#Punk Sam supremacy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alicenchanted · 17 days ago

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Wallflower

Punk!Sam x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his concert in Zuzu city, Sam sneaks the reader into his bedroom. Feelings and baggage come out as Sam struggles to explain why he's been pushing the reader away, but they make up pretty quickly ;)

Word Count: 3048 words

Content: This is my take on arguably the best 10 heart scene (though I am usually an elliott gal) I like my porn to have some emotion but don't worry ya'll they are up against the wall by the end. Sam can be sexy and punk and awkward about his emotions!! Reader is also implied like soft sweet vibes.

Warnings: swiss army knife used but not in a threatening way, shouldn't bother anyone but just in case!! It's like two sentences

Read on Ao3

“Quit pushing!”

“Well hurry up then… don’t want Emily gossiping if she sees you,” Sam muttered, his hands bracing your hips. He glanced to the front entrance, making sure you weren’t within the stupid doorbell camera’s line of sight. Kent took home security very seriously.

Sam’s rough hands gripped the tops of your thighs, pushing you up and over his windowsill. You could feel each of his silver ringed fingers squeezing the skin. It was on purpose of course, he’d take any opportunity to touch you. “Don’t you do any work on that farm? I thought you’d be stronger.” His voice was teasingly annoyed, prompting you to turn your head and glare.

“Sorry, I’m not used to breaking into houses,” you snapped.

“It’s technically not breaking in, I do live here.” He threw himself in behind you, landing with a practiced ease. The lime green carpet beneath the window was noticeably dirty, sprinkled with flecks of mud he had done a half-ass job cleaning up. You knew Sam liked to go out in the rain, mostly with Seb and Abby. He had never invited you. It stung a little.

“I wouldn’t have worn this if I knew that you were planning on taking the window in,” you huffed, gesturing to the black, flowy sundress you wore. You were glad you had gone to his concert, Sam was truly gifted at the guitar, but wow did you misread the room. Punks, goths, emos… how could anyone tell the difference? You thought the black would be enough but you were sorely mistaken. Sundresses were not within any of those subgenres. Sam’s eyes roamed greedily over your figure, but he noticed the stiffness in your shoulders that screamed insecurity.

“C’mere princess,” he cooed, hand cupping your jaw with a gentleness he only reserved for you, “you looked beautiful- look beautiful, even now. Even with that hole.” His hand slid to your ass, rubbing at a spot on the skirt of your dress. It must have caught on a nail on the way in. His hands were warm and rough, his fingers calloused by years of skimming them across the metal strings of his guitar, and you could feel every glide. He grinned wickedly as he brushed agains the elastic of the panties you had worn, his hands climbing beneath the flowy linen of your dress to push the fabric up.

“Sam!” you smacked his hand away. “Not yet, tell me why we’re sneaking around. Why can't I see your mom? I brought her that eggplant parm the other day and I want to know if she liked it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Jeez, does it really matter? Just come over tomorrow and I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it.” He rolled his eyes, impatiently tugging you closer by the hips.

He had been acting strange lately, distant in a way he wasn’t before. Just a few weeks ago he was inviting you to try playing Solarion Chronicles, to go skateboarding by the river with him. You still remembered the warmth of his hands as he held you on the board, laughing and whisking you up when you failed a simple ollie. “Yeah, it does matter,” you said. “Why have you been so… I don’t even know… so weird?”

He tugged you closer, making a frustrated noise as your back hit the wall with a stern pressure. Even as his grip allowed you no wiggle room, his hand slid up to cup the back of your head, making sure you didn’t bump it against his window frame. “You talk too much- just kiss me already.”

His lips slanted against yours, his tongue brushing against the soft pink flesh urgently. You felt the cool metal of his lip ring against your mouth, but you didn’t give in to the urge to tug on it. Instead, you gripped his shoulders and pushed them back just a little. “Wait Sam. We need to talk about this. I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”

He didn’t say anything, his jaw tensing as he slid his face into the warm space of your neck, leaving a few soft kisses above the spaghetti strap on your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth snapping it made you shiver as he murmured, “We can talk about it another time, babe.”

He sounded dismissive, but his shoulders had slumped slightly, as if that facade of careless, eager hunger had slipped. “Sam,” you mumbled, trying to look him in the eye, but he only pushed his face further into your neck. The heat of his cheeks, growing warmer with a shameful blush, seared you as he sighed.

He pulled back, but his eyes were trained deliberately on the ceiling. “Look I know how to fuck women and- No, shhh, wait-” He stumbled over his words as he took in the bewildered look on your face, “Just- just let me finish.”

He took another breath as you nodded, his hand fidgeting with the thin metal bar in his eyebrow. It was a nervous tick you recognized. “I meant,” he paused, “I know like- how this part goes. The sleeping around thing. And- and I know how to be friends with girls, obviously. Abby and I get along I think. I just don’t know how to do this part.” His hand gestured back and forth between you two.

“I’m not sure I understand…”

He sucked on his lip, taking another tight breath as he tried to rearticulate. “Like, you and me. I don’t want you to be like Abby and I don’t want you to be like- I don’t know. You know what I’m saying.”

An awkward laugh escaped your lips, “Not really…”

He turned even redder, trying to step back, but you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him close again. “Stop that, Sam. I’m not- I’m not mad at you, I just want to understand. You like me… right?”

“God yes,” he breathed, his brows shifting into a confused, desperate furrow.

“Why don’t you want to be seen with me?” A sharp pain twisted in your stomach as you asked. That was the question now, wasn’t it? That thing that had been bugging you about his behavior. He was embarrassed of you. You were a fucking farmer. His friends, they were cool. They played music and games and went drinking on weekends. You stayed in to knit and make homemade jams.

His face broke a little as you asked, pulling you close, “No no no, see? I knew I’d fuck this up-” When you didn’t answer, he started again. “I’m afraid. I want you to like my friends, I want to bring you places, I want you to be friends with my mom, heck- I want Vincent to love you, too.” He blew out a long breath, finally looking at you once again as he leaned his forehead against yours, stooping down to even out your heights. “I don’t know how to do any of that.”

You quirked a brow in confusion, but kept your tone gentle, “Well, Sam, isn’t that my responsibility? If your mom and your friends didn’t like me it wouldn’t be your fault…”

“No,” he said quickly, seeing the creeping nerves in your expression, “They do. They do like you. They- They even ask me why you don’t come around more often but I just- I’m afraid. I’ve never had a real girlfriend before. Never anything longer than a month or two. I don’t want it to be like that with you.”

You opened your mouth to reassure him but he kept going, the words pouring out now. “I really really like you. Really like you. Every time I’ve felt like things were getting serious with someone it’s all gone to shit and yeah- sometimes it was my fault. I don’t want to think about letting you down, or- or what could happen if we’re official and everyone I love loves you and then it goes bad again. You’ll be alone. I’ll be alone.”

It was… a tough thing to think about. Something in you revolted at his words, did he really have such little faith in your relationship? But you knew that wasn’t it. You had your own baggage, this was his. It was too soon to trick yourself into thinking things would work out perfectly, sunshine and rainbows. You brushed a lock of damp, blond hair from his face. It was still warm, sweaty after their concert and the sweltering bus ride home. You brushed the patches on his jacket, smoothing the threads down. Weren’t these the things that mattered, at least right now?

“One day at a time, Sam. We’ll figure it out.”

“What do you mean?” He asked warily. There was a soft, barely there tremor. Clearly, he believed this was where it ended, where you decided he didn’t know what he wanted and still lived in his parents house and still dreamed of music like a child, and didn’t know how to cook or clean or anything useful-

“I mean… I like you. Do you like me?”

“Yes,” he answered again. There was no hesitation in his eyes, but there was confusion. “I do”

“Well if I like you and you really really like me… then it doesn’t matter what the future holds.” He didn’t look so convinced.

“We don’t need to get married tomorrow, Sam,” You gave a soft laugh, hoping to ease the tension. “I want to start slow, I want to get to know your friends and family before I start flaunting you.”

He smiled a little at your tease. “I think I should be the one flaunting you around. You deserve so much better than me.” His lips brushed your forehead.

“There’s nothing wrong with slowing things down.” Your fingers crept into his hair, slipping through the longer bits at the back of his neck. He purred as he felt the tips of your nails scratch lightly. It was his sweet spot.

“Don’t do that to me…” He groaned softly, his eyes shutting as he tipped his head back, exposing his neck. You pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple, making him groan again as he finally looked at you. “Slowing things down… seems like your actions don’t match your words.” Though his words were chiding, he didn’t seem to be upset by your touch in the slightest. His pupils were quickly growing wide, hungry.

“Sorry… you’re right I shouldn’t have,” you went to pull back, but his hands flew to your hips, walking you back against the wall.

He guided your hands back into your hair, whispering the word please into your ear. You bit your lip and tugged a little, earning a low moan from him. “You deserve better, better than being fucked up against a wall…” he said as his big hands slid to the back of your thighs yet again that night. He lifted you easily, slotting his hips neatly against yours. “But I’m gonna do it anyway if you don’t tell me to stop.”

His brown eyes were dark, but still held so much warmth. He would stop if you told him to, would set you down, walk you home even. But how could you ask him to stop now?

“Don’t stop.” You tugged again on his jacket, attempting to pull it off in a way that was sexy rather than desperate, and he laughed. He slid it off and threw it to the ground, leaving himself in that ripped tank that showed off the toned muscles in his arms.

He growled playfully as he saw you looking him over, “I can’t believe I ever thought you were just a sweet little thing…” His hands slid under your dress, hiking the skirt up around your waist. “I’ve been excited for these,” he brushed his fingers against the swath of black fabric at your core. He grinned at your confusion, “I saw them earlier when you climbed through the window.”

“Sam! You were looking?” You huffed, but he only answered with a cocky smirk. “Ugh��I hate you.”

“Yeah, right, princess.” He brushed his nose against yours in a mocking kiss. “You already told me how much you like me.” His voice pitched up into a teasing mockery of your own as he continued, “Oh, Sam, I wanna flaunt you around and- and we can take things slowly and fall in love…” He stretched out the word love, and you hissed indignantly. Those words had been for his benefit, not your own! “Besides,” his gaze turned feral as he thumbed the slick spot forming on your lace, “it certainly doesn’t feel like you hate me.”

The look of startled shock and the grumpy glare you gave him made him chuckle. The sound was low and sexy, but he kissed away your pouty lip with eyes full of unbearable affection. You couldn’t help yourself from kissing back. His lips grew more desperate the longer you kissed, and soon you gave in to that nagging urge. The metal of his lip ring was cool and satisfying as you tugged it between your own lips. In answer, he shoved his hips against the center of you, letting you feel the bulge growing there. His skinny jeans were too tight to hide his arousal, but he didn’t seem embarrassed in the least.

“It’s way past my bedtime,” you huffed, “I should leave you here.” He didn’t respond, only humming softly against your mouth as he began to grind into you. His clothed cock rubbed against your panties, and he grunted, bunching the skirt of your sundress higher.

“No way,” he shook his head, propping you against the wall with his knee as he fumbled with his zipper, “Not when you’ve got me all fucking hard now.” The button of his jeans popped and he slid the zipper down to free himself. Warmth leaked into your sides, your hips, everywhere as his hands returned to you. “This is your fault, telling me you wanna go slow, “he paused, grinding unashamed against your slick panties, “and then pulling my hair- looking all cute like that.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered. His hand found yours and he shoved it into his pants, making you cup the hard length of him.

“Go on,” he encouraged, cupping your face tenderly despite the filthy words coming from his lips, “Touch it. You made me hard, now fix it.” Your hand slid into his boxers, gripping him around the base. His dick was heavy and thick, the skin velvety and warm. “Shit… you’re so gentle with me, princess. I can hardly stand it-” His voice broke on a groan when you started stroking, pulling him out of his pants.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small swiss army knife. Kent was very into safety, apparently. Cool metal brushed against your pussy and you held completely still. The blade slid clean through the lace of the panties, leaving you bare as he cut it away. You whimpered softly and he grinned, “What, you like that? Maybe next time we play I’ll show you more.” He carefully put the blade away, squeezing your ass. “Keep stroking, babe.”

He chuckled at the soft moan that fell from your lips, shifting your hips so that you were comfortably lined up with his cock. “Now put it in,” he murmured in your ear, kissing and nipping at the soft skin to make you shiver. Your hand held him, carefully pressing his tip against the soft, slick folds of your pussy with a little whine. The thick head of his cock pushed forward, slipping into your untouched entrance. “Good girl, you take me so easily… I didn’t even have to lift a finger.” He held your hips in place against the wall as he leaned forward, slowly sinking into your cunt until he bottomed out.

“Sam…” His thrusts were achingly slow, pulling out nearly to the tip before slipping back in an inch at a time. You grabbed at his strong arms, currently holding you aloft by your ass and up against the warm brick, at his thin ripped t-shirt, at the silver chains dangling from his throat.

He rumbled a laugh as he thrusted hard, earning a squeak from your startled lips. “So needy, baby. Don’t you trust me to give you what you need?”

“No, I-” you grumbled, but he cut you off with another hard thrust. He propped up your hips, holding them in place as he picked up speed. Soon enough he was pounding you into the wall, one hand on your head, the other pinning you down tighter as he shifted his hips. His cock found its target a moment later, tapping your cervix until tears pricked your eyes. The sight had him grinning wickedly as he gently brushed the moisture away, never breaking his deep pumping motion. “Aww, don’t cry princess, I'm gonna make you cum so hard…”

He doubled down, slamming into you recklessly as he moaned and tightened his hold. His rhythm became sloppy as he panted into your neck. “Cum with me, please… I wanna feel it- I need to feel you.” A little groan loosed from his lips as he watched you reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit quickly as your head leaned back against his careful hand. He couldn’t hold back, spilling into you with ragged breaths at the sight. “Fuck, baby, m’sorry, I couldn’t…” He kept pumping, desperately wanting to feel you tighten around his cock as you climaxed.

With a few more well aimed thrusts and sweet kisses to your neck, you were melting in his arms, finally feeling that sweet release as he cradled you close. He went to fix your dress and set you down, but you shook your head softly, still in the blissful daze. You didn’t want to be put down, and you doubted your own ability to stand right now, anyways.

A tender smile crossed his features, and he walked you to his bed, sliding in and making sure you were wrapped up securely in the covers. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and then just all over until you giggled.

“Sleep, cutie, we’ll tell my mom about us in the morning.”

#Punk Sam supremacy #Sam SDV #Stardew Valley #Sam x Reader #Smut #Lemons #Sam x farmer #SDV #Fanfic #My Writing #Wallflower #Wall sex #Female Reader #awkward sam

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samaspic31 · 2 years ago

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I would like to formally thank every artist who depicts men with long hair, body hair, earrings, big noses, waists other than rectangular, people who include diverse silhouettes, ethnic features and hair textures, including fanartists who add it to uninclusive canons. You are appreciated and i am kissing your forehead

#screamijg cheering more fem men more androgyny more punks more more #i cant stand the short haired blonde supremacy #sam speaks #im citing men cause that’s what i notice the most as a long haired trans man but that goes to people who have diverse depictions of women to #and i loooooove characters void of gender coding or cumulating them both i love ambiguity i love not knowing a character’s gender

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tea-writes19 · 7 days ago

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hit single | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader

summary: when peter drags steve to a concert, he doesn’t expect to fall for the artist

warnings: popstar!reader, fluff, swearing, not infinity war and endgame compliant, basically they defeated thanos in wakanda, steve being an old man, famous!reader, comedy, suggestive content?, very very minor sambucky, like it’s not explicitly mentioned, but it’s implied

a/n: first steve fic!!! got inspired watching eras tour movie👀 also i really need to get onto those joaquin fics, but i’m just on a roll with the smau’s in my brain rn😩 anyways enjoy lovelies!!

peterparker added to their story —>

[caption: so readddyyyy!!!!]

story replies

nedleeds: sooo exciteddd!!!!

user1: omg you’re at y/n’s concert toooo???!!

user2: so jealous😫

liked by nedleeds, samwilson, mjjones, and others

peterparker: pov: captain america falling in love with y/n l/n

tagged: @/nedleeds @/mjjones @/steverogers @/yourusername

view comments below

user3: can’t believe i could’ve met STEVE ROGERS and Y/N tonight😩

nedleeds: best night ever!!!!!!

user4: y/n l/n supremacy🗣️

peterparker: hear hear!

user5: omg i was there too!!!

user6: same!!

user7: literally best night of my life

user8: frfr

mjjones: i think i lost my voice from screaming😩

samwilson: ngl kinda salty i didn’t get asked to be y’all’s chaperone😒

buckybarnes: i thought you said her music is overrated🧐

samwilson: i did not!

samwilson: i said her song ‘wildflower’ is overrated

samwilson: don’t put words in my mouth, cyborg!

user9: lmaooooo

user10: it’s okay, sam! i think wildflower’s overrated too…

yourusername: i’m sorry, WHO was at my WHAT now??!!

peterparker: oh my god

peterparker: i’m freaking out rn

peterparker: i can’t believe you saw this🫣😅

user11: omg omg omg, y/n commented!!!

user12: lowkey need her and cap to meet now…

liked by steverogers, peterparker, mjjones, and others

yourusername: nyc i love you🤍

ps captain rogers, i am single!

view comments below

user13: best night of my life!

user14: i need tickets rn…

user15: not her shooting her shot😭

user16: i love her

user17: she’s just like me fr

peterparker: @/steverogers cap cap cap!!!!!

samwilson: @/steverogers come on man!

user18: @/steverogers captain america please seeeeeeee🙏🙏

buckybarnes: @/steverogers goddamn it punk, look at your phone

steverogers: what?

steverogers: wait…

yourusername: heyyyyyyy👀

user19: 😭😭

user20: PLEASE COME TO IRELAND😩

user21: love the caption😭

user22: i’m dying at the comments😭😭

user23: y/n l/n x avengers collab when👀

user24: LITERALLY

user25: need this so bad

user26: the ao3 girls are working hard on the fics

user27: the steve rogers/y/n l/n tag already has 27 works in it😭

liked by samwilson, steverogers, peterparker, and others

yourusername: until next time nyc🫶🏻🏙️

view comments below

user28: PLEASE COME BACK!!!

user29: seeing y/n in the wild was insane!!!

user30: omg lucky😭

user31: who’s in the photo booth w/ you y/n?

user31: WHO’S IN THE FUCKING BOOTH Y/N???

user32: ^^^

user34: tell us y/n!

steverogers: i’ll have to show you brooklyn next time…

yourusername: yes please!

user35: HELLO?!?

user36: wait wait wait

user37: *sighs and opens ao3 again*

user38: lmaooo real

user39: ima bout to crash out if they don’t get together😤

yourusername added to their story —>

[caption: tour shenanigans]

story replies

user40: boston n2 let’s go🥳🥳

user41: so can’t wait😩

user42: i’m so ready!!

user43: me when i don’t want to get out of bed to grab something core

user44 added to their story —>

[caption: steve rogers sighting at y/n’s show tn!!!]

story replies

user45: oh my god!!!

user46: holy shit holy shit holy—

user47: eeeeeeekkkk i’m so happy rn🥹🥹

user48: fav ship everrrrrrrrr

user49: that man is so in love😩

liked by steverogers, buckybarnes, peterparker, and others

yourusername: boston you are awesome!

view comments below

user50: omg is that cap!?

peterparker: can’t believe you played ‘daisy rain’ for boston but not nyc😒

yourusername: i’ll play it just for you another time✊😔

user51: love that she’s friends with peter now😭

user52: y/n out here collecting the avengers like infinity stones

user53: thanos is scared of her😔

user54: FOUL😭😭

user55: why’s my wife so talented😩

user56: hoe wdym? that’s my wife🤨

yourusername: calm down babes…i got two hands

steverogers: 🧐

user57: ahhhhhhhhhh

buckybarnes: i taught him how to use emojis!

samwilson: yeah…after I taught YOU how to use them😒

buckybarnes: semantics

samwilson: i hate you

buckybarnes: the feeling’s mutual

natasharomanoff: they’re literally cuddling on the couch rn…

user58: 😭😭

user59: i think i saw god tonight…

user60: alexa play ‘god is a woman’ by ariana grande

user61: ^^^

user62: not nearly enough people are freaking out over CAPTAIN AMERICA being in y/n’s post…

user63: FR they are so dating

user63: i’m calling it now

liked by yourusername, natasharomanoff, buckybarnes, and others

steverogers: brooklyn with my favorite girl🤍

tagged: @/yourusername

view comments below

user64: YOUR girl?!?

samwilson: i’m your favorite boy right?

buckybarnes: i’m right here…

user65: 😭😭

yourusername: sam might not be my favorite boy, but you certainly are🫶🏻

steverogers: you really couldn’t help yourself, huh?

yourusername: you know me so well☺️

user66: MOM HAS A NEW BF🥹

user67: literally so happy rn for her

user68: we got literal captain america as our stepdad🥹😭

user69: omg omg omg

user70: HIS FAVORITE GIRL EVERYBODY😩🥹

peterparker: and matchmaker of the year goes to…

mjjones: matchmakers*

nedleeds: ^^^

natasharomanoff: is your girl single?

steverogers: don’t even think about it nat

samwilson: am i at least your favorite black person?

samwilson: steve

samwilson: STEVE PLEASE

user71: i can’t-

user72: sam’s having an existential crisis over here😭

buckybarnes: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/howling_commandos/gabe_jones

liked by peterparker, steverogers, samwilson, and others

yourusername: happy🫶🏻☺️

tagged: @/steverogers

view comments below

user73: eeeeekkkk so happy rn

user74: mother when she mothers😩

steverogers: beyond happy with you🤍

yourusername: stop you’re making me blush🤭

samwilson: listen

samwilson: @/yourusername please tell me i’m your favorite black person

yourusername: you’re my favorite bird

samwilson: i’ll fucking take it

user75: SAM😭😭

user76: is this what a parasocial relationship feels like🥹

user77: so so so happy for you y/n!

user78: so ready for all the songs abt cap

user79: OMG YES

buckybarnes: they already have one: spotify

user80: OMG😭

user81: this comment section is a mess😭

peterparker: free tickets when?

yourusername: free spidey suit when?

peterparker: touche

#tea ☆#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smau #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america steve rogers #marvel smau #marvel fanfiction #mcu smau #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 years ago

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Ace, Deuce, and Cater: *wheezing*

Riddle: What's the matter?

Ace: We've seen... We've seen Leona-senpai singing a lullaby to his baby sibling!

Cater: And I've had it recorded.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: That was funny to you, Deuce?

Deuce: Not the humming, sir. But the lyrics.

Cater: *playing the audio*

Leona: You're growing too fast, you little punk.

Leona: In a month or two, you'll start to crawl.

Leona: Will you climb on top of drawers, that, I don't wanna know.

Baby MC: *sneezes*

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *starts laughing* It seems I have something to share in the housewarden meeting.

Cater: Hey, don't say that it's us.

Leona: What the fuck is that?

Ruggie: A shirt.

Leona: Yes. I see that it's a shirt. But I'm asking why there's "Big Brother Supremacy" written on it?

Ruggie: Sam gave it for free. Said it suits you.

Leona: ...

Leona: *turns it into sand*

Ruggie: Come on! You should've at least wear it!

Leona: Kifaj will be visiting us tomorrow.

Leona: You should know your manners now.

Baby MC: *giggles when he holds their small hand*

Leona: That's right. Kill him with cuteness, you little punk.

#twisted wonderland #twst baby mc #twst leona #twst ace #twst deuce #twst cater #twst ruggie #twst riddle #the youngest kingscholar

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ok-wow · 5 years ago

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Black Entertainment and White Consumption: Past Vs. Present

For centuries now, Black people have been seen as a source of entertainment for white people but are still silenced to this day if they speak out against the way they're treated. Since the very day Africans were stolen from their countries and forced to work for Europeans, they've also been forced to entertain the entire time—whether through music, sports, fighting, or any other creative outlet through which they shine.

The entire global music industry (as well as our entire sports industry) as we know it has been built on the backs of black Americans. It is perplexing, infuriatingly so, that in our current times, black Americans are being shunned, ridiculed, and scolded for speaking up about the way they've been used and abused since they were trafficked here. Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, Sam Cooke, and every other black artist that has spoken out against racism in America deserves to be heard and understood.

Black Entertainment in the Past

During slavery, enslaved Africans found many ways to fill what little free time they were afforded. Typically, these ways included singing, dancing, drinking, wrestling, etc. (Lussana, 2010). In some areas and on some plantations, the slave owners would join them, as told by Henry Bibb, a former slave. They would laugh and drink together, play music, and engage in fights. The slave owners watched the men fight each other and gambled on who would win (Bibb, 1849). This may seem like a more positive aspect of slave life, but in fact, it is quite sad that slave owners were able to see slaves as people enough to drink and party with them, but not enough that they deserved freedom. The point is reiterated; Black people are only as valuable to white people as what they can do for them.

This mentality continued well past slavery and was seen quite often in the emerging music industry. For example, Jazz music was made popular by Black artists, but was soon overtaken by white artists and white run record companies. It was monopolized by whites, and Black artists were shut out. As stated by Lynne Seago, “Racism in Chicago during the 1920s changed jazz from a potent and distinctly N***o [outdated term for African Americans] style of music to a diluted by-product of mainstream popular culture.” She goes on to explain that, in typical fashion, Jazz music started as something seen by the white community as “immoral” and referred to it as “whorehouse music” until it became popular among white artists. Only then did they decide that it was an artform, and only then was it considered acceptable music. Seago goes on to say, “While black musicians were stuck playing for a limited, African-American audience, white jazz was becoming increasingly popular across the nation, to the point where there was even a ‘widespread denial in America of the black man's role in the creation and development of [jazz]).’” This is something that continues to happen today. Black culture is continuously robbed and then denied of what it has created once white people pick it up and bring it to the mainstream.

Going over the history of music and its evolution, a common theme is that the Black artist community created a new subgenre of the music they used to make as a way of reclaiming that music for themselves. A few examples of this would be the creation of Soul music as a way to reclaim RnB, Funk as a way to reclaim Rock and Roll, and Hardbop as a way to reclaim Jazz.

Hardbop is a genre similar to Bebop which was another subgenre that’s purpose was to reclaim Jazz. The difference between them, as explained by Walk That Bass (a popular Jazz piano instructor), is that Bebop was a more artistic, abstract form of music with more difficult melodies and faster tempos. It wasn’t made for dancing, and that’s where Hardbop came in. Hardbop had simpler melodies and a more bluesy vibe.

Jack Trudell explains that Hardbop was created as a resistance to segregation, Jim Crow laws, and as a reaction to the popularization of “cool Jazz”. The response to this movement by Jazz critics was harsh and tells an age-old tale of white people feeling attacked and offended that Black people dare speak up about the harsh realities of their existence. A notable white Jazz critic (it can be argued that no white person with views that deny the Black influence on and creation of Jazz music should even be considered a Jazz critic, but I digress) by the name of Martin Williams wrote in his essay titled “The Funky-Hard Bop Regression” wrote, “The gradual dominance of the Eastern and then national scene in jazz by the so-called "hard bop" and "funky" school has shocked many commentators and listeners. The movement has been called regressive, self-conscious, monotonous, and even contrived.” This mentality shared by white listeners and artists dates back to the moment that they brought enslaved Africans to America, and it persists to this day—"Black people are meant to provide us with services and nothing more. Anything more than that is hostile, regressive, and made-up.”

Black Entertainment in the Present

As we fast forward to the 1980s and present day, we still see the same patterns of Black suffering and White fragility. Hip hop was created as a resistance movement against police brutality and white supremacy in the urban setting. It was an exclusively Black (and some would argue Latino) movement, and it was demonized by white people until it became popular in the 80s. Rap/Hip hop were seen as violent and misogynistic, and the Black adolescents and artists that engaged with it were often victims of severe institutionalized racism. As explained by Rachel Sullivan, they were given less opportunities to record under contract, and even less opportunities to go on concert tours because the insurance companies would not insure their concerts due to the belief that the artists and fans were violent.

This mentality would be cemented even more by the white politicians of the time publicly shaming and demonizing Black artists. For example, then Vice President Dan Quayle went after Tupac Shakur (and did not bother to pronounce his name correctly) for “promoting violence”, while the President George H.W. Bush went after Ice-T for his song “Cop Killer”. The irony of these statements was that 1) neither of these politicians had listened to the albums in question, and 2) Ice T’s song was a collaboration with a punk group named Body Count.

But, as we have always seen, once Rap and Hip hop became popular, it was taken over by white audiences. White youths outside of inner cities began to pick it up as fans; however, the rap that discussed racism and the struggle of being Black in America was not popular among these white fans. This marks the start of the decline in popularity for political Rap and Hip hop.

Skip forward to present day, and political Rap and Hip hop have made significant comebacks because of the severe civil unrest we are facing due to the unlawful and unjust deaths of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Philando Castile, Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice, George Floyd, Eric Garner, and too many others. The civil rights movement we are experiencing currently is the largest in the history of the U.S., and still, there are white critics who continue to demonize Black artists who speak out against white supremacy and police brutality, while simultaneously enjoying the fruits of the artists’ labor.

One of the most startling examples of this is white people’s love-hate relationship with Beyoncé and her husband, Jay-Z. They have been outspoken since the shooting of Trayvon Martin, which was the start of our current civil unrest. Trayvon’s death made national news because of the obvious racial motivation behind it. He was shot while walking home from the convenience store by a more affluent Latino man who claimed that Trayvon was acting suspiciously and may have had a weapon. In reality, Trayvon had nothing more than a hoodie, a packet of Skittles, an Arizona tea, and black skin. This shooting brought the conversation of anti-black racism back into the mainstream, and Michael Brown’s unlawful shooting incited riots over police brutality. Beyoncé and Jay-Z immediately spoke out against these incidents and condemned police brutality and racism. Jay-Z also produced a docuseries on the shooting of Trayvon, and Beyoncé’s 2013 Superbowl performance was a celebration of Black culture and heritage.

Said performance was met with intense backlash from conservatives, namely white conservatives. Rudy Giuliani, the former mayor of New York City, called the performance “outrageous”, and “an attack” on police. This sentiment was held by many white Americans, with many threatening to boycott Beyoncé, if she did not “tone down” her public politics. Of course, this only spurred her on to make more music that empowered the Black community, namely Black women.

Historically, white people have always loved to watch Black artists perform and be excellent in their field while silencing them when they spoke on more serious topics. What’s even more upsetting is the simple fact that white people today say the same things and share the same mentality that slave owners in the 1800s did. "Shut up and perform, I'll treat you however which way I want, and you just have to take it.” What’s interesting is that they cannot see how deeply racist such a sentiment is. Interesting also that they will take a businessman's word as gospel when it comes to politics but won't take a black artist’s word when they discuss the racism they still face in their field and in the world.

White people must understand that they do not get to partake in Black culture, do not get to enjoy their craft, if they do not support the Black community as people. Music is largely black-influenced and black-supported, and people do not get to enjoy it if they do not support the people who make it possible.

References

“From Potent to Popular: The Effects of Racism on Chicago Jazz 1920-1930” by Lynne Seago

“Hard Bop (& Soul Jazz) Explained” by Walk That Bass http://www.thejazzpianosite.com/jazz-piano-lessons/jazz-genres/hard-bop-soul-jazz-explained/

“A Jazz Revolutionary” by Jack Trudell http://socialistworker.org/2006-2/603/603_13_Coltrane.php

“Hard Bop and Its Critics” by David H. Rosenthal

“Protesting Police Violence, a Playlist” by Juan Siliezar https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2020/07/hiphops-long-history-of-exposing-police-brutality/

“Slouching Toward Bork: The Culture Wars and Self-Criticism in Hip-Hop Music” by Jeffery O.G. Ogbar

“Rap and Race: It's Got a Nice Beat, but What about the Message?” by Rachel E. Sullivan

“Trayvon Martin: 5 ways Beyoncé, Jay-Z have kept the conversation going” by Todd Stewart https://www.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment/os-et-trayvon-martin-beyonce-jay-z-20180620-story.html

“Beyoncé’s Super Bowl Halftime Show Criticized by Rudy Giuliani as ‘Attack’ on Police” by Ryan Parker https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/beyonces-super-bowl-halftime-show-862947

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itsfinancethings · 5 years ago

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If your aim is to tell a nuanced story about heroism, historical trauma and revenge, it’s probably best to keep Nazis—by which I mean the literal perpetrators of the Holocaust—out of it. From a thematic perspective, it’s very hard to win with these guys. Depict them as brilliant, bloodless killing machines, and you’ll burnish their terrifying mythology; choose instead to paint them as dimwitted, incompetent henchmen, and you’re liable to trivialize the suffering and deaths of millions. A few beloved films that take aim at Nazis have managed to avoid these traps by sacrificing emotional realism in favor of off-the-wall satire (The Producers) or sheer catharsis (Inglourious Basterds). Unfortunately, Amazon’s Hunters tries to juggle all three modes, for the duration of a 10-episode TV series, without anything approaching Mel Brooks’ wit or Quentin Tarantino’s technical flair.

Created by relative newcomer David Weil, Hunters will arrive on Prime Video on Friday, Feb. 21 with the imprimatur of executive producer Jordan Peele. It’s set in 1977—that culturally dense year remembered for Star Wars, punk, disco and the Son of Sam murders—and our hero is a young Jewish Brooklynite, Jonah Heidelbaum (Logan Lerman of Percy Jackson fame). Though he’d ideally be in college putting his prodigious smarts to use, Jonah is living at home, working in a comic store and moonlighting as the city’s most inept weed dealer in order to support the Holocaust-survivor grandma (Jeannie Berlin) who raised him. But there’s more to this doting matriarch than Jonah knows, until tragedy strikes and he meets her friend Meyer Offerman (the great Al Pacino, overdoing the stock old-Jewish-guy mannerisms a bit) and gets drawn into a squad of vigilantes assassinating members of a vast network of Nazis living under assumed names in the U.S.

Elsewhere in a 90-minute premiere that feels longer, a suburban-Maryland barbecue ends in a cartoonish burst of gunfire. Homegrown Nazi psycho Travis Leich (Greg Austin) calmly delivers wicked white-supremacist monologues in between calmly committing horrific acts of violence. And Millie Malone (Grey’s Anatomy alum Jerrika Hinton), a black woman struggling to earn respect in the overwhelmingly white, male FBI, is sent to Florida to investigate the murder of an elderly, female NASA scientist. The network of undercover Nazis starts to take shape, as does their evil plot to bring about a Fourth Reich on American soil.

Christopher Saunders/Amazon

Inspired in part by real mid-20th-century Nazi hunters and the shameful U.S. government initiative Operation Paperclip, Hunters shares with Peele’s movies an effort to use fun, propulsive genre storytelling as a vehicle for serious social commentary. Horror, for Peele, is a way of heightening our visceral responses to racism, exploitation, inequality. But Weil’s genre is action comedy, and the comedy in Hunters falls pretty flat. Dick jokes and scatological gags—some harrowingly visual—are constant. I’m not scandalized by this kind of humor, and it wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if it were confined to Jonah and his teen pals (one of whom is called “Bootyhole”). Instead, we hear it from good guys, bad guys, young, old and everyone in between.

These aren’t the only characterizations that feel shallow or underdeveloped. Millie so closely resembles the righteous, earnest detective characters in network procedurals that her scenes almost seem spliced in from a different show. Opting to portray the Nazis as a hierarchy of cartoon villains, Weil makes them so uniformly crafty and fearsome that you can imagine contemporary neo-Nazis watching Hunters and feeling pretty good about their forebears. More disappointing are the Jewish characters, whose personalities are largely accumulations of benign stereotypes, religious factoids and firsthand or inherited trauma. Gefilte fish comes up so often, you’d think every Jew on the planet devoured those gelatinous gray discs daily. Though I wasn’t alive, much less in New York, in 1977, I did grow up Jewish among Jews of Meyer’s and Jonah’s generations, and for me these depictions (like gefilte fish) didn’t pass the smell test.

It seems obvious that caricatures of Jews, even affectionate ones, don’t make a very effective case against antisemitism. But the show also makes subtler, equally unfortunate choices in the way it represents racism. When it’s convenient to the story, anti-Jewish prejudice appears to eclipse or even erase the violence and discrimination nonwhite characters face—such as when Jonah’s black female love interest is dating a belligerent white guy who calls Jonah a “kike.”

Amazon Studios, Prime Video—Christopher SaundersJerrika Hinton in ‘Hunters’

The show’s biggest problem is the garbled messages it sends about violence and revenge. Like Tarantino, Weil palpably savors the suffering of Nazis and wants viewers to do the same. (There’s one particularly gross torture scene whose pleasures Amazon has cautioned me against “spoiling” with a description here.) And I’m not above admitting that I frequently felt a thrilling sense of poetic justice at the sight of mass murderers dying the same gruesome deaths they inflicted on millions of innocent victims. Yet Hunters also shows us those tragic deaths—both in flashbacks to the concentration camps and through the resurgent Reich’s crimes in its new home. Often they’re rendered glibly enough to be indistinguishable from the righteous kills. In a scene set amid the ironic brightness of a bowling alley, Travis, a near-omniscient villain of Coen Brothers proportions, smashes a guy’s teeth in with a bowling ball.

To his credit, Weil’s intention isn’t really to conflate genocide with vengeance for same. In interviews, he talks about growing up with a grandmother who survived the Holocaust and how as a kid her stories sounded to him like “the stuff of comic books and superheroes,” tales of “great good but grand evil.” He’s said that he hopes Hunters can provide “catharsis” and “wish fulfillment.” But he’s also observed that it “becomes this story that lives not in black and white, but in the gray and that murky morality,” posing the question: “If we hunt these monsters, do we risk becoming them ourselves?” Some of that ambivalence comes through in Jonah’s queasiness about becoming a killer, which inspires an intriguing but all-too-brief consideration of whether it’s possible to be a superhero—to be a good person who can stomach massacring bad people—if you don’t harbor considerable darkness of your own. But mostly, the show’s choice to make all forms of violence entertaining overshadows that nuance. At worst, Hunters can lose its antifascist chutzpah and start to come across as equal-opportunity sadistic.

It’s an unfortunate—perhaps the single most unfortunate—fact of life in 2020 that Nazis have recently goose-stepped their way into mainstream American politics, and thus that stories about killing them have begun to resonate as subversive for the first time in our history. That shouldn’t render them off-limits for the entertainment industry. (Just last year, HBO’s comic-book adaptation Watchmen used the superhero genre to launch a withering critique of white supremacy and its insidious, systemic influence in the U.S.) But it does mean that storytellers across media need to be cognizant of the moral and political undertones of their portrayals to an extent that Weil and co-showrunner Nikki Toscano don’t seem to have been. I trust that they as well as Peele, a busy filmmaker whose level of creative input here is unclear, have their hearts in the right place. It’s just a shame that there seems to be so much distance between what Hunters wants to say and what it actually expresses.

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itsfinancethings · 5 years ago

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February 17, 2020 at 12:01AM

Christopher Saunders/Amazon

Amazon Studios, Prime Video—Christopher SaundersJerrika Hinton in ‘Hunters’

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