#and yes of course it was in the southeast

[gxlden-angels]

I don't know how many of you watch/listen to Belief it or Not but I love his concern about a USAmerican pastor bringing a gun on stage for a message cause my old pastor openly bragged about being armed all the time

[llumimoon]

Every time I draw Scary internally I’m going she’s not white to ME!!!

[kashilascorner]

quick i need help. my whole dissertation i had a question in which i based the investigation on. however i had no hypetheses. the conclusion of my dissertation led me to pose one hypotheses. So all and all, my dissertation has a question and the dissertation's hypothesis is the dissertation's conclusion so do i explain to the tribunal that this is basically preliminary work for a future investigation (which i won't do because i won't pursue an academic career) and i'm not sure if that's valid for a master's thesis or do i try to hide the fact thus leading the tribunal to believe i have no conclusions/results on my work

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

[zedecksiew]

DECOLONISING D&D

In 2019, after seeing yet another round of alarmist discourse in Xwitter about how Dungeons & Dragons is FULL of COLONIALIST tropes and patterns, and needs to be revised, SCRUBBED of its PROBLEMATIC FILTH---I rage-tweeted this brainfart:

"Decolonising D&D"

I've seen this thread round the community, since. Humza K quotes it in Productive Scab-picking: On Oppressive Themes in Gaming. Prismatic Wasteland quotes it in Apolitical RPGs Don't Exist. Most recently, it was referenced in a 1999AD post about Western TTRPGs (an interesting discussion on its own merit; one that already has a counterpoint from Sandro / Fail Forward.)

If folks are still referring to it five years later, maybe I should give the thread a little more credit? Perhaps the fart miasma has crystalised into something concrete.

In the interest of record / saving this thought from the ephemerality of Xwitter, here is the text in full, properly paragraphed, and somewhat more cleanly expressed:

+++

"DECOLONISING D&D"

Firstly: saying "D&D is colonialist" is similar to saying: "the English language is colonialist".

If your method of decolonising RPGs is to abandon D&D---well, some folks abandon English; they don't want to work in the language of the coloniser. More power to them!

For those who want to continue using the "language" of D&D---

Going forth into the "wild hinterland" (as if this weren't somebody's homeland);

to "seek treasure" (as if this didn't belong to anybody);

and "slay monsters" (monsters to whom?)

Yeah. There's some problematic stuff here, and definitely these aspects should make more people uncomfortable.

But! I think it is an error to "decolonise D&D" by scrubbing such content from the game.

That feels like erasure; like an unwillingness to face history / context; like a way to appease one's own settler guilt.

Do you live in the West? Do you live in any Asian urban metropole? White or Person of Colour(tm)---you are already complicit in colonialist / capitalist (yes, of course they are inextricably linked) behaviour. (I can't speak for urban metropoles elsewhere, but I bet they are similar centres of extraction.)

Removing such patterns from the TTRPGs you play might let you feel better, at your game table. But won't change what you are.

I think it is more truthful and more useful NOT to avert one's eyes from D&D's colonialism.

The fact that going forth into the hinterland to seek treasure and slay monsters is a thing, and fucking fun, tells us valuable things about the shape and psychology of colonialism. Why conquistadors in the past did it; why liberal foreign policy, corporations, and post-colonial societies do it today.

Speaking personally:

I write stuff that evokes / deals with the context I'm in---Southeast Asia. An intrinsic part of that is looking at the ways colonial violence has happened to us---as well as the ways / reasons we now, supposedly free, perpetrate it on others.

A long chain of suffering. Heavy stuff.

I also write for people who want to have fun / kill monsters / pretend to be elves, of course. But for those people who want to consider serious stuff like colonialism: I offer no FIGHT THE POWER righteousness, no good feeling, no answers.

Only discomfort. Because the truth is uncomfortable.

Here's a screenshot of the Author's Note for Lorn Song of the Bachelor:

"Any text inspired by Southeast Asia has to reckon with colonialism ... This text presents a difficult situation; there are no easy solutions. "... If I offered a mechanical incentive for you to fight colonial invaders, you wouldn’t be making a moral decision, but a mercenary one. "The choice you face should echo ... the kind of calculus my grandparents faced."

I stand by that.

Also: might we be more precise and more careful about using the term "decolonising", please?

Here I quote Tuck and Yang's landmark and (sadly) still trenchant "Decolonization is not a metaphor":

"Decolonization brings about the repatriation of Indigenous land and life; it is not a metaphor for other things we want to do to improve our societies ..."

+++

Further Reading

So this post isn't just me reheating a hot take, here are some touchstone writings from around the TTRPG community about colonialism as a subject and mode of play in games:

+

"Jim Corbett was called upon to hunt down another fifty maneaters over the course of the next 35 years. Together, those tigers had killed over 2000 people, for much the same reasons as the Champawat Tiger - injury, desperation, starvation, and habitat loss. Would you look at that. The root cause was British colonialism."

D&D Doesn't Understand What Monsters Are from Throne of Salt

+

"Another effect of having colonizers in my setting would be giving players the opportunity to drive them away from the islands, their home. This maybe just be for the catharsis. After all, isn’t catharsis a big part of why we play roleplaying games?"

I’m Adding Colonizers To My Setting from Goobernut's Blog

+

"When you have a slime boy and the other characters are a really fat lizard and one's playing Humpty Dumpty, it completely shatters the straight-faced serious authoritarian illusion of race, and replaces it with complete fucking nonsense. I love the idea of proliferating the number and types of "races" into absurdity, to the point where the entire logical structure of it collapses in on itself and race as a category ceases to become coherent or meaningful in any sense."

Interview with Ava Islam - Designer of the RPG Errant from Ava Islam / The Lost Bay

+

"Perhaps most critically, the fundamental basis of power is not land or even money but manpower. That’s what local rulers fight over, and what Chinese commercial networks export, in return for unique island products. It’s what the European colonists really need (even if it’s not what they most desire). There is rich loot to be grabbed in the form of spices, Spanish silver, Indian gold, sea cucumbers (the Chinese love ’em), perfumes, dyes, cloth etc. so there’s ample opportunity for piracy, trade and smuggling, but the key to long-term success – the key to independent survival – is nakedly and unquestionably uniting people."

Counter-colonial Heistcrawl: previous high scores from Richard's Dystopian Pokeverse

+

"They worked their own land—which they dispossessed from American Indians—or became small shop owners or opportunistic gold diggers or bounty hunters or itinerant ranchers. To me, substituting these situations for one ruled by industrial monopoly ignores that the Wild West is a perfect example of how capitalism operates outside of (or prior to) mass industry, instead being composed of self-employers and self-sustainers."

Fantastic Detours - Frontier Scum from Traverse Fantasy / Bones of Contention

+

"... using the Western framing and D&D's baked-in imperialist and capitalist structure to get people earnestly participating in the experience of forming imperial power structures and the early roots of regional capitalism ... The PCs aren't the drifters on the train or the townsfolk watching with apprehension - they're the railroad itself."

An Arrow for the General: Confronting D&D-as-Western in the Kalahari from A Most Majestic Fly Whisk

+++

[trueloveistreacherous]

This is the first of 20 shows Girls5eva has booked throughout the Midwest and Southeast. Boy, it's hard to believe I'm even here, given the start I had in life. One day there will be a biopic, and yes, of course I'll play myself. From birth, goo-goo, gaga, to death. I think there's a bomb on the yacht! Renée Elise Goldsberry as Wickie Roy in season 3 of Girls5eva (2021-present) created by Meredith Scardino

[rookie98writes]

Tell Me Again

Part of the ANBU Series Prev → Next

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, mild dubcon (power imbalance), degradation, oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, spanking, vaginal fingering, (very light) ass-play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, possessive!Kakashi, POV reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: Kakashi finds himself in an uncomfortable situation after his authority is called into question.

AO3 Link

Following closely on Kakashi’s heels, you hurried through the corridor with your teammates at your flank. The Hokage had summoned Team Ro for an urgent mission, but so far, that was all the information you had. It must be something highly classified if the ninja who’d delivered your summons hadn’t been informed of its contents.

The door was closed when your team arrived. Kakashi knocked and announced your presence. “Team Ro, reporting for duty, sir.”

The Hokage’s voice answered from inside. “Come in.”

Kakashi opened the door and entered first, followed immediately by Tenzō. You were right behind them, and when you entered, you were surprised to find not only Lord Hiruzen, but the leader of the Root faction of ANBU, Danzō Shimura.

You’d heard some dark rumors about him, but you’d never really seen proof of any of it. His high standing with the Hokage was also a point of confidence in his favor. Still, you didn’t like the way both Tenzō and Kakashi tensed as soon as they crossed the threshold. It wasn’t the way a shinobi would stand at attention while being addressed by a superior. There was an undercurrent of discomfort…and wariness.

“Thank you for getting here so quickly,” Hiruzen said, either not noticing the strange tension or choosing to ignore it. “I’ll get right to the point. I need the four of you to assist one of Root’s squads.”

Kakashi responded with the barest of nods. “Sir.”

Danzō stepped forward. “A few of my soldiers have been attempting to assassinate a man who poses a threat to the Leaf. Originally, we planned to do it quietly of course, but my team hasn’t been able to find an opening. We need a diversion to separate some of the man’s guards from him.”

“And we’re to be that diversion?” Kakashi answered, sounding less than pleased with the situation.

“My men are led by a shinobi under the codename Hinoe,” Danzō continued without acknowledging Kakashi’s question. “He will give you the orders when you arrive. This map will show you how to get to their location.”

Danzō held out a scroll that Kakashi accepted and opened immediately. As he looked over the route, Lord Hiruzen cleared his throat. “Memorize that and leave it behind,” the Hokage requested. “And Kakashi?”

“Yes, Lord Hokage?”

“The Root squad is taking the lead on this. I trust that you will defer to Hinoe’s command.”

Professional and cool as he was, you still noticed your captain bristle. “Of course, sir.”

“Well, no time to waste,” Danzō announced. “It shouldn’t take you more than a day to reach them. Better get moving.”

⁂

All told, the journey didn't take as long as expected. The team was making extremely good time—almost like Kakashi wanted to prove that he was better than the Root director’s prediction.

The destination was a small farming village in the southeast region of the Land of Fire. Neither Danzō nor Lord Third had explained exactly how the man in this village was threatening Konoha, but it was not your place to question the mission. 

Upon arriving at the destination, Kakashi directed the team to stay out of sight until contact with Root was confirmed. You, Tenzō, and Yūgao trailed behind your Captain in the shadows as he clandestinely searched for the man Danzō had described.

Finally, Kakashi gave the signal for the three of you to come out.

Hinoe was a tall man, with dark, messy hair and a large build. From what you could tell, he was a bit taller than your captain, but the hood of his cloak was up, so your judgment wasn’t perfect. He wore his porcelain mask, which resembled a tiger. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt like you could sense his appraising gaze as he took a pause before allowing your team into the Root squad’s hideout.

They had set up in an abandoned building not far from the center of town. The way the Hinoe explained it, there was currently a small faction in the process of overtaking the village to control production and distribution of their crops with the larger goal of negotiating for power within the Land of Fire. Many of the farmers who had resisted had been killed, leaving behind a village that was more of a ghost town. 

“Alright.” Hinoe put his hands on the table in the center of the room, where they had a few scrolls laid out. “You know what you’re doing?”

“We’re here to assist under your command,” Kakashi answered diplomatically. “We were told that you need a distraction to split your mark’s defenses.”

“Be easier if I knew what you could do.”

Kakashi gave Hinoe a brief explanation of the abilities and strengths of each member of Team Ro so that the Root Captain would know how to best utilize the reinforcements. Hinoe nodded and seemed pleased to hear that you were medically trained. Apparently, the shinobi in Root were better trained in inflicting damage than healing it. Although that was generally true for all branches of the Leaf’s shinobi forces, it seemed to you like Root was neglecting a key area of shinobi knowledge.

Still, not your place to question.

“According to the intel we’ve gathered, we should have a good chance to attack tomorrow,” Hinoe continued. “You guys rest up, and we’ll fill you in in the morning.”

It was obvious that Kakashi felt Hinoe was already underestimating his squad, but he bit his tongue and deferred to the other captain, just as Lord Third had requested. “Anywhere in particular you want us to set up?”

Hinoe shrugged as he gestured to a closed door. “That room’s empty,” he smirked.

Kakashi led you, Tenzō, and Yūgao into the room without a word. You were sure that your captain would have rolled his eyes if he’d thought Hinoe was worth the energy.

The room was a decent size, but that only made it more obvious just how empty it was. Instead of furniture, you found discolorations on the floor where any furniture used to be. Tenzō shut the door and sighed. “Yeah, that’s about what I expected.”

“Do you think the place was looted in the coup?” Yūgao asked.

“That’s a possibility, but I think it’s more likely our comrades out there already took anything useful for themselves.”

“Good thing we came prepared.” Yūgao scoffed as she set down her pack with her bedroll. “I’m just gonna say it—these guys already seem like assholes.”

Some might say being an asshole came with the territory when talking about shinobi. While a lot of ninjas had reputations for their ruthlessness on the battlefield, you knew most of them to be decent people. But you also knew there were shinobi who thought their rank gave them some kind of privilege, particularly among the members of the Foundation. And with these guys, Yūgao’s assessment seemed right on the money.

“Remember, we’re just here to help them finish what they haven't been able to accomplish on their own,” Kakashi stated. “Let’s just keep our heads down and get the job done. The sooner we do that, the sooner we leave.”

⁂

Not even a day later, you were headed back. But not to Konoha; no, you were rushing back to the hideout, keeping a lookout for any enemies that might be following you. Kakashi was in front of you, carrying a wounded Hinoe on his back; one hand covering the deep gash in the Root commander’s leg to keep from leaving a trail of blood.

As soon as the three of you made it inside, Kakashi tossed Hinoe onto the nearest futon while you secured the door.

“Fuck!” Hinoe shouted, grasping at his leg. “You fucking idiot!”

“Me?? Are you kidding?!” Kakashi spat. “I'm not the one who went in without securing the area!”

“Oh shut up, Friend-Killer,” Hinoe sneered as he removed his mask. “You’ve got no room to talk.”

Kakashi tore off his porcelain mask and tossed it aside. “I told you not to go in like that!”

“Well you're not in charge here! And I told you we needed to bring one of the men in alive. The fuck were you doing electrocuting everybody?!”

“The situation was getting out of control,” Kakashi seethed. “It’s called defending my squad.”

“It’s called defying my orders! And after this report goes to the Hokage, you won't have a goddamn squad.”

You watched their shouting match from the corner of the room, too uncomfortable to take another step. With their masks gone, the rage in their eyes was fully visible. But at Hinoe’s last comment, you saw Kakashi step back; a different kind of rigidity in his stance that made you want to come to his defense, even though that would only make things worse.

It was true—Hinoe had ordered Kakashi to capture the insurgent leader’s right-hand man. But the plan had fallen apart from the jump. Hinoe had gone off-script and rushed in, sparking a fight that almost immediately devolved into chaos. And with Konoha’s joint forces separated into three-man units, there was no one but you and Kakashi to salvage the situation.

Outnumbered nearly three to one, the situation looked dire—until Kakashi stepped in with his signature jutsu and saved all three of you from being killed…or worse.

He was a one-man army; the strongest shinobi in the Leaf by a mile. Yet Hinoe’s influence with Danzō could ruin him. 

“Oi, Medic.”

You quickly turned your head from Kakashi to Hinoe, worried that you were now the subject of his ire. If he could ruin Kakashi, he could make it like you never existed in the first place.

“Yes sir?”

Hinoe gestured to his leg, indignantly drawing your attention to the deep gash and the blood stain that was soaked into the fabric of his pants. Your eyes flashed back up to his impatient face. “Gonna do something about this or not?”

“O-of course.” You made your way over to him and knelt down beside him, focusing your healing chakra and channeling it into the wound. Maybe, if you could heal him quickly, his anger would diminish and you could save Kakashi some aggravation.

Hinoe shifted his weight, sharply sucking air through his teeth at the sting of your chakra. Groaning, he leaned forward until his face was nearly pressed into your neck. When he breathed in again, you could feel the air being pulled into his lungs.

“Hmmmmm. You smell good…” He inhaled again, then audibly gnashed his teeth together right by your ear. “Good enough to eat.”

You stiffened at his unexpected, inappropriate behavior. The chakra flow in your hands stuttered enough for him to notice. Instead of taking your reaction for the discomfort that it was, he smirked.

“Think I could use someone like you,” he smugly chuckled. “Sure Danzō can arrange your transfer.”

“That’s enough.” Kakashi was suddenly standing behind you with his hand on your shoulder. The shock caused your chakra flow to completely stop. You looked up at him, but his fierce gaze was locked onto your patient. “The bleeding has stopped. I take it you’ll survive.”

Before the other man could respond, Kakashi pulled you to your feet and led you to the other room, slamming the door behind him.

“Captain Kakashi—”

“Do you want that?” he barked, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Want what?”

“Reassignment.” He gritted his teeth. “A new captain.”

A new captain? The idea sent your stomach into your throat. “No!”

Kakashi relaxed his fists, but still held his inflexible posture. “No?”

“No,” you pleaded. “You’re my captain. I want to stay with you.” 

For the next second, he just stared at you—both eyes open. You’d seen Kakashi use his Sharingan in battle, but you’d never had it trained on you. It was invasively hypnotic, making you feel beyond exposed; like you’d been stripped not only of your clothes but your skin as well.

“Tell me that again.”

His words were delivered with as much authority as any other command he’d given. But when you complied, you responded more to the hint of vulnerability that he hadn’t been able to hide.  “I want to stay with you, Captain—Kakashi.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “That’s what you want?” You nodded, and watched that vulnerability in his eyes be replaced by relief, then quickly replaced again with hunger. “Show me.”

He pushed you down with his full strength against your shoulder, forcing you down to your knees in front of him. His eyes were both dark and piercing as he looked down at you. “Show me how badly you want to stay with me.”

Your breathing turned shallow as your gaze shifted to his lap, where his deft fingers worked to free himself. Saliva gathered in your mouth and your heart hammered against your ribcage. You couldn’t help but want him, but in the back of your mind you wondered if this was the time or the place.

Holding his half-hard dick in one hand, Kakashi extended the other and put two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up.

“Eyes on me, Y/N.”

He lined the head of his cock up with your waiting mouth, using his grip on your chin to pull you slowly forward. “Eyes. On. Your. Captain.”

Who were you kidding? Time and place didn’t matter to you. Only Kakashi did.

You nodded and started licking at the veins on the underside of his cock as he forced himself deeper. “That’s it.” He took his hand from your chin and placed it on the side of your head. “Show me what you're willing to do to make me keep you around.”

Kakashi watched as you worked your way further and further down his long shaft, keeping your eyes wide open and trained on his face. The taste of the sweat on his skin filled your mouth. He was still warm and worked up from the fight, and the sharp scent of him had you feeling tipsy and impatient. You wanted to press your nose against his skin and worship him any way he wanted you to.

Eagerly, you used your tongue to spread your saliva over your lips, easing your journey forward. You let the head of his cock slip into your throat, relaxing your muscles and taking him to the hilt, despite how big and overwhelming he was. Your desire for him had you pliant and accommodating, getting you exactly where you wanted to be.

“All the way on the first try?” he cooed. “Such a whore.”

Pink heat dusted your cheeks and you glanced away. He reached down and grabbed you by the front of your neck. 

“Hold it. And keep looking at me,” he demanded. “Look at who you're on your knees for. Don’t you forget.”

You locked your eyes back on his face, swallowing around him and taking a deep breath through your nose for a fresh hit of his scent.

“That’s my girl.” His thumb pressed into your throat, forcing your muscles to tighten. It triggered your gag reflex and left you choking and sputtering around him. Through it, you fought to keep your eyes on his, blinking away the building tears.

“Take it, Y/N. That's right. Mmm, you're doing so good for me.”

Drool leaked out of your mouth and ran down your chin. Your lips trembled at the base of his dick, stretched to their limit and begging to move. But he held you still, just watching as you submitted to him.

He smiled behind his mask and tugged you forward by his continued hold on your throat. “You want more room to move?”

You hummed in agreement, but the sound was lost in a wet, garbled mess.

“Maaaa, you should have said so.” Kakashi chuckled and released your neck, pulling back just enough to give you space to breathe. “Go on. Be a good girl and suck until I cum.”

You immediately craned your neck forward to slide your lips all the way down to his pelvis. His cock twitched in your throat and you gagged again, but you grabbed his thighs for stability and bobbed your head back and forth, searching for a tenable rhythm.

“Fuck, you don't even care if you choke on it,” he moaned. “Such a little slut. You'll do anything to make my cock feel good.”

Kakashi put his hands on either side of your head, holding you in a rather gentle contrast to the way his hips thrust back and forth.

“I'm the only one you're this good for, aah? I’m the only one you're such a desperate slut for.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and blinked up at him, letting the vibrations in your throat tease him as you licked and sucked.

“That's it.” Kakashi indulgently sighed, letting his head fall back and his shoulders slump. “Keep sucking, baby. Only for me.”

You dug your fingers into his muscular thighs, bobbing your head along his full length to be sure you stimulated every inch. Even though he had broken eye contact, you still looked up at him, hoping he would praise you for continuing to follow orders.

Not to mention, the man was just absolutely gorgeous—selfishly using you for every ounce of pleasure and self-satisfaction you could provide, feeding both his sex drive and his ego. Seeing him in the throes of losing himself drove you out of your mind with lust. You were confident enough in your rhythm to take one of your hands away from his leg and tuck it between your own, touching yourself for some much-needed relief. But no sooner had your toes curled than Kakashi grabbed your upper arm and pulled your hand away from yourself.

“Don't,” he growled. “That pussy is mine. Don't you dare touch my property.” You whined, but he took no pity on you, instead tangling his hands into your hair on either side of your head. “That little clit isn't getting touched until you make me cum.” Kakashi tugged your hair as he started pistoning his hips into you. Your hands both desperately grasped for his thighs again. “Your Captain gets off first this time, Y/N,” he huffed. “I’m your Captain. You do this for me, and me only.”

His hands held you firmly in place, a vise you couldn't escape from as he thrust into your mouth faster and deeper, barreling against the muscles inside your throat with no regard for anything but his own pleasure—staking his claim.

“Only I get to fuck this pretty face.”

He started using his grip on your head to pull you in to meet his thrusts, his pelvis colliding against your lips and leaving a mess of spit glistening in his wiry silver hairs. You watched him through the tears in your eyes. His face was redder than it had ever gotten from sparring or training. Kakashi was focusing all his energy; all his frustration into using you like it was your only purpose to offer him relief.

Suddenly, he whined out as you felt sticky, salty fluid coat the inside of your throat. Kakashi’s fingers dug into your scalp to trap you tight against him. You gagged, shocked by the sheer volume of it, dripping down your throat and blocking your airways.

“Swallow it,” he gasped. “Fucking swallow it, Y/N.”

The pulse at the base of his cock beat against your lower lip. He twisted your hair around his fingers and held your face against his pelvis as another spurt joined what you hadn’t yet managed to handle. You felt a fat tear roll down your cheek as you swallowed yet again.

“Good girl. Don't waste any. Swallow it all.” His shoulders steeply rose and fell as he worked to catch his breath, even as the last drops of his cum still wept into your mouth. “Don't you dare stop until I tell you to.”

His image was blurred through your watery eyes, but you were determined to hold eye contact while you drank his cum and watched him come down from his high. The tight creases around his eyes softened as the tension he'd been carrying all day finally subsided. Even as he began to soften in your mouth, you continued to gently work your tongue over him. You didn't want to overstimulate him, but his order was clear.

“Alright,” he panted, “enough.” He held your head in place and carefully pulled his hips back. The skin of his dick was flushed pink and sensitive, but that didn't stop you from wanting to lunge forward and cover him in kisses from knees to navel.

It seemed your attention had wandered from where Kakashi wanted it. He tugged upward on your hair just enough to bring your eyes back to his. “Stay right where you are.”

He raised an eyebrow in warning, then let go of your hair, watching to be sure you would obey. As a display of your loyalty, you made sure not to move a muscle.

Kakashi grinned, then grabbed the pillow off his bedroll and tossed it on the floor beside you. He kicked it to bring it a little closer to where he’d been standing, then knelt down on it. He tucked his calves beneath him and settled down with his muscular thighs forming a nearly flat surface. Then, grabbing you by the hair, he yanked you over his lap and bent you forward, arranging you across his thighs with your ass in the air.

“We’re not done. Once isn’t gonna be enough this time.” Kakashi tugged your shirt over your head with one hand and shoved your pants and panties down with the other. His hand rubbed a circular pattern over your exposed ass. “Clearly, I haven’t left enough of a mark on you.”

Kakashi drew back his hand and brought it down on the round flesh of your ass, a loud SMACK resounding through the room. It wasn’t exactly a surprise—what else could he have been planning in his position? But you jumped just the same, your nails digging into his leg.

“Hey.” He grabbed your wrists and held them against the small of your back, one crossed over the other. His left hand held them together while his right resumed its smooth motions over your tender ass.

“Now you’re going to count for me, so I can see how many times I have to spank you before my handprint is permanently on your ass.”

There was no time for you to respond before his wide palm collided with your ass again, hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “O-one.”

“Mmmm, that was actually the second one, Y/N. Try again.”

He spanked you again, his hand landing in exactly the same spot. You winced, but the arch of your back gave away just how much you enjoyed it. “Th-three.”

“Much better.”

Another harsh spank to your ass had a high-pitched whine tumbling from your lips. You bit down to try to stifle it, used to Kakashi expecting you to be silent. Instead, he tightened his grip on your wrists and tugged backward to strain your shoulders. “Did you lose count already, stupid girl? Guess we’ll have to start ov—”

“Four!”

“Good girl.” SPANK.

“Five!” SPANK. “Six!” SPANK. “S-seven!”

He took a break, instead choosing to grope your other butt cheek. You felt his weight shift as he leaned over for a look at you. “Hmm, I think I’m starting to see it.”

After his assault, you couldn’t believe that there wasn’t a bright red imprint nearly covering your butt. Whether he was telling the truth or not, he still slapped his hand down on the sensitive flesh.

“Aah! E-eight…”

“Eyes up.”

You turned your head and looked at him through fresh tears. His hair was falling wildly over his face, his gaze piercing you like white-hot iron.

“I want an even ten,” he stated. “Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Captain Kakashi.”

“Good girl. Two more, right? Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

He hummed his approval before bringing his palm swiftly down on you, the sting making you clench your butt cheeks together. You sharply gasped but remembered your job. Panting through the delicious pain, you continued. “N-nine.”

The word was hardly out of your mouth before he repeated the action. Your sore body hadn’t expected the blow. Your back arched again, and the sound that came out of your mouth was completely pornographic.

“AAAH!! Ten!”

Kakashi released your wrists. “Look at me.”

You put your palms flat on the ground and turned to face him. His right hand resumed rubbing soothing circles over your ass, while his left hooked under your chin and pointed your face up toward his.

“My pretty little crybaby,” he smiled. “You did well. I think you deserve a reward.” He slid his hand down enough to stroke his finger between your legs. You shivered at the delicate touch while he laughed. “What's this little hole doing dripping like this? You get this wet from sucking my cock and getting spanked?”

Heat pricked your cheeks. Kakashi was exactly right, and he knew it. His index finger slid into your cunt with absolutely no resistance.

“Such a fucking whore,” he growled. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“T’you, Kakashi.”

He pushed his middle finger in with the index. “And who am I to you?”

“M-my captain…”

“That’s right. And, what’s your job?”

“Follow your orders,” you moaned. “Do whatever you say.”

“What a good little subordinate you are.” He pumped his fingers faster, angling his knuckles to scrape over the spongy area behind your clit. “Just for me, right?”

“Yes!” you cried. “Yes sir!”

His thumb gently circled the puckered flesh of your asshole. “I bet you’d let me in here too, wouldn't you? Little slut. Oh yeah, you’d just love it. Letting your Captain play with all three of your pretty holes on the same day?”

In truth, it wasn’t something you’d ever really been interested in before. But if that was what Kakashi wanted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He chuckled darkly. “Maybe another time.”

Kakashi put you back up on your knees, then extended his own legs in front of him. You snuck a glance between his legs where his dick was half-erect again already.

“C’mere.” He gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap, your legs folded behind you and your back against his chest. He still wore his black undershirt, but you could feel the heat emanating from his body. Kakashi put his knees between yours and used the leverage to force yours apart, spreading your legs and giving himself access to your core.

“That’s better.”

His left forearm came across your chest, holding you against him while the fingers of his right hand glided through your folds. He spread your wetness over your skin before plunging his middle and index fingers directly back into your heat. “Pretty cunt’s so wet for me,” he teased, shifting his hips and pressing the tacky, velvety skin of his satisfied dick against your lower back.

“Hmmm, just sucking my fingers in, aren’t you?” Kakashi teased. “So eager. I’m starting to think you might like me, Y/N.”

You blushed, sure the color was spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and down to your toes.

“Is that right?” he mockingly cooed at you. “You have a crush on your Captain?”

With the merciless way his fingers were abusing your most sensitive spots, you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to. Thankfully, Kakashi seemed more interested in dragging more broken whimpers from you than your confession. At least, not that confession.

“Tell me it feels good.” Kakashi groaned into your ear, rubbing tight circles behind your clit as the heel of his hand crashed against your swollen nub.

With a self-conscious whine, you dropped your head back onto Kakashi’s shoulder, grinding your hips into his hand. “Feels good…” you panted. “S-so good.”

You gripped onto his biceps as an anchor. The muscles were flexed and firm, his full strength keeping you plastered to his chest as he pumped his fingers in and out, scissoring them and stretching you to the point of tears again.

“Mmmm, filthy girl. Getting fingered by your Captain like a common whore. Making a mess.” Kakashi started pistoning his fingers faster and faster, obscene squelching noises coming from between your legs as your arousal slicked your entrance and his long digits. “But you love getting treated like a little slut, don't you? Love being my personal toy.”

Tightness built in your lower stomach, more insistent and urgent than you were used to. Mindlessly, you grabbed for his wrists and threw your hips forward, chasing the relief that was just out of reach while Kakashi continued to taunt you.

“You want more, yeah? Go on. Beg for it.”

“Please! Please, Captain…”

Kakashi forced a third finger in, his callused fingertips stimulating you from inside while he pressed the rough heel of his hand into your clit. “You wanna cream all over my hand, don't you? You want me to make you cum? Cum with three of my fingers stuffed in your pussy? Gods, you're such a fucking slut for me.”

You cried out, grinding against his coarse skin and feeling that tightness focus into one point of scalding pressure that suddenly released in a flood of endorphins. You came with a high-pitched squeal, your muscles clenching down as wetness gushed from between your legs. The sensation left your body sagging against him, boneless and docile.

Kakashi carefully pulled his hand away from you, showing you the shiny mess dripping along his forearm. “Dirty fucking girl.” 

The orgasm had felt different, but…squirting?! You’d never done that before—you didn’t think you were actually capable of it. “I-I…”

He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you enough to maneuver his hips and position his—shockingly somehow even harder than before—fully erect cock between your legs. He spread your fluids over himself, making his cock shiny and slick before rubbing it against your sensitive sex. You squirmed, and he panted the most self-satisfied moan into your ear.

“Where d’ya think you're going?” he laughed, securing his left arm around your chest again. “You said you wanted to stay with me.”

“I do—”

He shut you up when his blunt cockhead barely pushed into your hole. “Then hold still and let me have my fun.”

“K-Kakashi…”

“C’mon,” he growled. “I’m your captain, and I’m telling you to take it.”

Kakashi’s cock bullied its way between your soft folds, filling you in one stroke. You moaned as he grabbed your hips and pulled you deeper onto him until your ass was pressed into his hip bones hard enough to leave imprints. He moved his right hand to rub the last of your fluids over your clit, circling it as he started sliding you up and down his shaft. Despite the fact that you just squirted all over his arm, having him inside you just felt so good, you instinctually rocked back and forth over him, searching for even more. 

“There you go,” he smirked. “Now more. Bounce on it.”

He started running his hands all over you, first smacking your flank to speed you up, then grabbing at your thighs, your waist, finally gripping your breasts and squeezing as you found the strength in your legs to work yourself up and down his dick.

“Your perfect tits, fuck.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers and began slamming his hips upward to meet your warm, wet insides. “These are mine. All of this is mine.”

“Yes—” You panted, your tongue lolling out of your mouth at the euphoric feeling of being filled and toyed with by the only man who would ever make you feel this good. “Aah, more…more please…”

“That’s it baby. Moan at how good I make you feel. Moan loud enough that that asshole comes in here and gets a good view of you. Being so needy—ruining yourself on my dick, fuuuck.”

Kakashi planted his feet and started drilling into you, not giving you a chance to consider the consequences if you were to be caught. In fact, consequences be damned—the idea of getting caught riding your captain didn’t sound so bad at all.

“Aaaah…Kakashi!”

“Maaaa, I’ll let him see. I’ll let him get one good look so that he never forgets how gorgeous you look when you get fucked. And that he can never have it. Because I’m the one you want. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yes—K-kashi…”

“Mmmm I can tell. Such a tight grip on my cock. Your greedy pussy doesn't want to let me go.” Kakashi put his hand under your navel and pressed, until the bulge of his cock stood out prominently against your stomach. “You feel how deep I am?” he grunted, thrusting away and rearranging your guts. “How deep inside you I am?”

“Fuck, yes…I’m gonna—”

“I know, Y/N. I wish I could show him how pretty you look when you come apart. I could let him watch, but that feels a little too much like sharing. And I don't share my fucking things.”

He drove his cock into you, offsetting your gasps and groans with the wet plap plap plap of his balls bouncing off the backs of your thighs. 

“This little hole belongs to me. And anyone else who wants it is gonna have to stick to fucking their own hand. Because all of this is for me.”

“Kakashi!”

“I want you to cum. Wanna feel your pretty little cunt squeeze down on me.”

“Haa—ah!” You renewed your grip on him, holding on for dear life as another orgasm rushed its way through your nerves.

“Fuck, cum on my cock, Y/N.” He rubbed his coarse fingers over your clit again; no longer teasing but demanding. “Cum, now. I’m not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You tumbled over the edge, shouting praise and profanity like there was no one around for miles. But you just couldn’t help it. There was no feeling you could compare to the way Kakashi made you feel. Even as he kept pulling your body down onto his dick, bruising you from inside, using your trembling walls to find his own high, you only wanted more and more of him.

“Don't stop,” he panted. “Don't stop. Fuck you get so tight when you cum. Don't fucking stop.”

Suddenly, Kakashi adjusted his hold on you to push you down onto your stomach, ass in the air and cheek pressed into the bare floor. He climbed over you like an animal, spearing your stretched-out hole, pushing your gummy walls aside to accommodate him.

“Haaaaaa make your Captain cum. That’s a good girl. That's my good little cocksleeve.” He kept one hand on your hip, making sure you stayed propped up for him while his other held your face against the ground. “Oh you’re not going anywhere. You're gonna stay with me and take this cock whenever I tell you to.”

“Yes!! Captain!!”

The new angle let him reach even deeper, every inch of his cock burying itself in your quivering pussy. Every time he bottomed out, his balls swung forward and bounced off your clit. You could only hear his skin slapping against yours, his throaty groans, his desperate gasp when his cock started throbbing inside you. You moaned and whined beneath him as you prepared yourself for him to finish and fill you with another load.

He grasped you with both hands on your waist, turning and tossing you down on your back. He slid out of you in the process, and you mewled at the unexpected empty feeling. Instantly, he was hovering over you; leaning down with one arm rigidly propping him up and the other wrapped around his edged, impatient cock.

“Again—” he panted. “T-tell me you—hah…”

His dick was red and twitching in his grip. You weren’t sure exactly what he was asking you to say, but you were happy to take your best guess.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, reaching for him and wishing you could pull him down and kiss him. “I want to be yours. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y/N—” Your name escaped his lips in a wavering sound that was probably mortifying for him, but to you, it was the greatest sound you’d ever heard. His eyes locked onto yours a second before he finished, tugging down so hard that the taut skin of his cockhead was impossibly shiny as he came. The first rope forced out with so much power that it reached as high as your chin, then splattered down over your clavicle and dripped between your tits. The next pulse was only a fraction weaker, leaving a gooey white stripe from your breastbone to your navel. His hand pumped a few more times to spill a thick pool of cum on your tummy.

He’d made an absolute, filthy mess of you. But you didn’t feel filthy. You felt sexy and ecstatic and satisfied and irresistible. And the look in Kakashi’s half-lidded eyes only sweetened the entire thing.

“There…” Kakashi exhaled as his eyes roamed over you, enjoying the view of your skin coated with his spend. “Now the only thing that asshole will smell on you is me.”

► masterlist

[elbiotipo]

What would be the main differences between a template forest and a tropical jungle for fantasy? I guess that things like iron armor pieces would never become a thing since historically they weren't popular in other hot climates, winters without snow might be less feared but summers with big floods might be more worrisome? I guess that cuisine and farming would also be massively different although I don't know exactly how.

Out of the top of my head:

Equatorial climates are notoriously stable, since it's always the same day lenght there are no seasons, especially if you live near the ocean which estabilizes the temperature. You will get dry and wet seasons (and sometimes even hurricane seasons) depending on particular geographic conditions

Tropical/subtropical climates often have harsher seasons the farther away from the ocean they are, but never snow (that's the difference actually; temperate climates can get snow, subtropical can get frost but not snow, tropical neither). So yes, in general in a tropical or subtropical the main difference between seasons is rain, and perhaps frost which does play a role in some plants like citrics. Rainforests, of course, get it all year, subtropical forests have dry and rainy seasons. You can see a mixture of both: in my home (Northern Argentina) we do get marked winters with ocassional frost, but the main fact is that they're dry compared to summer.

ANYWAYS. Cultural stuff! Yes, one of the main differences you will find is clothing. It's difficult to make generalizations, but overall, tropical cultures just wear less, if there is armor at all. Don't get mistaken and say that it's because they don't have metallurgy, though, it's just that metal armor is indeed heavy, hot, and not much use if the opponet isn't wearing anything either. At most, you would see padded cloth armor (cotton mostly) or hide/leather at most. If you look at soldiers from, for example, Mesoamerica or Southeast Asia, you will find little armor.

Similarily, while you can go wild with noble clothing and colors, and the preferred materials are indeed cotton or silk, you will find very simple clothes among the general population. To give you an idea, here's a sample of Aztec clothes (including armor!)

Note how simple and lightweight they are, even for rulers. They are colorful too (the artist, Daniel Parada, has more pictures like this for other cultures based on historical records) but although tropical enviroments might seem to have greater access to dyes, medieval european did also have dyes, often not as vibrant as carmine though.

Farming, of course, affects cuisine. I think that instead of thinking about a "pan-tropical" farming, we could analyze this by centers of origin of crops:

From Southeast Asia we got soy, several types of beans (or Fabaceae if you wanna get technical), all citrics, mango, banana, pear, cherry,, but this pales in comparison to rice, of course. Rice defines the tropical and subtropical diet of Asia, being what wheat is to the Mediterranean. Rice cultivation is particular in that is labor extensive, much more productive by area compared to other crops (so smaller plots) and requires extensive irrigation, resulting in complex managed enviroments.

From tropical America we got manioc, squashes (all sorts of curcubita actually), beans, peppers, pineapples, papaya, so much more, but it's especifically from Mesoamerica we got corn, and from the Andes we got potatoes. Potatoes are key in cold climates. Meanwhile, the corn-beans-squash trio, that is known in North America as "three sisters" and in Latin America as "milpa" is spread all over the continent. These three kinds of plants are very adaptable to tropical and subtropical conditions, and combined are very productive.

I will admit that my knowledge about tropical Africa is less than ideal. There are native species of rice that can be found in Western Africa, Ethiopia has traditionally grown barley and sorghum (and is the home of coffee), and millet, like corn for the Americas, seem to be widespread.

As for spices, tropical areas do seem to be blessed with spices, this is true. I recommend this guy to tell you about it. Hell, I recommend his channel in general.

What IS a common theme, regardless, is that jungles are NOT pristine enviroments or wild enviroments untouched by human activity. Jungles have been managed, in overt ways (like for example, rice cultivation) or more subtle ways (planting domesticated species inside the forest) for thousands of years. This is also done by controlled burns, conscious planting, or even accidental things, like, for example, peoples settling in a place and bringing domesticated plants to that place that then grow semi-wildly.

THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING TO TALK ABOUT BECAUSE EVEN IF I STUDY THIS EXACT THING, I HAVE NO REAL DEFINITION OF IT YOU CAN SEARCH. You can find about this phenomenon of "humans managing and changing forest enviroments" by lots of terms, like agroforestry, silviculture, and so many more. The term I use is "landscape management" (no, not "landscaping") where a "landscape" is a term for an enviroment were both humans and natural factors build it (like I said, there is no thing as "pristine nature" ALL natural enviroments have been managed and modified by humans, and you can find evidence of that in tropical America, Asia, and Africa).

In fact, the reason why those enviroments seem "natural" and unchanged to Western views is precisely, because tropical cultures often use wood and adobe to build structures (if they have them at all), which don'r preserve well at all. But also, jungles are fast growing and often eat everything, remaining, interestingly, these subtle domestication and managment efforts in what once were thriving settlements.

Which doesn't mean you haven't tropical cultures to study. THERE ARE PLENTY. You got, like I said, the whole of tropical America, tropical Africa, and tropical Asia and Oceania. It is getting very difficult to me to generalize, and yet, one can see some similarities.

Since this post is general enough, I encourage you to ask more about what you want. What would you like me to focus on?

oh, and you can throw me a tip, if you want! Sorry for selling out, but I'm living under an insane libertarian president right now, so every bit helps!

[moerusai]

Do you think you'll feel comfortable posting your non-spolier thoughts on the movie? I hear Bas and Tong gave truly stand out performances.

Of course! It's a gorgeous movie that gets better with every rewatch. There is so much going on. Everybody is hiding something!

I don't think anyone is prepared to see Apo as Khem in his golden costume and koi eyeliner. Every time he appears on screen, I'm silently screaming into my fist. LOOK AT HIM I-

And, yes! I can attest that Tong and Bas are phenomenal. I think them and Khun Wichien's actor deserve nominations for Best Supporting Actors at all the awards.

And as I've said before, Mile's performance as Chat is something that makes every rewatch better. All those microexpressions are given a new meaning as you realize what he was concealing.

As a Southeast Asian, I was also incredibly proud to see elements of our shared culture represented in the movie. In fact, I meant to write a primer before you watch Man Suang about practices I recognized and have researched on, so everyone can appreciate them too 🥹.

GAH I'M JUST SO EXCITED TO FINALLY TALK ABOUT IT AND READ ALL THE META THAT'LL COME OUT. GOD I NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN. I NEED TO SEE CHAT HOLD KHEM'S WAIST AGAIN.

(oops that's a spoiler. but everyone knew about it so, lol)

[ruibaozha]

From what I understand, your advice is that we shouldn't stick to just one version of a story or consider it the true version. And that a story has several versions. And these versions do not make one less than the other. Like, we can choose one version of the story as long as we understand that there are more versions.

Hello!

Yes this is precisely it. It’s very easy to assume that one way a story is told is the only valid version, but it also neglects how it historically was shared and retold - regardless of if deities are involved. Of course people are allowed to express favoritism, myself having moved from Wuhan, I prefer Wuhanese storytelling.

Did you know there’s roughly 360 different types of regional Chinese Opera that coexist? And with such a large variation in a specific area of performing arts, there’s bound to be more variation in nearly anything else.

Myself and the study of Nezha/Nalakubara has led me down many many different rabbit holes into how he was spread across east and southeast Asia. He appears in India, China, Taiwan, Macau, Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Kazakhstan, Tibet, and very likely many other places I have yet to know. It would be very ignorant of me to assume the Chinese Daoist method of worship to be the only acceptable kind - and downright shameful to dismiss how other countries worship him.

It’s a lengthy answer, but I hope I was able to convey my feelings and personal thoughts properly.

[preciousbarnes]

Promises | Part 1/3

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: When your parents are murdered in cold blood, you turn to the most feared man on the east coast for answers.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: Violence, discussion of murder, graphic scene, hurt/comfort (it was a murder yall, its not pretty but I dont think I described it too graphically), Google translate used for the Russian, mafia themes.

You found yourself in a dark and quiet bar tonight, the smell of top shelf liquor and cigar smoke prominent the second you walked through the door. You were anxious of course, but anyone with a shred of common sense would be nervous about meeting the one known as the Winter Soldier. At least, you hoped to talk to him tonight. You slowly approached the bar, remembering the code your father had once told you, in case you ever found yourself in this position.

“Я ищу зимнего солдата” you softly say to the bartender, earning a subtly surprised expression. I’m looking for the winter solder, you had said.

The bartender sets down the glass he was drying, and walks away and through a back door, which you’re certain leads to the the office of the man you seek. After a few moments, the bartender returns, followed by a tall, blonde man. He was strong, all muscle, his face serious but had an undertone of friendliness. You were unsure if it was genuine or not. You never can be sure about mobsters, despite how kindly your father had always spoken of the Winter Mob. Especially now, that your family had been wronged so brutally.

“What is your business here, miss? We don’t see many women around these places,” He says, voice smooth like velvet, carrying the whispers of a Brooklyn accent.

“Mr. Barnes knows my parents. They’re the owners of the bakery on the corner of Southeast Avenue. Something happened, and I need to speak with Mr. Barnes. I need answers.” You say, voice surprisingly stern even though your insides felt like they were shaking like a leaf.

Once you mention the establishment your parents ran, the tall blondes eyes light with understanding.

“Ah yes, your parents are very good people. We know them well. You must be their daughter. If it is truly something serious, please, follow me,” He says, stepping aside as he holds the door for you. You walk down a long and dimly lit corridor in silence, being led by the man. This is when you notice the weapons strapped to his hips. He is dressed in the mobs characteristic all black clothing they were known for, with two guns, one on each him, strapped to him. He also wore a shoulder holster, holding a smaller pistol and two knives. He looked lethal, but had surprised you with his professional but friendly manner.

As you get closer to the door at the end of the hall, you hear the soft tones of jazz coming from inside the office, a deep and quiet hum accompanying it. The unnamed blonde knocks softly, before opening the door.

The office is also dimly lit only by a small desk lap. There were stacks metal file cabinets around the room, holding what you were sure to be decades of files on everything mob related you could imagine. The Winter Mob was known for their organization and wide depth of knowledge. The floor was a deep, rich wood, the wallpaper elaborate and stunning. Everything about the office screamed luxury.

At the desk in the center of the room sat the most dangerous man on the East Coast. Bucky Barnes, head of the Winter Mob. He wore a fitted black suit, with a black dress shirt as well. His hair was short, and he had a slight stubble on his jaw. He was a handsome man, but for every bit he was handsome, you knew he was also deadly. You involuntarily shivered at the thought of all he is involved with, and now here you were, on a mission for information.

He looked up, eyes taking you in, trailing over your face, then down your body, and back up before he spoke.

“What can I do for you, doll? Bad boyfriend you want taken care of?” He asks in a deep voice, with a slight chuckle, already making assumptions about you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a young woman had come to him for help getting out of a relationship. Little did you know, he always helped in those situations, for no cost. He was raised to respect women, to cherish them. Whenever he could, he would help women get away from men who didn’t understand that.

“No, Mr. Barnes. You know my parents. You helped them with a loan, to keep their bakery afloat. The little one on the corner of Southeast Avenue,” You explain, hoping that he will know who you’re talking about. You know he works and helps a lot of different people, so it’s hard to say if he will specifically know your parents. All you can do is hope.

At the mention of the bakery, Bucky gives a small but honest smile.

“Yeah, I do. They make the best cream puffs on this side of the U.S, I swear. How are they?” He asks you, as he leans back a bit in his chair.

“They’re dead.” You say, voice breaking on the word ‘dead’. It was still a raw wound on your heart, and still difficult to say out loud. It still felt like you were in a bad dream.

His visibly shocks Bucky. His eyebrows furrow together and his jaw drops open slightly.

“What?” He asks, softly. Unknown to you, since you were mostly away in the big city working, Bucky really loved your parents. He thought they were good, honest people. He himself stopped in twice a week to visit, always ordering a small black coffee and two cream puffs. Your mother and father reminded him of his own, who he dearly missed. It was a shellshock to him to hear the two were gone so suddenly.

His blatant shock surprised you. You really thought he knew. How did he not?

“You mean, you didn’t know? I thought it was one of your goons who took them out?” You ask, confused.

Bucky and the blonde man who had led you in snorted in slight laughter at you calling his workers and family “goons”.

“Steve, will you grab the ledger book for her families loan for me?” Bucky asked, thanking the blonde who you now knew was Steve as he handed a thin bound book over to the boss.

“Doll, come here, I want to show you something,” The boss called to you, beckoning you over with a motion of his hand, as the other flipped through the pages of the small book, before coming to the end of the writing in the book.

“See here? Their debt was paid back in full to me, two years before the deadline I had set. They’ve had me paid off for a while now. They swore to me I’d see my money back, with interest, and they kept their promise to me in full. I’d have no reason to put a hit out on them, and I never would,” The mobster told you, a surprisingly soft and gentle tone contrasting his strong and tough exterior.

“I- I don’t understand. I thought surely, they must have been behind on the loan, or made you angry somehow or something. I just wanted some answers. Who- who killed my parents?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes. You thought you had originally had at least part of the answer, being who was responsible, and now you didn’t even have that.

“I don’t know, doll. But we’re going to figure it out,” He promises you, confusing you once again. This man was full of surprises to you.

“Why? Why do you want to help me?” You ask him. When you ask, he looks to you with a fire in his eyes.

“They were family. No one gets by with hurting family, doll,” His voice tells you, a dangerous edge to it.

The mafia boss quickly tells Steve to pull his car around for you both after learning you had gotten to their bar by bus. As he waited, he asked a bit about you. He wanted to know where you were staying, to which you told him the hotel. He was satisfied in knowing it was one he secretly owned. You told him about your job in New York, which you had taken a leave of absence from to come home to Brooklyn to figure this out. He nodded as you spoke, listening as you watched him grab his gun from his desk drawer, loading it before putting it in the holster strapped to his hip. He then grabbed his wallet, thick with cash you could clearly see making it bulge, shoving it in his pocket. You both turned to Steve when he returned, telling his boss the car was ready, before leading you both outside.  

You both climbed into the Escalade, Steve opening and closing your door for you. After you’re both buckled in, he begins to drive.

“Where did it happen?” He asks you, eyes focused on the road.

“Their home, off of 56th street, if you turn here, you’ll want to-“ You’re suddenly cut off.

“I know where it is, doll, your mother was sweet enough to invite me and the boys to dinner a couple times. A sweet woman, she was,” He told you, voice sounding like silk as he fondly remembered the meals and memories he shared with your parents. They had been good to him, and his closest family members; the boys who were part of his administration, the top level of the mob, the ones he worked with the most.

“I didn’t realize you all were that close?” You question, still surprised.

Bucky sends you a kind smile, not bothered by your confused and uncertain tone.

“Your parents were good people. Kind people. Nothing like the company we usually keep. They just needed help, and we were happy to help them. For our assistance, they made sure we knew how grateful they were, which isn’t something that happens for us often. Most are afraid of us, but for some reason they never were. We respected that.” He tells you, his own respect for your parents clear in his tone.

“They really meant something to you,” You conclude, still seeing a hint of sadness in his voice where he had to use past tense when talking about your parents now.

“They did. They treated me like their own, which I’m sure you know how good that is,” He tells you, voice soft again.

You smile sadly, nodding. Your parents had been so good to you, always your number one fan. To know they had been good to a mobster too, having hearts full enough to see past the tough exterior and treat Bucky’s family like their own, made your own heart swell. They really were good people. You were blessed to have come from them, but that made you want justice for them even more. They didn’t deserve the fate they had been given.

You both pulled up outside of their small home. It was modest, but charming all the same. A small brick two-story house with white shutters. There were small window boxes hanging off of each window, holding flower beds your mother had planted little wildflowers in, a beautiful bright contrast to the brick building. There was police tape surrounding the property, with an officer stationed outside on the porch.

Bucky puts the car in park, parking behind the police car out front. As he unbuckles, he turns to face you, surprised to see you also unbuckling.

“Doll, stay here, I don’t think you’ll want to see this,” He commands, voice not leaving room for argument. You’ve always been stubborn, so you argue anyway.

“I want to come with you, Mr. Barnes. I deserve to know. I want to see it too,” You plead with him.

He sighs, taking in your stern tone and resiliency clear on your face. He nods begrudgingly.

“First, call me Bucky. Second, okay. But, don’t say anything to the officer, and do not touch anything, okay?” He orders you, earning him a small smile and a nod from you.

You both get out of the car, walking up the sidewalk, only to be stopped by the officer.

Bucky quickly pulls out a wad of cash, silencing the officers demands for you both to leave. Pocketing the cash, he holds the police tape up for you and Bucky to crouch under to enter the property. You pull out your key to your family home, unlocking the door and moving to walk in the door until Bucky stops you.

“Let me go first doll,” He tells you, making you step back to let him enter first.

The first thing you notice is a pungent smell of iron hitting you both. You grimace. You hadn’t been told much by police, only that it had been quite a gruesome scene. The medical examiner had already informed you that you would have to have a closed casket service, and had advised you as gently as possible that it would be best if you didn’t see their bodies in the state they were now in. It hurt your heart. But all of that still didn’t prepare you for the scene you both saw in the living room.

Blood was everywhere. The floors, the walls, the couches, the curtains. It was obvious there had been a struggle from the trail of blood around the room. The room looked like a scene out of a horror film. In the center of the room laid a large and sharp knife, also covered in blood. In the light, gleamed an inscription you couldn’t make out. Bucky crouched down next to it for a closer look, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. Sobs wracked your body, vision blurring from your tears. You hug your midsection, wishing for comfort. It shockingly comes.

Bucky stands from his couched position in the middle of the room and strides back over to you, carefully wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, дорогая” He whispers in your ear, holding you close to him as your head comes to rest on his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. Sweetheart is what he called you. His voice was also heavy with emotion, hating the scene in front of you both. It was a scene of two people who had fought hard, but nevertheless had a horrifying and painful death.

“I think I know who is responsible,” He informs you, after your tears slowly come to a stop, now just enjoying the comfort his strong arms brought you.

“You do? Who?” You timidly ask, fearful of hearing who could have done something so violent, so horrid and animalistic, to people as sweet and kind as your parents who wouldn’t hurt anyone for anything in the world.

“His name is Zemo,” His voice darkly tells you, taking your hand and leading you out of the house and back to the Escalade.

Part 2: Coming Soon

[sadlynotthevoid]

WAIT—

Fairy Tail x LCF crossover AU where Gildarts and Jour are cousins.

This is, of course, in an AU where both worlds are one and the same. Earth Land is the name of their world and Fiore and the other kingdoms/places are located in a southeast part of the Eastern continent that limits with a commonly known dangerous part of the ocean. So, people don't usually go there unless they're already in the Eastern continent— or they live there and, therefore, are just used to it.

Then, maybe, when Gildarts was young he and his family went on a trip to the Eastern continent but he somehow got lost and ended up in Fiore. And when he finally found his way back to his parents, they were already gone (I mean dead, they are dead. No, they didn't abandoned him). So he decided to go back to Fiore to that nice guild he stayed in before.

Many years later, one Cale Henituse (the original one, of course), appears at the guild's doors asking the girl working in the bar for "a redhead man around his forties, probably tall. I think his childhood nickname was Gil".

The loud "wait! Are you Gildarts' illegitimate child?" exclamation that Natsu let out shocked everyone so much that the ongoing fight on the background stopped dead. Elfman fell face to the ground. Levi almost ripped off her book. Gray almost tripped into Erza's cake. And Cana—

Cana choked with her beer. Does she have a sibling?

After a short explanation that let even more questions than before, she learned that no, she doesn't have a sibling (not as far as she knows, at least). She does, however, have a cousin and a lunatic running wearing her second uncle's body (wtf??? That's creepy).

Hearing the newbie's story (yes, he was one of them now. No, she did not ask), Mira called the Master, who called Gildarts, who told them that he would be there in a week.

Meanwhile, why don't they start with his tutoring? After all, they can't have a member that can't use magic, can they?

This is before TBOAH timeline goes south, btw. And it won't. Cale has an army of crazy, loud, bamf magicians by his side.

[bethanysnow]

Breakeven.

Prt 1.

Bang Chan X Plus Size Reader. Fluff mild angst. Slow burn?

The news broke that V from BTS's stalker was apprehended. The fact that someone got so close sent shock waves through the major companies to up security. Guards for even the groups that didn't have a major following, it felt incredibly necessary. Keeping the artists behind closed doors like hamsters in wheels and a very colorful and elaborate cage. The studio Stray Kids though did the majority of their work for their latest mixtape was across the street from a cafe. The road was mainly foot traffic and standing there on the concrete pavement was a woman with a guitar.

A foreigner. As divisive as that word is in South Korea, that's what she was...singing in English songs from a while back. Breakeven by The Script, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. This heartache verbalized in the cry of the street. She bowed quietly with the smallest smile if people tipped her, that's at least what Chan noticed from his tower. Yes, the great tower of the unmarked building in the middle of the city. No one knew he was there, nor what the building was. Everyone below him just too busy with their own day to notice. He was grateful for that, but he found himself wanting to be amongst the people. Be there, go grocery shopping, go to a cafe. Exist in the cosmos of the cosmopolitin. So, looking out of the window of the studio he watched this woman. Living vicariously through her. He could hear her if he tried really hard with the window open, but most of the time it was when he snuck into the building he could hear.

Felix was setting down his things in a chair before seeing his friend deep in thought, not moving a muscle, just looking out the window. Walking beside him the blonde followed his eyeline to the girl.

"You know you can go say hi-"

Chan jumped not noticing the new presence slamming his hand over his heart. "Ah!-oh, hi...I dunno what you're talking about..." Brushing the comment off. Felix just raised a brow.

"You stand here and what...stare at her? Man, that's creepy- you wear a mask and a hat and go over. Say Hello"

Chan just shrugged. That was the thing with Bang Chan. With his life experience, the thing he never wanted was to be hurt like he was in the past. To suffer again the things he did getting here. There of course are other things, but when you are in this life it's far easier to make up stories about the driver, the barista, or grocery delivery person? Then to actually...know them. For then they could leave and you would be left alone. Parasocial relationships go both ways remember? So Chan for the first time in a while has had the time to look at the same girl and imagine. Imagine her life, why was she in Korea? Why did she always sing sad songs? Maybe she was a student and this is how she made extra money, or was stranded here and needed to find funds for a plane back home. Or just she liked singing.

So many questions and thoughts and contemplations on the idea of a person, a person he didn't know. While he and Felix went actually into the studio to work he couldn't get her off his mind.

~~

Y/n though was very busy at work. It was hard to get people to notice you when you're in a larger body. At least notice you for the right reasons, notice the voice, the talent (as if). Southeast Asia had the beauty standard of a pin and people paid millions of dollars to fit it. The clothes, the almost infantilization of women? 'Cutesy' shit that made her skin crawl, she could dress like an idol, speak the language fluently, get her hair done at those fancy salons that give you tea; wouldn't be enough. So Y/n decided not to participate. She would sing, play guitar, and let that be the reason she was content. Be understood and heard through music. A couple months out of the year she visited a cousin who lived in Busan for work. Taking a week or so to visit Seoul it was her mission to live. Experience everything she could. That included what she normally did back home, just...here. Where Y/n would sing in front of a Starbucks or a dunkin, or dutch bros really whatever mall adjacent location would allow her to get a set in. Finding a cafe who agreed to let her perform on their property she set up. She just knew this wasn't a hot spot for tourism so felt comfortable in her ignorance if someone made comments she wouldn't super be able to understand them.

So she sang. Song after song not noticing at all the peering eyes from the man a floor above her.

Where Chris was watching. Dreaming of what she sounded like when she laughed, if she had a boyfriend or if he really should say hi to her...fate would have to decide as the rest of 3racha filed into the studio.

And so.....fate did decide.

~too be continued

[southeastasianists]

The story Southeast Asia likes to tell itself is that, by the late 1990s, it had something like its “end of history” moment.

By 1999, the region was free of colonialism, with the last push made by Timor-Leste, which that year held a referendum to throw off Indonesian imperialism. With that development, the region’s national borders appeared to be finally decided and revanchism, although it was still voiced on the fringes, had ended. 

All Southeast Asian countries, except Timor-Leste, were members of ASEAN. Communist Vietnam and Laos were stable and internationally accepted. Anti-communist tyrants like Indonesia’s Suharto, Burma’s Ne Win and Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines had either resigned or been ousted. 

And the worst crimes of the Cold War-era, including the Khmer Rouge genocide in Cambodia, were not just over but there was to finally be some sort of justice. In 1999, the holdout Khmer Rouge leaders finally surrendered and Ta Mok, its former army chief, was symbolically arrested by the local authorities. 

Today, however, Southeast Asia finds itself trapped by history. 

On the one hand, it became evident in February 2021 that not all of 20th-century history was over. The military coup in Myanmar that month awakened many to the reality that some elements of the pre-Cold War period had not been solved. 

Indeed, Myanmar has been trapped in the early 20th century since independence from Britain in 1948. Whereas all other Southeast Asian threw off their colonial powers and then resolved their internal battles over what form of government would follow, Myanmar did not. 

Myanmar as outlier

Anti-colonial struggles are conflicts against a foreign aggressor and civil wars at the same time. It is not enough to claim self-determination; it must be determined what sort of self you want once free. 

The partition of Vietnam was both things at once. Many historians date the Cambodian Civil War as beginning in either 1967 (with the Samlaut Uprising) or 1979 (with the Lon Nol “coup”) but those same political schisms were latent, though blanketed, under Nordom Sihanouk’s regime that ruled after independence. 

The People’s Power uprising in the Philippines in 1986 was essentially the answer to the question — constitutional or personalist rule — that was posed when the country gained independence from Spain in 1898, and, indeed, was the internal debate within almost all of José Rizal’s writings. 

But Myanmar never went through this process — or, rather, successive military juntas never allowed the question to be seriously explored. The 1962 coup effectively froze in time the question of self-determination of Myanmar’s myriad ethnic minorities, a remnant of colonial rule.

In two ways, Myanmar under the military remained a colonial holdout: The Bamar center colonized the ethnic periphery and the anti-colonial struggle was never allowed to fully run its course. The cataclysm of the 2021 military coup appears to be the event that will finally bring this historical question to a proper solution. 

The answer offered by the anti-junta movement, centered on the National Unity Government, is a revolutionary federal state, in which Myanmar maintains its same territorial borders but vastly more power and autonomy is given to the ethnic areas, while at the same time the national army, a product of anti-colonialism, will be dissolved and something (perhaps a network of militias) will take its place. 

The junta’s answer, the same that its predecessors offered, is devolution based on the permission of a central authority, implemented through peace talks. The problem with this answer, as has been the case in the past, is that it is dependent not upon rules or laws but the whims of whichever general is sitting in Naypyidaw, so essentially yet another delay in answering the post-colonial civil war question.

Yet, for now at least, according to some hopeful observers, the forces of revolution are prevailing over the forces of reaction in Myanmar.

Baked-in crisis

Alas, the rest of Southeast Asia seems unwilling to accept that a historical reckoning must happen in Myanmar for there to be any progress. 

One can put aside the fatuousness of permitting Myanmar entrance into ASEAN in 1997 before those civil-war conflicts were solved, yet ASEAN still doesn’t accept that by doing so it institutionalized those conflicts into the regional system.

In other words, by accepting Myanmar into the ASEAN bloc, the rest of the region (perhaps) unwittingly accepted a share of responsibility for solving those historical conflicts. This point is still not appreciated by ASEAN in its continued insistence that the solution to the current crisis is to return to a point in time: the status quo ante. 

Yet, even if that return was feasible, which it isn’t, ASEAN would still be left with the situation of Myanmar’s 20th-century conflicts sparking another similar crisis at some point in the future. 

ASEAN is, therefore, trapped in apparently thinking that Myanmar is unique in that it won’t have to go through the same bloody processes that the rest of the region did — a final reckoning of post-colonial civil wars — and clearly thinks that the region’s responsibility is to forestall, not assist, this process.

On the other hand, Southeast Asia is also in a history trap of believing that the post-Cold War era is still alive. 

It can be fairly said that the region, aside from China, was the biggest beneficiary of the world order left after the collapse of communism in Europe. A cursory look at how the region has developed economically, culturally and socially since 1989 is enough to make that argument. 

But what should we call the period between 1989 and, roughly, 2019? The “Chimerica Era”, that chimera when the United States and China thought they could get along and when the West thought that Beijing was playing by the same rules? Or, perhaps, the “Inter-Cold War Era?”

Nostalgia not enough

In any case, that period is now over. Yet, Southeast Asia’s leaders still think that they can deny its disappearance by repeatedly stating their opposition to what has come after – a “New Cold War” – as if denying something’s existence makes it not exist.

They hold onto the hope that Washington and Beijing will finally see sense and agree that because things were much better for all in the 2000s that should be their shared vision for the future. 

If there is a purpose to “hedging”, it is presumably to play both superpowers off against one another to extract the most benefits. Yet the downside is that you make yourself dependent on both sides, as has been the case: As a share of overall ASEAN trade, the United States and China have taken on a larger, not smaller, percentage in recent years. 

Hedging, as manifested today, is to take both sides, rather than to take neither side. That is problematic, to say the least, if there is a possibility of both sides going to war, when you will be forced by events outside your control and at a time not of your choosing to decide which side to take.

None of this is unreasonable from an emotional level; it’s only natural for Southeast Asian leaders, by 1999, to have been jubilant that the horrors of the 20th century were over and that their societies could finally have the stability to become prosperous – thanks to the Inter-Cold War Era. 

It’s only natural to want the good times to continue. Sadly, they’re over and the world is once again a far more unstable and unpredictable place, including in ASEAN’s northwest. Nostalgia for times past will only get you so far. 

David Hutt is a research fellow at the Central European Institute of Asian Studies (CEIAS) and the Southeast Asia Columnist at the Diplomat. As a journalist, he has covered Southeast Asian politics since 2014. The views expressed here are his own and do not reflect the position of Radio Free Asia and RFA sister organization BenarNews.

[f1ghtsoftly]

I’m becoming suspicious of the entire concept of indigeneity and I wonder if there is a better framework to protect the lifestyles of indigenous peoples without also, backwardly, supporting the weird race science of who is indigenous to where and when. Am I indigenous to Ireland despite never setting foot there? Are jewish people indigenous to Israel? Are the descendants of slaves, indentured servants in the southeast-who’ve lived off the land for 400 years not indigenous? How many years does it take? 100, 500 , 1000? What seperates

Not only are these uncomfortable questions, I think they’re mostly a waste of time. I struggle to see a moral difference between a white person who loves the land they grew up on and endeavors to protect it, and may have been there for generations already, and an indigenous person. Of course, governments and our economic system treat those people differently but claiming indigenous people have some woo woo magic ties to the land is uh…I don’t know it strikes me as a modern version of the noble savage trope. This doesn’t even factor in that most indigenous people were subject to forced relocation multiple times so a tribe could be headquartered in the Dakotas or Oklahoma now but they’re originally not even from that area. That doesn’t even count historical, more voluntary, migrations of peoples which occurred during the Pre-Columbian period. I’m open to being schooled on this but I have a suspicion I’m onto something.

I think one’s relationship to the land-not blood quantum is what counts. Do you love your home and are you trying to protect it? Do you see god in the hawks and the rushing rivers? Or do you only see what you can extract and make profitable.

I’m also suspicious that this concept of indigeneity is really compatible with Marxism. I would turn to Marxist, Leninist and Stalinist discussions of Nationalism and it’s utility for more information, I might return to this post to do just that but certainly, this idea of “being indigenous” is not an economic relationship, it doesn’t describe one and in that way….I think

This isn’t at all to delegitimize the struggles against, my intention is to clarify in order to root out grifters. The real work indigenous people do everyday to fight against the destruction of their homes and to try to preserve their traditions and escape the persecution of a government that wants to force them to be assimilated workers without place or culture is good. An international network of indigenous people doing that is great and it’s a benefit of the concept I’m critiquing. But the issue isn’t “the oppression of indigenous people” as like a static, blood determined identity, the issue is proletarianization and the resistance by peoples not yet subject to capitalism’s social discipline. There was once a time when my ancestors were “indigenous” too and they were thrown off their land and forced into the factories to work or starve. The land taken became playgrounds for the rich to turn into magnificent gardens and hunting, meanwhile the peasants of Europe starved and choked to death in factories, their means of subsistance robbed of them.

What is the oppression of indigenous people if not forced proletarianization? What separates the boarding school from the workhouses or homes for wayward mothers? How does settling differ from enclosure? Temporally yes, in brutality maybe but not in motivation. The forces that starved my ancestors in Europe are the same forces that killed the Buffalo to starve the plains Indians and the same forces that tried to “kill the Indian and save the man”.

Indigeneity as a blood inheritance and not a social position/of perspective also opens left wing peoples up to the justifications of ethnostates, ethnic cleansing and settler colonies based around this decidedly immaterial thing called “being indigenous” which is easy to manipulate without staying in line with the principles that I believe this concept is supposed to convey and leaves out potential allies from the fight.

Anyways, I’m going to amend this tomorrow but basically indigenous is a social positon relating to a refusal to become assimilated into capitalism and not a racial or ethnic category.

[sadienita]

Where Stray Kids Would Take You in Seoul - Maknae Line

Jisung - Suyeon Mountain Tea Room (수연산방) and Bukhansan National Park

Bukhansan is the tallest mountain in Seoul and sits to the north of the city. It is surrounded by a national park and has a number of different trails that can be walked or hiked. Seoul also holds a number of traditional tea houses, Suyeon Mountain Tea Room isn’t far from Bukhansan and has beautiful views of their garden year round.

Of course he knows you want to see the sites around Seoul but Jisung would love to show you some of the quieter, calmer sites. He’d also be able to show you just how beautiful the country is. Walking through the park you’d have plenty of time to chat and enjoy the hopefully fresh air Seoul has terrible air quality y’all while you look for good views along the trail. He’d be sure to take photos of you in all of the pretty spots you find and would probably snap some sneaky ones of you while you’re looking at the views, the nature, or taking your own pictures and if you look at his lock screen tomorrow you’ll see one of them. After that you’ll head down to the tea room for a rest, enjoying the atmosphere and some tea after a lot of walking.

Felix - Biking and a Picnic in Olympic Park

Olympic park is a large park in southeast Seoul. It holds a number of walking trails, museums, gyms and stadiums, art and flower gardens, and bike roads. It’s also literally right next to the JYP building hence why multiple members have vlogged there. Also we’ve all seen Felix’s biking vlogs, yes? Yes of course we have so you know where this came from

Felix’s first thought would be to take you somewhere pretty but close that he knows well. He knows that you can truly spend all day in Olympic Park and even continue to some longer trails around the area if you did end up getting bored. He’d start off the day by packing up a picnic lunch full of kimbap and fruit and some homemade brownies before you go to rent bikes. He’d make sure your helmet is on snuggly before you take off on the bikes, riding around the trails and stopping at any particularly nice views or gardens to take pictures. Once you’ve worked up an appetite he’d take you to the picnic grounds and lay out a picnic mat before pulling out all of the food. You’d spend the next while chatting and eating while he eagerly asks about your favourite parts of your visit so far. You'd finish off the day by walking up some of the trails and getting some pretty views of Lotte Tower and the setting sun.

Seungmin - Exploring Gyeongbokgung in Hanbok

Gyeongbokgung is the largest of the palaces in Seoul. The beautiful grounds include both lots of information about the history of Korea and the lives of royal families as well as stunning views and gorgeous historic architecture. It’s very common for Koreans and foreigners alike to rent hanbok and explore the palace to take pictures.

Seungmin’s reasoning for taking you to the palace would be two fold. You’d start the day by going in, taking a tour and checking out one of the museums. He’d tell you anything else he knew about the history and would get so happy when you start asking questions about it or Korean culture, very happy to tell you all he knew. After stopping for lunch he’d take you to rent hanbok, smiling so brightly seeing you in it and then take you back to the palace. You’d spend the afternoon exploring the grounds with Seungmin snapping tons of photos of you, some posing and some candid. His heart would be bursting the whole time, loving how nice you look and seeing you interact with and take part in his culture. He’d also make sure to ask someone to take pictures of the both of you in some of the prettiest spots around the palace grounds.

Jeongin - Lotte World

Lotte World is a theme park in the southeast of Seoul. There is a large indoor section to the park as well as an outdoor section with a small island and some of the larger, outdoor rides. One fun quirk of Lotte World is for people to rent school uniforms (or school-like uniforms such as the produce series uniforms) for their visit to the park.

Jeongin would enjoy taking you somewhere fun. He’d get excited just looking up all the things you can do at the park and planning out what to ride and when. He’d definitely ask if you’d like to get uniforms, trying to convince you with a cute pout and telling you how cute the pictures would be. In between riding rides and playing games he’d make sure to snap lots of pics of the two of you in any cute or pretty spots you find. He’d just love spending a day with you having fun and being silly and enjoying yourselves. He’d definitely end the day with a walk around Seokchon lake as the sun sets.