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wakandascrystal · 6 years

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Imagine this….Part 2

“…so if I fuck some guy here……..you won’t care?”

He flexed his jaw and his eyes flinched. You could see it would obliviously bother him but he swayed his head signaling a no.

“Its your pussy mah do what you have to do.“

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

“You should have fucked somebody at that damn club...maybe a white boy with red hair just to rub it in. If Malik tried that shit with me it would have been over.“ Tinah said boldly

“You mean your relationship?” You asked softly.

Your hoarse voice clearly giving away how much crying you had done the night before.

“Nah I mean his life.” Usually, you would have laughed at a funny remark like that but not today all you could put together ways a weak smile and a deep sigh.

In dead silence, Tinah and yourself laid in your warm bed watching reruns of Insecure. As you both sluggishly took popcorn from the bag you witnessed how Lawrence was trying to handle Issa cheating on him. The awkward moments, the silent conversations, the friends picking sides just the whole mess.

You were Lawrence! Maybe not totally Lawrence but you related to him a bit.

You didn't want to put the friend group you and Erik had in a position where they had to pick and choose. This was between you and him. Surely he thought the same right?

And that's why you slipped out of bed made your way to the bathroom and called him. Your hands were sweaty and your heart beating craze, even more then the time Erik was randomly being searched for drugs by some Cops. You remember telling him in a whisper to give you anything he had on him because if he got arrested he would lose his Scholarship, his job, life. Basically everything.

You washed your face with cold water and made the phone call.

Ring... Ring. . . Ring. . . The person you are trying to reach isn't accepting calls at this time.

“Come on Erik don’t do this to me”

You said under your breath. You tried again another 5 times and he still didn't pick up. You couldn't make any more excuses for him. You knew how organized that man was. His phone was always charged and on him. He damn near owned 3 power banks to your knowledge. This was the first time he had left you on voicemail and you were not pleased.

A notification popped up. The split second of hope that maybe he was getting back to you died.

@ErikKillmonger66 just posted.

You clicked on it to find the shook of your life. The sweet picture he took of you at the museum he had taken you to a couple of weeks back, where your highlighter and hair looked bomb had been deleted. Now replaced with a picture of some girl with neon green on his lap.

That’s when you knew he was really trying you. It was really over now. Him putting that picture up meant to you and the thousands of followers he had that you were no longer his girl.

No longer Erik’s Girl.

Anger surged through your veins. Storming into your room Tinah was half asleep.

“TINAH!“ You normal voice was slowly coming back to you.

“What in the hell is going on.” You held the picture to her face and watched how her expression changed.

“Is this Erik ?...with...with Cassie“

“Who the fuck is Cassie ??“ You were sure the people up and down stairs could hear you but you really didn't care

“Look..... don’t worry about her, she steals everybody's man. Who you need to worry about is Erik and his head-ass.“ All you wanted to do was to rip that Shrek looking wig of her head hoping its glued down so her edges would be fucked up too.

“I hate him. I hate him so much. After everything Tinah! Everything....I've been loyal to him. AHH ........fuck what if he's been fooling around with other girls since the beginning and I didn't know. I must have been some stupid idiot to him...I was a just good pussy that had a place to crash and free food.“ You paced up and down your room. You didn't know if Tinah was even listening to you but you didn't mind, you just needed to vent.

Tinah made a face as she secretly scrolling through your DM’s

“umm, good pussy?? ...your pussy fucken fantastic bitch. Don’t downplay yourself like that.“ Tinah’s attempt to gassing you up was slowly working.

“Your ass is in MIT with no kids and no ex’s that would start shit with him. You beautiful. You play fucking sports and cook like a certified chef and he acts like that. CUT! HIM! OFF! (Y/N)“

Even thought Tinah tried to get you to leave him for 7 days now, deep down she knew you wouldn't. You seriously loved Erik. She saw the way you looked at him and how you touched him in public. Griping on his thick bicep, hugging his waist or placing your hand on his thigh when he drove you around, just little sweet physically reminders that told him you were there for him.

Tinah noticed how you would go out of your way to make him happy. She didn't think it was unhealthy at all. Erik had never asked for anything drastic or selfish and you would never do anything you were not comfortable with. Tinah deeply appreciated that equilibrium. So much so that she would compare her relationship with Malik to your own relationship with Erik. She would never admit it to anyone but she really didn't have any positive relationships to look up to growing up. It was either Mr. and Mrs. Huxtable or Beyonce and Jay Z.

But now it was you. If she was having problems with Malik. She would think

“What would Erik and (Y/N) do? ”

“How would Erik and (Y/N) solve this? “

“How would Erik and (Y/N) go forward from here? “

The whole situation obviously didn’t hurt her as much as it did to you but she felt some type of way about it.

“.....You know what? You right...”

She looked up at you still in your oversize pajama top, hair all over the place.

“What?“

“You are absolutely right. I should get over his ass. I put some much time, love and effort into him and look at me.....“

“ so what’s about happen now...“ Tinah asked carefully

“Am about to get in the shower while you make me a tinder profile and find me, good-looking men, to mess with....“

Tinah erupted in laughter.

“Yes. yes, Bitch... am here for you. This is why am here....Get your sticking ass you there and clean up while I look for some Nubian dick.“

“Hey. Ill take Colonizer dick too!“ you shouted back to her, scrubs, oils and towel in hand as you head to the bathroom.

Water cascaded down your form. Fulling up the room with steam. You were nervous but you didn't want it to show. You were a little confused as to why you felt guilty. You hadn't even done anything yet and you felt bad until you had the flashback to Erik looking down at you, face filled with tears and he did nothing but disown you. That’s when your fire reignited again and hell...it didn't help that Tinah was blasting Beyonce’s Sorry from your laptop.

It was about 7:45 PM and you noticed Tinah was getting ready with you.

“T, where is your ass going? You cant go thoting with me.....You still have a man.“

She helped you clip in your wig and iron it down.

“Please... Malik knows I won't do anything crazy.He worries but he doesn't care.“

“Well, it's either your a changed women or he doesn't know about your past...“

“listen to me (Y/N) there is something called Trust okay...It's something I want but doesn’t give out“ You laughed, Fully this time. A genuine laugh that tickled your tummy.

“You mean head??“ Clapped her hands.

“....I suck my man's dick for my-“ You quickly covers her mouth with your hand but careful not to mess up her stunning makeup.

“No!!“

You enjoyed this atmosphere. Just you and your friend having a laugh. The smell of hairspray and perfume. Getting ready to slay with Beyonce playing in the background, what more could you have wanted. For a brief moment, you forgot about the whole Erik mess and just watching Tinah happily picking out an outfit from your closet and trying on your clothes.

After 2 hours you finally ready to leave. Tinah had found 17 guys who were ready to meet you. You knew 5 from school, 3 were Erik’s friends and the rest were good-looking strangers.

“I like this one.“ you pointed at the profile of some guy from school who took some classes with you and Erik. You had hit the jackpot. You going to make Erik eat his words.

Making your way to the front entrance of dorm building you see the UBER Tinah had called for but right next to it parked the Jeep you knew too well. Erik was leaning on his black Jeep with his phone in hand. You froze and both Erik and Tinah looked at you. She followed your eyes and saw Erik walking towards you.

“Where you going dressed like that. Does Malik know you here.“ You knew he shouldn't have said that.

“Nigga keep my man's name out you dirty mouth...You hear me?!“ She pulled you towards the UBER while she warned him.

“Look I don’t wanna fight with you... I need to talk to (Y/N)“

“No, what you NEED to do is take your little as car and go to your Quinceañeras bitch and leave (Y/N) alone “

during the back and fourth Tinah and Erik were having you noticed how tired he looked. Red eyes and how messy his dreads were. All you wanted to do was to run and hold him. Place his head in the croak on your neck but he hurt you. He didn't have that privilege anymore.

Tinah had pulled you to the UBER but your feet stopped walking when you heard him say the words you had been imagining him saying all week.

“Baby am sorry.“

It was like a tug or war and you were the rope. Tinah physically pulling you to one side and Erik pulling you with his words.

“Why should I believe you? You insulted me Erik and left me hanging. Am sorry baby is noting going to cut it! “

“You right ...I messed up ...big time. Am just dealing with some issues I -“ You cut him off

“Issues?! You had me out there looking like a fucking fool because you had issues?? Nigga, I have issues too. Big ones but you don’t see me playing around with what we have.....what we had... You clowned me and that’s okay. I fell for it just like all the hoes you been with.‘‘

You could see that angered him.

“You know that's not true. You not like them hoes.“

“Is that why you couldn’t pick up my calls this morning?”

“Bicth you called him...For what?” You ignored her question waiting to see what would respond with.

“Let’s forget about this confused Nigga and go!“ Tinah stated pulling you to the UBER again

“Okay ama say it -“ You paused and turned again to face him

”- I love you. I don't like you..... or I don't kinder feel you, Nah. Not all of that. I absolutely love you and am scared as shit ...that I will lose you just like I did my dad..my mama. I figured if you hated me and you didn't want anything to do with me It would be easier to part ways. I rather have a heartbreak now then later. I won't lie..... I stayed cause you were a good fuck but then you started talking. Making me food and shit. Taking me on cute little-unplanned dates like I was 14 or something. No one in my life has ever given a shit about me the way you did. I mean ...no one! I didn't even know how to receive that kind of treatment.....All I kept thinking was shes just doing this for something in return, that’s how the world works right. Give and take. nah not you. You didn't even tell people we were smashing...that shit blew me away. You helped me figure out a lot of things about myself without judging or looking down at me. If I told a bitch why I got these scars they would....they would run and never look back but you believed me when I said that lifestyle was over and that am here to start afresh...That shit I said at the club was bullshit and am sorry that I hurt you...I don’t wanna to hurt. You're my princess..... why the fuck I wanna see you cry. That shit al almost killed me. I also have to say sorry you to Tinah. Am sure I put you in a weird position with Malik being my Boy and all. Thank you for being by her side.”

Erik’s apology was so deep and sweet even the UBER driver had been sitting and listing from his car.

“I know I messed up but please just give me one more time ....the both of you. Baby (Y/N) I’ll be a better boyfriend, Tinah I’ll be a better friend. Y’all can think about it.“

What would you do ???.

tag list:

@theunsweetenedtruth @myboyfriendgiriboy @sweetsexysavagery @ @lewatigress @thebeautysurrounds

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @drsunshine97 @amyhennessyhouse

@forbeautyforlife @imaginewhoever @james-heaven-barnes @halfrican-heat

#erik x reader #Erik Killmonger #Erik Stevens #Erik killmonger x Reader #black panther #mbaku #tchalla #okoye #mit

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biguns60plus · 3 years

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Unbelievable..

DOGG & PHONY SHOW!!

By Phil Mushnick January 29, 2022

Keepin’ it real. Let’s do it together.

Last Saturday, during CBS’s telecast of the Titans-Bengals playoff game, a commercial for Corona beer aired, starring Snoop Dogg, who, despite countless arrests for guns and drugs, has become a must-have to endorse products.

So what if he luridly degrades women as one of his stocks in trade if he can sell beer?

The night before that ad ran, NYPD officer Jason Rivera, 22, was shot dead with an assault rifle while responding to a domestic violence call in East Harlem. His partner, Wilbert Mora, 27, died from his wounds four days later.

And as I watched that Corona ad, I got to thinking about Snoop Dogg’s violently anti-police, pro-crime vile and vulgar “artistry,” mindful that Roger Goodell appointed and anointed Snoop Dogg the headliner at this year’s Super Bowl halftime.

Perhaps Goodell, also in the interest of keeping it real, would like to rap along with a “song” by Snoop and J5 Slap entitled, “Police.” Ready, Roger? It reads thusly:

“All you niggas out there,

Take your guns that you using to shoot each other

And start shooting these bitchass

mother-fucking police.

That’ll impress a mother-fucking nigga like me.”

But Snoop’s Super Bowl selection doesn’t just meet with the approval of the NFL and “It’s All About Our Fans” Goodell. The halftime show and Snoop’s appearance is sponsored with the full, proud commercial and financial support of Pepsi, which seems eager to become the soft drink of hardcore.

Back to that charming, ahem, song. Ready Team Pepsi? It’s Karaoke Night! Here we go:

“Dipping through the city with a Glock in a Range Rove

If you sleeping probably not with the same hoe

Rock the same clothes rich niggas do

And rock by the same code till I’m a rich nigga too

I be in the club with the stick in my shoe

You call the fucking police like a bitch nigga do.”

Five NYPD officers have been shot in the first 20 days of this year. And the fellow chosen by the NFL and approved by Goodell to star in this year’s halftime produces, records, sells and profits from “artistry” advocating streets filled with the blood of cops and threats against those who would help solve the shootings of cops and civilians.

More? We’ll give this part to NBC’s NFL pregame panelist, Jac Collinsworth. Sunday, after NBC presented a Super Bowl halftime promo narrated by Snoop Dogg, he said, “That was our friend, Snoop.”

Is that right? He’s our friend? Come on up to the mic, Jac. Now, in the name of keepin’ it real, pick it up with this, the refrain from “our friend’s” charming ditty (with Master P), “Snitches”:

“Snitches snitches snitches

Niggas be running they mouth just like bitches …

Snitches snitches snitches

I got a slug for ya’ll mother-fucking snitches.”

Hey, Corona beer marketing department, your turn. Ready? Snoop Dogg has a video in which he sings a cover version of NWA’s “Fuck the police” while holding his crotch in a courtroom. It’s an easy one. Just repeat after Snoop:

“Fuck the po-lice! Fuck the po-lice!”

I invite — dare, challenge — everyone — Goodell, the NFLPA, NFL team owners, the executive board at Pepsi and Corona, NBC Sports, young Collinsworth — to demonstrate the courage of their convictions to join with Snoop Dogg in any of his dozens of similarly depraved enterprises presented as entertainment.

And now, just for added kicks, look up the lurid lyrics of two other Goodell-certified entertainers who will perform at this Super Bowl halftime, Eminem (“Just Don’t Give A Fuck”) and crotch-grabbing Kendrick (“Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe”) Lamar.

This is what Roger Goodell thinks NFL audiences, of all ages, are worth on a Super Bowl Sunday. These acts are far beneath him as he has already admitted that he can’t repeat what Snoop Dogg raps. But he feels as if Snoop Dogg is perfect for you and yours — and professional football.

And it’s not as if previous Super Bowl halftime shows under Goodell’s classy, dignified guidance haven’t caused those who know right from wrong to ask why they’ve been dismissed as unworthy, disinvited as out of step with marching that points all of us backwards.

Why, under Goodell, have halftime shows been diving lower and lower? And why has he allowed such uncivil performers to be attached to a championship ball game?

Meanwhile, the classic “To Kill a Mockingbird,” has been removed from a Washington State school’s required reading list because it contains racial slurs.

And Goodell, the shameless $63 million per pandering phony, slaps “Stop Hate” and “End Racism” along the backs of end zones and players’ helmets, then invites Snoop Dogg to be the star of the Super Bowl.

Maybe Snoop will be granted a police escort to the stadium. For his safety, of course.

Officer Rivera was 22. Officer Mora was 27. Just keepin’ it real.

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womenofcolor15 · 4 years

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Meg Thee Stallion SLAMS False Reports That Said Tory Lanez’s Charges Were Dropped – ‘B*TCH You Going To Jail!’

Megan Thee Stallion goes OFF after false reports that said she dropped the charges brought against Tory Lanez for allegedly shooting her started circulating. Peep Meg AND Tory’s reactions inside…

Sis is TIREDT!

Megan Thee Stallion hopped on Twitter yesterday to clear up rumors that started circulating about the criminal case against singer Tory Lanez.

Apparently, a certain publication looked up information about Tory’s court hearing and when they saw “No information found” under the case, they automatically assumed MEGAN DROPPED the felony gun charges against Tory.

But here’s the thing…

The “WAP” rapper never pressed charges against the Canadian artist. The Los Angeles County District Attorney's Office pressed charges against Tory, which include one felony count of assault with a semiautomatic firearm and one count of carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle. So, she couldn't have dropped the charges brought up against him.

New York Times reporter Joe Coscarelli spoke to a rep for Tory who confirmed the rumors are false:

a rep for Tory Lanez says it is NOT TRUE that charges against him in the Megan Thee Stallion shooting were dropped: “The blog that posted this info is wrong. I assume the docket hasn't been updated ... The next hearing date is in mid-February.”

— Joe Coscarelli (@joecoscarelli) January 21, 2021

”A rep for Tory Lanez says it is NOT TRUE that charges against him in the Megan Thee Stallion shooting were dropped: ‘The blog that posted this info is wrong. I assume the docket hasn't been updated ... The next hearing date is in mid-February.’"

A rep from the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office told Complex the next court date is set for February 25th, following the originally scheduled hearing date of January 20th. But it didn't matter, because those who were already dead set on believing Tory did nothing and Megan is lying about being shot by him (apparently they think the blood leaking from her feet on the police video we all saw was.....fake too?), took the lie and ran with it.

The “Body” rapper caught wind of the rumors about the case and decided to respond. She SLAMMED people for making light of the trauma she went through after she was allegedly shot in the feet by Tory.

"AT THIS POINT IM GETTING ANNOYED!" she began in a series of tweets. "STOP BELIEVING EVERYTHING YOU READ ON THE MF INTERNET. Imagine how I feel waking every day seeing people LIE and turn my trauma into a joke ? That whole team figures out ways to create doubt with my story every week and the media eats it up."

Meg said the inauguration caused the hearing to get pushed back. And she popped off on Tory, reminding him he’s going to JAIL.

“Y’all can’t tell when shit fake news? Y’all still don’t see an ABUSER picking with me ? The first court date got pushed back bc of the inauguration but I can’t wait until the MF FACTS come out ! B*tch you shot me AND MY STORY NOT CHANGING AND B*TCH YOU GOING TO JAIL,” she tweeted.

Sheesh!

Meg also went off on everyone who thinks she’s lying:

”How tf I get shot now I’m the worlds biggest mf villain !? All y’all pussy ass niggas and pick me ass hoes GONE EAT YO MF WORDS,” she tweeted.

A fan asked the Houston Hottie why she kept bringing up the Tory Lanez situation and she responded:

”are you living under a rock ?! You think I brought this up today ?! AND IF I WANNA KEEP TALKING ABT ME GETTING SHOT I CAN TF ?”

”Y’all so believe black women and protect black women online BUT WHEN I LITERALLY SAY I GOT SHOT ITS CONFUSING,” she continued tweeting. “Trauma is real I’m still traumatized from loosing my mom dad and one of my grandmothers and on top of that being shot. I’m not open abt anything on the internet usually bc I like to keep my emotions private but I’m reaching my limit, Im going to keep staying positive.”

Peep her tweets, plus Tory’s “positive” tweet he posted yesterday below:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by TheYBF (@theybf_daily)

”I will continue my 2021 unproblematically.. just wanna make great content for my fans much love y’all,” he tweeted. Oh.

In October, Tory Lanez (real name Daystar Peterson) was charged with one felony count of assault with a semiautomatic firearm and one count of carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle. He also faces an additional gun charge and that he personally inflicted great bodily injury. A judge ordered him to stay at least 100 yards away from Meg and told him he can not make any contact with her as well.

In November, he pleaded NOT guilty to all of the charges. He also released his DAYSTAR album where he made claims that he didn't shoot Meg. If he’s convicted, he faces a possible maximum sentence of 22 years and 8 months in prison.

The felony charges stem from a shooting incident that went down back in July after Meg & Tory were partying with Kylie Jenner. The “Savage” raptress revealed in an IG Live Tory shot her in both her feet as she exited the car they were traveling in. Afterwards, she had to undergo surgery for her injuries. Meg also accused Tory and his camp of a smear campagin where they allegedly created fake emails posing as her team to feed FALSE information to the media. SMH.

There were two other people in the vehicle during the shooting incident: Tory’s security guard and Meg’s former best friend, Kelsey Nicole. Meg and Kelsey had a falling out after the shooting incident and are no longer friends. It’s unclear what exactly happened between them, but it had something to do about the details surrounding the shooting incident. It's clear Kelsey longer deals with Megan. Kelsey has posted several videos of herself hanging out with 1501 Certified Entertainment CEO Carl Crawford. As you know, Meg sued her label in March 2020 to be let out of her contract. She has also posted shady comments about Meg on social media.

With everything she has going on, Meg isn't letting the 2020 drama take over 2021. She's busy in Hot Girl Boot Camp to get her body even more snatched:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Hot Girl Meg (@theestallion)

Hot Girl Summer will be here before you know it!

Photo: Meg's IG

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2021/01/22/meg-thee-stallion-slams-false-reports-that-said-tory-lanez%E2%80%99s-charges-were-dropped-%E2%80%93-%E2%80%98btch

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gooffthen · 5 years

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kids

let’s talk about them. they’re bad as hell. well, my neighbors’ kids are. these little dominican kids are SO unruly! i just can't believe it.

my neighbors moved onto the street about 2 years ago. things were real peaceful at first. they came and introduced themselves and brought us some food from their little bbq. that was cute. but me being the pessimistic mf i am, i answered the door a lil stank but more so surprised, but i appreciated it bc a girl can eat.

things were cool at first, then suddenly things start to go left. as a college student, when you come back home for summer break, you trynna be home and chill. sleep in, wake up and so on. peacefully. or at least not dumb early by the islands sounds of reggaeton and bachata. not that early. niggas would have they bluetooth connected to the car stereo and blast that shit!!

i am not a morning person to say the least, so you can imagine this being the bane of my existence especially sleeping in the room closest to their driveway. but you know this was last summer and when it ended, i was ready TA GO!

during the winter months, coming home, it wasn't bad bc its cold and the kids can't come outside but the seasons are always bound to change (barely tho bc global warming). but as this summer approached i wondered, what would it bring.

now i had prepared myself for the loud music, hoping that would be my only feat. oh. how i was sadly mistaken. this summer was the kids’.

i don't necessarily LOVE kids but they're cute and entertaining. i have a lot of cousins so i know how to deal with them. but i’d meet a new boss. Miss. Shyla.

this little girl is actually so cute! and if she wasn't so f*cking bad, me and her could get along, but she be all over our lawn, front and back. running, dropping shit, taking shit and causing havoc. you tell her not to do something and she says “no!”.

i wasn't sure how to deal with this initially bc if a kid were to tell me no, they were probably a cousin and i could reprimand them if needed. but this wasn't my child nor my kin so i was stuck... not to mention she wasn't the only one.

her older brother David is like 7 or 8 and she’s 3-4. then they have they're cousins living with them who are literal toddlers, diapers and all. four kids. f o u r k i d s.

the thing is i understand kids will be kids and they wanna have fun and blah-blah-blah. if they were just running in the backyard... hmm ok. i’ll accept it, but thats not the case. they are throwing over plants, coming on the porch, TAKING SHIT, and leaving they garbage and toys all over the place. now you maybe saying “Annette, why don't you just tell them to stop or tell their parents?” the grandparents who be outside don't even have the energy to be running after them and don't speak any ingles but they be getting them when one of my family members or i come out. the parents be MIA most of the time, i see the mom and dad every now and then but not while the culprits are in action! lets also mention how today i saw the older one PISSING in my backyard!!! i had to AHTAHT him. chilllleeeeeeee.

the reason this issue gets me pressed is 1)they took my helmet [it was chilling on the back porch and all of a sudden disappeared & YES I'm tight about that shit]. 2) they shouldn't be on our yard. period. 3) they, as in all four, be RUNNING and SLIDING up the door of our cellar [its at a slant, imagine a right triangle, now who paying the bill if it cave in??]. 4) destruction of property and LASTLY the most important to me, as a Black woman, i truly feel, if the tables were switched and my kids were all up on their lawn, raising hell and disrupting shit, niggas would have BEEN had a fit. its not a secret that there’s plenty of anti-black sentiment amongst the Latinx community, here and back home. but since we’re black i feel like they think its okay to not discipline their kids and teach them to RESPECT other people’s property. growing up BLACK and AFRICAN, that wasn't a choice. to be running ON other peoples’ lawns and fucking shit up in the process was a guaranteed certified a** whooping! PERIODT. if the tables were reversed i don't feel the same grace or amnesty would be granted! i KNOW this. them knocking down my grandmothers’ plant TWICE and pissing on the lawn inspired this long ass post. if you made it this far, you're a G and reading isn't dead, yet. overall, if i catch they asses again, imma have to find their dad, who speaks my language and is gonna understand these Jersey and African cussing out I'm finna give ‘em. i already spoke to one of the relatives but he needs to hear my complaints! it sucks bc he helped a bitch shovel last winter, but that don't mean imma sit here and watch ya kids cause havoc on my (my mother’s) shit.

PERIOD!

-a.f.

#kids neighbors millennial

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jewelofwakanda · 6 years

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French Inhale 0.1

OKAY. This took me way longer than it should’ve. But, I’m finally content with what I was able to get down. Now that FI is a series, I really felt like I needed to get some backstory going for Zorah and Erik. If you missed that post/announcement, the face claims are here. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Words: 2,308...Zorah will always be bold italics, everyone else is bold. I will do my best to separate the dialogue (since there’s a lot of it) so that’s it’s clear. If it runs together too much, please let me know so I can work on it in the future. Also, this one is a little link heavy. Any outfit that is linked is the exact outfit mentioned, for the record. Not sure what they look like in mobile and I think I did a good enough job describing things if you want to skip them.

Black, plus-size OC x Erik “Killmonger” Stevens meet for the first time during a “transaction”. Not really sure if this fits in any category (not smutty or fluffy or angsty at all) but was very necessary IMO.

“So, you really not gon come with me? I’ll even wait for you to get off work.”, Zorah whined into her phone. Her trusty weed man had disappeared off the face of the planet (probably busted by LAPD) and she needed to cop something, like, yesterday. She asked her best friend, Naomi, for her plug’s information and assumed she would make the introduction. Zorah was sadly mistaken.

“You grown, and Demo don’t bite…unless you want him to.”, Naomi threw back, Zorah could hear her snickering under her breath.

“Oh my God, shut up! I can’t just roll up to that man’s house asking for tree. He’ll probably think I’m the feds or something.”, Zorah complained.

“I already told him you would be stopping by, sent a pic and everything. He actually sounded interested in meeting you.”

“I am not about to start dealing with a drug dealer, Naomi.”

“But, if the weed man is your man, we’ll be smoking for free for the rest of forever.”

“Then, YOU date him, Nay. I’m not interested. And, what the hell do you mean you sent him a pict—”

“Huh? Um, I gotta go girl, my supervisor just walked in. Luhyoubye.”, Naomi said in all one word, cutting her off and hanging up.

“I’m gonna kill her.”, Zorah thought to herself as she put Demo’s address in her GPS. He didn’t seem to live that far away, and Naomi told her he was occasionally willing to make deliveries. If he acted right during this transaction, she might have just found a new connect.

She pulled up to Demo’s blue and white one-story home and was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t the usual type of trap house she was used to frequenting, very unassuming if you will. The shiny, black Aston Martin and fully loaded Jeep in the driveway made her question what other drugs Demo was dealing. Weed doesn’t buy you two expensive cars, let alone an Aston.

She parallel parked on the street and slowly approached the front door, thinking twice about knocking. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was getting herself into, when the door swung open on its own.

“Oh hey, you must be Zorah.”, a tall, handsome man with smooth, caramel colored skin and long dreads greeted her, motioning her inside. She definitely saw him look her up and down, making her feel like a certified snack. ‘Damn, Nay didn’t tell me he was so fine’, Zorah thought to herself, hoping her face wasn’t a dead giveaway to her instant attraction.

“Just make yourself at home, beautiful.” he said with a charming grin, leading her to his living room, “I’m just finishing up with another customer.” He strode into his kitchen leaving her with her thoughts.

‘Make myself at home? I might move in with your fine ass.’, she said to herself as she sat down on his large, velvety couch trying to keep it cool. Zorah took a moment to take in her surroundings. Demo’s house was unexpectedly clean and comfortable. 21 Savage was playing faintly in the background from the Beats Pill+ she spotted laying on a rather impressive entertainment system. The 50” flat screen TV, various gaming consoles and probably every game known to man made it clear what he spent all his money on. She noticed the room was nicely decorated and the paint on the walls coordinated well with the soft, dark brown sectional that took up most of the living room space. ‘He must’ve had a girlfriend pick all this out for him’, she assumed.

“Nah! Fuck you Demo!” The booming voice of another man came loudly from Demo’s kitchen, snapping her from her thoughts. Even though she couldn’t really catch what they were talking about, the paranoia set in. She was alone, without back-up, in some random man’s house. She didn’t know who that other person was or if Demo had weapons. What if one of them tried something? She was usually a laid-back individual and never backed down if she needed to defend herself but being outnumbered made her nervous. She made a mental note to curse Naomi out for not coming with her. Zorah decided to get up from the couch and busy herself with a tall shelf full of pictures close to the front door. If she had to make a run for it, she was ready.

There were a lot of pictures on Demo’s shelf, mostly of family and friends. One of Demo graduating from what looked like high school surrounded by what she assumed were his parents and siblings and a little girl in his arms, she couldn’t have been more than one year old at the time and was practically his twin. She saw the same little girl throughout a lot of the portraits, most of them with her father usually wrapped in a tight embrace. She giggled at one of Demo and his little girl throwing up the ‘Westside’ symbol and scrunching their faces for the camera, attempting to look tough. She could tell he was a good, if at least involved father, and that was impressive. More than a few of them were taken at various clubs with his large group of fine ass friends. One guy in particular popped up a couple times mean mugging the camera, showing off his gold grills and bad boy sex appeal. With his short dreads either braided back or secured to the top of his head, he had impeccable style and a body to match. Zorah felt her heart beat a little faster. She was drawn to this stranger, even more then she was to Demo. She felt her body heating up, the attraction making her squeeze her thighs together.

“Damn, Demo. All your customers this thick?”, Zorah whipped around, hot with more than just embarrassment when her eyes met with his, the same man she had been ogling just a moment ago.

“Not as thick as her, nope.”, Demo replied. The two men before her were staring her down like a piece of meat. She didn’t usually take too kindly to so much lascivious attention, but she found herself at a loss for words.

The mystery man had one eyebrow cocked and a sly smirk painted across his face, looking her up and down. He made her feel naked.

“What’s ya name, ma?”, the mystery man spoke first, closing the distance between them as Demo plopped down on his couch, setting up his scale to finish the two transactions.

“Um…”, she paused feeling foolish. She was drawing a blank, unable to make the words come out of her mouth, “Zorah…it’s Zorah.”

“Hmmm...Zooraahh.”, he breathed, elongating the last syllables. She loved the way her name sounded, rolling lazily off his tongue.

“The name’s Erik, but you can call me Daddy.”, he responded, flashing his gold fangs and extending his hand. She furrowed her brows and shoved her hands in her army fatigue jacket pockets. Was this nigga for real? They literally just exchanged names and he was already jumping to dirty talk?

“Niggaaa! You really ain got no chill, do you? You need to quit before you scare her away.”, Demo laughed out loud at Erik’s boldness.

“You know me, D. I get’s straight to business. So, Zo, you gon give me your number or what?” She was speechless. If any other dude would’ve stepped to her so disrespectfully, she would’ve drop kicked him in the throat and given him her ass to kiss. She decided to take the high road and ignore him. She snorted in his face and turned her attention to Demo.

“So, I need a quarter. How much do I owe you?”

“I’ll do it for $20 if you smoke one with me.”, Demo answered with a flirty grin. Jesus, him too? Zorah was having the dry spell of all dry spells; she’d spent the last eight-ish months practicing celibacy...a decision that had been made after six months of not getting any. Even after being set up on a few blind dates by various friends, the mediocre conversations with less than notable men left Zorah exhausted and a bit jaded. Now, suddenly, Zorah had two fine ass men vying for her attention.

“Weren’t you just telling me about some freak that was supposed to come through soon?” Erik asked, trying to throw salt in Demo’s game.

“Didn’t YOU just finish telling me about the two thots you kicked outta your spot just an hour ago?”, Demo retorted.

Zorah looked back and forth between the two men, thoroughly amused and mildly irritated. She couldn’t believe they were sparring back and forth, spilling all the tea about each other, as if she would fuck around with either one of them. As fine as they both were, Zorah didn’t date drug dealers or disrespectful assholes…if she could help it.

“Look, I didn’t come here for allathis. I just want some tree. Can one of you life ruiners do that for me, please?”, she complained.

“I can do a lot for you, but sure. Whatever you say.”, Demo said reaching into a jar and pulling out a few massive buds of purp, putting them on his scale.

“Damn, girl. Why you so mean?”, Erik interjected, “You don’t like niggas or something?”, the shit eating grin on his face let her know he was playing around, but she didn’t like it.

“I don’t know you like that, sir.”

“So, that’s a no.”

“Just because I’m not interested doesn’t make me gay.”

“You wouldn’t be so icy if you weren’t. There’s nothing wrong with that, baby girl. I like eating pussy too.”, Erik replied.

Demo snorted again at his daring friend. Zorah had had just about enough of this nigga. “What? Y’all too cute to get rejected? These other hoes might be falling all over themselves to lay on their backs for you, but I ain the one. And, I know a fuck boy when I see one.”

“I do a little flirting and now I’m a fuck boy?” , Erik asked placing an offended hand on his heart, trying to appear wholesome.

“You told me to call you Daddy. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“I’m not about wasting time, ma. When I want something, I take it. Dassit.”

“First of all, you can’t take what’s not being offered. And second of all, you really not all that. If I was interested, you would know.” And with that, she stood up from the couch, dropped the $60 she expected to spend on the coffee table and headed for the door shoving the plastic sack of weed in her pocket.

She could hear Erik and Demo laughing as she stepped outside, not bothering to close the door behind her. Who the hell did he think he was, talking to her like that? Whatever she had been feeling looking at his picture, had been replaced with disgust. He was rude as fuck and she wasn’t going to stand there and let him play around with her. She barely noticed Erik jogging towards her as she slammed her car door in frustration.

“Yo! Princess! Wait up!”, he yelled to her, hoping she wouldn’t pull off.

“What do you want?”, she glared in his direction. She really didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say…so why wasn’t she pulling away?

“Demo wanted me to give you this.” It was all three of her twenty-dollar bills.

“But, I didn’t even smoke with him.”

“I know, he said it was on the house. I guess it’s his way of apologizing for my behavior. Look, Zo, I was just playing around in there, ya know, a little harmless flirting. I ain mean to make you storm out like that.”, he smiled innocently as he leaned into her car window, “Lemme make it up to you?”

She took the bills, putting them back in her wallet and thought about her next move. Part of her wanted to laugh in his face and pull off. Show him that it didn’t matter how fine he was, he couldn’t just talk to women any kind of way and get away with it, especially not her. But, she also couldn’t deny the attraction. Yes, he was clearly an asshole, but she was inexplicably drawn to him. What is it about annoying, self-absorbed players who laugh at their own jokes that she couldn’t resist?

“So, what exactly does that entail?”, she asked skeptically, hoping she wouldn’t regret opening this door she somehow knew would be a bitch to close.

Erik raised his eyebrows in surprise, probably assuming she would tell him to go to hell, “Well, I don’t wanna make you fall in love too quick.”, Erik gave her a smug grin. He obviously couldn’t resist being a smart ass, “How about we start off slow and match one? Your place, tonight?”

“Uh, cute. Try again.”, she countered as he threw his head back in laughter.

“Alright, alright, we’ll meet somewhere neutral and hotbox. Is that better, your majesty?”

“You got jokes, huh? Fine.”, Zorah conceded handing him her phone so he could enter his number. She could tell he was used to being in control. Having any and every female at his beck and call. Zorah wasn’t about to play that game with him.

“So, you gon call me later?”, he asked handing her back the smartphone.

“Maybe.”, she shrugged and pulled away from Demo’s street, leaving Erik in her dust. She eyed him from her rear-view mirror as he watched her drive away and couldn’t contain the excitement simmering in her core. Whether this was a fling or (dare she think it) the real thing, she couldn’t deny the magnetic attraction. It was electric. It was inevitable. It was trouble. And, maybe it was about time she got into some.

alrighty, y'all. dassit. again, all comments/suggestions/criticisms are welcome. I would really enjoy any input you guys have because nobody knows Erik like y'all do (lol). and keep an eye out for Part II. I’m working on it, trust me.

@iamrheaspeaks @supersizemeplz @theunsweetenedtruth @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @eriknutinthispoosy @cancerianprincess@myboyfriendgiriboy @thehomierobbstark @chaneajoyyy

wanna be tagged? just lemme know.

#french inhale #erik killmonger #erik stevens #bp fanfic #bp fandom #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fandom #erik stevens fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik x OC #erik stevens x OC #erik killmonger x OC

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ricardosousalemos · 7 years

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Jay Z: Reasonable Doubt

He was only going to make one album. So goes the story of Reasonable Doubt, anyway, a tale Jay Z has regaled us with at every opportunity since its release on a new and unproven independent label called Roc-A-Fella records. It was the album he made before the world was listening, with only a close crew of friends and associates at the late age of 26. Every contributor was paid in bags of cash, piles so mountainous nobody involved could be mistaken how they were acquired. It was the valedictory statement of a drug kingpin and the commencement of a brand, a lifetime’s worth of private thoughts discharged before the true business of empire-building could begin. Grand opening; grand closing.

Shawn Carter has always been fiercely protective of his first full-length, to the degree that it sometimes feels like it belongs more to him than to us. He keeps yanking it from streaming services, as if the album is a troubled prep-school kid. He’s thrown it a series of lavish birthday parties, celebrating its 10th anniversary with a full-concert performance in 2006 and commissioning a documentary to air only on his TIDAL streaming service for its 20th. He has curated its legacy so assiduously that Reasonable Doubt seems like the one part of his story about which he remains insecure, the piece of his legacy that might blink out if he didn’t take care of it.

Perhaps he’s never forgotten its relatively inauspicious release. “Ain’t No Nigga” was a hit, for sure, and the album was certified Gold on its release; solid, but hardly world-conquering in the dynastic era CD sales. Critics were impressed, but not overly so: Mainstream and non-hip hop publications noted it was clever at times but mostly a rehash of Scarface and gangster-movie tropes. The Source gave it 4 out of 5 mics—approving, not rapturous. The smaller but more influential world of hardcore rap intelligentsia paid attention to him, but in the shadow of Biggie and Pac, Jay felt like a lesser myth. He announced the album with a statement that he was retiring and henceforth “would only be about the business.” In some alternate universe, that might’ve been it.

In Jay’s mind at least, the album certainly marked the end of an era. At this point, by his own cold-eyed accounting on the song “Politics As Usual,” he had been selling drugs for “ten years.” Along a parallel track, he had been flirting furtively with being a rapper. He linked up with Big Jaz (later Jaz-O), doing a stint as the older man's baby-faced sidekick and kicking the triplet-time “figgity-figgity”-style flows that were sweeping New York at the time. He toured, briefly, with Big Daddy Kane, and spit some freestyles for New York hip-hop radio. He was an impressive local kid, but no one’s idea of a worldwide star.

In that murky time between his puppyish Jaz-O beginnings and his sober and assured reappearance on Reasonable Doubt, he figured some things out. First, nobody wanted to hear Jay Z excited. Composed, assured, jaded, deeply unimpressed—these were emotions he could radiate without even trying, and they were truer to his nature. Gone were the endearing attempts at dancing alongside Jaz, looking like a kid at his own bar mitzvah being coaxed onto the floor. His years selling drugs had presumably hardened him, and by the time he opened his mouth on Reasonable Doubt’s opening track, “Can’t Knock the Hustle,” he had mastered an unshakable godfather pose. It is hard to convincingly telegraph “above it all” from the bottom of the food chain, but Shawn Carter had a natural haughtiness that couldn’t be faked. “You ain’t havin’ it? Good, me either/Let’s get together and make this whole world believe us,” he barked.

He also figured out how to best wield his clear, surprisingly boyish voice. The syllable chopping disappeared and his words became musical and mellifluous. Even though his voice never rose above a conversational monotone, sailed high and glittering over the music, which sampled butter-soft soul from previous decades, blurred memories of more innocent times. These were the lyrics he’s been painstakingly stacking together in his head for years, (the “no pen, no pad” detail is another famous and well-rehearsed bit of Jay mythos), and he rolled them out, one pearly string of words after another, like he was exhaling a breath he’d been holding forever.

Lines like “By the ounce, dough accumulate like snow” were their own kind of song, and he treated each syllable with a love undetectable elsewhere in his work. On “Can I Live,” he matches the “Fs” and “Ls” in the phrase “illin’ for revenues, Rayful Edmond-like” to create an irregular little mountain-peak rhythm that echoes the stuttering “expectation for dips, we stack chips” line from earlier in the same verse. He was thinking on several levels at once—how phonetics color meaning, how multiple meanings can suggest all the stories that aren’t being told. He wanted us to feel the discomfited hum of his unquiet mind, even if we couldn’t immediately follow every stray thread. What Biggie and Pac did for self-mythologizing and hip-hop, Jay undoubtedly did for the art of close reading.

The narrative that emerges from a close reading of Reasonable Doubt remains startlingly grim; seen up close, it is a masterpiece of dissociation, a graveyard of dead emotions. From the outset, Jay Z projected surface glamor: He was the first rapper to book a flight out to St. Thomas and hop on a yacht just to film a video. He was the guy who made the “Big Pimpin’ video, putting up a million dollars for the budget. But the message behind all of this flash was always clear: It was all too late for him, and the money was just cold comfort.

This is never clearer than on “D’Evils,” maybe the bleakest, saddest song ever written about the well-worn theme of the psychic toll of drug dealing. “Shit is wicked on these mean streets” could be a boast, the prelude to some exuberant Eazy-E-style tall tales, but the next line echoes in pure psychological space: “None of my friends speak, we all trying to win.” The song’s most lurid moment of violence, and maybe the most brutal scene in all the Jay discography, occurs off-camera, so to speak, only by implication: To locate a rival, Jay kidnaps the mother of his child and stuffs bills into her mouth, force-feeding her crumpled, filthy money while she weeps as he demands information. It is a gruesome scene, but Jay the writer is uninterested in the visual; he’s drawn to the contusion it leaves on her psyche and his: “Don’t cry, it is to be/In time, I take away your miseries and make it mine,” he tells her flatly. It is a chilling promise to both end her life and carry the act with him until the end of his own.

Much later in his career, further removed from the shock of his time dealing drugs, Jay would root around in the messier, more visceral stuff of his early traumas. On “This Can’t Be Life,” he opened his heart to a former girlfriend who miscarried. On “Still Got Love For You,” from Beanie Sigel’s 2001 album The Reason, he raged at his absent father, even allowing his imperial voice to crack slightly: “I’m a mess, Dad/Still I love you no less, dad/Hope you didn’t think success would make me less mad.” But at age 26, too old to be a burgeoning rap star and far too young to be as tired as he often appeared onstage, he was still in the blast radius of his former life, and all the wounds it left on him were still open. The wide-brimmed hat concealing his eyes, the white suit and fancy cigar of the album’s cover—they were expensive gauze pads, covering a ravaged body. On “Politics As Usual,” perhaps the silkiest track on the record, he is “Cursing the very god that brought this grief to be.”

This album’s legacy is both magnificent and lonely, an immaculate crystal chandelier gathering dust in an abandoned mansion. Every line gleams, begging you to memorize it but forbidding you from loving it. Its impact was subterranean, subliminal—Kendrick Lamar picked up on the notion of “D’evils of Lucy” as recently as 2015, with To Pimp a Butterfly. Other rappers picked up on his chilly, bored pose, but as his rapping was really too byzantine to convincingly imitate. It wasn’t until he slowed down his flow, breaking off glittering bits of mind that people could hold onto, that his influence penetrated and spread. Decades later, everyone flows like Jay Z, but not the Jay Z of Reasonable Doubt. That guy is still alone with his thoughts, learning to live with regrets.

Maybe this is why Shawn Carter the man seems to have such a wistful fondness for the album and the time it represented. It feels doomed in its melancholy that it will be misunderstood. “I hope you fools choose to listen, I drop jewels, bust it,” he rhymed on “Feelin’ It,” and then sneered, “Y’all don’t feel me,” a moment later. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in rhyme, the sound of a guy baring his heart and freezing it in carbonite in the same breath. “Sometimes I hear myself moaning,” he adds later, after he’s let his guard down slightly to take a small hit of weed. It’s a startling moment of depersonalization, the sound of pain whistling like wind through the cracks in a fractured psyche.

One of the only other times Jay admits to smoking weed on record came years later, on The Black Album, a lifetime’s worth of accomplishments later. “I try to smoke weed to give me the fix I need /For what the game did to my pulse with no results,” he rapped ruefully on “Allure.” The Black Album ended his most coherent, compelling, and memorable era; the hustler makes it all the way to the beloved corporate American icon and bows out on top. He had sold out Madison Square Garden, and the entire music industry knelt at his feet. Everyone felt him. But the only place he’s ever truly wanted to get back to was here.

#reviews-albums

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aqlyrics-blog · 7 years

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Never Switch

New Post has been published on http://purelyrics.net/lyrics/troy-ave-never-switch/

Never Switch

–Intro– Kept it gang gang and I didn’t switch Dope boy troy, nigga word, word

–Hook– See my mind fam get it, gettin’ rich I kept it gang gang and I didn’t switch You said I had no paper hater yeah you wish I’m never fallin’ see me ballin’ baby swish See my mind fam get it, gettin’ rich I kept it gang gang and I didn’t switch You said I had no paper hater yeah you wish I’m never fallin’ see me ballin’ baby swish

–Verse 1– On the road to riches sliding in the coupe I fucked your bitch and on the way I ain’t say oops Where I go shit always be equipped with hoops I’m a baller gaterade my favorite juice Hater-ade what you sipping on Get some money, quit the chirping for I get you gone I be whipping, I be dipping, I be in my foreign Every time I get the money back I call it scoring And you got no shots Even if you had a draco it’ll be no shot I’m a certified Billy you had no blocks I came in this game rich you had no guap Facts about me, word

–Verse 2– Don’t count on me for favors cause it’s getting boring I go from looking out for ’em to looking for ’em Keep the pans you niggas can’t even touch my hands I’m doing the MC hammer dance while I’m touching bands Only ones I’m showing love to is my fans Just because we are related that don’t make you fam I’m in the game you on the bench riding all that wood Niggas want me dead or worse broke in the hood

–Outro– Ay, all you niggas coming round me I’m starting you off on fucking 0. I used to start niggas off wit 100 but now I got no faith in them. They don’t make no sense, they always let you the fuck down. Niggas do not be 100. They don’t even be 85 I be like “Ay nigga you short, go get the rest” Mo’fuckers always looking for a handout But the new shit the way they front Be like “I ain’t looking for no handout I’m looking to work for mine whatever you got, put me on” Nigga that’s a motherfucking handout I need help nigga, matter of fact I need help helping myself You go from looking out for a nigga to now you got to look for ’em You give a nigga some shit “Yo remember that shit I gave you? “Ite cool” “You ready for me to come pick that up?” “Yeah baby come through I got that no problem” You get there nigga give you all type of story Yeah you know I had to go here and then you know I had to pay this and then you know I had a little bitch the other night Man I’m not fronting these fronting ass niggas, no more

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