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Afro Culture (My Culture)
@woobosco - This shit gon be framed in my crib.
#african#african american#afrocentric#afro#afrofuturism#Afro Culture#Afro Centric#afro caribbean#afro curls#afro love#afro handshakes#afro dabs#black love#black people#black panther#black history#black power#blackgirlmagic#black men#black cat#blacklivesmatter#black lives#black life#black beauty#ebony#ebony life#ebony love#woods#woodstock#woo
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Camp Wanderlust, Part 1
Pairing: Camp Counselor!Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, one use of n-word, kissing, mentions of female and male anatomy. FLUFF.
Summary: Welcome to Camp Wanderlust! We're so glad you're here! Inner city kids have been granted the opportunity to spend their summer here, getting introduced to a new world. You and Franklin are camp counselors who can't seem to stop ogling each other.
Word Count: 6,966k
Part 2
A/N: I have no clue where this idea came from but I couldn't stop thinking about college Franklin and how adorable he is! I miss him! So enjoy this new mini-series. I'm also zooted so all mistakes are on me. Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!
Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @nerdieforpedro @bratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii
The cool cotton shirt was already starting to stick to your skin. You fanned yourself, wondering if you had enough time to make it back to the cabin before the bus got here. You couldn’t find your scrunchie and your braids were starting to itch as sweat threaded around the parts.
Girls stood to your left, guys stood to your right, all nervous and full of energy. Orientation started three days ago as everyone met each other, went over rules and regulations, and then had real fun later that night as flasks and mini bottles of booze were passed around.
The owners of the camp were a silly white couple who just loved to help inner city kids. They stood off to the side from the group of counselors looking like concerned citizens complaining about a large group of Black folk for no reason. They were nice and all, but funny how their compassion only extended to the kids. Every counselor here came from colleges all around Southern California. Not one street kid.
You had never been to camp though and you had to admit, this was a nice way to show inner city kids that there was more to life than weed and going to jail. You switched your weight to your other hip, looking behind you for the hundredth time.
“You lookin’ for your boyfriend?” Dana, your bunk mate, nudged you with her elbow. She was a really pretty, dark-skinned woman with good hair. Her afro was fluffed out and shining in the morning sun.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“Franklin,” she said, drawing his name out in a song.
You giggled and shook your head, nervously looking around to make sure no one heard her. Despite what she kept insisting, you were not going to throw yourself at Franklin Saint. Your eyes sought him out but if you looked any longer, it would be too obvious. You snatched your eyes away from your right side and looked at Dana.
“No,” you said. “Not happening.”
Once everyone found out that nearly everyone was single, the energy shifted in the room. People started eyeing each other in a new light. Now hookups were dancing through people’s eyes, eyes drooping below the chaste limit, seeking out the most pleasurable mate for your time at camp.
Where else were you going to find people who got you? Certainly not at your respective schools where it felt criminal to be seen consorting with your fellow Negro. If two gathered in a space, it was a warning. If three or more joined, suddenly you were a gang and there were board meetings and secret handshakes banning that sort of thing.
No, here, you were surrounded by woods and a lake. Here the predominant color was as brown as the earth and just as beautiful. Here, anything could happen. So people began pairing off and gossiping. Laying claim on the curve of a hip or soft shoulders to lay on, or perhaps the way a smile made your insides flutter.
Looking over the men, there were certainly some fine specimens. Some tall and broad, skinny and lanky, rounded and thick as molasses. But there was only one for you. He was so dreamy.
His dark skin soaked up the sun. Such a cute, kind of shy smile. But his eyes were low and mischievous. Like he had a secret in them about you. He had worn blue jeans and a striped green shirt, the collars popped open.
When your eyes landed on him, you were ready to drool and fall all over yourself. You had never felt that way about anyone. No one in your neighborhood, no one in your schools, and definitely no one at your college.
And it seemed like he saw all of this float through your brain as he locked his eyes on you and smiled, dipping his chin a bit. You gave him a small smile, in shaking fear that he could see the lust on you, and you turned away from him.
You were not the only one to notice him. Snippets of their conversation had floated to you about the cute boy on the left. No, the far left. Girl, the one who look like my next boyfriend!
You were not going to compete for no man. But your eyes floated to the other men, some who looked your way with genuine interest in your curvy body, and they just weren’t doing it for you. They didn’t set your palms sweating or chest heaving or pussy throbbing. Well, there were maybe one or two you wouldn’t mind entertaining the next four weeks. Let someone else have that man.
Except he had made his way to you. He had introduced himself, voice low and full of dark promises. He had made you laugh and roll your eyes, twist your hair, and find ways to touch him. You had talked all night, completely ignoring everyone else who pointed and gossiped and wondered about you two.
A bus horn honked twice and you flinched as your thoughts snapped back to reality. You did not need flashbacks of that night, finding out everything you could about each other. Bus after bus pulled into the turnabout to offload a flood of preteens. They brought a jittery nervous air to the balmy June day that were directly at odds.
Your eyes scanned the kids as they clutched their little sleeping bags, pillows, and backpacks too heavy for them. They weren’t quite that loud yet. The extroverts had already found each other, forming up groups and surpassing that line between the “popular kids” and the “weird” ones. You weren’t sure who was in your group yet, but you hoped they weren’t little shits.
The owners of the camp, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman but you can call us Doug and Anne, erupted into excited giggles and clapped their hands. Some of the counselors began hiding smirks and smiles and giving each other the Look.
“Welcome to Camp Wanderlust!” Anne yelled in the too quiet air. Nature hadn’t been encroached upon today and was taking its time waking up. The arrival of kids to run across the ground or play in its leaves were a new addition and nature needed a minute.
Anne rushed forward and waved. “We are so excited that you’re here. How excited are you?” Anne continued.
The popular kids cheered and threw their hands in the air while the shy ones stood there staring straight ahead like zombies. Maybe they just weren’t morning kids. Because you sure as shit wasn’t a morning person.
Anne began to list off some welcome bullshit about learning and having fun and going swimming, supervised of course. About making lifelong friends because you could keep in touch with letters. Building bonds and telling some good stories while you’re at it.
She talked about how the cabins were divided. For their safety, girls and boys are in completely separate cabins and lights out at 10pm sharp. No one was allowed outside at night without a chaperone. They were free to go to the bathroom but it was straight back to bed.
She told them the names of each cabin and the cabin badges were important to remember. Doug came forward with a clipboard and started to rabble off badges, cabin numbers, and their assigned counselors.
In unison, you all waved to the kids with bright smiles and held up mini signs you made yourself yesterday. It stated your name. Three guesses on who your partner was. Doug then rattled off names and numbers. Kids began to separate and walk toward you.
A line of girls formed in front of you, bright eyed and cute in their little pigtails and afros and braids. Some looked so painfully shy, you vowed to make sure they felt included and had fun. You thrived in college but you were a shy girl just like them. It cropped up from time to time, but you felt more yourself now than you ever did as a kid.
Doug finished and everyone had their group. The counselors began fanning out to gain some distance and introduce themselves without yelling over a nearby group. You stayed put, not wanting to walk unnecessarily in this heat.
You had been lined up in numerical order, so Franklin was on the opposite end from you. He faced you and you swore you saw him smile at you before turning to his group of Cabin 5 boys. You turned to your own Cabin 5 girls and gave them your name, making them say theirs and their favorite color.
You talked some more, trying to find areas of interest where they might all intersect. You doubted you could get total consensus, but it never truly hurt to be optimistic. You took your group of ten to the Raven badge house and let them decide how to pick beds. You weren’t going to help with that. You watched as they worked to decide which bed would be theirs. The assertive ones announced which ones they wanted and if no one objected, then that was fine. The shyer girls took their time trying to be polite and give up whichever one they wanted. The whole process was over pretty quickly and you were back outside, giving them a tour and dodging other groups.
Your eyes immediately found Franklin coming out of the cabin next door. He moved between shadow and sun as he left the cover of the cabin. He lit up, that sun hitting him all over his gorgeous body. He wore khaki shorts and a blue shirt with Camp Wanderlust written across the back. You wore a similar shirt and let yourself picture being snuggled up with him.
You shook your head and faced your group, leading them out and around Camp. You showed them the shower and bathrooms, mess hall, activity tunnel which was the bridge to the rest of the camp. You showed them the Traveler bridge which took them to the lake and boat house, and finally to Curiosity Hill which led to the woods. The hill was a long slope that led to the woods proper full of bugs and small animals.
You looked at your watch, making good time. You faced your group and started answering questions so they could get to know you. They called you pretty and asked which school you went to, your favorite color, and the like.
“I bet ya’ll hungry, huh?” You asked.
“Yeah!” They all said, loudly. You giggled and waved for them to follow you to the mess hall. Groups were following behind you, following the unspoken signal for lunch. You made them line up, grab a tray, and move down the line.
You told them where to sit and told them to get to know one another. You grabbed your tray and went to sit at the counselor’s table.
Dana was already there digging into her tray all neat and polite. She smiled when you sat down and you breathed a sigh of relief. You were out of the hot ass sun, finally had some water, and could eat. Why did you agree to this again?
“You know your boyfriend been checking you out all morning,” she said.
“Shut up with that,” you said and began eating.
“He has! Sharonda said he told Jason that you were fine as hell,” she said.
“And how did Sharonda hear that?” You asked.
“Supposedly, Keisha and Jason are a thing which is a little funny because Jamika said the same thing. But Keisha and Sharonda are bunk mates,” she said.
You shook your head. “Oh, you stay ear-hustling,” you said.
“I like information. I don’t care how I get it,” she said.
“Okay, so then who you got around here?” You asked.
“I’m still looking. They ain’t that fine compared to Mr. Saint,” Dana said.
“Ya’ll talkin’ about her boyfriend?” Jamika asked, coming up behind you. She dropped her tray onto the table and then scooted onto the bench. “I swear them girls already getting on my nerves. They gave me the bad little mu’fuckas,” she complained.
“Where are ya’ll getting this boyfriend from and why are ya’ll all in my business?” You asked.
“So there’s business to be had,” Jamika said and looked at Dana. “Told ya.”
Jamika sucked her teeth and sighed dramatically. She dug in her pocket and pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to Jamika.
“Ya’ll betting?” You demanded.
“I told her there was something between ya’ll. Ya’ll must’ve met before today or something because ya’ll literally can’t keep your eyes off of each other.”
“I said that ya’ll ain’t even had an opportunity to do anything or spend time together,” Dana said.
“Ya’ll are so foul!” You could only shake your head at the two girls who instantly clicked with you. Both were similar to each other, favoring each other’s tone and speaking in nearly the same mannerisms. They had never met and yet bonded like sisters. Somehow you got scooped up between them and you were so grateful.
“When he lookin’ that hard? There’s always something there,” Jamika said.
“What ya’ll betting on anyway?” You asked.
“We can’t tell you that. We can’t interfere,” Jamika said.
“Is everyone in on it?” You asked.
“Everybody but you,” Dana said, cackling loud and hi-fiving Jamika.
You shook your head, looking over to your cabin kids. They were actually talking which was a good sign but a few were still too quiet. Jamika sighed loudly as she did the same. There were two girls fussing at each other.
“Ain’t you gonna help?” Dana asked.
“Uh-uh, I wanna see who wins,” Jamika said, a little smirk on her lips.
On the opposite side of you, you felt a tug on your braid. You turned, ready to be mad when you saw Franklin’s wide grin and his pretty eyes. The heat died down in your chest as you sighed.
“Boy, you was finna get hurt,” you said.
“I ain’t scared of you,” he said. He scooted onto the bench with you, making you scoot over since you were on the end. Dana and Jamika threw knowing glances at each other.
“What are you doing, Franklin?” You asked.
“Came to see you. Ain’t had a chance all day,” he said.
You rolled your eyes, dabbing your lips with your napkin. Franklin straddled the bench, smiling at you. Just staring and smiling like he could do that all day long. It unnerved you when you looked at each other like this. But you watched him right back.
“Why are you really here?” You asked.
“We’re sitting next to each other at the bonfire right?” He asked.
“You pulled my hair just to ask me that?” You meant to sound playful and teasing, but your voice was quieter than that. Filled with some other emotion like expecting a different answer. As if hair-pulling was acceptable in a different context.
He seemed to see your thoughts and he smiled. “Just say I get to sit next to you,” he said. He leaned over and took one of your chips. You popped his hand and he yelped, rubbing his hand.
“I don’t play about my food,” you said. He laughed and shook his head, diving in for another one. You tried to pop his hand again but he kept moving it just before contact.
He gave you another panty-melting smile. “You are so pretty, did you know?” Franklin asked.
You rolled your eyes. He got on your nerves already and you had only known him four days. “I can’t control where you sit, but I wouldn’t mind it next to me,” you said.
Franklin knocked on the bench with a wide grin. He turned to Dana and Jamika. “Ladies,” he said.
He stood up and walked back to his table where the guys whooped and hollered from where they were sitting. You had a flashback to middle school, the same age as these kids, and you felt sick. You hated when so much attention was on you and now all of the counselors were gossiping about your so-called relationship with Franklin.
“Fuck, where do I get one of him?” Jamika asked.
“Right, like where his brother at?” Dana echoed. You all watched Franklin’s retreat and him talking to his buddies.
The rest of lunch was uneventful as you spoke about your groups and how you hoped the first activity went well. You cleaned up after yourselves and began to lead your groups out of the mess hall and across the land towards the activity side. There was an obstacle course set up with things to make these kids stretch their legs and build some friendships.
You walked alongside Franklin and he nudged you with his elbow. You nudged him back. You had family, you were no pushover. You lightly pushed each other all the way down to the course. You were not setting a good example for the kids.
At the course, Anne and Doug greeted everyone and told everyone about the course. She announced prizes at the end of each activity and at the month to the team with the highest scores. Anne and Doug would score the kids with input from their counselors. So it was all about playing fair and working with each other to win.
One of the counselors, Jason, showed how hard it was to get through the course alone. He was playacting for the kids. Jason was as tall as a tree with rich ebony skin and thick muscles. Basketball guy definitely. He was built for speed and agility but he struggled.
He returned to his group and Doug and Anne stated that they went in cabin order. Being last in line, you told the girls that they’d have a chance to search for weaknesses. They loved that idea and got a lot more interested in the rules. First, the cabin mates would introduce themselves to each other.
The girls turned completely shy, backing away from the boys. The boys returned in kind, eyeing each other with slightly nauseous faces.
“Come on guys, what do you say?” Franklin encouraged.
Reluctantly, a boy stepped forward and held out his hand. One of your girls did the same and they introduced themselves. You looked at Franklin. “Did you teach them that?” You asked.
“They were nervous about being here. I gave them some tips,” he said. He slanted his eyes towards you with a smirk.
You watched as the kids opened up and started talking. Anne and Doug got the course going with kids going through it and working off the food they ate. When everyone was done, prizes were handed out. That earned them a few hours to relax in the rec room. The counselors were free to rotate shifts and watch the kids.
It wasn’t your shift yet so you went to hang out with Dana and Jamika back in the cabins. The heat was killing you and you needed to cool off somewhere. You immediately searched for a scrunchie to get the fresh braids off of your neck.
“So we just not gon’ talk about Franklin asking our girl out?” Jamika asked.
You laughed with your friends up to the cabin while you dodged their questions about you and Franklin. Nerves bubbled in your gut thinking about the boy with the cute smile. You couldn’t describe this feeling between you but you knew that you wanted to explore it. If only you could do it in peace.
You stared up at the stars as you sat on your log. Anne and Doug were really going all out for the experience. These kids were in for a better treat than you ever got. You didn’t have fancy white people paying for your camp stay so they could pat themselves on the back. Selective performism wasn’t around when you were growing up.
The stars twinkled overhead, spattering the sky with little dots of light. There were more stars than you had ever seen in your life. Too much pollution where you lived and went to school.
You sat around the campfire with half of the larger group. Anne was with your group, asking the kids about what they thought of the camp so far. Some were excited and they went around in a circle saying what they liked about it.
You were among the first to get there. By the time Cabin 5 boys made it down, Cabin 2’s counselor was already sitting next to you.
“No!” Franklin said when he approached. “Aye, switch places with me,” he asked.
The girl, Michella, rolled her eyes and stood up with a smirk. She hi-fived her counterpart. He smirked at the two of you. Ugh. This was so fucking childish.
Anne missed all of it as she focused on getting her free feedback. Franklin was overwhelming. He wasn’t a big man, but he felt big. He felt larger than anyone else there. He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and listened to every kid speaking.
Every now and then, your knee would brush his. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose but it only made you ache and shiver. When he stretched, you couldn’t help ogling him. Those skinny but powerful arms. The groans he made when he went a little too far.
You licked your lips and hung your head. It wasn’t normal to be this attracted to someone, right? You wanted to snuggle into him and never leave. He could be annoying, but there were times where he seemed to be undressing you with his eyes.
While Anne was distracted, Franklin turned his eyes to you. “Meet me later?” He asked.
“Where? Lights out at 11 or didn’t you hear?” You asked.
“Break the rules with me, c’mon. They know we gon’ break ‘em,” he said.
You shook your head, fighting down little deranged bubbles of laughter. He wasn’t being intentionally funny, but you weren’t used to such persistence. You had your fair share of men interested in you. But it was hard trying to find worthy Black men among the sea of white people.
“I wanna see you, alone,” he said.
You tuned back into Anne who was giving some background on the camp and why it was named Camp Wanderlust.
“You know everyone is talkin’ about us and taking bets,” you said.
“So? I’m trynna bet on us too,” he said.
You shook your head. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You weren’t a goody-two-shoes but you were just as excited as the kids at being here at camp. Your mother never wanted you to go, hiding behind excuses like she thought you would be boy crazy after. Which was ridiculous. You were already married to Marcus Murray. You just knew he was going to be your husband forever. Until he moved away in second grade and you never heard from him again. You didn’t want anything to jeopardize you being here. Not even for the likes of Franklin Saint.
He smiled at you and turned to Anne.
“Of course, that’s nothing compared to…” Anne looked around her dramatically. “No, I can’t say his name. Anyone who says it gets taken in the night!”
You shared the Look with Michella and shook your head. You didn’t know who Anne thought she was fooling with this routine, but you supposed that it wouldn’t be a proper bonfire without scary stories.
You stood up with Franklin and went over to the cooler. You opened it, grabbing bags of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Franklin helped you, somehow managing to reach across you for everything. His arm grazed your tummy and you sighed. You tilted your head at him.
“Will you stop?” You asked.
“What?” He asked, innocent as a button. You were not fooled. He smiled at you, tilting his head back in response.
“You keep…you know,” you said.
“Tell me,” he said and stepped closer to you.
“Oh, you get on my nerves,” you said. You smiled at him.
“Meet me at Traveler,” he said.
You shook your head as you brought back the supplies towards the group. You began passing the bags around, picking up sticks that you had collected earlier. Anne continued her tale of the leader of the lost kids.
You were pretty sure she was talking about an evil Peter Pan but the kids didn’t seem to mind. Some were really engrossed in the story, looking over their shoulders towards the pitch black night.
She spun the tale of kids who got lost wandering in the dark by themselves. Snatching up anyone who calls them by name. She wasn’t going to say it for their safety. They absolutely must not go looking for his name on the plank where people had been signing their names for years. One signature is not like the rest and they must never seek it out.
The kids promised but you already saw some sneaky faces. Faces that screamed trouble. You fought a smile.
You took turns, trying to keep up the legend of this mysterious leader. No one knew who it was, it could be anyone out there. They could be right over someone’s shoulder and you wouldn’t know.
A few girls squealed. The boys were trying to seem cool, but you saw their eyes darting around as well. You munched on smores as tales were told and laughs were shared. The entire time, you were in sync with Franklin. If he moved, you moved. If he shifted, you did so as well. It was maddening.
The kids were dismissed to their cabins to unwind for an hour before bed. You walked your cabin back, Franklin walking beside you. He asked you about what you were studying. You told him your favorite subject and your face practically lit up talking about it.
You asked him what he was into. He said business. “Business! Why?” You asked.
He shrugged. “I got a mind for numbers. I can do something with that,” he said.
You really needed to get control of your dirty mind. When he said that, your mind instantly went to his lips. The moon poked through the trees and you were able to see him glow faintly silver. You licked your own, wondering what his lips would taste like. What his hands would feel like on you.
You dragged your gaze ahead of you. The overhead camp lights shone a giant spotlight on you and your group. You walked to each respective bunk and bid farewell to the kids. You crossed paths with Franklin once more as you walked to the counselor cabin.
Franklin’s hand brushed against yours. Your fingers tingled. As if it could already feel his hands tangling with yours. “Tonight?” Franklin asked.
“I’ll think about it!” You said and shook your head.
“You’re breaking my heart,” he said.
“Shut up!” You giggled. You went to your cabin, flopping onto your bed with a soft sigh. You brought the pillow to your face and squealed, questioning the butterflies in your stomach. You weren’t a teenager but, fuck, you felt like you were back in high school. Possibly earlier. Back to middle school where you couldn’t stop thinking about Chris Johnson and how sweet he was.
“Ugh, ya’ll need to go on and make it official. I need to win some real money around here,” Dana said. She emerged from the closet on her side.
These cabins were much smaller, big enough for two people and set up like a dorm room. You didn’t have that much money for school, it all went to books and classes. You weren’t able to stay on campus and you took the bus to and from the bastard.
“Stop,” you groaned.
“I don’t know why you leavin’ that man hanging like that,” she said. She was already dressed in her pj’s: sweats and a tank top. Your pjs were similar but you still weren’t sure if you were going to meet Franklin later or not.
It made you delirious to think about it. Sneaking off in the night. Wings took flight in your stomach. You flipped onto your back and placed your hands against your tummy. You had to see what he wanted, right?
It wasn’t to talk. You knew that much. He could be a gentleman all he wanted, but you weren’t that oblivious. You saw the way he looked at you or the way he found little ways to bother you. It was so childish but it grew on you as you formed an instant connection.
“I’m not trying to,” you told Dana.
“Look, we only here for four weeks. May as well have some fun and have something to tell your future grandkids,” she said.
You laughed and leaned onto your elbow to face her. “Why would I tell my grandkids I had something with some random boy at camp?”
“Because grandmas are always talkin’ out the side of they neck. I wanna be like my Grandma Sadie. She told us all kinds of things when my parents weren’t around,” she said.
“That’s why you’re so wholesome now,” you told her.
You talked and joked while Dana spread the latest camp gossip. You weren’t the only subject of people’s comments. People were already finding themselves tangled up with each other. Try as you might, you couldn’t get Jamika to see what a fuck nigga Jason was. She lost her collective marbles with him.
As it got later, your nerves got the best of you. You were hovering outside of the door, peeking out to see the distant house where Anne and Doug went to bed. There were still lights on in the house. Across from the house, there were similar bunks with the camp staff. Kitchen, groundskeeper, the like. Other volunteers who agreed to help watch the kids.
Your foot tapped against the wooden floor, your Converse beating a steady rhythm. Dana had explicitly told you to go while she drifted off to sleep. You took a deep breath and left the cabin. Your curiosity was going to eat you alive.
You scurried across the open courtyard heading toward Traveler bridge. The bridge itself crossed a small creek on a curve. You stopped at the entrance, under the light. You waited there, the chilly night and insects chirping making the woods seem creepier. Like Jason was going to pop out at any moment and go on a murdering spree. You should have brought a jacket. You rubbed your bare arms, feet shifting back and forth as you looked around you for any sign of Franklin. He wouldn’t tell you to meet him and then just not show up right?
“Hey, it’s Franklin,” Franklin whispered, making enough noise to let you hear him approach. You turned to face him, smiling softly at him.
“I’m glad you came. Took forever for my bunk mate to fall asleep,” he said.
He held out his hand and you took it, going over the bridge with him. There was a stretch of woods here, the trees loomed over you. Gnarled branches twisted and arched overhead, blocking out bits of the artificial light.
You reached the edge of the woods, where the trees broke up and allowed for a wider entrance towards the lake and the water supplies and equipment. Franklin stopped you from heading towards the dock.
He paused while the moon hit you two perfectly. You saw his face and how nervous he seemed. Franklin? Nervous?
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“You’re pretty cute too,” you said with a smile. He moved his hands to your hips, fingers sliding down your sides to loop his fingers through your belt loops. He pushed you backwards until your back gently hit a tree wide enough to accommodate you.
Franklin stared into your eyes. “I ain’t the only one feeling this, am I?” He asked.
He threaded his hand through your left one, watching as the pale light played over your combined hands. You swore your hand was electric from touching him. Little zips of energy flowed between you. Your body was learning him. Learning how he moved and spoke, resonated with his energy to match.
“No. Is it crazy?” You asked.
“Absolutely crazy. I like talkin’ to you,” he said.
He leaned down but didn’t kiss you. His lips hovered just there, just out of reach. He was so tall and broad, your hands came around his shoulders. You couldn’t stop grasping him. Your body heated up from the inside out. Your mouth dried feeling him beneath your fingers.
He let you explore his body. You were too shy to go further, to truly explore him. His hands stayed respectfully on your hips.
“I want to know everything,” he said.
You giggled. “We’d be here all night,” you said.
“Shit, I can lose some sleep,” he said.
You shook your head. “Are we going down to the dock or not?” You had did this yesterday too. Sneaking out while everyone was supposed to be sleep. You were sure that other couples were doing the same thing. Finding hidden spots that no one would stumble across at this time of night.
“I just wanted to look at you,” he said. He smiled and you couldn’t help smiling back. He didn’t even have to say anything and he had your lips curling, your tongue sliding across your teeth, and your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.
You were lost in the world of Franklin and you didn’t mind. You would gladly stay in his orbit if he kept looking at you like that. Like he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, listening to you speak.
He finally moved away, allowing oxygen to flow to your brain once more. You shook off his subtle clean scent. He tugged you by the hand towards the dock. Your shoes clanged against the loose boards. It was a wonder the damn thing didn’t collapse by now.
Franklin let you sit down first. You took off your shoes and socks, dangling them over the dock. The water was a little out of reach. Only your toes graced the surface of the icy water. Franklin joined you, taking off his own shoes and socks. He sat back a little, his legs a bit longer than yours.
He sat close, close enough for you to feel every rise and fall of his chest. His shoulders grazed against yours and you had to sit on your hands to keep from reaching out and touching him like you owned him.
You spent an hour or so there, talking and learning about his aunt and uncle. His momma working for a piece of shit real estate agent. How he wanted to find a good paying job where his mom could retire and he could take care of her.
You didn’t bother asking about his dad. From the way he spoke about his mom, it was clear he wasn’t in the picture. You told him about your family, your schoolwork, and how hard it was to always be on stage while at school.
You bonded about how students and teachers alike didn’t know what to make of you. They didn’t know what kind of Negro you were. The loud type? The ignorant type? The quiet, good ones that they were comfortable reaching for your hair or asking intrusive questions? It felt good to bond with someone over these things.
Franklin was able to stay on campus but he hardly spent time in his rooms. He could be found in the library somewhere, doing his work like a true little nerd.
“You won’t hold it against me, will you?” He asked.
He sounded so adorable when he asked you that you shook your head. You leaned back, resting on your hands, as you looked at the stars above you. They were breathtaking. The air was clearer. You wished you could afford this much land. That you could have a place to yourself where no one else was allowed.
A private lake where you could do anything you wanted. You could swim naked for all you wanted and no one would be around to stop you. Perhaps not such a big land though. You wouldn’t know what to do if a psycho killer came crashing out of the woods.
“Nah, you good,” you said. He matched your stance, looking skyward. He then turned his head. You turned to look at him as well, not realizing just how close you were. His eyes dipped towards your lips.
You licked them absently and his eyes tracked the movement. You found yourself leaning forward, closing the distance towards those lips of his. They looked so big and juicy and were probably warm.
He rested his head against yours, smiling against your lips. “Let me kiss you,” he said.
It wasn’t a question but you smiled and nodded. He crossed that final distance, that tiny gap keeping you apart, He sighed against your lips. His big, warm hand reached up to cup your neck.
His fingers feathered across your pulse points. You felt your heartbeat there, beating wildly against his fingers. His lips were even more heavenly. His other hand cupped the other side of your neck. His long fingers slid through your braids.
You were lightheaded. Dizzy with pleasure as your lips tingled against his. Shivers ran down your spine. Your hands rested on his forearms, holding onto each other as you gave in to this thing between you. This all consuming thing that made you push forward, press against him, trying to get closer than what you already were.
Your harsh breaths seemed to echo in the still night. The sounds of the woods were muted here, lending itself to a type of quiet that you never experienced. There was always a plane or helicopter overhead. Some type of siren or dog barking.
It was hard as hell to go to sleep in a place so quiet. It was eerie. You kept expecting to hear a gunshot disguised as a firework. Here, there were just your loud and racing thoughts picturing this exact moment.
Franklin’s tongue danced with yours. Sweeping across your lips and diving back into your mouth to taste more of you. His breath was faintly minty. Even after dinner and the smores.
Your pussy throbbed. Beating in time with your wild heartbeat. You felt him everywhere. All over your skin. Every kiss had an answering call in your tummy. Every squeeze around your neck you felt down to your toes.
You reluctantly drew away at the same time, panting and turning drunk eyes on each other. “I’ve been dreamin’ about that,” he said. His head rested against your once more. You huffed, breathing each other in.
“Same here. I felt like that should've helped dull this,” you said.
After your taste, you wanted more. You wanted to keep going. You wanted him to lay you down and unzip your shorts. Or makeout with you while his hands explored under your shirt. To rub your aching nipples that were straining beneath your bra for any type of stimulation.
“Ain’t gon’ happen,” he said. He pecked your lips. But a quick peck turned into two and then three until you were moving into his lap. You straddled him and kissed under the stars. It was just you and him.
Him gripping your thighs and squeezing them for dear life. You running your hands around his back. Your lips crashing against each other over and over, like waves crashing against a shore. You felt weightless in his arms. He hadn’t looked all that sturdy under that skinny frame, but he handled you with ease.
He squeezed your ass and you groaned, couldn’t help yourself from grinding on his crotch. He was thick, warm, and solid under you. He was pressing against your core but there wasn’t enough friction.
You found a natural break again, opening your eyes to look at him and smile. It still was nowhere near enough but it would have to be. You had already been out too late. You were going to be so tired in the morning.
“We should get back,” he whispered.
You licked your swollen lips and nodded. Fuck, you wanted to keep going. Wanted to know how far he would push you.
“Will you meet me tomorrow too?” He asked.
You bit your lip but nodded. “I’ll meet you tomorrow, too,” you said. The other counselors be damned. It wasn’t like they weren’t around, confessing their own feelings. Or already hooking up. Clothes flying in the heat of the moment.
“Let me walk you to your cabin,” he said.
His hands slowly slid from your hips to your sides to help you maneuver off of him. You stood and he stood up after, taking your hand and walking with you back to your cabin. His cabin was further down and you thanked him for the sweet gesture.
He tapped his cheek for a kiss. Your cheeks hurt from trying to hide another smile. He got on your damn nerves. You pecked his cheek, your lips lingering for a fraction too long. “Good night, Franklin,” you said.
“Good night,” he said. Your name fell from his lips softly, sacredly.
You gave a small wave and went inside, closing the door and resting your back against it. You were still so lightheaded. Drunk on his kisses and needing more. Dana was still fast asleep so you changed and slipped into bed as quiet as you could.
You didn’t know how you were going to sleep tonight but you hoped that Franklin would dream of you too.
There's always more Franklin to explore: The Secret Franklin Saint Files | Part 2
#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Franklin Saint Files#Franklin x Black!reader#Franklin x Black reader#Franklin x reader#x Black reader#Black reader#Franklin x Fem!reader#Franklin x Fem reader#Franklin x you#Snowfall fanfic#Snowfall fan fic#Snowfall fanfiction#Franklin Saint#Franklin Saint fanfic#Franklin Saint fanfiction#Franklin Saint fan fiction#Franklin Saint fan fic#Camp Counselor!Franklin#Camp Counselor Franklin Saint
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🍀Clay🍀
First Encounter
Five trolls walked into an abandoned Bergen golf course. Poppy and pastel blue troll with a brown afro clung to each other as they walked through the eerie golf course. "Are we sure that he's here." Y/N said getting closer to her friend. "WHO GOES THERE!" Everyone screamed into terror as a giant clown glowed bright red talking to them. Y/N and Poppy ran and hid behind JD. "What the hell! You hoping it eats me before you two!" He shouted at the two girls. "Better you then us!" Y/N shouted back, making the other two brothers chuckle.
"Look we want no clown trouble.... We're just looking for our older brother Clay!" Branch exclaimed stepping forward. "Wait you five are trolls?" The clown asked. "So what you're a clown!" Branch retorted back. Suddenly the mouth of the clown opened wide and a golf ball jumped down the tongue. The five trolls stared confused. The golf ball popped open and stood before then was a female pink trolls with blonde hair. Y/N looked between her and her younger friend back and forth. 'They look like each other." She thought. "Well hellooo, My names Viva, it's so fantastamazing to meet other trolls!" She exclaimed rushing forward gushing over all of them. "Is she like Poppy's doppelganger?" Y/N whispered to Bruce making him laugh. "I think so." He agreed earning a glare from Branch.
"Are you hungry, thirsty? Fries, Fries I see fries! Bring out the works!" Suddenly they were all surrounded by fries, milkshakes, hot dogs and pizza the other trolls brought out. Viva downed a milkshake. "Great now I have some energy!" Viva shouted. Viva suddenly flew past Y/N and Poppy. Poppy looked up at Y/N and vice versa. "Did you just braid our hair!" Poppy exclaimed jumping up and down, while Y/N stared in disbelief.
"These fries are amazing! They'd really go great with a burger." Bruce said munching away. Suddenly there was a scream and all the other trolls ran away. "Whaaat isss happening...?" Y/N and Bruce said in unison. "We don't say that word, cause burger sounds to much like Bergen." Viva whispered nodding. "We call burgers! Meat circles." The 6 trolls turned round and saw Clay standing above them. "Clay!" The three brothers exclaimed. Clay went over to Bruce first and did an handshake with him, catching up. "Clay!" John shouted jumping forward opening his hand for a hug. "Hmm, John." Clay said bluntly. Poppy and Y/N watched the everything unfold while giggling.
"OMG Baby Branch!" Clay exclaimed running over. Finally Y/N saw Clay up close and stared at him. He's cute in person. Clay was her favourite in the band. She watched as he squished his face. "Anyway, Clay this is Poppy." Poppy jumped forward hugging the middle brother. As she asked him to do the robot and he did his "well-oiled robot" saying it's no fun Y/N giggled, catching the tall trolls attention. "It still kinda looks fun though." She said smiling at Clay. "Oh Clay, this is Y/N my best friend." Poppy said pushing her friend forward, making her stumble into his chest. The two trolls went wide eyed and turned away from each other blushing, muttering sorry to each other. JD and Bruce smirked at each other.
As time went on Clay's brothers explained about Floyd. "Okay let's go!" Branch exclaimed grabbing Poppy's hand running towards the exit. "No you can't leave you just got here, let me show you around!" Viva shouted, grabbing Poppy's other hand pulling her out of Branch's grip. Suddenly Poppy, Y/N and Branch's hug time bracelets went off. "Hug time!" Viva shouted hugging Poppy. John tried to hug everyone by pushing Y/N into Clay arms wide open. Y/N push JD away. "Nuh-huh!" Was all she said crossing her arms, making Clay chuckle. He was intrigued by this troll.
It wasn't until Viva was staring into Poppy's face walking towards when the other trolls noticed what was going on. "Sorry, who's your father?" Viva asked. "Uh- King Peppy." Poppy answered cautiously. Viva started to twirl Poppy around saying she couldn't believe she was alive. Everyone looked confused. "Poppy I'm your sister!"
Before everyone knew it Poppy and Viva started singing. Soon the Brozone bros started singing together. Y/N felt out of place, like an intruder. Clay looked over and saw how Y/N stood off from everyone. Clay walked over and grabbed her hand. Y/N looked at their hands and up to the back of his head. "You should sing and dance with us." He said not turning around. Y/N smiled up at the troll, because his back was to her she didn't see the slight blush forming on his face. As they sang Y/N and Clay danced together laughing.
Timeskip
The trolls ran into Ronda. Y/N sat on the couch waiting for Poppy and Branch to come inside. She felt the couch dip down. She turned to her side seeing Clay sat next to her. They smiled at each other being comfortable in each other presence.
A/N: I didn't realize how long this one is. I love me some Clay and I kinda got carried away. Hope you like it. I don't know why but I've always seen Clay being with a sassy troll. I don't know why.
@pendephoebe
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A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 11 Don't say it
The blue sapphire sparkled with newly acquired shine, after being meticulously cleaned by the tall gray feline. No one, not a soul would be able to tell that it was in fact just a synthetic gem. She had a few real ones, sure, but those were just there to fool the more...knowledgeable patrons. Speaking of customers, she had expected there to be more, considering the huge sale in the biggest department store of the metro, it lured in all kind of interesting clientele, but so far, not a soul.
The Empress reached for a long golden necklace with a large ruby pendant, one of the few real gems she had. She started to clean the accessory when something red and black entered her peripheral vision. When she turned her head to see who it was, she froze for a moment. It was someone she hadn't seen in a while, an old friend of hers.
“Emmy, darling, it really IS you!” That huge afro, that stylish red jacket, and even those star shades. The penguin in front of her was undoubtedly her old friend, DJ Grooves. He entered the premises with a spring to his step, one that was very familiar to her. The cat hardly reacted to the way he practically danced over to the counter. She was quite conflicted, she had missed her old friend, sure, but the 'business' she ran now was one that the penguin was better off not knowing about. For his sake and her own.
“DJ Grooves, it had been a while, hasn't it? What brings you here.” The penguin started to lean against the jewelry case right next to her counter, his expression was nearly unreadable, due to his shades, but his tone made it clear.
“Whatever happened to Groovsie, darling? I really adored that fabulous nickname.-” He let his gaze wander around the store, marveling at the lavish décor and tasteful interior design of his friend. “-I never would have guessed that one of your dreams was to open a fancy jewelry store, darling, but I have to say this place is truly AMAZING!”
“Thank you. How have you been?” The question left her mouth before she could even process it, the sooner he left the better, but at the same time, she really did wonder how he was faring. The penguin rose a flipper in a dismissive manner.
“Same as ever, darling. My beloved penguins do their best, but are unfortunately terrible at acting, critics like to tear my beautiful pieces of art to shreds, and-” His already low pitched voice lowered even further as his flipper turned into a fist. “-my 'darling' of a rival just loves to be a thorn in my side every step of the way.” His anger dissolved into sadness, a look that the normally upbeat penguin did not wear well.
She knew she would regret saying what she was about to say, but she couldn't see him like that, it was bad for...business if anyone would walk by and see a person almost crying in her store.
“Remember our old handshake, Groovsie?” The penguin lit up immediately.
“Of course, darling. I'd never forget that handshake!” He climbed onto the case and sat down on top of it, which caused her to glare at him.
“Would you not sit down on the case, it's quite valuable!” He only chuckled.
“We both know that you and me are of the most value in the whole metro.” He gave her wink, before stretching out his flipper toward her.
She sighed, she really brought that upon himself, didn't she. She lightly hit the outside of his flipper with her palm and when swung it back to hit his flipper again. After that they basically fist bumped, before raising their arms a bit into the air and letting them come back down slowly, while she moved her claws up and down quickly like she pretended to rain glitter.
“That was amazing, darling, or how you used to say it-” Please don't say it- Please don't say it!
She cringed as the word left his beak, and put her paws up to hide her face in anguish. “-Anyazing!”
“AAAAAAHHH!!”
@r3d1ke @majormeilani
I hope that this turned out alright, and you could get some enjoyment out of reading it. I had a lot of fun writing these two. Thanks again for the idea!
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ID: A meme-pic in 3 panels about the anime adaption of the light novel “Harem in the Labyrinth of Another World” and the forensic-focused police procedural “CSI: Miami”.
Panel 1: Roxanne, one slave and harem-member of the protagonist, inspects a sword and says “You’re entrusting your life to your equipment.”
Panel 2: Roxanne is still inspecting it and says “You should keep it properly maintained.”
Panel 3: The “Epic Handshake” meme of a black and white man shaking hands ( this meme implies that two sides agree or would have agreed about something). The arm of an afro-american man on the left side is captioned with “Roxanne” and the arm of a white man on the right side is captioned with “Horatio”, the “handshake” is captioned with “Speedle died because he was a sloppy idiot.” This references the death of the CSI character “Tim Speedle” who died when his service gun malfuntioned because he didn’t clean it regularly.
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Episode 1: the boy from the opposite line
I had just wrapped up a Hinge date over tapas and drinks at Bar Topa from Palings Lane. My 'date' had shown me his share and cryptocurrency portfolio and 20 mins later I had left him with a bottle of lager and his 'net-worth' for the train station at 7pm.
Nestling myself on a train from Wynyard with my book in tow, a stranger settled next to me and flashed out a novel. He pointed at our book covers, "Same title. Same author. What are the odds?"
I wanted to tell him he was mistaken. Nothing about our books were the same. I was about to point out his error when he raised his hand towards mine for a handshake.
"I digress. Our books are not the same. I just wanted to find an excuse to talk to you" he murmured as he rubbed his palms over his black trousers when his offer for a handshake went unanswered a little too late.
I was about to respond when I saw him about to leave. Instantly, my hand gripped his forearm encased in a black lamé shirt sleeve and replied "I'm happy to do a book swap."
Leaning down to sit, I saw a glimmer of his silver necklace over his black turtleneck and the shimmer of his lamé shirt. It dazzled me. He had yet to dismiss my hand from his sleeve and I felt he wouldn't.
Beaming, he replied "I will gladly read Ana Huang's 'Twisted Love' in exchange for your review of Stieg Larsson's 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo’. You can tell me why you like Ana’s novels.”
"What station is yours? I'd hate to over-talk."
"Green Square, opposing lines. I saw you at Wynyard and thought I'd take a gambit. If it failed I'd change trains" he shrugged as he ruffled his tanned hand through his short black afro curls. "I actually don't mind staying on this train until you leave. I want to hear you talk about your book."
NB: My hand hadn't left his forearm even after two return train trips to the city and back.
#romance#short story#urbanfiction#contemporary romance#contemporary rom#new adult#new adult fiction#slice of life#romcom#short fiction#short fic#flash fiction#flash fic#urban stories#storytelling#narrative#first person narrative
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Enox J. Rios became an Iyawo this past April. And so for a year and seven days he must only dress in white. He is to eat all his meals on the floor. He is forbidden from looking into a mirror and cannot be outside after dark. He’s also not allowed to make any physical contact with the uninitiated. That means no handshakes.
As Yawo, Rios is a newly ordained priest of an ancient diaspora religion brought to Cuba by Congolese slaves. From Cuba it spread throughout the Caribbean, to the Dominican Republic, Colombia, Venezuela, and later to the US. It’s called Palo Mayombe, and its dark rituals involving human and animal remains and even grave robbing, is practiced in extreme secrecy. Like another Afro-Caribbean religion, Santeria, thousands of Latino New Yorkers are adherents of this syncretic faith which involves ritual dance, song, and drumming.
Botanica Babalu in the Bronx. Photo by Neil Giardino.
Rios is the owner of Botanica Babalu, a folk medicine shop in the Bronx that sells spiritual herbs, candles, and statues of saints. It’s a one-stop for Palo accessories including medicinal plants for aura cleansing. “This is a place I like to think of for healing and guidance,” he said.
As a palero, Enox said he has been ordained or “crowned” ocha. This means that an Orisha, or holy being of his faith, is aligned with his inner head. In essence, it gives him the ability to act as a spiritual medium.
“It’s very dark. Very draining. But if it’s used for the betterment of the people and for protection, it is amazing,” said Rios.
The spirits that paleros are in contact with are both ancestral and of the natural world. Worship for paleros like Rios centers on communication with these deities by using iron or clay pots called ngangas. The nganga is to a palero what an alter is to a Catholic priest. Palo means stick in Spanish. And that’s what goes into the pot along with earth and bones. But that’s not all that goes into a gnanga.
“You want the spirit to keep you safe from a gun, to keep you safe from a machete, from a blade, somebody pulling out a blade on you. So we implement all those things in the pot,” explains Rios.
Palo faithful believe that a spirit of the dead also lives inside. The spirits of Palo communicate through ordained mediums like Rios. Earthly items like guns or knives help the palero channel these spirits and summon protection from them. Clients pass through his doors seeking spiritual cleansing. He offers spiritual baths with medicinal herbs. Rios claims his prices are lower than other botanicas. “I’m here to give back. I remember having cancer, looking for some kind of positivity, some kind of light, some kind of hope to keep me going. And so that’s what I try to do.”
One patron needs a blessing before a job interview. Another isn’t coping with a death in the family. Some are trying to keep their marital vows sacred. Requests to keep husbands or wives faithful are common. Rios said instead he focuses on light and healing. But he explains that some paleros not only overcharge in times of crisis, but also use the spirits in their ngangas recklessly, to harm or worse.
A scale for medicinal herbs is hung above a holy statue at Botanica Babalu. Photo by Neil Giardino.
“You can kill with a nganga. That’s how dark it is. It’s like a dog. Somebody comes into your back yard and your dog is trained. If that dog gets loose, who knows what you’re going to be in by the time they get the dog off of you,” he said.
Palo is almost always linked to Santeria. And ritual music and dance is fundamental to both. There is one main distinction: Santeria comes from the Yoruba people from Nigeria and Palo Mayombe comes from the Congo. Since Congolese slaves were brought to the Caribbean much earlier than the Yoruba, it’s harder to trace their music and culture directly back to Africa. In other words, Palo’s African origins are darker and more mysterious.
Peter Manuel is a professor in the department of Art and Music at John Jay College who has written extensively about music of the Caribbean. “Palo songs have some Congolese words in them, but mixed with a lot of Spanish. It’s just more syncretic and more acculturated,” he said. Manuel added that although the often feverish dance, pounding drums, and call and response incantations of Santeria and Palo are similar, tracing Santeria to the Yoruba is much easier because these Nigerian slaves were brought to the Caribbean as late as the 19th century. That direct line between Palo and the Congo is much more indistinct.
One similarity in both Palo and Santeria is ritual sacrifice. Every so often news about sacrifice of animals makes headlines in Greater New York City. When asked about this, Enox J. Rios is unequivocal. “This is an Afro-Caribbean religion and it’s one of the oldest religions. This is the way it’s been done. It’s tradition. But there’s room for growth.” he said.
And as an initiated Yawo of Palo Mayombe, Rios will now embark on his year and seven days of austerity as an ordained palero. He acknowledges the darkness of his religion, but says he’ll continue to use it for the sake of wellness and healing.
“There is bad and there is good in everything. Palo is heavy but at Botanica Babalu it’s used for love, stability, and everything that is positive.”
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poem i read at an open mic tonight!:
There’s a lot of people coming into themselves writing
Words about girls filled with flowers and lace
And let’s be so real here:
This is a piece about loving women, but…
I like dykes.
This is for the person in break dancing class with the best style – piercings, afro, cargo pants, chain
Sick with a cold so I had to abstain, observing
Trying to watch without staring
‘Cause yeah, no one can make amateur breakin’ look cool,
But…
2000s thrifted tee, taken off to reveal a form fitting one underneath,
Tip of boxers showing from the waistband
Don’t know that I’ll ever learn to do that headstand
This is for the trans girl in Target the other day,
Which I specify not to objectify
But with all these the nonconformity is attractive to me
So I hope she didn’t think I was trying to sexualize
I just liked the way her tattoos showed leaning over the shopping cart
Talking to her friends in the candy row
This is for her even if she never texts that number
This is for my “casual hookup”
Who asked me if I like to win or lose,
And I said I liked the fight
The second time they asked,
I said I liked to win enough that I think I’ll never lose,
And then I like to lose
The third time,
That’s not what they asked
They asked what we were going to do
‘Cause they didn’t wanna break my heart
And I said I liked to lose
This is for their girlfriend, one of them,
Who likes me ‘cause I use Firefox and DuckDuckGo,
And it’s for the only stranger who didn’t annoy me
Making a song request at my party,
So bossy about their request
That instead of a dismissal I gave her a handshake and my name,
Halloween costume with an open button down, tie,
And it’s for the hot new politics professor who just walked by
And distracted me from this writing,
And it’s for that girl I fell in love with for a day in London,
‘Cause I like ‘em cocky and kind
And it’s for all the girls on this campus who more importantly than just nice
Show the world how to be tough, funny, and raunchy
This is for the fucking dykes
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novel The Bloodline System - Chapter 340 - A Full Table count hollow propose-p2
Marvellousfiction Timvic - Chapter 340 - A Full Table store price quote-p2
Novel-The Bloodline System-The Bloodline System
Chapter 340 - A Full Table error rich
'Who's this?' Ria and Teemee been curious about because they stared at E.E.
Gustav could already convey to who it turned out from your speech. He was obviously a minimal taken aback as he changed around to look.
"Yo Gustav,"
"Yeah, Matilda invited me, and i also was like, this may be a wonderful time to venture to your area prior to we leave behind for camping to teach for years in solitude. Why not?" E.E responded which has a laugh.
-"Did he say E.E..?"
He didn't even wake up when Ria and Teemee turned up. Ria and Teemee happened to come from significant families, however he acted nonchalantly with them while the not known man or woman who recently came was made welcome more warmly.
Drawing near their kitchen table was actually a good looking-appearing younger chap using a bushy afro hairstyle and easy melanin skin.
He realized adequately precisely how the major people act as he got their start in one themself. Even though Ria have also been the son of any perfectly-renowned family members inside the location, he didn't act like it. He was what type who just enjoyed to carry out things anyhow without nurturing relating to the results of his behavior.
"E.E?" Gustav exclaimed.
-"An additional top rated fifty worldwide individual,"
"I believed it turned out you," Ria voiced out while he stared at Gustav.
Her position enticed the interest of many company, just like Ria and Teemee.
"Hmm... Perhaps..." Ahead of Angy could comprehensive her sentence, a different person voiced from regarding.
"Angy," Glade hugged Angy also and rubbed her your hair affectionately.
"Your spit is approaching all the way up in this article. When would you like to learn how to be quiet?"
"Matilda may have invited everyone," Glade mentioned as she got a chair beside Angy.
"You travelled from halfway globally to become right here," Gustav stated as they quite simply sat.
"I understood it was subsequently you," Ria voiced out because he stared at Gustav.
-"
"In addition, this kitchen table is booked, why then are available still two extra seating on this page?" Teemee requested while looking at the unfilled seating.
Ria reached their relaxing position and sat down on the seat opposing Gustav.
-"Does he say E.E..?"
"Filthy high in volume mouth... I didn't imagine Matilda would encourage you will also," Glade mentioned as she appeared well before their desk.
"Matilda may have welcomed anyone," Glade mentioned as she had a seat beside Angy.
"Yeah, Matilda invited me, so i was like, this is an excellent time to check out your city well before we abandon for camp out to train for years in solitude. Do you know why not?" E.E replied by using a teeth.
This built them contemplate just who he was.
Everybody made around to stare at who possessed just appeared.
"Nicely, he's not the only one from another city attending this accumulating, once you discover a few things i mean,"
Ria arrived at their sitting down position and sat upon the seat opposite Gustav.
"Eh?" Ria squinted his eyes when he looked into the future.
His smile designed him appearance quite self-confident and approachable.
"But have you thought about the other chair?" Teemee asked while still staring at each empty seats.
"Who cares about loved ones feud... They may be them, therefore we are ourself. He's not a mankind if he doesn't dare to go to the party after being given an invite," Ria voiced out as he folded away his hands and leaned his back resistant to the couch by using a repressed phrase.
"Whats up gentleman, the method that you carrying out?" E.E reached along to give Gustav a handshake when he emerged just before them.
"Who cares about family feud... They may be them, and then we are our selves. He's not just a man if he doesn't dare to go to the get together after being given an invitation," Ria voiced out when he folded his biceps and triceps and leaned his back against the couch which has a repressed expression.
'Who's this?' Ria and Teemee pondered when they stared at E.E.
Novel
"Matilda seems to have invited anyone," Glade claimed as she got a seating beside Angy.
One other well known feminine speech might be noticed from powering.
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fixated ✰ s. aizawa
aizawa takes interest after you, but he doesn’t really know how to go about it.
genre: fluff, some smut in the second part! fem!reader
warnings: two parter!! aizawa has a CRUSHHHH, he pins after you heavily, counselor!reader. zawa used to have a thing with ms joke, black!reader
a/n: this idea was super cute so i had to write it. i hope you guys like it!!
requested: yes!!
part 2 (coming soon)
Aizawa has never been one for dating. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a relationship.
Back in high school, when he sat in the very desks his students sat in, he was often teased at by Mic about getting a partner. The hero tried to set him up on dates, give random people his number and all types of other methods, but Aizawa was just never interested. No one really caught his attention that way... until Fukukado came along.
She was everything he despised. She was loud, she talked too much, and she never took anything serious. But somehow she made her way into his cold heart and he indulged in her.
He enjoyed his time with her. Underneath all that goofiness she was a sweet woman who cared deeply for her job and her students. Aizawa felt emotions he had never felt with her, and was a bit peeved when they split. However, they remained friends. Since then, he hasn’t bothered dating with anyone.
“Have you seen the new counselor?!” Aizawa opened one eye to see Kaminari and Sero gushing as they entered the class. “She’s sooo hot. And she’s foreign!”
“Doesn’t she speak English and Japanese fluently though? She’s smart and attractive, jeez.” Sero huffed, and Aizawa furrowed his brow, zipping down his zipper on his yellow sleeping bag.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Miss L/N!” They both yelled, making Aizawa blink. “She’s our new counselor. She said parents were complaining that the students mental health wasn’t being cared about enough, so U.A hired her. She’s from America too.”
“America.” Aizawa groaned. He already had an image in his own eyes—a stereotypically one, but oh well. You probably had blonde hair and blue eyes. There was probably nothing special about you at all. His students weren’t as used to foreigners, so of course they would find you attractive.
Throughout the entire day he kept hearing his students chatter about you. About how kind you were, how pretty your voice sounded, how you looked so unique. He was getting peeved—why was everyone so hung up on you?
He carried the thought with him until the end of the day, when he headed down the hall to what seemed to be your room, just as you were leaving.
And—wow. He really understood why everyone was talking about you.
You weren’t blonde haired, blue eyed at all. Your hair was in a fluffy afro, like Mina’s but kinkier. You had the most supple brown skin and dark eyes that lit up when they caught his. His eyes widened a bit at just how radiating you seemed, your multi colored lips raising into a smile.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Aizawa! I’m L/N,” you spoke, your hand pushing out to shake his. He shook your hand silently, noting at how warm your palm was against his cold one. “I’ve heard a lot about you from your students!”
“You’ve met them?” he asked, voice deep with shock.
“Ahh, well, they kind of pranked me earlier,” you said sheepishly. “They came banging on my door and said there was a fire, and that I needed to leave as soon as I could. But then they said they were just joking when I was about to jump out my window,” you laughed, shaking your head. “They’re pretty goofy huh?”
Aizawa couldn’t help but note at how good your Japanese was. He knew English and Japanese were two different languages—you must’ve been pretty smart and hardworking to learn it.
“Well, I have to go do paperwork at my apartment-hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” you smiled once again. Aizawa only nodded and then you were off, with his eyes burning into your back.
His fists clenched. You were much more attractive than he originally imagined. But he wasn’t going to indulge—he knew that would only end badly.
Right?
The next day, Aizawa heard the same chatter about you. And the next. And the next. He didn’t see you again until about a week later, when he saw you chatting with Midnight and Mic in the lunch line. He cringed—the two were notorious for gossiping and he really hoped they weren’t telling you anything stupid.
“And then I—aye yo, Zawa! Good afternoon! Have you met L/N?!” Mic screamed, and Aizawa’s eyes went to meet yours ago. Your hair was styled differently to the point where he could see your eyes better, and it framed your face so nicely. You waved at him and he smiled sheepishly.
“We were just talking about our high school days~” Midnight’s voice rang out. “American high school is reaaaally different from Japanese high school, according to L/N.”
“The students here are really well behaved, especially in Aizawa’s class,” you smiled at him. “You’re doing a damn good job with them. They’re some of the most charming students I’ve seen! The ones in American high school can be really rude and nasty... I haven’t experienced any of that here. It’s nice.”
Aizawa breathed shakily. Thank god his students weren’t embarrassing him.
“L/N here’s got a degree in psychology and all that mental stuff!” Mic yelled once again as you all moved down the lunch line. “She understands da brain! We really needed someone like her here, with all the breakdowns our students have!”
Aizawa huffed. Teachers, too.
“I’m here for everyone,” you spoke. “Students, teachers, even the Recovery Girl if she’s got a lot on her mind. I’m just here to help everybody as much as I can.”
“Aizawa needs some of that help fo sure!” Mic yelled, smiling so hard all of his long, white teeth showed. “Motherheffa never talks to anyone about his feelings, keeps em balled up! That’s not healthy!”
Aizawa’s ears turned red. “No, I don’t need-“
“I’ll help ya!” you offered, moving so your body was right next to his. He couldn’t help but inhale your scent—it was strong and sweet, something he’d never smelled before. “Don’t worry—whatever we discuss in my room stays in my room. It’s something I pledged to do when I became a therapist.”
Aizawa laughed nervously, shaking his head. “I really don’t-“
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna have a session immediately, no worries,” you shrugged. “But I’m here whenever you need me. I have more work to do later, but I’ll see you guys later!”
And then you were off, with Aizawa’s eyes still on your back.
“You’re staring pretty hard Aizawa,” Midnight raised perfectly done eyebrows. “She’s pretty—I would stare too.”
“Be quiet.” He spluttered, his ears still red as he made his way back to his classroom to eat.
Another week had passed of Aizawa admiring you from afar. You always came into work with a smile on your face, greeting students with handshakes and hugs—the hugs threw him off a bit, but Kaminari told him it was an “American thing.” He didn’t know how much he would daydream about it until he started to long for hugs from you, thinking of how your arms would wrap around his middle before class.
He wasn’t obsessed with you, no, but rather infatuated. You were intelligent and easy to approach, and your appearance matched your personality. He was attracted to you but due to him not having a relationship in years and also not having the best social skills, he had no idea how to approach you. He didn’t even know much about you. His students knew you more than he did and you were his age! It made no sense.
Time after time during the third week of you being here he tried to talk to you. During lunch, when Midnight and Mic would force you all to sit together, he would want to open his mouth but he couldn’t. He’d come by your room to start conversations after school but the most he’d say was “have a good evening, L/N.” and leave you alone. He even found your social media and took a quick look through your pictures—leaving your page when he saw you in a bikini, his cheeks red.
By the time the fourth week came around, his students and his work buddies were noticing his changes in behavior. He was getting distracted much more than before and whenever someone would mention your name he’d go scarily silent and look deep in thought. It wasn’t until Mina chatted with the rest of the Bakusquad that his students actually began to do something about it.
“Miss L/N!” you heard Jirou’s voice rang out from your doorway, with some other students from Class 1-A coming in behind you. “Good evening~”
“Good evening Jirou! Hey everyone,” you smiled warmly at the students that were entering your classroom, confused as how many of them were coming in. “What’s up...?”
You had formed a pretty close relationship with the class of 1-A during your short time here. You had sessions with most of them and got to know their personalities and feelings pretty well—even Bakugo, who was closed up and rude at first, but eventually shed a few tears in your room.
“Mr. Aizawa said he needed your help with planning lessons today—he said he’s asked everyone else and they’re all busy,” Mina told you, and your brows furrowed in confusion. Aizawa needs help from... you? That was odd. “He needs you to come by as soon as possible!”
“Oh! Well, alright,” you laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you stood up and grabbed your phone. “Thanks for telling me—you all get to your dorms and don’t cause too much noise okay?”
You heard rings of “yes, miss l/n’s” as everyone left your room and you locked it behind you. You started to make your way to Aizawa’s classroom, your palms a little sweaty against your notebook. You hadn’t talked to Aizawa in a while and it was weird that he had requested your help, but you didn’t mind getting closer to him. Truthfully, he had been on your mind a lot the past few days—you found him pretty attractive despite his quiet demeanor. Although, you were a new teacher, and didn’t want to be involved with anyone too early in your school year.
Aizawa jumps a bit when he hears sudden loud knocks on your door, and sees your face come into view. “Good evening, Aizawa. You needed my help?”
“Huh?” Aizawa asked, his face twisted in confusion.
“Jirou and Mina came by and said you needed my help with lesson planning—I’m not the best with planning stuff to teach but I don’t mind offering my assistance,” you offered him your normal, gentle smile. “So where do we start?”
Mina and Jirou? Ugh. Of course they would tell you that.
“Um-um-well,” he stuttered, his face already starting to heat up. “I just need a new quirk training game... yeah. That’s why I need help with.” Fuck. He hoped that sounded believable.
“Okay!” you nodded, suddenly taking a seat that was in the corner of the room and sitting right. Next. To. Him. He had to clench his fists to keep his cool, not used to such an attractive woman being so close to him at all. “Where should we start?”
He spent two hours with you discussing new games to play with his students that would also train their quirks, and those were some of the best two hours of his life.
He so enjoyed the time he spent with you. You were so easygoing and natural to talk to—he didn’t feel awkward or nervous talking to you which is what he feared he would feel in the first place. He cracked more smiles with you in the span of two hours than he did the whole week.
“You can’t just make them play dodgeball with their quirks! They’ll get hurt!”
“We have a Recovery Girl for a reason.” Aizawa rolled his eyes, smirking at the glare he got from you.
“Still! You know some of them—Bakugo—are going to take out their anger on other students,” you huffed.
“But it’ll be fun to watch?”
You were quiet for a moment, but inevitably started smirking along with him. “...you’re right. It will be.”
Together, the both of you planned for Class 1-A dodgeball, with you and Aizawa as the referees. You two even planned to go by the outfits together—and now he was out at a sporting store with you, looking for a fucking black and white striped shirt. He couldn’t believe this.
“I’ve never worn one of these before—you think I’ll look cute in it?” you asked him, raising your eyebrows repeatedly and he couldn’t help but chuckle gently at your antics. “I’m serious!”
“I’m sure you will F/N,” he told you, not even noticing his slip up until a few moments later. “I—I meant-“
“So we’re on second base huhhhh? Don’t worry, I’ve accidentally called you Shota a few times to Mic and Midnight. I’m not used to calling people by their last names, we don’t do that in America.”
“You talk about me?” Aizawa couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the fact.
“What?! Of course not, no.” you quickly shook your head, and he grinned at the flustered look on your face. “The only thing I tell them about is how you need more sleep. Your brain doesn’t function correctly on a small amount of sleep.”
“My brain doesn’t function correctly at all.”
“Wrong. You’re pretty smart, Aizawa. Pretty understanding too,” you hummed, you two walking through the aisles so you could get whistles. “Your students are always telling me how much you care about them, even though you don’t show it. They really appreciate you you know?”
He was expressionless, but his heart did warm a little bit at your words. “I know.”
You two bought the items and soon enough you were back at the school. You got out of his car, sending him a wave and a quick goodbye before heading to your own car, and Aizawa let out the longest sigh of his life.
“Shit.”
#bnha x poc!reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha fluff#bnha#bnha fluff#mha fic#bnha fic#aizawa#shoto aizawa#shota aizawa#aizawa x black!reader#aizawa x reader#aizawa fic#aizawa fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#mha fanfiction#aizawa fluff
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Hey, hope you're good. Do you take requests? Could you please do one for robert where the reader is kinda bookish and writes poetry, just a hobby, nothing major and she doesn't really show it to anyone but robert being robert convinces her to show it to him? Thank you so much ❤❤
Hi Anon! I'm good, other than feeling bad about taking so long on this. Thanks for the idea. 😊 I took some liberties, but here you go. (if I run out of space with this answer I'll reblog with the rest.)
Robert left the others talking at the van. He lit his cigarette and began to stroll.
He marveled at how inviting the American college campuses seemed--more green, and less museum-like than the stately old schools in his country. He smiled when he saw a rogue, long-haired professor in discussion with a circle of students in the grass. The professor was not much older than his students, but he kept them in thrall with a passionate lecture, giving the proceedings the vibe of a guru turning a willing group of hippies into wide-awake citizens of the universe.
Robert brushed his hair out of his eyes when the wind tousled it. He was still getting used to his curls being longer. But he didn't mind, with all the American girls who wanted to touch his hair before they rambled on to caress other, more fun, destinations on his body. The thought made him smirk and strut, just a little.
He continued walking and watching the students in the grass, wondering how many he might see at the Led Zeppelin show on their campus that night. He liked the energy of the college crowds, hordes of young adults giving themselves freely to the band's dirty electric blues, fans of their first album, even more turned on by the grass and acid that tended to flow freely at centers of higher education.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw a beautiful student alone on the grass, scribbling furiously in a notebook. She sat with her legs crossed, and her canary yellow t-shirt complimented her deep brown skin. Her lower body was engulfed by her long, patterned batik skirt, and her hair was cut into a dainty afro, a style that Robert was slowly seeing more of in advertisements and magazines.
She was left-handed. It was a trait that had been discouraged in England and the United States, but somehow it hadn't been beaten out of her. He immediately thought of Jimi Hendrix, the most famous lefty he knew, and envisioned him playing his guitar upside down. He wondered if young woman's writing, whatever it was, approached the creative highs of the celebrated guitarist.
No matter the quality of her creativity, her passion was clearly intense. She was single-minded about putting her ideas to paper, unfazed by the other students who chatted happily, danced to music on a tinny transistor radio, or even played catch on the meticulously kept emerald quad. Robert watched her write in a quick burst of inspiration in one moment, then sit still as a statue, pen down, fingers on her full lips in deep concentration, in the next. Her devotion to coaxing out the words of her heart reminded him of how he had been more inspired to write songs now that his pre-Zeppelin record contract had been sorted out. Robert could get credit for his songs on the next album, and the thought excited him. Every time Robert sat down to write he held that vision of his name in the liner notes for something more than his voice and his harmonica playing.
He was drawn to this young woman in yellow, by her interest in writing, as well as his excitement to bond with another writer. It also didn’t hurt that she was cute. He decided to be quick about chatting her up, before G started bellowing for him from across campus.
He approached and spoke softly, lest he would startle her. “Excuse me? Love?”
She looked up quizzically. She blinked and her eyes grew wider, as though she was coming out of a trance. “Yes?”
“Uh…” Robert stammered as he took in the topaz color of her eyes, which were lighter than he’d assumed at a distance. They glowed in an otherworldly harmony with the darker gleam of her skin. “I couldn’t help but notice you were writing? I write, too. Songwriter,” he offered.
“How cool! It's poetry for me." She smiled warmly, then drank in his tall, lithe frame, dressed in a worn white T-shirt and white striped pants, his brown sandals, and his golden cloud of curls. “Are you in one of the local bands?” She eyed her abandoned notepad and pen, seemingly wanting to get back to her interrupted train of thought, even though she also seemed to relish a conversation with the cute stranger before her.
“No, I’m not quite local… I’m here from merry old England,” he said, affecting a regal accent, followed by his lighthearted guffaw. "I’m sorry to drag you from your writing… It’s just that you reminded me of myself."
“Oh…” She looked down again, this time in a bashful manner. “I kind of go off into my own world out here. I can concentrate much better than in my dorm room--my roommate plays her records loudly all the time.”
“Trust me, I understand… I’m Robert, by the way. And you are…?”
“Lillian.”
“Lillian… Beautiful name… Would it be all right if I sat down here with you and get a little sun?"
“Sure, Robert. It’s not like I own this lawn anyway,” she teased.
“Right.”
“I'd love to talk more, Robert, but do you mind if I write while you sunbathe?”
“Quite all right, darlin’. But one question for you… Could I take a look at your writing at some point? Only if it's not too much trouble? I was drawn to you by how excited you were to be writing, and I have a suspicion that you’re a lovely writer. Would you let a curious bloke test that theory out?” He smiled with nervousness of rejection, but soon his eyes conspired to woo her with a flash of merriment.
"Only if you sing me one of your songs."
Her smile was more flirty than defensive. Robert smiled at how the encounter was unfolding. "It's a deal," he said, gesturing for a handshake and grinning at the start of their connection.
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Mini Fanfic #864: The Disco King (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)
6:45 p.m. at Smash Mansion, Outsode of Luigi and Daisy's Bedroom......
Daisy: (Flexing her Muscles in Front of the Mirror Door While Wearing a Female Berserk Outfit) Heh Heh!~ Still got it. (Gives Both of her Muscles a Kiss Each Before Calling Out to Luigi) How's the costume going in your department, babe?
Luigi: (Inside the Bedroom) Pretty good! Just need to finish the final touched....aaand....Done!
Daisy: Sweet! You ready to come out here and show me whatcha got?
Luigi: Yeah. I'm still not sure if it'll look nearly as good as yours though....
Daisy: Oh come on, 'hon. You're being too modest again. I'm sure your costume is gonna look great this year.
'Door Open'
Daisy: Hell, it might even look better than mi- (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock at What is in Front of Her) OH... MY GOD!
Luigi smiles sheepishly and shyly while wearing a green, disco like attire.
Luigi: This.... isn't too much, is it?
Daisy: (Almost at a Loss For Words) Luigi, you look amazing.......The clothes....the shoes...the hair! Where did you get all of this?
Luigi: Professor E. Gadd gave it to me back when I was at the hotel two years ago. I wore this as a disguise to infiltrate the ghost party at the disco ball room. And....since I was given "Disco King" as my codename, I had to prove the title is real by disco dancing for three and a half minutes. Which was kind of pretty fun to do in hindsight.
Daisy: That is so cool and hot at the same time......
Luigi: Really? I figured you would find all of this lame and boring.
Daisy: Are you kidding? I love Disco! We used to throw those kinds of parties back at my kingdom, when I was a little munchkin. Been in love with the culture ever since....('Click Tongue') Ah man....
Luigi: What's wrong?
Daisy: If I'd knew you would be wearing that for Halloween this year, I could've brought a disco costume of my own a long time ago. We could've been known as the King and Queen of Disco Dancing! And I could've wore a sick afro!
Luigi: You would look pretty groovy in a afro......(Smiles Softly) But I'm sure we can wear it together some other time. For what it's worth, I think you already look amazing in the costume you're wearing right now.
Daisy: You think so? It's a costume I usually wear for Dungeons & Dragons night with the ladies. (Begins to Smile Proudly While Showing Off her Muscles) Not to brag or anything, but I just so happen to be the only, strongest Berserker of the entire party.
Luigi: (Chuckles Lightly) I can tell. Your muscles are looking better than ever.
Daisy: Thanks, sweetie~ I knew my workout routine would pay off eventually.
Luigi: Well, you are the strongest princess I know after all.
Daisy: (Smiles Bashfully) Weegie, you're giving me too much credit here~ I'm sure there's like a ton of other girls in the world that are lot stronger than I am.
Luigi: Yeah, but....(Holds Up Daisy's Hand While Giving her a Bit of a Seductive Smirk on his Face) You'll always be my #1~ (Starts Kissing the Top of Daisy's Hand)
Daisy: (Giggles Ticklishly by Luigi's Kisses Before Pulling him Into a Tango Like Position) C'mere, you!~
The princess is about to give her man a kiss on the lips. When suddenly......
'Gopsel Keyboard'
Dedede: (Comes Out Of his Room With a Slug Like Figure While Singing Wearing his Preacher's Cloak and an Elvis Wig) YEEAHEH YEAHEYEAHE YEAH! YEAHEYEAHEYEAH! YEAHEYEAHEYEAHEE YEEEEEEEEAAAAH!
Daisy: (Eyes Widened at What is In Front of Her and Luigi) Dedede?
Luigi: Are you..... Dressed as Elvis?
Dedede: Close. I'm a Preacher NAMED Elvis. I was debating which of the two I wanna be this year for Halloween until I say....(Sings While the Slug Plays the Keyboards Again) WHY NOT BOOOOOOOOTTTTTH!!!~ Praise the one and only Elvis Dedede!
?????: Amen.
Daisy: (Points at the Slug) Hey, who's that?
Dedede: My partner & crime, Escargoon.
Escargoon: (Smiles Brightly at the Couple) Pleased to meet ya lovely folks today.
Luigi: Ah yeah.... Dedede told me about you a while ago. (Happily Pulls his Hand Out For a Handshake) It's so nice to finally meet you in person.
Escargoon: (Gives Luigi the Handshake) Likewise. Love the costumes by the way. Couldn't decide which one is my favorite already.
Dedede: Yeah. I have to agree. Y'all look good.
Daisy: Why, thank you~ (Starts Flexing While Speaking in a Manly Like Voice) I AM KNOWN AS THE STRONGEST BERSERKER OF ALL THE LANDS AND SEAS!!! (When Back to Smiling Brightly While Hugging Luigi From Behind) And this here is my handsome Disco King!~
Luigi: (Smiles Sheepishly Again) I-I wouldn't exactly call myself a king or anything, but....I am pretty groovy!~ Speaking of which, what are you dressed as, Mr. Escargoon?
Escargoon: I'm Joe Esposito. Elvis's manger and right hand man. It's not much, but....I think it suits me pretty well. It's a lot better than the first costume the former sire suggested me to wear
Dedede: (Glares at Escargoon) Ah come on, now. Being a T-Rex isn't so bad.
Escargoon: (Glares Back at the Former King) Dedede, I am not gonna wear a T-Rex costume just to make your Elvis Preacher impression look more good than it already was. Did you forget that I literally have no legs?
Dedede: Then you can just wear the head. It wouldn't be any problem with that.
Escargoon: Yeah, expect for the fact that I couldn't see anything clearly out of it! I mean, seriously, how much does it cost anyways? $1000?
Dedede: (Slowly Starts Looking Away in Silence) ....................
Escargoon: (Eyes Widened) Oh my god. You actually spent money that stupid thing? Why!?
Dedede: (Went Back into Glaring at Escargoon) Hey, that costume ain't stupid! And the only reason I brought it was because it looks interesting!
Escargoon: What? You thought about wearing it for yourself or somethin'?
Dedede: NO!........ Probably. But that's beside point!
Escargoon: (Facepalms While Groaning) ('Ugggh') You are SO impossible to deal with all the time.....(Turns to the Couple Behind Him) Has he always been this stubborn to you guys?
Daisy: Oh yeah. Big time.
Luigi: Almost at a daily basis even.
Dedede: (Immediately Glares at the Duo) TRAITORS!
Escargoon: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Hey, don't blame them for speaking the truth. I bet everyone else in this mansion will say the same.
Dedede: HUSH UP! You know what? Forget y'all! (Angrily Walks Way) I'mma go downstairs and show everyone on my swagger on my own! PEACE!
Escargoon: (Watches Dedede Walk Away While Walking) Once a spoiled brat, always a spoiled brat......(Turns Back to the Duo with a Soft Smile) Thanks for looking out for him for me. It means a lot that you care.
Daisy: No problem, man. Annoying as he is, he's still family.
Luigi: Always.
Rest in Peace Elvis Presley & Joe Esposito
@keyenuta
@caleb13frede
@26shann
@ma-lemons
@albion-93
@supergamemaster64
@illyrilex
@italian-love-cake
#super smash ultimate#luigi#daisy#king dedede#escargoon#professor e gadd (mentioned)#humor#fluff#cute romance#daisy loves luigi#remember that disco costume luigi has in luigi's mansion 3?#yeah it based on that lol#also dedede as elvis/preacher#halloween month#edited
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ღNice To Meet Ya!ღ
Bee was excited, at first, she always dreamed about traveling to Japan, and here she was!
Well, she was a little bit more than excited really. She still felt like she was walking on cloud nine when she stepped off the plane and into the terminal, her backpack nestled lightly on her shoulders as she went to go find her luggage.
What she wasn’t expecting was a rush of overwhelming anxiety to hit her out of nowhere.
It happened as she sat down at a nearby bench, clinging to her luggage with a vice-like grip as she idly looked at the sights around her as well as doing a little bit of people watching to past the time.
She was alone.
She had no family here.
No one to relate to.
She hadn’t even considered the obvious language barrier between her and everyone else.
Completely and utterly independent, if you could call it that.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t considered it before. Granted, winning a lottery to go to one of the best hero schools would have anyone distracted until they landed.
Or was that just her?
She fiddled with the afro-puffs in her hair, fluffing them out nervously as she waited for her guide to come and get her.
What if they never came?
Did they know what she looked like?
What if she flunked out of UA? What would she do then?
Her quirk wasn’t anything special, not for fighting anyways, but she could see herself as a rescue hero of sorts.
Or maybe a walking talking light bulb was more like it?
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through it mindlessly once she drew her pattern to unlock it.
Should she call her dad?
Lament to him about her increasing anxiety about being 6,778 miles, thanks Google, from home and how this was stupid or how she was probably gonna either drop out or flunk?
That didn’t sound too bad actually, it sounded like a normal conversation they would have.
Before she could tap on the green call button, she heard her name being called.
She lurched her head up, looking side to side nervously.
Was she imagining it? Oh God, was she hallucinating?
Could nerves do that to you?
“Hi, are you Bee?”
Maybe staring blankly at the person who addressed you by name like you couldn’t wrap your head around basic human interactions wasn’t the best response. But, Bee wasn’t the brightest person in the room.
Well, not metaphorically.
“Oh yeah, I’m so sorry! My brain froze the moment you called my name. I thought I imagined it at first. No one ever gets it on the first go.”
The kind smile the woman gave all but melted her into a formless heap on the floor.
“I know how you feel. When I first traveled here, a representative of my new agency had come to greet me, and my expression was the same as the one you just gave me.”
The woman laughed to herself. It fell from her lips like notes from a soft piano solo, delicately accompanying her gentle frame.
“So, you’re a Hero?”
“Oh, yes! I didn’t even introduce myself, how rude of me.” The woman cupped Bee's small hands in her warm, slightly bigger ones, the smile etched on her face never faltering for even a second. “My name is Bellamy Reigns, I work as the support hero Flo here in Japan, it’s nice to meet you.”
Their handshake was brief but firm, she only hoped to God that her hands weren’t as "clammy" as they usually were.
She couldn’t help how warm she always was.
“Are these all your belongings? I know you just got here, you’re probably going through some stages of jetlag but I can help you with that, right now we need to drop your stuff off at your new apartment and get you to your first day at UA.”
Bellamy clasped her luggage and made a beeline for the entrance of the airport, Bee trying desperately to keep pace with her and also avoid bumping into the people passing by her.
“Oh, this is sooo exciting! You’ll love it here, I promise! Ah, you remind me of when I was your age, so ready to be on my own and face the world. Only to call her parents in a panic because she didn’t know her right from her left she was so nervous!”
Bellamy gave her an encouraging smile when she met her gaze as she glanced over her shoulder, receiving a timid smile in return.
“Flo, so nice of you to join us, what happened this time?”
A woman with cocoa brown skin, thunder cloud grey hair, and pumpkin orange hues dressed in simple business attire stared holes through the pair as they approached UA’s front gate.
An hour behind schedule.
“I was getting her settled into her new apartment and we lost track of time, that and our cab here was late.”
The woman’s stare got heavier.
“All I hear is excuses Reigns, why didn’t you drive your car here instead? You drove it to the airport, didn’t you?”
“You know I don’t have the car right now Ami- “
“And so, you still didn’t plan accordingly?”
She began to tap her foot in annoyance.
“You have to take more responsibility with your job Reigns, I’m honestly surprised they haven’t fired you yet.”
“It wasn’t her fault, if anything, I’m the one that distracted her with all my hero-worship. And so what if we were late? You’re acting like the world was gonna end if we didn’t get here on time. You don’t have to be so rude about it.”
Bee huffed at the woman, crossing her arms to mock her pose.
The icy glare the woman gave her in return almost made her heart flatline. All the confidence she had mustered drained from her like emptying bathwater, causing her to slink behind Bellamy pitifully.
“Her tie isn’t even on correctly.”
“She wanted a bow tie.”
“And you let her? Bellamy, you’re an adult, start acting like one.”
“Having a bow tie isn’t a big de- “
The woman brought her hand up to silence Bellamy, Bee catching the way the air around them became so tense it was almost suffocating.
“We’ll discuss this later, she’s late and you have a class to teach. Dump her onto Weylyn and get moving.”
Bellamy sighed through her nose before giving the girl beside her a warm smile.
“Come on sunshine, you have a class to catch.”
They walked into the bustling halls to be greeted by two girls standing idly by the lockers.
One had long, flowy sea-green hair that cascaded down her slim body and stopped an inch shy of touching the floor. The deep color complimenting her round sepia brown face and bringing attention to her gleaming sunset orange eyes.
The girl to the right of her stood rigid and emotionless, posed like a dutiful guard ready to attack at any moment. Her thick, bushy bark colored mane silhouetted her intimidating frame as two soft brown ears jutted from the sides of her diamond-shaped face. Her deep forest green eyes boring into Bee's chestnut brown ones seemingly in anger.
The girl with the green hair was the first to approach them, her face brightening as she swung her arms up in a welcoming gesture.
“Hello! You must be Bee, right? It’s so nice to have finally met you! I’m Arlo Weylyn by the way and I’ll be your guide until you get settled into UA.”
Arlo brought her into a tight hug before pulling back to meet her gaze, her hands resting comfortably on her shoulders.
“Oh yeah, that’s me! And yeah, it’s really nice to have met you too Arlo and...?”
Bee tilted her head to look at Arlo’s silent companion who stared back at her with disinterest before focusing on the woman behind her.
“Oh, this is Selah. She's been dubbed my shadow as of late but, don’t worry about her. She means well, I promise. Oh! Mrs. Flo, I couldn’t help but notice that Downer was seeming, well down, for lack of better words, did something happen?”
Bellamy perked up at the sound of her name, her warm smile settling back on her face again.
“Amias is fine Arlo, don’t worry about it, okay? Could you get sunshine here to her class, please? She’s already late, and I wouldn’t want her to miss out on any more important lessons.”
Arlo nodded as she ushered the girl toward her first-year class, which was thankfully English as of right now.
On the way to the classroom the trio, more like just Bee and Arlo, had made idle conversation about where they were from. Arlo being born and raised in Colchester England, and how their quirks worked.
“So, your quirk allows you to glow?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty boring, I guess.”
“No, it isn’t! Any quirk can be amazing if you put effort into reaching its full potential.”
“Whatever boats you float.”
Bee fiddled with the straps of her backpack as she looked up, catching the gaze of smiling blue eyes.
Her stomach did cartwheels as she forgot how to walk, almost tripping over her feet and getting up close and personal with the floor.
Her stomach dropped into the Earth’s core as the owner of the blue eyes came closer, smile rivaling the sun with how bright it was.
To be honest, he was probably rivaling her with how bright she must have been glowing. She just really hoped she wasn’t blinding anyone.
He stopped in front of her and began to speak excitedly. His words zipping past her face like an arrow from an experienced archer.
With all these people speaking English, she had completely forgotten about the blaring problem of a language barrier. Looking at Arlo almost pathetically for help.
They had talked back and forth for a while as she stood there confused. Arlo gesturing to Bee periodically and the guy smiling even wider, if that were possible, with every word that fell from Arlo’s glossy lips.
“Bee, this is Togata Mirio. He’s really happy to meet you, he says, and is hoping you two become friends.”
Bee stared at the boy standing in front of her, noting how his soft blue eyes and blonde hair kinda reminded her of Lucas from Smash Brothers.
Holding back a laugh, she brought her hand up to shake his, putting on her best smile for him.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Mirio!”
#oc blog#self shipping#self ship#self insert writing#fanfic#my hero academia#my hero acadamy#boku no hero academia#boku no hero#otp: Miribee#romantic f/o#self shipping community#canon x self insert#black self insert#my hero academia mirio#mirio x self insert#bnha mirio#mha mirio#self love? I guess?#fluff writing#mirio fluff#my writing#long post
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Nile Freeman week, day one: Love
Rating: M, warnings for (quickly ended) harassment
Contains food, sex, and Nile/OFC
Proper post to come at a more civilized hour.
Nile + Love (September 6)
Nile falls hard, lands on her side and rolls when she hits, but there's broken glass on the concrete and she leaves a smear of blood. She's back on her feet again, glad she wore her less-cute jacket tonight, because it's ripped and she's not great at mending, but Joe will cheerfully insist that it's a wonderful time to learn. The asshole who hit her (while she was removing his buddy's hand from the short, round, butch girl he'd cornered) gears up for another swing. But she's seen him now and would probably have been able to take him down before MCMAP. After several years of getting her ass thoroughly and systematically handed to her by Andy, Nile puts him on the ground in under a minute. She turns to see the butch girl alternating ducking and kicking at the guy who'd started it. She's not doing much damage, but she's distracting the guy plenty. Nile gets him in an armlock that will only damage him permanently if he struggles too hard and escorts him out the door. He stumbles away, white with pain, abandoning the unconscious friend Nile drags out after.
"You all right? I'm Nile," she says.
The butch girl, more impressed than scared, apparently, offers her hand. "Ah, I'm fine," she says. She definitely is and probably did not mean it like that. Her hair's in an afro undercut that's dyed almost navy blue underneath, her mouth is a generous curve of a smile, and her jeans are fitting her really well. "Jackie. Where the hell'd you learn to fight like that? My ma's been after me to take up martial arts since I moved to the city, but this is the first I've taken the idea seriously." Her handshake is warm and dry, calloused in entirely different ways than anybody else whose hands Nile has touched recently.
"Kung fu is really great, if you can find a dojo around," Nile says, which sounds like an answer, but isn't. "Are you sure you're okay? The flat my friends and I are renting is just around the corner." She pauses for a second and adds, "Sorry, that sounded weird. If you wanted to sit down and have a glass of water or something, I mean."
Jackie looks her over and tips her head, smile widening. "Wouldn't mind, if your friends don't."
Nile feels the blush rising in her face. "Of course they won't."
She leads the way. It really is just around the corner and she calls, "Nicky, Joe, company!" as they enter. It takes a few minutes to take off their shoes and hang their coats, and by the time they make it to the kitchen, Nicky and Joe are waiting eagerly with an extra plate set out.
"Oh, I didn't realize you were in the middle of supper," Jackie demurs.
"No, no, a new friend of Nile's is always welcome," Nicky says, and gently works them through the required rounds of polite refusal, including how grateful she already is that Nile helped her with the creeps and how nice it is to have visitors and how she can't impose and how they accidentally made far too much, surely she can do them a favor by helping them eat it, it would be a shame if it went off before they could finish all of it. Eventually Jackie sits at the table with a plate of mullah and a couple pieces of kisra to dip in it, looking slightly shell-shocked.
She tastes it tentatively, then starts eating as enthusiastically as everyone else. "This is brilliant."
Nile groans in sympathy. "Right? These guys are amazing cooks."
Nicky pats her shoulder in passing, heading for the fridge for more water. "It is only practice, Nile. And the joy of cooking for people we love."
She grins at Joe, who looks smug.
The food is good, even though she's still not used to the spices, and they chat lightly. Jackie's working at a grocery and doing a postgrad in mathematics. Nile and the rest of the household are doing some holidaying after finishing a big project for the company they all work for. "Ugh, security consulting, it's incredibly boring," Nile says.
"Oh," Joe says, as if he's just remembered. "Andy is out for the night; she wanted to go backpacking and get away from people for a little. We're going to a club a few streets over and I have Nicky's promise we will spend at least three hours. I want to do some dancing." He shimmies a little in his seat to make her laugh.
"And there will maybe be karaoke and he will need at least an hour to try to convince me to sing," Nicky added, sitting back down.
"Oh, yeah, that's no problem," Nile says, feeling a blush heating her cheeks again. "I'm sure I'll be fine here."
Jackie's eyes have gone heavy lidded. "I can hang around if you'd like some company," she suggests.
"Sounds great," Nile says, and Joe is definitely flashing a thumbs up in her peripheral vision.
They head out as soon as the supper dishes are put away, and she's pretty sure she hears the word 'wager' in Italian as they go, but Jackie is leaning against the doorframe looking like a snack and she doesn't really care what kind of bets they're making about her right this moment.
"Hey," Jackie says. "It's been a weird night, but you're cute and a bit badass and I'm down for a fling. What do you say?"
Nile hasn't been smooth, ever, in her life, but that's a softball question if there ever was one. "Absolutely," she agrees, and steps forward, fingers slipping carefully around the curve of Jackie's hip.
Jackie stretches up to kiss her and it has been way too long. Nile moans into her, pressing her against the doorframe. Jackie pulls back after a minute, her hands wrapped around Nile's biceps and mouth wet.
"Girl, you lift weights? Oh my God." Jackie looks her up and down, more slowly this time. "I'm getting you naked, right? That's on the table? Show me those muscles already."
Nile bursts out laughing. "Sure, if you want. My room's this way."
Jackie is soft and lush under her button down and sports bra and very vocally pleased with every new bit of Nile she uncovers. They shove each other around in their eagerness, eventually making it to her bed and naked, where Jackie pushes Nile down on her back, and demonstrates with mouth and hands just exactly how much she likes Nile's body. Nile yells loud enough that Jackie claps a hand over her mouth, muttering around her mirth about scaring the neighbors.
Nile lays there for a second, blinking stars out of her eyes, then rolls them over to return the favor. Jackie comes with Nile's mouth on her chest, and two fingers deep inside her, clutching Nile's shoulders like she's drowning.
Jackie drifts off for a bit afterward, leaving Nile free to admire her some more. Her hair is flattened a little, from Nile's thighs around her ears, and Nile isn't sure she has a pick handy, she'll have to check.
When Jackie blinks awake, she smacks a kiss on Nile's cheek. "Gotta clean up. I'm not going to stay; work in the morning."
"Oh, sure," Nile agrees, still a little floaty from endorphins. "My toiletry kit might have a comb that will work and there's extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet, if you want. First door on the left."
"You are a gem, as well as a knight in shining armor," Jackie informs her. "It's been lovely meeting you, Nile."
"Same," Nile tells her sincerely.
After a brief tidy-up, Jackie kisses her one more time, hot and deep, pats her on the cheek, and says goodbye. "If you visit again, look me up," she says, offering Nile a scrap of paper.
"Thanks," Nile says and waves her down the street.
She has a pot of water on the stove and herbal tea steeping when Joe and Nicky amble back in, Nicky humming and Joe swaying in time.
"How was your evening?" Joe asks, pouring himself a mug and sitting beside her to bump her elbow gently.
"Good," she says, still feeling a little unmoored. "She was nice."
Nicky sits across from them and steals Joe's mug for a sip. "Good. I'm glad. You deserve people who treat you sweetly sometimes."
"I've got you guys, and Andy," she says.
"And we love you, but there's other kinds of sweetness than family," Nicky says fondly.
"That's for sure." Nile leans into the warmth of Joe's arm. "You have a good time?"
"We did." Joe's jaw cracks on a yawn. "Bedtime for old men."
"He is ancient and creaky and needs his rest," Nicky informs her.
"You're only three years younger than me," Joe says, shaking his head. "Come on, ridiculous man. Good night, Nile. Sleep well."
She goes. She feels alive and wrung out and pleasantly warm, but in many ways, mostly she feels loved.
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A Royal Problem Chap. 6- Dead Bird Studios
So another long fanfic for you all. However, this time I ended up cutting this chapter into two parts. I thought I was going to end up taking a long time for this chapter since I never wrote the bird directors before, but after playing around with an idea, it seemed easy. I did come up with a lot for this chapter, so much so that this chapter could have ended up being over 10 pages. Now I don’t mind writing over 10 page fanfics, but this was probably going to be almost 20 if I did all the ideas for it.
Just for comfort, I decided to split this chapter into two parts. One because I wasn’t going to write an extremely long fanfic, and two since we’re focusing on the bird director’s it makes a lot of sense to have the first part focusing on one of them and the next one on the other director.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter!!
It was a brand new day and the kids were all enjoying breakfast. As they ate, Hat Kid was thinking of what they can do today besides heading on over to Subcon. She wasn’t sure if the royal kids wanted to do something fun, but after what happened the kids definitely needed some cheering up. Where to go, however, was a problem.
From her knowledge, Hat Kid for sure wasn’t going to take them to the Metro.
Not in a million years!
Hat Kid could take them to Mafia Town, she could introduce them to Mustache Girl, or Mu as she liked to be called and they can spend time together. Though from what she heard from C.C, Mafia has been hunting down Mu, and some still aren’t too pleased with Hat Kid. She didn’t want to bring the royal kids over there as they would get involved with what the Mafia has in store for them.
She could take them to Alpine Skyline, but Hat Kid wasn’t sure if she could deal with Vanessa’s behavior if they went hiking on the mountains.
That only left Dead Bird Studios. Hat Kid didn’t mind the studio. In fact she had a lot of fun working on the movies with DJ Grooves and Conductor, despite the rivalry between the two. Even though she made DJ win the Bird Movie Awards this year, and Conductor attacked her because of it. After everything, the three finally got along, sort of. Conductor and DJ still have their rivalry, but they still cared for Hat Kid when they found out she lived alone and her family wasn’t around.
Though, there was this one problem. What did Conductor and DJ Grooves do after the Bird Movie Awards we’re done? Do they go on break? Or, did they make another movie for next year’s Bird Movie Awards?
With that in her mind, she now had to decide between Mafia Town or Dead Bird Studios.
Snatcher paused in the middle of eating and saw Hat Kid thinking, not touching the rest of her breakfast. “Hey kiddo?” Hat Kid snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at Snatcher. “You okay? You barely touched breakfast.” He asked.
Hat Kid looked down at her plate and saw she only ate half of her breakfast. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” She told them. “I’m just thinking about what we should do today.”
Snatcher and Vanessa looked at one another and back at Hat Kid. “What is our plan today? More Time Piece shard finding?” Snatcher asked.
Hat Kid gave them a smile. “Not really. I figured today let’s do something fun! I can hold off Time Piece shard hunting for one day!” She told them. This gave Snatcher and Vanessa a smile as they wouldn’t run into Moonjumper again.
“What are we doing today?” Vanessa asked.
“Visiting a few friends of mine.” Hat Kid replied.
Snatcher smiled and crossed his arms. “Which friends? I know everyone on the planet is your friend.” Snatcher said, rolling his eyes.
Hat Kid chuckled, rubbing the back of her head. “Not sure, haven’t thought about where yet.” She went back to thinking between visiting Mafia Town or Dead Bird Studios. Hat Kid had to make a flowchart in her head to think where she and the royal kids could go for the day.
It took a minute, and Hat Kid made a good choice on where to go. It was the only place where the kids wouldn’t have to face danger, plus the friends she’ll meet wouldn’t kill her now and also love kids! “Never mind, I know where we’re going, but first finish breakfast and we’ll get going!”
“Done!” Hat Kid looked at the royal kids who finished their meal quickly so they could spend time with Hat. She was surprised by the kids, as they were raised royal and proper and this wasn’t royal and proper. Hat Kid giggled and smiled seeing the kids were ready to go for the day.
Hat Kid did the dishes and took the royal kids to the machine room. She pointed the telescope towards the entrance of the studio and smiled. “You two ready?” She asked. Snatcher and Vanessa nodded as Hat Kid teleported the three of them to Dead Bird Studios.
The three made it to the studio, with Hat Kid and Vanessa landing on their feet, despite the latter almost losing balance, but Hat Kid made sure she didn’t fall. Snatcher however, still didn’t know how to land and ended up landing on the girls. Hat Kid chuckled, but Vanessa glared at the former ghost.
“Thanks for breaking my fall girls!” Snatcher beamed.
“Don’t mention it.” Vanessa grumbled. She pushed Snatcher off her and Hat Kid and slowly got up. Hat Kid helped Snatcher and Vanessa up and dusted them off. Vanessa looked around the place and was impressed by all the bright lights. “Where are we?”
“My job!” Hat Kid replied with a smile.
Snatcher turned to Hat Kid, surprised. “Wait, you had a job? Before me, your BFF?” He asked, acting hurt.
Hat Kid nodded. “Yep,.”
Snatcher snickered, “So what was your job, a janitor? Assistant to bring the directors food?”
“An actress!?”
Vanessa smiled joyfully hearing Hat Kid was a star, while Snatcher was flabbergasted over what Hat Kid just told them. “You were a movie star?” Snatcher asked. Hat Kid smiled and went on to explain how she got to do movies for Dead Bird Studios, before heading over to Subcon and meeting Snatcher. She went on to explain the kinds of movies she did, the directors, and who won. Though she did leave out how one of the director’s tried to kill her after the awards. Snatcher chuckled and crossed his arms impressed that Hat Kid had a career before being the hero of the planet.
Just before they were about to go inside a penguin with an afro came out stunned seeing Hat Kid and the royal kids.”Darling!” He shouted.
“DJ!” Hat Kid shouted back. She and DJ Grooves gave a high five, or high flipper in DJ’s case with each other, and it ended up with the two creating a secret handshake.
“I’m so glad you're back! I’ve been wondering where you've been since you said you were continuing your mission!” He said in his loud upbeat voice.
Hat Kid chuckled. “I have, but,” she paused to rub her arm, “got into a bit of a delay.” DJ then turned towards Snatcher and Vanessa realizing what the delay was. The royal kids gave a nervous wave towards the DJ director.
“Why, Darling?” DJ spoke peeking out of his shades. “Who are these little darlings?”
Hat Kid smiled, “DJ these are my siblings; Vanessa and Luke. They’ve been staying on my ship for a couple of days now, hence why I haven’t come to visit.” She lied. However, like she practiced she kept a straight face, hoping DJ will believe her.
She was relieved when DJ did believe her and ruffled the kids heads. “Well, I see the resemblance! Both have that smile like you have, darling!” He commented. Vanessa smiled blushing a bit at the compliment, while Snatcher smiled nervously.
Hat Kid chuckled. “They sure do.” She said smiling nervously. It surprised Hat Kid, DJ didn’t know that she was acting and Snatcher and Vanessa weren’t really her siblings. However, if DJ believed it, that was fine though she did want to tell someone the truth about them.
“Well, why don’t you three come on and we can continue talking there.” DJ said. Hat, Snatcher and Vanessa followed the moon penguin director inside the studio.
The inside of Dead Bird Studios was relaxing then it was when Hat Kid arrived. Many of the Moon Penguins and Express Owls were talking and getting along like there was no feud between them. Hat Kid rubbed her eyes to make sure she was at the right to studio or if the Time Piece that broke caused some weird Time fixation.
“Everyone is so peaceful.” Hat Kid noted. “Last time I was here, you and Conductor were arguing over who was going to win the award.”
DJ laughed. “Well something you don’t know darling, after the awards are over is when the studio is at peace. Until next year’s award ceremony and then it's back to square one!” He explained.
“Which is when?” Vanessa asked, curious but interested in the feud.
DJ shrugged. “Whenever, sometimes in a month or two. The longest we had was 6 months.” DJ Grooves replied.
“That’s interesting.” Snatcher noted.
“So you and Conductor don’t fight?” Hat Kid asked.
DJ laughed. “Oh darling, Conductor and I have always fought even when the rest of the cast and crew are on break.” He replied.
Hat Kid sighed. “Of course.” She added. She knew of Conductor’s personality and even if someone tried to force them or ask peacefully Conductor would not make peace with DJ Grooves. Heck even Hat Kid tried after her battle with Conductor. Though she shouldn’t blame it all on Conductor, Hat Kid wasn’t even sure if DJ would also accept the peace treaty as well.
Speaking of Conductor, Hat Kid didn’t see him anywhere in the studio. “Where’s Conductor anyways?” Hat Kid asked.
“Traveling, he does it every time we go on break. He uses his train and travels all over, stays in one place for a month and leaves again till the announcement of the next awards and then comes back here and we end up feuding again.” DJ Grooves explained.
Hat Kid nodded, believing everything DJ said. “So Conductor left for a bit?” Hat Kid asked.
“Not yet, he’s leaving soon.” DJ reminded her. Hat Kid nodded, she wished to see Conductor as well before he left. Vanessa and Snatcher saw Hat Kid’s expression and looked at each other both giving a smile as they both had a plan. “Well we can talk more in my quarters darling.” DJ yelled as he left for his part of the studio.
Hat Kid was just about to follow DJ, but she saw Vanessa and Snatcher sneaking away from her. Glaring, she grabbed the two and started to drag them to DJ’s office. “Oh no you two. You're not sneaking off on my watch!” She scolded. Vanessa and Snatcher groaned as Hat Kid dragged them to DJ Grooves’s quarters.
Once they got there, Hat Kid and the royal kids sat down at a desk as DJ sat on his own chair facing the three kids. “So what brings you and your family here?” DJ asked.
“It's just me and my siblings here.” Hat Kid told him. “I just thought of taking them around the planet to meet up with my friends.” She explained. As she Snatcher and Vanessa smiled and nodded to agree with Hat Kid’s statement.
DJ chuckled and smiled. “Well I hope they’ve been enjoying their stay here.”
“Oh, they have!” Hat Kid replied. “A few bumps here and there, but so far so good.”
“Yep!” Vanessa added.
“So what about your parents?” DJ asked.
Hat Kid’s eyes widen. She never told anyone about the fate of her parents. Quickly, she had to think of something, something that DJ would believe in and hoped he didn’t ask anymore questions. “Well, my parents had to be called on an important mission, and since no one was around to watch my little brother and sister. My parents had to find me in space to teleport them over here.” She lied. Hat Kid hoped DJ believed it, and it wasn’t helping as Snatcher and Vanessa nodded smiling like her.
“Well, why couldn’t the kids use their spaceship to fly over and find you?” DJ asked again.
“Knew it.” Hat Kid thought. More questions and more “answers” to give. “Well, my siblings haven’t gotten their license to pilot the ship yet. They're still in training.”
DJ then turned to the royal kids. “It's true!” Snatcher replied, adding on to the lie. “Flying those things are hard.”
DJ smiled and ruffled Snatcher’s head. “Well don’t worry darling’s little brother, you’ll be flying those ships in no time!” He reassured Snatcher..
Snatcher chuckled. “T-thanks.” He replied.
“Well.” DJ started as he clapped his flippers. “Since you're here darling, why don’t we talk about future movie ideas that will help me win next year’s award!” He beamed.
This surprised Hat Kid and the royal kids. “Aren’t you guys on break?” Hat Kid asked.
“Of course we are!” DJ answered. “That doesn’t mean we can talk about the ideas I have.” He then placed a stack of scripts and movie ideas on the table. The pile was so big, the kids couldn’t see DJ anymore.
“This is more than the books I have back home!” Snatcher commented.
Hat Kid was in shock that the Moon Penguin of a director came up with so many movie ideas. “DJ, did you come up with all this before the Bird Movie Awards or after?” Hat Kid asked.
“Which Bird Movie Award?” DJ asked, peaking out of his shades.
Hat Kid’s expression dropped. “You mean to tell me you had these ideas since you became a director?” She questioned.
“Why darling!” DJ beamed putting his hands together. “You're so smart! I’ve had these ideas for a while, some I used, some I haven’t, and some well I came up with in between!” He explained.
“So.” Vanessa started grabbing a script. “We’re going through all of this?”
DJ chuckled. “Not really, I just need to know which idea sounds better so it can be a winner for next year!”
Vanessa and Snatcher glared turning to Hat Kid, who chuckled nervously. “I made the wrong mistake coming here.” She thought to herself.
For the next hour or so, DJ went through all of his movie ideas, explaining the plot and such. All Hat Kid, Vanessa and Snatcher had to do was give their opinion if it would sound good or not. It was hard for Vanessa and Snatcher, mainly Vanessa to come up with an opinion due to the fact that movies were rare in Subcon during their time. Snatcher was able to come up with an opinion on some movies, thanks to once being an active soul stealing ghost, so he was able to come up with his opinions on some.
However, the two royals started to get bored, and Hat Kid was ready to fall asleep. Since DJ Grooves kept on talking, Snatcher and Vanessa smirked ready to ditch this place and look around the studio. Slowly, they got out of their seat and quietly left the office. DJ or Hat Kid didn’t notice and soon Snatcher and Vanessa left DJ’s part of the studio.
Vanessa sighed in relief. “Finally we got out of there!” She shouted.
“I thought the more time we were there, we would eventually become ghosts again!” Snatcher agreed in response.
“Now what do we do as we wait?” Vanessa asked.
“Easy, we find this Conductor and tell him kiddo wants to see him before he leaves.” Snatcher explained.
“How do we find him? He could have left at this point!” Vanessa reminded him.
Snatcher thought about it for a bit and went to look around for someone who had answers about Conductor’s wearabouts. Out of all the birds who were busy talking and being buddy, buddy with one another, he found one in the front desk reading a magazine. “Excuse me, sir?” Snatcher asked. The bird looked at the young kids, peeking from the magazine. “Um, where exactly is the station to where Conductor’s train is?”
The bird put the magazine down and faced the two kids. “Why do you ask?” The bird asked getting close to the former ghost.
“Well, um…” Snatcher stuttered. He wished he was a ghost again, so it would be easier to take his soul, but being a kid again he forgot how nervous he got when answering questions.
Luckily for him, Vanessa was able to answer. “We just have a question for him. We’re family towards Hat Kid, the star with the hat?” She told the bird.
The bird thought for a second and remembered. “Oh the lassie! Well, the train station isn’t too far from the studio, but you better hurry, Conductor leaves in 5 minutes.” He explained to the kids.
“Thank you.” Vanessa replied, giving a smile. She grabbed Snatcher’s hand and dragged him outside of the studio. They looked around and smiled seeing a train station nearby. Still holding Snatcher’s hand, she ran towards the station, but stopped seeing so many people and birds boarding the train. “Great, how do we find him now!” Complained Vanessa.
Snatcher looked around, and came up with an idea. “Stay quiet and follow me.” He whispered. Now it was his turn to grab Vanessa’s hand, and while they didn’t run, they slowly and quietly went inside the train to look for Conductor.
Inside the train was more crowded than it was outside, with that it was easier to sneak by without trying to get caught. “Alright, now how are we going to find the Conductor and what he looks like?” Vanessa asked.
“Don’t worry I know what he looks like.” Snatcher reminded her. The two walked towards the back of the train hoping to find the director there. However, they couldn’t find the director in the first wagon of the train..
Vanessa gulped and held on to Snatcher tight. “Luke, where are we now?” Vanessa asked.
“On the train.” Snatcher answered.
Vanessa glared. “I know we’re on a train, but what part of the train!?” She questioned. Soon, a luggage fell in front of them making the young princess yelp and jumped on Snatcher’s back. The former ghost grunted as the young girl climbed on him, which made both kids fall.
Out from the luggage were three black cats, in masks. Snatcher recognized them and glared. These cats were from an organization called the Nyakuza. They’ve dropped by Subcon a few times, mostly just to fool around or look for some riches from the manor, but Snatcher was able to scare them off or take a few souls from them if any of Nyakuza got a bit wordy at him.
“Next time, we sneak on board we’re wearing disguises.” One Nyakuza cat said, dizzy from the fall.
The other Nyakuza cat with an eye patch glared and shook the smaller member. “Oh relax, Sumi. We didn’t get hit that hard!” He shouted.
Sumi mewled and looked down. “Well it did hurt.”
The third member, who was much smaller than the two got up and froze seeing Snatcher and Vanessa. “Uh guys.” The third member said.
The two cats turned to their smallest member, “What Coal?” They both asked. Coal gulped and pointed at the royal kids.
“Uh hello there.” Vanessa said, waving to the cats.
The three Nyakuza members faced the young kids and soon Sumi got nervous. “Oh great, what do we do now Meowjima?” Sumi whispered to the cat with the eye patch.
“Act natural. If we don’t say much they won’t expect a thing.” Meowjima whispered back. Sumi and Coal nodded and faced the royal kids with a smile. “Why hello there little princess.”
Vanessa giggled at the nickname, but Snatcher glared. He knew these cats are nothing but trouble and were planning something. He could smell it. “Hello adorable little kitties.” Vanessa replied.
“Vanessa.” Snatcher whispered. “Be careful, these cats are dangerous.”
Vanessa glared at Snatcher and turned back towards the cats. “What brings you here on the train?” Vanessa asked the Nyakuza cats and ignored Snatcher’s warning. Snatcher groaned, shaking his head.
“Oh you know a vacation, we need a break from our boss.” Sumi told the young girl.
Coal turned to Sumi, “Wait, aren’t we here to steal from the passengers?” Coal asked.
Meowjima kicked the smaller cat. “Shut up.” He growled.
“Aha!” Snatcher shouted. “I knew it! I know all about your little gang, Nyakuza!”
The three cats smirked and pulled out their bats. “So you do know about us.” Sumi said.
Vanessa whimpered, as Snatcher put his arm in front of her to protect her. “I do.”
“Luke, who are they?” Vanessa asked, scared over what she thought were cute little cats.
The three cats then jumped, as Vanessa cried in fear, but Snatcher hugged her to protect her. However, he didn’t feel a claw on them. Instead the cats jumped towards the door and closed it, locking it from the other side.
“Hey!” Snatcher shouted. He tried going to the door, but couldn’t open it. “H-help! Someone! Were locked in here!” Snatcher yelled hoping any of the passengers would hear them. Things got worse when the train started to move and left the station with three evil cats and two kids locked inside a wagon.
Meanwhile, back at Dead Bird Studios. DJ finally got done with the first pile of movie scripts. He would have gone through more, but he was hungry and needed to relax his voice for a bit. “Well I guess that’s enough for the day! Thanks for the help darling!” DJ beamed. He didn’t hear Hat Kid’s reply and when he went to check he saw the young girl was asleep. Taking a deep breath, DJ decided to wake up the child. “KID!” DJ shouted. Hat Kid jolted awake falling from her seat. She groaned and rubbed her head. “Oops, sorry darling.” He apologized.
“Don’t worry DJ. Your fine.” Hat Kid reassured him. She gave a yawn as she got back up, putting on her signature hat. “We should get going. Come on…” Hat Kid paused when she looked to see the seats Vanessa and Snatcher were sitting on we're now empty. “Uh DJ? Did you see where the kids went?”
DJ looked up from the stack of papers and saw the empty seats. “Nope, I was busy talking about my ideas.” He replied.
Hat Kid started to panic, she didn’t know why, but she got this feeling in her stomach that something happened to Snatcher and Vanessa. “Oh peck.” She whispered.
#ahit#ahit au#a hat in time#A Hat in Time AU#A Royal Problem#A Royal Problem AU#Hat Kid#Snatcher#ahit the prince#Queen Vanessa#DJ Grooves#ahit nyakuza#Meowjima
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Flip Ficlets (Part III?)
Since the first time I saw BlacKkKlansman, I wondered what was going on in Flip’s head when Ron asks why he’s not taking the investigation more personally, and Flip answers “Rookie, that’s my fuckin’ business.” My brain supplied...
What if Flip had a girlfriend of color during the investigation?
Pt ii: This wouldn��t leave me alone
All it took was some nice Flip gifsets on my dash, and suddenly I wrote more of this. Here we’ve got the flashback scene to when Sarah first found out Flip was a cop, Flip getting dragged (somewhat) against his will to a disco, and Sarah’s feelings a few years in on being with a white guy.
Not beta’d or anything, just had fun.
Flip has no idea how he got talked into this.
“Hell no. No way,” had been his gruff reply when Sarah leaned away from the telephone to excitedly call, “Patrice and Ron are going to a disco tonight!”
It was a Friday evening after a long day and an even longer week. Apparently Ron had other ways he liked to recover, but Flip’s ideal Friday night usually involved reclining in a horizontal position. Definitely not dancing.
“You’re such a drag,” Sarah drawled, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I’m going. You can either come along, or accept that I’ll spend all night dancing with other guys. And you never know, some of them might be hotter than you.”
Well, that was how right there.
Flip had just stared for a long second, then blinked slowly when Sarah twirled out of the bedroom in a spangly dress that flashed plenty of shoulders and thighs. His mouth suddenly very dry around the urge to march her straight back into the bedroom, he managed, “Sarah, I have nothing to wear.”
She’d just grinned, the glitter on her dark eyelids shimmering phosphorescent.
“Just wear my favorite shirt. The red one. I’ll be satisfied.”
Flip made a passing attempt to tame his hair before pulling his boots on. (Boots to a disco. There was no hope for him at all.) Before Sarah could pull her coat on at the front door, he’d drawn her close enough to kiss her mostly-bare shoulder appreciatively. She breathed out fast and gave his hair a brief, playful tug.
“No time for that, babe. Let’s go, let’s go!”
Flip released something between a sigh and a grumble of acceptance as he grabbed his own coat and followed her out the door. The sooner they left, the sooner they’d be home when there would be time for that.
“Brother!” Ron crowed as Flip and Sarah approached him and Patrice outside the club entrance. Flip dutifully extended his hand for his and Ron’s customary handshake-slide.
“Your glitter! You look dynamite,” Patrice greeted Sarah, immediately enveloping her in a hug.
Ron’s grin – beneath an afro boasting fresh volume – could only be described as shit-eating.
“I didn’t think there was a chance in hell she’d get you to come out.”
Flip sighed, his gaze sliding indulgently towards his girlfriend. “Looks like hell hasn’t frozen over yet.”
The moment they passed inside, Ron noticed Flip’s demeanor shift and stiffen a bit. He seemed to hunch his shoulders a bit, in a mostly futile bid to make his towering frame less conspicuous.
Not that he needed height to draw looks.
Sarah, while making it look perfectly natural and effortless, made sure to always be touching Flip. Whether linking her hand with his or staying pressed to his side, she made it clear he’s with me – he’s no trouble.
Ron navigated them to the bar and secured the first round of drinks. Just before Patrice dragged her off to the neon-light dance floor, Sarah tucked a kiss against Flip’s cheek and made the vaguely threatening promise, “Don’t get too cozy at the bar here, I’m coming back for you.”
Once the girls slid off into the dancing crowd, Ron raised his glass for Flip to toast.
“I always did want to see your moves, soul brother,” Flip joked, even as his gaze compulsively jumped from each set of potentially hostile eyes to the next. Without Sarah right there pressed against him, he couldn’t quite suppress the instinct.
“I’ll only show you mine if you show me yours.”
“Hate to break it to you, but even after all your tutelage I still don’t have a funky bone in my body. Probably a lost cause.”
Flip took a long sip and spotted Sarah over the rim of the glass, dancing at the center of the floor. Immediately, he found himself soothed.
Ron nudged his elbow into Flip’s side. “It’s all about the woman, partner.”
With some difficulty, Flip tore his gaze from Sarah to peer at Ron.
“What now?”
“All you gotta do is let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally, trust me.”
“I don’t know. Trusting you has landed me in some pretty deep shit once or twice.”
“Flip. It pains me that you don’t trust me as a reliable authority on disco.”
“Well. More of an authority than me, I’ll give you that. Though that ain’t saying much.”
“Sure as hell isn’t. Nice boots, by the way.”
“Fuck off.”
Ron just grins, looking to be having an absolute delight of a time.
When the girls rejoin them, and Sarah – all laughter and heaving heartbeat and smudged glitter around her eyes – shimmies in against his side again, Flip feels like a whole new kind of interloper.
She glows, the most enticing star that’s ever burned in the night sky, and no matter whether in a club frequented by whites or blacks, he’d still look utterly out of place with her.
Sarah loops her arms up around his neck and pulls playfully. “Time to face your fate.”
Flip tries to shoot a beseeching appeal to Ron, but only catches his back as Patrice tows him towards the flashing lights of the dance floor.
There’s no hope for him now.
“Honey – I’m gonna make you look a fool.”
He already looked the fool the second he stepped in here in his boots and worn flannel – even if it is Sarah’s favorite. But Sarah – her sashaying hips, hair flips, and light feet could put this whole place in the palm of her hand.
“Not with me, you won’t,” she promises brightly, seeming to have full confidence in the same power of the leading lady espoused by Ron.
Flip hates it, he really does. Never in his life has he been a dancer. Especially not in places where he’s a magnet for attention.
This is her night. It’s for her.
So he says nothing, and lets her slight, small hands pull him deep into the crowd of people on the dance floor.
In desperation, he recalls what Ron meant as advice: Let your woman lead. The rest comes naturally.
And somehow – his miraculous goddess of a woman makes it so easy. Her back to his front, Sarah holds his hands against either side of her hips, letting him feel the sway and dip of her movements. She presses back against him just enough to nudge him into the rhythm. Over her shoulder, Flip can see her smile as he gradually matches her pace. And it… isn’t so bad, moving where she moves, savoring the weaving of her body against his and just letting himself sink into equilibrium with her.
After almost three years together, the familiar yet no less spectacular shape of her small body pressed to his carries all the sure-footed reassurance of a bright blue, sunny sky.
She lets her head tip back against his shoulder, grinning between songs.
“Like I keep telling you, you’re not so bad, babe. Even for a white boy.”
Apparently not everyone agrees. Before Flip can make a joke in return, a young man detaches from the crowd with an impeccably styled afro almost to compete with Ron, armed with a charming smile all for Sarah.
Smoothly managing to avoid even a glance at Flip, the guy offers, “I couldn’t help but notice this gorgeous sister dancing near me, who looked like she might be in need of a proper partner. Might I be of service?”
Flip almost admires the guy’s nerve. He knows Sarah well enough to stay quiet and let her handle this herself.
Sarah just tucks herself closer to Flip, smiling sweetly at the guy. “Nice of you to offer, but I’m perfectly fine with my boyfriend here.”
The guy’s mouth opens in abrupt surprise. He finally looks at Flip now, reassessing.
Flip stays silent, but can’t help himself resting a possessive hand at Sarah’s shoulder. He looks somewhere other than the guy’s face, and makes every effort to temper his glare. While Flip concertedly doesn’t watch, the guy finally gets lost.
“What a presumptuous jerk, right?” Sarah looks up at Flip through her lashes, indulging him.
Flip keeps looking out into the crowd, a slight frown clinging to his lips despite his full knowledge that the guy was no threat.
Sarah is just about to poke him into dancing again when he mumbles only just audibly over the music, “If you want to have a few dances with a partner who knows what he’s doing… I won’t mind.”
Sarah just stares up at him for a long moment, before cracking an amused smile.
“How much did that hurt to choke out?”
“Nearly stuck in my throat.”
Smiling to herself and the happiest she’s been all night, Sarah draws herself closer against him and hooks her arms up around his neck, making Flip meet her eyes.
“You came out with me tonight. You’re the only one I want to dance with.”
The music slows into a gentle, easy beat and this – this Flip can handle just fine. He rests his hands at her waist, before sliding his arms around her and drawing her all the way in. Her breath is warm and soothing against his neck, as she hums in approval near his ear and settles into a slow, pleasant sway to the music.
This, Flip doesn’t mind one bit.
“Then I’m the luckiest son of a bitch here tonight.”
He wonders if the glitter on her face is rubbing off against his neck and shirt right now. He finds he really doesn’t care.
Sarah twirls her fingers in the hair along the back of his neck. She always loves when he lets his hair get long. She nestles in closer as Flip keeps them rocking back and forth. It’s her favorite place – wrapped in his arms and nearly enveloped in the breadth of his body.
Times like right now, Flip still can’t believe that, somehow, he’s to her taste. She’s the most beautiful woman in the place, and she’s spent the last three years with a lug like him. There are a hundred good reasons why she might never have given him the time of day – not the least being his job and the fact that her clubs, discos, and bars aren’t meant for him.
And yet – way back when, she was the one to kiss him first. She’s the one who keeps a hard line with her parents, who keep prodding her to “dump the pig already.” Three years and she’s still immovable.
Flip will never quite understand; he’ll just keep doing his best to treat her right and not tempt his good fortune.
The sweeping droplets reflecting off the disco ball dapple across her dark skin. Her long weave of braided hair is a bit mussed, and she’s warm and sweaty in his arms.
He dips his head, resting his lips near her ear.
“I can’t wait to get home and make love with you.”
She goes onto her toes, stretching up towards him in a way that’s simply sacred.
“You’ve been working late this week. I think you owe me an all-nighter.”
“’till dawn, at least.”
“Maybe straight through breakfast. We’ve got no plans tomorrow.”
And Flip wouldn’t even be surprised if she means it. She’s the tiniest woman he’s ever shared a bed with, but by far the most voracious. Keeping her satisfied is his supreme joy.
They only last another two songs. They find Ron and Patrice to say their goodbyes, before Sarah leads their way out with Flip’s hand gripped tight in hers.
He doesn’t plan on letting her go for the rest of the night.
Maybe not ever.
~~~~~
Flip had wondered when to broach it. Dreaded it.
On their third date, he thought it improper to put it off any longer.
“You haven’t asked me what I do for a living.”
Sarah had sat back in her seat across the diner booth. She knew that it had perhaps been intentional. She liked him so much so far. Perhaps she was scared of thinking of him separate from this – out doing things other than holding doors for her, waiting for her to initiate reaching for his hand before he so much as kissed her goodnight, smiling his crinkly smile and laughing his deep laugh at her jokes.
“I suppose I haven’t.”
Flip pushed fries around his plate, simultaneously relieved and deeply regretting steering the conversation this way.
Still. He knew putting it off any longer would only make it worse.
“I’m a detective. I… work down at the station.”
Her body stiffened. Her hands, which had been laid on the table as if in consideration of touching him, withdrew to her lap. Her jaw went rigid, mouth drawn tight.
“So you’re a cop.”
He only barely had the heart to look at her. Still, he nodded.
“You could say that.”
She crossed her arms, shifted on the seat. He wondered if she was weighing the option to walk out right then and there.
Instead, she asked in a voice deceptively light and difficult to parse, “You do fancy undercover work?”
“Sometimes. It’s not so fancy though, usually just listening to wire taps all day.”
She stared at him – gaze assessing and harder than usual, but not entirely closed off. Not yet, at least.
“You ever arrested people?”
“It’s in the line of work.”
“People like me? Who never done anything wrong but live in a world where others don’t want us to?”
Flip took a deep breath. He was already jonesing for a cigarette.
“I have arrested two black men, yes. But two who’d done quite a bit wrong and only after we had reliable evidence against them.”
Her eyes took on a fierce glint now.
“You ever been the type to flash your lights and pull over a black driver just to rough them up a bit?”
Flip’s mouth twitches into a frown, his tone turning a shade less gentle. “Do I seem the type?”
Sarah doesn’t give an inch of ground. “No, you’ve gotta tell me. Because you could be a very different person when you walk out that door than the one sitting here with me. For all I know, you may be the type who thinks it’s fine to bag a black woman, but wouldn’t blink an eye if you saw one of my brothers beaten on the streets.”
Flip sat back, all thought of food gone along with any trace of resistance. He kept fitting together then discarding answers – each more deficient than the last. Whatever he says, he knows it can’t entirely quell her misgivings. Only his actions and time can do that.
He doesn’t say that the barber who cuts his hair is black. He doesn’t say that he mows the lawn for the elderly woman across the street from him, who happens to be black. He understands that just like his presence here across the table from her, that doesn’t prove anything.
“I can tell you that no, I’ve never pulled over anyone of any color if they weren’t speeding. But I know that’s not enough. All I can do is ask for the chance to take you out again and start proving it.”
She took him in for a long time, simply assessing the sincerity in his expression – weighing the future burden of inevitably navigating the chasms between their experiences and views of the world. Would he understand that some of those chasms could never be crossed; but it was his responsibility to see them anyway?
“I should just warn you - I’m difficult to please,” she said, the hint of a smile returning in just the corners of her lips. “But I’ll give you that chance. From what I know of you so far, I think you’ll make it count.”
She rested her hands up on the table again, leaning in again over her seat.
On the other side of the booth, Flip relaxed. She was still there. He realized part of him hadn’t expected anything after this conversation. He’d thought it wasn’t even worth hoping for – that she’d still be comfortable spending time with him once she knew everything.
But she’d given him a chance, and Flip intended to earn and treasure her trust.
He slid his hand across the table, just so his fingertips could brush across the back of her hand. He waited, but she didn’t pull away. She just gave him a small, budding smile.
“Let’s go get a drink.”
~~~~~~~~
Since the day she first met him in the bar where she used to mix drinks, Sarah has always felt completely and utterly safe with Flip. He’d come over and interposed himself between her and three guys who’d been harassing her as she tried to leave from a shift. He’d walked her out to the parking lot, offered to drive her home, and she’d never wanted to be parted from him since. It was more than simply trusting him – more than knowing with absolute certainty that he was a good, honorable man who respected and provided for her.
It was his size, when they were out together and a pair of hostile eyes fled in the opposite direction when they caught sight of him at her side. It was his carrying license and shoulder holsters – the only weapons she’d ever known with certainty would never turn against her, but would only ever be used in her protection. It was the way his presence beside her at the grocery store made the checkout person smile at her with a brightness she’d never known before. It was the way no white man sneered or smirked at her across a crowded room anymore, ever since Flip became a permanent fixture.
For a long time, she never told him these things – afraid he would feel she was using him. Sarah never troubled herself with such qualms. She knew she loved Flip for the right reasons. All the advantages to being with him had only made themselves known after she chose his company, after all.
Of course, not all her friends and family would call them “advantages.”
“How could you?” her now ex-friend had hissed. “Racist cops are out there running us down like dogs, and you’re fucking one.”
Sarah had just fixed her hair, unperturbed. This was nothing she hadn’t already considered.
“If you respect me as a woman and friend, you’d trust me to never betray my people like that.”
“But that’s what it sure sounds like.”
“Know what I think? I think it sounds like you’re doing the same thing as those racist cops. Which – I’d care to note – Flip isn’t.”
“How could you even compare-“
“It sounds like you’re trying to tell me they’re all the same, but I thought we were more evolved than that.”
Sarah doesn’t shrink from her black pride. For a while, she wondered if it was a type of passing – enjoying the freedom from harassment thanks to her intimacy with a white man. Wondered if she had crossed some invisible line without realizing, and was now separated from her brothers and sisters.
But then she’d get groceries or go to the butcher on her own, and nothing had changed. Not really. Except she’d go home and be even more grateful for the warmth of Flip’s arms and the soft scrape of his beard when she kissed him.
Home was safe. Home was where he was. And so she stopped worrying about any of it.
Then he finally asked.
She’d been out late with some friends – a little tipsy when she rung him at the station to come pick her up from the club.
It wasn’t one of the clubs they usually frequented – one that was a bit more mixed. She and her two friends had only been outside for all of a few minutes before two burly white men started jeering from across the street. They crossed the street, but were only just approaching the girls when Flip pulled up. But they’d been close enough, and Flip was trained to read violence in body language.
He’d swung a sloppy park job, jumped from the truck, and blocked their approach. He’d flashed his badge in case the contempt in his glare wasn’t loud enough. Maybe it’d be enough to scare them off such behavior for good.
He’d had Sarah’s friends squeeze into the truck and dropped them off before bringing Sarah home. She remained silent – mostly because she wasn’t a talkative drunk, but Flip perceived different reasons entirely.
They were in the kitchen – Sarah chugging water, Flip hovering in the doorway, unsure if the comfort he wanted to give would be welcome – when he asked.
“Is it ever… too hard?”
Sarah needed a moment to focus on him. The kitchen lights were so bright. The concern and anxiety in his expression was a lot to take in.
“Is what?”
He huffed a slow sigh, lifting a hand to rub across his mouth for a moment as if feeling the shape of each word as he considers them.
“Being with someone who looks like me. Who looks like…. That.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Sarah had filled and downed a second glass of water, willing herself sober.
When she looked at him again, she knew he hadn’t asked for any reassurance for his own sake. He wasn’t asking for her validation or forgiveness, nor was he trying to indirectly make some ‘we’re not all like that’ statement. The question had been solely for her sake – the rest of the world be damned.
And that… that makes her answer for him; with an answer no less true.
She comes to stand near him in the entryway to the kitchen, watching him look between her face and scanning her body, as if still reassuring himself nothing happened. She waits until he relaxes slightly, until she has his attention completely in the present moment.
“Flip. Baby. You don’t look like them. Not to me.”
She reached up to touch his cheek, to trace she shape of his mouth as he pressed a small, hesitant smile against her fingers. His hand on her hip was gentle and warm.
They got ready for bed in silence. Flip helped with undoing the back of her dress and sliding her head and arms into her pajama shirt – her coordination not quite at peak performance.
In bed, the lights out, Flip pulled her close and wrapped her up more tightly than usual. He kissed her ear until she’d gone utterly relaxed and content. At first, she burrowed her face in close against his chest, breathing in all the comfort he offered. She luxuriated in the strength she could feel at rest in his arms – alongside the tender circling of his fingertips along her back.
Suddenly, she had more to say. She lifted up just enough to find his eyes in the dim bedroom. She stroked his hair back from his face, leaning close.
“You look like the guy I don’t bitch about cooking dinner for. Who picks me up without a single complaint when it’s the middle of the night and I’m drunk. Who can fuck real good but love even better. The guy who doesn’t think he’s noble for treating me well – it’s just what anyone should do. You look like the guy who doesn’t ask if it’s a place for whites or colors, when we go out. The guy who says my hair’s beautiful, even though you’ll never understand why it takes so long to get it done.”
She leans a little closer now, her hands coming up cup his jaw, fingers gently stroking over his beard.
“You look like the guy I trust to keep me safe. The only guy I’ve ever known where it actually makes me feel better, knowing you keep a handgun in the closet. That’s what I see, Flip - the guy who gave me what means the most. A home where I know I’ll always be safe.”
As much as it enrages him, tonight had hardly been an isolated incident. Sarah had plenty of stories of experiencing such threats – some of which Flip had witnessed firsthand. But he has no power over people’s cruelty or small-mindedness. Neither of them do. All he can do is look out for her. And the whole time, part of him had just waited until it became too much for her. Until all his skin color represents became too burdensome to keep in her life any longer.
So this – it means something to him. She doesn’t see him as a turncoat or defector from enemy lines; still hovering in her line of vision. To her, he has always been behind her own line – on her own side, in private from the rest of the world.
“Sarah, I swear I’ll always protect you. Until the day when this world is less fucked up and you don’t need it anymore.”
“Mm…. but what if I still need you?”
Flip nuzzles the top of her head, draws her in a little tighter.
“Then I’ll still be there.”
She’s half asleep, head pillowed against his chest and his arms still twined around her, when she murmurs, “Flip?”
He rumbles out, “Hm?”
“Tell me you love me.”
Truth be told, he’d been thinking it. Just nervous to say the words – as he perpetually was, no matter that it wasn’t anything near the first time.
Flip opened his eyes to press a kiss to her forehead, then three more down the side of her half-asleep face. Warmth bloomed in him at her contented sigh.
“I love you. More than I know the words for.”
She rumbled a sigh, her head nodding sleepily against his chest as her lips curled in a smile.
“Good.”
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