Fuck The Police And The Racist System That Continues To Kill Black People.

fuck the police and the racist system that continues to kill black people.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

#Blackout for Minneapolis. For Louisville. For Toronto. For Brooklyn. #Blackout for Us All.

To the #Blackout Community and Tumblr at large, 

We know you must have a lot of questions or are feeling distressed about the news. The world has been dealing with a lot this year, and it is an especially harrowing time for Black Americans and Black folks abroad. We know your biggest question right now could be summed up by a quote from Toni Morrison:

“What can I do where I am?”

Here at #TheBlackout, we have decided to help you start finding an answer to that question - we feel that we need each other. We need unity, organization, a clear sense of direction, but more importantly, a space where you can be yourself without judgement or fear.

So, in addition to boosting your art and businesses, our highest priority right now is to provide you all with resources to help you start from where you are.

This is a masterpost of places you can donate, find mental health + spaces for radical self-care, and just do something fun. We will be adding on as things change. 

Donate/Boost/Sign:

Minneapolis Freedom Bail Fund  & Louisville Community Bail Fund 

Reclaim the Block

Black Visions Collective

The Official GoFundMe of George Floyd’s Family

Official Petition for Breonna Taylor 

Justice for Regis Official Fund

Justice for Tony McDade Petition

Black Lives Matter Network

Mental Health Resources:

Ethel’s Club - Black-owned and operated social club offering access to Black therapists and a multitude of creative events for People of Color. 

Crisis Text Line - A different approach to crisis intervention, Crisis Text Line offers you help when you text 741-741. You’ll be able to chat with someone who is willing to listen and provide you with additional resources.

Shine Text. – Black-owned! Sign up to receive cheerful texts and tips every day. 

Therapy For Black Girls - A Black-owned a directory to help you find Black therapists in your area. 

Tips for Organizing/Protesting:

Knowing your rights - ACLU

How To Prepare for a Protest. (Remember to wear a mask in or to protect yourself!)

A Twitter thread of suggested readings

Fun Online Communities and Things to Do:

Some of our favorite online communities. 

Nerd Culture: @blacknerdproblems, @superheroesincolor

Poetry and Literary Spaces: Cave Canem Literary Balms program for Black poets,  Nuyorician Online Open Mic Events, Well-Read Black Girl

Podcasts: Therapy For Black Girls, Strong Black Legends by Netflix’s Strong Black Lead, The Read with Crissle and Kid Fury.

Hobbies: #BlackBirdersWeek by BlackAFinSTEM (5/31 - 6/8), Wellness Week by Black Girl Gamers. 

Join us for the 5/31 Emergency #Blackout/#BlackoutDay here on Tumblr and Twitter.

Update (5/30/2020 4:41 PM EST): Our original post included a memorial link to Tony McDade. We corrected the link to an ongoing petition. As of this posting, there is no official memorial fund collections for Tony McDade.

I’m totally not crying! 😭😭😭

A sweet din suggestion, the child just cries his eyes out and screams “mama!” And “Papa!” While reaching for both the reader and din, eventually the both allow the little green baby to hold on to them both. Din is just staring at the reader the whole time and kinda scared. I know it’s a lot but I’ve been thinking about this 🥺

***Soooo I changed it from mama and papa for OBVIOUS reasons.

Buirs

His breath caught as the three finger hand of the baby reached for him as well. Opening and shutting in the universal language of want. The tiny squeak of a word that came from the child’s mouth.

“Buir!”

He had been talking to the kid a lot. Settled into the captain’s chair of the cockpit, keeping the little womp rat entertained when sleep alluded them both. Letting Y/N catch a few hours of rest below in her bunk without worrying about being woken up. Maker knew the kid kept her on her toes when she was watching him.

Mando had been trying to teach him some of his language. Not basic or the scant few words of the native language he’d spoken before being rescued by the Mandalorians. He’d been teaching him Mando’a. The tongue spoken by those that were born or adopted into the tribe. His Ad’ika was one such child.

Not that he’d found much success whispering the words and their meanings to the kid. For what would be an older man in Mando’s species, the kid couldn’t talk yet. Never doing much more than cooing at him affectionately. But it made him feel good, teaching him the language that had been taught to him. Confiding the meanings behind the words that rolled off his tongue unknowingly sometimes.

Now he knew that the kid had learned. Both adults being surprised when the tiny green baby had screeched the word at the top of his lungs in a bid for Y/N’s attention.

She’d picked him up, a wide smile on her beautiful face. Even though she had no clue what he’d said. Just the fact that he was forming words was a cause for celebration in her mind. Mando however, had been floored. His heart pounding in his chest as he realized that the womp rat knew exactly what he was saying. He’d patted the side of her cheek with his hand and repeated the word.

When Y/N went to move away from the Mandalorian was when he’d reached out again. His hand grasping air insistently as he trilled the word again.

“Buir! Buir!”

His feet felt like lead as he stepped closer. Each one accompanied by another demand from the baby.

“Buir!”

“Buir!”

“Buir”

Until finally he was close enough for the creature to reach both of them. He trembled. Hidden beneath the layers of Beskar and canvas cloth, Mando stood hesitant and nervous. His heart galloping wildly as Y/N leaned closer to him, making it easier for the baby to curl up to both of them.

He didn’t know how to react. Where his hands were supposed to go, so he kept them at his sides. It felt too intimate to touch the baby right now. It would make it seem too much like the images in his mind, those he kept locked away. Aliit, family. The three of them.

Wide doe-eyes looked up at him, the baby curled against her heart making his own lurch at the sight. Igniting the primal instinct inside him to claim them as his. The kid pulled at his chest plate, wanting the bounty hunter even closer. Beckoning him towards the intoxicating allure of the moment.

“What do you think it means?” She whispered. “Buir?”

Behind the helm, Mando’s eyes closed as he heard her speak his language for the first time. The lilting way it dripped from her tongue making him yearn to hear more. More words, deeper meanings spoken softly towards him.

“Parents. He’s- he’s calling us his parents.” He breathed out, anxiety curling in his gut as he admitted the truth.

Y/N looked up at the blank stare of his visor with a toothy smile, rendering him speechless.

“Buir. Hmmm. You’re right, little one. We are your buirs.”

MasterList

Permanent Tag List:

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THIS LOOKS SO PROMISING! PLEASE MAKE THIS INTO A SERIES!!! 😭🙏🏻

Bad News Baby

Here it is, my 1950′s mafia AU. I did change some of the relationships between characters such as Rey for instance (you’ll see what I mean), and we’re just gonna pretend that Snoke, in this story, looks more like Andy Serkus than in TFA and TLJ :)))) 

Summary: Your father hires a personal bodyguard for your protection as the city begins to descend into chaos for an upcoming election. 

Warnings: mentions of violence, arranged marriage, me trying to write as if its the 50s, and death

Word Count: 2k

GIF not mine

Ever since you were a little girl you were told ‘family was everything’. Growing up without a mother and an overprotective father, you knew how important that statement was. With his line of work being questionable at best, you did whatever you could to help keep the peace between the two of you.

Well, that’s what you told yourself when you were forced to marry his much older ‘business associate’, Mr. Snoke. Your father told you that it was the only way to keep you safe, seeing as how he was the leader of the First Order, a crime syndicate that took control of the entirety of Brooklyn, no one would entertain the idea of coming close to you should the organization be threatened.

And they were threatened…often. What with their unofficial alliance with the current Governor of New York - Kylo Ren. The opposing groups disliked his way of governing the state, so with the upcoming election in the next few months, things were becoming more hostile on the streets.

The Resistance, the First Orders prime target, was the biggest threat of them all. While the First Order – or rather – Mr. Snoke, had his influence over the young governor, The Resistance was more interested in seeing Rey Organa in power. She would be the first youngest female governor in history, something you wouldn’t have minded seeing in another life.

A life where you weren’t the daughter and wife of two of the most dangerous mobsters in the city.

Seeing as how Mr. Snoke was much older than you, and far more dangerous that you knew of, he treated you fair enough. You lived in the lap of luxury while you were with him, always buying you expensive things, letting you do what you wanted whenever you wanted.

And it didn’t hurt that he was practically never home, leaving you alone in his giant house.

You lived a lonely way of life but, what else could you expect? You taught yourself to be adaptable at a very young age.

Your father did his best to visit and keep in touch from time to time, but with the upcoming election and the running of certain illegal contrabands from state to state, he was a very busy man.

So, you were surprised to find yourself in his parlour at your old home. Waiting patiently for him to finish his discussion with one of his lackeys before turning to you.

“I’m sorry kiddo,” he started making his way over to you on the couch, you stood up and embraced him. “Things have been a bit tense here lately” he said motioning for the two of you to sit back down.

“I understand Daddy, I’m just glad I get to be back to the ol’ pad once again,” you said gesturing around the room. The room you used to frequent often when you lived back home, you mainly used it to sit around and practice painting.

Something you continued to do after leaving as well.

“I’m glad,” he sighed, “these Resistance folks are cruising for a bruising if they keep acting up at these rallies” he rubbed his chin looking away, you furrowed your brows, “What happened this time?”

He exhaled and waved a hand dismissively, “Nothing you gotta be concerned about sweetheart”

He turned back to look at you and took your hands in his, “What I do have for you is some news” your eyebrows lifted, “Do you?” he nodded, “Mr. Snoke and I’ve been talking, with the election coming up and him and I being out of town more often, you won’t have anyone to look over you while we conduct business”

“Sure, I do, Mr. Snokes place is guarded 24/7, I can’t even go to any of my friends’ bashes without 3 chariots following me”

Your father nodded, “Well, I haven’t seen it get this violent on the streets before so we’re gonna need someone closer to you”

“Closer?”

“A personal bodyguard, he’s the best of the best, hand-picked by your old man,” you scoffed inwardly at the irony of the way he referred to your husband.

You didn’t understand why you needed extra protection, like you said, Mr.Snoke had more than enough men patrolling the house. Men he paid handsomely and were fearful of their employer.

Nonetheless, once again, you were smart enough not to object to the decisions that were made for you.

Before you could open your mouth and ask him for a name, a knock sounded at the door. Your father turned to it, “Come in,” he called.

In strolled your husband and another man behind him. Around the same height as your spouse but far more handsome, and maybe only a couple years older than yourself. His tan skin stood out against his white button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose those tan forearms, and a head of black curls that would make any man envious and any woman immoral.

Yourself included.

Although you entertained the idea, you would never dare to act on those inhibitions. The attention from certain men at the clubs was fun as you were young, but once you had enlightened them on who your husband was, they would cut out, leaving you once again on your lonesome.

Alternatively, having someone like Mr. Snoke as your husband is that no one dared to disrespect you. You liked to believe that it was because you were kind to those around you, but realistically, they were more scared of your husband breaking their kneecaps.

“Hello Darling,” he greeted you, you stood up along with your father. Mr. Snoke embracing you and kissing you on the cheek.

“Hello” you smiled softly at him, eyes never leaving the handsome stranger.

“Who do we have here?” you almost purred, keeping a firm hand on your arm and turning around to motion to the other man.  

“This is Mr. Dameron, your new bodyguard for the time being”

Mr. Dameron stepped forward, extending his hand and you took it, shaking it firmly, “Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Snoke, Poe will do just fine” you shot him a flirtatious smile, something your father and husband didn’t see as they had been partaking in another conversation. , “Please, just (Y/N), Poe…it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”  

—

Ever since Poe Dameron was a child, he always wanted to be a pilot. The air force specifically. But he grew up in a poor part of Brooklyn with his parents, it was hard for them to scrape enough money for him to even have a remotely normal life.

Upon graduating high school, he entered the workforce early, working at his dad’s motorcycle garage while playing his guitar for tips on the pier every Saturday and Sunday. The money he earned were used for College and then Flight School.

It wasn’t until his mother got sick when he officially gave up his dreams to stay and take care of her, both him and his father pooling as much of their money together to pay for her medical bills.

Unfortunately, the cancer won, and she succumbed to it when Poe was only 18. After that, it was only him and his father, working tirelessly to afford their discouraging way of life.

However, lucked seemed to be on their side for the time being as money suddenly began to be filling in their bank accounts, so they could move out of their shitty one bedroom to a nice home in the suburbs. When Poe turned 20, he found out about his father’s affiliations with the Resistance. A group based in the Upper East Side of New York. Their motto was ‘For the People’, meaning they would do their best to stop the city from falling into the hands of corrupted cops and government officials.

That is, until Governor Ren got elected, then things got more hostile, the city falling under corruption, so the Resistance took a more…assertive approach to how they handled things. Poe tried his best to keep himself out of it, but as the years continued and the more committed, he became more committed to the cause.  

It wasn’t until his father was gunned down on the streets by one of Mr. Snokes right hand men. Poe through his anger and grief wanted nothing more than to go ape and hurt every single person Mr. Snoke and his comrades claimed to love, in order for this monster to feel anything remotely similar to how he felt upon losing the only family member he had left.

But, Finn, the Resistance’s leader convinced him otherwise.

“The moment you step foot into Snoke’s palace, you’re a goner” he’d said, “that is, unless you worked for him…” Poe, who had been looking out the window of the warehouse the two had met up in snapped his gaze over towards his friend.

“Excuse me?”

“Word on the street is, he’s looking for someone to protect his missus on the daily”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. He’s nervous cause of the upcoming election, this Rey gal is giving Ren a run for his money”

“I mean she is Leia’s god-daughter” Poe noted, Leia Organa being a retired politician and founder of the Resistance was a strong headed woman, she was the one who called the shots and whom the people had come to love and respect. However, with her old age she decided to pass on the responsibilities of the gang to Poe, who, after his father’s death, refused only to have the job offered to Finn. In Poe’s opinion, he was a much better fit.

“So, we forge some documents, make u look like some sort of retired LA cop and send you in to the devils lair”

One month later, and Poe found himself doing just that. Taking the back seat of Mr. Snokes car, he tried not to think about how the man he promised would pay for his fathers death only an arm’s reach away.

Walking up the grand stair- case, Poe knew that this wasn’t Mr. Snokes home by the way he knocked on the door before entering a lounge area. Heading in his eyes landed on a younger looking dolly, much younger than Poe had initially thought, and he wondered if Finn might’ve gotten his information wrong, that he was going to protecting Snokes daughter. But you looked nothing like the mob boss, instead more like the man beside you.

The man who he recognized as the scamp who murdered his father. 

However, turning back to you, he thought It had been months since he had entertained a woman, and he was most definitely taken aback by your beauty. Laying with you while being forbidden was making it all the more tempting. He expected a woman who would be wearing lavish clothes and jewelry to show off her social status, but instead, you wore a simple navy-blue polka dot dress and red heels to match your very perfect lips, and two brochettes to pin some hair back from your face.

He tried not to let your gaze distract himself from his job, his mission was to gain the trust of the two men talking business on the side, but he could already tell, by the way you looked at him and introduced yourself, you were bad news baby.

So, I do have plans on making it a series BUT only if you guys want :) let me know!! :)

Frankie giving her one of his dog tags? IM CRYING!!! I’m mentally preparing myself for the part where he has to leave. 😣 Great job as always!

pragma - part eleven

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: After such a rough chapter, I decided to keep this one light and fluffy and domestic because we all know what’s coming.

Summary: You spend a beautiful day with Frankie and he gives you something to hold onto for him.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

gif by @lostinmysticfalls

Having Frankie basically live with you had turned out to be one of the best decisions you’d ever made. You both made each other happy and better, in a sense. Was this what you had been missing all this time?

“Where’d you go?” Frankie asked as you two laid in bed facing each other. You didn’t notice yourself getting lost in thought.

“Sorry. Just thinking.”

“About?” He took your hand and laced his fingers with yours.

“You.” You kissed his nose.

“Good stuff I hope…or naughty stuff.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled.

“I save the naughty stuff for my dreams,” you told him.

His face lit up. “You have dreams about me?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re pretty fucking dreamy, sir.” Seeing his face slowly flush made you smile. “I always have dreams about you but I like the real thing better.”

“In your dreams I’m probably built like some Greek god or something.”

“Nope. You’re just the way you are: perfect.” You played with the V-shaped part of his shirt. “Especially in this shirt.”

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Il materiale di origine: Oscar Isaac photographed by David Slijper for Esquire UK (December, 2017) #myedit