aka my fav person

This is a serious question to all white people. What’s up with all the cultural appropriation *cough* I mean appreciation with other people’s culture??

Since I’m black I’ll talk about black culture. Everything from music, hairstyles,dance moves, slang, clothing. Why can white people indulge in out culture then turn around and demonize the SAME people for engaging in that culture? When 9 times ouf of 10 they don’t know the deeper meaning of that tradition. For example wearing a bindi as a “fashion accessory” then turning around and make racist comments about the Indian guy who works at 7/11.. Or unsuccessfully wear Afros/dreadlocks (which was originally a term coined by whites by the hair of the slaves that would lock, they referred to them as “dreadful”. The term was reclaimed by Rastafarian culture to show pride in one’s history) but then turn around and fire those SAME black people for wearing their hair the way it naturally grows out of their scalp.   Or adopt black slang, then turn around and call the same black people who use it uneducated. Or be the number one consumer of rap music, but then shoot black people because they were playing it(Jordan Davis). Or shamelessly wear Native American headdresses but then push them off of their own land. Or my personal fav Cinco De mayo.. AKA excuse to get pissy drunk. then the other 364 days of the year telling those same Mexicans to get the F*** out of your country. 

*** Before any clueless individuals come with false equivalences or derailment just know that, 1)speaking English 2)straightening your hair, 3) wearing jeans.. or any ridiculous comparisons you try to make are not the same. For one speaking English is because white people invaded the land of others and stripped their culture and forced their language and religious beliefs on others is not appropriation, speaking english is a survival tactic. You HAVE to learn english in order to make it in this country(for the most part)  Also straightening your hair isn’t appropriation because it’s also for survival, black people are/have been fired for wearing dreads,afros,braids. etc…  

Worse part about it is, that once white people get bored and stop playing dress-up, black people are still STUCK with their black skin, and the stigma attached to it. White people have the luxury of stepping back into their whiteness, if need be.

The One in Red (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Heyo! Back at it again with the Bucky imagines. Yep, I’m still writing and breathing (what a great combo!!) so if ya got an imagine- drop it to me cause I haven’t had anything for two (?) months, and I’ve missed it. Also, I’ve now officially listened to every Twenty One Pilots song and they are freaking amazing and I think I have a problem. With that said, I am not opposed to do some Joshler drabbles or any of the sorts (or even gushing to someone else for 20 billions years about why they are such an amazing band because holy crap). So this one is for uggfightme who is an amazing human being who always sends me request because they are the best person ever. 

Request for uggfightme (aka my fav): yo yo if you dont mind annnnother bucky imagine 43 and 74 sound greeeat

Word Count: 1,100

Enjoy!

You ruffle your still wet hair as you step out of the shower and waltz across the room to your dresser. As you shuffle through your seemingly endless supply of t-shirts, you absent mindedly sing along to the radio, playing an upbeat top 40’s song. Your head bobs to the beat, searching for something to wear, then you come across an especially soft t-shirt. Eye brows furrowing in confusion, you lift the unfamiliar t-shirt to the light and see that it is a well worn, dark red shirt. It’s definitely not yours, but you wish it were. The shirt is incredibly soft, and comfy, begging for you to wear it. Well it is in my room you shrug to yourself then pull the t-shirt over your head.

It’s a little big on you, but that comes as no surprise to you. Despite the small number of the Avengers live full time in the compound, clothes tended to be accidently swapped between numerous members and when those members include two super soldiers, a demigod, and a prince with the body of a god, feeling small is not a new feeling. After slipping on a pair of shorts, a new song started playing on the radio.

The upbeat beginning of Can’t Stop This Feeling spread a grin across your face. Whether the song is overplayed or not, it can’t help but to put you in a better mood. You bob your head, quietly singing along as you make your bed. Soon the chorus hits and you decide to let yourself indulge. Singing loudly, you jump around your room, dancing quietly horribly, but in that moment, you don’t really care. Sure, you’re a terrible dancer, but it felt nice to be happy and carefree, even if only temporary.

These past few weeks have been rough with long, difficult missions. Dancing around your room seems to be an appropriate therapy. Your arms flair up while your legs wildly kick out, spinning around with a huge grin. You shake your hips, bobbing your head, and dramatically sing out, holding out the last note with a proud grin. Panting slightly from the amount of effort spend dancing around your room, an amused chuckle fills your ears.

Face blazing red, you spin around to see Bucky leaning against your doorframe with crossed arms.

“Bucky!” You yelp in surprise. “H-how long have you been standing there?” You scratch the back of your head awkwardly while your other hand “casually” rest on your hip.

Bucky shrugs with a smirk then his eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

Is there any special reason as to why you’re wearing my shirt?

You glance down at the red shirt, playing with the hem.

“Your shirt?” You echo. “Oh… It was in my drawer,” A devious smirk crosses your face as you fluff your hair and grin at the super solider. “But it’s mine now, so sorry.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, uncrossing his arms.

“Is that so?” His head cocks with the taunt, a mischievous glint passing over his steel grey eyes.

You hum in response, your smug smirk never faltering as you cross your arms and lean against your bed.

“What if I happen to really like that shirt?” Bucky tests, raising a single brow, his chin jutting out.

“Sucks for you,” You shrug with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, that’s not going to work. I really like that shirt.”

“I’m not giving it back now.”

“What if I say please?”

“Hmm….” You tap your chin. “Maybe,” You shrug.

“Y/N, may I please have my shirt back?” Bucky asks.

“Nope,” You pop the p, a cheshire cat’s grin stretching across your lips.

“That leaves me with one option,” The brunette sighs.

“And what is that?” You dare.

“I’m going to have to take it back,” Then Bucky tackles you onto your bed, pinning your wrist above your head.

Pressing your hips down with his own, and trapping your legs with his knees, Bucky grins down at his dominant position, his hair brushing your check.

“It might be hard to get my shirt back in this position,” Bucky notes, his eyes raking down your torso.

“Shame,” You shrug. “Too bad the only way you’ll get it back is by taking it yourself.”

“I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge,” The super soldier’s eyes harden with an unidentified glint and a smug smirk.

He quickly seizes both of your wrist with his metal hand while his flesh hand begins to pull up at the shirt, but then he pauses, resting his hand on your exposed side. You let out an inaudible gasp of surprise, feeling goosebumps rise under his fingertips. You may or may not have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes and may or may not be aware of every single nerve in your body in this current moment especially in the spots where skin is pressed flush against skin. But you’d never admit this possible crush to anyone even though most of the team (possibly including Bucky) already knows. The beating in your chest accelerates as your blood pounds in your ears, making you feel closer to a love struck high school student instead of a highly trained assassin. Bucky’s hair tickles your check once more as he leans close, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“You know what, I’ve had a change of heart. Keep the shirt, I don’t want it back when I know how good you look in it, doll,” Then he casually rolls off you like nothing happen and begins to stroll out of the room.

You lay eagle spread on the bed, not moving as your chest heaves quietly, your eyes wide with the comment. Did you really just hear that right? That was flirting. That has to be flirting. There is no two ways around that. That was flirting. Bucky just flirted with you. Is this real?

While you collected your thoughts and shock, Bucky paused in the doorway, calling back into the room.

“There is a condition to my kindness.”

You glance up from the bed, still mulling over the sentence uttered into your ear.

“You have to go on a date with me tonight.”

You grin, warmth blooming inside your chest.

“I’ll be the one in red,” You promise with a wink, causing Bucky to grin and slip out of the room.

You fall back onto the bed with a gigantic grin and a happy giggle. Okay, worse things have happen.

I get so jealous and pissed off when people like my fav, not because they like my fav, but because i know they’re better than i am, they’re pretty and have a better chance with my fav than i do.
I get so upset because even if i tried to act confident and pretend my fav would like me, i couldn’t.