#Let the mall backdrop be a hint

[wandashousewife]

“Dear Child.” (Chapter Four)

Pairing — Wanda x Reader

Synopsis — Your father was notorious for going on failed tinder dates for years after your mother had left for her own reasons which she never told you. You never actually thought your father had a chance in the vast sea of relationships until you found out that one of his friends knew a European woman a couple years older than you who wanted to marry him. Strange.

Warnings — Failure dad, absent mother

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

As the hours stretched into the evening, the adventures with your friends continued unabated, each moment infused with the vibrant energy of youthful exuberance and boundless possibility. From the bustling corridors of the mall to the neon-lit confines of fast food joints, and finally to the serene expanse of the beach, the journey unfolded like a tapestry woven from the threads of shared laughter and cherished memories.

Despite the chill in the air, the allure of the bioluminescent lights dancing upon the ocean's surface proved irresistible, casting a magical spell over the tranquil night. Against the backdrop of the shimmering waves, the world seemed to take on an otherworldly charm, enveloping you in a cocoon of wonder and awe.

Sitting in a blanket under the starry night, you and your friends enjoyed each other's company. It was a chill night, one you'd expect for the beginning of winter. But you barely registered it, focusing more on your own thoughts. The sound of waves crashing against the shore could be heard in the distance, a soft background melody. And despite the darkness, you could make out the silhouettes of your friends as they laughed and chatted, their voices carrying on the wind.

You had been wondering how Wanda was doing so you decided to go home early. The cold mist in the air made your face feel a bit prickly as you walked back home under the night sky. The sounds of laughter and the waves rolling onto shore seemed to get louder the further you traveled.

When you got home, however, it was eerily quiet. You wondered if everyone was asleep but decided to check the living room. That's when you saw Wanda sitting in front of the TV, in her pajamas and wrapped in your hoodie.

“Hey Wands,” You smiled. She had always hated that nickname, thinking it as something childish, but that’s why you loved using it!

A bright smile crosses her lips, her cheeks turning a soft rosy pink. She seems a bit embarrassed by the nickname, but she forces herself to laugh it off. “Hi.” She turns away, her hands fidgeting idly with her sleeves. There was a brief, awkward silence before she breaks the ice. “I… did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, we went to a lot of places. But you wouldn’t know any of them since you’re such an old woman.” She lets out a quiet laugh at your teasing. “I might be an old woman, but at least my back doesn’t hurt from sitting on these chairs like someone’s mother.” She turns to face you and smiles, her gaze focused entirely on your form. The two of you stare at each other in silence, a hint of playful teasing in the air.

Wanda can’t help but notice how your eyes seem to linger on her in an almost flirtatious way. It’s as if you are undressing her with your eyes, taking her all in.

“What are you watching? Fifty Shades?” You teased again. She scowls, her cheeks turning a warm pink. She clears her throat and tries to laugh it off again. “No, I’d like to continue having my eyesight thank you very much.”

There’s another pause in the silence. Wanda glances away, her fingers toying with the fabric of your hoodie. She can’t help but notice how you were eyeing her up and down again. She looks away, her voice barely audible. “Do you think this… sweater does make me look like an old woman though?”

“Oh no, I was just joking. Why? Has marriage finally ruin your sense of humor?” She laughs softly, covering her lips to suppress the noise. The teasing comment felt different to her than all the others you usually make. A hint of insecurity creeps into her features. She knows you're joking, but still, she can't help but wonder if there's at least a little bit of truth in your words. Because Wanda knows that you've thought about that very thing.

She shakes her head and leans back in the chair, keeping her gaze averted. "No, not really. I was more curious to hear your honest opinion."

“Oh, okay.” There was a deafening silence once again until something had been brought up in your mind. “How is dad? I know he’s been taken certain pills, but how is he in that field?” "He's been better," Wanda whispers, letting out a breath of relief as you asked about your father instead of her. She pauses for a moment, her eyes narrowing towards your form. "He's been taking his medication more regularly, for starters, but most days he seems… distant. I know he's still adjusting to all of this, but it makes me a bit nervous for his health."

She sighs and looks away, running her hands through her hair. "But at least he's trying, I guess."

“Yeah, he said that he wants to try for another kid before he kicks the bucket.”

She freezes in her seat, her heart skipping a beat. She couldn’t help but notice how the color drained from her cheeks and a subtle flicker of irritation danced in her eyes. “What? When did he say this to you?” She bites her lip to suppress the anger, her voice tight and strained.

“Couple days ago, why? Do you not want to have a kid?” She stares at you for a few seconds before responding, her voice a mixture of resentment and hurt. “Of course I’d like to have a child one day, obviously.” She bites back the urge to yell or snap and tries to keep her cool. “But I’m still young, unlike some people I know.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, holding your hoodie tighter. She could feel the blood rushing to her face and a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

“Yeah, well you’re not the only one he’s pressuring.” You sigh, remembering his conversations with you about the future. “He wants me to settle down with some rich dude and have lots of kids.” She raises an eyebrow. "Your dad wants you to settle down?" She pauses and laughs to herself. "Of all people? That's ironic."

Wanda's tone is playful but it's hard to ignore a hint of annoyance when you mentioned your father's desire for you to get married one day. She takes a deep breath, trying to contain her jealousy.

“What what? There must be at least one person who wants to marry me!”

"Yeah, I doubt that," she laughs, teasing you playfully. "No guy is interested in marrying the nerdy virgin who can't even maintain eye contact with them."

Her comment seemed innocent, but there was a sudden shift in her expression as she seemed to realize what she said. Her hands gripped tight the sleeves of your hoodie, and her voice became softer, a hint of worry seeping in.

"I… I didn't mean that," she whispers, noticing how your eyes seemed to widen for a second. "I was jus–“ She shrugs, looking away, her hands slowly letting go of your hoodie. “Never mind.”

“Say it.” Your voice was heavy. Her throat clamps up and she can feel her emotions spiraling inside her. She glances back at you for a moment, her eyes lingering on your face. But then she abruptly looks away. "Nothing," she whispers, avoiding your gaze entirely.

You grabbed her shoulder, gripping it tightly, and stared directly into her. “Tell me.”

She flinches a bit when you grab her shoulder and her breathing hitches. Your sudden, aggressive tone catches her off guard. She hesitates for a moment before finally speaking up, taking a deep breath as she does so.

"I was only going to say that there are definitely people interested in you. I'm sure of it."

Her words felt half-assed at best, like she was telling you what should have been so obvious.

With a softened gaze and a gentle release, you allowed your hand to slip from her shoulder, settling back into your own space with a sense of quiet gratitude. "Oh, thanks..." The words, though simple, carried a weight of appreciation.

She nods slightly, her eyes still not meeting yours. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you. Wanda fidgets nervously with her fingers, trying to push away any lingering awkwardness from your sudden outburst. Her eyes dart around for a moment before finally settling on the TV screen.

“So…” She clears her throat and changes the topic, although she couldn’t help but notice how her heart was still beating out of her chest.

“Want to watch a cheesy romcom?”

[ironfist-clown-factory]

Hey everyone, Eric here!

First and first mostly I have to apologize for the near radio silence as of late. College really does that to ya. That being said I will try to get out a new Clown by week’s end!

In the meantime, here’s a fighting game mock-up I made for a fun li’l side project me and some friends are working on! I might actually be able to talk about it more later this week, so stay tuned and thank you for your patience!

[momestuck]

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim, volume 13

I think I’ve got time for another one of these. There’s so much of this game!

This time, “Of Fate, Fortune and Fashion”. Usually there’s some intro narration. This time we just get...

Yeah. I know how it goes.

This time: olive and teal. It’s been a while since we had olive. Boldir looks like a detective or spy perhaps, while Stelsa must be the ‘fashion’ mentioned in the title.

We’re wearing a hoodie!

Boldir

Our protag seems to be feeling the fatigue.

Surely not, protag. Obsessively looking for friends is like your entire character trait! (The set here is the abandoned watchtower we’ve taken as our hive.)

So we get some coffee.

It seems that the narrator has been spending time with the trolls they’ve befriended, albeit offscreen. The narrator lists other gifts they’ve received from friends.

I know that feel T_T

We get a message from someone who declares the line is not secure, but it’s worth the risk to contact us. I quite like the music, ‘Old Secret’ by James Roach, which has a nice solo violin. I really need to start referring to the BGM by title. One of them is just an ascii image of Bowsette, and I can’t wait to see who it corresponds to.

Anyway, our mysterious interlocutor says...

Well, that’s worth getting out of bed for, I think.

They invite us to meet in... the good old lesbian coffee shop down the road. How convenient for the background artists!

Ardata makes a reappearance. The narration suggests we haven’t exactly been keeping in touch with this friend.

Friendly as ever. She hasn’t been thinking much of us either. At that point, before we can spend more time with Ardata, we find a note reverse-pickpocketed into our pocket saying ‘out back’. And here’s our first, obvious choice.

I’m kind of curious to see what happens if we stay in and talk to Ardata. I’m sure it’s going to end abruptly, so let’s do that before we continue this route.

Indeed, we get mind controlled (I presume? or maybe just ordinary social pressure) into carrying Ardata’s luggage home.

OK, now let’s continue with the route.

Anime club really is a step beyond.

Behind the coffee shop is... a nice garden.

At the centre of the spiral is... Boldir. Not dressed up in her spy getup this time.

She has a really good poker face.

Apparently the reason she sat in this circle was to see if we’d ‘follow the path or trample through it’, but we did neither...

It’s a metaphor!

We ask about the information she promised. She says something else cryptic...

Before the end. Does that mean she’s aware of the impending SGrub apocalypse?

She knows about paradox space, huh. (you know the frequently shitty webcomic)

“Paradoxes aren’t relevant, by their very nature.” she tells us. Apparently the “essence of this nature” that makes them “so integral to this story”.

So this troll is basically talking to the players directly at this point, huh.

The narration briefly mentions that the protagonist is an orphan.

We ask Boldir about the whole long range pickpocketing thing. She says it’s actually quite simple, while showing that she can apparently float about at high speed. Is she a god tier or something?

Anyway, we get a chance to learn.

Always crime, all the time.

The actual pickpocketing lesson is mostly skimmed over in a few narration boxes. An interesting note comes up...

So whatever supernatural shit is afflicting our protag, Boldir is able to ward it off. She offers us coffee.

We’ll sleep when we’re dead, we joke. “If only.” says Boldir. Yeah... about that... there’s kind of a whole thing there.

When we go back into the coffee shop, Ardata is still there. She sneers at our low-caste friend.

There’s an interesting contrast now they’re side by side between the two art styles. Ardata has thick, black lines and solid blocks of colour, while, Boldir is drawn more like a contemporary anime, with  precise cel-shading, gradients in her pupils, and very thin lines.

Boldir gets under Ardata’s skin almost immediately with a dig about her subscriber count...

Ardata declares she has a new gimmick: poisoning a guest and hiding the antidote somewhere. Boldir grins and gives us a hint with her eyes...

Unfortunately, we fuck up and steal the antidote, not the poison. Boldir takes it in stride.

Then someone stabs her! Perhaps!

The troll who stabbed her books it out the door, and none of the strangers care to intervene. Worse, Boldir’s been poisoned.

And by sheer coincidence, we just nicked an antidote. The narrator wonders whether it will be the appropriate antidote for the poison...

Some treatments, such as activated charcoal, work in a way that’s relevant in a lot of poisonings (if administered quickly enough etc. etc. - I Am Not A Medic.) A large reactive surface area is a large reactive surface area, after all. To be honest, while it’s obviously important to know what someone’s taken, I get the impression that the whole like... fiction conception of a perfectly matched, very specific, instantly acting antidote probably doesn’t have a lot to do with real poisoning cases.

Anyway we administer the antidote and this happens...

Whatever that is, it cures her somehow. We hug her, which gets the lesbians’ attention.

In the commotion, the protagonist took note of the seeming ‘inevitability’ of a lot of what happened, and Boldir comments on our ‘inherent significance to this particular microcosm of causation’. Which kind of comes by virtue of being a videogame protagonist, but I guess that’s in the fiction too...

OK, now what if we don’t do crimes?

Instead, we go for a walk...

Come to think of it, the white robe she has does kind of resemble a god-tier outfit... but not of any of the god-tier colours we’ve seen in canon, to be honest. Particularly not any sneaky ones.

We start talking about like... metaphysics and specifically causality. Whether randomness is real, whether our choices matter. Fate, she says, would mean...

But she says that she doubts the universe is that simple. Having read Homestuck... it’s complicated! It turns out, at least some of our decisions create doomed timelines, whereas only one timeline - possibly carefully pruned by the agents of Lord English - is the ‘alpha’, ‘canon’ timeline.

Which Boldir calls attention to. The forces, huh.

We talk a bit about how the protagonist got here. Apparently the whole episode of vehicle theft - notably a rocket, possibly others - involved about 48 hours of drifting in space before reaching the Alternia system. If not for the fact we, the readers, know that we went to another universe, that would have to be some serious thrust and delta-v. But I guess the protag doesn’t know that.

As we walk about, taking care to avoid tails, Boldir receives a message by way of a large black bird. She asks us if there is anything we do like about Alternia...

Aww.

We end up rushing to a deserted lot filled with rubbish. Boldir waits for one of her contacts. And then... the assassin from the other branch gets her.

This time we have no antidote to help her with. The protagonist gets upset - so many of their friends have died because...

Then reality starts to break down.

So this is what being in a doomed timeline is like!

“There’s honestly too many of them.” Huh.

I guess being with Boldir in a doomed timeline lets us - briefly - perceive the other doomed timelines, all the little offshoots of possibility. That’s cool. It’s working the whole visual-novel-branching-path thing into the narrative.

But anyway. That’s it for this timeline.

And that means... our protagonist is some kind of temporally displaced agent. They, or at least some kind of mysterious ‘forces’, are within the narrative probing all the various timelines to see what happens in each one. Which goes some way to explaining why we remember stuff from non-canon offshoot branches.

And this time, the death screen is not the final screen of this branch.

Dun dun dun.

Unfortunately, I have made the mistake of scrolling down the list of chapters and seeing the preview of the final chapter, which wasn’t initially in the game. So I have some idea what this is hinting towards already. I guess like... if you were gonna play this yourself, you probably wouldn’t be reading a liveread first.

So... it’s Doc Scratch, right? The last chapter is called ‘Of Hosts, Excellent’, and he’s in there. Doc Scratch is, for some reason, manipulating the timeline to make us befriend all of these trolls. No doubt he’s the one who made sure we could get into this universe at all. Why? Well, that’s the question...

Stelsa

On that ominous note, it’s time for fashion.

This episode opens with a lovely rain backdrop. The BGM sounds like something that would go in a mall area in a pokémon game. Our protagonist has decided to walk rather than drive, and it’s happened to rain.

In keeping with this whole, like, ‘every branch is true’ thing...

We have mention of Tirona’s umbrella, which wasn’t given to us in the ‘true’ friendship route.

We get a first choice...

Break and enter or get back in our car? Guessing if we get back in our car we’ll just like, leave and that will be that.

No, much worse. We straight up die.

So, we’re set on breaking and entering... but then Stelsa turns up before we can try.

She’s talking on what the protagonist calls a Bluetooth headset. My guess is it’ll have some kind of ridiculous troll name.

She’s back from a jog, evidently immune to acid, so we take the chance to try to sneak into her house.

Apparently all-caps is just her quirk, not just when she’s on the phone.

For once, our reputation does not precede us..? No, it does, ‘the alien everyone is talking about’ indeed.

She introduces herself as an ‘auditerrorizer in training’. So another non-legal teal role. And immediately offers to help with our business (as well as asking about our stylist, even though we’re in a borrowed hoodie).

Apparently she knows ‘zizi’ - Tyzias? Huh. Wouldn’t have figured her for a revolutionary, but maybe she doesn’t know.

...oh huh. The protagonist recalls that this is Tyzias’s matesprit! This game has lots of lesbeans :>

We enter her office. There is a whole lot of Alternian text. Oh joy.

The motivational posters: ‘TENACITY: -ive up already, lowbloods’ and ‘SUNRISE’ but I can’t make out the caption on that one. A sampling of filing cabinet drawers: ‘A-Ab’, ‘Ab-Ac’, etc. The book spines are just squiggles.

Stelsa heads off to take a shower.

I always screenshot troll idioms.

The protagonist takes in the very organised office - except for one desk, which is probably Tyzias’s.

Tyzias emerges from the shower and immediately moves to end our meeting, to-do-list item done...

Apparently she urgently needs to replace a cancelled beautician appointment.  We get a choice...

I’m very tempted to see what happens if our protagonist tries their hand at being a beautician... let’s do that.

Oh, we’re already off to a fantastic start.

We head to her respiteblock to help her clean up.

So we have to CYOA through this sequence. We get to choose whether to start by...

Let’s go with hair styling. We pick up a hair drier that may in fact have teeth, and get to work. We’re probably doing this right, since she starts thinking of her gf.

As the protagonist acknowledges, Tyzias isn’t one for elaborate beauty regimes.

We see that she’s reading a book about history of revolts, and try to talk about that. Stelsa is startled that we’d be so casual with infosec...

‘DEFINITELY NOT TO ANY MAN’

‘She sounds way too earnest for this to be a cover up’. Oh shit. We’ve done it now.

Thankfully she doesn’t press the issue. We get to work on her nails. She starts asking about an ‘acquaintance’...

An acquaintance, huh.

The protagonist fumbles around for a suggestion, and points to open communication. Stelsa says, wouldn’t that just cause unnecessary friction for her ‘friend’ and her matesprit, since she doesn’t share those views? The narrator reassures her that she - her friend - doesn’t have to agree with her matesprit on every particular.

We’re rather relieved. In game and out.

THEY SURE DO... which is why we’re playing this game, of course.

But anyway... more by luck than judgement, we’ve made our way onto the friendship route!

Which means it’s all downhill from here.

First of all, what if we polished her horns instead of styling her hair?

I’m guessing the whole ‘horns as erogenous zones’ thing is being confirmed here.

Yeah.

So now that leaves one more substantial branch... not pretending to be a beautician, and suggesting getting ready for the meeting.

Her client turns out to be...

Remele! Our artist friend. It’s getting hard to keep track of all these names, honestly.

She’s excited to learn that we’re friends, and asks what we can tell her about Remele as we drive our stolen scuttlebuggy. Not sure yet how this can go horrendously wrong.

Apparently, though, she’s a fan! We get a callback to Vriska’s famous irons in the fire...

Unfortunately, as we travel... we reach some road works. Turns out our scuttlebuggy’s map is out of date.

And we can’t drive. Stelsa puts the car into manual and we go careening off the road. Which messes up Stelsa’s hairstyle. Friendship: over.

One more dead timeline. Doc Scratch has his work cut out for him.

And that’s that! More tomorrow, or maybe later this evening, depending on how like... real work goes.

[thethespacecoyote]

10 or 23 rhack, please?

I’ll still try to do 10 but for now here’s 23! I actually had some fun making this. 

Modern AU!

Rhys watched idly as the outside world blew past, scattered houses and trees blurring by against the shimmering backdrop of the ocean. He rested his temple against the window, feeling the vibrations. The train hummed smoothly along, carting day-trippers and businessmen alike south along the coastline.

Rhys was pleased. The train wasn’t packed, despite its late-afternoon stops, leaving the seat next to him happily empty. Because even if he didn’t get some nosy commuter wanting to ask about everything from where he wwas going to what he did for a living to what his favorite flavor if ice cream was, he would at least have to deal with another body bunching in uncomfortably close and run the risk of needing to maneuver over their knees if they fell asleep and he needed to go to the bathroom.

This way, he had space for his laptop bag, which freed up the legroom below so he could stretch out all the way and avoid the cramping that sometimes pinched in his muscles on those crowded train trips.

His mom had hinted several times she’d buy him a car or at least put up for the down payment to spare him the apparent iniquity of using public transit, but the allure of actually purchasing something as big as a car outright was too much so he was waiting and saving until he could get one for himself. In the mean time, the train was the best option, and the only one where you could nap for half of the trip without causing a major accident.

Rhys crossed his arms loosely over his chest, turning away from the window and sliding down in his seat, trying to get comfortable enough to take said nap. He had his laptop and his phone and the train had free Wi-Fi, but drowsiness tugged at his eyebrows and he wanted to be fully awake by the time Vaughn picked him up from the train station, so hunkering down and passing out for a couple hours now while he was bored and had the time just made sense.

He was just starting to drift off, dreams about all the fun he was going to get up to while visiting his bro swimming in his mind, when a sudden commotion jolted him awake. He rapidly blinked the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself up straight as the din continued. He made out one shouting voice needled by a couple muted ones, followed by the thumping of footsteps that grew louder and louder and closer. Rhys shifted to the other seat, leaning out into the aisle as he listened in. His heart beat quicker—there were signs all over the station and the train itself warning about potential dangers and how if you saw something you should say something, and just as Rhys was wondering if he should worry about being held hostage the door near the front of the carriage flew open.

Rhys was a little ashamed of the frightened yipe he let out when a man stormed through, the floor shuddering with each angry stomp and cutting murmur that spilled from him. Rhys’ arms threw up defensively about his body, but after a moment he realized this guy was a lot more indignant businessman than violent criminal. His charcoal suit, though rumpled, was obviously of high quality. Rhys had worked the summer after his freshman year selling and fitting suits in the mall by his parent’s house, and while he’d quit before he’d made much out of it, he ended up learning quite a bit. The lapel lifted sharply in a sleek Italian cut, and as he violently adjusted his dress collar Rhys caught a glimpse of cold cufflinks that matched the tie the man was in the process of loosening.

Rhys watched as the man thumped down the aisle, the rest of the passengers shrinking in their seats or blindly busying themselves in their books or laptops as to not catch the man’s attention. Rhys realized he was staring a moment too late, as the man’s sharp eyes suddenly lifted to fix upon him and he started to head in Rhys’ direction.

A broad hand thudded atop the plush head of the seat next to Rhys, making him flinch and rear back, staring up at the man like a frightened puppy. Tan fingers stroked angrily against the cloudy blue leather, expensive rings winking in the sun and confusing Rhys as to whether he should look at them or the piercing eyes glaring down on him.

“Move over, kiddo, I’m taking this spot.”

Rhys flattened himself against the window as the man dropped down into the seat, back thudding against the cushion with a frustrated huff that blew hair out of his eyes. He seemed to completely ignore Rhys after that, muttering to himself as he pulled out his phone and started to tap furiously at what Rhys first assumed was a message. However, as he peered curiously over he could see it to be some kind of mobile game involving popping colored balloons for points. Rhys stayed still, eyes alternating between the inside of his hoodie collar and the rapid movement of the man’s fingers and the angry concentration in his eyebrows. After a couple minutes and a new high score, the man shut off his phone with a huff, shoving it into his pocket.

“Frikkin’ bitch…” He moaned, dragging his hand down his face. His legs kicked out underneath the seat in front of him, the tense anger draining out of him and leaving what seemed to be just a simmering fury. Rhys watched tentatively, like he was dealing with a pissed-off lion that could maul him in a moment’s notice if he wasn’t careful.

Rhys figured he should probably just go back to staring out the window or trying to take his nap, but like the idiot he was he decided to prod his new seat mate. He untangled himself from the defensive posture he’d managed to bunch himself into, resting his hand on the armrest separating them.

“P-Penny for your thoughts?” Regretfully, his voice came out as a squeak.

He almost immediately wished he hadn’t spoken up, because the the other man’s neck snapped to him like it’d been broken, eyes angry and affronted as he glared at Rhys’ shirking expression.

“What was that?”

“U-Um, I mean, I just—“ Rhys faltered, unsure of what he’d been thinking to start this conversation. This guy had just barreled into his car, worked into a tizzy, and stolen the seat next to him. Obviously, he didn’t want to be bothered, and yet here Rhys was trying to start up a conversation—why was he trying to do that?

Because the guy wore a nice suit and had flawless bronzed skin and that kind of carelessly styled hair that drove Rhys absolutely wild. It was the kind of hair you expected to see in bed after sex and he wanted to run his hands through it and maybe give it a little tug.

The guy was hot. Basically.

“You…you’re just…um, who’s the bitch?”

The man narrowed his eyes, turning and leaning over the armrest right into Rhys’ space.

“Your momma ever teach you not to stick your nose in other people’s business?” He grumbled, and Rhys’ cheeks colored as he shrunk back, ready to call this a loss and sink into embarrassment, when the older man kept going.

“…It’s my frikkin girlfriend. She always gets bitchy on these long trips but then she doesn’t wanna take the car either, so what the hell am I suppose to do, y’know?” For the first time, Rhys notices the slight slur to the man’s words. This was a guy who could afford to get drunk on a train.

“What…what did she do exactly?” The man snorted, shifting so he sat slightly sideways in his seat, knee out into Rhys’ space and nearly touching his thigh.

“She orders the fish, see? And she always orders the fish. So I tell her if she doesn’t stop doing that I’m not gonna wanna go down on her anymore cause you know. Fish. Get it?” The man’s hands helped him tell the story, flopping around on well-oiled wrists. “Yeah, you get it, handsome lil’ thing like you, you probably get all the tail.”

Rhys was usually the tail being had, but he merely nodded along to the older man’s story as he carried on.

“Anyway she gets all mad at me making jokes about her junk in front of the guy taking the order but it’s just a joke and the attendant doesn’t care, he’s paid to listen to whatever I say but she doesn’t let it go, and then when I decide to order just…just a little bit of after-dinner whiskey, see?” He holds two fingers together for emphasis. “She goes all ballistic on me. ‘Bout how I’m always drinking whenever I’m with her and how if I really liked her I wouldn’t be ordering booze all hours of the day, and then I tell her if she wasn’t such a capital B bitch maybe I wouldn’t have to drink. But she’s upset, so I ask her what I should order like the gentleman I am, and she says to get a diet coke. Diet! Can you believe it? Says I’ve been packing on the pounds lately and well…” He snorted, eyes flitting to the front of the cabin. “Pretty sure you guys all heard the rest.”

“Um…yeah. Kind of did.” Rhys laughed nervously. “A-Actually, I kind of thought for a moment that something was up, like….people were trying to rob the car or something.”

“Heh, you did? What, like old-timey train bandits?” The man snickered, forming a gun with his hand and affecting a harsh accent as he nudged the barrel into Rhys’ side. “Hands up, kiddo, this ‘ere’s a stick-up!”

“Please don’t, I have a family to care for!” Rhys faux-cried as he stuck up his hands, eyes fluttering like he was about to faint across the seat. The man found this endlessly funny, because his chest heaved with laugher until his voice was practically soundless.

“Shucks kid, you’re a hell of a lot more fun than the ice queen in first class.” He patted Rhys’ shoulder and showed him his smile and oh. Oh. If Rhys didn’t already think he was handsome, that did him in. It was the kind of smile that bunched up in the cheekbones and reached the eyes with a flirtatious wink. It made fuzzy feelings dance in Rhys’ stomach.

“A-And you’re a lot better than the snoring businessmen who usually sit next to me, or the mom’s who just wanna tell me about their kids and ask where I’m going to school…”  

“Should hope so. I’m a lot more fun than all that, trust me.”

Rhys didn’t know a thing about this guy but he did, almost immediately. He had a weird, hypnotic sort of charm that already had Rhys leaning back over the armrest to get closer.  

Suddenly, as if responding to his creeping interest, the man slid his arm around Rhys’ shoulders like they were old friends. He jumped slightly at that, but the man just yanked him closer. The armrest pressed uncomfortably into Rhys’ ribs, but the sudden proximity and the man’s breath—slightly warm from the whiskey—ghosting over his face left him numb to it.

“Shoot, just remembered I didn’t ask your name yet…what do they call ya, pumpkin?”

Rhys momentarily forgot himself, dizzied by the sudden scent and warmth he’d been pulled into. This guy seemed to radiate warmth and blossomed with musky cologne that made Rhys think of black tie dinners and a cabin fireside all rolled up together.

“Rhys. Rhyyys. Rhysie.” Jack repeated his name like he was trying to figure out whether he liked how it felt in his mouth. “That’s one you don’t hear everyday.”

“Yeah, my mom had a friend with that name and really liked it…don’t bother asking me how it’s spelled though, it’s…” he laughed softly. “It’s a headache.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got an easy one. J-A-C-K.”

“Jack?”

“Bingo, kiddo. Nice and simple. No B.S.”

“I like it.” Rhys wasn’t lying. A name like “Jack” just seemed to fit this guy like the way his suit did. Sharp and striking, but with a bit of a relaxed, casual touch. He seemed the type of person to dress to the nines and go to a chain restaurant, just to ensure he’d be the center of attention.

Jack’s lips curled at the edges, like a sticker peeling up. He rubbed Rhys’ upper arm, tugging him in closer, until he was practically resting against his shoulder. His brain continued shorting out, just allowing Jack to touch him and shift him around however he saw fit.

“And I like you, kiddo. Just what I needed after all that crap…” Rhys heart thumped against his hoodie as Jack petted him like a fussy kitten, looking wistfully out the window behind him. “Too bad this ride ain’t longer…”

Jack’s brows furrowed suddenly in thought, before bright realization beamed across his face. He roughly grabbed both of Rhys’ shoulders, turning the kid more towards him.

“Oh, wait, wait. I got it. I can take you out with me!”

Rhys gaped in startled confusion at the sudden grab and the way Jack’s smile grew, corners cutting into his cheeks.

“U-Uh, pardon?”

“You see, my girlfriend and I had reservations at this great place, steaks as big as your head and drinks that’ll put ya in a coma,  but like hell I’m gonna go with her after that little scene.” Jack sneered, eyes narrowing towards the front of the compartment. He blew air rudely between his lips. “Whatever. She can have fun figuring out how to get home without my credit card.”

“U-Um, that’s not necessary, really,” Rhys faltered, hands resting on Jack’s wrists. “Besides, um, I kind of had plans with a friend, and I don’t really think I should—“

“Just tell ‘em other plans came up. Hell, to make up for it, they can meet us for breakfast in the morning. My treat.”

“In the…the morning?”

Jack winked at him, smile never hesitating.

“Well sure, pumpkin. You think I’d travel all this way for dinner and not have a room to sleep it off in?”

“H-Hold on—“ This was all going too fast for Rhys. One moment, he’d been joking along with Jack, and now he was openly flirting with him and ditching his girlfriend to invite him out to dinner and even insinuating they spend the night together.

As enticing as Jack was, this felt a little too much, too fast. Rhys wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t the type of guy to engage in random hookups on the fly. How old was Jack, anyway? The tasteful puff of grey hair springing from his crown put him at at least forty, unless he was just aging prematurely, but that felt like a stretch.

“What d’you mean ‘hold on,’ kiddo?”

Rhys thought he saw Jack’s smile falter, but it might just be the trees rushing behind them outside the train window, cutting off the amber glow of the sun setting over the ocean. It would be night soon enough, probably well into sunset by the time the train pulled into the station. Vaughn was probably already getting read to come drive and pick him up.

Rhys glanced about for a distraction as his mind scrabbled for some kind of an excuse, a reason he couldn’t spend the night with Jack aside from the reasons that had already been shut down, when his hand grabbed Rhys’ collar and yanked him closer until they were nose to nose.

“I’ll cut right to the chase, kiddo. I’m not the kind of guy who spends the night alone.” He breathed right into Rhys’ mouth, as if trying to give him a taste of what could be. “I could go up to any old chick or dude in that city and have them in my bed not ten minutes later. So here’s your chance to get in on the ground floor. You might not get another one.”

Rhys grasped frantically for his senses, trying to settle on a decision and get his tongue to force it out, but Jack’s proximity and ultimatum was sending his brain into a flurry. All he could see was Jack’s eyes this close, brows creased and irises still vibrant sea green, like a neon sign lit prematurely in the flagging sunset.

Rhys swallowed, the conscious movement helping him think things clearer.

He’d already planned on staying with Vaughn for almost a week. They’d still have plenty of nights to hang out and go to dinner and do all the things they’d been planning on doing. One night with a handsome stranger wasn’t going to change things that much.

“So?” Jack pulled back slightly, just enough so that Rhys could see his entire face again, in its full, charming glory. “What do you say, Rhysie?”

Jack’s arm was looped around Rhys’ waist, hand stuck in his hoodie pocket as the two of them left the train together. Rhys’ laptop bag bobbed awkwardly between them but Jack didn’t seem to mind. In just an hour’s time, the space between them had shrunk to just the little space between their hips, and Rhys’ cheeks heated as he imagined where how close they’d be in another hour, two hours’ time.

The sun had long died over the train behind them, its silvery paneling glowing with the faint remains of red and purple that still streaked over the sky. Rhys looked briefly over his shoulder at it, his ears full of Jack’s voice as he noticed someone was staring at them.

The short red dress and heels set her apart from the rest of the tired, disembarking passengers, as did the piercing green eyes that seemed to glow just the way Jack’s did. She was looking at Rhys’ like she’d expected him to be there all along—or at least someone like him. He felt uncomfortable, then, like he’d done something wrong but only one other person in the world knew it.

It was only for a moment, though, as Jack tugged him away from the main body of the departing crowd and towards the curb, where a smartly dressed driver opened the backseat door to a large, sleek black limousine. Any regrets Rhys might have felt were dashed as Jack slid into the leather seats effortlessly as oil, open arms and devilish smile welcoming Rhys into his evening promise, rich with the dark comforts of luxury.

[gripefroot]

When Life Gives You Melons

The dull fluorescents and the tinny radio station over the speakers make the grocery store a hotbed of discomfort. Keeps him glancing over his shoulder, waiting for someone with a gun to pop out between boxes and rows of pasta, cackling madly against the liminal backdrop. So, Bucky isn’t exactly in the habit of ‘grocery shopping’ - but he does it for you. 

Or, should he say - with you.  

His knuckles are white on the handle of the shopping cart, and the metal beneath his glove creaks slightly. He tries to ignore the crackling music. The other people standing around - barely moving, barely aware - so slow at ten a.m. on a Tuesday. It’s easiest to keep his eyes on you.  

Whether you’re aware that he’s watching or not - and he fancies you do - there’s no shiver of discomfort, no hesitancy. Fingers curling around bright, plump lemons; weighing them in your palm with a bitten lip in concentration. It’s all very domestic, but that doesn’t make it less sexy. Bucky swallows thickly as your tongue hovers on the cusp of your top lip - still thinking? - and then with a breathy sigh that reminds him of dark nights in the bedroom, you put that particular lemon back.  

Testing his patience? He wouldn’t wonder.  

“You’re pretty,” he blurts, but keeps his voice lazy. Make sure you remember that two can play at this game - this cat and mouse dance where he isn’t sure who’s the cat and who’s the mouse - except that both parties seem to end enormously satisfied. His lips curl into a smug smile as you glance over, eyes dancing.  

“Lemons turn you on?” A suggestive wiggle of the brows, and he barely manages to suppress a laugh into a snort - draw less attention, that way. “Do we need to look at the bananas, next?” you add, and Bucky nearly chokes.  

“You tryna kill me, babe?” 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Another lemon weighed, while your gaze, all hot and heady, stays on him - he swallows again, and your smile is all satisfaction. “What’s next on the list?” you ask, twisting the bag of lemons closed.  

“Um - it just says ‘fruit’.” 

“Let’s go see what looks good, then.” 

Nectarines and plums are out of season, looking small and sad. Pineapple is overpriced. Bucky pauses to sniff some peaches, dragging a scarlet-and-orange globe to his nose to catch any hint of ripeness.  

“Hey. What do you think?” 

He glances ahead - facing him square on, wicked smile on your face - a honeydew in each hand, held chest-high. He blinks. And then he laughs.  

“Nice melons,” Bucky jokes.  

“Thanks. I thought you might like them.” 

“So, you’re saying - we don’t need any because you already got some?” He quirks a brow.  

“Well,” your brows pinch in serious thought. “We can’t eat mine for supper, now can we?” 

“I could.” 

“Won’t fill you up.”  

He shrugs. “Overrated.” 

“If you’re really not interested in food,” a glint in your eyes now, that prickles heat across his skin, “I can offer alternative...eating options.” 

“I’ll take them,” he says promptly. 

“Perfect.” A sly smile - but a honeydew goes into the cart anyway, and he smiles back a sloppy, lovesick grin that makes his bones vibrate with joy, and he forgets how much he hates grocery stores as he follows you towards the misty display of fresh herbs. 

This rare day off together makes Bucky wish for more. His last mission in Neuquén, yours in Kuala Lumpur - still half-jet lagged, but every moment special. Even in the mundane ones, like opening a plastic bag so that you can slide some basil in as you slant a smirk up at him.  

“What?” he asks.  

“Oh, nothing.” 

“Uh, huh. What is it?” 

“Can’t I enjoy shopping with my boyfriend?” A blithe question, almost accusatory - but really, it’s a challenge. He’d be able to hear it in your voice from a mile away.  

“Without ulterior motives?” Bucky teases. “Fat chance, babe.”  

A tiny gasp, breaking off into a laugh.  

“I know you just want a piece of this,” he adds in a low voice, and by that glint in your eyes - he knows he’s right. Makes his belly flame hot, and he smiles as he drives the cart behind you, watching how you sway just so… 

It’s a shame there’s no thigh holster, today. But it’s a grocery store. And your knife is beneath your shirt, anyway. 

Maybe he can disarm you, later.  

“You know what we haven’t done yet?” you ask absently, as the checkouts beep. Putting goods on the runway, as Bucky surreptitiously tosses in about three packs of gum. 

“Hmm?” 

“We haven’t gotten anything for the baby.” 

Oh. Right. The baby. His lips press together in his usual contradiction of emotions when he considers this - happiness for 41 and her glowing smiles, annoyance at Clint for desecrating her, and maybe a little jealousy. Not that he’s brave enough to bring that topic up to you - he’s not even sure if such a future is possible for him - but with a sigh he shakes off these feelings for later. 

“We can go later,” he suggests. Gets a flash of a smile for that as you glance over.  

“After lunch?” 

“Sure.”  

Carrying bags of groceries back to your apartment should be tedious. But it’s not. Not with your elbow linked through his, making an obnoxious plastic bags-assassin-plastic bags-secret agent-plastic bags train, plowing through the Manhattan sidewalks as New Yorkers cast scowls for the inconvenience. Bucky doesn’t care. And he knows you don’t, either.  

Over sandwiches, a quick search into baby stores. He doesn’t know any, and you admit to only being familiar with baby stores in your hometown. He chuckles to himself, resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes over at the screen of your phone, too.  

“A mall?” he says suddenly, good feelings gone. “Babe - no.”

“We won’t find anything anywhere else,” you point out. “Not unless you want to travel an hour.” 

“I don’t like malls.”

“I know, Buck.” A twist of your head, the lightest peck to his pouting lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” 

Bucky wrinkles his nose. Pretends to think. “Well, gee,” he drawls at last. “A pretty girl to hold my hand?” 

“And pinch your behind,” you interrupt. 

“And that? Well - how can a fellow say no?” A grin - which you return with a laugh, and he presses a noisy kiss to your cheek. “But if you drag me into a candle store, I’m rioting,” he promises, and you wriggle in his embrace.  

“I like a good riot every now and then,” you say lightly. “Don’t tempt me.” 

A groan, a roll of the eyes, a laugh - teasing all the way out the door, a casual pair in sneakers and jackets with fewer weapons than usual, still stowed away… 

As much as Bucky detests busy places, it’s not so bad with you. Your whispered comments on the subway and into the mall, teasing about this or that, murmuring quips at a hundred miles an hour as he tries to keep from drawing attention by laughing the entire time. But he’s grinning, his face hurts, and your smirk is the prettiest, most lethal thing he’s seen.  

The baby store, a sign lit up bright blue with little bunny and fox decals filling up the massive windows in the front. Bucky squeezes your hand more tightly, seeing families milling around and hearing the high-pitched whine of babies -  

It’s okay. Of course it’s okay. He’d rather listen to a baby cry than gunfire, any day.  

“I’m gonna text 41 and see what she needs,” you decide. Pause you pull out your phone, and Bucky lets his eyes rove. Bright displays - tiny baby shoes in every color and pattern and style, lined up on a rack. Headbands and hair clips and hats and bow ties and neckties...Bucky wanders over, curious in the oddest way. They made stuff this little? For babies? 

Without thinking, his lips draw down in a concentrated frown: hesitating only for a moment, before picking up with one hand - suddenly looking very large - a pair of black Converse shoes, which look like each one might fit one of his fingers. He looks at them one way, and then another. 

Maybe it’s just been too long since he’s seen a baby. Bucky doesn’t remember his sisters or kid cousins ever being this tiny.  

“Do we - ” he starts, wondering if baby Barton needs little shoes. Glances over at you, wanting an answer - but you’re staring, and he starts. Hadn’t noticed how intently you’re looking at him - phone limp in your hand, blinking fast, and if he tilts his head, listening to the rapid pitter-patter of your heart rate, suddenly elevated. “Are you okay, babe?” Bucky asks, concerned with a pinch of his brow - puts the shoes carefully back on the rack.  

“Ye - yeah.” A squeak. High-pitched and thin. He frowns now - this is unlike you. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on your face, searching for any hint of illness or otherwise, he strides back to your side, clasping your elbow with the fingers of his flesh hand.  

“Did 41 text you back already?” Bucky asks. Watches the widening of your pupils, the sudden catch in your breath. 

“Oh - um, yes. They need���socks.” 

“Socks?” 

“And, um, bibs.”  

“Perfect. You wanna…” He lifts a brow. “Divide and conquer? Or…?” 

“Let’s…” You swallow. “Let’s stick together.” 

“Fine by me.” Bucky smiles - a reassuring, bracing smile, to you in the midst of the baby store chaos, and he reaches down to squeeze your hand lightly. Your flesh is hot and damp. “They’re having a girl, right?” he prompts, as you lick your lips. Almost hungrily. Hmm.  

“Uh - yeah.” A flicker of a smile, a shake of your head. “Maybe they’ll name her after me,” you joke, and he laughs as he tugs you towards the sock display.  

“What? 28? Or Agent?” 

“Ha, ha.” A dark, mischievous look. Bucky snorts with a shake of his head. Turns his head to study the rack of socks. Frowns some more.  

“How about these?” he asks dubiously. Pokes a pack of striped socks. 

“No,” you say. “Bucky - those are 6-9 month size. The baby comes out a newborn. See?” And with a tap of the fingers, you point towards the sizing, printed clearly at the top of the package. Eyes twinkling, as Bucky shakes his head. 

“This store is complicated.” 

“Just look for a pair labelled ‘NB’.”  

He does. Looks past the printed airplanes, the animals, the solid colors. You bench slightly to examine the lower racks, all lace frills and bows. Cars, alligators, unicorns.  

“Oh. This one.” Bucky reaches out - picks up an appropriately sized pack. Six pairs - doughnuts, lollipops, hard candy, cake, and pie. You laugh.  

“Perfect.” 

“Gosh, they’re so tiny.” With some effort he wiggles a finger into one of the doughnut socks - terribly soft and stretchy, but teeny - chortles to himself as he glances down at you, still crouched - and sees, again, that funny expression on your face as you stare. You let out a long, low breath. Are your hands shaking? “Babe?” Bucky asks, baffled. 

“It’s just - it’s getting hot in here.” A taut smile as you rise to your feet again. A meaningful look in your eyes. Oh, is that - oh. Bucky swallows, hard, and your fingers reach to unzip your jacket. “Really hot,” you add, with some exertion in your voice. Jacket pulled off. He swallows again.  

“Oh - er, ok.” His finger is still inside the sock. He pulls it off, groaning softly.  

“Maybe it’s best if we split up,” you suggest. “I’ll - I’ll go find...something. You’re on bibs.”  

“Okay, babe.” 

He watches the top of your head out of the corner of his eye - picking out jammies that look about the size to hold a banana, he thinks wryly. And he rifles through bibs. Finds a set to match the socks amongst the seeming hundreds of options, and feels immensely proud.  

Oh. Oh boy - Bucky catches sight, on top of the bib rack, of a basket full of stuffed animals. Bunnies, elephants, monkeys. Pink and purple and blue. At one end, a crowning jewel: a pale-tan alpaca llama, decorated colorfully with bangles and a saddle and reins.  

He has to get it.  

“Babe,” he hisses, arms full of merchandise - wandering over to the jammies, where you have at least four pairs slung over your arm as you hold up a purple-and-pink striped pair for view. “Babe, we have to get this.” Wriggles the llama for your inspection, and you lift a brow.  

“Of course we can,” you say with a smile. “It’ll look great next to your bed.” 

“Not for me,” Bucky says, affronted. “For the baby.” 

“Sure.” The striped jammies go over your arm, too.  

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we got enough.” A smile, gazing over the merchandise in his arms. Bucky offers a hopeful smile. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth - another once over, this one slower. He hears, yet again, the pickup in your heart beat. Glazed eyes, shifting your weight slightly… 

“You sure you’re alright?” he asks doubtfully. “Your heart is going really fast.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you say. Breathless and soft. “Um - can we...we should stop somewhere before heading home.” 

“You sure?” Absently Bucky’s flesh fingers run down the alpaca - freakishly smooth and fluffy alpaca - whatever it’s made out of. He’s sure he’s never touched anything so soft… “What’s so important?” he asks, as your lashes flutter so slightly, your burning eyes still on his face.  

“Umm…” Darting tongue, wet lips. Skin radiating more heat than usual. “Having my way with you in the nearest bathroom.” 

“Let’s go,” he suggests. “Sooner the better.” 

“Yes,” you agree. “Let’s.” 

Nervous energy at the checkout - fumbling with cash, grabbing the bag too fast to be polite. Shared, secret laughs as the baby store is left behind, bag swinging, and you jerk your head towards a family bathroom. Unlocked.  

“This is nasty,” Bucky announces, as you lock the door behind him - creepy lights, a ripe smell. But then your hands are on him, pawing at his belt as he groans aloud - bag drops to the floor, and he doesn’t hesitate to lift you by your hips, pressing your back to a wall.  

“You,” you pant. Teeth gnash against his neck as he tugs down your jeans with some difficulty - underwear pushed aside. “Are so sexy. Bucky, you’re so sexy.” 

“Huh?” Not that he’s complaining - especially when his brain and senses are so doped up on you.  

“Ugh - holding those baby socks. You’re lucky I didn’t pull off your pants and suck you off right then and there.”  

Bucky shudders head to toe, eyes fuzzy - and with some magic because he ain’t thinking right now - sinks right into; hot and wet and moaning so pretty in his ear, and he’s so warm still mostly-clothed, but he doesn’t care - thrusting up and in as you melt around him. Barely staying on his shaking legs, ignoring the distant sound of mall-goers walking by - no, this is more important.  

He buries his face into your neck, losing himself in the husky vibrations of your moans - clenches up when you do, choking out a grunt as you bear down on him.  

Like, two minutes. Efficient. His head is still rushing, though.  

“Oh, oh, Bucky - look.” A twist of your head, and blearily, Bucky follows your gaze. 

The bag on the floor, discarded in aroused haste - above just peeking out of the top, the beady black eyes of the softest-ever alpaca. Staring right at him. Sewn-on smile frozen.  

“Do you...do you think he saw?” Bucky asks hoarsely.  

“Definitely.” A little kiss pressed to his temple, but he barely feels it.  

“Babe...we can’t give the baby that alpaca.”  

“No?” you ask with some amusement. Hold around his neck tightening. “We can adopt him, then. It’s a he? Have you named him yet, Buck?”  

“Robert.” 

A tinkling laugh in his ear. “Robert? That’s such a grown-up name! Not even Robbie or Bobby?” 

“He’s an adult,” Bucky says firmly. “After what he just saw? No llama has ever grown up so fast in the history of llamakind.”  

“Bobby,” you counter. “Now let me down. I can feel the germs crawling on me.”  

There’s a softer light in your eyes after that - heat still lingering in the back, but it makes Bucky feel cozy and warm as he zips his pants back up. Hands washed. Bag picked up. Awkwardly he pushes Bobby’s head further down in the bag with a wince, as you laugh again.  

“Melon for dinner?” you chirp, as he wrenches open the door.  

“Uh - sure. Melon for dinner.”  

[thekoreanlass]

As part of fulfilling my pledge from before and as a celebration of me becoming a fan of BTS, I’ll start my own version of ‘BTS Tour‘ with filming locations related to their album The Most Beautiful Moment In Life (화양연화 / HYYH). From MVs, jacket photos, prologue video down to their epilogue video from this comeback, I’ll try to cover them!

Without further ado, let’s go ARMY!

| PHOTO SHOOT

💜 Bomun Tourist Complex ( 보문 관광단지 )

In their album ‘The most beautiful moment in life, part 1‘, the man-made Bomun Lake (in Bomun Tourist Complex) with its many cherry blossom trees that decorate it in spring became BTS members’ backdrop for their photo shoot.

Within the Bomun Tourist Complex are facilities designed in a traditional style such as the tourist center, international conference room, golf resort, shopping mall, and a tourist hotel, etc. But Bomun Lake is famous for bikers and people who love to walk since it does have a long walkway around it with many cherry trees. Surely, you’ll love to go there too in spring!

Location: Sinpyeong-dong, Gyeongju-si, Gyeongsangbuk-do (경상북도 경주시 신평동) Info: visitkorea

💜 Gyeongju Cheomseongdae Observatory ( 경주 첨성대 )

Another beautiful location from their 화양연화 photo shoot is the Cheomseongdae Observatory in Gyeongju.

This flower field is actually surrounding the observatory tower itself. Isn’t it really pretty from the pictures? But wait! I know you’re here for BTS, but let me tell you this: Cheomseongdae is known as the oldest existing astronomical observatory in Asia. It was constructed during the reign of Queen Seon Deok! The place stands out on its own because of its meaningful existence and history so be sure to drop by especially in the spring just like BTS did!

Location: 140-25, Cheomseong-ro, Gyeongju-si, Gyeongsangbuk-do 경상북도 경주시 첨성로 140-25 (황남동) Info: visitkorea

💜 Jeju Island – Andeul Oreum (안돌오름)

HYYH was also filmed in various locations in Jeju island just like this particular photo shoot the boys had in one of Jeju Island’s oreum trails. The photos they had here came out looking so magical as if they were in a dream and depicted their very fun youth days as they played in the fields of Jeju while surrounded by bubbles and nature itself.

According to wikipedia, ‘oreum’ in Jeju dialect implies to the ‘parasitic cone’ and the origin of the word is also ‘climb’. Jeju’s oreum refers to a small volcano within the main volcanic crater in Jeju-do and is typically applied to the hill in Jeju. There are more than 360 oreums throughout Jeju-do from the mountains down to the coast, which is pretty surprising. I’ve actually never thought Jeju Island housing volcanoes in it! 🙂

Location: 2171 Songdang-ri, Gujwa-eup, Cheju, Jeju-do, South Korea

💜 Dongneo Bundeok (동너분덕)

As seen from their HYYH photo, the members are about to jump off a cliff. This rocky cliff is actually still located in Jeju Island, namely called ‘동너분덕’ which is part of Jeju’s hiking Olle trail #7. Out of all the hiking trails in Jeju, this is said to be the most beautiful trail that visitors should try out. The cliff overlooking the island’s surrounding sea looks especially magnificent!

Location: 797-3 Cheonji-dong, Seogwipo, Jeju-do, South Korea

💜 참외전로 

BTS made this area of Songwol’s neigborhood in Incheon their very own runway as they pose for their HYYH album in chic casual clothing. In the picture, the boys are seen together crossing the street with smiles on their faces while the rays of sun adds drama to the entire concept.

Location: 11-113 Songwol-dong, Jung-gu, Incheon, South Korea

| Prologue/Music Videos/Epilogue

💜 Abandoned Swimming Pool at SNU

This abandoned swimming pool makes its appearance on their HYYH prologue video. It starts off with Taehyung alone in the empty and old pool, lying down on a mattress. The boys are seen running towards the place to hang out with Taehyung. As many fans had already been there, they say that the place looks eerie, but the boys gave life and color to the place that was once not often visited by many.

Location: SNU Genetic Engineering Research Center. Semiconductor Research Center                   유전공학연구소.반도체공동연구소.

💜 Seonjaedo (Seonjae Island)

When the members decided to go to the beach in HYYH prologue it was Seonjae Island where they went to apparently.

Seonjaedo which is located in Incheon is believed to have been there since the Neolithic Era. The name Seonjaedo literally means “an island where a divine fairy came down and danced.”

Location: 101, Seonjae-ro 34beon-gil, Ongjin-gun, Incheon

💜 Nodeulseom (Nodeul Island)

As seen from their Run MV, the members of BTS passes under the Hangang Bridge in full speed, stopping at some point to join Jungkook who looks rather lonely, but smiles as soon as his hyungs reaches him.

This filming location is known to be part of Nodeulseom, which is an artificial island in Han River. The Hanggang Bridge passes directly over the said island that is actually to the east of the larger island of Yeouido.

See here an image of Nodeulseom from Google maps.

Location: 305-9 Ichon-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul, South Korea

💜 North of Banpo Bridge

Another scene from the Run MV was filmed around north of the infamous Banpo Bridge–known for its ‘Moonlight Rainbow Fountain‘ which is known as the world’s longest bridge fountain.

Location: 271-120 Seobinggo-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul, South Korea

💜 Mosan Airfield in Jecheon

Mosan Airfield, which was featured in BTS’ ‘Epilogue: Young Forever‘ MV is now a well known tour spot to ARMY alike. In the video, the members are seen walking this path as the sky turns a shade of pink, orange, yellow and amber as the sun starts to set at the distance.

The airfield was built in the 1950s for military training as an effort to prevent war and protect peace. However, today, the place has been transformed into a park after the city and military agreed to open a part of the land to the public.

Location: 1065-2 Goam-dong, Jecheon, Chungcheongbuk-do, South Korea

💜 Gyeongjeong Beach

In the prologue MV, the boys went out to go to the sea. They happily watch the sun go down while sitting on the sea wall. A poignant looking Taehyung, however, looks up and notices the tall platform installed nearby facing the sea. He climbs up the platform and doesn’t go down despite the other members finally noticing him and telling him to go down. Then, Taehyung bravely jumps as if he has wings of a butterfly.

Location: 426-1 Gyeongjeong-ri, Chuksan-myeon, Yeongdeog, Gyeongsangbuk-do, South Korea

💜 Dongdaemun Apartment

From the ‘I Need U’ MV, Taehyung is seen walking around the corridors of this apartment building.

The said apartment building is inhabited by real people and has been renovated and repainted over time, so it may be a little confusing if you go there. Also, if ever you guys have plans to go to the place please be considerate of the people living there.

Location: 328-17 Changsin-dong, Jongno-gu, Seoul, South Korea

💜 Wolmido Culture Street

In ‘For You‘ MV, Jungkook dejectedly sits down on a bench in his bear costume with Wolmido Island’s ‘Culture Street’ in the backdrop. The view is so captivating from the filmed MV that one won’t just be able to take their eyes of it!

In addition, the island of Wolmido is located roughly 1km off the coast of Incheon. Due to its accessibility, many people go to the island over the weekends to have fun, enjoying various activities like performances at night, street artists showcasing their talent in drawing, cafe and seafood restaurants open to bring good food along the coast so these can be enjoyed while viewing the sea. Also, there is also a theme park here called ‘Play Hill’ which is famous for its thrill rides, including the Viking and Apollo Disco.

Location: 57 Wolmimunhwa-ro, Gaho-dong, Jung-gu, Incheon, South Korea

💜 Incheon Open Port Nuri-gil

Also in ‘For You’ MV, Jungkook is seen standing right in front of an old-looking building that has that Japanese feel to it. While I want to give emphasis to how cute JK looks here, I want to also focus on the area where this building stood. This area is called ‘Incheon Open Port Nuri-gil’ which actually opened in 1883 during the Japanese colonization in Korea. The establishment of this area in Incheon forced the birth of other modern historical architecture here than are still found intact. There are also other known architectures such as the Incheon Art Platform, Jemulpo Gurakbu, Jung-gu Office and the Incheon branch of Japan’s 1st, 18th and 58th bank.

Location: 1-2 Haeandong 1(il)-ga, Jung-gu, Incheon, South Korea

💜 Saemangeum reclaimed land, Buan County

The ‘Save Me‘ MV graces us with dance moves from BTS members that I never thought would be born. Again, BTS becomes one with nature when they shot the MV at a clear land under a not-so-clear sky, but then again the ambiance added to the charm of the song itself.

But did you know this? If you watch the behind story of this MV, you’ll find out they actually filmed the MV while it was raining. So, it was very hard for them to dance as soil turned to mud! Good thing that our hard working boys made it possible for the masterpiece to still look perfect!

Going back to the main point, the MV was actually filmed in Buan County. As Yoongi hinted in the behind story, Buan is located in North Jeolla. The nondescript land is actually reclaimed land in front of the Saemangeum Project Office in Byeonsan neighborhood, so it might be hard to find. Plus, if you look in Google maps, most likely it will only point you to an image of the sea, so in case you want to try and go there try searching for ‘Saemangeum Project Office’ instead.

Location: Daehang-ri, Byeonsan-myeon, Buan-gun, Jeollabuk-do

💜 Neungnae Tunnel

At Neungnae tunnel, we see such a head-turning scene where Jin’s pick-up truck blocks the way, preventing other cars from passing through. Jungkook sits atop of Jin’s truck and looks back victoriously behind him and eventually the seven of them cause trouble–spray painting the cars, spitting drinks, jumping over cars, throwing cups and everything a rebellious teen in their age in BU will do.

See here for google map view of the tunnel.

Location: 951 Sanbon-dong, Gunpo-si, Gyeonggi-do

💜 Hwajeon Tunnel 

Another running scene from ‘Run’ MV was shot at the Hwajeon Tunnel in Gyeonggi-do. In here, just like with most scenes from the MV, BTS goes for an endless run at night as if having a blast just being together.

See here for an image of the tunnel from Google maps.

Location: South Korea, Gyeonggi-do, Goyang-si, Deokyang-gu, Hwajeon-dong, 583-3

–

So, ARMY there you have it! I didn’t know that HYYH era actually used a lot of filming locations in Korea, but here they are. This is for sure not the complete list you must be looking for but I’ll try to find out more information as I search along, since I do still wonder where that trailer track is located at, or that place at the end of the prologue MV where they all fell asleep at. I’m still so much curious and I know I haven’t showcased everything, so I’ll make sure to update this post once I get a hold of the right information.

Lastly, this shall not be the last ‘BTS Tour’ post! I’ll come up with other posts for the other eras or other BTS related filming locations and try to research really hard to help whoever curious souls are out there that are hungry to know where they can go in Korea in the name of BTS. 🙂

In the meantime, check out the other snapshots I took from their videos.

More images captured from BTS’ videos during HYYH era:

  credits: wikipedia, DEOKUTOUR, visitkorea, jjkfire, koreajoongangdaily, btsinfo1 snapshots are all by THE KOREAN LASS 2019

        [Travel] BTS -‘The Most Beautiful Moment In Life’ Filming Location Tour As part of fulfilling my pledge from before and as a celebration of me becoming a fan of BTS, I'll start my own version of '

[avelera]

My wishlist for Voltron season 3 as well as speculation as to where the series is going, what’s happening, what we’re going to learn, some meta etc etc...

(cut for spoilers)

- Galra Keith who actually turns purple is a serious wishlist item, like I’m still over the moon that we got confirmation but I am here for the transformation angst. I also feel like one of the reasons we got the disappointing “non-reaction” from the team is that the revelation isn’t very... impactful? Like Hunk says, we don’t even know if it’s a grandfather or otherwise distant ancestor. I know the fans are disappointed but finding out that someone had a distant alien ancestor is kinda only mildly interesting, to be fair. Like, we’ll see how this plays out but it doesn’t impact their day to day lives. Hunk’s questions, Shiro’s natural acceptance, and Allura’s period of adjustment to the idea really are the only reactions one can have at this point. Nothing actually changed about Keith yet, so it’s just a footnote about who he is but it really doesn’t mean anything yet. (Also, I find Allura’s reaction completely acceptable for a three dimensional, well-written character I don’t even know where the idea that her reaction doesn’t make sense or is “bad” comes from). 

But if we get some purple and ears like the fandom art, then we’ve got grounds for some actual reaction from the team members, because then it’s going to start influence Keith’s day to day life. Infiltration missions with the Galra become easier, but missions like going to the mall or to help oppressed aliens are going to change dramatically. Allura’s initial acceptance may hit a speed bump. The other team members are going to have to deal with a dramatic shift in the visual makeup of the team, with Keith looking like their enemy, and that’s a harder thing to cope with. 

My prediction? Like Alteans, Galra can change their appearance (they have no reason to at the moment because they’re the dominant Empire and don’t need to go undercover that we’ve seen). Keith has been unconsciously doing this his entire life, something will happen that throws his control into chaos, we’ll have an episode or two while he adjusts to the full consequences of his heritage, and once he accepts it he’ll reclaim his ability to look the way he is more comfortable with (as the Keith we know). Further predictions, both his mother and father are Galra, his father was just shifted to look human at the point. Further, more mainstream prediction, his mother was the mysterious Galra in the crystal harvesting episode and she’s part of the Galra resistance. 

- No Prince Lotor/Allura, please: apparently was pursuing Allura in the original anime. Now, as much as I would love the Keith/Allura/Lotor “love triangle” to be shifted to a Keith/Lance/Lotor one, and I would really love it, I can understand if that doesn’t happen. That being said I am firmly against Lotor/Allura. Please just let them be childhood enemies or just plain antagonists towards each other. The last thing Allura needs is a plotline where she is just a prize to be won or a woman to be seduced. I get that a lot of men think that’s an “empowering” plotline, and maybe at one point it was, but it has been done to absolute death. One reason Pidge is such a great and revolutionary character is that their gender really wasn’t brought up again after the initial revelation, it never comes up during a fight. Please let Allura’s identity not be reduced down to a love interest, even if it’s by a “bad guy” and therefore a “bad” thing. It's just exhausting at this point. So please, no Lotor creeping on Allura. Just let them hate each other if anything (eventual friendship, now, that could be interesting...)

- No Keith/Allura either - Somewhat feeds into the previous point and is one reason I’d love to see the Keith/Allura/Lotor replaced with Keith/Lance/Lotor, because quite frankly even in this season of not much Klance, Keith and Lance had more chemistry than Keith and Allura. They were literally floating romantically in space, carrying one another bridal style, going through the revelation of the other’s past, etc etc. all things that could be a decent romantic arc and I felt... absolutely nothing. Maybe friendship? It was nice to see them bonding? But there just wasn’t a hint of spark there and I don’t even say that as a shipper. Shiro/Allura seems to have the most actual connection, even with the little we’ve seen I just can’t imagine Keith making a move there with Shiro gone and second, making a move at all. For all of Lance’s flirting, Keith has been pretty self-contained and disinterested if not oblivious to the idea of relationships. Even Pidge and Hunk have at least talked about significant others (Pidge with the “girlfriend” photo misunderstanding and Hunk with Shay had a little something going on, even if it was denied). Keith is an absolute blank on the romance front, and it showed even more in the traditionally “romantic” scenes we saw with Allura. Let’s also mention that Allura could not get out of his arms fast enough, and there was no crush-y blush to go with it. It was pure lack of interest and I really hope they let it stay that way. 

- Better Hunk & Lance - At first I didn’t quite get what people were talking about, since Shiro is sort of my darling and Galra Keith was my favorite theory, I found the season extremely satisfying. But going back to rewatch season 1 I can see, yeah, their characterization got Flanderized to Guy Who Flirts and Guy Who Eats, rather than as the engineer and pilot etc that we got in season 1. The worst culprit was the scene of Pidge’s Galra Prediction Engine. It’s a tired out trope already to do the whole “speak English not Science!” and I rolled my eyes that it was there at all, it’s just bad writing, but that fellow members of the academy like Lance wouldn’t let Pidge finish their sentence was just too much. It would have been better for Hunk, who in season 1 was shown to be extremely intelligent, to finish Pidge’s sentence for them. Hunk and Lance aren’t my focal characters, I think some level of their lesser exposure is just because there is a limited amount of time. Keith had almost no personality or plot in season 1, it’s just the trade off of developing characters and Hunk and Lance got a huge amount of development in season 1. But I do get where their fans are coming from now. I feel like this is an outcry the writers will hear though, I think we’ll get a better story around them next season and this was just a lull to set it up because...

- Shiro disappearing is a big deal - Shiro is literally my favorite character but I was still 1000% ok with his disappearance. First of all, there’s no way he’s dead, if he or any other character does die we’re going to get a really big scene if not an entire episode around it, not just an anticlimactic vanishing. So no fear there. Something is definitely Happening with Shiro. That being said, as much as I love Shiro, the team couldn’t mature with him there any further. Hunk, Lance, Keith, Pidge, etc are going to get their maturation arc against the backdrop of Shiro’s absence, there’s just no doubt about it. He was just too good at his job of being the Space Dad and Leader for them to grow very much on their own, he helped everyone a lot and they didn’t have to go through any sort of painful maturation as a result. Season 1-2 got them through the awkward stage of being kids to being full Paladins, now they have to grow further into those roles without that crutch. Shiro has to grow too, and a lot of his pain is tied up in what the Galra did to him, something he can’t really explore so long as the whole team is protecting him and he’s got people around that he has to keep it together for. So that’s good too for character development.

What we’re going to get is this: Keith is going to be the new team leader, and there will be some friction and growing pains around that. We’ll have a period where they can’t form Voltron, which will hurt their effectiveness. Ideally, rather than Keith becoming the Black Lion pilot (which doesn’t make sense in this iteration of Voltron given the importance of the personalities and bond) we’ll eventually get Allura stepping up. As a bit of a Shallura shipper, I’m thinking she and the Black Lion will bond over missing Shiro and basically she’ll get it to work with her on the basis that it’ll help them find Shiro (cue badass pilot Allura, hell yeah!), which is better than bringing in a new team member. 

On the other side of the story, and this is my perennial angst-writer heart speaking, we’re going to get Shiro in captivity. Him vanishing IMO isn’t just a random accident, so he’s not going to just be stranded on some random planet (after all, that was already the opening of season 2). Almost certainly this is the work of Haggar or the Galra using magic, since no way Black would let someone board and kidnap Shiro. So he was probably transported right off somehow, possibly using his arm as a tracking device. Whatever happened, I’m really, really hoping we get Shiro as a captive again of the Galra. We know a lot of awful things happened to him the first time, but we’ve still only got glimpses. I think we’re going to get what really happened fully fleshed out, it’s going to tie into rescuing Pidge’s family, we’re going to learn more about the arm, and generally we’re going to see Shiro broken down and allowed to be vulnerable in a way that he hasn’t been as a leader of the team (because he hasn’t been able to, which has limited the growth of the character). We’re probably going to get a few episodes next season where Shiro is just missing and we don’t know where he is or if he’s alive. Then we’ll find out how he was taken, where he’s been, what’s been happening to him and if I have my way it’s going to be dark dark DARK.  We’ll also get a lot of revelations of what the Galra empire looks like from the inside, something easier with a POV character situated there. 

- The relationship between Alteans and the Galra is going to be revealed to be much more complex than we thought. Allura is a princess, which means she probably has a fairly idealized view of Altea. I know people are speculating that Haggar is her mother, I find that impossible for the same reason that Thace (sadly) isn’t Keith’s dad (though could be a relative) - even with a disguise, we can expect family members to recognize one another. No, Haggar is someone completely unknown to Allura (but maybe not to Coran?). My money at the moment, given no real information, is that she’s someone lower class, perhaps even a servant or slave, since she willingly took part in the destruction of her own planet, which indicates a serious grudge. Now, with episode 2.2 we saw a queen we thought was evil turn out to be mind controlled by a parasitic artifact, it is possible that Haggar isn’t evil but controlled. However, it’s also possible that she’s a victim of the darker side of Altea and therefore would gladly see it fall and work to that end. 

Zarkon used to be the Black Paladin, so at one point the Galra and the Alteans had a close alliance. My theory is that the Paladins used to each be from a different planet, a bit like the Sailor Scouts from Sailor Moon, and protected the galaxy as a visible alliance of the rulers of those kingdoms before it broke apart. We don’t know what made Zarkon shift, but given the vitriol towards the Alteans, either Haggar influenced it or the Alteans did something we don’t know about. 

Another thing that’s curious is the space mall. We’ve seen a lot of aliens on the fringes being oppressed and tormented, but the Galra have to believe they’re in the right somehow. If we have stability and peace at the heart of the empire, a place we haven’t really seen yet, it would create an interesting moral gray area and beg the question of whether the Paladins and Allura, who has admittedly been disconnected for 10,000 years, are actually on the right side of this war or if they’re just terrorists. Now, given who the good guys are and that this is a kid’s show, it’s unlikely we’ll go far with that line of questioning, but I do find it curious. 

The Galra being more complex than we know is one reason that I just nodded the minute we were introduced to the Galra resistance. Look, you can’t just kill one guy and expect everything to be fixed, even in a kid’s show. There needs to be a structure already out there to substitute in to fix the Galra Empire, otherwise the only method of ending their reign is genocide which I doubt is going to happen either in a kid’s show. So we need rebels who will take over and start the path to peace once the bad Galra leadership is taken out, just like in Avatar the Last Airbender with the good Fire Nation members like Zuko and Iroh. It’s just natural from a storytelling perspective that we’ll get people like the Galra resistance, and Keith being likely descended from members of that resistance (though not recently enough that he was recognized) just brings it full circle.

- I have a feeling the show is going to kick off  with season 3. Season 1 and 2 have given a great proof of concept, it’s a huge success and very well received, they’ve shown they can sustain an A+ narrative. Now we’re getting more Galra Empire, more backstory, more moral gray area. This show is on the route of Legend of Korra and Avatar, so while we have to understand some things won’t happen or be fully explored because it’s aimed at children, we can be somewhat hopeful of themes being dealt with maturely. I for one can’t wait.

[bountyofbeads]

Trump's July 4 extravaganza sets a political trap

https://www.cnn.com/2019/07/03/politics/donald-trump-july-4-military-politics-parade/index.html

"His latest grandiose photo op appears to be a reflection of his own vanity, obsession with crowd sizes, craving for the spotlight, penchant for military hardware and his flirtations with authoritarianism."

"Given that Trump has made his presidency an exercise in self-flattery and has rarely striven for national unity, the omens are not looking great for a heartwarming non-partisan evening."

"As well as indulging his narcissism, the July Fourth event is highlighting his typical profligacy with public money, questionable ethics, a lack of transparency and a measure of chaos in the last minute organization."

Trump's July 4 extravaganza sets a political trap

Analysis by Stephen Collinson | Updated 2 hours ago Jul 3, 2019 | CNN |

Posted July 3, 2019 |

(CNN) - Donald Trump's attempt to make July Fourth great again is turning into an eloquent metaphor for the excesses and polarization of his presidency.

His choreography for tanks on the National Mall, war plane flyovers, his own televised address and a longer than normal red, white and blue fireworks display means that even Independence Day -- for generations a rare unifying moment -- will be politicized.

Instead of the "Salute to America" that he has proclaimed, Trump's critics fear he's really plotting a salute to himself.

His latest grandiose photo op appears to be a reflection of his own vanity, obsession with crowd sizes, craving for the spotlight, penchant for military hardware and his flirtations with authoritarianism.

But from the President's perspective, he's on to a winner. Cries of outrage from Democrats and the media at Trump's hijacking of the July Fourth celebrations will not offend all Americans. For a lot of them, it may be a welcome display of the country's strength.

And by serving as the arbiter of patriotism -- as he did during the controversy over kneeling NFL players -- and as a strong commander-in-chief, Trump is also laying a political trap.

On national TV, he can pose once again as the patriotic and defiant scourge of elites who sneer at the values of heartland Americans -- the strategy he used to win election in 2016 and on which he is banking to claim a second term.

In a pair of tweets Wednesday, Trump hinted that the evening's themes will be closely aligned to his reelection message.

"Our July 4th Salute to America at the Lincoln Memorial is looking to be really big. It will be the show of a lifetime!" the President wrote.

"We have the greatest economy anywhere in the world. We have the greatest military anywhere in the world. Not bad!" he continued in another tweet.

Given that Trump has made his presidency an exercise in self-flattery and has rarely striven for national unity, the omens are not looking great for a heartwarming non-partisan evening.

This, after all, is a President who gave a raging political speech at a Scout jamboree and turned the CIA's memorial wall into the backdrop for a partisan rally the day after he was sworn in.

As well as indulging his narcissism, the July Fourth event is highlighting his typical profligacy with public money, questionable ethics, a lack of transparency and a measure of chaos in the last minute organization.

The actual cost of all the extra security -- a flight time for the aircraft used as Air Force One that is expected to buzz the crowd -- has not yet been released by the White House.

"The American people deserve to know how much of their money the president is spending to turn their July 4th celebration into a de facto campaign rally," three Democratic lawmakers said in a letter to the Interior Department.

In the post-9/11 era, presidents have generally entertained service members and their families at private events at the White House.

But Republican operatives are also handing out tickets to VIPs and donors as well as general admission entry for Trump's speech in the rarified historic air near the Lincoln Memorial where Martin Luther King Jr. orated his "dream." Normally, the spot where Trump's stage stands is one of the best spots to watch the July Fourth fireworks.

WHITE HOUSE QUESTIONS PATRIOTISM OF CRITICS

As with his plan to change Air Force One's livery, the President is attempting to impose his own definition of patriotism and is using the military as a political backdrop -- a familiar ploy.

"The Pentagon & our great Military Leaders are thrilled to be doing this & showing to the American people, among other things, the strongest and most advanced Military anywhere in the World. Incredible Flyovers & biggest ever Fireworks!" Trump tweeted.

The President's repeated veneration of America's armed forces can come across as hypocritical given that he did not serve and agreed with Howard Stern that sexually transmitted diseases represented his own personal Vietnam. He's also not shied away from attacking military heroes for political gain: He can't let go of his feud with John McCain -- even though the Arizona senator, Vietnam prisoner of war and war hero died nearly a year ago.

Though many find Trump's showmanship distasteful, it's often rooted in a shrewd political hunch. Images of the commander-in-chief framed by the Stars and Stripes will go nicely in the campaign video library he is building to help his reelection.

And anyone who dissents -- including media organizations that are his favorite targets -- can be branded disrespectful of the troops and unpatriotic.

"You know what happened July 4, 1776?" White House senior counselor Kellyanne Conway asked a reporter in front of the White House Tuesday. "Because it doesn't sound like you're even talking about the patriotism that undergirds it."

Trump has promised a unifying speech to all of the nation, as if his mere presence at the event was not carving yet another line right down the middle of the country. But when asked Monday whether he was capable of a July Fourth speech that unites all Americans, Trump appeared to indicate he would take the partisan tone that he can rarely resist.

"What the Democrats plan is going to destroy the country and it is going to be horrible health care, horrible health care and everybody's taxes will go to 95%," he said.

The President wanted his own parade

Trump's idea for a big July Fourth spectacular appears to have originated on the Champs Elysees in Paris when he accompanied French President Emmanuel Macron to Bastille Day celebrations.

It may also be a way to placate his festering anger at reports that showed Barack Obama's inaugural crowd in 2008 to be larger than his own. After all, hundreds of thousands of people show up at the July Fourth fireworks, clogging the Mall and surrounding streets.

The President's plans for a vast American parade were confounded by spiraling costs and the logistical reality that the tracks of armored tanks would plow up Washington's roads -- the tanks in Trump's July Fourth display will be on a static display -- but he never let go of the idea of a big patriotic party.

Some critics blanch at the notion of the armed forces brought into Trump's celebration. Retired four-star Army Gen. Stanley McChrystal suggested that the values of citizenship and service could also be observed by honoring Peace Corps volunteers for instance.

"Tanks, planes, they are things, they are not the sinew of the nation," McChrystal told CNN's Jake Tapper on Tuesday.

McChrystal said that US armed forces proved their prowess on the battlefield: "I don't think we need to bring them onto the National Mall to justify their effectiveness," he said.

After a foreign trip in which Trump once cozied up to autocrats like Russia's Vladimir Putin and China's Xi Jinping, his July Fourth parade may set off sinister echoes and raise questions about the optics of military might on the capital's streets.

After all, military parades are a staple of dictatorships. In places like China, North Korea and the former Soviet Union, such displays were as much an instrument of domestic repression as a sign to adversaries of overwhelming military strength.

The military parades and pageantry that Trump also admires in France and Britain meanwhile are hardly a display of current power -- they more often highlight the past military glories of long past colonial eras that are anathema to the values of July Fourth.

[ecotone99]

[RO] Crimson Lines: A Story of One-Sided Infatuation

*Story is below the line* I wrote this to be delivered as a voice over narrative which has been posted on Youtube: https://youtu.be/u-Jl3PPvsHY and want some feedback on this first attempt but don't know where to post. If you'd rather read it, the full story is below the line.

Thanks so much!

______________________________________________________________________________________

It was the dead of winter, and the train station was blanketed by a heavy fog that hung in the sky like a bleak omen. Grace stood at the end of the platform, shivering in her coat, clutching desperately at her coffee-filled mug. The weather wore the mood of a dreary Monday morning, almost perfectly. Grace scouted the perimeter around her, noticing nothing but glib faces donning monochromatic tones to match.

Just as she was about to check out of reality, the quick flash of red flitted by in her peripheral. It was only for a brief moment but enough for Grace to catch a glimpse of the tall, smiling figure, wearing a plush red scarf. She was mystified, somewhat gawking at this mildly handsome young man, 0.46 elegant in many respects, and dressed in black with pops of red. He stood out like a sore thumb - back straight, long legs striding by, and too happy to belong in this world of woeful commuters.

Grace observed for a while longer, watching as he stopped at a small group of men and women - colleagues perhaps? As chatter began to swell from his direction, she couldn’t help but marvel at the warmth in the man’s laugh.

Grace’s heart began to melt. She knew it was silly, but she felt as if gravity was pulling her towards him. It was attraction upon the first encounter - a hopeless, one-sided encounter.

It was about then that the screech of the train, reeled her out of that dreamy haze. There she stood, staring at her reflection in the dirty window of the carriage doors, flanked by many alike - lonely commuters on a Monday morning.

Tuesday arrived in much the same fashion - a chilly winter morning overcast with showers. But something was different, Grace was in high spirits, hoping to catch another glimpse of her new-found interest. She stood in her usual spot, awaiting the man’s appearance. Minutes flew by, and the PA system chimed before Grace realised he wouldn’t be turning up. She scoured the platform, thinking that she’d perhaps missed his arrival. Alas, her efforts were in vain as she sighted the same group of businessmen and women from yesterday, with one very significant exception. Slightly disheartened, Grace clambered on to the train like she had many times before.

The following days proceeded in the same manner - cold, dreadful, and no mystery man. Grace had come to terms with the fact that Mr Radiant was a one-off event, who had disappeared into the void, never to be seen again.

She now had a different kind of angst to face - the butterflies of starting a new job. By Friday, Grace was consumed with nerves over new coworkers, a new office, and new tasks to fulfill. As she sat at the reception, she couldn’t help but notice the stark similarity between the office and the train station. She swore she could have been back at platform - but instead of hurried commuters, it was corporate droids zipping past her, and rather than waiting for the train, she was awaiting her new boss. Grace eased into her seat with another deep breath allowing the monotony of everyday life whisk her away.

After going through workplace formalities, and meeting other fellow new-comers, the HR representative led the fresh meat to the office pool - the lively hubbub of the business. As brief introductions were made, Grace skimmed the room of never-seen faces, until she arrived at one individual, sporting a familiar red scarf. Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to contain her excitement. There - materialised in front of her - was that same radiant man, looking as charming as ever. It was a picturesque scene - he leant slightly on the desk behind, face angled to a coworker - breaking out that same charismatic smile that everyone around seems to gravitate towards. Finally, after a round of rigid and overly formal introductions, Grace had a name for this beautiful, enigmatic being - Jacob.

As Grace packed up for the day, she had come to admit the inevitable - she was insanely smitten with this stranger.

The weekend drew out like the removal of a stubborn splinter. Grace spent that Sunday collecting herself in anticipation for the following week. She’d been walking up and down the shopping mall, running pre-Monday errands. Just as she was about to retire home, something bright caught her eye in a nearby store front. Draped over the mannequin was a long, elegant red scarf - the exact one she had come to know and love. Grace stalled for a while, briefly contemplating the obsessive nature of this potential purchase, before entering the store.

When Monday rolled in, Grace was out the door and onto the platform before the usual morning foot traffic. She was looking forward to the prospects for the week ahead - reminding herself that the eye of her affection was only a mere perk. She let the sounds of the trains coming and going distract her. It was a rather happy morning - the sun was out, the sky was clear, and even the birds could be heard chirping to the fresh, inviting day.

Grace was lost in thought, playing with the tassels at the end of her new scarf, when a male voice approached, “Nice scarf”, he said with a grin, as he held up the same one in his hands. “Grace isn’t it? From Friday?” she blushed, and gave a sheepish yes, before making a comment about how beautiful the red looked through the store window. The two engaged in conversation for a short moment - with Jacob offering words of encouragement at the new job. In those fleeting moments, it was just Grace and Jacob - a world of only two immersed in conversation. Unfortunately, it was just that - short and fleeting. Before she knew it, Jacob had spotted his friends in the distance, said the typical, “I’ll see you around the office”, and that was that.

As she replayed the smouldering grin on Jacob’s face she couldn’t help but smile herself, thinking about the warmth of his aura, and the genuine kindness in his eyes. From a distance, she could momentarily observe him at his desk, the centre of attention - a magnetic force that ropes people in.

By Wednesday, Grace had decided she’d spark up a conversation with him. She knew romanticising their brief exchange would get her nowhere. That morning Grace was plagued by her nervous mind, and in between worlds as to where and how she would ambush him. Just as she’d settled on the office, a hint of red emerged from the corner of her eye. Sure enough, it was Jacob, walking down the steps and onto the platform. Grace braced herself, smiling at him as he walked on by, hoping to make eye contact.

As she watched, Grace couldn’t help but notice Jacob’s strikingly rigid body. His face was contorted with a slight grimace, hands balled in the pockets of his coat, walking stiffly towards her. Grace’s smile began to wane as he neared. His eyes were stormy, hair dishevelled, looking straight past her. He clearly didn’t want to be bothered. Grace held her breath as he bounded on by, taken aback by the unusual hostility in Jacob’s stance. “It’s okay,” she said to herself, “everyone has bad days once in a while”. She glanced over to Jacob who’d now reached his friends, smiling once again, as if what she’d seen before was an optical illusion. She wondered to herself, and then passed it off as a bad mood.

Lunch at the new workplace was generally quiet, with the office split into groups that would eat at various cafes and street vendors downstairs. The break room was Grace’s haven, a small place away from the crowd where she could read undistracted. As she flipped to the next page, she heard the approach of an angel’s voice. “Nice book, are you on to the next one yet?,” Jacob asked.

For the second time this week, Grace thought she was walking on clouds - not only did they have a true common interest. In that single encounter, Jacob had lent her the next book in the series, meaning a follow-up conversation was warranted, and a blossoming friendship highly likely.

When Grace finished the book, her immediate thought was to return it with interesting talking points lined up. She wanted to impress Jacob, to engage in meaningful topics that would ultimately further this infatuation into something real. Though the next few days lulled by without remark, Jacob was nowhere to be found at the train station nor at work. A week of absence, and Grace couldn’t help but wonder if anything had happened to him. Despite this, she kept the book in her bag, waiting for the right moment.

It was Thursday when Jacob reappeared - another unusual day of sun and joy. Grace was late to the platform that day, making her way to the foot of the steps as she caught the silhouette of that tall, elegant figure. Here it was, a perfect backdrop to the opportunity Grace had been replaying in her mind. As she got closer, she reached into her bag, feeling the weight of the book, like the weight of her nerves. She reached in, drew it out, like she did with her heart and soul, ready for presentation.

Grace tried to steady herself as she counted down from three, two ---

But as the train rounded the corner, a loud screech pierced her ears, breaking her concentration, followed by an ear-splitting scream.

Confused and disoriented, Grace looked up to an awkwardly stopped train, and masses of horrified faces. A gut-wrenching feeling sat in the pit of Grace’s belly as she eyed her way down

- there, beneath the train was the spill of bright crimson, splayed onto the tracks, seeping into the knit of that all-too-familiar red scarf.

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