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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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06. The Fall Festival

3550 Words, No trigger warnings that I can think of.

Grace got ready for the dance with her mother. She wanted her to look like “the belle of the ball” and though Grace thought the gown was a bit much, her mother had always been extra when it came to extravagance, and she learned her lesson about trying to step in with her own opinions on how she should look. Mrs. Monroe had Grace looking like a Disney princess. She hired a professional makeup artist (EVEN THOUGH they both had years of experience Grace from dance recitals, her mother being a beauty queen and socialite).

After her hair debacle on the train a couple of years prior, a world famous stylist for natural Afrocentric hair had been Grace's beautician. She helped her to grow her hair back, twisted it into locs and was always keeping her stylish with the hottest natural looks.

Mrs. Monroe hovered and fussed over her like she couldn’t get ready by herself, the moment all of the professionals had gone to wait for her final presentation downstairs. Grace wasn't used to that. Her mother never had time for her and even when she was expected to look her best, Mom usually didn't get involved. Grace longed for this and relished in it. She couldn't complain, even though it was stifling.

Whenever Simon came up the fire escape, Grace panicked. Her parents DID NOT know about him doing so, and she was ready to have a complete shutdown seeing him appear in the window while her mom was putting butterfly embellishments in her up-do. Simon froze, and thought about jumping off of the stairway when he saw Mrs. Monroe in there, but once the woman looked at him and smiled, he relaxed and stepped inside. “Hi, Mrs. Monroe. I’m Simon, Grace’s frie-”

“Grace has a school dance tonight, Simon,” she said, not interested in introducing herself. “I’m sure after all of this; she’ll explain to me why her fire escape is open and why a boy is using it for anything but a fire.”

“Simon is my escort, Mom,” Grace said in a voice so small that Simon didn’t even recognize it and could barely hear her. She had NEVER been this quiet in all of the years that he had known her. It was alarming, actually, but within a moment, he realized why.

Her mother stuck another butterfly into her hair, with a hard jab and Grace winced when the pin stuck her in the scalp. “I see,” the woman said.

The pageant smile that she had initially given Simon in her confusion was gone and now, a stone like grimace was there, pointed right at Grace with no warmth or emotion. “Stand.” She commanded, and Grace did so, with military-like precision. The woman led her next to Simon and stood her at his side, took a step back to assess them, then flared her nostrils and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“But, Mom…” Grace said in that same tiny voice, this time pleading. A single look from the woman silenced her.

“Grace, I did not pay thousands of dollars to make you perfect tonight for you to ruin the entire aesthetic with this shaggy boy in a shabby suit that looks like it costs less than your earrings. I’m sure he’s nice, but do we want nice things for you, Grace?”

“No.”

“What do we want for you, Grace?”

“The best,” she said.

“Alright. Now, I’ll give you a moment to say goodnight and LOCK your fire escape, then hurry down for the pre-dance photo shoot.” Grace’s eyes welled with tears as she looked down at her hands, clasping her dress anxiously. Her mother lifted her chin with her fingertips and said in a sweet voice, but through clenched teeth, “Don’t you dare cry and ruin this makeup job, and let. Go. of. That. Dress!” When she said dress, she jerked away one of Grace’s hands with her free hand and Grace’s other hand quickly followed.

Then, Grace whimpered in her tiniest voice yet, “He’s my best friend.”

Her mother looked at her with a mixture of pity and exasperation and shook her head, “We can discuss that another time.”

Grace took a deep breath and almost magically forced away the tears trying to form in her eyes. Simon was horrified by how frightened the woman made her. What would she do to her if she told her to piss off? He wasn’t going to find out tonight, because Grace stepped in line and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Simon.” She was using that voice that she used with people whenever she was just telling them what they wanted to hear. That was a voice she used with non-essentials, not with him... “I still want to do the whole pumpkin patch thing tomorrow, if you don’t hate me for wasting your time tonight? Maybe my parents will give you money for the train ride home.”

“I’m not going home! My suit may be shabby, but it was the best that I could do and I tried really hard to look nice for you tonight!” His voice was louder than he meant it to be and he knew that her mother could probably hear him, but he had just witnessed the worst thing to happen to him in months (which was already saying a lot) and he just didn’t understand this version of Grace that he had seen tonight.

She smiled, sadly and touched his cheek, “You DO look nice. I love it. I love that you remembered the colors for your accents, and it's very obvious to someone like me, who knows your type of fashion, that you did put a lot of work into this look. But, what I'm telling you is that there is no way that my mother is going to let you get into the car with me and head to the dance, now. I didn’t expect her to be here! But, apparently my first school dance was an event she couldn’t miss, despite missing several other things that I thought should have been pretty dang important...” She dropped her hand and sighed, “I really wanted to go with you tonight, but it can’t happen now. She made that clear to me. I’m sorry, Simon.”

She looked like she might cry again, but she quickly sucked it up and put on a smile. “We can go downstairs together. You don’t have to take the fire escape…”

“What do they do to you? What do they do to you to make you like this? What could they possibly do for you to treat me this way?” He asked, practically pleading.

“They work hard to make sure that I have the best. It’s my responsibility to be my best for them, and they… they… know what’s best.”

“You don’t believe that, Grace! They’re one of the main reasons that we don’t trust adults!”

“Even if I don’t trust them… I have to do what they say! What else can I do? They’re not gonna just leave me alone and let me live my life. Maybe one day, Simon. Just not tonight… Not now...” Simon had tears in his eyes, but Grace was definitely disassociating.

She had to be strong, because she had to present herself to her parents, the pros who put together her look, and the photographer. She had to be perfect whenever she made her entrance. “Goodnight, Simon.” She gave him a playful tap on the cheek, strummed his face with her thumb and left him in the room alone. Simon covered his nose and mouth with both hands and started to cry.

The time it took Grace to smile through the photo shoot pretending that she hadn't just sliced her heart into pieces and fed them to her mother, to get the dress safely into the car, and the drive to the dance… Simon had already made it there. The school was closer to Grace's house than his house was, so he just walked. Anger and resentment fueled his pace.

When he arrived, he went to the bathroom to freshen up and get himself together. He slid into the stall with his jacket off, rolled up his sleeve and looked at his arm for a while. He drifted into a daydream.

They were 10, she was in her ballet garb and he was in his vest, shorts, socks and sandals… she was gonna "teach him a few moves," though he couldn't remember why. All he ever remembered about that day was that he couldn’t focus on a single thing that she said to him because she was standing close enough for him to be more concerned about focusing on her features and whenever she was standing behind him, trying to help him get into position, her hands were on his person and she smelled like fruit and flowers. She usually smelled of nice, expensive products and fruit scented lip gloss, but there was something else that he wasn’t as familiar with, though it was very nice. He found out later it was mango butter. She lathered herself in the stuff to moisturize. She didn’t teach him ANYTHING that day but that he wasn’t really into doing ballet, and that she was the prettiest girl that he knew. Always would be. Tonight, they were supposed to dance together again. This time, in front of people. This time… Maybe it wouldn't just be a huge failure, he thought. But, it failed before they ever even made it there. You're never going to be good enough for her.

Simon pulled down his sleeve, put his jacket back on, "You're just as good as anybody else! You're better than most of the people you've ever known!" He hissed, straightening himself out in the mirror.

Then, he went out to get some punch. There was a table of fountains with various fondues and drinks. He remembered that this was his first dance at the academy and that his former jr high bashes would pale in comparison. Everything was SO formal. It reminded him of photos of his parents at a military ball whenever they were first dating… but then add like a million dollars of decorations and stuff.

Whenever he thought about money, his mind went back to Mrs. Monroe's cold features and empty smile. The way she tore him down like he was a null and Grace just LET her.

If his parents ever so much as cut her an ugly look, he'd bludgeon them. She couldn't even tell her mother "no," for him? She'd been so beautiful in that yellow dress, with her goddess locs pulled up and twisted into a cascading bang, a halo crown and sparkling butterflies with jade jewelry and light green and gold accents in her dress, makeup, and hair. Simon didn't even know wtf chartreuse was until he had to try to find "accents" for his suit. He found a tie, a pocket square and socks! He shined his shoes, like he'd seen his father do. He watched videos to learn to tie the tie and fold the square. He'd exfoliated his skin and gelled his stray hairs to try to keep his ponytail neat!

He was sulking into another cup of punch when somebody said, "Is that Grace Monroe?" He turned and the kids made way for her. Her driver helped fix her dress for her entry. She had that fake ass smile plastered on her face, but the moment she saw Simon, it faded. Then, her real smile quickly appeared and she shuffled over to him. "You still came!" She cheered. Everyone else immediately didn't matter to her, but Simon wasn't smoothed over. He was still very much hurt.

"Your mom can control you, not me," he grunted. She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at it before flicking it off with a harsh brush of his hand. "We're not here together, remember?"

"Obviously, I remember. But, we're still friends… Right?" She stared at the top of his head as he stared into the cup of punch. It was good. Tasted like pineapples and cream with some spritz to it… but it didn't taste good enough to help him avoid this questioning. It'd have to do for now, because there was no way he dared look up to see how she might be looking at him. The feel of her eyes upon him was heavy enough. "What can I do?" She asked in a small voice.

He glanced at her, looking down at her hands and clutching her dress. He sighed and shifted his eyesight to look at the others in the room with them, having fun without a care in the world. Meanwhile, here they were… both obviously miserable. "Nothing," he finally answered, though he didn't look at her again. "You're clearly a powerless kid, just like me. We thought we were so tough because we could win some fights with nulls and really, we're the worthless ones. Your mom proved that tonight. She could care less about specks like us. These kids treat me like I'm something they stepped in, and I can't do anything about it, because my parents can't toss money at administration if I mess up. But, if I get kicked out, my chances of being successful will decrease three quarters. I'll never be rich and powerful, no matter the fact that I deserve it. I deserve it more than anybody else in this room of fakes and flunkies! I'm smart. I'm strong. I'm fearless. I'm tactical. I deserve respect. I deserve the best, too, Grace."

"You do."

"Then why didn't you have my back!?" Now, he looked at her. He deserved an answer.

"Because… I'm… not... those things. I'm not that smart. I just know how to talk to people. I'm… not that strong. I'm just agile and can dodge a lot of danger. And, I think you saw for yourself that I'm not fearless. I'm terrified of my parents seeing any of that. Everything that I'm not. They'll lose the little bit of love that they have got for me and I can't stand to risk it. I guess I just thought that you wouldn't. That... you could take one night of my cowardice and still love me. I was wrong to expect that. You deserve better, but I'm not someone who can give you that. You were always gonna eventually do great things. I was always gonna skate by on my family name." She wiped her eye and looked at her glove to see a little makeup. "I'll leave you alone now…" She was going to go cry over this. Very uglyish and loudish… but Simon caught her wrist.

They looked at each other. Her eyes were asking him why he stopped her when she was giving him his way out, but he knew as well as she should have.. she was absolutely right. He'd love her through anything. He just wasn't going to say that. "We're supposed to open the waltz," he said. His gray eyes were soft on her and she sighed with relief and hurled herself into him for a hug. He held her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Your mom's a monster. And she's got a ton of money. I've never seen you be afraid of anybody else and I shouldn't have attacked you about it." She was now fully crying on his shoulder. "Apex never dies."

She smiled and nodded, "We're on this wild train for life." She stood up straight and they stared at each other. Did… did she see Simon blushing? She touched his chin much like Simon had seen her mother touch hers, which momentarily gave him a little nervousness, but she said, "You know, Socks & Sandals… this outfit really makes your eyes POP! Have… have they always been green?"

"My eyes are gray," he said, blushing even more, but also looking offended.

"Thank goodness! That's what I thought they were before now…" she kept staring though. "They're prettier than I remember. Did you do something?"

"Like eye reconstruction or shapeshifting?" He asked sarcastically. She laughed and he smirked. Then, they made their way to the dance floor. Grace was in his arms most of the night. They took photos together, with "friends," and at the booth, and before dismissal, they ducked out to ditch her driver and jump on the train to head into the city.

Grace peeked into her clutch for her mask and saw several valuables that she knew weren't hers. "Simon… what is all this?" She pulled out watches and jewelry to get to her mask.

"That's stuff I found on assholes at the dance."

She looked at him a moment, like she was judging him; then they both laughed. "Please tell me that at least ONE of these items came from Shana!" He smirked and shuffled through his haul to show her a set of keys with a plushie keychain. "Are these her car keys???"

"Looks like those are all her keys. But the keychain is fruit with a face! We love fruit with a face!" Whenever they got off of the train, Simon removed the keychain and threw the keys to the wheels. He didn't have an issue with Shana, but she had made Grace her rival since the recital years ago, so that meant she was Simon's enemy… and tonight, she'd be stuck at the dance.

"It just occurred to me that a mask won't do much when the rest of me looks like this," Grace said, laughing.

"It JUST occurred to you that a face mask wouldn't hide your very conspicuous ballroom gown?"

"Shut up!" She laughed and held his hand as they ran out of the train station. Both of them stuck their tongues out and flipped the surveillance camera the bird as they did.

She didn’t want to go home. They had been going around the city for hours and she was certain that unlike when she was 10, her parents could care less if she was home, so long as she didn’t embarrass them while she was out there.

So, she and Simon waltzed at the creek in the moonlight, unintentionally inventing inside jokes, lounged around the closed mall, stole some skateboards from someone’s yard and went skateboarding at the boardwalk. Grace was much better at it than Simon, despite the fact that she had never tried before and was wearing a lengthy gown. Simon vowed that he was going to get better than her.

They made their way back to her house and Simon tampered with the lock on the fire escape to let her in. Whenever he successfully broke in she gasped and he said, “You owe me 20 dollars.”

“I did bet you 20 dollars that you couldn’t possibly break into my home…” she said.

“Yep.” He held out his hand and she put his stolen valuables in it. “This was already mine, whenever I took it.”

“Yeah, but I’m taking the 20 I owe you out of it, for having held onto your loot.”

He groaned and stuffed his pockets. “If we’d been searched or something, they would presume that stuff was somehow all yours. Me? Obvious criminal.”

“You pickpocketed like a dozen people at a school dance and just broke into my window. You are a criminal.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that they have a right to suspect me as one!” She laughed and opened the window to climb inside.

Whenever she was on the other side, she turned and smiled at Simon. “Thanks for getting me home safely, Gray Eyes.”

He blushed and she definitely could see it, even in the moonlight. “Of course. Apex sticks together.” He reached out to give her a fist bump, but she rested her hand on his fist, shut her eyes, leaned forward, puckering her lips… like she was going to… going to kiss him. It happened really quickly, so he couldn’t prepare himself properly. It landed on the corner of his mouth and he didn’t know if she meant for it to be there, on his cheek, or directly on his lips. But, he turned slightly for their lips to touch and she gave those a second kiss, then a third. Small pecks, but two on the lips and the first extremely close to them was still... a lot.

They looked at each other a moment, realized that they were holding hands now and pulled them back. “Well, that was a perfectly normal friendship kiss,” Simon said.

“Very platonic affection,” she added, fighting a smile. “We still on for the pumpkin patch tomorrow?”

He nodded and smiled as he went down the stairs and she locked up after him, then watched him skateboard away on the board he had. Gray Eyes… That had to be his favorite nickname that she’d ever randomly given him.

Grace looked down at her frazzled dress, filthy at the seam and torn and dirty in other places. She looked in the mirror, traced her fingertips across her lips that she had just so BOLDY used to kiss Simon and she laughed, climbing into bed to go to sleep without a shower or anything. He had kissed her back. She giggled about it. She giggled herself to sleep...

#Infinity Train #infinity train fanfiction #Nesha Fanfiction #AU Infinity Train #fics #If They Didn't Get on the Train #The Fall Festival

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artisticestheticreads · 5 years

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Summertime Magic (III)

A/N: Okay, so I was in the middle of writing part two when I had the idea for this one. Yes, I write weird as hell but hey. In this chapter, we will see N’Jadaka and Y/N’s friendship actually grow a lot more.

WARNING: Contains alcohol use, drug use and so much more (GUARDS YA LOINS).

*Gif down below was made by me. So please don’t take credit. Thanks, loves*

SONG RECOMMENDATION: FORTUNATE by Maxwell

It was the day of the party when Y/N was in her closet looking at what to wear. She had plenty of clothes but none felt “90′s” enough so she FaceTimed her best friend; her momma. “Hey, momma’s baby. How ya doing”, she asked with a huge smile on her face. Y/N loved her momma so much, she was her heart and soul. Since Y/N was the oldest, they were always very, very close. “I’m good, ma. I need your expertise really quick. Was ya busy?”

“Honey, I am never busy when it comes to you. Whatcha need”, her mom leaned up to the screen to get a better look at her beautiful daughter. “Ok, so I’m going to a party tonight. 90′s theme to be exact. We both know that all the girl are gonna have extensions down to they booty with bamboos and all but I wanna be different. What do you suggest?” Her momma chuckled as she thought of the fashion back then, bringing up old memories. “Well, baby. When I was growing up, I was very fond of the big ol hoop earrings that you can get at the beauty supply, clear gloss with a nude lip liner, mascara and beauty mark right on the right side of my mouth with a dark eyeliner. Now, with clothes, ya momma always stayed fly. I used to steal ya dads varsity jacket when he played football at Locke High with some either tight but baggy mom jeans, a bralette, and boots or a baggy jersey with some black bike shorts with scrunched up socks and sneaks.”

Y/N smiled at her mother as she continued with her advice. Soon, she was getting ready to go in her flared red bottoms and white tank with her toes in Nike slides. She arrived at the Thrift store as soon as it opened and went over to the men’s section; they just seemed to fit better and was way more stylish. She found an old oversized red school baseball with the number 93 on it. She smiled as she made her way to the bralette section. N'Jadaka is gonna love this, she thought as her hand reached for a black bralette (which had plenty of lace) big enough for her breast. She spent only twelve dollars on everything and made her way back home to shower and get ready.

Once she was done, she matched her fit with some high waist shorts, knee-high sock, and her bright red combat boots. Her hair was in a high pony with beads on a few locs and a red bandana wrapped around by her slayed edges. She was dancing to “Don’t Walk Away” by Jade on the Apple Music’ 90′s playlist when she got a call. “Hey, N’Jadaka”, she said with a smile and he responded. “Wassup, little one. I’m on my way now so be ready.” She rolled her eyes and as if he can see here, he said “you better stop rolling those pretty eyes of yours before they get stuck. Now, I’m around the corner. Open the door.”

“Say please”.

“Please open the door”, he said with a chuckle. She went over to the window to watch him park and waited for him to knock. Once he did, she opened the door and Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Erik was in a black buttondown Dickie shirt with a bright white crew neck shirt underneath, dark blue jeans, black Adidas Superstars with the white lines and a chunky, gold chin with diamonds throughout it and a black cap on his belt loop that had Oakland in white cursive. “Well, well. You look good,” Y/N said as he gave her a side hug. “Thank you, thank you. I’m my favorite rap group.” She folded her arms and said “NWA. Well, hopefully, you ain’t Dre because I ain’t tryna get my ass beat by some nigga.” N’Jadaka stepped back chuckling. “Dammmnnnn, you just beating my nigga, Dre though, huh?”

“Not like he beat that singer but eh.” She locked her door before they got to his car; he opened the door for her and they were on their way. She watched him drive as Snoop Dogg playing in the background. He leaned with his left hand on the wheel and the right on the armrest. His lips licked, so soft and kissable. He was handsome when they met at the store but with a nice trimmed beard and locks all done, he looked like a freaking dream. “So, Y/N, what ya got a taste for? The party is in Inglewood by Century. I’ll pay.”

“Honestly, I'm not hungry. We can just get frozen yogurt at Yougurtland”, she lied looking at the door. She didn’t eat at all that day because 1) she was nervous as hell about being at a party with the most attractive man and 2) she liked how flat her tummy was when she didn’t eat. Her stomach was still fluffy but it looked slimmer. N’Jadaka said “little one, we getting real food. Especially if there is gonna be alcohol there. Frozen yogurt or whatever isn’t going to do anything for no damn body.” Y/N looked over at him to see he was looking back at her. “I’m serious. Pick something.”

“How about Mexican food? I know there is a Chile Verde around there.” He smiled and said “that's more like it. I can go for a big ass burrito anyways. Carne Asada with everything and a large drink. When I go there, I asked for the onions grilled, meat well done and the cheese gotta be on point.” As he was talking, a sound got his attention. He looked to Y/N who had her stomach over her stomach. As she felt embarrassed, she looked straight and heard a small chuckle when she heard it again but not from her end. “I guess I made us even more hungry, huh?” She laughed at them as he did the same. “You did.”

Soon, they arrived in the parking lot and he opened the door for her to the restaurant. “Hello, welcome. How can I help you, sir” the young lady behind the register asked with a smile. “Yeah, can we get two Carne Asada burritos with everything? Then, I wanna add chips and guac and salsa and two large iced teas.” As he was talking looking at the menu, Y/N looked up too but when she looked at the cashier, the woman looked up and down at her with a brow raised. When Y/N cleared her throat and looked away, N’Jadaka looked at her and asked “are you okay”; she nodded and walked into a nearby booth. He paid the food and made his way, seating across from her. He noticed Y/N buttoning her top.

“Y/N, wassup? Why you fixing ya clothes?” He got no answer until he felt someone looking at their table. In his peripheral vision, he saw a dirty look from the woman who helped them. His eyes stayed on Y/N as he went to sit on her side. She looked at him as he wrapped his long toned arm around her neck slowly. “Y/N, don’t tell me you fixing ya shit because of the broad.” She tried to look down but he placed his finger on her chin. He held her cheek while he leaned into her ear to whisper. “I want you to look at her the whole time”. Y/N’s eyes lied on the cashier who was watching. “Don’t let that bitch make you feel bad about yourself, aight? She just mad she don’t look like you and can never look like you if she tried. She looks like she doesn’t even take care of herself. Her hair oily as fuck, skin ashy, and her lips looking like before Kylie.” She giggled in his ear while still watching the woman.

“Now, when you are with me, I don’t wanna see any shit like this again, okay,” he said finally looking back to her face. She grinned with a nod and he said: “aight, lemme get our food”. He kissed her forehead and got up. When he looked back, she smiled but noticed a heavier older woman coming out. She saw N’Jadaka pointing back at her and the older woman looking at her cashier with folded arms. The cashier held her hands in front of her and tried to look sympathetic. The older woman pointed at the employee then to the back once N’Jadaka made his way over. “Hey, little one. Here we go” he said as he passed her food. He started eating but she just watched him, sipping her drink. “What happened up there”, she asked.

He wiped his mouth and finished chewing, looking into her face. “Well, let’s just say when someone is fucking with my girl, I gotta check they ass”, he went back to eating and sipping his drink after he saw her smile and finally starting to eat. Once they were done, they stood to put their trash away when he noticed the cashier and the manager approaching them. “Excuse me, young lady. I am Gloria Gonzalez, the manager here and I would like to apologize for my employee’s behavior. It was very uncalled for.” N’Jadaka looked at her and Y/N said: “thank you, ma’am.” Gloria looked to her cashier with folded arms and said: “Selena, go on.” The employee said “I am very sorry for my behavior. I should be ashamed of myself.” The apology was very forced it was pathetic.

Gloria handed the money that N’Jadaka paid with and said “again, we apologize and your meal is on us.” N’Jadaka nodded, placing the money in his pocket and wrapped his arm around Y/N’s neck as they walked out. Once they got in the car, he started it saying “I told you. I keep muthafuckas in check.” She smiled and he did the same.

[This is How We Do It by Montell Jordans plays loudly in background]

They finally arrived at the dark shaded house. There was plenty of people walking down to it in flashy 90′s clothing, cars parked everywhere and the silhouettes in the window indicated the party was jumping. N’Jadaka parked, let her out and wrapped his arm around her neck as they made their way. He pulled out his phone as they got to the door and as soon as he placed it back in his pocket, a man with the same fit as his came to the door. “Aye, my nigga here” Jerald gave him dap as his other hand was occupied with a red solo cup. “Wassup, J. This is Y/N.Y/N, this is my nigga, Jerald.” Jerald smiled at her and said “welcome, welcome to my casa, fellow negroes.” She laughed and said, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“Come in, y’all. My girl in the kitchen of course”, he said leading the way. The crowd was so thick but that was no match for N’Jadaka. When they got to the kitchen, there was a small crowd around a ton of food and drinks. There was a woman with a jet black pixie hair, a rainbow-striped crop top, mom jeans and matching converse serving drinks. Her skin was a caramel tone and her eyes were a jaded green. “Sheila Baby”, N’Jadaka said and she looked up with a huge smile. “N’Jadaka”, she yelled with excitement. The group went over and he hugged her with one arm still attached to Y/N. “Sheila, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my baby sister Sheila. We went to school and the navy together”. Sheila pointed to her with a smile “you did, J’s hair?” Y/N nodded and Sheila put her hand up for a high five; Y/N gave her one. “Girl, you done blessed this nigga’s hair. He was walking around like a premature wet mop.” Jerald choked on his drink and coughed with a laugh.

N’Jadaka looked at her with a death stare and said: “don’t be mad at me because you look like a Nia Long reject.” She chuckled and said “alright Nappy with Attitude, don’t get roasted on in here. I’ll embarrass you in front of baby girl here.” N’Jadaka placed both hands in front of him and said “bet.” Jerald passed Y/N a cold cup of Jack and Coke as they watched. Sheila sipped her drink and started. “My nigga, don’t let me talk about how you looked before you removed your scars. This nigga looked like a vibrator after someone ate some Taco Bell.” Jerald started dying laughing then Y/N sipped her drink with a smile because of Jerald’s contagious laugh. “Aight aight, don’t lemme get on that neck. Why the fuck did you rip ya pubs off to glue it on the nape of your neck?” This time Jerald and Y/N laughed. Sheila smiled with a nod and said “aight, but why you look like a fake ass Michael B. Jordan? He looks like Melrose Ave while you look like Slauson Swap Meet.”

“Yooooo, I look way better that nigga. But you just mad because you look like Halle M. Berry. But the M don’t stand for Maria. Ya name would be Halle Moldy Ass Berry.” Jerry threw his white bandana as they all laughed and Sheila was the main one. “You win, big dawg. You win”, she said wiping her tears away. He took a bow and heard “Too Close” by Next playing. He looked at Y/N who was bopping her and drinking. He held his hand out getting her attention. “C’mon, you know you wanna”, he gave her cup to Sheila and they made their way to the floor. He danced backward as she tried to pull out from his grip. “C’mon, I don’t like dancing.” He spun her in a circle with both hands in the air. He stepped side to side and said “don’t lie to me, woman. Ya better shake those hips. I know you can.”

She rolled her eyes and before she moved to the beat, followed by her feet. He watched her with a smile on his face and pulled her by her jersey to him. She giggled as she play swatted him away. The night was full of good, music and people. In the middle of the party, Y/N was in the kitchen talking to Sheila about setting an appointment when all the other ladies tried to squeeze in while she sipped more drinks. N’Jadaka was outside at the patio table occasionally looking in as his friends played spades. “BOOM, give. Me. Ma. Monaaaaaayyyyyyyy”, said Marcus. Jerald rolled up another blunt and whistled to N’Jadaka to get his attention. “Bruh, she good in there. Came hit this.”

“Pause”, said Trevon who looked at his new hand of cards and the fellas laughed. N’Jadaka took the blunt and lit it, taking a long hit. “Enjoy it, bruh. It’s yours.” N’Jadaka let the smoke out through his nose looking back at Y/N. “JD, stop sweating the girl. She having fun in there with all them females. Ya acting like y’all fucking.” N’Jadaka eyes went to Trevon and he said “Trey, I barely know the girl so why would we fuck. She cool and all-”

“Then, why you watching her like you her damn daddy”, Marcus asked sipping from his drink. “Because she around a bunch of niggas she don’t know. Tryna make sure she safe”, N’Jadaka said before taking another hit. Jerald looked at his best friend then to the others. “JD is right. He brought her here and we all know how he gets. Let the nigga be”, he said. N’Jadaka nodded and looked back at to see she was by the door. “Hey, N’Jadaka. When you coming back in? I kinda feel like dancing again.”

“Thought you don't dance didn’t like dancin’“, he said and she stated with a smile, “I don’t” before going back in. N’Jadaka stood and made his way back in and took Y/N’s hand into his. As the music faded into another, he held her arm around his neck. N’Jadaka placed his right arm around her waist as she placed her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer to him as the sound of Maxwell’s Fortunate played. He looked in her eyes as she smiled up at him. They rocked side to side slowly, in silent. He sipped from his red solo cup and handed it to her so she can have a taste. She finally was getting used to being out and around him.

Her left hand reached his to back while his hand went to her behind softly. She looked up at him but his eyes were closed as he let the song take him away. She noticed his lips moving to the words of the song. They were so soft looking. Her eyes traveled down his chest, abs and to his feet. Damn, he is beautiful, she thought to herself. She felt his hand cuffing her behind lightly resulting her eyes to get low. The way his hand held her close to his pelvis made her feel all warm inside. She looked up to him but by the time she did, his eyes were already watching hers. His brow was raised up and a smirk on his face.

“Y/N, you aight”, he questioned. She nodded with a smile and uttered “I’m good. Just, uh, a little tired.” He nodded and went over to the kitchen with her hand in his, getting Sheila’s attention. “Sheila Baby, we gonna head outta here. Thanks for having us.” She smiled and said “bwoy, you know y’all are always welcomed. Here y’all go. I packed a ton of food for y’all to go with some of my sweet potato pie.” He hugged her and took the bag. “That food is for both of y’all, J. Don’t be a Fatty Mc Fatty and eat up all the food.”

“Oh hush. Love you girl”, he kissed her cheek and Y/N gave her a hug before they walked out. He drove as she watched the streetlights pass by. They lit against the dark sky and so did the tall buildings. “Thanks for coming with me. I hope you had fun”, he mentioned with his left hand on the steering wheel. “Don’t mention it. I did have fun.”

“So, In ‘N’Out still opened? Want a burger” he asked and she just nodded. “Y/N, you a grown woman who needs to use her big girl words. I need words.” She rolled her eyes and articulated “yes, I would love to partake in a cheeseburger meal, dear sir.” He side-eyed her with a smirk and said “jackass” making her laugh. They made their way to the restaurant, order two well-done double-double meals with chocolate milkshakes and ate in the parking lot. They talked for what it seemed for hours and before you know it, she had fallen asleep.

She felt the car stop and a tap on her thigh. When she opened her eyes, she looked around then to N’Jadaka’s smile. “Hey, you’re home. Lemme walk you to your door”, he said before hopping out. Y/N watched as he came over to open her door. He got to the door, opening it and taking her hand as she held their leftovers. “I’m glad you had fun tonight, little one. You made it not so borin’”, he said and she grinned. “Daka, that party wasn’t boring at all”, she added but didn’t get a response. “Y/N, what did you just call me”, he asked with a curious brow. “Oh, my bad. I called you, Daka. I did-”

“Nah, I’m feelin’ in. Say it again for me”, he stepped closer to her making Y/N look up to his eyes with her big brown ones. “Daka, I called you Daka”, she responded in a timid tone. He held her chin up and said “got a nice ring to it. Doesn’t it?” She blushed at his touch and said: “yeah, it does.” She can feel his thumb on her chin, softly rubbing back to forth. “You need a nickname, too. Hm, let’s see. How about...”, he paused and looked down at her waiting eyes. “With f a face and eyes like this, I would call you baby girl. What you think?” She smiled and said “I like it. It’s sweet.” They stood for what it was like hours, his hand still her chin. He gently pulled her face forward as she to herself. Oh my God. Is he about to kiss me? She bit her lip, closed her eyes but what happened next surprised her; he only kissed her forehead.

She opened her eyes as saw that he was looking right at her. “You good”, he asked and replied, “yeah, just tired.” N’Jadaka looked around then back at her. “Ok, well Ima let go ahead and sleep but I’m gonna text you when I get home”, he said wrapping his arms around her for a close hug. When they separated and he started walking to his car, she looked down at the bag. “Daka, what? You forget ya left food.” He turned to her and said “keep it in the fridge for me. We can eat that for dinner tomorrow.”

“What if I was busy, Daka”, she said with her arms to the side. He reached the driver side of his car with his brow raised and said: “you not.” She placed her tongue inside her right cheek with a smile. “Mhm, I thought not. I’ll be here at 6:30, I’ll bring some drinks and shit. I’ll see ya tomorrow, baby girl.” He gave her a wink that made Y/N’s heart smiled and stomach flutter. He got into his car and watched her go in but she watched him pull out his phone; her phone rung and she answered. “Yes?”

“Stop watching me and take ya ass to bed.��

She laughed and hung up, ready for what tomorrow had planned.

TBH, this was all over the place but the next chapter is on the way

𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮

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#n'jadaka #n'jadaka x reader #n'jadaka udaku #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x plus size reader #bp fandom #erik killmonger #summertime magic fic #artisticestheticreads

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wordsbydorothy · 4 years

Text

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.”

- Stanza 24: You Are Jeff by Richard Siken

Morning Silence

Chris’ parent’s CRV had that distinct old car scent. It was a mix of Wendy’s fries that rolled under the seat, spilled drinks and sports bags that had accumulated over the years. I leaned the chair back, pulling my feet up to my chest. It was too late for us to be sitting on the Western Esplanade. Two other cars were in the lot, but too far for us to be concerned. In the distance, the light thud of bass from Arawak Cay whispered in my eardrums. I could taste the salt in the ear, but my eyes were focused on the way the ocean battered the shoreline. The waves were rough, hitting the sand over and over.

Three weeks ago I flew back from Atlanta to visit my family. For my own mental health’s sake, I made the decision to stay at a hotel. I loved my family but being alone taught me that the way my family interacted with me only stressed me out. My first night, I ate at hotel’s ramen restaurant, too afraid to walk onto the streets, mostly out of fear that I’d see someone I knew. It was too early. I needed to get settled first. The restaurant was mostly quiet. I saw in a corner, watching stray tourists walking past – aware that I too could now be considered a tourist.

“You straight?” The waiters voice pulled me out of my stare.

I nodded. “Yeah I straight.”

“Une been home in a minute, I could tell,” he laughed.

“That obvious?”

He raised one eyebrow as he poured more sake into my glass and walked away. Pulling out my notepad, I doodled for a moment, biting into an eggroll when I remembered I needed to eat. I was deep in sketching when an all too familiar voice echoed down the hall. I paused, knowing it was too late to pay my bill and escape, so I sat still, hoping I’d blend in with the wall.

The waiter seated Chris and his family directly across from me, but on the opposite side of the restaurant. His sister’s laugh sounded the same as I remembered. I sketched for a moment, letting my hair fall into my face - an attempt to hide it but curiosity got the best of me. I looked. He looked back.

“You sure you good.” The waiter was next to me suddenly. He looked at me, then looked at them, then back at me.

“You know what, this een my business,” he said, leaving the bill on the table. I placed my card on top of it. It was my escape ticket, but I was too afraid to leave. So I sat. The waiter came and took my card but said nothing. When he brought it back, I stopped him.

“Is there another way out of here?” I asked.

He looked curious for a moment. His eyes seemed to be in search of a story, but it was clear he wasn’t going to ask.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “You have a good night ma’am, don’t do nothing too crazy ya hear.”

Closing my sketchbook, I took a deep breath and stood up, making my way towards the exit. As the gap between myself and his table started to close, I looked up once more. His eyes met mine and smiled this time.

“Alyssa,” he waved. His parents and siblings turned. Out the corner of my eye I saw the waiter pour himself a drink.

“Hi,” I whispered. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I said it. He got up, walking towards me and embraced me, but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. He pulled back, looking at me for a moment then took my hand and pulled me towards his parents. When we got close enough he let go, my hand flying into my back pocket.

“Good evening,” I half smiled.

“Mom, Dad, this is my friend Alyssa,” he said. I knew them already, but they didn’t know me. His brother and sister stared in awe.

“Nice to meet you,” his mom said. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Church,” his sister coughed. He ignored her.

“We used to work together at a firm in Atlanta,” he said.

“So we lying now,” his brother mumbled. He ignored that too.

Chris’ brother and sister knew the full story. For the most part, they took my side. His sister called him out when we were younger for not letting me meet their parents. His brother ignored him when he ghosted me. To some extent, I knew they liked me, but sibling loyalty was a boundary I refused to get in between.

“So you’re visiting,” his dad asked.

“No sir,” I answered. “I’m from here.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well it was nice to meet you.”

I nodded. In the corner the waiter was watching, shaking his head.

“You all have a good night,” I said, backing away. His father had gone back to eating, but his mom looked at me like she saw everything I was feeling. I turned quickly, walking towards the exit when I heard footsteps behind me and a hand grab my wrist.

“Wait,” Chris said.

“For what,” I mumbled.

“I- do you want to get drinks tonight? After I drop them home?”

“Don’t fucking do it,” the voice of the waiter called out.

I stared at him for a moment, about to turn away.

“Room 1172” I mumbled.

“Well Muddafuck,” I heard the waiter say as I turned the corner to walk back to my room.

------

Last winter at the bar, we both agreed we would stay friends for a while. We went out and got drinks, we shopped together, ran the Beltline together in the mornings. Our friendship felt like it was growing into something real. But suddenly, he stopped answering texts. The silence came back and once again, it was just me, my cat and the Atlanta Winter.

It was 2:30am when he knocked on the door. I curled up on the chair unable to sleep when the sharp sound startled me.

“It’s me.” The text lit up my phone. I wanted to text back something snarky, something that said how annoyed I was with him disappearing on me. But there was something about the morning silence that advised against it.

The bright light from the hall felt blinding as I opened the door. He looked at me, his locs in a bun on top of his head, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“You’ll see,” he answered.

I didn’t change. Walking through the hotel in a sports bra and some shorts felt strange, but at the same time it didn’t. His car was parked in front. The valet guys didn’t question or charge him, but I felt their eyes on me. I pulled my hair out of my bun to hide my face again, to avoid their boring eyes.

“Dis gyal can’t be serious,” I heard as the hotel doors opened again. Turning, I looked into the eyes of the waiter and burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls. It was a strange sound to hear early in the morning. He waved at me dismissively and I got in the car, thinking to myself that I really couldn’t be serious at all.

“What was that about,” Chris asked.

“Inside joke,” I said. He stared at me for a moment, then put the car in drive. Nassau at night was peaceful, atleast to the untrained eye. If you listened closely you’d hear sirens in the distant, the late night cruise ship pulling out of the dock, the honk from a driver upset at a pedestrian walking in the road or the steady thud of the night joggers. We passed Go Slow Bend and I stared out to sea. It had always been one of my favorite spots. There was something about the way it was beautiful but could be so deadly that attracted me to it time after time.

He pulled into Western Esplanade and rolled down the windows. He got out the car and I watched him, unsure of what he was doing. Pulling open the trunk I heard the sound of ice clink against a metal cup. When he came back, he passed me a cup that said Calvary Bible on it. I listened as the ice clinked against it, thinking back to memories I had of the place. It almost felt sacrilegious drinking whiskey from it. Then I thought of the way the youth leaders called me a whore. The way the people I called friends turned against me. The way church leaders told me I was ruining the men of the church. But by men they meant Chris.

“Do you not… drink whiskey anymore?”

“No, I do,” I said. “I’m just … thinking.”

“Of what?” he asked.

“Calvary Bible,” I answered.

“Oh,” his voice was light then, like he was tiptoeing into a room he knew he wasn’t supposed to be in.

We sat there in silence for a long while, staring at the ocean, the stars, anything but each other. The two cars in the lot left and then it was just us.

“You have a habit of ruining me,” I said. The whiskey had found a home in my veins, and I found strength in it.

“I- what?”

“At Calvary. You knew the power you had, and you let people say what they wanted. You made me the bad guy, and never once corrected your friends,”

“Im so-“ he started but I cut it.

“I’m not done,” I said. “You took so much from me and couldn’t stand up for me. Your parents don’t know me but all your girlfriends before and after me met them. Your best friend made my life a living hell. Then you disappeared. Not once, not twice, but three times. You promised me you wouldn’t leave this time.”

He was quiet then.

“You promised,” I whispered.

I chugged the rest of the whiskey then and got out the car, tossing the cup into the ocean. The waves pushed it against the sea wall and it clanged. Against the nights silence it was loud, echoing down the beach. I felt it in my bones, that echo. It felt like dragging nails down a chalkboard. So I screamed. I screamed against the waves crashing the shore. I screamed because I was in pain and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Then I turned, tears in my eyes and sat down in the car.

We were quiet then. Everything was. The ocean went still. The light thud from Arawak Cay had stopped. The sound of the windows going up startled me. Then his hand was on my knee. I stared at it, not sure what to think. So the whiskey thought for me. I pulled myself over the passenger seat and sat in his lap. Pulling his cup out of his hand and placing it in the cup holder, I looked at him. I looked at the man I knew I loved but shouldn’t. Reaching over, I cracked the window slightly then put my hand against his heart.

“I don’t want you to feel the way I feel, it would ruin you” I said. “This pain, it would kill you.”

Pressing my lips against his, I didn’t let myself think, I just let it happen. It was the only way he could understand what I felt. This was the only way to express the anguish that had made a home in my heart. First kisses turned to last kisses. I was present in my skin but watching myself simultaneously. For a moment it seemed there was no end, just a means for us to explain the way the words we could no longer say. When we finished he was in tears. They fell down his face like a torrential rain. He reached to cup my face, but I pulled away, shifting back to the passenger seat.

He does not move. He lies where he has fallen, and I stare at the orange light creeping up along the horizon.

- to love a church boy is to break your heart

#fiction #psuedofiction #fictionoftheday #flash fiction #flash fic #bahamas #bahamian fiction #bahamian pseudofiction

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 6 years

Text

Oh Ecstasy (Erik x Black Reader)

Listening: PARTYNEXTDOOR - Her Way

Dedicated to my loved one @allhailnjadaka who requested this and the Black Panther Fandom within the fandom. Hope you like it.

Short little one-shot. No smut, just a night out.

-----------------------------------------------

“Okay, that’s enough for you..,” Starlet re-po’s your Long Island Ice Tea and Ashley forcefully sets you down at the bar. You flip your dirty-blonde wig feeling good and beautiful, like Ciara even. Your IG pics did numbers with this wig. It really worked with your tawny brown skin tone.

“What?! All I said was I’m fuckin someone in this club tonight and y’all act like I said I have a bomb strapped to my chest finna blow this plac-”

“Cut her off. Only water,” Luwa says to the bartender who nods.

“Don’t listen to this bishhh,” you plead, “My money is green you better gim my GOT damn drink!” You bang on the bar one time and the bartender looks from you to Luwa before moving on to the next customer, aka Ashley.. which pisses you off. You hold your liquor way better than that lightweight. “Yeah, but I know my limit,” Ashley says. You didn’t realize you’d said that out loud. You kiss your teeth. “I came here to have a goood time and all y’all bitches,” you wave your index, “..Fuckin shit up for me.” Luwa is used to the shits, she takes your Roberto Cavalli clutch away leaving you with your phone.

“Uhm... Bish? That’s part of my outfit so I’m a need that back,” you say reaching out and grabbing at the air. It was true, you wore your black off-the-shoulder minidress with bell sleeves, black heels, and gold jewelry to match the gold charm on the bag. It was stylish and classy. A Look. The bag gets passed to Ashley who definitely isn’t giving it back. She was the mother hen and liked to pull rank over all of you. Your eyes narrow briefly and you let it go.

“I’m a dance with that nigga over there,” Luwa says and her head angles to a dark skin nigga with a fade and full beard. He's cute.

“Heeey Kofi,” you wave with a wink and he smiles. White teeth. Luwa abruptly pushes your hand back down. She hated when you showed any decency to her men, afraid you might be serious about getting at them. Reassuring her was a constant. “Tell me he don’t look like Kofi Siriboe and you the Jada,” you say watching her face flush. She was litty as a titty too.

“Drink some water. I’m a link with you all in 20 minutes,” she says sternly before heading off to do the lil thot moves you two practiced in your mirror at home. You drink some water thirsty ass, you mutter under your breath and Starlet’s mean ass rolls her tiny hazel eyes. When you first met her you thought they were contacts but her mother had the same eyes. “What bitch," you snap. "The water. I’m sippin’ it!” You make a show of taking a sip and she flips you off. She hated when you drank a lot because growing up her mom was a dysfunctional alcoholic. You, however, were very functional.. so oh well. You look back at your lil thot, Luwa. She was throwin that ass and having fun, something you needed to get back to.

Looking around there were a few guys who looked appealing, you only had to choose. With a sip of your water your eyes fall on a tall brown skin guy. He was clean shaven, crisp, cute. He looked like he just left left the barber. His eyes met yours and you looked him up and down before turning away. Boring. You could just tell by his energy. It was in his demeanor, he was too clueless. Your eyes fall on a heavier guy, sturdy with thick limbs and a bigger belly, long locs dyed blonde at the ends. He approaches you and you think of ignoring him just to be petty, but then he offers to buy you a drink. “Nope. She’s cut off,” Ashley says and it pisses you off all over again. “Fuck youu, Ash.” She gives you a curt smirk and you turn away.

“Well, you wanna chill with me or what,” the man says trying to look seductive, licking his lips but he needs a facial.. bad. His skin is dull, there’s a piece of crust in his eye, and you’ve already lost interest. He goes on talking. You miss the other part of what he says turning your attention back to the crowd where you spot another guy. Another dud, you can tell. Why is this club so full of boring ass niggas?!

“Exactly shorty. That’s why you need to come with me.” His voice is buzzing in your ear, but before you can snap on him, he speaks again. “Bla bla bla me and my boys in VIP if you wanna come up.” That’s all you hear and all you care about.

“You have room for four?” You tilt your head gazing up at him from under your long lashes and he bites his lip. “Yeah, we got room for four. Bring ya people.” “Oh I was just asking, I didn’t say I was bringing them.” He looks confused and Starlet gives you a dirty look. “Kidding.. kidding..,” you assure her. You weren’t kidding and she knew it. You wanted to turn up and they were too busy being responsible. You had enough of responsible from 8:30 to 5 every damn day. It’s Friday night.

“Lead the way,” you tell him and your girls follow with their drinks, with the exception of Luwa who’s still dancing and having the time of her life.

You ascend the stairs paying close attention to the steps and the railing so not to fall in your heels. You aren’t that damn shameless. He guides you next to him in a booth and your friends fill in on your side. You look around and every guy looks to be on some other shit. These were your people. You ignore the nigga’s arm around you in favor of picking up the Vodka bottle in the center of the table to pour yourself a shot. Ashley isn’t quick enough to stop you from taking a sip before she takes away the glass. The nigga laughs, “Y’all not into partying, huh?” Starlet won’t even look at him, but Ashley replies. “This our friend. Let us handle her.”

Annoyed to be in the same situation as downstairs, you ignore the tense banter and your eyes explore the VIP section a little further. You notice a few familiar faces, celebrities. No one A-list or super recognizable, unless you were heavily into the hip-hop and RNB scene. And you were. Pause. There’s a group of niggas and a few girls scattered on their laps. They’re sitting around a table with white chalky lines. You stand abruptly and make your way over. A few of them look up at your arrival, but one set of hooded, low eyes in particular has you frozen in place as you make eye contact. The moment lasts until your eyes proceed to examine the rest of his face. Smooth brown skin, thick lips, a lush beard framing his youthful yet strong features.

He’s beautiful.

“Shorty,” a voice calls out from the direction you’d just come from. You ignore it.

“Y/N,” Ashley’s voice calls. You ignore that too.

“Your name is Y/N,” the beautiful man asks still staring and you nod, eyes piercing through his. You want him to invite you himself to join the table. He catches the hint. “Come sit with me,” he mumbles tapping the girl on his lap. He has a lit blunt in his hand and his locs fall over his face giving him a dangerous look. The girl scoots to a different lap, obviously annoyed, and you cross over people making your way onto the beautiful man’s lap. He even smells good. Under the weed smell he’s fresh. You inhale.

“Why you leave the homie Bliz,” he asks and you have to think of who Bliz is before it clicks. That’s the nigga you just left sitting with your bitch-ass friends.

“That unwashed miscreant,” you shake your head in response and his brows raise. “It’s okay you can laughhh.”

“You a whole trip babygirl,” he says low eyes alight with humor. You can see a grill in his mouth and it only makes him more attractive.

“I know.” You reach your hand up to play in his beard and tug it playfully. You can see in his eyes that he likes it.

“You need a drink,” he says lowly never looking away. His voice is like velvet and gravel at the same time.

”I need several,” you amend landing a kiss on his full pouty lips and when your tongue slips past those soft pillows, he doesn’t stop you, falling in line with your rhythm.

When you pull back, his eyes go from your lips over your shoulder. You look back to see what he’s looking at. It’s Bliz and your girls. Bliz looks annoyed and his eyes fall on you in silent judgment. You could not care less. A girl comes near carrying a bottle of Ciroc and Mr. Beautiful waves it over. It’s passed to him.

“I think it’s time to go,” Ashley says mirroring Bliz’s judgmental expression and ignoring another man who is shamelessly checking her out at the end of the booth. She’d never date someone who partied. This was your scene, not your friends'. It annoyed you how they always looked down on this type of thing. You turn your attention to the table before you and feel Mr. Beautiful watching you, waiting to see what you’ll do.

“How much to ski?” You’re looking at Ashley but you’re asking the man underneath you.

“For you, Lindsay Lohan? Free.”

Lindsay Lohan. You liked it. You lower yourself to the table and watch a girl snort a line. You reach for her tool and put it to your nose, following her example and snorting a short line of powder. It’s a body shock, like swallowing a large spoonful of pure sugar. You wipe your nose and look up at Ashley’s face, gaped in horror. Starlet walks away and after a last look, so does Ashley. Bliz looks to the beautiful man and shakes his head sourly before walking off. You climb back onto your lap-seat.

“What’s your name, Mr. Beautiful?”

He wipes your nose getting what you missed. “Erik.”

“Why don’t I see you doing lines like everyone else, Erik?”

“I just sell the shit.”

“Mmm. What else you got?”

You eye the blunt between his fingers and he passes it to you. You take a hit and exhale blowing some of the smoke in his face. Then you do it again. On the third time, you put your lips to his and blow directly into his mouth. He lets you and you follow it up with another deep kiss, feeling his large arm wrap around your waist. When your lips separate, your hand reaches for the bottle in his other hand and he pulls it away.

“What you gonna do for it?”

“I’m a reach out again.. And you’re going to hand me that bottle,” you say slipping your hand down to his lap. You can feel that he’s hard.

After a long look, he smirks and hands you the bottle. You take a drink directly from it, not losing eye contact, but when you try to get back to the table, his arm tightens around you.

“I know what you need. Come with me.”

It’s your turn to smirk. You pull your phone from your bra.

“Put your number in it.”

He shakes his head. He knew where this was going, but he wouldn’t stop you from leaving. Your friends were still waiting on you, afraid to leave you there drunk and alone with nothing and you knew it. As lit as you liked to get, you weren’t reckless. You were functional. He puts a number in your phone and hands it back to you. You call it and his phone rings. He shoots you a look as if to say, ‘Are you happy now?’ With one last peck to his full lips, you get up and grab the bottle, taking it with you to the staircase. Once you descend, carefully, you go directly to the exit and find your friends. They’re waiting and extremely annoyed.

“This is why I wanted to go rollerskating,” Starlet says and Ashley rolls her eyes. “Where’s Luwa,” you ask. “She left with that guy. She texted us and said she was going.” Your jaw drops, “Wooooow and y’all just let her go?” An uber pulls up and you gasp. “Wait a minute. Wait. If I hadn’t come out y’all was just finna leave my ass? You have my fuckin.. Robertoooo Cavalli. How would I get home?” You were name-dropping, yeah, but you were also serious. “You’d have found a way. Since you don’t need us apparently,” Ashley says climbing into the front seat of the uber. You sit in the back with mean ass Starlet.

“I sure would have. In fact I got that nigga’s number. I might start calling him to get me from random places just cuz I feel like it!” Starlet scoffs beside you and Ashley groans.

“I can’t wait till you sober up so I can tell you how stupid you acted tonight. Reckless ass. I hate going out with you when you act like this,” she says and her voice drones on and on, but you can’t hear it anymore. You feel good. You came out for a good time and you got it.

The car rolls on and you nestle the vodka bottle to your chest, eyes drifting shut.

THE END

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#erik killmonger #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger imagines #erik killmonger x reader #erik x reader #erik stevens #erik stevens au #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens x you #killmonger #original #erik killmonger fanfiction

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callmetippytumbles · 6 years

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Home, A TRR Fanfic Series, Part 4 (MC)

Tippy’s note: So this would have been out sooner but I had one idea of what was going to happen and the characters had a different plan. I kind of went with it and this is where I ended up. Lot’s of flashbacks. Again like Part 2, this focuses more on Halle than Liam. Don’t worry he is coming and the real fun begins. Anway, hope you like this one.

Disclaimer: Choices owns this and I do not.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Words Counted: 4,671 (Daaaamn! Issa lot!) Rating: PG Pairing: Liam x MC (Halle), endgame Trigger Warnings: Police Brutality

Tags: @youwontlikewherewewillgo @sleeplessescapades @trianiasti @jasoncrouse @lizzybeth1986 @hopefulmoonobject @ayo-minty-jess @flyawayblue56 @drakewalkerwhipped @drakelover78 @umccall71

Summary: Halle adjusts to seeing Rhon again and confronts her mother

At least 11 years ago…

Halle and Rhon-Ron were laying under the big oak tree. If they looked downhill, they could see the Freedom Baptist Church. Whenever they needed to just talk, hang, make-out and just generally needed a place to be away from everyone but each other, this was where they went.

Rhon was laying on the grass using his hoodie as a pillow while Halle was using him as her pillow, her box braids splayed across his chest. The copious shade of the tree gave them plenty of protection from the late-summer heat.

“Do you have to go Halle?”

“Well if I tell my dad that I don’t want to go to NYU, he will be upset about the orientation that he paid for.”

“You could have gone to A&T. It would have still pissed off your mom.”

Halle sighed. “It’s not just about my mom.”

“But that is a part of it.”

While her mother’s disapproval was nice, it wasn’t the reason Halle told her parents she wanted to go to NYU even though up until her, they were a strict Howard family.

Her parents met and fell in love at Howard, they graduated from there, her older brother Hakim graduated from there a year before. To ask her parents there would be no Berrys if there wasn’t a Howard.

When Halle got her acceptance letter in the mail, the tradition continuing was a foregone conclusion. Then that night happened, and everything took a hard left.

Halle turned to look at Rhon. If you looked at him, you couldn't tell that a few months ago he had massive swelling over his right eye from an orbital fracture.

“It’s not that simple. I am tired of being here, of having to explain my existence, of having to be afraid all of the time. I just want to be somewhere else.”

“Are you tired of me?”

“What? Never,” Halle said. She reached out to caress his face. “I love you Rhon. I always will. I just can’t stay here.”

As much as she knew that her decision to go so far away for college hurt him, she needed to do it. Halle couldn’t stay and be sane.

Now...

Halle took Rhon in. He was very tall, could stand eye to eye with Liam, which is saying something. Rhon wasn’t the wiry kid she left when she went to NYU. He was lean, but not bony. His skin was exactly like Mama Reed’s, his dark umber skin was smooth and only served to highlight his large round eyes. The same ones that Jaleesa had. His hair was recently coiled like he was about to start growing locs.

Mama Reed came out from the kitchen to greet her grandson. Rhon still was holding his daughter while he and Halle stared at each other. She placed a kiss on his cheek that went unnoticed.

“Look Rhon. Halle’s back. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“Yeah, Nana. She does.” He lowered Jaleesa to the ground. “She always has.”

Halle hid a small bashful smile.

“Halle, you and Rhon-Ron can catch up over dinner.”

“I don’t know if I can--”

“Nonsense, Halle Yvette.” Mama Reed interrupted. “You are staying for dinner.”

“Yes, Mama,” Halle reflexively replied.

“You two should talk. Jaleesa could help me finish up dinner. Come Jaleesa.” The older woman gestured for Rhon’s daughter to come follow her.

“Okay, I guess they can’t just kiss and make up in front of me.”

“Jaleesa,” Mama Reed warned.

“Sorry, Nana.” The girl quickly followed the older woman to the kitchen. Rhon and Halle’s gaze followed her.

“Your daughter is certainly an interesting one,” Halle said.

“People used to say that about you.” He turned to look at Halle. “Still do actually.”

Rhon pulled Halle in for a tight embrace. They held each other for several moments before finally separating.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other. Or spoke.”

“It certainly has,” Halle said. “How have you been? What have you been up to?”

“You know. Surviving. Raising Jaleesa. I’m a mechanic, now.”

“You did always have a way with cars.”

“How about you Hal?”

“Me?” Halle put her hand on her nape. “Well, I was in New York for a while, which you already know, somehow ended up in Europe for a bit, needed a break, and now I am here.”

“Europe? Where in Europe?”

“You wouldn’t know it. It this tiny country called Cordonia. It’s off the coast of Greece.”

Rhon’s eyes narrowed, racking his brain for information that wasn’t there. “You’re right. I don’t know it.”

Halle shrugged. “Neither did I.”

“How did you end up there?”

“It’s a long story. Multiple volumes really.”

“I can tell. You get this look on your face when you talk about it. Like you are happy but exhausted. Like how Shay used to look when Jaleesa was a baby.”

“Shay?” Halle raised one of her eyebrows. “Not Shay Walters. That’s Jaleesa’s mother?”

“Yeah,” Rhon admitted. “It just sort of happened. I mean, it's not like we were talking at the time.” He paused for a moment before adding, “No point in waiting for you.”

Halle flinched at Rhon directness. “Right.”

Jaleesa ran into the living room. “Daddy, Miss Halle, dinner is ready. Also, Nana told me to give this to Miss Halle.”

The child held a diamond ring. Rhon’s face fell as he looked at its brilliance. Halle gave a nervous chuckle.

“I took it off before I washed your hair. I must have left it by the sink.”

He gave Halle a careful look. “No point waiting.”

They joined his daughter and Mama Reed at the dinner table. Mama Reed offered grace, and everyone ate. Tonight’s dinner wasn’t a whole Sunday feast, but it was still a reminder of home. She made a green bean casserole, cornbread, and fried chicken.

“Mmmmm,” Halle said as she bit into the chicken. “I missed this.”

“Lemme guess,” Rhon smirked. “They don’t have southern fried chicken in Caldona.”

She finished chewing her bite before correcting, “It’s Cordonia, and they do not. Most frying is actually pan-seared.”

“Cordonia?” Mama Reed asked.

“Don’t worry Nana. It’s a secret European country around Greece.”

“It’s no secret. Just small.”

“Well, it’s certainly big enough for you to have that rock on your finger.”

Halle nervously twisted the ring on her finger.

“I didn’t want to pry earlier Halle, but are you engaged?”

“Yes,” She paused while looking at the ring. “No.” A small frown appeared on her face as she shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

Mama Reed had a frown of her own, “I see.”

The adults fell silent as Jaleesa’s utensils echoed in the room.

“Everyone is quiet now.” The child smack her mouth making sure that it did not have any food in it before continuing. “Does this mean I can talk?”

“Just what do you have to say, Leesa?”

“I wanted to ask Miss Halle if there were king and queens in Cordia like they have in England.”

“Sorry about that Hal,” Rhon explained. “Jaleesa is going through a princess stage, and she is obsessed with royalty.”

Halle nodded. “Oh. Yes, Jaleesa. Cordonia has a king. The king doesn’t have a queen yet.”

“When will he get one? A king can’t rule without a queen. He would be lonely.”

Halle’s smile faded away as she thought of Liam. She wondered what Liam was doing right now. How upset he would be with her for leaving. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, returning to dinner and Jaleesa’s question.

“He might get one. We will just have to see.”

Another awkward silence fell on the room. Halle didn’t know how to begin to explain her time in Cordonia to Rhon and Mama Reed who barely knew the country existed let alone reveal that Cordonia has a brokenhearted king and it’s all her fault.

The rest of dinner went on quietly. Afterward, Rhon packed up Jaleesa to go to their home.

“Will I see you again Miss Halle?” Jaleesa asked.

“I hope so. If I do go back…” Halle paused for a moment. She didn’t know where she would go if she weren’t going to stay in North Carolina. She wasn’t ready to consider returning to Cordonia, but New York didn’t feel quite right either.

“If I leave, I will be sure to see you before I go.”

The young girl smiled as she got in the backseat of Rhon’s car. He waved to Halle.

“It was nice seeing you. Maybe we should catch up sometime. Lay under the oak tree.”

“That would be nice.”

With that, he got into his car and drove off. Halle stood in the driveway and watched him leave. She stayed after his vehicle was out of sight. Mama Reed tapped her on the shoulder.

“Halle, you have something sittin’ on your spirit. You have been lost and adrift since I have laid eyes on you.”

Halle sighed.

“It’s late now, and you should be heading home, but do talk to someone,” the older woman urged, squeezing her shoulder. “You can’t find your way if you let whatever is weighing you down hold you back.”

Mama Reed embraced Halle and went back inside for the night.

***

Later that evening, Halle was driving home. It has been a long time since she had driven these roads at night. There was unease about being out here. Especially alone. Her eyes were on the road, but her mind was elsewhere.

She and Rhon-Ron were on their way back from the party. They took one of the back roads because it took them to the route towards both of their homes the fastest. Time was of the essence since they were already out past curfew.

“As long as nothing bad happens we should be home in about 15 minutes,” Rhon said as he put his foot on the gas.

“I’m sorry about my coat.”

“It’s no big deal, Hal,” Rhon said. He looked over at Halle. “I can’t have my lady coatless.”

Halle looked over at him and smiled as she put her hand on top of his on the gear shift. Rhon looked down before returning her smile. They made it to the main stretch of highway and were almost 10 minutes away from getting to their neighborhoods when they first saw the flashing lights. They kept driving since there was no indication that they should pull over. That was when the siren went off.

Halle brought her mind back to the present as she took the final turn into her neighborhood. Unlike New York, in North Carolina, the streets were dead quiet after 9PM. After living in “the city that never sleeps,” everywhere else was eerily silent in comparison. The only other time that Halle was met with this kind of unusual quietness was when she and Liam walked along the Seine late at night in Paris.

“Tu es l'amour de ma vie,” Liam said to her.

His gaze was soft and sincere, but the way his eyes never left her showed just how fervently he believed this. Days earlier she wanted to go but deemed herself too weak to do so. At that moment, however, she was under his spell. The genuine kindness and sincerity that Liam spoke to her with always resonated. Her mind, body, and soul were still drawn to him even when it hurt.

Halle was sitting in her parents’ driveway. She looked at her phone with the dozens of messages. She looked under his name in What’s App.

Liam: 17 new messages.

Her mind drifted back to their last night in Paris. In his private box.

“I know it hasn’t been easy Halle,” Liam said to her. “I just hope that in the end, the good parts are enough to make the hardships worth it.” He took her hand in his.

Halle kept her eyes focused on their joined hands before looking up at him. Her eyes were filled with as much uncertainty as their current predicament.

“Liam, we will have to see.”

His face fell, his eyes darted down to their hands. Seeing the hurt that her lack of confidence caused stabbed Halle in the heart. While the flash of pain he felt was hard for her to watch, she couldn’t lie to him and act like she was completely comfortable with where they are right now.

Liam took his other hand and made it so that both of his hands were wrapped around one of hers.

“I’ll do whatever I can to ensure that the rest of your time in Cordonia...your time with me makes up for it,” he pledged. His eyes were steadfast and serious.

Halle knew that Liam meant what he said. She knew that he would devote a lifetime making up for it if that is what it took. She just wasn’t sure if fate would let him, not that it mattered. Halle loved Liam too much to dwell on that. She wanted to focus on tonight and making sure there was a lifetime for them.

Halle clicked his name and started looking over some of the messages.

Why did you run away? Is it something I said? What did I do wrong?

Whatever it is, I’m sorry.

Please talk to me.

As she continued to read the messages her heart raced. She felt his fear and heartache. Halle looked up at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her face illuminated by the phone. The woman in the mirror looked back at her. The reflection still poked at her insides. It’s eyes demanding an answer.

So was it worth it? Can you live with you?

Halle mulled it over in her head. All things considered, this could have ended much worse. Her time as the other woman, a side-chick, ended with her getting the man in the end. She won. She got the man, she is wearing his ring, and soon she will be his queen. Yet in the mirror, Halle saw anything but a winner let alone a queen in waiting.

She stopped returning her own stare and left the car. As soon as Halle entered the house, her mother was waiting for her. Joanne was sitting in Harrold’s Lazyboy, the recliner angled to the door. She was in her bedtime attire, reasonably priced satin pajamas, her nighttime skincare sinking into her skin, and her steely grey strands wrapped up in a scarf. The intensity of her gaze and the tightness in her jaw brought Halle right back to childhood. It was like she was late for curfew all over again. Joanne took a deep breath before she spoke.

“Halle, we need to talk. Please sit.”

The “please” was a formality, Halle knew that this wasn’t optional. She cautiously walked to the love seat as Joanne rotated her chair to face her.

“Did you have a nice time at Mama Reed’s? That is where you went isn’t it?”

“Yes, mother, I did see Mama Reed.”

“Was Rhon-Ron there? You know he has a daughter now, with Shay, and she is not out of the picture.”

“I am aware. I met his daughter Jaleesa. She is a lovely girl.” Halle narrowed her eyes.

“Did you want me to be bothered by this?”

“Not bothered. I just wanted to let you know what you would be signing up for if you and he started again.”

“I am not looking to start anything with Rhon right now. I just came home to take a breath and figure myself out.”

Halle and her mother have had plenty of arguments over the years. Joanne didn’t always dislike Rhon. When they were in high school, and Halle got the scholarship to Saint Mary’s was when her feelings about Rhon started to really change. That was when the upward mobility project started.

Hakim went through a similar thing when he was in his teens. Joanne wanted him to be seen with the right kind of girl. Someone with some pedigree and ambition. Hakim brought only one girl home, and she definitely did not fit Joanne’s ideal. Hakim just stopped, and Joanne never bothered him.

Halle was different. Hakim was happy to do as he pleased behind his mother. Her father gave his silent support. Halle did not want to have to do the same. Since Halle did not wish for to Rhon to be a secret, he became a thorn in her mother’s side to this day.

“I am not saying that you are going to, but just if you were--”

“I am not,” Halle interjected. “Mom you have always had this hang-up about Rhon. He is a good person. He didn’t do anything to you. Why do you have this ax to grind with him?”

“Rhon is good,” Joanne admitted before adding, “you deserve better.”

Halle took a deep breath.

“Halle you may think you are better than me because you don’t think about whether a man is rich or poor, just if you love him. Like it or not, that is only because you don’t want to admit that you have the choice because your father and I worked hard to make it possible.”

Her daughter shook her head, but Joanne continued undeterred. “You have choices because your father and I worked hard to get to a certain place where they are available to you. Rhon is nice and caring, but he has nothing to offer but trouble.”

Halle knew precisely what her mother meant when she said trouble. She was talking about the night that she got arrested.

Harrold and Halle came in after several hours at the Goldsboro Police Station. Luckily it was the start of the weekend, and they could sleep in if need be. Halle and Rhon-Ron were detained for hours on charges of car theft and resisting arrest. Rhon got the additional charge of striking an officer.

Harrold went to the police station with a friend of his, Arnold Jenkins who was also his attorney and Reverend Michael Bishop chapter president of the Goldsboro/Wayne NAACP.

They all met at the station and convinced the police to drop the charges under threat of public shaming for the illegal arrest, and a massive civil lawsuit against the county that would result in a multi-million dollar payout. The Goldsboro Police was in no position to do that. Especially after they recently paid out handsomely in a wrongful death suit the previous year. The NAACP had a big part to play in that and would happily do it again. The police would drop the charges, no records. That came at a price. The police would forget everything as long as the NAACP and the families did as well. Everyone agreed.

Harrold was merely relieved that his daughter was home alive and in one piece. He wished he could say the same for Rhon-Ron. Mama Reed quickly took him to the hospital to get his eye looked at. Harrold had not seen that level of bruising and swelling in person in his entire life, only in pictures.

When he and Halle came through the door, Joanne and Hakim were waiting for them. Hakim hugged Halle and Joanne hugged them both.

Joanne looked over Halle, she had some minor cuts on her face from being pushed into the ground, she was alright. Once that was done she let her have it.

“I am glad that you are alright but what were you thinking striking an officer like that?”

“I didn’t hit him harder than he deserved. I was defending myself.”

“Harrold and I taught you what to do when you are dealing with the police. You and Rhon could have come home in body bags if they bothered to tell us at all.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t have to with white people. You not being a slave is enough.”

“Mother!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me, young lady. This is just another indication of your rebellion, and I have had enough.”

“Joanne--” Harrold interjected. Joanne held her hand up to stop what she knew was coming.

“No Harrold. I have had enough with you encouraging this.” She looked at her husband with a fiery gaze. “I am not having the ‘they are just young kids in love’ discussion again. If it were up to you, we would have that discussion on our way to do our weekly visits to see our child at the Detention Center in Wayne County. No more.” She finished with an emphatic gesture to signal that she was entirely done before turning back to her daughter.

“Halle you are grounded. Indefinitely. You are not to see Rhon anymore.”

“That’s not fair!” Halle shouted.

She ran up the stairs crying with murmurs of Joanne and Harrold bickering in the background.

“Mother, we have not spoken in ten years. This is what you want to talk about?”

Joanne took a deep breath, “No. You are right. I’m sorry. I am just worried about you.”

“Well, I have been fine for the last decade. No need to trouble yourself.”

Her mother recoiled when she said that. However wounded she was to hear it, didn’t stay on her face for long.

“I know we have not always been close.”

“That is because you wanted to control me. Turn me into you. I am not here to relive your life mother.”

“I don’t think that. But yes, I did wish you made some of the choices I made,” She agreed.

“I love your father. He is the love of my life. I can’t be stupid and say that our relationship has been not only a loving partnership but an advantageous one.”

Halle watched her mother intently as she continued.

“When I married your father in ‘79, it was for love. Harrold and I barely had any money. What we did have was ambition. We both wanted to push ourselves further than our parents or their parents ever got. We did that.

With that shift comes choices. I could choose things for you and Hakim that Harrold and I could never choose for ourselves. We never had the picket fence and a yard to run around in. You did. You loved swimming, Harrold and I could support it. I hoped that by you going to Howard, becoming a Delta, you would be around the kind of people, the kind of men, who could do that and more. Rhon,” Joanne paused.

She looked at her daughter across from her. She could see not just her adult child but her younger self. Halle’s eyes never left her mother. Joanne took a deep breath and continued.

“Rhon, couldn’t do that. He would be kind and love you, but never push you forward. I was looking out for your best interest.”

“Mom, but I didn’t want that.”

“No,” Joanne accepted with a sigh. “Do you want that now? With Liam?”

Halle perked up, and her eyes grew wide.

“I know about Cordonia too.”

“But how--”

“I found out one night after using the family computer. I love Harrold, bless his heart, but he does not know how to clear the history. I thought I would find porn and learn a few things.”

Her daughter shuttered at the thought.

“I have a marriage to keep... interesting,” she qualified and then added, “We didn’t last that long just because you know.”

Halle shook the thought out of her head. Just some things a child should not know about her parents.

“Anyway, what I saw were all of these weird tabloid sites, and Harrold likes gossip nothing. I decided to look to see why he was interested and I saw you. At first, I was worried, but when I saw that you were courting a prince and now engaged to a king, I understood.”

“Mom, I--”

Joanne eyes went from soft and apologetic to fierce and determined in a flash.

“Halle, I love you so much. I want so much for you, but I want to be here for you, on your terms. If you want to talk to me about Liam and Cordonia and why you left. I will be here for you. No judgments.”

Halle nodded, “Okay.”

Halle got up to go to her bedroom before she made it to the stairwell she paused and turned to her mother.

“Mom, do you ever wonder if you gave up too much of yourself to get to where you are? Like you sold your soul?”

Joanne inhaled. “I did. I sometimes wonder if pushing to get to this place meant leaving behind a part of my identity, a part of myself behind.”

“Do you feel that way now?”

“No. Harrold and I were still ourselves, but we did have to fight to keep the parts we wanted. It’s why we stay connected to our community, Harrold chose to run his practice for lower-income families instead of specializing in cosmetic dentistry where it's more lucrative. Besides, what was I looking to keep? A stereotype? I may be living better than my parents, but I am still who I am.”

“Staying true to yourself is a choice. It’s one you make every day. If you were less true to yourself the day before it doesn’t mean that you have lost yourself completely. It means that today is a chance to take it back.”

Joanne let her words hang in the air as Halle took them in. Neither of them moved and just let the silence be present between them as they usually did before now.

“I know it’s only just after 10:30, but I don’t keep late hours you young people like to do. I am going to bed.” Her mother said getting up from the Lazyboy. “I need my beauty sleep to maintain my youthful looks.”

Joanne hugged Halle and kissed her on the temple before heading to her room. Halle followed.

Laying in her bed Halle wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Every time she wanted clarity, all she had in her head was noise. She looked at her phone. The picture of her and Liam on the lock screen stared back at her. This one was from their engagement at the Statue of Liberty. They were both so happy at that moment. The two people in that picture had no idea that a traitor that sought to do them harm was in their midst. That a few days later their best friend was going to have a bullet lodged in his shoulder, or that an orchard that was centuries in the making would lie in ashes. They were just happy and in love.

She unlocked her phone and looked at more photos. Lots of them were of her and her new life. She looked up at her mirror in the darkness where the pictures of she and Rhon-Ron were plastered up. She and Rhon were all smiles there too. The smiles were different. Halle’s with Rhon was so full it’s a wonder her face could contain it. Then Halle remembered that that photo was taken before that night, and she is not a carefree teenager anymore. Even with that knowledge, both people were her. Knowing what she knows now, living through what she has lived through now doesn’t make her smile less genuine.

She thumbed through more pictures on her phone and stopped on her favorite of Liam. He was sitting in his favorite spot to view all of Cordonia that he shared with her. His small eyes were narrowed in serious thought looking at all of the lands. The people. Even with all of that thought, his face was relaxed, there was no tension in his jaw. His calm, reflective nature radiated through her screen. Halle wished he was here now.

She opened up her WhatsApp and thought to quickly call him. She dialed but promptly hung up. What was she going to say after leaving the way that she did? She couldn’t think of anything that didn’t feel wrong or somehow manipulative. She closed the app and her phone and stared up at her ceiling until her eyes grew tired and she fell asleep at last.

Part 5 [1 /2]

#the royal romance #playchoices the royal romance #choices the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #long post #choices fanfiction #liam x mc #liam x mc fanfiction #liam x halle #tw police brutality #tw police violence

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moonandstarsabove · 7 years

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ch.1 - it’s the 4th of july!

ao3, the walking dead, darylxoc, multi-chapter

this story contains:

multicultural POC lgbt+ characters awareness of mental illness realistic family dynamics slow build romance important and valid platonic relationships mythology themes

the cast consists of:

Kat Graham Amandla Stenberg Jaden Smith Lana Parrilla Idris Elba

oOo

Everything inside Diana screamed at her to run. They had to run, there was no other way they would survive. They had to escape. The others were behind them, and they were relentless, fueled by the endless hunger that characterized them. She could hear them; their throaty screeches and feet thumping the ground like war drums.

They were slow, whereas she and her family were not, but they also never tired or ran out of breath, and that gave them the advantage.

Diana was falling behind. Her parents, brother, and sister were only backs in the distance, disappearing behind thick trees with every stride.

No matter how fast she ran or how much her legs pumped to propel her forward, the distance didn't diminish – she was running in place as if waist deep in quicksand.

She opened her mouth to call out to them and water poured in, origin unknown, torrents rushing into her mouth and nose, down her throat, and sloshing heavily in her lungs.

She was drowning.

The pressure in her chest became unbearable like she was about to burst open like an overripe fruit. Panic held her heart in a beastly grip and she felt like death. Surely that had to be how death felt like.

Her eyes rolled backward as tears of fear swelled in them, and then the tears were indistinguishable from the water drowning her. Oxygen deprived, Diana clawed weakly at her throat, desperate for relief, and felt her short fingernails tear through the skin and flesh, reaching the rings of her trachea.

This was impossible, she should be feeling pain.

Nothing made any sense.

How and why was this happening? Who was chasing them? Why were they running?

Before she could form another thought, she was tackled from behind, her legs finally giving under her, and she slipped into the sweet bliss of oblivion.

oOo

Diana woke up with a gasp and took hungry gulps of air, her hands shot to her throat, yanking at the collar of her shirt to loosen it; it felt more restraining than it ever should have.

Once she regained her breath and reassured herself of her surroundings and safety, she stared at the top of the tent with cinnamon brown eyes wide open. She was safe, she was safe.

"Merda, that was fucking scary,” she whispered, trembling and feeling weightless as she rode down the adrenaline high from the nightmare. It wasn’t uncommon for one to dream of their worst fears; drowning being one of Diana’s.

She wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand and kicked herself out of her sleeping bag, appreciating the air against her flushed skin.

Sleepy mumblings to her right had her turning to face Alice, her younger sister; she found the girl glaring at her. The early morning sunlight filtering through the cloth walls of the tent made the teen's half-closed hazel-green eyes shine like gems.

"Da fuck you on ‘bout s’early in d’mornin’?" she asked in a nearly unintelligible mumble, thick eyebrows furrowed profusely; an expression familiar to her face. "Imma fight you and your mom."

"My mom’s your mom, smartass." Diana grinned, but her smile turned grim. "I- uh, had a weird-ass dream, wanna hear about it?"

Maybe talking about it would make it better. Maybe Alice would laugh about it and call her a ‘fucking idiot’ like she usually did and leave her feeling pretty silly for being scared about something so stupid. - Diana rubbed over her throat, feeling the skin intact, but the pulse still unsettled. - It would be preferable to the lingering physical and mental discomfort the dream had left in her.

To her disappointment, Alice groaned and aggressively turned herself around and away from Diana.

"Come ooon, I always listen to you when you tell me about yours," Diana whined, hoping it didn't sound desperate and shook her sister's shoulder. In response, she got a kick to the shin, softened to a thump by the sleeping bag, and the familiar flip of Alice's middle finger over the girl’s shoulder.

“Lemme sleep! I was dreamin’ ‘bout Lance and you ruin’d it!”

Fine, whatever; nightmares were just dreams, and dreams were not real, no matter how realistic they felt. She was sure she’d forget about it soon, as it was with dreams. By the end of the day, she would know no more of water-filled lungs nor blood-slickened hands.

Diana swatted Alice's finger away and turned to her other side, to her and Alice’s little brother, the youngest of the three but also the tallest: an astounding 6ft of lean and sinewy teenage boy.

Unlike Alice's curly afro, Felix had taken to style his hair in locs, which he usually bound at the crown of his head; they were loose now, spilling around his head like a spiky halo.

He was curled into a tight ball inside his bag. The movement behind his eyelids told her he was already awake so she teasingly pulled on one of his locs to bring his attention to her and in retribution received a nondescript punch to the stomach, which she scoffed and smirked at.

"Ay, what is up with you two and violence? I’m like a punching bag over here."

"It’s ‘cause you’re so annoying. Don't touch the hair," Felix mumbled before curling up tighter into himself and continuing to pretend to sleep, "and shut up," he added and covered his head until only his nose was visible.

Diana shook her head at his antics, far too used to it to feel insulted.

She leaned over him on her elbow and whispered to where his covered ear would be, "Happy birthday, you big grumpy wumpy baby."

He shuffled inside his sleeping bag in response, shoving her away. A muffled reply of ‘piss off’ soon followed.

oOo

It was an understatement to say Diana was disappointed with the day’s begin.

Rummaging around in her bag for any device that showed the time (her smartphone had run out of juice two weeks ago), she found a wristwatch she never got around to wear and widened her eyes at the pointers showing 5:30-ish.

Okay, she’d been used to waking up around this time for school, but she was on vacation now, and she’d missed out on perfectly good sleeping time because of a pointless nightmare that was nothing more than vague recollections. She called bullshit.

She tried going back to sleep, she really did... But the damned sunlight always painted her eyelids red, no matter where she turned and how she positioned herself. And then there were the birds singing their chipper morning songs, waking up the entire forest.

She needed perfect darkness and silence to fall asleep, and it just wasn’t happening. She envied her siblings, who had fallen back asleep so quickly, undisturbed by anything around them.

When she completely gave up, the wristwatch read 6:55, and she thought that was a good time as any to finally get up.

Quietly, as to not wake Alice and Felix back up, Diana traded her sleeping shirt and shorts for the clothes from the day before – a tank top under a red plaid shirt and knee-length jean shorts, which showcased the stubs of her leg hair slowly growing back, luckily almost unnoticed against her brown skin. She tamed the waves of her dark hair into a messy ponytail and grimaced at the wet baby hairs at the back of her neck; the aftermath of humid summer weather and an agitated night in an enclosed tent.

She stepped into her running shoes and zipped open the tent-flap. The air that rushed in was less stale in comparison and Diana inhaled deeply before sighing, loving the dry earthy scent.

She let the flap open so her siblings could also profit from it, put her hands on her hips, and turned her face up to the tree canopy with closed eyes.

A refreshing breeze rustled the foliage above, Diana heard birdcalls and summer insects starting their daily buzz from all directions. The air smelled of dirt and leaves and yesterday’s fire, the embers of which had glowed deep into the night.

She might miss having Wi-Fi and general modern commodities, but this closeness to nature was something she'd never experienced before and it was...new, and good, very good. If not a little tiring, especially when you've been at it for fourteen long days.

She took another deep breath and got to her morning routine. Their toilet paper was long gone, so they had a little plastic bag with usable leaves as substitute pinned down with a rock next to their ‘toilet tree’ – her dad had to teach them the difference between which greens were good to go and which would cause them to wiggle in their seat for days.

The water they had was strictly for drinking and cooking, so she wiped her hands and face with a secret reserve of wet wipes she kept for herself in her messenger bag; so she was a bit selfish, fight her.

Diana sat down at the fire pit of the isolated little camping site and brought out of her bag a book titled "The Passage", which she had bought at the airport on the day they’d arrived; her first purchase on American soil.

She had initially been attracted to the iridescent beauty of the cover, but now, sitting on the carved sitting log and rapturously reading her way through the final hundred pages, she found it was actually quite good; not that she had very high standards regarding books, to begin with.

The whole purpose of the trip had been to come visit Aunt Cátia and her family, who lived in Atlanta, Georgia.

Cátia was her mother's little sister and Diana’s Godmother. She'd gone to live in the States five years prior, about the same time Diana and her siblings had joined their parents in Switzerland.

They'd only seen each other through Skype since, when at all until Cátia had finally had enough of it and had bought her sister and her family plane tickets to come see her. The only problem had been with the other person that had also been invited.

Diana was startled out of her thoughts and her reading when she heard loud, very loud yawning and turned in her seat to see her dad stepping out of his and mom's tent. The golden morning light reflected on his dark skin, giving him a glowing sheen.

He walked to her wordlessly, offered her a nod, which she returned, and pretended to punch her on the side.

Diana ‘oofed’ playfully and grinned up at him as he absentmindedly hugged her to his side and scratched her under the chin, calling her a ‘good girl’.

She pushed him away with a laugh.

"Morning," she added, putting away her book and feeling a bit victorious that she'd been up sooner than her early bird of a father, even if it had been unwanted.

"‘Good mornings’ are for the morning," Samuel responded – his usual response, every morning without fail – and squeezed her shoulder to tone down on her smugness.

She laughed and wiggled away and patted the space next to her on the sitting log.

"Come, sit with me and wait for breakfast," she joked and did nothing to hide her grin.

Samuel crossed his arms, making his biceps swell, and raised an amused eyebrow, with the contrast of his hazel-green eyes staring down at her. "Oh, you’re waiting for breakfast? Get off your damn ass, you're gonna help me. I always gotta fucking do everything in this family, none o’ you lift a finger to do a single damn thing. Dad’s always there to cook and clean and drive you places." The cussing was so familiar to his way of speech that it went unnoticed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Pai is the best and we are the worst children in the whole wide world.”

A warning look from him had her up on her feet and doing as instructed. She knew she could play around with her dad, he was like a child himself sometimes, but she didn't want to accidentally trigger one of his notorious bad moods. Whenever that happened, the most ridiculous of arguments would break out between him and his three children, stubborn clashing against bullheaded, and it always ended with one or both parties’ day ruined.

So, bantering back and forth, they lit the fire in the fire pit and prepared scrambled eggs with chopped up sausages for breakfast. How they had managed to have fresh eggs this long was a mystery to her, one she didn’t dare question.

Diana was walking back from their rented jeep with their breakfast refreshments, when Irene stepped out of her tent, still bleary eyed and yawning behind her hand, but already dressed for the day in a get-up similar to Diana's. This camping thing had certainly changed her mother’s sleeping habits, since the woman usually slept in underpants and nothing else, as she didn’t like the restricting feeling of pajamas. It often made for uncomfortable sightings back home since Sam shared those habits.

Diana approached the shorter woman from behind and hugged her while planting a sloppy kiss on her freckled cheek.

Irene smiled and turned in her daughter's arms to return the affection. Then she took the half-full bottle of orange juice Diana had gotten from the cooler and they both went to sit at the fire pit.

Irene took her designated spot next to Sam and proceeded to kiss her husband thoroughly, despite just having had slept in the same tent.

Diana averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "For real, at the breakfast table?" She was glad her parents got along so well, but sometimes she had to put up with some indecencies no child should ever witness from their parents; they were very open about their affections.

Irene swatted her hand in dismissal, "Yeah, you'll see if you won't do the same when you find o amor da tua vida.”

"Ugh, but I won’t be like you and not at the table," Diana mumbled and scratched at a mosquito bite on her calf. She couldn’t imagine herself being gooey heart-eyes over someone like her parents were, it didn’t fit her.

"Shut the hell up and eat your damn food," Samuel said and thrust a plastic plate and fork at her, the smell of the meat making her salivate. She took the food gladly and scooped a forkful into her awaiting mouth.

“I miss my breakfast cereal,” she commented to herself, chewing half-heartedly.

Irene chatted loudly about old gossip Diana didn't care to listen to – she’d already heard it all the day before -, and Sam listened silently along while eating.

Diana took a swig of juice straight from the bottle and just observed them.

She always thought of her mom and dad as a perfect balance of each other, not only their hot-cool personality but their appearance as well.

Irene was short and petite, of Colombian and Brazilian descent, with dark brown eyes and shoulder length dark hair. A woman her age, well into her forties, would be expected to have some amounts of wrinkles, but by the miracles of her Latina skin, which was oily to boost – a trait which all three of her children had inherited, yay –, Irene's wrinkles only manifested around her eyes when she smiled.

Samuel was of Cape Verdean descent. He was admittedly not very tall, scraping 5’8”, slightly shorter than Diana, with broad shoulders and beefy arms. His black and gray coiled curls were always cropped close to the scalp, his hazel-green eyes were constantly stuck in an intimidating glare that was basically his trademark, which accentuated the crease between his brows and the crow’s feet around his eyes.

Diana shoved the last bite into her mouth just as her mother asked her if the kids were still asleep. With puffed cheeks, Diana could only nod. She made a noise of realization in the back of her throat and gestured by her head with her hands, attempting to reference Felix by miming his hair.

"For Christ's sake, mija, swallow your food and then talk. I swear to God, you only have the body of a twenty-one-year-old, your brain still hasn't caught up." Irene shook her head and rolled her eyes when Diana smiled like it had been a compliment. She had always been childish, there would be no changing that, she took after her dad in that sense.

Diana made a show of thoroughly chewing her food, swallowed it and dramatically took a swig of juice. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and addressed her parents again, "What I meant was, you got Felix's present?"

"Nah, your mother made us look through all kinds of shit for hours, jumping from store to store until my back almost broke and we didn't fucking buy him anything," Samuel remarked sarcastically.

“Then you shouldn’t’ve jumped,” Diana cracked, to which Samuel began to reply with an amused half-smile growing on his lips but just huffed and shook his head in defeat.

Diana had been there when they’d gone shopping on the day they left her Godmother’s, to stock up on food and other necessities for their camping trip, but she didn't know if they bought him anything then or if they wanted to wait until they were back home to get him a birthday present.

Sam returned from the jeep, carrying baseball gear in his hands that Diana knew for sure would be a success with her brother, and he handed the items to her for a closer look.

There was a set of three baseballs, a sturdy leather glove, and a dull metallic bat with a purple bow wrapped around the handle.

Diana nodded in approval; yeah, Felix would go crazy over it. Baseball wasn't very popular in Switzerland, so you could rarely find good gear, if at all, and the boy had wanted to try the sport for ages.

It was a pity that their trip's sole purpose had been family time only – which had partially not gone according to plan –, and not sightseeing or other activities.

Next time.

Right then, chatter like bickering and movement from her and the kids’ tent caught her attention and in a feat of rushed panic, Diana threw the objects at her dad, relieved when he caught them before something fell into the grill or pan over the fire.

Alice stepped out of the tent and greeted them with the mockery of a formal bow, "Good morning mother, father, and less importantly, sister. I present to you, the birthday boy."

For whatever reason, she began singing ‘We Are the Champions’ in a pitch too low for her angelic voice while making dramatic hand motions towards the tent.

Felix jumped out with a big flourish and waved and blew kisses at his surroundings, as if there were a huge crowd awaiting him, then dropped to his knees while victoriously pumping his fists in the air in exaggerated slow motion.

Alice sang a few more lines and stopped while Felix continued celebrating, clearly enjoying his moment and no longer grumpy. The older girl walked up behind him, slapped him upside the head and called him a bobo. Same old, same old with those two.

Felix, in high spirits, ignored her and started doing his ‘Estrondo’ moves, a ridiculous ‘dance’ invented and performed by the main characters of a Portuguese amateur short film by the same name, that Felix thought to be the peak of Portuguese comedy.

His knees were bent in a half crouch, arms as if he was hugging the air under him and he moved them to and from his body while dancing around in semicircles. All in all, it was the goofiest thing ever, and Irene and Sam hated it, because ‘it made him look half-witted’.

That had never stopped him.

When he was done and straightened himself up, mom and dad skipped the reprimand and enveloped him in a tight hug. He was almost tall enough that his chin hit Samuel's forehead; it was a comical sight, to be honest.

Seeing her sister to the side, Diana opened her arms in invitation, but Alice just sneered and shoved her arms aside while sitting on the same log but as far away from her sister as she physically could.

Diana beamed at her and patted her cheek, which almost got her her hand gnawed off; Alice did not like to be touched, and affection – verbal or physical – unless she initiated it, made her very uncomfortable.

After being released, Felix sat down on the free space between his two elder sisters and both teens accepted breakfast from their dad.

"Can't wait to see what you got me," Felix said around a mouthful of meat and egg.

“What makes you think we got you anything?”

“‘Cause you’re not terrible parents and you love your son very much and want him to be happy?”

“Nice.” Alice offered her fist for Felix to bump.

“You keep playing that card and I’ll start using it against you,” retorted Irene, “Won’t you vacuum the living room because you’re not a terrible son and love your mother very much and want to see her happy? Huh, like that?”

“Ho-ho, nice.” Alice bumped her fist against Irene’s outstretched one.

“Pick up your jaw and finish eating, and then we’ll talk presents, papito.”

When the birthday boy all but inhaled the last remnant of food on his plate, Sam gave him the things he’d hidden behind his seat.

The fifteen-year-old boy went bananas over it if his excited swearing was any indication. And just because it was his birthday, the only punishment he got for his foul mouth was a smack upside the head, administered by yours truly on behalf of Sam, the hypocrite.

While Felix was showing off his present to a jealous-but-trying-not-to-show-it Alice, a blast sounded in the distance, making everyone freeze and turn like a dog that spotted a squirrel. It reverberated throughout the forest, making nearby resting birds take immediate flight and screech hellishly.

More loud bursts followed, and everyone started to crank up on the worry until Alice reminded, "It's the 4th of July, bro. Today, the whole country celebrates with you."

#fanfic #twd #read pls

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stonecoldfemme · 7 years

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tagged by the beautiful pink champagne drinking heiress @vinterfalcons (<3<3<3). i tag @teaforlupin @allahhoyo @soyeahso @idontreallyfuckwithcheese @osunism @imperatorkhaleesi @faerymorstan @cloama do the thing and put me in yalls business if you wanna

LAST…

 [1] drink: caramel black tea

 [2] phone call: a relative called but i didn’t answer cause they only call when they want something lmao

 [3] text message: @cloama

 [4] song you listened to: Drown the Lovers by Ritual

 [5] time you cried: like three days ago

HAVE YOU EVER…

 [6] dated someone twice: If you wasn’t worthy the first time, you can’t get this blessing twice fam.

 [7] been cheated on: Yes, and it is THE WORST.

 [8] kissed someone and regretted it: Suprisingly, no.

 [9] lost someone special: Yes.

 [10] been depressed: My default state.

 [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: Yeah.

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS:

 [12] Grey

 [13] Rose gold

 [14] Mint green (same)

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

 [15] made new friends: Yes.

 [16] fallen out of love: No.

 [17] laughed until you cried: Yes.

 [18] found out someone was talking about you: A lot of people I don’t really fuck with spend a lot of time talking about me and asking other people what I’m doing, so.

 [19] met someone who changed you: Yes.

 [20] found out who your true friends are: Yes.

 [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: Yes.

GENERAL…

 [22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: I only have like 60 friends because I only add family and people I know. And I rarely use it anyhow.

 [23] do you have any pets: No but I’ve already laid down the law in this household and we’re getting it new cat ready.

 [24] do you want to change your name: Yes.

 [25] what did you do for your last birthday: If I wasn’t drunk I was at work.

 [26] what time did you wake up: Like.....12:30ish-1:00pm (it’s satruday and i have a cold)

 [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: Talking to @vinterfalcons and being smitten

 [28] name something you cannot wait for: GRADUATION and hopefully landing a fucking job and traveling

 [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: like two seconds ago she keeps stealing cookies out the cookie jar and thought i wasn’t looking and i looked at her and she literally just froze for a solid three minutes my moms is weird yall

 [30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: I think it would have been nice to grow up in a better neighborhood.

 [31] what are you listening to right now: Try Happines by Daniel Gidlund

 [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: No.

 [33] something that is getting on your nerves: My family.

 [34] most visited website: YouTube cause I live for makeup tutorials, paper crafting, cooking, hauls and relationship advice videos.

 [35] elementary: An absolute nightmare.

 [36] high school: An absolute nightmare ft. hard liquor and mental illness.

 [37] college: A conclusion to the thrilling saga. (Stay tuned for the epilogue “Grad School ft. mental breakdown and crippling debt).

 [38] hair colour: Black, reddish-brown.

 [39] long or short hair: Medium length locs.

 [40] do you have a crush on someone: I have not been at all subtle about this I don’t think. Or the Virgo in me thinks I’ve been more loud about it than I really have been. (Virgo me: *posts obscure photos and music and assumes everyone gets it*)

 [41] what do you like about yourself?: I can drink an 8oz glass of Barcard 151 with no chaser in less than 5 seconds and still beat you in an arm wrestling match right after.

 [42] piercings: I’ve had my nose pierced multiple times but that seems to be the only one that is constantly rejected--I always get some kind of infection and can’t keep it in. I’ve had an eyebrow piercing, and “snake bites” on my lower lips through high school.

 [43]blood type: i have no idea??? i’ve literally never thought to ask??? i’m only now just realizing it is kind of an important thing to know???

 [44] nickname: jas, jazzy, jayjay (literally only my aunt does this lmfao), princess

 [45] relationship status: Single.

 [46] zodiac sign: VIRGO SUN. VIRGO MOON. CAPRICORN RISING.

 [48] fav tv show: Hannibal, Unsolved Mysteries, America’s Test Kitchen, Brooklyn 99, Empire, some others but i haven’t watched much telly thanks to school taking over 99% of my life

 [49] tattoos: No, but I really want a unique, custom one done by an excellent artist. I’ve been searching for the right one for years now.

 [50] right or left handed: Right.

FIRST…

 [51] surgery: None. I don’t think my head injury counts as surgery?

 [52] piercing: Ears

 [53] best friend: @cloama @sleepy-ouji and one in G.A.

 [54] sport: I have two left feet I would kill myself.

 [55] vacation: I vaguely remember going to Niagra Falls I think I was 12 and with my aunt.

 [56] pair of trainers: I had them official light up joints!

RIGHT NOW…

 [57] eating: toast

 [58] drinking: tea

 [59] i’m about to: make a classmate give me the answers to auditing homework cause i’m still under the weather and don’t feel like doing it

 [60] listening to: see above

 [61] waiting for: decoration for a care package i’m sending

 [62] want: a cat

 [63] get married: idk

 [64] career: first year accountant. which means i’ve got the title but don’t know what the fuck i be doing

WHICH IS BETTER…

 [65] hugs or kisses: Hugs.

 [66] lips or eyes: Idk why but I always notice lips first, so.

 [67] shorter or taller: smol

 [68] older or younger: older

 [69] romantic or spontaneous: either or

 [70] nice arms or nice stomach: can’t regulate on these heathens if i ain’t got killer arms *flexes*

 [71] sensitive or loud: both

 [72] hook up or relationship: i’m a virgo. if we hook up and i catch feelings, i will kill you and anyone else you fuck with. know this.

 [73] troublemaker or hesitant: sign me up for both.

HAVE YOU EVER…

 [74] kissed a stranger?: Yes.

 [75] drank hard liquor?: Yes.

 [76] lost glasses/contact lenses?: No, only because I’m used to keeping my glasses in one set place.

 [77] turned someone down: Yes.

 [78] sex on first date?: No.

 [79] broken someone’s heart?: I hope not.

 [80] had your own heart broken?: Yes.

 [81] been arrested?: Twice, but I am #Delivert

 [82] cried when someone died?: Yeah, but it was only because I saw my dad and my aunt cry.

 [83] fallen for a friend: Y I K E S.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

 [84] yourself?: No.

 [85] miracles?: No.

 [86] love at first sight?: Yes and there is a funny story from high school behind this lmao.

 [87] santa claus?: No.

 [88] kiss on the first date?: Yes.

 [89] angels?: <3<3<3

OTHER…

 [90] current best friend’s name: Got more than one, see above.

 [91] eye colour: Brown.

 [92] favourite movie: CATWS & Insidious

#about the blogger

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cynthiadshaw · 5 years

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What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey?

Every twist in our story, challenge we face, and obstacle we overcome is an important part of our story. These difficulties make us stronger and wiser and prepare us for what’s ahead. As we grow and succeed we may imagine that soon the challenges will fade away, but in our conversations with business owners, artists, creatives, academics, and others we have learned that the most common experience is that challenges never go away – instead they get more complex as we grow and succeed. Our ability to to thrive therefore depends heavily on our ability to learn from our experiences and so we are asking some of the city’s best and brightest: What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?

Dawn Treader | a nonprofit who is raising awareness to defend and protect the rights of widows and orphans through the exploration of local artist, live music, and some dang good coffee

Mikaylah McGee

The most important lesson we’ve learned is, the process is more important than the prize. The process itself is the prize. Providing for orphans and widows is our oxygen, its our DNA. We don’t build homes for orphans and widows over night. It takes time. Our dream is to change lives all over the world but that begins with taking advantage of every hour and disciplining ourselves to be competitive for the helpless over time. We live for the PROCESS.

dawntreadertx.com @dawntreadertx @dawntreadertx

Ria Hartfield and my business is Locs By Ria

The most important lesson I learned so far was to believe in myself because and not sell myself short. I’m a self-taught stylist so I was very insecure about my work. I wasn’t 100% sure if I was even doing it right but my clients would be extremely satisfied with the results. Some of my clients won’t even go to other stylists. It took a long time for me to recognize my worth as a loctician and to realize that I really am talented.

@locsbyria

Loviatar’s | Vintage Event Rentals & Interior Curation

Photo Credit: @laurenapelphoto HMU: @sydneyannlopezhair

A valuable trait we have had to channel is patience. As designers that deal in predominantly vintage goods, we are always on the hunt for unique and eclectic items. Often times it would be easier to pick up a missing piece at a conventional retailer but we know that the end result is that much more rewarding if we put in the extra time to hunt down the perfect piece. We are finding that people truly do appreciate the little details and the story that is attached to each object, making our efforts worthwhile!

loviatars.com @loviatars

Letty Stewart | Lash Artist & Esthetician

In my journey I have experienced so many things. It hasn’t been easy but with the help of my family I have finally found my dream job which is a Lash Artist at Peachy Keen Studio and I am so happy to be where I am at now. My obstacles in life have been tough from dropping out of high school to abusive relationships but I have managed to find the light at the end of the tunnel. My biggest accomplishments have been thanks to my husband. He’s inspired me to be who I am today. I know that my children will be inspired as well to be better and create a world full of joy and love.

linktr.ee/letty.peachykeenstudio

Joshua Harris | Professional athlete | Fitness consultant

Lynne Jones

The harder you work, the less you worry. When your work ethic is at a high level, that eliminates any doubt you may experience because you know how hard you’re working and that gives you an unwavering amount of confidence.

thepeakwork.com

Kiesha Hick | Entrepreneur, Eye Candi Bar

@thelavishluxe

The important lesson I have learned on my journey so far is, self importance, self development and patience, while coming out of my comfort zone, to do what I was called to do, empowering women, and giving them the confidence to look and feel beautiful!

@eyecandibar @eyecandibar

TK Kader | Author of the international best seller “How to Punch the Sunday Jitters in the Face”, Entrepreneur and Angel Investor

You can accomplish anything you want in life and become unstoppable as long as you practice belief x discipline.

@tkkader

Alexandra Goodman | designer

You are going to have some negative experiences. It could be as simple as someone not liking your work or being denied an application to participate in a local art show. You cannot let those experiences define you. Do not let them become setbacks. Keep pushing forward. Focus on the praise you receive from clients and their genuine appreciation for your creations.

etsy.com/shop/agoodmandesigner @agoodmandesigner

Acenette Gonzalez and Justin Ramirez | Owners of Maravilla Cacao Confections

A valuable lesson I’ve learned on my journey is collaboration is a key to success. I say this because collaborating with others brings inspiration from places you never thought to seek it from. It has allowed me to to create with others on different artistic platforms and see different points of views. All while helping that other independent business as well. The great thing about being a small business owner is the support from other small business owners. We all want to see each other succeed and that’s a beautiful thing to me.

@maravillacacao [email protected]

Elena Jones | Mom | Wife | Entrepreneur

@katiemeckleyphotography

Moving to a new country has been a great challenge. To start again, especially while tending to young children, was much more difficult than I imagined. Throughout this journey, I have learned that success, in its truest sense, doesn’t come with haste or ease, but to those who exercise the three P’s: passion, persistence, and patience. First, in order to accomplish anything noteworthy, you have to have an unyielding passion for your work with a single, noble goal in mind: an objective that goes beyond your own material success and that truly benefits your clients and the greater community. If you don’t believe in the product or service you’re selling, then you need to be selling something else. Second, I have learned that very little can be accomplished unless you are persistent in chasing your dream; this means waking up in the morning with a plan of micro-goals to accomplish for the day and repeating that routine until you see results. Every day is an obstacle course that must be navigated with focus and tenacity. It also means adapting strategies that are not working, yet keeping your overall mission in mind. Finally, I have learned that nothing meaningful can be achieved without patience and that an enduring success can only be accomplished over time. The old saying, “good things come to those who wait,” may be dismissed nowadays, but it rings true in my life. The setbacks we experience—the lost sale, the incomplete checklist, the long-term client who decided to go elsewhere—are opportunities to better learn our business and grow in virtue. There is no such thing as failure as long as we continue to see the big picture and keep moving in the right direction.

@latinamomintheheartoftexas @latinamomintexas

Magnolia Elvis | music producer & recording engineer

@Dj_ron_t

You have to always be prepared to work; even on your off days.

VibeLabDallas.com ShoutOutMagnolia.com

Addie Roberts | Registered Dietitian and Nutrition Coach

The most important lesson I’ve learned is that people don’t thrive under more rules around what NOT to do with food. Instead, I’ve found that lasting change is made and people are able to flourish and achieve their goals when the coaching message is promoted as food freedom without obsession around what they’re eating.

generalwellnessnutrition.com @generalwellness youtube.com/generalwellness

Kelly Harrod | Body Liberation/Self Love Advocate

The most important thing I’ve learned on my journey so far is the importance of flexibility. So many times we plan with good intentions as society tells us that those who fail to plan, plan to fail. Some times life does it’s own thing, causing out beautifully crafted plans to fall by the wayside. Learning to be flexible has allowed me to be more forgiving of myself and others when things don’t go as I had hoped.

@the_self_love_squad @selflovesquadig

ChristFit Unashamed

Community is so important to growth of person physically, mentally, and Faith.

linktr.ee/christfitunashamed

Ashton Lewis | Actor

Patience and persistence. If you’re working hard at what you want, don’t beat yourself up for, one, sucking at it when you first start. I’m a recovering perfectionist, so this is a hard one for me. And that’s an ego thing, right? If I’m focusing on how much I suck, that’s entirely about what other people think of my progress. But what other people think doesn’t matter: if I’m thinking about that I’m just torpedoing my own joy. Second, don’t beat yourself up for taking a bit to figure something out. Sometimes it just takes longer than other people. But what I’ve learned on my journey is that if you’re patient, and keep at those skills you’re trying to hone, they often open up and start blooming over time. It’s difficult to see in the moment but you look back and see what the journey was and how important it was to take the long path and struggle through it.

@actionlewis backstage.com/u/ashton-lewis

Tre’Quwandous Love | Aspiring model Natural Hair Enthusiast and Hospitality expert

@shotbyadrw [email protected]

You have to move in life knowing that the things you are seeking are also seeking you and will find you in the most divine fashion.

@trelovetrelove @TreCLove

Diana Pàez | social communicator and journalist | Founder and CEO of Let`s go By Diana Paez

My biggest lesson in this wonderful journey I have been gone through is to be patience and understand that good thing happens exactly at the moment have to happen,. sometimes we reject what we have and we don’t pay attention to the wonderful things around us. I have learned that every person in the world have a special place and labor to do while were living the life and enjoy every moment in the present can be the only thing that change our future. Every lesson will be a part of the process in our life and we need to take them as part of example to tell other people that fall off is not too bad when we can get up and be better. patience is part of the process to grow in every dream you want to make it real.

@letsgo.by.dianapaez letsgobydianapaez.com

Lizz Hurley | Visual Artist

The most important lesson I’ve learned so far is that sales don’t determine talent. Sales will come, focus on perfecting your craft.

lizzhurleyart.com @lizzhurleyart

Jacqueline | Empowerment Executive & Life Coach

My Starry Eyes My Intuition is My Superpower! You Never need to justify your existence. Say less than you know; show less than you have. What I practice in private I will be honored for in public. Leave All in a better space than before I arrive. Allow my potential to come out and play big on the planet. Permission Granted!

@jacquelineisms podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/permission-granted-the-jacqueline-show/id1475436982

Blakk Juu | Hot New Rap Artist from keepit1hundredint

That if you don’t believe in yourself, then no one will so I think in myself beyond boundaries of measurements, I also learned you need active, positive people backing you up so much love to my label keepit1hundredint #usagainsthem.

@blakk.juu @usagainsthem @blakkjuu keepit1hundredint.com @BlakkJuu soundcloud.com/keepit1hundredint

Brittany Smalls | personal blogger

@filmmaker_j

I think the most important thing I have learned is that you should always stay true to yourself. People (myself included) put so much effort into trying to conform to society’s expectations, we often lose ourselves. For so long I was scared to put myself out there and go for everything I wanted because I would look at someone else and point out all of the things they have, that I don’t and I never stopped to acknowledge all of the qualities I have. Once I realized that I am not unworthy because I lack certain qualities someone else may have, my life changed and I gained so much confidence. I have never been happier. it’s made a huge difference in how I view myself, in my marriage and in my life all together. What makes you different, makes you beautiful.

@_sincerelynotyours

Maria Cruz | Paper florista

@kittyboo_

There are many things that I have learned and still learning, in a world we’re everything is “help me and I will help you” you kind of fall into a pattern of let me see how much I can get out of the situation. I have other colleagues that do the same thing and they always advise me pick your prices higher don’t sell yourself short, its never enough it’s always to low! They tell me. I learned that when you start doing something you love and greed gets in the way, it’s stops being something you love it becomes WORK and the reason I started my own small business was precisely because I did not want to work a job that made me feel prisoner of my life. And when greed comes into play that’s exactly what happens you become prisoner of money of greed and everything that involves. Don’t get me wrong of course i want to make money. I am a mother of four and I need to bring the bacon but being honest. Now three years in this business I have learned how to price, how to help my customers and be smart about my business. I can say we never stop learning EVER but with the right mentors around and a little patience I have learned a lot.

@katys_flower_wall

Mosiah Perales | Goalkeeper | Goalkeeper coach and Instagram influencer

Over little a year of my Instagram account (I made my account on May 24, 2018), is that if you want to get yourself out there on social media, you need to know what you want and the goal of why you are putting yourself out their, but when it comes to interactions with your followers and people who view your content, open your mind for other people’s comments and opinions even if they are negative. I’m doing what I love and making my passion more than a dream. If you want something, make time for it and be dedicated, don’t be afraid of failure, I’ve learned so much from failing. I was scared to put myself out there and what people would say but I didn’t let that distract from what I wanted. I want to influence people in a good way as well as get noticed and hopefully become a pro soccer player.

@fuerzagkeeping

Justin Stringfellow | DJ/MC

The most important lesson that I’ve learned in my journey so far is that there is always room for improvement in your craft. Like many artistic pursuits, the DJ field is very saturated. In order to stand out, you have to work really hard and constantly be improving. It’s also super helpful to have others to look up to and learn from. The journey of growth is just as important as the destination.

@justin.thedj mixcloud.com/JustinTheDJ

Astrid Garces | Branding Creator

Josben Rodriguez

Life is happening now and I have to be present to live it. not holding to anything in the past and not worrying about the future. Also it’s too short not to do what I love and what I am really passionate about.

@astrid_garces

Zach Rigsby | Fashion blogger & Design student

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my life is to never let anyone else’s judgment or negativity drive what I do or wear but instead to let criticism inspire me to become better.

@zach.rigsby

Bondie Metchore | Digital Marketing Consultant | Web Designer & Social Media Strategist

In life, the biggest lesson I’ve learned is that change is inevitable. Things end, pain eventually goes away and there’s always a new goal to go after. Enjoying the actual journey is a blessing that we tend to overlook. Living life from a place of knowing that nothing is forever has helped me stress less during the difficult times and value more the beautiful moments that life offers.

In Business, I have learned that gaining a loyal client is more important than making a quick buck. People like to feel valued and heard and when you lead your business with love and service, clients always come back.

bondiemetchore.com @girldesigningdreams

Jonah Levine | Co-founder & Designer

The most important lesson I’ve learned is perseverance. The idea or the accumulation of ideas has in time been a bit of a struggle, but we put our heads down and figure out what needs to be done.

I’m very happy and proud of the brand that’s been created and we will continue. It’s a product for a niche market and we recognize that. Perseverance will get us through. Perseverance is what has gotten many things done in fashion and in life.

At L’Escalier we hope to bring the idea, the thought that while things may be difficult, perseverance can prove to be true.

shoplescalier.com @shoplescalier

Kyler & Kaelyn Silas (Ky & Kae) | Recording Artists/Musicians

When we were little, we were eager to be teenagers/young adults. Now we’re in middle and high school, and we just want time to slow down. We can’t believe in a few years, one of us will be off to college. Life is too short to just dream about what you want to do and not put anything into action. You have to always put your best foot forward and commit to whatever dream you want to come true.

@officialkyandkae youtube.com/channel/UCITNM6MLuu2CODIHATCuvQA bequestmusic.com

Zeke Jeremiah | Director, CEO/Founder of UTubeSensations and UTubeSensations Kids

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey is to trust the process. In the beginning I would get stressed out easily because of so many things that would come up. Now I’m better prepared from experience, but mostly easy about it because things won’t always work out the way you wanted it too, so I relax and trust God through the process.

@campbell.zeke @UTubesensations @UTubeSensations-Kids @Forever-and-a-Day @zekejeremiah @utubesensations @utubesensations_kids

Trish Keller | Virtual Health & Fitness coach

The most important thing I’ve learned on my journey so far is how important the power of a positive attitude is. I started my journey in a pretty dark state, struggling with body image issues, unhappiness, feeling overwhelmed, and just feeling really stuck in life in general. Through coaching I learned to look at things in a more positive light, I started to look at myself through a more positive lens. Even on my harder days, when I’m struggling with competency issues or negative people, I’ve found a way to look at the lessons and the positivity in those less than ideal situations. And by doing that, I have gained self-confidence, self-worth, healthier habits, happiness, amazing friendships, and the incredible opportunity to help others find similar happiness for themselves.

@trish_keller linktr.ee/patriciakeller

The post What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey? appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2019/08/21/whats-important-lesson-youve-learned-along-journey/

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pettyicequeencee-blog · 7 years

Text

I Don’t Date Black Women

Racial preference and dating seems to be all the rage lately. I’ve come across a multitude of videos/articles explaining why Black men (especially those who are famed and wealthy) “prefer” White (or non-Black women) over Black women when it comes to dating. While I sit back, sip my Jameson (or tea if I’m at work), I cannot help but wonder WHO made not dating Black women trendy? So let’s talk about it.

Recently a Miami Dolphin football player has received a lot of backlash over a post asking why do Black men go for White women once they reach a certain level of wealth and fame. Not sure who the troll was, but he decided to give us some “insight” on why he doesn’t deal with Black women. Ready? And go!

-We’re stubborn, uneducated (because he assumes that all of us believes that things are 50/50 in a relationship)

-We all like to argue and be the boss

-We don’t take responsibilities for our actions

-We are not coachable.

Whew! Sounds like a mouthful doesn’t it?! That’s because it is. A mouthful of complete, biased, closed minded bullshit and it doesn’t stop there. I

WE ARE NOT THE SAME

I should not have to even explain to someone’s grown son that we are not the same. Just as much as men like to let women know that he is not like the last man, give us the same opportunity to display that we are not like all women, Black or not. Not every Black woman grew up in a broken home. Not every Black woman likes to argue. Not every Black woman grew up in an Urban ghetto. There are plenty of us that with degrees, businesses, careers, good credit, and common sense. Many of us come from loving families with both mom and dad present. I am not responsible for your past experiences with other women, at all.

I DIDN’T ASK YOU….

How many times as a woman/Black woman have you heard a Black man say “I don’t date Black women”? Now how many times have you actually asked that person whether or whether not he dated Black women? Let’s be real for a second, most Black women don’t and shouldn’t have to question whether another man the same Ethnicity as her would date her when engaging in a regular conversation. I have experienced the “I don’t date Black women” in a conversation not even aimed at racial dating preferences. It’s almost as if these type of Black men WANT us to ask and beg for their love and attention. They want to hurt us and make us wonder why they aren’t into us and before us women go around getting our panties in a bunch, just remember, we didn’t ask, therefore we shouldn’t care.

I’ve had my own personal experiences with dealing with Black men that seem to think that White/non-Black women are better. A while ago in college I worked at a shitty coffee spot (the one where you where green aprons) and my coworker was this Black male who apparently only dated White women, except I didn’t get the memo. I also didn’t care, but every time we worked together he made it his job to let me know that he was not into me. Funny, right? So literally every White girl that walked into the store, he’d rush over to me to tell me how “bad” or “cute” he thought she was. After the third time I became annoyed and here’s why. I DIDN’T ASK YOU. White woman or not, I do not care to hear about your sexual interests in other women, because I am not sexually interested. I never understood why men love to compare women to other women. I find it quite annoying. If I were to constantly talk about my sexual interests in a man to another man, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hear it. Anyway, I finally told him that I didn’t care so why is he going out of his way to make me see how attracted he is to a White woman.

So when I asked him what’s his deal I guess he thought it was story time. This opened up the platform for him to explain why he only dates White women. Black women that he has approached aren’t attracted to him. (Grabs tissues) He claimed that his ex, who is Black, had set him up to be robbed. (Sheds tears) Then, he proceeds to say, that he actually found me attractive. (Plays world’s smallest violin) I had to stop him right the fuck there. I had zero sympathy for this dude. How dare you purposely try to insult my character, my beauty, and my mental by belittling me as a Black woman, only to turn around and hit me with some weak ass sob story of your ex and then proceed to “flirt” with me. N*gga, you sound bitter.

BITTER N*GGA SYNDROME IS REAL

What is Bitter N*gga Syndrome? And who does it affect? Bitter N*gga Syndrome is a mental disability which distorts and clouds the mind of the Black male with the illusion that any negative experiences that they have had that has involved a Black woman is a right of passage to display White supremacy tactics and belittle all Black women. Those that suffer Bitter Nigga Syndrome often display signs of suppressed self hatred, self loathe, and idolization of Western/European culture while depreciating their own culture and women within their culture because they [may or may not] have been severely damaged mentally and emotionally and are unable to cope with the aftermath their experience.

Now, I’m no doctor, but I hope that one day my diagnoses can one day help those who suffer from this mental illness because this ish is too real to go untreated. We all have been hurt before. Let’s face it, Black women have experienced more trauma in relationships than men and any other race of women. This is not to say that men do not face hurt in relationships, or that White women have never been lied to or cheated on, but the treatment of Black women by Black men has not been a cake walk.

I will not deny that there are some great Black men out there, however, I have dealt with some that really…… ain’t shit and I could be bitter about that. I’ve been lied to, cheated on, placed on the back burner, used, and dealt with men that put zero effort into. Needless to say, anytime a woman has a bad experience with men it is always labeled as the woman’s fault. We should choose our men more wisely. It is our fault that he lied and gave us false hope. It is our fault that it takes two to produce a child. Ironically, the same misogynistic mindset of taking ownership and responsibility over one’s life choices never seems to apply to men. Anytime we voice a concern about (Black) men, we are angry, loud, disrespectful, or bitter. However, a Black man will not take ownership of the part that he has played in a past failed relationship. It is always the Black woman’s fault.

DEAR BLACK MEN, YOU ARE NOT SQUEAKY CLEAN

Black men who don’t date Black women often give off this montage as if they are squeaky clean, and sorry fellas we all have assholes and your shit is capable of stinking. Stop it. Stop pretending that you have never hurt anyone in your precious White washed life of yours. Plenty of you have lied, cheated, fathered kids out of wedlock, have no degree, grew up without a father figure, and don’t understand the importance of respect and communication within a relationship. None of us are perfect and a man’s pride often gets in the way of a relationship’s potential to grow. A woman is your equal. Period. We can be submissive while still thinking for ourselves. We are not here to stroke your ego to the point that it shames us.

I read a few articles on Blackwomenareeasy.com and I couldn’t help but to think, who is this douchebag of a man writing these articles. Why is it that there is always a man feeding us his misogyny and trying to tell women how they should act in relationships and in society? Why is it that men have a hard time fact checking other men when they fuck up in a relationship or on how they treat women, but they are quick to let a woman know what she is doing wrong? Yes, I do believe that as HUMAN BEINGS, we are responsible for our own happiness and what we allow in our lives, however, let’s not down play the role of a man in failed relationships. I get sick and tired of the finger pointing in both directions. All men and women are capable of doing fuck-shit things, period, but I refuse to not acknowledge the fact that society has the mindset that “boys will be boys”. No. No. No. No. Hold men accountable for what they do.

THE APPROPRIATION OF THE BLACK FEMALE

So you mean to tell me that if I wear my hair in dredlocks or in it’s natural state that it’s unprofessional and that my hair is nappy, but a White model at fashion week can wear faux locs and it’s now fashionable. The Kartrashians can wear braids and it is now trendy, meanwhile I’ve been wearing cornrows for years and will face scrutiny at a job because my hairstyle is deemed too ethnic. Some 13 year old wanna be hoodrat can tell you to “cash me outside, how bout dat” and she is instantly famed for being violent and ratchet, but only because she is White.

This right here folks is appropriation in it’s finest form and we as Black women can’t speak out against it or we’re being angry. I am constantly being compared to White women. I am constantly being told that my hair, skin, dialect, and culture is inappropriate, meanwhile the White woman mocking my culture is accepted and even given credit for something my ancestors have been doing for ages. This sends us the perfect message. That it’s not what you do, it’s who’s doing it that makes is acceptable or not. What upsets me even more is that Black men support cultural appropriation. You don’t want a Black woman, yet you will settle for a White/non-Black woman who appropriates Black culture.

WE DON’T WANT TO DATE YOU SO NEITHER CAN WHITE MEN

Stop it. You’re being messy and it’s unattractive. My father has 6 kids by 5 different women. He had the nerve to tell 15 year old me that he is done dating Black women because they don’t listen and do what he says. Here he was, a Black man that is supposed to be showing me what it feels to be loved and treated by Black men, and he had failed me completely. He was the same Black man that has told me not to date White men. He was the same Black man that always spoke ill of the mother’s of his children. He was the same Black man that did the bare minimum when it came to financially helping his children. He was the same Black man that missed birthdays, graduations, and more. He is the same Black man that is pro-Black/hotep but lacks respect for his own Black women.

Men like my father often think that because they won’t date you then that means that a man of another ethnicity cannot, and again that’s that Bitter N*gga Syndrome kicking in. The hoteps came flying in when they found out Serena Williams was engaged to a White man. She was every name in the book from sellout to bitch, and you wonder why she went the route that she did and did it silently. She didn’t have to tell us why she chose to be with a man that was not only White, but who also loved her. Some of you Black men fail to realize that we too get tired of the same ole shit with you. I love my Black men, I truly do, but do not be fooled. Black women do not owe themselves unto you. If you cannot appreciate us, please believe that there are plenty of men out there that can and will.

#blacklove blackwomen blackmen relationships blacklivesmatter idontdateblackwomen melanin interracial

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cynthiadshaw · 5 years

Text

What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey?

Dawn Treader | a nonprofit who is raising awareness to defend and protect the rights of widows and orphans through the exploration of local artist, live music, and some dang good coffee

Mikaylah McGee

dawntreadertx.com @dawntreadertx @dawntreadertx

Ria Hartfield and my business is Locs By Ria

@locsbyria

Loviatar’s | Vintage Event Rentals & Interior Curation

Photo Credit: @laurenapelphoto HMU: @sydneyannlopezhair

loviatars.com @loviatars

Letty Stewart | Lash Artist & Esthetician

linktr.ee/letty.peachykeenstudio

Joshua Harris | Professional athlete | Fitness consultant

Lynne Jones

thepeakwork.com

Kiesha Hick | Entrepreneur, Eye Candi Bar

@thelavishluxe

@eyecandibar @eyecandibar

TK Kader | Author of the international best seller “How to Punch the Sunday Jitters in the Face”, Entrepreneur and Angel Investor

You can accomplish anything you want in life and become unstoppable as long as you practice belief x discipline.

@tkkader

Alexandra Goodman | designer

etsy.com/shop/agoodmandesigner @agoodmandesigner

Acenette Gonzalez and Justin Ramirez | Owners of Maravilla Cacao Confections

@maravillacacao [email protected]

Elena Jones | Mom | Wife | Entrepreneur

@katiemeckleyphotography

@latinamomintheheartoftexas @latinamomintexas

Magnolia Elvis | music producer & recording engineer

@Dj_ron_t

You have to always be prepared to work; even on your off days.

VibeLabDallas.com ShoutOutMagnolia.com

Addie Roberts | Registered Dietitian and Nutrition Coach

generalwellnessnutrition.com @generalwellness youtube.com/generalwellness

Kelly Harrod | Body Liberation/Self Love Advocate

@the_self_love_squad @selflovesquadig

ChristFit Unashamed

Community is so important to growth of person physically, mentally, and Faith.

linktr.ee/christfitunashamed

Ashton Lewis | Actor

@actionlewis backstage.com/u/ashton-lewis

Tre’Quwandous Love | Aspiring model Natural Hair Enthusiast and Hospitality expert

@shotbyadrw [email protected]

You have to move in life knowing that the things you are seeking are also seeking you and will find you in the most divine fashion.

@trelovetrelove @TreCLove

Diana Pàez | social communicator and journalist | Founder and CEO of Let`s go By Diana Paez

@letsgo.by.dianapaez letsgobydianapaez.com

Lizz Hurley | Visual Artist

The most important lesson I’ve learned so far is that sales don’t determine talent. Sales will come, focus on perfecting your craft.

lizzhurleyart.com @lizzhurleyart

Jacqueline | Empowerment Executive & Life Coach

@jacquelineisms podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/permission-granted-the-jacqueline-show/ id1475436982?ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Blakk Juu | Hot New Rap Artist from keepit1hundredint

@blakk.juu @usagainsthem @blakkjuu keepit1hundredint.com @BlakkJuu soundcloud.com/keepit1hundredint

Brittany Smalls | personal blogger

@filmmaker_j

@_sincerelynotyours

Maria Cruz | Paper florista

@kittyboo_

@katys_flower_wall

Mosiah Perales | Goalkeeper | Goalkeeper coach and Instagram influencer

@fuerzagkeeping

Justin Stringfellow | DJ/MC

@justin.thedj mixcloud.com/JustinTheDJ

Astrid Garces | Branding Creator

Josben Rodriguez

@astrid_garces

Zach Rigsby | Fashion blogger & Design student

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my life is to never let anyone else’s judgment or negativity drive what I do or wear but instead to let criticism inspire me to become better.

@zach.rigsby

Bondie Metchore | Digital Marketing Consultant | Web Designer & Social Media Strategist

bondiemetchore.com @girldesigningdreams

Jonah Levine | Co-founder & Designer

The most important lesson I’ve learned is perseverance. The idea or the accumulation of ideas has in time been a bit of a struggle, but we put our heads down and figure out what needs to be done.

At L’Escalier we hope to bring the idea, the thought that while things may be difficult, perseverance can prove to be true.

shoplescalier.com @shoplescalier

Kyler & Kaelyn Silas (Ky & Kae) | Recording Artists/Musicians

@officialkyandkae youtube.com/channel/UCITNM6MLuu2CODIHATCuvQA bequestmusic.com

Zeke Jeremiah | Director, CEO/Founder of UTubeSensations and UTubeSensations Kids

@campbell.zeke @UTubesensations @UTubeSensations-Kids @Forever-and-a-Day @zekejeremiah @utubesensations @utubesensations_kids

Trish Keller | Virtual Health & Fitness coach

@trish_keller linktr.ee/patriciakeller

The post What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey? appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2019/08/21/whats-important-lesson-youve-learned-along-journey/

0 notes