The Word After Sketch In Your User Is A Slur And Not The Nickname But Many Peopel Said To Bot Even Use

the word after sketch in your user is a slur and not the nickname but many peopel said to bot even use the nickname because it's the same spelling as the slur just with another g in the frount and it makes many people uncomfortable

Hi, thank you for acknowledging this and trying to spread awareness. I'm going to piggyback off of @gukyi's post with various links about the matter.

I understand that this is a controversial topic, and there are split opinions about using the word in reference to Jungkook's name.

However, the term that you are referring to, g with two Os and a k, is a slur created by white American war soldiers against East Asians and South East Asians (primarily Koreans, Filipinos, and the Vietnamese). It comes from the Korean word 국가 (gukga), meaning "country." In Sino-Korean, it originally derived from traditional Chinese, the dialect that I grew up on, stemming from 國 (gwok3), also meaning country.

During times of war, Koreans and the Vietnamese would refer to G.I. soldiers as 미국 (mee guk) and mỹ quốc, Americans, respectively. They come from the same term in traditional Chinese, 美國 (mei5 gwok3), meaning beautiful country. G.I.'s began to use these words against natives in a derogatory way, mocking them for their language, thinking that they were introducing themselves as "me, guk." To arrogant white people, the slur then became g, double o, k.

Jungkook's name, 전정국, is romanized in a variety of ways, and yes, Jeongguk would also be accurate. When using ㄱ, G and K are sometimes romanized interchangeably. In the same way, sometimes ㅜ is spelled as OO or U. It is spelled as Jeongguk on his passport, and it used for formal occasions like the United Nations conference. 

Jungkook has stated in a 2014 interview with Haru Hana that his grandfather named him, speculating that it means "pillars of the nation." In fact, his name in Hanja is 田柾國, referring to the wheat/farm of the country. Notice the last character? Once again, his name is in reference to the word for country, and it is in no way a nod to the slur. Jungkook's name has never been romanized using that derogatory term. Although it sounds the same, people are insinuating that Jungkook's name and the diminutive of it is offensive. 

You have to remember that his name exists in the Korean language. To be honest, romanizing languages like Korean or using the pinyin system is a way to accommodate for non-native speakers as we do not use the Latin alphabet. So not only have white people tokened parts of our language, but they’ve also occupied our land and claimed our culture, expecting a thank you as our white saviors. 

I think we all understand that this term was made to disparage Asians, but I don’t know why people are taking Jungkook’s name out of context then falsifying and invalidating it. Don’t twist it so that it fits a narrative that is made to harm us.

Yes, the word g, double o, k is a slur used in English. It’s made to oppress East and South East Asians. Please do not ever use that. And no, Jeongguk’s name is not related to it whatsoever. He has a Korean name that is romanized in a similar way, but it is not equivalent, and it was never meant to be. 

It feels a little backwards for white people to coin a word from my language, let alone a word that praises them for being beautiful, use it offensively against me, and then tell me I'm wrong for ever using it. It’s a word that belongs to my people. To the Chinese, the Koreans, the Vietnamese, and any other East and South East Asian who shares it linguistically. 

Can people of color just have things to themselves? Can we have ownership of our language and our names without having others ruin it for us? 

bliss | jjk (m)

Summary: Jungkook really, really wants to show you how deeply in love with you he is.

pairing: dilf!Jungkook x female reader

rating: 18+

genre: established relationship; so much fluff woah, smut

warnings: domesticity <3, married couple, pierced and tattooed jk, the green vlive pajama, cute banter, mention of a c-section, their cute daughter whom he loves to bits, they joke around and jk is sO CUTE; explicit sexual content: oral (m.), fingering, dom!jk, big dick!jk, kissing, biting, marking, praising, soft sex turning rough sex, dirty talk, impreg kink?, sweet nicknames (baby, princess, angel…), unprotected sex (reader on pill etc.), he likes her brattiness; … they’re very much in love

word count: 3.7k

a/n: yeah, here’s the 38742th dilf!jk fic since that live, but i kinda went all domestic instead of focusing on the pjs 🙄 semi-edited with a low quality banner, but i hope you guys still enjoy :D <3

MASTERLIST | WIPs

“Okay, baby. High five first?”

When you stepped out of the shower a moment ago, you could already hear Jungkook’s voice chime from Jinha’s room, quiet and soft and everloving. Your husband always had this strange habit of presenting himself stronger and colder than he had to with you, and you always poked fun at him for it.

But the moment he first laid eyes on your little girl, screaming from the top of her lungs and hands clenched into tiny fists, all armour fell off his body. You think you can still remember the way he melted, eyes cracking and tears falling, vulnerable like you hadn’t ever seen him before.

Keep reading

[210721] Changkyun FNS 🪐 Update

close call | jhs x reader

🗝️summary: hoseok comes home in the middle of the night and it doesn't take long for you to realize something is wrong. very, very wrong.

🗝️pairing: reader x mafia!hoseok

🗝️rating: mature, 18+

🗝️genre: smut, mafia AU, guarded AU drabble though it can be read as a standalone story

🗝️warnings: standard smut warnings, feelings because apparently i know no other way

🗝️word count: 1.7K

🗝️notes: i've had in mind to write a series of these drabbles for the guarded AU involving all of the original story characters. all returning home from the same terrifying night on the job, each processing the trauma a bit differently. as always, thank you for reading and please talk to me about it! of course, i couldn't have written or posted this without the help and guidance of @ladyartemesia @btsarmy9593 and @hobi-gif thank you so much ladies. also a big thank you to the very sweet @diorggukie who was so kind to answer my questions!

He comes to you in the dead of night.

The bed dips under his weight as he slips quietly beneath the covers, pressing the length of his body to yours. You start to rouse when he wraps himself around you -- firm chest at your back, strong forearm banded over your waist -- and you open your eyes to darkness, disoriented.

“Hoseok?” You call out to him, not quite awake and not quite asleep.

No answer.

“Baby?”

Still no answer.

The fear comes over you slowly, pulsing from your legs to your chest to your arms. Finally then to your brain, sounding the alarm inside your head as the pieces start to fall into place.

He’s warm, far too warm, skin feverish and damp from what must have been a scalding hot shower. He’s breathing hard like he’s just gone for a run, his shuddering breaths ragged and rough behind the soft shell of your ear. And he’s holding you so tight he’s practically crushing his body to yours.

That’s when you realize he’s trembling.

That’s when your own heart starts to rattle inside your chest.

“Hoseok,” you call his name louder now, clearer, trying to suppress the panic in your voice. “Baby, please. Tell me you’re okay.”

He doesn’t.

You wrench yourself out of his stranglehold to turn over and curl into him, searching for his face in the dark. Beneath the lone sliver of moonlight that peeks through the blinds he looks blank, eyes open and unseeing.

“Hoseok -- “ you cup his face in your hands, grip firm as you try to rouse him from his stupor. “-- You’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He stares back at you, quiet for a long time before he answers.

“Bad night, baby,” he whispers at last, “Real bad night.”

The words alone would be enough to make your heart seize, but the brittle, hollow sound of his voice is your undoing. He’s right in front of you, in your arms, but he sounds a million miles away.

“You want to talk about it?”

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. Your answer is in his vacant expression, the shuttered look in his eyes. You know damned well the terrible things he’s seen -- the terrible things he’s had to do in this line of work. And you know that most nights he’s able to absorb that trauma, to contain and defuse it before he comes home to you.

This is not most nights.

“It’s alright, baby,” you whisper, leaning in to press kisses to his warm temple, his flushed cheeks. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to do anyth--”

The words die on your tongue Hoseok turns his face to capture your mouth with his.

The adrenaline lying dormant in his bloodstream roars back to life in an instant. In one swift movement he’s on top of you, pinning you down with his lithe frame, mouth and hands everywhere at once. His touch is rough, desperate, teeth scraping against the hollow of your throat. Fingers digging into the soft curve of your ass. He kisses you like he’s trying to consume you, filling the air in his lungs with the breath he steals from yours.

“Hoseok -- “ you pull away from him long enough to gasp for air, digging your fingers into his hair when he buries his face between your breasts. “ -- Baby, you’re okay. It’s over. It’s over.”

He’s not ready to listen.

He’s still too keyed up, too wild from whatever he endured out there tonight. He sucks bruises into the column of your throat as his unsteady hands grasp at the satin barrier between you, shoving the thin nightgown up your thighs. You draw in a sharp breath when he slots one leg between yours, pressing the hot, hard length of his cock to the soft curve of your stomach.

“I need you,” he chokes out, heart hammering wildly inside his chest where it’s pressed against your own. “Please.”

There will be none of his trademark finesse tonight. None of the sexy words he loves to whisper in your ear, none of the practiced touches he loves to tease you with until he’s certain you’re ready for him. And none of that matters in this moment.

His hips jerk when you slide a hand between your bodies to take hold of his rigid cock, guiding the blunt head to your entrance. You slide it against the moisture gathered there, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear.

“Take me, baby,” you whisper, “Take whatever you need.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Hoseok is surging forward, fusing himself to you in one devastating stroke. He’s so damned hard -- impossibly hard -- and you can’t help but whimper at the sudden, sharp intrusion.

“Shit,” he swears under his breath, head dropping low between his shoulder blades. His arms shake with effort as he forces himself to hold still above you. “I didn’t mean -- “

You swallow his apology with a kiss, tearing a pained groan from him as you squeeze your thighs tight around his slim legs and skate your hands down his back to cup his ass. You tilt your hips up, rolling them against his in invitation.

“It’s alright, baby,” you promise, speaking the words against his lips. “I can take it.”

It’s like pulling the pin on a grenade. Once you speak those words out loud, he abandons what little control he had left, fucking into you with utter desperation. His fingers dig savagely into the cushion of your hips, pulling you in to meet each one of his unforgiving thrusts.

“Thought I was never going to see you again,” he pants, mouth latching to one stiff nipple through your nightgown. He sets his teeth to it despite the barrier, dragging it into his mouth through the damp satin.

You’re glad he can’t see the tears that spring to your eyes. You squeeze them shut, trying to push his words out of your mind, trying to think only about the steady rhythm of his hips against yours and the feeling of his cock buried deep.

“You’re here, baby,” you soothe, running your hands up his back. You can feel the faint tremor that runs just under the surface of his skin. “Here with me. You’re not going anywhere.”

At that, he fucks you harder. Hard enough that you have to press one hand to the headboard behind you to keep him from forcing you up the length of the bed. Hard enough that you know you’ll feel him everywhere tomorrow, know that you’ll see the evidence of his agony all over your skin.

He groans your name into the crook of your neck when he comes, shuddering as he empties himself inside of you for what feels like an eternity. And then he collapses onto you, shivering despite the warmth emanating from his skin, despite the heat that’s been generated between you.

You hold him close and trace your fingertips up and down his back until the shivering stops.

He’s still sleeping deeply when you slip out of bed.

The apartment is peaceful at this hour, the blue hue of the early light comforting in the quiet of the kitchen. You’re not much of a cook, never have been, but this morning that doesn’t matter.

You are going to make this man some fucking breakfast.

It’s easier to focus on brewing the coffee and buttering the toast than it is to think about the way he looked at you last night. The things he’d confessed to you in the dark. The way he held you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

You crack the last of your eggs into a bowl and walk to the trash can, prepared to drop the empty carton inside.

But when you press down on the foot pedal, the lid comes up and the carton in your hand falls to the floor below.

At the top of the trash pile sits Hoseok’s white dress shirt -- the one you’d bought him in Gangnam a few months ago. The one he was wearing when you’d kissed him goodbye before he left last night.

The blood smears splattered across it are a bit rusty now, oxidized and dull.

It’s so much blood that for a moment your heart stops before your brain steps in to remind you that this can’t be his blood. That you’d had your hands and mouth on every inch of his skin last night. That he’s sleeping safe and sound in your bedroom just a few feet away.

You’ve seen so many sides of Hoseok by now, his happiness and his passion and his melancholy and his fury. But you’ve never seen him terrified. Not until now.

You stare down at that shirt, willing yourself not to imagine the gruesome scenarios that come to mind. Willing yourself not to panic over events that are already said and done. Willing yourself not to collapse with grief.

He’d asked you to marry him.

He’d done it in that low key way of his, of course -- on a drive home from dinner, stopped at a red light. He’d cut the radio and reached across the gear shift to take your hand and he’d asked you to marry him. And you’d said no.

You’d argued that trauma begets trauma. That hearing the stories about your own parents’ volatile marriage had poisoned you against any hope for one of your own. That you still didn’t fully understand the damage done by years at the hands of an alcoholic father in the absence of a dead mother. That being a Kim at one time nearly destroyed you, but now it defines you.

And he’d accepted it.

In that low key way of his, of course -- stone-faced and jaw tight. He’d never made mention of it again, though you could sometimes feel it heavy in the air between you. Though at times you could feel the weight of it pressing down on your chest when you relived the memory of that night in the car.

This morning, you stare down into that trash can -- down at the ghastly red-orange stains that mar what used to be a pristine white canvas -- and your excuses echo through your mind, pathetic and small.

Hoseok would give his life for you. For your brother. For any man in this organization without second thought.

This is the life you chose and this is the man you chose.

And it is time you give him this.

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv @pxy99 @ducktan-sonyeondan @juliaz1798 @babycoffeefire @oosnapitskat @taefect94 @kookiesspacebuns @royalmuffinsworld

everytime bts has a comeback:

I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS LMAO

a bit of a stretch (teaser) | jjk (m)

↣ pairing: olympian!jungkook x gymnast!reader

↣ genre: fluff, smut, humor, olympics!au

↣ rating: +18

↣ word count: ???

↣ warnings: language barriers galore, explicit sex, oral, fingering (details revealed much, much later), some athletic positions maybe???, alcohol consumption

↣ playlist: physical - dua lipa // love talk - wayv // freaks - surf curse // juggernaut - tyler, the creator // the king - sarah kinsley // yonaguni - bad bunny // let's get it started - black eyed peas

↣ summary: Stolen glances across the Olympic Village's dining hall. Light brushes of your hands whenever you cross paths. No words ever uttered. No words ever needed.

↣ notes: olympian tiktok has got me down bad. so enjoy this teaser under the cut :)))

“One day,” you said while sitting on the bus on your way to the gymnasium where the competition would take place, “one fucking day in this god-forsaken village and I’m humiliated in front of one of the world’s best gymnasts.”

Your teammates laughed at your mocking lamentations, though you thought they weren’t mocking, or sarcastic at all. You really meant it, and though you didn’t blame Ali for the accident, you certainly regretted having that little show be Jeon Jungkook’s first impression of you.

See, the man was more like a rockstar in the gymnastics world. Hell, in the Olympics world, even. Where Simone Biles completely slayed in Rio 2016, Jungkook dominated his entire category, too, that year. You supposed their shared birth year had something to do with that. Now, the Korean was back with a thirst for more, while these were your first games -- ever. Understandably, you wanted to make a good first impression.

“Just say you have a crush on him and go,” laughed one of your teammates, Karli, twirling her long, purple-dyed hair in her perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll one hundred percent back you up.”

It was Ali who snorted at the comment. “Please, I’d be the first to admit it. That man is so fine.”

You nodded. “Can’t argue about that.”

“Fuck, the money I’d pay to ditch the championship and just look at him during floor exercise. That man’s got moves,” Karli said.

“Bitch, have you seen his TikTok account?” You asked out loud. “He does breakdance on his free time.”

“Seriously, how is that man even real?” Ali wondered. “You can tell the man is a sweetheart. Like, I’ve seen his interviews, I follow him on Instagram -- we all do! He’s even a UNICEF ambassador. Like, I’m ashamed to even breathe the same air as him!”

Your team laughed at her comment, even your coach joining in and fawning over the athlete a little until your bus reached its destination.