but real talk where are the black people in brooklyn on this show

Caller From New York


Over the past few weeks, things have been going really great for me. I’ve been bringing in a lot of money since i opened my salon suite which was amazing. I was working like non stop during the day, but i loved the dollars it brought. Since i had been working so hard and stacking my paper, i decided it was time to treat myself to something nice. So i settled to get what i’ve been wanting for a while, a new Mercedes. I figured, what the hell right? Gotta ride my pretty ass in style so why not?

I made my way over to the dealership, looking bad and boujee of course, as i pranced my excited ass through each car until i found the one that was perfect for me. It was a pretty, white, little two-door that had a lot of power. I could just see my ass beaming and gleaming down the streets in this lil baby and i had to have this one. It was clean and perfect and was pretty spacious on the inside for Cam and his long-legged ass. I wanted to consider Cameron too because he drives my Jeep all over the place every time we’re together now but i wanted him to be able to fit comfortably in my new car.  

When i finally came to a decision, I went inside to fill out paperwork and run my information. I sat at the available salesman’s desk and pulled out my wallet and phone. I looked and saw that i had missed a call from a random number but me, not paying much attention because i was too excited about the car, i didn’t look at the area code.

When I began to give Steve (Salesman) all my info, my phone kept ringing back to back from this unknown number. I finally turned it over and saw that the number was from Brooklyn, New York. My heart sank into my fuckin stomach. All the people i still kept up with in New York were saved in my phone so i knew this could only be one person. Why the fuck was he calling me now? I haven’t heard from this nigga in over 7 months. So i guess he feels like he can just pop back into my life when it was convenient for him? He was a selfish asshole and i wasn’t falling back into his trap so i let that shit ring. 

Obviously distracted by the multiple phone calls, i wasn’t paying attention to the questions Steve was asking me. I was lost in my thoughts as i watched the phone ring yet again. Steve paused with his questionnaire and asked if i wanted to take a moment to take the call. I snapped back and shook my head and placed my phone on silent then tossed it into my bag, hoping that nigga would get the point. 

Later that evening (Cameron’s POV)

I had just got back in town from base and all i was really wanting to do was be with Kala tonight. I didn’t care what we was doing just as long as i was doing it with her, but i guess she sensed i was tired and so was she so it ended up being a netflix night at her apartment, which was cool with me. We had been binge watching Vampire Diaries (Her choice not mine) for the past few weeks. We agreed not to watch it without each other so I guess you could say it was our show and since i had been gone for two weeks we had to get our fill of Stefan, Damon and Elena. 

We were laid up on the couch and i was holding her tight and kissin all on her like i always do. Normally, Kala would be the same way but tonight she was quiet. I noticed that Kala had been a little off tonight, she wasn’t as clingy as she usually is when i come back to town. I was not sure if she just wasn’t feeling well or what. I knew she was excited earlier about her new car but I could tell something was on her mind but she wasn’t ready to share yet and i wasn’t gonna force her to tell me. So we laid there not saying much. 

Our phones were laying on the coffee table next to our leftover pasta i had brought over and Kala’s phone just kept going off. It was turned face down and all night long when it would ring she would silence the call. I figured her and one of her little girlfriends might have gotten into it and she was avoiding the call or something. That would explain her mood tonight. i didn’t wanna be pushy and ask. i figured if she wanted me to know, she would tell me but at the same time i didn’t want my baby sad over some bullshit. 

When the phone rang again, Kala didn’t move. I reached over and silenced the phone myself and looked to see if she was sleeping. She was awake but i could tell her mind was somewhere totally different. 

“You okay babe?”

“Oh…Um.. yeah i’m fine. Just watching the show. Can we take a pause break, i gotta pee real quick.” she said while untangling her legs from around mine and getting up from the couch quickly. 

I sat up on the couch stretching my legs for a second. It was getting late and i was getting tired. i was ready to move this back to her bedroom. I was about to pick up my phone to see what time it was when her phone started ringing once again.

Annoyed at the fact that they had been calling all fucking night, i flipped the phone over to reveal a number with a location of Brooklyn, New York. I knew Kala had lived up there briefly last year but i was curious as to who would be blowing her phone up like this. 

I sat there and thought about letting the phone go into voicemail once again but i wanted to tell whoever was fuckin with Kala to calm that shit down. I watched as the phone seemed to ring forever. I figured, what the hell right? i mean, we not official but we been together for like 4 months now. I think i’ve earned the right to answer her phone. I reached down and clicked the answer button and placed the call on speaker. 

“Yo, Who this and why you keep calling this number?”

“Awww, Shit. This must be K’s New nigga huh? Damn, that bitch move on fast.”

“The fuck you talking bout bro? Who is this?”

“Calm down lil nigga. Where Kala at?”

“I’mma ask this one last time and then you gettin clicked on nigga, Who the fuck is this?”

“Chill out chump. Nigga its Stefon. Tell Kala to hit me back. I need to speak with her.” He said as he hung up the phone. 

I put the phone down, pissed off. Who the fuck is this nigga to Kala? Ignorant ass muthafucka. I sat there heated as i waited for Kala to come back out the bathroom. When she did she saw that i was mad af. She sat down and look to see her phone turned over and unlocked. 

“Who is Stefon?”


YO Setfon really got some fucking nerve man!! omggg! this was me yall!

Originally posted by gifs-for-the-masses

Bucky’s Girl |Series| 5/?

Originally posted by bartowskis

Summary: You’re dating Bucky Barnes, it’s good. It’s beautiful. Steve, his best friend has had a crush on you, wayy before Bucky returned. (Series)
Warnings: Angst/ inspired by that one story in Love Actually but kinda not/
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Wade Wilson, Negasonic, Colossus, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker & Sharon Carter.

Inspired by the song Jessie Girl - Rick Springfield

Part One * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four * Part Five

Originally posted by hopeinloveinfinity

“A stag party?” Bucky raised an eyebrow as he dodged a left hook from Sam, “Really? You want to host a bachelor party?” Steve refrained from a snappy comment, watching as Barnes and Wilson spared one another in the boxing ring.

Steve sighed. “I figured, why not? It will be fun, a guy’s weekend, we go to a bar and have a few drinks, play some darts; what could go wrong?”

“Sure, I’ll ask Y/N,” Bucky responded and Sam laughed, earning a punch to the jaw that he didn’t dodge in time. “We originally weren’t going to do the whole stag and hen parties, so I gotta inform her, maybe, get Nat to do something that night with her.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll go ask Nat, she’ll talk Y/N into having one.” He waved his friends off and headed towards Nat’s room that she had at the compound. Her room wasn’t far from the gym/ training area, she liked to be within range, early morning workout sessions and so forth. Her door was already opened; he knocked twice before he heard the quiet ‘come in’.

Nat’s room was tranquil and peaceful; it was entirely different to her. Her usual black and red aesthetic were replaced with white, pale blues and fluffy rugs. A whole wall was glass (that she could look out of but no one could see in.), it overlooked the forest that shielded this place. She had picture frames hanging on the walls, her and the Avengers, a few Polaroid’s of her and Clint’s kids. She had a bookshelf of poetry books, plus how to learn piano books, from what he could see she was also fond of the author Michelle Paver.

Natasha was sat on her bed, cream sheets that had a geometric pattern on it. Auburn hair pulled into a messy pony-tail, a blanket under her feet because she was painting toenails, she glanced up briefly before looking back at her toes and continuing to paint them a glossy red; her favourite colour.

“So, I know you didn’t want to be involved but I need a favour,” he smiled pleadingly and she exhaled softly; choosing not to look at him. “I’m gonna throw a stag party for Bucky this weekend, I need you to occupy Y/N time for that weekend, pleaseeeee.” He got on his knees beside her bed, resting his clasped hands on the comforter and pouted up at Nat.

She put the lid back on the nail polish, finally, looking at him as she did so. He watched her debate it over in her head, her green eyes narrowing before looking back at him. “Why couldn’t you love someone else?” That question threw him off, he rested his chin on the bed, knees starting to ache but he didn’t move and shrugged his shoulders in response. “I’ll do it, on one condition!”

Steve nodded, “Anything.”

“When this is all over,” Natasha began in a soft voice, placing a hand on top of Steve’s, “You ask them to move out of your apartment.” He sighed gently at that request, “you can’t live with a married couple, especially if you love one-half, and I ask this because I care about you and actually want what’s best.”

He nods slowly, “I promise.”

Stag Weekend- Day One

Mission: Show Bucky What He’ll Miss

“Las Vegas, Stevie?” Bucky asked in surprise as he looked at the aeroplane ticket, first class too, compliments of Tony; who was away on ‘business’ and couldn’t attend. “I thought we’d be going bar hopping in Brooklyn,” he chuckled with disbelief.

Steve winced slightly, “Well, it wasn’t entirely my idea.” He truthfully admitted, Bucky looked up and frowned before sighing, Steve felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and he knew it was Wade; from the smell of spicy food, gunpowder and… strawberries?

“Strawberry flavoured lube it’s a godsend.” Was the first thing to sprawl out of the man’s mouth, he still had the Deadpool suit on, a Hawaiian shirt over the top and khaki shorts. “So, there’s the groom, long time Buckaroo.”

Bucky glared from Wade to Steve. “You invited Pool, really?” Steve shrugged, “we better not be robbing banks or killing people, I expect good ole’ drinking, no strippers or prostitutes.” He warned.

Wade held up his hands, “Hey, there are children present.” He pointed to Negasonic, she was busy typing on her phone and not looking up; black leather jacket and shades. “I’m babysitting for the weekend while tin-man is away,” Wade informed.

Instead of answering both Bucky and Sam turned away, walking towards the gate where the plane is taking off. Wade, Steve and Negasonic followed.

“Did you pack it?” Wade asked as they sat down in their respected seats.

“Of course, I’m not an idiot. It was hard getting into Tony’s stash but I got it,” referring to the Asgardian liquor that Thor left behind. It was the only stuff strong enough to get Steve and Bucky drunk, they’d need it for the plan to work.

The plane journey was short but silent, Bucky was still upset that Wade is coming and Sam knew something was going down. They got to Caesars Palace, penthouse suit, all courtesy of Stark. They watched as Negasonic walked off to a room, shutting the door with a slam and turning on music loudly.

“She’s in Las Vegas and she wants to listen to death metal, where did I go wrong?” Wade asked placing his hands on his hips, “Okie dokie, folks. We got exactly one hour till happy hour down in the VIP Lounge, freshen up, you too Birdie.” Wade walked off to his respected room, leaving Steve to face his two pissed best friends.

Steve sighed. “Wade is actually okay when you get to know him,” he tried but earned an eye roll from Sam who sat on the sofa, Bucky crossed his arms. “The only person I knew would make this weekend fun was Wade; I’ve had some great nights with the guy, give him a chance?”

“Fine.” Bucky sighed, “What could possibly go wrong?”


“Steve where the hell is Bucky?” Sam asked above the music blasting in the small VIP lounge, dancers, mostly half naked females, all grinding on the small dance floor.

Steve looked around, a little tipsy himself; he couldn’t see the familiar frame of his best friend. Last time he saw him… he was at the bar, watching as Steve got dragged away to dance, he seemed to be having a good time, laughing and drinking at the expense of his friends. Wade wasn’t anywhere in view either, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a brief moment.

“Oh shit!” Steve yelled and ran out of the lounge, Sam following closely behind. “Crap, I can’t believe I let myself get side-tracked,” he mumbled to himself as he walked to the elevator.

“What’s happening?” Sam asked as they stepped into the elevator.

Steve sighed and looked at Sam.

Two Hours Before

“Steve, I’ve got a really good idea.” Wade grins widely at the man, “So, I know you said no hookers but I called in a favour and she’s willing to entice Barnes into sleeping with her; wedding will be called off for sure.” Steve frowned.

Steve had already had a few pre-drinks, Sam’s idea for having to deal with Wade for the weekend. He was about to decline when Bucky rounded the corner, a little tipsy and holding some Asgardian liquor, he wrapped an arm around Wade.

“Man, you’re ugly,” Steve snickered at that as Wade rolled his eyes at the soldier.

“Buckaroo, a friend of mine is coming to see you, her name is Crystal, and you want to see her?” Wade asked in a sickly sweet voice. Bucky shrugged with a sluggish smile, Wade looks at Steve with a winner smile before taking the metal arm off of his neck. “I’ll go pick her up, meet in the Golden VIP Lounge.”


“Wait, wait, hold on,” Sam held his hands up and turned to face Steve. “Wade hired a hooker friend to seduce Bucky and you didn’t stop him?” He asked with mistrust.

Steve scratched the back of his neck out of nerves. “I didn’t really comprehend what he was getting her for till now.” Steve sighed, “The whole plan was to get Bucky drunk, show him how much fun he’ll be missing out on, maybe, even talk him out of it whilst he is drunk.” Steve shrugged, missing the look of utter horror on Sam’s face.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Sam demanded; Steve glanced at him. “Seriously, Steve, this is unhealthy. If I knew this was the real reason for this weekend I wouldn’t have come along, I may not be Bucky’s biggest fan, but this is low. No wonder you’ve been hanging with Wade, he’s encouraging this behaviour.” Sam reprimanded his friend, Steve refrained from eye rolling.

“You sound just like Nat,” he muttered under his breath but Sam heard, opting to not answer instead cross his arms. The elevator doors open, faint music playing and Wade sat on the sofas with Negasonic, both watching TV some reality show.

Wade turns his head to meet Steve and Sam’s gaze; he nods to the room where a door is shut. Steve instantly stalks to the door, pushing it open, prepared to see a horrible situation. Instead, it was Bucky, head in the hookers lap, crying as she petted his hair. She was young, looked uncomfortable with the situation, Steve smiled awkwardly at her.

“Hey, I’ve got it from here, thanks for your time.” Steve offered, helping lift Bucky’s head off of her, she muttered a thank you, grabbing a leather jacket and her heels before silently leaving the room and closing the door. “Hey, buddy, what’s the matter?”

Bucky sniffs loudly, sitting up and wiping his eyes with his metal hand, then crying all over again when he sees the shiny metal. “We’re supposed to be dead, did you know that? We should be dead right now, instead you’re Captain America and I have a metal arm,” he cried silently, Steve raises his eyebrows, not sure what to make a sad, drunk, James.

“Yeah, it’s great.” Steve offers, “We’re back together, best friends, we have good lives and we both get second chances.”

It’s silent for a long while, Steve’s arm wrapped around Bucky, mostly to keep him sitting up straight. “I always thought you’d be married first, even back then,” Bucky mutters and Steve frowns. “Yeah, you were small but you had a big heart and it wouldn’t have taken long for a dame to notice that. Peggy did.” Bucky sighs lightly, staring off at a wall. “Then we come to this century, I figured you would have found someone, thought it was Natalia for a while, even Y/N, but yet, here we are.” He smiles and chuckles despite himself.

Steve looked at the carefree smile on his best friends face. He looked at ease, no stress or something lurking behind the eyes, there was a glimmer of his past self, that easy going Barnes that Steve longed to see most days.  

(Let me know what you think of this part. It’s a little longer than most of the other parts. Worked really hard on this, also planned the ending, so all goes well this could be ending soon… not that anyone wants to hear that. - Rosalie)

Everything Tagging list(let me know if you wanna be added or taken off- this tagging list means you’ll be told when I post anything; Marvel, The Walking Dead & Riverdale(I don’t do seperate ones for those)): @girl-next-door-writes @22ifyoukeepmenextoyou @t3-daria-todo @sebby-staan@skylark50 @thegoddamnfeels @gillibean9 @sergeantjamesbarnes107th  @full-of-sins-not-tragedies @fxcknbarnes@broncos5soslover @say-my-name-assbut @fangirlwithasweettooth @buckyismybbz @charlotteblanden @momscapris @mashroom-burrito @firewolfkelly @winterboobaer

@mychocolatemints @avengingthesupernatural @usannika @itzelreade r @tillytheinvisibleshadow @tomhollahd @imagining-marvel-soldier @oh-my-gravity @what-the-ducky-bucky @heyitssilverwolf @katiegrace122 @newtmas-newtella @sillylittlemary  @buckyhawk @codexofwitches @the-the-sound-of-the-bees-blog @songsforsentences @leahneslen21@whateveriwantworld @itsblehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @cassiebarnes  @that-one-jewish-elf @tardispandagirl  

@theawkwardone-0002 @djpaige13paige @thewinchestersbabe @majestic-squad  @fangirlextraordinaire713 @stevesmylove82 @mrporkstache @marvelousmimi  @shadyweeny @thequeenofgood @calursocute @casey-anne-j @ohmoveoveralohomora @grass-is-not-green @hiphoppery @imnotinsanehunny @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @coltcas @agalaxyofgayships  @jjsoccer11 @broken-pieces @courtneychicken

Bucky’s Girl Tag list: @adarkcloud @awinterloveuniverse @buckys-baby  @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @johnnnmurphy @mags-moore @specs15  @litterally-trash @stressed-depressed-bandobsessed @yknott81 @brooke-supernatural16 @xxchexchickxx @hellkat2 @snuggleducky @inked-petals @agentmstark @fearthedietcoke @marvelgoateecollection @liajiah @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @johnnnmurphy @mags-moore @specs15@stress-depressed-bandobsessed @brooke-supernatural16 @yknott81 @noeypiiepiie @multifandom-states @sgt-jbb-107 @noir-agneau @litterally-trash @i-had-a-life-once

sometimes it still amazes me that despite gifsets of scenes getting so many notes on tumblr thanks to it being a genuinely funny, unproblematic show, not a lot of people actually watch brooklyn nine-nine?? listen y’all if you’re tired of tv shows being misogynistic, racist, homophobic, and all around problematic then i honestly don’t understand why you have not seen the light by watching b99 like this show has made my life so much better!! i have TWO beautiful, badass, multi layered latina detectives to look up to, who are treated with respect and admiration by their male co-workers!! i have actual cinnamon roll jake peralta who has never done Anything Wrong in his life, despite being the white male main character; he always treats his women partners as equals, and is disgusted when other male side characters say misogynistic things!! i have captain raymond holt, a black, gay police CAPTAIN who has worked his entire life to move past prejudice to get to where he is!! his sexuality is not used as the butt of ANY joke, but is simply just another part of his multi layered character, and he is shown to have a healthy relationship with his husband!! the most important relationship on this show?? the relationship between all of them, whether in duos/trios/or a whole squad, focusing on how despite how different they all are, they all love each other and have made a family out of such a group!! it also has no chill, talking about real police issues, how women have to stick together, and taking usual stereotypes and stomping all over them!! there’s no need to worry about characters being killed off for shock value or to cause manpain!! honestly there is absolutely nothing wrong with this show: it is genuinely funny, the characters are lovable, the relationships realistic and healthy, and it deserves  much  more recognition than it’s getting. 

tldr; watch brooklyn-nine nine. you will not regret it.

August 23, 2016 (Day 59)

9:30 am…74 degrees

“Hey, babe? Did you see they are having a massive power outage in New York?” Rick chuckled. “They talk about us not being able to handle snow in the South, but it seems like every summer the power gets overloaded and goes out and you see a mass of people walking over the Brooklyn Bridge to get home cause the subway is down. Talking about our infrastructure can’t handle the cold, well theirs can’t handle the heat.”

Michonne glanced up from her magazine as Rick came into the living room. “You’re getting a real kick out of this, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I get sick of hearing them play ‘Deliverance’ every time they show a car stuck in a few inches of snow back home. Back home we need to start running these stories from up here and playing something like ‘Ice Ice Baby.’ That would—“

Rick’s sentence was interrupted by a loud pop that was immediately followed by the power going out.

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I would like to thank @leaalda for making these amazing banners.

This is an effort to spread the word about all fan fiction writers in our little fandom. If you would like to be featured or nominate a writer, please contact me. Please reblog this post if you can and check out some of @justcourbeau work!

1. First things first, if someone wanted to read your stories where can they find them.

AO3 or FanFiction.

2. Tell us a little about yourself.

I’m 26, I live in Vancouver, I’m a technical pattern drafter in the fashion industry. I’ve been reading and writing fanfiction for over a decade, and I’m part of the Harry Potter fandom, too. (My fanfiction account has my HP fics posted, but I haven’t uploaded them to AO3 yet because editing.) Into tiny houses, veganism, singing badly yet incessantly, and making things.

3. What do you never leave home without?

My phone.

4. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

Night owl who prefers to work early and suffers through getting out of bed way before she really wants to.

5. If you could live in any fictional world which one would you choose and why?

Harry Potter, for sure. It’s the universe I spent so much time submerged in, and it feels like home. Runner up is His Dark Materials/The Golden Compass.

6. Who is the most famous person you’ve ever met.

Hugh Jackman, probably.

7. What are some of your favorite movies/TV?

Riverdale, Fringe, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Outlander, Scrubs, Buffy, The Office, The Killing, Stranger Things, Brooklyn 99, Orange is the New Black, Sense8, Suits, Call the Midwife, Santa Clarita Diet, Downton Abbey. Many.

8. What are some of your favorite bands/musicians?

OK Go, Snow Patrol, Owl City, Andrew Belle, Ed Sheeran.

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Love or Hate (Part 2 of 13)

Summary: AU. When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she continues to see the person responsible all over town. After a series of unfortunate events, will she learn that there’s a fine line between love and hate?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,759

Warnings: language, excessive snark, childish behavior

A/N: Part two of my third drabble series. Bucky has most definitely been showing his inner dbag lately, hasn’t he?

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 -

Originally posted by likemadeofstarlight

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Since the catastrophe of a dinner at Cam’s mother’s house, i hadn’t spoken to him in over a week. At first i decided to give him some time and space but after two days of not even hearing from him at all, i tried to reach out. I sent countless texts apologizing and expressing that i wanted to meet with him just to talk and still no response. Now i was startin to get pissed off. I couldn’t understand how he claimed he has all these “feelings” for me but yet when i try to talk things out, i suddenly can’t get ahold of this nigga. I was beyond frustrated and fed up with the silent game. 

I had recently been invited to a wedding from one of the few friends i still kept up with in New York. When i initially got the invitation, i didn’t plan on going, but since this shit with Cam, i changed my mind last minute and booked a flight. I was scrambling around my apartment in a hurry to grab everything i needed so i could be at the airport on time. I decided to give Cameron one last call before i left my apartment in hopes that he would actually answer this time. I placed the call on speaker as i walked slowly in anticipation of him interrupting the ring-tone and hearing his voice. And as i predicted he didn’t answer so i left a message. 

“…After the tone… [Beep]”

“Hey Cam, it’s me. Look.. i really wanna see you or at least talk to you before i leave town. It’s been over a week and i get it.. you made your point. But this shit right here… the ignoring game, i don’t like it. So please.. call me back.. Bye.”

I slammed my phone down in frustration and ran my hands down my face as i let out a sigh. As much as i tried to fight it, i really cared a lot about Cameron and this was hurting me. I literally went from talking to him 24/7 for the last four months to a whole week of absolutely no communication. He was my best friend beyond anything else and i felt like i deserved an explanation of where his head is, at the very least. Or even if i just explained where my head is at right now. I’m ready for a relationship with him now. He’s shown me time and time again that he’s a good man… that he’s my man. This was an eye opener for me. I don’t want to be without him. I’m finally ready to build something solid with him and i don’t want to leave town without telling him how i feel.  “Fuck” i said to myself as i looked down at my watch and began throwing all my shit in my purse. I scurried my ass out my apartment quickly in hopes to make one last minute attempt at catching Cam before i had to catch my flight. 

I said a little prayer and did a mental checklist as i looked over my apartment one last time before walking out the door. 

My heart was racing all the way to Cameron’s place. When I pulled up to his building, his truck was in his usual spot. I touched up my makeup and teased my ponytail a little so i could look extra cute. I got out my car and when i looked up Cameron was walking out his building, lookin like he was about to go for a run. 

We made eye contact and his entire face fell like i was the last person he wanted to see. He walked over slowly to me and kept a distance. 


What’s up?” he asked in a stern voice.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Make sure you’re okay. How are you?”

Yeah, i got the calls and the texts. I’m okay.

“So… you just.. didn’t want to talk to me? I’ve been worried about you.” i said standing there nervously.

Honestly Kala, i didn’t have anything to say.


I mean i don’t know what you want and i’m not just gonna sit here in limbo waiting on you to figure it out. I can’t. I’m getting older. I want someone who actually wants to be in a relationship. I can’t just keep giving you sex and emotional support only when its convenient for you. It doesn’t work like that. And honestly if that’s all you want then i don’t want to do this with you anymore. I tried your way. You were starting to ease up, show me who you are past this wall that you put up. You started letting me in and things weren’t all about sex anymore. And honestly, I got comfortable and started thinking we were more than what we were. Then I take you to meet my mother.. My mother, Kala and all you can say is that i’m just your friend? I can’t be your companion in the dark and your friend around other people. No. I’m too good for that. I deserve more than that. And until you get that shit together… I’m done.

I stood there in silence as his words pierced my emotions. I had so much to say, yet i was speechless. We stood there staring at each other eye to eye for a few seconds before he scoffed and began jogging down the sidewalk. He took a few steps then turned back and came close to me. 

You are so frustrating because here i am giving you an opportunity to say whatever is on your mind, and like always, you’re letting your pride or your dignity or whatever the fuck get in the way. Kala, i’m done with this.” he said as he took off in a sprint.

The entire flight to Brooklyn my heart was heavy. It took everything i had not to break down in tears. But everything Cameron said was true. His words kept replaying in my mind like a broken record and it was hard for me to concentrate on anything else. Luckily, i was meeting up with one of my good friends Lani ( @kidzgangjay ) who came from Jersey to attend the wedding too. We had booked rooms at the same hotel but we decided to meet up for a bite at our favorite little cafe in Soho. i hadn’t seen her since before i left New York over eight months ago. We talked from time to time but we haven’t had a moment to just catch up since the last time i was sitting in her kitchen telling her i was pregnant with Stefon’s baby. 

When i got to the restaurant, Lani was already there waiting at the front looking at the pastries.  

“LANI” I screamed as we flew into each other’s arms for a hug that was well overdue.

“Hi Kakes! I’ve missed you!” 

Seeing Lani was always like a breath of fresh air. Every time we saw each other it was like we picked up where we left off like there was no time distance between us. I truly considered her a sister to me. We stood there hugging each other not wanting to let go for a few moments. When we finally let go and pulled back we both started crackin up at the fact that we were both crying literal tears. 

We stood there wiping our tears and fixing each other’s makeup as half of the empty restaurant watched us. We ordered our food and sat at a table and dived right into it. i started telling her about how things were going with my business  first then somehow we got on the subject of Stefon and how i dealt with losing the baby. Thats when i started telling her about Cam and how he was such a distraction from a low point in my life. She could see how i lit up talking about him and showing her a million pictures of us.

“So when am i gonna meet this guy?”

i placed my phone down on the table as my face fell.

“What happened?”

“well.. long story short, i have commitment issues and he called me out on them.”

“So what you guys arent on good terms right now or?”

“yeah definitely not. i went by his place before i caught my flight and i honestly think i made things worse.” i said as i began telling her about his exchange of words with tears in my eyes. 

“oh no honey, you need to fix that like.. yesterday. He sounds like too good of a man to just let go of. and i know you’re only trying to guard your heart but you”re hurting him in the process of trying to protect yourself. And to me, i feel like he”s shown you that he”s in it forreal. so really there’s no need to protect yourself in the first place. He’s got a great job, good dick, and a genuine heart. Girl you better fix that before some other girl takes your man.”

This is why i loved Lani. She always kept it real with me and didn’t just tell me what i wanted to hear. A part of me was still sad and missing Cam but i knew what i had to do as soon as i got back to Miami.  

“Enough about me and my shenanigans, how are things with you and Bry-”

“Don’t even get me started on that two-timing, unfaithful, lying ass nigga.” She said cutting me off mid sentence 

Oh my God. what the hell happened?” i asked as we both started laughing at her going off about him. 


Seeeeee.. Kala over there playin and some other girl finna SNATCH ya mans gurl. Betta take you a kit kat break and get that shit together boo boo

Originally posted by entertainmenttonight

Heat of the Moment Part 2

Summary: Things get heated when Peter Parkers older sister comes for a visit when Peter’s never talked about her. Things get heated between reader and Scott. Bucky and Steve land themselves in an uncomfortable situation with each other. What really went on that night?

Author(s): Caitsy and Ash

Warnings: Smut, swearing, Stucky, fluff.

Disclaimer: We do not own marvel or any characters. We also don’t own any gifs, images, jokes or songs that appear in this prompt.

Requested: Yes.

A/N The much anticipated part 2 for Heat of the Moment with Stucky. Both Ash and I don’t ship Stucky but low and behold I ignited the fire in shipping them. Also do you want to see more co-authoring by us?

Master List

Prompt List


Originally posted by triggeredbarnes

You groaned pushing yourself away from Scott before the teasing began when everyone wandered into the room. Sam was covering himself as he searched for his non-existent clothing, without the alcohol his cockiness wasn’t extremely high. Your head was pounding. You sat up and silently looked over the situation. “When’s he’s quiet, he’s kind of cute” you thought to yourself.

You sat up and held your head in your hands. You took in your surroundings, you couldn’t help but wonder where the Cap had ran off to. The last thing you remember was the way he was silently making eyes at Bucky after their little dare. Bucky was waking up on the other couch shifting uncomfortable and you sure as hell noticed another soldier on that couch. Specifically in his pants.

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Joey Purp is carving a name for himself in Chicago as being one of the most fluid rappers on the scene, and for good reason. His effortless rhymes seep out of each song like syrup, while his beats draw you straight to the dance floor. It’s no surprise we’ve had his recent hit “Girls @” on repeat since we first saw him play at SXSW, and we couldn’t wait to jam with him again at House Of Vans Brooklyn. We caught up with Joey after his set to chat about the birth of “Girls @,” and Pharrell William’s influence on his music.

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Brooklyn Beckham - Balance


I picked my skateboard up into my hands as I stopped at the huge gate that led to the Beckham palace, as I liked to call it. I typed the code in and the gate started to open slowly. I walked up the long ass driveway Brooklyn and I had skateboarded so many times on and then just walked into the house.

“Hello!” I shouted hoping the majority of the family heard it. I wasn’t even sure if Victoria and David were home. A few moments later I heard a pair of small feet running down the stairs and Harper showed up, her beautiful, long hair in two braids and her white dress flew around her as she spun around like a cloud. “Hey girl, what’s up?” I asked smiling down at her.

“Not much, Brooklyn told me to tell you that he just got out of the shower and will be here shortly,” she said sighing and put her hands to her hips looking like a real, mini diva. I couldn’t help but imagine Brooklyn in only a towel around his waist, water drops on his body… I had to shake my head to clear my thoughts out.

“Cool thanks for the message,” I smiled down at Harper and nodding her head she disappeared in a moment.

Brooklyn and I had known each other since forever. My mom was good friends with Victoria and they almost got pregnant at the same time, but Brooklyn was born eight days earlier than me. We basically grew up together, I spent millions of days with the Beckham family and they treated me as their own kid, but it was the same with Brooklyn and my family.

Today Brooklyn asked me to be the model for a few of his photos, he wanted to do some shots while skating, so it wasn’t anything special, just a usual day with him. He and his girlfriend broke up a few weeks earlier and I felt bad for him, because the girl dumped him for some ugly ass guy just because he was already eighteen and Brooklyn wasn’t.

I walked into the living room and lay down to the couch starting to find something interesting in the TV while I was waiting for him to be done. Ten minutes later he appeared in front of me, dressed in a white t-shirt and black jeans, smelling fresher than ever.

“I love that whenever you come over you make yourself comfy on the couch immediately,” he smiled running his fingers through his hair as I got up and fixed my shirt.

“Second home, remember?” I winked at him grabbing my board and heading to the door. I knew he was following me. “So where are we going?” I asked steeping out to the driveway.

“To the skate park we were at a few weeks ago.”

“Oh cool, okay,” I nodded.

Skateboarding was just a hobby for me, but I was good at it. Brooklyn and I got our first board the same day and since then, it was our little thing. We liked to do it together whenever we had the chance.

Arriving to the park I took a look at the boys that were doing tricks, I saw a few of them falling and as Brooklyn put his camera together I already planned out what tricks I would do.

“Okay, so just do whatever you want, I need some photos in action,” he explained looking up at me.

“Got it. Capture the faces of the boys, I want to see their reactions,” I chuckled to myself and Brooklyn grinned at me as well. Boys usually were surprised when they saw me doing tricks and stuff and I just loved seeing their faces. I climbed up to one of the ramps (or whatever they called, I have no idea) and got ready to start. When Brooklyn lifted the camera up to his face I jumped on the board and just did what came to my mind.

I could feel the eyes of the other guys on me, they were staring at me and I couldn’t hide my smile. I loved to shock people. Brooklyn kept taking photos of me and I was thinking if I looked good on them. I wanted to look good. For Brooklyn. Because lately I found myself thinking about what it would be like if we were more than just friends. I just didn’t know if he was thinking the same thing.

I was zigzagging between the people when I glanced over to Brooklyn and saw him talking with a beautiful girl, she leaned a bit in showing her cleavage to him and he obviously liked what he saw.

In a blink of an eye I lost my balance, the board slipped out from under me and I found myself on the floor, my right ankle and butt aching like hell. Two unknown guys and Brooklyn as well ran to me kneeling down next to me asking if I was okay.

“Yeah, it’s just my ankle,” I whimpered as I tried to move it but pain shot through my leg.

“Don’t move it, Y/N,” Brooklyn said and the next thing I knew that I was in his arms and he was carrying me to one of the benches. He put me down and kneeled down in front of me taking a better look at my ankle. “Okay, it doesn’t look that bad, I think you should just rest it a bit,” he said gently massaging it and smiling up at me.

“I guess the shooting is over,” I smiled sadly and I couldn’t erase the view of him with that girl, who disappeared by then.

“I’m more concerned about your pretty little leg than the photos,” he chuckled helping me to get up. He packed his things and then picking my board up he put my arm around his shoulders so he could help me walk home.

“What happened? You never lose balance,” he asked as we were on our way back to their house. I cleared my throat not knowing if I should tell him the truth or make up a lie.

“Uh, I just… I just lost focus,” I mumbled avoiding to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Brooklyn, can’t we just ditch this? I fucked up, that’s it,” I sighed really not wanting to talk about it. I didn’t just fall like a loser, I did it because I got distracted and jealous.

“Was it because you saw me with that girl?” he suddenly asked making my eyes go wide.

“Uh, what?” I asked feeling more awkward than ever. How did he know? Was it written to my forehead?

“Don’t worry, I felt the same way,” he said and I stopped finally looking at him.

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” I asked in confusion.

“Seeing all those guys staring at you and talking about you… I couldn’t stand it, and I regretted taking you there the minute we arrived. Did you feel the same about the girl?” he asked as if it was the most casual question in the world, but our friendship just was about to change forever with this conversation, yet he looked calmer than ever. How did he do it?

“Well, uh, yeah, that’s kind of why I-“ I started, but I couldn’t finish, because in the next moment Brooklyn pressed his lips to mine and kissed me. I was so surprised I completely froze and didn’t do anything. I had been fantasizing about it for a long time, but I absolutely blacked out as it really happened.

Because I didn’t do anything Brooklyn pulled away and when I saw the scared expression on his face I finally snapped back to reality.

“I’m so sorry, I thought that yo-“ Now I was the one to make him shut up. Grabbing his neck I pulled him to me and crashed my lips to his. He didn’t hesitate to kiss me back, his arms found their way around my waist and he lifted me up from the ground without ending the kiss.

I have no idea how long we stood there kissing, but when we finally pulled away the first thing he said was this:

“You fucking scared me, I thought you would slap me,” he chuckled shaking his head. I grinned at him putting my hands to his neck looking up into his eyes.

“You just surprised me.”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“It’s okay. You can do this anytime you want,” I giggled leaning closer to his face and gently kissed his lips again.

Touch: Part One


Tony stark was the only relative bold enough to take you in, leaving you no option but to up and move to the infamous avengers compound facility. You were no more than waitress, surrounded by the likeness of enhanced humans and super soldiers - making you the outcast of the living quarters. Within just your first couple of weeks, you strike a sense of emotional attachment to none other than the man you had heard about in the media - the winter soldier. In a moment of weakness and yet a moment of clarity, you find yourself awakening to something you had never felt before - the moment you lips had touched Bucky Barnes.

Bucky x Reader

Notes: Fluff, Bit of banter and tension. if this gets to 200, I will post a part two - let me know what you think, Im genuinely excited about this one!

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4 am thoughts on 'fake witches'

So. Earlier yesterday I woke up to this dumb post on real and fake witches (I’ll link to it later) that contradicted itself a million times but I had something to say on the issue because we are moving into a zeitgeist where it is heavily becoming a new fad.

As most of you know I live in the NYC/NJ area and I’m unfortunately very close to the second most obnoxious hipster capital of the country- Williamsburg, Brooklyn and the shit you see there in general makes your skin crawl. Like hipsters have this desperate desire to search for any aesthetic they believe will make them seem like an interesting, ‘authentic’ person with depth but it’s always for show and like it’s just in their nature. Many of their attentions have now focused on witchcraft and now you have some foul bullshit emerging like the avocado dominatrix coven that shows up in shitty hipster art gallery shows to perform 'rituals’ chanting nonsense they made up that sounds 'tribal’ to their sheltered ears for the Aesthetic™ and rubbing ripe avocados all over their body and calling it witchcraft. What was the intention of the ritual? Who knows. It’s just witchcraft because it’s the performance. It’s the spectacle of it. No there’s no real intention or magic behind it, It’s just the image they want. It’s irritating. But you know what?? It changes nothing for witches who care or pre-witches whom are genuinely interested or any 'real’ witch. Yeah it’s irritating cause now instead of maybe getting fearful or confused reactions if someone finds out you’re a witch there’s a higher chance of people thinking you’re lame for being on some bullshit fad but that just gives us yet one other reason to remain secretive. And yes it’s annoying to have people appropriate a practice for their self image with no real desire to be committed to it unless if it’s to writhe in avocados with clip on dreadlocks in an art gallery but like I’ve dealt with appropriation from all angles, I find it far more infuriating when some ignorant white idiot thinks I’m on a Kylie Jenner fad cause my lips are naturally full and my hair is in a protective style and they fail to see that I’m black and no amount of brown foundation Kylie puts on won’t stop her from wrinkling at 30 but I’m digressing.

Anyway what that post I’m referring to fails to realize is the real effects of commodification and how that might change people’s perspective but it does not effect the practice over all. The fact that there are a lot of books out now, witchy aesthetic Craft-like clothing out in stores and crystals everywhere kind of benefits the culture tbh and like even if a book is dumb like Raven Silverwart’s shit then the witch community will bash it and people will know to avoid it. People that dress like the craft are not harming the culture cause they don’t identify as witches, they just like the style. (Even if they do identify as witches, as long as they are genuinely interested and committed then yes, they are witches). People that have an interest in the craft and buy whatever books are store is selling do not harm witchcraft. They are just trying to research and learn what they can. F21 fantasy styled rings are not harming witchcraft they actually look cute as fuck when you show up to a function and everybody asking where you got your shit from and it’s like who knew a huge mainstream store would carry stuff you’re actually interested in buying? But anyway-

commodification has it’s ups and downs but it’s really not commodification that’s harming witchcraft at all it’s the appropriation of the practice (and actually that’s not harming either it’s just a nuisance). Witchcraft has been commodified since like the 90s, the interest just comes and goes in waves, but it’s not a big deal and, No, you don’t have to learn some ancient practice from your grandma to be valid or learn some bullshit online to get some bullshit witch certificate to be valid, witchcraft comes from the witch themselves and their genuine connection and interest to the craft. It’s very easy in my opinion to differentiate between a 'real’ and 'fake’ witch even in scenarios where they are side by side. There are people that don’t identify as a witch (maybe not yet) but have a strong magical presence and genuine interest in it and you could sense would be good at it. Examples would be like when my niece came over, she had an intense fascination with herbs and really loved nature and things that are magical and I accidentally peeped her journal but she has like fantasy BOS pages and I feel like once she gets the opportunity she will explore it for real and find herself in it but the genuine interest and connection is there. An example of someone who does not have a genuine connection would be when I went to a witch flea market in Brooklyn and there was this vendor who had a bunch of different oracle cards and it was the first time I saw the Lenormand deck and I asked her about it and she had like. No idea what she was talking about. Like she had the type of tone of someone who is lying cause they weren’t confident in what they were saying and sometimes their voice would falter or they would firmly switch up the meaning of their sentences to make it seem more legit. If I knew what I know about Lenormand now I would have called her out lol but I could sense her dishonesty. What really sealed the deal was when I met a new friend that night she noticed that woman too cause that woman was burning a decorated candle painted for La Santa Muerte and my friend is Mexican and was irritated that someone non Latina and not a Santeria practitioner would do that so she went to ask her about it and this woman proceeds to say how you can just pick them up at any lil’ ol bodega in a latin neighborhood and they are nice for protection and smell good and was like whitesplaining it to my friend and the point I’m getting here is how she was using a practice and culture for the aesthetic but with no real genuine interest or connection to it. Like why have out old oracle cards or a Lenormand deck if you can’t explain it or have no idea how it’s used? If I had old sets of cards I would love to play around with them or research them so at least I was familiar. But she had no familiarity with her own tools, like she had it out, clearly cause they were vintage and mysterious; the two things hipsters deeply value. Then why the hell are you burning a candle with prayers on it to a saint you don’t worship and don’t even know what it’s for or how it’s used? Clearly because to her it was 'exotic’ and mysterious. Another combination hipsters love.

But anyway tl;dr commodification isn’t the biggest problem ever and appropriation is irritating, but we’ll live. But if you’re concerned about who is a real or fake witch the answer just lies in genuine connection. Do they practice magic (and not just for a public display for an aesthetic?) are the tools they are using something they have a connection with and not showing it off cause it’s ~mysterious~ and 'exotic’, are they just genuinely interested and dedicate some time to learning about it whether it’s reading witches experiences online or reading books in a bookstore or do they just say they are a witch to create some mysterious persona based on an aesthetic but actually never practice magic or witchcraft ever and have no interest in it.
Like I dunno maybe I’m good at reading people so it’s not a challenge to find out who has some real interest or connection to magic in them and being in a city you meet annoying people everywhere so it’s just another group of people to swerve. That’s it.

A Letter to those who visit my country.

I have only one rule when you come with me to Haiti: leave all your guilt at the door. Don’t reach out of car windows handing street kids coins. Don’t take pictures of dirty kids to serve a higher purpose of making you “appreciate what it is that you have”. Haiti isn’t about you. I bring people to Haiti so they can learn about Haiti, not themselves– for how can one evolve only through a selfish gaze. This isn’t Eat Pray Love.

The problem with going to a place that you’ve already heard everything about is that you come with a preconceived notion– the idea that you must feel something, must experience some thing. What most people don’t realize is that feeling has already been concocted for you. Stories and movies of Haitian slums have already set your expectations. First world narratives of poverty have already eaten away at your soul leaving it so that you already feel guilt if you are not moved. That’s not what Haiti is about. The people who sold you that story feed on your belief of it so they can continue to vulture off a corrupt government and a never ending contribution of guilt money that never needs to be reported back; so people never have to know the names of Haitian kids or what exactly is they do all day.

So my rule is never ever ever sit in my country and treat my people like comparisons.  If you go to Haiti and tweet about a neighborhood based on its crime stats, take pictures with children that made you cry or made you feel “ashamed” about your privilege you’ve done nothing but make it about you. If you go and you write more brand names and talk more about organizations contributions than actual people: you’ve done nothing. People already KNOW Haiti is poor. It’s this shitty little thing where by reaffirming that narrative you remind them that black people are poor and dirty like they already believed and believe about blacks everywhere. That’s the something you’re feeling.

The country doesn’t need pity it needs economy. It needs you to tell people what you ate, what you drank, the jokes the kids told you, the fact that they love Rihanna and Drake. The fact that they think Supreme stuff is fire and make their own memes on Facebook at the Internet cafés and on their old model iPhones. That they too love J’s thought they may not have them. They ARE human. They need a shared experience, not more congratulations for the corporations that send them pity gifts but won’t walk their streets and will still speak of them through racist stereotypes so they can build their charity portfolio.

They need you to name the names of the beaches where you post your selfies and explain how beaches in Haiti are for white tourists because DUH we all live by the water on an island and tanning is not a hobby in a black ass country. They need you to tell the stories of the street vendors that sold you beer and fritaille and how the beer is still brewed in the homeland. They need people to know that 90% of the world exports can be grown on Haitian soil because its that fertile but we import everything because the government has abandoned its own people. They need the world to stop thinking of them as a place where they’re so broke they’ll kidnap you- because LOL at the idea of an American being kidnapped in Haiti. (Literally Haitians laugh at this notion.)

They don’t need to be markers for your personal evolution or your sadness or your gratefulness at having resources. They don’t need to be trotted out for pity so you can come back and throw a festival in their name. They need you to tell Young Thug and Future to come to Haiti because they love seeing them rep in their songs; that they are very much tuned into the “first world” but you do none of this.

You clap for yourselves as Americans and express shock that they are humans with a sense of community. You visit only Cite D’Soleil a slum so dangerous every single article in Haiti ever has mentioned it or interviewed someone there. A slum so “nefarious” it has its own movie—real nuance!. You rehash the narrative of oppressors rather than letting Haiti teach you how to laugh, how to cook fish, how to be a hedonist, how to drink rum, how to dance kompa, how to play dominoes, how to roast niggas in the dark while chopping down a 14ft stalk of sugar cane with a machete under the moon. How every Haitian that comes back from “an deyó” returns with nothing less than 4 suitcases of provisions. How grandmothers in Brooklyn stuff 200lbs of food, clothes, water etc and smuggle them home to drop off at Delmas, or Petionville or even an “affluent” hood like Vivi-Michel directly because they know the Red Cross and the UN aren’t going to real homes.

You spend your nights talking to white people who steal from us rather than night riding in the ghost towns covered in colorful and faded hand-painted ads around Champs Mars and visiting the fish markets at 5am for the freshest catches and the funniest arguments–swerving through the traffic of mothers trying to get kids to school and get to work. You came back with nothing and you gave nothing and if your response is “I did all these things!” than why doesn’t it show? Next time you go to my country step off the pedestal of first world pity and feel the red soil in your toes. Learn the names and stories and then tell them with no additives. Tell them not to make people cry but to remind motherfuckers that this world is big, diverse and it’s beautiful and Haiti is the most beautiful place in the world. That black kids are people, poor or rich.

They’ll say im subbing you but I didn’t mention names because it isn’t one person and again it’s not about YOU. It’s everyone who insults me by asking if I’ll be “safe” when I’m going to visit my FAMILY for two weeks. It’s every person who goes to DR but would never consider the land just across the river. For everyone who goes to Africa, India, Brazil and does the same boohoo about being shocked that poor people are good to each other. It’s about real culture not the culture you retweet but the kind that makes people say PLEASAE TAKE ME WITH YOU rather than “I just donated.” Its about real connection and humanity not a pity narrative or a moral workout session for those who have over the havenots.

I don’t go to Haiti to feel better about being an American. I go to Haiti to be a better Haitian; to show real love. All I ask is that you all do the same. Be better and do better. I’m willing to take anyone anytime. My family begs that I bring friends with every trip because my uncle says they don’t really know us, they only know the white people’s view. I’m happy to show you the real way because it’s not a vacation destination to me: it’s home. Don’t ever do that to my heart again.

Stubborn Love: Part 2 (Steve x Bucky x Reader)

Plot: What happens when fall in love with two different people, for different reasons, but they just so happen to be each other’s best friend?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 934
Warnings: None

Part 1

Originally posted by chrisnolanfilms

Sure enough, the next day, Steve texts you and asks you out for coffee. You meet him at a local shop down the street from your office and take the time to get to know each other. It’s a quiet atmosphere, but is definitely nice and a good place to talk.

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Keep yo Clair, I'm here for Cookie!!!

Y’all knew I was gonna talk about Cookie right?

Clair Huxtable ranks at the top of almost every list of television mothers and was even voted Televisions Favorite Mom in 2004. HBCU-educated (but didn’t pledge a sorority…really?), beautiful, bilingual, and Black, Clair was the palatable equal to her on screen doctor husband Cliff (Imma leave Bill Cosby alone right now, this aint about him). Hair always perfectly straightened, bumped, and in place, she made partner at a law firm while raising five kids of her own and a host of grandkids and neighbors. Clair was a supermom always outsmarting her hubby, encouraging her children to succeed in academic endeavors, and reading her in-laws when necessary. She was mainstream’s introduction to the “upward mobility” Blacks and a Black mom-lite course for some. Everyone (who had a TV set…) could access a piece of their mothers in Clair, almost blinding her to the fact that she was – indeed – a Black momma! But how accessible was the unconditional love Clair gave as a Black mom? How many Black kids can see her? Sure, if I’m as ‘classically’ beautiful as Sondra, as smart as Vanessa, as EVERYTHING as Denise (yas she was my favorite and I still think her character was gay), or the baby of the family like Rudy, I could wrap my mind around having an infallible Black momma who never cries, whips my behind, or shows up at my school with her hair wrapped ready to fight the principle….

But I’m not that kid.

Who ranks at the top of my television mom list? Cookie Lyon! We meet Cookie on the day she is released from prison after serving 17 years for dealing dope – the very crime that funded her ex-husband’s rise to Hip Hop royalty. Unlike Clair, Cookie isn’t hiding behind any Black respectability politics. She won’t be checked by anyone and has one goal – to take what’s hers! Cookie is clear from episode one, she wants her damn respect and she did what she did to position her children for success in an unjust world that she knew too well would not be fair to them – especially her middle son Jamal who is gay. Even more? She’s down for sisterhood! Not the “upward mobility” sisterhood, nah…the sista-hood of walking into a board meeting full of executives and suits and saying “hey sistah girl” to the only other woman in the room. The sista-hood of givin Porsha’s ass a job as an assistant, even if she ain’t qualified (cause you know she’s not). The sista-hood of pointing out the brilliance of Black women to her son Andre who claims he married a White woman because she’s ‘brilliant’.

But here’s some things about Cookie you might not have picked up on:

  1. She plays the piano…like a legit piano! Who taught a dope dealin black girl to play piano? The ancestors, that’s who!
  2. She knows her musical business! What’s an A&R? Shit I don’t know!
  3. She loves her children, unwaveringly!
  4. She walks in heels like they’re sneakers (for real tho! 6 inches and she’s kicking cars and strollin)
  5. She’s pro-LGBT/Queer…but shit what Black ‘make it work’ momma aint? (I will have none of your ‘black people are more homophobic’ here, thank you)
  6. She is a mental health warrior…17 years in prison and a lifetime of Black pain and she’s still a baddie!
  7. She loves the lord and you WILL say grace before shoving food in your mouth!
  8. She’s a Black feminist! How else do you explain her not whoopin Boo Boo Kitty’s ass by now?

She liked Lucious better when he was a thug because he lived and told his truth then and didn’t cower behind the false “bootstrap” model of America. Cookie doesn’t hold her truth from anyone. She’s not positioning herself as her ex-husbands equal a la Clair, she’s proving to him that she is smarter, flyer, and well…better!

But above all Cookie tops my list because of #5. Sure Clair it’s easy to motivate “American sweetheart” children who blend well into White heteronormative society, but Cookie is a divorced felon (google prison industrial complex before you come for Cookie and her alternative economic success) raising a wanksta, a queen, and a son with Bipolar I. Her kids know her sacrifices for them, and if they don’t she wont hesitate to remind them (just ask Hakeem and that broom beatdown). Her acceptance of Jamal is a Black momma’s love that I can relate to as a kid that’s fucked with blending in my entire life. She doesn’t have your historically white or black institution of higher education words for her son, but she knows that he’s “different” and always has been. She will fight the love of her life to allow him to play in her pink kitten heels and for him to have a hit record. Cookie comfortably lays on the bed where Jamal and ‘Dora’ just smashed and doesn’t bat an eye at walking in on them together. She pushes him to live his truth and celebrate who he is, not just because as a broke Black woman she knows how pointless it is to hide who you are to try to blend, but also because she knows the “gay” script and how many “white kids in Brooklyn and San Francisco” will buy it allowing him to financially support himself. She invites Michael – Jamal’s boyfriend – to the family dinner that Lucious leaves him out of and dares Lucious to buck! Cookie sees his talent and won’t allow him to hide it. She lives for her kids and fights for Jamal at every turn. And he knows it.

Jamal knows that even as a gay man he is more of a man than his punk ass daddy and that his mother is a warrior for him. I’m that kid and Cookie is the mother that I need, want, and have. Okay so Sharon (my momma) isn’t a felon by your standards, but I promise you she’s one collect call away. All Black mommas are – mess with their babies if you want to! *Cues Dej Loaf’s Try Me*

Cookie is the mother for the Black misfit toys – the fat girls who’s mothers made sure their hair and ‘fits were slaying the skinny girls so they wouldn’t get picked on; the sissies who got chased to the school bus by basketball players (who probably wanted to fuck) and their mommas made them fight; the tomboi’s who’s mothers asked them to try dressin like a girl, just for the first day of school; the girls on the boulevard who could jump double dutch because their mommas taught them at night in the park when nobody else was around to see them mess up; the bookworm who’s momma brought home books that she would never read, but knew there was something in there “smart people knew” so her baby would know it too; the food stamp kids who’s mommas walked six blocks and caught two busses to get to the “good neighborhood” to buy fresh fruit for…. That’s the mother that tops my list and Cookie is serving you that and more.

Step yo Cookies up Clair, your Brooklyn Heights silence will not protect you. But then again, the streets ain’t made for everybody, that’s why they made sidewalks! 

Part One: Manhattan

One of my biggest pet peeves is seeing people play fashionistas and characters from Manhattan wrong. I find that it’s often glamorized into some kind of dream world - and it’s really not! There are loads of negatives of living in Manhattan, and there are a lot of misconceptions I often see when rpers play characters from Manhattan. I know that there are some other guides around, but I figured I’d make one from a fashion student’s point of view - so I hope you guys enjoy! This is Part One of a Two Parted Series - the second part will deal specifically with Fashion Design. Credit to renrps for the lovely graphic! 

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Ficlet series: outtakes from before I fell down the rabbit hole and wrote an epic. (This is how I write epics, btw, I open a document and start writing things that amuse me until I suddenly get sucked into A PIT OF FEELS and that’s where the plot comes from.)

Bucky Barnes makes hilarious, sometimes-serious videos as part of his recovery. 

Part One

Part Two

Part Three: 

The text appeared, bright yellow, on a blank black screen. Bucky Barnes’ Children’s Funtime Corner.

The Benny Hill theme started playing over a montage of images. Steve ran by, in workout gear, obviously just jogging for fitness, and suddenly Bucky dropped from above the frame, wrapped his thighs around his neck, and took him to the floor. “Ow,” Steve said, off-camera, weakly. 

Sam came down a hallway in his underpants (exceedingly flattering boxer briefs), looking morning-sleepy and half-conscious (and fucking glorious), shuffling stiffly and yawning. Bucky jumped out at him and Sam screamed and reflexively punched Bucky so hard they both fell over. 

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A Conversation With Tyler Mitchell

On a warm February Saturday, I took the bus into the city.  Seeing it would be a couple hours until I met up with Tyler:  I grabbed a slice of pizza, bought a few fashion magazines, and dropped off my film.  I immediately realized I had forgotten to bring my third role of film with me.  And while I was planning to shoot Tyler, at that point it seemed unlikely.  I began rushing around Union Square, running into a random CVS and a couple Walgreens along the way.  

When I got his text that he could meet up for coffee, I quickly walked from Union Square to Soho as a way to save money.  I met Tyler at Saturday Surf NYC where he was chatting with Jonah Levine.  As I sat down, Tyler introduced me to Jonah and shortly after, he left.  Tyler and I chatted for a little before I turned on the iPhone recording app and we started the interview.  Luckily, later on he was able to lend me a roll of film.

Tyler Mitchell is not only one of the most talented photographers I know, he is also one of the most genuine.  After spending the afternoon with him, having him show me his favorite art book store, Dashwood Books, and giving me a small heart attack after casually mentioning hanging out with Amandla Stenberg, it was clear that art meant a little more to him than fame.  He even snuck in some low-key useful life advice for the rest of us, “Sometimes meeting your idols is dangerous.  I used to really wanted to be apart of an artist’s circle for so long and once I got to know them, I didn’t want it as much.  You know, it’s always refreshing to do your own thing.”

While Dazed 100 has given him a huge amount of recognition, it is only the start for him.  With a few secret projects coming soon and a book already out, he is definitely an artist to watch in 2016.

We talked about everything from high school to Dazed 100, check it out.

Has art always been a part of your life?

Yeah, basically.  Since day one?  I don’t know.  But, you can’t really avoid wanting to produce stuff for other people, if you think the way I do.  That’s what I realized when I was talking to my friend the other day, he is an artist, too.  And we were saying how in this world, we aren’t consumers.  The way we think is always driven to produce and create.  So I guess in that way, art has always been a part of my life.  That’s probably the best way I can give it to you.

When did you start photography?

I started, actually, when I was fourteen.  But seriously, a year ago.  I started when I was fourteen, just through skateboarding.  I really didn’t like the school I was going to in Atlanta.  And I didn’t like what the group of people were doing.  If you are a black kid in my school, you are either an athlete or a nerd who dwells in the basement of this high school.  And I thought, ‘why can’t I pick a third option?’  So I started skateboarding and taught myself skating on youtube and my computer.  I got really into skating, I made a group of friends.  We would all go to parks and we would build parks.  Then my friend got a DSLR and taught me.  He said, ‘Yo, you should learn.’  We would watch skate videos all the time and I thought, ‘wow, shit, someone can create really high quality videos with this little camera.’  

I really like those; My friend actually has one of those really big cameras.

Which one?

I forgot what it’s called.  It’s tape, it’s not digital.  But they look so cool and I wanted to get one.  So I looked it up and they are over a thousand dollars.  So I was like, ‘nah’, I can’t do this.

Yeah, they can get quite expensive but I just remember using my friends and wanting to take pictures.

So you go to NYU right?


And what are you studying?

Film.  Film and TV is my major but this semester I’m taking all photo classes.  It’s weird because I don’t know what I want to do right now.  I want to do film and photo and in my brain, they are the same thing but people always want to ask me what I like better.  You know when people give you that question, ‘What do you want to do? Or which do you want to be?’ , and they try to make you chose?  That is where people are with me right now.  And I just think they are kind of the same.

For me at least, I always like to imagine myself, in the future, writing, taking photos, making movies, well maybe not movies but short films with my friends.

And that’s why you have a magazine.  You want to cross platforms or cross mediums, I guess.

Yeah and I feel like there are so many people who are successful with doing that.  But people think of them as a single entity, instead of what the norm can be for people.

Because you end up becoming famous for one thing or you end up being known for one specific project.  So they immediately say to you, oh I really like that thing.  But you are like, ‘well thank you, but there are also all these other things that exist’.  And that happens to anyone because people want to categorize.

Did you meet Grace Miceli before the Art Baby show, The Daydreamers?

Yeah! I met her because- well first she followed me on Instagram which is how people meet now, I guess.  She did that and I didn’t really know anything about her or her circle.  And it’s weird because both of our circles are joining in a way.  I would say, I wasn’t really involved in what she was doing, but I respected it.  And someone from Oyster emailed me saying, ‘Grace specifically wanted to name you as one of the five artists that are doing something important on the internet’ and I was like yah of course.  That is when I wasn’t really doing much press at all and things were way more low-key.  And it was like Grace named you specifically, I thought that was so cool because I was in a list of four other girls and I was so down for that.  I was so excited about that because I wasn’t being categorized either as a male making art or someone involved in street style making art.  Grace was just like you are doing cool things.  So then I made sure to keep in touch with her.  We kept in touch and then started doing shows together.

Where were the photos from The Daydreamers show from?

So, those were all stills from a short film.  They were, I don’t know if you remember the two diptychs, but those were stills from the short film.  And then the one in the middle was just a photo I took of my friend, Sam, and the name of the short film was, ‘Wish This Was Real’, and it all came from me thinking about what I wanted to represent.  I was thinking about how originally I took a lot of portraits of people who were my friends.  And I wasn’t thinking much about what that could mean or how those people are an extension of myself as a photographer.  So, I was taking pictures of my friend Ellis, who you know, and my friend Nicki, and most of these people were girls who were white.  Not that that’s bad, but that’s where I started in portraiture.  And people started to align that image with me.  I was like wait a minute, I want to be a bit more autobiographical and talk about being a black man.  Kind of going back to that thing in high school, where you are either an athlete or a nerd, and I wanted to pick a third option.  With this, I wanted to make a third world of black men with color and water guns.  Which is how I photographed them.

What video was shown in the second Art Baby show?

It was the resulting film.  In Daydreamers, it was the screenshots from the film and I was working on the film the whole time.  And then [Grace] asked me if I wanted to do the video, and I thought, ‘perfect’.

That is so great, you got to show both forms.

Yeah and Grace was like I fully support what you are doing.  And it was weird because I always feel like I don’t fit.  I don’t even know if you can say this but I always felt like, ‘Wow, Grace why are you always calling on me’.  I don’t really fit in this weird way.  Everyone else’s video was very art-y, very home video, DIY, a voice over.  And mine was very hi-fi, color, sound, no voice over.  It was just different.  I’m just honored that she did that.  

Did you know about the Dazed 100 before it came out?

Yeah, they email everyone.  But the crazy thing was they emailed me and said they wanted to put me in it and I just didn’t think it was going to happen.  So I asked them when it was coming out and they didn’t tell me that.  I just woke up one morning and I thought, ‘holy shit, it’s out’.

I think, last time I checked you were number two.  That’s wild.

It’s crazy, I don’t know how it happened.

How was the Dazed 100 party?

Insane.  I mean, did you see anything about it?

I saw some of the photos and it looked like so much fun.

So basically, I was thinking- I honestly don’t know what I was thinking because I still can’t believe I’m on the list.  But then they told me about the party and I was like, ‘okay I’m gonna go out to Brooklyn and it’s gonna be this low-key thing,’ because it was during Fashion Week.  So I figured all these people would have way more important things to do.  But, everyone was at Dazed.

Yeah because it’s kind of a New York Fashion Week Party.

Yeah kinda.  It was just scary seeing Frank Ocean there.  Seeing Dev Hynes, who I look up to so much, I almost cried a little bit when I saw him.  I mean, you see all the people you look up to and you see all the people who influence you but also you were just having a good time with them.  It was in this big warehouse and Arca dj-ed and my friend started crying when he saw Arca.  He went up to him and gave him a hug.

Okay, so your book, you took those photos last summer?

Yeah, half a year ago.  I was in Cuba for a month and I went with my school.  And I didn’t really know what I was going to get up into.  But as soon as I got there I knew I had to shoot everyday.  NYC isn’t what my mind would create.  I would create a city much more colorful.  So when I got to Havana, I thought, ‘why is this exactly how my brain functions’.  I got there and I basically shot three things; I started photographing my friends wearing interesting colors so I would purely play with form.  I would photograph my friend wearing a nice colored shirt and we would go to a basketball court to had these arches and I would make sure to get the arches.  I was playing with composition.  Or I would just shoot the composition, I would look at the cars, the buildings, and how those interact and try to convey an emotion with them.  And then the third thing I started shooting were these skaters and that was kind of the last component.  Then I sort of lumped those all together, started playing with page arrangements, and was like I can make this into a book.  The skaters came last, I bet them the night before the first GoSkate Day in Cuba and that first GoSkate Day was kind of historic.  It was crazy to be there and see all of the events, meet all these kids who were donated skating equipment.  So I was able to photograph them in more of a documentary way and mix that with my super composed, colorful stuff.

That’s kind of interesting because you said the reason you got into photography was skateboarding and then you made a book that included skate photography.

It weirdly came full circle.  But I don’t think I could ever say to someone that I skate at this moment.  Because I just don’t do it everyday.  And it’s weird because I did do it everyday in Atlanta but as soon as I moved to NY, I let go of it.  I think that’s because NY is not my ideal city for skating.  It’s too much.  There are too many things pulling you in different directions.  And also, Atlanta was just a better place to skate for me.  I can’t put my finger on it but I was a skater then and I’m not a skater now.  But that full transition allowed me to shoot these skaters in Cuba in a much different way than I would of back then.

After you graduate from NYU, do you want to stay in NYC?

I don’t know.  It’s expensive first off, if I can afford to live here than maybe.  But then let’s assume that I can, I might want to be traveling other places.  I always go to LA and love it.  I basically go to any other place and like it more.  I always say that NY is a place with tons of doors but also tons of gates if that makes sense.  There are all these opportunities but then there are also all these gates that want to keep you out of people’s resources.  And as a photographer, you need to surround yourself with resources.  If you need to wake up and shoot someone in your house ,you can.  If you need to wake up in the morning and shoot someone in the ocean, you can.  A photographer needs to be surrounded with resources to fully let their mind work and I think NY has a lot of gates.

And how do you think the internet and social media has influenced your work?

Fully.  I mean, there is no avoiding it and people kind of know that and can see that by how I operate.  And I’m sure that’s true but the reason I create is not because of the internet, it’s because of emotion and human emotion.  But, I am influenced by all of that stuff.  But, I’m getting older, I’m 20, and I’m getting away from that.

Check Tyler out on Instagram @tylersphotos

Interview and Photos by Remi Riordan ( insta: @ghostgirlly )

Cote de Pablo: “I’m the American dream”

Simple and spontaneous , hard to believe that this 1.70 meters tall woman with thick eyebrows, deep black eyes and an infectious laugh is the most successful Chilean actress in Hollywood. A few days ago she was in our country to accompany the mexican Patricia Riggen, the director of the film The 33 (based on the dramatic experience of the miners of Atacama) to present exclusively to them the finished film, with Antonio Banderas and Juliette Binoche as protagonists, and in which María José de Pablo (35 ) will have the role of Jessica Vega , the wife of trapped miner Alex Vega (Mario Casas) , who took charge of organizing the camp Hope above ground. Cote also is the voice of the song “Gracias a la Vida” that accompanied the production; a tribute to Violeta Parra.

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