the place where i was born and raised

my pals on the lancecord asked me for some tips on cuban spanish so i thought i’d share them here too for all you lance writers. i’m a cuban voltron fan who doesnt want to live in fear of bad spanish in nearly every damn fic and im trying to be the change i want to see in the world. so feel free to message me if you have any questions about lance’s culture bc this is nowhere near being comprehensive at all.

lets get into the stuff google translate can’t teach u!

i don’t know anyone under the age of 60 who says “dios mio.” lance definitely would not, unless he is doing an impression of his abuela.

things that sound more natural than dios mio: ave maria, ay dios, por dios, AY POR DIOS

more commonly we exclaim “coño!” for anything. shock/anger/awe/etc. if the reaction is negative, it’s just coño. if the reaction is positive, we drop the first syllable and draw it out like “‘ñoooooo”

we exclaim “pinga!” or “cojone!” or “pinga cojone!” as a negative reaction more commonly than any translations of omg too

“de madre” is something we usually exclaim as a negative reaction. it can be yelled or sighed or grumbled. usually has a frustrated or incredulous connotation

“wepa!” is a sound we make as a positive exclamation.

we say “‘ueno” like the verbal embodiment of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (it’s bueno with the b dropped)

other things that sound really stiff for cubans to say is like, “hola, como estas?” i mean, you say it to people you’re not on a casual level with. to friends/family these sound more natural:

“que bola asere” is how we greet our close friends

“que bola” or “que vuelta” is how we say hey

“oye” is hey! but not as a greeting, as an exclamation. something you would say before a greeting or on its own when surprised/offended/trying to get someone’s attention/etc

common insults: cabron/cabrona, mojon, comepinga, comemierda

common pet names for anyone: flaco, nena, mojon, mi socio, corazon

“asere” is our word for “bro” that no other country uses (1000% what lance calls hunk)

we also have a tendency to call our family members by their relation+their name, such as “my Tio Jimmy called” or “Abuela Carmen is making food.” i think this is when we have big ol families and just saying tio or abuela isnt specific enough

also this isnt spanish but i s2g so many bilingual cubans i know use the word “fire” almost constantly to describe something awesome. so i think thats a small cultural thing that communicates lance is cuban without having him speak spanish. (ex. “omg that’s fire” “hunk makes fire tacos” “pidge is fire at fixing stuff” “can you play that fire song?”)

now here’s a bunch of stuff that’s just my opinion

  • I think it’s most in character for Lance to drop Spanish words only one or two at a time into English phrases, since that’s how he uses it in canon (“Hasta la later, Keith!”). A couple of quick examples off the top of my head -
    • tremendo/tremenda - an adjective for huge. “You’re being tremendo sore loser, but okay.”
    • todito/todo - means everything. you can use them one after the other for extra drama. “I forgot todito, todo, about calculus immediately after passing it.”
    • These sound like really natural ways to drop Spanish into conversation without being forced if you keep it to a minimum. I aint here to tell u how to write your lance but i beg you - Please show restraint and don’t try to use all of these tips at the same time!!
  • I recommend following latin internet personalities (like jaxxgarcia or mr. red) to pick up their Spanglish phrasing if you’re really into that. please don’t try to make up your own. it’s never as cute as you thought.
  • if you’re writing full on spanish for more than a word or two, please do not ever make Lance speak it “accidentally” (or even worse, on purpose) to someone he knows doesn’t understand the language. that’s really rude and alienating and it’s so against lance’s character to isolate himself from others like that when he speaks fluent english. 
  • other times Lance can toss a spanish word in without sounding forced is if he’s namedropping cuban things! Try looking up some of our 
    • food (ropa vieja, pan con lechon, arroz con leche)
    • drinks (materva, iron beer, malta), 
    • films (juan of the dead, azucar amarga)
    • or music (celia cruz, marc anthony, juanes*) and have lance mention them by their spanish name if the topic comes up. 
      • *not all of these musicians are cuban, but they’re some of the most popular amongst us. i’m simply naming artists i think lance is most likely to enjoy considering his age and personality.
  • speaking of music, we have very specific dance styles that are pretty cool and almost mandatory to learn at a young age. cubans in general love to party, and to host large family gatherings which easily morph into parties, and basically any social event seems awkward if there’s no one dancing at any point. 
  • what I’m trying to say is Lance definitely knows salsa or merengue moves.
  • I don’t love to party and I’m not a good dancer and I don’t like dancing, but I know salsa anyway because I had to be in the environment my whole life. always exceptions, but the majority of cubans grow up knowing how to dance and it looks more or less like this:

and one last opinion for the road:

Voltron takes place in the future, so I like to dream of Lance being born in a world where Cuba’s free from communism. If you’re doing a Voltron AU that takes place nowadays, please don’t write about Lance’s experience in Cuba if you aren’t familiar with what it’s like to live under a regime like that. It’s very bleak and textbooks don’t cover half of the fucked up things that those who live there actually have to go through.

Lance could have been born in Cuba, but raised somewhere else. Miami would be my recommendation because it’s our second homeland and it means he would have been raised surrounded by Cuban culture without the governmental oppression. But Cubans are absolutely everywhere, so it’s equally believable that Lance’s family could have immigrated to Pawnee, Indiana. Even in Voltron canon, I think it’s likely Lance moved to America at a young age because he clearly has a native fluency in English.

edit: I have a cuban things tag now if you’re interested in finding out more cultural details!

I was born and raised in Kentucky, near the foothills of appalachia. I could drive twenty minutes in any direction and find myself square in the middle of abject poverty. Every spring, winter-hardened homeless men reappear to beg for change by the end of most interstate off-ramps.

The people here don’t love me. I’ve been glared out of nearly any kind of establishment you can think of. The south is a place where there are crosses in sight nearly everywhere you go and Mitch McConnell has been voted repeatedly back into office since 1984. They play country music in the Dairy Queen and everyone has a Ford pickup (“because they’re made in the USA!”). It’s a place where speaking in tongues isn’t crazy but being transgender sure is.

Everyone I know wants to leave. They set their sights on Colorado, California, Washington, Oregon. Out in the west where everything is bigger, more open, more open-minded. A place where they might feel safe.

But Kentucky is my home. I love it from deep within my bones. The hills nestle you into them, lovingly, nurturing. In the summer, the air presses into your lungs like it has something burning to say. The forests here are more alive than any other place I have seen; the cicadas sing nonstop and the greenery is so lush that it holds you. A teacher once dubbed it “the sacred yoni” and I have since longed for nothing but mother earth’s embrace. I feel her magic everywhere.

Y'all. I can’t leave. I love these people the way you can only love the people where you come from. I love all of the brave queer kids and the scared queer adults and everyone in between. I love the homeless men begging for the kind of change that you can’t pull out of a wallet. I love the hills and the rivers and the trees.

Someone has to stay. Someone has to make it a better place.
Chris Colfer: The First Time I Braved New York (and a Taxi!)
The “Glee” actor and best-selling author, whose latest young adult novel is “Stranger Than Fanfiction,” talks about a rite of passage.
By Chris Colfer

Imagine, if you will, the Pillsbury Doughboy with Peter Brady’s haircut and Truman Capote’s voice. Add a sprinkling of the fear of being touched and the social anxiety of a shy Chihuahua. That was me at 18, and in December 2008, that guy decided it was a good idea to take a trip to New York City all by himself.

To reiterate why this cultural experiment was destined for failure, I should mention I was born and raised in Clovis, Calif., a small town in the heart of the San Joaquin Valley — you know, where they end up in “The Grapes of Wrath.” Clovis is a place of spacious farmland, quiet suburbs, ample street parking and trucks with testicle ornaments. It couldn’t be more different from the Big Apple, which is probably why I spent much of my adolescence wishing Kristin Chenoweth would show up in Glinda the Good Witch’s bubble and take me there.

Keep reading

Imagine you and Chris answering 73 questions from Vogue.

A/N: Oops, I kind of went a little off the rails with this piece. The word count’s like 2.7K? It’s super fluffy, but it’s also slightly more personalized because I was addressing @alxpxe interracial couple request, as well as @dxbrevgrey’s request. Hope y'all enjoy this! (P.S - Thanks for answering my “where are you from?” question! I really, really appreciate it.)

Chris looked up from his newspaper when he saw you enter the kitchen from the corner of his eye. You were too busy responding to the text from Joe Sabina- Vogue’s 73 Question interviewer- to notice your husband was smiling at you with great adoration. He’d noticed in the past few months that you’d been looking particularly beautiful, like there was a glow about you. He figured he was just being a biased, wide-eyed husband, but he was right- there was something different about you that you were yet to share with him.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” he teased and you turned to him.

“Thank you, baby,” you walked over to peck his cheek and his smile widened as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Joe’s like five minutes away, that’s why I’m all dressed up.” You told him, draping your arm around his neck.

“Nope,” he shook his head and your eyes narrowed in confusion. “You always look beautiful, whether or not you dress up and make up.” He explained and you chuckled, kissing the top of his head. “So today’s the day, huh?” He asked as he released you to return to his eggs.

“Mm hm,” you pulled your arm off him to go make yourself a cup of green tea. “I know I was hesitant to do it at first, but now I’m actually excited. It really is an honor to be a part of the series,” you said and Chris nodded in agreement.

You had been asked a couple week ago to be a part of the prestigious 73 Questions interview; you didn’t really know if it was prestigious, all you knew was that many of those that had been a part of it were either talented friends of yours or people you admired greatly. Joe had called your publicist to set up the interview, and since then you’d emailed with him back and forth to plan the transcript as well as had a two hour lunch to finalize it. It took a while to refine what was going to be asked and answered, but you were finally ready to shoot the episode.

“It is, and I’m glad I managed to convince you to do it. Our fans would’ve killed you if you’d declined,” he joked. “There are a lot of people who want to hear you answer seventy-three personal questions as well as walk through our home.” He said then laughed when you did. “Anyway-” he shoveled the rest of his eggs into his mouth and murmured with it full, “do you want Dodger and I to make ourselves scarce?”

“Definitely not,” you quickly said because you’d something planned for the end of the interview that you needed Chris around for. “I think our fans would kill you if you and Dodger didn’t show face in the interview. You do realize that we have more fans as a couple than as individuals, right?” He laughed at that even though he knew it was true; when you got married, all your fans clumped into one large supportive group. “Joe and I worked you into the transcript anyway, so you’re not going anywhere,” you looped an arm around his neck and mumbled into his hair, “mister.”

“I’m happy to stay,” he tipped his head to kiss your jawline, “missus.” The doorbell rang and you pulled away from Chris as he said, “there’s Joe. And-” Dodger barreled in from the backyard and headed for the front door. “There’s Dodger,” he said and you both laughed. “Wait till I grab him to open the door, I don’t think we need another head to the nuts incident.”

“No we don’t,” you chuckled and started towards the front door with Chris following behind you. “They’ve already started filming, by the way. So as soon as we open the door, the interview’s in movement. You ready?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder at Chris; he nodded and grabbed Dodger’s collar while you opened the door for Joe.

“Good morning, guys.” Joe smiled behind his handheld camera.

“Hey Joe,” you and Chris both greeted him, smiling.

“Who do we have here?” Joe moved the camera to show Dodger. “This must be the famous Dodger, I’m very thankful you’re holding him back because I don’t think I can take a hit to the nuts so early in the morning.” You all laughed at that. “So shall we begin the interview?”

“Sure,” you both stepped to the side to welcome Joe inside. “If you don’t mind taking your shoes off, that’d be great.” You told him and he directed his camera at both yours and Chris’ socked feet. You’d already discussed it in the transcript, that your shoeless house would be one of his seventy-three questions.

“No problem,” he nodded and started to take off his shoes as he asked his first question. “You come from an Asian family and you’re a bit of a clean freak.” Chris snickered because a bit was an understatement; he couldn’t even sit on the bed without having a shower first. “So this is a habit for you.” You nodded, nudging Chris as you tried not to laugh. “Do you take off your shoes at every house you visit?”

“Most houses,” you nodded.

“All houses,” Chris interjected. “She does it at every house she visits, unless the floors seem dirty or the host insists she keeps them on.” You shot him a dirty look as you tried not to laugh; he’d successfully made you sound like a snob as well as offend the hosts of the houses you’d visited before without taking off yours shoes. “But she’s pretty cute about it, so it’s fine.”

Joe chuckled then used his camera to get a view of the front of your house. “I like the vibe the two of you’ve got going on here, it’s very zen and peaceful.” You looked over at Chris, smiling. “Did you do the interior yourself?” He asked, directing the camera back at you and Chris.

“Chris did,” you pointed at your husband. “We talked about redecorating after the honeymoon, but that was like- what?” You glanced at Chris, both of you chuckling. “Four years ago? We’ve been fairly preoccupied.” Chris nodded. “But honestly, our styles are fairly similar. I didn’t feel a dire need to change things up, I kind of just allowed my things to blend with his.”

“Do you think this is the house you’ll raise your kids in?”

“No,” you and Chris both said simultaneously. “Um-” You glanced at him and you both laughed. “Definitely not,” you continued. “We both love LA and it is where we have to be most of the time because of our jobs, but eventually we’d like to move back to Chris’ hometown.”

“Why not your hometown?”

“That’s a bit tricky considering I’m from two places,” you chuckled, referring to the two countries you called home; Singapore was where you were born, and Australia was where you were raised. “It’s just easier for us if we live in The States because of our jobs, and I’m so used to life here now that I can’t see myself going back to either places. We do go on holidays quite often, but that’s about it.”

“For the record,” Chris spoke up. “I love both countries my girl’s from. Their cultures are vastly different from each other, and mine, but I find it incredibly interesting. It’s always nice to immerse myself in her holidays, especially Chinese New Year. We’ve been back to Singapore a couple of times for it and it’s just awesome. There is so much food, like- ridiculous amounts. Imagine Thanksgiving, but more food and more than one day.”

“Chris has a lot of trouble when we go back for Chinese New Year, especially when we have a Marvel movie coming up because he wants to eat everything but he can’t.” Chris nodded with pursed lips and you laughed, looping your arm with his. “Shall we move on to the rest of the house?”

“Yes, please.”

Joe followed you and Chris as you led him through the rest of your house, answering quick fire questions that told the fans more about you, and Chris, and your life as a married couple. Dodger sprinted off the moment Chris released his collar, but not without getting a pat or two from Joe first. You toured the kitchen where Joe asked you and Chris questions twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, and twenty-three.

“Who does the cooking?”

“Both of us, but we usually take responsibility for a certain meal,” you answered. “Like Chris always does breakfasts because he’s an early riser. I’m more lunch and dinner, though we’re never really home during lunch time.”

“What’s your favorite cuisine?”

“Italian,” you answered then looked over at Chris.

“I just like yummy food,” he answered with a soft chuckle.

“Your family owned a restaurant when you were younger and you were in charge of desserts,” Joe stated and you nodded. “What’s your favorite dessert item to make?” He asked you then asked Chris, “and what’s your favorite dessert item to eat?”

“Anything with chocolate,” you said when Joe’s camera was on you.

“Favorite dessert item to eat, like- that Y/N makes?” Chris quizzed when Joe’s camera was on him; Joe nodded. “Oh wow, that’s a tough question. Honestly- before I met Y/N, I was not a dessert guy at all. I ate a lot of jellybeans and ice-cream, but that was about it. But God, she’s converted me. I can’t go a meal without dessert now,” he laughed and you smiled. “But my favorite thing? It’s probably her chocolate chip cookies, they just give me such a homey feeling.”

“Can I try one?” Joe asked, directing his camera at the cookie jar sitting on your kitchen bench top. You nodded and took one out of the jar and passed it to him. “Oh wow,” he said after taking a bite. “This is possibly the best chocolate chip cookie I’ve ever tasted, this is delicious.”

“Now you know why I have to work out all the time,” Chris joked.

With those questions answered, you all moved back into the living room. Joe questioned the both of you on the awards you’d received that were displayed on the fireplace mantel, as well as the photographs hanging on your walls. The photographs- the one of you and Chris on set meeting for the first time, and then one from your wedding- were the cues to move onto Joe’s questions onto your Marvel career as well as your relationship with Chris, which you’d thoroughly discussed with Chris before agreeing to answer.

“What is your most memorable moment on a Marvel set?”

“Meeting my husband,” you didn’t even have to think twice.

“And what is it like being married to Captain America?”

“Patriotic,” you joked. Beside you, Chris laughed softly with a shake of his head. “No, it’s wonderful. Chris is the perfect man,” you smiled as you slipped your hand into Chris’; he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “And he’s also lot more than Captain America.”

“Did you know when you first met Chris that he was going to be the one you’d marry?”

“She definitely knew,” Chris answered before you could; his tone was smug and he had a smirk on his face that made you laugh. “But to be fair,” he chuckled, “I did tell her I was going to marry her numerous times.” You laughed harder, nodding in agreement. “I’m just lucky she didn’t run.”

“So it was love at first sight then?”

“For me it was,” Chris nodded, smiling at you.

“Me too,” you said after smiling at him. “I mean- what’s not to love?”

“Best memory as a couple?”

“Our first Christmas together,” you both said at the same time then chuckled when you caught each other’s gaze. “I was in London for a job and Chris was on break back in Boston, so we didn’t think we’d see each other. But um-” you smiled, “he left his family and flew out to London to surprise me and we had a great Christmas together. It was very sweet, I was in tears when I saw him at my hotel door.”

“Is that the nicest thing Chris has ever done for you?”

“It’s up there,” you nodded. “But the thing is, he’s such a sweet and romantic guy that I couldn’t possibly highlight one thing or event. He’s done a lot for me over the course of our relationship, all of it seems as nice as the one before. I can’t choose,” you shook your head, “no way.”

“And what’s the nicest thing Y/N has done for you?”

“I think marrying me?” Chris said then smiled when he heard you chuckle.

“If you were to pick an animal for your partner, what animal would it be?”

“Chris is most definitely a puppy,” you laughed. “He’s always up and at it, he’s always so bubbly and happy- he’s adorable and lovely and kind and just- a down to earth, good guy. He’s the human version of Dodger, it’s no wonder they found each other.”

“Aw,” Chris cooed, pulling his hand out of yours to wrap his arm around you. “Well, Y/N is a cat. Intelligent, sassy, independent, and also very mysterious. You think you’ve got her figured out, but you don’t and you won’t until you show that you’re invested in her. Once she knows you’re here to stay, she’ll cozy up to you and she’ll love you till the end of time.”

“And you said you’re not a cat person,” you teased him.

“I guess you’re my exception, aren’t you?” He winked and you chuckled.

Joe mouthed “seventy-three” and you knew it was his cue to wrap up the interview. You tapped Chris’ leg and you all got onto your feet, walking Joe towards the front door. “Well, it’s been lovely being in your house and talking to the both of you. I believe we’re up to the last question, so here it is.” Joe shared a knowing smile with you, whereas Chris was completely oblivious. “Is it a boy or a girl?” He quizzed and you bit back your smile, slipping your hand into Chris’.

“What do you mean?” Chris’ eyes narrowed in confusion, then he turned to you when Joe beckoned his head at you. You smiled and realization swept over Chris’ face. “Are we-” He cut himself off when he saw you nod, and his smile reached his eyes. “No!” He pulled his hand out of yours and covered his mouth. “We’re pregnant?!”

“I can’t answer that because that’d be seventy-four questions, so I’ll answer Joe’s.” You said and Chris’ eyes glistened with tears of joy as he waited to hear if he was going to be a dad to a handsome baby boy or a beautiful baby girl. “It’s a boy.”

“Yes!” He cheered and hugged you, lifting you off the ground. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him, smiling at Joe who was letting himself out after nodding at you gratefully. “I’m going to be a dad, I’m going to be a dad!”

“Yes you are,” you cupped Chris’ face in your hands when he put you down onto your feet and released you. “And you’re going to be the best dad in the whole wide world.” He smiled and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you towards him to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I was wrong, you know.”

“About what?” You quizzed, looking up to meet Chris’ gaze.

“About the nicest thing you’ve done for me,” he answered and you smiled because you knew what he was going to say next. “Because this is it. You’ve helped me check off everything on my life plan. I got to work with my celebrity crush, I got to marry the love of my life, and now I’m having a child with my soul mate. That’s it, I have everything and I don’t think I can ask for anything more.” Your heart swelled when you saw his blue eyes glistened. “Well-” he chuckled and leaned in, “maybe just a kiss?”

“You got it,” you smiled.

“I love you,” he breathed when his lips were inches from yours.

“I love you more,” you said then met his soft lips.

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja @elizabeth-matsuoka @thegirlwiththeimpala @camerica96 @all-of-the-above11 @captainamerica-ce @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @siofrataylor @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @imaginary-world-of-mine @wanderingkat77 @grantward3 @rileyloves5 @chrsmom302 @buckys-shield @mylittlefandomfanfictions @breezykpop @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @hayleesteashoppe @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @louisespecter @castellandiangelo @ccrossfire @assxmblesstuff @edward-lover18 @princessesnaddy @1d-niallerbieberforever @dxbrevgrey @bellastellaluna @christopher-or-steven (Inbox me if you’d like to be added to the tag list)

types of new zealand children

  • you were born on the west coast. black sand and thrashing waters, the kind of dangerous parents warn their children about. you could swim before you could walk, and you can feel the ocean in your bones, a soft ache that will never go away
  • you were born in canterbury. winter is nothing more than a warm embrace to you. your body convulses and shifts endlessly like the land below you, and your whole existence feels on edge. rise and fall
  • you were born in the wetlands. you know rebirth better than any, and yet you still feel trapped. you wake early every morning, and you know just how silent the farm can be. your life is an endless cycle of this knowing and yet you can never do anything but watch
  • you were born in te hiku-o-te-ika. the old gods still live inside of the earth, and you are surrounded by them. tane mahuta stands tall and so do you. breathe in, you exist at the top of aotearoa
  • you were born in the alpine mountains of otago. land of the red earth, isolated village, you are difficult to get to and difficult to understand. you are calmest when the wind is thin and the snow cold. poor child, you will never be able to comprehend your vastness
  • you were born in the cities. there is a disconnect in your identity, and no matter how many times you shift around, you will never feel at home until the hum of traffic has settled under your skin
  • you were born in the king country. war torn kid with too much blood on your knees, in your mouth, on your arms. there’s a rage inside of you that will never go away, but nor will the strength that comes from the bones of the kings in the soil below you
  • you were born in marlborough. the dry season has lasted several years, and you just want to know when everything will feel okay again. soon, i promise you
  • you were born on the volcanic plateau. you will never know where you belong, but that’s okay. nowhere will be able to contain you but the open vastness of the desert road. you are all too much, from lake taupo to mount ruapehu, you are unknowable
  • you were born in the bay of plenty. you have never known hunger, but you know suffering. you are the softest of children, raised on summer warmth and placid rivers that you know better than the back of your hand
  • you were born in heretaunga. you survived a place that wanted you dead. through the floods, the earthquakes, and the droughts, you still stand. you are so much stronger than you know
In Judaism, a person is evaluated for their actions, not for who they are. A person cannot control - cannot choose - what family they were born into. A person cannot choose where they were born, or how their parents decided to raise them. But they can choose how to act - they can choose to leave their past behind and move forwards, to turn negativity into positivity, to turn hate into love, and darkness into light. This is our portion, this is our inheritance, and this is our responsibility… After all, Moshe spoke to us in the Torah, saying (Deuteronomy 30:19) “I bore testimony on you today, [in front of the] heavens and the earth, the life and the death - that I have placed before before you, the blessing and the curse… And you have chosen life.”
Revolutionary Hope: A Conversation Between James Baldwin and Audre Lorde

External image

JB: One of the dangers of being a Black American is being schizophrenic, and I mean ‘schizophrenic’ in the most literal sense. To be a Black American is in some ways to be born with the desire to be white. It’s a part of the price you pay for being born here, and it affects every Black person. We can go back to Vietnam, we can go back to Korea. We can go back for that matter to the First World War. We can go back to W.E.B. Du Bois – an honorable and beautiful man – who campaigned to persuade Black people to fight in the First World War, saying that if we fight in this war to save this country, our right to citizenship can never, never again be questioned – and who can blame him? He really meant it, and if I’d been there at that moment I would have said so too perhaps. Du Bois believed in the American dream. So did Martin. So did Malcolm. So do I. So do you. That’s why we’re sitting here.

AL: I don’t, honey. I’m sorry, I just can’t let that go past. Deep, deep, deep down I know that dream was never mine. And I wept and I cried and I fought and I stormed, but I just knew it. I was Black. I was female. And I was out – out – by any construct wherever the power lay. So if I had to claw myself insane, if I lived I was going to have to do it alone. Nobody was dreaming about me. Nobody was even studying me except as something to wipe out.

JB: You are saying you do not exist in the American dream except as a nightmare.

AL: That’s right. And I knew it every time I opened Jet, too. I knew that every time I opened a Kotex box. I knew that every time I went to school. I knew that every time I opened a prayer book. I knew it, I just knew it.

JB: It is difficult to be born in a place where you are despised and also promised that with endeavor – with this, with that, you know – you can accomplish the impossible. You’re trying to deal with the man, the woman, the child – the child of whichever sex – and he or she and your man or your woman has got to deal with the 24-hour-a-day facts of life in this country. We’re not going to fly off someplace else, you know, we’d better get through whatever that day is and still have each other and still raise children – somehow manage all of that. And this is 24 hours of every day, and you’re surrounded by all of the paraphernalia of safety: If you can strike this bargain here. If you can make sure your armpits are odorless. Curl your hair. Be impeccable. Be all the things that the American public says you should do, right? And you do all those things – and nothing happens really. And what is much worse than that, nothing happens to your child either.

AL: Even worse than the nightmare is the blank. And Black women are the blank. I don’t want to break all this down, then have to stop at the wall of male/female division. When we admit and deal with difference; when we deal with the deep bitterness; when we deal with the horror of even our different nightmares; when we turn them and look at them, it’s like looking at death: hard but possible. If you look at it directly without embracing it, then there is much less that you can ever be made to fear.

JB: I agree.

AL: Well, in the same way when we look at our differences and not allow ourselves to be divided, when we own them and are not divided by them, that is when we will be able to move on. But we haven’t reached square one yet.

JB: I’m not sure of that. I think the Black sense of male and female is much more sophisticated than the western idea. I think that Black men and women are much less easily thrown by the question of gender or sexual preference – all that jazz. At least that is true of my experience.

AL: Yea, but let’s remove ourselves from merely a reactive position – i.e., Black men and women reacting to what’s out there. While we are reacting to what’s out there, we’re also dealing between ourselves – and between ourselves there are power differences that come down…

JB: Oh, yes…

AL: Truly dealing with how we live, recognizing each other’s differences, is something that hasn’t happened…

JB: Differences and samenesses.

AL: Differences and samenesses. But in a crunch, when all our asses are in the sling, it looks like it is easier to deal with the samenesses. When we deal with sameness only, we develop weapons that we use against each other when the differences become apparent. And we wipe each other out – Black men and women can wipe each other out – far more effectively than outsiders do.

JB: That’s true enough.

AL: And our blood is high, our furies are up. I mean, it’s what Black women do to each other, Black men do to each other, and Black people do to each other. We are in the business of wiping each other out in one way or the other – and essentially doing our enemy’s work.

JB: That’s quite true.

AL: We need to acknowledge those power differences between us and see where they lead us. An enormous amount of energy is being taken up with either denying the power differences between Black men and women or fighting over power differences between Black men and women or killing each other off behind them. I’m talking about Black women’s blood flowing in the streets – and how do we get a 14-year-old boy to know I am not the legitimate target of his fury? The boot is on both of our necks. Let’s talk about getting it off. My blood will not wash out your horror. That’s what I’m interested in getting across to adolescent Black boys.

There are little Black girl children having babies. But this is not an immaculate conception, so we’ve got little Black boys who are making babies, too. We have little Black children making little Black children. I want to deal with that so our kids will not have to repeat that waste of themselves.

JB: I hear you – but let me backtrack, for better or worse. You know, for whatever reason and whether it’s wrong or right, for generations men have come into the world, either instinctively knowing or believing or being taught that since they were men they in one way or another had to be responsible for the women and children, which means the universe.

AL: Mm-hm.

JB: I don’t think there’s any way around that.

AL: Any way around that now?

JB: I don’t think there’s any way around that fact.

AL: If we can put people on the moon and we can blow this whole planet up, if we can consider digging 18 inches of radioactive dirt off of the Bikini atolls and somehow finding something to do with it – if we can do that, we as Black cultural workers can somehow begin to turn that stuff around – because there’s nobody anymore buying ‘cave politics’ – ‘Kill the mammoth or else the species is extinct.’ We have moved beyond that. Those little scrubby-ass kids in the sixth grade – I want those Black kids to know that brute force is not a legitimate way of dealing across sex difference. I want to set up some different paradigms.

JB: Yea, but there’s a real difference between the way a man looks at the world…

AL: Yes, yes…

JB: And the way a woman looks at the world. A woman does know much more than a man.

AL: And why? For the same reason Black people know what white people are thinking: because we had to do it for our survival…

JB: All right, all right…

AL: We’re finished being bridges. Don’t you see? It’s not Black women who are shedding Black men’s blood on the street – yet. We’re not cleaving your head open with axes. We’re not shooting you down. We’re saying, “Listen, what’s going on between us is related to what’s going on between us and other people,” but we have to solve our own shit at the same time as we’re protecting our Black asses, because if we don’t, we are wasting energy that we need for joint survival.

JB: I’m not even disagreeing – but if you put the argument in that way, you see, a man has a certain story to tell, too, just because he is a man…

AL: Yes, yes, and it’s vital that I be alive and able to listen to it.

JB: Yes. Because we are the only hope we have. A family quarrel is one thing; a public quarrel is another. And you and I, you know – in the kitchen, with the kids, with each other or in bed – we have a lot to deal with, with each other, but we’ve got to know what we’re dealing with. And there is no way around it. There is no way around it. I’m a man. I am not a woman.

AL: That’s right, that’s right.

JB: No one will turn me into a woman. You’re a woman and you’re not a man. No one will turn you into a man. And we are indispensable for each other, and the children depend on us both.

AL: It’s vital for me to be able to listen to you, to hear what is it that defines you and for you to listen to me, to hear what is it that defines me – because so long as we are operating in that old pattern, it doesn’t serve anybody, and it certainly hasn’t served us.

JB: I know that. What I really think is that neither of us has anything to prove, at least not in the same way, if we weren’t in the North American wilderness. And the inevitable dissension between brother and sister, between man and woman – let’s face it, all those relations which are rooted in love also are involved in this quarrel. Because our real responsibility is to endlessly redefine each other. I cannot live without you, and you cannot live without me – and the children can’t live without us.

AL: But we have to define ourselves for each other. We have to redefine ourselves for each other because no matter what the underpinnings of the distortion are, the fact remains that we have absorbed it. We have all absorbed this sickness and ideas in the same way we absorbed racism. It’s vital that we deal constantly with racism, and with white racism among Black people – that we recognize this as a legitimate area of inquiry. We must also examine the ways that we have absorbed sexism and heterosexism. These are the norms in this dragon we have been born into – and we need to examine these distortions with the same kind of openness and dedication that we examine racism…

JB: You use the word ‘racism’…

AL: The hatred of Black, or color…

JB: - but beneath the word ‘racism’ sleeps the word ‘safety.’ Why is it important to be white or Black?

AL: Why is it important to be a man rather than a woman?

JB: In both cases, it is assumed that it is safer to be white than to be Black. And it’s assumed that it is safer to be a man than to be a woman. These are both masculine assumptions. But those are the assumptions that we’re trying to overcome or to confront…

AL: To confront, yeah. The vulnerability that lies behind those masculine assumptions is different for me and you, and we must begin to look at that…

JB: Yes, yes…

AL: And the fury that is engendered in the denial of that vulnerability – we have to break through it because there are children growing up believe that it is legitimate to shed female blood, right? I have to break through it because those boys really think that the sign of their masculinity is impregnating a sixth grader. I have to break through it because of that little sixth-grade girl who believes that the only thing in life she has is what lies between her legs…

JB: Yeah, but we’re not talking now about men and women. We’re talking about a particular society. We’re talking about a particular time and place. You were talking about the shedding of Black blood in the streets, but I don’t understand –

AL: Okay, the cops are killing the men and the men are killing the women. I’m talking about rape. I’m talking about murder.

JB: I’m not disagreeing with you, but I do think you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not trying to get the Black man off the hook – or Black women, for that matter – but I am talking about the kingdom in which we live.

AL: Yes, I absolutely agree; the kingdom in which these distortions occur has to be changed.

JB: Something happens to the man who beats up a lady. Something happens to the man who beats up his grandmother. Something happens to the junkie. I know that very well. I walked the streets of Harlem; I grew up there, right? Now you know it is not the Black cat’s fault who sees me and tries to mug me. I got to know that. It’s his responsibility but it’s not his fault. That’s a nuance. UI got to know that it’s not him who is my enemy even when he beats up his grandmother. His grandmother has got to know. I’m trying to say one’s got to see what drove both of us into those streets. We be both from the same track. Do you see what I mean? I’ve come home myself, you know, wanting to beat up anything in sight- but Audre, Audre…

AL: I’m here, I’m here…

JB: I agree with you. I see exactly what you mean and it hurts me at least as much as it hurts you. But how to maneuver oneself past this point – how not to lose him or her who may be in what is in effect occupied territory. That is really what the Black situation is in this country. For the ghetto, all that is lacking is barbed wire, and when you pen people up like animals, the intention is to debase them and you have debased them.

AL: Jimmy, we don’t have an argument

JB: I know we don’t.

AL: But what we do have is a real disagreement about your responsibility not just to me but to my son and to our boys. Your responsibility to him is to get across to him in a way that I never will be able to because he did not come out of my body and has another relationship to me. Your relationship to him as his farther is to tell him I’m not a fit target for his fury.

JB: Okay, okay…

AL: It’s so entrenched in him that it’s part of him as much as his Blackness is.

JB: All right, all right…

AL: I can’t do it. You have to.

JB: All right, I accept – the challenge is there in any case. It never occurred to me that it would be otherwise. That’s absolutely true. I simply want to locate where the danger is…

AL: Yeah, we’re at war…

JB: We are behind the gates of a kingdom which is determined to destroy us.

AL: Yes, exactly so. And I’m interested in seeing that we do not accept terms that will help us destroy each other. And I think one of the ways in which we destroy each other is by being programmed to knee-jerk on our differences. Knee-jerk on sex. Knee-jerk on sexuality…

JB: I don’t quite know what to do about it, but I agree with you. And I understand exactly what you mean. You’re quite right. We get confused with genders – you know, what the western notion of woman is, which is not necessarily what a woman is at all. It’s certainly not the African notion of what a woman is. Or even the European notion of what a woman is. And there’s certainly not standard of masculinity in this country which anybody can respect. Part of the horror of being a Black American is being trapped into being an imitation of an imitation.

AL: I can’t tell you what I wished you would be doing. I can’t redefine masculinity. I can’t redefine Black masculinity certainly. I am in the business of redefining Black womanness. You are in the business of redefining Black masculinity. And I’m saying, ‘Hey, please go on doing it,’ because I don’t know how much longer I can hold this fort, and I really feel that Black women are holding it and we’re beginning to hold it in ways that are making this dialogue less possible.

JB: Really? Why do you say that? I don’t feel that at all. It seems to me you’re blaming the Black man for the trap he’s in.

AL: I’m not blaming the Black man; I’m saying don’t shed my blood. I’m not blaming the Black man. I’m saying if my blood is being shed, at some point I’m gonna have a legitimate reason to take up a knife and cut your damn head off, and I’m not trying to do it.

JB: If you drive a man mad, you’ll turn him into a beast – it has nothing to do with his color.

AL: If you drive a woman insane, she will react like a beast too. There is a larger structure, a society with which we are in total and absolute war. We live in the mouth of a dragon, and we must be able to use each other’s forces to fight it together, because we need each other. I am saying that in our joint battle we have also developed some very real weapons, and when we turn them against each other they are even more bloody, because we know each other in a particular way. When we turn those weapons against each other, the bloodshed is terrible. Even worse, we are doing this in a structure where we are already embattled. I am not denying that. It is a family discussion I’m having now. I’m not laying blame. I do not blame Black men for what they are. I’m asking them to move beyond. I do not blame Black men; what I’m saying is, we have to take a new look at the ways in which we fight our joint oppression because if we don’t, we’re gonna be blowing each other up. We have to begin to redefine the terms of what woman is, what man is, how we relate to each other.

JB: But that demands redefining the terms of the western world…

AL: And both of us have to do it; both of us have to do it…

JB: But you don’t realize that in this republic the only real crime is to be a Black man?

AL: No, I don’t realize that. I realize the only crime is to be Black. I realize the only crime is to be Black, and that includes me too.

JB: A Black man has a prick, they hack it off. A Black man is a ****** when he tries to be a model for his children and he tries to protect his women. That is a principal crime in this republic. And every Black man knows it. And every Black woman pays for it. And every Black child. How can you be so sentimental as to blame the Black man for a situation which has nothing to do with him?

AL: You still haven’t come past blame. I’m not interested in blame, I’m interested in changing…

JB: May I tell you something? May I tell you something? I might be wrong or right.

AL: I don’t know – tell me.

JB: Do you know what happens to a man-?

AL: How can I know what happens to a man?

JB: Do you know what happens to a man when he’s ashamed of himself when he can’t find a job? When his socks stink? When he can’t protect anybody? When he can’t do anything? Do you know what happens to a man when he can’t face his children because he’s ashamed of himself? It’s not like being a woman…

AL: No, that’s right. Do you know what happens to a woman who gives birth, who puts that child out there and has to go out and hook to feed it? Do you know what happens to a woman who goes crazy and beats her kids across the room because she’s so full of frustration and anger? Do you know what that is? Do you know what happens to a lesbian who sees her woman and her child beaten on the street while six other guys are holding her? Do you know what that feels like?

JB: Mm-hm.

AL: Well then, in the same way you know how a woman feels, I know how a man feels, because it comes down to human beings being frustrated and distorted because we can’t protect the people we love. So now let’s start –

JB: All right, okay…

AL: - let’s start with that and deal.

Essence Magazine, 1984

I’m A Monster (Loki X Vampire!Reader)

Characters: Loki X Vampire!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Blood

Request:Can I request a Loki x reader? She’s on the team and a vampire. When Thor brings Loki to stay at the tower she’s automatically drawn to his scent. They end up falling for each other and he allows her to nip him a few times for bloody treat.

Originally posted by littlemisssyreid

You had been on the team for a while. You were already a bit of an oddball so you fit right in. Fury had you on the team since you were agile, fast, but also incredibly strong. You’re not sure but it might have something to do with the fact that you’re a vampire. Because of this, you had a thirst for blood and so Tony had to pay for bags of blood for you. You only needed a shot of blood once a day to function, but Tony didn’t want to run out and then you be in a bad place where your instincts kick in and someone could get hurt.

Because of your lifestyle and everything at came with it, including accidents, lashing out, and being raised as a natural born killer, you had a strong mind. You could catch peoples scent and know a lot about them without them even speaking to you.

Keep reading

Y’all, I need a Marvel/Emerald City Fusion asap!

Just imagine it, this being Darcy Lewis’ mother..

Originally posted by my-beautiful-wickedness

Yes :) Darcy being the daughter of the Witch of the West.

She’s born and raised in Oz, learning everything Mother West can teach her. But as she gets older, she realizes that Mother West and Aunt Glinda aren’t all they’re cracked up to be and seeks help from Dorothy who she comes to know because of Uncle Roan/Lucas. 

Since she knows that Dorothy travels between Oz and a place called Kansas, she asks to be taken away to a new life where she’s not feared because of her Mother and magic. So a plan is concocted where Darcy “dies” in Oz and Dorothy sneaks her out under the cover of night, and gives her a home with Aunt Em in Kansas.

Darcy of Oz then becomes Darcy Gale Lewis.

Darcy learns to adapt to this new world, is home schooled by Aunt Em and Dorothy (when Dorothy isn’t in Oz), and surprisingly is smart enough to earn a scholarship to college.

Darcy still chooses Political Science as her major, but she’s quite knowledgeable in medicine thanks to Aunt Dorothy. Jane takes her on as an intern and is outed when Thor lands and becomes a trusted ally. Jane, Eric and Thor are the only three to learn of Darcy’s Oz heritage, and the two humans are quite flabbergasted because everyone knows The Wizard of Oz is a children’s tale. 

Darcy then ends up skimming through the true story of Oz and how it’s not just a children’s tale. It’s home and there’s nothing cutesy about it.

Fast forward to after the Avengers are formed and Darcy makes connections with each of them when a tornado, of all things, pops down atop Stark Tower. Everyone thinks it’s the Bifrost, but Darcy knows better. 

It’s Dorthy in full Oz wardrobe: 

Originally posted by emeraldcityedits

Originally posted by nbcemeraldcity tell her that Oz needs her. Oz is under attack.

Darcy then has to tell the Avengers about her heritage and the Avengers all jump at the chance to visit the fairy tale land. And yeah, that’s as far as I got. 

What do you guys think could happen there?


The day has come. On june 12th 2007 i got to Real Madrid with the illusion of a kid who came to a place he dreamed all the time as a kid. Today, 10 years later, i have to say goodbye and stop wearing this crest. Every, every day that i wore this shirt i did it with the same illusion. Today i can only say thanks to everybody who supported me who wrote beautiful history with me. Thanks to each one of you who accompanied me. Thanks to every friend and colegue that will stay with me wherever i go. I also say goodbye to this city, where both my daughters were born and raised. I am feeling very happy for what i have accomplished and i’ll keep your love in my heart. And i’ll say it again…the best of these 10 years? Train every day, share my life with all of the employees of this club. Step in Santiago Bernabeu and feel your love was always magical. In my heart i’ll always keep your love and this feeling of “mission accomplished”. Real Madrid and your love will always be part of my history and my life. Thanks and until forever. Pepe, 6th june 2017

sorry for the mistakes spanish is not my first language 


anonymous asked:

for ur species swap au, has Keith told everyone he's galra? if so how do Shiro and Hunk react to that? What about the humans?

Like right at the start

The group (besides Hunk) find out he’s half garla when they are in his cabin after rescuing Altean!Shiro garrison and when he recovers (who noted is also wearing a shirt with a ‘green alien on it in a sunhat and wearing glasses’ which they gave to him to change into from the prison clothes from the back of the Coran’s minivan) he recognized Keith was Garla straight away. Though it’s not like he is hiding it super well. The humans haven’t met a Garla so they like what, then they learn the history.

In this AU Keith is half but was raised by garlan (his mom and the place in blade in mamora wherever they care for the young) but with Keith half human he aged so so very much faster than the other Galra that were born around the same time as him.

So Keith is like I am a Galra and part a group rebellion against Zarkon and came to Earth after learning to shift into his human form to investigate about Voltron (but also to find out more about his human half, papa where are u. Also went undercover at the Garrison for info but also yeaah i wanna fly. Does Keith get kicked out of the Garrison in this Au? hmm haven’t decided yet)

Lance is like I don’t believe it

(also Human!Allura to Human!Coran: ‘you think this is why he’s so attached to cryptids? that they may be other aliens.’ Human!Coran: ‘I think he just really digs Mothman’)

Keith is like lemme turn purple and show u and then he standing making the face and everyone’s just intensely watching him and he snaps ‘Well I can’t do it with you all watching me!!!!’. Then he admits ok it took ages to shift to human form the first time, so he stuck like that for awhile.

Altean!Shiro is wary of Keith at the start and so is Altean!Hunk when they find him in the castleship. And Keith understands that and gives them space and respects them until over time they are comfortable enough and build up trust. To Human!Coran its like ‘well once I found out the boy was living alone in the cabin in the middle of the desert and wasn’t even having his 5 a day, basically kinda adopted him’ and now the guest room at Coran and Allura’s place been converted into his bedroom with mothman bed covers. Allura’s is oh bro. Lance is rival and now kinda even more pumped, cause rival is half alien yooo. And Pidge is just like ‘maybe the cryptids we try to find were inside us all along’.

“Home is Wherever I’m with You” is a collaborative Raven Cycle fan fiction. The idea is to make a multi-chapter, multi-author Sarchengsey fic where each chapter is written by a different author about Blue, Gansey, and Henry exploring the author’s hometown while on their road trip!

Some Guidelines

  1. The town you sign up for doesn’t have to be where you were born and raised, just a place that you have called home and want to show off to the rest of the fandom. It should be a place you have actually been and know very well. Continental North America only- anywhere you could drive to.
  2. This is a Sarchengsey fic. Your individual chapter needn’t be big on the romance/ship aspect, but it is a Sarchengsey fic. This fic is as much about these three characters in a romantic triad as it is about the cities we love.
  3. Your chapter should be about 1-5k words. The goal is to have 25 chapters, so we don’t want each individual chapter to be novel-length.
  4. If you’d like to participate, sign up HERE. Sign-ups will be open until the 25 slots are full or until June 15th- that’s two weeks! Writing will take place over the next three weeks- until July 6th. Make sure you have time to commit before you sign up.

Again, you can sign up to write a chapter HERE. Once sign-ups are closed, I’ll be in contact with writers for more details. Right now it’s just me, transpersephonepoldma, organizing things, so if you’d like to volunteer to help organize and edit, message me! Have fun, you crazy kids! <3

Hitched (7/11)

a Captain Swan AU fan fiction

Summary:  After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.

Rating: M or MA; some profanity and sex scenes.

Cover art: created by the absolutely fabulous @thesschesthair!!

Links: // ao3 // ch. 1 //  ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 5 // ch. 6 // ch. 8 // ch. 9 // ch. 10 // epilogue

(also @teamhook, @like-waves-on-the-beach, @lenfaz, @followbatb, @stardusted-nymph@optomisticgirl, @xpumpkindumplingx​, and @spartanguard, thank you thank you thank you for reading and requesting tags!)



The name of the bar blared cheerfully from a green marquee over the front doorway.  Despite the cold, the door was thrown open, emitting a generous belch of country music and beer-fueled revelry from inside. Gaudy poinsettia decorations blinked from the front windows, a tinsel-clogged wreath dangling from the door handle.

“The Four-Leaf Clover, huh?” Emma said as they trudged toward it, their boots crunching in the gravel of the parking lot, cars clumped tightly together at the far end. “Sounds like a fun place.”

“Hmm,” was Jones’ only response.

Keep reading

Good Morning Baltimore

Hamwriters’ Write-a-thon: Worldwide Day (4)

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 1099

Trigger Warnings: None

A/N: This is a fic based on where I’m from, Baltimore, Maryland. (Yes, the title is a Hairspray reference.) I was so excited to right this because whenever my city is in the news, it’s never for anything good, but it’s not all that bad here. We have bad places inside the city, just like everyone else, but I wanted to bring to light the good places. I hope you enjoy this!

Originally posted by patgavin

“C’mon Lin! Get excited!”

“I’ve been driving for three hours straight, Y/N; this is as excited as I’m gonna be.”

“I told you to switch with me.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

:0 can you do one where it's like the MC came from america and they all tease her but then (drumroll) SHES ALSO SOUTHERN and has SUCH a drawl and ofc the classic weird southern phrases or pet names and country music n lame stuff like that (pls help my poor georgia born heart) (my accent has killed so many ppl) love u long time

I’m not very Southern tbh but I was born and raised in FL. It’s such an… interesting place to live… The food here is hella good though, for the most part. My blood is practically sweet tea.

-He noticed your accent instantly. I mean who wouldn’t?
-Once he was being gullible to Seven’s pranks and all you said was “Yoosung… bless your heart.”
-He thought it was a compliment.
-Oh Yoosung you have so much to learn
-You should teach him some southern recipes. Please. He is so interested in what southern food tastes like.
-When he finally does try it, it’s so different from what he usually eats, but it’s a pleasant different.
-He finds himself wanting more afterwards.
-You both tend to enjoy making southern dinner together now.
-He finds it entertaining.
-as long as you don’t play country music while you cook

-Even with a southern drawl, he loves your voice. You know why? Because it’s the voice of the love of his life, so of course it’s gorgeous~
-Music to his ears~
-Speaking of music…
-He hates to be judgmental, especially when it involves you… but he doesn’t like country music.
-He can appreciate some aspects of it because it’s music and music is an art, but he can’t get over how it sounds.
-Also, he’s interested in how life in the south is.
-Please tell him stories about the south. He’d love it so much. He just wants to everything about you, and this is obviously a big part of you.
-Anyone that picks on you will be fought.

-She actually finds the way you talk incredibly adorable.
-Besides, you’re presence alone is calming to Jaehee, so she’d love your voice no matter what it sounded like.
-On occasion, you’ll play a song she actually finds herself enjoying.
-It’s typically country songs that are borderline pop songs but oh well.
-When you call her “sweet pea” she feels blessed.
-But you also call everyone you talk to “sweetie” or “baby” or “sweetheart”
-Umm??? I thought I was your baby????
-You explain that where you come from, it’s normal for people to call each other that, especially women.
-She’ll get over it.

-He’s always known the stereotype of American Southerners™ but you’re obviously not uneducated and uncivilized like the stereotypes make you out to be.
-He doesn’t like country music. He much prefers classical music over the stuff you listen to that doesn’t make any sense to him whatsoever.
-But, if it’s what you like, he’s going to deal with it and listen to it to make you happy.
-The only time he’ll willingly listen to country is if you’re the one performing.
-Unless it’s you, he doesn’t care for it.
-One day you suggest cooking dinner for him so he can try how you lived back in the south.
-He tries it and calls it commoner food appreciates your hard work. It was obviously made with more love than his usual food.
-Doesn’t mean he wants to eat it again though it’s too much for him

-You are the target of so many jokes.
-Bless your heart.
-He puts on a fake accent all the time to mimic you.
-His impression is spot on, you hate to admit.
-He’s the kind of person to get offended when you call PhD Pepper “Coke”.
-It is not “Coke”, it is the nectar of the Gods, _____.
-stfu Saeyoung
-He quotes country songs out of context at inappropriate times too.
-If anyone other than him makes fun of you though he gets super defensive.
-Only he is allowed to talk like a redneck and sing Florida Georgia Line in front of you.
-He calls you southern nicknames, in English too. He thinks it’s teasing, but you actually love when he calls you that.

-He thinks your accent is cute and endearing, especially when you talk in English.
-Country isn’t his kind of thing, but if you want to listen to it, of course he’ll allow it.
-He might not like the songs you play, but he can’t bring himself to hate something you like so much.
-He can tolerate it since it makes you happy.
-V enjoys when you teach him more about what it was like growing up in the south, the good and the bad stories.
-It helps him understand you on another level, which is all he really wants in life.
-He’s not a fan of southern food, but he is willing to try it if you wanted him to.
-Literally so open to anything you bring up.

-Your accent had no affect on him.
-Like he obviously noticed it but he didn’t really notice it.
-“_____ has such a thick southern accent.”
-“They do?”
-“…Oh. I guess they do.”
-He doesn’t like country music and he isn’t afraid to express that.
-Sometimes, though, he’ll tolerate it to make you happy. He’ll just be pouting the whole time.
-He of course knows nothing about the south but he’s okay with learning.
-I mean, if it’s about you, he’s willing to listen.
-He wants to know you better anyway.
-From your stories, it’s much different where you’re from compared to Korea. It does capture his attention.
-You can tell he’s listening because he even asks questions for you to elaborate on.
-He probably won’t admit it, but he enjoys learning more about you.

P.S. I hope you read this post in a southern accent because I was thinking in a southern accent while I wrote this.

Meryl Streep’s Acceptance Speech for her Cecil B. DeMille Award in the Golden Globes

Please sit down. Thank you. I love you all. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve lost my voice in screaming and lamentation this weekend. And I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year, so I have to read.

Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said: You and all of us in this room really belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it: Hollywood, foreigners and the press.

But who are we, and what is Hollywood anyway? It’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and educated in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, came up in Central Falls, Rhode Island; Sarah Paulson was born in Florida, raised by a single mom in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids in Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Vicenza, Italy. And Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates? And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, raised in London — no, in Ireland I do believe, and she’s here nominated for playing a girl in small-town Virginia.

Ryan Gosling, like all of the nicest people, is Canadian, and Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, and is here playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. And if we kick them all out you’ll have nothing to watch but football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this, so: An actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that. Breathtaking, compassionate work.

But there was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart. Not because it was good; there was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh, and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter. Someone he outranked in privilege, power and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it, and I still can’t get it out of my head, because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate, when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life, because it kinda gives permission for other people to do the same thing. Disrespect invites disrespect, violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others we all lose. O.K., go on with it.

O.K., this brings me to the press. We need the principled press to hold power to account, to call him on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in the Constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press and all of us in our community to join me in supporting the Committee to Protect Journalists, because we’re gonna need them going forward, and they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once, when I was standing around on the set one day, whining about something — you know we were gonna work through supper or the long hours or whatever, Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is, and we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be proud of the work Hollywood honors here tonight.

As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia, said to me once, take your broken heart, make it into art.

  • “You’re sending us on a work experience weekend?” Leonard asks, looking a little dumbfounded. “It’s a planet that needs some help. We’re gonna go there to teach them a few tricks that are, you know, more in line with the 23rd century.” “Isn’t that directly against the prime directive?” Leonard counters, following Jim as they walk towards the transporter room. “What? I can’t hear you over the found of the experience we’re gonna get,” Jim says, leaning in to kiss Leonard’s cheek. 
  • They’ve visited warm planets before, sure. And Leonard, born and raised in Georgia, knows heat. Likes heat, even, but this is a whole new level of it. It’s humid, too, and very few places in the exotic city they visit have some sort of air conditioning that’s actually working. The hospital seems alright, partially because it’s down in a cave where it’s relatively cool, and Leonard spends as much time down there as he can.
  • Jim takes he heat in stride, though, and Leonard tries not to look too disapproving of the Hawaiian t-shirts and shorts. “You look like a damn tourist,” Leonard says, and Jim laughs. “Let me enjoy the sun, don’t judge me.” “You’re going to get sunburnt. At least make sure you wear protection.” “You know me,” Jim says, sliding his arms around Bones’ shoulders, “you checked us out just a few weeks ago. I’m clean.” “What? No, I mean protection against the sun, you donut.” 
  • Spock is unaffected by the heat. Says something along the lines of “feels like Vulcan”, and continues to walk around in his uniform. Uhura, too, and Leonard is briefly envious that her uniform is but a short dress. Sulu and Chekov spend most of their time just on the beach, taking their time off to go swimming and (in Chekov’s case), interact extensively with the beautiful locals. Jim joins them after his meetings, and, like Leonard expects, he comes home with red shoulders and a very burned backside.
  • “Can’t you fix it?” Jim asks. “It’s a sunburn,” Leonard replies, “it’ll go away.” “Bones, darling, please-” “I warned you beforehand,” Leonard says, and Jim grunts as he lies down on his stomach. Though he shrieks when cold liquid lands on his back. “What the f-” “It’s just sun cream,” Leonard says, “helps with the burns.” “Warn me next time,“ Jim says, though he relaxes when Leonard’s hands massage his shoulders and his back. “Yes, because your burned skin is a telltale sign of how well you listen to my warnings,” Leonard replies. 
  • After business is done, though, it’s nice. All of them spend time on the beach. Jaylah and Scotty pick up surfing. Jim, Uhura, Spock, and Leonard go swimming. Chekov and Sulu organise a late night barbecue in the sand. And, really, Leonard finds himself quite relaxed afterwards. 
  • But the airconditioning in their room is poor. It’s a ceiling fan that doesn’t spin that well at all, and both Jim and Leonard lie in bed above the covers. Jim turns around, shifting closer, and he’s running his hand over Leonard’s chest. Leonard puts his PADD away, glancing at Jim with a small smile. “You didn’t really send us here for work experience, did you?” “No,” Jim admits, “I thought we deserved a holiday. But knowing you guys, you don’t really relax unless it’s something spontaneous, so I said nothing to you and Spock.” “The others knew?” “Chekov and Sulu, yeah,” Jim says, “they picked out the planet. Don’t think they’ve left the beach since we got here.” Leonard laughs, though, that turns into a tired groan when Jim presses himself even closer, kissing over Leonard’s cheek and down to his neck. “Jim,” Leonard huffs, “it’s a 100 degrees in here.” Jim laughs, straddling Leonard’s hips anyway. “Maybe, but I’m in desperate need for some Vitamin D.” Leonard opens his mouth to argue that - they’re on a tropical planet, after all - but when Jim kisses down his chest, hands roaming eagerly over Leonard’s body, the doctor wisely keeps his mouth shut.  
Part 9 - The Boy from New York

Recently I got off from Grindr for quite sometime. I met this guy from Instagram actually..He liked some of my pics from my IG so I returned the favor of course. He texted me. 

Dylan : Hey hey :)

Me : Hello there

Dylan: you are cute. Are you in KL ?

and on and off we texted. We talk about music and beaches. He asked me out to grab a coffee nearby a famous cafe in KL. And so we met yesterday late afternoon. The conversation was pretty good. He’s actually a Chinese, born and raised oversea and studying in New York now..came to KL just for travel purposes. He’s 21 , cute with a good looking face and charming personality. Despite us being 21 and 20, we talk about politics, recent news : United, music and even about my relationship status etc. 

Dylan : Hey do you wanna talk some where else ? maybe we could hang at my place, I could show you some of my books and i can make you some tea too

Me : yeah sure. Since I don’t have any plans tonight anyway (I was doubting that maybe he’s hinting for my ass but Im okay with it)

When we reach his apartment it was pretty cozy and decent with a view of the KL city. He continue our deep conversations about ‘Open Relationship’ and he knew that I am in a relationship currently. I was sitting on the floor leaning against his bed while he was sitting on the bed giving me a massage on my shoulder while we’re talking. Until I rest my head on the bed looking at his eyes (purposely just to act cute haha sorry if it sounds too slutty) and he was shy 

Dylan : dont look at me like that haha. Im shy

Me : ( I didnt said anything but just smile and laugh at him while looking at him)

Dylan : you’re so cute you know that ?

He gave me a kiss on the lips and the next thing we knew was we’re kissing passionately on the bed. I was on top of him while he’s lying on the bed. His hands were grabbing my ass and slowly removing the buttons from my shirt. And the moment when I remove my shirt his hands reaches for my chest and squeeze my nipple, licking it slowly as i moan because it felt so good. And before I remove his shirt he said

Dylan : hold on I need to check if I still have it (rushes to the drawer)

Dylan : i still have the condoms. (Gladly Smiling)

Me: Hey but I havent wash it tho…

Dylan : do you wanna go take a shower ?

Me : (moving towards him and gave him a kiss) Sure :) gimme a some time

As I was washing my ass in the bathroom. I was thinking, ‘holy shit I didn’t thought of getting a dick tonight !) After I finish washing up. he turned off the lights in the room but he lighted up a candle along with the view from the window. It definitely sets up the mood for sex even more ! He held my hand and lead me to the bed start kissing me from the lips to the ears and neck. God I love his deep English Accent ! it turns me on so much ! all the way to playing my nipple I was in cloud 9. he took the lube and started touching my hole. As I lean next to his ears.

Me : You’re lucky. I just shaved yesterday :) (Whispering next to his ears)

Dylan : Fuck I love your ass. So Smooth !

as he finger me slowly and I moaned. And we were in a 69 position so that he could play with my ass while I suck his cock. As usual tops loves the blowjob that I gave. he was pretty impressed with my skills too.

Me : fuck me now please. I want it now

He took the condom and wore it we were in a military sex position as he slowly put his cock inside of me it felt so good. He was holding my legs up in the air kissing it and thrusting his cock inside of I moaned shyly looking at his handsome face. He loves my ass so much that he moan too while fucking me. Running his hands all over my body while fucking me. While Im stroking my own wet cock I told him I’m close Im gonna cum soon. And I did. I know its pretty fast but it was just TOO HOT !

Me : I am sorry I just could not hold it anymore.

Dylan : its okay. Do you still wanna continue ?

Me : of course. let me make you feel good too.

Dylan : Alright. How would you like me to fuck you ?

Me : (Smirking) Doggy hehe.

I was in position ready for him to fuck me from behind. As he slaps my ass while fucking me gently in and out of my hole. While my face is just lying on the bed enjoying his cock in me. I swear the sex was so good.

Dylan : God I fucking love your ass. 

Me : yeah fuck me from behind.

Dylan : Fuck yea.

As he moaned as he cum in the condom. My ass was so wet. Like really wet. We cleaned up in the shower room together, help him out to change the covers of the bed sheets.

Dylan : Hey you wanna grab dinner or something ?

Me : No sorry. I need to head home.

Dylan : sure. You in a hurry ?

Me : not really but just wanna be home at this hour. Just in case if my boyfriend ask me my whereabouts :)

Dylan : Sneaky. well I really enjoyed. Hope you do too.

Me : See you next week :)

PS : please stop asking if the stories were real or not. Its real. xoxo

8 Ball - JiKook

haha. i am not sorry at all for this. like. AT ALL. This was an old 5sos fic i wrote last year and i decided to redo it as a JiKook smut so yeah~ enjoy~

Genre; Smut//Corny jokes galore. 

word count: 3,985

pairing; Jungkook x Jimin


Saturday nights were meant to be fun. But when you got stood up for a date they became less so. Jimin was determined not to let this night go to waste though as he sat at the bar of his favorite hole in the wall hangout.

It was small, but not too small that it felt cramped. It was the perfect size for someone like Jimin to blend in and people watch as he drank his Soju and Coke..

It was as he was doing this that he took what he thought was his final glance around the bar, and spotted something that peaked his interest.

Leaning over one of the pool tables was a tall, clearly well built, boy with tight skinny jeans and a t-shirt that had slightly ridden up his back, exposing a small stretch of smooth skin. Almost as if he had felt Jimin’s gaze, he stood up and turned so he was looking right at him. A light blush spreading over Jimin’s cheeks.

JImin tried not to make it a habit of staring at people in public, but for some reason he just couldn’t make himself look away. There was something about the cocky look in the boy’s eyes that drew him in. The hint of mischief shining through just enough to make his stomach flutter with butterflies.

Jimin shook his head, fully aware that he had been caught staring. The smug smile on mystery boy’s face letting him know that he had noticed.

Just as Jimin was about to turn tail and leave, the man mouthed something at him that looked like ‘come here’ but the sound of it was lost to the voices of people around them. Jimin threw him a confused look before shrugging his shoulders dramatically, his finger pointing to himself.

This earned Jimin a laugh, the boy throwing his head back slightly exposing his smooth neck before looking back at him. He smiled, nodding his head as he pointed at Jimin with another one of his cocky smiles gracing his lips.

Taking a deep breath Jimin stood up made his way across the bar’s dance floor and over to where the pool tables were. The closer he got to him the more Jimin could see how incredibly handsome he was.

From a distance he was just good looking, but up close he was something else. He looked like someone who should be in a suit and tie at some fancy restaurant instead of in a small bar wearing skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. Yet he looked as if he was exactly where he wanted to be.

As Jimin stepped up onto the slightly raised area where the pool tables were he stumbled slightly. His foot catching on the raised up edge throwing him forward. But before he face planted into the floor he felt a large hand wrap around his wrist, catching him and pulling him up.

“You okay down there?” Jimin was caught off guard at how close mystery man was to his face, his nose just inches away as he smiled at Jimin.

“Um, yes. I’m fine.” Jimin stuttered slightly as he stood up straight and gave a small laugh, trying to diffuse the awkwardness in the air. “That actually happens to me pretty often.” Jimin smiled and glanced down to where his hand was still wrapped around his wrist. His eyes following the movement as the man let his fingers fall away.

“So, can I ask why such a cute guy like you is here by yourself?” Jimin watched his lips move as he spoke, captivated by the way he ran his hand through his hair.

“Oh um, I was supposed to be on a date.” Jimin blushed, his fingers lacing together in front of him to keep from fidgeting.

“Supposed to be?” He raised one eyebrow and looked to be in deep thought at this new information. “What kind of idiot stands up someone as beautiful as you?” Jimin was shocked at the genuine sound of confusion in his voice, the little butterflies fluttering again.

“Well, I guess you’d have to ask him yourself.” Jimin shrugged, a hint of a smile on his face.

“He must be pretty stupid if you ask me.” He laughed and Jimin couldn’t help but think that it was the most attractive sound he had ever heard  as his nose scrunched up slightly and he tilted his head back just a little bit. “Well, if you have nothing better to do, what do you say to a game of pool?” he leaned back and held his pool stick in between his legs, the smile on his face making him look younger.

“I actually don’t make it a habit of playing pool with strangers.” Jimin took a small step back, making sure not to step back too far to avoid falling.

“Well, my name is Jeongguk. I’ve lived in Busan my whole life and just turned twenty.” he smiled as he stuck out his hand to Jiming. The latter hesitating for a second before placing his hand in Jeongguk’s much larger on.. “This is the part where you tell me your name.” Jeongguk laughed. His eyes lighting up every so slightly.

“Oh, right. Im Jimin, also born and raised in Busan. And I guess I’m older than you because I just turned twenty two.” Jimin blushed slightly as Jeongguk ran his thumb over the back of his hand before letting go to grab another pool stick.

“See, now we’re not strangers anymore.” he flashed his smile again before handing Jimin the pool stick. Their fingers brushing slightly. “Do you know how to play?”

“I know the basics, but it’s been awhile since I’ve played.” Jimin twirled the pool stick in his hands as Jeongguk stepped closer towards him, leaning his pool stick against the side of the table before motioning with his hand for Jimin to step closer.

“Here, I’ll show you how to break the set.” Jeongguk smiled as he stood behind Jimin. HIs arm reaching around so that it was around  Jimin’s. The other one going over his shoulder as Jimin bent down and lined up the stick, using the inside of his thumb and index finger while Jeongguk placed his hands over Jimin’s.

“Just line the stick up with the queue ball.” Jiming could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck as Jeongguk leaned his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “And gently tap it.” Jeongguk whispered the words as he gently moved their hands. The end of the pool stick hitting the cue ball and sending it rolling across the table where it collided with the rest of the balls. Clanking filling the small area round them as the balls rolled across the table.

“Like that?” Jimin turned his head slightly, using the most innocent voice he could manage while trying to suppress the urge to kiss Jeongguk. And from the look on Jeongguk’s face, he was fighting the same urge.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk leaned back, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he pulled back from Jimin. “Just like that.”

Jimin smiled to himself, a plan forming his head to make things a little more fun.

“You know Jeongguk-ah, I think we should make this game a little more interesting.” Jimin smiled his sweetest smile, popping his hip to the side slightly and leaning against his pool stick.

“Oh? And how do you suggest we do that?” Jeongguk folded his arms across his chest, one eyebrow raised as he smiled.

“How about the loser buys drinks?” Jimin mentally smirked to himself. Because no matter how this ended, they would end up back at the bar together. Which meant more time with one another and Jimin wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

Jeongguk’s eyes went wide for a split second, his pupils dilating slightly before he smiled at Jimin.

“Alright deal.” Jeongguk said with a nod, moving around to the other side of the pool table and lining up his shot.

With a smirk on his face Jeongguk managed to sink a ball into the corner pocket, his face lighting up as he easily made another shot.

“You may want to get your card ready for those drinks.” Jeongguk smiled as he made his next shot, only this time instead of hitting the ball he wanted he sent the queue ball right into one of the pockets and let out a groan as Jimin laughed.

“You were saying Jeongguk?” Jimin cocked an eyebrow as Jeongguk stood up straight, leaning back against the wall as Jimin placed the pool stick against his thumb and sunk his first ball, followed by two more.

From the corner of Jimin’s eye he could see Jeongguk watching him. A smile on his face as Jimin moved around the table to position himself for his next shot. Jimin decided to give Jeongguk a little show by popping his hip out as he bent over the table.

The rest of the game went by fairly quickly, ending with Jimin sinking the eight ball into the corner pocket while Jeongguk looked on with a genuinely surprised look on his face.

“I thought you said you hadn’t played before?” Jeongguk gave a little awkward laugh as he started to place the balls back on the table, arranging them while Jimin sat on the edge watching him.

“No, I told you I hadn’t played in a while. Not that I’ve never played before. There’s a difference.” Jimin laughed as Jeongguk looked up at him, a look of amusement on his face.

“So you played me!” Jeongguk feigned shock as he brought his hand up to his chest and gasped, making Jimin laugh so hard he thought he was going to fall off the pool table.

“I did not! It’s not my fault you weren’t listening properly!” Jimin leaned back, his hands braced on the edge of the table as he let his feet swing in front of him before jumping down and making his way back towards the bar.

“You coming hotshot?” Jimin looked over his shoulder and stopped walking when he saw the look Jeongguk was giving him. He looked like someone who was contemplating the meaning of life while leaning against the pool table, a serene smile taking place on his face.

“Yeah. I’m coming.” Jeongguk nodded before following Jimin, the smile on his face never leaving.

The way he was looking at Jimin made his heart flutter and his face heat up as he sat down. His elbows propped on the edge of the bar.

Jimin turned so he could watch Jeongguk take the last few steps before he was sitting down next to him, his body still a good few inches taller than him even though they were both sitting.

“So, what are you drinking Jimin?” Jeongguk did that thing with his eyebrow again, making him look like someone who was up to no good while managing to still look handsome.

“Coke and Soju, of course.” Jimin smiled, proud of the fact that he could hold his liquor better than most people thought he could.

“That’s a pretty strong drink.” Jeongguk mused to himself mostly as he flagged down the bartender and ordered two drinks.

“Yeah they can be when made right. That’s why I like them.” Jimin laughed and thanked the bartender when he placed the two drinks in front of them. Immediately taking a sip of his and smiling as the cool liquid filled his mouth.. “You don’t have to drink a bunch of them to get a good buzz going.”

“Oh yeah? So you drink these often then?” Jeongguk leaned in a little bit closer so that his face was  just a few inches away from Jimin, the scent of Jeongguk’s cologne filling his senses as he tried to keep himself from leaning in to get a better smell of it.

“Yup. It’s my drink of choice most of the time.” Jimin smiled, his eyes turning up with the motion as he took another drink, looking down to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.

As he looked down Jimin’s eyes just happened to land on Jeongguk’s crotch.  Immediately noticing Jeongguk shifting and it didn’t take Jimin long to realize why.

He had a boner, a large one that caused Jimin to choke on his drink as it slid down his throat.

Jimin blushed as he looked back up at Jeongguk and smiled. A daring thought popping into his head.

“Looks like someone has a little problem.” Jimin looked Jeongguk dead in the eyes as he took another sip of his drink, praying that it would give him the courage to actually do what he was thinking.

“Wha-at?” Jeongguk choked on his drink as he looked at Jimin, a wild expression on his face as Jimin looked down at his crotch again and then back up at his face.

“Well, maybe not so little by the looks of it.” Jimin giggled a little bit as he downed the rest of his drink of hopped off of his barstool. Wobbling slightly as he was now feeling the effects of his drink, and grabbed Jeongguk’s hand and pulled him along with him as Jimin made his way to the bathroom at the back of the bar.

It was at this moment that Jimin was extremely thankful that the bathrooms here were all single stall bathrooms.

“Where are we going Jimin?” Jeongguk asked with a small chuckle, the tone in his voice telling Jimin that he knew exactly where they were going.

“To fix your trouser problem. Obviously.” Jimin laughed as the words left his mouth. Slightly shocked that he had actually said them and Jeongguk seemed to have the same reaction.

“You don’t have to Jimin, really I-.” Jimin cut him off before he could finish.

“I want to.” was all he said before opening the bathroom door and pulling him inside, making sure to lock it before he turned to look at Jeongguk.

The two of them stood there for a moment awkwardly, seeing as neither of them had done this before.

Jimin slowly walked towards Jeongguk, filling the space between them until Jeongguk was backed up against the wall. Jimin took a deep breathe to calm his nerves before standing up slightly on his tiptoes, his face now level with Jeongguk’s.

For a split second everything seemed to still around them, the air filled with silence as they looked at one another. Jimin’s face slowly closing the space between their lips before pressing his soft lips to Jeongguk’s gently.

As soon as Jimin got that first taste of Jeongguk’s lips on his, he wanted more. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips against the taller boys harder, a soft whine leaving his lips as Jeongguk hesitantly ran his tongue over Jimin’s bottom lip.

Jimin let his hands fist in the material of Jeongguk’s black t-shirt, moaning louder when Jeongguk tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His tongue pressing more insistently against Jimin’s lip until Jimin granted him access to his mouth.

Jeongguk let out a deep sigh, the feeling of it brushing against Jimin’s lips and making him shudder as he felt raw need and want for Jeongguk course through his veins.

With a moment of bold desire, Jimin let one of his hands wander down Jeongguk’s chest, to his stomach, then down to the top of his tight jeans. His fingers brushing over the button before popping it loose. He could feel Jeongguk suck in a breath against his mouth as Jimin slowly pulled the zipper down, his hand slipping under the band of his boxers to slowly stroke his hard cock.

Jimin felt the shudder that ran through Jeongguk’s body as he tightened his grip before pulling away completely. When he looked up he could see that Jeongguk’s eyes had taken on a glassy look and that his pupils were blown wide as he watched Jimin sink down to his knees slowly. A shy smile on his face as he pulled down Jeongguk’s jeans and boxers. His erection springing free.

Jimin smiled at the sight of Jeongguk’s hard length, his breathing going shallow as he wrapped his hand around Jeongguk’s hip to steady himself.

Jimin licked a straight line up the base of his length, flicking his tongue when he reached the tip.

Jeongguk let out a deep moan, giving Jimin more incentive to  take him into his mouth. Jimin swirled his tongue around the head as he worked on gradually fitting more of Jeongguk into his mouth. Jeongguk’s hand lacing itself into Jimin’s darkhair.

Jimin let out a moan at the feeling of Jeongguk gently pulling on his hair. The vibrations of it sending another shiver through Jeongguk’s body.

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that Jimin-” Jeongguk’s voice was shallow as he tried to steady his breathing. His eyes squeezing shut as his grip in Jimin’s hair tightened.

All of this only spurred Jimin on further, his mouth slowly sliding down Jeongguk’s length until his nose was flush with Jeongguk’s skin. The head of his cock nestled nicely in Jimin’s throat.

Fuck me.” Jeongguk whispered, his head smacking against the wall as he threw it back with a moan right at the moment Jimin swallowed tightly around Jeongguk’s cock. His thighs pressing together to give himself friction as he grew harder in his jeans.

Jimin smirked around Jeongguk’s length, his throat tightening around it as he let out another pleased hum. The sensation of all of it sending Jeongguk into a blissed out state and he came down Jimin’s throat with no warning.

Jimin was quick to pull back, leaving just the tip of Jeongguk’s cock in his mouth as he swallowed around it. Milking Jeongguk for all he was worth as the younger boy sagged against the wall, his legs feeling weak as he gently ran his hands through Jimin’s hair, his heart pounding in his chest as Jimin licked all around his shaft, the overstimulation making it hard for Jeongguk to control his breathing.

“C’mere.” Jeongguk breathed out, pulling Jimin up to him and crushing his lips to his. Jeongguk moaned at the taste of himself on Jimin’s lips, his tongue pushing roughly into his mouth with his desire to taste all of Jimin mixed with the taste of himself as Jimin pressed himself into Jeongguk.

The two of them let their hands roam over every part of each other that they could reach, Jeongguk’s hands skimming down Jimin’s sides and around his waist. Pulling his shirt up slightly so he could slip his hands under it and feel the smooth skin of Jimin’s back.

Jimin moaned into the kiss, his breathing becoming more erratic as Jeongguk’s hands made their way down to the top of his jeans, his fingers slipping under them to grab at his butt. Fingers pressing into the skin just shy of too hard, but hard enough to make goosebumps cover Jimin’s skin as he tilted his head back.

“Like that baby?” Jeongguk breathed the words out against Jimin’s throat, his tongue tracing down it before setting at the base and sucking harshly.

Jimin let out a sound that was a mix between a moan and the word ‘yes’, his hands fisting in Jeongguk’s hair to keep him right where he was as Jimin’s knees started to give out.

Jeongguk was quick to prop one of his legs in between Jimin’s, his thigh supporting the smaller boy as he pressed it up against Jimin’s now painfully hard cock.

“Jeongguk-ah~” Jimin moaned out as he pressed himself harder against Jeongguk’s thigh, his hands pulling harshly on his hair as Jeongguk slid his hands further down Jimin’s ass. Fingers now teasing his hole as he pressed his thigh harder into Jimin’s crotch. A broken gasp filling the air around them.

“I bet i can make you cum like this Jiminie. With just my hands as you ride my thigh. What do you think?” Jeongguk nipped at Jimin’s collar bones, little red marks forming on his smooth skin as Jimin’s breathing became more shallow.

When he didn’t answer Jeongguk pulled harshly on the skin of Jimin’s neck with his teeth, the feeling bordering the line of pain and pleasure causing Jimin to whimper and let out a gentle sob of the word ‘yes’.

“Good boy.” Jeongguk smirked against Jimin’s skin before pressing the tip of his index finger into Jimin’s hole. The stretch just enough to sting but not enough to be painful.

Mmmm.” Jimin whined as he rutted down against Jeongguk’s thigh. The need to cum increasing as Jeongguk teased his hole. “Jeongguk~” Jimin panted, his breath fanning out against Jeongguk’s cheek as Jeongguk pressed his finger in further, just enough for it to barely brush over Jimin’s prostate.

Jeongguk continued to massage his finger over the sensitive little bundle of nerves, succeeding in turning Jimin into a moaning mess as he rocked back and forth against Jeongguk’s thigh.

It didn’t take long for Jimin to reach his release, his forehead resting in the crook of Jeongguk’s neck as he came undone. A high pitched moan echoing in the small space around them as Jeongguk used his body to hold Jimin up.

The two of them stayed like that for a few minutes, both trying to even out their breathing while letting themselves bask in their post orgasmic state.

Jeongguk was the first to speak, his voice still hoarse. “That was pretty amazing. I’ve never made anyone cum like that.”

Jimin let out a shy giggle, Jeongguk’s hands now running through his hair again in a strangely intimate way.

“Well I’ve never cum just from riding someone’s thigh before.” Jimin looked up to see that cocky smile plastered across Jeongguk’s face.

“Well, I guess we make a good team huh?” Jimin had to suppress the laugh that was trying to escape as he playfully shoved Jeongguk’s shoulder and stood up. His legs slightly unstable as he leaned back.

“Guess we do.” Jimin blushed, becoming shy all of a sudden as they stood there awkwardly.

It wasn’t until someone was knocking on the door that they realized they were just standing there staring at one another.

“We should probably go now. Before they think we died in here.” Jeongguk sighed as he pulled his boxers and jeans back up, the slightest hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks.

This time Jimin didn’t try and hold back the giggle, the sight of Jeongguk blushing was just too much for him.

“They probably do think we’re dead considering all the moaning.” Jimin smirked as Jeongguk bit his lip, desperately trying not to laugh as Jimin opened the door. The blush on his face deepening as the man outside the door gave them a look that said ‘I know exactly what you two were doing in there’ as they quickly walked past him.

Jeongguk’s arm going over JImin’s shoulders as they walked out of the bar.

“Oh man! I’ve never been caught right after having sex before!” Jeongguk laughed as Jimin wrapped his arm around his waist.

“Me either!” Jimin laughed along with him as they walked towards the exit, the cool air hitting them in the face as they walked out of the bar.

“I know this sounds strange, but I really want to see you again Jimin.” Jeongguk leaned over Jimin as they made their way over to his car.

“It doesn’t sound that strange Jeongguk.” Jimin’s voice came out soft and shy, which was odd considering what they had just done in the bathroom.

“So is that a yes?” he whispered as his face leaned in closer to Jimin’s.

“Yes.” Jimin breathed out as Jeongguk kissed him again. This time it was different. It wasn’t rushed or urgent, just soft and sweet with the promise of another time.