#Indian Street Metal

[wikipediapictures]

Gulab jamun

[glorious-spoon]

hello!! happy tuesday!! requesting 💛 💗💜 for buddie :)

thank you!! 💛 - reunion kiss/relief

The Indiana Jones Thing [On AO3] 2.3K words | buddie | near death experience | first kiss

-

The horizon dips and sways in Buck's field of vision, salt stinging his eyes and lips. His whole world is shades of blue: the ocean around him and the cloudless sky overhead, the white sun beating down. His skin from the shoulders up feels hot and stiff with sunburn, but everything else is cold. Even in the middle of the day, the ocean is so fucking cold.

The Pacific Ocean is one of the warmest oceans in the world, second only to the Indian Ocean. He read that somewhere, but he can't remember where, or what got him on the topic in the first place. It might have been Chris, or it might have been one of his insomnia-induced late-night Wikipedia binges in those shaken weeks after the tsunami.

It doesn't feel warm. Not right now. His clothes cling damply to him—t-shirt, uniform pants, his boots long-since kicked off and lost to the depths. He doesn't know how long he's been out here, or how much daylight he has left. How much daylight they have left to search for him, if anyone is even looking.

They're looking for him. He believes that. He does.

It's just—he's been treading water for a long time.

Perspective is strange from the water. The waves move him, breaking against his face, blurring his vision, but all he can really see from this angle is the vast blue ceiling of the sky. Birds, sometimes, high and fast-moving. Contrails, even higher than that, sunlight glinting on metal, streaks of vapor spreading out behind. He has a crazy, futile urge to wave his arms and scream every time one passes overhead, like someone's going to spot him from a jet forty thousand feet in the air.

All he can do is keep swimming. The water slips around his arms as he moves, a steady repetitive motion that's as slow as he can make it without actually sinking. Frog kicking to conserve his energy. He's a strong swimmer, always has been. He can do this. They're out here looking for him—he knows it. That means it's his job to stay alive long enough for them to find him.

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming," he mumbles, a cracked, rasping singsong, and the sound of his own voice startles him so badly that he loses the rhythm of his strokes for a moment and goes under. When he finally surfaces again, sputtering, there's a low, rising rumble, the waves around him getting choppier.

Tsunami, he thinks vaguely. But it wouldn't feel like this. Out on the open ocean, tsunamis are fast-moving but barely perceptible on the surface. It's only when they move into the shallow waters closer to shore that the devastation starts. Flooded streets. Toppled cars. A small, precious body clutched in Buck's arms, or falling away into the water with devastating finality.

The rumbling is getting closer. Buck spins clumsily and blinks for a few moments, wondering if it's just a mirage that's about to blur and vanish into the punishing brilliance of the sun on the water. But it stays, and it gets closer: the sleek white shape of a patrol boat cutting through the water toward him, U. S. COAST GUARD printed across his hull.

Buck starts laughing, ragged and breathless. Maybe he's crying, too, or maybe that's just the saltwater stinging his eyes. The sound of the engine vibrates in his chest, in his ears, as someone in a wetsuit drops into the water and starts swimming toward him with long, smooth strokes, RFD towing behind him. For a wild instant, Buck thinks it might be Eddie, but of course when the man gets close enough to make out any detail, he's a stranger. Older, weather-beaten face, no-nonsense expression.

"Alright, Firefighter Buckley," he says as soon as he's close enough, and it's the best thing, the best thing, Buck has heard in hours. "I'm gonna push this floatation device to you, and I want you to grab it and hold on. Got it? Can you do that for me?"

"Y-y-yeah." Buck's teeth are chattering now. He doesn't know if it's cold or adrenaline or both; a wave of weakness washes through him. "I kn-n-now the d-drill."

The RFD bobs through the water toward him. He grabs at it, clutching it to his chest with such force that he goes under again for a second.

God, it's a relief to let his legs go loose, to feel the buoy hold him up, to have his survival dependent on something else besides his own body and stubbornness.

The guardsman waits until his grip is secure to start towing him back toward the boat. After that, it's all a confused blur of harnesses and hands and the sudden chill of the air as his body leaves the water, sopping wet clothes clinging.

He nearly collapses when his feet hit the deck, the abused muscles in his legs cramping and twanging. His arms feel like two chunks of concrete dangling from his shoulders. Two guardsmen catch him before he can collapse—the man from the water, and a woman who's enough shorter that Buck has to tilt at an awkward angle to lean on her shoulder. Someone wraps a thermal blanket around his shoulders, and he's guided stumbling and clumsy to a padded bench. He blinks, squinting in the sunlight—it's past the arch of the sky, heading toward the western horizon now. It was early morning when the boat broke up and he went into the water.

"H-how l-l-long was I—was I out there?" he manages through chattering teeth.

"It's sixteen forty-five now," the woman says. "Took us a while to pinpoint your location. You're a strong swimmer, Firefighter Buckley. Good thing, too."

More than nine hours. Closer to ten. He's not sure it felt that long. Time sort of stopped having any real meaning out in the water, but he feels every minute of that time now. "Ju-just Buck. Is f-fine."

"Buck." She actually smiles. "Your team is going to be glad to hear that you're alright. Now I have a few questions, just to see how you're feeling. Are you up for that? Someone's getting some dry clothes for you right now."

He nods. His neck feels heavy, and his muscles are throbbing, and the shivering is worse now, even with the blanket. He stumbles through the assessment, and must reassure her that at the very least he's not about to drop dead on her watch, because after that he's released to change into a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that are several inches too short for him but blissfully dry. After that, he huddles back into the thermal blanket and watches the horizon skid by as the boat makes a wide, looping turn. It looks different from this angle. Bigger. He can see more of the world from above the water than he could when he was trying not to drown, and there's a metaphor in that, maybe.

That's the last thought he remembers having before sleep catches him and drags him under.

-

He wakes to footsteps, the sound of voices. All of the sounds feel louder and closer now, and when he finally drags his eyes open, they're docking. It's nearly sunset, the waves reflecting shifting shades of red and gold. It's pretty, he thinks sleepily. Even if it did just try to kill him. Again.

Shouts. Footsteps on the deck. Then hands on his shoulders, gentle but firm, and Buck blinks up at Bobby.

"Hey, Cap," he mumbles.

"Hey, kid." Those might actually be tears in Bobby's eyes, but he's smiling all the same. "Glad to see you're alright."

"Glad those Navy SEAL tryouts actually paid off," says Chim from behind him, and he's beaming too, unabashedly teary-eyed. "You just saved me from having to make one of the worst phone calls of my life, my friend."

"They wouldn't make you notify Maddie," Buck mumbles. "Against regulation."

"Yeah, and I bet you can name the line and letter," Chim says, as Bobby sinks down and wraps an arm around Buck's shoulders, squeezing tight. Buck leans against him. His skin feels itchy and sore from dried salt and sunburn, but at least he's not shivering anymore. Bobby's here, and Chim. He squints past them, but no other familiar faces appear.

"Hen and Eddie are in the other boat," Bobby says, before he can even ask. "They should be here any minute."

"And you are about to be read the riot act, make no mistake about it."

"Wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah, I know." Chim reaches across Bobby to scruff Buck's salt-sticky hair. "Just the worst luck known to mankind. You've got to be down at least three of those nine lives at this point."

The guardsman who examined him reappears over Chim's shoulder as they bump to a halt next to the dock. "Just a few more minutes, gentlemen. We already called it in; the ambulance will meet us there."

"I'm fine," Buck says, more for form's sake than because he thinks it'll get him off the hook here. "Just tired."

Chim scoffs loudly, and Bobby says, "You're going to the hospital, don't fight me on it."

"Okay," Buck yawns.

He closes his eyes again, not quite sleeping so much as drifting, vaguely aware of the warmth and weight of Bobby's arm, the bustle around him. Then he's being coaxed to his feet, muscles screaming all the way. He tilts heavily into Bobby as Chim steadies him from the other side and they shuffle their way off the boat. Bobby delivers him into the hands of the paramedics, and Buck is sitting on the edge of the ambulance bay while his lungs and pulse are examined for a second time, when he hears a ragged voice shouting his name.

"Oh," Buck says, squinting in the dimming sunset. The lights are on around the dock, making it plenty bright enough for him to make out the tall, dark-haired figure sprinting across the lot toward them.

"Buck," Eddie shouts again, and then again, softer, as he stumbles to a halt in front of him. "Buck."

"Hey, Eddie," Buck mumbles. He blinks a couple of times, but his eyes are having some trouble focusing. Eddie's face blurs before him, then settles. Wind-burnt cheeks, wide, wet, beautiful eyes. Chest heaving like he's been sprinting a lot farther than across the parking lot. "Sorry."

Eddie swears under his breath and steps closer as the paramedic lifts her stethoscope away with a deep sigh.

"I'll give you two a moment," she says.

"I'm sorry," Buck says again, and Eddie says, "Fuck, Jesus Christ, don't be sorry," and heaves him into a hug. It's tight enough to be uncomfortable, as sore as he is, but Eddie is warm and breathing quick against his hair as his hands pat over Buck's back like he's checking for injuries and then just clutch at him, and Buck thinks he could probably happily stay here forever.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he mumbles.

A slightly crazed-sounding laugh escapes Eddie. His cheek scrapes against Buck's, warm, uncomfortably scratchy against his sunburn, and then he turns his head just enough to press his lips to Buck's cheekbone, bruising, barely even a kiss. It does something funny to Buck's insides all the same. "I thought you were dead."

"I'm okay."

"I thought you were dead." It's shaky this time. He's pretty sure Eddie is crying. He thinks he might be, too. Exhaustion and relief and the way Eddie is holding onto him like he can't stand to let go.

The kiss, too. That kiss, just now, that was barely a kiss.

"Eddie, hey." Clumsily, he reaches up. His shoulders ache, his arms feel like lead, but he manages to catch Eddie by the arms. "I'm okay."

Eddie nods against him. Then he kisses Buck's cheek again. This time it's softer, almost delicate; this time, it feels deliberate.

"Are we gonna do the Indiana Jones thing here?" Buck murmurs. "Because I'd be cool with that. For the record. If we are."

Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, which is what he was going for, and finally releases him. He keeps a hand on Buck's shoulder, thumb just brushing the side of his neck, the same way he's always held onto Buck. Over his shoulder, Buck can see Hen approaching, but she hangs back.

"Since when have you seen Indiana Jones?" he asks.

"Blame Chim."

"Okay."

"So," Buck stutters, and it's not the cold now, or exhaustion. This is just nerves. "So—so if you—do you want—?"

Eddie breathes out a quiet laugh. His thumb moves carefully against Buck's skin. And they're doing this, apparently, after everything: right here, on the tailgate of an ambulance with half of their family and a couple of mildly impatient first responders looking on. Buck will be embarrassed about that later, probably.

Right now, though, Eddie says, "Yeah, Buck, of course I do," in that fond quiet voice that Buck loves so much. Right now, Eddie leans down again to kiss Buck a third time, carefully, right on the lips.

It lingers sweetly for a moment. A few yards away, Chim wolf-whistles and Hen starts laughing, but Eddie doesn't pull back until Buck is light-headed and breathless and smiling like a dope.

Eddie looks pretty dopey himself: soft-eyed, a little stunned, even though he's the one who started this. Buck leans up for another kiss, and doesn't break it even when his shoulders and neck cramp into painful knots at the movement. He must make a noise, because Eddie pulls back a moment later. He doesn't go far, though. His hand is still warm on Buck's nape.

"Buck," he says.

"Yeah," Buck sighs, trying not to pout. "You're riding with me in the ambulance, though, right?"

"Obviously. And you're coming home with me after."

"Obviously," Buck repeats. He tilts his chin up for another kiss, even though it hurts, and Eddie lets him.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh how I love to hear him call Indian Red"

Voices of a Nation – "Indian Red"

The Backstreet Bar used to be the spot Celeste's parents went to when they were young and lively in the nineties and before they started pumping out kids left and right. Near the French Market off Esplanade in the sixth ward, it became a shrine and the iconic hub for rhythm and blues.

All things Black and New Orleans culture-wise sprang from that bar in their neighborhood. When the owner Etienne King passed away, his widow Lesli King took over. The levees broke in 2005 and nearly washed away the people and history that gave the city its culture and flavor. But the people persevered until Lesli passed during Mardi Gras of 2010. Celeste remembered 2010 well because it was the first year she started sewing with her granddaddy Big Chief Harris Profitt of the Wild Treme Mardi Gras Indians.

Thirteen and full of spitfire energy and overzealous gumption, Celeste spent all year beading and sewing using her granddaddy's jeweler's loupe magnifier over her right eye. The intricate beadwork and patches she sewed and assembled to make her first Indian suit was a proud moment, not only for Celeste, but for that side of her family who ran up and down the streets hunting down other tribes to battle in verbal dexterity and showing off how pretty they looked in their Mardi Gras finery.

Her suit was a patchwork of dark purple, lavender, and white micro beads, feathers, and sequins. She showed the fuck out among her kin and her relatives started calling her by the nickname Duchess because she strutted so high and mighty in front of granddaddy's house while the neighbors waited for their Big Chief to come outside on a fine Mardi Gras morning to represent their downtown neighborhood in his fabulous three-dimensional African-inspired suit. No one in Treme ever called her grandfather by his first name. It was always "Big Chief", "Chief", or "Chief Profitt".

Proud to be a Wild Treme Indian, Celeste sewed a new suit every year as was custom. It was expensive, time-consuming, and a true labor of love. Her grandmother had worked as a seamstress for a dress shop and her grandfather was a welder like his father before him, and she absorbed those technical skills of sewing and shaping metal under their tutelage to transform Black Mardi Gras Indian regalia into wearable art. Sadly, she lost interest in making suits by the time she hit twenty-four and began designing the fancy second line parasols, fans, and baskets for several social aid and pleasure clubs instead. That extra source of income helped carry her for over four years. Sometimes on annual Super Sundays she'd re-purpose some old suits to play in with other Mardi Gras Indian tribes that came from all over the city to commune and show off in A.L. Davis Park. It made Big Chief happy to see her on those occasions, although he wanted his youngest grandchild to sew new suits again.

The test of a true Indian was to pour your passion and creativity into needle and thread to kill 'em dead with a new suit annually. Tribes frowned on recycling an old suit and considered it lazy work to don a suit people already witnessed you in. People came out looking for craftsmanship, originality, and style—lagniappe—a little something extra each year. She poured her creative flair into the overly decorated accessories for other people and made a nice coin doing it.

After Lesli died, Grand-mère, along with a cadre of old-timers, lamented that the history of their hood would crumble if the Backstreet Bar died. Grand-mère had been one of dozens of foster-children Lesli looked after over the years, giving some jobs working at the neighborhood bar. Eventually, Grand-mère and Big Chief took over the property instead of retiring when Celeste turned eighteen. It was the bar Celeste headed toward for Mardi Gras Indian practice with her family and tribe.

She didn't want to drive through downtown, but she became the designated driver for three of her besties. Lyfts and Ubers raised their prices during the holiday season and no one wanted to pay outlandish fees when they could look cute in her brand new muscle car. Cruising through the Garden District, she picked up two of her friends and headed down to the French Quarter. They didn't have to stop for food because Grand-mère provided free red beans and rice, fried chicken, and sometimes boiled crawfish and red rice at the bar. She hoped they had a nice spread tonight because her stomach growled and she needed heavy food to soak up the liquor she planned to consume.

Her ex boyfriend committed a flagrant foul that weekend by jumping the gun and telling everyone they had broken up before she was ready. She suspected he wanted to bring out his new woman openly so no one would beat his behind once she blabbed that he'd been running around on her. Truth be told, she was tired of his boring ass anyway, but the general principal of the matter was she wanted to be the first to bail and get her lick back during carnival. Now if she turnt up and shook ass extra hard, people would say she was overcompensating for getting dumped.

"Duchess, turn right…slow down…there's a spot about to open up."

"Where?" Celeste said to her friend Mercy, who sat shotgun.

Mercy pointed to the flashing hazard lights of a taxi. Celeste zipped into the tight spot and breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing worse than searching for parking anywhere near the Quarter or within a one-mile radius in any direction during the carnival season. Mercy checked her smartphone.

"She's on her way out," Mercy said.

Celeste checked her face in the mirror. Although it was only a practice at the bar, she still wanted to look cute. Her giant Medusa locs were pulled back with a leather hair tie high on her head, and her eyeliner and ruby lip stick gave enough sexy unbothered vibes that made her feel confident. She had her girls, a stellar whip that she worked hard for, and time with her tribe to look forward to. Lately, it seemed like carnival festivities were the only way her family got together en mass. Carnival or funerals.

Their friend Joyce hustled out of a popular bakery in the Quarter carrying a box of the popular King Cake, a ring-shaped, hand-braided cinnamon infused dessert. The plastic covering on top showed off the tri-colored icing of gold, purple, and green.

"Hey, girl!" Celeste said as Joyce climbed in the back of the Charger. She gave air kisses to Nae Nae in the back.

"Whew! It's been crazy in there! Some people were mad they ran out of King Cakes that weren't pre-ordered. I am ready to cut up!" Joyce enthused.

Celeste checked her driver's side mirror and pulled out, heading around the narrow block. Clogged streets packed in the tourists, locals, and plenty of cops. She parked four blocks away from the Backstreet Bar and they all climbed out feeling giddy. Normally, Big Chief didn't allow outsiders or non-tribal members to attend Indian practice. But he made an exception that year to help her get over feelings about her ex. Freddie made being in Nawlins central intolerable. He knew everyone in her extended family because he was a police officer who had connections to a political family with high ambitions for him down the road. After their unceremonious break up, she moved into a cute little over-priced cottage far from him, and took an extra part-time job at a chicken processing plant with a goal of saving enough money to head out to California for an extended visit. Celeste had relatives in L.A. and could stay with them for a vacation. Getting away from the Big Easy would help build up a new positive lease on life. Or maybe she'd take a five-day cruise to Mexico. Anywhere was good, just as long as she could escape Freddie and go to a new world for a minute.

That man had wasted her time and love. She wanted to buy a large home and get married. Start a family. Months ago, she gave him an ultimatum that their relationship needed forward momentum and her finger needed a ring by New Year's Day. Cheating was his way of humbling her, and ironically, it brought her great relief. He made life feel stagnant and dull, proving unequivocally that he wasn't The One. She just didn't have the guts to leave first before having something lined up on the horizon.

A crowd of patrons gathered outside a corner in front of the Backstreet Bar, catching the pitiful breeze that attempted to blow through the escalating muggy heat while listening to the thumping music from inside. Celeste glanced at the exterior of the bar painted with colorful images of their tribe, Creole food, and two giant beer mugs clinking together. The name of the bar was graffiti painted above the front door that stood wide open. A "Closed Until 9 P.M." sign taped to the wall kept non-tribal members out for the time being, and a blank-faced bouncer, David, stood vigil on a metal stool.

"Hey David!" Celeste said.

"Duchess!"

David hopped off the stool and gave Celeste a big belly hug because his stomach lopped over his belt.

"I brought my friends to watch with Big Chief's permission. They won't be no trouble," she said.

David looked over the women, his beady eyes taking a liking to Joyce's plump frame.

"Alright now, go get y'all a plate before the good eatin' is all gone," David said to the group. His eyes stayed on Joyce the entire time.

Inside, the raucous shouts of men showered them with the energy of the packed bar and sucked them right into the fold. Family and tribal members were already cutting up, clapping and smacking tambourines in time to an internal beat that swelled throughout the room.

On a small stage across from the bar, a second line brass band made up of young men in their twenties carried the foundational rhythm the others followed. The musical frenzy, sweaty faces, and rocking bodies enveloped Celeste in the comforts of culture. Trumpets, a trombone, and a good faith tuba blasted the familiar jazzy sounds that New Orleans was famous for. Celeste rocked her shoulders, shuffled her feet with slick footwork, and sang the old-time Indian songs.

Joyce placed the King Cake on an open table near Grand-mère who stood regally watching the action. She hugged each one of them. Celeste eyed her father drumming on stage and glanced toward her mother, who mixed drinks at the bar.

It was good to be in the Treme.

She greeted familiar faces and asked "Who dat?" about folks she didn't recognize. Inundated with love and affection, Celeste settled in, bringing a playful zeal to her dancing. Her mother handed her a tambourine at the bar, and she hopped onto the dance floor behind her grandfather and tapped a churchy beat on her left palm. Onlookers who were guests ogled the rare treat of seeing a real deal Indian practice. Their tribe's Spy Boy, Darryl, waved a white handkerchief around, yelped in his warbled tone and pretended to see another tribe's approach. A play uncle named Man-Man started strutting as their Flag Boy and the boisterous sound of voices rose, singing louder than the percussive drum beats onstage. Celeste stayed close to her grandfather, listening for his calls to change the tempo at the drop of a dime.

The Big Chief's salt and a little less pepper hair sweated out into tight curls. His dark hickory brown face stayed bathed in a sheen of earned sweat. Eyes closed and listening for the spirit to arrive, Big Chief struck his tambourine once and hooted, his cries flying overhead and joined by a tribal call-and-response that bolstered his bringing down of the ancestors.

Celeste copied his tambourine strikes to aid in catching the spirit. In four days, the tribe would take to the streets, preening and daring another tribe to outshine them. Thankful for choosing to wear a white t-shirt tied at the waist and comfy jean shorts, Celeste danced, sang, shook her hips and felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders.

Three hours rocked by with chants, foot stomping, and plenty of drinking.

Twirling to her left to show off for her friends, she took some time to eat and gulp down a rum and coke standing in front of the stage. She caught the eye of a man lingering near her right side. Despite the many faces in the bar that blended into a chaotic blur during practice, the stranger's eyes latched onto hers and she couldn't shake them away. He was one of them pretty boys with captivating light eyes and possibly good hair that most people thought Creoles were supposed to have. Celeste's family was bone-Black Creole, the darker kind that still spoke southern, creolized French.

The man stood near some of her male cousins, and God forbid, a childhood friend named Travis X who was a five-percenter and a member of the Nation of Islam. It was impossible to miss Travis's short, high and tight fade and big shiny teeth. Still lurking in the shadows next to Travis, peeping at her moves, Mr. Light Eyes boldly stared right back at her like she was supposed to be sucked up on a plate of hot crawfish and dirty rice Grand-mère served.

Big Chief nudged Celeste to join in on the closing song. Lifting her contralto voice to support her energetic grandfather, she belted out the first opening cry of "Indian Red"

"Madi cu defio, en dans dey, end dans day…"

Their tribe repeated the words like a field holler with a tinge of the blues until everyone was on one accord. They belted out the song that represented the core of their tradition.

"We are the Indians, Indians, Indians of the nation

The wild, wild creation

We won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh, how I love to hear them call Indian Red

I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground…"

Tears welled up in Celeste's eyes while singing with her grandfather. The power of the words enveloped her like a cozy patchwork quilt. Big Chief was getting to the age where he would have to pass the torch onto his oldest son. It was quite possibly his last time leading the tribe. His age was catching up to what his body couldn't carry as well anymore. The heavy tribal suits could weigh over eighty pounds or more. She wanted to dance in the streets with him one more time before a shift took place. She heard the trembling in his voice…they all did. Everyone in that packed bar knew they were witnessing the closure of an era under his leadership. Her uncle Alston would be a capable chief, but Big Chief Harris Proffit was the only chief she had known representing her people since she was a baby. He was eighty-two. Time to hand down the baton.

The last note hung in the air and Celeste broke away, grabbed her smokes from her purse, and headed outside to clear her head. Big Chief didn't need to witness her sadness. He wasn't dying, just nearing retirement. But it felt like a passing on anyway.

Back on the corner and away from David, who allowed regular patrons to come inside since practice was over, Celeste opened up a pack of Newports and tried lighting a cigarette. She flicked her lighter. It flashed and petered out. She huffed, and the cigarette dangled from her lips. A sign from God to quit, probably. A spark of another lighter glowed under her bottom lip.

Travis had followed her outside. So did the stranger and a few other men from Travis's Hotep crew.

"Sister Celeste, you know you should give up the devil's ways with this smoking," Travis said.

Celeste puffed to catch the flame, and Travis removed the lighter.

"Then why help me out?" she said.

She took a long drag and blew out away from his face and noticed a dark tattoo on the stranger's muscular right arm. An eight-pointed star floating above a crescent moon. Shit. Another Muslim. Last thing she wanted was to be lectured and recruited to be the next Betty Shabazz to a Malcolm X wanna-be. At least Travis wasn't slanging his bean pies or the Final Call at the bar. A real vibe killer. One thing the Nation had right by her was how they cleaned up Black men and turned them into fine specimens of manhood. She glanced at the tall, pretty boy with the hypnotic eyes. His plush lips looked so succulent for long, lusty kisses.

As-Salaam Alaikum, she muttered in her mind.

Her stomach fluttered at the grin on his face. Like he heard her thoughts. He turned to look at a few patrons entering the bar, and she glimpsed more ink on his left arm. A marine tattoo with black USMC lettering. An eagle sat on top of a globe underneath it, and Celeste looked away when he rested his gaze on her face again. Her cheeks warmed up like she was in a hot bath, and she parted her lips to take in more air. Feeling breathless, she jabbed her cigarette against the wall and tossed it in a garbage bin near the entrance.

"You ready, Duchess? They playing the down home blues in there and the old folks are taking over the dance floor," Nae Nae said with an annoyed stank face, joining Celeste outside with Joyce and Mercy.

Joyce handed her a paper plate with a piece of King Cake on it. Grateful for the distraction, Celeste took the plate and broke off a piece of the pastry. Stuffing it in her mouth, she chewed and Mr. Light Eyes pierced her soul with another drawn-out stare. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and pulled out a tiny brown plastic baby.

"Oop, you know what that means!" Joyce said.

Mr. Light Eyes seemed to float away with Travis and their male entourage down the street.

"I gotta bring the King Cake next year," Celeste said softly, holding the plastic baby in front of her lips, eyes still tracking the round, firm ass of the stranger in his jeans

The marine glanced back at her and smiled. She dropped her head forward, feeling lightheaded.

"You okay?" Joyce asked.

Celeste pocketed the plastic baby and linked arms with her friends.

"I'll go change inside and we'll be on our way! Let's get to clubbing!" Celeste said.

Chapter 3 HERE.

Masterlist.

Author's Note:

Hey y'all, the rest will drop on Halloween as promised! I had to set up my masterlist post now to make it easier when I upload the rest of the parts. Please share/reblog so we can get another Black fandom growing!

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[yunazxxx]

more toxic megan and lara whennnnn 🙏

pairing ≫ lara raj x megan skiendiel

content warnings ≫ toxic relationship , lara's really manipulative , bsf!reader and manon , jealous!lara , more miscommunications , manhandling , hate sex , lara's really rough with her , established relaionship (girlfriends) , toxic ass relationship , they’re both kinda toxic though, make up sex , g!p megan ,, etc

word count ≫ a little over 2k

—

"you shouldn't invite her" the brunette spoke from her closet while she was getting dressed, the ginger looked over at her other friend for words of advice while a drafted message sat between her and her girlfreind, lara.

"(y/n), what should i do?" megan asked, with a pout on her face "it's not a good idea, but you do what you feel is right, we don't control you" and she just nodded. she sent the text and went and got dressed, manon came from the closet and began doing her makeup while you finished your hair.

this basically was a recurring process between those two, megan would get invited to somewhere or there would be a party or celebration happening, or maybe just an outing and she would contemplate inviting lara because of how the older would act.

see, lara would normally be so lovey-dovey with her girlfriend, as she should be of course, but it was almost at random that lara would have her moments. megan would always apologize, and beg at lara's feet for forgiveness but this time that didn't happen.

after megan sent this text, it was almost in a instant she got a reply from lara saying she'd be there. megan didn't check her phone until she was in the car, getting ready to drive off. she only replied with an "okay", before driving off to their destination.

a small while later, they arrived, as they drove up, they saw an all too familiar car also drive into the parking lot. windows tinted, with pink undertones, the red metalic glistened outside from the street lights. once the door opened, emerged a slender red haired woman with her black shades on, with what looked to be a full leather outfit.

megan looked out and her mouth was open, lara looked so etheral, it made megan crave the older but she was still "mad" at her. manon pulled the ginger's attention to something else, getting out of the car and going inside, that is.

once the group got inside, manon kept megan's attention on everything else but while they were talking, she could smell the intoxicating perfume the indian woman wore when she passed her. megan felt herself gettng pulled by somthing, no matter what she tried, she couldn't not think about lara.

she was unsure if it was the alcohol that was dragging towards the dancing woman, but here she was, all over lara and dancing with her. it felt like she was on acid the lara's touch made her feel, it was much more than the alcohol.

lara walked away for a bit, going somewhere but megan didn't know. when lara returned she saw some girl all over megan, dancing and kissing on the ginger. they were in a "break" or post-argument barely talking stage, the pair was so on and off no one really knew when they actually were together.

but lara couldn't understand why seeing this made her feel so, angry? she pulled megan off the girl, "back the fuck up" lara said after the girl looked at her funny, she pulled her drunk girlfriend to a private room.

megan wasn't sloppy drunk, or even incoherently drunk, yeah she was a lightweight but she barely drunk anything. "what the fuck was that back there?" lara asked, yelling at the girl while the muffled music blasted through the walls.

megan sat on the bed and sighed, "are you seriously doing this right now?" and lara looked appaled, "the fuck do you mean 'right now'? i just saw some bitch all over my girlfriend and you, the girlfriend, didn't do shit about it"

megan mocked lara as she talked, her hands mimicking a mouth moving as the older yelled, that was before lara grabbed mega's cheeks, squeezing them together. "stop. fucking. playing with me megan!" the redhead yelled at her, each word that came out her grip got tighter.

she let go and megan said six words she never thought she'd hear out of the girl's mouth, "i hate you so fucking much." megan said lowly, now spraled out on the bed from when lara threw her back, "oh you hate me?" lara said, looking at the ginger, "fucking look at me and say it."

by this point of the conversation, manon and megan's other friends began looking for the ginger, after they spoke to the girl who said megan went somewhere with lara. they looked around, almost helplessly due to the dark lighting in the area.

that was until they passed a room, where they could hear their friend yelling, "i hate you lara! don't you understand that?" but they didn't hear a reply back. the group stood at the door, expecting to hear anything but it was just silence.

when megan had yelled this, she was face to face with lara, all the older girl did was pull her into a kiss, one different from the last one they shared. it was one filled with lust, need, and anger. a lot of anger filled that kiss from both ends.

overtime they're kiss grew heated, lara's hands moving on megan's body, pulling the younger's jacket off, and throwing it somewhere while her hands moved down to megan's waist, pulling her body closer. the ginger moaned into the kiss, allowing lara's tongue to slip in.

they broke apart the kiss for air, hurriedly undressing themselves. megan dropped to her knees in front of lara, and lined her tongue to lara's clit, and began sucking on it. lara grabbed a fistful of megan's hair, moving the younger girl exactly where she needed her.

"shit baby..." lara moaned, her head falling back from the pleasure megan brought her. megan moaned against lara's clit, tasting her arousal on her tongue pulling back with a sline of the slime from lara.

the way the older girl tasted made megan feel like she was in another universe, she pushed her head further, making her tongue reach lara's cunt. she point her tongue and pushed it inside of lara. se made the older girl twitch, her moans growing louder.

"w-wait, fuck" lara said before she came, but megan contniued eating her out, quickly getting pussy drunk. "m-megan, baby, hold on" she said and megan pulled off, a pout on her face, "mmh?" she said, her brown puppy-like eyes looking up at lara.

the older girl picked her up and tossed her on the couch that was behind her, "we're gonna do this my way now" the redhead sighed against megan's neck, she bit and kissed at megan's neck, sucking hard enough to make a hickey, plenty of those.

megan whined, griding against lara's thigh while she marked her, lara could feel her trying to gain some friction so she laid her body againt megan's, to where megan could feel her directly against her clothed cock.

"p-please.." megan begged, did she know for what? yes, but no at the same time. there was something about pissing lara off, the arguing then the sex after that would drive megan insane, that made her brain almost complete mush.

lara straddled the girl’s waist, her dripping heat landing directly on megan’s erection. her face was flushed red, she was embarrassed to say the least.

megan squirmed under lara while the older took her time, teasing megan, scratching her using her nails. “oh you poor thing” she said, before smiling.

she removed megan’s belt while sliding her hands inside her jeans, on top of the ginger’s boxer briefs. megan’s hips bucked, a wet spot formed where her tip was, her precum leaking out. lara pulled her into another kiss, laughing against the ginger's lips each time she shuddered.

while the kiss grew deeper, lara pulled megans cock from her boxers and pants, gently stroking the girl. lara broke the kiss, biting her lip and looking into the needy big brown eyes of her sub, kissing her neck while she began stroking her with a decent pace.

megan moaned, her hands holding lara's wrists, moving her hands, trying to make the older go faster. lara retracted her hand after a while, megan whining until lara started kissing down her body and removing her clothes in the same motion.

megan became like a puppet, a doll of some sort. she laid there, allowing lara to do what she wanted, lara moved down her body, meeting up with her boxer briefs which were uncomfortably tight around her cock.

"m-mmh please, touch me" megan begged, her hips failing to stay still. lara looked up at her, “shh baby, don’t wanna draw attention here” she said as the music from outside continued to bam against the walls of the room.

after megan was completely nude, lara took her time playing with her cute cock, loving how neatly taken care of megan was. she took her time, sucking the younger girl off, hollowing her cheeks as she took her deeper.

megan groaned, not knowing what to do with her hands, lara pulled her out and chuckled, “put them on my head baby” and she took her back down her throat, megan followed lara’s instructions and began slowly fucking lara’s throat.

“fuck fuck..” megan moaned out, lara’s warm wet mouth made her feel like she was in another world, the way her tongue slid along every inch.

megan began twitching inside of lara’s mouth, but lara pulled out. “ah ah, not yet” and megan complained but a slap came across her face, making her hold her cheek, leaving her face red.

“don’t try that with me baby, you know better” lara said before straddling the younger’s waist again, this time lining her cunt up with megan’s tip.

megan used all of her might not to cum, seeing the bulge in lara’s stomach made her feel so much closer though. “don’t fucking cum yet” lara said, pressing her hands on megan’s throat but due to the pressure, megan came.

spilling hot ropes of her cum deep inside of the woman above her, “fucking hell” lara said, gritting her teeth. getting off of megan, “w-wait please” megan said, whining. lara looked at her, she looked so disappointed?

megan pleaded with lara to go again once again, she wanted to make her older member cum so badly. lara sighed, giving in, which she hated so badly that she could easily give into megan’s begging.

the younger girl was on top of lara this time, in a missionary position, she held lara’s waist while she slowly thrusted, “don’t you fucking tease me” lara sighed out, she got tighter from how big megan was and the obvious need she had from hearing how megan was begging for her.

megan picked up a nice rhythm, one that made lara dig into megan’s back with her nails, “shit.. baby” lara moaned under her. megan sped up, their skin began slapping together, lara wrapped her legs around the ginger’s waist.

megan fully laid on lara, pushing herself deeper inside of her. lara screamed out megan’s name as she came, making megan have a smug look on her face, lara’s eyes were hooded while megan continued.

“‘m c-cumming” the ginger woman whimpered as her thrusts became sloppier by the second, lara clenched around her, and bit her shoulder, bringing megan over the edge.

she emptied her cum inside of lara, the older girl twitching as she was filled. megan pulled out after a small while, but they had to hurry and get dressed.

lara took the ginger girl out of the bedroom, where they came across manon and megan’s other friends. “what the fuck!” manon exclaimed, “where were you??” she asked, pulling megan from lara.

“i was with herrr” megan said, her cheeks so flushed and the fresh after sex hair spoke more than what manon needed to know.

manon sighed looking at the red haired woman, which she only shrugged. manon let megan go with lara, which she didn’t exactly have that choice since it was damn near impossible to keep the two away from each other.

[trashmouth-richie]

Alright, babe. Let's do Angsty, and your words are: crunch and parking lot

xo -Amanda

@curiositydooropened you asked for angst and bby i’m delivering hot and ready in 30 minutes or less, like surfer boys pizza or a real horny boyfriend. 🍆💦

18+ HEAVY ANGST, upside down themes, s1 canon events with reader thrown into the mix. you’re dating eddie! yay!

<650 words

send me a prompt! from this post :)

A strong western wind bristled the leaves.

Wrestling colors of burnt persimmon and chestnut hues around in a whimsical swirl of a colorful tornado. Some stuck to the inky wet of the grass from the early morning rain. Others found their way like Magellan to a faraway land (a nearby leaf pile) or maybe into the yard of a lucky kid able to rake enough of them up to earn a few dimes in the pockets of their Levi’s. 

It was chilly for the unusual Indian Summer Hawkins was experiencing this fall. As if winter broke through the endless seams of  the late humid summer, demanding to be felt, to be seen.

Could you do that? Be seen? 

You heard the screech of the ailing boy nights before. The squeal of tires from the police station. His mother—you presumed, frantically called his name into the town, like a lone wolf howling into the harvest moon hung sky. 

Yet, the boy remained missing. 

Would you be missed…like the Byers’ boy? Who would call for you? Would he?

Flyers went up, crunching beneath the metallic thump of a steel staple. Into telephone posts, poked through cork boards around the school with colorful tacs. Taped to pay phones and called across radio stations. 

Eddie had assured you that he had probably run away, typical for kids that age who didn’t get what they wanted. But you felt something. Heard things in the night while curled into his chest. It spoke to you. Begged you to look for It.. 

Barbara Holland went missing. Last seen at a party of Harrington’s that you heard him loudly strutting around the hallways about to impress the quiet, pretty freshman girl. 

Again, you told your boyfriend of your worries. Cried to him about the lack of sleep you’d been getting, the nightmarish creatures you’d seen when your eyes were closed. He pulled you into him, forefinger hooked under your jaw, and like a fish on a line, you succumbed to him. It was hard not to when somebody loved you the way Eddie did. 

Had it been days? You couldn’t be sure. 

Street lights flickered. They always did at Eddie’s— it was normal. But maybe you should have been more self-aware. Maybe you would have noticed It. 

Long spindly arms clawed at your coat as you ran, bony fingers hooked into the belt around your waist, pulling you back, further and further towards the opening at the base of a tree. 

You fought, clawed at dirt and muck and shit to escape its clutches. Badly bleeding, injured, breaths away from death— until you weren’t. Until you were somehow nestled beneath foliage— safe, hiding, alone. 

The treeline behind the trailer park was where you laid. Unable to make a sound, caked with dried blood, colored dark on your body, the sharp stink of infection and decay permeated the chilly air, and you knew it was from you. 

Would he know how much you loved him? How proud of him you were for sticking up for kids who needed it?

You’d miss his smile, his dimples, that giddy dorky laugh he couldn’t hide when you tickled his sides. The way butterflies swarmed in your stomach when he kissed you.

Would he miss you…cry for you?

You lie in wait watching the leaves scatter across the dirt parking lot. Body cold and broken, blood trickling to the earth. Time ticking down to what could possibly be your inevitable end. 

[broken-mandolin0357]

BTS and their Indian! S/O

BTS - 방탄소년단

✣ They happen to have a Indian S/O and so they finally experience some Indian shenanigans || Crack, Headcanons, Fluff|| boyfriend! bts x reader| Fem!Reader|

✣ this is my first post, hope you all enjoy it! This is no insult to anyone in particular, all is in good hearted manner, apologies for any mistakes, tell me if there is anything offensive, I will remove it, but this is not meant to marginalize anyone, just something I wanted to write out. Not to offend anyone or put hate on anyone or anything. Also Hindu! Reader.

Kim Seokjin - 김석진

☍ Seokjin with an Indian! S/O is a match made in heaven; you both come from big and divine cultures where you have a lot of amazing food and very pretty people! Seokjin is going to be so happy seeing his Indian! S/O, who is not afraid to show off their culture too other people.

☍ If there is one thing Seokjin loves about India, it's India's food, doesn't matter if it's street food or high class restaurant food, he enjoys street food more often though, enjoying Pani-puri, dahi puri, chaat, dabeli, vada pav, pav bhaji, omelets, etc. Does not care what it is, he is not afraid to try new things!

☍ He wants to see you in all the ethnic dresses of India!!! And now he realizes, how many sarees an Indian woman can have, some of which dates back to eight generations and how expensive they actually are, gets mental break down seeing how many sarees and clothing you have.

☍ Also he no longer does any maths, he asks you to do it and you do in your mind wayyy quickly than anyone else, cause you know Indian's love for maths and anger reach everybody...

☍ He was so shocked to see how less of meat consumption there is in India, literally all the food is vegetarian and so amazing! He packs up bags of foods from family events, weddings, hotels, restaurants and what not to bring to the members so they could try it....

☍ Literally always the victim of aunties bullying how call him, "Gorahae...." and maybe "girlish" always having emotional damage form your family, but all the aunties also fawn over him, feeding him, caring for him oh so gently, while treating you like shit....

☍ He also just I N H A L E S Indian sweets or pani puri, does not matter, he also loves the soda sold on streets, like the tingly feeling on his tongue...He sees how underdeveloped the country is but how caring, traditional, respectful and beautiful it is, nothing like how the Western movies perceive it to be!!!!

☍ Also, you know how women make their husbands pick out of so many beautiful choodees, some made of glass, some of china, some of metal, yeah he wants to buy all, not for you sometimes though, no for himself so he looks pretty just like you!

☍ Oh! He sees how often Indians wear gold, like pure gold is worn by children, who have no sense of money and just put it in their mouths, but every single person he sees has at-least something made of gold on them, might be fake but the amount of gold there is, it's scares him....

☍ Please take him to a mela (Indian amusement parks) he is going to be so happy, it's like seeing a child who has never been to an amusement park, you both will definitely go on the dragon swing ride or something like that.

☍ He will be smug and then you both will be screaming your heads off, because he is scary and when it ends he is rapping about you scaring him and forcing him to go there while his legs are shaking....

☍ Loves to watch romantic Bollywood movies, he claims that he is the embodiment of 'the flirty hero' in the Bollywood movie, so sweet and caring, loves to help you cook and respectful of all the elders and everyone, even if he doesn't know them!!!

☍ He finds the similarities between your cultures to be very nice, how you both are very caring of your elders, the amazing food, and the importance of education, divine cultures and so much more!!!

☍ He is definitely gonna rap at someone for playing Holi wrongly, and then someone will put permanent colour in his face, the silver one which is very hard to get out, so put on oil all over him and if it doesn’t work, well I guess more shower time with you, no?

Min Yoongi - 민윤기

✥ Yoongi, first and foremost love your culture, how it is very similar to his, how developed it is in many aspects as compared to many other countries in matter of behavior, culture, mannerism, festivals, relationships and much more.

✥ Yoongi very much loves Hindi songs, he finds them to be very catchy and amazing! He sees so many Indian singers and finds all their voices so unique and pretty.

✥ He also learnt about that one musician whose singing could make it rain or blow off a candle, he also started learning Indian classical music just so he could sing for you and ARMYs better!

✥ He finds Indian movies amazing as well, how musical they are, how many good points they serve and their story lines as of whole, he has watched so many with you.

✥ He has maybe learnt Indian curse words and would often angrily scream them at the boys whenever he gets mad and it scares them because it's like a different language to them and they feel he will curse them in some or the other way...

✥ He loves to see you dressed up in a traditional outfit with some jewelry, he doesn't care if it's a event or not, he loves to see you in in, reminds him of his own roots and reminds him how your country is important in your upbringing.

✥ Yoongi also loves Indian food, might be a tad bit too flavourful for him at times, but still enjoys it very much! He especially the non-vegetarian options of foods, reminds him of home with the spiciness and flavours, also treat him to momos, he's going to be so happy, mainly because you would remind him how his mother called him a boiled dumpling. <33333

✥ Take him to clothing markets of India, they remind him of the similar looking ones in Korea, except the ones in India are way crowded making him a bit scared but it's fine, he enjoys seeing so many clothing shops, food shops, jewellery shops, and you bargaining with the shop owner and buying things for 100 which were originally being sold for 700...

✥ One guilty pleasure of his is sneaking into the kitchen at night and making himself a packet of maggi and eating fridge cold rasgullas, he likes the chewy feeling when they're cold as compared to when they're at room temperature....He doesn't know why...

✥ He likes studying about India's past, he especially loves the superstitions because everything has some logic behind it for people following it, he also developed the habit of flipping flippers if he sees them upside-down.

✥ One more thing is take him to prepare for a wedding in your family, he sees how everyone no matter if you know them or not, if they're relatives, they all visit and help, women in the decorations and getting the bride and groom ready while the men do in the food, photography and others, everyone is needed to help and he has much more than happy to help your family.

✥ He always participates in prayers at Diwali, though gets a bit scared of blowing fircrackers, he refuses to ignite them in the beginning, but after a little bit of convincing, he agrees only if you go with him!

✥ Oh! Your cousins tie him rakhi, btw. Rakhi is a festival celebrated on love between brothers and sisters, does not matter if they're sibling or cousins, its where sisters tie rakhi on their brother's wrist and then brothers give them gifts in return, he gives every-single future sister-in-law and brother-in-law an envelope filled of 2000 ruppees ...Guess it's good being rich...

✥Oh, you know Yoongi will definitely say he is not going to play Holi and then will throw water balloons, use pichkari to spray water on you and put both pink and silver permanent colour on you and your teeth, luckily you’re prepared for his betrayal since the morning, so you lathered yourself in oil, and if you didn’t, well good luck….

✥ Also, he is gonna make so many rang-golis with you and others, he isn’t sure how to pick up the powdered colour and what to do if a colour is finished, but he’s got the most amazing spirit, and please teach him how to colour like he’s a kid, it’s gonna be so fun!!

Jung Hoseok - 정호석

♮ One word, he loves to see classical dances of India, there are so many classical dances of India and each require a set of knowledge of music and rhythm which can easily be learnt by anyone, he has tried to learn a dance and convinced boys to try out Kathhak and Bharatnatyam it ends up with them bruising their feet as you and the instructor laugh and have fun watching them.

♮ He also likes to watch South Indian movies with their amazing dance and songs also he is in love with KGF series and Pushpa, also RRR. He really likes songs of Indian movies though, he sees how they're perfect for dancing to and he practices Hindi songs with you.

♮ Also, him giving you the confidence to wear a traditional outfit in front of him or at an event to show how pretty you are... It's one thing because why not, you slay every Indian traditional outfit you wear! People are honestly so sensitive and so when he tries on a outfit, he makes sure you're in the pic with him to show that he's not a rude tourist and that it was your idea and so antis get no thought to hate on him and they go back to insulting how he has a lover....!! He'll save you from hate, no worried.

♮ Also, take him to eat food at chowpatis, especially baraf ka gola (ice stick) basically, shaved ice which is shaped and dipped into flavours and yogurts. I personally think he’d enjoy momos and dahi puri. Also maybe shikanji. He likes the sodas.....find them fun but also scary cause he fast he has to drink after the man places the powder in..

♮ He likes watching Indian movies, he finds them interesting and enjoys the songs in between them, he likes the storyline and the difference between a Korean drama and your movies. He will learn the dance for fun and practice and he will sing the songs too!!

♮ He loves to play Holi, but please put oil on his skin and hair because keep in mind, you will be putting permanent colour on him, also even if it’s not permanent, the colour does stain and he dyes his hair regularly, so it might be better for him to have darker hair.

♮ He likes Anupama btw, he loves to watch Indian serials, where there is drama between the mother-in-law, sister-in-law and female lead! He will then spread this to the boys and then whenever you’re watching the tv, when it’s the time for the show to come on the channel, they’re all pushing you out the frame to watch it and the tea is always hot and spicy to hear out!

♮ Jhope will be loved by your families, he is loved by the aunties, the uncles, the dadas, the dadis, the fufajis, the mausajis, the mausis, the mamas, the mamijis, the buas, basically everyone and you get the point, even the toughest nuts of the family like him!

♮ Your family will be a bit doubtful because well you’re Indian he’s Korean, so what if something goes wrong, they don’t want you to be in pain, but maybe let them chill out with Hobi for a bit and they’ll be asking to ask for a faster wedding date. Also, question by your parents, they asked me to ask you, Ahem! “WHEN ARE YOU GIVING US GRANDKIDS?!” Thank you!

♮ Whenever there is an event and there is music, he’s the first to dance at the event and he makes everyone feel confident enough to go crazy and he invited everyone to dance, teach him the dholak dance between the women of the family, you know the ones where you repeat the same steps while going around in a circle but it’s very fun? Yeah, those ones, he’s very good at them as you’ve seen!

♮ Every single cousin and sibling wants to tie a rakhi to him, especially your sisters are excited because he’s their future jiju after all~~ Okay and he gives everyone a handmade gift with some money, like he makes cards, gets dresses, and makes them a lot of bracelets! He makes the rakhi you tie on your brothers himself as well!

♮ Whenever you take him to a mela, prepare to be tired out because in his opinion, it’s so fun! He goes on E V E R Y  S I N G L E ride, He cannot handle himself and he pays for everyone! He buys every lady in the family the nice cheap jewellery which is sold in the fair, he buys you some as well until you stop him..

♮ He will always go with you and the elder people of the family to check your cousin or siblings or whoevers arranged fiancée or lover it. He wants to make sure your cousins and family is in good hands.

♮ His sister will absolutely be decorated by your family, she’s so fricking pretty and when she wears a lehenga, it may seem a bit too heavy on her, but she feels beautiful and she looks so pretty like her brother as well!!! She’s prettier than you as well!!!

♮ Hobi and the boys will join you for an Indian movie night, he and the boys will sing their hearts out whenever the music comes on and you and Hobi will dance together. And then he and boys will learn the whole choreography and dance it and maybe cope some of them steps for their next music video.

♮ Also, he looks SO HANDSOME in a kurta, please, do not try to convince me otherwise, you and him will wear matching clothes!!! He will also try to match accessories and then the boys will match as well and now you’re all matching!!!!

♮ He will always have fun during Diwali, he will learn about why cow dung is so important and reason behind everything you do during your festivals and then he will join you as well!! All the ladies will also gossip with him!! Some things he finds a bit weird, but pretty open to cultures...

♮ Is shocked how many ARMYs are there in India, and how less he hears from them when SO many things are also done here. He is happy to meet them and promises Indian ARMYs for a concert in India!

Kim Namjoon - 김남준

✤ Now, if there is one thing we all know is that Namjoon always loves to learn things. And he is the most invested in your culture! He finds the story so interesting and he is always ready to listen to something you say and he asks ‘What’s the reason behind it?’, even if it didn’t exist in India…

✤ Namjoon is also very much interested in Indian classical music and classical dances, especially KathaKali and Kathak, he is so intrigued to see how a person can produce such facial expression with such a strong eye movements and how it’s so interesting!!  Also how a drama can be shown through dance, he finds it very sweet and amazing!!

✤ Namjoon LOVES Indian curries, now he is surprised at how less of meat consumption there is of meat and even if somebody eats meat, Pork or Beef is off-grounds, mainly cause Pig is considered a impure animal and it’s meat is taboo and cows give us milk and it is our god’s favourite animal and it’s considered a family member and so eating it’s meat is said to be wrong...

✤ Look at me and tell me he won’t look handsome in a kurta…… I DARE YOU. He looks so pretty!!! He looks so pretty and his smile and his body and his thighs and and- Okay, sorry for the break-down, but let’s be honest here! He is looking phenomenal! Of-course your sisters will tease you, but it’s all in good fun, he looks like a prince, not our fault!

✤ Namjoon is always the one whom your family loves a lot, he’s THE standard of the cousin, all your cousins including you are being compared to him, and it only affects your cousins though, because you know GOD IS FAIR. They come to you asking how you got such a boyfriend and you explain how he doesn’t know how to drive or cook and they try to laugh it off but realize how they’re still gonna be compared to him….

✤ Namjoon is always so eager to learn and he will sit down with your grandparents who are watching those mythological shows, and then he will ask you to translate or explain it to him and if you don’t, he will ask your grandparents and then you will translate whatever they explain to him and he’s so excited to bond with them, your grandparents will love him so much!! I just know it deep in my veins!

✤ Namjoon very much likes Indian treats, especially sweets, more specifically rasmalai, or mango-rasmalai, he loves it, so delicate and sweet, and sugary and pillowy!! He is very generous at times, but he definitely doesn’t share it! Maybe after a lot of convincing by either the boys or you, he will give you a few bites…

✤ You know one thing, he is obsessed with Laila-Majnu love story, it is very similar to Romeo and Juliet, and he tries to understand everything, how Laila was a noble and Majnu was a commoner and thus they couldn’t be together and how when one of them was hurt the other would also sustain the injury because of how strong their love was. Also how even after Laila’s marriage and execution of Majnu they managed to be together in after life, he loves it, he cried a bit ngl….

✤ Namjoon is much obsessed with Diwali, he is surprised how easily Indians handle cow dung, he could never…But he finds everything to be very fascinating and fun, he definitely spends time with the kids who can’t handle sitting still while their parents do the rituals...Then you and him will burn crackers for as long as you all can!! Of-course you have to stop him and the kids, cause they don’t realize they’re using crackers meant for the next day and you have to tell them to stop otherwise there won’t be any crackers left to burn the next day

✤ Namjoon likes celebrating Holi as well, finds it to be fun and nice and gets to eat good food and spend time with you and family….Especially when the playful people of the family life his shirt to put permanent colour and find his abs and stop and freeze in the moment….

✤ Ooh, he will watch ‘bhabhiji ghar par hai’ maybe?? Idk…I’m not sure, but I do get the vibes that he will enjoy it, despite it being kind of stupid, but then again he will also enjoy some Hindi literature and devolve himself in it for a while!!

✤ Namjoon also very much enjoys the celebration of a wedding, especially how a family is heavily involved in everything related to the wedding, the designs, the venue, the outfits, the dances, haldi, the theme, the food, the video, the photos and everything else, he is always ready to involve himself and maybe the boys will help around as well, though they may be a bit ignored for they’re foreigners, but they’re happy to help around wherever they can!! But I guess we try to put our differences aside, but Indians have TOO MANY RELATIVES and so no everybody knows them, so introduce the boys as your friends and Namjoon as your fiancée and then get roasted a bit and asked whens your wedding date…

✤ OMG! HE IS SO SURPRISED AT HOW MANY BTS FANS OR K-POP FANS IN GENERAL ARE THERE IN INDIA?! He is always ready to put on concerts for his fans, and after the interview with Sakshma Srivastav, he wanted to meet more fans and he did and he is surprised at how many people are excited to see them, he's happy for such a new found group of people he didn't knew existed, but he likes it either wayyy!!

✤ Oh, please if there's a wedding or something where you're putting on mahendi/henna on your hands, please put some on his hands too!! His hands look very pretty and he likes the time to be spoiled like a the pretty baby he is..He finds the smell to be very 'naturey', you don't know what it means and neither do i...

✤ He will invite your cousins, friends or siblings to his studio so they could ask if he did good on his songs, only you're very favorite people come and yes they all agree with the tunes that they're nice...gorahae boi...

Park Jimin - 박지민

✿ Mr. Park Jimin is probably obsessed with rom coms from your country and also the amazing songs and soap dramas, he will sit with you before you go to bed and he will ramble about how tulsi got another husband after just divorcing her ex-husband and how turns out tulsi’s first child belongs to her second husband??? Yeah, no I don’t understand either, but my mom does this…Anyone else? Anyways, yeah, you go to sleep thinking how hot and steaming the spicy gossip tea is…it’s all fictional…

✿ Jimin would always be happy to go out with you and eat at chowpatis, he is always hoping you don’t have to cook and he goes there with the boys often to the point where when he enters the chowpati with you, the shopkeepers greet him saying “Gora ladke, heyyyyy!!!” While waving their hands and some usual customers remember him as well, cause well he's sorta famous and he comes very often, the food is good and cheap…not his fault, nice experience and these things are something he only gets to experience and you get to see his mocha cheeks, win win!!! Of-course be careful about food bacteria..

✿ Jimin is very much in love with colouring rangolis, if you know how to, please make one for him and if you don’t…cry…then try your best to make one, then once you’re back is hurting and you’re tired, he will kiss you sit down like a princess getting ready to be kind and start colouring prettily, you teach him if you know how to, if you don’t...Kind of sad, but it’s fun trying new things out for both of you!!!

✿ Oh don’t ask why, but I think he will like anklets, on himself and on you, cause it is a social construct and yeah, eh will put them on in the house and walk around, his anklets jingling as he moves his feet or when he’s on a dance practice, he anklets jingling, the boys teasing him as he dances and then they all get distracted and now you have seven boys stealing payals from you if you have some, if you don’t they’re gonna order online or ask your parents for some…please restock, they’re gonna break…

✿ You know, I heard some someone that Mochi is Korea’s rasgullas and rasgullas are Indian mochis, and this haven’t left my head, so our mochi boi likes the pearly, pillowy sweet rasgullas as he squeezes the sugar syrup out to make sure nothing drips out and then he will feed some to you, it’s a sweet moments for you both!!

✿ He will dress you up and himself up for Diwali and Navratri and do graba with you, teach him some steps, he will dance and join you and if you go to those huge places where people learn how to dance for days and then one the final days they have colour coded dresses and then winners and all that things are done, he will come with you there and ready to dance and spend a night in ethnic outfits!!

✿ He is very much ready for Holi, he is gonna fight with colours, completely wet, with water balloons, permanent pink and silver colour, with huge water-guns, and buckets filled with colours and water in it, get ready, he is not gonna go down without a fight…

✿ He is ready to fight anyone who says Indian does not have good Ethnic outfits, he’s ready to fight and he will do so while wearing a sari/lahenga/kurti, just to show he a man can look pretty in it as well...It popped in my head, forgive me…

✿ He adores shopping with you, especially for jewellery, he is gonna be beside you while you bargain or someone else whom you brought with you bargains and get the thing for price three times less than it was originally for!! He is gonna try on things and you tell him which looks the prettiest on him, they will surely look good on you as well, you’re a couple after all!! And then once home, you will wear it and send photos and when he comes home, he will wear the jewellery and then you will have a mini photoshoot!

✿ He is gonna dance the kathak, teach some steps or look up on youtube, please, he will find ghungroo online, buy them and wear ghungroo and maybe he will whine because the thread is too tight and it hurts (like I used to..), but you explain it needs to be tight as to make sure it doesn’t open…you know he will fall if it does happen…and he tries to understand but I guess it doesn’t work, he still will tie them a bit loosely, also he gets to learn that Bharatnatyam and Kathak both have different types of ghungroo

✿ When you introduce him to your family, they will poke his cheeks and call him cute and sweet, your cousins will like him, and the ladies are FAN of him, like how could they not be?? Then men are a bit skeptic, but they get over it mainly cause he’s nice and like a fairy roaming around..

kim taehyung - 김태형

▨ Okay first, let's get the obvious out of the way, he's just as crazy as a Desi family, he's gonna fit right in, perfect boy! He's already loved by family, more than you or anyone else cause look at his achievements and look at you, reading this! Of-course he's your family's favourite!

▨ He loves to go out in chowpattis to eat, sometimes when he doesn't want to eat rotis, he will idk, go find some random cow or dog and give it to them cause he saw some old lady do it...I used to do that to escape yelling from my parents, but yeah, it's what he does. But he loves your cooking, worry not!!

▨ If you call him a Korean nickname "Jagi", he will call you a Desi nickname "Jaanu", it's no-negotiable, you can't be saying anything, unless you want him to call you something, then he will.

▨ You and him will be watching Indian soap dramas, especially "bhabji ghar pe hai?!", it's his fav genre, comedy and idiocy, if you can put on some subtitles, do that. He would love to watch movies as well, he finds them amazing, kind of upset, he can't understand hindi because when you both watch comedy he sometimes doesn't understand and you have to explain it and it ruins the fun?

▨ He wants his hands done first for henna, because he loves it, and he is obsessed with it as well!! He also helps you around if your feet and hands both have mehendi/henna on it, he will help you around unless he is also occupied, one of the boys will, and if they are occupied, then who knows who will help?

▨ He looks SO GODDAMN HANDSOME IN A KURTA!! I once saw a edited photo of it, and he looked like a goddess!! You both can match in Kurta and lehenga or saree or something and you both can be attractive and steal attention at family event's.

▨ Oh, the parent's wishes on having grand-kids will increase twice-fold cause well he wants kids, your parents show him photos he shows his photos, they fan-girls and now they're constantly thinking what your child will look like..

▨ Loves to dance with you on Indian songs, loves Bollywood films and songs and dances with you and watches a lot of films with you when he gets the time! Sometimes Tannie is also dancing and watching with you, if you have a dog, good and even great if your dog and Yeontan got close, you're a cute family!!

▨ Loves to fire crackers on Diwali, honestly always waiting for the day to end so he can get started on playing crackers at night, one the forth day when he sees and learns the uses of cow dung, he is a teensy bit grossed out, but will stay open-minded, though will stay away from it like I used to, unless they ask him to help and he doesn't want to feel bad and the boys laugh until they also get roped in it then they all wash their hands like three to four times just in case cause in the end it is still poop, no matter how useful, but find it a bit fascinating how useful it actually is.

▨ Will loved by cousins and kids of the family and others in general due to how playful he is, when he gets the time, he will helping cooking and even wake up early and bath so he can help the grandparents in bathing gods, dress them up, put the cool sunglasses on them, etc. I used to do it as a child where I would wake up early to bath so I can help bath god's idol we have, you all have that??

▨ Language barrier, but you're the translator, they don't understand songs or anything, but they're happy for the fame he receives, you and him will definitely go famous for being sch a gorgeous couple, an Indian and a Korean!? DAMN! Anyways, you're all gorgeous, Indian or not!

▨ He is another one who is shocked about the insane amount of ARMYs in India, he never knew there were so many ARMYs in Asian countries other than Korea, Japan, China, etc. But he's happy and is also keen on performing for Indian ARMYs when he can!

▨ Loves to colour in rangolis, finds it a bit hard to stay within the lines, but always happy to colour, make a separate rangoli for him,he will happily colour in it when he can. Also, loves the amazing gifts he gets sometimes from your family members as a honorary future family-in-law member, so he also gets gifts for everyone.

Jeon Jungkook/Jeongguk - 전정국

☁ Now, another cutie who loves to go to chowpati. Anyways, it's easy convenient, etc. He enjoys Indian food a lot, it reminds me of the video where they first ate paneer. He has loved to try some dishes made from paneer after that, the sodas sold on streets, the food, maybe his stomach will handle it, maybe not! But, he is definitely happy with all the food

☁ He is also loved by your mama, he's so cute, so respectful and so caring. And he's good at everything and he helps her cook, plays with the little kids (if you have some) in your family, with the help of you being the translator, he sits and watches TV shows or helps fix things or simply sits like a pretty boy on the side.

☁ He will absolutely dance with you on Hindi songs when he can, maybe with Hoseok, the maknae line when he can. It's so fun, making them dance on the most random songs.

☁ He loves to spend time colouring in rangolis, it's fun, he is great it for some reason and after one or two lessons, he's also able to make rangolis, using the dot pattern though. Would love to help you make some if you want, always searching up ideas for you and him to do when he's bored.

☁ Sits with your grandparents with you as a translator to listen to stories from their childhood, he likes it and finds it fascinating and it makes him curious to see what types of stories people of other cultures grew up with, it's pretty fun for you and a good bonding time!

☁ Makes his angry face every time he something good and you get confused if he actually likes it or something for a moment, it's funny, cause it confuses everyone who doesn't know that the angry face means the food i good!

☁ Whenever there is a wedding in your family, he will be the one to help the dancers in the family teach others and you both will absolutely have a dance together, he will be pretty and will capture everyone’s attention and then he will award himself with a good amount of food from the wedding!!

☁ Loves to burst crackers on diwali, and eating the many types of sweets, he doesn't know one culture can have THIS many sweets, absolutely devours them and they finish pretty quickly, sometimes brings some Korean sweets for your family too! He loves some exchange of cultures!!

☁ Oh my god the sight of his tattooed forearms in the rolled sleeves of kurta, my god!! He looks so hot and he eats everyone up at the event! Slaying bitches and Saving bitches, truly, he's made for some hot Indian films!!

☁ Your parents might get him a ring or a pair of earrings of pure-gold and diamonds or maybe his birthstone instead of diamond after he's been welcomed in the family as your unofficial husband and he looks pretty in them, I can imagine.

☁ Called you "jigar ka tukda" once and laughed himself to half-death when you told him it meant or translated somewhat to "piece of your chest" or "piece of your liver", but he calls you "babu" or "jaanu", it's cringe, but he pulls it off as always, so?

☁ APPALLED AT HOW MANY ARMYS ARE IN INDIA and how come he's never met them or gotten into any contact with them, sorta upset, and will demand that there be a few affordable concerts in India, he's trying!!

☁ Would love to go around with you, loves pani-puri, the culture, and jewellery and overall such a loving cutie!! Whenever he visits, he brings gifts for some close family members and the kids, whatever they would like, just remember to tell him not to mention chicken or anything if you're veg.

© writing belongs to broken-mandolin0357, Aurelia, Moon, Cerine, Kiara. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for ready and if you like this check out my blog!

[domquixotedospobresblog]

They moved to my street, there were five of them, they had three children, two boys and a girl, Ivani was her name, a beautiful brunette, she looked like a little Indian girl from the comics, I immediately fell in love with her, there are some old slang words in the text, because I'm just remembering a crush, so she was a sweetheart, you know those really nice girls, always smiling and not caring if you have fashionable shoes, flip-flops or your feet on the ground, that was my case, when I saw her and she also saw me, I was coming back from fishing here in the old clay pit, not the cachaça, it was a place where my father collected clay to make bricks, we were potters, so she gave me the biggest ball, I was all dirty with clay and flip-flops in my hands, then I started trying to win her over, I bought her those little surprise boxes that came with metal or plastic rings and chains, I took lollipops and candy to school, if she asked, anonymous notes and a thousand hearts, she knew I liked her, but Women have always liked to tease, on party days I would run after her and ask to dance, until one of them, in the middle of the rush, she grabbed me by the arm and said she accepted, I naively thought it was to dance, she took me by the hand under the big shin guard, there in the dark she asked me for a kiss, and I quickly, out of nowhere, ran home, I was very scared, I had never kissed, I was only eleven years old, we remained friends, but the taste of that mouth was never tasted, not by me, because I had chickened out.

Jonas r Cezar

[dickwheelie]

here have the first few paragraphs of my retired holmes/watson fic that is currently at 13k and counting. hoping putting some of it out there will force me to finish it in a timely manner lol.

this is sort of a combo of canon and granada holmes, based on whatever vibes were necessary in the moment. enjoyyyy if ya nasty

____________

It was I who came to him, a few months before the end.

He had written me several times from his lodgings in the Sussex Downs, and so I had his address on hand for a visit I took in late June of that year. It was, I admit, a bit of a whim on my part, otherwise I would have sent a letter ahead, but then again I did not expect to be turned away and had only intended to stay for a few days, perhaps a week at the most. The fact of the matter was that year the summertime ennui had struck me with more strength than I could ever before recall, and with my practice closed for the season and my bachelor's apartments lonelier than ever, I felt I had no choice but to pay a visit to my old friend and colleague.

Holmes had retired to a rather modest cottage in the countryside, with a sizable bee farm, as he had so often spoken about in our younger days. I knew of this from his letters, of course--apparently the honey business was doing remarkably well--but it was another thing entirely to wander up the long drive and hear the incessant buzzing and humming crescendo as one approached the lines of wooden hives that dotted the back yard of the house.

I knocked at the front door with the head of my cane, which by then I was using full-time, but when no staff nor retired detectives arrived to greet me, I wandered round to the side of the house and through the back gate, which was latched but not locked. It was then that I caught sight of him, sitting smartly upon a metal bench at the apex of a small flower garden, a thin silhouette with a proud posture overlooking the lines of the beehives. His back was to the house and thereby also to me, but the bench sat a little off to the right from the gate so that I could see the outline of his profile. That proud, hooked nose, that pointed brow, the thin lips; in silhouette against the late afternoon sky he looked just as he might have back in our rooms at 221b, staring down at Baker Street from that upper window which at one time or another saw the entire world passing by underneath.

It was not my intention to surprise the man any further than my unexpected visit would undoubtedly do already, but taking a few steps across the grass towards him I realized that my footfalls were entirely silent, hidden beneath the unending buzzing of the bees. I might have called out to him, or made my presence known in some less startling way, but I did neither of these as I approached, silent as an Indian tiger in the underbrush.

At least, I had thought so. I was not a meter behind him when a sharp, clear voice cut through the breezy afternoon air.

"My dear Dr. Watson, you might have phoned ahead. I believe that is what the younger set call courtesy these days."

I could not help the bark of incredulous laughter that emerged from my throat as Holmes turned on the bench to face me, his eyes shining with mirth. Up close, with the full light upon him, I could see that he had changed considerably since our last farewell; his face, lined as mine now was, was even more angular than it had been, and indeed it was only those keen, grey eyes that had remained untouched in our decade apart. His hair was entirely silver, a quite distinguished look for his brunette, in my opinion, than the pale grey I had been left with.

He held a cane now, too, which rested now between his knees as he sat. His fashion, I observed, had not changed an iota; not in style, nor in color, nor in cut.

An almost unbearable fondness rose in my throat then, looking upon him in that moment, so familiar and yet so strikingly new. Perhaps if I had more of my wits about me I could have put all that he had taught me to some use and gleaned some clue as to his recent dealings, where he had been that day, what he had eaten . . . but I confess all my faculties faded away in the face of that wry smile, identical to that I had seen countless times across the breakfast table, in the armchair by the fireplace, facing me in a train car, next to me in a cab or in a concert hall. I had not realized, until that very moment, what a drought I had been in.

"Holmes," I said before any hellos, for they could hardly be of any use between us now, "you must tell me how you knew."

Read the rest on ao3!

[fatehbaz]

In 1678, a Chaldean priest from Baghdad reached the Imperial Villa of Potosí, the world’s richest silver-mining camp and at the time the world’s highest city at more than 4,000 metres (13,100 feet) above sea level. A regional capital in the heart of the Bolivian Andes, Potosí remains – more than three and a half centuries later – a mining city today. [...] The great red Cerro Rico or ‘Rich Hill’ towered over the city of Potosí. It had been mined since 1545 [...]. When Don Elias arrived [...], the great boom of 1575-1635 – when Potosí alone produced nearly half the world’s silver – was over, but the mines were still yielding the precious metal. [...]

On Potosí’s main market plaza, indigenous and African women served up maize beer, hot soup and yerba mate. Shops displayed the world’s finest silk and linen fabrics, Chinese porcelain, Venetian glassware, Russian leather goods, Japanese lacquerware, Flemish paintings and bestselling books in a dozen languages. [...]

Pious or otherwise, wealthy women clicked Potosí’s cobbled streets in silver-heeled platform shoes, their gold earrings, chokers and bracelets studded with Indian diamonds and Burmese rubies. Colombian emeralds and Caribbean pearls were almost too common. Peninsular Spanish ‘foodies’ could savour imported almonds, capers, olives, arborio rice, saffron, and sweet and dry Castilian wines. Black pepper arrived from Sumatra and southwest India, cinnamon from Sri Lanka, cloves from Maluku and nutmeg from the Banda Islands. Jamaica provided allspice. Overloaded galleons spent months transporting these luxuries across the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans. Plodding mule and llama trains carried them up to the lofty Imperial Villa.

---

Potosi supplied the world with silver, the lifeblood of trade and sinews of war [...]. In turn, the city consumed the world’s top commodities and manufactures. [...] The city’s dozen-plus notaries worked non-stop inventorying silver bars and sacks of pesos [...]. Mule trains returning from the Pacific brought merchandise and mercury, the essential ingredient for silver refining. [...] From Buenos Aires came slavers with captive Africans from Congo and Angola, transshipped via Rio de Janeiro. Many of the enslaved were children branded with marks mirroring those, including the royal crown, inscribed on silver bars.

Soon after its 1545 discovery, Potosí gained world renown [...]. Mexico’s many mining camps [...] peaked only after 1690. [...] Even in the Andes of South America there were other silver cities [...]. But no silver deposit in the world matched the Cerro Rico, and no other mining-refining conglomeration grew so large. Potosí was unique: a mining metropolis.

Thus Don Elias, like others, made the pilgrimage to the silver mountain. It was a divine prodigy, a hierophany. In 1580, Ottoman artists depicted Potosí as a slice of earthly paradise, the Cerro Rico lush and green, the city surrounded by crenellated walls. Potosí, as Don Quixote proclaimed, was the stuff of dreams. Another alms seeker, in 1600, declared the Cerro Rico the Eighth Wonder of the World. A [...] visitor in 1615 gushed: ‘Thanks to its mines, Castile is Castile, Rome is Rome, the pope is the pope, and the king is monarch of the world.’ [...]

---

For all its glory, Potosí was also the stuff of nightmares [...].

Almost a century before Don Elias visited Potosí, Viceroy Francisco de Toledo revolutionised world silver production. Toledo was a hard-driving bureaucrat of the Spanish empire [...]. Toledo reached Potosí in 1572, anxious to flip it into the empire’s motor of commerce and war. By 1575, the viceroy had organised a sweeping labour draft, launched a ‘high-tech’ mill-building campaign, and overseen construction of a web of dams and canals to supply the Imperial Villa with year-round hydraulic power, all in the high Andes at the nadir of the Little Ice Age. Toledo also oversaw construction of the Potosí mint, staffed full-time with enslaved Africans. [...] Toledo’s successes came with a steep price. Thanks to the viceroy’s ‘reforms’, hundreds of thousands of Andeans became virtual refugees (those who survived) and, in the search for timber and fuel, colonists denuded hundreds of miles of fragile, high-altitude land. [...] The city’s smelteries belched lead and zinc-rich smoke [...].

The Habsburg kings of Spain cared little about Potosí’s social and environmental horrors. [...] For more than a century, the Cerro Rico fuelled the world’s first global military-industrial complex, granting Spain the means to prosecute decades-long wars on a dozen fronts – on land and at sea. No one else could do all this and still afford to lose. [...]

By [...] 1909 [...], mineral rushes had helped to produce cities such as San Francisco and Johannesburg, but nothing quite compared for sheer audacity with the Imperial Villa of Potosí, a neo-medieval mining metropolis perched in the Andes of South America.

---

Text by: Kris Lane. “Potosi: the mountain of silver that was the first global city.” Aeon. 30 July 2019. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[dear-indies]

heya do you know of any fcs who have played a role or just generally look more punk/alt and who have resources? (big bonus if they are tattooed) thank you

Benjamin Bratt (1963) Peruvian of Quechua descent, German (including Sudeten German), and English - DMZ.

Clemens Schick (1972) - Barcelona-Krimi: Blutiger Beton.

Chris Messina (1974) - Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey.

Lesley-Ann Brandt (1981) English, East Indian, German, Spanish, Dutch, Khoisan, Ashkenazi Jewish - Lucifer.

Miyavi (1981) Japanese / Korean-Japanese.

Nyla Rose (1982) Oneida / African-American - is a trans woman.

Riz Ahmed (1982) Pakistani - Sound of Metal.

Levy Tran (1983) Vietnamese.

Richard Cabral (1984) Mexican.

Asia Kate Dillon (1984) Ashkenazi Jewish / Unspecified - non-binary and pansexual (they/them).

Jaimie Alexander (1984) - Blindspot.

Clayton Cardenas (1985) Mexican and Filipino.

Deepika Padukone (1986) Konkani Indian - XXX: Return of Xander Cage.

Maika Harper (1986) Inuit - Mohawk Girls.

Kali Reis (1986) Wampanoag, Nipmuc, Cherokee, and Cape Verdean - is Two-Spirit (she/her) and queer.

Diane Guerrero (1986) Colombian - Doom Patrol.

Jurnee Smollett (1986) African-American, possibly other / Ashkenazi Jewish - in Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey, The Twilight Zone.

Uraz Kaygılaroğlu (1987) Turkish - Üç Kurus.

Ritu Arya (1988) Indian - The Umbrella Academy, Humans.

Macarena García (1988) - Pesar De Todo.

Nico Tortorella (1988) - is non-binary (any pronouns), poly and demisexual.

Mae Whitman (1988) - pansexual - Jack.

FKA twigs (1988) African-Jamaican / English, Spanish.

Tóc Tiên (1989) Vietnamese - Furies.

Rob Raco (1989) - Riverdale.

Hannah John-Kamen (1989) Nigerian / Norwegian - Killjoys.

Úrsula Corberó (1989) - Money Heist, Snake Eyes.

Tom Maden (1989) French, Belgian [Walloon], Portuguese, Afro Caribbean, African-American, English, German - Lifeline.

Chang Ryul / Yull Jang (1989) Korean - My Name.

Yamada Yuki (1990) Japanese - Tokyo Revengers.

Eric Graise (1990) African-American - is a bilateral amputee - Queer as Folk.

Oliver Stark (1991) - MindGamers.

Ryan Sitkowski (1991)

Vico Ortiz (1991) Puerto Rican - non-binary (they/them) and poly.

Tyler Posey (1991) Mexican / English, Scottish, Irish, German, distant French - is queer and sexually fluid.

Avan Jogia (1992) Gujarati Indian / English, Welsh, some German, Irish, French - Johnny, Now Apocalypse.

Jessica Henwick (1992) Chinese Singaporean / English - The Matrix Resurrections.

Kiana Madeira (1992) Irish, Unspecified First Nations, Black Canadian / Portuguese - Fear Street.

Simone Susinna (1993) - 365 Days: This Day.

Bia Arantes (1993) Brazilian - Órfãos da Terra.

Park Gyu Young (1993) Korean - Sweet Home.

Joseph Quinn (1993) - Stranger Things.

Yves Mathieu East (1994) Afro Asian - is queer.

Emma Dumont (1994) - The Gifted.

Remington Leith (1994) Unspecified Indigenous Brazilian and White.

Keshi / Casey Luong (1994) Vietnamese.

Lyrica Okano (1994) Japanese - The Runaways.

Lily Sullivan (1994) - Romper Stomper, Evil Dead Rise.

Natasha Liu Bordizzo (1994) Chinese / Italian - Ahsoka.

Lina Ahn (1994) Korean.

Sasha Lane (1995) African-American, Māori, English, Scottish, Sorbian, French, Cornish, distant German, Italian, Belgian Flemish, Russian, and Northern Irish - is gay and has schizoaffective disorder.

Sophia Taylor Ali (1995) Pakistani / Sicilian Italian, Danish, Norwegian, German - Uncharted.

Ryan Potter (1995) Japanese / Ashkenazi Jewish, Swedish, English, German - is bisexual - Titans.

Adeline Rudolph (1995) Korean / German - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Resident Evil.

Rish Shah (1995) Indian - Do Revenge.

Brandon Perea (1995) Filipino and Puerto Rican - Nope.

Ashton Sanders (1995) African-American - Native Son.

Kehlani (1995) African-American, French, Blackfoot, Cherokee, Spanish, Mexican, Filipino, Scottish, English, German, Scots-Irish/Northern Irish, and Welsh, as well as distant Cornish, Irish, and possibly Choctaw - non-binary womxn (she/they) and is a lesbian.

Emma Mackey (1996) - Sex Education.

Leah Lewis (1996) Chinese - Nancy Drew.

Rhea Ripley (1996)

Tati Gabrielle (1996) Korean, African-American / African-American - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Uncharted.

Hero Fiennes Tiffin (1997) - After.

Do Han-se (1997) Korean.

Evan Mock (1997) Bisaya Filipino / White.

Lizeth Selene (1997) Mexican [Black, White, and Unspecified Indigenous]- is genderfluid and queer (she/they).

Archie Renaux (1997) English, Punjabi Indian - Gold Digger.

Murakami Nijiro (1997) Japanese - Alice in Borderland.

Bahar Sahin (1997) Turkish - Duran.

Chella Man (1998) Hongkonger and Jewish - is deaf, genderqueer and pansexual (he/they) - Titans.

Brianne Tju (1998) Chinese, Indonesian - High School.

Fin Argus (1998) - genderqueer (they/them).

Beabadoobee (2000) Ilonggo Filipino - is bisexual.

Quannah Chasinghorse (2002) Hän, Gwich’in, Sicangu Oyate Lakota Sioux, and Oglala Lakota Sioux.

CG (?) Black - non-binary (they/them) - Queer as Folk.

MEMO FOR ME TO WORK ON MOVING MY ALTERNATIVE FACECLAIM MASTERLIST TO GOOGLE DOCS SO I CAN ADD MORE PEOPLE BC THE TUMBLR MASTERLIST HAS A LIMIT!

All of these have resources, anon!

[doctor-seamonster]

Instead of writing what I get paid to write, I spent 30 minutes writing a 500 word rant about the rise of fascism in america post-ww2.

We grew up being told that america won ww2 and stopped the nazis for good.

They never told us about the fascists and nazi sympathizers in the US, who had open pro-nazi rallies before america got involved in the war.

And for as excited as the government was to round up random japanese-american citizens, they didn't do anything to stop the american fascists at home.

Not to mention all the nazi scientists that got smuggled into government research programs after the war, of course.

The nazis are here. They've been here the whole time. They never went away, they just got real, real quiet.

Private newsletters and secret meetings and published books with coded messages.

Politics ebbed and flowed over the decades since the war. When they could be more vocal, they took every opportunity. There was even a presidential candidate that ran on a pro-segregation platform. But for most of them, they were just waiting behind the scenes.

Sometimes they wore hoods, sometimes they wore business suits, sometimes they wore metal badges.

Then came the internet. It was so, so easy to put up anything they wanted. Websites like stormfront popped up like toxic weeds. And any place that wasn't moderated well, like image boards, rhetoric and propaganda seeped in.

Then we get to the turn of the century.

And there was a tragedy so massive that everyone in america absolutely lost their minds. Suddenly it was in vogue to blame everything on not just muslims, but anyone who had dark skin or non-european names. There's records of many indian people getting brutalized after 9/11.

And by then it was open season to spew propaganda against anyone who wasn't white.

They drummed up fears about north korean military threats and chinese businesses and mexican cartels and columbian drug lords.

Then a black man ran for president and shit just absolutely exploded. This isn't really about him specifically, he's definitely not my favorite person in the world. But just the very idea of a black man leading america brought out the very worst sides of the very worst people.

The public got fed lines about how "racism is over!", all the while online spaces were dripping with venomous conspiracy theories about the blacks and the jews.

And then there's this asshole.

A public figure, hot off his own network tv show, started to spew that same venom. Nonsense about "fake birth certificates" and anything else awful he could say that got people whipped up into a froth.

He's not so much making racist dogwhistles as he's blaring a klaxon, letting all the cryptofascists know that it's okay to be loud and proud, and telling the whole new generation groomed with online white supremacy that it was their time to shine.

Between the support he's drummed up for himself and the general fucking failures on the other side, it's a cakewalk for him to get into office. Finally, a real, red-blooded, blonde-haired, white-skinned american man is running the country again.

So now we've got open white supremacists on speaking tours and nazi rallies in the streets. Not only is it okay to be a racist piece of shit, just as long as you use the right turn of phrase, but it's even good for mass appeal if you do it stylishly enough.

And that's modern life in america.

[fadetoblacked]

How much African do you guys got in your bloodline right now because the lead singer of my old heavy metal band he was black he had German and something else in him and when he first heard of black lives matter he was really he was that he was almost tears and I was like what's up man he goes because of the black lives matter I said yeah I kind of sucks that you know now we're off separated again like cattle Black's over here why it's over here you know Mexicans over here Iranian you know it it's all separated now and he looked at me and his eyes were all watering stuff and he's like Matt he said hey look people are going to look at me different now I said why he said I got to go in stores I got to go to the laundromat I got to walk down the street I had to do stuff and they're automatically going to assume stuff about me as soon as they see me they're going to judge me and it but I told him apart matter of fact he didn't show up to practice I think five times in a row he didn't come saying at all and that's why I'm apart but tears me apart because it's spitting in Martin Luther King's face for the simple fact Martin Luther King wouldn't stand for that Martin Luther King he he battled so hard he got beat with sticks by the police he got freaking sprayed by her fire hydrant hoses no skit it across the sidewalk sidewalk and stuff put to jail and then he got shot assassinated by some idiotic racism racist racist man I'm white my color is white I'm Indian in German and I'll tell you what Martin Luther King one of the best men that ever walked this planet and you guys just destroyed it by separating us he wanted us to be United that's what he died for man he wanted he even fought for women's rights and it's all gone it's f***** all up hey you know just as asking you hey it's my opinion dude I mean Martin Luther King was the greatest one of the greatest he fought for me you know for everybody and he f****** died for it and then this happened

Are u ok

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

Lion (2016, Garth Davis)

20/11/2023

Lion is a 2016 film directed by Garth Davis.

Based on the memoir A Long Way Home, the film tells the true story of Saroo Brierley who is played by Dev Patel. The cast also includes Rooney Mara, David Wenham and Nicole Kidman. The film had its world premiere at the 2016 Toronto International Film Festival, taking 2nd place in the Audience Award.

Khandwa, central India, 1986 - Saroo, five years old, second son of a very poor family, who survives with his older brother Guddu by collecting waste metals, asks the other to be able to work at night in a station near their home village. In search of his brother, the child mistakenly boards a deserted train that leaves and does not stop, taking him to Calcutta, about 1600 kilometers away.

Lost in the chaotic metropolis, not speaking the local Bengali language, Saroo survives on the streets. Hosted by people of ill repute, he manages to escape, only to be noticed by a young employee who speaks his Hindi language and who takes him to a police station so that, by publishing his photo in the newspapers, someone can recognize him. Saroo leaves for Hobart in Tasmania, where he grows up and becomes an adult.

At the age of 27, Saroo is a university student in Melbourne, with numerous Indian friends and loved ones, but he has not forgotten his roots and his family, for which he feels a sense of guilt due to his disappearance. At his girlfriend's insistence, the young man begins researching through Google Earth, desperately searching for his home village based on his fading memories, until he recognizes from a satellite image what appears to be the starting station.

Filming began in January 2015 in Calcutta, India, and continued in mid-April, in Australia, in the cities of Melbourne and Hobart.

The film had its world premiere on 10 September 2016 at the Toronto International Film Festival and subsequently at the London Film Festival and the Rome Film Festival. It was released in US cinemas on 25 November 2016 by The Weinstein Company, while distribution began in Australia on 19 January 2017, and in Italy it was released on 22 December 2016.

For the film Sia composed the song Never Give Up, released as a promotional single.

The score was composed by Dustin O'Happellon and Hauschka and was nominated for Best Original Score at the 2017 Oscars.

[wetsteve3]

Old school Bob jobTwin cylinder 74 CI engine 

 Pre 1940 leaf spring front end

Flanders handlebars

Aluminum fuel tanks

This 1947 Indian Chief is an old-school bob-job built up from the best-looking Indian parts. The engine, gearbox and frame date from the postwar era, with a plunger frame and the upgraded 74 CI Chief motor with standard 3-speed gearbox, hand shift and foot clutch. The machine has been modified with a pre-1940 leaf-spring front end and a pair of cast aluminum tanks from the 1930s. It’s all been assembled as a period postwar bob-job, which was the hot setup for many motorcyclists in the era, with as much sheet metal as possible discarded for a massive weight reduction, a bobbed rear fender, cowhorn Flanders handlebars and a solo seat completing the style. 

The stance in this instance is long and low, with a prewar vibe given the leaf-spring forks, although the plunger rear suspension gives a more comfortable ride. The inspiration for the bob-job (now called simply ‘bobber’) began even before the advent of Class C racing in the mid-1930s, all the way back to the mid-1920s, with the California Cut Down style, which used the same formula for increased performance: ditch weight, open the pipes, raise the handlebars, lower the center of gravity. The Cut Down style was the original American custom motorcycle style, and the first widely-replicated custom look from any region. 

The Cut Down saw its peak with the Harley-Davidson JDH, and a few were even commercially produced by independent motorcycle shops, with instructions on shortening/lowering the ‘J’ frame published in magazines like Popular Mechanics. With the introduction of Class C production racing in 1936, the style was given a new life as the bob-job, as riders customized their street machines to look more like race bikes. This 1947 Indian Chief Bobber is exactly such a machine, modified to look like a racer, but fully street-legal. It’s as old school as it gets, and Indian bob-jobs are much less common than Harley-Davidson customs in the early postwar era, making this bike very rare.

[puppybeast]

You listen to bloodywood? If not, They are an indian folk metal band but take much inspiration from nu metal.

yes!!! ive been a fan since 2019 and i saw them on their US tour last year!!! they're literally on my top 3 list of bands I would drop everything to see live after rammstein and system of a down. i actually think they are the new system of a down. in fact i think since bloodywood is coining the genre "street metal" then soad should be classified as "proto street metal" the same way black sabbath is called proto doom metal

[jscalzi]

Mid-Weekend Update, 5/28/23

Balticon has been absolutely lovely and Krissy and I are having a fabulous time, both at the convention and in Baltimore. This weekend there is also a large Indian festival and a heavy metal festival downtown, so it’s quite the melding of cultures in the streets and also in the elevators of the hotel. Everyone seems to be having a good time no matter what they’re in town for, and that’s…