#franklin saint imagine
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A Hold On You
Pairing: 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. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), spanking, some dirty talk, all consensual. Daddy kink and breeding kink. Fluffy smut. Established relationship.
Summary: Taking place between season 4 and season 5, Franklin toys with the idea of legacy and keeping the people he loves in his life. On date night, he hits you with a proposition.
Word Count: 3,039k
Part 2
A/N: Hello brainrot, my old friend. Whew, it pays to be feral ASF for Damson. That man is lethal. I don't even want kids and I want his babies. I'm sorry if this triggers some! 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
“Have my baby,” Franklin said.
Your head whipped to the side so fast that you almost got whiplash. An ache pulsed in your neck and you rubbed it as you stared at Franklin. You sat on the floor, on a blanket, with a light dinner spread out between you and Franklin.
Moonlight poured into the living room, illuminating the space and lighting up Franklin’s gorgeous face. You expected him to start laughing or look away from you. To break the tension somehow.
Instead, he gave you an unreadable look. He retreated behind whatever invisible wall there was in his mind. He had one leg down and one leg up, his arm resting on his knee, and his hands clasped in front of him. He was a study in patience as he stared you down.
“You’re not serious,” you said.
“As a heartache,” he said.
You lowered the finger sandwich from your lips and finished chewing. You continued to stare at Franklin. Were you sleeping? Did you pass out and imagined having dinner with Franklin?
You put the sandwich on the plate and brushed your hands over the plate for stray crumbs. You looked away from him. Your stomach bubbled. Your hands began to shake.
“The type of business you’re in doesn’t scream safe for kids,” you said. You tried to be delicate, but the neighborhood was still buzzing about little Tianna.
Franklin nodded. “I understand, but that’s different. I can protect us,” he said and finally cracked his mask. He smiled briefly.
“Franklin,” you said and shook your head. “There would be no hiding that. What the hell would I do? Become a housewife, lamp up, and get fat?” You asked.
You shuddered and thought about that scenario. You’d certainly enjoy the sex, but you couldn’t imagine spitting kids out like that.
Franklin laughed. “Naw, but a home office could be arranged. Bodyguard for when you go out,” he said.
“A bodyguard? That’s romantic,” you said and rolled your eyes.
“Have my baby,” he said. He pushed plates out of your way and got to his knees. He crawled closer, giving you wide puppy eyes. Kneeling, he was still way taller than you. He leaned in and kissed you.
He leaned back with a satisfied hum. He kissed your jaw and then your cheek. He returned to your lips and hovered. When he licked his lips, you felt it. When he breathed through his mouth, the air swept over your wet lips. He was just shy of kissing you and you leaned in to close the gap but he leaned back at the same time.
“Just say yes,” he said.
“But then I’d be fat and gross,” you said.
Franklin smiled against your lips. You had closed your eyes when he started kissing you, so you opened them now. He must have sensed it, because he opened his eyes at the same time.
“Impossible. You’d be even more gorgeous,” he said.
“I’d whine and complain about everything,” you continued.
Light danced in Franklin’s eyes. He licked his lips and his tongue swept your lips.
“I’d love to hear your sexy voice,” he said. He finally pressed his lips against yours. He hummed, pressing closer. You sighed against him. He took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth.
You moaned softly, already feeling so needy for him. Your toes flexed as you kissed, loving the feeling of him being so close. You rubbed your hands up and down his strong arms. His hands cupped your face. He held you in place, exactly as you were.
“I’d crave weird things and demand them at 2am,” you said, when you broke apart just far enough to gasp.
“Shit, I like drivin’ at night,” he said.
You giggled and shook your head. “You’re crazy. Who gon’ get up at all hours of the night feeding it?” You asked.
Franklin began to kiss your neck, murmuring in between pecks. “We’ll both do it, so we’ll both be miserable,” he said.
You pushed him and sucked your teeth. He laughed and rocked back. He brought his lips back to your neck. “I’ll let you get all the beauty rest you deserve after delivering my baby,” he said.
Your pussy clenched and you huffed. This couldn’t actually be turning you on, right? And yet, looking at him, you didn’t have a doubt in your mind. You would happily have his kids. You would love little sons that looked like mini versions of him. They’d keep their heads held high because that’s how much awe Franklin inspired.
You’d be so grateful to have his daughters, that looked like a mix between you. And they’d all have his brain. Franklin was easily the smartest man you’d ever met. It scared you sometimes. You felt like he was born in the wrong era. He belonged in the future with more people to appreciate his intellect.
Franklin hummed his appreciation down your neck and across your exposed chest. The dress you wore had a deeper neckline than what you usually wore and Franklin took advantage. His right hand massaged the back of your neck. His left hand pushed more plates out of your way. There was a tray at the top of the blanket to hold your drinks.
When the blanket was clear, Franklin pushed you onto your back. Between the carpet and the thick blanket, this position was surprisingly comfortable.
Franklin settled to the side of you. He threw his right leg over yours, his thick erection settling against your hips. You gasped and Franklin smiled against your skin. He leaned on his left hand while he took his time undoing the buttons of your dress.
The purple checkered dress complimented your skin tone well. He undid the few, big black buttons. Each one gave way and freed your aching breasts. Your nipples were perking up and rubbed against your bra.
As he revealed more of you with the buttons, he kissed each inch of space. “You’d look so fuckin’ beautiful full of the seed I gave you,” he said.
You shivered and looked at him. His head moved over your body. His beautiful lips felt like heaven against your skin.
Franklin reached the bottom-most button that ended up just above your navel. This, too, he paid attention to. Your hands dug into his little fro as he swirled his tongue around your tummy.
Your breathing increased as your eyes started to roll. “Oh, fuck,” you said.
His right hand grabbed the hem of your dress but he didn’t move it further. Your eyes snapped open to look at him and his eyes were closed tightly. He opened them slowly.
“I’d love to watch this sexy ass body change, knowing you’re carrying my baby,” he said.
Your arousal began to leak out of you. You moaned at the sensation. He leaned down and kissed your tummy again. “Watch this stomach get bigger and bigger,” he continued.
He trailed his finger up your body and played with the strip of fabric in between your bra cups. He kissed the top of your right titty. Then he sucked your nipple into his mouth through your bra.
You hissed and you jerked, your thigh spasming randomly. Your hands ran over his shoulders as he continued. “Hm, and these titties would get bigger for sho,” he said.
His hand returned to the hem of your dress and pushed it up. His hand found the core of you and palmed you. You gasped, your breath dragging over your throat.
He thumb stroked you from over your panties and you groaned. “Please, please, I need more,” you said.
“Let me cum in that pussy then,” he said.
You hiccuped as you laughed, not able to gather that much air. This was so dangerous. And yet…
You found yourself opening your legs wider, giving him more space. His thumb reached under your panties and he pressed down, rubbing against your pussy. He pushed into your entrance and you moaned, throwing your head against the floor.
Franklin put his lips next to your ear. “Let me fill you up. And keep fillin’ you up,” he said.
“Oh fuck,” you cried. The thought of being filled up by him had you rolling your hips. You needed him higher. On that needy little nub that always gave you away. Franklin could smile at you and your clit would throb. He could walk into the room and flood your panties within a second. It ought to be illegal having this type of visceral reaction to him. It was lethal.
If Franklin ever figured it out, you’d never be safe from him. He’d have you to agree to steal the torch from the Colosseum. There was nothing he couldn’t do to your body that you weren’t already begging for.
“Are you sure? You’d be stuck with me,” you said. It was a last ditch effort. What if you really did turn up pregnant and he ended up resenting that fact? You knew without a doubt that Franklin would make an amazing father. You just weren’t so sure that he wouldn’t hate your guts after.
It was a stupid fear. Franklin had never given you reason to believe that he wasn’t into you. But after everything he had been through the past few months, you wondered if he wasn’t rushing into this.
“I know…I know that it was hard feeling like everyone leaves. But I won’t leave,” you promised.
Franklin brought his head up to look into your eyes. He kept up those delicious circles on your clit. Your body pulsed with tension and relief. Your thighs shook violently. He kissed you, his lips remaining on yours for longer than a few seconds.
“I know. I promise, this isn’t anything other than wanting you. Loving you. Leaving a mark behind so you’ll remember me forever,” he said.
He moved his hand faster and little desperate cries began to leave you. Pressure built and built until you exploded, coming undone under his expert fingers. He whispered things into your ear; nasty things about what he wanted to do to you. How sometimes he wanted to drive you wild with his dick from sun up to sun down.
How he wanted to devour you, lick and suck his way to hearing you screaming his name. As you convulsed beneath him, he kissed your chest, sucking your nipple back into his mouth through the bra.
“There’s no way I’d forget you, Franklin,” you said.
“I know,” he said. He pulled his hand away from your clit and painted your lips with your juices. “Suck.”
You began to suckle his thumb, sucking all of your arousal off of his thumb. You moaned around the taste of yourself on his big hand. You clung to his wrist as you suckled harder.
“See you do shit like that and it...” he made a strangled noise. “I want to just use you.”
You bit your lip and closed your legs, seeking relief from the inferno roaring inside of you. That orgasm wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.
You leaned up on your elbows and looked at his face. The moonlight played across his features like a delicate lightshow. “You can do whatever the fuck you want to do with me,” you said.
Franklin took a long, deep breath and blew the air out of his mouth. “Don’t fuck with me,” he warned. His voice grew deeper, the low tones dancing along the back of your head.
“Whatever. You. Fuckin’. Want,” you said. Each word was punctuated with a kiss. Franklin growled and leaned back on his knees.
He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. You landed on your stomach with a soft, “Oof.” Franklin pulled the sides of your dress down and off of your arms. He released the clasp of your bra and pulled that off as well.
Air hit your wet nipple making it pebble. It rubbed against the blanket and you moaned. He pulled your hips up until you were on your knees. He pushed up your dress, exposing your ass. He grabbed both globes of your ass and squeezed.
The mounting pressure made you cry out. “Oh, spank it, Daddy,” you said.
Franklin obliged, spanking your ass. The smack bounced off the walls. Red, hot fire bloomed on your left ass cheek. You bit your lip and dipped over further, arching your back.
Franklin pushed your panties to the side. Arousal escaped you. Franklin gathered it up with the tip of his dick. He moaned at how wet your pussy was. He faced no resistance as he slipped inside.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned together. Your shriek ended on a whine as he slid in and out with ease. Your hands clenched and unclenched the blanket, looking for any type of crutch or anchor. Something to weigh you down when your body so desperately wanted to float away.
You reached the pinnacle of bliss. Franklin worked his hips slow at first, letting you attempt to get used to him. But he started to jerk, his hold more bruising, his fingers pulling you onto him.
You matched his strokes, throwing your ass back on him. Your thighs slapped together loudly and lewdly. He smacked your ass a few more times and groaned when you clenched around his dick.
“Fuck, I’m gon’ cum in this pussy. You gon’ carry my baby,” he said. Each promise was a hard jerk, pulling you onto him so completely that he bottomed out. His dick continued to spear inside of you, touching a primal part of you.
“Oh right there, right there, Franklin,” you moaned and chanted. Your belly tightened and tightened, curling into a little, tiny ball.
“Fuck me,” he moaned as he rammed into you. He rutted into you. Driving you down onto his dick like he wanted to carve his name inside of your pussy. As if he could brand himself there. Sear himself and leave such an impression behind. As if by sheer force of will, he could mold your pussy around his dick.
“Oh, cum in me, Daddy,” you moaned. “Give it to me.”
“Take this baby,” he chanted. It was both a promise and a determination. He spoke it into the universe. Writing your fates among the stars and daring to be denied.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried. That tight ball of pressure finally unraveled, turning you into a limp noodle as your orgasm ripped through you. It pulled you apart, one stitch at a time. Pleasure rippled throughout your body and you cried out, the blanket muffling some of it.
Franklin could barely keep his hands on you as he unloaded into you. His spurts of cum were hot, scalding, painting your insides with the essence of him. “Shit,” he groaned as he dumped his load inside of you.
You both panted as you came down, your breaths mingling as you both tried to return to your bodies. Franklin pulled you up and on your side. You groaned as he slipped out of you. There was a squelching that you felt and heard and you moaned again. He laid down behind you, molding his body against yours.
You felt his dick slide wetly into the crook of your ass. Franklin absently kissed your neck. He raised your left leg and brought it to rest across his long legs.
“Get these wet for me,” he said. He brought his fingers to your mouth. You suckled and drooled on his fingers. He then brought his wet fingers to your clit and played with you. You jerked and moaned, trying to escape.
He moved his right arm under your neck and pulled you against him. His biceps flexed against your neck and you made unholy, guttural noises. His left hand continued to please you, pushing you past the point of arousal.
Your senses were full of him. The way he smelled right now, the sound of his breaths in your ear. “Where you think you goin’?” He asked. The sight of his thick arm around your neck, the way his dangling fingers pulled at your nipples.
His fingers dipped into your entrance and massaged your spongy walls. “Naw, hold that shit in for me,” he said.
He massaged his cum back into you, pushing it higher and higher. You felt so stuffed and full that despite cumming so many times close together, your body reacted just as hungrily. Gobbling up his fingers and his cum.
“Franklin,” you called out, tears running down your cheeks. He had to feel them. His shoulder was beneath your head. The tears ran down and to the side, splashing onto him. He kissed and licked your ear.
“I know, I know, baby,” he whispered.
You twitched and gyrated on the floor, robbed of seeing his face. Your hands searched the blanket for purchase. You felt his dick twitch against your ass.
“Oh, no,” you groaned before another orgasm left you shaking. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your mumbled speech was incoherent as pleasure made you growl like an animal. But fuck, you felt so fucking good that you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Your limbs moved of their own accord.
“No more,” you gasped out. Fuck, you couldn’t take another one. Not right now. You were far too sensitive, jerking at every new touch and slide of his fingers. Franklin stilled his fingers, tugged on your nipple and kissed your neck.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered. He brought his left hand up to rub your belly as if he could already imagine it swollen and stiff with his son or daughter. He pressed on your tummy, massaging it.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said.
You were too tired to give him a proper response. You kissed his arm and he moved until you pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arm completely over your middle. “I’ll protect us, babe. Come whatever tries to get between us. I’ll do everything in my power to keep us safe.”
Somehow, you completely believed him. You laid there and talked with him about everything you could think of. You both passed out somewhere around the moonlight disappearing and the sunlight returning.
You know you need more in your life: The Secret Franklin Saint Files
There is now a Part 2!
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Franklin Part 3
Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word
“Why you been dodging me?” Franklin asks you as soon as you open the door to your house
You step out “I have no idea what you’re talking about”
“Oh so those pages and calls to your phone?” he points towards the inside of your house “They didn't happen?”
You shrug “I don't know maybe you dialed the wrong number” you had no plan to explain to him why you hoped he would just take the hint and let you be, it had been 3 weeks since your first date
He throws his hands up “Come on Y/N what happened? We were just good not too long ago I was gonna take you on another date’n shit”
“I don’t think we would be good for each other Franklin”
“Why you say that? we just talked about you not sabotaging” he points between both of you “this”
“Im not”
He leans in “You are” he argues
“Franklin we aren’t good for each other just accept that” you state matter of factly before you turn to go in
He grabs your arm gently “Nah you owe me an explanation”
“I don’t!” you answer defiantly snatching your arm away
“Yes the fuck you do. I’m puttin’ my best foot forward and you fuckin’ it up on purpose cuz of what? you fucking scared of the shit I do? Aint nobody gon touch you Y/N they dont touch Wanda and her dope head ass what make you think they gon fuck withchu?”
You sigh “Franklin”
“Nah fuck that Y/N”
“You really wanna know?”
He nods “Yes I do, enlighten me”
You pause “I can’t trust you Franklin”
His face holds a confused look “What are you even...?”
“After our date, some of your henchmen came up to me. Guess what they said to me?”
Franklin held his breath he feels his heart beat start to increase. You start to mock the mannerisms and voice of the men “shit I heard you and my boy Saint had a date last night”
He shrugs “So i told them we went on a date big deal” praying that's where the story ends
You continue “Men I lost my $200 and my boy came up on a smooth couple grand” you pause and look at him “ha-ha my man Saint he a G tho” you return to a normal voice “then he proceeds to tell me that there was a bet between you and your fucking crew, you got two grand if i actually went on a date with you?” you scoff “if you were that hard up for money Saint all you had to do was ask I could have given you that and we wouldn’t be having this conversation”
“Y/N let me explain” this was not as it seemed
“Not even 24 hours passed after our date and I’m hearing you went rounding up your niggas so they could pay you!" you paused "And OH! if I fucked you it would have been an additional $3000” you say sarcastically
“Y/N” he calls
You start mocking another guy “My girl Y/N, my sunshiiinneee yo yo yo shit if i had known all i had to do was ask you all proper and shit you would be my girl now. May I take you to dinner Y/N, miss congeniality” you tilt your head “they said you looked pretty in that green dress last night wish it was me instead of that nigga!”
“Who approached you?” he asked with a deep scowl on his face.
“I’ll give you that Saint. You played me good. You played a good game” you begin to walk away
“Hold up, hold up, hold up, who came up to you?” He asked again
You return his mug “I’m not telling you Franklin! It doesn’t matter anyway you up 1 grand right?”
“Y/N listen I will explain later but who told you that? They are a liability to my shit!”
You shrug “what that got to do with me?”
“Tell me their fuckin’ names Y/N!” he demands
You sigh “you betted on me”
“Y/N”
In a soft tone you say “$2000 for the date, additional $3000 if we fucked, had people follow us, Big Saint, The Man, The Myth, The Legend show you lil niggas how its done” you pause “right?...... Saint?”
He looks up and runs his hand down his face feeling like his heart was going to explode word for word you quote what he had that night (“show you lil niggas how its done”) “Y/N please just tell me who told you that and I will explain everything” he begs
“If you wanted the money all you had to do was ask Franklin”
“Y/N, I don’t care about the money”
“But you still made sure to collect, right?” you pause “Then you got the nerve to get annoyed at the fact that I was sabotaging the date!” you scoff in disbelief and begin to walk into your house
Franklin grabs your arm “Y/N listen!”
“Don’t Franklin!” you warn removing yourself from his grip
He blocks the door with his body “Y/N This aint a fucking game who approached you?! I need to know!”
You shook your head, you look him in the eye “I’m not gonna tell you Saint”
He tilted his head and pauses with an offended tone he says “Don’t call me that, I'm not Saint to you it’s either Franklin or any other fucking thing else but I’m not Saint to you!”
You go to say something else but decide not “Fucking Asshole!” you mutter looking down at your sweater pulling small knots that had formed
He released a deep sigh “Fine I’ll take that but you need to tell me who approached you.” he moves his head trying to get you to look up at him. You remain silent. “Tell me Y/N”
You shake your head “I’m not gonna tell you Franklin”
“WHY?!” he pauses to gather himself “You know how serious this shit is?”
“SO YOU CAN GO KILL THEM?!”
“OH MY GOD AINT NOBODY THINKIN’ ABOUT KILLING THEM NIGGAS!” he looks around and moves closer to you “keep your fucking voice down!” he whispers harshly
You scoff “It’s all good Saint”
Almost immediately he sizes you up and with gritted teeth he says “What the fuck did I just say?”
You feel shiver run down, it shocked you so much that you instinctively jump move away slightly, but you hold your ground still glaring at him before you step away and snicker and nod a few of times with tears in your eyes
With instant regrets he breaks his stance and takes a step back to show that his anger isn't’ aimed at you. “Just tell me” he says in a significantly softer tone
“I’m not gonna tell you Franklin, I don’t want their deaths on me because you decided to be an asshole all over $5000?”
He steps towards “Y/N please”
You step away with your hand up “It’s all good Franklin, I hope you put that $1000 to good use” a tear drops from your eyes
“Y/N”
“No hard feelings really Franklin, but you know this can’t work ever, doesn’t matter your explanation.” another tear from your right eye begins to roll down “wish you the best in your business stay safe out there”
“Y/N! No no no no please please please!” he begs gently grabbing your hand trying to stop you but also making sure to not scare you away
You pull your hand away “Goodnight Franklin” you speak before closing the door.
He looks at the door for a moment before turning and walking away towards his car. He turns on the car and begins to drive away “FFFUUUCCCKKKK!” he screams feeling the rage course through him as he speeds on the freeway
Franklin walks in and slams the door causing Jerome to jump up from his seat gun drawn “MOTHAFUCKA I ALMOST SHOT YOU WHAT THE HELL WRONG WITCHU?!”
They hear footsteps before Louie is stand ny the door “JEROME? WHO THE FUCK IS THAT? FRANKLIN!?” she comments frantically looking around for the threat
“Not now” he grits out
“NIGGA WHO YOU THINK YOU TALKIN’ TO?! WALKIN’ UP IN MY HOUSE SLAMMIN’ MY SHIT. I'll FUCK YOU UP!” Jerome bellows
The phone rings and Franklin picks up “Hello?! meet me at Jerome house, now nigga, YES NOW! Bring Sean witchu!”
“WHAT THE HELL GOING ON FRANKLIN WHAT HAPPENED?” Louie asks
“THEM LITTLE MOTHAFUCKAS DONE WENT AND TOLD Y/N ABOUT THE BET!”
“WHAT? WHAT BET?” Louie asks
Jerome looks at Franklin like he has three heads “NIGGA WHAT??? YOU MAD OVER THAT STUPID ASS BET?”
Franklin took major offence to Jeromes accusations, tilting his head to the side “You laughing but if I can't trust them to not tell a bitch about a stupid ass bet I can’t trust them in my shit!! They gone blow up our spot and fuck up our shit.” he points to his head “You not thinking Unc”
Jerome paused and realised the gravity of the situation
“What is this bet? And what it got to do with that lil girl?” Louie asked as she looked between the two
Jerome gently waved her away “I’ll explain it to you later baby just let us be”
Louie scoffed “Shit mothafucka walkin’ in here slamming doors”
“Louie” Franklin commented
“Nigga fuck you!”
Franklin squared up Louie
“AYE! AYE! AYE! WE DON'T NEED ALL THAT NOW!”
Franklin huffed and turned to continue his pace
In 10 minutes Leon and Sean arrived
“Nigga what happened” Leon asked gun already out
“We got some rat ass mothafuckas in our crew look how they got Franklin!” Jerome pokes fun at him “Nigga pacing around and shit over a bitch!” he jokes
“UNC!” Franklin warns
“What... happened?” Sean asked confused
“Y/N told me that niggas from our crew approached her telling her about the bet”
“Soooo...” Leon looked at Franklin confused
“So?” Franklin returned the expression “You niggas not thinking?” he paused “I GOTTA DO ALL THE THINKIN’ AROUND HERE??!!”
“We don’t” Sean speaks trying to rationalise their confusion
“If they running to tell her about a bet, a bet made between everyone in that room, what makes you think they not blowing up our spot?”
The men looked between each other the reality finally setting in for everyone that they could be completely exposed for anything at any moment.
“Our competitors, our opps, our product, our recipe, our schedule, our plug, our money, our peoples” Franklin states
“We got it Nephew” Jerome comments wanting him to not continue hating the feeling of being vulnerable
Franklin chuckled and looked around at them and in a whisper he sneers “and you niggas think I’m mad over a bitch when I got some snake ass mothafuckas in my crew??!! I GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS NIGGA!!”
“My bad” Sean says throwing his hands up
“FFFUUUCK! Round all them niggas up now”
Leon puts his hand up “Now hold on its 2am we ain't bout to be meeting without cops spotting us”
“SHIT!”
“Look lets come up with a solution to figure out who them niggas are we start rounding people up they might start snitching even more” Leon strategizes
Franklin nodded in agreeance “We gonna act like shit aint happen and take them niggas out one by one!”
Jerome nods “Yea I like that plan!”
Franklin sighs and sits down releasing the tension in his body
“We got a plan nephew unless you got something better?”
“No I don't.”
Its silent for awhile with the 3 men (Jerome, Sean, Leon) talking to each other catching up on what they heard or whats going with their product
“Nigga what wrong withchu we have a solution”
Franklin waves him off “Not now Unc,I’m trying to figure out how to fix this shit with Y/N”
“Oh shit,” Leon comments forgetting that you were involved
“Yea nigga, Y/N! they told Y/N!”
“HA-HA you losing your mind over this girl boy! Now you know niggas talk worse than bitches sometimes. Gossipping mothafuckas”
“NOT NOW UNC”
Leon shrugs “just go get another bitch, she aint the only fine girl that we know”
Franklin shot him an incredulous look “I don't want another bitch Leon I want that one!”
“She not special her stuck up ass I bet if you called Tasha now she’ll literally hop the fuck out her bed and come fuck you” Leon wasn’t really a big fan of you, he thought that you acted too good
“I dont want Tasha, I want Y/N and that thing was a fucking mistake i told you that”
“Hell no don’t call that crazy girl up here! Her bat shit ass bout got herself killed trying to sneak in my damn house talking about she just wanna see Frankie” Louie comments
Jerome chortles “BOY YOU HAD THAT GIRL GOING CRAZY BOUT LOST HER FUCKIN’ MIND. DICK HAD HER STUCK NEPHEW!!” he blares out a laugh
Leon, Sean, and Louie join in on the laugh
Franklin ran his hands down his face “We gotta find them or this shit is not gonna last. If they can go run and tell Y/N what else are they doing? Product been going missing lets start there whoever them mothafuckas are they fuckin’ dead!” he grumbled.
Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize
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Selfish
REQUEST: Hey lovely! I've had the opportunity to read your Franklin Saint Series. Loved it, especially since writing for Franklin has been hard to come by. Hoping you might write more for our resident drug dealer (gosh that sounds so bad lol). I thought that pulling from the 20 Dialogue Prompts for each emotion that you reposted would be fun to explore. Starting with Anger, can you either write something for 1. You've never cared about anyone but yourself, or 2. How could you be so reckless? Please Please Please, and thank you so much!
For you, Anon. Happy Finale Night! I hope you enjoy.
Federal Prison.
Dorianne read the words inside her head as she waited for the rusted metal gates to open and grant her access like they did every Friday. Each week, she’d drop Christopher off with his paternal grandmother, stop for a bite to eat right after and, eventually, arrive at the concrete hellsite that would keep her fiancé in chains for the next 30 years.
The nightmare that once plagued her at night had now become her reality.
Her body went into autopilot while she went through security, her expression blank and eyes kept low to avoid judgemental stares. She took what felt like her first breath since she’d left the car once her skin came in contact with their favorite cold metal table in the visiting room.
Dozens of families around her engaged in conversation with loved ones serving varying amounts of time. Some wore smiles and shared spirited stories of back home. Some spoke in hushed tones about more serious, private matters. All of them held a certain sadness in their eyes that only other families affected by incarceration could understand.
Dorianne nervously twisted her engagement ring around her finger in a desperate attempt to ground herself in reality. She thought the first three months would be the hardest. The last nine packed an unimaginable punch that tripled in pain each time she opened her eyes.
“There she is!”
Franklin’s voice pulled her fully into the present as she fought to plaster on a sweet smile for his sake. He looked stockier, his shoulders broad and proud as he slowly made his to Dorianne. She took in the way his facial hair had grown out since the last time they spoke and how his eyes seemed to grow more weary by the week. He’d never admit the truth about his condition. He knew he didn’t need to for her to know the silent battle he’d been fighting since they met.
Metal clinked against metal until they were face to face with what felt like an entire world between them. He smiled then blew a kiss that she pretended to catch before they took seats on opposite sides of the table.
“You look good, baby. Smell good too.”
Het rushed to Dorianne’s face, making her hide a bashful smile behind her hands until the guard was out of earshot.
“Starting early with the flattery, huh? You don’t take a break.”
“It’s not flattery if I’m telling the truth.”
“Yeah. I guess not.” She answer with a sigh. “How you doing? Seems like you’re in good spirits.”
Franklin took a quick look around the room until his eyes landed on an inmate in the corner. He bore a hole into the side of the man’s head as he answered. “I’m making it.”
Following his gaze, Dorianne got a look at his assumed foe and let the corner of her lips fall into a frown. A new adversary drawing his ire could lead to another extended period of no contact between the young couple to add to an already strained relationship.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then what’s all that about? You know him?”
“Stop it.” Franklin’s stern request came through clenched teeth that stopped Dorianne from continuing her line of questioning. Her body tensed once he attempted to soften his expression.
“How’s mama?”
Dorianne swallowed the lump forming in her throat before answering. “Fine. She’s been keeping busy at the shelter with Wanda. They got a kid to come in last week and I think she might try and get Leon to agree to taking her in. She needs all the family she can get right now.”
“That’s good! I know mama’s loving that. She always wanted a granddaughter.”
A wave of sadness came with Franklin’s statement. Before the inevitable, they’d discussed what their family may look like. The mere thought now felt impossible.
Dori fought the urge to grab his hand from across the table and offered a sympathetic look instead. “She does. Now she has one. Marie is her name. Christopher can’t get enough of her.”
The mention of his only son made Franklin’s eyes light up. He shifted in he seat, eager to dig for more information.
“How’s my lil’ man? Mama sent me his pictures. He getting big.”
“And looking just like Jerome. You know, he’ll be walking soon? Cissy’s already had to everything up high after he wrote all over the walls.”
“He’s an artist. Let him create. Maybe he’ll be the one to get through college around here.”
Their laughter quickly turned somber at the thought of Christopher’s future. In every scenario planned, all roads pointed at Franklin being a near myth through the formative years of his life. He wouldn’t be there to witness his sons first steps, first words, first t-ball game or his first heartbreak. He’d miss every graduation and parent-teacher conference unless some stroke of divine blessing granted him an early release. That realization slowly hardened Franklin’s expression, making him shrink back from Dorianne in quiet anger.
“Where’s he at?”
“Where’s who at,” Dorianne asked, feigning ignorance in an effort to divert the conversation.
“You know who the fuck I’m talking about, Dori. Why didn’t you bring my son? This is the fourth fuckin’ time you left him at home.”
She sighed and ran a hand over her head to smooth her ponytail. “He’s not ready, Franklin. This is too much for him right now.”
“Seeing me is too much? I’m his father, Dori!”
“I understand that. I’m not keeping him from you. I’m trying to protect him the best way I know how.”
“What you think I’m some kinda of monster? That I don’t deserve to see my boy?”
“No!”
“Then fuckin’ act like it!”
Franklin’s fist pounded against the metal table before he could gain control of his bubbling emotions. Dorianne sat back in her seat with an incredulous look taking over her face.
“Are you serious right now,” she scoffed. “You want me to act like what? Like this shit is okay? Like my one and only baby should have to leave safety and warmth at home to see his daddy once a week in this hell hole? Fuck that, Franklin and fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” Franklin’s head tilted to one side for a better look at his fiancé. His eye grew dark and intimidating the more he processed her words. “I gave you everything you have and you come in here and say fuck me?”
“Oh whoopty do, Franklin! I won a lifetime supply of stress, federal agent down my back and single motherhood. Some fuckin’ gift! Should I break out the tambourine and praise God or throw a party?”
“So what you here for then, huh! You wanna see me rot firsthand? I set you up for life. I’m trying to give you my fuckin’ last name when the shit could and should’ve gone to any one of the women I seeing before you. You think you special?”
Embarrassment began to set in as Dorianne caught a glimpse of other eyes landing on their position in the center of the room. He’d been callous with his words before, but attacking her parenthood and very existence was becoming far to common. She’d passed it off as stress in the beginning. Now, it was turning into the abuse she’d seen her mother experience first hand. She refused to fall victim.
A shaky breath sent tears rushing to her waterline under their own volition. She hastily wiped them away with the back of her hand before closing her eyes to speak.
“You have never cared about anyone but yourself. You are a selfish, manipulative, cowardly piece of shit, Franklin Saint, and I wouldn’t take your last name if it was given to me on a platter. The only reason you will be remembered in this world is because of our son.”
When she opened her eyes, she found Franklin looking back with remorse in thick in his stare. It was his turn to fight back tears.
“Dori, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean what I said.”
“But I do. I really do. I mean every word and I’m done. I won’t be your step stool anymore and I swear on my grandmother’s grave that we will never be man and wife. I don’t want any of this anymore.”
A single tear fell from Franklin’s water line, down the planes of his cheeks, and onto his shirt.
“I said I’m sorry, baby. You didn’t hear me? I’m sorry!”
“He’ll visit on his first birthday. Not a day sooner. I’ll make sure he gets here once a week just like we agreed.”
“No.”
Dorianne stood from her seat slowly, making sure to maintain eye contact with Franklin as she situated her purse across her body. “I promise not to keep him from you. You have my word. A boy deserve his father. But, we no longer have a relationship beyond our child.”
“Stop it. Don’t say that.”
“I love you so much. God knows I do. I can’t do this anymore.” she continued.
As she began to walk away, Franklin jolted from his seat to follow her until a guard stepped in to keep him seated.
She stood frozen in place while he thrashed against restraints with her name on his lips.
“Dorianne, stop! Don’t fuckin’ say that! I’m sorry!”
Words mixed with remorse caught in her thoat, nearly suffocating her until she was forced to take a deep breath to steady the guilt threatening to force her into a rash decision.
Franklin’s thrashing became more violent as he struggled against two guards forcing him to the ground. Him pleas and cries for help grew louder in Dorianne’s ears until they snapped her back into the present to catch a stern voice asking her to leave the room.
Within seconds, she found herself rushed out of the building and out into the dry afternoon heat with tears uncontrollably sliding down her face. Freedom from the relationship brought with his a painful feeling of emptiness. Any semblance of hope she’d maintained throughout the ordeal had shattered in her hands, leaving her with a million emotional woulds to heal.
The world as she knew it was upside yet again, and this time, she was to blame.
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3, 6, and 13 please!
3. ... that encompasses my style:
It's got marine ooze, it's got something wrong going on in the background, and it's meandering through thoughts without much dialogue. From One's A'self encounter - In lonesome place.
Maura Franklin found that she did not like the Prometheus any better on second acquaintance than she had at the first: the deck was cold underfoot – slick, too, but not only with the marine damp she had accustomed herself to. If she were to bend down, she was sure she would find some silty, primordial ooze, as though the Prometheus had been slumbering at Captain Larsen’s four thousand meters, and only lately returned to the surface. It was not only her vocational hatred of dirt that made her loathe to check her guess.
That was not to say it didn’t tempt – the ragged swathes of some kind of sea-weed that almost remind her of something, the glittering of sediment within the muck. There was something terrible to it – too much discordant information, pointing to wild impossibilities. A sunken ship could not be raised four thousand meters, unless by a miracle, or something like it; it seemed impossible to her eye that the Prometheus could get into such a state without going beneath the waves, somehow. What little she understood of these matters – an item in the papers, now and again, glimpsed under a mug of coffee at her desk – an Irishman turned American named Holland, how could she forget something like that –
6. ... that I struggled with, but triumphed over:
There's a passage in Customs, ch. 25, that took three or four drafts to get the infodump-iness to a manageable size, by way of trying to weld potc into reality.
Lieutenant Gillette did not say where he expected Britain to enter such a conflict, which made Theo assume – with a kind of superiority he admitted was unwarranted – that Lieutenant Gillette was not privy to such knowledge, either. So much for Commodore Clinton’s flag lieutenant, he thought snidely.
“It was this Charles who had claimed Spain’s throne in 1701,” said Norrington, by way of speculating where Gillette’s knowledge had fallen short, speaking of the war they had both been born into, “Though he driven off by his cousin, the current Philip.”
“Has this Philip a claim on the Austrian throne?”
“I doubt it. He was made to relinquish his claim on the French throne as a condition of the end of the late wars; I cannot imagine any power would consent to such a consolidation now. But he is still French.”
Calling this the late war was eliding several smaller wars, but it was not worth belaboring the point: Britain was poised to fight Spain over several slights (imagined or otherwise), its right to sell slaves in Spanish territory, and to suit the humors of bullish braggarts in Parliament; wherever Spain went, then Britain would likely be opposite, and France and Spain had far more in common than they had with Britain, anyway.
This was to be the shape of things, then – little wars strung together into a great strand of blood – Theo was conscious of wrinkling his nose at this, the wine muddling his metaphors. Thank God Norrington couldn’t hear his thoughts! The many sources of such conflict, on an imagined globe, bled outward, like wine dropped on white linen, leaving precious little space unblemished.
13. ... that helped me understand a character better:
I think she feels a little too Austen-y, but I liked writing Elizabeth in the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war -; sorting through what she knows and what she feels, before weighing her instinct a little heavier than the incomplete evidence she has.
And what was a wife but an ornament? On the infrequent occasions he hosted gatherings, Elizabeth and all of Port Royal society could wander past the blades of vanquished opponents as regularly as the more fashionable curios and shelves; Elizabeth could not help but think of the two crossed swords of the French and Dutch garrison commanders of Saint Martin, and how six years ago her father and all of Port Royal society had fallen over their own shoes to compliment young Captain Norrington on so great an accomplishment at so young an age and with so few men under his command – and how that had mirrored so exactly what he had said to her this morning –
What I have not yet achieved.
As if marriage were simply one more item on a list, a hedge to be hurdled as he sprinted towards his inevitable promotion to Admiral, and very likely eventually a seat on the Board of Admiralty –
Though what he needed the Swann influence for there – with his late cousin Byng for many years the senior Naval Lord –
There was something in that, Elizabeth thought, though she was reluctant to pull at the loose end of thought; it seemed nearly kind to attribute Commodore Norrington’s conduct to the workings of the human heart, and – life-debt or no – Elizabeth was not feeling kindly inclined. She was feeling cornered – again, as though this had all been fore-ordained, and she was being yanked along through her paces, like a puppet. As though no matter what she said or did, she would always be returned to the same well-rutted path that wealthy, well-bred women trod between the cradle and the grave.
Send me a number and I'll share an excerpt of my writing!
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Give us the Archangel of Death lineup! :3
Hardest question ever ~ ��
I've been thinking a lot about the line-up as my initial idea was writing OCs based on actual musicians but the idea of writing them as characters is very strong too. I think I'll write some of the plot first to see what idea fits better.
The tentative line-up:
Leif Edling (Candlemass) - bass/songwriter/absolute god
HIM, HIM, HIM! 🖤 of course he'd be doing all the music/lyrics here, involved in recording and producing. He would adopt "Florelle" as a kind of nickname and would sign his lyrics as Leif Erik "Florelle" Edling. May need some French classes to include quotes as lyrics too.
Earl of Void (Reverend Bizarre) - drums
I mean, there's some interesting question about them so definitely would fit for keeping a kind of secret profile drummer, hiding from the spotlight and not revealing too much about them. And the crushing slow base sound would be absolutely needed.
Dave Chandler (Saint Vitus) - guitar
I'm going all for the tone here, like thinking more about how the music would sound. And I read an interview with him (about the Lillie: F-65 album) and he said he improvised the solos for the album and always try do that, so it's interesting to write.
And now, this...
I need a rhythm guitar here (like Mappe does in Candlemass) but I was thinking to add a non-usual-rhythm-guitarrist here just to make this more difficult, I mean, making the process of writing/recording more painful 😈 I was thinking about a guitar player with a kind of a strong personality vibes like John Pérez from Solitude Aeturnus or going for the opposite with someone who gives more chill vibes like Bruce Franklin from Trouble.
And yeah, a vocalist. I need a singer with the whole Saint-Just vibes so maybe I totally should go for an OC here. My first option was blorblo lmao, then I thought of Lee Dorrian from Cathedral. Other of my ideas is an OC based on Messiah Marcolin and Bobby Liebling... but that would be like TOO much to handle, can you imagine?
So I'm still thinking ~
I can't believe you made me to write a long reply and actually put some the ideas in my mind finally in a post 💖
#my fictional doom metal band is called archangel of death#the tag lmao#fics I will never write#but yeah
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girl have you ever thought of writing a franklin saint imagine?
I haven’t but i haven’t watched Snowfall 🫣 lol sorryyyyyy 😭
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ou girl i am feenin for a franklin saint imagine !! can't find shit about him any the fuck where .
I have a few drafts of him that I have to finish but I think imma have to post a lil short since two people done asked for Franklin content 😩
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The stars twinkled above the Only City. The sun shone on the other side of the earth, but there was no doubt it would return in a few hours to warm the City. The sun is a constant to humanity, always has been.
Roque had gone to bed at the same time as the sun, exactly eight o'clock pm, a firm believer in Benjamin Franklin virtuousness. Around midnight, his leg had started to ache. As he'd done many times before, he strapped the brace to his twisted limb and hobbled downstairs for painkillers, trying not to put pressure on his throbbing calf. He didn't normally have to limp, the brace made it so both legs were the same length and it didn't hurt most of the time. He'd had the deformation since he was born so naturally, he'd learned to live with it, and not to let it slow him down. People weren't going to wait for him to catch up if he fell behind because life, unfortunately, dictated the survival of the fittest.
As Roque made his way downstairs to the kitchen, he noticed a faint golden glow from the bottom of the stairs. He dismissed it as the streetlight outside the kitchen's picture window. It wasn't the streetlight.
He nearly had a heart attack when he turned the corner to the kitchen and saw a young woman sitting on one of his stools at the kitchen counter. She glowed the color of sunset, having the unsettling appearance of molten lava roiling like a nest of adders beneath clear skin. Like a lava lamp, he thought. Her molten eyes turned on him and their piercing gaze was almost physically painful. Roque made an inhuman sound. They stared at each other for what felt like hours until Roque remembered he possessed the ability to speak.
"A-are you an angel?" Roque asked stupidly. He didn't know why he wasn't running right now. Calling Thea or his dad. Of course she wasn't an angel. What even.
"Not really." The woman replied. Roque almost relaxed a little, because she had a beautifully comforting voice. She sounded like she could be a mother.
"Am I dead?" Roque asked, half to himself.
"Do you smell almonds?"
"What?"
"When I died, I recall distinctly smelling almonds."
"So you're a ghost?" Roque was dreaming. He was dreaming all of this. That was the only explanation.
"Can I help you with something..? Do you want tea?" He babbled. This was probably a hallucination. Why was he offering tea to a figment of his imagination? Roque strove to be a polite host in all situations but this was too far. This was a kitchen ghost, for Saint Peter's sake. She shook her head, declining the offer. He noticed that her hair floated slightly longer in the air than a gravity-obeying object should. Of course her hair didn't obey physics. Why would it.
"I look strange to you." The woman-creature stated.
"Yeah, a little." Roque replied in wonder.
"I came to ask you a question."
"Okay? Go ahead, I guess."
"I would like to tell you my son's story, if you'll listen. I thought it might be helpful to you."
"I would, but I have to go back to bed. I have to work tomorrow." He was not going to waste his night talking to someone who was probably not real. His leg hurt still. And he was so, so tired.
"It will take no time. Please, I don't have many hours left on this plane of existence. And I leave joyfully, so I will be glad to make it short."
She seemed to be sincere. Roque's conscience wanted him to stay as well. The woman may be just a figment of his imagination, but she looked almost desperate to tell her story, and if she was about to die, the least he could do was be with her in her last hour. He didn't see anyone else around to comfort her. And death was terrifying.
"Alright, I'll listen."
She smiled softly. "My name is Astoria. I was once a star. I believe your kind called me Polaris. And your name is Roque Saphelt Harrelle. A true mouthful, but a pretty name in my opinion, and it honors your heritage well."
Roque's jaw seemed to forget that it could close. "How did you know my name? You were the North Star?"
She merely smiled at him, and again he thought how much like a mother she looked. Kind eyes that crinkled at the edges. Short, lovely, but practical hair. Eternal wisdom hidden behind young features.
"Come." The woman, Astoria, did not answer his questions but instead gestured for him to follow her. Roque had no idea why, but he obeyed. He let her lead him out the front door of the duplex he called home into his front yard. Only it wasn't his front yard any more. He gawked at the new surroundings. Ruined, smoking buildings crumbled like dying giants in the distance. The sky was a hazy yellow-red and the air smelled like death. It looked like the Only City, just, well, utterly devastated. What had happened here? He turned to stare at where his home had been moments ago, and saw a building that was still relatively intact. A school. The sight of a learning institution in the midst of the desolate, groaning surroundings was jarring. Astoria walked lightly to the window and peered in to one of the classrooms. She motioned for Roque to join her at the window, and he made his way across the grey-grassed schoolyard, avoiding broken glass.
'There he is." She pointed to a boy, sitting in the back of the classroom, peering out the window. The boy seemed to stare directly at Roque and he stepped back from the window hastily.
"It's okay." Astoria assured him. "They can't see us. We are merely accessing the echoes of the past that still reverberate through the plane of time."
"Oh." Roque was too overwhelmed to say anything else. He returned to the window to get a better look at the boy. He was wearing a red sweater, carefully patched black jeans, and looked cleaner than most of the other thirty or so kids in the room. He looked like he was taken care of.
He had thick black hair and deep blue eyes that seemed to reflect the very universe back at Roque. He looked lonely.
"That's your son?" Roque asked Astoria. She smiled and nodded.
"He doesn't look like you." Roque stated. Obviously. The boy wasn't a glowing yellow kitchen ghost.
"I didn't always look like this." Astoria sighed. "Before I died, I looked very much like him. He had my eyes, and his father's face."
"What's his name?"
Astoria took a deep breath.
"He was Junius Remus, named for the month of his birth. He saved your life."
First | Next
#ta#the anathemans#idk what this is#not very good#but nobody except jess will see this so#hi jess#oc#my ocs#our ocs#that ones for you jessie#cringes#so hard
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constantly thinking about gta v’s themes surrounding religion and righteousness, sin and sinners. how it takes place in the city of saints. how michael attempts to absolve himself of his past sins by taking on a surname that means “holy” or “saintly”, how he is referred to as pseudo-messianic by lester in reference to his “resurrection”. how lamar coins the trio’s nickname: the unholy trinity. how the song nine is god from the ost is referencing the 9mm pistol franklin uses in endings a and b and referring to it as his god, his only true guiding force.
how each character has run-ins with religious groups that exemplify their particular hang-ups: michael joins epsilon to have control, power, be a god. trevor sacrifices hitchhikers to the altruists to be the arbiter of judgement upon those who have judged him. franklin corresponds with the children of the mountain in order to find self-confidence and purpose.
how trevor refers to his and michael’s meeting as a “baptism”. how trevor’s need to be outside of the mainstream and expose the hypocrisy of society means him taking on every imaginable vice, performing every taboo, becoming the enemy of “righteousness” in favor of the naked truth, the scapegoat for the world’s wickedness. how during michael’s funeral the preacher begins speaking about how jesus was crucified next to two thieves, one penitent and one impenitent, one who aspires to righteousness (michael always thought of himself as “the good guy”) and one who rejects it entirely (trevor is “hell walking on earth”), and how franklin’s ultimate ending finds him breaking that false dichotomy and unceremoniously remarrying good and evil.
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Through the Fire
Pairing: 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. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving), size kink, all consensual. Praise kink, dirty talk. Mention of jail, drug use, guns, and violence. Angst. Established relationship. Spoilers for season 2 of Snowfall.
Summary: The night that Franklin shot Kevin, he made one stop before seeing his mom.
Word Count: 4,424k
A/N: Hello brainrot. Did I mention the brainrot? Because I have major brainrot. FX knew not to show them nasty ass sex scenes for him because I would be UNWELL. Anywhooo, I couldn't stop writing. This hurt me. I hope it both hurts you and makes you feral LOL. Thank you so much for the love on my first Franklin fic! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!
Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe
The loud banging at your door made you nervous. No one knocked like that and it meant something good. It was either the police or some shit you didn’t want to deal with. You crept to the living room and looked out of the peephole. There was no one there.
The banging persisted and you turned to the sound, following the sound to your back door. You pulled aside the curtain on the door and saw Franklin looking over his shoulder. You opened the door.
“Franklin? What–?”
Franklin pushed past you into your kitchen. Cold air from outside hit your exposed arms and legs from the shorts and tank top you wore. “He’s dead.”
You closed the door behind Franklin and locked it behind him. The lights were still off thankfully and you peeked through the curtains, watching for anything suspicious. Though you didn’t know what you were looking for.
Franklin paced the dark kitchen rubbing his hands and his breaths were shaky and stuttered. “Who’s dead, Franklin?”
You’d never seen him like this. Franklin was the definition of cool and calm. Dread knotted in your stomach. ‘He’ could refer to anyone. You thought of Leon, Jerome, Kevin, Officer Wright. Naw. Franklin wouldn’t be this upset if it was that asshole Wright.
Franklin rubbed his head and you crossed the room. “Franklin, talk to me,” you said.
He was too agitated. He shook his head as he paced. “Is your moms home?”
“She workin’ late. Franklin, you’re scaring me.”
Franklin couldn’t take a full breath. In a minute, he was going to put a groove into the kitchen tile. “I told him! I told that muthafucka that somethin’ like this was gon happen. He didn’t wanna listen!”
You stepped closer to Franklin and grabbed him by the shoulders so he would stop pacing. Your head spun watching him go back and forth like a ping pong ball. Franklin stopped but wouldn’t look you in the eye.
“Tell me what’s going on, baby,” you said. You squeezed his shoulders. Franklin’s harsh breathing nearly echoed in the silent kitchen. Every sound was heightened and only served to put you more on edge.
“Kevin…Kevin’s dead. Because of me,” Franklin said softly. His face crumpled and he dug his hands into his eyes. A choked gasp escaped him. You realized that he was crying. Your heart shattered as you pulled him into a hug.
“What do you mean, Franklin?” He was saying words but it wasn’t making sense. You were no idiot. You knew what Franklin and his little friends were up to. You made him promise to leave that shit outside. So far, there haven't been any problems.
Franklin shivered in your embrace, his crying quiet and soft. You hated this for him. There was so much you didn’t know, that you wanted to shake from him. You wanted to demand answers. You wanted to yell and scream. None of that would help the situation. You needed to be calm for his sake.
You rubbed Franklin’s back, soaking in the feel of him. He had to bend at an awkward angle in order to put his chin on your shoulder. Surely, it would start to hurt him. You pulled away and glanced at his face.
Franklin’s eyes were unfocused, seeing something in his mind’s eye that you had no idea of. Whatever it was, left his eyes wide. You hated that look in his eyes. You pulled him towards the living room.
Franklin stopped and shook his head. He directed you towards your room in the back of the house. Bright light bathed your room and you cringed a bit at all of the girly shit. The Michael Jackson posters in your room. The comforter with flowers all over it.
Franklin turned off the light. The sudden absence of light gave you a flash of a headache as your eyes adjusted. The moonlight hit your room in such a way that you could still see most of Franklin’s features but not much else.
Franklin sat on the edge of your bed and pulled you next to him. You sat close to him and he put his head on your shoulder once more. You wrapped your arm around him and scratched his head idly.
“Please, baby, I’m scared,” you whispered.
“I shot Kevin. I thought…I shot him in the leg. He was gon be fine! Me and Leon had to leave him there,” Franklin told you. “We left him.”
Franklin’s voice broke and you kissed his head, absorbing the information. Franklin shot Kevin? It didn’t make sense. It was so out of character for Franklin. You remembered all the conversations you and Franklin had about guns. About protecting himself. But as more of a scare tactic. You didn’t want him to get beat up like he did when he first started all of this.
You shuddered remembering how hurt he was then. His face all swelled up and blood was sticking to his face. You told him then that you didn’t want something like that to ever happen again. You tolerated the guns because you knew he’d never use them unless he absolutely had to.
“Tell me everything, Franklin,” you whispered against his skin.
Franklin told you everything. About Kevin’s cousin still selling in Mexican territory. About the senseless murder. How Kevin screamed for the guy’s head no matter the cost to the business. Kevin wanted war and blood and violence. Franklin did what he could but he knew that if Kevin ever found out who did it, there would be no talking him down.
And that’s exactly what happened. Kevin betrayed Franklin. Sold the recipe to the Mexicans for the name of the man who murdered Kevin’s cousin. Kevin went to the park to kill the man in broad daylight, all the other people be damned.
“There were kids there,” Franklin said and sniffed. “He didn’t care. What it would mean for us or for him.”
“You did what you had to do, baby. I’m sorry. But if Kevin succeeded, you could be laying in a ditch somewhere,” you said. You knew your morals were messed up. But when it came to Franklin, nothing else mattered. You didn’t want that phone call. You dreaded it. You had enough nightmares about it to last you a lifetime.
“He’s my best friend,” Franklin said. He buried his head in your shoulder. Warm, wet tears slid down onto your tank top. You held him and let him cry it out. You didn’t know how to help him.
He needed some rest, truthfully. To sit with that he did. “Is that why you’re here? The cops are on you?”
Franklin shrugged and told you the rest. About an agent being on scene. Leon drove away fast enough that he should be safe. But he didn’t want you hearing anything about him from the streets. It was too risky to call. Riskier still to make the trek here.
You stayed across the street from him so it wasn’t entirely suspicious for him to be caught near here. Still. You wondered if he wouldn’t be safer in one of his properties. Something not tied to him.
Your mind raced thinking of how to keep him safe. Franklin’s shoulders shook one last time and he wiped his face.
“I’m so tired,” he said.
You scooted back in the bed and tugged on his arm. He kicked off his shoes and got into bed, placing his head on your stomach. He wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tightly. You stroked his head and kissed him periodically until his breathing evened out. He slept while your mind ran a mile a minute.
So many emotions and thoughts ran through you. How safe was he with you? How exposed was he in the streets and all these drugs? What the hell was an agent doing at that park? Did someone see them? Their car? Franklin was the smartest man you knew. You knew that for every question you thought of, he likely already thought of the solution. Still. The worry gnawed on you like a dog with a bone.
Time passed where you must have fallen asleep, because when you opened your eyes, Franklin was kissing your neck.
“Franklin?” You asked groggily. What time was it? Felt late. The moon was still out. Your window was open and a light breeze ruffled the curtains.
“I need to feel somethin’ other than…this,” he said.
“You need rest. We gotta come up with a plan or…”
“Please. Baby,” Franklin said and kissed you. He licked his lips and dived in for another kiss, longer and deeper this time. “You’re the only one who feels safe. Feel like home,” he said. He placed his forehead against yours and took a deep breath.
How could you deny him this? Outside was insane. Kevin was dead, there’s possible agents after him. On top of everything else…Franklin was constantly under stress. He took on so much responsibility.
You nodded. You kissed his cheek and then the other one. Franklin leaned up and his palm came up to cradle your cheek. You kissed his palm. His thumb feathered across your cheek before pulling you close into a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and held him to you.
You’d give him everything you had. You’d ground him in whatever way you were able. If he needed to kiss, you’d kiss. If he needed your hands on him, you’d do that too. If he needed a ride out town, then you’d find a way.
Franklin kissed down your neck, to your chest. He kissed over the top of your tank top before yanking it higher and exposing your breasts. He played with them, rubbing it between his hands and pushing your breasts together. He kissed one and then the other, before flicking his tongue out.
You moaned and he wrapped his lips around your nipple. “Fuck,” you moaned. Each suckle of your nipple sent shivers right down to your pussy, making you contract and clench. Franklin blew his breath over the wet nipple and then moved on to the other one.
You pulled at his shirt and pulled it over his head, exposing his chest. You ran your hands over the expanse of his body. He shivered at your touch on him. He grabbed your hand and kissed your palm, then your forearm, and the crook of your elbow.
You leaned forward and kissed him, rising up. He followed you and you pushed at his shoulders until he laid down on your bed. He looked at you with a question in his eyes.
You couldn’t help much when it came to his business. You didn’t want to be involved. Sticking your head in the sand wasn’t much better. But there was nothing you could do. You didn’t know shit about business. Not like Franklin. However, you knew this. You knew him.
You knew that you could make him feel good and forget for a little while. To help him reset and think more clearly about all of this.
You got off the bed and pulled at Franklin’s legs, moving him to the edge of the bed. You unzipped his pants and pulled both it and his boxers off.
“Baby,” Franklin said.
You put a finger on his lips and sank to your knees. Your bed was a little high for what you wanted to do. You stood back up and grabbed a pillow, putting it under your knees. It made you level with his thick, long dick. He was getting harder by the minute.
You reached out and touched him. He hissed as he watched you. Studied you. It was like he was committing all of this to memory. You didn’t want it to be a memory. You were going to figure all of this shit out. He was going to stay safe.
You kissed his thigh and watched his reaction. He smirked at you. “Don’t just play with it,” he said.
Ignoring him, you stroked his dick and played with the precum beading on the tip. You kissed his balls and kissed a trail up his dick. Franklin sighed as he moved, leaning back on the bed on his elbows.
You licked his dick and he twitched on the bed. You inhaled the musky scent of him. You fondled his balls, rolling one between your fingers nice and slow. His breathing picked up, little hisses of groans.
“You are an evil woman,” he said with a chuckle.
You giggled and sucked the head of his dick into your mouth. “Oh fuck,” Franklin said. You popped it back out with a loud smack.
You waited and looked at him. Franklin looked down at you and smirked. “C’mon baby,” he said. You grinned and gave in. Some other time, you could tease him all you wanted. He always paid back in kind, but for now, he needed this quick and easy release.
You sucked him back into your mouth, as many inches as you could fit. You started to bob your head, getting his dick nice and wet. You slobbered as you pleasured him. Franklin let fly a string of curses and moans, rolling his head back.
His hand dug into your scalp and pulled your hair back. “Just like that. Fuck, just like that,” Franklin coached. You kept going, doing exactly what he wanted. Spit slipped out the side of your mouth and dripped down your chin. Franklin watched it slide and you could’ve sworn that his strokes increased. His thick dick nearly hit the back of your throat.
Franklin’s moans grew frantic. He couldn’t move your head anymore, his hand slipping. You opened your eyes and watched his head fall back. His jaw went slack. A last, strangled moan escaped him before his dick pulsed and hot jets of cum shot down your throat. You swallowed and licked it all up.
You moved your mouth off of him and kept stroking with your hand. He hissed and the look he gave you…it was ravenous. “Get that ass on this bed,” he said.
You grinned and stood up, shimmying out of your shorts. Franklin moved to the front of the bed. He laid on his back and pulled you by the arms. You straddled him and looked down into his eyes. It was always strange to look down on him for once. His height always forced you to look up at him.
To look up to his vision for the future. You spent plenty of time listening to him. He was like an old school Panther or activist the way he talked about the community. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth.
Franklin ran his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. He caressed your lower back. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he rasped.
You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. You intended to give him all of the comfort you could. He quickly took over, kissing you deep and slow. You had all the time in the world to kiss him. Love on him.
Franklin shifted and moved you. His dick pushed into your wet heat and you shared a groan. “Franklin,” you whispered.
“Love my name on your lips,” he said. He kissed you again. He didn’t move. The thickness of him pulsed and twitched inside of you. He was content to sit and kiss you. His tongue slipped inside. He kissed and sucked on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and releasing it.
He licked your lips. Explored your mouth. Each pass of his tongue against yours made your pussy contract and arousal flood his dick. “Like that shit, don’t you?” He asked.
You nodded. “Franklin, I love everything you do to me,” you said. You kissed him. “This right here? This is us. We’re the only things that matter,” you said.
“I just wanna make you feel good, baby,” he said.
“You make me feel so good,” you said.
“Yeah? Let me hear it then,” he said. He started to move his hips, sliding you up and down on his dick.
“Oh, oh shit,” you said. It was like he pulled the words from you. He dick stretched you out but in this position, it was comfortable. Your thighs were on either side of him. Your hands braced on his shoulders as you looked into each other's eyes.
There was still no sense of urgency. He moved slowly, pulling all the way out and then pushing back in and watching the way your eyes rolled. Your jaw would hang open, the breath stolen from your lips.
His hands gripped your waist, almost bruising. It only turned you on more. His moans fueled your own. “Feel so good,” you moaned.
“Shit, baby. Grip that dick,” he said. His head rested against your headboard, his eyes rolling back with a smile on his face. You loved when he got like this. When he let himself be free and open.
Your orgasm was building slowly but steadily. Climbing higher towards that delicious peak. “Franklin, please. Let me cum,” you begged. If he would go faster, you’d already be flying high.
Your hands traveled up, cuddling him close. You buried your head into the crook of his neck.
“Mm-uh, I wanna feel everything,” he said.
He continued that slow, tortured pace. The sound of your lovemaking squelched in the silent house. There was just you and him. Joined. Connected.
“Oh fuck, Franklin. That’s it,” you said. He managed to hit a spot deep inside of you.
“Oh, I like that,” he said. He hit that spot, over and over. Your moans turned wild and crazy. You bit his shoulder as that peak neared. You bounced on his dick as he routinely hit your spot.
“Oh fuck me,” you moaned.
“Just like that, baby. So fuckin’ beautiful. Never letting you go. Never letting this pussy go.”
You came on a loud curse, your legs shaking and your body going boneless. Franklin wrapped his strong arms around you and held you through it. “That’s it. Let it go,” he said as you talked you through it.
When you were done, you panted and moved to get off of him. He shook his head, capturing your lips once again. His dick twitched inside of you. He kissed you and he leaned up, taking you with him.
He laid you onto your back, kissing you. Rubbing your back and your thighs. He hiked one leg up and over his hip. The other, he spread wide. Then he started to pound into you like a man possessed.
His dick speared you over and over again. It robbed you of all thought. There was nothing but his dick hitting that spot again.
“Mhmm, take that dick,” he whispered harshly.
“Fr-Fra-”
“Mm-uh, just keep taking that dick.” He moved your tank up, gripping onto your titty and licking your nipple.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Fuck me, baby,” you screamed. You were leaning on one elbow and your free hand pushed at his chest. You just needed your bearings. But your hand slipped on his sweaty chest. Moonlight caught some of it, making it glisten.
“Mhmm, mhhm,” Franklin moaned.
You slapped his chest. His dick kept sliding in and out, slick with your arousal. You looked into his eyes. There was so much love and lust there, shining through his eyes. He kept eye contact, never breaking pace, as he leaned forward and kissed you.
“Who this shit belong to?” He asked.
“You, you, you,” you moaned. You were so close. Your moans and cries grew louder as your orgasm approached.
“This pussy yours, baby. All yours,” you managed to croak out.
“All mine?”
You could only manage a nod. Between his dick and your moans, you didn’t have time for anything else.
He pinched your nipple and you gasped. It surprised the orgasm out of you. Wave after wave of pleasure suffused you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head while your vision blacked out.
Franklin groaned and pumped you full of him. Spurts of cum shot into you, filling you to the brim.
You collapsed together, panting and laughing at what you just experienced. He smacked kisses all over your sweat slick skin.
“Thank you, baby,” he said in between kisses.
“You never have to thank me for that,” you said.
“Yes, I do. My mama always told me to be thankful for what’s mine,” he said with a devilish smirk.
You smacked his shoulder and he laughed. He slid out of you and his cum came leaking out. You groaned at the feeling. He got up and disappeared down the hall and came back with a wet rag. He helped clean you up and then he slid into bed beside you and pulled you close.
You both grew quiet. You listened to the strong thump of his heart. You were halfway to sleep, cuddled into his side.
“Baby?” Franklin asked.
“Hm?” You asked.
“Do you think I’m a monster?” He asked.
You turned to face him. The moonlight cast shadows on his face so he was half in profile. He didn’t look at you, he stared out of the window.
“You are the smartest, greatest man I know. You can never be a monster. Never.”
“What kind of great man kill they own best friend?” He asked.
“You didn’t know.”
Franklin shook his head, refusing to meet your eyes. “There could’ve been a different way,” he said.
“If there was, you would’ve found it. Things were moving too fast, like you said.”
Franklin took a deep breath but he was retreating from you. You could tell. He was closing in on himself, locking away the sweet man you’ve come to know. The walls that you’d spent months pulling down were building back up. Brick by brick.
“You’re not a monster, you have to believe that,” you said. You needed him to see. Before he disappeared completely behind those walls, you needed him to understand that crucial part.
“I need to go,” he said. He didn’t move but it was like he didn’t hear you. Nothing you’d say would get through to him.
“Franklin, don’t. What if there are people looking for you?”
“If they are, I don’t want to bring ‘em here. You’ve done enough for me. I love you,” he said. He kissed you, pouring unspeakable emotion into this kiss. It was unnameable. Something you could only feel in the tug of your soul.
“I love you. Stay here with me,” you said.
Your mom would flip so you thought of places to hide him. Your mom usually came right in, checked on you, and then went to bed. All Franklin had to do was lay on the floor until then.
Franklin kissed your cheek and got up from the bed. He started pulling on his clothes. His face closed down. He was not the same, scared person that showed up earlier that night. He was distant. Walled off. A pillar or a statue now, immoveable.
“Franklin, please,” you cried.
You stood up as well. He pulled on his boxers and jeans. You grabbed his shirt and yanked. You got into a tug of war as Franklin pulled the shirt from your grasp. He leaned down and kissed you, his hand caressing your cheek.
“I have to do this. I’ll see my mom and then I’ll get out of town for a bit,” he said. He tried to smile but it was too quick. Too fake.
“I’ll come with you,” you said. You didn’t care what you had to tell people. He couldn’t do this. But once Franklin got something in his head, there was no turning back. There was no talking him down.
“No. You have to stay here. Your moms will kill me,” he said with another fake ass grin. You groaned and pulled your panties and shorts back on. Franklin kissed your cheek and left the room. You hopped on one foot, trying to pull your shorts up. One side got caught under your foot. You cleared it and pulled your shorts up and ran after him. Fuck him and his long ass legs.
“Franklin! Franklin, don’t!” You pulled at his arm and he swung it, knocking you loose. He left through the back door. You couldn’t call after him. You searched the ground for your shoes. Fuck! Why was everything so fucking hard to find in the dark?
You slipped on a pair of flip flips and left the house but Franklin was nowhere to be found. You searched the dark backyard, looking for any sign of movement. You cursed softly and placed your hands on your head, rocking back and forth on your heels.
You went back inside, headed towards the phone in the living room. You picked it up and the dial tone sounded. Movement out of the window caught your eye. You put the phone back on the receiver and moved towards the window.
You peeked out from behind the curtain and saw numerous cop cars rolling silently. Their lights were off. You followed them with your eyes. They stopped in front of your house, in front of Franklin’s mom’s house. There was a soft glow of light on the inside.
“Franklin, no!” You went back to the phone, dialing the number. At that moment, the sirens sounded. Red and blue lights flooded your house, a swirling mix that only spelled danger. “Franklin,” you gasped.
You left your front door. The neighborhood left their front doors, heading outside in a mix of robes, rollers, and house slippers. Cold air slapped against your skin as you watched Franklin getting marched out of the front door by police officers. He was struggling and looked scared.
His mom called after him and yelled at the cops. You stood transfixed. This felt like it was happening to someone else. It felt like a television program. Any minute, it would turn to the commercial and leave this awful scene.
Your chest caved in as Franklin looked at you from over the hood of the cop car. He mouthed, “I love you.”
You did the same thing back. He was shoved into the cop car and the door slammed. It made you jump. Burning hot tears streamed down your face. The streetlights and red and blues swam in your vision.
You watched your future drive away and all you could do was stand there and watch.
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Franklin Part 2.
Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word
After that day you spend a good amount of time trying to avoid Franklin and that was by simply not hanging out with Harmony. There was no way you could get tied up in Franklin not after you see how Melody turned out. It was like the man was a blackhole and everything seemed okay at one time and point until it didn’t and there was no going back. You keep your head down and only focus on the things that mattered, working, passing classes and getting the fuck outta south central.
You hear a knock on your door, you put down the book and open the door not thinking twice. You instantly regret it seeing Franklin standing in front of you.
“Hey!” you greet
“Hey Y/N”
“Whats up? you need something Harmony’s not here” you hoped and prayed that's why he was here so he could quickly leave
“Nah I came to see you,” he looks around, making sure no one was watching
“Oh why?” You ask
“Can I come in?” He asks
“OH! Yea Yea!” you move back quickly “shit sorry”
He smiles “it's cool” you watch him walk in he was tall, your 5’4 frame was nothing compared to his. And now that you had no heels on, the height difference was really apparent. He also looked bigger? Did he get swole in jail?
“Sooo what's up?” you comment wanting this to be over with as soon as possible. You hoped he wasn’t going to ask you to go on a drug run. Because no wasn’t an option for this man.
“I came to see you, see how you doing” he commented sitting by the bar stool in the kitchen
“Tasha know you here?” you ask wearily walking to the other side of the counter
He scoffed “why would I tell Tee I'm coming here?”
“Because after that party we got into it, and i'm not trying to “steal her man” from up under her so does she? I should call her” you go to grab the phone
“Girl hang up that phone” he commands
“Franklin, why are you here?” you ask again
“I just came to talk to you damn! is that a crime?”
“It is if you have a girlfriend!”
“I don’t, me and Tee aint a thing, never were never will be! Damn!”
You look at him in disbelief “Doesn’t seem that way the way you two be all over each other”
“Nah she's all over me, don’t get it twisted”
You roll your eyes “Whatever, what is it that I can get you Franklin?”
He smiles “how you been? What’s been going on with you?”
“Fine, how are you?” you answer curtly where was this conversation going, you hoped acting like a bitch would rub him the wrong way make him lose interest fast
“I’m doing good now” You roll your eyes, he chuckles “Damn why you so cold?”
“I’m not!” you roll your neck
“You are to me you be treating a nigga like I’m some beggar or shit!”
“I don’t!” you counter offended you didn’t you just wanted him to find other interests
“You do!” he argues
“Franklin” you open the fridge and pull out the lemonade you made recently
“Alright shit,” he throws his hands up “have dinner with me next weekend”
You look at him before responding “no”
“Why not?”
“Because you and Ta..”
He points his fingers at you “Don't you mention that girl!” he warns
You shrug “Okay well the answer still remains no”
“But why?”
“Why do you wanna go out with me? We don't even hang out!”
He smiles “You got a pretty smile, you smart as hell, there’s something about you and i wanna find out more” You give him a deadpan face, “come on what a guy gotta do to get you to go out with them?” You shrug in response because you honestly didn’t know either “Come on please”
“Here” you say handing him the lemonade
You look at him for a few moments still not saying anything weighing out your options, you could go out with him, and sabotage the date and then bam
“Y/N” he calls you bringing you out of your thoughts
“Yeaaa” you respond happily that you have a solution to your problem
“I would love to have dinner with you. May I please take you out to dinner?”
You continue to look at him a smile starting to form on your face. “Hmm?” He asks smiling
You look up at the ceiling then him take in a deep breath “Sure”
“That was it? I just had to ask you properly and shit” he asks in disbelief
“No that wasn’t it” you weren’t going to tell him about testing him seeing how he reacted to you saying no, a man like him you need to see if he had a hot temper,
He points behind him with his thumb “I just asked you out like a minute ago and you said no”
“No” you leaned in moving closer to his face “you commanded me to go out with you and i don’t do commands”
“Yes ma'am” he whispered looking at your lips then back at you, biting his lip
You straighten up “I wanna be home before midnight!” you add
“Yes ma'am!” he grins
“Where are we going?”
He stands up from his stool towering over you “Damn woman let me plan, i got this i'm a man after all!”
“Okay, man”
“I’ll be here by 7 we’ll have reservations for 8 you just worry about getting pretty for me”
You roll your eyes “okay.”
And bring that smile he says before opening the door to leave
You pull your lips in and nod trying to hide your smile. You hear him chuckle before leaving
You can’t help but replay Harmony’s comment, you had to live your life, one way you were gonna do that was by sabotaging the entire thing and the worst could happen was that he thought you were boring which actually could be to your advantage that way the men stop bugging you and so would Harmony.
You don’t say anything to Harmony but she finds out anyway, which made you suspect that Franklin went running his mouth.
“Why the fuck aint you tell me you and Franklin got a date?” she asks as she walks into the house
“Because I wanted to keep it private”
She rolls her eyes, “we’re best friends why aint you tell me?”
“Incase nothing came of this date you know like we decide to not date” you shrug
“Girl please” she rolls her eyes “and why wont it?” she takes a seat on the couch
You shrug “I dont know i’m just saying plus i’m not trying to hear it from Tasha again”
“You know damn well him and Tee didn’t have a thing”
“I know they fucked I know that and he was probably telling her the same shit he telling me now”
“He’s not.” she says
“How do you know?”
“I just do, if he approached you like he did Tasha you would have slapped that nigga”
“Wowwww okayyyy anyway I’m not tryna deal with his mama either”
She moves and sits next to you and wraps her arm around you pulling you in “How about we focus on right now and not the future, why not enjoy the moment for what it is and not ruin it by thinking about a future that might not happen. Hmm? How that sound?”
You sigh heavily “fine”
“So what you got to wear? This is so exciting!”
You shrug “i’ll find something”
She gives you a pointed look “Please dress up”
“I will”
“Good cuz i know how you like your jeans and shit”
You sigh “I will dress uuuup”
“Good!” she smiles
You smile back, you had actually planned to dress up but she gave you a good idea. Instead of waiting till dinner to sabotage why not start as soon as he arrives.
As planned Franklin showed up to your doorstep at 7pm you were expecting him to be late, you smirk to yourself, ready to carry out your plan.
“Hey!” you greet him as you open the door, in your usual jean, tee, sneaker combo
“Hey gorgeous!” he looks at your attire expecting you to be semi dressed “I got these for you" he says handing you the bouquet of flowers
“Okay Casanova” he laughs “thanks for these you didn’t have to”
“I wanted to” you smile in response and proceed to place the flowers in a vase “You came from the store or something?”
“No why?” He looks you up and down, this time making it obvious that he was analyzing you
“Here” you say handing him a glass of cold cola
He looks down at his watch “we still got sometime”
“For what?”
“Before we gotta leave for our date!”
“Oh! Yeaaaa” you look down and do your best to hide your smile, “i cant wear this?”
“No! I got on slacks and a button down” He motions to himself
You try not to laugh “oh i have nothing to wear Franklin, you told me to dress nice, this is nice no?”
He huffs “shit we can go to the mall” and he stops as he sees you trying to hide your smile “stop fucking playing with me and go change”
“I have nothing Franklin” you say a grin on your face
“Y/N I’m not fucking with you go change!”
You roll your eyes “you’re no fun”
“You got 30 minutes you better hurry up or i'm carrying you in the car no matter how you look” he warns
“Sir yes sir!”
You quickly change into the dress you had picked out, do your hair, dab makeup on your face, put your heels on and spray your perfume. You smile to yourself before walking out your room
“Okay I'm ready!" you say "with only 3 minutes to spare!”
He looks up at you and smiles “you look good”
“Thank you sergeant” you salute
You hear him groan and try to suppress your giggle. The rest of the night follows suit, you do your best to just irritate him to where he refuses to deal with you again.
“I got a question for you?”
“I’m ready” you comment as you two eat your sunday at Baskin Robbins (which y’all i looked into this 4 scoop ice cream 4 topping was only $2! Can’t even get a scoop now for $2. 😭)
“Why you trying to sabotage our date?”
He shocked you that’s for sure you weren’t expecting him to catch on “What are you talking about?" you feign ignorance
“You don't think I don’t know you tryna get under my skin?”
“Is it working?” you dig your spoon into the ice cream
He scoffs "No, in fact it's making me wanna see this thing through just to annoy you!" he looks at you intensely. You chuckle nervously in response “Come on, tell me why you trying to sabotage this?”
“I..” you blush “I don’t know Franklin, what if we are just too different” you look down at the sunday
“How you figure? I like to read too shit, i like to stay to myself too!” he moves his head to get your eye contact “hmm?”
You look up and then towards him you open your mouth to say something but can't think of a good reason
“Hmm?” He tilts his head
You shrug “I don’t really know your world, how could i be a good match? I mean like what if....”
He interrupts you “My world? What I do to make money has nothing to do with who I am in a romantic relationship” he states
You take in a spoon full of icecream to gather your thoughts “How do you figure?”
“Because one is business one is personal”
“And you dont think theres a potential conflict of interest?”
“How would there be?”
“You’re not two people”
“Nah but i do a damn good job compartmentalising when i'm with you its just that you and me, shit you aint seen me check my pager once and when i leave you and go handle business then thats what im doing”
You nod and remain silent thinking his explanation through
“What else you got?” he jokes grinning at you
“I... mm-mm” you shake your head
He leans in “Why don't you just admit that you scared!”
“I’m not!” you lean back
“Girl!” He pulls his lips to the side giving you the side eye “You be avoiding me, looking away, hiding when we in a party, you be waving and disappearing like you don’t want me to talk to you”
You pull in your lips, blushing, looking away
“What you scared for? You scared of me?”
“No," you look at him I’m not scared of you, if i was i wouldn’t be here”
“So what is it?”
“I just don’t wanna get caught up in the wrong person or thing so i just find it easier to focus on school, working, and staying outta some shit”
“So, you saying I’m the wrong person?”
“No, i’m saying that..” you feel the panic rise
He chuckles “I’m fuckin’ wit’chu girl i get it”
You release a sigh of relief.
“Thanks Franklin” you smile as you look up at him after opening the door. “I hope you had a good time”
He smiles “I did I wanna do it again, without you trying to sabotage”
“We can discuss that”
He smacks his lips “you gonna make me beg again?”
“No i meant we can talk about when the next date would be” you giggle
“Ahh cool cool.” you two remain silent as you look at each other he reaches over and rubs his hands up and down your arms “You got goosebumps”
“Yea is a little chilly tonight and you should get going its late”
He smirks “let me find out you care”
You roll your eyes, you place your hands on his cheeks softly before pulling him down. You kiss each cheek, before his lips “goodnight Franklin” you whisper
He returns a kiss to your forehead “goodnight gorgeous”
You watch him get in the car before closing the door. You can’t help but smile to yourself. Even though your plan to sabotage didn’t work out, you are glad you went out tonight. You feel giddy inside thinking about the night's events, how he held your hand, how he would bite his lip while you talked, how he stared at you. It felt like you were under a microscope from time to time, it all felt genuine.
Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize
#franklin saint#franklin saint snowfall#snowfall fx#snowfall fanfic#franklin saint imagine#franklin saint fanfic#fan fiction#imagine#fan fic writing#fanfic#damson idris#snowfallfx#leon snowfall#snowfall#snow fall#black reader#franklin saint x reader#franklin saint x black reader
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REVIEW
A Shot of Gin by Phoebe Wagner
Well-written, fast-paced, intriguing paranormal urban fantasy that had me wondering what would happen next.
What I liked:
* Juniper “Gin”: twenty-two, works in a casino run by a vampire, half-human and half-other, magical, strong, has powers that keep her somewhat safe from most paranormals, seems to have a chip on her shoulder, has potential if there is a series
* Franklin: human, Colton’s right-hand-man, wise, knowledgeable, keeps the casino running smoothly
* Colton: vampire, black cowboy two hundred years, ago, manages the casino, has an unusual relationship with Gin
* The supporting characters: Winston, Leia, Kia, Bobbi, Nash – all played a part that was important
* That the vampires were the way I would imagine them to be…rather untrustworthy, bloodthirsty, and difficult – wondering about Clarisse
* That there was one main bad guy that was at least temporarily dealt with but there definitely feels like there is more to the story
* Being on the fence regarding how to feel about some of the characters but then…they are vampires so can one ever trust and have them as friends?
* The plot, pacing, setting and writing
* Learning that I don’t really like zombies in a story
What I didn’t like:
* Who and what I was meant not to like
* The manipulation of and lies of omission that Gin became aware of
* Maybe wanting more backstory and a bigger indication of what might come next
Did I enjoy this book? Yes
Would I read more in this series? I think so, maybe?
Thank you to NetGalley and BooksGoSocial for the ARC – This is my honest review.
4 Stars
BLURB
Juniper “Gin” Cain is pretty sure she’s mostly human.
Working security for the vampire-owned All Saints Casino, Gin’s got an edge on the others: vampires can’t drink her blood, making her perfect for the job. But when a radiated zombie staggers into the casino's club, she’s forced to expose the inhuman traits she’s kept hidden.
Now, the powerful Vegas vampires want a piece of her. Her fanged boss Colton—a cowboy turned during the Nevada silver rush—helps her escape into the high desert, but the Vegas vampires and radiated zombies pursue relentlessly, eventually closing in.
Cornered and at risk of kidnapping, she accidentally triggers a nuclear explosion in a frantic bid for survival. Reckoning with the fallout, Gin realizes that if she wants to save the casino and the people she calls family, she must give up the idea of being human and uncover the origins of her mysterious blood traits—all while trying to keep her home at the Saints Casino, and the rest of Reno, from getting nuked.
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17) “I know it hurts but you need to just keep your eyes on me and breathe, okay?” Franklin Saint.
��Angie! Angie, baby, look at me! Focus on me!”
Franklin’s pleas registered as muffled demands as Angie moved in and out of consciousness. Her flesh felt hot with blinding pain radiating from the center of her chest. Sweat poured from her temples in a desperate attempt to cool her body in a crisis.
This was it. This was what her father had warned her about so many times before.
“It…hurts,” she choked out, her mouth slowly filling with a familiar copper taste.
“I know it hurts, but you need to just keep your eyes on me and breathe, okay. Can you breathe for me? Please?”
A scream from someone a few feet over sounded like a distant rumble between the incessant ringing in her ears.
Labored breathing came next, taking all of her strength as she forced her nose to inhale and her mouth to release shaky breaths. Each one came with a low gurgle as her mouth filled with blood.
Angie fought for any image to keep her attention. An antique vase in the corner beside her favorite chair. That chair had seen way more than either of Franklin’s parents could imagine. Make out sessions, lazy days by the window reading to each other. Unspeakable arguments in the name of business.
Louie’s pretty shoes running back inside the house caught her attention soon after. Angie remembered her inherited auntie’s promise to share the pair when she gushed over them in the club one night. She wondered if she’d ever get to wear them now.
A photo of Alton and Cissy on the coffee table reminded her of a similar photo her parents had at her house. She wished she hadn’t given her father such a hard time. She wished she could’ve apologized sooner. Two months ago didn’t leave enough time for them forgive each other.
Then, Franklin.
His bright eyes always head a sense of darkness. A heavy secrecy that always frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t be upset with him if she wanted, though. Even if his introduction to her life had caused more grief than moments of happiness. The high points were intoxicating. The low points brought with them great sacrifice.
In a moment of clarity, her lips turned up in a smile. A weak squeeze to Franklin’s hand in hers made him furrow his brow.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered.
Franklin shook his head, forcing a single tear to cascade down his cheek. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. Breathe with me.”
Another deep breath produced a sputtering cough before she could continue.
“I love you, okay.”
“I love you, too. Stay here. Look at me!”
Franklin watched Angie’s eyes focus on him for a another breath before drifting closed for the final time. Her small hands went limp in his, leaving behind memories of all the times he’d laced their fingers together for a truce or as a silent way to communicate their love.
Those moments were gone now. Angie was gone. And with her, she took a piece of Franklin’s heart.
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Hamilton Inaccuracies/Corrections (because why not?)
Okay so, I saw a post on reddit that was like, “what’s some inaccuracies in Hamilton off the top of your head?” and I got a whole bunch...and then I had to double check to make sure if I was right...and I’m pretty long-winded...and now I have this 5,000ish word monstrosity. And apparently you can only post 1000 characters at a time on reddit. Laaaaame. So here’s some Hamilton facts I’ve gathered in my brain. Since it was kinda off the top of my head despite being so long, it’s kinda vague in some places, so if anyone wants to expand on anything (or correct me if I oopsed somewhere) please do! Though nicely please.
Also I am also awful at citing things, but I know I learned some of this from @john-laurens and @ciceroprofacto so thank you.
LET’S BEGIN!
Act 1
Rachel Faucette was not a prostitute, but she was a “whore” in the sense that she did what she fucking wanted with her body. During her first marriage she may or may not have been sleeping around, but she refused to stay with John Lavien, her husband, anymore. So he had her arrested. And he could do that. Because patriarchy and theocracy. And she was essentially put in solitary confinement. You can see why she tried to leave, right? She tried to get their marriage annulled or get a divorce. I forget what the issue was but she couldn’t and eventually she just moved to another island where she met James Hamilton.
The intro song makes it seem like Alexander was an only child. He actually had an older brother, James Jr., but he kinda fucked off after their mother died, working and taking care of himself. They also had an older half-brother Peter Lavien, but I don’t think they really knew him other than as the son of their mother’s abusive ex who took everything from them when she died. John Lavien was able to do that because when Rachel was with James Hamilton, she had not been able to get legally divorced from him so she wasn’t really married to James Hamilton, so James Jr. and Alexander were illegitimate ie bastards. He was an asshole. I don't think Peter had anything against the Hamiltons, but I think he grew up to be a Loyalist so. He actually made some trouble in South Carolina for Henry Laurens, John's dad! But I think I read somewhere he also left money for Alex and James Jr. In his will, which is sweet.
This is more visual since it’s not specified in the song, but in the show, Hamilton’s cousin mimes hanging himself. Peter Lytton’s cause of death if I recall was inconclusive, but he was in his bed and there was a lot of blood. So, yeah, he didn’t hang himself.
Alexander did not punch the bursar. However he did return to Princeton later during the war and blew a canon through the school and apparently decapitated a painting of King George lololol. He was under orders, but yknow. Probably felt pretty good after he was rejected for accelerated courses. He wasn’t the only bastard rejected, though! Ben Franklin’s bastard son was too. The guy in charge of admissions, Witherspoon, hated bastards as a concept and Princeton was a very religious school at the time I believe.
It may have been the plan by Aaron and Esther Burr for Aaron Jr to graduate Princeton, but like, he couldn’t really be sure of that? He was like 2 years old when they died, and his older sister Sally was 4 I believe, maybe 5.
Hercules Mulligan met Alex in 1772. His older brother Hugh knew Alex’s old employer in St. Croix and helped him get to mainland America. Alex and Hercules lived together for a long while, and Hercules is actually who got him interested in the revolution.
John Laurens was in England in 1776. He wouldn’t meet Hamilton and Lafayette until he accepted his post as Washington’s aide-de-camp upon his return in August of 1777.
Lafayette couldn’t have met Hamilton before August 1777 because that’s when he met Washington, and he was appointed as a volunteer to the Continental Army only a week prior, and before that he had been in France. But Lafayette later declared their relationship to be like that of brothers, Alexander his closest connection in the states besides Washington.
Lafayette admired and absolutely adored Laurens and they were besties, but neither of them knew Mulligan. They may have met in passing, or heard about him from Hamilton, but nothing more.
“Lafayette” was actually a nickname based on his title of “Marquis de la Fayette”. In his autobiography, he wrote: “It’s not my fault I was baptized like a Spaniard, with the name of every conceivable saint who might offer me more protection in battle.” I’m glad he thought it was funny at least. His name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de la Fayette.
Hercules Mulligan is not known to fuck horses.
The Revolution had already sorta started. Actually, Hercules and Alexander had been part of local militias before 1776.
This is more of a miscommunication since the actors are close in age, though the lyrics try to get it across. There’s a reason Mulligan says he’s got the others “in loco parentis”. In 1776 Hamilton and Lafayette would have been 19, Laurens would have been 22, and Mulligan would have been 36.
I think we all know “Laurens, I like you a lot” does not cover the scope of their relationship but that’s rather self explanatory so unless someone asks I’ll leave it at that. And for other clarifications. But at the very least I’ll share this: Anyone who saw them knew they were like attached at the hip (without knowing how attached *winkwonk*) and you could almost always contact one through the other. Laurens was notoriously bad at answering letters, to Hamilton too (and Alex did bitch about it because he is insecure and needs love), but it became quickly known he got back to Hamilton fastest so people would be like “Tell Laurens I said hi!” or “Hey, I need to get these to Laurens, you send them to him.” Which is hilarious. I just imagine Alexander going, “Why me?”
While all of them are Revolutionaries, Laurens is the only one you could solidly call an abolitionist, and Mulligan’s even shaky on the manumission part. He was supposedly part of the Manumission Society Hamilton helped start, but Mulligan also personally owned slaves and was never known to have freed them (One helped him with spy shit. His name was Cato!). In fairness, Hamilton and Lafayette wholeheartedly agreed with Laurens, and Hamilton was the biggest supporter of his battalion plan, and both of them did try to continue working towards equality after the war, but it was never the top priority for either of them and their lives kinda went to hell, so it fell to the wayside. Lafayette actually did some nifty stuff worth looking at, and Hamilton might have tried to keep one of John Lauren’s freed men from Henry Laurens! But as slavery stuck around for a while, it clearly wasn’t anything significant.
Angelica would meet and befriend Thomas Jefferson in Europe, but she would never manage to convince him to put women in a sequel because he’s a huge misogynist and told her in multiple letters that politics isn’t for women and I think he deserves a shoe up his southern backside. Side note, it always bothered me that Lin played up the misogyny in the musical. I mean, yeah, all of them would be misogynists compared to us, but for their time, Hamilton wasn’t so bad. If there was anyone to play up misogyny with, it was Jefferson, because he would tell Angelica for years and years that politics could never make women happy, and that the women in France were foolish for trying etc.. Hamilton would actually discuss politics with Angelica frequently and openly. And there’s a proto-feminist in the cast that was never recognized—Aaron Burr! He respected Theodosia Sr. as an equal and she was his most valuable political ally, and he made sure Theodosia Jr. got the same education any boy of her time would have. He actually respected women to a decent degree. Not to say he wasn't as much of a ho as Hamilton cuz yeah that's accurate (but they were both disaster bisexuals more on Burr's sexuality later)
Farmer Refuted was an essay Hamilton wrote arguing against Samuel Seabury's posts. They weren't shouting in the public square(but Lin got the sass right. I love his face when Hamilton and Seabury are fighting over the podium). Seabury was also really really old, not young and cute like Thayne, hence the line about "mange". Blech.
General Montgomery didn’t take a bullet in the neck, it was a grapeshot from a canon in his head (and his thighs), but close enough I guess. Side note: Burr actually served a short interim on Washington’s staff, but only for like 10 days because they hated each other lolol.
Alexander didn’t bring Laurens, Mulligan, or Lafayette to Washington. Lafayette joined up with the Continental Army in 1777 and quickly convinced them he wasn’t like the other French nobles; he was a glory-seeking kid with a boner for America (for some reason???). Laurens was requested by Washington to join his military family and he arrived also in August 1777 just after Lafayette. Like previously stated, Mulligan was doing shit even before Hamilton did.
Alexander would not have been in charge of spy shit (though may have been somewhat involved). Washington had people like Mulligan for that, who actually saved Washington a few times. But also, the "King’s men who might let some things slide" was the tactic Mulligan used. He was actually very charming, and his wife was very high in British society and he was a skilled tailor, so they were thought of well among the redcoats, and he got a lot of information through chatting with his customers. He also could usually smooth-talk his way out of trouble. Actually, Mulligan blended in so well, when the war was over, people in the city wanted him out cuz they thought he was a Loyalist. So George fucking Washington paid him a visit and commissioned I think a coat from him, and that cleared that up. He got a LOT of business after that.
Alexander would not be Washington’s right hand man, or at least, not his only one if Lin was using that to mean aide-de-camp. In that case, Laurens would also be Washington’s right hand man, along with many men not named in the musical.
John Laurens may have been reliable with the ladies (comes with the territory of being hot, rich, and a perfect gentleman), but he most certainly didn’t want to be. His father noted, rather proudly at the time, that as a young teenager he expressed no interest in girls. John was also married by 1780, and at least Alexander knew. (he told John he'd found out in the well-known April 1779 letter. You know... “Cold in my professions...find me a wife...the length of my nose...” That one.) Because John apparently didn't tell people he was married. Laurens. Sweetheart. Get. Your. Shit. Together.
John also would not be at this ball. February 1779 to March 1780 he is fighting down south, and this ball was early 1780.
The tomcat thing may be half true. Martha Washington did supposedly name a cat Hamilton, but it was an affectionate thing. The slang tomcat meaning ho wasn’t a thing at that time, so it couldn’t be named to tease Alex for his promiscuity. I believe this was one of the many things John Adams made up to slander Hamilton.
Hamilton and Eliza had met before 1780. They had met once two years prior at a dinner her father had hosted. Also, Hamilton had been courting her friend Kitty Livingston, and his friend and fellow aide Tench Tilghman had been attempting to court Eliza, and they’d actually done at least one sort-of double date (which is adorable). So this shouldn’t have been the first time they’d seen each other. Could still be when they fell in love, though, since they started courting after this. Which is cute to think about.
Speaking of Tench and Eliza! I don't remember when this took place but Tilghman journaled it, he went out on something of a hike with a few ladies and they got to a cliff. Of course, he had to help the girls climb up. Except Eliza who started climbing by herself like a natural to the bewilderment and likely horror of the other ladies. Elizabeth Schuyler was a bamf okay?
Of course everyone knows by now, Angelica was married before Eliza. During the Winter’s Ball, she’d already eloped with Jack Carter aka John Barker Church and run away to Boston.
Their courtship was not that fast. Not like, weeks. More like months. Fun fact, Eliza is the only of the five (yes FIVE) Schuyler sisters who didn’t elope and actually got her parents permission! But here’s a heartbreaking fun fact: while Alex was courting Eliza, Laurens was taken prisoner and then on probation. He wasn’t allowed to leave the state of Pennsylvania. He was mentally in a very dark place. Alex kind of procrastinated telling Laurens about Eliza, didn’t say he was courting anyone until they were already engaged.
I can't leave this alone if I'm sad you have to be too. Alex was hella depressed during this time too. Of course he was a soldier so he couldn't see Eliza as much as he'd have liked. On top of that, he kept pushing for an exchange for John and kept getting rejected because they couldn't show preference for him. And then Laurens was sending him very few letters, of course, and the ones he did send were very depressed, even suicidal sounding. He had to work while dealing with that. He had to keep begging Eliza to write to him to be reassured that she still liked him.
No one could show up for Hamilton for the wedding. Some sources say fellow aide James McHenry showed up, but he’s the only one. Alexander even invited his deadbeat dad, offered to pay all his travel expenses and everything, guess how that turned out. So Eliza’s side of the hall was packed and his was empty. God, can you imagine how sad that is?
Another heartbreaking fun fact! John Laurens was out of probation and could have made it to the wedding, was invited (Hamilton, I kid you not, jokingly invited him to a threesome with his new wife in a letter: “I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania. I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation.” (emphasis is original to Hamilton. As is the misspelling of Pennsylvania. Yes, seriously.)) and John did not go. Instead he went back to work trying to talk his way out of getting sent as an envoy to France and suggesting Alexander to take his place. You know. His boyfriend who just got married. Sure, he was right that Hamilton was better equipped for the job, but yknow. Another fun fact, one of the guys who voted for John to be the one to go to France was John’s ex-boyfriend Francis Kinloch. Who was a turncoat, and had been a royalist when he and Laurens split. How’s that for some twisty bullshit.
Sorry, this one isn’t about the musical, it’s a tangent, I just got excited about that quote. Both that style of innuendo and the misspelling of Pennsylvania are consistent in Hamilton’s writing. Listening to john-lauren’s podcast about the April 1779 letter can really help you understand how Hammy uses innuendo but also I just love listening to it it’s insightful and hilarious and I love John Laurens but y u do this and my heart hurts for Hamilton but he is also a ho but aNYWAY. As for Pensylvania...well, he kinda made that mistake on an important document. ...It’s The Constitution. He misspelled Pennsylvania on The Constitution. No big deal. Not like something that could haunt his legacy forever. Oh my god I’m so sorry.
Philip Schuyler did have sons. Five in fact. Two of them died pretty young though I think, considering there are three kids in a row named John Bradstreet Schuyler. The other two were named Philip Jeremiah and Rensselaer.
Laurens, Lafayette, and Mulligan were all married before Hamilton. Hercules Mulligan married Elizabeth Sanders in 1773. Lafayette married his beloved Adrienne in 1774. John Laurens was regretfully obliged to marry Martha Manning in 1776.
Sigh. Again with the misogyny. Anyway, I wanted to comment on the marriage as a loss of freedom. From what I can tell, Elizabeth helped Hercules with his spy work at home. John was literally fighting a war across the ocean from his wife, and probably having an illegal affair with Alexander (though to be fair to him, he was kind of running away from Martha because he didn't marry her for love, gosh, there are no winners here). Lafayette absolutely adored his wife but still was also fighting a war an ocean away, and had multiple affairs, at least one with his wife’s blessing. So yeah, losing your freedom with marriage? Bullshit.
Despite where it is in the musical and Eliza singing the beginning, Stay Alive is roughly about Valley Forge, which would be December of 1777 through June of 78. So before the ball and wedding. (Fun fact! A lot of people theorize Valley Forge as when Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship may have escalated into romantic and/or sexual territory. They may have had more privacy, as small temporary buildings were being made to better withstand the cold, and Hamilton was sick a lot during that time and did need tending a lot. West Indian boi did not like Northern winter.) But yeah, Congress being stupid and the army resorting to eating their horses sometimes and not being able to buy food and equipment? All true. It was a real bad winter.
Mulligan wouldn’t have to go back to New York, he never would have left. He remained there as a tailor and a spy throughout the war. He wouldn’t have been traveling with Washington.
Hamilton and Laurens didn't write essays so much as start working out John's battalion plan and writing letters trying to push for it.
This duel happened in 1778, so like. This timeline is so fucky.
Stay Alive makes it seem like Hamilton was the one who wanted to duel Lee, but it was 100% Laurens from the start. The off-Broadway version demonstrates it a bit better. Hamilton was Lauren's second to save his ass. Hamilton had a rough relationship with Washington, but Laurens admired him greatly and would have willingly defended his commander’s honor. John was a Good Boy who always bowed his head to his asshole father, even at first for his battalion plan, but John wouldn’t let even his father talk shit about Washington. Fun fact about this duel, Alex and John were late to the duel because they “got lost in the woods”. Oooookay. Suuuuuuure. And Baron von Steuben was straight. (Fact: Steuben was very gay and pretty much pushed out of Europe for it. And he actually also had challenged Lee! They talked things out before this.)
Aaron Burr was not Charles Lee’s second. His second was a Major Evan Edwards. Lin wanted a parallel with the final duel. To be fair, that was a really cool way to do it and I like it better that way.
Alexander Hamilton could NOT agree that duels are dumb and immature. He was in 10 duel challenges as a participant in his lifetime, 9 of which he was the challenger. One time he challenged two people at once. One time he challenged an entire politcal party apparently. No, I am not kidding. He had a bad day. And I think you know the one time he wasn’t the challenger.
Lee did not yield on the first shot, nor was Laurens satisfied. Lee was pretty much like, “It’s just a flesh wound!” and wanted to go another round and Laurens agreed, but Hamilton and Edwards managed to talk them down. Yes he was shot in the side. But that wasn’t all because Laurens absolutely roasted Lee at his court martial.
Lee: Were you ever in an action before?
Laurens: I have been in several actions; I did not call that an action, as there was no action previous to the retreat.
I love this man. So much. The sass of this man.
We don’t know if Washington was angry about the duel with Lee. We do know that Laurens, and probably Hamilton, had Christmas dinner with him two days later. When Hamilton left, it was because Washington had snapped over a misunderstanding (caused by Lafayette actually, and he really tried to make it better because Lafayette is a sweetheart), and then continued to deny Hamilton the command he requested, and he resigned. It was entirely unrelated to the duel and Laurens. However, the daddy issues are real.
I don’t know if Lafayette went to France for more funds and came back with more guns, but Laurens certainly did! Ben Franklin told him to chill, but he actually got super impatient and ended up supposedly disrespecting and maybe kinda threatening the court, demanding what he needed, and walking out. They were were kind of shocked and impressed into giving more than had been requested. Any existing deities bless John Laurens. I love him.
Lafayette actually nominated his own aide to lead the charge and Hamilton appealed for himself and Washington finally gave in to Hamilton.
Laurens was not in South Carolina. When he finally got back from France, he was sent to Yorktown. He actually was commanding the group Alexander led. (Power couple lol) He also helped with negotiations after the battle. Also, supposedly making the British play ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ on their way out was Laurens’ idea because boy is made of sass and spite.
Henry Laurens would not have sent a letter to Hamilton about John’s death. Even if he would have, he couldn’t. At that time, he’d been locked up in the Tower of London as a prisoner. We have no idea when or how Alexander found out, or who might have told him. We know he wrote to Nathanael Greene on October 25 and Lafayette on November 3 (literally 2 months after Laurens' death), and the mentions of Laurens were very short. It’s thought that he really couldn’t talk about Laurens. People have compared it to the stories of how Benjamin Tallmadge apparently couldn’t hear Nathan Hale’s name without crying.
After Yorktown Alexander resigned and John went down south to flush British troops out of the southern states. His group was ambushed at Combahee River and he decided to charge instead of wait for backup and he died. Many people think it was a combination of his usual recklessness, suicidality, and glory-seeking mixed with a desperation with the war coming to an end. It was such a small skirmish. He deserved better. He left his daughter, Frances, whom he had never met, orphaned, as her mother had died months earlier from sickness. She was adopted by John’s oldest younger sister, also coincidentally Martha Laurens (though married was Martha Laurens Ramsay).
The Levi Weeks case was years later than that, in 1800, though it was alongside Burr. Hamilton actually lost his first trial as a defense lawyer and was not with Burr.
The whole conversation where Hamilton proposes Burr help him write the Federalist Papers is fake. Lin made that up entirely.
John Church’s wealth kinda...varies. He was a gambler. At first, he was actually in quite a bit of debt. He did make it big eventually and he and Angelica moved to Europe. He really didn’t seem to be a lot of fun to most people, but Angelica eloped with him. She chose him against her father’s wishes. I don’t get why Lin kept writing lines saying she didn’t love him, at least at first. He also does this in the cut song Congratulations where she says “I languished in a loveless marriage” bish you eloped wat She also lived as a socialite and was adored by anyone who met her apparently, so like???? da fuq Lin. Didja really do Laurens dirty for these lies or at the very least uncertanties? Could you not prop up that romance without making her say she hates her husband?
Act 2
More of a personality miscommunication. Irl Thomas Jefferson was shy, quiet, and hypersensitive, nothing like how Daveed plays him. If you knew a guy like the real Jefferson in real life you might be endeared to him out of pity or because he seems sweet, but in the short time of a musical that would immediately be read as cold and unlikable. So the best way to portray “this guy is a likable asshole” is to make him loud and made of sass which is what Daveed does magnificently. So, not at all accurate to real Jefferson, but gets the concept of him across.
Thomas was not off getting high with the French. Probably. He was making negotiations for the Revolution. And abusing Sally Hemings (his, at the time, 14 year old slave, who was also his sister-in-law, and 30 years his junior, and was brought along to entertain his daughter). And actually probably chatting up with Angelica!
By the time Philip was 9, he had two sisters, Angelica (7) and his foster/adopted sister Frances Antill (6), but he also had two brothers already, Alexander Jr. (5) and James Alexander (3), with maybe another one on the way since William Stephen would be born next year.
The whole comma thing is backwards. It was Angelica who made the initial mistake. Hamilton pointedly and flirtatiously teased her about it before closing it with “Adieu ma chere, soeur” French for “Goodbye my dear, sister”. So it’s more playful and less lovey dovey in context, so the tone is all wrong. It’s not romantic, it’s teasing and snarky.
Say No To This feels like it’s over quick. The affair lasted a year, not just the summer Eliza was away.
Clermont Street wasn’t renamed until many years later.
I don’t know that Alex has always considered Burr a friend. Irl they weren’t as close, and Hamilton was keenly aware of how slimy Burr could be.
Lafayette was NOT fine. He was imprisoned a lot during the French Revolution, the poor man, and many members of his wife’s family were killed. HOWEVER! Hamilton was not just sitting by. Angelica and her husband did make an attempt to rescue Lafayette, and the Hamiltons fostered Lafayette’s son Georges Washington Lafayette (yes that was his actual name). So Hamilton also did not forget Lafayette.
Not all his defendants got acquitted, obviously. Stop being cocky, Ham.
People comment on how Jefferson whines about Hamilton’s fashion sense while literally dressed in violet velvet. The original plan was to have him in browns, but Daveed is just such a friggin star that they just had to give him something brighter and decided to go with a Prince-inspired look. Originally the browns were going to be representative of his supposed representation of farmers. Though note here: Jefferson’s agricultural representation is much the same as modern Republicans’ rural representation. More for show.
Actually, let's get political for a sec. I've done some research in my hyperfixation and in searches for Hamilton shiz I've ended up stumbling into far-right nonsense and I know how to recognize the degrees of nonsense from years of actually paying attention to it now because this is what I do apparently. Which is weird, right? Lin kinda portrays him like a lefty. Well, here's the thing. Any proud historically educated Republican will tell you that their roots are in the Federalist Party. Which is technically true. What they will neglect to mention is the flip between parties that happened when the Republicans decided to use southerners racism to their advantage in elections. Being subtly racist can get the racists and the non-racists on your side! Yeah, it's gross. Federalists are more like Democrats. The corporatists. They clearly care more about companies and Wall Street, but they put actual action into social progress on rare occasion. Democratic-Republicans are like Republicans, conservatives who don't want social change and rail against it and pretend they aren't for corporate interests while being just as bad as the other guys. But Republicans have a tendency to rewrite history to paint themselves as the good guys, or reclaim things that aren't theirs as their own. Just look at the Civil War! Or...literally just...America I guess. Yikes. But yeah, here's your warning. Don't just go looking at and trusting things labelled Federalist. It likely won't be friendly.
John Adams didn’t fire Hamilton, Hamilton left. Eventually. And this is not the only time this kind of verbal confrontation happens, and not the one that destroys the Federalist Party. That actually happens after the Reynolds Pamphlet. But John Adams hates Alexander Hamilton with the burning passion of a thousand suns and really kinda earns this.
I’m not sure if he specifically called Alex a Creole bastard but I wouldn’t be surprised, there were other similar racist and bastard-related insults. You know the tomcat thing mentioned above. He started the rumor of the affair with Angelica. He accused him of being a rake (male version of whore at the time). He also may have behind closed doors accused him of being a sodomite. His (probably gay) son Charles helped with that one, bringing back rumors from a dinner he had with Hamilton (who he was working for) and John Church because Church joked about Alex being fond of a guy. Adams probably thought working for Hamilton was what made his son gay and alcoholic (Charles was an alcoholic and may have died in part because of that; Hamilton was not an alcoholic, but he supposedly could not hold his drink. He was smol).
Jefferson, Madison, and Burr didn’t accuse Hamilton of speculation. It was James Monroe, Abraham Venable, and Frederick Muhlenberg. Lin wanted to keep consistent representation of the Democratic-Republican party. But anyway, the whole thing went to hell because Monroe sent the letters to Jefferson (or I’ve also heard Monroe gave them to Madison who sent them to Jefferson) who, the spiteful gangly fucker, started spreading rumors because fuck Hamilton, amirite? Hamilton challenged Monroe to a duel over that. And who stopped this duel? Aaron Burr. He gets to be the good guy now and then.
It wasn’t just total strangers that got Alex off the island. He was sponsored by his cousin Ann Lytton and his teacher Reverend Hugh Knox. Also, he was kind of expected to get an education and come back and help out the island...guess what he never did. Oops.
This one I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure. I think Eliza was upstate with her family when the Reynolds Pamphlet was released, away from Alex. I also know she had recently given birth to their son, William Stephen. A lot of people think Alexander had been keeping that in mind. Eliza had had a miscarriage once before, when she was under a lot of stress and alone and with the kids and he had to be away (Whiskey Rebellion), so some people think he made sure she was surrounded by her family and waited until the child was born to drop this on her, and gave her distance from him if she needed it. At least he knew he fucked up, and he really did love her.
Those weren’t Alexander’s guns. They belonged to John Church.
It was quite some time between Philip’s challenge and the actual duel.
Another age miscommunication; Eacker was 27ish and Philip was 19 when the duel happened. There was a whole 8 years between them!
Eacker didn’t shoot early. Actually, both of them stood staring at each other for a really long time doing nothing. But Philip went to make a move and Eacker shot him.
Alex and Eliza had made up from the Reynolds Pamphlet bullshit before Philip died. When he passed, Eliza was already pregnant with the son they would also name Philip in honor of his older brother.
Hamilton wasn’t really the deciding factor in the election of 1800. But he did say that about Burr and it did help swing the vote somewhat. But also, this was before Philip died. Philip died in 1801.
If a vote is that close, you can’t win in a landslide??? That’s not how words work???? Mister Miranda????? You are a writer??????? Sir???????
Burr actually held a term as Jefferson’s Vice President.
The Burr vs Hamilton Duel was in 1804 and was actually about another election and other things Hamilton was saying about him. Burr was running to be governor of New York and lost but heard about Alexander telling people the things he listed Alexander saying in Your Obedient Servant.
Thayne should not have played Alexander’s doctor. Sydney should have played Alexander’s doctor. Do you know why? Philip and Alexander had the same doctor when they died. Alexander took that doctor with him to the duel. His name was David Hosack.
While there’s evidence to suggest Burr experienced immediate regret (he stepped forward as if wanting to see if Hamilton was okay and supposedly asked after him and wished him well before Alexander passed) in the years that followed, until he was on his death bed, he expressed nothing but neutrality or even pride for having shot Hamilton. The ‘the world was wide enough’ comment could plausibly be entirely made up, and even if it were true, it was supposedly said toward the end of Burr’s life. Burr's life was quite a ride after Alex. He tried to make like his own empire out of Texas, and then of course was tried for treason, but he got out of that, but then everyone hated him for that ON TOP OF already hating him for killing Hamilton, so he had some crazy journey around Europe for a while. He kept a journal, writing entries like letters to Theo. The most notable things I think he writes he'd "been amused for an hour with a very handsome young Dane. Don't smile. It is a male!" which implies maybe Theodosia knew her dad was bi and was at least amused by it? And he spent a while living with Jeremy Bentham, who is generally accepted to have been gay (if you want more Burr gayness look into Jonathan Bellamy and Robert Troup. Troup knew Hamilton too!). Unrelated to his sexuality but I find it important, Burr spent, in modern cash, $40 on a coconut, in his own words, "like an ass." He returned to America eventually. I dont remember if it was before or after his foreign adventures, but his beloved grandson (also named Aaron Burr) died, and then not long after, Theodosia was lost at sea on her way to visit her dad. No one knows what happened to her. It's so sad. Anyway he married a wealthy widow named Eliza, spent all her money on charity, and died the day their divorce was finalized. And Eliza Jumel's divorce lawyer was Alexander Hamilton Jr..
Poor Eliza couldn’t go through all of her husband’s papers. Her son, John Church Hamilton, finished the work for her when she no longer could and put together the biography that inspired Chernow’s that inspired Lin’s musical. (He named a son Alexander and a daughter Elizabeth. He even named one of his sons Laurens! Aw.) And we have come full circle.
The End :33
There’s probably more but that’s what I’ve got. Thanks for reading!
#Hamilton#Alexander Hamilton#Lin-Manuel Miranda#maybe I'll add more tags later#or maybe not#Aaron Burr#John Laurens#Marquis de Lafayette#Hercules Mulligan#Angelica Schuyler Church#Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton#Margarita Schuyler Van Rensselaer#George Washington#Thomas Jefferson#James Madison#Maria Reynolds#Philip Hamilton#Rachel Faucette#James Hamilton#Peter Lytton#Philip Schuyler#Samuel Seabury#King George III#Charles Lee#Sally Hemings#George Eacker
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JUNE PROMPTS ❄️
AN: Each word prompt will be a short story (some very short). They will feature multiple fandoms, face claims, characters, celebrities, etc. Word prompts in blue contain sexually explicit content (18+), as well as other adult themes. Warnings will also be put at the beginning of each post, if needed.
The main character’s name is Lena [LEE•NUH] (you can also imagine yourself as the main character).
Post will be updated until completed.*
fairytale • Usher
garden hose • DeVante Swing
fruit stand • Merlin Santana
radio • Static Major
block party • Static Major
tattoo • Static Major
ice cream • Static Major
postcard • Static Major
festival • Static Major
skating • Victoria Monét
barefoot • Omar Epps
night walks • Franklin Saint
pride • Aaliyah
fries • C-Murder
stream • Bianca Lawson
flower crown • Aaliyah
outdoors • Michael Thomas
cocktail umbrellas • Amerie
playing cards • Master P
sailboat • Static Major
karaoke • DeVante Swing
dandelions • Bianca Lawson
buttons • Selena
pearls • Mr. Dalvin
midsummer • Michael Thomas
universe • Ginuwine
neon sign • Static Major
dragonfly • DeVante Swing
birch tree • C-Murder
peaches • Static Major
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