be able to see further afield within our home county of Hampshire and this gem of a butterfly feels a major milestone as often one of the first we go to specifically look for so you know the peak butterfly season is starting to blossom.

7. Orange Tip butterflies

Taking it back and if the season blossoms with the dukes seeing Orange Tips is where it really starts to take root. These bright species light up the world.

8. Damselflies and demoiselles

Dragonflies start coming out in spring but are quite a fixture in the summer and into the autumn too so spring for me feels like the time to focus on the smaller damselflies and demoiselles more, these glowing insects including Common and Azure and Large Red Damselflies and Beautiful and Banded Demoiselles symbolise the wonder and colour this season brings.

9. Snake's-head fritillary flowers

Seeing soggy grassland come alive with these purple and white wonders nodding from their slender stems is a sight that feels my heart with glee in the early days.

10. Cuckooflowers

A caterpillar food plant of the Orange Tip, these pretty flowers seem to emerge with confidence and soon appear in numbers, a part of the natural furniture of those days when you know the season has turned and the bright days of spring are well and truly here.

The photos in this photoset are of; a couple taken yesterday of a Mallard duckling and record shot of a Cuckoo at Cadman's Pool in the New Forest, a Sedge Warbler at Winnall Moors on Wednesday, Swallow at RSPB Bempton Cliffs last June, Mediterranean and Black-headed Gull at Hayling Island Oysterbeds this March, Duke of Burgundy at Noar Hill last year and Orange Tip at Winnall Moors in 2023, Large Red Damselfly at Lakeside Country Park in 2020, snake's-head fritillary at Lakeside recently and cuckooflower there on Monday.

[meowerswowzers97]

Hello! I hope this message finds you happy and well. I really love your writing, and I would like to request a smut for Daryl, too, if that's ok. :)

I was thinking short, petite reader with a Mediterranean form, long hair (bellow butt), wears mostly cute casual dresses. Overall, she's a very positive person, loves helping in any way she can, but also she is capable of defending her people and herself if needed. She was a medical student before the fall and also came from Greece (if you don't like that part, it's totally understandable. 😊).

For Storyline, I was thinking something like they met when she saved him from a group of walkers by distracting them, and he brought her back to the group. As time passes, they grow feelings for each other. Everyone knows they are down bad for each other but the two of them. Maybe there's also a misunderstanding like he thinks she likes someone else and gets mad. So, mutual pining, kinda mean Daryl, non-established.

Now, for the smut, I was thinking sub/dom dynamics, experienced Daryl‐virgin reader, gentle aftercare. Reader is inexperienced in real life but has extended knowledge on the subject because she is a huge fan of spicy novels. Daryl secretly brings her said novels (and also secretly reads them). Any season is cool with me. 🥰

Of course, you can leave out or totally reject the request if something makes you uncomfortable. It's completely understandable. ❤️

Thank you so much for your time!🥰

Down bad

Summary- you met Daryl back at Atlanta, when flirting, something expected between you both happen

theme- smut (minors do not interact! 18+!!)

warnings- smut, blowjob, oral (male receiving), p in v, creampie, cussing, if there's more please Imk!!

You met Daryl back in Atlanta after the world basically ended, as you were on a run there was a massive herd of walkers, and this muscular guy with a crossbow and dirty blonde hair. You needed a group, you were out alone actually, staying at abandoned places for the night. You saved him, getting him quickly away from the herd into a store.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked the man.

“Im okay.” Said the man

“Okay we need-“

He suddenly raised his crossbow at you causing you to put your hands up.

“How many walkers have you killed”

“10” you said back

“How many people have you killed”

“2”

“Why?”

“They were my parents”

He suddenly looked down as if he started to feel sympathy. He gave you a nod and held his hand out gesturing to shake it.

“Names’ Daryl”

“Y/n”

Daryl introduced you to his camp, causing you to meet friendly people.

Later on, you guys started to grow closer. It went to the point where you guys even shared a cell, but you guys didn’t share a bed, you took top bunk and he took bottom. Since you had beautiful long hair, you were surprised Daryl knew how to Baird before the apocalypse. There would be times at night where he would braid your hair when the both of you got bored. Daryl would go on runs a lot and get you novels, which included a bunch of smut and spiciness. You were a virgin yourself, but the books he got you allowed to understand what sex was. You were a major fan of smut.

You were always teased by Beth about how you two always acted towards each other. When she’d crack a joke out loud, the group when hum in agreement. They knew too had it had for each other. But you and  Daryl never always discussed your guys’ feelings.

As you two got to Alexandria, you guys decided to share a house, he always said he wanted to sleep on the couch instead of bed.

Spencer and Glenn came back from a run one day, Spencer was injured and needed help. Denise offered but you said you wanted to do it instead. You were a medical student, you knew a lot of things and you’ve helped a lot of people in the group with injuries. You went to medical school in Greece (where you came from).

As you were tending Spencer’s injures. He just sat there, staring. At you in your beautiful dress.

“Like what you see?” You asked jokingly 

“Maybe I do” he replied as he put his hand on your arm. Causing you to smile and blush. You decided to make a flirty joke.

“Maybe you can see better later” then you winked. 

You were doing this downstairs of your and Daryl’s shared house, complete forgetting Daryl was home. As he sat on the staris watching, biting his thumb like he always does.

Spencer cupped your face with one of his hands smirking at you

“You’re cute” you said in a flirty tone. You were known for being positive, and always speaking the truth, doing that right now.

Daryl suddenly got up quickly and stomped away out of sight, his stomping causing you to jump and confused. 

Later when Spencer left you were getting ready for bed, then you suddenly felt someone grab your waist and spin you around, it being Daryl. 

“What the hell was that?!” He yelled and growled into your face.

“What was what??” You said confused.

“That nasty fuckin’ flirting with Spencer! If yer gonna get yer virginity taken by Spencer make it happen anywhere but here!” He yelled 

“Daryl all I did was flirt with him! Quit being like this! It’s not you!”

“Gosh why are you like this y/n?!”

“What do you-“

You were cut off by a kiss, you eyes widen, taking you a moment to process what the heck was happening. You started slowly kissing back, he picked you up by the underside of your thighs and carried you into the room, he tossed you onto the bed and gave you a look “are you sure you want this” type of look, you nodded, he started to unbuckle his pants and your eyes widen

“Daryl I’m a virgin”

“Time to get that taken away” he growled, he grabbed you by the head and sat you to your knees, he began to pull his pants down, his ready hard cock pulling out, your eyes widen in shock, Jesus it was huge.

He grabbed it and being to stroke it.

“You’ve read smut, just put it in yer mouth and suck it”

“Dar-“

“Do it.”

You gave him a nod and grabbed it, you tried the best you can to put it into your mouth due to his size. That’s when you licked his tip, swirling your tounge around it. He let out a groan causing you to moan and whine. 

“Fuckkk y/n..”

He grabbed your face and shoved it right in, causing you to have tears running down your face and quickly take it out your mouth.

“Nope keep going.”

He did it again but didn’t shove it in like last time, you tried the best you can, Daryl letting out a mix of groans and whimpers.

“Get up” he demanded , you did so, he grabbed you by the waist and spun you around and pushed you onto the bed

“Get into doggy style.”

“Okay..”

You got on all fours onto the bed, he pulled your pants down, then your underwear.

“God your so fuckin’ wet”

He grabbed his cock and positioned it with your hole, he grabbed your hips to position them too, lining them up. 

“Ya ready? This may hurt”

“I’m ready…”

That’s when he went into your slowly causing him to let out a groan and you let out a scream. He quickly pulled out and apologized 

“Shit I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“Daryl… keep going please”

“Are ya sure?”

“Please”

He went back then, your cunt tightly squeezing his massive cock, your wetness made it easier for him to fit inside of you, the both of you let out a bunch of moans and groans, he thrusted back and forth burying himself balls deep inside you each thrust. You were gripping to the sheets and the pillow tightly.

“I’m gonna cum” he said to you

“Do it” 

He was deep inside you as ropes of his cum and thick warm seed went everywhere into you, you screamed his name, it felt so warm and good. He pulled out as his cum oozed and dripped out of you.

He helped clean you up and kissed your forehead. 

“Ya okay? I’m sorry if I hurt ya”

“Daryl…. Dixon… that… was… amazing…” you said between pants 

As you two calmed down, you both out your clothes back on, he let you cuddle with him to help you get your breathing back to normal, he grabbed something from his bag, pulling out a book named “the ritual: A dark college romance” (plz no copy right) you gasped and snatched the book.

“Daryl I love you thank you so much!” 

you began to peck his face with kisses as he chuckled.

He caressed your hair.

“Braid?”

“Braid.”

(Im a virgin forgive me if I did anything wrong or did anything wrong with the request! Sorry for my bad writing,,,)

[arlechinav-blog]

Mediterranean Trance Drumming

(Pictured: Yours Truly posing with a selection of drums that I use for trancework.)

Trance drumming is a completely separate skill from performance drumming. Knowing how to drum and having the muscle memory to carry a rhythm is just the beginning. The type of drum you use makes a difference and the drum used for most Mediterranean trancework is a sort of frame drum--specifically a headed tambourine type of instrument. Every culture has their own version of this instrument which is why I say tambourine-like. The secondary percussion instrument used is a large, barrel-like double sided stick drum. Again, each culture involved has their own name for these.

When it comes to picking your frame drum, aim for something between 12" and 18". My preference is for a 16" drum. The larger the drum, the slower it moves but the deeper the sound. The smaller the drum, the faster you can go with it and the lighter it will weigh but the sound will also become higher. Whether the drum has a synthetic head or natural head it will not affect the efficacy of the trance but it will impact how much skin you can potentially lose while doing this. A natural goatskin or fishskin headed drum will take the skin off your hand if you play it long enough. It is very efficient at it.

Most trance drummers who play in this style have spent time developing calluses to protect their hands and even then a lot of us end up just wrapping our striking hand in a bandana or handkerchief to save our skin. I recommend that those who are new to this style of drumming use a synthetic head and wait until they have built up some calluses before trying their luck with a natural head. On particularly humid days, I have had my calluses rip off completely and it only takes a few moments beyond that before blood starts running. We call it a drum kiss and it is supposed to be good luck in certain types of trance sessions--not all though. Take care of your hands if you can, there is no need to get juicy over this. But if it should happen, recognize that it is bad form to stop drumming before the current piece has ended. You will have to wait until the proper stopping point and then switch out with someone else if you want to take care of your hand. Plan accordingly.

Another thing to consider when it comes to picking your drum is what kind of music you will play. Serious topics call for the low voice, love and most things in life will call for the high voice. Occasionally you will get to use a medium voice for things that are difficult to place in one category or another. Most will be low or high. The bigger the drum, the deeper the sound. In my aesthetic opinion, deep sounds compliment a deep voice. The size of your drum is mostly up to you and occasional bits of peer pressure from the Aunties/Uncles and ancestors.

Which brings me to my next point. The vast majority of traditional active trancework in the Med is sung. It is not just drums. The lyrical components are what I like to call "load bearing." A load bearing practice is something that you cannot cut out or change without setting off a ripple effect that will impact how your trancework functions on a fundamental level. Lyrics are one of the big 3 defining techniques of Mediterranean trancework in the form of legomena--things recited. These are trigger words embedded within the lyrics that contain hypnotic reminders to perform specific actions. If your trancework does not involve lyrics, you won't get beyond basic trance. Contemporary practices may allow for it but not traditional ones.

(Pictured: A bendir from the Maghreb. The metal on this drum is hidden on the inside of it in the form of 1 to 3 wires running along the back. It is very snappy and it is fun to spin on your thumb. You can listen to it here.)

Most ritual drums have metal somewhere on them and if there is none on the drums used by the other musicians, the lead musician will still wield some kind of metal instrument. This can be something as simple as a sistrum or handheld cymbals. Iron is the best and most traditional metal but all metals have the properties to pull it off. Ringing metal against metal is used to compel and control spirits in a ritual context. Even if the ritual does not directly interact with spirits, trancework itself is a journey through the spiritworld and it is expected that spirits are ever present. The metal drives away the malicious ones or compels them to dance--depending on how it is used and the type of ritual. The idea of a trance ritual done without metal ringing somewhere makes me wrinkle up my nose as if I smelled something really gross. It is spiritualy unhygienic.

The three main types of drum designs that I see are the tambourine types (like a tammorra), the snare types (like a bendir), and the chain types (like a daf).

(Pictured: Persian Daf. Get a group of these together and it literally sounds like an army marching down on you. A very beautiful army. Listen to a performance of it here.)

(Pictured: Tammorra Napoletana. This is the best drum to use for Hellenic style trancework because it was designed to compliment Hellenic style trancework. You can listen to it here.)

They each have traditional ways that they are played so whatever you pick, you would do best to study that style directly to get started. That will also narrow down what kind of music you play with it and what kind of songs you may want to use. I can and do play all of them but my favorite is the tammorra so I am going to focus on that one for the rest of this post. Once you know how to play one of these drums, you can improvise and play around with different styles.

If you want to learn more about trance percussion, give this a read.

Enough Preamble! Let's get to the "how to" bit!

When I teach Mediterranean trance drumming, I use a system of glyphs as a mnemonic device to remind students of the rhythm visually. These are the core glyphs that I use. The top line relates to where on the drum you are striking. The middle and last line relate to how you move your hand when striking.

Doum = Center (played with the dominant hand)

Tek = Side (played with the dominant hand)

Ka = Top or Bottom (played with the off hand)

Wrist Snap = Twist the drum in your off hand and basically high five the drum with your dominant hand, furthest point from you and then closest to you.

RTC = Rolling Triplet Center. Lots of methods for making a rolling triplet so there are other options. Strike with the flat length of your thumb, then do the same with the side of your index finger, then flip your hand around and chop the drum with the side of your pinkie finger. Repeat over and over very fast. Way faster than what you might be thinking.

RTS = Rolling Triplet Side. Same as above but instead of doing it in the center/ doum zone of the drum, do it to the side in the tek zone. This is a lighter sound and you can weave back and forth between center and side to create your rhythms.

Bounce = Using the meat of the hand just below your thumb, reach to the furthest side of your drum and bounce that part of your hand across it twice, pulling your hand towards you and then slap the tek zone with your fingers. This is also done pretty fast.

Slap Tek = Drop the drum into your open dominant palm (don't let go!) then quickly bring the drum back upright and give it a tek slap.

Double = Strike the drum quickly with your thumb then pinkie or pinkie then thumb (order is not important) in the tek zone.

This set of striking patterns works to create a system of double and triple beats that you can then weave together to create your trance rhythm. Most Mediterranean frame drums are done in a single handed style. There are some exceptions like the daf or riqq playing styles. The classical Hellenic way of doing it was a single handed style though so that is what I largely focus on. It depends on the song I am using and the type of ritual I am doing though.

One hand to smack em all!

If you want to get the same sounds out of a different type of drum or using a different striking style, you are in for a wacky time. Best of luck on that.

This is what a drum sequence looks like using my little glyphs. Well, these are 3 different common rhythms. These rhythms are used all over the Med, no one culture owns them exclusively but each culture has their own way of expressing them and their own terms for them. I was working with a Greek crowd when I made this illustration so those are the terms that ended up on it. The size of the glyph tells you when a strike is emphasized (louder) or de-emphasized (normal or quieter). The distance between each glyph tells you how close each strike is to the next one. A space implies a rest beat while no space implies no rest.

Here is a fun one using the rolling triplets. There are literally hundreds of Dionysian rhythms but they all weave around something like this, which is why this is the one I teach first. This would be a tarantella rhythm.

And this is a tammurriata rhythm. All of this is one repeating rhythm. It is a whole process. There are loads of different rhythms for tammurriata as well.

I made a little tutorial for these over a decade ago. The camera is a bit blury but the material is still helpful.

Rolling Triplet Practice

Double and Triple Strikes Part I

Double and Triple Strikes Part II

Now that we have gone over how to drum and make the right sounds we can get into what you need to know to make trance music specifically. This is written for lead musicians. Musicians who are in a support position can just trance out while playing. They don't have to do any of this fun stuff. The lead musician is the one who has to remain conscious and react to what is going on around them. To avoid repeating myself and making this even longer, check out my write up on what a lead musician is responsible for.

The only way to learn how to drum for the entranced is to drum for the entranced. Ideally under the direction of someone who already knows how. It takes years of active study and experience to learn how to read the body language of the entranced so that you can respond to it with what they need.

Most trance rituals will call for only a handful of songs but it depends on how long you will be trancing and how many people you have to lead through it. An experienced dancer can get in and out of an altered state in about 6-10 minutes but newer folks can take up to 25 minutes. That is per person/ per song. I don't let the newer folks go over 25 minutes because we do need to keep it running along smoothly. The longer you go with someone who doesn't know what they are doing, the greater the chances of them injuring themselves.

You want to see them drop into a relaxed floppy/bouncy body state and stay in a relaxed and floppy/bouncy body state. Only the most essential muscles should be engaged, everything else is at rest (unless you are doing spiritwork). If you see the dancer go rigid or wake even slightly and then go back into a floppy/bouncy state, recognize that they are going to give themselves whiplash and will be very sore tomorrow. Your goal is to keep them plugged in and their body flowing from start to finish. If you see it happen three times, slow down the music to a crawl and bring them back to a waking state. The monitor should then guide them away from the rug/active trance space and let someone else have a go.

To keep a dancer in an altered state you have to make the music interesting. There are heavy hitting rhythms that you can use to get them hooked and then you can build on those, making them more elaborate, speeding it up and slowing it down slightly. Keep building towards a crescendo. Ideally they will follow the sound and react accordingly the whole way through. When the dance and music have reached their apex, they will drop on their own into a PTFO (pass the eff out). This is a dramatic collapse that signifies that they are done.

At that point you immediately drop the rhythm into something so slow that it cannot reasonaly be danced to. You do not want them to get back up and dance again. Just keep the rug vibe calm while the monitor takes care of them and once they are off the rug you can begin again for someone else.

If you are singing, the dancer may respond to certain lyrics more than others. Observe closely and feel free to repeat those lyrics as much as you want. You do not have to sing your verses in their proper wakeful order once you have made your first full pass on the trance song you are singing. Do it properly once to set a baseline and then do as you need to in the moment to keep that dancer moving.

If the dancer's movements and energy start to plateau, you can either kick it up a notch or you can switch to a different song that uses the same rhythm. Group your songs together by rhythm so that you can more easily craft medleys for this. If you make no changes to the soundscape, this isn't going to go anywhere productive. They can go forever at a medium pace with no PTFO in sight. Always be chasing that PTFO.

Any further advice I could give on this topic would depend on the type of ritual you want to do so I am going to end it here. If there is an interest in how to drum for specific types of rituals, let me know in the comments. Good luck out there.

[qualcosadelgenere]

Considering the senders question about the flirty players i cans see red matador having flirty players who flirt with the female player but the kingdom??? I can’t really see idk why can you elaborate on who?

Oh, hey, sure! (Also, thank you for your ask 🫶)

I want to start by saying something that is probably obvious to most, yet still worth being mentioned.

Individuals from the same country are not all the same, even though some countries have a stereotypical reputation (whether accurate or not) for being particularly open and flirtatious in manners.

Usually, when someone thinks of such a stereotype, the countries that come to mind are those of Latin or Mediterranean heritage (according to the internet). Others are known for being very open and welcoming but more conservative in nature and, therefore, less publicly flirty, such as Middle Eastern countries. Others flirt in a one-of-a-kind manner that gets lost in translation. It depends.

For Red Matador, I immediately thought about Isaac, whose description straight-up mentions his attitude towards ladies.

"An opportunist on and off the field. If he sees a beautiful girl, he'll try to charm her."

Or also Rafael, whose description mentions what kind of interactions he usually has with girls.

"He's a great flamenco dancer. Girls are lining up for a chance to dance with him."

In general, as Red Matador comes from Spain, I imagine the cultural impact would make them more direct and bold when compared to other teams.

When it comes to the Kingdom, I totally get what you mean. Some players, like, for example, Carlos and Roniejo, seem very composed and reserved. Plus, the issues they were dealing with (Garshield) overshadowed their true personalities a bit, in my opinion.

But, then again, Brazil is very famous for being a very bold and direct country, where people are sometimes even described as "aggressive" in their way of flirting. (Don't quote me on that, lol.)

So, after all, it all comes down to personal characterization, how you see the characters, and what traits you associate with them.

For a lot of FFI players, we don't really have much canon material to work with, aside from their descriptions, the rare anime/game display of personality and visually conveyed traits (for example, one could visually assume that Adel's upturned collar carries a certain degree of rebellion or confidence, or that sharper angles as opposed to rounder, softer lines, hint at a more feisty(??) personality.)

In my head, for example, Borboleta is one of those playfully flirty and highly social, guys. Quite ironically, a social butterfly. He's overtly friendly and touchy with everyone and rarely gets shy or uncomfortable around people.

Therefore, I can see him being a bit cheeky around girls. Similar thing goes for Presa, Gato, and Falcão.

That's only the way I see him. If another person were to look at him, they would likely get a different impression, notice different traits, and end up with a different character.

That's why I think it's kinda cool when the majority of a fandom spontaneously agrees on the traits of a non-characterized character. It means that whoever designed them did a great job of conveying certain things.👏

[the-arcane-booty]

I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole of studying the real-life influences that went into the creation/worldbuilding of Nevarra.

For example: Antiva is based off of Italian and Mediterranean influences, Tevinter has Roman Empire vibes, and Orlais has a lot of commonalities with France.

I’m not saying that it these influences have to be 1:1, but I’m a huge anthropology/folklore nerd and it’s fun for my brain to dig deeper into stuff like this. It supports that fantasy is not just an escapist genre, but a method of deeper exploration of the world we already live in. More beneath the cut:

Nevarra is a tricky one. My initial inclinations were to lean toward ancient Egypt as its primary influence. Mostly their reverence for the dead is one that is very tangible. The mages work with corpses and cadavers, all while tending to tombs and cemeteries. A majority of Thedas deal with the concept of death in a spiritual manner, rather than a physical one, due to the nature of Andrastean beliefs.

The food culture is also described to be inspired by North African cuisine. Lots of flat breads, yogurts, and veggies are dominant in their dishes. It’s common for Nevarrans to be vegetarian. The landscape is also implied to be fertile with agriculture. Such connections are similar to that of societies along the Nile river. Beetles are also highly respected as a symbol. Like scarabs, people collect the wings and display them as decor.

While the Egyptian symbolism and archetypes surrounding death may play a big role in the cultural practices, there’s a few things that are also to Central European/Balkan culture. Like the concept of royalty/nobility more closely resembles the political structure of the Austrian empire. There’s mentions of dukes and duchesses being involved in cultural celebrations.

The artistry is also highly appreciated in Nevarran culture. There are so many artisans involved in making jewelry for grave dowries. There’s expert landscapers tending to beautiful memorial gardens. Sculptors that create magnificent statues to honor the stories of the dead. Nevarran art may seem morbid, but brings the subjects of darkness to light. This is a rather gothic approach to artistic expression and appreciation.

I like to think that Mourn Watch! Rook is artistically inclined as well. Even if it is in a way that is seen as dark or morbid.

ANYWAY I’ll probably ramble more about this later but I am interested in how the cultures mix to create a whole new world :3

[sweetiebriar]

I really shouldn’t get involved in this debate because, first, it's utterly absurd and immature, and second, it will likely earn me a few enemies and drag me into conflicts, which I despise more than anything… Yet, I can’t stay silent. My anger is boiling over because creators and writers like myself are being bullied by so-called fans with narrow-minded perspectives, forcing us to bow down to politically correct foolishness just to be able to continue our work in peace.

¡Swearwords Alert!

What the fucking, shitty, bloody heck is wrong with these people?! This is a work of fiction—a story set in a fantasy, medieval Slavic world. The rules of the modern, real world do not apply here. Why on earth is representation being demanded in a context where it makes no sense?

¡Swearwords Alert End!

For those who’ve wisely avoided this whole debacle—and I congratulate you, keep doing so in the future if possible, let me fill you in: our dear RC team, along with the author of "The Thunderstorm Saga," Alexander D., were recently pressured (and in some cases harassed) into changing the main character sprites, which originally consisted of various elven races—forest, moon, and dark elves—into human representations (Asian, Caucasian, African, Latin, etc.).

AS: I didn’t get involved in the uproar about Volot’s skin tone in "And The Haze Will Take Us" being a player choice, because frankly, it was ridiculous for a portion of the community to react negatively, as if RC’s decision was some kind of racist move. Let me remind you, we’ve had this kind of choice before, like in "Vying For Versailles" with King Louis, and no one complained. Also, if you weren’t aware, book covers are often altered in their Russian versions. A main character who is Black or Brown in the American/European editions is frequently depicted as white in the Russian versions, except in rare cases where the character’s ethnicity is central to the story, like in "Garden of Eden" or the "Kalis". This change is due to the narrow-mindedness of the Russian community, and RC makes these changes to avoid backlash from its largest player base. Perhaps the decision to change Volot's skin was made with the Russian market in mind, and they decided to keep it consistent for all players. But frankly, I don’t care, and I don’t want to know.

Now, back to the main issue:

I’ve been a writer for most of my life, and I cannot stress this enough: a writer’s vision is theirs and theirs alone. While we might choose to revise certain aspects of our stories or find new ways to tell them, the opinions of readers and fans should never dictate those decisions. We are the creators of the content you enjoy. You read our work because you appreciate our vision. If we start crafting stories the way you want, it ceases to be our vision, and the magic is lost. Instead of venturing into the unknown, the story becomes a mundane reflection of everyday life. People read books to escape reality, not to mirror it.

Frankly, I find the elven races in this story quite representative, if you ask me—certainly more so than in LOTR (And remember the backlash about the Black dwarf queen? How ironic…).

- Forest Elves One have very fair skin, which can be linked to Caucasians. The Forest Elves Two can be more compared to Mediterranean people.

- Moon Elves One & Two, with their warm, brownish skin, can be connected to Hispanic or Latin people.

- Dark Elves, as you might expect, are associated with people of African descent, with group One being darker than group Two.

Sure, not every community is represented here—where are the Asians, the Eastern Europeans, the Arabs, Indians, and Indigenous peoples? There are more than just three skin tones, after all.

But this debate is utterly ridiculous. This is a work of fiction set in a fantasy realm. These characters are elves, not humans, and they don’t need to represent human diversity. The vast majority of players enjoyed the story as it was, and do you know why? Because they chose their main character based on who they found most appealing, not because the character resembled them. Contrary to what some believe, representation isn’t always necessary in fiction. Yes, there were fewer Black and brown-skinned characters in the past due to racism and segregation, but today, in a diverse and cosmopolitan world, young writers incorporate their modern perspectives into their work, and people generally don’t complain about representation anymore. So stop making a fuss over something that was never an issue to begin with. Let writers do their work. Criticising elves for not being "human enough" is not constructive; it’s just nonsense. And if you want to argue with me over this, don’t bother. I refuse to debate anyone over a fictional world, and especially over a game.

[rooksamoris]

I just read your thoughts about Scarabia and Leona's arc development in game, and I got very interested.

There's very little info on Arabian culture online, at least that I've seen, and also African. A thing that makes me very curious is about their mythologies, folklore, and also music. We know a lot about food, since it's something so universal, but the rest is hard to get info on, unless it gets popularized or romanticized by someone else.

The scarabia arc is one of my favorites for a reason, and that is because I'm very sympathetic with Jamil, and very sad how his and Kalim's story together got so "twisted" so fast (ehe). Honestly there are so many layers to it that it would take many many chapters, and events, to close the situation. But I think it's good they left the future open like that, since it's something that can't be fixed overnight.

And also, *gets down* PLS PLS PLS PLS 🙏 I love the fluffy fics, are you going to also add Bolllywood songs? They are so good seriously it's so dancing and fun! I love Jamil so much and I MELTED with the headcanon short fic where we are taking care of him. I wanna hold his precious handsome face and just kiss it all over! He is so cute I will go FERAL-

hey qamar 💕 this was a pleasure to read! honestly, i feel like both the scarabia and savannaclaw chapters were too short? of course, we were introduced to the themes and then the whole conflict—resolution mountain for stories, however i just feel like they could have done more with the both of them.

also, i think the reason why the southwest-asian and african themes aren’t covered is because the source material is literally disney films 💀 like we get a warning before rewatching aladdin since they just now realized it was kind of racist (still a major part of my childhood though 😭 “a whole new world” in arabic is delicious). based on how yana has written other characters that are meant to be from south asia, there’s a big chance it would have been disappointing anyways.

plus, with scarabia in particular, there’s too many cultures trying to be represented due to how colonizers deemed all of the countries to be the same thing in different fonts 💀 you’d never confuse a nepali with an omani, but winston churchill sure did not care.

the original aladdin movie was meant to take place in baghdad, a city in iraq, but due to political conflicts at the time (george bush a war criminal regardless of saddam hussein’s crimes. the usa literally gave saddam weapons to kill kurds and then turned around and invaded when he wasn’t convenient anymore 💀). baghdad became agrabah—but the culture is still an amalgamation of west asian, south asian, north african, and like eurasian/turkish culture. im sure they’ve got stuff from central asia too 😭

the issue with this is that from ethnic group to ethnic group/country to country, the culture varies a lot. yemenis and palestinians are both arabs, but our cultures are vastly different, with yemenis having more eastern african influences and palestinians having mediterranean influences. i personally headcanon the scarabia duo as arab, but honestly, they could be from anywhere. for all we know, kalim is afghan and jamil is tunisian—it’s all up in the air due to the original source material. but i digress!! i rambled a lot 😭

ON THE BOLLYWOOD NOTE! omg this brought so many good memories back. we used to watch bollywood films with shitty arabic dubs 🥹 i miss those days. i love that idea and ive always wanted to write bollywood inspired fics, like based on the crazy and unrealistic romantic moments in bollywood. it’s just so much fun lmao. honestly, i think that’s a great idea especially when so many bollywood songs just lead the listener through a story anyways. im so glad you enjoy my fics!!! that’s very sweet 💕 have a great day, qamar, and take care of yourself

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Any time someone condemns the actions of Israel killing children you accuse them of hating Jews. That only makes sense if you think killing children is inherently a part of Judaism.

Hoo boy, you are very dumb, for real.

Okay, I'm going to explain this to you even though you either, already know it and you're just pretending not to because that's the only way you can avoid having to admit how wrong you are, or you're too stupid to grasp basic English conversation. So I know it's pointless and I know you're still not going to get it. But here we go anyway.

Israel is a majority Jewish country. Anti-semitism, or hatred of Jews if that's too big a word for you, is often dressed up in "criticism" of Israel. Since October 7th, a lot of people who claimed to not be anti-semites because they were only "criticizing" Israel have been loudly celebrating an attack where Hamas terrorists raped, murdered, and kidnapped people who were mostly Israeli Jews. They have taken up chants of "Globalize the Intifada" (The Intifada is a Palestinian movement to eliminate Israel and all the Jews in it, so this is a call for the global elimination of all Jews) and "From the river to the sea" (which is a call for the destruction of Israel and all the Jews in it so "Palestinians", which are not a real cultural or ethnic group by the by, can occupy all the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea). Since these people are cheering a brutal attack on Jews, and supporting the destruction of the only majority Jewish state in the world along with the murder of every Jew who lives there, and calling for the global extermination of the Jewish race, they are anti-semites. (Remember that means they hate Jews).

Following along so far?

Probably not, but let's continue anyway.

Hamas is a terrorist organization. In 2007 it was elected into power. Shortly after, it won a civil war to stay in power. That makes it the ruling power in what's called the self-governing territory of Gaza. That ruling power sent soldiers into Israel, a legitimate nation recognized as such by most of the world, and attacked its citizens as well as the citizens of other countries. Israel responded by declaring war. Now, if this had happened with any other nation in the world, there would be very little debate about Israel's justification in defending itself and the abhorrent nature of Gaza's attack. But since Israel is a mostly Jewish state, that's not what's going on. Western leftists are gleefully showing their hatred of Jews by demanding Israel not strike back and not defend itself and instead just sit there and let themselves be destroyed.

Now, by any sane standard, Israel would be justified in turning the entirety of Gaza into molten slag. Remember, the 10/7 attacks were carried out by the ruling power that was originally voted into that position of power. When the terrorists returned from their attack, where they raped and/or murdered some 1,200 people, many of them children, the citizens of Gaza celebrated. They cheered as Hamas terrorists led naked hostages who were bleeding from their vaginas from being brutally gang raped through the streets. They cheered as their children surrounded Jewish children who had been kidnapped and taunted them and threw rocks at them. Ever since Israel freed Gaza and allowed them to govern themselves, Gaza has supported terrorists who want to kill every Jew in Israel. But Israel has no interest in destroying Gaza completely. They just want to wipe out Hamas and let the Gazans go back to governing themselves. They even went so far as to let the enemy know where they were going to attack so civilians could evacuate.

And what did Hamas do in response?

They refused to allow anyone to leave.

Because Hamas has a long history of hiding behind Gazan civilians. They build their terrorist bases under schools, hospitals, and mosques specifically so Israel would have to choose between attacking those locations or allowing Hamas to attack them with impunity. They make sure civilians are in the path of every Israeli bomb because they believe that Gaza is a "nation of martyrs" and they know that every dead Gazan civilian is a prop they can show to the largely Jew hating western media as "proof" that Israel is some kind of evil, genocidal country. They want that perception to flourish worldwide so, when they do finally manage to kill every Jew in Israel, they can say it was justified. They were just fighting back against their oppressors. They were decolonizing. (Ignoring the fact that the Arabs were the ones who colonized the Jewish land and then began exterminating all the Jews that still lived there, or who fled to live in other lands, to the point where there are almost no Jews left anywhere in the Middle East except in Israel)

So when people ignore the mountains and mountains of proof that Hamas are the ones responsible for the civilian deaths in Gaza, because their strategy relies on dead children and dead civilians, because they do everything in their power to make sure children are between them and Israeli bombs and bullets, they are doing so knowing that they're giving support to a terrorist group that wants to murder all the Jews in Israel. They are showing their hatred of the Jewish people by promoting lies and joining the cries for "global Intifada". So yes, when people blame Israel for the dead children that Hamas killed by forcing them into the line of fire during a war, they are doing it because they hate Jews.

And if you think calling out that hatred means anyone thinks killing children is a part of Judaism, then you're either stupid, or you hate Jews too.

[chanaleah]

an personal narrative speech on israel i wrote for school

note that this was written for an audience who mostly doesn't know anything about Israel.

essay below if the images are not working for you/you have a screen reader

I was at Hebrew School, my legs against the cold plastic chair of the over-air conditioned synagogue basement, and I was bored. My eyes fell over the posters on the wall — the Rambam’s ladder of Tzedakah, common Hebrew words, and a large map, almost my size, of Israel.

I had looked at this map so many times, so many days. But I had never really looked at it. My eyes traced the coastline … Ashkelon, Ashdod, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Akko. In the center, Jerusalem. At the bottom, Eilat. And at the very top, the little tip wedged between Lebanon and the Golan, Kiryat Shmona. 

Israel is a small country, about the size of New Jersey, located in the Middle East. It borders the Mediterranean Sea and is home to almost 10 million people. It is the only country with a Jewish majority, but it also has large Arab and Druze minorities. Many holy sites for the main three Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — are located in Israel.

As a kid growing up in the Jewish community, Israel was a common topic of conversation. We had Israelis come and visit us, a lot of us had family there, and most people we knew had visited Israel. We learned the Hebrew words for things like ice cream (glidah) and dog (kelev). We used the Hebrew pronunciation of words like hummus (huh-miss), which we said houmous (choo-moose).

We celebrated the new year of the trees in January (which doesn’t really make any sense in [redacted]) and we prayed for rain during services.

Really, whether or not we said it, we knew, we could feel, that everything we did… our prayers, our traditions, all traced back to Israel.

But here’s the weird thing… I’ve never been to Israel. I’ve never even really been close to Israel. I’ve never swum at the beach in Tel Aviv, never walked the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, never felt the heat bearing down on me as I climbed Masada. I’ve never placed a folded up prayer in the Western Wall, never smelled the aromas of spices and herbs at a shuk, never read the ancient names on the graves at the Mount of Olives. And even though I’ve never stood on the grounds my ancestors stood on, put my hands where they did, and breathed the air they breathed, I can still feel these places. They’re in my DNA… literally. 

The traditions of the Jewish community connect me to my roots. When the kingdom of Judah, where Jews are from, located in modern day Israel, was taken over by the Romans, the Jews were forced out of our homeland, and we became dispersed throughout the word. As Rudy Rochman, an Israeli activist, says, Judaism “is a portable suitcase of a native people's identity that was created to preserve who they were after their forceful displacement from… Israel.” Every Jew throughout the world, no matter where we are; in the United States, Israel, or France, continues to carry this suitcase that connects us back to where we came from.

Today, when I celebrate Jewish holidays, I know there are people halfway around the world doing the same things I’m doing. They sing the same prayers, eat the same foods, and participate in the same traditions. They are all drawing from a suitcase that looks a lot like mine.

Today, about half of the world’s Jews live in the United States, and about half live in Israel. My traditions and culture connect me to all Jews, but my traditions also tie me to that land. I know that if I wanted to, or if I needed to, I could move to Israel. I could become a part of that country — the country I already love so much. 

But today, there are a lot of challenges with loving Israel — at least in the sense of the modern nation state. Currently, Israel is locked in a conflict with Palestine — a conflict you’ve probably heard about in the news — that has been going on for over a century. Today, neither Israel nor Palestine are completely innocent or guilty in this conflict. Israel, as much as I love it and feel connected to it, has done a lot of things I disagree with. And it’s hard for me to love Israel when I constantly see things in the news that make me facepalm, and when I know that the Israeli government is doing things I don’t agree with.

I love Israel. But love is complicated. It’s not black and white. I love Israel as my homeland, the place that birthed my people. And that love is paradoxical. I accept it as it is now, and I want it to get better. 

But now that I think about it, I realize that love means caring enough for something that you’re willing to work for it. Love means believing that peace, and a better future, is possible. Love means that a better way will be found. Because you don’t just walk away from something you love when it doesn’t meet your expectations.

So someday, I will go to Israel, and when I swim at the beach in Tel Aviv, walk the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, and feel the heat bearing down on me as I climb Masada — I’m not going to be thinking about news headlines or military operations. I’m not going to be thinking about disappointment and failures. I’m going to be thinking about the three thousand years of history and tradition that led me back to the land of my ancestors.