#either way i found this gif in my album so y’all have to look at it and remember the horrific repaint ‘dance’ too—

[deus-ex-mona]

no one:

absolutely no one:

windshield wipers on a rainy day:

[jeonstellate]

timestamp: photograph

it’s 12:51 pm when jeonghan finally sees the scrapbook you made for him.

๑彡 yoon jeonghan x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 slice of life!au — character death — angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 0.6K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 this was supposed to be a quick “wtv” nonsense and yet this still took me ages for some reason [*insert clown emoji*]. i hope y’all enjoy, anw <3

"Take a picture, it’ll last longer."

Yoon Jeonghan would always tell you that whenever he caught you staring for a second too long. You never meant to linger your eyes on him, but he somehow always caught you nevertheless.

Instead of constantly defending yourself, you opted to comply to his suggestion — by purchasing a polaroid camera and ensuring that you always had it with you whenever you spent time with him. Thus, as a result, you had collected a scrapbook full of his photographs — some with his knowledge, the rest candidly taken.

Jeonghan knew you had an album filled with polaroids of him, since you had nonchalantly told him so one day when he asked what you had done with all the photos you had taken. Unfortunately, he had not had the chance to see the photo album in question for himself — mostly because you had claimed that you were not done decorating it just yet.

He figured he would see the scrapbook eventually, since you were bound to finish sooner or later and ergo would boast about your artwork then.

He just never expected that particular day to arrive like this: Gloomy. Rainy. Incessant.

And, worst of all, without you.

"[First name] wanted you to have this," the man that introduced himself as your brother handed him a thick book with a blank cover.

Proceeding as though his choice of words did not have an impact on him, Jeonghan changed the orientation of his hold to be more comfortable — just for a neatly folded letter to slip out.

Yoon Jeonghan, it read.

If you’re reading this, it means one of two things: either I survived the surgery or I didn’t. While I sincerely hope the situation is the former, if my brother was the one that handed this to you . . . I’m sorry.

I’m sorry you had to find out this way.

He could not find the strength to read on after that.

You were not his best friend, although you were a close one. Nevertheless, even if you were both at the point of your lives where the people you grew up alongside with follow drastically diverge life paths, at drastically different speeds, he never thought yours would just . . . end.

Yes, you were not his best friend, but there was still pain with the shock brought by the news.

It was a miracle Jeonghan found the strength to move, much less have the courage to finally flip through the scrapbook you left of him.

His emotions were in disarray, as though he was in a rollercoaster that he did not want to ride. His emotions were building up to an unknown with each flip, until he eventually reached a certain page that made his heart drop.

Like some of the previous pages, there was only one polaroid. Unlike all of the previous pages, however, the caption that accompanied that particular picture of him read: the moment I realized I love you.

Jeonghan suddenly felt everything. The emotions that hid themselves within the depths of his being, then ignored to preserve what is— was. The emotions that built up after your brother delivered the news. The regret of being too late.

And then came the realization.

He should have listened to his own words and took pictures of you more, maybe then he would not have been left to solely rely on his homescreen wallpaper to remind him what you looked like in the years to come.

Had he done that, maybe then Jeonghan would not have a blurry candid photo of you as his only memorabilia of how you looked like.

[universalcaffination]

Where It’s At

Highly recommend y’all listen to mister leonard nimoy’s discography because he has a very lovely voice, but there are also some very interesting songs laced throughout!

Where It’s At - written by Cy Coben for the The Way I Feel album released in 1968 - is a favorite example for this. It may have come out 11 years before The Motion Picture of 1979, but I feel like it foreshadows elements of the film in some of its lyrics rather well. Either that, or they looked back at this song and went “huh we should incorporate these themes somehow”

In summary: An unknown person is asking for mister nimoy’s/spock’s answer to the meaning of life and this song is his response, basically. he talks about how he struggled while looking for the answer to this question as well, before his answer came to him suddenly and that it’s love/emotion...

I too have been a prospector wandering through the maze/Buffed by the storms and jagged rocks of life/That tore the nerve ends of my hopes and dreams/And like yours my skin was much too thin to shield me from the inroads of my times

cutting the first few verses out to start here: a brief exploration of how he felt before TMP/during the five year mission or even before then, with the impression that his emotions are painful and overwhelming (and/or how he feels ostracized from vulcan and terran because of his other half), whether that includes all of his emotions or just any romantic feelings

The big machines, the strangling crimson tape/The hate filled moats that keep us from the other seekers/Searching too for the road to where it’s at

we don’t really know why spock leaves starfleet after the five year mission, but the above lyrics could be an insight to his reasoning. starfleet has become restrictive and he feels like he won’t find what he’s looking for in his search for the meaning of life anymore. spock at the beginning of TMP has almost completed kolinahr, which he at the time believes to be the best path to finding his answer. Of course, this is stopped and he joins the enterprise to intercept v’ger

But then, one day, the fog with in my mind began to clear/And for me the truth shown forth as brilliant as a thousand suns

melding with v’ger and experiencing all of the things v’ger’s learned over time, and how the lack of emotion makes all of that knowledge virtually meaningless - overwhelms him with how vibrant/intense it is. he literally gets knocked back in the middle of the meld because its too much all at once. saying that his mind was shrouded in a fog before the meld though is very telling, it suggests that, upon reflection, he can realize that he couldn’t really see what was around him and he was looking in the wrong direction when he left for vulcan and the kolinahr initially.

I had it all along with in my grasp, the answer/So simple that I almost didn’t see it/Its love

mhh learning from the meld that emotions aren’t a bad thing... and that “this simple feeling” he speaks about when grasping kirk’s hand really is love...

Loving someone more than you love yourself, loving so much that you trust, you give and you ask nothing in return/This is the purest form of love/And then/And this is the miracle/If the one your giving to believes as you, you’ve found it/The treasure you’ve been seeking, you’ve found out where it’s at

a great summary of their relationship throughout the five year mission and the movies, this idea that they care so much about one another and it comes in the forms of trust and sacrifice only for them to actually realize that its love after v’ger

~

some of mister nimoy’s albums are spock focused while others aren’t, and the way i feel seems to be a mixture of the two where it’s not always inherently stated that this is a song strictly about the character/universe of star trek, of course...

this song gives me vibes of spock during the second movie or later really, like one of his cadet comes to him asking for life advice and this is what he tells them, as the wise teacher with life experience

And of course, a link to the song itself for you to listen to:

https://youtu.be/qq64ASLfdOw

[adorethedistance]

A Romantic - Alive!Luke Patterson x Reader Modern!AU

JATP masterlist

Requested: Alive!Luke in highschool is just so hopelessly In love with the reader, she’s like the edgy punk who will let nobody know she’s actually soft on the inside and loves romance, so she plays hard to get, Luke does everything he can to get her to notice him, writes her little notes and puts them in her locker, always tries to do group projects with her, etc. She plays hard to get but eventually she caves and hangs out with him to finish a project one night, she finally lets her hard exterior disappear and she ends up confessing to luke she likes him back, it’s all cutesy, then idk they make out lol ✨

Warnings: Swearing, mild anxiety, heated kisses, n Emily Patterson fluff

Words: 2683

A/n: I know I have a few requests ahead of this one, BUT I wanted to get something out since it has been a fat minute since I put a fic out. Hope y’all enjoy this fluffy goodness and my personal spin on what it means to me to be punk.

“Have you ever actually talked to her?”

“Shhh.” I hear the hushed whispers from the boys of sunset curve as I make my way to the back of the classroom. They always sit in the back in a little tripod of desks. Usually, Alex is the one closest to the board so he can actually pay attention, but lately Luke has taken that spot.

“Hey, Y/n,” he greets as I sling my backpack on the left side of my usual blue plastic chair.

“Hey,” I reply, uninterested in holding any further conversation. This telegraphic-sentence for a one-word response back and forth isn’t new. He’s done it every day this last semester, and truth be told, I don’t mind. I actually somewhat look forward to it. Luke isn’t bad looking by any means, and he’s not annoying or rude either. It’s actually kind of sweet. But the fact that Luke doesn’t seem put off by my cold demeanor is what strikes me as odd. No one’s been undeterred by my lack of interest and emotion since... what? The eighth grade?

“How’s your day?”

“Fine.”

“Do you want a pretzel?” Luke offers me one of the large Costco sourdough pretzel things I haven’t had since childhood. I let my subconsciously permanent scowl relax into an almost smile and accept the offer. As I eat the peace offering, I open my bag to retrieve my Gov notebook and set it on my desk with my favorite pencil. When I sit back up, I flip the cover open to make a tally mark on the inside top right corner, next to the redbubble sticker of my favorite band’s most recent album artwork.

I don’t know if he’s caught on yet, but I’ve been keeping track of every time he’s offered me food. This is day twelve and I knew from day three that he’s trying to Pavlov me. It’s not exactly working. I mean, I do get excited to see him, but not because of the food. Before the food, I’d sort of found myself taking an interest in Luke. I thought I was interested in his budding career since sunset curve has been playing the local scene for a little bit. But sitting next to him in gov made me realize that’s not the case at all.

When I slip back into reality, I realize our teacher has already started today’s lecture and frantically flip to the last page I’d written on. I become so invested in my note-taking, I nearly missed the feeling of luke poking my arm with the eraser of his pencil. My eyes connect with his and he nods forward. I tear my gaze from his to see a folded up piece of scrap paper on the right side of my desk.

Mr. Casey is looking down at his computer to use the laser pointer on slides to show us a chart of government spending; I take the compromised position as a greenlight to unfold Luke’s paper. He’s trying to clarify what the sticker is inside my notebook, correctly guessing the album name from a brief glance.

‘yeah. they’re my favorite band.’ I write down quickly, scratching a heart into the paper above the word ‘favorite’, and then hand him the paper. Once he gets the note back, Luke doesn’t bother me for the rest of class.

I sit back against the seat of my chair and observe the mass of notes I just took. I sigh and shake out my hand before pulling my backpack into my lap and putting my stuff away.

“Okay we have a few minutes left in class, so I want to go over the group project guidelines with the remaining time we have.” My head snaps up at Mr. Casey’s mentioning of a group project. Fuck. “This project is going to be a mock election. You will be working in groups of four, simulating working on a campaign team and assign the roles of candidate, campaign manager, press secretary, and finance director. Decide who your partners will be and then send a group representative up to tell me the names of everyone in your group. The rest of the guidelines are printed on a handout, please grab one from the basket on your way out.”

I don’t have friends in this class. What the fuck am I gonna do? I don’t want to fail the project. The anxiety of the situation shortens my breathing, and I just want to curl up into myself and disappear into a cloud of dust.

“Hey!” I feel something poking my bicep. When I take my head out of my hands, I see Luke’s arm extended to prod me with the eraser of his 99 cent mechanical pencil. “Do you wanna be in our group?” I look at him, bewildered.

“What about Bobby?” Tearing my eyes from Luke’s, I spot Bobby being ambushed by a trio of girls from the soccer team. “Oh. Uh, is that okay with Alex and Reggie?” I ask to make sure, in fear of intruding.

“Boys! Y/n is in our group now.” Reggie smiles brightly and Alex nods an acknowledgment. I guess this is my group. I offer a small, uninterested ‘hey’ in contrast to Luke’s excited smile.

“So, we should probably assign roles. To tell Mr. Casey.” Alex pulls out a sheet of paper and clicks his pen open. He looks between the other three of us, ready to write, but no one puts forth any suggestions. I roll my eyes with a sigh and sit up straighter to lean forward.

“I’m campaign manager. Reggie, you’re doing finance director. Alex, you’re press secretary. And I guess that means, Luke, you’re our candidate. Capisce?”

All three boys nod slowly, seemingly intimidated by my initiative nature. Alex copies down our names and roles and looks to me when he’s finished. I hold out my hand lazily to take the paper and push out of my seat. When I approach Mr. Casey’s desk, the rest of the kids who brought up their papers fall silent. I dismiss the childish judgment and wordlessly give the paper to our teacher.

“We can meet at my place after school,” Luke asserts more so than offers. I nod absentmindedly and retrieve my phone from my backpack to text mom where I’m going after school. Car keys in hand, the four of us wait for the period to end, the three of them chatting away and me silently on my phone.

“Y/n?” I hear Reggie call.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to just follow me to Luke’s house or I can give you the address or…?”

“Oh, uh-”

“I can direct her!” Luke pipes up from his seat, startling me in mine. “We can meet you guys there and I’ll just direct her.” I feel bad telling him no, so I agree to let him direct me to his house. The final bell rings and the mass of Los Feliz students flood the exits. Alex hangs back for a second and doesn’t think I clocked the way he’d tugged Reggie back by the backpack handle.

“Hey, you guys go ahead, Reg and I need to talk with Bobby for a sec.” I know exactly what Alex is doing, and he’s caught on to the fact that I know. Luke on the other hand is completely oblivious.

“See you guys there,” I say smugly. Before slinging my bag over my right shoulder and exiting the row of individual desks. Each stride I take is carefree and purposeful. The perk of being intimidating and wearing platform boots is everyone clears out of your way in the halls. I nearly forget I’m not going home after school, that is until Luke comes cheerfully bounding down the hallway by my side. Every time I look at his face, he’s smiling like an idiot and it doesn’t falter when we connect eyes. The prospect of a cute boy being so happy around me makes my face heat up, and I drop my gaze to the asphalt beneath my feet.

“Can we listen to that album that you have on the inside of your notebook? I’ve never heard it before.” Luke pipes up once we’re outside my car.

“Sure.”

Despite requesting to listen, Luke doesn’t do much listening. He’s mouthing off about how power chords are overused and sometimes it just ‘sonically doesn’t work’ and you have to ‘ditch the power chords’ and other things. I wonder how long I can go without talking. Each comment is interjected with directions at every intersection we pass until finally, I’m pulling into the driveway of the Patterson residence. Alex and Reggie arrive only a minute later, solidifying the notion that they didn’t need to talk to Bobby about anything.

“How was your talk with Bobby?”

“Very productive.” Alex counters my point question with a knowing smile. He’s lost the motivation to be secretive which makes me beam in triumph.

“Yeah, I bet.”

Reggie, Alex, and I follow Luke into the one-story L.A. home and are immediately greeted with the smell of fresh-baked cookies.

“I’m home!” Luke hollers as he lets the rest of us into the house and closes the door.

“Mitch?” A second voice calls back from a small distance.

“Luke!”

“I don’t know any Luke.” He leads us towards the voice. The house looks like if you were to google the word ‘home’ and I conclude he’s an only child based on the fact that their mantle looks like he just died. The centermost picture is his senior portrait from this year, and the picture to the left is I’m guessing from Kindergarten.

Luke leads us toward the kitchen in an impromptu single file line, unintentionally placing me in the back for looking at the pictures so long. Entering the space, Luke snags a cookie as his mom, I presume, presses an endearing kiss to the top of his head. He then swings himself up to sit on the white tiles of the kitchen counter next to the sink, behind his mom who’s transferring a batch of chocolate chip cookies onto a serving plate.

“Careful boys these are still hot,” she says as she finishes placing the last cookie on the plate. When she looks up she’s wholly unphased by Alex and Reggie’s presence, but seemingly startled once she spots me lingering behind.

“Luke, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a girl home!” she warmly extends her free hand. I smile bashfully before accepting the shake,

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Patterson. I’m Y/n.” My polite demeanor pleases Emily and somewhat shocks the other boys.

“Oh, please, call me Emily.”

“Why does she get to call you Emily?” Reggie asks, extremely offended and I can’t tell if it’s a bit or not.

“Because I’m sure Y/n is a very refined and poised young lady. You three are hooligans,” she returns her attention to me, specifically the flower painted on the right chest pocket of my denim jacket, “That’s a lovely flower, did you do it yourself?”

“Oh, thank you! I did. It’s my mom’s favorite flower.” The look of adoration painted across her faces causes me to internally fawn over her entire aura. I just hope she doesn’t see the black lettering across the back panel that reads F*CK THE SYST*M’. After her moment of admiration expires, she moves to place the used baking sheet in the sink.

“Did you guys replace Bobby?”

“Bobby has groupies now so we cut him loose to maintain our spotless image.” Luke’s sarcastic comment makes Emily swat his shoulder with the back of her hand. They both laugh gently and share a look of genuine affection. The moment is so endearing. The way Luke smiles at her is precious and I feel myself unintentionally swoon a little bit.

“We needed her for a Gov project after Bobby ditched us.”

“I see. Well, help yourselves to some cookies. I’ve got an entire second batch of dough in the fridge and I need to get rid of them.” Emily allows us to head off to work on the project but not without a plate of cookies for us to share.

The next three hours were spent discussing which hot button issues on the sheet would be at the forefront of our campaign. Luke was playful but overall sincere about spearheading his campaign with a focus on LGBT+ rights and women’s rights. We talked over how he would handle himself in the debate round, and how we would execute an ad reminiscent of the Bush-era filmography style.

By the end of the session, we were in a good place to pick up the work in class tomorrow. Alex was being summoned home for dinner, and Reggie as his ride had to go with him consequently. Luke and I still wanted to brainstorm ideas for the advert, so I decided to stay a little bit longer. As we talked rhetorical strategies, Emily comes in to briefly announce she’s going to the store for more cooking spray, and that ‘Mitch won’t be home ‘til late’; she eyes Luke in a manner that’s anything but inconspicuous.

She leaves the door open as she goes. By now, there’s only one cookie left on the plate, and I’m staring at it, wondering whether or not I’ll eat the whole thing. Luke clocks my indecision and picks up the cookie. He takes a bit out of it before satirically looking up at me,

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want some?” He asks before taking another huge bite out of it.

“Are we playing a game? Is this fun for you?”

“Indulge me.” Two more seconds and it’s gone, so I move closer holding out my hand with an expectant look. Luke looks at me in false confusion. He then wickedly places half of the remaining piece between his teeth and sits back with his weight between both hands, flat on the ground. He doesn’t move but merely holds the treat tantalizingly between his lips, gauging my reaction. I bite back the urge to smile. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m also having fun.

Leaning forward, I come face to face with Luke, close enough to feel the steady breaths he exhales. We’re caught in a staredown of sorts with all sorts of sexual tension electrifying the atmosphere. My eyes flit down from his own, to the baked good held in his mouth, and back up to his waiting gaze. Challenge accepted.

I don’t give myself the opportunity to chicken out and move to bite off the other half of the cookie. As I allow myself to linger in Luke’s personal bubble, the delicacy breaks and I move the rest of it into my own mouth before I feel Luke gently press his lips to mine. He dawdles in the kiss before pulling away. I sit back on my heels with a small smile of satisfaction, finishing the cookie piece before looking back to Luke.

He seems… breathless? Stunned? What is this look?

I don’t have time to figure it out before Luke takes my jaw between his thumb and forefinger to envelop me in a sensational second kiss. He’s not heavily salivating or weirdly dry, and he’s not trying to shove his tongue down my throat, so I’m gonna count this one as a win. As the kiss progresses, I tangle my right hand in the back of his hair, almost gripping the fringe to establish control. We’re doing this at my pace. The sensuality of our synchronized movements is overwhelmingly blissful; I tug the bulk of Luke’s bottom lip between my teeth as I pull away. When we pull apart Luke is smiling a blissed-out version of his usual dopey grin and I exhale a laugh in disbelief.

“I didn’t think you liked me like that, Y/l/n.”

“What, I don’t strike you as a romantic?”

“It’s the jacket.” Luke shrugs as he friskily plays along.

“Nothing says romance quite like anarchy.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

***

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[nosferatyou]

If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 5 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Shes back in Nashville and Ben finally drags Lee out to a Third Man show. To Lee’s surprise, she runs into an old friend...

WC: 3k

Warnings: Cigarettes, maybe cursing (?), and death by Jack White. 

Notes: Damn y’all its my best chapter to date. Honestly im pretty damn proud of this. Also why is jack white so damn hard to write. Is he a hard ass with a heart of gold, or a dad who happens to play guitar. When i figure it out ill let you know. PS. If you find my fic reference (or fic rec for anyone who hasn’t read it) shoutout to you. If youre anything like me you read the whole series in two days and couldn’t think about anything else. You probably also looked up Rosaries for sale.

This was 14 years in the making. We were bound to run into each other again. I was expecting it in a weird way. It always works out that way; you get over old turmoil, and the moment it’s gone, they show up. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, and you’re practically drowning on the spot even though you’re not even near water. Every single emotion in your being is trying to cram through your mouth, and you end up choking on it. Who knew it’d be today I die a death by Jack White. Guess I ran that risk when I entered his stomping grounds. 

“Lee, I swear I didn’t know he’d be here. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known. I’m gonna buy you any record in the store, whatever you want. Oh god, how am I going to fix this? Guess I could do emergency distraction plan #6. Though id need a knife-” I subtly flicked the back of his arm to shut him up. His panicked ramblings were only making me more nervous. He was here, actually here. I guess I just thought I'd have a couple more years of peace. 

He was staring so intensely at me, but not in anger or guilt. He was nervous. He was frozen and rigid. He was always so loose and eased into a room. Even when he was anxious, it never showed. As soon as I gained something from the absolute shock of it, all my body went against my brain. I felt my legs start to make their way over to him shakily, and there was no stopping them. Fuck I didn’t will this happen. Panic was bubbling up in my chest again. It didn’t help that he wasn’t reacting other than his eyes growing larger with each step I took. Finally, I reached him, and my arms tightly wrapped around him. This was better than the alternative that I thought would happen, which would end with a shiner and some bruised knuckles. He hadn’t grown length, but as I finally felt it all, I realized he'd grown into a man, out of his boyish figure from all those years ago. I sank into it, warm feelings bubbling up in my chest. I could finally breathe for a moment. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but I met his eyes when I looked up at him, and all I could see was pure shock. I don’t think he would’ve moved if someone yelled fire. 

He mumbled, “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private to talk, Rosie.”  I quickly nodded my head, and all that anxiety came back as soon as it was gone. I did not appreciate this little roller coaster I was on. He put his hand on my back to softly guide me to wherever we were going. It was a painfully silent walk as we weaved through Third Man. My brain kept flashing back to all the moments of our short end, mixing with all the good memories it made for a weird emotional cocktail. The more I thought about how little time we’d actually known each other, I got even more panicked. A year. That’s it, and I still acted like we were childhood friends who wronged each other. I shouldn’t be feeling all of this over a man who had such little time in my life. Still, that doesn’t change that he was at the forefront of my mind for all those years after. God, his hand was burning me where it lay. 

I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the spot until his words broke my thoughts. “Welcome to the Third Man roof, my secret spot, if you will.” I looked up to see a couple of lawn chairs and a crate between them, acting as a makeshift table. Cigarette butts strewed around the chair farthest from the edge. Jack was already walking towards what I assumed to be his chair. In tow, I followed, pulling my pack out of my pocket and lighting a cig. If this was going to happen, I was going to need a goddamn cigarette. He grimaced at the sight of Marlboros, pulling out his pack. Red Camels, still the same all these years later. Somethings just don’t change. Guess that’s comforting. 

“I thought you were a camels girl. What happened there?”  He was already reaching for another to hand to me. 

“Oh, just had to settle when on tour for whatever others had. It just stuck, I guess…” A lie. I put mine out on the ground when I sat down and grabbed the nostalgic camel out of his hand, our fingers barely touching. 

We sat in silence, smoking a piece of our past. I sure as hell didn’t know where to start, and I don’t think he did either. My body took over just as it had before and did what I couldn’t manage. I was blurting out words before I knew what was happening. 

I stumbled out, “I bought all your records over the years.” Smooth.

A small smile fell onto his face, and he took another drag. “I did the same thing.” He looked over at me, quickly looked me over, then took a quick drag and put it on on the ground. “Have a favorite?”

I pretended to think like I hadn’t thought of having a favorite. “I guess I’d have to say Consolers of the Lonely, but if we’re talking The Stripes, I’d have to say De Stijl. Though I always feel like I should say your first, since you know, I’m on it.” I sent a small smile his way and started to ease into my seat more. Not sitting up so straight, ready to bolt at any moment. “What about you, Jack? Hm? Have a Rosalie Wright favorite?” 

He answered without hesitation, “Surrender. I really liked that sound you had in 2004, where you got dirty and loud. It was a big change from your old blues tone. Someone told me it was because you moved to New Jersey, which honestly makes sense.” He stopped for a second and looked off. “That band, Leathermouth. When that album dropped, I played it when I was working in the upholstery shop, and Karen walked in. She turned right around after hearing, I think... My love has gone flat? I don’t know, but she asked me if I was doing okay at dinner that night.” He quietly laughed to himself, thinking over the memory.

“Anyone who wasn’t in the band asks me the same thing! They all said, “Hey, your new albums great! How are you doing? You need someone to talk to?” My smile fell. “Too bad all the guys found god. Nothing against that, of course! Just sucks they had to quit the band. Not Frankie, though. He wouldn’t find god even if he came to him on a piece of toast. I’d probably take some freak case of Stigmata for him even to consider it… Why am I still talking?” I blushed, realizing I'd been rambling too long about nothing that probably interested him

 Jack waved his hand in the air to dismiss my worries. “We’ve got years to catch up on, Rosie. Besides, I’ve missed your ramblings.” He lit two more cigs, handing one over to me. His stare lingered on me, and his eyes softened from his stoic face. “I really have missed you, Rosie… All these years and I’m still not quite sure what you’ve been up to. I’ve only heard things here and there from Ben.” He took a long drag. “Where have you been all this time?” 

I took a deep breath in, knowing the answer wouldn’t be the best. I spent a fair amount of drinking myself into oblivion over something he caused, so I kept my answer brief, “Oh, you know, toured, drank, slept in fans and friends basements. You know, a typical musician’s life. Oh! Got put on the FBI watchlist over a Leathermouth song. That was a fun night for Frankie and me.” 

He chuckled, put out his cig, and turned his body towards me. The same warm smile was adorning him. As I said, some things just don’t change. “I mean, I don’t know what you expected when you play a song with that title. It’s one of the only things you legally can’t say.” 

“Punk is punk, Jack. Too bad I was only playing guitar. I would’ve loved to scream that.” I put my cig out and put all my attention towards him. I hadn’t thoroughly looked at him the whole time we were up there. “It was hard not to stay caught up with you, Jack. You were everywhere. I tried not to pry, though. I never trusted the press. Though I heard about the divorce last year… I’m sorry you had to go through that again.” 

His smile faltered, and he stared down at his hands for a second. “It was inevitable. We were too different for it to last. I guess this shit always happens for a reason, huh? We just fell out of love, and that was that. I had a party to commemorate new friendships and everything. At least she can’t hide my Billie Holiday records now…” He trailed off on that last sentence. I could barely hear it, but I caught the small comment. He still thought about me. I didn’t mention it though. I could barely think back to the old memories. Me making him dance with me to Billie Holiday's self titled album. I guess I just wanted to feel like we were really together back then, creating that fantasy. I felt like I had to wave my imaginary hands around in my head to clear out the memories that had risen to the surface. He was making it so hard to have a clear head.

We stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed lost in his thoughts. We were always good at comfortable silences. I think we just liked being in each other’s presence, having that person next to you. It was weird to think that I only had these old images of him to think back to. He looked so different. He was built, his face filled out, his height would make him look skinnier than he was back then. He’s muscular, probably from years of touring with heavy equipment. He looked his age. His eyes hadn’t changed though. His face was almost menacing for how serious it naturally rested. His eyes stayed bright, excited for everything ahead of him. He always hid that, and he probably still does. 

“I’m sorry, Rosie. For everything that happened. It was selfish of me to -” I cut him off. This was for another day. I don’t think I could handle drudging up the past tonight.

“Make it up to me some other time. I just want to enjoy you tonight.” I sent a smile his way and went to stand up. “Better make it good though.” I went to lean against the wall to take in the Nashville skyline I missed so much. 

I heard the gravel crunch underneath his shoes as he made his way next to me. His lighter clicked, and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air. Moments later, he appeared next to me, cigarette in hand, ready for me to take. He clicked his lighter on and offered it out for me to light. I leaned in close and took a heavy drag. My eyes caught his left hand, cupping around the flame. No ring. It really was done, no lingering feelings. I moved back to lean against the small wall, leaning my head against my hand. I tried not to focus on the emotions that stirred in me when I noticed the absent metal on his finger.

“I really did miss this. Detroit was beautiful, but it never could beat the Nashville skyline. Maybe I was just missing home.” I finally got to take in the scenery around us. September in Nashville has never really been cold. I feel like I should be worried about that, but if I can avoid a sweater, I will. It was a comfortable kind of warm. You could sit out on your porch and not think about a thing. The small breeze was nice, taking away from the constant humidity. Then there was that constant. It never felt like Nashville’s downtown ever changed from far away. It was just stuck in time. The deeper you go, the more you realize the magic of music city is being taken over by honky tonks and drunk bachelorettes. Though the farther you drift away, the more you can feel like you're in the good ole days of classic Nashville. Back when the Ernest Tubb Record Shop didn't have a constant flow of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands but had undiscovereds like Loretta. Now you just have to settle for the sights and the small music scene curated by The End. 

“Is it bad I feel the same way? Even if it’s not home home, it still feels like it. I think the skyline reminded me of coming home after long tours. It’s always the first thing you see. It’s a comfort.” 

We weren’t touching technically, but our shoulders were so close I could feel it. I think he was deliberately keeping his space. I should be mad or angry. Something. But the feeling of him next to me was just as calming as the views. That same feeling of home lulling you in. He always felt like that to me. That dumb warm feeling in your chest that makes heavier days just a little lighter. It’s a bit shameful that I feel it all now, just as strong as back then. 

“You know the only reason I came tonight is because Ben told me you wouldn’t be here. Something about your kids,” I took a drag. “Not that I regret coming! I just- Kids. How fucking weird is that? Never pictured you with kids. I always saw you as the same lanky kid from before.” 

He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his own. “You know I found it odd you never had any. I mean, you were always weirdly maternal with Ben back when he was a teenager. You about took my head off when I told you I gave him a couple of beers. Oh, and those times I practically had to rip Jasper out of your arms after we got home from one of our first tours.” 

“He was 16! His brain wasn’t fully formed yet, plus your mom would’ve murdered you.” I gave his arm a small playful hit and took another drag. “And I just haven’t had the time. Or the means to. I mean, I dated like two guys? Both were shit bag roadies who lasted all of two weeks. I kissed Frankie once, but the moment it ended, we about threw up. He’s a different kind of family. His kids call me Auntie Lee if that says anything.” 

The conversation ended at that, and we fell back into our silence. I looked over and saw a small, content smile on his face that I was so used to seeing. Some things just don’t change.

 It feels weird sitting here with him. We both were so happy to see each other. We just wanted to enjoy this time. At least, I think he’s the same way. He seems guarded, it’s subtle, but that wall is there. He used to be like this, but for different reasons. Secret wife reasons. I can only assume that now it’s the fame he’s been showered with. You can't show all your feelings with recognition like that. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him checking his watch. He muttered out shit when seeing the time. 

Exasperatingly he said, “Speaking of kids, I’ve got to get home. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I promised Scarlett I'd be home to say goodnight.” 

My smile faltered a little, but my heart grew at the comment about scarlet. He’s always loved so hard. It was only natural that he would be a good father. 

We both put out our cigs and silently made our way out to where his car parked. I just mindlessly followed along, definitely not thinking about him and how wonderful he probably was with his kids. 

When we got there, we just kind of stood there. Neither of us knew how to say goodbye. It was never something we did.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight, Rosie. Seriously.”

My body betrayed me, just like it had in the recording room. I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly, except this time, I could enjoy it a little more. His frame was so warm compared to the chilly September night. He finally wrapped his arms around me and practically threw himself into the embrace. He had no hesitation whatsoever. I nuzzled my face into his chest, a bit too shamelessly, but this was 14 years in the making. 

When we finally (and hesitantly) pulled away, he asked, “ Listen, I don’t think I can just walk around town knowing you’re here and not see you. Can we get coffee or something? I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.” 

I felt a giant smile fall onto my face. I was afraid this whole time we would just kind of say goodbye and not talk again. It was dumb to feel so happy over a small gesture, but it was just what I was looking for. He was infectious back then, and he is. Once you fall back into his circle, you never wanted to leave. “I’ll agree to coffee only if,” I gave him a playful poke in the side, “you help me fix my amp. I can usually do it, but I really did a number on her this time.” I held out my hand for him to shake. It’s not a deal if you don’t shake on it.

“It’s a date then.” A small smile appeared on his face, and he grabbed my hand to shake it.

“It’s a date.” We stood their just shaking hands and smiling at each other. We probably looked insane from far away, but who cares. Me and Jack were on the road to reasonable terms.

Tag list: @shamoane @elinyaes

[blackpoliglota]

🎶Música/Musique/音樂🎶

A friend of mine went on Instagram a few weeks ago and asked her mutuals for international music suggestions.  Naturally, ya neighborhood Black linguist right here responded immediately... despite seeing the post at about 4am her time in Madrid 😭  After having given my friend the lengthy (... or not-so-lengthy) list of artists I listen to on the daily, I decided to make a post about this!  So without further ado, here is my list of artists I listen to, as well as some of my favorite songs by them!  Album titles are in parentheses after the song titles.  And feel free to click on any song title you’d like to listen to!

SPANISH 🇵🇷🇨🇱🇨🇺

Calle 13 🇵🇷

I first came across Calle 13 through Shakira’s song “Gordita” from her album Sale El Sol waaaaaay back in 2010, but it wouldn’t be until my senior year in college (2019) when I started listening to their stuff.  Now I listen to literally ALL of their songs, but some of my favorites are:

“Latinoamerica” Feat. Totó La Momposina, Maria Rita y Susana baca (Entre Los Que Quieran)

“Digo Lo Que Pienso” (Entre Los Que Quieran)

“Muerte en Hawaii” (Entre Los Que Quieran)

“Todo Se Mueve” Feat. Seun Keti (Entre Los Que Quieran)

“El Aguante” (MultiViral)

“Multi_Viral” Feat. Kamilya Jubran, Tom Morello y Julian Assange (MultiViral)

“Cuando los Pies Besan el Piso” (MultiViral)

“Los Idiotas” (MultiViral)

“Perseguido” Feat. Biga Ranx (MultiViral)

“Que Lloren” (Los De Atrás Vienen Conmigo)

“Gringo Latin Funk” (Los De Atrás Vienen Conmigo)

“La Perla” Feat. Rubén Blades y La Chilinga (Los De Atrás Vienen Conmigo)

“Fiesta de Locos” (Los De Atrás Vienen Conmigo)

Residente 🇵🇷

One half of the act Calle 13, Residente made his solo career debut in 2017 with his self-titled album, the album that actually reintroduced me to Calle 13 in 2019.  Residente also has several released singles here and there, some of which being products of collaborations with Bad Bunny and others.  Here are some of my favorites from him:

“Guerra” (Residente)

“Apocalíptico” (Residente)

“Dagombas en Tamale” (Residente)

“Somos Anormales” (Residente)

“El Futuro Es Nuestro” (Residente)

“Bellacoso” Feat. Bad Bunny (Bellacoso - Single)

“Cántalo” w/ Ricky Martin y Bad Bunny (Cántalo - Single)

“René” (René - Single)

Danay Suárez 🇨🇺

In my last semester at my college I took a class called Afro-Latin History, a class I wish I found out about much sooner than I did.  That class seriously had me questioning my choice in major... IN MY LAST SEMESTER!!!  Seriously, EASILY one of the best classes I’ve taken in my entire life, no exaggeration.  ANYWAY (getting of topic, my bad 😅), in one class we were discussing a book called Negro Soy Yo (= Black I Am)  in which the author (Marc D. Perry) relates how hip-hop and rap are used to explore Cuba’s racial structure alignment and how it shifts along with the state’s change from a revolutionary socialist state to one functioning under capitalism.  Being inspired from such an interesting read, I decided to look for more Afro-Cuban musicians to listen to.  Next thing I know, I have Danay Suárez playing in my ear.  My favorite songs from her are:

”Closer Now” Feat. The Idan Raichel Project (Palabras Manuales)

“Integridad” Feat. Stephen Marley (Palabras Manuales)

“Yo Aprendi” (Polvo De La Humanidad)

“Las Bala” Feat. El B. (Palabras Manuales)

Ana Tijoux 🇨🇱

It’s thanks to 2 of my college friends that I learned about Ana Tijoux.  This Chilean rapera (= rapper) came to Scripps – one of the Claremont colleges; I went to Pomona – to give a talk about how she uses her music to communicate her political views (trash talking capitalism... my kind of political view) and to promote social justice, to keep it short and sweet.  These are my favorites from Ana Tijoux:

“1977” (1977)

“Somos Sur” Feat. Shadia Mansour (Vengo)

“Vengo” (Vengo)

“Antipatriarca” (Vengo)

“Creo en Ti” Feat. Juanito Ayala (Vengo)

“Oulala” (1977)

“Cacerolazo” (Cacerolazo - Single)

“Antifa Dance” (Antifa Dance - Single)

Ibeyi 🇨🇺(🇫🇷)

Now discovering Ibeyi happened completely randomly... through a targeted Facebook video placed on my timeline.  It was their music video of the song “Me Voy” featuring Mala Rodriguez that appeared.  No long story here: I watched it, became intrigued, looked them up to find that they’re *AFRO-CUBAN (and French) artists, became more intrigued, searched for and listened to more of their music, and ultimately fell in love with their sound.  The way their voices are so in sync with each other is ethereal; together they sound celestial!  Some of my favorites from them are:

“Me Voy” Feat. Mala Rodriguez (Ash)

“I Carried This for Years” (Ash)

“Deathless” Feat. Kamasi Washington (Ash)

“River” (Ibeyi)

“Behind the Curtain” (Ibeyi)

French 🇧🇪

Stromae 🇧🇪

I can’t exactly remember how I came across Stromae... I believe it was through a childhood friend of mine??  I know for a fact that she did mention him to me at some point before I started actually listening to his songs, but I’m not sure if it was via those conversations how I became motivated to give his music a try 🤔 Either way, I ended liking his music enough to listen to it constantly!  Here’s what kept me listening to Stromae:

“Papaoutai” (Racine Carrée)

OOOOOOOH I JUST REMEMBERED!!! 😃😃😃 It was through Pentatonix’s arrangement of his song “Papaoutai”!  I found myself loving their version and became curious of where they found this song to arrange.  Okay, back to the list:

“bâtard” (Racine Carrée)

“tous les mêmes” (Racine Carrée)

“carmen” (Racine Carrée)

“avf” (Racine Carrée)

“Dodo” (Cheese)

“Peace or Violence” (Cheese)

“Je Cours” (Cheese)

Portuguese 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

Flavia Coelho 🇧🇷

I can’t thank God (and app developers) enough for an app like Shazam; if it wasn’t for this magical app, I wouldn’t have found out about Flavia Coelho.  By pure circumstance, I heard her song “Na Favela” on the radio while taking an uber to somewhere while back in college (sometime during senior year) in Southern California (MAN do I miss being out there 😭).  Fast forward to right after graduation, where I find myself in New York City: I'm out here for my college’s glee club tour, for which we had evening performances and free time during the day.  One day, I decided to go running in Central Park, and part of my preparation for any run consists of finding the right music to run to.  Normally I go with fast-paced, up-beat, arrogant rap stuff, but decided that I wanted this run to be an easy-going, enjoyable one – a run in which I’m not trying to improve my pace.  “What better music to listen to than Flavia Coelho’s,” I think.  Plus, it gave me an excuse (and plenty of time) to listen to an artist I recently discovered at the time.  Thanks to the run, I found a few favorite songs by her:

“Na favela” (Sonho Real)

“Se ligue” (Sonho Real)

“Paraiso” (Sonho Real)

“Por Cima” (Mundo Meu)

“Quer Vadiar” (Sonho Real)

“Leidi” (Sonho Real)

“Pai de Santo” (Mundo Meu)

I couldn’t find a more aurally-polished version of the song on youtube, so apologies!

“O Dom” (Mundo Meu)

Sergio Mendes 🇧🇷

Ooooh the great Sergio Mendes.  To be completely honest, there’s not much I can say about him except that I know he’s one of Brazil’s greatest and world-renown musicians... and that I came across him through the Wii game Samba de Amigos.  I couldn’t tell y’all how bad I wanted that game when I was 11... GOOD LORDT, WHEN I was ELEVEN!?  GOODNESS, how time passes! 😱 ANYWAY, there was one song I always played on that game called “Magalenha”.  At the time I didn’t know it was a Sergio Mendes song – when I looked it up, the artist that kept coming up was someone named Bellini and Mendoça do Rio.  So what happens next?  Well of course I download the song (FOR FREE and illegally thanks to L*mew*re... rip) and conduct even further research on those two artists I first found.  All of this searching would ultimately lead me down a web hole that led me to Sergio Mendes.  I admittedly have not listened to enough of his stuff, but here are a few that I currently fancy:

“Fanfarra” Feat. Alceu Do Cavaco (Brasileiro)

“Magalenha” (Brasileiro)

“What is This?” (Brasileiro)

“Simbora” Feat. Carlinhos Brown (Magic)

“Samba de Roda” Feat. Aila Menezes & Gracinha Leporace (Magic)

“One Nation” Feat. Carlinhos Brown (Magic)

“Mas Que Nada” (Mas Que Nada)

Carlinhos Brown 🇧🇷

It’s thanks to Sergio that I came across Carlinhos Brown... now how exactly did I find out about Senhor (=Mr.) Brown through Senhor Mendes, I'm not sure; there were so many opportunities for this to have happened!  I mean, if you take a look at all of Sergio’s music, you’ll find LOADS of collaborations between him and Carlinhos Brown.  Also, bruh, I thought I loved Sergio’s stuff when I stumbled upon it... sorry Sergio, but my love for you doesn’t hold a candle to my LOVE for Carlinhos Brown!  Here are some of my favorites that I still listen to (and futilely try to dance the samba to... can someone teach me please??) on a regular basis:

“Afroascendente” (Marabô)

I couldn’t this song on youtube, so if y’all are subscribed to any music streaming services, look it up on there.  Apologies!

“Vidacarnaval” (Marabô)

“Carlito Marron” (Carlinhos Brown E Carlito Marron)

“Fofoqueira” (Mixturada Brasileira)

“Mixturação” Feat. Ivete Sangalo (Mixturada Brasileira)

“Ói Pra Cá” Feat. Filhos de Gandhy (Ói Pra Cá - Single)

“Mulemba Xangóla” in collaboration w/ Bonga & Marisa Monte (Onda Sonora: Red Hot + Lisbon)

“Ô Vida” Feat. Nina de Freitas (Rio 2: Music From The Motion Picture)

“Sapo Cai” Feat. Mikael Mutti (Rio: Music From The Motion Picture)

Emicida 🇧🇷

Another Afro-descended artist doing his thing, Emicida is one of my favorite types of artists: a conscious rapper.  I know this by looking up translations of his songs... cause ya girl ain’t got NO understanding of Portuguese to be listening to songs and be like “oooh that was clever!” like she does with Calle 13... BUT I’’L GET THERE, THIS I SWEAR!!!  Emicida is still fairly new to me; I found his stuff thanks to Ibeyi (from the Spanish section above).  Regardless, I still have few songs from him I listen to often:

“Libre” Feat. Ibeyi (AmarElo)

“Principia” Feat. Pastor Henrique Vieira, Fabiana Cozza & Pastoras do Rosário (AmarElo)

“Eminência Parda” Feat. Jé Santiago, Papillon & Dona Onete (AmarElo)

“AmarElo (Sample: Sujeito de Sorte - Belchior)” Feat. Majur & Pablo Vittar (AmarElo)

“Hacia El Amor” Feat. Ibeyi (Hacia El Amor - Single)

Japanese 🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵

OOP, what’s that I hear?  It’s ANIME TIME!!!  LOL jk... BUT to be fair, I say this because literally all of the Japanese songs that I listen to come from a bunch of anime series I’ve seen throughout the past 10 years.  So yeah, get ready to experience a bit of my weeb years, heh heh.  I’m gonna categorize the songs by anime series title instead of by artist name:

Fullmetal Alchemist 🦾🙏🏾⚡️

“Melissa” by Porno Graffiti (Porno Graffiti’s Best Blues)

“Ready Steady Go!” by L’arc-En-Ciel (Smile)

“Rewrite” by Asian Kung-Fu Generation (Sol-fa)

“Period” by CHEMISTRY (Chemistry 2001-2011)

“Uso” by SID (SID 10th Anniversary BEST)

“Let It Out” by Miho Fukuhara

“Shunkan SENTIMENTAL” by Scandal (Temptation Box)

 Bleach 🗡💀

“*~Asterisk~” by Orange Range (Natural)

“D-tecnoLife” by UVERworld (Neo Sound Best)

“Ichirin no Hana” by High and Mighty Color

“Alones” by Aqua Times (Darekanochijoue)

“After Dark” by Asian Kung-Fu Generation (World World World)

“Chu-Bura” by Kelun (Kelun)

“Shoujo S” by Scandal (Scandal Show)

“Animarossa” by Prono Graffiti (Trigger)

“chAngE” by Miwa

“Ranbu no Melody” by SID (Ranbu No Melody)

“BLUE” by ViViD (INFINITY)

“Harukaze” by Scandal (Scandal)

“Tsumasaki” by ORESKABAND (ORESKABAND)

“Gallop” by Pe’zmoku

“Haruka Kanata” by UNLIMITS 

Soul Eater 💀🎃⛓🗡

“Resonance” by T.M. Revolution

“Papermoon” by Tommy heavely6

“I Wanna Be” by Stance Punks

“Bakusou Yume Uta” by Diggy-MO’ (DX 10th Anniversary All This Time 2008-2018)

“Strength.” by Abingdon Boys School (ABINGDON ROAD)

Kill La Kill 🗡✂️👙

“Sirius” by Eir Aoi

“Ambiguous” by GARNiDELiA (Ambiguous - Single)

“Gomen ne, Iiko ja Irarenai” by Miku Sawai

“Sanbika” by Eir Aoi

Annnnd DONE!  Congrats on making it through this SUPER long post!  Again, this is some of the music in other languages I listen to on a regular basis; you can click on any of the song titles to listen to them in their entirety if you’d like.  Also, if any of y’all have any recommendations on what I should listen to – especially if it’s in Mandarin or French, considering a Mandarin section is nonexistent and the French section is just sad compared to the others 😭 –please reach out!  I’d love to hear what you guys listen to, so let’s start up a little music exchange, yeah?  Cool.  Here’s to finally finishing this post that’s taken me EONS to complete!

乾杯 (gān bēi)! 🥂

[babygirlofwakanda]

Not Gon Cry | Chapter 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS — Chapter One Chapter Two

CHARACTERS — Black! Reader X M’Baku X T’Challa

CONTENT — Trials Of Black Love, Adultery, Broken Vows and Marriage, Humiliation and Manipulation

PLOT — Based off of the song, “Not Gon Cry” by Mary J. Blige on her Share My World album. This is strictly based off of the lyrics, but a little twist. In addition, I STRONGLY suggest listening to this song on REPLAY while reading to get further feels, but hey..

NARRATIVE — A week has passed since you left Gorilla City and word has quickly spread around the country about the rumored separation with you and the Great Gorilla. From local news reporters, gossip blogs and social media they have been covering the story as they desperately tried to dig for information.

However, aside from the nosy journalists you were focused on protecting the innocence of your children as everyday they’d seem to have detailed questions about your split and continued to tell you about the rumors they heard circulating from tribe to tribe.

Who wants to talk to their kids and hear them ask, “—Umama, why did you and utata split?”

Or tell you, “—I heard a council member say that utata was caught in bed with a hooker. What’s a hooker, umama?”

Whenever you saw them you prepared yourself to sugar coat the answers to any of their questions.

Meanwhile, after you left the Jabari kingdom and travelled into the city you found yourself staying at a luxurious villa courtesy of King T’Challa after making one call. Besides, him being the understanding King of Wakanda that he is, didn’t want to hear about you struggling to find a place of for you and your kids.

Furthermore, the villa he gifted you had everything you needed and more as it was as a two-story home with threee bedrooms and two bathrooms. Coming fully furnished with a pool attached and vibranium infused technology wired throughout the villa courtesy of Shuri.

After showing you the villa he insisted that you stay close to the palace that way if you needed anything or if an emergency occurred he would be close by.

Finding the double meaning behind his words you shook off the warm feeling inside before he departed leaving you with a soft peck on the cheek and a firm hug. Not having energy to question his motives you left it at that and started to unpack your belongings.

With your favorite record playing you sung the lyrics to Mary J Blige as you danced throughout the home.

Wanting your children to be as comfortable as possible seeing as though their parents were going through a nasty separation you wanted to introduce them to a new environment with a warmer climate.

As two days passed since you moved into your house and it was now time for you to go back to Gorilla City to discuss the details of your separation with M’Baku in the presence of lawyers, advisors and tribe elders.

Traveling back up to the snowy mountains as cold temperatures engulfed you, you began to feel uneasy as you had to dress up in the thick furs and headgear to survive the freezing climate.

Reaching the kingdom, you were greeted by the guards before you walked to the throne room where the meeting was scheduled. Walking deeper into the room you spotted your advisor and lawyers and gave them a pleasant smile before your eyes landed onto the large frame of the Great Gorilla who sat on his encrusted throne with a deeply disturbed face.

Judging by his looks it seemed as if these couple of days have been hell for him as he had apparent bags underneath his eyes, dried auburn curls that shouted for moisturizer and weak bone structure that stated that he hadn’t been eating much either. Overall, the man looked like a mess; a cheating mess at that.

When you walked in his head innately went up as he scanned over your figure shamelessly. Shaking off his lustful eyes you sauntered over towards your team of defenders before taking a seat beside them.

“Good morning, Chieftess Y/N.” His advisor, greeted. Giving him a tight lip smile you greeted him back.

“Alright, let’s get this started then.” An elder said, as she took her seat next to the male elder. “So, Y/N tell us what you want to see happen today.” The male elder said, before clasping his hands together.

“—Well, now that we are working out the details of our separation I want alimony, child support, joint custody and therapy for our children.” You stated, which caused the council to dramatically gasp at your list of extensive demands.

Clearing his throat the elderly man said, “Could you explain to us why you are demanding so much?” He questioned. Raising your eyebrow in aggravation you said, “If you must know the alimony is giving spousal support to me since I had to give up my career as an international publicist for America to come live here after I got married to M’Baku.” You detailed.

“—and the child support is to help me maintain and continue the lifestyle our children have been attained and accustomed to since their birth.”

“In addition, I want joint custody because they are at a critical age where they need their mother while also being in the their father’s presence. Lastly, I want our children to go to therapy because they come and tell me about everything they hear on news station and ask me questions about things that children should know nothing about.” You clarified, as your tone of voice rised and vocal cords thick with annoyance.

Silence once again fell throughout the room as his team shared concerning looks, “Well how much are you looking to get paid for on a monthly basis for both spousal and child support?” They asked.

“Twenty thousand for the spousal support and thirty thousand for child support making it fifty thousand idolas each month.” You calculated, with a smirk.

“M’Baku do you have any comments?” The elderly woman asked, as the Great Gorilla grew silent as he watched the discussion unfold before him. “Y/N is a grown woman and she essentially knows what’s best for our children, so I’ll give her the child support, joint custody and the children’s therapy.” He shrugged.

“—However, I do not agree with the spousal support, I see no point in providing Y/N with any support after our separation.” He emphasized, with a sudden flare in his nostrils and crease in his wrinkled forehead.

Abruptly feeling your blood pressure rise with every condescending word he spoke you’ve began to feel your frame starting to shake with great infuriation.

“M’Baku you know I need that money and as I recall you said that half the kingdom was mine just as well as yours when we got married and if your a man of your word like to claim then run me money!”

Spotting the elderly council members fixate their mouths the object M’Baku threw up his hand halting their outburst. “You can keep the kingdom and all of that, but I just need you to pay me all of the idolas I could have been making had I kept my job!”

“So, imma need you to quit showing your ass infront of all these people and agree to what I’m requesting in order to speed up this process.” You spat, as you could literally feel venom spewing with each word.

Shaking your head with great disgust you watched as the Great Gorilla tense up; something M’Baku would always do whenever y’all two got in a dispute. “Stop. You’ve had enough time to talk about your demands and expand on your reasonings now it’s time I do the same.” He stated, quickly commanding attention.

Standing up out of this throne he spoke, “Y/N, you come back to Gorilla City and into my kingdom with your list of demands and expect me to not have any disagreement, sithandwa sa?” He questioned, as he pace mocking the movements of preying gorilla.

“Well, you are sadly mistaken. Yes, I suggested for you to quit your job because you would be swamped with your tribal duties as my chieftess. However, I did noy force you to quit your job. Therefore, I shouldn’t have to pay you for your lost wages.” He explained, as he continued to pace back and forth.

Suddenly standing up you quickly approached him making him halt his movements. “Why are so damn arrogant? Do you not understand why I need this?” You asked, once your anger was started to peak.

“You know what, I don’t why I’m even wasting my time trying to explain this to someone who doesn’t even have the capacity to listen.” You spat, causing M’Baku to blatantly roll his eyes in irritation.

Shaking your head, “I’m taking the kids with me, while they’re gone you need to try and comprehend what I just said.” You stated, before making your way out of the throne room and towards your kids rooms.

However, on the walk to your children’s room, a mischievous idea popped into your head causing you to make an abrupt u-turn in the hallway. Opening the door to your old bedroom you once shared with your M’Baku, you walked in. Heading straight towards his closet you grabbed a handful of his precious furs and wool clothing before carrying them to the bedroom tossing them on the large bed.

After throwing his clothes on the bed you stormed into the master bathroom before roughly opening up a drawer grabbing a pair of scissors. Stomping back into the bedroom you damn near leaped over to the bed as you started fiercely cutting at his clothes.

Five minutes have passed since you started cutting at his clothes, taking a break as you scanned over the sheered pile of clothes, but you weren’t satisfied.

Hopping off of the bed you reached into your bra pulling out your burgundy colored lipstick. Feeling a smirk dance across your lips you quickly popped the top off before you started viciously writing.

With your adrenaline increasing by the second, you started to lose control of your rapid emotions as you ran into the bathroom and began to write hateful messages on the mirror.

Your messages included everything from, “—You deserve everything that is coming to you.” to “—Your never gonna touch this pussy again.” and, “I hope you enjoy watching me give this pussy up baby.”

Pulling away from the mirror you stepped back and admired the word wall you just created.

Smirking at your work, you placed the cap back on your lipstick before you approached the mirror again and placed a kiss on the mirror, claiming the artwork.

Leaving out of the bedroom after making sure that the coast was clear from guards roaming the hall you dodgedout of the room. Reaching your kids room you quickly packed them up before meeting your driver outside the Jabari kingdon and within a couple of minutes you’ve arrived at your home.

“Umama, where are we?” Zuko questioned, as he peeked his head up looking outside of the vehicle.

“We are at umama’s new place, usana.” You smiled, before you got out of the car to open their doors.

Words couldn’t describe the overwhelming joy you felt bringing your children to your home. Wishing you could’ve capture their grins when you opened up the door to your house you’d showed them around from the giant pool, vibranium powered technology to the separate bedrooms and bathrooms.

Furthermore, after settling them into the house and cooking them their favorite dishes you’ve set up the movie, Lion King as their bedtime arrived.

Now in the kitchen, you stood infront of the empty sink drying up the last of the dishes before you heard the doorbell echo throughout the house.

Flicking your head up at the noise you walked to the door unlocking it before opening it as you instantly spotted the moonlight radiating over the mocha colored man with the big heart standing at your doorstep with a wide smile.

“T’Challa, what are you doing here?” You asked, as you quickly pushed your dark curls behind your ear.

Waiting for an answer you spotted his eyes darting back and forth from the wooden tiles on the floor to your inviting eyes. “Well, I’ve just received word that you have arrived back in town from Gorilla City with your children in your possession.”

“—So, I was in the village and thought I’d just drop by and see how well your kids were liking the villa and adjusting to the climate change.” He stammered, before awkwardly clearing his throat.

Leaning against your door frame you said, “Hold up. You came all the way to my house at eight o’clock at night just to check up on my children.” You asked, with a slight wittiness behind your voice.

“Of course, as King of Wakanda it is my greatest duty to ensure the comfortability and security of everyone who lays their head down in this great country.” He informed, before a giggle escaped between your plump lips.

“What?” He teased, before he playfully nudged your arm trying to get an answer from you. “Nothing.” You answered, before shaking your head with a grin still present on your face.

“So, are you gonna let me in, or are we just gonna stand out here looking at each other? Because if so I’m perfectly fine standing.” He joked, as he propped his body up against the door.

Rolling your eyes, “Come on in before I change my mind.” You threatened, as you opened the door wider before walking deeper into your home.

“—I see you’ve made it your own.” He stated, as he strolled over into the living room picking up a frame that had a picture of you and Cebisa. Nodding your head he continued, “She’s gonna to look just like her umama when she grows up.” He complimented, as he traced his finger over your face.

Walking into the kitchen after watching T’Challa place your picture frame down you poured yourself a glass of fresh mango juice. T’Challa soon joined you in the kitchen, “Want some juice?” You offered, as you gripped the handle to the pitcher ready to place it back into the refrigerator.

Nodding his head T’Challa spoke up, “It’s very quiet, where are your kids?” He asked, as he took a seat on a stool across the island. “In my bedroom watching a movie, hopefully sleeping by now.” You replied, while handing him his glass before putting the juice away and walking towards your cabinet.

Pulling at the handle you grabbed a bottle of tequila before shutting the cabinet door with a light thud as you walked back over the island. Unscrewing the top you poured yourself a generous amount. Lifting your head, “You want some?” You offered, with a hand outstretched towards T’Challa.

Politely declining you put the top back on the liquor before putting it back up. Walking back you leaned against your counter with your drink now in your grasp before taking a sip of the concatenation.

Instinctively closing your eyelids you took in a large intake of oxygen allowing it to expand your lungs as you felt the burning trail of liquor travel down your pharynx and esophagus. Snapping your eyes open after detecting another pair of eyes on your figure you saw T’Challa inspecting your bizarre behavior.

“What is the matter?” He questioned, as he viewed your stressed position. Not receiving an answer he took that as an opportunity to move closer as he rounded the corner and stood infront of you.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” He assured, as he took ahold of free your hand.

Shutting your eyes once more as you felt a wave of despair controlling your emotions resulting in a lone tear slipping from your eye. Immediately catching onto your shattered mental state T’Challa quickly swiped it away with his thumb before he gently holding onto your face.

Inhaling you slowly nodded before opening your eyes revealing your immense brown eyes.

Instantly you found his own staring into yours making a dose of butterflies erupt deep within your soul. Forcefully clearing your throat you flicked your eyes anywhere but his as you started to mimic the behavior of a bashful teenage girl.

“Let’s sit you down.” He declared, as he took ahold of your forearm. “—and lemme get this glass.” He said, as he abruptly snatched the drink out of your hand before placing it on the countertop.

Pulling you towards the kitchen table he sat you down in a chair before taking a seat for himself next to you. “You can’t conceal your emotions around me Y/N, so tell me what’s been troubling you.” He stated, before tenderly squeezing your hand.

Licking your lips as you frantically tried to get your emotions underway you opened your mouth to tell him everything that occurred with M’Baku but was suddenly cut off by a small voice.

“—Umama, the movie went off can you please change it?” Cebisa asked, as she sluggishly rubbed her eyes with one balled up fist while the other clutched onto a stuffed Black Panther doll.

Swiftly turning around you saw a gentle grin across T’Challa’s face as he looked at her sleepy figure and stuffed doll. Dropping her fist by her side after she cleared her vision her mouth instantly dropped as her eyes widen at the man before her.

“Hey, it’s King T’Challa!” Cebisa exclaimed, as she released her doll and ran up and hugged the King of Wakanda. Feeling your heart flutter at the unfolding of the scene before you a small smile appeared on your face as they made small talk.

Clearing your throat, “I hate to break up this reunion, but someone is up past her bedtime.” You playfully scolded, with one raised eyebrow.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep umama, I wanna hang out with King T’Challa.” Cebisa whined, as she clenched her arms tighter around his neck. “C’mon usana, we have things to do bright and early in the morning and we can’t do it if we have to wake up a grumpy child.”

Hearing the whole ordeal T’Challa spoke, “I can put her to bed if you want, Y/N.” He offered, causing the somber child to perk up at his words.

Feeling the pleading stares of your child and the man holding the most powerful title in the country you sighed before giving a faint nod making your daughter erupt into cheers.

“Don’t think you’re getting slick young lady, there will not be another movie, but instead a book.” You said.

“Okay, can I show him my room, umama?” Cebisa asked, causing you to nod as giggles left your lips.

Laughing at your daughter’s antics, T’Challa picked up your daughter as he rose to his feet and walked in the direction she was pointing out. “Here is it!” You heard her yell, before hearing the door creak open.

Shaking away your thoughts, you stood up out of your seat walking back towards your drink resting on the counter. Taking it in your grasp, you looked down at the liquidity saffron yellow in your cup and sighed.

Tempted to throw caution to the wind and blatantly ignore T’Challa’s wise words you instead took heed of his guidance and walked over to the sink before watching pour down and run down the drain.

Eventually, the act of pouring the drink into your sink led you to start popping off every top to every drink sitting in your cabinet down the drain. Seven empty bottles later empty with only droplets of liquor left, you threw them all into your trashcan.

Inhaling and exhaling your stress away, you quietly tiptoed upstairs and towards your daughter’s room.

Pausing at the door you peaked through the cracked slit and spotted your daughter leaned up against the warm embrace of T’Challa as she was enthralled by the words of the King as he read her favorite book, The Princess and The Frog.

“—In order to keep her dream alive Princess Tiana started waiting tables as she saved every penny.”

Finding yourself beaming at the sight you felt your heart flutter as T’Challa and your baby girl was completely absorbed into the fairytale.

Softly knocking on the door you pushed opened the door briefly catching their attention. “Can I join the book club?” You teased, as you came closer to the bed gripping onto the side of the bed railing.

“Of course.” Cebisa answered, before patting her comforter indicating the empty spot next to her.

Grinning at her response you climbed into the bed settling right beside her as T’Challa continue reading the story again. With his animated voice never stopping even within your presence.

TRANSLATIONS—

“Nobusi.” means honey “Mnandi.” means sweetheart “Usana.” means baby “Sithandwa sa.” means my love “Umama.” means mother “Utata.” means father “Idola.” means dollars “Mandla.” means to have power “Cebisa.” means to give advise “Zuko.” means to give glory

AUTHOR’S NOTE— Yall don’t understand how tempted I was to make homegirl pop that pussy, lmao. Y’all up for Chapter 4 or nah? Anyways, ask to be apart of the taglist! 💕

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