Naive: Part 3

A/N: I’m so freaking happy you guys seemed to like the story so far!, I wrote this and a few other chapters up in one night! Hopefully I can get you guys as hyped as I am for this story. Oh and if you couldn’t already tell, the reader IS mixed race. Because there’s a serious lack of mixed race reader inserts. If this offends you or deters you just skim over it I guess??

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Just cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. Get ready for it to get smutttayyyyy next chapter tho, my home dogs!

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.


It’s honestly insane what a little bit of sleep can do to improve your life.

Well okay, a lot of sleep. You’d slept for like thirty hours straight, thank the mother fuckin’ lord and you felt like a brand new woman.

Especially after you take a couple bong rips.

Wake and baking was a way of life for you, had been since you we’re fifteen years old. There was just nothing like it.

You take a shower, deciding against getting dressed in real clothes and instead you wiggle into a pair of black lace trimmed lounge shorts, and then slip on a wireless bralette. It gives you no support of course, your supple breast sit comfortably and unrestrained. Just the way you liked them to be.

As you sit at your vanity and stare at your reflection in the mirror, your brain cloudy and happy; your eyes slightly red rimmed and low, you feel …numb. But a good numb. The numb you wished you can be forever.
You rip the tie from your hair and it tumbles down from the bun it had been in and falls around your shoulders, the silky strands tickling your bare, fresh skin.

Do you think you’re pretty? Fuck yes. Do you think you’re fat? Also, fuck yes.

It was a concept that most people couldn’t seem to understand. How could you admit that you we’re fat and yet still sit and check yourself out in the mirror? Well because to you, fat was just a descriptive word. Not the heinous insult other people thought it was. Yes, you we’re fat. Just like you we’re smart. And fucking hilarious if you do say so yourself… and at the moment, extremely stoned.

Your confidence hadn’t appeared out of thin air, it was something that had been ingrained in you.

Because your mother had never made you question your worth. She didn’t give a shit about the numbers on a scale or cellulite. She didn’t care if your hair was wild and curly, curlier then her, a white woman had known how to handle for years. No- she cared if you we’re kind to others. If you we’re brave enough to go after you wanted and speak up for yourself.

So you had.

You broke away from that fat girls should wear baggy clothes and stay quiet and try to shrink themselves. Nah, fuck that. This fat girl was going to do whatever she wanted.

Did have negative thoughts about yourself sometimes? Duh, you’re a human being. Everyone has ugly thoughts sometimes, but mostly you we’re a little full of yourself.

Like now, as you blend on warm, smoky eyeshadow, carve your brows and contour your face. Drowning yourself in highlighter. Acentuating and defining all of the parts of your face that you loved. You liked primping and pampering yourself, loved all things beauty, really. Eyelash extensions, going for manicures, facials. They we’re all your jam.

When you’re satisfied with yourself, tossing and musing your hair until it falls around your head in a messy way that looks more sexy then homeless you rise, intent on going and finding Wanda or something.

Not wanting to be alone anymore.

You almost walk out of your living room in a bralette- but think twice as you pass the mirror by the door.

You really didn’t want to give Tony a coronary on this fine Thursday.

So after throwing on a loose shirt and a cape like McQueen floral kimono you slip into a fluffy pair of slides and start your epic journey to find sustenance.

You don’t think it’s attention you like, and you’ve thought about it a lot.

No, it’s affection.

You’d always been a…touchy person, and it had tended to get you into trouble. You understood boundaries, you just hated them. You didn’t know why it was such a taboo to show the people you cared about that you cared. Why was intimacy in friendships so frowned upon? Why couldn’t you wrap your arms around your friends. Kiss them on the cheek? Cuddle with them?

It just had never been a big deal to you. You liked touching, and fuck, did you liked to be touched.

When you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the gathering there.

Nat, Wanda and Clint stand at the island, cutting up veggies and talking between themselves. Thor and Bruce sit at a table with Steve and Bucky. It all seems so…pleasant. One of those rare quaint, normal moments in the tower. It would make anyone smile.

“Goodmorning, sunshines” You greet them as you walk in “You guys forget to invite me to the party?”

You steal a piece of tomato from Natasha’s cutting board and plop it into you mouth.

“Y/N you are aware that it’s almost one, right?” She informs you with a smile to which you just shrug.

“Technicalities. It’s still noon-ish so it’s morning…pretty much”

“Flawed way of thinking you got there, squirt” Clint criticized. His eleven year old had better sleeping habits then you.

“Flawed or brilliant?”

“You sound just like Tony” Bruce calls from his place across the room and you pull your head from the fridge.

“Why thanks”

When you cant find anything that catches your eye in the massive fridge, even though its brightly lit with an array of food, you call for FRIDAY and ask her if she could have the chef cook you up some Nutella crepes, “please and thank you!”

“How high are you right now?” Wanda reaches over to whisper to you knowingly and you lean forward to rest your chin on her shoulder, her long dark hair tickling your face pleasantly.

“Super. You have to try this shit that I got from Jessica, it’s crazy” You reply, your breath hot on her ear so that she’s the only one who can hear you.

The both of you break out in to giggles, girlish and young sounding. Wanda missed this, the having a connection like this with someone. Welcoming and relishing another’s touch in a way that was both intimate and utterly innocent.

She’d had it with Pietro…and then he’d gone and left her alone and she thought that was the end of it.

But then you’d gotten close to her, befriended her, and there it was again. Being able to just, melt with someone was something that should be cherished. She cherished her friendship with you. The way you let her lean into you with no resistance. You and your bright eyes and contagious laugh. She felt…she felt more like Wanda when she was with you. Less like Scarlett Witch.

Bucky hadn’t meant to watch you for as long as he had. He’d turned to you when you’d entered the room and hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away, for more then mere moments, since. It was a mixture of the tiny shorts you had on, the way the black lacy material rode up your sumptuous thighs…but mostly it was your interaction with Wanda. He wasn’t particularly close to her(he wasn’t particularly close to anyone except for Steve and Sam…although he’d never admit it) but he’d never seen the girl like this. Like you’d somehow lit her up from the inside.

The two of you we’re whispering and laughing like school girls, carefree and light and it stirred something in his stomach.

His eyes snap away as you approach the table.

“Hello sirs” you salute as you come up and take the seat in between Steve and Thor. It’s comical how intensely the two men dwarf you.

“Hello little woman” Thor squeezes your shoulder, his big palm encompassing the flesh “How was your sleep? It seems like it’s been days since you graced us with your presence”

You cant help bite your lips together to hide a grin. Would you ever get over the regal manner in which Thor talked?

Probably not.

“Yeah, Y/N. How are you feeling today? Less drowsy?” It’s the tone in Bruce’s voice you don’t like, not his words. He’s using his doctor’s voice on you.

Yes, Bruce knew about your…situation. Tony had told him, with your permission, so that he could help monitor the process. You didn’t mind him knowing, you just didn’t want him blowing it and everyone finding out about it. It was a sensitive subject for you and you’d rather keep it quiet. It’s not that you didn’t trust the others its just…you weren’t ready for it to be public knowledge.

You didn’t want to be looked at differently.

“I’m fine” You play it off “My sleeping schedule’s just been off. I just had to reset my internal clock to the eastern time zone. No biggie’”

Bruce wants to ask you more but he’s a smart man, and decides he’d press the issue later in the privacy of the lab. He knew what it was like to want to keep a secret, and he wasn’t about to go making you uncomfortable by blowing yours.

You reach over to steal one of the fries off of Steve’s plate, sticking you tongue out at him “How has you guy’s day been so far? No alien invasions yet?”

You had a way of setting the atmosphere, keeping it light.

You talk with the guys until Bruce leaves, needing to go run some labs or smash some things…okay that was an asshole joke, you chastise yourself. You didn’t like teasing him about his little green problem, Thor follows him. Talking about some meeting he was being “forced unwillingly to attend”

“Good luck, big guy” You kiss his cheek before he leaves.

“So really, what have you guys been up to today” You ask the two men you’re left with as you cut into your crepes.

“Nothin’ much, it’s been a quiet one so far. Just training. I was thinking about going for a walk later on, maybe Central Park? Get some sketching in while I can” Steve answers.

“You drawing more, Stevie? That’s amazing! You’ll have to show me some of your stuff sometime! I remember they were always so good” You urge him excitedly. Since you’d known him, you’d tried to push him to take his art seriously. Fuck knows it was his only release. You had a feeling even Steve Rogers had a breaking point, you also had no desire to ever see it.

Only Steve’s ears turn red, which is actually progress for him “Yeah, I can do that”

“Really? So a pretty girl asks to see your sketchbook and your game, but I, your best friend cant?” Bucky sees an opening and cant help but take it “Whatta’ Jerk”

Okay, where did that come from? You fight to keep the shock off of your face. Pretty girl? Really?

“Well she’s not a crap critic like you are” Steve justifies himself “Last time I showed you somethin’ you told me that I couldn’t draw dog paws for shit”

“Hey, I was just kidding. That was about a year ago, too!” Bucky sounds truly apologetic and you break out into a squawk of laughter.

“You guys are so married, oh my god” You shake your head at the two of them. It’s cute… seeing them together. Both of their guards way down.

“Don’t encourage his behavior, Y/N” Steve’s trying not to chuckle.

You turn your attention to Bucky then, your body literally angling towards him as you focus in. “What about you, Bucky? Any big plans?”

Why? Why does his brain turn off when you look at him like that? Your gleaming eyes looking at nothing but his face.

“Uh- nothing yet, doll”

“Awe if I didn’t have to go shopping I’d say lets have our marathon!”

“Marathon?” Steve wonders, his eyes flashing between the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m going to force Bucky to watch Harry Potter with me. You know, bring his life great enlightenment and fulfilment” You answer him nonchalantly, taking a bite of your food. Letting out a little moan and crossing your eyes “Oh my gosh this is amazing”

Did you mean to look so sexual? The way your pretty lipstick coated lips wrapped around that fork had Bucky tensing.

“No really you guys, who even is this new chef? Is he the second coming of Christ? Taste this!” You encourage as you cut another piece and hold it out to Bucky, your hand under it incase it falls.

He doesn’t know what to do. Does he turn you down? Would that be rude? Would it hurt your feelings?

So he just opens his mouth and allows you to feed him the sweet pastry.

“Amazing, huh?”

“Mmhmm, really good” is all Bucky mumbles, trying to keep the heat from his face.

“Steve try it!” You urge, pouting a little when he doesn’t let you shove your fork in his mouth.

As tempting as the offer was- Nutella and the look on your face- Steve had learned his lesson. What if Tony came in and saw you spoon feeding him? Nope.

“I just ate a burger, I gotta’ watch my physique” He teases and your eyebrows knit together.

“Okay, you sound like a giant douche. Here” You give him the fork so that he can feed himself.

Since when was Steve weird with you like that?

“Hey are we still going shopping?” Wanda asks as she comes up “If so I’m going to go change?”

“Yeah! Definitely. I need to change too! You can come get ready with me in my room” You stand quickly, scooting away from the table “You guys can have the rest of that. See ya’ later losers”

And with that your sashaying out of the room with Wanda.

Steve notices Bucky staring at the sway of your hips.


“Shut up, Steve”

“I told you. Y/N- She’s- Something else” Steve searches for the words “But the kid’s Tony’s pride and joy and we’re still on thin ice with the guy”

“How old is she anyway?” Bucky completely ignores the Tony part of Steve’s sentence. Why’d everyone call her kid? She looked a little young, with that dimpled smile but she was in college so she couldn’t be AS young as they treated her.

“Twenty three” Steve’s response is curt. Matter of fact.

Twenty three, huh? Bucky thinks. That is a little young…a lot younger then his near century. Not young enough for it to deter him, though.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Neither of them do really. It’s quiet as Steve eats the reminder of the crepes because holy shit you hadn’t been lying they were sent from heaven.

Then, Bucky’s handsome face stretches into a devilish smile. One Steve had seen many a’ time.

“She’s got a nice pair of gams on her, doesn’t she?”

Steve tries to purse his lips, but fails in hiding his own wolfish expression.

“That she does”


Because even though Steve is Captain America we all know he’s still that little shit from Brooklyn at heart right? Especially when Bucky’s around. Lesbi-honest here I have the major hots for Wanda and it’s taking all of my will power not to write her as a love interest but I really want to focus on a close, strong female friendship…even though I’m dying to have Y/N get her some Wanda😩

As usual give me some feedback! Going to slow? Too fast? Is Y/N too…touchy? What do you think the pills are for and do you want to be tagged? Tellllll me ya’ll

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha  @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @peaceloveancolor @gabwinchester-dixon

Originally posted by shantayqueenyoustay

hextrudedcubes submitted:

Found this mysterious intruder in the kitchen. It’s hard to see in the image, but there dark spot are the back of its forewings is actually a gap which exposes its hindwings. It never used either, though.

It is almost precisely the same shape as a turtle.

Hiya! This is a true bug in the family Pentatomidae– the stink bugs! The turtle shape is characteristic! “Pent” for the five-sided shape of their body.  They won’t bite or get into your food or otherwise do any harm, but if handled roughly they will secrete a sickly sweet smelling substance to try to deter predators. 

I know he looks delicious, but don’t eat him.

That dark spot you are noticing is actually not a gap, but a characteristic of true bugs. The suborder is called “Heteroptera” or “different wings” because the forewing is half hard (elytra, like a beetle) and half membranous. (They have “hemelytra”).

So the dark spot you are seeing is the membranous portion of the forewings, which makes a diamond at the base of the abdomen when they are folded up. This is a pretty good way to identify true bugs.


October 10 is World Mental Health Day, so let’s talk about how we can end the stigma surrounding mental health 🌱


Start a dialogue about your own experiences
💖 Mental Health is still stigmatized and that can make it difficult to talk about openly, but the more we talk, the more we help to normalize the discussion. But it’s not just about helping the world see Mental Health differently, but about your perception too; talking about your problems can help you work through them, and see them in a more realistic light, and it helps the people around you understand your needs.

Challenge incorrect information
💖 If you see someone spreading incorrect information about mental health, be brave and step in. Remind people that mental illnesses are disorders of the brain, and are usually due to chemical imbalances, in the same way that disorders of other organs might be due to a vitamin deficiency, or the body not being able to produce the right amount of hormones.

Ask others about their experiences
💖 Encourage others to talk about their own mental health issues, if they feel comfortable doing so.  


Provide a judgement-free environment
💖 Sometimes people just need to vent, rather than have a discussion, and as well-meaning as you might be you need to respect that. Ask if they’d like to discuss their issues or if they’d just like to vent and be given a sympathetic shoulder to lean on. Mental Illness can make us hyper sensitive to perceived criticism, and feel unable to open up. Create a judgement-free environment by giving them your full attention, and by allowing people to talk at their own pace, without interruption.

Ask what they need, don’t assume
💖 What we need and what someone else needs might be two different things, so ask and listen to what someone says when they talk about their needs. It might be tempting to think “they’re just being lazy” or “if I give them a push they’ll get there eventually”, but respecting their wishes is not just about whether or not they know best. Ask them if they need their boundaries pushed, or if today is a good day to try. There will be days where they are more open to pushing their boundaries. If you force them too early you may deter them from trying again, and it may hurt their trust in you.  


Check in
💖 Now’s a good time to check up on the people around you. Don’t just say hello, ask how they are feeling; specifically how they feel mental-health wise. It becomes a habit to say “I’m fine”, even when you’re not, and mental illness makes it harder to be forthcoming with how we feel. Give them the option to say “well, now that you mention it…” instead of the usual small talk.

Check up
💖 Have you been ignoring your own mental health needs? Procrastinating on getting proper professional help? Now’s a good time to make an appointment with your GP for a check up!

Check yourself
💖 Even the most open-minded of us need to keep our own privilege and bias in-check. If you hear someone talk about an issue or symptom they face that you think might be exaggerated, made-up, or their own fault, consider that your own bias, privilege, or lack of understanding may be clouding your judgement. Everyone’s experiences are different, so try to remember not to compare. Have a judgement-free discussion, give advice or offer alternatives, but in the end: trust THEIR judgement of THEIR situation.


Shy and I have made some collaborative pins! **NOW ON PREORDER**
Hard enamel pins based off  our Ocs Aba and Emri in their witch forms.
Each comes with decorative backing card, including the witch’s symbolism/themes. 
Wachholda : A wandering witch who hunts for her lost head. Though clever, her impatience robs her of her goals. She often wears her lantern where her head should be, in desperation to feel whole.
Eikthyrn : A mourning witch born out of loss and loneliness. Seated in a labyrinth of his own making, the maze lures in what he longs for and deters what he doesn’t. Surrounding flowers drink from his tears, expanding the maze. << MORE INFO HERE!
Characters created by Shy (Wachholda) and Coey (Eikthyrn).

i like that one scene from the ember island players where actor katara was like “i’ve always had eyes for you” or something like that to actor zuko and then katara and zuko awkwardly look at each other and shift away. i feel like a lot of people write it off as bryke trying to dissuade watchers from shipping zutara but like honestly??

the look they give each other is not one of disgust. they’re uncomfortable with the statement because guess what? oh shit, when they were in the crystal catacombs they saw each other in a completely new light (obviously not to the extent of being in a relationship but i’ll get to my point). so as a “delusional zutara shipper” i like to think they were more unsure of the prospect of where their relationship might be if the zuko betrayal never happened in the crossroads of destiny, rather than being disgusted at the statement

they were uncomfortable with the line because they probably realised it was lowkey true. that whole crystal catacomb scene when they were talking about their mothers and zuko’s scar and katara’s hate for the fire nation, that is a really significant conversation to have considering they barely even knew each other at that time? they were so quick to accept and trust each other (and if azula hadn’t manipulated zuko into changing his mind, imagine how immense that trust and respect would be at that same time)

so like yeah, they did always have eyes for each other. they always knew they trusted each other. they always felt as if it would be easy to work together. they saw themselves in each other, and were willing to put their past aside to work together. and it was ruined and yet even when they (katara especially) tried to hate the other, they couldn’t shake those thoughts of how quickly they would’ve dropped everything to give the other a chance. they had eyes for what could’ve been

for katara, i’d say she uncomfortably shifted away because she knows this and she’s thought about it a lot. for zuko, he did it because he also knows this and he regrets his decision to give their alliance a shot. because they had eyes for each other, they subconsciously knew they would make the perfect team even without directly knowing it


Another Day, Another Fuckery: FTP Edition (9/6/17): As Florida braces for Hurricane Irma, the human shit stain known as Sheriff Grady Judd has warned Polk County residents that if they try to use a shelter and have outstanding warrants, his officers will “gladly escort them to the safe and secure shelter called the Polk County jail.” Judd has claimed to be doing this to protect youth from predators, despite the fact that most warrants are not issued for violent crimes like sexual assault, and instead for minor offenses like missing court dates and not paying fines. Further, he has stated that they will be ID’ing people for entry into shelters, meaning undocumented individuals are at risk of being detained if they do not produce documentation. Ultimately, it will likely deter people in the most desperate need of help to avoid seeking out shelter, for fear of a jail cell. With Central Florida in the path of Irma, how many lives will this wannabe-Joe Arpaio cost us? Tell Grady Judd to focus on protecting lives rather than threatening them during this moment of crisis.
Perspective | I wanted to understand why racists hated me. So I befriended Klansmen.
My collection of robes and hoods is still growing.

By Daryl Davis,  September 29 at 6:00 AM:  Daryl Davis, author of “Klan-Destine Relationships,” and subject of the documentary “Accidental Courtesy,” is an award-winning musician, actor, lecturer and race relations expert.    

“One night in 1983, I found myself playing in a country band at a truck stop lounge. I was the only black person in the joint. Taking a break after the first set of music, I was headed to sit at a table with my bandmates when a white gentleman approached from behind and put his arm around my shoulders. “I really enjoy y’all’s music,” he said. I shook his hand and thanked him. “This is the first time I ever heard a black man play piano like Jerry Lee Lewis,” he continued.

I told him that Lewis was a friend of mine and that he had learned his style from watching and listening to black blues and boogie-woogie pianists. My new fan didn’t buy it, but he did want to buy me a drink. While we sipped, he clinked my glass and said, “This is the first time I ever sat down and had a drink with a black man.”

Why? “I’m a member of the Ku Klux Klan,” he said. I burst out laughing. Then he handed me his KKK membership card, and I recognized the Klan’s symbols. In that moment, I was overcome by a question: How could anybody hate me when they didn’t even know me?

I was no stranger to racism. Having grown up a black person in the ’60s and ’70s, I knew that prejudice was common. But I had never understood why. Sitting in that lounge with my new friend, I decided to figure it out in the only way that made sense: By getting to know those who felt hostility toward black people without ever having known any.

Several years later, I recruited that man, whose name was Frank James, to put me in contact with the grand dragon of the Maryland Klan. He tried to deter me, warning that the leader would kill me. But eventually, after I promised not to reveal how I’d gotten the grand dragon’s contact information, James gave it to me.

By then I had decided to travel around the country and interview KKK leaders and members from various chapters and factions to get the answer to my question: How can you hate someone you’ve never met? I was planning to write a book detailing my interviews, experiences and encounters with these Ku Klux Klan members. (The book, “Klan-Destine Relationships,” was published in 1998.)

I had my white secretary, who typically booked my band and assisted me with my music business, set up a meeting with the Maryland grand dragon, explaining that her boss was writing a book on the Klan and would like his input. Per my instructions, she did not reveal the color of my skin.

The grand dragon agreed to participate, and we secured a room at a Frederck, Maryland motel, where my secretary filled an ice bucket with cans of soda so I could offer my guest a drink. Regardless of how and what he felt about me, if he entered my room after seeing the color of my skin, I was going to treat him with hospitality.

Punctual to the minute, there was a knock on the door. The grand nighthawk (the grand dragon’s bodyguard) entered first, and then the dragon himself. “Hello,” I began, “I’m Daryl Davis.” I offered my palm, and the dragon shook my hand as he and the nighthawk introduced themselves. The dragon sat in the chair I had set out, and the nighthawk stood at attention beside him.

We were both apprehensive of the other, and the interview started haltingly. We discussed what he had hoped to achieve by joining the Klan; what his thoughts were on blacks, Asians, Jews and Hispanics; and whether he thought it would ever be possible for different races to get along. A little while later, we heard an inexplicable crackling noise and we both tensed. The dragon and I stared each other in the eye, silently asking, “What did you just do?” The nighthawk reached for his gun. Nobody spoke. I barely breathed.

Seated atop the dresser, my secretary realized what had happened: The ice in the bucket had started to melt, causing the soda cans to shift. It happened again, and we all began laughing. From there, the interview went on without a hitch.

It was a perfect illustration that ignorance breeds fear and possibly violence. An unknown noise in an ice bucket could’ve led to gunfire, had we not taken a moment to understand what we were encountering.

Even though the grand dragon, who now prefers not to be named, had told me he knew that white people were superior to blacks, our dialogue continued over the years. He would visit me in my home, and I would eventually be a guest in his. We would share many meals together, even though he thought I was inferior. Within a couple of years, he rose to the rank of imperial wizard, the top national leadership position in the Klan.

Over the past 30 years, I have come to know hundreds of white supremacists, from KKK members, neo-Nazis and white nationalists to those who call themselves alt-right. Some were good people with wrong beliefs, and others were bad people hellbent on violence and the destruction of those who were non-Aryan.

There was Bob White, a grand dragon for Maryland who served four years in prison for conspiring to bomb a synagogue in Baltimore, where he had been a police officer. When he got out, he returned to the Klan and later went back to prison for three more years for assaulting two black men with a shotgun, evidently intent on murder. But after I reached out to him with a letter while he was in prison for the second time, Bob became a very good friend, renounced the Klan and attended my wedding.

Imperial Wizard Frank Ancona, who headed one of the largest Klan groups in the country, would also become a very close friend. When Frank was killed this year (his wife and stepson have been charged with his murder), one of his Klan members, knowing how close we had been, called me and told me before notifying the police. I accepted the Klan’s invitation to participate in his funeral service.

Three weeks after this summer’s violent clash in Charlottesville, I was invited by the leaders of the Tennessee and Kentucky chapters of Ancona’s branch of the Klan to speak at their national Konvocation. I accepted, spoke and took audience questions after the lecture. Whether or not anyone there immediately changed their minds, we talked as people — and we all benefitted from that.

I am not so naive as to think everyone will change. There are certainly those who will go to their graves as hateful, violent racists. I never set out certain that I would convert anyone. I just wanted to have a conversation and ask, “How can you hate me when you don’t even know me?” What I’ve learned is that whether or not I’ve changed minds, talking can still relieve tensions. I’ve seen firsthand that when two enemies are talking, they are not fighting. They may be yelling and beating their fists on the table, but at least they are talking. Violence happens only when talking has stopped.

And sometimes, people do change. One day in 1999, after having been in the Ku Klux Klan for about 20 years, the Klan leader from the motel interview, whom I watched go from grand dragon to imperial wizard, called me, said he was leaving the Klan and apologized for having been a member. He told me he could no longer hate people. I had not turned out to be what he had always thought of black people. He went on to become one of my best friends, and today I own his robe and hood — one set of many in my collection of garments donated to me by apostate Klansmen and Klanswomen,

which is always growing.”

Watch “The Good Doctor”

Seriously. Go watch it. Support it.

I am crying right now because this show is about a young man with Autism who, his whole life, faced stigma even as he was a genius. He faced many hardships that neurodivergent people face every day, and yet he still pushes forward.

Throughout the episode - the first episode - I felt like someone was batting my heart with a baseball bat until the very end where they reached in and tore it out. The end left me in messy tears.

I never cry in movies. Moved? Yes. Cried? Never. Dogs could die and the main protag could lose it all, and I didn’t bat an eye. This had me crying.

The main character is a savant autistic young man who only wants to help people, help them live long and wonderful lives because of the tragedies of his past. He’s brilliant and has no ulterior motives to be at this hospital besides help people. Yet, even as he has one in his corner, everyone else sees his diagnosis and tries to shut him out.

But he tries. He tries harder than anyone else would. He does the seemingly impossible even as everyone else struggles to understand him.

This show is so important to me as someone who is neurodivergent and as someone who has grown up with autistic family. Please, please watch the show on ABC or hulu or some channel that streams it for cost because it needs support. It needs to stay on the air. It’s too important, already, to lose.

PS For friends, please be warned that this may be triggering. Emotional abuse and abuse of animals is present as is death. If these deter you, then please reblog and have others see it, understand the meaning of the show.

Ray Theory


*Hey guys! Please give me feedback on my Ray Theory if you would like! Also please send a message if you have any theories about his case as well! I love conspiracy theories so I would love to hear from you all!

I would also like to stay that this is just a theory! If you suffer from any sot of mental disorder or DID please do not take any offense to this at all! If I am wrong about something please correct me! Thank you!*

Part 2 Here!

So, I just finished the V route and man do I have theories on this! I’m very hopeful that Ray will get a route as well and from what I’ve seen I think it’s inevitable that soon enough there will be. But, let’s get on with the theory.

So, I think it’s obvious from the dialogue that Ray has some… mental issues. Most likely due to extreme brainwashing, the elixir Mint-Eye provided, and trauma. He has a lot of extreme issues. But let’s talk about an interesting moment I discovered.

So in this moment, Ray claims to be in pain. When the MC asks what happened, he replies that he drank the elixir Rika gave him. He says that he logged on to forget the pain.

Later on the pain becomes overbearing and this is where it gets interesting.

He claims that “he” is here. Who you might ask, well none other than the one and only Unknown!

This is what got me thinking. We all know what Unknown looks like since he appears in the casual and deep stories. Ray and him are supposed to be one person, Saeran. But oddly, instead of being on entity, they appear to be two different personalities. Unknown claims that they take turns ”sleeping” and that he sleeps more often than Ray.

He also claims that he can hear Ray even when he’s asleep, so they both share the same mind and memories.

While Ray is the sweet and obsessive kind, he may show how he cares a little oddly but he has a soft spot for the MC and feels for her. But Unknown, he, like Ray, believes in everything the Savior has done for him but to an extreme extent. He has no deep feelings for the MC other than wanting her as his “assistant” to get his revenge on the RFA. He also is rougher and insults Ray. He seems to not care about anything other than the Mint-Eye.’

I mean even their appearances are completely different.

Ray has a more soft look to him, frilly even. It shows how he has a more caring and upbeat personality.

Unknown (Edgelord™) has an edgy style. It shows he’s rougher on the edges and has an “i don’t care” personality.

This is what brought me to my final conclusion that most of you have probably come to. Saran has a split personality disorder.

Cheritz, you really went all out in this route. So many questions about Saran were answered! Although not all, we got a new insight into him.

So, from what I can deter, Saeran suffers from a disorder more formally known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. Now this is only a theory, but could this game get any deeper? We all were aware that the people of Mint-Eye had many mental issues. Especially Saeran since he’s been exposed to this from a young age. When will we ever get to help him?

Now, for the information part of this theory. Dissociative Identity Disorder is very rare. it only affects approximately 1% of the population of the world. But studies show that children tend to have more cases than adults. This is usually caused by extreme trauma and the such.

This is where Rika comes into play. Rika, whether it be the drug, brainwashing, or something along those lines, also seems to have a type of personality issue. Though, hers is not to the extreme point of Saeran’s.

This DID case for Saeran most likely came to light from the so called elixir Rika had been making him take for years, since it triggers his other personality.

We saw Unknown in the common and deep stories, but it you look closely and reread, You can also point out some Ray aspects in Unknown’s personality, especially in Seven’s route.

Saran was put under the Ray persona due to Rika and her influence on him. He believes every word she says and due to this, he has not only gotten DID, but has also forgotten himself.

In conclusion, I hope that Cheritz considers making an Unknown route if they already don’t have one planned or in the works. I want to understand his mental disorders and learn how he came to be the way he is. What was his breaking point? When did Ray and Unknown make an appearance? How will his happy ending come? For now, let’s enjoy V’s route and cheer on Cheritz to make a Saeran route in the near future! Go give them some love!

Fun book facts about Stan Uris
  • He can bust out way funnier shit than Richie without even trying
  • He’s the first to deter It with the power of belief, and this helps inspire the later courses of action The Losers take against It
  • He loves bird-watching, and bonds with his father over it
  • It’s his idea to clean Bev’s bathroom, he actively walks into it and points to where he can see the blood so she knows she’s not crazy, and when they go to the laundromat to wash the rags they used, he insists on paying for it
  • He’s not reluctant to fight It because he’s afraid. At all. It’s a very strange, complex psychological issue related to being very ordered, perceptive of the world, and “adult”, and almost unable to except any of it is real, but it’s not cowardice.
  • He later makes It fuck off when It’s in the form of a giant bird dive-bombing them in the sewers by standing there screaming at It that no bird like that has ever existed and he doesn’t believe in It, then brushes it off with humility when the other Losers tell him he kicked ass
  • He’s implied to have a better understanding of It than the other Losers did for some reason, intermittent memories of their encounter even before Mike calls, and is theorized to have realized It was pregnant. This is implied to be why he commits suicide rather than go back to face It. He also displays some kind of sense of precognition
  • The chapter of his suicide is told from his wife’s PoV, and paints him as extremely kind, supportive, and loving
  • It was his idea to swear the blood oath in the first place, not Bill’s, and he cuts everyone’s palms (before briefly making a “joke” about slashing his wrists with the piece of broken bottle, which disturbs Bill so much that he almost makes a move on him because he seemed serious)
  • He’s the best love him god damn it

1959 … air defense and Chevy! by James Vaughan
Via Flickr:

Young Volcanoes

Under normal circumstances, the Potter-Weasley-Malfoy family would avoid the Press like the plague, but with a family that big, it’s simply not possible.

Each of the children has mastered their own- unique- method of dealing with the attention…

Harry: Alright, it’s an 18 yard dash to the front door, it’s packed out there, 

Harry: if someone gets separated YOU CIRCLE BACK. No one gets left behind!

Ginny: Remember, don’t tuck your thumbs. It’s all in the elbows, no punches- 

Ginny: I’m looking at you James and Lily.

Harry: Don’t make eye contact, they sense weakness. Understand everyone?

Everyone: *nods*

Harry: Send us off Teddy, Victoire. Battle stations everyone!

Ginny: *whistles* Go go go!


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stricter gun control is not enough

america also glorifies gun ownership. romanticizes it. you see people who love guns, collect guns, fire guns at ranges, consider it a hobby. a gun is not just a tool to them, and they obviously don’t just see guns as self-defense weapons. guns are directly associated in their subconscious with power and masculinity as well. to own a gun is to be in control. this is why you have so many gun fanatics toting that everyone should own a gun and that you can deter shooters or muggers with your own. this is actually not true, and it actually makes you at higher risk. 

i believe that even with stricter gun control, gun culture in america is still going to thrive. maybe we can make it more difficult for criminals to get their hands on guns. but it is often not enough, as more often than not, mass shooters pass background checks.

most mass shooters obtain their guns legally

here’s a more in depth look at where mass shooters get their guns

it’s important to talk about gun control but i think it’s just as important to talk about dismantling gun culture. i’ve seen a lot of talk of the former but none of the latter. so let’s talk about gun culture.

the last time i wrote a post about gun control was after the movie theater shooting in aurora. it was immediately swarmed by conservatives who tracked the gun control tag. i’m not tagging this post because of that but i hope people reblog.

edit: this is most certainly intended to be built upon and start a conversation! i want to hear people go in on this. i am terrible at words and articulating my thoughts so it would be nice to hear what others think.

As I’m standing here, and you hold my hand
Pull me towards you, and we start to dance
All around us, I see nobody
Here in silence
It’s just you and me

A big, warm thank you to the marvelous @molliartsie for making my MC/Maxwell dreams come true. Guys, if you can, please commission her. She makes amazing art that never fails to make your day. <3

wicked in her veins.

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, minor hints of sexual tension / demon!jimin

word count: 1,460

prompt: Getting to dress your demon boyfriend up for Halloween

note: october prompts masterlist

“Hell no. Not happening — fucking ever. Not in your wildest dreams, princess.”

His response was immediate as you made your way down the hallway with the costume in hand. The look on his face as he realized the certain… entity that you were holding was beyond priceless. It was of course the exact reaction that you had been expecting. His brows furrowed while his top lip curled in disgust, the physically aversive response to something as simple as a Halloween costume only causing your amusement to run thicker. No, not even your boyfriend’s harsh refusal could deter your mood, or your powers of persuasion for that matter.

“Oh, is that so?” You replied to Jimin, your brow arched in a way that told him how so far from over this conversation was. “I seem to remember that a certain someone lost a bet to me a few weeks ago? Remember that game of poker? The deal was—”

“—This is what you want to use your win from that on? Baby, c’mon anything else. You’re not this evil, I know you aren’t… Are you?” He was pleading a little, his bottom lip jutting out to try and tug at your heartstrings. Admittedly you felt a tiny pull, but it was quickly overtaken by the image of Jimin wearing the costume that was still dangling from the hanger in your hand.

Your mouth curved into a sultry smile as you made your way closer to him. He was sitting down on the living room couch, a look of despair flooding his eyes as he realized that there was no way in hell that you were backing down from this. You sat the costume onto the open space next to Jimin, his reaction a harsh flare of his nose. However, the tension soon dropped as you went to straddle his lap, your hands swiftly moving to take their place on either side of his face.

“You know, I really thought that a demon would be a lot better at a game all about lying and deceit.”

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Clinton used the same horrible rationale to defend her past support for deporting children. She believes deportation would deter people from sending their children to the border. And let’s not rehab Obama over Trump’s rescinding of DACA. His admin used DACA as public cover for his strong support for deportations, which always included women and children. The Democrats do not have a good record on humanitarian behavior and especially regarding the treatment of refugees and migrants.

The Accidental Sext

Overview: Wrong Number AU. Piss drunk, you decided it would be a good idea to send a raunchy photo of yourself to your ex. But as fate had it, you sent it to the wrong number.

Word Count: About 4,500.

Warning(s): Swearing, drinking, drunk texts, some suggestive content, slight sexting, so much fluff. No smut, but should be 16+ to read.

Author’s Note: Modern, Muggle AU; Sirius Black x Reader. I was reading some “I accidentally sent nudes to my boss” horror stories and this idea came into my head. (Sirius is not her boss.) Enjoy! ;)


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