#but at least she and erik got to read plenty of stories! ;)

[britishchick09]

i laugh at rewrite eristine thinking that 'hunchback of notre dame' is long because their story has 498 pages...

but that has nothing on the grimm brothers!! :o

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

���Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

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[hyperpsychomaniac]

Lost In the Wilderness - Chapter 1

Hilda Fanfiction

Summary: Hilda goes on a Sparrow Scout camping trip, only to find that Ahlberg, along with Captain Gerda Gustav, is also attending. Ahlberg has yet to speak with Hilda about the events of the night the Trolls attacked Trolberg. He’s had plenty of chances to thank her, he hasn’t, and Hilda has just about had enough of it. She thinks her camp can't get any worse. Until she and Ahlberg get lost in the Wilderness together and must find their way home.

Author's notes: So, I have already posted this up on A03. But since I do not know exactly how many people click on things, I decided I'd just post the chapters here as well like I normally do. I'll keep posting the A03 link as well. (Also, not going to lie: I know I'm writing a fic with the character that a lot of people hate. So, I'm going to try roping in as many of you as I can with my (hopefully good) writing skills. 😎)

***

"Goodbye, Hilda. Have a good time at camp."

Hilda waved goodbye to her mother and then walked towards the Sparrow Scout camping grounds with her two friends. "He just keeps appearing places," she said, continuing her earlier conversation with Frida, "and he does everything to avoid talking to me. I suppose seeing him at the car yard that day made sense. Mum needed a new car after hers got crushed."

"And Erik Ahlberg was your salesman," Frida filled in. She'd already heard this story many times.

"Yeah! It didn't even sound like he knew much about cars. So, I don't know why they employed him. But that didn't stop him from talking a lot. Only none of it was about me stopping him from destroying a city." Hilda scowled. "But the library was just weird. Ahlberg doesn't seem like he should like libraries. Or, you know, any place where he might run into facts or a book that might tell him he's wrong or something."

"He did take off rather quickly when Kaisa gave him that book," Frida mused. "Maybe that was all he wanted?"

"He took off to avoid talking to me!" said Hilda. "I seriously doubt he wanted to read 'An Alternative History of Edmund Ahlberg'.

Frida shrugged. "If Kaisa gave it to him, maybe it was exactly what he needed. But, hey, at least you know you're not going to run into him at a Sparrow Scout camp, right?"

Every few months, the Sparrow Scouts would hold an open day so that any children thinking of joining could get a taste of what they did and decide if they wanted to join. This time, Raven Leader had decided they would hold it as an overnight camp. The turnout wasn't always great. But, today, there was a crowd of children and a couple of adults who, judging by the accompanying camping gear, were planning on staying the night.

"Ah, think again, guys," said David and pointed over to the huddle of excited children.

Amongst the clamour basked Erik Ahlberg. As he no longer worked for Safety Patrol, he wasn't strutting around in uniform. But instead, he wore a leather jacket with a fleecy collar and a flat cap. Like he'd ever be caught without a hat. Chest thrust out, he grinned ear to ear as children threw questions at him. "No, I can't show you my medal. Why, it's safe at home, amongst all my other awards! Oh, of course." He took a notebook off a girl and signed it with a flourish. She ran back to her mother with a squeal that made Hilda cringe.

"What is he doing here? Sparrow Scouts is supposed to be for people who care about what's out in the Wilderness." All Ahlberg had cared about was how the Trolls who lived there could make him famous! At least Hilda had managed to snap him out of that, or rather, the strange vision Trundle's eyeball induced had. But it hadn't scared him enough to stop him from taking the medal the city had offered him. Hilda didn't care about that in and of itself. A medal was just a hunk of metal. She simply couldn't understand how he felt good about accepting all that praise when nearly destroying the city had been partly his fault.

"Well," said Frida with a shrug, "other volunteers are staying too. I guess Raven Leader needed the help with so many children. Look, even Captain Gustav is here." She waved at the new Captain of the Safety Patrol.

Captain Gustav didn't notice. Whilst she was getting far less attention than Ahlberg, several children were still hanging around her. Including one girl, so small she barely looked old enough to join Sparrow Scouts, who was nearly pink in the face as Captain Gustav knelt to speak with her.

Hilda held no grudge about the woman being here. Apart from her probably being the reason Ahlberg was here too. From what she'd seen that day they had taken her out on patrol, Gerda was competent enough, doing something about the Trolls that had attacked them instead of just riling them up, as Ahlberg had. And, she had believed Hilda when she told Ahlberg about the Trolls' mother, ready to rise beneath the city of Trolberg. She'd stood up to Ahlberg that night too, and whilst it hadn't stopped him, Hilda had appreciated that she had supported her.

"I'm pretty sure there are only so many kids here because of him." Hilda folded her arms with a huff. "Look, even Trevor showed up. There's no way he's interested in Sparrow Scouts."

The obnoxious boy clamoured around with the other children, even shoving a smaller one out of the way. "Mr Ahlberg! I love how you showed those Trolls who's boss. Why'd you quit Safety Patrol?"

"Er…" Erik's voice faltered.

"Go on," said Hilda, "tell them you nearly destroyed an entire city."

The Raven Leader saved him from Hilda's imaginary confession. "Now, kids! Mr Ahlberg will be staying with us overnight. Along with Captain Gustav and the rest of our volunteers and potential recruits. There will be plenty of time for questions. But now, you need to set up your tents. Otherwise, you'll have nowhere to sleep. Sparrow Scouts, I want you to show our guests how it's done!"

The children dispersed, along with a forlorn-looking Trevor, who clearly did not want to set up tents.

"How am I supposed to enjoy camp now?" Hilda said, but it was to no one in particular, as both David and Frida had left her. They'd walked over to Gerda to say hello, leaving Hilda alone with her foul mood. She glared at Erik Ahlberg, who was now no longer surrounded by adoring fans.

Erik visibly stiffened as he met her gaze. "Ah, Hilda. Fancy seeing you here."

"Well, I am a Sparrow Scout, you know."

"Ah, yes, well…"

"What are you doing here?"

"Why helping, of course!" said Erik. His energy returned, much to Hilda's annoyance. "Gerda told me she had been invited to a Sparrow Scout camp but that your Raven Leader was not sure of the turnout she'd get. So we figured it might help to have someone here who would draw a crowd. Everyone's still a little excited about me saving Trolberg, you know."

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing you didn't tell them the truth about how that went down. For Sparrow Scouts, I mean." He'd had an excuse the last few times she'd seen him. Working and helping her mother choose a car. At the library, he'd 'had someplace he needed to be'. But here, Hilda already knew he was staying, and for the moment, there was no one else he should be speaking to. If he was going to do the right thing, this was his chance, and it was the last one Hilda was willing to give him.

"I, yes, well…" Erik rubbed at the back of his neck. "There's no need to complicate things, is there? Sometimes a simpler story that captures the… um… essence of what happened is best. To set things straight properly would be… complicated. It's just a bit of showmanship. It doesn't hurt anyone, and as you said, it's helping out your scouts. I guess the point is… hey, we both saved the city, right? And helped the Trolls. Pretty good result if you ask me. So, you know, good job and all that…" He reached out to pat her shoulder.

Hilda stepped out of his reach. "You didn't want to help the Trolls! You were only thinking about yourself. And you can't even…"

"Hilda!" Raven Leader waved her over. "Stop harassing Mr Ahlberg. I said there'd be time for questions later. Come help Frida set up your tent."

Erik cleared his throat and turned to the Raven Leader. "Oh, let me help you lift those boxes, I insist..." And he walked off.

Hilda stomped over to Frida's tent, where Gerda was helping set up in her absence. "How did you work with him?!"

Gerda winced and, despite Hilda not defining 'him', immediately glanced in Erik's direction. She chewed her lip. "With… much patience." She handed Frida a tent rod, then took Hilda by the shoulder and steered her aside. "It does pay off, eventually. Though I understand your frustration."

"You were there," said Hilda, lowering her voice. "You know what he nearly let happen that night."

"But it didn't. You got through to him, and I'm still unsure exactly how. But that does mean something, and to him as well."

"Well, he certainly hasn't bothered to tell me that." Hilda fixed Erik's broad back with a glare. He was now insisting on lifting some boxes that the Raven Leader could easily carry herself and acting like he was such a gentleman.

"He is trying, in his own way. I know he has a… difficult personality. But, what he nearly let happen that night was a big shock to him, and he'll act like it's not, but he's still working through a lot of that. So, give him a chance, ja?"

Hilda scowled. He'd had plenty of chances. The closest he'd come to an apology was just now, but that had still been a total brush off. "Well, at least I scared him a bit. I bet he didn't expect to see me here."

"Oh, he knew you'd be here."

"Huh?"

Gerda just smiled at her. "Come on. You can't let Frida set up this tent all by herself."

***

After dinner, the campers and helpers staying the night gathered around the campfire. First up, the Raven Leader went through some information for the newcomers about joining Sparrow Scouts and some of the activities they did. Then, she made the mistake of introducing Erik Ahlberg. He'd been talking for the last twenty minutes and had somehow stumbled onto the topic of what Hilda presumed to be his second favourite person - beside himself, of course - Edmund Ahlberg.

"You see, it wasn't just Trolls Edmund had to fight off. Which, it turns out, perhaps he had misunderstood. But other creatures too, far more wild and dangerous!"

"Like what?" a child asked, prompting Hilda to roll her eyes.

"All manner of things. Forrest giants, for one." Erik stood up and thrust out his chest, evidentially thinking his tall frame was a good enough demonstration of the massive creatures.

"More moody than dangerous…" Hilda muttered.

"… devious wood folk…"

"At worst, they're just rude."

"And vicious gnomes. As tall as two men!"

"You… you just made that one up."

"Why, yes, my mother told me many stories of Edmond's feats and the creatures he had to fight."

"Had?" Hilda huffed.

"But, the one I remember most, for it was the most terrifying," said Erik, shifting forward so that the firelight threw shadows across his face, "was the attack of the Black Hound."

A Black Hound, like Jellybean, whom Hilda had found in the city and helped escape from Safety Patrol. Of course, Ahlberg would think them dangerous. She rolled her eyes. "Oh no, a giant puppy." Still, no one took her comments on. Ahlberg was far too loud, too good at keeping the campers' attention.

Frida raised a hand. "You mean a Barghest? Sometimes kept as a guard dog for Trolls?"

"Known by many names. Yes!" said Erik, not missing a beat. "I see you've read 'The Trollberg guide to Beasts and Spirits'.

"Of course!" said Frida, brightening a little.

"Excellent book and marvellous illustrations!"

That he listened to? Maybe she should have put her hand up, but Hilda wasn't sure it would've worked so well for her sarcastic comments. She was reasonably sure Frida's was supposed to be sarcastic too, at least initially. But her friend seemed pleased with Ahlberg's enthusiastic response.

Frida's faint smile faded as she caught Hilda's glare. "What? No one else knows what I'm talking about when I mention that book. I mean, it overstates the dangers, and some of the facts are wrong, but… it's still an informative book. He probably likes all the pictures," she added, making Hilda smirk.

"Well, Edmond found one of these fearsome creatures sniffing around his camp. And then, the beast attacked! It ate almost a half dozen of his…"

"What?" a young girl squeaked.

The Raven Leader loudly cleared her throat.

Erik winced. "Um… food supplies! Which are incredibly important for survival when you're establishing a settlement. So, Edmund hunted the Hound down, and…" His chest puffed out as he paused for dramatic effect.

Hilda could not let the chance pass. "He killed it?" she said, this time easily heard in the silence of collectively held breaths. "It sounds like he did that a lot."

Erik deflated, and the finger he'd raised to deliver his ending slowly drooped in defeat. "Yes, well…"

"Hilda!" scolded one of the other Sparrow Scouts. "You spoiled the ending. Just because you've heard this story before…"

"Alright, stories are for after we've got through our main content," said the Raven Leader, seizing the opportunity. "You can ask Mr Ahlberg anything you want about the types of creatures that might eat… food supplies… after that."

"What about the Barghest?"

"Trolberg has the Safety Patrol to protect us from those sorts of things," Raven Leader explained. "Besides, Captain Gustav is here, and she won't let anything happen to you. Which leads us to our topic for tonight. Now, for those visiting, we've been bringing in people to talk about their work to help our Sparrow Scouts decide what they want to be when they grow up…"

Hilda rolled her eyes. She found the majority of the Sparrow Scout activities fun. But of late, Raven Leader made them sit down and listen to these talks. And she hadn't even picked anyone with exciting jobs! Instead, they all seemed to include sitting at a desk and responsibility. Hilda had had just about enough of it.

"And this is why Captain Gustav is here. She's going to tell us all about Safety Patrol."

"Will you tell us how we can kill Black Hounds in Safety Patrol?" asked one of the children. "Captain!" he added as if he might get in trouble.

Gerda smiled. "Well, like the Trolls, I think we've learned that not everything in the Wilderness is out to kill us. We need to try to understand the creatures around us and document with the proper paperwork..."

This time, Hilda forced herself to suppress the eye-roll, mainly because it wasn't fair to Captain Gustav. Safety Patrol may not have been for her. Her trip in the dirigible had told her that much. Even though that had not been behind a desk, it had still been lots of running around with notepads, talking, and taking photographs that made it look like you were doing something when you were doing nothing useful at all. And deliberately aggravating Trolls. Although, that had all been Ahlberg.

With Captain Gustav in charge, Safety Patrol seemed like it had taken a turn for the better. Hopefully, one of the other kids would get something out of this particular talk. If she'd known there would be talk of paperwork, she would have invited Alfur.

"When I grow up!" interrupted the youngest little girl, who had been talking to Captain Gustav earlier, "I want to be the boss, just like Gerda!"

"Bethany, please sit down," said Raven Leader, calmly but firmly. "We'll have time for questions…"

"Sorry! Captain Gerda!"

Another child stood up. "I want to be a race car driver!"

"I want to be a Bag… Barg… a Black Hound!"

All the interrupters wore civilian clothes and evidently did not understand how this worked. Hilda grinned at their excitement, and some of her foul mood lifted. Gerda was smiling good-naturally, waiting for them to calm down, although the Raven Leader looked a little stressed.

But Ahlberg, who had shut up when Captain Gustav started speaking, had a deepening frown on his face, his eyes narrowing at the rising high-pitched voices, until he stood bolt upright, the motion startling the children who sat next to him. "Now see here!" he said loudly, breaking up the chorus of 'I want to be…' quite quickly, "Captain Gustav is talking. And if any of you want to have a hope of making it in Safety Patrol under her leadership, I suggest you be quiet and listen!"

The children were silent. Someone coughed. Another child harshly whispered they should shut up.

"Erik," said Gerda with a laugh, "Maybe you should have been my deputy."

The tension left Erik's shoulders, and he smiled faintly. "What utter nonsense. You know I would have completely messed up your paperwork."

"I don't want to hear about Safety Patrol!" Trevor stood up on his log, thrusting out his chest in a mirror of the pose Ahlberg had held a moment before. "I only came to this stinking camp to see Erik Ahlberg. I want to hear all about him and how he led Safety Patrol. Because you know what I want to be when I grow up?"

"Less of a pain, I hope," said Hilda.

Some of the other children giggled.

"No!" said Trevor, undeterred. "I want to be a Troll Slayer!"

"Heh," said Erik. "Well, I'm afraid you missed your chance. Or did you forget we have an alliance with the Trolls now?"

"That's not what you said before! You said Trolls were dangerous! You said you'd keep them out of our city!"

"Well, he was wrong," said Hilda. "You're being stupid, Trevor. If they were dangerous, letting them into the city would have been dangerous. But they did nothing. They just wanted to visit their mother. And then they left."

"Sure, that's what they told us. I assume. Because we can't understand all those growls and grunts at all! And…"

Hilda caught Ahlberg looking at her, almost gratefully. She was distracting Trevor and taking the heat off of him. And he just… he didn't deserve that. Her eyes narrowed. "Go on, Mr Ahlberg," she said, cutting harshly over Trevor's rant. "Explain to Trevor why you changed your mind."

Erik gulped and glanced side to side like a Deerfox caught in the headlights. "I… well… it was just that…"

Hilda folded her arms tight over her chest. She'd helped him! And he couldn't even admit it. Well, there wasn't a city at stake now. She'd love to keep arguing with Trevor. But this time, Erik Ahlberg could look out for himself.

Trevor groaned with frustration. "Just tell us what happened! I want to hear an interesting story. But you're not even a hero, are you? You just let the Trolls in, and then you took your medal and retired, and… and you let a girl take your job!"

"Trevor!" said the Raven Leader. "Captain, I'm sorry. Our actual Sparrow Scouts…"

Gerda held up a hand, cutting short the other woman's apology. "You know, a few Patrol officers had that attitude around when I started working. Now they staple my paperwork."

Trevor stomped his foot. "It's not fair! Mr Ahlberg got to kill a massive Troll. It attacked our home and knocked down our wall. The city should have given you a medal for that. Not letting them in. So, if I'm not going to get to do it anymore, you can at least tell us the story about how you killed that Troll!"

Erik's hands tensed at his sides. "That Troll…" he said, his voice strained. "Only wanted to see his mother." And he turned on his heel and stalked away from the fire.

"Erik…" Gerda sighed, then scrambled to her feet and followed him. "Wait."

Raven Leader raised a finger, and then her shoulders slumped. "Well. So much for that."

***

Chapter 2

[awackyphdinadorkable]

Cherik Moodboard - The Snow Queen AU

Charles and Erik were the best of friends ever since they were small children. They didn’t just grow up together, but they also learned to master their special abilities together. Erik and his mother live in a small house just down the road, so Edie does not have to travel far to manage the gardens and all the flowers at Westchester.

These days, Erik helps his mother as best as he can, which, of course, always gives plenty of opportunity for him to spend time with his best friend to play chess or get drunk on Charles’s late step-father’s fine selection of drinks.

Now short before coming of age, Charles can finally claim ownership over his family’s estate and transform it into a school for the likes of them. Their dream is just within reach. A place for themselves, where others can hone their skills, unafraid of what others may think of them.

But a tragic accident during winter leads to Edie’s death, which leaves Erik petrified. Charles tries his best to console his friend, but even with his abilities, he doesn’t know how to help Erik look towards a brighter future to regain hope. Instead, Erik grows more and more obsessed with snowflakes and old stories.

After a night of heavy drinking to numb the pain together, Erik sneaks out into the night while Charles is fast asleep. Erik is visited by a beautiful woman made of ice, just like in his mother’s tales. The Snow Queen. She offers him a life of no pain, no suffering. Erik feels more than tempted to go with her, but when he hears Charles calling out to him, the Queen is already gone by the time he turns back around.

Wind picks up and something flies into his eyes, making his eyes burn with unshed tears. Charles ushers Erik back inside, and for the first time in a long time, Erik swats his friend’s hand away, arguing that he has no need for help.

In the days to come, Erik grows more and more irritated with Charles and his constant talk about the school, the dream. Was it ever truly his dream or was he just trying to please Charles? Erik is no longer sure. What if Charles went too far into his head to plant that seed there? What if he was a fool to ever trust him? People don’t accept them now, why would they ever change their mind? They are all the same in the end, aren’t they?

But whenever he addresses those matters to Charles, he just feels his heart clench with cold, seeing the other man’s sadness and disappointment. Most of these days, Erik wished Charles just left him alone, that everyone just left him alone so he could watch the snowflakes. When Erik goes to see his mother’s grave, he is visited by the Snow Queen again. She kisses him and he doesn't feel the cold anymore. The Queen offers to kiss him another time, to forget all this, all the people who’ve caused him suffering.

“And then everything will be in order again. Like snowflakes.”

Erik agrees and she kisses him another time. And just like that, his mother fades from his mind, Charles does. There is just endless white and the Queen guiding him to a sled of ice taking him away from a world that won’t ever accept him.

When Charles realizes that Erik is gone, he is desperate to find him. But no matter how far he reaches with his mind, he can’t detect him. Charles is in despair. His best friend is somewhere out there, and he can’t get to him. He can’t help him. Just what is he supposed to do?

In the nights that follow, Charles continues to be plagued by nightmares. Strange visions of a broken mirror dipped in blood. A castle made of ice. And inside it he sees Erik bowing to a woman wearing a crown made of ice. At first, he thinks this is just his mind playing tricks on him, the way it was when he didn’t yet know of his abilities and thought he was going mad.

Until Erik helped him see that he was, in fact, not mad. That the voices inside his head weren’t his own but of those around him.

When Charles passes by a river, thinking back to how they used to bathe in it as children, the images come back to him, like lightning striking in his head. Charles collapses into a wooden boat and blacks out, though the boat, without anyone’s doing sets sail. By the time he awakens, Charles finds himself far away from home in a boat sailing on its own accord.

Before he can sink into despair, he can feel the faintest of brushes of a familiar mind against his. Erik. He is closer to Erik now. He can feel him, however faint, but he can feel him. He isn’t dead. He is out there. And that means there is still hope.

The boat eventually finds its landing place in a faraway place Charles wouldn’t know how to find on a map, if he even had one with him. He wanders through the woods aimlessly until he stumbles upon a house guarded by a blue beast. Though Charles can tell at once that the beast is also a man, is someone like him and Erik.

As it turns out, Hank and Raven have taken refuge in this cottage after an experiment of his gone wrong. He worked on a way to rid himself of the abnormal appearance of his feet, only to amplify the effect and turn into a beast whenever angered or in danger. Raven possesses similar powers, able to change appearance at will. The two have since lost hope in humankind to ever accept them. They have also heard of the Snow Queen who seemingly wants to rally against humans.

Raven offers Charles to stay with them, but he kindly refuses. He has to find Erik, he has to bring him back home. Hank offers to accompany him, but Charles also refuses that offer, because he knows that finding Erik is his responsibility alone.

“But you will always be welcome in my home, as you welcomed me into yours. Together, we may be able to change the face of the world, not today, not tomorrow, but so long we haven’t given up, the chance is still there that the day will come.”

Better equipped for the cold awaiting him further up north thanks to Raven and Hank, Charles continues his quest to the castle made of ice. He lets himself be guided by the fragments of memories the Queen could not take away from Erik even with her second kiss. Because even if she stripped Erik of his memories, he is still there. Charles can still sense his light, and that will guide him to his best friend, no doubt.

But when he reaches the place he can feel Erik’s mind the strongest, he finds nothing but a frozen lake. No castle. Nothing except for ice and snow. Exhausted and discouraged, he collapses onto the ice, calling out to Erik, though he knows he can’t hear him.

Or can he?

When he opens his eyes again, Charles finds himself near a warm hearth inside a small cabin. A grumpy man greets him, putting on more wood for the fire. The man’s name is Logan, and for some strange reason, he seems to know Charles, even though Charles doesn’t know him. Even stranger so, he can’t sense the man’s mind, although he is sitting right next to him.

“That was by your own design.”

“I didn’t ever meet you.”

“Not in this world, but in the world I came from.”

“Another world?”

“You can read minds, and made it all this way to here alive. Don’t act as though this was the strangest thing you’ve heard or seen thus far.”

Logan begins to recall his time “on the other side of the mirror”. The Snow Queen with the aid of the mirror image of Erik, nearly succeeded in destroying all good in their world by completing a mirror that had burst into a billion pieces.

“The devil’s work if you asked me. But no one knows who’s made the mirror. I just know what it did to my friends. It made them angry, sad, cold. Until they saw no good in the world anymore and fell into despair. A world without hope… is really without hope. You were right about that all along.”

In a last effort to save their world, Charles with the aid of his pupils and Logan set out to fight the Snow Queen, a woman with special abilities much like Charles’s. But with Erik’s aid of completing the frame to hold the mirror in its place, their efforts were near in vain.

“I watched my friends turn to snow. I watched them fade away. Kitty and you came up with a way for me to cross the threshold to the other world, this world here. I heal fast.  I don’t get killed… so I took a shard of the mirror with me.”

He shows a scar on his abdomen. “The Snow Queen wants to complete the mirror in this world because she can’t complete it in the other. Because I have the last piece. You managed to hide me from her eyes. Only if I were to face her would she recognize me.”

“But she can complete the mirror in this world, if Erik sets the frame.”

“Yes, because the other me, the one belonging to this world… he is asleep, if you will, out of reach. And even if not, the moment I faced her and tried to break the mirror like I did last time… it would mean the end of all good in this world. I no longer have the claws to cut it. I had to leave those, too.”

“So there is no hope?”

“There is always hope. At least so long you don’t give up. If unleash your mind, if you let your abilities out, which I know you’ve learned to keep in check over the years, you will possess a power even greater than hers. You are the only hope we’ve got left. So you better make this work, or else I will be very angry with you.”

“But I can’t even find the castle.”

“Because you’ve only looked at it from one side.”

It is then that Charles understands what he has to do. He goes back to the frozen lake and cuts a hole into the ice. He dives into the dark waters below, and once again lets himself be guided by the faint light at the end of it, Erik.

When he lifts his head above the water again, he finds himself in the Snow Queen’s castle. Charles knows now that he has to do whatever it takes not just to save Erik, but everyone else who dares to put hope in him. Even if that means going to the edge of the world and further still. But will he succeed? Or will eternal winter be the end of all hope?

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

Author’s Note: Here’s my little Christmas gift to a fandom that is also very much a gift. Happy holidays and much love!

[unexpectedreylo]

Congratulations, You Played Yourself?  Why We Didn’t See TROS Coming

I read a great meta by @ariainstars​ and it inspired me to finally address something I’d been meaning to write about since TROS came out.  How were so many smart Reylo fans and Bendemptionists convinced things were going to turn out with a happy ending, Rey and Ben riding off into the sunset, when JJerio as well as fired writer Colin Trevorrow clearly had other ideas?  

This isn’t a defense of TROS or its spin-out-and-crash ending.  I still think Ben’s fate was totally mishandled and it leaves DLF with the choice of a) never addressing the post-ST galaxy or b) resurrecting Ben from the dead in one form or another.  (When that will happen is of course a mystery.  My guess is not for at least not another decade.)  Returning to Rey Whateverherlastnameis without Ben is to dig their hole deeper, especially since I think the pop culture gods will determine that Ben’s departure was premature and unlike the deaths of Boba Fett or Darth Maul, materially damaging to the overall story.

This is an object lesson though in how fans and creators can end up on different pages and also how creators underestimate the power of their own work. 

I thought that death was always on the table for Ben but TLJ’s compassionate treatment of the character and his relationship with Rey as well as piles of well thought-out metas convinced me he was going to survive.  I was sure they were going for an unabashedly happy ending because it was the last film (not simply because it was Disney) and they would want to go out on an up note.  I didn’t think a Dead Ben would end things happily (and really I was right...the air gets sucked out of the movie the second he abruptly dies).  I also didn’t think they would solve the Skywalker problem by tacking the name onto Rey at the very end of the movie (sigh).

I think the fundamental problem was highlighted in @ariainstars​‘s meta:  many thought we were getting Pride And Prejudice or 50 Shades Of Grey while they were riffing off of Phantom Of The Opera.  All of those stories are variations of La Belle Et La Bete, Beauty And The Beast.  POTO though ends tragically because Erik is too much of an outcast and his crimes are too terrible.  @ariainstars​ states that Kylo/Ben was always doomed because he’d killed his father.  A happily ever after was never going to be possible for him.

Why did so many of us reject the idea that killing Han meant Ben had to die in TROS?  Because a lot of sequel fans grew up with Asian and Asian-influenced media, namely anime, manga, and shows like Avatar:  The Last Airbender or Dragon Ball Z.  Serious crimes weren’t necessarily bars to redemption or a happily-ever-after.  There were and still are lots of comparisons between Kylo/Ben and Prince Zuko, who was redeemed, survived, and marries (though not Katara).  Dragon Ball Z’s former villain Vegeta sacrifices himself but is allowed to return to his body and he gets to be in love with Bulma.

JJerio and Trevorrow though didn’t grow up with that stuff.  They grew up with Star Wars and everything else Hollywood produced in the ‘60s-’90s.  While I’m pretty sure Rian Johnson would’ve sold it better if he’d directed and wrote IX, I am not sure if Johnson would’ve let Ben get a happily ever after either.  While Star Wars always had an Eastern influence, it still is very much a product of the West and all it entails.  

Maybe the trouble with Ben’s arc is Abrams and Kasdan deciding he had to kill Han Solo.  When I saw TFA, my first thought was Kylo would redeem himself in the last movie but he was toast.  Which is too bad, because you doom your character in the very first movie and that’s not fun.  TLJ then only offered false hope that this would not be the case.  I get that Johnson was making redemption credible but either he was too optimistic that whoever followed him would consider letting Ben live or he unwittingly oversold Ben to the point where you not only wanted him redeemed, you wanted him to survive so he’d have a chance to be happy and free.  (And of course that Rey would have lasting companionship with an equal.)

Another reason why we thought we’d get a happily-ever-after is because Kylo/Ben was the son of Han and Leia and the only Skywalker scion, this meant he was somehow bulletproof and his importance in the story was only going to grow.  Adding to this assumption is Rian Johnson referring to Ben and Rey as co-protagonists.  But to Abrams and company, these movies weren’t about Ben.  This was Rey’s story and in case you don’t understand that, she appears in nearly every scene in TROS.  While Kylo/Ben leaves a big impression, if you pay attention you’ll notice he gets less screen time in the movies than guys like Poe or Finn.  To those who made TROS, Kylo/Ben was little more than a foil, a catalyst for their heroine.  He was supposed to be Darth Vader to Rey’s Luke Skywalker.  (If you want to understand why some fans who clearly aren’t TFM types don’t like these movies, there’s your answer...the Skywalker family got sidelined in the last third of their own saga.)

Perhaps though there’s another simple answer and that is fans are great at being in denial.  If we want a certain outcome, we’re going to bet the farm on it.  Soon among a subset of fans, it’s practically a tenet of being a part of that subset.  This led to what I call following “signs and wonders,” fans believing there are secret codes they were putting out to reassure us we were going to get what we wanted.  I”m seeing a lot of that now with regard to Ben returning, though I don’t buy they are really giving it much thought right now.

Reylos correctly predicted that Ben would turn and there would be some acknowledgement of the attraction between Rey and Ben.  We actually got most of it right.  But Ben’s death wasn’t an outcome most Reylos entertained to any extent.  There were fans who predicted Ben’s demise but they didn’t talk about it very much and those metas weren’t as enthusiastically shared.   Why?  We didn’t want it to happen and we didn’t want to think about its possibility.

Whatever JJerrio’s and Lucasfilm’s intentions, Ben Solo was a character who had escaped.  I guess everyone knew Kylo Ren was going to be popular and iconic but those guys severely underestimated his power.  It’s due to the mystique built up in TFA, the revelation of his humanity in TLJ, being the last Skywalker, and his relationship with Rey over the course of the films, all expertly performed by someone who always brings his A game and had plenty of charisma to spare.  Some sympathetic story groupers added further pathos to his back story in various comics and novels.  He, like the cinnamon roll The Onion made famous, was too pure for this world.

Moreover, they severely underestimated the power of Reylo.  They unwittingly tapped into something primal and mythic with those two.  Nobody could’ve foreseen their incredible chemistry and they didn’t fully understand or appreciate  how epic the pairing truly was.  Or at least those not named “Rian Johnson.”  But many in the audience could see it.  There was a lot in the media about Reylo.  The two times I saw TROS in the theater people applauded when Rey and Ben kissed. It was the gas in the ST’s tank.

That’s why we bought it.  It’s amazing to me how often studios, filmmakers, and show runners miss this stuff while fans keep expecting a different outcome.

[youcantkillamutant]

Earn It

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary:  Some things have to be earned

Warnings: Cursing (Is ‘hell’ a bad word anymore?)

Words: 1.6K

A/N: Joining in on the Quarantine Writing challenge hosted by the lovely @shaekingshitup & @chaneajoyyy. Thank y’all for getting me writing in this time of corn teen lol. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

Listening To: Earned It Instrumental By The Weeknd, Earned It by Jasmine Thompson, When I Get My Hands On You by The New Basement Tapes

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Tea, check. KimoyoPad, check. Earbuds, check. Blue-light glasses, check. Kay had everything she needed. The sun was streaming through her office pod in the palace, window open to let in the breeze, but something was missing. Ideas. She needed ideas. After working on this project for a week straight, Kay discovered that she had no more inventive energy. All of her creations had been wrung out of her within the week, and now she sat at her desk, pouring over everything she had imagined, and it just wasn’t working.

She’d bought a few more hours to pull something together to present to Shuri and the board, but the clock was ticking and she wasn’t getting anywhere. Kay pushed away her KPad. Seeking out distraction would only make her feel worse, only remind her of the work she wasn’t doing.

To be fair, Kay had been particularly hard on herself during the work on this project and she knew it. Shuri and the other girls in the lab had noticed it. Feared it is probably more accurate. when Kay asked Shuri for a few more hours on the presentation, she was met with wide eyes and furious nods. And Kay couldn’t figure out why exactly she was wound so tight about this, but it felt important.

It was her first presentation in Wakanda that she’d make without training wheels. No project lead to report to, just her. When Shuri and the Board had approved her initial proposal, she’d been elated. Called everyone back home in the States to report that after 8 whole months working in Wakanda she’d finally scored her own project. It was exciting, even when the work set in she was excited, but now, a month later and three-quarters a preliminary presentation complete, Kay had to wonder why she’d wanted to do this in the first place.

It wasn’t like she had a ton of work to finish for the presentation anyways. But the part she had to finish just wouldn’t come. She’d been brainstorming for the last week on this portion of the project and she could barely string two sentences together for the presentation because there was nothing. Just as Kay was about to go give herself a bathroom break in which she would stare at herself in the mirror for ten to fifteen minutes, the door to her office pod slid open. Crap.

“Shuri, I thought we agreed that you’d give me at least three hours to go over these—”, Kay stopped short when her earbuds were out. A warm breath brushed over Kay’s shoulder, she knew it wasn’t Shuri. Great.

“N’Jadaka. I thought you were on a diplomatic mission with the Jabari.” Clove and honey floated to her senses, mingling with sand and oak; N’Jadaka’s scent wafting through the air.

“Keeping tabs on me Kay? I’m touched.” He huffed another breath over Kayana’s cheek, so close he could kiss it. Kay didn’t bother answering. Blowing out a breath instead, so get N’Jadaka’s smell out of her mouth.

Ever since she’d come to Wakanda N’Jadaka had been…overly familiar. Maybe it’s because they were the only Americans in Wakanda, but Kay didn’t spend five years doubling majoring in architecture and agriculture to be distracted by a lost prince. especially not on her first big presentation.

“Don’t flatter yourself N’Jadaka. I read the daily news blasts.” Kay waved her right wrist, heavy and strong with the kimoyo beads she’d received her first week working with Shuri.

“Everything is easier with these, I promise! It’s synced with your Pad so you’ll never have to worry about lost files. You’ll be able to chat with me, send video messages about the site visits and…”

“She reads! I knew you were smart. Could tell by the way you—” Kay shot him a sharp look then, one brow raised, daring him to go on.

Around Kayana, N’Jadaka Udaku had a knack for saying the wrong thing. Well in her opinion. All the girls she worked with in the lab and in the field utterly adored the man, but to Kay he was a pompous, arrogant, admittedly smart but incredibly irritating Golden State Warriors fan. Another glance at Kay told Erik to move onto another subject.

“I thought I told you to call me Erik?”

“I thought I told you to call me Ms. Benton.” Another gust of air, this one followed by a kiss of his teeth. Kay could just barely see it in her periphery. Pink tongue caressing his pearly whites before being swallowed by gleaming gold canines.

“Fine Ms. Benton. What are you working on then, Girl Wonder?”

“That’s your cousin’s name.” Erik rounded the table and pulled a chair out smoothly, settling into it and gazing at her expectantly. “I’m working on the proofs for a few smaller eco-house concepts. We’ve got the ecology of it down, solar panels, self venting spaces, and recycled fibers are easy enough to incorporate, but it’s just the…size.”

“What about it?” Kay ignored the way her stomach flipped when N’Jadaka’s face scrunched together in confusion. She’d been doing that for weeks.

“Do you know how difficult it is to turn a 20 meter space into a fully functioning apartment? I mean, sleeping quarters, laundry, kitchen, and living area. Not to mention it should all be ‘mod-chic’ or whatever brief T’Challa gave to the Board. Shuri was supposed to send someone from product development to help me but—” Kay caught sight of Erik’s grin. Her stomach flipped again and she backpedalled. “But I’m sure I can handle this. I probably don’t need help anyways.”

“Now come on Ms. Benton, you were practically begging for help.”

“I can’t imagine why Shuri would send you.” Any time the two had to work in the same vicinity, Erik spent most of his time trying to distract her and no time on whatever it was he was meant to be doing. After her first week, she’d actually never seen Erik in the lab again. According to Shuri, he wasn’t allowed in anymore.

“I’m the last one to say men and women should be separated, but my cousin…well he’s not helped his case much. Besides, T’Challa’s been gunning for his own lab near the top of the palace, this’ll make things easier for everyone. For now at least.”

N’Jadaka had found his way to Kay outside of the lab; sliding into the seat across from her at lunches, and always suspiciously on her off-site trips, trying to play tour guide. Initially she felt annoyed, she didn’t need a tour guide to do her job. Now-a-days, she was feeling a little different anytime N’Jadaka found her. He was getting to her, as much as she hates to admit it.

“Because I’m probably the only person who’s lived in a 20 meter apartment in this country. Seriously, I know how to live small Kay.” Kayana shot him a glare for the nickname and tried to ignore how genuine he sounded. Erik smirked at the way her lip curled in annoyance. He’d always found that cute.

Kay wasn’t stupid, she’d heard the stories about King N’Jadaka. Ruthless, power-hungry, practically foaming at the mouth for control. It was why she’d avoided him in the first place. But this N’Jadaka was nothing like the stories. He was kind of nice. Still cocky and arrogant, but surprisingly sincere. At least he was with her.

“The key to this is to break up the space. That and you’ve got to use any and every piece of furniture as storage. Hell, use the space under the steps as storage. If something in the space doesn’t have at least two functions, it doesn’t belong.”

For the first time since she’d started working in Wakanda, Erik had brought something useful to the conversation. Not that he wasn’t smart, the guy was brilliant and everyone knew it, especially him. It just seemed that every time he came around Kay, all he could spew were cocky remarks and nicknames he hadn’t earned.

“Are you telling me you’ve found more than one use for a pillow?”

“Ms. Benton, there are plenty of uses for a pillow.” Erik waggled his eyebrows and Kay rolled her eyes, but something in his expression felt wicked and her face heated. “But in all seriousness, yeah. If you get a large enough pillow, they can be used as couch cushions. Hell you could turn the whole bed into a couch and transform the sleeping space into the living space.”

“Do you think we could turn them into curtains instead?”  

It went on like that for two hours, Kay and Erik brainstorming. Mostly Kay was questioning how something could serve more than one function and Erik answered back with three different ways to transform the singly-functional to multi-functional.

“I’m impressed.” Kay was loathe to admit it, especially with the way Erik’s full lips pulled up into a smirk. By now they were both standing, they’d both paced the circumference of the office pod ten times. N’Jadaka approached Kay arms wide in victory.

“And the Girl Wonder begrudgingly admits I know what I’m talking about. You flatter me Kay.”

“Ms. Benton. And I never said you didn’t know that you were talking about.” At least not out loud.

“Seriously? After all that help I still can’t call you Kay?” This time N’Jadaka was a few steps away. “What is it with you and nicknames?” His gaze was calculating and Kay met him head-on.

“Names have power, you of all people should know that N’Jadaka.”

“Bullshit.” N’Jadaka took a step closer. “I’ve heard the girls call you Kay.” Another step. “You even let mean old Mrs. Oyinke call you Kay.” N’Jadaka had made it right in front of Kay, close enough to touch. Kay stood her ground.

“Nicknames have to be earned.” Erik’s brow shot up in surprise. Then he leaned in. Close and closer. Between one breath and the next he was so close that Kay could see his golds glinting through barely parted lips.

“And what exactly do I need to do to earn it then?”

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A/N: Hi everyone! I hope y’all are doing okay in Quarantine and staying safe. I obvi haven’t been writing much, but I’m hoping to change that once I finish a few more projects. 

I started a new job last month and somehow get to work from home so there’s really no reason why I can’t keep working on The Advocate after I fix a few things around the house. I’m excited about that! 

I hope y’all liked this one. Pretty sure I’ll never write smut but I like to tease the possibility of the chance of a kiss like an 80 year old victorian spinster lol

I was inspired by the Youtube channel Never Too Small. Even if y’all aren’t into design you should check out a few videos because what people can do with small spaces is literally ingenious!

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Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl @fd-writes 

[bethhxrmon]

do flowers exist at night? -chapter three

Chapter Three: Don’t Lose Your Head

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: With rumors still flying around, things have yet to get any easier for Annie. Coupling that with her terrifying illusions, it’s easy to see why it is difficult for her to not fall apart underneath everything.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, sexual harassment, Billy is the literal worst still, horror

A/N: I’ve never tried to write anything scary before so I hope that aspect of this chapter really shows! If you like this story, please let me know! Also, if you’re looking for an earlier part you can find that here. In other news, I had to publish a bit later due to technical difficulties so please send your love!

~*~*~*~

“Another book already?” Steve asked as Annie got in his car.

She shrugged, “Yeah… I only had a little over a hundred pages left so I kinda went for it.”

“I think that’s gonna take you a bit more time to get through,” he said, glancing over at her as he pulled out of her driveway.

“It’d also take a bit more effort for some asshole to rip it apart.”

“Ah, you got me there.”

Annie laughed a bit, “It’s whatever. I’ve been meaning to read this for a while now. Like, my dad’s this big, fancy literature professor. He said War and Peace was the biggest waste of time and space, so I’m gonna see if he’s right or if he’s full of shit as usual.”

“So you’re reading out of spite?” he asked, furrowing his brows, “Is he gonna say anything?”

She fidgeted with the corner of the hardcover book, “Well, I’m not sure he’s ever gonna know. He kinda stayed in New York. I haven’t seen him in… almost a month I think.”

“Oh.”

Annie shrugged, “It’s not a huge deal, my mom and I are figuring it out.”

The rest of the car ride was filled with a rather awkward silence. Maybe if she hadn’t said anything about her family, the remainder of the ride would have been better. At the same time, there were more awkward things she could have easily brought up, but didn’t.

Soon enough, Steve pulled into a parking spot at the school. Annie thanked him before getting out and going off to the school. Maybe it was abrupt, but she didn’t think Steve wanted to talk to her too much.

Not that she took that too personally, he had plenty of issues of his own. Then again, so did she. That was evidenced by the lack of makeup on her face and the clothes she wore. After all, flipping up overalls was impossible. With a flannel and shirt on top of all that, she was sure she would be fine today. Maybe all the rumors stopped overnight and there was something else going on.

However, as Annie walked, she could hear the whispers still. Just like yesterday. She carefully dodged a couple guys in the hall as she went to her locker. If she just laid low, it would blow over. It had to blow over at some point. Then she saw her locker.

"PROPERTY OF MISTRESS ANNETTE HARDWICK, A COCKSUCKING SLUT" was scrawled sloppily on the locker. Her eyes widened and immediately she rushed up to it, trying to rub it off with the sleeve of her flannel. When none of the black sharpie came off onto her dark green sleeves, she clenched the grip on her book. This simply wasn't happening.

A part of her wanted to curl up and cry right then. Everyone was staring and she could feel the eyes boring into her back. She bit the inside of her cheek to the point it almost drew blood.

"I don't think that's gonna come out, real shame," said a voice belonging to Billy Hargrove.

Annie crossed her arms, "Go fuck yourself."

"Shouldn't you be doing that for me?" he asked, leaning in close.

She swallowed hard and backed up before turning and walking off. It had to have been him. The way he looked at her made her wish she could have turned invisible. Why hadn't she said something? There had to have been some biting remark she could have given, but nothing came out. Soon enough, she found herself sitting under a stairwell.

A moment later, Steve ducked under. It was clear he was more cramped in the space than Annie was.

He crouched down next to her, "Hey, Annie, I'm so, so sorry-"

"It's not your fault," she said, staring at the white linoleum.

Steve sighed, "But isn't it? Look, I can try and help you paint over it or something or request another locker. I just... I'm sorry."

"You don't have to do any of that. I'll just get through today and maybe everyone can find someone else to poke fun at over the weekend," she replied.

"Hey, just take the help, okay? And maybe I can rip that Hargrove guy a new one for your trouble."

She let out a small laugh, "I'd love to see that, but I can take care of myself."

"I'll do it, can't have some asshole picking on my friend," he said right before the bell rang, "But seriously, are you sure you can hack it today? I can take you home or something and I can try to clear everything up."

Annie nodded, moving to get up, "I can take it, okay?"

At least, that was what she thought as she went to biology. It was just a few hours and then she was free for a whole weekend. Surely she could get through the knots in her stomach for the day.

Nothing let up, though. A few notes asking her if King Steve could still "get it" was the tipping point for her. Maybe no one touched her today, but the notes managed to hold the exact same sentiment. It made her want to run and wash her face despite the fact nothing was on it.

Having decided to then blow off the remainder of the day, she slipped a note into Steve's locker so he knew she went home. Maybe he cared, maybe he didn't. She wasn't really sure. That didn't stop her from shoving her headphones from her Walkman on and turning up the music all the way as she left the school.

The walk home was rather uneventful, and before she knew it she was right back in her house. A part of her was tempted to reach over to the phone and call up her mom. Except, she was probably doing important work at the conference she was at and Annie stopped herself. Although, this felt like the sort of emergency her mom said to warn her about.

Then again, so did the illusions she kept seeing. They only seemed to get worse with every passing day. It wasn't like she could tell anyone, though. Had she told someone like Steve or a teacher, she would be written off as crazy.

Maybe that was it, she was just going crazy from the loneliness. When her mom got back, it would all be fine. Sure, she had Erik, but he hardly counted as a conversationalist. She dropped her backpack and flopped on the couch with a sigh. A whole day left in front of her and nothing to do for it. It wasn't long before Annie got to her bag and dug through for her copy of War and Peace.

There wasn't much else for her to do other than to get lost in the story of a few Russian families going through trials and tribulations as Napoleon threatened to invade their country in the backdrop. So she found herself getting wrapped up in the beginning of the story. Though, with how comfortable she was in the position she was laying in, she soon drifted off with the book in her hands.

How long she had slept for was beyond her. It felt like something was moving on top of her. She slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see it was her cat, sprawled across her stomach. Instead there were all kinds of slimy creatures crawling on her. They almost looked like slugs but they had hind legs. For a moment, all Annie could do was stare. Then she realized they were all over her arms and her hands and legs and on her face.

The slime was all over her hands and she felt one on her mouth. She was quick to try and slap it off only to realize the whole living room was covered with the same creatures.

"This isn't real. This isn't real. This can't be happening," she repeated, her voice cracking before she started screaming.

Her screams echoed throughout the house and it felt like her throat was being scratched raw. Annie shut her eyes tightly, wishing they would just go as she screamed. And just like that, nothing. When her eyes opened, there was nothing on her. Instead there was a rapid knocking at the front door and the sound of it opening.

On instinct, she grabbed her book and hurled it at the tall figure that rushed into the room. There was a sound of the novel colliding with someone and then hitting the floor. Upon realizing who ran in, Annie put her hands over her mouth.

"Ope!" Steve exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder that had gotten hit, “What the hell was that for?”

Annie got up from the couch and rushed over to him, "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't... I didn't realize it was you. I mean, you kinda broke into my house."

"Um yeah 'cause you were screaming bloody murder," he said before looking at her, "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Annie asked, knowing she wasn't covered in the slime she had to have imagined.

He pointed at her nose, "You're bleeding."

"Oh... shit, I'll um... be right back," she replied before going to the bathroom.

Sure enough, there was a bit of blood coming from her nose. She grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper to clean it. For some reason it wasn't bleeding anymore. She mentally cursed herself, sure that Steve was going to want to know what happened.

Annie walked back out, "Sorry about that... kinda had a bad dream or something. Um what's up?"

"Or something... are you sure you're not gonna tell me what's got you freaked out enough to hurl the biggest book I've ever seen right at me?" he asked, still rubbing at his shoulder, “You’ve got a good arm.”

She shook her head, "It doesn't matter, like I said, it’s just a bad dream. What do you need?"

"Well, I didn't tear Hargrove a new one, that's for sure," he muttered, sitting on the love seat, "I know I've kinda asked a lot from you already, but... I need to get Nancy back."

Annie raised her brows, "Ah... hey, do you want some tea or something?"

"Um sure," he said, "Look, I already heard she's running around with Jonathan. I love her too much to just let her go like that, and they guys won’t stop giving me shit for it."

She nodded, listening as she put water in the kettle and put it over a burner, "Well, for all you know it's not what you think. I mean, look at us. Speaking of us, what the hell was with the mistress shit on my locker?"

"Oh that... they think they're being clever. You know, King Steve, they call Nancy a princess, that stuff."

"So I’m the Anne Boleyn to your Henry VIII... Christ that's fucked up," she murmured before shaking her head, "Anyways, do you know what you wanna do?"

He sighed, "I'm probably gonna just do the usual: flowers, an apology, the works. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will."

"Hold up, why do you have to apologize?" she asked, grabbing a couple mugs and finding some chamomile tea.

Steve shrugged, messing with the zipper of his grey bomber jacket, "I don't know, 'cause I called her bullshit while I was sober? It doesn't matter. You've just been really helpful so far, and I know it's a lot, but I just want you to help me out a bit here."

There was a long pause as Annie thought about it. If Nancy really didn't love Steve, wouldn't that just hurt him more when she rejected him? Or even worse, what if she just got back with him despite not having feelings for Steve? No, she didn't know the guy super well, but he had already been so kind to her. All the same, Annie had a good feeling that Steve was going to do this with or without her help.

She sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter, "Alright, fine. I'll help you out with all this."

"You're the best!" Steve replied, grinning, "You know, I think this might just work. She really likes red roses, they're her favorite, actually."

A little while later, they were both sitting in the living room, drinking tea. Granted, Steve probably didn't need it, but she would have felt awkward trying to calm down by drinking tea while Steve just sat there. Besides, there was no reason to rush going anywhere since he came over around lunchtime. If they jumped the gun, who knew where Nancy would have been. Though, what really seemed to grind Steve's gears was that Nancy ditched with Jonathan. Something that had to have been a point of contention in the past. Not that she had any idea.

It wasn't her place to ask. She figured that Steve would talk and open up about things when he felt it was a good time. Asking pressing questions wasn't going to do her any good.

"So... are we gonna talk about your… um... episode?" Steve asked, breaking the silence.

Annie swallowed some of her tea, "What about it? I had a nightmare."

"You threw a book at me. If you had a nightmare that seemed real... that's not good," he said, running a hand through his hair, "Look, I uh... if you need to talk to someone, I kinda get it."

She arched a brow, "How could you get it?"

"Uh... it's not important. Just, you've already done a lot for me, you can talk to me, okay?"

"It's um... so it's this recurring nightmare," she started, staring at her almost empty mug, "I'm in the house and the power kicks off and then things get weird. Like, one time there were vines everywhere and it was all cold and slimy. It looked like it was snowing. And um... well, the one I just woke up from I was covered in these slugs? But they weren't slugs, they had legs and they were crawling all over me and um... yeah."

Steve set his cup on the table, "Annie... are these things actually just you in your sleep?"

"Uh... um yeah, of course," she lied, "I'm probably just stressed being alone all the time."

He sighed, licking his lips, "You're absolutely sure? You're not seeing this stuff while you're awake?"

"Well... no... but um, but what if I did?" she asked, starting to grip her mug tightly.

How did he know she was seeing things? This had to be some elaborate prank. Or maybe the house really was haunted. That stupid kid could have been right.

Steve frowned, "Then we need to get you the hell out of here. Your cat too."

She blinked and sat back in her chair a moment, "What do you mean? Why?"

"I can't tell you... not right here, we gotta get you out. Come on, you can stay over at my place, my parents are never home. You can have the guest room, I'll help you get some stuff," he said, already standing up.

Whatever it was that was going on, Annie had absolutely no idea. All she knew was that Steve seemed to have an air of tension and fear that she hadn't seen before. A part of her wanted to call his bluff and say that he was just screwing around in some super technical and sadistic prank. However, as they rushed to get her things together, she started to realize he was being serious. Which made everything she had dealt with the last few days all the more worrying. If she wasn't hallucinating, then what was going on?

What were those things that crawled all over her? She wanted to ask Steve, but he was busy helping get her cat so they could get out faster. Before she could comprehend any part of what was happening, they were in Steve's BMW. Erik meowed periodically as Steve sped off.

He sighed, obviously trying to not appear more freaked out than he was, "Look, I... I don’t know if I can explain all this to you without getting us both killed... fuck I thought we figured this out already."

"What're you even talking about? I'm playing along with all this, but I really need you to explain everything," she said, clutching her fidgety cat close to her chest.

Steve shook his head, soon pulling up to his house, "We don't have much time for that. Come on, let's get your stuff inside."

"Um... are we gonna still try and get you back with Nancy?"

"What? No, we don't have time for that!" he exclaimed, getting out of the car, "Wait, she might know what to do, actually."

Annie rolled her eyes, "Then get the damn flowers, apologize, get back in her good graces or whatever, and try to figure out what the hell's going on!"

"Will you chill out? I'm trying to put all this together!" Steve exclaimed, "Sorry... I know this is probably really stressful for you."

She huffed, setting a dufflebag and then Erik down before shrugging off her backpack, "You know, it might be the tiniest bit less stressful for me if you would tell me what the ever-living fuck is going on! I tell you I'm seeing stuff that’s apparently real and you tell me to get out of my house without telling me why! Now are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Fine, fine, you're right. I just don't know how to explain it quickly. But all you need to know is there's another dimension and there's people-eating monsters in it and your house was flip-flopping back and forth for whatever reason… at least, I think that’s what you were talking about. That's really dangerous, but we'll figure it out," he said, going to put a hand on her shoulder, "And um... you can't tell anyone else otherwise the government's gonna kill you and your parents and your cat and anyone else you care about."

Annie stepped back, crossing her arms, "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're joking. That doesn't even make any sense! Do you realize how little sense that makes?"

"I know... but if you didn't believe me then why did you let me do this?"

"Um... I... fine, maybe there's something to all this. Let's get the fucking flowers."

Perhaps Steve had a point, she did kind of believe him. Mainly because it was the only explanation, albeit convoluted, to all the things happening in her house that didn't make her seem crazy. He seemed concerned enough for her and for himself for saying all the things he had. They made a quick stop at the grocery store so Steve could pick up the roses. After that, Steve pulled up to what she assumed was Nancy's house.

She gave him a small, assuring smile, "You've got this. Make up with your girlfriend and we'll go from there."

"Yeah. I can do this," he said, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him.

Now Annie was rooting for him more than she originally had. Mainly out of hope that Steve was right in assuming Nancy would know what to do. However, as she watched, she watched their plan grind to a halt thanks to some kid.

Tag List (let me know if you would like to join): @dungeons-and-demodogs​ @jxnehxpper​ @ilovebucketbarnes

[artisticestheticreads]

Mrs. Officer

A/N: Aight, so boom. Ya girl can’t sleep so I was up listening to this Apple 2008 Hip Hop playlist and this song came on. That’s when I got this idea. Hear me out. Our King of Oakland gets pulled over but ends up not minding. Hope y’all enjoy. This will have a couple parts or so...nah jk...unless....

WARNING: Police, unsafe driving, short (as hell) Erik being Erik and smutty situations.(It’s still fuck twelve though...)

SONG RECOMMENDATION: Mrs. Officer by Lil Wayne

WORD COUNT: 1213

It was a calm California day in December when one of the smoothest men in West LA rolled his navy blue 1990’s inspired low rider. He was listening to old school Lil Wayne with his right hand on the wheel and left on the outside of his window. The sun was still out and the streets still flowed with a plenty of people to check out how clean his ride was.

He stopped at a red light bopping his head to the beat when a 2019 cherry red Jaguar pulled up. The driver was a Latin looking guy who had hair gel back and gray eyes. The driver of the low rider looked at the man and straight ahead. He heard how the Jaguar revved up his engine. Then, all of a sudden the light turned green and they were off. They were neck at neck with one another, 80 mph in a 50 miles zone.

The low rider was in lead when he heard it and saw the flashing lights behind him. “Fuck, they always wanna fuck with someone”, the black man said slowly pulling over and turning his music down. The officer stepped out, pants tight and shoes clicking against the pavement. The driver held out his hands out the window with his license and registration. As a black man in America, he knew the protocol. He was “threatening”, intimidating at least. He stayed cool and chill.

“Hm, I see this isn’t your first time getting pulled over, huh brotha”, he heard. But this voice was so smooth like a songbird to his eardrums. So delicate like freshly done laundry and her scent was like cinnamon on a Christmas Day. The man looked up and couldn’t believe the vision in his sight. She stood there, brown skin looked as if it was kissed by God herself. Kinky hair in a slick back bun, eyes like chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Her figure...

“Damn”; she was thicker than a natural woman’s hair without a perm. She held a pad in her hands, clicking the pen. “Sir, you okay?” Her thick brow rose with the question. The man cleared his throat and looked up with a smirk. “I’m way better than okay, Mrs. Officer. How ya doing, beautiful?”

“Sir, do you know why I pulled you over”, she said as her hands grazed his fingertips to gather his stuff. He leaned into the window and up to look at her gorgeous, full, pink lips and said “nah, but I’m feeling in doe. Why did you pull me over, ma’am?”

“Well”, she looked at his license and back at him “Mr. Stevens, you were going a good 85 miles per hour back there. You could have hurt someone or worst. Yourself.” Mr. Stevens smirked up at her badge then looked at her hand before he went to her eyes. “Well, thank you Mrs. Officer Y/L/N. For making sure I was good but you must have not seen the muthafucka driving past me.”

Mrs. Officer rose her brow with a smirk as she pointed down the street making him look. There was the other car, pulled over and head into the hood getting cuffed. “Well, sir. You should be glad that I pulled you over and not that pasty ass bastard.” He smiled at her as she leaned down to his face. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

She stood straight and made her way back to her car as she watched in the side mirror. He watched as her wide set hips went side to side making him getting in a trance. He had to thank Bast above for blessing him with an officer like that. He watched as she stood at her door, tucking her loose hair behind her ear and imagined how she would look with her fro out. Imagined her with just handcuffs and heels, with her behind in the air. Stevens imagined her riding him while her breasts bounced. His hands gripping onto her hips tightly and her huge ass bouncing like a two set of basketballs. He imagined them having wild, kinky sex while choking each other; resulting them in climaxing together.

“Mr. Erik Stevens”; her sweet voice pulled him back into reality. He looked up at her as she held out his stuff for him. His fingers caressed hers as he took the papers back. He looked at her eyes and smirk noticing her smirking back only a tad before saying “you’re free to go. I’m letting you off with a warning.”

“How come”, he asked and she knelt down to his eye level. “Because your record seems to be clean according to my system and besides you were just having a little too much fun. But if I catch you again doing this, you’ll be in very big trouble.” He chuckled and said “I guess all cops ain’t bad. I mean ya are bad but in a good way though. A beautiful way.”

She rolled her eyes and said “ya just saying that because I’m not giving you a ticket.” He looked up to her and shook his head. “Nah, I meant that shit. Pretty self out here protecting” Her eyes bored into his and he can see the lust in her eyes. “Aight, get outta here before I write ya a ticket”, she said with a smile and walking to her patrol car. He began to start the car but stopped; Erik look back at her about to get in then he hopped out, jogging to her. “Hey, Officer Y/L/N.”

She looked up to him and even though she was a solid 5’6, he was a giant compared to her. She got a better view of his physique. “Yes, Mr. Stevens.”

“Just call me Erik.”

“Can I help ya, Erik?”

He folded his arms and said “why a sista like you a cop anyways? Especially with all the shit happenin’ between our people and y’all?” She looked around with one eye shut then looked at him up and down with both eyes. “Well, that’s a long story and besides, I gotta head back to the station. It’s time to clock out.”

“What ya doing after work? Maybe we can meet up and you can tell me the ‘long story’.” Officer Y/L/N shook her head and said “can’t. I have to be home to get ready for a family event tomorrow.”

“Well, how ya gonna tell me the story then?”

“Strike two. One more and I’ll write ya a ticket”. He rose his brow and said “ya ain’t gonna write me a ticket.” She lifted up her pad and clicked her pen as she looked at him writing. He looked at her in disbelief and watched as she ripped the ticket off folded in hand, and took the carbon copy to place in her pocket. “Awe, farreal. Come on, Mrs. Officer.”

She opened her car door and said “I warned ya. Have a good night, Mr. Stevens” with a smile and drove off looking in the rear view mirror. Erik walked to his car door and was about to rip the ticket when he noticed something. There was no total but instead he read “310 555 7289, Meet at the Santa Monica Pier next Saturday. -Mrs. Officer”. He looked up to see her patrol car driving off into the distance and he couldn’t help but to smirk.

* 𝕋𝔸𝔾𝔾𝔼𝔻 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊 *

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife@youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme@fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger @cherrystainedlipsbaby

[shaekingshitup]

Stay Grounded (Grindin Pt 2)

A/N: Writing this was a battle but I learned some things so it’s cool. Definitely don’t plan on anymore stories with these two. I don’t think I like Reader Inserts rn. But hey, he came back! If I told you I’d tag you and I didn’t I’m sorry. Idk a good method of actually keeping a taglist yet. D: This has been chillin in my drafts. Hopefully, you like it. Honestly, just thanks for reading! 💕

Word Count: 3.8k-ish but I swear it feels like 500 plot wise

Part 1

“Thanks Paul. I’ll see you next week,” you said as you placed one of your favorite regular’s drink on the counter.

“Bye Y/N” he called out on his way towards the exit. You checked in with your staff to make sure that they were doing okay. You weren’t an overbearing owner. You trained employees whom were competent and that you trusted to carry on your business when you weren’t there. But, you did your best to make yourself available to stop in when you knew your crew would be busiest. Plus, Grindin was your baby. You could never stay away for too long.

GRINDIN chimed out as another patron came in. You looked up to greet whomever it was with a smile.

“Michaela! Hey girl. Long time no see.” you greeted

“I know. I was honeymooning with my baaa-by,” she sang moving her goddess braids so that they were behind her back and making sure her diamond ring was on full display.

“YAS! Girl, I am so happy for you and Jon. I hope you two had a wonderful time. I see you over there Mrs. Kirk. Are you getting your usual today?” you asked.

“Girl, you don’t know the HALF of it. My boss paid for da baby and me to go on an all expenses trip to Bahamas,” you widened your eyes at this. You can’t even remember your last real vacation.  “Originally we were just going to spend a weekend away in San Diego. But, he surprised us with a week long paid vacation to the one place Jon and I truly wanted to visit. I can’t quit smiling.” she sighed with one of the brightest smiles you’d ever seen on someone. You couldn’t help but smile back. “But anywho, I’m not here for the usual actually. My boss just got back to the country from some away business as well and I guess his time away switched up his tastebuds. He’s going to take a large Brew Thang and I’ll stick with my usual small, hot Bad n Brewjie with whipped cream.”

“Absolutely girl. Comin’ right up,” Michaela handed over the business card to pay and afterwards you transitioned over to the bar to start on the drinks.It was clear that Michaela had more to say. You could see it in her body language that she was holding on to something that she needed to spill.

“Somethin’ on your mind sis? Gone ahead and spit it out.” you assured her.

“What’re you doing tonight?” she asked out of the blue.

“I’ve got a lil date tonight. Why do you ask?”

“Wait. Sis, you got a nigga?” Michaela whispered quite loudly as she raised her left eyebrow. That got you a few glances from some people working at the countertop. You were certain that the one with headphones in had heard her loud ass too. She could be really nosey sometimes but you still appreciated her presence and her business whenever she stopped in.

“Hahaha. Not at the moment.  It’s a date with myself because I deserve to eat well and be treated right -even if I’m the only one treating. Why? What’s happening tonight?” you asked trying not to reveal too much of your intrigue. Sure you had plans but if the offer was right, you could bend em.

“ Okay. So, my boss actually asked me to invite you to dinner tonight at The Liftoff because-“

“The Liftoff? Wait, who the hell is your boss? fucking President Barack Obama?” you damn near yelped as you stared at her with your eyebrows reaching the ceiling. In order to get into The Liftoff you had to have money. Not just a lil cheddar. But BIG BANK! More than that you had to have clout.  If you didn’t have someone invite you, you were never getting in. Many people hadn’t even heard of it- you happened to have a few wealthy and loyal customers stop in every now and then and had overheard them discussing it once.

“His name is Erik. I’m not sure if you remember him but I guess he was in here a few weeks ago,”

2 weeks and 3 days ago sis. But hey, who’s counting? You thought.

“That was when I was out for my wedding. I guess it was a good thing too.”

Aloud, you feigned delayed recognition “Oh yeaahhh. Yeah, I remember him stopping in”

“He was planning on picking you up tonight at six to go to dinner and finish up where y’all left off..” she trailed and left the floor for you. She was not so subtly implying that you two had started something and she was all ears.

“Well, sis. You can let Mr. Erik know that I’m unavailable for the evening. And if he wants to see me, Imma need him to come in here and ask me himself,” you said placing both drinks on the countertop.

“You playing hard to get sis?” she countered.

“I’m not playing anything. I have standards and I know my worth through and through. If he can’t come ask me face to face himself, then the answer will forever be no.”  

Michaela was shocked by your response but managed to get out “I’ll be certain to relay the message.” As she made her exit, she turned back to you. “I respect you sis. A lot of females see a nigga like him and are ready to hop over the counter at one of his slick ass lines. You’re bout to give him a run for his money- and he got plenty!” she cackled.  With that she left and left you alone with your thoughts.

————————

When you made it back to your place, it was time for a shower. The smell of coffee was one of your personal tell-tales signs of how long you’d spent at your shop to make sure everything was in order. Right now, the scent was permeating around you. It had been stated on more than one occasion that you were a workaholic. You simply cared about your baby and wanted to make sure that you gave the best back to the city that raised you. So, it was always hard to establish boundaries for when you had to tend to yourself rather than Grindin. But today was your day.

The second you opened the door, you started shedding your clothes as if they were contaminated. You loved walking around your condo bare ass naked- without a care in the world as to who did or did not see you in all your glory. You adjusted your A/C to a crisp 68 degrees and headed to your bathroom to start your water. Grabbing your phone, you put on a fun playlist to dance to a little. Kiana Ledé’s “Bouncin” started playing out of your waterproof speaker and you hopped in to wash the morning away and bounce a little yourself. The rest of the day was going to be a self-care day. You had it all planned out. First, shower. Next, nap. Then, you planned on putting on a little makeup, serving looks with your latest fit, doing some shopping and then you’d take yourself to dinner. You made sure to do this at least once a month with yourself. Sometimes people would see you dressed to impressed and they’d take pity on you for being alone. But that wasn’t how you saw it at all and you let them know it. Whenever anyone gave you sad eyes or took it upon themselves to join you on your night out, you let them know that this was your intended personal time and that you weren’t crumbled or broken by not having someone to sit across from you.

Obviously, there were times you really wished that someone would take it upon themselves to treat you so you didn’t have to do it yourself. But, on these nights you made sure to be appreciative of who you were whether there was an admirer to acknowledge this or not. Your mind drifted over these things as you hopped out the shower and moisturized your body from head to toe.

Shower ✅

You re-entered your room and buried yourself beneath your covers. The silk sheets had been calling out your name since you’d step foot inside and you were done denying them their request. It was time for that nap. 💤💤😴

——————————————

FRESH OUT THE BOX

STOP, LOCK AND WATCH

READY YET, GET SET

IT’S AALL THAT!

called out from your bedside dresser as you stretched out your limbs and tried to reach out for the phone.

OHHHHHH, OH, OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THIS IS ALL THAT!

THIS IS ALLL THAT!

“Fuck it,” you said as you hopped out the bed and began your performance. You grabbed your phone and used it as your mic as your bedroom became your stage.

Check it, check it, check it

Now this is just an introduction

Before I blow your mind

The show is All of That and yes we do it all the time

So sit your booty on the floor or in a chair

Ground or in the air

Just don’t go no-where!

You gave it all you had for the full 1 minute and 6 seconds only ceasing when the alarm tune was starting over from the top. Dancing was one of your favorite ways to wake up. It made you feel more alive and ready to conquer the rest of your day.

Nap ✅

You meander over to the kitchen to grab a banana and some cranberry juice before tossing on an oversized t-shirt and sitting in front of your vanity. Next on your list was makeup. You synched your phone’s bluetooth to your mirror and played your Self Love playlist to sing along to. You planned on applying a light beat and wanted to make sure you did so without getting any makeup on your body.  Makeup was not your forté by any means but you loved to play a little and were able to copy all the simple tutorials. Today that mean browns all around. You dabbed on some foundation and two brown eye shadows, one that was subtle and another with more shimmer to compliment your natural glow. A little black eyeliner, mascara and nude lip gloss to bring it all together.

Makeup ✅

The fit for the evening was on point if you did say so yourself. A little casual but alluring nevertheless. 

Jade green bottoms which accentuated your curves with a cream colored long sleeve shirt that had a very deep v cut. You were really playin into your sexy side for the evening and it made you feel bold and dangerous.

You went with rose gold accessories to compliment your brown skin and eyes. Your watch and lock necklace were simple but altogether the look had you feelin like you were an 11/10 and that was the goal. You always wanted to remember that you were desired-even if only by yourself. You removed your phone from the charger, responding to a quick text from Lu about your plans for the evening and when you’d be available, disconnected your music from the bluetooth mirror and headed to your front door to put on your heels.

Serve these fuckin looks ✅

———

You were on your fourth store and your Gummy Bear smoothie was all but gone. Thus far nothing was really speaking to you. You’d purchased some accessories and  saw a lot of cute clothing items but nothing that was significant enough to bring home. Your shopping rule was : “If you don’t love it in the store, you won’t love it at home,”. You exited the boutique and made your way to the escalator ascending to the second level where you parked your car. You reached for your phone as it vibrated in your back pocket. Glancing at the screen you saw that it was Ray who was reaching out.

“Hey Ray J!” you laughed at the nickname he despised. His one wish was that you would stop calling him that.

“Y/N where are you?” he sounded concerned. He hadn’t even yelled at you for using the nickname that he couldn’t stand.

“I’m leaving the mall. What’s wrong?”

“Jaime had a family emergency and can’t close tonight. Eve is there but she’s still new you know. He had to leave and no one else is available to come in for him and close,” he said.

“Really? No Sherell, Chris or Rico?”

“No. None of them can make it. I would go in but I’m in Frisco right now. I know it’s your date night and I hate to do this. But, do you think you can close up?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Yeah, I can make it. It’s almost quitting time anyways. Plus I’m hella closer than you are. But just know you owe me! If you took your ass across the bridge on a whim, the dick better be good! ”

“Trust me boo it will be and I got you next time!”

“Yeah, whatever.” You hung up and wondered why the hell Ray decided to go to San Francisco on a whim when he was scheduled to be back up in case anything went awry for the evening. That was the whole purpose of the schedule that the two of you created. This was a perfect example of something unexpected occurring and yet he was M.I.A. You pondered these thoughts as you headed to your car and headed back towards your shop. You made sure to call and cancel your dinner reservation because that definitely wasn’t happening anymore.

Thank God I always keep a change of clothes at work you thought, cringing about how awkward it would be to slang coffee with your titties on full display considering you’d forgone a bra for the evening.

When you pulled up it was 6:30. The shop closed at 8 tonight so you had half an hour before you began pre-close. You walked in and scurried to the back to change into a merch sweater which read “Stay Grounded and some black leggings.

Eve was holding it down as best as she could. But it was evident that she was stressed.

“Hey, I’ll take the bar. You go ahead and ring em up, okay?” you offered.

She sighed and released a lot of the tension in her shoulders. “Okay.”

There were already 4 drinks waiting to be made. So, you got to work.

“Sorry your first night shift has been a bit of a whirlwind,” you told her once it had slowed down a bit. It was 6:58 and you didn’t anticipate there being too much of a let up. “Do you have your pre-close list with you?”

“Yeah. I was going to do the final bathroom check.”

“Great! Go ahead and get started. I’ll do most of the behind the counter stuff tonight. You focus on the customer areas. I may call you if orders get crazy,”

“Sounds like a plan boss!”

“Y/N!” you corrected.

Customers trickled in throughout the last hour. But when 7:45 came around and they saw that you were already cleaning up shop, most of them started to pack up their things and go. By 7:56 you were ecstatic. Everyone was gone. You just had to lock the door and then you could count money and tips, do a final sweep and mop and head out the shop. At least that was the plan, until you heard GRINDIN chime throughout the store at 7:58 P.M. You rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, this was no new occurrence to you. Customers were notorious for getting their final fix in the last few minutes before you closed up. Most of the time it didn’t bother you. But tonight, you were hungry and jaded that your plans for the evening had changed.

“Welcome! I just want to let you know that we will be closing in just a couple minutes here,” you called out without looking up as you wiped down the counter, “Let me know if you have any questions.”

“Yeah I got one.” the timber of his voice compelled you to stop and give him your full attention. You looked up to see Erik, dressed in a slightly less formal ensemble than when you’d first met. 

He adorned a pair of dark trousers, a white button up shirt with polka dots and suede loafers. But, he still looked so..

“Delicious?” he asked.

Hol’ up. First he’s Barack and now he reads minds too?

“I’m sorry” you say trying and failing to hide your flustered nature. “What was that?”

He smirked. “It’s okay baby girl. I’m sure you got a lot to take in with your day and all,” he stated as he took a few steps forward which didn’t help to alleviate your confused state at all. “I said since you took the time to introduce me to something new. I haven’t been able to get you off my mind. How about tonight it’s my turn to show you something delicious?”

Your reaction came as if you were on auto-pilot.

“I would love to but I’m barely closing up shop. By the time I count the drawer and we find a restaurant and actually place an order it’ll be pretty late. You shouldn’t hold off on dinner on account of me,” you said.

Erik kissed his teeth. “Yo workaholic ass don’t know how to say ‘no’ to anyone who wanna show you a good time, do you?” It must have been a rhetorical question because he went on, “Gone ahead and finish up closing your shop. When you done, meet me in the back.”

“Hold on. I

“Aht- aht- aht. This is no longer an option. This is the game plan. Close up, freshen up into some non-coffee gear and meet me out back. I’ll be there.” he said sternly and with that, he left.

Eve came out from the back of the shop with a broom in hand. You stood there frozen for a moment.

Did this negro just boss me around? In my own damn shop?? You thought.

Yes. Yes. He did sis. And you liked it so shut up and close up!

You locked the front door to bar anyone else from coming in and started counting the drawer. By the time you were done, Eve had swept, mopped the front and turned on the fans to help the floor dry quickly.

“Great job tonight Eve! I’m sure in the future it won’t be as.. disruptive. Either way, you killed it.”

“Thanks Y/N did you need me to stay or-?”

“Uh-uh. Go ahead sis!”. The second you locked the door behind her. You dashed to the restroom to freshen up and put on your clothes from earlier in the day. You rolled on some perfume and reapplied your gloss before you hit all the lights, locked the door, set the alarm and circled around the back of the shop.

When you got there, you came to a full stop and your jaw dropped. It was gorgeous. The back lot of the shop was decorated in lights throughout the trees. In the center there was a table for two, a whole ass waiter and was that music? You glanced around to find that tucked away in the corner there was indeed a harpist playing beautiful melodies.

“Damn girl and I thought I was going to surprise you with my view,” Erik said as you turned around to face him. He was holding a single purple daisy- which just happened to be your favorite flower. He placed it in your hands and pulled out your chair for you to have a seat.

“How? How did you do all of this and how did you know this was my favorite flower?” you asked with an expression of bewilderment taking over your features.

“I promise I’ll explain alldat baby girl. But first, I need to say I’m sorry”. This surprised you. You’d spent less than an hour in this man’s presence but he already didn’t strike you as the apologetic type.You placed your flower on the table and gave a nod of your head for him to go on. “When I met you a few weeks back. I meant to ask yo fine ass out right then and there. Unfortunately, that call that I got was urgent and it needed me to leave the country immediately,”. He finished.

“Oh my. Is everything alright?” you asked

“It is now. I handled it as I always do,” he stated with a conceited grin, “That’s why I came back to ask you out. I don’t leave anything unfinished.”

“Last time I checked this wasn’t an option. You didn’t ask nothin” He chuckled at that. The waiter came over at that moment to introduce himself, present the menu and fill up your water. He didn’t need to explain anything because there weren’t options on it. It was simply an itinerary for what your palette could expect. Appetizer, Entree, Dessert. They were all your favorites with a subtle twist. You were impresed. The menu was elegantly done and it looked fly as hell. You might have to keep a copy to give to Lu for inspiration.

“Well, actually I did,” Erik began when Duke, the waiter made his exit, “I was in earlier to ask yo stubborn ass-”

“You got one more time to talk about my ass before this becomes a solo event,” you interjected.

“Aight, bet. We can take a pause on that ass for now,” he smirked, “I was in earlier to ask you to dinner face to face, but yo people told me that you were unavailable for the evening. So, we made a few changes to make you available.”

“You what?”

“I paid ya mans Jaime a few bills to take the night off. Ray and Lulu was already on board,” you glanced down at the menu of our favorite foods again, “yup. That was them. They told me what you like. I just got the chef and made sure that Michaela hired the right people to make this vision come together. We all agree that it’s time for you to take a break, ma”

“Wait a minute. You bribed my staff? Plus, Lulu and Ray were in cahoots with you on this?! You barely even know me.”

“And? I’m tryna know you”

“I’m just sayin that’s a hole lotta trouble for a virtual stranger.”

“But you not a stranger. You the one that left me satisfied. Now just enjoy the rest of the evening and let me do the same for you,” he said as he picked up your hand and caressed it all the while never breaking eye contact with you.

“Okay.” you got out meekly. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Okay, Imma let you finish what you started,” you said

He smiled one of the most genuine and naturally alluring smiles you’d ever seen.

“ I can already tell you ain’t used to letting others take control. But don’t worry ma. I got this and I got you,” you were all the way blushing at this point, “Tell me about your day. Was it as brewtiful as you are?”

You laughed out loud as Duke placed your appetizers in front of you. “You corny.”

“And you like it,” You could already tell that he was going to do good on his word. You were leaving satisfied tonight one way or another.

Tag List: @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @shewrites02 @shewritestheblues @ghostfacekill-monger @sarcastic-sunshines @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites @twistedcharismaaa @thadelightfulone @raysunshine78

[ruleroflimbo-a]

Shattered Trust || Discord

Events: Illyana confronts Erik after learning the truth about Supergirl’s part in the siege Date: sometime after the siege and creation of Genosha Involved: Illyana Rasputin and Magneto @master-of-magnetism Mentioned: Supergirl @maidenxfmight Trigger warnings: manipulation tw, mind control tw, threats tw, delusional thinking tw, child abuse mention tw Word count: 1,989

ILLYANA: After Illyana had found out the truth about how Magneto managed to get Supergirl to help destroy the bridges she wanted to kill someone, she'd tried to calm down a little before going to see Magneto but she didn't have much success in doing so. As she teleported to Erik, her sword in hand and white energy surrounding her, it wasn't hard to tell she was pissed. Her skin had turned red, her eyes glowing and demon claws in place of her fingers. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out the truth Мудак?" When Illy was drunk or mad her Russian accent sometimes slipped through, she was beyond mad now though, instead of the Russian accent her voice had turned somewhat demonic. It was more Darkchylde's voice than Illyana's at this point.          

ERIK: Illyana hadn't been to Genosha since they raised the island, but frankly, that concern had been on the bottom of Erik's list. He had a country to organize, a funeral to plan, countless tasks to throw himself into so he didn't have to think about what was missing. 

If Illya had been hurt, Jean or Rogue would've known, undoubtedly, and if she simply didn't care to come back yet? Erik wasn't going to drag her.

So of course she came back in the middle of an evening where he had a mountain of work to be doing. And of course she looked like this, ready to fight--ready to kill.

Ah. Another oversight.

Erik raised his hands slightly as he pushed himself out of his seat, attention flipping solely to Illyana. There was no question what she was talking about.

"I didn't think you were close enough to Supergirl's camp that it'd be a problem when you did," Erik answered slowly, in Russian--something to help calm her, with any luck. "I did what was necessary, Illya."

ILLYANA: Healing Donna had taken a lot of her energy, she'd gone to Limbo after to regain her strength before going to confront Erik and to maybe calm down a little, she'd only really succeeded in the former, which was obvious by her appearance and voice. Erik's words didn't help her anger and she was struggling to hold herself back, to keep in control.

He's not worth losing control over.

"If you knew I was going to find out why bother lying to me and-" she cut herself off as she tried to keep her anger contained. "What, did you just think the demon with only part of a soul wouldn't care?" She managed to keep from raising her voice, it wasn't needed to show how angry she was. Her glowed red when he said he only did what was necessary, one of Darkchylde's traits rather than the white glow Illy's eyes usually had. "How was what you did to Supergirl necessary exactly?"

ERIK: "I didn't lie," he answered, immediately.  "I left out a few details, yes, but nothing I told you was false.  I needed to make sure that Jean wouldn't find out during the seige.  Being that she's a telepath, it was important that no one else knew the whole story."

Oh, for g-d's sake.  Erik's lips thinned in annoyance at the accusation, and he barely resisted the urge to snap at her.  As if he'd ever thought any less of her for her attachment to Limbo or the state of her soul.  "It has nothing to do with you and your soul, Illya.  As far as I knew, you didn't have any attachments that would make what happened to Supergirl any more serious than what happened to any of the humans during the siege."

Her appearance and tone were becoming more and more demonic with every word, and Erik watched her carefully, ready to defend himself if need be.  "I needed the bridges taken apart while I was at the UN.  Lorna didn't have the control to take them all apart quickly enough, and anyone else who could do so was needed elsewhere.  I certainly couldn't do it while I was speaking--even my attention can only split so far.  Supergirl was a logical choice--it made it look like she was on our side, which was a much-needed boost of credibility, she got the job done quickly, and she'd seemed sympathetic to our cause before.  She just needed a nudge.  I helped her."  There's not a trace of falsehood, in tone or in expression--that he believes the words he's saying is clear as day.

ILLYANA: "Lying by omission is still lying" Belasco had been a fan of that, always leaving out details to make sure Illyana did what he wanted, to manipulate her into being his obedient daughter and apprentice. Erik doing almost the same made her blood boil, making it harder to keep her anger under control. "Telepaths can't read my mind" Jean was the only one Illyana let read her mind but the only one who knew she'd lowered her shields for her was Jean and Katya.

"I don't have any attachment to Supergirl" she really didn't, she'd only met her once as Darkchylde and she was pretty sure she'd tried to kill the girl of steel. "I don't care about who it was, I care about the line you crossed" it was a line Illyana would never cross, not after what Belasco did to her as a child, not after Darkchylde, and she was certainly not going to stand with someone who was willing to cross that line either. "And don't call me Illya, you don't get to call me that anymore."

A small part of Illyana had hoped Erik would be able to ease her anger towards him if she spoke to him, that he showed some sign that he regretted what he'd done, but there was nothing. Out of the two of them it seemed Illyana was the one left with regret, regret that she'd ever trusted Erik, that she'd followed him, helped him with his plans. She should have known better. "I could have taken down the bridges and still gone to Stark Tower" she could have teleported to the bridges, have them destroyed and be back with the others not even a second after she left. "No" she said, almost shouted "you don't get to stand here and justify what you did, if you had convinced Supergirl to help simply by talking to her that's one thing. You crossed a line when you used something that affected her mind" she wanted to scream, she wanted to send him to the darkest hell dimension she could think of. "I can't believe I ever trusted in you, you're no better than Belasco."

ERIK: He wasn't going to sit here and argue semantics with her.  If she viewed what he'd said as a lie, she was entitled to her thoughts.  Erik knew what lines he would and wouldn't cross for himself.  ( Didn't he? )  "What line?  The Kryptonite?  Why would I not use any resources I can to win?  She's not one of us, and I didn't make her do anything she didn't want to do already.  She was angry, and burying it.  She would've snapped eventually, I simply gave her a nudge at the opportune time.  I didn't get into her mind--anything she did, or agreed to do, she did on her own."

It wasn't the same as mind control.  Wasn't the same as the notion that had kept him terrified of telepaths for years.  He'd given her a nudge, and let her do the rest.  She might not like it in the aftermath, but he helped her.

He did.

"What do you want to hear, Illyana?" he snapped at last, thin patience running down to the wire, "If not justification?  I did what I did because I believed it was the best course of action, and it worked.  I'm not going to apologize for opening her eyes.  There's not a person on this island who doesn't know that I will do whatever it takes to make our people safe."  Erik lowered his hands, knuckles going white against the tabletop.  "We won, Illyana.  We sacrificed, but we won.  We have a home, now.  Supergirl is back to normal, the humans believed she was on our side enough to speed along negotiations, and we won.  If you came here expecting an apology for that, I'm afraid you're going to be sorely disappointed.  Sometimes war means making difficult choices, and the consequences--" his voice cracked, briefly "--of those rest on my head, not yours.  If you truly believe I'm no better than he is, no one will force you to stay here under my leadership.  You're quite old enough to make your own decisions."

ILLYANA: Her grip on her sword tightened as red glow from it grew brighter, reflecting Illyana's anger. "There's a difference between wanting to do something and actually doing it" her voice was calmer now, if not for the demonic tone to it this could have seemed like a normal conversation. Anyone who knew Illyana would know the calm anger was not a good sign. "If she wouldn't have done what she did without the influence of the Kryptonite then she didn't do it on her own" was he really so delusional or did he simply not care about what he'd done? "Do you even know the guilt that comes with something like this? I do" when she was missing her soul she had done plenty of things she wanted to do but never would have if she hadn't lost her soul and the guilt of that was still with her. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the people she'd hurt, the people she had killed and it wasn't something she'd ever want someone else to go through.

"There is no justification for what you did" she told him, her words cold and detached, she really was beyond anger now and if this went any further she wasn't sure what she would do. "What you did to her would be the same as if you forced me to turn back into Darkchylde, back into a soulless monster" maybe that was one of the reasons she was so angry about this, why this had shattered any trust she had in Erik. He'd proven he was capable of something like this, why should she think he wouldn't do something like that to her if he found a way? She wanted to hurl her sword at him and into his chest, watch the life drain from his eyes... if she had less control she might have done exactly that, but she held back because she still had a soul, even if it was part of it. "You might be worse than him, at least he doesn't have a soul, or the ability to feel guilt" she never thought she'd ever think someone was worse than her adopted father.

"But you're right, Supergirl isn't one of you" she said as she fully changed into her demon form "and neither am I." She was more demon than mutant, she'd never really felt like she fit in with them.

The freak among freaks.

Most of them looked at her with fear in their eyes or hatred, often both, like she was going to turn evil any second. It had only gotten worse since Darkchylde. She could stay on Genosha but she'd feel out of place and she didn't trust Erik, didn't trust herself not to try to kill him if she stuck around. "I won't stay here, I would never follow you after what you did. After you lied to me. I deserved to know the truth, the truth about who and what I was putting my trust in" if she'd known she never would have taken part in this, and now that she knew she had no plans to step foot on Genosha again once she left. "If I ever see you again... you should hope for your sake that I don't."

[heydemonsitmeyaboy]

Demon war Sam's route got me messed up and now that Michaela's not doing anymore I just want to see how mc and Sam would deal with the reader being the demon princess and James and the other brothers having kids who are all boys who are best friends and pretty much brothers and sister compared to cousins James son - Jade Erik - Ash Matthew - Leo Damien - Taylor If you could do this please I will be very happy there are like no stories for something like this thanks!

Headcanons!/ short story

( thank you so much for your request! I thought head cannons would be easier instead of me doing a one shot since you’ll actually see you like in order how he would deal but if you would like one shot please let me know!(I also did like a short version of a one-shot I have no idea what to call it but it’s kind a like a miniature Headcanon if you will) 💜 as for the other request I will be answering that one separately)

💚 Sam will be extremely patient with the reader considering he’s been a demon all his life so he has some pointers on the do’s and don’t.

💚 although we never really got told how Sam felt about the whole entire ordeal they kind of just pushed it out there I’m sure that he was welcomed with the whole idea of the reader being a demon in the first place. Knowing how if he has an opinion about something he’ll definitely share it so I’m sure it’s not really shocking thing

💚 Sam would be extremely over protective ,maybe even more now that the reader is a demon. Since Sam really didn’t have to worry that much in the human world, because he was stronger than them ,but now since he’s the demon king and knowing what the previous king did .I am sure there would be plenty of demons wanting to kill him and the queen in the name of revenge. And since the reader is still adjusting to living and being a demon period she won’t have much to defend herself with so same would be in protective mode 24/7

💚With the soul bonding Sam would be able to feel when the reader is in distressed so in those times he’ll comfort her and maybe if she’s feeling a little homesick he’ll do the best he can(since you literally can’t open a portal without a human on the other side casting it so visiting the human world would be a no)

💚 studying the history of the abyssal plains. ( you can’t have an unknowledgeable monarchs rule the kingdom so Sam and the reader would have to study to see how to make the kingdom better and how to fix what the demon lord did . In the first seduce me the otome James was constantly studying so he’ll be prepared when is his time to take the throne. Sam wouldn’t have to study as much because his mother was there to teach him how to rule if there was a possibility that Sam will take the throne but I’m sure MC would have to study quite a bit so Sam would be there to help her )

💚sexy time? Sexy time. It does take quite a bit of energy to rule the kingdom ;)

💚 Sam would be a bit new to this whole succubus thing and ah mc has two horns. Powerful gal

Sam would deal with the reader as he would normally would,Demon or human he’ll love mc and be by her side... always.of course being the in abyssal plans things will tend to get a bit rough, with demons not knowing that you were once human, they would a assume that you were a princess to a kingdom and you had training before hand.so Sam would have to teach you the do’s and dont’s on how to run a kingdom.sam wouldn’t be too keen on the mc just wandering around the place so I’m pretty sure he’ll supervise most of the time ,but not in like a kid away but a protective type away. Now that Sam could read he’ll have no problem teaching her a little bit of history so that will be fun. (incomplete in utter honesty I see Sam having no particular noticeable bumps if MC does become the princess of the abyssal plains I feel like he’ll just become more protective and more hostile towards the others since you can’t sleep in the demon world without at least having one eye open. But other than that I’m pretty sure he will still treat her relatively the same way maybe a bit more frisky if you know what I mean since he’ll think she can take it better and think about the enthrallment... I can’t...)

[lothirielswanmarvel]

Chapter 1 of Avengers: Love and Lightning

Love interest: Thor (+ a Peter Quill love triangle later introduced in the series)

“Vision, what's next on the list?”

“Blueberries, sir—boss—tiny man with lots of money,” Vision stuttered as we walked on the aisle. Tony Stark, famous billionaire and world-saver, sat in the shopping cart that I pushed, munching on an open box of pocky.

“Tiny Man better not squish my M&Ms,” Rhodey muttered. Every now and then, Rhodey would reach out and steady himself against the edge of the cart. The metal casts that encased his legs were bulky, and I couldn't imagine how irritating they were. I noticed Vision wince every time Rhodey stopped to gather himself.

I sighed. My family had gone through a divorce recently (and you can imagine how crappy that was, given Director Nick Fury was practically the priest that united the match). The Avengers had separated, leaving all parties in broken pieces. All of the people I cared about in my incredibly tiny yet fulfilling social circle were in pain. How was someone like me, an introvert with zero superpowers, supposed to fix that?

“Oh! Can we pick up some cucumbers?” Shuri asked. Her voice was light and had a hint of an accent to it. She wore bright colors and had a chipper air to her. Sometimes, I swore she was a character from an anime brought to life.  

“No,” T’Challa said sternly.

Our group took up the entire aisle, and as we slowly inched towards the end, I daydreamed about the book I had stashed under my bed in the Compound. But I forced myself out of my comfort zone, more than a regular amount: I felt like they needed me. And I honestly cared too much to forsake any of the Avengers right now.

“Ms. Angie, can I have some cucumbers please?” Shuri turned to me with a polite smile on her face.

I blinked. “You’re the princess of an entire continent. I'm pretty sure I have no say here.”

“Sure you do, Ms. Angie,” Peter Parker, another random kid that Tony adopted off the street, raced up to our party. He stuffed a bunch of doughnuts in our cart. Tony nodded his approval, “ ‘Atta boy. Now go steal the bananas by the ‘kids get free snacks’ sign.”

“Don't listen to him, Peter. Tony can go by himself,” I said. “And what do you mean, I have a say?”

Peter shrugged. “Well, you’re an adult, right? You’re old enough to drink, that's pretty old.”

I stopped pushing the cart abruptly and gaped at Tiny Man 2.0. “Wait, hold on a minute, did you just call me old?”

“You read books all the time,” Shuri replied.

“You always prefer your free time in solitude,” Vision interjected.

“And you look…” Peter trailed off as he studied my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tony making cutting motions with his hands.

“You look, uh,” Peter swallowed. “You look really young. I mean, you dated Thor and he's like a thousand years old. You're practically dating the elderly.”

“Woah, that is not cool, man,” Rhodey shook his head.

“We need to work on how you talk to women,” Tony told Parker. Then he turned in the cart to glance at me, and cowered behind a jar of Nutella. In the background, T’Challa started hitting his head on a box of cereal.

I sucked in a breath as I processed all of this information. “Okay, a few points to be made here: I am a young woman in the prime of my life.”

“Who radiates youth and beauty,” T’Challa offered.

I continued, trying not to blush, “Right...er, thanks. Number two: I never dated Thor. If I wanted to date the elderly, I’d call up Bucky in Wakanda. Last thing,”

I stared down Vision, Peter, Shuri, and Tony. “if I am the adult, that means you are the child.”

I continued down the aisle, tugging Tony along in the cart. “Rhodey, pick up some Minute Maid juice boxes for the kids.”

“But I like Juicy Juice more…” Parker whined.

“Tough!” I turned around the corner, and crashed carts with someone. I winced at the sound. Tony squirmed in the metal basket, “Hey—oh, they visited the liquor section.”

Tony reached out to steal the pack of beer and yelped when three long blades came before his hand.

“I’m so sorry! Hi, Logan,” I said, facing most of the staff of the X-Men. Professor Charles Xavier was sitting in the cart, giving Tony a disapproving look. Erik Lensherr pushed the cart without even touching the handle, who offered an unfriendly sneer to Vision. Hank McCoy was nearby, studying the shopping list. Sometimes he glanced up at me and quickly looked back down at the slip of paper.

“Our deepest apologies, Ms. Green,” Charles wore a friendly smile when he met my gaze. “Do excuse us. Mister Wade Wilson has been draining our supply of snacks for the students, so we’re here to pick up more biscuits.”

“That's british for crackers,” Hank McCoy translated.

“They don't need to know our life story, bub,” Logan grunted.

“Right. We must be off,” Charles waved as his cart started moving by itself. “Good day to you, Avengers.”

Erik sneered at Vision as they passed. “Next time you touch my daughter, remember: I can control metal.”

The group marched off to raise havoc in the bakery department.

“The other side of the pond is crazy,” Rhodey remarked, watching them go.

Tony held up a beer in victory, “Ugh, why is this warm? We’re getting some Aviation American Gin.”

I started pushing Tony again. Both him and the doughnuts had some weight to them. “No alcohol around kids.”

“But mom!”

“No dice,” I said. Our group kept walking. My mind wandered back to what Peter mentioned: he thought Thor and I were dating. We were intimate—I mean, we were close, not in a romantic way, but...he always came up to me first when he returned to Earth. Thor sent me exotic flowers from Asgard sometimes, when he was away—he called me his “earthen goddess” on the tag, and it always made me feel all warm and tingly.

Thor and I had struck up a system while he was away, too: to make sure he was alive, we sent letters through Heimdall for each other. I felt bad bothering the poor Watcher of the Nine Realms, but at least I knew Thor was okay. He was off doing space stuff, and I did my earth stuff: I just...I missed him sometimes.

Only when fiery sparks filled the air did I return to reality (only Thor could make me forget what planet I was on). Doctor Stephen Strange appeared before us.

“Hey,” I was the first to recognize him. I probably knew him better than everyone else; my health history wasn't...pristine.

Tony stuck his tongue out at him like a five year-old. “What, you got tired of your blue telephone box?”

Peter and Shuri gasped. “Can I be your companion?”

“I asked first! I got dibs! Ha!”

“No fair! You didn't even get your Hogwarts letter!”

Stephen smirked, and despite Tony, leaned on the front of the cart, holding my gaze. “Hello. Food shopping with the family?”

“And pursuing other condiments, including feminine hygiene products and alcoholic beverages,” Vision added.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Just an ordinary day living among superheroes. Very boring.”

Shuri nodded vigorously. “It's true! All Ms. Angie does is sit on the couch and play video games and cry over made-up people. There is nothing interesting going on in her life.”

I gripped the handle to the cart tightly, silently vowing never to have children. Stephen’s cheekbones were sharp and taut like they were held up by internal wiring. He had a regalness to him. I was one of the few around that he actually joked with, “I disagree. I think there are plenty of interesting things about you.”

I made a face at him, wondering if this was a hint to a new health crisis—or even worse—an attempt to flirt with me. Suddenly T’Challa was right next to me. “What is your motive in this visit, Strange? Perhaps you have run out of money, and cannot afford basic necessities.”

I groaned at the two of them. “Please play nice. I think I’ve finally reached the temptation to buy Aviation American Gin. Tony, direct me.”

“Yay!” Tony pointed Logan’s stolen beer bottle towards the end of the aisle. I followed my soon to-be tipsy compass.

Stephen still lingered in our group. I glanced over at him, “If there’s anything you’d like…”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” He said.

“Angeline, I think you are too kind to the misfortunate,” T’Challa mused.

“Guys, please. I get enough bickering as it is: I'm surrounded by four kids,” I motioned again across our group. “Let’s just be nice, and enjoy Tony’s black card.”

We reached the end of the aisle and a curse flew from my mouth. I crashed carts with someone else.

“I'm so sorry—” I trailed off when I looked up at the person.

“Intruders!” Scott Lang raised his nerf gun from his seat in the shopping cart. “Make way, people! It's the White Jets to our Latino Sharks!”

Steve Rogers sighed. “Scott, you have to stop watching musicals with Cassie.”

[raijindork]

Neighbours from Hell - Ch. 12

Summary: Lucy’s neighbours are, for the most part, interesting characters. But she loves them all to bits, and even if she met them under some pretty strange circumstances, she wouldn’t give up her apartment family for anything in the world.

Pairing: BixLu, mostly. Rating: T Words: ~2.7k

also on ff.net

“Alright, don’t forget I’ll be home late. Got that parent-teacher thing tonight,” Bickslow said quickly, leaning over Lucy at her desk to kiss her cheek. “Do you want me to grab something for dinner on my way back?”

  “Mm-hmm, that’d be great,” Lucy hummed.

  Bickslow was about to leave before he paused and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, you’ll do great today, okay?” he said softly. “I believe in you.”

  Lucy leant back in her chair just to smile up at Bickslow and let him kiss her again. “Thanks, you,” she whispered. “Now get going before you’re late.”

  “Alright, fine, I’m leaving. Love you, dork. Text me how it goes!”

  “Mm-hmm, love you, too.” And just like that, after hearing her apartment door close behind Bickslow on his way out, her apartment was in silence one more. Well, apart from Blair meowing at the door, but Lucy was used to that.

  In a little over six hours, she was going to have her first meeting ever with a publishing agent, and Lucy didn’t really know what to do with herself.

  Since losing her job, she’d had more than enough time to work on her writing, which meant she’d spent plenty of time sitting at her desk or sprawled out on her living room floor writing out ideas and then tossing them into the trash. Erik had been helping her out with it, too, much to Bickslow’s annoyance. Lucy would bounce ideas off of him, and Erik would be brutally honest and tell her just how garbage they were. Whenever she had a decent enough idea she could expand on, he’d even read it over and let her know what he thought. Most of what she wrote ended up in the trash, but Lucy hadn’t really minded. Somehow, she’d known that none of those ideas would ever have made it into a best-selling story.

  It had been three o’clock in the morning when she’d gotten her perfect idea. She’d been lying awake in bed, mindlessly patting Blair when it had come to her. She’d gotten out of bed so quickly that she’d woken Bickslow in the process, but that had been fine. After that, she’d spent the next three hours sitting at her desk and plotting everything out, just in time to scream to Bickslow when he woke up about how she’d finally found the perfect idea.

  Of course though, she never actually told Bickslow what that idea was. To that day, Erik was the only person she’d shared the details with. He’d just about burst out laughing when she’d told him, and admittedly, it had scared the shit out of Lucy when it had happened. Erik didn’t really laugh. Not like he had that day, at least.

  Erik had told her to write what she wanted, so that was exactly what she’d done. Fortunately since then, she’d also managed to pick up an office job in the city, but every second she wasn’t at work, she was writing.

  She’d never really planned on sending it to anyone, much less getting any kind of response. But Erik and Bickslow had talked her into it, and the next thing she’d known, she’d been sending off query emails to every single agent she could find. Much to her surprise, one agency had actually responded and asked when she could come in. Lucy had honestly thought it was a prank at first, because what respectable agency would read her silly work, let alone like it enough to respond. For some bizarre reason though, they had, and now here Lucy was, freaking the fuck out about her meeting with the agent.

  Lucy couldn’t help but find it a little odd that they were asking her to come in so late in the day, though. She��d always thought that when she did actually start meeting with people to try and get published, it’d be mid-morning and she’d be walking in with coffee and a breakfast bagel and seem like she was some kind of professional who had her life together and it’d be a great start to the day. Instead, she’d be battling the afternoon traffic and be on her third cup of coffee of the day, and probably be late from said traffic and really just wanting a damn nap.

  Bickslow and Erik had said it was a good thing they were trying to squeeze her in for a meeting, something about it meaning they really loved her work and that they just had to meet her in person as soon as possible. Lucy thought it was all a load of bullshit, but she knew better than to turn down an opportunity like that, even if she knew how unlikely it was to get her anywhere.

  ###

  Lucy usually hated her habit of leaving painfully early, but that day, it was her saviour. She’d barely made it to the office in time for her meeting, only being able to grant herself the few seconds necessary to catch her breath after running up the three flights of stairs to get there, because of course the elevator had been out of order.

  Once inside the office, Lucy was guided towards a small office by the grumpy receptionist and told to sit and wait. Lucy usually didn’t like being told what to do, but considering where she was, she figured it was safer to obey. She didn’t want to give a bad first impression there of all places.

  She glanced at her watch every few moments and bounced her knee nervously. Her agent was running late. Lucy wasn’t sure if it was a power move or if they had forgotten about her. Honestly, Lucy wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the latter. If anything, it was probably just some kind of joke.

  It was nearly forty-five minutes later that they showed up, with a stack of manuscripts under one arm and a coffee in the other. His long green hair he’d tied up in a bun was falling loose and Lucy couldn’t help but feel like she’d seen that tired, disheveled face before. Probably online or something, she thought.

  “You must be Lucy! I’m Freed Justine.” he greeted her, juggling the papers and coffee to extend his hand before a look of mild panic crossed his face. “Oh, do forgive me. Is it alright if I call you Lucy?”

  “O-Oh, uh, yes, of course. Lucy is fine,” she replied.

  “Excellent. Please, come in.”

  She followed him into the small office, closing the door behind herself and trying her best to refrain from asking if he actually preferred it open. Wringing her hands together as she sat herself opposite the large desk, Lucy became all to aware of how sweaty her hands were—and to think she’d just shaken the man’s hand! Oh god, I hope he didn’t notice. Oh dear god…

  “I am so very sorry for making you wait,” Freed said as he settled himself at his desk, taking just a few seconds to set everything in its proper place—the manuscripts on the pile to his right, his coffee on the coaster to his left, and straightening out the notepad he kept to his side for convenience, right next to the photograph of his husband. “I hope I didn’t keep you for too long.”

  Lucy laughed nervously, rubbing her hands on her thighs to try and dry them. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

  “Well, let’s not waste anymore time, shall we?”

  ###

  Freed’s questions were short and to the point, something Lucy appreciated even if his note taking was just a little worrying. It felt like the worst of job interviews and Lucy couldn’t help but feel like all of her answers were wrong somehow. Still, the fact he didn’t end the meeting with her the second he learned anything about about her career as a writer, Lucy had high hopes.

  But then the questions stopped, and Lucy grew wary when Freed just stared down at his watch for longer than anyone should ever stare at a watch, unless they had trouble telling the time, at which point Lucy wasn’t sure what the point of wearing a watch was.

  But Lucy was nervous and she couldn’t help but open her mouth and ask against her better judgement: “Is there something wrong?”

  “No…” Freed sighed. “Well, yes, actually.”

  “Oh. I… I see.” Lucy just knew it had been too good to be true. Bickslow and Erik could suck it. “Well, I, uh… I appreciate this opportunity, and—“

  “Oh, god, no. It’s not you,” Freed said quickly as Lucy stood and grabbed her bag.

  Lucy stared down at him with a look of confusion and he scratched his head, causing even more strands to fall loose of his bun. He always did his best not to mix professional with personal, but he’d been so been looking forward to meeting Lucy that day, but it was the one day that he just couldn’t stay late at the office to finish her interview, and it had been such a long time since Freed had read something he’d enjoyed that thoroughly.

  “I would honestly love to finish this interview and actually talk to you about your manuscript,” he began to explain, quickly beginning to pack up all the things he needed to take home that evening. “However, I, uh… I have dinner plans and I promised my husband I wouldn’t be home late today, and—“

  “No, I… I totally understand,” Lucy interrupted. Who was she to stop the man from being able to have a nice dinner with his husband? Lucy supposed she should just be grateful she was able to meet with him at all, even if it had been so short. “It’s fine, I get it.”

  Freed still felt bad, and he was used to having to cut interviews short or having people leave feeling disappointed in the outcome. But Freed didn’t mind taking risks when he was sure of the outcome. “Look, this is completely unorthodox, and, probably highly unprofessional as well, but it’s going to take me at least thirty minutes to get home in this traffic, and I would be more than happy to continue this conversation in a cab if you would like,” he suggested. “Of course, we can also reschedule and I can have my assistant fit you in as soon as possible.”

  Lucy did find it a little odd, but what if it was actually her one shot at becoming a published author?

  Those little stories in the newspaper hadn’t been getting her anywhere. They’d just been a way for her to make just enough money to get by while doing something she loved. And of course, she loved that she’d even been given the chance to do it at all, but Lucy had always known it wasn’t a job she could keep forever. She remembered Victor then, the sweet old man who’d written the Monday story for nearly three decades; how he’d told her on her first day there how he’d always dreamed of becoming an author, but he’d missed his chance and all he’d had left was the paper and his handful of loyal fans.

  And Lucy didn’t want to miss her chance. She didn’t want to end up like all the Victors in the world. She didn’t want to end up stuck ten, fifteen, twenty years down the track, looking back on that moment and regretting such a stupid, tiny decision.

  “Uh, I mean, sure, I guess!” Lucy agreed. She tried to sound confident and sure of herself but she knew she still sounded like some nervous wreck.

  Really though, Lucy supposed she’d done weirder and worse things in a taxi.

  On the way downstairs, Freed tried his best to assure her that not all meetings were such disasters. He really didn’t want to terrify Lucy into never working with an agent again. But it was when they were outside again and he wasn’t trying to savour his breath because even walking down stairs was a bit of an effort, that Freed realised he’d failed to point out just where they’d be going. The last thing he wanted was for Lucy to spend half an hour or more going the opposite direction to where she really needed to be going. He’d much rather just have her reschedule if that was the case. He wasn’t a monster.

  “I feel as if I should’ve mentioned I live in South Magnolia, near Latham Park,” he admitted, making it out onto the busy street and already hailing a passing cab—the only good thing about peak hour, really. “I hope that’s not too far out of your way.”

  “I actually live right next to Latham Park,” Lucy said. Although at that point, Lucy would’ve sat in traffic for two hours if she thought it would help her get her own agent. It wasn’t like she had anything else to be doing that night.

  “Oh! What a coincidence!”

  Freed let Lucy climb into the taxi first before sliding in after, giving the driver his address before reaching into his satchel for his notepad again and flicking through the pages until he found the notes he’d scribbled down while reading Lucy’s manuscript. “Now, a few suggestions so far…” He cleared his throat, skimming the next few pages before looking back up to the passenger next to him and noticing the incredulous look on her face. “What? Is there a problem?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No, no, it’s just… You said 1073 Strawberry Street.”

  “Well, yes. That’s my apartment building. Do you know someone there?”

  Do I know someone there? At that point, Lucy was sure she knew half the building. “I live there,” she answered.

  It was one thing to live in the same district, but to live in the same apartment too? Freed knew he should’ve picked up on it when Lucy’s letter and manuscript had first been assigned to his desk, but he’d always jumped straight into the writing and he’d just gotten so excited that he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else.

  Freed quickly shut his notebook. They could talk about her manuscript later. “Fifth floor. What about you?”

  “Fifth floor!” Lucy said excitedly. But then something dawned on Lucy, because she knew everyone on the fifth floor—everyone except Laxus’s husband. “Wait, are you—“

  “You’re 502!”

  “—in 504?”

  The driver cast a worried glance to his backseat in the mirror. Sometimes he really did just prefer it when the passengers decided it was a good place to make out or just have sex. It was a lot easier to understand than whatever was going on with those two.

  “You made me that soup!” Lucy said. “God, I really loved that soup.”

  “And my husband broke down your door,” Freed added. “Although I am glad you liked it!”

  “How have we not met before, though?”

  “I tend to work late. And Laxus doesn’t like to socialise much.”

  “Huh. You don’t say.” She should’ve guessed Thor wasn’t a socialiser—he was too awkward for that, obviously. “But, wait…” Lucy knew better than to let herself get too carried away and forget why she was really there. “Not to get ahead of myself, but is this… I mean, we’re neighbours, and I called your husband Thor—“

  “I heard about that,” Freed chuckled. He’d been quite irritated by it, too.

  Lucy shook her head. “I didn’t know his name at the time,” she defender herself “But, is that, you know, going to be a problem? I mean, if you think I’m good enough?” Because Lucy wouldn’t be surprised if she’d just blown her probable one chance at getting an agent to like her. Of course the one that does like her enough to meet her is the guy who lives just down the hall from her. Surely she was just cursed.

  Freed sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t see why it would become a problem. Of course, I still have some concerns I’d like to discuss with you, and some suggestions as well. But… As long as personal and professional remain separate, I see no reason why our common neighbours would be a cause for concern,” he explained. If anything though, if things worked out, Freed saw it as an excuse to work from home a little bit more. But Freed didn’t care about talking about Lucy’s work right then. They could do that later on a day he wasn’t running nearly nearly an hour behind. “For now though, please tell me you know something about this mysterious banana bread everyone keeps getting when they move into the building.”

[jasperunbound]

As someone whose favorite Dragon Quest character is Jasper, and has paid close attention to the writing of DQ11, I wanted to write up a post with my sincere thoughts on the idea of Jasper possibly becoming a party member. Putting it under a read more, for length reasons.

So this might not be what people would expect me to say, but, I don't think that making Jasper a party member is particularly deserved. Why do I say this? Two main reasons:

It's not necessary for him to become a party member in order for his character arc to reach a fully developed and satisfying conclusion.

There are other characters whose arcs would benefit far more from becoming a party member.

Don’t let this post fool you into thinking that I'm not absolutely stoked at the thought of Jasper being playable. He's my favorite character from the whole series and I love him, OF COURSE I would love for him to be playable. But rationally, consider his role in the game. He's a villain. He destroyed the protagonist's village, had a part in causing the apocalyptic destruction of the world, and pissed off a bunch of Italians, amongst other things. Not to mention, he dies.

The writers would have to work very hard to come up with a plausible way for Jasper's character to go all the way from that to being a party member. Now it has been done before-- just look at Psaro becoming playable in the DQ4 remakes. But I can't help but think that the extra effort required to make Jasper playable would maybe be better spent developing other characters further.

In my opinion, Jasper is already one of the most complex and interesting characters the Dragon Quest series has ever created. There is a lot of information one can gather about him between all of his appearances in the game, his mannerisms, his backstory, as well as the subtle worldbuilding details surrounding his character. I’ve already made several posts before regarding some lesser known details of his character-- but for one additional example, look at how he still has the book with the coveted Shield of Heliodor that we saw in his childhood flashback, even as an adult:

There are so many deep subtler details like that within the game hinting at who Jasper is beyond what we see of him during the main story, things that hint at what kind of person he is, as well as who he used to be, before he fell into the clutches of darkness.

To make him playable when he’s already so fleshed out as an NPC seems a bit like overkill to me. Especially when taking into consideration the fact that several main characters who are already party members, particularly Jade and Rab, have less characterization and development than him even with party chat taken into consideration. (More lines of dialogue and time spent with a character doesn’t automatically equal more fleshed out-- seriously, why did they not at least get more family bonding moments with the Luminary?)

I do think that regardless of playability, there should be SOME sort of alternate conclusion to Jasper’s character arc that is more satisfying than what we got in the original DQ11-- one in which he redeems himself in some way after acknowledging the error of his ways. In how they killed Jasper off in both timelines, the writers wasted immense potential for interesting character growth and redemption.

But Jasper doesn't need to become a party member to fix that. Even a slightly different outcome where he still dies, but uses his last moments to express remorse and aid the party in some way such as sacrificing himself, could be good if handled well (although obviously because I like him, I would most prefer an outcome where he gets to live and face all the consequences of his actions).

So basically, I’m trying to say that Jasper’s character is already very good, and while I think they should write a more fitting conclusion for him, having him join the party isn't necessary or the definitive best way to go about it. It would be plenty for him to have a redemption arc in which he is still an NPC and is working in Heliodor once more to repair and make up for all the damage he caused, as well as restore his public image. Most of all I would just like for him to be able to express remorse of some kind for his actions to the people he hurt, especially Hendrik.

Now onto my second reason. There are two characters in particular that are also popular candidates for becoming party members who I think would benefit more from becoming playable than Jasper: Mia and Gemma.

In the case of Mia, it's very easy to imagine her becoming playable. She already expresses a desire to travel with the party in the post-game:

And she would fit in seamlessly with very minimal changes to the pre-existing writing. Since she makes her first appearance late in the game during act two, becoming a party member would do a lot to expand upon her character. Erik's characterization would no doubt also benefit.

In the case of Gemma... well... I personally think that she should have accompanied the Luminary from the very start of the game. She goes on and on about how she doesn't want him to leave Cobblestone, and even overdramatically cries in that one cutscene the night before he plans to leave for Heliodor. Common sense begets the question: why the f*ck doesn't she just go to Heliodor with him if she wants to be with him so bad??

To me the way Gemma’s character was written seems very unnecessarily sexist, like the writers just had to have a damsel-y love interest waiting at home for the protagonist or something. If she was a party member she could easily work well as a voice for the silent Luminary, since they had the same upbringing and would likely react similarly to new places and scenarios. She could also develop to be stronger and have character growth independent from the Luminary as well.

But all things considered, it would be way too hard to rewrite her as a party member in that manner, as it would greatly impact the entirety of the game’s writing. But what about the next time we see her, during the beginning portion of the second act? By this point many characters assume that the Luminary is dead. Why not depict her as wanting to honor his memory, wishing that she could have been stronger and gone with him? She could decide to take direct action to prevent losing any more of her friends and family, by enlisting as a militia knight and serving under Hendrik to help defend the Last Bastion.This way she could join the party before or around the same time as Hendrik. It’s just one possible alternative take on her character that I thought up of as an example.

Instead of this ^ she could have a more proactive role in the story.

Overall, Gemma's character truly had a lot of potential for development that went to waste because the writers went against common sense and defaulted her to a stereotypical helpless village girl sort of role. Not surprising considering this is DQ we’re talking about ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but still. If she was made playable her character would have the potential to improve dramatically.

Personally, if I had to pick an NPC, I would want Gemma to be made playable the most. While from a logical/economic standpoint, Mia is the best option. I simply think that considering the time and resources available, making Jasper playable isn’t the best choice for the game. I love him to death but his character has gotten a lot of focus as is, plus writing him in the party would be pretty difficult to pull off properly, so he would be my third choice. (But if they DO make him playable, and write it well... I won’t be complaining, that’s for sure.)

Anyway, that’s all. Feel free to add on with your own thoughts if you’d like.

[storibambino]

Art  and Lessons

A/N: Happy birthday to my boo @therevolution-willbelive This is the first installment of my fics for her birthday bash featuring Shuri and Michelle (Spiderman Homecoming). I barely edited this so if you find a mistake let a sista know.

On Ao3

Warnings: None really. Just some education

Prompt: You pay for your friends

Words: 1.7k

“Are we there yet?” Shuri was growing impatient.

“Princess, we’ve only been in New York for three hours. There will be plenty of time to see everything.” There was a warning in Ayo’s tone but her eyes were soft.

“I am just ready to be out of this vehicle. It’s quite uncomfortable.” Ayo gave a small smile but didn’t respond to the whining princess.

Shuri had good reason to be excited. She was finally able to go out in America without the supervisor of her brother or cousin. Things had been going so well at the institute in Oakland that she was in New York City to scout a new location for expansion. Erik immediately suggested Harlem, citing it was the birthplace of black culture in the city. Shuri had taken to researching the neighborhood and history with such vigor that T’Challa allowed her to go explore without him. It was her first taste of real responsibility in the two years since Erik’s invasion and the battle.

Now she could barely contain herself as the motorcade rode down Malcolm X approaching 135th and she made a point to let the driver know, to the dismay of her Dora Milaje guard. She had reached out to Sam to get an itinerary together. He truly was a bird brain but gave her a list of must-see spots for art, food, and music. The first stop was The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture.  The car came to a stop and Shuri quickly hopped out to get a look at her surroundings.

The city was not so different from her home, albeit a lot greyer. There were a lot more people that looked like her in the area opposed to the Manhattan hotel they would be staying in. Across the street, a statue caught her eye. It was a bronze sculpture of a black family above a burgundy canopy. The mother and father standing proudly with their children in two large hands. It was like they were being presented as a gift by some body-less god. The building itsself wasn’t all that grand but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the statue.

“That’s the Harlem Hospital Center.” The guide’s words startled Shuri.

“Why does it have that sculpture on the front?”

“To remind us that this was all we had at one point. There was a time that black families could only get medical assistance here in Harlem,” The guide cast a far-away look on the building then a bright smile to the princess “My name Is Vardia, I’ll be showing you around today your highness”

“Ah! No need for all that. Today I’m just a teenager on a tour.” Shuri chuckled.

“Fine by me! Will your, um entourage be joining us?”

Shuri glanced over to Ayo and the other personnel charged with keeping her safe. “Give me one moment and we can go in.” She jogged over to Ayo, waiting by the car. “Do you think I could do the tour alone? The place isn’t too big and it’s just art and stuff, no real danger.”

“I have to advise against that,” Ayo said, throwing a curious eyebrow in her direction.

“I promise I will keep my kimoyo beads on and if anything happens I have my tech with me,” She bats her eyelashes and gives her most innocent smile. “This would be a nice opportunity to see the sights and enjoy yourself, you really do work too hard.” Flattery never worked on the Dora but it didn’t stop her from trying. She technically wasn’t lying either, Ayo worked so hard and this was supposed to be as much a vacation for them as a mission.

“Fine. I will see the sights as you suggested but I will not be far.” With that, she gave a salute and got back into the car.

After a celebratory fist pump, Shuri returned to her guide to begin the tour. They entered the building, walking by the security desk and into a lobby with an intricate painting on the floor. There was a sign on the far wall explaining that the mural was supposed to represent different rivers. Five blue streams ran from different corners of the room to the center where a large blue circle outlined a reddish brown center covered in golden arrows and mathematical symbols. Around the center were the names of the rivers depicted. Shuri was able to make out Congo, Mississippi, and Euphrates before the guide motioned for them to move onto the first gallery.

They went downstairs and came to another mural on the wall that read The American Negro Theater. Further down the hall, they came to a room with art on every wall.

“These are works of the students we have here at the research center. The assignment was identity. Feel free to look around at the pieces and listen to the videos the students made to describe their works.”

The collection was as beautiful as it was varied. There were paintings, charcoal drawings, sculptures and a picture that was made up of quotes from an original poem. Shuri spent at least five minutes in front of each one, taking it in and trying to get into the headspace of the artist. She never considered herself an artist although she constantly marveled at the beauty of her technology and machines. There was a slight pang of jealousy at those that could get pick up a pencil or paint brush and put their story and emotions onto a canvas.

Vardia allowed her to take her time with the pieces, periodically checking her email on her phone. Shuri was wearing the provided headphones for a video presentation when she tapped her on the shoulder.

“I’m so sorry about this Shuri but I have to go to an emergency meeting. Feel free to stay down here as long as you like then we can meet in the Black Power exhibit upstairs.” She said apologetically.

“No worries. Go and handle your business and I will be up there.” Shuri smiled and went back to her video. She spent a little more time revisiting her favorite pieces and headed upstairs to the second floor. A security guard greeted her at the entrance of the gallery. He was an older gentleman with soft eyes and a cheery demeanor. He gave a playful warning about not bringing food into the gallery or he would chase her down. However, he didn’t bother getting up from his seat so she laughed it off and walked in. Passing the theatre playing something called ‘Blaxploitation’ movies, she put a mental pin in that to come back to later.

Upon entering the open gallery she was greeted by a large mural, purple background with a solid black fist and the words ‘Black Power!’ written in white.

It was breathtaking, only two words but it was like they carried a weight with them. The gallery itself was filled with posters, excerpts from books and speeches, art, and pictures. She didn’t notice the group of other teenage girls eyeing her while she picked up headphones to listen to s documentary on Angela Davis and the Black Panther party. That was until one of them tapped her on her shoulder. “Hi. It’s almost finished I think then you can have a turn.” Shuri said with a smile.

“I’m not waiting for a turn. I’m trying to figure out what the fuck you’re doing here.” She spat. The girl and her friends couldn’t have been more than seventeen. They were all well dressed and their hair was laid nice in neat puffs, braids, and a twist out. If it wasn’t for her accusing tone Shuri might have thought of them as new friends.

“I’m sorry but what are you talking about?”

“Come on Liz, let’s just leave it.” The girl with the puffs said.

“No, I wanna know what the uppity princess is doing here in little ole Harlem with us regular blacks.” Liz quipped back.

“I am not uppity. I’m Shuri you don’t have to call me princess.” Shuri said in a light-hearted tone and extended her hand. The leader, Liz, just stared at it like she was offered a dead cat. “I’m being polite.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Polite would have been never stepping foot in Harlem. Yo Wakandan ass could’ve stayed overseas, we good over here. Your family sat by while we dealt with shit schools, poverty, violence, not to mention the police and our own government trying to kill us.” She gestured to the exhibit. “This is a testament to US. Everything we did we lost without you or your precious Wakanda”

Shuri just stood there. She didn’t know what to say. This was the first time she’d ever been put in this kind of situation and her entire world was off kilter.

“What’s wrong princess not used to people being honest with you,” Liz said with a smirk. “Or are you not used to people not liking you.”

“I-I was just trying to be friendly.” She said in a small voice.

“Friends?” The girls let out a cackle “I bet you pay for your friends. Yeah, got a royal court of bitches that just laugh at all your jokes and give you compliments.” They laughed again. Heat began to rise in Shuri’s cheeks and tears prickled the back of her eyes.

“Hey! Leave her alone you loser assholes.” The words came from a new girl in the gallery. She was glaring at the group of girls harassing Shuri. “You don’t have anything better to do than bother literal royalty.”

“Stay out of this light bright”

“Ah, of course, we go straight from gatekeeping to colorism. Why don’t you just stop the performative activism and let people enjoy the information here.” Her eyes were intense as she spoke but she lazily tossed her long curls over her shoulder when she was finished speaking.

The girls looked between Shuri and the new girl that saved her. The new girl stood straight as they sized her up. Deciding against continuing their assault they turned to leave, Liz being sure to throw an especially dirty look at Shuri on their way out.

Shuri was still looking at the door when the girl approached. “Don’t worry about them. They just have a lot of misplaced frustration and you were an easy target. I’m Michelle.”

“Shuri.”

“Now that’s over would you like a real tour of the exhibit?” Michelle had a bright smile.

“I would like that very much, Michelle.” Shuri returned the smile.

“Actually, you can call me MJ.”

Part 2

If you enjoyed my writing please reblog and send me some feedback!!

[creideamhgradochas]

Thanks to the lovely @wakandasoldier for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely T, go give her a follow and then show her some love!

These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?

I've loved writing since I was old enough to string sentences together and have it make sense, but the fanfiction part for me didn't start until I was maybe 9 or 10. It's been a long time since then and I only wrote for my personal enjoyment, but I didn't start posting anything on Tumblr until I just did it one day after years of keeping my hobby locked away--on this same blog, believe it or not, and I haven't gone back since. 

2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

As a Reader-Insert writer, the answer might seem obvious but I've always loved conjuring my own characters and bringing them to life in the wake of a new world and I have worked on a few of my own original stories but recently I've been attached to a certain one, so I love a good OC as much as Reader-Insert. 

3) What is your favorite genre to write for?

I love a nice mix of romance and adventure. A story with an intense plot that keeps a reader on their toes as well as having characters fall in love along the way? Sign me up, man.

4) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

The fic I wrote that I am not fond of is also one that became very popular. I honestly think it was poorly written on my part and I would not mind if it disappeared. It's my one-shot called A Hairy Situation.

5) When is your preferred time to write?

I have a hard time focusing at any time of day, but once night rolls around I find it a lot more peaceful and easier to write.

6) Where do you take your inspiration from?

I take inspiration from where I can get it. Sometimes a song will inspire me for a character, maybe a book I've read, and sometimes other writers! 

7) What’s your favorite scene that you’ve written?

I was torn for this one because I love the scene in Before The King where Reader and Steve bust into the deli owner's house and have to squeeze into a tiny bathroom to reach the fire escape, but Steve finds the gun Reader has and wants to give her sh*t for it but can't since Bucky needs backup so he's just like: "We'll talk about this later." And the other scene is in Waters of Chaos in the dreamscape with Reader and Erik where she wants to know who and what he is because he mentions he's immortal and then Erik summons a sandstorm to be extra and reveals he's Horus in all his glory, and the mental image of that man wrapped in gold is truly something. So, it's a tie between Steve having to shut down his dad-mode and Erik being an Egyptian God. 

8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

I haven't received criticisms for my works, but I have gone through and realized there was a few typos or a missing word from a sentence. I'm always open to criticism and feedback, though.

9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?

I really favor Bucky and Steve since they were the characters I initially latched on to and also grew with as a writer. The more I got a feel for the characters themselves and developed my skill, the more I came to love them. Although, T'Challa is always an honor to write for. 

10) Who is your least favorite character to write for? Why?

I think my least favorite character is Vision--writing-wise-- since I find it impossible to figure out his character and personality, but I don't mind writing any other character.

11) How do you come up with the titles for your stories?

Okay, so titles have always just been easy for me and sometimes I've thought of a title and formed the whole story around it.

12) What do you think is the best idea you’ve had for a story so far?

I love the medieval/fantasy genre and story idea for When Winter Came, but also I've been waiting to do an Egyptian Gods AU for the longest time and finally I had the chance to write it, i.e. Waters of Chaos.

13) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Yes, I have plenty of things I've abandoned that I just lost inspiration for. There was one series I had that I stopped writing because the person who requested it was going around to other authors and demanding the same plot and that it be a multi-part fic, so I immediately stopped writing for the series because it not only irritated me, but seemed to be bound to cause problems. 

14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

I wrote a one-shot as a birthday present for a friend of mine that I can't remember the title of, but it was short and sweet with Bucky showing up injured on Reader's doorstep and she patches him up in her bathroom so I would like to continue it one day. 

15) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

I actually don't! At least.. I think I don't, but nothing comes to mind so I'm satisfied with the endings I've dished out. 

16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I could go on and on about some of the wonderful writers who've become good friends of mine on this website, but I have made a few posts recommending quite a few of the writers in the Marvel community that I admire. I greatly admire a few authors as well and I recently read the entire Throne of Glass Series by Sarah J. Maas, so she's become a favorite and then there's been a few others that I can't remember the names of.

17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

I take the time some days to read through what I've posted and it kind of amazes me how far I've come since I first started posting, but I can't help but cringe at it a bit. 

18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

It's impossible for me to write without music and the way it drowns out all other noise around me helps me focus more than silence does. I'm more used to tuning out music, so I not only can get inspiration with songs but write at the same time. 

19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

I haven't cried while writing anything, but I feel that is partly because I already know where I am taking the fic and it kind of ruins it for myself.

20) Which part of your fics have been the hardest to write?

I have a really hard time writing characters crying and struggling with loss because you have to understand a character enough to know the ways they deal with showing raw emotion and how they cope in mourning. I've always had a difficult time showing that.

21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

In all honesty, if I would outline my stories I probably would have an easier time keeping up with everything and being able to see my fics through all the way, but I write as it comes to me so a girl can dream!  

22) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fan-fiction?

If I were to look back and be able to tell myself one thing, it would be that I should be confident in whatever I write because that sh*t is hard to do and whether it's a one-shot or a series I should never lose faith in doing something I love. 

23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

I feel like When Winter Came is a bit of an underdog compared to Before The King, but there isn't as many parts to the Medieval AU so I think I can understand the difference. 

24) In contrast to 23 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

In all honesty, I am pretty happy with the fics that got popular. My writing has gotten decent attention so I'm not complaining. 

25) Are any of your characters based on real people?

Technically, yes? All the characters are the Marvel characters and they look like the actors who play them. 

26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

I am eternally grateful for any compliment I receive! I love every comment I get on a story and can't chose a favorite. 

27) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

I've also been lucky to have not received any harsh criticisms on my work, but I have gotten input from other writers on certain works before I post them. 

28) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

I have always been the type to keep fic ideas pretty private until I'm almost finished, but with my series I have always been open about them. 

29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?

No, not very many people do know that I write fanfiction. I believe the only person is my best friend and she's always been supportive about it. 

30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written?

I have always appreciated writing Sam Wilson as a "minor" character in Before The King. He comes naturally in the story and I'm pretty confident in my characterization of him.

31) What spurs you on during the writing process?

I think it's just my level of focus and how much of the story I have in my head. If I can have 80% of the plot points figured out, then I can get it done. It also depends on how excited I am to bring the story to life, as well. 

32) What’s your favorite trope to write?

My favorite trope is a tie between a nice enemies to lovers fic or a slow-burn fic. Nothing is better than two characters pining after each other for long period of time and dragging the readers through an intriguing story that has two characters admitting they love each other at a perilous time. 

33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

I honestly have no idea what I first read as a fanfic, but I did go through a One Direction phase so I was reading a lot of fanfiction during that time. After that I really got sucked into Marvel and I haven't gone back since.

34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I write more angst than anything else, so the answer is a bit obvious. The reason of choosing it is because smut is always a selective reading choice and a lot of people appreciate fluff, but I feel as though angst is what engages a reader entirely into the story and brings them completely into a character's shoes. As a reader myself, at times, I am more immersed when the story is mostly angst and find myself feeling more emotion than I do to other genres of fanfiction.