#Chicago Syndicate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thechanelmuse · 11 months

Photo

Jackie Ormes, the first Black American woman cartoonist

When the 14-year-old Black American boy Emmett Till was lynched in 1955, one cartoonist responded in a single-panel comic. It showed one Black girl telling another: "I don't want to seem touchy on the subject... but that new little white tea-kettle just whistled at me!"

It may not seem radical today, but penning such a political cartoon was a bold and brave statement for its time — especially for the artist who was behind it. This cartoon was drawn by Jackie Ormes, the first syndicated Black American woman cartoonist to be published in a newspaper. Ormes, who grew up in Pittsburgh, got her first break as cartoonist as a teenager. She started working for the Pittsburgh Courier as a sports reporter, then editor, then cartoonist who penned her first comic, Torchy Brown in Dixie to Harlem, in 1937. It followed a Mississippi teen who becomes a famous singer at the famed Harlem jazz club, The Cotton Club.

In 1942, Ormes moved to Chicago, where she drew her most popular cartoon, Patty-Jo 'n' Ginger, which followed two sisters who made sharp political commentary on Black American life.

In 1947, Ormes created the Patty-Jo doll, the first Black doll that wasn't a mammy doll or a Topsy-Turvy doll. In production for a decade, it was a role model for young black girls. "The doll was a fashionable, beautiful character," says Daniel Schulman, who curated one of the dolls into a recent Chicago exhibition. "It had an extraordinary presence and power — they're collected today and have important place in American doll-making in the U.S."

In 1950, Ormes drew her final strip, Torchy in Heartbeats, which followed an independent, stylish black woman on the quest for love — who commented on racism in the South. "Torchy was adventurous, we never saw that with an Black American female figure," says Beauchamp-Byrd. "And remember, this is the 1950s." Ormes was the first to portray black women as intellectual and socially-aware in a time when they were depicted in a derogatory way.

One common mistake that erased Ormes from history is mis-crediting Barbara Brandon-Croft as the first nationally syndicated Black American female cartoonist. "I'm just the first mainstream cartoonist, I'm not the first at all," says Brandon-Croft, who published her cartoons in the Detroit Free Press in the 1990s. "So much of Black history has been ignored, it's a reminder that Black history shouldn't just be celebrated in February."

Source

#jackie ormes #black american history #black history #black cartoonist #black comics #comics #barbara brandon croft #barbara brandon #black artists

2K notes · View notes

gaeulssims · 3 months

Text

Day 3: 70s/Soul train

Soul Train, one of the longest-running syndicated shows in television history, began in 1970 on the Chicago television station WCIU-TV when there were few outlets for popular Black culture throughout the United States. It was a radical move for the time, exhibiting the cultural perspectives of African American music, dance, and fashion clothing on television. Soul Train allowed the world to view African Americans’ many faces and elements and their unique experiences in American society. Each episode of Soul Train would be closed with founder Don Cornelius reciting the words, “Love, peace, and soul!” Link

#ts4 simblr #ts4 #the sims 4 #BHMCAS #sims 4 cas #ts4 cas #create a sim #CAS #Gaeuls.LB

125 notes · View notes

ozu-teapot · 1 year

Photo

Chicago Syndicate | Fred F. Sears | 1955

Dennis O'Keefe, Allison Hayes, Paul Stewart, Abbe Lane

#Dennis O'Keefe #Allison Hayes #Paul Stewart #Abbe Lane #Fred F. Sears #Chicago Syndicate #1955 #Noirvember

36 notes · View notes

spockvarietyhour · 5 months

Text

the structure of Chicago Syndicate is so 50s scifi B it's nearly jarring.

#The presentation of it. the narrator. I'm expecting saucers to show up.#Danny watches Chicago Syndicate

1 note · View note

petervintonjr · 2 months

Text

"As black America approaches the 21st century, our capacity or our failure to build a solid bridge . . . of works will determine whether millions of young blacks already with us or yet unborn will cross over into the new century, or fall into the abyss."

Another name you almost certainly didn't know: M. (Moses) Carl Holman, civil rights activist, writer, and poet. Born in 1919 St. Louis, Holman showed an early gift for writing, and at the age of 19 won a scriptwriting award from a popular syndicated radio program. He graduated magna cum laude from Lincoln University and went on to acquire Master's degrees from the University of Chicago and from Yale. While at Yale he published his first collection of poems, and began regularly writing articles for various newspapers and magazines on income inequity, urban poverty, literacy, and other issues important to Black Americans. In 1962 he taught English at Clark College in Atlanta, giving him a front-row seat to key events in the earliest days of the civil rights movement. As some of his students participated in sit-ins and the Freedom Rides, he found himself appointed to the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, of which he eventually became deputy director in 1966.

In 1968 Ebony magazine named Holman as one of the 100 Most Influential Black Americans. That same year Holman published what is probably his best-known work: The Baptizin', a play which won first prize in the National Community Theater Festival. In addition to multiple collections of poems, Holman also published a definitive overview of the civil rights movement in the U.S., from 1965 to 1975.

Perhaps most significantly, in 1971 Holman was named Vice President of the National Urban Coalition. This organization had re-formed in 1967 in the wake of the so-called "long, hot summer" of racial strife and injustices. During this time Holman's singular talent for delivering quiet and polite, but still powerful, speeches came to the fore and he jumpstarted a great many local housing, education, job training, and economic development programs aimed at disadvantaged Black and Hispanic communities.

In his later years Holman forcefully addressed the issue of "dual literacy" for Black children --emphasizing that such students not only needed to be well-versed not only in the fundamentals such as reading, writing, and public speaking; but also in math, science, and technology. His 1988 obituary notes that Holman "had an uncanny ability to form a coalition out of the most diverse elements, and it was often said that the key to his ability to do this was the fact that he never appeared to have an agenda for himself."

(Teachers: Need some resources to engage your students this Black History Month? I'll send you a pile of these trading cards, no cost, no obligation. Just give me a mailing address and let me know how many students in your class. No strings attached, no censorship, no secret-relaying-of-names to Abbott or DeSantis or HuckaSanders.)

#blm #black lives matter #m carl holman #black history month #black excellence #national urban league #teachtruth #dothework #showup

117 notes · View notes

strangersatellites · 4 months

Text

trouble’s always gonna find you, baby (but so am i) 🔗

for the @steddiebang

art from @becomingfoxes and art @amethyst-crowns

with bonus art from @jellyfish-confetti and ames

explicit | 88k words | complete

Steve Harrington has spent the better part of the last five years knocking out hit after hit for the Assassin's Guild and becoming one of the most lethal agents in the business. After a series of unprecedented, wildly successful cases across the country, his boss pulls him off the active case roster for eight months. He's been keeping tabs on the Chicago Syndicate for years and has finally deemed Steve ready to take out their leader, The Sandman.

The only problem is that undercover agents have been able to turn up little to no information regarding The Sandman's identity. The only information the Guild has been able to dredge up is the name of one of their business fronts: a sophisticated private nightclub called Hellfire, and the name of its director, Syndicate member Eddie Munson.

or: Eddie is a low ranking member of the mafia and Steve is the assassin hired to kill his boss.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fandom #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gin writes #fic tag: TROUBLE #as ames would say #my magnum opus #eighty eight thousand words of mafia x assassin’s guild #plus my blood sweat and tears #but that’s neither here nor there

70 notes · View notes

nostalgiacauseitstrendy · 8 months

Text

Unexpected Delivery- Kabal x F!Reader

So I had an idea of a reader who gets unexpectedly pregnant by Kabal and potential interactions the reader might have with other kombatants as a result of them finding out they're pregnant.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, bodily functions, abortion thoughts.

Background:

Y/n is a kombatant, morally grey. Grew up in the south side of Chicago, living vagrantly and poor. Pick your own skills/abilities. Y/n is sometimes on the side of good, sometimes not. Y/n interacts with the Black Dragon faction every now and then for quick missions for quick pay, although she is not a dedicated member (merc; she doesn't like killing unnecessarily). Y/n and Kabal have been dating and getting busy for the past 10 months (and its poorly kept secret, everyone knows). Also (b/c this is my story, fight me) you are really close to Mileena. Y/n realizes Mileena is just misunderstood and just wants to be accepted and loved :) (this is relevant later).

Story:

"Fuck, fuck!" y/n paced in her bathroom what seemed like an eternity before shakily picking up the third and final pregnancy test off the side of their bathtub.

The two lines flipped Y/n's denial back on its head. Y/n was pregnant, and she had suspected so for a couple of weeks. Frequent urination, body aches, sore nips- all the alarms went off for Y/n, but those parallel pink lines struck like a ton of bricks. Was it worth telling Kabal? Should she just terminate? How far along was she? Y/n had to lean against the sink as these thoughts made her woozy.

Y/n unlocked her phone and began to type a long message to the speedster, but selected it all and deleted it. Y/n was lost in infinite possibilities. She would have to stop doing runs for the Black Dragon. What about Kabal? Y/n did not want their child to be exposed to any of the criminal syndicate, especially...Kano.

The words though, their child rung in Y/n's head, immediately spurring a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. She imagined Kabal with a goofy grin, speeding around with their child. She knew from the few times he's spoke on it, he values family and wants a big family of his own. She imagined their little family watching nerdy movies like Star Wars or Ninja Mime...

Y/n swattted at the air as to physically dismiss her thoughts. She had a mission today and that came first. She decided if she was going to tell Kabal, it would be after she completed this mission.

...

Y/n had to pick up some packages for the Black Dragon. Minus an excessive amount of stealth, this should have been a straight-forward and easy mission. All Y/n had to do was bust open the back of the truck and steal the two smallest boxes. Y/n drew a ragged breath before engaging. Looking through the poorly lit truck, she found the two smallest boxes surrounded by piles of larger boxes keeping those two in place. What are in the boxes? Who knows, Y/n does not ask, as she likes to keep some emotional investment apart from her despicable position. She does this for money, not for shits and giggles.

Reminiscing on her days homeless on the streets of Chicago, Y/n quickly moved the larger boxes before snatching the two and taking off. Despite her speedy pace, Y/n was not as fast as she normally would be, knowing damn well why. This cost her, however, as gunfire began to ring out. Y/n dashed off as fast as she could, but took a bullet near her lower abdomen. Y/n screeched in pain, but also fear- what about her baby?

Y/n gritted her teeth and kept running as fast she could, bleeding out in the process. Y/n reached the Black Dragon compound after 10 minutes of running. As she pushed the doors open, she drew a ragged breath, and the floor began to speed towards her. Everything went black.

...

Y/n groaned and winced, perceiving the bright lights of the infirmary through her eyelids. Realization hit Y/n like a ton of bricks, however, and she sat quickly and violently upright. Y/n let out a grunt before taking in her surroundings. As she quickly surveyed the room, her eyes met with a mask all too familiar. In a millisecond he was at her bedside, speaking 100 miles per hour. All Y/n could make out is "what the fuck happened?" "I'll never let you go on a mission alone again." "Those fuckers are going to pay..." Y/n drowned out Kabal's stammering once she saw a medic.

Staring at y/n, y/n asked the head medic, in merely a whimper, "how is my baby?" Dumbfounded, but lightly amused, Kabal said "I'm fine but what the hell happened to you? Are you okay?" Y/n would have laughed had not the situation been dire.

"The bullet just barely missed the babies. We ran some tests, from we can tell, the babies are healthy for three months." Holy shit, three months? BABIES? PLURAL?

Although he had a mask on, you knew Kabal was blank. For what felt like years, he did not say a word. Then, merely a pained whisper, Kabal asked, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I planned to tell you right after my mission. I legitimately found out this morning. I was still processing it myself."

Kabal sat quietly, before walking away. "Kabal, wai-," he was already gone. Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. Was he just going to throw everything away? Just leave just like that? All the crying and the morphine began to takeover, and Y/n began to unwillingly drift off.

When she awoke, she was at her apartment, in her bed. Pacing in the living room, was the speedster. As rare as it could be, he was unmasked and in a plain white tee and black sweatpants. Besides intimate moments, Y/n did not see this casual side often. Kabal was known to be ashamed of his disfigurement. To Y/n, however, the burns meant nothing at all. You loved that man with every fiber of your being.

Kabal heard the sheets slightly ruffle and looked to see Y/n awake and dashed over. Staring down for a moment, is soft brown eyes met yours, vulnerability painted over them. "The doctor said its twins, said we'd know the gender in two more months." Kabal saying "we" was a relief, calming your heart rate and the warmth running up your throat. Y/n swallowed back the potential nervous vomit before stating, "I thought you were going to leave me."

Kabal flinched slightly, as though you'd physically punched him. "Why would I ever do that? Y/n...although sooner than expected, this is always wanted. A peaceful life, loving kids, loving wife..if you are offering me that, I would never pass it up."

Y/n was about to reply before you stopped. Wife? You involuntarily smiled and blushed at the idea before verbalizing that exact question, "Wife?"

Kabal smiled before getting up and speeding around to your side of the bed, digging in his pocket.

"I know I am bottom-feeder, a nobody." His brows furrowed for a moment, but then his face softened. "But you make me feel like I am somebody, Y/n. I forget the monster I see in the mirror every morning. You love me like no one has ever loved me, Y/n. There is nothing I want more to spend the rest of my life with you and this family we're making. Will you marry me, Y/n?" The beautiful black and diamond ring sparkled brightly.

Of course you said yes.

Interactions:

Kano: "Don't think just cause Kabal knocked ya up I am givin either of ya a break."

Y/N: "Wouldn't expect anything less, cue ball."

Kano: "Just for that, I am goin to make sure ya suffer."

Kano: "I gotta ask, is Kabal too fast in bed?"

Y/n: "Drop it."

Kano: "Ill take that as a yes."

Kano: "Don't think I am giving you paternity leave."

Kabal: "I'm taking permanent leave."

Kano: "In a body bag. Shame ya kids will be without a daddy."

Sindel: "So you let that bottom-feeder weaken you with a child."

Y/n: "Here I was, going to ask you for any pregnancy tips."

Sindel (disheartened): "Edenian pregnancies are different than Earthrealmers but, make the speedster give you backrubs."

Y/n: "Noted."

Y/n: "I gotta ask, any pregnancy tips?"

Sonya (face softens): "You're not going to like it but, low-strain exercise will actually help."

Y/n: "You're right, I didn't like that."

Sonya: "You better treat Y/n like a damn princess."

Kabal: "Yes, madam bootlicker." *sarcastically salutes*

Sonya: *sigh* "I tried, Y/n."

Sonya: "I don't know what Y/n sees in you."

Kabal: "At least Y/n didn't bang Johnny."

Sonya: "Now ya done it."

Cassie Cage: "Please tell me you're having a gender reveal party."

Y/n: "Maybe...."

Cassie Cage: "PLEASE let me plan it. Please."

Kabal: *regretfully* "Any advice on being a father?"

Johnny Cage: "Oh my god so first....When I first...you gotta be prepared for...'"*endless rambling*

Kabal: "I shouldn't have asked."

Johnny Cage: "So, finally settling down, eh?"

Kabal: "Choose your words carefully, Cage."

Johnny Cage: "Congrats."

Kabal: "That was surprisingly..genuine."

Kabal: "I am not going to make my kids watch your trash movies, Cage."

Johnny Cage: "C'mon, they're fun for the whole family!"

Kabal: "I don't want to fry their brains that early."

Y/n: "Look, I can pick anyone for Godmother, you can pick anyone for Godfather."

Kabal: "Deal. No quips about who I pick though."

Y/n: "Same goes for me."

Mileena: "Dearest Y/n."

Y/n: "I have to ask you something." *explains what a Godmother is* "Would you like to be the Godmother of my twins?"

Mileena: *tearfully runs and hugs you, no fight ensues, match ends in immediate friendship*

Kabal: "MILEENA? Are you serious?"

Y/n: "Like Erron is any better?"

Kabal: "She will eat them!"

Y/n: "You said no quips."

121 notes · View notes

sp00kymulderr · 7 months

Text

take the long way home - part 2

series masterlist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x afab reader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, one night stand, cursing, reader is a mess, Marcus is Marcus.

Word Count: 1k

Series Summary: Classic story, right? You meet a handsome man, let him take you home, and plan to never see him again. Of course, these things rarely go to plan.

A/N: To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates or see taglist details on my masterlist.

Marcus feels sick.

The moment he see's you in that meeting room, his new employee, he feels quesy with it. You...the person who had come in to his life one evening and left it without a word the next morning. He had thought about seeing you again, too many times to count...but hell, not like this.

Definitely not like this.

When he had woken up that morning to find you already gone from his bed, from his home and from his life his first feeling had been quite reasonably one of disappointment. Marcus hated waking up alone, no one to talk to, no one to kiss good morning - in the past he had even chased relationships just to not be alone. After a breakup he would wake unfulfilled and lonely in bed, unable to shake the feeling for weeks. After Teresa it had been worse.

Maybe he was naive but he had assumed you would at least let him make you breakfast, after what you had let him do the previous night. But you hadn’t left even a note, not your number pinned to his fridge or a ‘thanks for the memories’. Not even a quick cup of coffee and a kiss on the cheek. Had it been too much to expect? Was he just not well versed on the one night stand anymore? Maybe he really was just still making mistakes over and over again…just like before.

Now he thinks back to that night. Before you’d gotten home - before you’d gotten in to his bed. You’d mentioned a new life - a new job and a fresh start - in that hopeful but melancholy tone that had drawn him to you in the first place. God, he had never thought for a moment the job could be here. In his department. Working with him. Maybe he should’ve asked more but then there hadn’t been much talking after the bar.

So Marcus stands in that meeting room shell shocked and feeling sick. Not just that…he feels anxious and unsure and he doesn’t even think there is protocol in the HR documents for this kind of thing.

He stays silent for just a beat too long and someone in the room clears their throat. He’s just standing there barely through the doorway, staring at the new hire.

The prettiest new hire he could've ever imagined.

Damn he was screwed.

****

You give him a smile, hopefully something professional and not something that says ‘oh god oh god I slept with my boss’.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Pike" You say confidently, saving him from his freeze as you stand up to shake his hand. If you can just keep everything professional you’ll be fine, right? It was one night and it didn’t mean a thing, right?

The contact of his hand on yours sends a spark of memory right through to your brain and you have to blink sharply to stop seeing that same hand disappearing beneath the hem of your dress not that long ago.

"You alright, boss?" One of the others, Michael you think, says to him.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Busy morning, just trying to catch my thoughts before we go over this case" Marcus clears his throat and finally moves to sit down at the head of the table.

"So..." he takes one more moment, a breath, before pulling some papers from a binder.

There’s a syndicate of art forgers operating out of Chicago. Marcus talks the team through it as you try so, so hard to listen and not think about the things your mind is apparently determined to make you think on. This is your new job and your new life; you can't screw it up just because you screwed the wrong person.

Not again.

You want to think about work. You’ve uprooted your whole life to be someone new, someone better. But how the hell can you be that when your boss is a man with huge brown eyes and a soulful stare and a kiss that could stop time?

Somewhere in the distance you hear someone saying your name, but you're pretty damn lost in whatever the hell is happening in your mind.

"Huh?" You say, and see eight expectant faces staring back at you.

"Did you want to...can you introduce yourself to the team?" Marcus is speaking, of course it's his voice.

His voice had moaned your name just a few short weeks ago. If it wouldn’t look completely nuts you’d slap yourself just to get that damn thought out of your head.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course” You mumbled, trying to get your thoughts back on track. You sit up straighter and try for that air of confidence.

“I just transferred from New York - Organized Crime division - going for a bit of a change after…” After I got my heart broken by my partner… “After closing off one of the biggest cases. I needed something uh, different”

Not a lie, although not the whole truth. You’d worked with your partner for years and you’d loved them for years and then they’d met someone else. Just like that. After the case you’d been chasing for years was finally put to an end you’d had to get out of there and never see them again. But your new team didn’t need to know that. Your new boss definitely didn’t need to know that.

You look at the team. All of them pleasant, all of them welcoming. But all you feel is this pit of dread in your stomach. You don’t look at Marcus. After a few questions about your work, and an introduction to the others' roles they’re leaving the room before you even realize the meeting has ended.

And just like that it's you and Marcus in the room together.

You clasp your hands together and stand awkwardly from your chair. You should look at him but god you don't want to look at him. How could you have let this happen, why did you have to go home with him that night? Why did you have to keep making these stupid decisions?

"So...new job huh?" Marcus finally breaks the silence with a weak voice and you look over at him, steeling yourself. You will not be taken in by those warm brown eyes, you will not.

"Yeah. New job" You start, not sure what exactly to say

“We should probably talk-“ He begins but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

"Look…Blank slate? Lets just- We’ll pretend we’ve never met before. It was only one night, it’s not like we know each other”

Perhaps in your dream world, you’d like this to be different. He’s handsome and kind and you had really enjoyed your night with him. But this is the real world, and life isn’t a goddamn fairytale where you can make eyes at your boss without consequence.

“This job is really important for me. It's really, really important I don't screw it up" You explain and look at him with pleading eyes. Marcus looks disappointed? Upset? You're not sure. You don't like his expression.

"Blank slate, yeah, that's fair. I wouldn't want to start you off on the wrong foot here…. It was just the one night. Right" Marcus's voice is a little quiet, like he's not sure he believes those words as he looks at you - you feel like his eyes are searching yours for something. You try very hard to not give him anything to find.

“Well…" He finally gets up, saying your name as he opens the door for you.

“Welcome to the team. It’s nice to meet you”

#Marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal character fiction #Pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories #take the long way home #series #Gideon writes

77 notes · View notes