#Amani Fancy

[boyfridged]

i want to thank lovely @ekleiipsis for her contribution to amani’s campaign (amani reached her goal!) and many others. if you’d like to help out, please check my spotlight list. i am currently taking prompts for ficlets in exchange for proof of donation. details here. this is a ficlet written based on mar’s prompt (jay for the first time in the manor!). it’s 1086 words. enjoy.

(don't you wonder, sometimes?)

Jay does not go home. Or he does. The manor is his new home. This is what Bruce Wayne — Bruce Wayne!, not that he knew anything about him besides the vague recollection of rare headlines, tells him after taking the cowl off. There are black smudges of makeup around his eyes. And fluttering bats above them, on the cave’s ceiling.

“Theatre. And this— This is more of a palace,” Dad would say, probably. Well. Dad is not here.

Bruce Wayne is. Tall, but his smile is small. His steps, though, again – bigger. He is still wearing shoes even as he walks out of the silent clock, into the house, which is bizarre enough. Jason takes his boots off, because that’s the normal thing to do, even if Batman does not seem to know (or care). Then Jay ought to take twice as many strides for each of the man next to him, his legs too short to compare.

The corridor is so long that it feels almost like a trip, especially with the backpack hanging from his shoulder.

They make just one stop, in the kitchen, which is almost as big as the flat of his family. The fridge is the size of two regular ones, too. Wayne opens it and there are rows of products there, neater than the fancy convenience store displays. He takes an energy drink out of it and hands it to Jason. Then, he closes the fridge and takes a packet of granola from the cupboard next to it.

“Alfred is normally around to fetch snacks, but he seems to have gone to bed early,” Bruce Wayne says, scratching his neck awkwardly.

“Okay,” Jay replies, because he does not know who Alfred is. It is a posh name, all round sounds as he mouths it to himself. Better to remember.

“Sorry. You will get a real meal first thing in the morning. Is almond butter fine?”

Jay nods at the absurd question, accepting the bowl. “Okay,” he repeats, to fill in the silence, moving his weight to the other feet. 

“You must be tired. You can eat in your room.”

Because Jay is supposed to have a room of his own now. Right.

And they make their way there. First, there are more stairs — again, way too many. There’s also a portrait in the hall, a couple in what his mom would call “evening” clothes, and a boy, younger than him. They pose the way people in old pictures do. Jay almost stops to look at it, but Wayne is already at the top of the stairway. It would be easier to keep up by grasping at his sleeve, but Jay’s hands are full. They pass a vase without flowers. Maybe rich people don’t get flowers either. 

Batman halts in a spot that looks more lived in than the others. On the left, there’s a door with a “Keep out!” sign and some postcards. Pyramids. Some generic beaches. A huge, gold statue of Buddha. A very realistic rendition of a dinosaur. He gestures on the door across, on the right.

“You can have this one.”

For a moment, Jay just stands there, a bowl of granola with a bottle of energy drink on top of it balanced in one arm, and a pair of boots held in the other hand, suddenly sweaty. His heart hammers quickly, rabbit-like. 

“Okay,” he says, through a constrained throat, realising that what they are waiting for is his own reaction. Only then Bruce Wayne opens the door. 

Jay almost takes a step back, but that would mean walking into the man behind him. So instead he enters the bedroom. It’s not big, but it looks like it's from a period drama, which is intimidating enough. He puts the bowl on the desk. His shoes in the empty wardrobe.

Wayne disappears for a moment and comes back with a set of blue bedding, some rather big looking clothes (though Jay can’t imagine the guy in a Bowie’s 1983 tour t-shirt, so maybe it’s not his) and a hotel-like set of toiletries. Jay mutters a quiet “thanks.”

“You should rest. I will let you know when we have breakfast.” Wayne says, and after a pause asks, as if trying to speak his language: “Okay?” 

Jay attempts a smile, nodding. But Batman doesn't leave. He looks at him, and Jason is now feeling even more nervous, because the panda eyes make him want to giggle. This probably would not be an issue – he already mocked Batman plenty, called him names even – what was he thinking!, but now… He swallows, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth. Since he entered the car (Batmobile!) all the adrenaline, both from danger and excitement, came down, like from a punctured balloon. And now he is facing a stranger. His confidence is just as deflated, old shyness taking over.

Batman looks like he wants to add something. He says nothing - well, a “goodnight” and resigns himself to briefly – almost absent-mindedly, touching Jason’s temple. The gesture reminds Jay of the priest from the cathedral in the East End. The one who called all the kids “lambs.” It’s kind. And even the expression on Batman’s face is familiar – a mix of puzzlement and worry. 

Then Jay is left alone in the museum-like room. 

He takes his belongings out of the backpack. Two sets of clothes, no fresh PJs – that Serious Moonlight Tour t-shirt might be helpful tonight after all. The battered picture of his parents. This is all he had with himself at the boarding school. And this is where they stopped. Not– not home.

“Okay,” he whispers to himself. Or sniffs. “This is home now.”

He puts the photograph on the bedside table. Except this way, his parents are facing not just the mattress, but also the window. And outside the window, in the darkness – nothing. A field of grass, some decorative plants, their shapes slightly menacing, tilting from the wind. The air here in Bristol is so fresh that the night is black, not grey. And there are stars, so many! Still, the silence– 

“Space for a whole campsite,” Dad would say. But the more Jay tries to imagine Dad here, the more uneasy he feels. And Mom, she'd laugh– “Give it up, Willis. I’m a city girl.” 

Jay touches the small, crumpled faces printed on the shiny paper. Hugs it close to his heart. And then, he puts it under the pillow. 

Today he will learn to sleep in the quiet. The price for the night sky.

[marvus-xoloto]

can't stop thinking about Auriel and his moirail, Nawali. I make a lot of girl OCs, so it's fun to make some guys. Basic info under the cut for my own future reference, and for any interested <3

Auriel Anonymous (caste name unknown... to us ;o) hehe). He/him and gay.

Sign: LECER, sign of the loyalist (olive+blood+prospit)

Lusus: big fat tom catcoon (british short hair cat/raccoon; roundest motherfucker you ever did see.) His names is literally just Tom.

Strife specibus: idk yet ^^ I've been thinking curtaincall!kind where he just. Smothers you with red velvet curtains lmfao.

God tier: heir of blood

Land: Land of Mirrors and Velvet

Hobbies: owns a coffee shop (for the gossip, but also bc he loves to bake); theatre kid (loves troll shakespeare)

Job: professional impersonator; works with reconaissance

Quirk: terrible, forced cat puns, glitched text every 23 words.

Basic appearance: 5'9 and fat. I hc him to look like a combo between Jack Black and Harvey Guilen. Curly haired like a roman. Wears tiny little spectacles and a generally smug but friendly face. Mimics your facial expressions as you speak (unconscious habit). Horns... hmm. The lesft on is like two kitty ears and the right one is like a curious kitty tail, sharpened to a point.

Nawali Amanis, transmasc he/they mlm.

Sign: SCORITTARIUS, sign of the doubtful (cerulean+void+derse)

Lusus: Little bitty mantis *shrug* he's named for the amantis nawai, which is a teeny tiny mantis species. He's very affectionate but so vulnerable to being stepped on, and needs to eat a lot of moths.

Strife specibus: scythe!kind

God tier: mage of void

Land: Land of flickering candles and windchimes

Hobbies: strings up a bunch of glass lanterns in the woods around his hive to capture moths for his lusus (he collects and pins them; the ones he's collected before are dinner for his lusus); makes fancy little terrariums; hybridizes poisonous plants and breeds venomous insects.

Job: works on the black market supplying drugs (to cure or to kill, makes no difference to him unless he's on a downswing); also supplies fancy terrariums to indigo and violet bloods (uses this as a way to get Auriel in to their hives).

Quirk: Talks pretty. Haltingly. Concisely. Carefully. Uses few words. Proper grammar. !!UN LESS!! !!HESD ON AN!! !!UPSIWGN!! or.... on a downswing.......

Basic appearance: 6'1 and slender. Honestly he looks like David Chiang (the model) in my head: very striking and delicate looking. Horns look like his sign. Wears eccintric, wizard-style clothing in bold prints. Always barefoot; his floors in his hive are filthy.

[allthingsdancingonice]

How well do you think Ryan Thomas & New Pro Amani Fancy will do this year?

Aaron #DancingOnice

[storyweaverofgondor]

Here’s my OC wives and Pouncival’s human moms, Amani and Michelle, all dressed up and feeling soft!

[amani-outrider]

This world quest yesterday had me crying because I love Theotar SO MUCH

[108garys]

House of Ashes/Thedas AU: "misconceptions"

sorry its taking so long I'm still new to this, decided to split this one in half as it was a bit long(and then this part doesn't need to be held back while I tweak the other)so this part is Dar and Salim's povs and the others are in the second(boy are they not on the same page)

(part 1, part 2, part4)

tag list: @kassiekolchek22 @leevila-today @disabledbears @ultrabananapudding @seraphjewel @delurkr

(9:34/Dragon-Tevinter)

Dar settled into Amani’s sitting room, he always took his evening tea with his wife to go over the day and discuss the future; the last of the dying sun glared across marble walls and all of her glittery sculptures of fanciful things giving him a headache…

Today’s meeting was of particular importance as he would be away from Minrathous and Amani was in talks to find a match for their son, he wouldn’t know if they’d come to an agreement until his return. Dar hoped he would be happy like Amani and himself, although maybe happiness wasn’t exactly correct… He had been fond of her, as one who holds admiration for a peer they look up to, since they met some thirty years ago when he was their son’s age, she had been confident and irreverent and up front about every little thing that crossed her mind; on first meeting she declared neither he nor any other man would have her and he shyly admitted he had no desire outside of duty and two decades of marriage and fifteen years of parenthood later he counted her among his most cherished confidantes…

“It would be easier if you were here, it may be cause for offense that you deem their daughter’s hand less than some excursion to the deep roads,” Amani shuffled through parchment with engagement correspondence and Dar’s own scrawled notes seemingly indiscriminately, “Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m not suggesting you stay it’s just frustrating to deal with.”

“I’m sure we caused our parents the same frustration,” Dar smiled at her taking a note from her as an elven woman brought their tea, Amani’s smelt of sweet spices and his was bitter to his taste. "Please Dar, our parents were glad to find matches for people like us," she didn’t look up as she sipped. "Tell me again why you insist on such a small force?" He felt confident in the handful of men he'd be taking but understood her concerns. "Taking too great a number into the deep roads is asking for trouble, supplying a larger group would be a logistical nightmare."

"The Dwarves manage it." She quipped. "The Dwarves live there, it’s different." He reread the parchment as he finished his tea. "Salim has been working out the details for months, if we add to our number this late we may as well scrap the whole trip."

"Ah yes, Salim," Amani leaned forwards with a devious smile, "Now that’s a name I hear paired with such pining and sad cow eyes, tell me why don’t you get on with it and bed him already?"

"Venhedis, Amani!" His wife had no patience for shame or to mince words. "I couldn’t, he’s still grieving the loss of his wife and as his employer it would be inappropriate to…" She was giving him that look that said she knew better. "You say that like she died." Dar thought the loss of relationship or reputation was cause for grief besides the fact that people of lower status could marry for love, he didn’t know if Salim had loved Raina but he couldn’t just ask about it…

"It’s been five years, his son will be going south to study in Orlais soon and what if he goes south with his boy and decides he likes Val Royeaux?" She lazily adjusted a pin in her dark hair as she continued to paint her husband’s nightmare scenario. "He could be wed to a southerner within the year and I’ll spend the rest of my life married to a great lump that stares south wondering what could have been if only you had the balls to make him yours."

"I don’t meddle in your affairs." Dar tried his best to keep a casual tone, these things had always come easier to her and right on cue she proved it, "At least I have them," she said winking at the elf as she returned for the tea cups, this drew a blush to the girls cheek. "Kaffas! I can’t just make him!" he was desperate for this conversation to be over. "Of course you can, what? You think he’d turn you down?" Amani sorted the papers back into their original piles, "Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to enjoy sex at least once in your life."

“Salim is a citizen of the Imperium, not some slave I can do whatever I want with!” He tried to convince himself that Salim’s professional loyalty would suffice but the idea of him being swept away by some southerner who wouldn’t hide behind duty and tittles, it was nearly enough to consider his wife’s suggestion…

“But he wouldn’t refuse you, if you insist on treating this infatuation like something deeper then promise him the whole world for all I care, just stop punishing yourself over it.” Happiness wasn’t the word for what Dar had with Amani, he could be happy if Salim called him Amatus, his beloved, maybe it would be right after their success. Offer the man everything he has in exchange for love and hope for the best. “Why did I marry a woman more clever than myself?”

Satisfied Amani left Dar to his thoughts, most involved Salim, the things he wished to say and much more the things he wished to do, he couldn’t let it distract him from his work but after that he would catch him, keep him from the evils of the barbaric south and any uncivilised backwards lover he may find there. Salim deserved the world and the Magister was beginning to convince himself that he alone could give it to him…

--

The hour was growing late, a week from now his son would be on his way to his new life in Orlais and he had dusty darkspawn infested ruins to look forwards to. Dar was certain that there was some power he could put between himself and his enemies down there, rumours had been circulating about something strange in that part of the deep roads for years now and it had near consumed the Magister as of late.

Salim went over everything, he had time but he’d rather be ahead. The house was a mess between his preparations and Zain’s. His niece Dalia, with whom Zain would be living, had come all the way from Orlais to accompany her younger cousin. She was making the most of her stay as she hadn’t much opportunity to return to Tevinter since her marriage to an Orlesian merchant and she had never been to Minrathous.

Zain’s classes wouldn’t begin for months and Salim was glad that his son would have time to familiarise himself with the culture but right now as he sat watching the front entrance a candle burnt down and his patience grew thin…

A few painfully slow minutes of worrying later the front door swung open. “Zain,” his son looked as if he’d expected to escape notice returning at this hour. “It’s my fault,” Dalia cut across, “I just get so turned around, truly I would be wandering the streets until dawn if it wasn’t for Zain.” She gave her cousin a nod before slinking off to her room. She was nearly thirty but seemed more like a child trying to avoid reprimand. Zain began to follow her down the hall.

“Zain…” The boy stopped without turning to him, Salim left his seat to approach him. “You know it worries me when you stay out this late, especially at this time.” Zain turned to him, “Why can’t you come with me?” They’d had this conversation before…

“Zain, you know I can’t back out of this… You should be thankful that Magister Basri allowed me to plan things around your departure.” His son frowned, Salim was sure his boy hated the man nearly as much as his mother had; especially this past year…

Raina had hated Minrathous, she held out for five years unable to convince Salim to return to Ventus and towards the end she held him in suspicion; that he was dishonest and disloyal and of imagined duties to the Magister. He’d never denied his attraction to men but it was singularly ridiculous to imply that there was anything between them. The man was stubbornly proper and the very idea of them together would mortify him.

“Basri can hang for all I care,” Zain had never been this open with disdain. “Zain! Have some respect, we wouldn’t be half as well off if I didn’t serve him!” Zain shook his head, storming off down the hall. Salim hadn’t meant to be so harsh, his son was going through a lot and he couldn’t be as present as he wanted. He let ten minutes pass before knocking on Zain’s bedroom door. “Zain, please…”

The lock clicked and Salim let himself in. The boy was sitting on his bed near tears. “I understand the difference it’s made but…” his voice began to waver, “Don’t die for him!” and with that tears were pouring, Salim rushed to Zain’s side, sitting with him on the bed, wrapping his arms around him. “That’s not going to happen,” he smoothed his son’s curls, it wasn’t like his concerns were unfounded… “I promise as soon as I return from the deep roads I’ll come and visit you in Val Royeaux for as long as you need.”

“You promise?” Zain’s voice was slightly muffled, his head buried in his father’s shoulder. “I promise.” His son pulled away from his embrace and looked him dead in the eye, “And if I asked you to leave him?” he had meant ‘leave his service’ but Salim couldn’t help how he how was reminded of Raina at the end. He couldn’t stand the idea of losing Zain like he’d lost her…

“It is true that I have given him a decade of my life,” and he was grateful, he truly was, but the damage to his personal life was too much, “but it isn’t a simple thing to just quit.” Zain crossed his arms, blinking away fresh tears. “I knew it!”

Losing Raina had felt inevitable; things hadn’t been the same after Seheron. He could argue away his responsibility, that it wasn’t wrong to strive for a better life, that his loyalty to the Magister wasn’t truly to blame and they just wanted different things but not with Zain. Dar couldn’t know the effect he had, that in the year since Salim had suffered major injury in the Magister’s defence a rift had steadily grown between him and his son; a rift Dar’s increasing paranoia filled as he drew closer for fear of his own life. Salim didn’t want to hurt his friend but if it was between his boss and his son…

Salim put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, maybe a successful venture would be the right note to retire on. He could celebrate the Magister's personal victory and announce that things needed to change… “This isn’t a decision that can be made in one evening but I will consider it.” Zain sighed heavily, brushing a hand over his face. “I want an answer before you leave.” It was the best compromise for the moment; it gave Salim a week to decide what the rest of his life would be like…

Zain was due to depart the day after his eighteenth name day and in his mind’s eye Salim couldn’t see himself breaking his son’s heart like that, Zain would never forgive him and he could hardly forgive himself. “Ok,” he said softly, it would be hard to focus on his work but when the time was right he’d make sure Dar understood the necessity, “Now you should get some sleep, we still have a lot to do.” He hugged him before leaving for his own room, he had expected to live here for the rest of his life and now nothing was certain…

[viktormaru]

DD tierlist of characters likely to exaggerate their stories around the campfire vs characters who do not exaggerate but horrify the others anyways by how nonchalant they are while describing wild stories

oh my god UHSUAH Im not sure I quite got it but maybe this???

I think dismas maybe either will just tell the story as it is bcs mind your own business or be drunk and just lie abt it bcs fuck you. Sarmenti will lie just bcs he can and its funny and Boudica will just make shit up bcs its cool fuck you.

I think Reynauld lies mostly bcs he's just interpreting things ok like the Light was there everybody clapped (and like he just says grandiose things hes good at pep talks bcs of it). Kinda same for Barristan except he does it bcs its fun to get ppl excited. The three at the middle there just also think its funny but at other ppl's expenses

I almost moved Amani down but I don't know her that well, never read through all her barks. Baldwin was rough because I feel like he IS honest about his stories but he says them in such a fancy and poetic way it's kinda hard to interpret what the fuck he's saying.

The three at the bottom will say the most fucked up shit without hiding and like why though Tardif is like a box of chocolate but its not actually chocolate wait what the fuck is this Tardif?? What did you just hand me hello???

again feel free to throw ur own ideas abt this

[ghoulsbeard]

HAS ANYBODY ASKED ABOUT THE ME2 FIC...does it contain tony my beloved

amani im beaming you a pound of valentines and your snack of choice ;________________; fancy drinks too ily…thank you sm <3 <3 !!!

YOU are beloved as well ;______; Ty

it’s old as balls and i feel very underqualified but i keep coming back to it the ending has a grip… so I cant shelve her in good conscience ;__;

a scrap from the start of a scene:

The door snicks open at his back. It’s too late to be Jacob. “Get out of here. Go to bed."

Thane moves behind him cat-footed. “Is that an order?”

“Now you want orders.”

“Merely clarification.” His nails tap on the glass from gun to gun to gun.

He is fucking hellbent on fiddling with the gimmicky sights on that piece of shit rifle again. “Then sit down.”

Thane pauses. If that surprises or satisfies him there is no goddamn way in the galaxy to tell, he’s got a composure like turian alloy. “Where?”

“Here.” There’s one chair in the armory that’s worth sitting on for more than half an hour. Tony gets up and lets him have it and Thane passes close enough to feel the biotics just beneath his skin winched tight as radio static.

[soft-persephone]

Do You Remember Yesterday

Maxwell Lord x Black!Female OC

WC: 3.1k

Summery: “You were always better than her. Nice, kinder, warmer, more real. You saw me as who I was and not something to manipulate. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in a lie, surely I would have chosen you.” He was trying to sound confident and sure. Reassuring even.

But all he could hear was a lost desperate voice looking for answers. Some form of comfort. Standing up, he shook his head violently to scare away tears. He looked at the prettiest sad girl he’s ever seen in his life. A beautiful black girl who deserves someone to be there for her as she wanted to be for everyone else. 

“Can you tell me why you’ve been working at your old cubicle and not your office as the CEO of Ankh Tech?”

Amani fumbled with her hands for a second, not looking up, her mouth in a thin line. She wasn't even sure if counseling was  helping at this point. How many times was she going to have to tell the same story over and over again.

She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. “Every time I close my eyes I still see Charlotte on the floor of that office.” She let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I thought she was dead. I thought she died,” she fidgeted with her hands, ”and I know she’s not, but I don't like remembering any of it.”

“Knowing and being aware of a problem is the first step to getting better. I’ll talk with Mr. Chandler about how you need to take baby steps into your new position, but You need to know that this job is going to be different than any other managerial position. “ 

Her tone was light but firm. Nothing in the slightest was rude or condescending, but Amani didn’t want to hear any of it. She needed to accuse  her of it anyway because of how it made her feel.

“The office isn’t a big deal! I don’t need some big fancy office to prove how good I am at my job!” Tears started welling in her eyes and she hated it. She hated how small she felt. How weak and helpless it made her feel. 

“But you're the boss,’ The blond ponytail interrupted her. 

Amani didn’t say anything. 

“You are not only a boss but the face and symbol of this company.”

“.But I…..What if...I don’t want to let anyone down. My mother, Pops,” She choked out a sob, “I don't want to betray Charlotte and now she’s not here anymore.”

Amani flinched when she felt a hand brush her cheek. 

She was crying for real this time.

“What Charlotte did, she did to herself, sweetie,” She handed Amani a tissue, “You are not responsible for Charlotte’s actions.

~

“Maaaaniii.”

Amani looked up to the voice singing her name in surprise.

“Pops,” She questioned,” What are you doing here?” She walked from behind her desk to give her step dad a hug. 

“I heard you moved a few of your things in the new office, and I wanted to come and tell you how proud of you I am for everything you’ve done and for making progress.”

“Pops you don't have to be so dramatic, I only worked in here for an hour.”

“So what are you doing in here now, hmmm.”

“Just turning the computer on and giving the office a test run for when I'm ready.”

It's been three weeks since everything’s happened and Amani finally decided to take back at least some of the control she had over her lie. It was nothing compared to how she used to plan out every little step and move, but it was something and it made her feel better. 

“I know it's hard trying to get back to normal,” he grabbed her shoulders into an embrace, like she would disappear at any given moment, “I asked someone very close to the heart  in our family, and I Hope you give him another chance. I know he’s broken your heart in some way, but you can't go through this alone right now,and no one has helped you better at time like this than him.”  

As if called by some beacon, he open the door, “Amani.” He said nothing else, his brow furrowed. He had the nerve to look worried about her, but she pushed that aside. 

Her heart dropped to her stomach. 

“MAX!” she gasped in surprise as a tall broad figure pulled her in for a hug. A massive hand cradled her head to his chest and another wrapped around her. She could almost cry as the familiar scent of a spicy musk wood flooded her senses.

“I heard what happened.” His grip on her tightened before he let her go. The gesture gave her a chance to take in the man she once knew as a boy. Gone was his jet black ruffled hair, now replaced with a blown out and highly styled blonde brown. But those eyes felt like home. Her old Max was still in the face of this unfamiliar man in front of her. After everything he did to recently split him up, here he was, but only because her father was meddling and thrust him upon her and back into her life without her consent. 

His words struck something deep and hollowed within her. 

She blinked back unexpected tears. That line was the story of her life. No more ‘hellos’ or ‘how are you’. It was always about what happened and people promising to be there for her, call me when you can, let me know what I can do to help, or her least favorite, a frown and look of pity as they said nothing and jumped to their own conclusions before moving on. 

 “I haven't seen you in so long and now I'm embarrassed to say I would always think of you when you're not around.” 

Amani could only laugh. Most people only know a piece of Max from how he carries himself in the public eye such as on tv or interviews, but she’s seen every part of hin through youth to the people they were now. 

“If only you would have thought of me just as much before you attempted to ruin our relationship.”

He laughed loudly at her little quip. The sound vibrated off his chest and filled the room. She wanted to hear as much of that as possible. He didn’t laugh much when they were younger. She was surprised he was laughing at all, but they had to lie. They had to lie to convince the people around them that the finality of their relationship wouldn’t break such an obvious bond between them, but neither of them could hardly define what they wanted. 

“Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about everything?”

“That would be nice, Max” she replied softly.

~

Maxwell didn’t want to let her go when he hugged her. She looked thinner than she did in all her instagram and facebook pictures, that he shamelessly stalked for weeks when he got the call from his temporary ex-girlfriend’s father about her. Her eyes were swollen from crying and somehow hollow at the same time, bloodshot red, and tired.

Charlotte had almost taken everything from her and he hated the woman even more for it. He wanted to get straight to the point and talk about everything, but he knew Mani wouldn’t be ready for anything that intense at her fragile state. 

“You have the ultimate power of a company in the palm of your hand, and the first thing you do is put a specialty coffee shop in the lobby.” he playfully crossed his arms, “explain to me how that's good business.”

“Coffee is just as important to me as my job, and it’s way more practical than a shitty juice bar.”

Amani’s skin was too dark for her to blush, but Maxwell always knew her tell. She would either scrunch her nose, an awkward attempt to stop smiling that only made her smile more, or quickly look to the side to avoid eye contact with a hand covering her mouth. But his favorite was when she did both. Just like she was now.

“Charlotte always had a weird thing for juice and smoothies.”

The mention of Charlotte made her eyes gloss over for a moment and it made him want to rip himself in half.

“I figured we could take it easy today,” he quickly changed the subject, “I’ll shadow you as you go about your day as if i’m not even here.”

“Okay,” he waited patiently as she twirled her head with a hand on her chin in thought. The gesture was making his toes curl in his shoes. How the youngest Chandler was now the face of the family legacy, “I’m okay with that,” she started slowly, “only if you promise to be quiet for most of the day.”

Maxwell opened his mouth in shock. Not even remotely sure what to say. 

“Max, don't be like that. You know how much of a talker you’ve always been.”

“Are you aware of who I am?”

“Ooooh,” She dramatically wiggled her fingers as she raised her hands, “You’ve been on tv a few times. Big deal”

“I guess that’s a no,” He smirked and propped one leg over the other, “ I am a powerful and equally feared man. While you were in your sophomore year of college trying not to fail Economics 101, I was building the foundation of my own empire. No one has told me to shut up since I entered the field.”

“Well, I wish they had you cocky bastard.” she grinned. 

“I’ll have you know that I--”

“Ms. Chandler?” a barista at the newly innovative indoor cafe interrupted him, “ are you ready to start cupping the new roasts for the season?”

Maxwell chuckled at the way her nose crinkled at being called Ms. Chandler.

“Absolutely, you can bring some for this gentleman as well.”

Maxwell waited for the girl to leave before he said anything.

“Don’t ever call me a gentleman in public” he scoffed.

“I can call you an old man if you want me to.” she cheekily replied.

Coming back with a tray, soon there were several small cups in front of them and they were given large round spoons. 

Wasting no time, Amani carefully dipped each spoon in every cup before taking small sips from each, then writing a few things on an ipad before going to the next. 

“This one right here, the single origin, it's good but I feel the flavour profile isn’t that interesting. This blend however would be perfect for a House Roast this season. Either of these other two are fine or any other blend option, and I already know we talked about keeping the espresso blend the same as often as possible.”

“Do you want all of that on the website?”

“Definitely, people like transparency when it comes to everything they eat and drink these days. Give it a few months, but I want to start selling things online. The coffee market on the internet is pretty impressive these days.”

“Anything else, boss?” The girl bobbled off happily.

“No, that should be all for today Stephanie. I’m pretty sure we’ll be ready for this place to open up on Monday.”

Maxwell stared at her thoughtfully. 

“You're in the coffee business?” he said in disbelief. “Since when?”

“A month.” Mani pursed her lips.

“Since when did you learn so much about coffee?” 

She was incredible. She was mentally put through the wringer and her life was almost torn into shambles, but her saving grace, the one thing she could do without fail was run a small budding coffee shop.

“I've always been kinda picky with coffee, you know that.”

She was going to be the death of him. Yes, he remembers her talking about coffee every now and then, but that didn’t mean he knew she was some self taught coffee expert. 

“Well if you can do this, you can run Ankh Tech.”

“Those are two ocmpletely different things.”

“What about Ankh do you not understand?”

“Well.. there's nothing I don’t understand it's just that---”

“Then you can run Ankh Tech.” He said with finality.

Getting up he straightened his clothes. 

“Let’s go upstairs and you can prove to me whether you can do this or not.”

~

Maxwell quietly made his way to the Chandler manor pool. It was the second year anniversary between him and his girlfriend, and what better way to prove how great of a boyfriend he was than to surprise her with a git? 

He was wrong.

Seeing his girlfriend on a pool recliner with the random poolboy with one hand sliding up and down between her thighs with another fondling one of her exposed nipples was not surprising. 

Especially not surprising also seeing a bag of various pills nearby, just like the small bag of coke he discovered in her room last month.

He convinced himself the drugs didn’t bother him. He believed her when she said she was planning on quitting after she met him. How he made her better, How she was not only doing it for herself but for us. 

He ignored the revelation at the words after she met him because that would mean she was on drugs when they first started dating. But he loved her right. So there's no need to get mad at her because love conquers all.

Never again.

Without even making a fuss or yelling or letting her know he was there, he turned around. Slamming the door behind him. He stomped up the stairs and turned around the corner, making his way to the fancy home theatre. 

The new home theatre, where he knew he would find Charlotte’s best friend as well as sister. It was recently renovated for her because after Mr. Chandler’s late wife passed, he had remarried a woman with a daughter. When asking her what her heart's most desire, no matter how expensive, would be to make her feel more welcome at her grand new home, she shyly declared a home theatre would be nice. He was asuming shyly because that’s all he’s ever seen her as, whether in this house, with Charlotte somewhere, or at college.  

Curled up in a giant leather chair, she was surprisingly not watching Star Wars for the millionth time, but a movie he had never seen or heard of. He marched to the front, making sure she heard every step, but once he got there, he was unsure of what to do. 

He wanted to make her mad, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't channel his inner asshole, and stand directly in front of the screen and block her view. He couldn’t raise his voice at her, throw the remote across the room, or even toss over her bowl of snacks.

Defeated, he sighed loudly.

“What's wrong?” She paused the movie and looked towards him with undivided attention. 

“You want an anniversary gift?” He sneered. 

“Here,” he threw down the bouquet of flowers and the giant bag in her lap before flopping in the recliner next to hers.

He watched her slowly opening the gift. All he could afford was a NYU sweatshirt to his and Charlotte's respective school, flowers, chocolate. There was a surprise necklace, but he could easily return that and get his hard earned money back.

“She would have loved this.” Mani’s voice was small. But he was glowering at her and his standoffish attitude probably wasn’t helping either. Her lip quivered.

“I should have told you about the drugs. It's my fault I let it get this far between you two and now you're hurt because of it.” She half turned her body from him and looked away. 

He couldn't believe this. Before saying anything, he let the silence grow between them. He silently cursed to himself when he saw she was wearing an oversized shirt and probably really short sleeping shorts, but he personally hoped she just had underwear underneath the expanse of the shirt. He shamelessly stared at the generous amount of skin, she was unaware of what revealing that amount of skin in front of a guy meant. How much it meant to him. He didn't feel bad because he was  single at the moment and the idea of hurting Charlotte’s feelings by forming a relationship with her new younger sister didn't seem like a half bad idea at the moment. 

Indulging in the secret fantasy that he’s been hiding for so long isn’t a bad idea anymore.

“You're unbelievable.” She turned quickly at him in shock but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. “Your sister acts like a complete bitch not only to me, but to you as well, and you blame yourself.”

“That’s not--- ”

“Then why do you act like it was you I found with the pool boy’s tongue halfway down your throat?”

 “I knew about the drugs for a while, but it's getting old taking care of her because of it,” He laughed bitterly, “but I believed her when she said she loved me and that it was just something that I could help her through. 

He looked into her eyes and hoped she saw the answer she was looking for in his.  “I drew the line at her dragging her baby sister into it. You're not responsible for Charlotte.

“You still don't deserve it,” she shook her head adamantly, “and I could have stopped it.” Her voice was shaking and he fought down a wave of rage that he knew would only make it worse.

He stood up and kneeled in front of her. “Put the sweatshirt on,” he hid the pleading in his voice. Pretending she wasn’t looking at him with a confused look, face flushed from crying.

Tears were flowing freely down her face and he couldn’t take it. All he could do was blame Charlotte. 

As gently as he could he wiped the tears from her face with his hand. Her breath hitched at his touch and he ignored how the sound filled some dark pit of his body with warmth. He carefully lifted the sweatshirt and bunched it together so he could put her head through the shirt. He helped her put her arms through sleeves and then wiped more of her tears. He was close now and he didn’t ever want to break away.

“You were always better than her. Nice, kinder, warmer, more real. You saw me as who I was and not something to manipulate. If I wasn’t so wrapped up in a lie, surely I would have chosen you.” He was trying to sound confident and sure. Reassuring even.

Butt all he could hear was a lost desperate voice looking for answers. Some form of comfort. Standing up, he shook his head violently to scare away tears. He looked at the prettiest sad girl he’s ever seen in his life. A beautiful black girl who deserves someone to be there for her as she wanted to be for everyone else. 

He leaned down and lightly brushed his lips on her forehead. Staying a moment he savored the feeling of her skin along his lips before brushing them along a slow and tender path to her lips. He wouldn;t dare kiss them. Not right now, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting close to them. 

He could stay there forever. 

She didn't push him away and he would stay as long as he could before she started to hate him.

“See you around, Mani.” 

After brushing a thumb on her soft full lips, he stood up and walked out. Leaving Chandler's Manor with tears on his face and an empty heart.

~~~~~~

I am a black writer. I have lurked in this fandom for about a year and a half. You may have seen me like something a few times, but here I am contributing loud and proud. Hello, everyone and welcome to my corner of tumblr!!!

[iamfruitie]

What about Marvin dressed in a tight glittery revealing outfit with a fancy version of his mask on while preforming E.N.I.G.M.A. By miss amani

Well hot damn!

That outfit is not going to stay on him for long when he's off the stage The security is gonna need to make sure there's no backstage visitors when they hear some *cough* sounds come from Marvin's dressing room

[lycanthrology]

things I’d change in this book. god im only 3/5 of the book in and yet and yet..

LONG!!!!

- Show Amari and Binta’s relationship firsthand

The first time we see Binta is when she gets executed then afterwards Amari can’t stop talking about their friendship and time together so why didn’t we start a few days before the execution to get to know Binta personally. She’s a major part of Amari’s arc and I had no attachment to her whatsoever because we’re never shown anything physically. We get told she’s her best friend with no evidence. And when she dies, imo Amari does not react in a way that signifies that she cared loads for her. Like she grabs onto the wall and forces herself not to cry but like when she’s alone I don’t remember her breaking down or lashing out she just carries on regardless then quotes the death as her motive in her internal monologue every other page.

- Give each POV character a distinctive voice

There are 3 POV characters (Zelie, Amani, and Iman) and they are impossible to tell apart from each other. Like Zelie and Amani are together so they’re perspectives are nearly identical which shouldn’t be the case! They’re completely different people with different upbringings and outlooks on the world so their thoughts and reactions should be very different to each other. Amani is a human noble runaway who’s never left a palace learning about the world outside and magic for the first time and Zelie is a fairly streetwise Maji who’s had to deal with oppression her entire life testing her newly discovered magic. They should have entirely different personalities that shine through in the narration but it just.. doesn’t. They sound like the exact same person. Iman is only discernible because his storyline is different (he’s following and trying to kill them) but again he sounds the same.

- Make things harder and raise the stakes.

There’s three items they need to save magic and they start the story with one already. The second one is given to them when they get to a mountain and the third they win in a watery arena fight thing. They get them all before page 300/500 and don’t start collecting until about 75 so it’s incredibly fast paced. We don’t get to know the characters as people (we learn about Zelie and her role in the village but then she’s taken out of the village and we still don’t know what she’s like as a person and it feels like the village stuff was unnecessary because she’s totally different now for no reason) so tbh i don’t really care if any of them die because I’m not invested in their lives and how a death would affect them!

- Show not tell etc etc

All it does it tell us everything like spoonfeeding the audience. I know this is YA but readers aren’t stupid and you don’t need to hold their hand. There are no saids everything is a fancy over the top dialogue tag to the point where nothing means anything. Okay so she yelled? Big deal! She yells on every single page whats so special this time. And so many feelings get explained rather than described. It won’t be overt like ‘She was sad’ but like ‘Her eyes clouded with sadness’ drop the ‘with sadness’ you’re doing too much work and it’s losing it’s emotional impact. Don’t tell us what they’re feeling show it. It’s so much better that way.

- Characters do not react!! And when they do it’s at the wrong things

This one particular scene was the point where I realised the book was not going to work for me (but I paid £6 for it and I’m getting my money’s worth lmao).

I’ll set the scene: Zelie has rescued Amani from Inan and is being chased by him. They go back to her home village with a scroll that when touched by a Maji will unlock their powers. Zelie gives the scroll to this village wise woman archetype and it unlocks her magic. Magic is illegal and has been dormant for a decade so magic is a big big deal. She’s not really shocked or scared by seeing magic but is like ohh i knew it!! Meanwhile the king’s men and Inan have caught up to them and is setting the village on fire and killing villagers. Zelie and Amani know this and do not rush or seem to have any time restrictions. The old woman goes magic mode and sees the mountain they must travel to to get the next artefact. They leave the village and go to the mountain.

Major points in that scene and reaction:

Big reveal that old wise woman is actually magic (we guessed this was true because you are a wise woman nobody is shocked or surprised)

The village is burning down (it’s mentioned once but only elaborated on in Inan’s POV because he’s physically doing it)

They need to go to this secret temple that is only a legend (well you’ve seen it in the vision so it must be real let’s get going!)

There are innocent villagers dying because Inan wants to find and kill Zelie (let’s listen to the old lady monologue completely remorse free)

You see what I mean!! This is a highly stressful and intense situation (if id written this it would be a major if not THE major scene in the opening 100 pages but there are at least 2 others just like it so much happens and nothing is lingered on the pacing is so wack!!!) and they act so casual so to the audience it means nothing! Then in Inan’s POV they force us to feel things by murdering innocent children and it’s like this is lazy you’re pulling lazy shortcuts here.

- The water arena

RIGHT we get told at the beginning there are Maji that can control water and our characters are put on a fight to the death fortnite battle royale on these big boats in a water arena and NOT ONCE is there a water Maji!!!!! If I was the author either a) one of the enslaved Maji on the boat had water powers that get awakened and help them (they can either join the team or die and get referenced every other page like Binta) or b) the fucked up commentator dude who they spend way too long getting angry at should’ve been a secret water Maji who was manipulating the water so no one would win and he’d get to keep the prize money and sunstone and keep the games going and keep making money from it. Chekhov's water magic.

Also I saw someone say they ripped the story off of Avatar the last airbender and I’ve never watched avatar BUT there was a fire event (village burning), earth event (up the mountain), water event (water arena) and an evil guy working under a king that decides he’s wrong and tries to join the team which I know are things in avatar right? idk

[wowheadquarters]

don't be shy, drop ALL your Kel'Thuzad headcanons~

All of them? Hm. I don’t know if I remember all of them. Also, I stopped keeping track of WoW some time in the middle of the Battle for Azeroth, because it can either be WoW whcih I enjoy or shitwreck, and I chose WoW, which isn’t what Blizzard/Activision is currently serving- I meant to say that most likely my headcanons aren’t Shadowlands compatibile.

Anyway. Kel’thuzad headcanons of various importance as I remember them.

Kel’thuzad is his actual given name, it’s not a pseudonym or anything.

In Thalassian “kel’thuzad” mean “seeker of the truth”. (In Darnassian the same phrase is “keil tassad” and in Zandali “kel’ta sad”.)

Kel’thuzad speaks Common and Thalassian fluently. Before the Dark Portal opened he knew some phrases in Dwarven (conversational) and Gnomish (related to transport industry and mathematic). He can also speak Zandali with varying accents (mostly Amani), but he knows only five or six Zandali signs (he can sign his name, but that’s it).

After the Dark Portal opened, Kel’thuzad tried and failed to learn Orcish. He gained the skill later when it was a trial-and-error learning by communicating with Ner’zhul. Due to that Kel’thuzad’s accent when speaking Orcish is not “Human,” but distinctly Shadowmoon.

He also learned Nerubian from... well, the dead Nerubians. He can now both speak and write fluently even with encryption.

(There are 3 ways of Nerubian ecryptions and they can be simultaneously applied. This way there exist 7 versions of encryption plus 1 unencrypted text. These are known as the Eight Webs of writing. Plain text is written in the First Web, triple encryptin is the Eighth Web.)

He can read (but not speak) Nathrezim, and somewhat read and speak Shath’Yar, the language of the Old Gods. He would understand Quiraji if he ever encountered it, because it is very close to Nerubian (like Czech and Slovakian, I imagine).

The Language of Death, by the Scourge usually referred to as Deathspeak, is an artificial language created by Kel’thuzad. It is based on all languages he knew at the point of creating it, and is fairly easy to learn if you find a willing teacher. It was created for the members of the Cult of the Damned to understand ach other without them feeling like one language/race is put above the other, and to partially control their thoughts, as the language specifically hasn’t got some words or phrases (such as “rebellion”). Orwell would be proud.

He was brownhaired, but he greyed out fairly quickly when Ner’zhul settled in his head without paying any rent.

He was from Kul’Tiras. (I still want him to necromance a sunken ship. And a chalk cliff.)

His family name is Naxrierre. There is a theory that Naxrierres were a witch coven that became civilized with years, which is mostly spread by naysayers to explain the family’s talent towards magic. Another theory claims that they are a part-elven bastards which would besides the magic explain the name.

Kel’thuzad took the elf-Naxrierr theory to heart and in his ambition for one of his sons to make it somewhere else than the navy agve him a Quel’dorei name.

The suffix -ramas in Nerubian signifies not encessarily a necropolis but any place to permanently home dead bodies. “Naxxramas” is basically “Nax(rierre)’s tomb” but in Nerubian. 

As a mage in Dalaran Kel’thuzad studied arcanophysic, a way to describe and measure magic. This field is where all the calibration of spells or even negating spells comes from. He became the sole teacher of it in Dalaran, because he was the only one enthusiastic enough about it to bother.

He was that type of teacher who didn’t give homeworks, he hated correcting them. He also had his classes in the most unreasonable hours, such as 3 AM, because he had a busy schedule and non-existent sleep pattern.

Since Kel’thuzad’s banishment the knowledge of arcanophysics among the Dalaran mages has drasticaly declined and is nearly nonexistent nowadays. All books Kel’thuzad had written on it have been sealed away, which removed nearly all reliable sources from the public access.

Kel’thuzad actually had good relationships with his colleagues. He helped Alonda with her fild research on Trolls (hence his speaking Zandali).

His closest friend was Anthonidas. They used to be classmates once upon the time.

What really undermined Kel’thuzad’s trust and belief in Kirin Tor was what happened to Khadgar. He realized that Kirin Tor is not going to act if given a warning, and not going to help if hearing a plea.

He still tried to warn Kirin Tor before what he didn’t know was the Scourge. He had noticed the Amani “moving out of the way”. “Whatever will happen, and I believe that this time it will be the dead, because the demons haven’t tried that yet, it will happen in a single line from Lordareon to Quel’Danas. We know the Amani can see into the future, and they are clearing out of this path.” Dismissed as a doomsayer, he wasn’t really persistent in his warnins.

Ner’zhul’s talks to Kel’thuzad began as especially persistent migraines. Whenever Kel’thuzad tried to tell Anthonidas that his condition is serious, he was sent off with a mug of peacebloom tea and an advice not to stay up so late, and maybe lay off some stress.

The teacher who taught Thrall in his early years such stuff as writing, that was Kel’thuzad in disguise when he was rectuiting in and around Durnholde Keep.

No, Kel’thuzad has no idea the little pet-orc he was trying to groom and later kidnap for the Cult of the Damned (What a better liteunant than the one you raise yourself?) is Thrall, the Warchief of the Horde.

Kel’thuzad was tasked with finding and preparing the perfect new host for Ner’zhul. He was trying to overthrow the Lich King, so he picked Arthas as a paladin of Light whom he believed strong willed enough to handle it. And at the start of the story Arthas was.

His second choice for Lich King would have been Kael’thas.

He shuffled his cards in the deck of “Scourge politics” so that Bolvar Fordragon would take the Helm of Domination after Arthas. Players greta victory? Just according to keikaku.

He had (and still has) a “wanted poster” for Garrosh Hellscream. He really wanted him into the Scourge army. The reward was a whole necropolis with units.

Naxxramas had a dedicated “catkeeper” tasked with taking care of Mr. Bigglesworth and cleaning the acid/slime vats. Her name was Gwendoline, usually called Gwen, she is now one of Garrosh’s ghost children. Gwen died during the attack on Theramore where she was working as a spy for the Scourge.

Liches feed off people emotions and minds. The Lich Kign keeps it secret (even from Kel’thuzad) to keep them starved and obedient. The passive “nibbling” causes that people around liches start to be unfeeling.

Kel’thuzad has developed the Cure for the Plague quite early on. Ner’zhul made him test the plagues seeds on himself.

Speakig of that, Ner’zhul (and later Arthas as the Lich King) had a complete control over Kel’thuzad’s body, so if he refused to carry out an order, Ner’zhul could just make him do it anyway.

Additionally, the Lich King could kep him going despite injuries, exhaustion &c. Arthas fancied himself thinking that h killed Kel’thuzad, but the truth is that the cumulative injuries (several broken bones, stab wounds, a concussion, frostbites, poisonings), exhaustion and starvation were enough to kill Kel’thuzad twice over, no hammer needed. Ner’zhul just in that moment let Kel’thuzad die, because that was what he needed.

He used to play Hearthstone a lot when he was alive. He had a very good Hunter Murlock tribal deck.

He is asexual, and quite possibly aromantic too. In his words: “I believe in love on the first sight. And I am probably blind or something, as it seems.”

His favourite colour is purple.

Shortly before the capture of Bolvar Fordragon Kel’thuzad re-bound his phylactery from the whole urn to a single shard. The shard was sold by a cult of the Damned agent in Kul’Tiras to Taelia Fordragon as a lucky amulet.

Whenever as a lich Kel’thuzad regained his form, he always found himself knee-deep in water due to some fucking coincidences, starting with the Sunwell.

Speaking of Sunwell, he carries in himself  “a spark of Sunwell”. this has many benefits, such as power or not giving a fuck about Light being super-effective against the undead. It is a thing to be revealed out of the blue without prior warning when we need to reset the Sunwell (again).

He has enough knowledge of Troll and Orc shamanism to be considered a shaman, and too analytical and scientific mind to be actually good at it.

He also had made an oath to the Amani tribe that everything he’s learned from them would never be used to harm any Troll. It is why Kel’thuzad was not responsible for the havoc wrought in Zul’drak.

Naxxrams “responds” to Kel’thuzads emotions and feelings and even physical state. When he gets discorporated (killed), Naxxramas enters “save battery” mode. Naxxramas’ usual is “cold and static” and “cold and slightly shaking” which is Kelthuzad’s “bored” and “irritated” respectively.

He doesn’t like sweets, but he enjoyes crunchy stuff, be it cookies or fried potato slices. He craves the crunch.

He ate the flesh of several sapient beings. In several cases he knows it and the memory of ti makes him retch, even now when he is dead.

He likes dragons. He wants his own dreagonflight. (I have a headcanon abbout Sapphiron’s “Ivory” dragonflight of undead dragons.)

He has a saronite armour to match with the Bloodsurge. It decorates a ziggurat somewhere in Plaguelands. el’thuzad honestly doesn’t care. The armour has spikes on the inside, so if you put it on as a living being, you can’t take it off without bleeding out. A very emo move.

And I am tired now, so this will have to do for now. It’s not all of them, I am sure I haven’t thought of some area. But here we go.

[allthingsdancingonice]

We have our 10th Skating Couple for #DancingOnIce 2024 it’s Ryan Thomas & Amani Fancy

Aaron

[shadow--writer]

And I'm Gonna go There Free, Like the Fool I am and I'll Always be

How chaotic can one Shade with the ability to word get? just learned to do a fancy thing too look at me go

The answer is very. Will I make a series after this? Who knows it’s very tempting. God I should make a post about this au as well lol. I pounded this out in one sitting btw. (song btw). 

--Maeve x Lucas (WITH some Amani x Zora in there too bitches look at me)--Modern au but not fight club lol my own kinda modern au-ish--4.2k words holy shit--

TW: none!

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, tHEY ARE SO CUTE OMFG, Amani is a shithead, good lord I hope I got Zora’s character right, dancing, how much domestic fluff can I fit into one fic, FRIENDSHIP, dorks in love

In which dance lessons take a...different turn. Also Amani breaks into Maeve’s apartment and steals a barstool.

@mineshaft-birdie @dela-png

The day was a slow one. It was midafternoon and they had just finished up spring cleaning. 

She swayed her hips, humming along to the music playing. Lucas watched her from his spot on the couch, his off tune hum making her smile. She arched her back, leaning back with another sway. Her fingertips brushed the floor before she brought herself back up to her feet. 

He clapped making her giggle. “Amazing,” he said, a smile clear in just the tone of his voice. 

“I can teach you, you know,” she said, looking back at him. He held out a hand for her to grab, leading her to sit down on his lap. She straddled his hips, tucking her feet under his thighs. “How to dance, I mean,” she said, kissing his cheek. 

“You’ve seen me dance.”

“Exactly. You’ve seen me cook and yet you still try to help me. I want to do something for you in return.”

“Like teach me to dance?”

She leaned back, smiling. “Yeah! It’s fun. It’s great to let off steam, and it’s quite a workout. Besides I just...want to see you dance.”

“...I look like a dead fish a little kid is playing with.”

“Whoa that was specific.”

“...mmmmhm.”

She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. She was not going to ask.

She pushed up off his lap, shrugging her jacket off. He let out a low whistle, making her laugh as she tossed the jacket aside. 

“Didn’t know it would be this kind of dancing.”

“Oh hush.” She shot him a look over her shoulder, throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail. “Can you help me move our furniture? Unless you want to move to my studio?” Her aerial silks studio. Only reason she bought this apartment. 

That and the nice view (along with walking distance to work but shush). 

“...I might wreck your TV.”

“Studio it is then. If you want to get changed that’d be good too. Jeans aren’t uhh...the best to learn a dance in.”

He let out a low sigh before getting to his feet. “Studio?”

“Yeah I just need to clean it up a little.”

“...you’re not gonna back down from this, are you?”

“Nope! Now go change.” He ruffled her hair against her protests, steps heavy as he walked to their bedroom. “The shirt is optional!” she called after him. 

He snorted, yelling back. “So is yours!”

She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning, fixing her ponytail. She grabbed her phone, going over into the studio to pin up her silks. On her way she picked up a little green box from the table in the hall. That same table Lucas kept bumping his legs against. 

She giggled at the thought, feeling nerves and butterflies flutter in her stomach as she looked at the box. She told Amani about what she was planning to do and today felt...right. 

Shoving it in her pocket she went to pin her silks up. 

He walked into the studio by the time she was finishing pinning the last one. She knew he had walked in due to the laughter. 

So yeah maybe she was on her tiptoes on a ladder. 

Har de har har.

“You know if you needed help you could’ve just asked,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. She turned to look at him with a little huff, the ladder shaking under the abrupt movement. 

“Well I’m sorry I was cursed with being short.”

“You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m doing just fine thank you,” she sniffed, turning back around. She finished pinning the last silk, climbing down and putting the ladder back where it was. Smoothing down the front of her crop top she turned to look at him. 

“Okay now. That’s done, we can get into it!”

“...hurray.”

“Oh come on a little more pep please.”

“...hurray?”

“....that’ll have to do for now. Now where do you want to start?”

“Something easy?”

“...hmm wanna try mambo?”

“Is it easy?”

“Well not easy easy but it’s not that complicated. We can start with some of the simple movements, like the forward back step. If you’re feeling up for it I can also teach you how to dip.”

“Dip?”

She pursed her lips, walking back over to him. He had shed his jacket and opted for sweatpants. She was a little disappointed he still had his shirt on but she could wave it off. They both were in socks, making mambo a little harder but she was up for the challenge. 

“Here I can show you…” she said, grabbing his hands. He just watched her as she shifted one of his hands up on her shoulder, the other on her upper arm. She did her best to keep her hands on his upper back, leading him into a small side shuffle to lead into the dip. 

Keeping her body straight she shifted her weight into dipping him. His hands gripped her arm and shoulder, eyes widening. 

Good gravy was he heavy. 

“The hell are they feeding you?” she breathed. 

He blinked before laughing. “Ouch firefly, that stings.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting him back up. She let out a little huff of air as he kissed her softly. After pulling away he stood upright. “So that’s a dip. Think you’d be up for learning it?”

“It doesn’t seem super hard.”

She brightened. “It really isn’t! When you do dip me though, don’t lean close, it hurts my back.”

“Ah! Gotcha.”

“For now it’s forward backward mambo steps!” She grinned a little, adjusting the ribbon in her hair. He stared at it for a moment, the deep blue bringing out the darkness of her hair. She smiled, grabbing his hands again. 

“Where’d you get that?” he asked. 

“Aislin bought it for me a while back. Haven’t had the chance to wear it.”

“It’s beautiful on you.”

“O-Oh,” she stuttered, her cheeks warming. She ducked her head a little, embarrassed. She still wasn’t used to his out of the blue compliments even after being with him for so long. 

He coughed, squeezing her hands. “Dancing?”

“Yes! Right! Dancing!” she chirped, head snapping back up. Her brows were set with determination. 

She was going to get him to dance well. She would or she’d die trying. 

“So...where do we start?” he asked, just standing there awkwardly. 

“Well first with foot movements. Then hand placements. Put it together. Forward and back are the easiest steps, but it gets harder with more complex hand movements and spins.”

He looked horrified, she quickly cut back in. “For now though, forward and back. After you learn to dip me maybe we can learn side to side.” 

He nodded, a stubborn gleam sneaking into his eye.

“So first is how you move your feet.” She let go of his hands, moving to a spot in front of him. “We start on the second beat, and when we dance together we start on our right foot.”

She stepped forward on her right foot, brought it back to the middle with her left, back behind her, and finished by bringing it back to her left in the middle. 

“Oh that...doesn’t seem all that bad.”

“When you move faster it gets a little tricky, but yeah! Not super complicated. When you add the hips in…” she repeated what she did, but swaying her hips side to side along with her arms. “Now you try it with me!”

His movements were a little jerky, and he kept overstepping the middle but…

“You’re doing great!” she said with a large grin, backing up to set up music on her phone. Soft riffs of a guitar played as she shuffled her playlist.

“Can we...try it together?” he asked, eyes lighting up at her praise. He held a hand out for her to take. She walked closer to him, his hand warm and all encompassing around hers. 

“Sure. Arms.” He squeezed her hand once before letting it go and held his arms out. She lifted his left arm up, lacing their fingers together. She moved his other hand to the small of her back, resting her arm on top of his, not quite reaching his shoulders. One issue with a height difference was that dancing would be a pain. 

“Like this?” he asked, fingers tapping on her back. She squirmed a little at the touch, making him smile.

“Yeah! But not as tense,” she said, starting them off. He fell into it pretty quickly, what she dubbed his ‘focused face’ coming back into play. She felt a dopey smile climb across her face as she looked at him. 

When he got closer she shifted him back with a small glare. “Dance space, my love.” She let go of his arms to gesture. “This is mine.” She made a circle with her arms, he did the same. “That is yours.”

She grabbed his hands again. “No looking down,” she said with a giggle. “My eyes are up here. You can do this.”

They quickly fell into a rhythm, he was catching on quickly.

Then his arms got too loose. And he got very grabby, his hands traveling down south to her butt. 

“Noodle arms!” she gasped, moving her arm from his shoulder to swat his hand. “No wandering hands!” He pretended to pout, falling back into the dance again. 

He went in for a kiss, she moved her head so he got her chin and neck. His lips traveled down her neck as she squirmed, pushing at his chest with a laugh. “You are invading my dance space!”

She let go of him, pointing to her space again. “This is my dance space.” She pointed back to him. “That is yours. Let’s try it again.”

They went back to it for another moment, her eyes darting to her feet, before he tugged her closer, tilting her head up. “Don’t look down,” he said, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Look right at me.”

She snorted, stretching up on her toes to kiss his neck. “Hey now! Dance space!” he said with a laugh, pushing her back into position. His hair was escaping the little ponytail he had tied at the nape of his neck. She fought the urge to run her hands through it as it curled around his face in an adorable way. 

After their laughter quelled they settled into the movements. His tongue peaked out from between his lips as he concentrated, brows furrowed. He was slowly getting the loose but structured part of the arms, them moving in sync. 

Then ‘Toxic’ started blasting. She started humming along, lip syncing to it. He snorted, losing the rhythm a little as he watched her lose the mambo, moving her shoulders to the beat.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

“Very much, but you’re still ridiculous.”

She arched her back away from his hands, spinning out of his grip, lip syncing but with passion. He laughed, moving back closer to her. She held and shook her head at ‘spinning round and round’ as he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of her pants. 

“Do you feel me now?” she sang softly, smiling. He rolled his eyes once before kissing her. She giggled, swaying back and forth in his arms. 

“What’s up bitches!” someone yelled from behind them. They jumped apart, Lucas yanking his hands out of her belt loops, her tripping over her own feet, face burning crimson. Toxic still merrily played behind them. 

“Amani, you spooked them.”

“Good.”

Maeve spun to look at the intruders. Ah. Of course. Amani. Oh but Zora was with her. That was great. The only voice of reason in this fucking group had just broke into her house. Ah yes that bode well. 

Maeve rubbed her temples before cracking an eye open. “How the fuck did you get into my- ...is that a barstool from my kitchen?” 

“Yeah,” Amani replied with a shrug. 

“...you just broke into my apartment, grabbed a stool from my kitchen, and brought it into the studio with you?”

“Well there’s no other fuckin places to sit in this studio besides the floor and I’m not an animal!”

“...yeah. Sure.”

“Maeve!” Amani gasped, offended. 

“Well sweetheart, we did break into her apartment.”

“Not my fault she keeps the spare keys by her bed!”

“So that’s where they went!”

“...Zora I can’t believe you fed into this,” Lucas said once he got himself together from the embarrassment of being walked in on. “I thought you were the smart one.”

“Oh no I’m the one who acts smart but is the worst out of all of you.”

“WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!”

Amani had set the stool down and was sitting on it the way a man on the subway would sit. 

Aka Legs spread and looking like she was going to melt right off of it. Maeve could feel a headache coming on. 

“Was bored,” Amani offered. 

“...so you decided to commit a crime?”

“Yeah.” 

“Amani I’m gonna need a better answer than that for I am three seconds away from throwing you out a window.”

“Ouch Maevey that hurts.”

“One...two.”

“Got bored and decided to say hi. ‘Sides I brought the keys back.”

Maeve turned to look at Zora. Not the answer she wanted but it would do. “And you. What is your excuse?”

“Amani dragged me along. I was also bored.”

She turned to look at Lucas. “So these are the people we surround ourselves with?”

“Apparently.”

“Look without us you two would’ve been gettin it on in the studio. Woulda made a mess,” Amani cut it. Maeve felt her ears go red.

“We were not,” she sputtered. “I was teaching him to dance!”

“...uh huh.”

“That’s it!”

“It’s true! She’s teaching me mambo.”

“...can he actually dance it though?”

“Amani I’m hurt by that statement.”

“Well can he?”

“We’re learning forward backward steps Amani. He can’t mess those up.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Amani I thought we were friends!”

“Exactly.”

“Amani!”

Maeve snorted, looking over at Zora who was trying not to laugh. “Bored you say?”

“Well that and Amani just wanted to see you two.”

“...see us?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“Uhh to congratulate the happy couple on their engagement, duh.”

“Amani!” Zora hissed, gesturing to both of their very empty ring fingers. Amani didn’t see her girlfriend’s increasingly panicked hand movements. 

Maeve felt her heart stop and sink straight into her feet. All the colour drained from her and Lucas’s faces. 

“...engagement?” Lucas peeped. 

Amani watched their reactions, face growing more confused. “What? You did ask her, didn’t you?”

“...no.”

Amani’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Oh SHIT.”

Zora smacked her forehead. “Oy vey,” she muttered. “Amani, baby, I love you but-”

Maeve didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, she only turned to look at Lucas. He still looked broken, she swore she could hear dial up streaming from his ears. 

“Darling?” she asked softly. He turned to look at her, cheeks reddening. 

“I have something to tell you,” they both sputtered at the same time.

She blinked. “You first.” Again said at the same time. 

“No you,” she said.

“No no, yours sounds important.”

The box in her pocket grew heavier with every heartbeat. God damnit Amani. 

“Well I...um,” she looked away, fidgeting. She never really felt nervous like this but...it was a big moment. 

She turned to shoot a low glare at Amani who only offered up a small nervous smile. God fucking damnit. 

“Well I was planning on doing this while we were alone,” she huffed, looking back at Lucas. She shoved her hand in her pocket, trying to fight the stutter out of her voice. “But apparently we had two guests coming over.”

“Just get it over with- OW!” 

She looked just in time to see Zora elbow Amani in the side. Amani muttered bitterly about how that ‘fuckin hurt’. Zora only shot Maeve a smile and a thumbs up. 

While she appreciated the sentiment…

She looked back at her boyfriend, letting out a low sigh. “I love you.”

“...uh oh.”

“Oh hush you.” He chuckled. It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Fuck, I love you,” she whispered. He blinked, almost shell shocked. “I want to marry you,” she blurted out. 

“Yeah I love you- w-what?!”

She pursed her lips, letting out a little sigh. “Goddess I’m no good with words. Sometimes I wonder how I even got to date you. I’m blunt and mean and rude and vulgar but…” she dragged the box out of her pocket. “I managed to fall in love with a dumbass and a dork so it isn’t all that bad, right?”

“Maeve?”

“Holy fuck Lucas she’s asking you to spend the rest of your lives together!” Amani yelled from where she was sitting. 

No yelp, in fact Zora was nodding. The look Maeve shot her said all she needed to know. “What? Ami isn’t wrong.”

“You two are the worst,” Maeve groused. 

“You want to...marry me?” Lucas finally let out. 

She opened the box she was holding, rolling her eyes with a little smile. “Well yeah. After I kill Amani.”

“HEY!”

The ring itself was simple. It was only an engagement ring after all. Her grandfather made it a while back when she brought up the whole ‘getting married’ thing (he talked her ear off too. Her phone bill spiked). It was a silver band with a deep green stripe running through the middle. The green shimmered into something lighter when she moved it. 

“That’s funny,” he said, hand disappearing into the void that was his sweatpants’ pocket. He could shove both her and his hand in that thing. Of course she was jealous of it. 

He pulled out a ring. Not just any ring but her mother’s wedding ring. 

She felt tears well in her eyes. She had told him about it a while back when they first started dating. She didn’t know he remembered. The ring was a simple small silver band. It was braided into a celtic knot with a little turquoise at the top where the knots met. 

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” He shot her a lopsided grin, her heart skipped a beat. “I uhh...I’m also no good with words but I love you, firefly. Of course I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I fucking love you giant.”

“There she is. I was getting worried with all your sappy talk.”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed. 

“But I didn’t get an answer.”

“Neither did I.”

“Well mine is ‘of fucking course’.”

“Hey you stole my answer!”

He chuckled as she slid the ring onto his hand. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. My answer is yes.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“You stole what I was gonna say.”

He laughed again, kissing her knuckles as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “You love me.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t.”

“FUCKIN FINALLY!”

“Amani you’re the one that almost ruined it.” “I DON’T CARE!”

A little sigh. “Sometimes I wonder why I love you so much.”

“For my stellar personality obviously.”

Zora giggled, Maeve turned in time to see her plant a kiss on Amani’s cheek. “That and just because I love you.”

“I cannot believe Amani almost ruined this,” Lucas muttered. She turned back to him, laughing as she got closer. She grabbed his left hand with hers, liking how their rings glittered when they moved. He ran his thumb along her knuckles, pausing at the jewelry. 

She lifted her head up, him leaning down to kiss her. 

Then Amani started screeching like an alarm. “THIS IS THE PURITY UNTIL YOUR WEDDING NIGHT ALARM. No handholding of any kind.”

Maeve giggled, joining in on the tomfoolery. Lucas sighed. “No need to worry, I am pure. We haven’t even shared a kiss.” 

Oh yeah they all knew that was a fucking lie.

“Oh? Not one kiss?” Lucas asked, grinning. 

“Nope. My lips are innocent. Saving them for my wedding.”

He bent down close, surprising her with an open mouth kiss. She let out a little squeak as his tongue tapped her teeth once before he pulled away. “That good enough for a first kiss?”

“Well it was supposed to be on my wedding night but…” she smiled, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “It’ll do.”

Amani let out a dramatic gag. “You two are disgusting.”

“Imagine what they’d be doing if we weren’t here,” Zora said, love clear in her tone. 

Amani gasped. “You’re right! Defiling the name of marriage I say!”

“Oh like the two of you are any better,” Maeve shot back. “Do I have to recount the amount of times I’ve caught you two in the storage closet at the pub?”

Zora chuckled. “Well you and Lucas in the pantry aren’t any better.”

“Let’sjustcutitandsayifanyofuswerecaughtbyourbossatworkwe’dbefired,” Lucas sputtered out, face going red. 

“Aww, but baby I thought you liked the thrill,” Maeve cooed. 

He shot her a low glare. Amani cackled. “Degenerates!” she yelled. 

“Amani, my love, my sweetness. Pot. Calling. Kettle. Black,” Zora said.

Amani gasped, melting completely off the stool. “My own girlfriend! Betraying me! Oh woe is me! The agony!”

They all giggled at Amani’s actions, she and Lucas scooting closer together. He wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying back and forth. The music and dancing lessons were long forgotten. 

“How about we go out for dinner tonight,” Maeve offered. 

“What? Like a double date?” Amani asked from her spot on the floor. Zora was laughing too hard to help her up. 

“Hmm...no. More like a party!”

Amani’s eyes lit up. “HELL YEAH A PARTY! We gonna get smashed and cause chaos?”

“...well sure.”

“Fuck YEAH!”

“...you are making my life so much harder,” Zora sighed, smiling. She looked back at Maeve again. “Who knew a pip squeak like you could hold your liquor so well.”

“I am not that short!”

“I will beat you at one of those games Maevey!”

“Maeve, you are the shortest out of all of us. You look like a kid.”

Maeve pouted. “Yeah I can still drink you all under the table. Yes even you Amani Ms. ‘can’t-play-guitar-sober-but-somehow-can-drunk’.”

“OH SHUDDUP!”

Lucas laughed, squeezing Maeve’s hip before going over to squat by Amani. 

Zora walked over to the now abandoned Maeve. “Well...how are you feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna wake up any second?”

“That’s fair.”

“You think you and Amani will do this?”

“What?”

“Get married.”

Zora’s eyes remained on Lucas now crying about how gravity was increasing on him. Amani let out a squeal as he fell on top of her. 

“Well...maybe. I haven’t thought that far. I love Ami but who knows where our future lies.”

“A wedding with you two would be pretty chaotic.”

“Oh yes definitely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“LUCAS GET OFF ‘O ME YA SEMI TRUCK!”

“Amani that hurts my feelings!”

“GET OFF!”

“For that comment? No!”

Maeve and Zora giggled. “I am happy for you and Lucas. Sorry Amani almost ruined it, don’t think she realized.”

“Oh no I’m more mad about the fact you two broke into my apartment again. You should just take the key.”

“...you sure about giving us the key?”

Maeve sighed. “You’re gonna take it anyways. I can just get another spare made.”

“Amani is gonna take that as an invitation to come over as often as she can.”

“Good to know. My room locks will be changed.”

Zora snorted. “Once again, congrats. Sorry you had to do that infront of us.”

“Remind me to strangle Amani later.”

“...mmm fine but don’t wreck her pretty face.”

“Noted.”

“When are we gonna go! I wanna party!” Amani whined from where she weaseled out from underneath Lucas.

“You do realize this is a celebration of mine and Maeve’s engagement right?”

“Yeah it’s also an excuse to tell embarrassing stories.”

“...oh no.”

Maeve perked up. “Oho? Stuff I don’t know? Let’s go.”

“First we’re gonna give you a makeover,” Amani said, walking over to drag Maeve out of the studio. 

Zora untied her blue ribbon, handing it over to Lucas. “Milady’s token of her affection,” she said with a curtsy. Maeve’s protests went unheard. 

He bowed, making Zora smile. “I thank you for the token of her affection. I will treasure it always.”

“You better be planning to give that back later,” Maeve groaned as Amani dragged her away. 

“Depends. It is a token of my love’s favour.”

“Ugh I hate you.”

“But you’re still marrying me~”

She sighed. “Of course. How could I forget.” She looked back at Amani. “And the fuck are you doing?”

“Gods you need your ears checked. I am giving you a makeover for your engagement party.”

“What? Why?! I look fine!”

“Well the high waisted pants with your crop top is cute and all, I want to make you so fucking hot Lucas kneels over.”

“She does that every time I see her,” Lucas called from the doorframe. 

Maeve glared at him. “Don’t encourage her.”

He only smiled, waving at them as they made their way to her room. Zora was making sure Maeve wouldn’t escape. To her short ass it was like two very tall amazon ladies were her escorts. 

Or in this case prison guards. 

“I’d like to see them try to make you even more gorgeous,” he said with a wink. “It’d be a fun challenge.”

“We have Zora on our side!” Amani grinned. “You get dolled up too and then we go cause a ruckus!”

Maeve sighed. 

It was going to be a long, chaotic night. 

[airis-paris14]

Starlight 4

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who’s spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T’Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

1 || 2 || 3 || 4

“Sis, you are killing my dating life,” Madiyson whined as she and Amani cleaned the glasses at the bar. “I’m killing your dating life? It has to exist for me to kill it.” Amani murmured.

“Haha.” Madiyson threw her rag at the other waitress. “Look, you go to all these fancy parties, with rich eligible men, and you never invite me. Girl, you’re holding me back from my husband.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to go to those parties. All the men are old and boring, and they all want something from you.” Amani sighed and began hanging the wine glasses on the rack. “Yeah, some good lovin’.” Madiyson shimmied her way around the bar laughing.

“Oh my god.”

“So you’ve never met any young attractive guy at these parties?”

“Well….”

“Well?”

“Well, He’s the exception to the rule.” Amani sassed.

“See, I’m just asking for one chance. One party.”

“Fine fine,” Amani placed the last glass on the shelf. “Amare won’t be home for another month so you can go to the next party.”

“She’s not coming home for spring break?” Madiyson frowned.

“Nope, engineering conference with her school. In France.” Amani pouted.

“Yeah, I’d choose France over you too.” Madiyson teased.

“Shut up,” Amani pushed her. “This isn’t how you get the invite to this gala.”

“Now, you know I’m just messing with you girlie.” Madiyson hugged her friend.

“I know, but sometimes it just feels like she doesn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s a good thing! You’re not her mother, and you’re young. One day you’ll have kids and get to go through it all again. Except they’ll be infants this time and you won’t be in college.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Amani smiled.

“Aren’t I always? Now, tell me all about this exception to the rule guy.”

“What do you want to know?” It’d been three months since Amani had heard from T’Challa. Not even a text or letter. “Tell me anything,” Madiyson shrugged. “Well, he was attending our yearly investor gallery. He saved me from a boring conversation and we sat out on the balcony and talked all night.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it.” Amani turned back to putting the dishes away. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Madiyson accused.

“No, I told you everything that happened,” she fought to hold back a smile. “At the party at least,” Amani added. “Okay, so what happened after the party?” Madiyson prodded. “Well, before the party-”

“Before the party!” Madiyson exclaimed moving closer to her friend as a couple of guests looked over at the outburst. “Yes, before the party. You remember that table I handled for you when I got into work?”

“The one with the father? He’s the dude from the party?!”

“Yeah, his name is T’Challa.” Amani blushed. “Did he recognize you?” Madiyson bubbled, pulling Amani to sit in the break room with her. “Yes, and his daughter asked that I hang out with him the next day.”

“So y’all spent the day together?”

“And they both stayed the night.” Amani blushed. “Sis-” Madiyson started. “Then me and his daughter made breakfast and we went to the park.Then he asked me on a date, and they spent the night again.”

Madiyson stared open mouthed, “This was all a few months ago and you didn’t tell us?”

“Tell us what?” Sakura interjected as she walked into the breakroom from finishing her last table. “That she has a boyfriend who spent the night.” Madiyson smirked.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and his daughter was there too.” Sakura raised an eyebrow at Amani’s rebuttal. “Besides, there’s nothing to tell, I haven’t heard from him since they left.”

Sakura frowned, “They left?”

“They went back home, out of the country.” Amani explained. “That’s good news, he may just not know how to get intouch with you from his home country.” Madiyson offered. “I guess, but he still could have sent a letter or something.”

“Just give him a chance to explain himself,” Sakura encouraged. “Yeah, I just wish I knew something,” Amani sighed. “If you never hear from him again that’s his loss sis,” Madiyson hugged Amani.

After hustling through the rest of her shift, Amani finished cleaning her tables, hugged Madiyson and Sakura goodbye, and headed to pick up some dinner from her favorite burger joint. She hopped in line and placed her order. She had just pulled out her phone to pass time when a familiar voice invaded her senses. “Is that the heiress I see?” The king chuckled.

“Your majesty,” Amani bowed smiling in return, “You're back stateside.”

“Yep, Ada and I got in earlier this morning.” The king smiled. “Cool,” Amani smiled back before turning back to the pick up counter. “I also had a special someone that I promised to take out on a date.”

Amani raised an eyebrow, “She must be real special.” T’Challa smiled oblivious to her sarcasm, “You could say that.”

“I wonder if you called her like you didn’t call me,” Amani sassed. “T’Challa’s mouth dropped open slightly. Just as he went to respond one of the worker’s called Amani’s name. She walked away from him to grab her food. The king hurried after her, “Amani, I didn’t realize until we got home that I didn’t know how to reach you from out of the country.”

“And you couldn’t write a letter? Or call someone at the company that I own and ask for it?”Amani deadpanned as she walked towards the door, not stopping until T’Challa gently grabbed her wrist. “Amani, I am sorry. I didn’t think and that is obviously not an excuse, but I would still like to hang out with you.” Amani calmed slightly as she heard the sincerity coating his voice. “Please? Let me make it up to you?”

Amani nodded in response. “Great, are you free friday? At 8:00?”

The heiress smiled, “Yeah, I am.” T’Challa beamed, “I’ll pick you up?”

“Sounds like a date,” Amani winked, “I should let you get back to Ada.” The king glanced at the bag of food in his hands. “Why, don’t you join us for dinner tonight? She’s asked about you.”

“Oh, um..” Amani tried to quiet the leaping of her heart. T’Challa grabbed her hand, “We would both really enjoy your company Amani,” the king’s thumb traced soft circles on her wrist. “I’d love to,” Amani smiled back, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks, grateful that it wasn’t too noticeable on her skin. “Great, I can give you a ride or?”

“Oh, no I drove my own car. If you give me the address, I’m pretty sure I can find my way there.” Amani smiled, pulling out her phone. T’Challa gave her the address and they hurried off to their cars. Amani smiled as she noticed what hotel they were staying at. “St. Regis huh,” Amani chuckled as she pulled off. Along the way she stopped to grab something to drink, and a box of cookies from her favorite bakery, she text T’Challa that she was on her way before beginning the drive to the hotel. Within 25 minutes, She pulled up to the valet counter and handed over her keys. Amani walked into the lobby juggling her food, the cookies and a drink. She walked towards the elevator before realizing she didn’t know where she was going. Amani sighed and gingerly reached for her phone in her pocket. Just as she went to dial the king’s number, his name flashed across her screen. ROOM 1009. She chuckled knowing he’d read her mind.

Amani used the edge of her iphone to call for the elevator and began her ascent to the 10th floor. She hummed lightly to herself and prayed that she had read the room number right. The door dinged open and she walked out into the carpeted hallway. Her sneakers padded along the floor as she read the door numbers, relieved that she had gotten off at the right floor. She made her way down to the ninth and final door. She knocked and smiled to herself when she heard the rapid pattering of feet approach the door. T’Challa laughed, “Well, are you going to let me open the door for Ms. Amani or not princess?”

“Sorry baba,” Ada replied, her bouncing feet still audible through the door. The door handle clicked and Amani was welcomed into their penthouse suite. “I brought cookies!” The older sister grinned. The former prince shook his head as his daughter cheered beside him. T’Challa grabbed the cookie box from her hand and Amani followed them into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home with me if she’s too hyper,” Amani jokes slightly. “T’Challa smiled before grabbing her a plate from the cabinet. “Where’s my hug princess Ada,” Amani grinned scooping the little girl in her arms. “Hi, Mani!” the little girl squealed.

“How are you?” Amani asked, placing the little girl back on her feet. “I’m good, I missed you.”

“I missed you too princess,” Amani reached for her own food. “I’ll warm it up for you.” T’Challa offered. ��Thanks.” The two adults smiled at each other before Ada pulled Amani into the living room.

T’Challa’s heart melted at the sight in his living room. In just a few seconds Ada had pulled out all of her dolls for Amani to see. Amani sat on the floor in front of the couch greeting the doll princess Tiana. T’Challa cleared his throat, “I hope your royal highnesses do not mind my interruption, but I think that Ms. Okeke would like to eat her dinner.” Amani thanked the king as he handed her a plate with her burger and her drink.

“It’s okay baba, we were just going dress shopping for the ball,” Ada explained “The ball?” The king grinned, bending down to his daughter’s eye level. “Yeah, like the one we went to with Auntie Shuri and umakhulu.” Ada nodded excitedly. “Okay then,” the father sat back into the couch, “have fun.”

Amani took a bite out of her burger as the little girl collected her dolls and ran off. “Her first royal ball huh?”

The king nodded and sighed, “She grew up so fast. She got tired of being left out of ‘all the fun’.” Amani finished chewing before pulling herself up to sit on the couch. “You got any pictures?” The waitress finished her burger while the king scrolled through his phone. He held the phone up to her face once she was done.

“She looks adorable!” Amani squealed. “Her dress is so pretty!” On the phone, Ada was standing next to her father a smile stretching across her face. She and the king were matching in their black and gold. She wore a black halter-neck ball gown. The black silk was covered in delicate gold brocade and embellishments. Her hair was braided around the crown of her head, with a large gold halo tucked into her braids. “She’s so precious!”

“I know, she looks just like her mother,” the king smiled, Amani squeezed his hand. “You look pretty good too,” Amani playfully nudged his shoulder. “Thank you,” the king smiled putting away his phone.

“You want a cookie?” the heiress asked getting up from the soft couch. “Sure,” the king followed her into the kitchen. Amani popped open the box grabbing two chocolate chip cookies before popping the box in the oven.

“Did you work today?” The king bit into the warm cookie. “Yeah, unfortunately,”Amani groaned.

“You don’t like the work?” The king frowned. “I mean, the people are great, it's just tiring like anything.” Amani explained, finishing off her cookie. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you work? I am assuming your parent’s set you up well enough to thrive without a job?”

The king watched as Amani grabbed the cardboard box of cookies out of the oven once more. “They did, but I’ve always been independent. I used the money to pay off bills for the foreseeable future. We already owned the house here in Atlanta and I kept our vacation homes in South Carolina,Florida, Savannah, New Orleans, and LA. Used the money to continue paying the staff’s salary and put away money for Amare to go to school and start a life. Then I got a job to pay for youtubing equipment, travel, my car, and clothes.” Amani took all but four cookies out of the box and placed them on one of the white plates from the cabinet.

The king nodded, “You don’t have a passion job you’d like to start? Instead of waitressing at a job you don’t really like.”

“I mean, I’ve thought about starting my own luxury event planning company. You know, weddings, gala’s, balls, birthday parties, sleepovers, any event you can think of really.”

“What’s stopping you?” The king stole another cookie from the plate. “Nothing hypothetically, but I enjoy doing that stuff for fun. I think I’d want to throw my own event first. Kind of build up my own brand and relationship with contractors instead of just popping up out of the blue like that.”

“I think you should go for it. Get a job as an event planner for a company, work your way up or start as an independent contractor.” The king smiled. Amani tapped her fingers on the white marble countertops. “You’ve got this all figured out don’t you?”

“That is what the king does, solve problems.”

“What about you? Aren’t you very busy as a king?”

“I am,” the father replied, finishing off his cookie. “Isn’t it a little hard taking care of Ada and going about kingly duties? Doesn’t she have to have like a tutor and a nanny or something?”

“I only bring her on trips when I know I can take her with me to meetings. Not all of the kingly duties are boring. Like the ball, or charity appearances. That is most of my work this trip and she was on spring break, I believe it is called here.” T’Challa explained. “Oh, she’s in school?”

“Yes, she attends a very prestigious boarding school back in Wakanda.”

Amani looked up “ You send her away for school? Isn’t she just barely 5?”

“It is how things must be, her mother is no longer here to take care of her.”

Amani frowned, I think the nanny is a better option, don’t you think she misses her father while she is at school? A school with all these strangers?”

“She is fine Amani-”

“Have you ever asked her if she is fine, or if she likes it?”

“No, why should I have to. I am her father!”

“Because I was her T’Challa. My parents shipped me off to boarding school as soon as I was old enough to leave. Then they sent Amare right behind me!” I spent less that 5 years of time with my parents face to face before they died. Now they are gone.” Amani confessed, tears brewing in her eyes.

“I- I am sorry. I did not know that,” the king started. “I know you didn’t. I apologize for getting upset with you. I am not her parent, but as someone who grew up in that life, talk to her, come and see her. Make sure there isn’t another way for her to stay home. It would truly be for the best.” Amani sighed.

Silence choked the room, “I think I should go,” Amani stood up from the counter. “It is getting late, we have an extra guest room. You should spend the night here.” T’Challa offered.

“It’s only ten o’clock your majesty, I think I will make it home alright.” Amani teased. “Very well, at least, let me walk you downstairs. I’ll put Ada to sleep and come back out.”

Amani nodded her consent before taking a seat on the couch. Her phone lit up as T’Challa headed into Ada’s room. She pulled out the device and saw a new message from Madiyson.

Madiyson: Whatever you’re about to say no to, say yes sis!

Madiyson: Just thought you might need to hear that.

Amani: How’d you know I was making a decision?

Madiyson: Ohh so I was right?

Madiyson: What’s going on? Don’t keep me out of the loop!

Amani: I’ll tell you in the morning.

Madiyson: In the morning!

Madiyson: Girl who you gon be with in the morning!

Madiyson: You’re finally letting someone love you down!

Madiyson: Ohh sis! Tell me!

Amani smiled and put away her purse and set off down the hall to where T’Challa had gone. She peeked into a doorway where she found the king, conversing with his daughter. Amani stepped closer to the door and inadvertently pushed it open. Ada’s eyes shot up and a grin took over her face. “Mani! Baba is trying to make me go to bed but I’m not sleepy.” T’Challa looked up in surprise at her figure. “Well princess, if you don’t go to sleep, tomorrow won’t come and then we can’t hangout more.” Amani pouted. “Really?” Ada sighed.

“Really princess. Sleep makes the clock go faster and faster and speeds everything up so that tomorrow can come earlier.”

Ada looked to her father for confirmation. The king nodded his head and she sighed. “Okay. Thank you Mani.”

“No problem princess, just count backwards from the biggest number you can think of.”

“Goodnight Ada Ade,” T’Challa pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. “Good night baba,” the young princess smiled back. As the king led Amani out of the room Ada called out once more, “Good night Mani.”

“Good night princess.”

The king led Amani out of the room gently before shutting the door behind them. “I hope you don’t mind me staying, I-”

“I am glad you decided to stay,”The king reassured her. “Good, I figured I couldn’t really get to know you if one of us is always having to leave,” Amani chuckled, “even after an awkward conversation… I want to apologize again for what I said, I had no right to criticize how you choose to raise your daughter.”

“Please, do not apologize. I am glad you said what you said. People are normally too afraid to criticize any personal decisions I make. I am glad you stood up for what you thought was in her best interest and I will definitely be giving the matter more consideration.” The king promised.

“Oh, good.”

“Well, the night is still young. Would you like to watch a movie or something?” The king offered, clearing his throat and moving closer to the heiress. “Umm sure, I should probably run home and grab some clothes for tomorrow. I’m just a few minutes away.”

“Okay. I will set up a movie and order some more cookies or something,” the king replied.

“Cool,” Amani jogged down the hall and to the couch, “I’ll be right back,” she smiled before heading out the door.

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @dopegalkk @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @shesakillerkween @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr

[royal-shawn]

Like a Bird || soulmate!streetracer!shawn

anon said:  Can you please do a soulmate and street racer au please. I would love to have these combined if you could please do that. I love your writing!!!!!

Instead of doing a prompt from this, and partly because you all liked my badboy!shawn so much, I decided to make this a full-length fic, so enjoy!

-

A curse falls from my lips as I walk into Patty’s. A few guys were there, Jackets with a snake painted on the back, and they were sitting up by the bar. 

The club wasn’t extremely packed so I made my way to the bar and plopped myself on a stool, two seats away from the small gang. 

I watch as they get served their drinks before the bartender finds me. “What can I get you?” 

“A coke,” I order, smiling politely to the man behind the counter. 

“Anything in it?” He asks. 

I shake my head. “Just a coke.” 

“Coming up!” The bartender calls. 

Moments later, the fizzy drink was sat in front of me, in the fancy-looking but very cheap glass.

I slip the bartender the dollar I owe before watching. People dancing on the cracked wooden floor. The music pumping through the club was so loud, I could feel it in my heels. 

I sip my coke, trying to make the overpriced drink worth it. 

Some people on the dancefloor had pinkened cheeks, as they looked into their eyes of their soulmate. 

Their soulmate markings on show. A soulmate marking has to be a defining character trait of both of you. The rose on the blonde boy behind the counter meaning he’s a romantic of sorts, The tree on the wrist of one of the dancers meaning they’re probably family orientated or something. 

The bird on my ribcage meant I was a free spirit. My office job did not highlight that feature, one of the main reasons I hide it away. Other than the fact that my ex, who claimed to have the same mark as me after he saw mine online, was just an art student with an eye-liner pencil.

The post of my bird was taken down a long time ago and I haven’t worn a bikini since. 

“Hey.” A guy says as he sits beside me. “You seem lonely.” 

I smile tightly. “I’m okay.” 

“Hi Okay, I’m Shawn.” He says before promptly facepalming. “That was bad.” 

“Awful, actually.” I joke, turning to look at him. 

His hair was curly, a stray curl laying on his forehead. The leather pulled over his torso sitting semi-tight on his biceps. He was beautiful, and he looked at me the same way I was undoubtedly looking at him. 

“I’m Y/N.” I smile. “Nice to meet you, Shawn.”  

“Nice to meet you.” He smiles. 

I grin. “Do you dance?” 

“I don’t, I try to avoid it, I’m really bad.” He smiles. 

“Well, then do you want to stand outside? It’s loud and I want to get to know you better.” 

“That sounds delightful.” He smiles, standing and helping me up as well. 

As we walk out, the group of people wearing identical jackets to his hoot and holler. 

He raises a finger to flip them off, then puts it around my shoulder. 

We make our way into the slightly brisk night and lean against the wall. It smells like tobacco and marijuana, but Patty’s always does, it’s a trashy place with the cheapest drinks.

“So, do you have a soulmate?” Shawn asks, looking down at me. 

I exhale. “I do, but I haven’t found them yet,” I reply. “How about you?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ “And I don’t want to find them now, I’m young and I want to be free.” 

“Like a bird.” I point out, watching him carefully. 

He seems stunned for a second. “Where’s your mark?”

I point at my ribcage, under my breast, and to the left a little. “Right here.” 

Shawn points to his fingerless glove, where his thumb meets the rest of his hand. “Right here.” 

“I would show you but you’d have to buy me dinner first.” I grin. 

“Alright, what are you hungry for?” 

I laugh, but his serious stare continues. “Uh... Pizza?” 

“Right, well let’s go.”

-

I would say his car was nice would be a severe understatement. The engine was souped up, obvious by the way he drove quickly, well above the speed limit. I felt safe, he had obviously driven at high speeds before. 

A sharp honk caused Shawn to look out the window. 

Another more-than-nice car is beside us, revving its engine. 

Shawn curses before looking over at me. “I’ve been challenged.” 

“Challenged to what?” I ask, my fingers gliding across my seatbelt. 

“I take part in these street races. I make a lot from it, and it makes me feel free.” 

“Like a bird,” I whisper. 

“Like a bird.” He repeats, before revving his engine in return. 

The speed would scare me with anyone else, but with Shawn it made me feel alive. Like I was running through the park when I should be working, or on a rollercoaster.

It made me feel free. 

Like a bird.

-

Shawn wins and makes it look effortless, regardless, we end up in Tony’s Terrific Italian, the only place open that serves decent pizza. ;

After a brief silence, Shawn speaks up. “I’m sorry about the impromptu race.” 

“I liked it.” I reply, looking up at him. “It was thrilling.” 

“That’s why I do it.” He grins. “It’s thrilling.” 

“I would quit my day job but my bike doesn’t go too fast.” I joke. 

He grins. “You’d win against me.” 

“Only because you’d let me.” 

“I would never!” 

“Oh because a mountain bike could beat your car!” I retort sarcastically.

“It’s not that fast.” 

“We went like 200 mph back there.” I point. “I can go like 40 tops.” 

“Maybe I would let you in, but who wouldn’t let the prettiest girl win.” Shawn raises his eyebrows slightly. 

“I’d let you win.” I mimic his expression. 

We chat cheerfully while we finish the pizza, and after Shawn is the first to speak. 

“I bought you dinner, now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the deal.” 

-

The clock reads midnight when we reach Shawn’s and I sit on his beige couch while he changes and finds something for me to wear. 

He made it clear I would probably spend the night, even if he were to sleep on the couch. 

Shawn comes into the living area and throws me a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. 

“Should I change in the bathroom?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Just put the boxers under your dress, I’ll have to see you shirtless to see your mark.” 

I do as he says, turning around so he can unzip my dress. 

His warm fingers undo the zipper, and I step out of the dress. 

I don’t feel insecure as I turn around, baring myself to him. 

His eyes don’t immediately lock to my chest but to my mark. The Bird. 

I blush, as he steps forward, placing his hand under my mark. 

They seem to shimmer as they’re near each other. 

He looks up at me with adoration in his eyes. “We match.” 

“We’re soulmates.” 

He nods, wrapping his arm around me, pressing kisses on my lips and cheeks. 

The next morning we wake up together and just look at each other, entranced. 

“Hey, Soulmate.” I smile. 

“Hey Soulmate, I’m Shawn.” He jokes. 

I smile at the memory. “I have work.” 

“Forget work, you have me.” 

So I do, I quit my job and fly with Shawn. 

Free like a pair of birds.

@justanotherfangurl272 @sillylittlemary @iliveformarvel @madon566 @officiallyunofficialperson @min-amani