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amzyspinkarch · 5 years ago

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At Last Tamagon x Reader

Smoke fills the air. The unpleasant smell of burning meat hits the nostrils of individuals nearby.

''Oi Tamagon! Nani shiteru no?!'' Kiev chastised.

''Tamagon!''

Kiev makes his way over to the said man and grabs the tongue utensil out of his hand. Being ripped from the clutches of memory lane, Tamagon is brought back to his reality where he's confronted by his brother. He blinks once, twice, thrice, before giving Kiev his attention.

''Huh?'' Kiev jumps and slaps him across the head.

''You're burning the food!'' He seethed while the rest of the crew chastise him as well. Some laugh at the male shaking their heads.

''Oh'' Tamagon pauses. ''Gomen ne''

Kiev sighs and tends to meats. Tamagon follows suit letting out a sigh knowing he's messed up. He just couldn't get out of his head. Not when horrid memories took over his mind. His eyes train up towards the blue sky masked with stark white clouds. He always finds solace when his eyes are fixed there. Something about the sky and shapes of the clouds is peaceful. A pass-time of his when he isn't busy with the company. Such sessions are even shared at times with a certain young woman.

'I wonder if A-'

''Oi, Tamagon!'' a voice belonging to his other brother Zanbai interrupts his thought. ''Your lady friend is here'' The men snicker at him.

Tamagon fights to keep down a slight blush trying to evolve and paint his face identical to a tomato.

''Thank you Zanbai. Let me know when you want a shot at announcement gigs. I'll set you up'' you pat his arm and turn smiling at Tamagon. The look in your eyes never fail at making him shy. As always though, he adverts his head after a hello to you.

He strides over to the steps and takes a seat. You shake your head, but your determination does not falter. You make your way over to the male and sit beside him. You remind yourself to put distance between you. A mental note you made from your last encounter.

''How are you Tamagon?''

''I am fine. And you?''

''I'm well.'' you chirp.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you flashing him a wide smile that he swears lights up his insides. Yet, he remains facing forward as if you don't affect him in the least. Another usual was silence. Though, frankly speaking, it was something pleasantly surprising that you'd become accustomed to.

''Tamagon'' he picks up on the tone of your voice. A shift from your usual playful. Concerned, he turns to you while you gather your thoughts to make your statement in the best way possible. Hopefully not messing up. You clear your throat.

''Are you okay?'' he'd like to know

''Qui. Je le suis merci.'' He nods. You let out a breath. ''Tamagon, I like you. Tu me rends heureux. You make me happy.'' Your hand covers one of his with yours as you look into his eyes.

''I know you're wondering how that can be. Well. It's the little things about you. I have made no secret of my crush on you, nor my attraction. I am not ashamed of it. However, I must let you hear it from me verbally.'' You pause taking a breath

''I love how even when not saying much or anything at all, I still learn so much from you. I love how expressive you can be with your family, yet, you're also reserved. I would love to be with you. I don't care what you or anyone says. You may second guess this and think I that have motives, but I'll do everything to prove to you that my affection and adoration. Mes sentiments, my feelings. '' Your hand squeezes his. ''Are real. I see the kind of person and man that you are, and I'm so attracted to him. You once caused mischief, but you, along with these rest of this crew, have turned your lives around. You're now an honest, hard-working man.'' Your eyes trail down to his mouth and smile seductively.

''I love your lips and how plump and soft they look. I love how when you're around, I instantly feel warm. And safe. I could go on and on Tamagon. And I will when, not if, but when you accept to be my man.'' You were so focused on the man facing you, that you hadn't realised you'd gained the attention of your family. Everyone's munching on their lunch both entertained and awed by the words coming out of your mouth.

And Tamagon's facial expression.

A certain pink-haired cutie suddenly interrupts.

''Love'' Himari, relaxing on her mother's lap, comments. Parting her hands and arms gesturing to you and the chubby-cheeked male. It was then you noticed the audience gathered and partly wished to be buried into the Earth.

Turning to Tamagon you see a mixture of emotions swirling around in his eyes and contorting his face. His unnerving silence causes you to panic. You turn to walk away abruptly deciding it's best to regroup and approach later. Plus, the more you felt examined, the more agitated you got, and no one wanted to see you snap.

Everyone ate and socialised before getting back to work. Tamagon secluded himself on a comfy seat in the backyard trying to process your words from earlier. His mind indeed sent off warning bells to tell him you just messing with him. He couldn't imagine someone taking him on and not at face value and appearance.

''You shouldn't overthink it.''

''Franky aniki'' Franky rests a palm on the male's shoulder.

''Tamagon, when someone loves you for you, don't take it for granted. She's been showing you for how long now she's interested. And you still won't budge. Baka. You like her and she's let you know how much she likes you. Stop letting your fears get in the way and kiss the girl. Honestly, you're so hard-headed'' Franky boxes the male on the head and leaves, going back to work.

Evening had approached by the time last-minute checks on the stability of the booths, the lightings, sounds and decorations occurred. The ideas for this game night Coby and Ame were going to host were superb. You were proud of the woman for finally having the balls to connect more to her other family. Whether she wanted to accept and embrace them or not. From what Coby's described, the Newgate's were a great family.

Taking a few steps backs, you observed the sight before you. The large backyard was now transformed into a mini carnival. Though the best part, is the gorgeous, fairy lights lit tents created for an outdoor theatre. You released a sigh.

''It's beautiful," Ame said from beside you. Her eyes captivated by the sight before her and who could blame her?

''Qui. Il fait beau. You're a genius"

"I wouldn't know about that"

"Yes, you are. A game night that ends with an outdoor movie in dreamy tents with seating that has the comfort of a bed? Dang woman. By the way, I hope you know it's about to turn into a baby-making fest tomorrow night." The gorgeous, dark-skinned woman swats your arm

"Your mind's always in the damn gutter."

"No more than yours" you snicker at her, but she just gives you an amused look

"Oh? I beg to differ sis. I see the way you look at Tamagon."

"So, does everyone." You shrug "I make it no secret my interest in him"

"Yeah. We know from your declaration earlier" She smirks at you teasingly. Your cheeks, being devoid of melanin, flushed a deep pink

"Shut up. I didn't know everyone was around. I got lost in the moment.'' You release a sigh. '' But I wouldn't change a thing. He's so sweet. And a hunk" She nods while staring forward.

"I know what you mean," she says with a distant smile on her face. Movement catches the corner of your eye and you peer over to the person.

"Ooo. Speaking of sweet and a hunk. Your husband is home.'' You notify'' Mind if I go entertain him with the idea of a ménage a trios?" You teasingly raise an eyebrow. Ame laughs light-heartedly.

She smirks and closes the gap between you two. Taking a hold of your hands, she gives you her best puppy dog eyes filled with fake desperation.

"More than anything" Her body is yanked backwards. Rope binding her torso and arms.

"Oi Ame! Nani shiteru-no"

"Mmm Paulie, I like where you're going with this." You grin mischievously at the male. His face blushes a deep pink.

"Urusai! Ame! You're married for shit's sake. Stop going after other men's ladies"

"Shut the fuck up and release me, Paulie! This is so tight"

"I bet that's what Coby's says about your-" your sentence is cut short by the ranting male.

"And you. Stop starting things and entertaining her!" You chuckle and give the older male a fake look of conviction.

"Je regrette Paulie. You know we're only playing" you wink at Ame and she winks back.

"Uso-tsuki!!" The man yells at both of you

"Can't have these two in the same vicinity" Franky chimes in playfully

"Honestly. They're both something else" Kop replies

Paulie took Ame over to her husband. They verbally went back and forth with each other as everyone laughs. You simply waved at her before laying on the grass, gazing at the evening sky. You blew out a breath. You wondered how to go about things between you and the certain male when you felt a presence nearby. Tamagon. He gifts you with a slice of cake but does not speak. Neither of you say a word. Both too afraid of the unknown.

''I... I like your native tongue. Both your accent and your language. I find it sexy and adorable when you switch between French and English. Especially when flustered.'' He takes moment to gather his words carefully ''I-I'' he takes a breath ''I like how opposite you are of me yet we.. blend.. perfectly. Like makeup.'' He blushes recalling a time watching you apply products to your face and the lessons you taught him while at it. ''I love your hair'' he says with a warm smile ''It's so fluffy and full. A small, lovely afro crown adorning your head.'' Your smirk turns into a slightly sad smile

''But you can't run your fingers through it.''

''I'd happily get tangled up.'' He replies smiling. His fingers brush against your hand.

''I love your skin very much. You may have a skin disease to others, but to me, you're so beautiful. You're a work of art, a masterpiece and you should never feel any other way about yourself.''

Tamagon shifts closer to your body. Your body stills, not believing what's happening. You let out a breath and relax when his hand now takes hold of yours, squeezing it. You turn on your side to face him. ''I-I like you y/n,'' he says. He turns on his side to face you as well.

You smile lovingly as your hand goes to his cheek. You caress his face rendering the man weak as he leans into your touch.

''Tamagon?'' you softly call. He hums. ''J'ai tres envie de faire l'amour avec toi ce soir. I really want to make love to you tonight''

His eyes widen with shock and his face lights up like a Christmas tree as he rolls onto his side. His back faces you as he tries hiding his reddened face. Your laugh resounds throughout the yard, and Tamagon works on calming his heart rate. Another stretch of comfortable silence passes. You take that time trying to calm your own beating heart and fight your blush fest. You decide to use food as well as a counter and take a bite of your dessert. You relishing the sweet taste before abruptly choking, taken by complete surprise by his response to your confession.

''Y-yes. You can make love to me tonight''

(A/N: I know this one is longer that rest but I'm especially attached you will, to this one-shot. I really felt it necessary and it took me a long time to finish it. However, I'm happy that I am and I hope that you enjoy it. Happy reading people! Translations are down below)

Japanese:

Nani shiteru no- What are you doing?

Gomen ne- I'm sorry, sorry

Aniki- Big Brother, brother

Baka- Idiot

Urusai- Shut up.

Uso-Tsuki- Liar.

French:

Qui. Je le suis merci- Yes. I am thank you.

Tu me rends heureux- You make me happy.

Mes sentiments- My feelings

Qui. Il fait beau- Yes. It is beautiful.

Ménage a trios- Three-way

Je regrette- I'm sorry. I am sorry

J'ai tres envie de faire l'amour avec toi ce soir- I really want to make love to you tonight

#one piece #op fanfic #black reader #one piece tamagon #black oc #one piece one shot #masterlist

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eerythingisshaka · 6 years ago

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#Fictober Day 28

“I felt it. You know what I mean.”

(Undead!Erik x Black!Reader)

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Violence, smut

“FUCK EVERYTHING!!” You say as you toss your phone aside.

It had been five weeks since your situationship called things off, and you were desperately looking for reprieve in the app life. However, Tinder, Plenty of Fish, Bumble, Black People Meet, and digging through your old schoolmates on Messenger was coming up dry, dull, and completely disgusting to you. If people weren’t being plain boring or curving you, they were breadcrumbing, catfishing, and tryna have they cake and eat it too. You didn’t have time for none of that! Why was it so hard to find a quality guy that could also bust you open on a regular basis? You were good looking thick melanin goddess, with a good job, own place, all you wanted was companionship.

You pull out a bottle of Hennessy and get to sipping to try and feel at least a little bit good and lit. As your body warmed up and your mind got hazy, you start to look through the internets typing random stuff into Google about how to find a good man. The lists telling you to ‘Be yourself’, ‘Don’t be afraid to make a move’, and ‘show him respect’ made you want to throw your shit out of the window. You went out, you were yourself, and sharing your time was the most respectful thing you could do for someone. But the pickings were dustier than the skeletons in their closet.

Sitting back with your drink, you turn to your TV and see Queen of the Damned being played. Aaliyah looks amazing as the sinister title character, complete with embellished crown and bustier, gyrating and hissing at her seduced followers. You wish it was that easy, but of course, you weren’t Aaliyah, or a Queen of the Darkness.

A thought sparks your mind gears as you consider a new inquiry in your search bar. Scrolling through you find all kinds of creepy looking websites boasting incantations, spells, voodoo, and witchcraft that can bring your most desired mate to fawn after you eternally. Some required too much: hoof of a deer, venom from a snake, head of a chicken. No way in hell would you consider massacring and animal for something you were only curious about.

One website got intrigued as it seemed a bit more reasonable in its requests, and it was headed by a Black woman from New Orleans who looked like your great aunt. ‘A spell for renewed bliss’ was the title. All you had to do was get a dead rose, a mirror, a bottle of liquor, a piece of clothing that is important to you, a match, and a Bible.

You grabbed the decayed bouquet that was gifted to you on your last date with what’s his name. And you hadn’t finished your Henny yet, so that would do. You grabbed a mirror, a match (and some weed cuz fuck it), a pair of panties that always got you some good good, and the Holy Book. And you knew exactly where you wanted to go to try this out.

You take 30 min drive out along a secluded, barely lit road that led to the outskirts of town. You didn't make a habit of visiting cemeteries in the middle of the night, but you were feeling Henny bold. You were bored on a saturday with a broken pussy and no one to fuck with, so why not try the other world niggas. You pull up through the gates slowly and drive along the rocky driveway until your headlights illuminate the section number you were looking for.

Getting out of your car, you pull your jacket around you tighter as your phone lit you path while you carried your bag of ingredients. It was the marker closest to the wall, a small stone, cheaply made as he didn't have any family. The marker reads “Erik Stevens". You had heard of him from the news. He caused a raucous in Wakanda and practically took over the world until he was killed. His body was sent back to America but no one could claim him, so the Wakandans gave him a basic burial.

You kneel on the grass in front, opening the bottle of Hennessy to take a swig. You look around you as an owl hoots in the background, sending chills down your spine, but you weren't turning back now. You wanted some entertainment, and the spirit world better not disappoint

The mirror was propped up to face you, and the rose was to be burned and scattered in the bottle of alcohol you brought. You pour some of the concoction on the crotch of the underwear you brought and lay it across a corner of the gravestone. Sitting back, you spark up your joint and crack the Bible open.

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. Entreat me not to leave you, Or to turn back from following after you; For wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, And your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, And there will I be buried. Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate." You read, ominously.

“Shit, thats dark.” You whisper as you take a drag and savor the high you were feeling. Looking at the stars in the sky, you were so taken by their beauty you almost forgotten about the task at hand. Completely entranced by the twinkling nature, you don't notice the disturbance in the grass between your feet. You swipe at the tickle near your ankle, judging it to be a bug until it felt bigger and more solid and grabbed you back.

You shake your foot casually until you look down and see a dirty hand.

“Ohhh SHIT!! What the fuck-- Get off!” You scream as you yank your ankle from its grasp and crab walk backwards from the grave.

You watch in horror as the arm extends out in the air, studded with scarification marks. The hand is grasping for leverage creepily until it gets the grass. You can see the stress in its knuckles as it prepares to pull.

You toss your blunt, shaking your head and pinching yourself. “This can’t be happening! This gotta be one of those ‘I had too much chocolate before bed’ dreams.”

Soon as your theorized that, the other hand busted out of the ground, clawing at the grass as the earth between the two started to become disturbed.

“Oh, fuck this!” You yell as you jet to your car. Getting in you push to start the engine, putting it in drive. You had no idea how to get out of the cemetery besides the way you came in, so you forced the car in reverse. Backing into the grass, you desperately turn the steering wheel with all your might to right yourself in the appropriate direction before putting it in drive. Once you did, you looked up through your windshield and what you saw made your body run cold.

Standing before you was the man you thirsted after in your dreams, day and night. The man who was once dead, and looks like everything but now.

Besides being covered in dirt remnants, Erik Stevens looked as good as the day he died. Scars along his entire body, muscles permeating from under his melanin; with the addition of the stab wound T’Challa gave him that caused his death...and he was naked.

He had his head down, locs shielding his face, breathing heavily until his head started to rise to look at you. He stood there expressionless and you weren’t sure what to do. Run him over? Call the police? Call a Priest? Leave an unsatisfactory Yelp review for the auntie’s website that made you do this in the first place?

You were as frozen as he was, forgetting to breathe as you stared at him. No way he could actually see you in the car with the headlights on but his gaze matched yours perfectly.

Suddenly his nostrils flared, eyes bucking, fist clenched, his expression menacing. “AAAGGHHH!!” He roars at you, before booking it out of the cemetery.

“Where the fuck is he going?” You watch as he books it to God knows where. You hit the gas and go after him. He is running along the gravel road, skin to the wind like a madman. He’s fast, but you catch up to him.

“Erik! ERIK!! The hell you goin?!” You yell out the rolled down passenger side window. He looks at you and lands a kick against your car that sends it swerving into the other lane as a car come toward you. Your jaw clenches as you turn the car in the correct lane and hit the brakes. The oncoming car passes you, honking and flipping you off as it goes by you but you’re way too rattled to care. You look in your rearview to see if there are any cars coming before you back up to look where Erik turned into. Stopping the car, you get out, yelling his name once more, but he was long gone in the woods. You hold your head in dread as you think about how you just resurrected a problematic man and set him loose , naked and angry into the city. Walking back to your car, you noticed the sizable dent in the side of your car caused by his foot.

“Oh, I’m finding this damn nigga.” You say to yourself fuming as you try to open it, to no avail.

You are almost home before you notice that the gas on your tank was pointed to the E. You had less than ten miles to the tank before it became empty. Luckily your house was not that far from the gas station in your neighborhood so you made your way there. Paying for your gas in store, you pick yourself up some chips, a tea, and personal pepperoni pizza from the kitchen, hot and ready.

Walking outside, you put your goods on your seat and get the nozzle to pump.

“The hell you doin out here lookin like that?!”

You hear some commotion on the far side of the parking lot. A couple of OGs were looking in an area behind the gas station.

“Boy, is you stupid or sum’n? The hell your clothes out, nigga?! Getcha ass beat round here for that kinda shiet!”

You stop pumping and walk a little closer to get a better view. All you saw was back and ass sitting on a rock. You run back to your car to get the extra blanket in your car and the pizza.

“Aye y’all! Move on, now. Ain’t nuthin to see!” You yell at the graying and drunken street guys watching.

Erik turns at the sound of your voice, and you talk to him gently. “Hey, Erik. It’s aight. You hungry? I know your ass hungry, come on.”

He slowly gets up, walking to you as you try to keep your eyes on his civil areas. His expression was hard as he looked you a moment before snatching the pizza from your hand.

“Uh! Chill the fuck out, Erik. I don’t give a fuck what grave you crawled out of, you better be respectful!” You throw the blanket around him as he practically shoves the whole pizza in his mouth at once.

“Aye, girlie! He botherin you or som’n?” The OGs come up beside you.

One of them goes to point a finger in his face, that instantly gets bent backwards, sending him on the ground, writhing in pain. Erik grabs the other up by the throat as he begs for air.

“Erik! Put them down! Stop right now!” You push him and grab at his arm to put the man down. Erik flings you away from him, making you roll across the asphalt. You get up slow as Erik begins to cause a scene, someone is calling the police.

“Erik! You still hungry?” you ask desperate to get his attention from the man as he turns blue.

Erik looks at you dropping him, and walking your way. He picks you up, shaking you for food.

Your head knocks as he rattles you, but you gain your bearings enough to smack him across his face pretty good. He drops you on the ground, holding his cheek, fire in his eyes.

You get up quickly, backing towards the car. “You don’t get no damn food if you attack, Erik! You hear me! You’ll starve and go right back to wherever the hell you came from if you come for me!” You say with as much authority as you could muster. Erik stops his stampede towards you, huffing with rage.

You start to hear sirens in the distance. “You gotta come with me though. Get in the damn car Erik. Now!”

You start the engine up and put it in drive waiting for him to make his move. He stares at you with the same blankness as he had in the cemetery. The OGs were still rolling on the ground around him and you prayed they would not put a hunt out for Erik. Finally, after what felt like forever, he comes to your car. You forgot the passenger door wasn’t working because of him, but before you could get out and tell him to go in the back, he rips it open and gets in. You look at him as he stares you down. It wasn’t until you got in the enclosure of your car before you smelled him.

“Damn! You really were a corpse! You gettin a bath first man.” You groan in disgust as you start the car and make it out to the street.

Erik’s nostrils glare, clenching his fists. “And I don’t give a damn FUCK about a tantrum, nigga. I could leave you out here to be a hashtag out here in the parking lot. You know the cops wouldn’t mind. Have some sense, I’m tryna help you. But attack me and you as good as dead!”

Erik was thinking, you could tell. He might not have had oxygen in his brain for a while, but he still knew what he was doing. He sits back, taking your instruction.

Once you all get to the house, you get him inside and head for the bathroom. “Don’t sit on anything, touch anything, do anything! I was serious, you are bathing first!”

You run the shower and hand Erik a towel. “I hope you remember how to bathe. I ask for a man and so far, I have became a mother to you. What if the cops got you?”

Erik goes in the kitchen stepping right into the shower, letting the water run over his body, the water pooled around his feet is a muddy brown.

“Take the washcloth, and clean off ALL that dirt. You cannot sit on my furniture with a dirty body.”

Erik stands in one spot, not saying a word, and not moving a muscle.

You roll your eyes, and decide you have to feed him the steps. “Here. Soap?” You squeeze some soap out on the washcloth. “Water?” You put the washcloth in his hand and run water over it. Then you place his hand on his chest to make a lather.

“Waaaassshh.” You say, nodding your head as he watches the suds appear and dirt disintegrate.

Erik looks annoyed at you, but that’s been his default since you picked him up. You leave him to figure himself out as you sit down and open your laptop. The stress of your situation was hitting you with a ferocity beyond your control. What if someone got your license plate number? And he wouldn’t be a hard suspect to find out in the open. Six foot, Black man with scars all over his body? And you would go down for aiding and abetting!

You try and look over the website that gave your the resurrection ingredients and hope there is a reverse to it. You decide to email the Madame, praying she replies soon.

Erik comes out with the towel resting around his neck, body dripping wet and soapy in some parts.

You get up in a huff. “Gatdammit! Get back in there! I don’t believe you washed up for real, but you certainly did not rinse. You need to cover yourself.” You snatch the towel from around Erik’s neck, tying it around his waist. Erik flinches, rubbing the heat on the back of his neck.

“Rinse off! I’ll get ya some clothes!”

As Erik pads away, you look through what you call the “Box of Bullshit” to find Erik something that he could wear. The dude from your situationship left a lotta stuff in your closet and drawers, yet he didn’t have a single understanding of commitment, but that was neither here nor there. You find a simple white tee and some sweatpants and socks. Going back to the bathroom, you crack the door open and toss the clothes in. “I hope you know how to dress yourself.” YOu yell through the door.

As you do some more research, Erik comes out clothed, despite the shirt being inside out and backwards. You also remind yourself to get him some underwear at the drugstore; if him being an undead being wasn’t bad enough to be a target, that dickprint would call him out quick.

Erik stands there staring at you, letting out a grunt.

You look up at him. “What?”

Erik sits down next to you, takes one of your typing hands and rubs it on his stomach.

Snatching it back you yell at him. “Aiiiight, dang! Nigga, Imma need you to learn words again, quick! This sign language sit is not what I’m built for. I’ll order some food, but you finna need to earn your keep soon if you layin up here.” You pull up the website for Little Cesar’s to order some $5 Hot-N-Readys.

Erik looks at your screen and groans pitifully. “Uh...I know you are not being picky? Nigga, this is MY money. If I’m paying, you’re getting something quick and cheap. Your first word you speak to me better be ‘thank you’.”

When the order is placed you get up to get your jacket. “Now look. I have to go get the shit, but the block is too hot for you, so if you can stay here, not touch no shit, that would be helpful. Yes?”

Erik gives you his usual annoyed look. “Great! The food oughta be good motivation to be good.”

----

Stepping out of the Little Ceasar’s with two Hot-N-Readys, you get your keys out to open your car, dropping them in the process.

“Lemme get that for you, baby.” A guy comes up to get your keys from you.

You’re hesitant but play it cool. “Oh, thank you.” You hold your hand out for the keys but the guy keeps a hold of them in his hand.

“What’s your name?” He asks, smiling with a black tooth.

You had no time at all for this Uncle trying to talk to you. You place the pizzas on the hood of your car. “I don’t give that to strangers sir. Give me my keys.”

He kisses his gnarled teeth. “Aww, come on. I don’t bite or nothin…” He steps in front of you reaching for your waist. You step back towards to the door of Little Cesar’s.

“Give me my damn keys!” You say with more bass.

He gives you a sour look and tosses them on the ground. As you pick them up and open your door, soon as you get the pizzas in, he gets by the back of your hair.

“You think you the shit, bitch? Fuckin whore and worth the spit out my mouth.”

You struggle against his grip until you twist your body to jab him in his genitals.

“FUCK!” He exclaims, teetering backwards in pain.

You jump in your car and peel out the parking lot as soon as possible. How was this night starting off as some toxic selfcare and fun to this? You promise to never drink and research voodoo ever again.

You notice some bright headlights in your rearview mirror and adjust to try and see the driver, but no luck. You were on a straightway, so you couldn’t turn off and you were almost home.

Pulling up to your spot, the car pulls up behind you as well. Soon as you get out with the pizzas, that same uncle came out his car limping.

“I told your fuckin ass! You ain’t nuthin. You oughta be glad I’m talkin to your raggedy ass!” You trot up to your door, messing with the keys until the door opens. Erik is standing there ready to eat.

“Fuckin bitch!” the uncle yells.

This catches Erik’s attention as he begins to walk past.

“No, Erik! It's food! Take the food!” you remind him in vain.

The uncle sees Erik coming towards him and stops in his tracks. “Oh shit. Uh, I don't mean nothin by it sir, just a misunderstanding.”

Erik keeps coming.

“Erik, don't fucking hurt him. I swear on everything!” you scold him.

But Erik walks past him, causing some relief to wash over the uncle. But the sound of bent metal, made him jump.

Erik has a grip on the passenger side door, before ripping it off its hinges and smashing it like a ball of paper, glass shattering all over. He tosses the remnants in the car, and punches the windshield in, busting it for good measure.

“Oh, brotha, come on! I didn't even do nothin!”

Erik points in the distance, signaling for him to get the hell outta dodge. Which uncle obliges quickly.

Once he is gone. Erik comes back over to you l, looking intently all over your face and body. You hand him the pizzas. “He didn't do nuthin. I hurt him more than he could.” you say walking inside.

Erik lets out a sound that almost sounded like a laugh, so you assume he approved. You plop on the couch, exhausted.

“You need a drink, there's water. I ain't got nuthin else.”

Erik sits on the couch, fisting slices of pizza into his mouth.

“Chew! It aint gonna run away!” you roll your eyes. “You so extra.”

As Erik chews, you reach for his locs, studying them, dirty and overgrown.

“Remind me to retwist your shit. Lookin like a wilderness man aint cute.”

You get up to go get him a paper towel from the cabinet, and the door hangs off the hinge.

“Shit! I thought I fixed that!” You prop the door closed and give Erik one.

The rest of the evening, you spent searching for answers to you right your creation against the laws of nature, coming up short. The FBI would have a field day with your search history. Erik just sat still on the couch, watching the TV. You didn’t want to go back to your room so you could keep an eye on him, but you certainly couldn’t stay awake all night.

The next morning you get up, stretching out the crook in your neck. Erik was nowhere around you. You get up, becoming frantic as you get up to look outside your door, hoping he hadn’t gone far. Turns out he was just on the steps, looking up at the sky. You go outside to join him, looking down at the sidewalk.

“Erik, did you sleep?” He shakes his head no. “Can you? Sleep?” He shakes his head no. You study his profile, he looks a little sad. “Are you hungry?” He shakes his head no. “Well, I got a spare toothbrush for you. Use it, and I’ll do your hair, aight?”

He nods, getting up to do as he was told. You take a moment to look at the sun, wondering what the hell you were going to do.

You join Erik in the bathroom as he is rinsing his mouth. He looks a little more alive today, less like he is an alien that is new to Earth.

“Get on your knees, I’m going to wash your hair out in the tub.” You get the shampoo and conditioner ready as you start the water. Erik gets down leaning his head over, looking back at you curiously.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drown you.” You say as you guide his head under the lukewarm water. You watch dirt remnants go down the drain as you massage his scalp gently. You feel his back relax under your arm as he enjoys the attention.

“Mmmm.” Erik groans.

“That’s nice huh? Don’t get used to it, you say, jabbing him in his side playfully. Erik flips his head back, splashing lather and water all over you.

You jump, only able to stare at him in awe. “You have to be kidding me. ERIK!” You splash him with water back. “Now I’m drowning your ass, put your head back down!”

Erik wouldn’t comply. Instead he picks you up and holds your entire body in the stream of the water, before letting you go to run away.

“Erik! Gatdammit!” You turn off the water, stepping out of the shower damp. You were down for playing but he was too rough! You change your clothes and go sit on the couch to watch some shows. Erik went outside and came peeking through the front door.

“You either in or you out, boy. Don’t matter to me none!”

Erik comes inside. “And don’t sit on my couch with a wet head, go rinse your own damn hair!”

Erik kisses his teeth. “Ohhh, and you gettin smart! Walk your ass on somewhere then, I don’t really care! You got one more time, try me! Nobody playin!”

Erik gives you that annoyed glare but skulks to the bathroom, running water.

When he comes out, he’s got a towel on his head and products on his hands. Your feet are propped on the table, which he moves from under you without regard.

“Erik, what’re you doing?” He sits in front of your legs, backing up into you. “Uh, uh. You don’t want me to do shit for you, cuz you wanna play. I ain’t playin right now!”

Erik leans his head back looking up at you, eyes all wide, jaw tight.

You roll your eyes, smacking the side of his face gently. “Aight then, get up.” You part your legs for Erik to squeeze between. He was so wide, it was a bit of a problem. But you start to get to work.

Drying his hair a little more, you get to talking to him. “My name is (Y/N), by the way. I know you can’t talk yet, or ever, but...that’s my name.”

Erik nods slightly, giving a grunt of approval.

While you twist him up, you figure you can ask him a few yes or no questions. “Erik, do you think you are alive?”

Erik reaches his hand out for you, taking your hand and placing it against his chest. You couldn’t feel a heartbeat, and checking the area near his jugular confirms that.

“Wow, do you feel dead?”

Erik shrugs.

“Do you remember dying?”

Erik is still for a moment before he nods slightly. “Yeah, I remember hearing about it. I wasn’t completely mad about you, just mad for you. It wasn’t fair the hand you were dealt, but you got a little outta hand. Like, not too long ago even.” You say referring to the OGs he choked up in the parking lot and the car he destroyed.

You couldn’t see his face but you felt an eye roll from him. “Come on, Erik. You said your were gonna kill any and everybody who stood in the way of your plans. You can’t make those kinds of declarations and come out smelling like roses. Shit’s dirty man.”

Erik holds his hand up, moving his hand like it's talking. “Uh, you want me to shut up? Please, you not listening is what did you in. You shoulda been talkin to people instead of being led by a blind fury. Mayne you not talkin now is a poetic justice.”

You finish up his hair and leave him to admire your work in the mirror. Just then your phone gets a text. It’s the guy from your situationship.

You freeze, not sure what the hell to do. You go to the box of his crap in the corner and go to get it. “Uhh, Erik. Imma need you to stay here again, ok! I’m going out again.”

Erik steps from the mirror, looking at you with a hand on his stomach. “Oh, uh, I-I’ll pick up something. Then we gotta talk-- or, whatever. Cuz we gotta figure out what to do with you. You look more presentable so maybe we can figure out how to get you somewhere to be or work or somethin.” You rush out the door as your mind was focused on other things, leaving Erik to his own devices.

You pull up to his spot, sitting for a second to collect yourself before getting out. Box in hand, you go to knock.

He opens the door, still looking like how you left him. A handsome pain in your ass.

“I figure you wanted this stuff back too, since we talkin now.” You say, shoving the box in his arms.

He looks you up and down, scoffing. “Oh, miss thing got a backbone? Or somethin stuck up your ass, one.”

“Ty, I ain’t tryna hear it from you, ok? You breadcrumb the shit outta me and then dip. Now you got somethin to tell me, so what the fuck is it?”

He puts the box down before leaning on the doorframe. “I wanted to see you, just one more time.”

“So you officially through with me? That’s funny cuz I been done with you! No problems to my name!” You say, boldface lying.

“Nah, I figure you wouldn’t even want to deal with me no more. I treated you shitty, I get that but I couldn’t handle a good woman. I just didn’t know your were until I didn’t have you.”

You fold your arms, your anger beginning to falter. “Yeah, cuz you...you ain’t shit, Ty.”

“That’s what happens when you take ‘the’ out of it. You were my meaning, without you, I’m shit. You my ‘the’.”

You hated him. You couldn’t stand that pretty face talking with that pretty mouth giving you that sexy stare. Before you knew it, you were on top of him, making out on his couch. You felt sick, but he wanted you, he said so. This didn’t have to be the end, you all can start anew since it is sure that both of you want a real thing.

His phone rings as you reach for his belt buckle. “(Y/N), lemme take this real quick.”

You whine, “Come on. I’m ready for you now!”

Ty lifts you off of him before running for his phone.

“Hello? Yeah, no it’s fine. Oh for real? Ok, let me know what the cost is.” He looks at you apologetically. “Oh, wait, baby I don’t wanna talk to her right n-- Hey Mom! Yeah, no your daughter is amazing!” You expression falls flat as you dry up hearing the conversation continue. “Yes she is beautiful. I am lucky to have her for my….future wife.”

This was your cue to get up and get on. You are out the door as he is hanging up. “Baby, come on. It ain’t like it sounds!”

“A WIFE, TY?? You getting married, married? And you were just kissing me on your couch?” You get in your car, and he leans talking through your window. “Aww, now don’t be like that. You’re my meaning, remember! My the!”

You stare at him through your window, seething. “Get THE fuck off my car.” You peel off, hoping you got his feet.

You pull up to your place, feeling worse for wear, seeing Erik sitting on the stairs reminded you that he needed to eat.

YOu curse under your breath as you walk past him inside. I’m making you something. I don’t feel like going out again.” YOu go in the kitchen, banging pots around, opening a soup can. YOu try opening it with the can opener but it's no good. The can is only halfway open before you give up and try shaking the contents out in a pot but half of it splatter on the counter.

“AGGGHH!! I’m tired of niggas! If I’m not taking care of them, they are fucking me over, there is no inbetween.”

Erik comes up to you placing a hand on your shoulder. “No, Erik! This ain’t the time! I’m trying to be nice, but I can’t see the point! What am I supposed to do with you? Huh? YOu weren’t supposed to be here, I was playing around! I was bored and heartbroke! What do I need with a damn zombie!” You take a pot and send it clattering in the sink as you lean on the sink. “I can’t deal with anymore of this, I just want to be left alone. I’m tired.”

You hear the front door open and close shut. You look back and Erik is gone. He thinks this is better, but now you’ll have to wonder where he is until he returns. You look at the mess on the floor, and reach for your paper towels. You open the door too quickly and expect to have to catch it but it sits perfectly on its hinge. You survey that there are crew placed correctly in the door, fixing the mess that it was. You’re confused only for a moment before you realize it was Erik’s doing.

Great, you thought. Now I really gotta find him.

In your car, you drive around just trying to be vigilant and look around to see where he would be. He wasn’t walking the neighborhood, he wasn’t at the gas station. A thought crossed your mind that you didn’t like, but you figured it was crazy enough to work.

You get to the cemetery, luckily it's daylight this time and see him sitting down. You pull up and get out of the car with a bag of food. You take a seat next to him, pulling a burger out of the bag, but he doesn’t take it. You unwrap it and take a bite. Y’all stare at his headstone and the whole he crawled out of a moment.

“Erik, I didn’t mean….”

Erik doesn’t look at you or interject. Not like he could.

“...I didn’t mean all of what I said. Now, if the truth is what you want though, I didn’t ask for you to come into my life.”

Erik looks at you with a stank look. “Come on, I was just playing around! I didn’t know this shit was real! But, dang, this is hard. I don’t want to leave you on the street, I wouldn’t do that. You had a soft spot in my heart before because I got your story, you just went about it the wrong way.”

You grab his arm to pull his attention away from the grave. “I don’t want you back there, I really don’t. I could put a couple different people in there before I think about sending you back. I couldn’t if I wanted to, and I’m not. Erik, I don’t know what’s happening in your head, but I’m sorry for what I said that may have brought you here. You are getting a second chance, this could be something special.”

Erik looks at you, taking you by the shoulder to look at you intently. “I’m fine. Just nigga troubles. The guy whose clothes you’re wearing called me and I thought we were being a thing again, but nah. He gettin married. God bless the union.”

Erik nods, biting his lip and looking away. “You wanna get outta here though? Now I got somethin for us, we should be good til tomorrow, then I can get some food in my fridge.”

You and Erik enjoy the evening watching shows and winding down from the day.

“Ohm and thank you for fixing my cabinet door! That was bothering me for weeks, and now I can confidently retrieve my paper towels.”

Erik smiled, probably the most genuine one he has given you, dimples unyielding. “Maybe you can fix my car door next, with ya heavy handed ass.” You stick your tongue out at him.

Joining him on the couch again you start to drift to sleep, leaning on Erik’s shoulder. It was nice to have someone to snuggle up to, even though he had no pulse, he wasn’t cold or stiff. He just was him, with no heart. So, himself.

Your eyes flutter awake as something caresses your face. You peer up to see Erik’s hand combing back your curls with his fingers. “Come on, lemme sleep.” Erik keeps caressing your face, planting a kiss on top of your head. You look up at him suspiciously. “Uh, ok. With that, I think I’ll go to my room tonight.”

There was no way in hell you could go through life having fucked around with a corpse. Could he even do shit anyway? Day by day, he is less of a toddler acting dude and more of the man he once was, but he was still mute and not alive!

You get up to go to your room, looking back at him as you open the door to go inside. You leave the door open a crack, in case of anything and try to forget what’s happened. Erik was still Erik, dead or alive, but there was no way, not on God’s green Earth.

You lay in bed a moment, facing away from the door. You close your eyes praying for sleep but you were suddenly wide awake and anxious. You hear the door creak open.

“Erik, I don’t know, I just want to sleep so--” The bed creaks as his weight slides next to yours. You turn to face him.

“You don’t sleep remember? So there is no reason to be here.” You say authoritatively. Erik is looking you dead in the eye. His hand rises to rest on your hip, more innocently than anything. “Are you still checking that I am ok?” Erik nods. “You don’t have to be sorry or anything, we are good. I’ve gotten used to having you around and I mean, it’s nice or whatever. A nigga that can’t talk back.”

Erik smirks at your aside, rubbing your hip, firmly. You feel yourself gettin tight between your legs so you adjust, while at the same time scooching closer to Erik, who pulls you into him. It didn’t take long for your lips to meet his, and the answer to your previous inquiry begins to poke your thigh.

Kissing him felt so good to you, it really made you forget most of the logistics behind what was about to happen. You roll yourself on top of him to straddle, taking off your shirt and helping him out of his. You felt so many questions lingering on your lips that could keep you from going further, but they hushed when he kissed your breasts. Your head leans back as he gently licks your nipples, massaging your back, turning you into puddy in his hands. You run your hands through his freshened locs as he hums into your areola, flipping you on your back. As he takes down his tenting sweatpants, you pull off your bottoms hoping this is worth whatever natural laws you may be breaking.

Everything about him was perfection, from his scars to his muscles to his roaring erection. No one would believe he was in a grave just a couple days ago. Maybe you could make this work, maybe he could stick around a while…

Erik’s eyes were dark with lust as he sized up your opening with his tip. You bring his gaze to your face.

“Don’t go too fast, ok? Keep it slow…” You say instructively. If he needed coaching on bathing himself, you weren’t risking the destruction of your walls to his enthusiastic ignorance.

Erik nods as he keeps his gaze upon you, you feel obligated to not look away so you can keep focus on him not obliterating your pelvis. As you feel him enter, your mouth flops open as you wince. Erik stops from your reaction, holding his breath trying not to hurt you.

You squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. “It’s alright, go ahead. I’ll tell you to stop otherwise.” You really didn’t want this to be whack or painful, this was the guy of your dreams come back to life. A sex God of your fantasies, but it’s like you’re dealing with a virgin from outer space.

Erik pushes further into you, increasing your discomfort but once settled in, you could feel yourself becoming accustomed. You nod, allowing Erik to begin to move inside you slowly. The pace was good enough to make the pain go away but now you needed more.

“Faster, Erik, just a little.”

Erik bites his lips to pick up his pacing, finally you feel waves of pleasure building.

“Mhm, deeper, please.” You moan as you bring your hand down to stimulate your clit. Erik brings your legs back to oblige your request, grunting as he felt you tightening around him.

“Ahh, that’s it. Oh, that’s good, keep going Erik!” You encourage him as you climax under his strokes. Erik seems to get the hang of it as his grip digs into your thighs, mixing the depth of his strokes at an angle to relieve your G spot.

“Ohh, come on, Erik. My pussy so wet, show me it’s yours!” You whine, grabbing the pillow behind your head as you run your hand down his studded chest and abdomen.

Erik lays on top of you, grinding his hips against you, putting all of himself into you while hitting your clit just right. His breath on your neck couple with his primal growls made you lock him into place, calling out his name without regard until he suddenly pulled from you. Stroking himself over you, the amount of seed that left him was so much, you thought surely he would die of dehydration. There should not have been any liquid left in him after how hard he came, your stomach, breasts, even up to your neck was covered in his cum. He made a whole glazed donut out of you.

“Damn, Erik! Is it like that?” you say, touching it lightly, contemplating the clean up of your situation.

Erik breathed out heavily, a little too heavy, as he lied down with a thud, eyes fluttering closed.

You spring up, alarmed. “Erik….Erik?”

He laid there motionless. He already had no pulse so no use in checking that. Did he die die? You smack him and shake him but he doesn’t stir.

Getting out of the shower, you peek slowly to see him still knocked out, you laid a sheet over him for decency. You shake your fists at the ceiling, arguing with God about how your behavior warranted this outcome. Going into the living room, you pull up the website you got the resurrection spell from to see if there was a wear off period. If you had known that, you would’ve let him wander around after he hopped out that grave instead of taking him home.

Zzzzzz…

You look towards your bedroom, alarmed by the noise. Zzzz… Was he...snoring? yOu get up and peek inside to see. He was definitely snoring, loud as hell, but you breathe out thanking God you hadn’t killed him again. You go in, sitting on the bed again, laying a hand over his nose to feel him breath. Laying a hand on his chest, you feel a familiar flutter that nearly took you out. His pulse was racing, renewed within himself, you couldn’t fathom what was going on. So he was now alive? A living, breathing being? Could he talk now?

You decide not to wake him but come morning, you would be ready to go over his state of being. Going back to the living room you research on your laptop, coming up with nothing more until you passed out for the evening.

When the sun wakes you the next morning, you stretch feeling work out and exhausted despite the full night’s rest. You feel sore and become worried until you forget the abominable act of last night. Holding your head, you moan in shame thinking of how many ways you could be considered an insane sex maniac. You let out a heavy sigh as you walk to your bedroom to finish what your research of your newly livened friend, but the bed was bare of his presence. You cursed under your breath as you looked out a window, checked the bathroom, before going out the front door.

You find his at your car door, using some device to pop the dent out of it. You stomp over to him. “Erik! You can’t disappear like that, I thought that was clear! Are you alright? You passed out after...you know.”

Erik looks up to you, standing up, putting a hand to your hip. You swipe it away.

“That’s what started shit before, don’t think it’s happening again! Besides that though, I touched you and felt something I didn’t think was possible.” Erik made a face suggestively. “No, your heartbeat! I felt it. You know what I mean.”

Erik puts a hand to his chest to feel for himself, nodding.

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I thought I killed you, but then your heart started again. Like, you’re alive again, right now! So I actually brought you to life twice! Haha, nuts!” You laugh awkwardly over sirens in the distance as Erik stands there looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “This would be so much funnier if you could talk though. Which reminds me, where the hell did you get that thing to take the dent out of my car?”

The sirens get closer as a cop car pulls in front of your house. Two cops come out with guns drawn.

“Don’t move! Sir get on the ground with your hands up!”

Erik’s eyes widen as he steps in front of you. You peer over his shoulders. “Officers, you must have something wrong. What’s goin on?”

“This guy was seen stealing equipment from an auto body shop a few blocks from here. He is under arrest for trespassing, breaking and entering, burglary, and if he doesn’t comply now, a lot more.”

You touch Erik’s back. “You stole that?? Erik, you shouldn’t have left without telling me, I would’ve told you not to worry about it!”

Erik turns around to face you.

“I said hands on the ground!” The officer says loudly.

Erik looks in your eyes, searching your face for something to say, if only he could. You could barely make it out but once he opened his mouth you could recognize his words. “(Y/N)....”

A gunshot rang through the air, making you both jump as one of the officers fired, presumably in the air. Erik bolts behind your house to the backyard, cops following suit.

“Erik! Stop! You can’t do this!” You yell running after them. You hear them going through some of the wooded parts, opting to stay out of it, yelling his name for him to give up or come back. He really messed up now. They would be looking for him now that he was on the run, and finding him at your house leaves you open to surveillance. Going back to the front door of your house you look back at your fixed car door, saddened that the dent was gone to remember him by.

“Miss, you’d better come with me.” One of the cops come back with his gun drawn on you.

You raise your hands slowly, trying to remain calm. “For what?”

He shrugs, “Harboring a fugitive, aiding and abetting. Conspiracy to commit robbery, I can make some shit up. But you being with him, makes you a suspect all the same. Now get in the car.”

You blink your eyes to keep from crying out right as you walk slowly to the back fo the squad car. He pushes your head in as you duck in and slams the door on you. When he gets in, his partner comes through huffing and puffing.

“Can you believe that Black bastard running like that? We’ll find him, no problem. Sticks out like a sore thumb.”

They drive off with you, chatting about Erik and putting out his description on the radio. “Your boyfriend is in a whole hell a lot of trouble, so when we get you to the station, just follow our instructions, let us know what he’s done, where he might be, and let us do our job.” Your eyes well up as you shake your head. There was nothing you could add to the situation, and even if you did you wouldn’t help them! You look aimlessly out the window watching the trees zip by, hoping Erik has found a path far from where you are now.

Just then the car comes to a screeching halt as you are flung forward, hitting the partition with a thud.

“What the hell...It’s him! Carl, call back up!” The officer exclaims as he gets out the car. Carl calls back up as you look to see Erik in full on rage as he stares down the officer with his taser out. The officer says something but you can’t hear and Erik doesn’t look up for talking. The cop deploys the taser, making Erik wince and twist under the shocks. The officer approaches him as Carl steps out the car, and suddenly Erik has him by the throat and hoisted in the air. Carl moves quicker now as he gets his gun out. Erik doesn’t miss a beat, tossing his partner at him, sending them toppling over the side of the road, down to a ravine.

You watch all of this wailing for Erik to stop as you try to get out the car in vain. You beat on the window when Erik stomps towards them again, snapping him out of his angered trance. He goes to your side of the car, pulling the door open like a chicken bone. You crawl out, jumping into his arms.

“Erik, you gotta go, now! There will be more and you can’t fight them all, they’ll kill you.”

“I’ll...die….then.” Erik strains from his voice. You look at him incredulously.

“No. you will not! You did enough of that already! You will go back to my house right now and we will go somewhere, anywhere but here to save you!”

You get into the squad car to drive back to your place, trying to hatch a plan along the way. When you arrive, you run out of the car towards your door, trying to ignore the sirens coming. Erik gets you by the arm, pulling you to him. “There’s no time Erik, we gotta go! I just need my wallet and some clothes, and-”

“Don’t...I’ll run.” Erik says slowly.

You shake your head. “Where? Where could you possibly go with no ID, money, or people you know? You’re still dead according to your tombstone.”

The sirens get closer, sounding just a couple blocks away now. Erik walks away from you, heading for the road. “I’ll...find you….(Y/N).”

Your vision blurs as you get emotional again. “Don’t worry about me, just go! I can’t see you die again, just get out!”

Erik nods running down the road and heading for the wilderness along the road again. When cops arrive, they question you, but you’re of little help. You don’t know how this happened, who he was, or where he went. That didn’t stop them from canvassing the place and watching you for the next month to track his whereabouts.

One night, when all the searching died down, you took a turn down the road you traveled once before, heading to his tombstone for old times sake. You hadn’t heard from Erik in a couple months, but you figured he got away with it so far since the news hadn’t shared any updates. Looking at his spot in the ground, the earth has been filled again, grass filling in sparsely. Kneeling in the grass, you pull out a small $2 shot of Hennessy and pour a little out for him.

“Can you believe I miss your raggedy ass right now? I came here because the first time when I woke you cuz I missed dick, but now I just miss you and...I just hope you alright.” You sit in the stillness of the cemetery a moment. “I don’t know how to contact you, so I just brought myself to here for a symbolic talk is all. Got a pizza waiting for me in the car so I shouldn’t let that get cold, huh? Ugh, this was stupid right?” You get up sighing over the non-closure closure of your situation.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your car alarm goes crazy when you look over where it’s parked, you fumble with your keys to turn it off. A shadow passes over the headlights making you freeze in place. The figure reappears, stepping into the light, looking worse for wear but alive nonetheless.

“Pizza?” He asks.

#fictober18 #erik killmonger fanfic #black panther au fanfic #shakafic #fanfic

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kookadoodle · 7 years ago

Text

The Post-It Messenger

PLOT: A stranger admires Y/N from afar and takes her breath away with his art and innovation.

PAIRING: Taehyung x reader GENRE: fluff, S2L!AU WARNINGS: swearing, a lot of fluffy stuff WORDCOUNT: 3k A/N: first drabble, hope u enjoy x

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I put on a record of my favorite music and turn the volume up just right, letting the euphoric sounds seek through the speakers and surround me as it continues out through my apartment. It is Sunday, and it has almost become a routine for me to put on a good album as I clean up the mess I have made during the week. The vibe of the track embraces me so gently yet so vibrant, making me start moving my shoulders and hips to the beats. It feels a little silly to dance on my own, knowing dance is not really my forte. I giggle and overdue it just enough for it to be more funny than serious, amusing myself.

I walk over to the balcony and open up the doors, letting in the fresh air of spring. The sun is bright and lights up the room, complementing my white and wooden furniture with a nice tone. It already looks cleaner and more manageable, which I thank the weather for. The place is not too bad and five songs later, when side A has finished, my apartment is as good as new and rather inviting to look at. I turn over the record to play side B and slightly turn down the volume for a softer mood to calm my clammy skin. I pour myself a fresh glass of water and plop in a slice of lemon along with a few ice cubes, bringing it with me out on the balcony, which is just big enough to fit a small table set with two chairs. I place my glass on the table and look down onto the street below me. The traffic is not too busy, and the people seem calm and content, enjoying the weather. Spring is my favorite time of year and therefore I feel extra chipper today. Across from my building is another building with what seems to be a hundred windows, and they all reflect the blue sky and white clouds in them, bringing me inspiration. I step inside and grab my notepad and pen, bringing them out with me. I sit back down and lean back, placing my paper in my lap with my feet resting on the opposite chair. I click the pen and start to write what comes to mind.

“Blue is the color of logic, I promise it is so.

When I see blue, I think of things that I have come to know.

I think of the sky and how it separates us from the dark.

I think of how the world is blue from oceans that keep us apart.

Many say that blue is sad, yet how can that be true?

It is only logic I see, when I see the color blue.”

I scribble on, leaving poetic words on the page, traced by blue ink, which seems almost unforgivingly cheesy. Time goes by as I write and sketch and doodle on the notepad, listening to the sweet sounds of soothing blues.

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

I pour the last cup of coffee, smiling at the customer, before I head out back and finish my shift at work. I take off the apron and say goodbye to my colleagues as I am on my way home. I walk out onto the street and pull out my phone, seeing a text on the screen.

[Today 15:05]

Y/F/N: Hey Y/N

Y/F/N: I’ll be dropping by later with that shirt I borrowed, if that’s okay?

[Today 17:05]

Y/N: sure thing :))

Y/F/N has been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and even though she knows that she is welcome anytime, she is still polite enough to ask. I like that about her. Not that I would mind her showing up at random, yet it shows that she respects my privacy. I finally reach my apartment block and climb the three flights of stairs. That was fucking exhausting, I think to myself, slightly embarrassed by my own cardio work. As I step up to my front door, I notice something resting against it. It is a medium-sized canvas with a note. I grab the canvas and turn it around to face me. My heart drops. It’s me, I repeat to myself in my head, startled by the sight I am met with. It is a painting of me, sitting on my balcony with my notepad and pen. I quickly open up the folded piece of paper by the door, revealing the written words inside.

“I saw you yesterday and you inspired me. I promise, I am not a creepy stalker. I simply thought you were beautiful and I had to paint you. I hope you like it”

A smile forms itself on my lips against my wishes. I feel both very flattered, yet also quite astonished. Who is this person? I ask myself, unsure of what I should be feeling. I bring the canvas inside and study it more closely. Apart from it being me (which freaks me out a little… or maybe even a lot), the painting itself is actually really beautiful. The detail of it proves the talent of its maker. Realizing the angle, I walk over to the balcony doors and look out, trying to find the stranger’s place. It must be from an apartment in the building across from mine. It only takes a few seconds for my eyes to notice something odd, standing out from the ocean of apartments. One of the windows have blue colored Post-Its on it, making up two words and a question mark: “like painting?”

I smile again, wider this time and feel as if butterflies are flying around in my tummy. I step into my room and pull out a stack of plain white Post-Its from my desk, bringing them back with me. One by one, I stick them onto the glass until it spells the word: “yes” on the balcony door. As I finish creating the last letter, I take a step back, checking it over. It looks fine, yet I start to wonder for how long I should keep them up, not knowing if the stranger will respond or even see my answer to their question. I take a breath and try to shake it off, since there might be hours until anything happens. I make myself a bowl of cereal and after I have finished eating, I check again. To my surprise, the stranger has already responded with a new word and a smiley: “good :)”

I take down the green post-its and rearrange them into a question of my own; “How to thank u?”, I write. The whole thing feels conflicting, since I do not know who it is. It could be prince charming (which I hope, since it would be so damn romantic) or it could be an old lady or a serial killer. I notice how fast my theories evolve and start to scare me a little. Before I know it, the stranger has written something new in a neon orange color. “May I come?” the Post-Its say, kind of stealing my breath away. I want to say yes, yet it feels very forward to do so. But they did ask, which seems even more forward than saying yes. “Okay,” I write back, feeling the nervousness hitting me like a brick wall. It is almost terrifying, and the wait is killing me. What am I doing? I rush around, cleaning up my already cleaned apartment and fix my already fixed hair in the mirror in the hall. Suddenly, in what feels like two minutes after, I hear a knock on the door.

“Y/N! How are you?” my best friend says with a big smile, throwing her arms around me in a hug. I sigh with relief as the face I see is a familiar one. Good timing, I think to myself, feeling calmer from her presence. “Come in!” I say and step away, allowing her to enter into my home. She places her bag on the kitchen counter and gives me another hug, making me grin. “Just so you know, I have someone coming over in a minute,” I say nervously, feeling the realization hitting me once again like a brick wall. “Who?” she asks suggestively, wiggling her brows. “I don’t know, actually,” I say with a strained smile, causing her to frown instead. Suddenly, I hear another knock and I turn towards it, looking back and forth at my friend and the door. It is like I freeze for the first few seconds until my friend suggests at me to make a move. “Get the door,” she says a little worried. I force myself to walk over to the door and turn the knob as my heart beats slightly faster. Y/F/N cannot see me from the kitchen and therefore my reaction is mine and mine alone. I do not know if that is a good thing or not. I open it up, and to my surprise I am met with the sight of the most beautiful individual I have ever seen. His eyes are big and brown, and his hair matches their vibrant color. His hands are in the pockets of his khaki slacks and his dress shirt is a deep blue that brings out the melanin of his skin and the pinkish color in his cheeks. The moment feels to be in slow motion as I observe the change of his reaction from nervousness to absolute relief. A boxy smile widens on him, showing me his perfect teeth and charming features. I smile back as I am immediately smitten with him, and I pull a strand of hair behind my ear as I morph into soft mush right before him. “Hi, I am the Post-It messenger from across the street,” he says in a deep raspy voice that soothes me. His confidence is somewhat terrifying, yet also very calming as it rubs off on me a bit. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” I say gently, reaching out a hand. His hand embraces mine in a soft squeeze as he smiles politely. It is warm and caresses my skin comfortably. “I’m Taehyung,” he says politely, and the sound melts in my ears like butter.

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After inviting him in and Y/F/N has rushed out as soon as she saw my non-terrifying company, leaving us two alone, I make him a cup of tea. I cannot help but gaze at him as he is sitting at my table, and I try my best to stay composed. I need to remind myself that the -hot water pouring- should stop at some point, before it reaches over the rim of the cup. Luckily, I stop in time. “I hope I didn’t creep you out with my gift,” he says shyly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. I bring over the cup and place it before him as I sit down across from him. “No, not at all. It’s a beautiful painting. I was just surprised to see myself in it,” I chuckle. He smiles back and nods in understanding, imagining how it must feel to be approached by a complete stranger like that. He lifts the cup up to his lips and blows it to cool it down, before he takes a sip of its warmth. “I feel a little awkward about it, but I just thought you were so pretty and calm, sitting out there… and I felt it was necessary to capture that moment somehow,” he explains as he rest the mug on the surface before him. I see admiration in his eyes, which makes me believe I can trust him. I smile and tilt my head, listening to him compliment me in such a polite yet heartful way. I normally feel uncomfortable with people praising me but hearing them roll off of his tongue seems too good to be true. It captures me unapologetically. “Wanna go to the movies with me?” he suddenly asks out of the blue. He reaches up a hand to his collar and pulls the fabric of his dress shirt as he waits for a reply. He shakes his head, grinning at his own forwardness. He seems surprised at his own actions, but not as surprised as when I accept his request.

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I walk up to the counter and Taehyung asks for two tickets. He takes out his wallet, and I pull out mine as well, yet he places a hand on mine, wanting me to put it away. “I’ll pay for my own ticket,” I say kindly. “A gentleman pays for his date’s ticket,” he says cheekily, suggesting that he really wants to. I giggle to myself at the fact that he called me his date, and I feel pleased about it. He pays the man and receives the tickets, handing one over to me, causing our skin to touch. The sensation lingers a few seconds after we part. I step away from the counter and walk closely, feeling his arm next to mine and his hand next to mine. One reach of a finger and we would touch again, which I oddly long for. I might not know him that well, yet I feel as if I do. Like I have known him for years and every look into his eyes and every boxy smile of his brings us closer. Some people just have a way about them, and Taehyung is one of those people. The date carries on as we are watching the movie, sitting next to each other in the dark dimmed room. I wish for him to take my hand or do the yawn-excuse-thing as they always do in movies, but he does not. I do not exactly blame him, since we literally just met, yet I cannot help the thoughts strolling through my mind. Is he not enjoying himself or is he just nervous? I really cannot tell. The movie turns out to be rather awful and we spend the time leaning over and whispering comments into the other’s ear, making each other laugh. People shush us, yet it is very hard not to be loud, when he surprises me with every humorous word and I him. The movie ends against our wishes and I rise up, following behind him as he leads me out. He reaches back a hand to me and I grab on to it, interlocking with him. A rush runs through me, and I try my hardest to hide it as I do not want to seem overly excited. I might manage to keep a straight face, but the smile on his suggests that he is having trouble fighting the obvious attraction. He pulls me through the building and out onto the street, where the sky has turned a deeper blue. It is almost as if it is matching him on purpose. We walk beside each other still with my hand in his, and we talk about how surprisingly funny the movie had turned out to be. I place my opposite hand on his arm and lean slightly against him. I feel him leaning back against me and tilting his head in comfort. We reach my apartment and I turn around towards him. “Thank you,” I say softly. “No, thank you, I had a nice time,” he says back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He is standing close to me as if a magnet is pulling him in. He watches me intently. “Me too, yet I really meant for the painting. I love it,” I grin, looking up at him into his big brown eyes that seem almost black in this lighting. The mood makes both our expression soften as we study each other’s faces. “I’m glad you do,” he says sincerely. We turn quiet for a moment, sharing the silent space. I start smiling as I look down in shyness, feeling overwhelmed by his presence. Suddenly, I feel his hand as it gently caresses my cheek and pulls my lips up to his. Softly, he leans in and places a kiss on me, making me melt in his embrace. He pulls away far too early, forcing me to replay the moment in my head over and over for the rest of the night. “I’ll look forward to next time,” he says almost in a whisper against my cheek, making my heart flutter. He pulls away and winks at me before making his way down the hall. I step into my apartment in a flustered state, closing the door behind me. I lean against the door and sigh as I indulge in what lingers of him. Fuck, I think to myself, completely amazed by him. I grin at myself as I step further inside, finally sensing my heart return to normal.

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I sit on the balcony once again with my notepad and pen, looking at the sky and the windows of his building. I wonder if he is home and if he sees me sitting here, looking for him. I try not to be too obvious in my search, though it is hard not to look. It is hard not to long for him. I cannot find him in his windows, so I settle for my own company and imagination. I bring the end of the pen to my lips, contemplating on what to write and from where to draw inspiration. All I can think of is him - him and his soft lips and brown eyes and blue dress shirt. Blue like the sky that paints the distance between us and blue like the color of his Post-Its that brought us together. Blue. I look at my poem and decide that it needs a different view. Clicking the pen, I place the tip on the paper, adding more to my previous work.

“Blue is the color of logic, yet why is it only so?

When I see blue, I think of things that you will never know.

I think of the sky and how it carries wonders in the air.

I think of how unlucky the world would be, if blue were never there.

Oops, I told you my thoughts, so I guess it wasn’t true.

Now you know what I truly feel, when I see the color blue”

#bts #btsimagine #imagine #kimtaehyung #bts v #drabble #fluff #artist au #taehyung #taehyung x reader #tae imagine #taetae #kpop #bangtan #bts masterlist #taehyung scenario

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dreamingoftchalla · 7 years ago

Text

Tender (T'challa x Black! Reader)

A quiet morning of reminiscing first encounters - just a lot of fluff tbh - I ain't good at this or thinking up titles...

Warnings: none? (only very vague mentions of sexiness lmao)

kwelanga yam: my sun

sthandwa sami: my love

Ag (ach): South African filler expression (mostly of disappointment)

Words: 1,734

____________________________________________

T’Challa lies awake, gazing down at his sleeping Queen with an adoration that almost felt suffocating. The smile that stretches across his face could have split it when you hug yourself closer to his side. His fingers trace gently against your spine, marvelling the smoothness of your glowing brown skin - so rich that the Wakandan soil crumbles with envy. In some places, gold ribbons sought the fuller curves of your form; it told him of the war your body has overcome. You are a work of art, the epitome of beauty and he worships every detail of you.

He tries not to laugh at himself. The teasing Shuri and Okoye subjects him to definitely comes from truth. “You are a soft touch, brother,” he remembers Shuri telling him when he had spent the day gushing to her about “the beauty from the market.” After a while, she had him removed from her lab, for he would not “shut up” and let her concentrate.

T’Challa thinks back to the day you both met. It was an unusual meeting and a chuckle rumbles in his chest. You were (and still are) feisty, and as much capable as the Dora Milaje.

____________________________________________

You are at one of the many vibrant fruit stands, palming mangoes, muttering to yourself about their over-ripeness and the ridiculous pricing for such bad produce amongst a sea of quality. No, you are just bitter because your older sister, Bucchi, got out of doing the shopping…

…But also because you can feel eyes burning a hole in the back of your neck. You find yourself frequently turning around, scanning the cheerful melanin-enriched faces surrounding you. Each time coming up with nothing out of the ordinary (other than your paranoia…). Clicking your tongue with growing impatience (because again, that watched feeling has returned and you really don't wanna be dealing with this type of foolishness), you leave the stand in search for another, your empty woven basket tucked protectively beneath your arm.

That's when you feel a sharp yank on your basket, almost enough to make you miss your footing.

“Ehn!”

You're surprised the tugging persists. This fool is brave. The initial shock transforms into anger when you look over your shoulder to find a skinny old man with a stupid smile on his face. However, upon seeing the fire in your eyes and the venom in your voice when you yell, “I will smack you O!”, the man’s grip loosens.

“Sorry ma… Please ma, he-the pr-”

You snatch the basket back, cursing as you leave. All you wanted to do is get fruit and go, but instead, you were fixing to fight an old man.

“Imagine!”

You are not doing this again. You will tell baba about this day and he will never allow you to endure such suffering again, and it will be Bucchi that will have to-

-Your thoughts are stilled by the sudden tap on your shoulder.

It is not often you are stunned into silence, but the man stood before you was a good reason to be speechless.

Prince T’Challa. The Prince is there, stood before you, arms bearing fruit and vegetables. He must have seen the exchange you had with the old man; the amused grin on his face is telling….

… His face…This handsome face is the face that will make you want to recite poems, visit children in orphanages... but also make you want to sin on a Sunday, and daydream of different ways of sinning every other day….

You clear your throat, and maintain eye contact as best as you can. “Your highness. ” You attempt to keep your voice level, but in doing so, your voice comes out with the vague sarcastic edge you often reserve for your sister.

The Prince’s smile doesn't falter, but he begins to shift from where he stands, now cautious. “I cannot help but feel it is my fault you have left with an empty basket,”

You're floored by his voice. Yes, you have heard him speak plenty of times on the tv, but that is very different to in the flesh. His voice on the tv did not raise the skin on your arms. His voice on the tv did not carry the same power his soft tone possessed. The power it had to make you weak at the knees.

You're in an endless spiral, staring at the man before you, observing the way his posture is changing, his amusement returning, but with a sense of bashfulness that surprises you….

That's when you remember what he said, and you are bemused. You welcome the feeling, for fear your longing for the Prince may have been written all over your face. Also, you have been staring for too long. “Your fault?” you manage, your own voice sounding alien with a new found gentleness.

“I believe…if I had not been so distracted, you would not have left so soon.”

Prince T’Challa sighs, seeing his words have not managed to remove your confusion. “I am sorry. I should have requested the favour from one of the children. I did not expect the old man to approach you with such aggression.”

You stare at him, eyes squinted as it finally makes sense to you. So the Prince had been the cause of that watched feeling. The old man was to get your attention.

Ahn, Ahn! You feel bad. You were quick to threaten the old man….No, that was not your fault, you thought he was going to steal from you. All because of a certain shy Prince.

A wry smile settles on your face and you hold out the basket. He empties the fruit into it. You hoist the basket up and place it atop your colourful headwrap. “Eh hen! I see. Well, you are forgiven. ” His relief is palpable, and you still have his undivided attention. So you tease, “I am surprised I was wrong to believe the Prince of Wakanda was a courageous man,”

“Ah…I,” You giggle as he fumbles over his words. And since when do you produce such a sound like giggling? Your laughter is usually throaty, loud, dirty, never this musical nonsense. The Prince is smiling now, and you are gifted with the view of the endearing gap in his teeth. Your heart drops into your vagina.

“Maybe so,” he laughs, taking a brazen step closer to you. If your heart beats any faster, you fear you’ll faint. “Though, you cannot blame me for being entranced by your beauty. It is enough to render any man weak and instill him with the strength of an army,”

You praise God for your skin set deep with melanin; blood rushes to your face at his words. Now you are struggling to find your equilibrium, your palms are moist with sweat, and your legs feel unsteady. However, you are stubborn, and with a defiant lift of your chin, you accept the flirting as a dual. A dual you will not lose. Why are you like this?

“Then I look forward to seeing both sides of the Prince. Often.”

Once again, he is at a loss of words, and yet again, you are making that sound. Giggling. You feel bold, bold enough to take his hand in yours and kiss the back of it, ignoring the way the size of his hand causes your stomach to swim with yearning. When you meet his eyes again, mirth is shining brightly in its cocoa depths.

You curtsey and start to make your way home with an extra spring in your step.

The Prince watches as you leave, astonished. He knew then that he wanted you in his life for as long as he walks the earth.

____________________________________________

Your lips find his collarbone, delicate kisses pressing across the hard expanse of his chest until he finally looks down at you. He had been so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice when you awakened, or when you had placed yourself in his arms, your body draped over his.

“Sthandwa sami, kwelanga yam,” his voice is vaguely singsong in tone, and the gentleness melts you. You feel whenever you look at him, hear him, sense him, your love renews. It's as though you are falling in love all over again.

You can never tire of this man.

Your King.

“By Bast, you will kill me with such an expression,” he smiles, cradling your face. But you can't help how you gaze upon him. You have never loved someone so deeply.

“Then I will have Shuri clone you, maybe she can sort out the error you experience. The freezing, abi?”

He exaggerates a gasp, his head dodging your hands which attempt to sooth his face as you laugh. “Ag, but you said it was cute,” he mutters, pretending to sulk.

“It is very cute, my King. But when you freeze, I swoon, and then we are both incapacitated. Who will run the Kingdom while we are in error mode?”

T’Challa’s grin is so wide, and you can't hold back those girlish giggles. You have come to accept that whenever you are in your King's presence, giggles have become inevitable. For only the King can draw such gentle sounds from you…. Although, he also manages to unearth raw, filthy sounds from your lips that you didn't think you were capable of making.

“There are methods to tackle our ‘error mode’, if you will allow me to demonstrate,”

You lean down to capture his lips between your own. Your lips move in tandem, savouring the taste of one another, but much too soon for T’Challa’s liking, you lean away.

“Later. Let us wash up, we must meet everyone for breakfast,” You are already stepping out of bed, your body bare of materials, but your rich dark skin wears the golden bands of sunlight just as well. You bend over to collect your robe from the floor and your King's wanton groan causes you to grin.

“My Queen...We can spare another hour, hm?”

This has become routine - next he will try to get out of the bed as quickly and quietly as possible, so that he can pluck your robe from your grasp. Then his eyes will take their sweet time raking over your body, relishing every curve, causing your south to liquefy. Then he will pull you into his embrace, but you have already given in by then because those beautiful eyes have convinced you that a few hours are needed.

Unfortunately for your King, the Black Panther, today he is too slow.

#tchalla x black reader #black panther x reader #black panther fanfiction #african reader #black panther imagine

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forgle · 7 years ago

Text

Five Weeks In Detention Chapter 4: The Third Week

Read it on AO3

Chapter 4/6

Word Count: 2578

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Piper definitely had a crush.

She was willing to admit that now. She was willing to admit that as soon as Annabeth and Percy hugged like two people who love each other. It was clear as day that they’d go through hell for each other just in the way they’re faces looked when they saw one another.

Piper thought it was kinda ironic that she could tell other people’s feelings with one look but it took her three weeks so realize her own.

Though, I did make sense that she had a crush on Annabeth after spending four hours in her presence every day for two weeks. And texting her constantly when they aren't together. And thinking about Annabeth.

Thinking about Annabeth more than any “just friend” should.

Thinking about her how lemony colored hair shines in the sunlight, how her skin looked like buttercream frosting, and how her eyes were like stone. Piper wondered what it would be like to run her hands through her curls. She didn’t care if it was tangled.

‘Thinking about a probably straight girl who has a boyfriend.’ Piper reminded herself. As she and Annabeth got lunch during school.

“I came up with a design for a building last night, I ended up staying up really late drawing it,” Annabeth said as they walked to their table.

“Can I see it?” Piper asked.

“Um, yeah, I just need to give it a few finishing touches.”

They sat down at the table where Leo was already sitting. Annabeth pulled out a notebook and started drawing. Piper tried to distract herself with her food. She took one bite and spit it back out.

“What's wrong?” Leo asked.

“Lunch is extra shitty today.” Piper pushed the tray away.

“Should've brought yours from home.” Leo took a bite of his enchilada. Piper stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh god, that really is awful,” Annabeth said, with food still in her mouth. “How can you fuck up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

Piper leaned forward towards Annabeth, “How about I throw this out and we get Chinese food after detention, Annabeth?” Piper turned to Leo, “Without Leo.” she added.

“Hell yeah,” Annabeth pushed her tray of food away and went back to drawing. Piper picked up both trays and took them over to the trash. After she threw out the contents of the trays her mind went back to Annabeth. Piper turned on her phone and was faced with her and Annabeth's recent texts.

Another issue with Piper’s unrequited crush is the fact that it’s commonplace for platonic girlfriends to be somewhat intimate while still remaining platonic. For instance, last week, when Annabeth spent a day with her probably-boyfriend, Percy, she felt perfectly comfortable with texting Piper pictures of the swimsuits she somehow found to ask her opinions on which she should get.

Piper wasn't prepared for that. And she didn’t want to be creepy but Annabeth looked good in the swimsuits. Piper felt perverted when she looked at the pictures. It's not like she did or even thought perverted things, the feeling just came with it.

She was now distracted by the photos and didn't even notice that she was just standing there by the trashcans like a weirdo. One swimsuit was a black one-piece which Annabeth said she preferred. The other was a pink, purple, and blue tie-dye which she said Percy wanted her to get. Piper never responded to her. She just changed to subject a couple hours later and assumed Annabeth pucked one out on her own. She looked great in both.

Piper put her phone away and walked back to the table. Annabeth had finished drawing and was now looking at something on her phone.

“Oh, yeah, which swimsuit did you end up picking, Annabeth?” Piper asked as she sat down.

“Neither, I found a one piece in the same tie-dye, Percy was so happy I picked on with the colors of the bi flag.”

“Are you bi?” Piper asked.

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing ever. She scrolled through her phone and held it up, “Here’s a picture of the swimsuit.”

Annabeth looked good in this one too. But that wasn’t important. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you’re bi,” Piper said.

“There's a big flag pin on my backpack,” Annabeth said.

Piper was willing to admit that was pretty obvious. “Can I see your drawing?” Piper asked.

Annabeth put down her phone and held up her notebook. There was a pencil drawing of a tall skyscraper with trees around the bottom and notes about the height and how many floors the building has written next to it.

“It's really good,” Piper said.

“What kind of building is it?” Leo asked.

“A made-up company’s headquarters,” Annabeth said, putting the notebook down. “Maybe your future mechanic company, Leo.”

“Hell yeah, when I'm rich and famous for being a mechanic you're designing the headquarters of m company and my giant mansion.” Leo took a bite of his food.

“You couldn't afford me.” Annabeth leaned across the table and took a bite of Leo's enchilada.

Piper looked down at her phone and started scrolling through Instagram. When her stomach growled she prayed to any god that was listening that she wouldn't starve to death before the end of school.

***

“Siri, find a Chinese restaurant nearby,” Annabeth said into her phone from the passenger seat.

“There are three Chili's near you,”

“No!” Annabeth said. Piper laughed.

“Here,” Piper said, looking it up on her own phone. They picked out a restaurant and Piper set her phone in the cupholder while it read her directions.

When they arrived they realized the restaurant they had picked was really just for takeout. So they each bought a serving of vegetable fried rice and took their takeout to a park and found a shady patch of grass to sit on as they ate.

Piper took a bite of her rice. “Y’know for takeout, this is really good rice,”

“Definitely,” Annabeth said her mouth full.

Piper took off her shoes so she could feel the cold grass on her skin. “By the way, Annabeth,” she started.

Annabeth looked up from her food.

“You’ve only lived here a couple months right?”

Annabeth nodded.

“But your brothers have been here a while, I met them on Halloween last year. I remember ‘cause they can to my house wearing headdresses and face paint.” Piper used air-quotes as she said “Native American”

“I held their candy hostage while I gave them both a lecture on cultural appropriation. Anyways, did like your dad and stepmom get married after Halloween or something?” Piper said.

Annabeth smiled put down her rice. “Well, um that’s a kind of long story-” she took a deep breath and Piper was afraid she had crossed a line. “-Um, when I was about ten, I wanted to go live with my mom in New York, so I did. I lived there until this summer when my mom and I could barely stand each other anymore.”

Piper scooted closer to Annabeth. “What was New York like? I mean, besides your mom.”

Annabeth smiled. “Other than my mom, New York was fantastic. Usually, after school and on weekends I’d just go hang out with Thalia, which was so nice, I mean, Thalia’s the best, she raised me better than my mom every did. Also, she was actually the whole reason I went to summer camp. She was a counselor and suggested I go so I wouldn’t have to spend the whole summer around my mom.”

“Is the summer camp where you met Percy?”

“Yeah, I made a lot of friends there. I was kinda hard not to when I went there every summer for six years. The camp was the only thing that seemed real. Everything else felt like it had no purpose”

“You really loved that camp, huh?” Piper had never seen Annabeth speak so fondly of something.

“I mean, yeah, I even had my first kiss there.”

Piper raised one eyebrow. “With Percy?”

There was a faint pink tint on Annabeth’s cheeks. “Yeah,” she looked down at her lap.

“Why are you blushing? I think it’s romantic that you’re still dating our first kiss.”

Annabeth looked up “I’m not dating Percy,”

“Do you want to? You two clearly love each other. And not to brag but I’m kinda the ultimate matchmaker.”

“Everyone keeps asking me questions like that.” Annabeth huffed, “Percy and I dated for five minutes one summer and he’s still my best friend, so I do love him but I’m not in love with him.” Annabeth looked up at the sky, squinting.

With those words, Piper felt like a million pounds had been lifted off her shoulders. Knowing that Annabeth was single was one of the best feelings in the world. Piper was almost tempted to tackle Annabeth to the ground and kiss her right there.

And kiss her some more.

And drive her somewhere where they could make out. And buy her flowers and all kinds of other gifts. Anything that made it clear that Piper was attracted to Annabeth.

Instead, since Annabeth was still looking at the sky she took some rice from Annabeth's oyster pail.

This, however, caught Annabeth’s attention. “You have your own right there!” she said, gesturing towards Piper’s oyster pail.

“Yours tastes better,”

Annabeth took a bite of Piper’s rice. “And so does yours.”

“We could just trade,”

“But then the flavors would change. It’s a known law of the universe that someone else’s food always tastes better than your own.” Annabeth said before taking another bite of Piper’s rice.

They kept eating each other’s rice and talking for nearly an hour. Eventually, Annabeth abandoned Piper’s food and laid down in the grass with the sun on her face. Piper stayed in the shade and cringed at the thought of Annabeth getting a sunburn on her face. It seemed like it would hurt like hell. “Annabeth, you’re gonna get a sunburn, you’re white.”

Annabeth sat up, her face somehow already looked a little red. “You people of color are so lucky, with your melanin and whatnot,” she returned next to Piper, “But my people did steal your land, enslave, rape, and murder your people and I’m still privileged despite that so I think I’ll be okay.”

“How woke of you,” Piper said, resting her elbows on her legs, just above her knees.

“I try,” Annabeth laid back down on the grass, with all of her skin still in the shade. “Do you read poetry, Piper?”

Piper snorted, “No, I’m not a hipster or a millennial,”

This time it was Annabeth’s turn to snort, “You’re the biggest hipster I know,”

“One, I wear tacky lesbian fashion, and two, have you looked in a mirror lately?” Piper counted off her points on her fingers.

“Whatever, anyways there was this poet, Sappho, in ancient Greece, and she lived on this island called Lesbos and the citizens were called lesbians. Anyways, Sappho and all her other gay friends all loved girls so much and wrote poems about different women so much that it’s what Lesbos was known for and that’s why women solely attracted to women are called lesbians.” Annabeth said. Piper wondered how the hell Annabeth learned this.

“Man, I wish I was so gay that an entire Island was known for being gay because of me.”

“It’s pretty impressive,” Annabeth said.

“Do you know any of her poetry?” Piper asked.

“Just one but it’s really short, it may just be a fragment of one. ‘The moon appeared in her fullness when women took their place around the altar.’”

Piper thought Annabeth was a little like the moon. Pale and still mysterious no matter how close you get. But still comforting with her constant presence despite the mystery.

Piper smiled. “That’s a great poem.”

“Yeah, I have a whole book of her poetry at home,”

“Of course you do,”

“It was a coming out present from Thalia.”

Piper laughed. Annabeth smiled so her one tooth stuck out. Piper smiled when she noticed the tooth. The tooth that was undeniable proof that Piper got Annabeth to smile, and that it was a 100% real smile.

Annabeth pulled her phone from her pocket and her smile fell a bit when she unlocked it. “My parents want me to go home.”

“Then I guess we should get going,” Piper gathered up their oyster pails and fork.

“I don't want to,” Annabeth said, but she sat up anyways.

Piper found a trash can and threw out the empty oyster pails. She and Annabeth got in her car. Annabeth picked up the bag their food came in off the floor. “Oh, there’s fortune cookies,” she said.

Annabeth handed one to Piper and broke open the other. “This is so tiny, how can someone read this?”

“Here,” Piper said, holding out her hand. She read the tiny print aloud “‘If you speak honestly, everyone will listen,’”

“Oh, that’s boring,” Annabeth said, taking the paper back from Piper, “Why couldn’t it have told me I’m gonna be a millionaire?” she asked before taking a bite of the cookie.

Piper cracked open her own cookie, put the broken halves on her lap, and read the paper, “‘Pray to God, but row towards shore.’ “What the hell? That makes no sense.”

“What’s with these shitty fortune cookies?” Annabeth asked, with a mouth full of her cookie.

Piper took a bite of her own. “At least the cookies themselves aren’t bad.” Piper backed out of her parking space and Annabeth picked out some music. Annabeth’s house wasn’t far from the little park so it only took a few minutes to reach it. “You know, I’m wondering why your parents haven’t been asking you about the mysterious girl who drives you places,” Piper said as they reached Annabeth’s house.

“Well, as far as they know you’re an Uber driver,” Annabeth said, reaching back for her backpack.

“They think you just end up with the exact same Uber every day?” Piper asked, somewhat shocked.

Annabeth pulled the latch on her door. “They aren’t very observant.”

“Well, bye,” Pipe said, giving a small wave. She wanted to compliment Annabeth on something, to make her feel good and also think about Piper. She considered complimenting her hair. “Uh, bye,” Annabeth said, pushing the door open. Well, this was Piper’s chance.

“By the way, Annabeth,” Piper said. Annabeth looked over her shoulder to look at Piper. “I like your hair today,” Piper said, followed immediately by, “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant to say, um,”

Piper collected her thoughts. “Your hair looks nice today,” she thought about each word as she said it.

“Thanks,” Annabeth said. “Yours looks good too.”

Annabeth waved Piper goodbye and beelined for the front door of her house. Piper watched Annabeth, making sure that she got inside.

Usually, after Annabeth got inside Piper would immediately drive off, but that day, she just hid her face in her hands, groaned, rubbed her eyes, and then drove off, homebound.

#pipabeth #Piper McLean #annabeth chase #my writing #five weeks in detention #Leo valdez #pjo #hoo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #The Heroes of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus

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relaxedreptile · 8 years ago

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Muse

A/N: This was requested! Have mercy on little ol’ me, as this is my first scenario for Kyungsoo, a man whose personality is not drilled into my mind as well and as evidently as let’s say... Baekhyun’s is. I hope you all enjoy this, especially the lovely one of you who requested it to begin with.

Sending love.

It’s been four months since my last painting. It’s been four months since I was last paid. It’s been four months since I lost my inspiration.

Being any kind of freelancer is extremely difficult, so I am not alone at my pity party, but it is usually the freelancers and the entrepreneurs who have the most drive. Against all odds, all disapproval, here they are with a home and a source of income and a pet and maybe even a family.

Within our little crew, everyone is treated with the utmost respect. There is no competition (that isn’t healthy) and there is no criticism (that isn't constructive). Outside of it, however, is where problems seem to arise.

Being an artist leads to heaps of sticks that only have short ends to them. You have to produce your own work and find a way to sell it and turn your masterpiece into money. Landlords are hesitant when you apply for an open apartment, worried that one day your monthly payments will stop until it gets so bad you’re forced back onto the street. Not to mention the constant inner turmoil that comes with finding your own inspiration, applying that to your work, and then finding someone that has similar tastes to you that is willing to buy what you produced.

“Art cannot be forced,” You’re constantly telling yourself. So why are you sitting on the floor, paint brush in hand and a blank canvas at your feet, praying that you can think of something, anything, to paint.

“I should’ve just gone to law school like dad wanted,” you sighed out into your otherwise silent studio apartment.

Deciding that maybe some fresh air and a glance at the night sky would do you some good, you pushed your supplied aside and made your way over to the sliding door that led out onto your balcony.

At the beginning of your career, when you first moved into the city and found this adorable apartment, you used to spend all of your dawns and dusks out on this balcony painting and sketching and memorizing how the sun appeared from your balcony.

Now, the sky did as much for you as your sleazy ex-boyfriend.

Your apartment was on the eighth floor of the brick building, giving you a solid view of the bustling city-life below you. Inspiring or not, it sure was beautiful to look at.

You were used to the sight of billions of lights flooding out from windows or the many virtual advertisements littering the sides of buildings. You were used to the sound of a couple drunk teenagers singing 80’s music on their way home from a liquor-heavy celebration and the screeches of speeding car’s tires against the slippery roads.

The sound of your neighbor singing was definitely new to you.

You had never spoken to him minus a couple good mornings and excuse mes from the few times you had run into each other at the elevator, stairwell entrance, or at your own front doors. He kept to himself.

Thinking about it now, thinking about him, you realized you didn’t even know his name.

You looked over to your left (in the direction of the singer’s apartment) and allowed yourself to be slightly intrusive and listen closer.

Your mind recognized the song he was singing, it was from your uncle’s favorite movie, The Godfather.

“Speak softly, love, and hold me warm against your heart. I feel your words, the tender, trembling moments start. We’re in a world, our very own. Sharing a love that only few have every known.

Wine colored days warmed by the sun, Deep velvet nights, when we are one. Speak softly, love, so no one hears us but the sky, The vows of love we make will live until we die. My life is yours, and all because, You came into my world with love so softly, love.”

You smiled as you continued listening, your mind flashing back to all of the times your uncle used to play this song on your aunt’s piano at family gatherings.

You wondered if your neighbor had anyone special on his mind while he sang such intimate words.

The sound of footsteps invaded your ears and caused a panic within you. If you were caught doing the audible equivalent of staring, you may just hop over the railing to escape the embarrassment that would surely follow.

Your body was too late in reacting, however, and you now had a clear view of the mysterious vocalist standing no more than fifteen feet away from you. His body was too lost in singing, however, and you could now stare at this man all you wanted without him noticing.

He was Asian, but you could not tell where he was from exactly. The lyrics flowed out with a slight accent backing them, which allowed you to pinpoint him as being Southeast Asian.

Unless you were completely generalizing him. Truthfully, you doubted that. Being the artist you were, you had trained yourself to notice details and pay attention to what they told you.

The man’s skin was tinted with melanin while his eyebrows sat mostly straight along his brow-bone. He was the owner of the most luscious lips you had ever seen and you weren’t afraid to admit that you were quite jealous of them yourself. He was close enough to you so that you could see his top lip was fuller than the bottom, and his mouth had no sharp edges. Rounded and curvy, his pink lips formed the prettiest sounds along with the tongue that darted out every now and then to wet the soft area surrounding where it usually resided.

Your hands itched for a pencil, yearned for some paper. You hadn’t felt so inclined to put something down in such a long time, this feeling of such intense wanting took you by surprise.

Knowing you couldn’t let such a pure, beautiful moment go without being captured in some way, you whipped your phone out of your back pocket and took the quickest, creepiest, most regretted photo you have ever taken and darted backwards, way out of the view of your neighbor.

Your new muse.

You had been working on your sketch for three days, two nights. Relying mostly on your memory of that night, that man, rather than the photo you took. You considered deleting the photo altogether but you decided it could be a good accuracy check later on in the process.

You had finished his body, the portion you had decided to include in your work, and were now working on adding in the way his arms were bent at the elbows over the side of the railing. You were slightly discouraged that you couldn't draw the entirety of his face seeing as how you had only seen the right half and were worried that the body proportions would be entirely off if you drew a portrait of him that wasn’t a copy of what you remembered from that night.

The sketch marks of the drawing brought extra attention to the way the man’s clothes hung slightly loose on his body, showcasing his biceps that were on the leaner side rather than being beefy and overly muscular. The shadows and highlights made sure that any defined muscle was brought to the viewer’s attention, telling them that while they weren’t overly impressive, they weren’t formed purely from mindless weightlifting and training. They were crafted by whatever the singer did in his daily life. Naturally.

Your hands were having the most difficulty recreating the look on your neighbor’s face. Whenever you tried to capture the way his jaw was slightly unhinged and the wrinkles formed from the slight creasing of his forehead and eyes that were shut tightly, the imagery represented an expression filled more with pain rather than the emotion that undoubtedly came along when singing about love, whether or not you were the one in it.

You had turned off the auto shut-off on your phone so that you could keep the photo you secretly took up without you having to constantly tap the screen when it started to dim or turn it back on when the phone screen blackened entirely. It took longer than you would care to admit to figure out how to do just that, but what else is google for, right?

As your phone was the main clock in your life, you hardly noticed how late it was by the time you finished your drawing until your strained eyes squinted to read the green LEDs on the oven a few feet in front of you to check exactly how late.

A sigh escaped into the otherwise silent apartment and was followed by a groan caused by the way you were trying to stretch your stiff, tired muscles after managing to stand up from your spot on the hard kitchen floor.

Knock. Knock.

“Who’s at my door this late?”

The question was meant to be rhetorical, you didn't expect to get an actual reply from the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s Kyungsoo.” Sneeze.

You held back the “who?” that was threatening to come out of your mouth.

Cough. “Your neighbor.”

You panicked.

Had he seen you watching him, listening to him on the balcony the other night? Did he know you took the picture?

You knew the only way you would find out is if you just opened the damn door so you skipped over to the heavy hunk of wood, undid all three locks, and swung the door open.

Your neighbor—Kyungsoo— was standing on the lame doormat your sister had gifted to you as part of her housewarming present, soaking wet.

“Why are you?…” You gestured to the dripping mess before you. “You can’t hear the rain? It’s practically a zoo out there.”

Once you started to listen in, you realized that it was in fact raining and one glance at your back windows told you he wasn’t lying about the zoo. Just how long were you working on that drawing of yours?

You looked back to Kyungsoo and waited for the explanation as to why he was standing in front of you at the moment.

“I just finished up work and I must’ve left my keys back at the restaurant because I have looked everywhere and they are nowhere to be fucking found but I’m starting to go numb so I was wondering if I could…” He managed a sheepish smile, obviously feeling guilty. “Hop in the shower? Maybe get something to eat after I find a way to dry your clothes?” “No, no. You wouldn’t have to do all-” “It’s no problem, “ you smiled a genuine a smile at the beautiful man before you, “what else am I going to do while I’m up this late, anyways?”

Your hands ushered him in quickly, taking the soaking sweatshirt from his cold, wet body and hung it up on the back of one of the dining chairs in your kitchen.

You showed him where your bathroom (and shower) were and told him to leave all of his clothes on the counter so you could sneak in and retrieve them for him.

Your feet remained rooted outside the bathroom door, your body leaning against the wall, until you heard the water kick on. One minute passed by in your head until you knocked a couple times on the door, registered the lack of a reply, and slipped inside.

“Don’t look at the shower door, anything but the door.” You reminded yourself over and over as you bent down to pick up the discarded clothes off the tiled floor, gulping when you got to his underwear. You had to be careful walking around, as the floor was soaked with the rainwater Kyungsoo was cloaked in before he hopped into the hot, steamy goodness a shower could bring. You felt even worse for your neighbor now, thinking about how weighed down his body must’ve been, walking for god knows how long out in the shitty weather.

On your way out, silently praising yourself for avoiding the sight you would’ve seen if you gazed at the cloudy glass that prevented any details of the human body within the shower to be revealed, your mind became distracted by your seemingly well-deserved compliments.

Kyungsoo’s body, while partially hidden from view by the steamy door, was not completely obscured from your view when your eyes found the mirror that reflected everything you would’ve seen if you looked at the shower head-on.

Maybe you couldn’t pinpoint the crevices of his body and the outlines of his muscles like you forced yourself to do during the creation of your drawing, you could easily trace the seamless outline that was Kyungsoo with your eyes.

You started down at the heel of his foot, trailing up his left calf and thigh, rounding over the curve of his ass, then following the upright posture of his back. Your gaze looped around his neck, threaded through his messy hair, down his face (pausing at his swollen lips), skidding across his prominent pectoral muscles and flat stomach, pausing at his…

You gulped. And if it weren’t for the sound of the water beating against Kyungsoo’s chest, he probably would’ve heard it.

Your body darted out of the bathroom, borderline slamming the door shut behind you before resting your back against it. Wet clothes in hand, you closed your eyes and sighed, unable to get what you had just seen out of your mind.

Being an artist meant you had trained yourself to pay attention to the small details (although this detail was not small) and most of all, remember them. Your memory was good, too good at this point for you to just push an image out of your mind.

Who knew your hot neighbor, who was still a stranger to you, was packing?

You didn’t even try to scold yourself for the kinds of thoughts you were having about Kyungsoo and his body. Surprisingly, one of the main points your brain made was that it would be an absolute dream to draw him. All of him.

“Snap out of it, Y/N.”

With a bit of encouragement, your feet led the rest of you to the back corner of your apartment, where your makeshift laundry room was. While your father disagreed with your life choices, he would never leave you high and dry. A small sum of money was flown to you through a bank account your father alerted you of after the new address of his daughter reached his hands. After saving every penny of that money for close to a year, you put it towards home renovations. Your own bathroom, for example, and the washer/dryer duo you have to repair yourself every once in a while due to their cheap nature. Now, you’re back to saving and make sure to only use it for rent or utilities when you can’t avoid it (AKA, when you’re in a creative slump and can’t sell any artwork). So far, you haven’t needed to tap into it.

You shut the dryer door with your hip and spun around to find Kyungsoo standing right in front of you. With a towel around his waist. His hair dripping down his face. And the most awkward smile.

“I was calling you but you obviously didn’t hear me. Maybe I should’ve taken longer in the shower?” You decided that he had the cutest laugh in the world. Deep and hearty but not overpowering, you wanted to hear more of it.

“Your clothes won’t be dry for at least another twenty minutes,” you turned around to throw your own laundry in the wash, “I don’t know how many of my clothes would fit you but I can… Kyungsoo?” “Is this a picture of me?” You felt your blood run cold.

Your body refused to turn around and face your neighbor, hoping to prolong your potential ignorance to the situation for as long as possible.

“Y/N?” How did he know your name when you just found out about his barely ten minutes ago? “Yes?” Your body whipped around to face him. “Did you draw this?” His toe pointed towards the discarded picture on the floor. “I, uh, saw you singing outside one night. The image of it was stuck in my head, I had to get it out on paper,” you could feel yourself start smiling like you always did when explaining your artwork, “you looked so lost in the song. Have you ever even seen The Godfather?” The look on Kyungsoo’s face told you everything. “It’s the movie the song you were singing is from. Speak Softy Love? It’s the love theme.” “I… I just heard it on Spotify when I was browsing.” “Well, now you know.”

You felt like Kyungsoo was owed to some explanation as to why there was a pencil sketch of the neighbor you just formally met for the first time laying on your kitchen floor.

“I’m an artist,” you blurt out. “I was going through a slump when I saw you standing outside, which is where I usually go for inspiration might I add, and you were standing there in such a beautiful way and I can’t help it if I see something pretty I want to draw. I’m sorry if you think it’s weird I can burn it or rip it or throw it out if you want me to, I won't mind.” “You want to get rid of this?” Kyungsoo feigns hurt. “It’s not like you would let me sell it, right?” “Actually, I was going to ask you if I could buy it.” “You? But you can look in the mirror and it’s basically the same thing!” “Exactly. You’re incredibly talented, Y/N, and I would love to have this drawing. You’re saying you do stuff like this all the time? Being an artist, and all.” “I haven’t really made anything for a while, before the portrait.” You had moved over to stare down at the drawing along with Kyungsoo. “Next time you make anything, a sketch or a painting or whatever else your artistic mind come up with, I wanna know about it first. It’s about time I start decorating my apartment’s walls.”

His head turned on top of his neck to look down at you, his attention now on your lips while yours was trained on his on paper.

“Can I give you a down payment for the drawing? To make sure someone richer and better doesn't come around and snatch it?” You giggled before finally looking up and meeting his gaze. “You don’t need to give me any money right now.” “I don't have any money on me, as you could probably tell,” you both glanced down at his barely covered body. “Then-”

You were unable to finish your sentence before Kyungsoo placed both of his hands on the sides of your face, forcing you to keep look at him. You could hear your drawing flutter downwards and onto the ground.

“I hope this is enough to cover it.”

His lips were incredibly soft and warm against your own, causing your body to immediately arch into his and keep the kiss going. Neither of you were demanding. You and your lips took their time at drawing out gasps and mewls from the two of you, your own eyebrows furrowing as you concentrated on how good it felt to kiss your neighbor.

You had started to thread your fingers through Kyungsoo’s hair when you heard a soft thud and felt something fall at your feet.

The towel.

Kyungsoo broke the kiss and followed your gaze to reach his only source of coverage laying uselessly on the floor. While your eyes rose upwards to scan his body (and the exact part of his body you were trying to forget earlier on), his eyes rested on your face to gauge your reaction. When he realized it was a good one, he smiled and put his hands back on your face to receive the eye contact he wanted.

“Are you going to undress too or are you just going to leave me hanging?”

You left one more kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips before you started working on unbuttoning your shirt.

#do kyungsoo #do #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo angst #kyungsoo smut #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo angst #exo smut #I hope you all enjoy this #I wrote this on three different plane rides #intercontinental piece of work right here #rr:do kyungsoo

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fanfic-collection · 8 years ago

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In a Name: Ch 25

Last one until I write more... so now you all have to wait, sorry!

The people @pabegay1 @kristenscamander @hannah-caitlynn @graysonmalfoy @falltoashes @solsticestorm @bingewatchingmylifegoby @elenoranave @incadinkadoo @melanin—senpai @juuliiaa05 @sigridlaufeyson @ihaveanobsessenproblem @oneweirdfangirl

At first you tried to stay awake, wanting to be there for the prince when he returned, but you finally gave in to the much-desired need to sleep. - Loki wandered the camp, casting a charm of invisibility on himself. A number of Jotuns were said to be skilled with seidr, but he didn’t know how skilled. It wasn’t as if he was spying or eavesdropping, though it would be hard to explain to anyone who caught him what he was actually doing: even he didn’t know.

Loneliness. It was not an emotion easily explained to people, nor easily taught. Any attempts he had had to bring it up with Thor in the past always fell on deaf ears. The concept of being lonely to such an extrovert as Thor seemed foreign. Thor seemed to at least lack the words to describe it, for if he wanted something, he simply went out and worked to get it. Perhaps, the loneliness Thor felt was trying to connect with his younger brother, so keen to push others away. Yet even that seemed different from Loki’s personality. Loki climbed up one of the ice walls, the cold night air not affecting him, just as none of the other sentries standing atop the wall seemed affected. Could it be true that these monsters really were just like Asgardians, as you had said? You saw no difference between the children, perhaps such cruelty could be taught as they grew older. Loki turned his thoughts to Thul, an Asgardian who had attacked another Asgardian for personal gain. Did one’s place of birth not actually make them a monster, simply their actions? Yet Odin was very clear that frost giants were evil and not to be trusted. Perhaps Loki could be a good frost giant somehow. Auswíe seemed kind. She understood that uniting Asgard and Jotunheim in some way might bring peace to the realms, end the needless bloodshed. But then, what of the bloodshed in the past? The retaliation, the deaths of (y/n)’s family? Loki wondered what might cause the frost giants to retaliate in such a way. It surely hadn’t been the first time Asgard had done battle on Jotunheim. Though taking one of the frost giants and raising it as an actual Asgardian… Loki leaned his head against the wall. It was made of ice, so it should be cold to the touch, and though he registered the coldness, his form allowing him to note it, there was no real discomfort. Slowly he stood up, slinking his way down the wall and returning to the tent he shared with you. It was nearly morning, though the Jotuns probably wouldn’t gather until closer to midday for the next meal, especially not after the late-night feast. Loki crept into the tent, still magically concealed and looked down at you as you slept. Your eyes were shut and you slept peacefully, not a care in the world as you lay sprawled out under the furs. The young prince slowly removed the charm from himself, securing the flap with a different charm to alert him of entry, before undressing. He crawled into the bed beside you, holding you as close as he dared, not wanting to risk moving you. - You awoke to a faint tingling sensation on your leg, stiffening as you saw Loki’s hand. “My prince?” You stammered. Loki quickly pulled his hand away, “Apologies. I was trying to heal your wound some. I am nowhere near as skilled as the palace healers, but if I could offer you any relief…” He trailed off. You nodded slowly, finally laying back down and stretching your leg in such a way that he might have easier access. “Thank you.” Loki chuckled, his hand returning to the spot. Staring at the tent ceiling, you thought of what you knew of the prince. It was no secret that he had spent a great deal of company with any number of women, and you wondered briefly if he was using your injury to take advantage of you in some way. Yet at the same time, you doubted the queen would allow her son to act as such a cur. And you couldn’t deceive yourself into believing that you didn’t enjoy his touch. Sounds of someone approaching appeared from outside the tent and Loki quickly pulled away from you, covering you once more with the furs. He stood up to open the tent flap and you were greeted by the princess, holding a tray of succulent looking foods. She beamed at the two of you, setting it on a small table at the side of the room. “I brought you breakfast. Father requests that neither of you stray far from the tent.” Auswíe said. You raised your eyebrow as Loki handed you some of the food from the tray, “Of course my princess.” “Father is quite discomforted by the thought of whoever injured you, as this is his domain and it means someone was acting outside his orders.” “We lost at least six warriors in the skirmish.” You mumbled, digging into your food. Auswíe’s eyes widened, “That’s dreadful!” “Have you never seen battle?” You asked her. The princess shook her head, “No, we are out of range of any attacks from Asgard, and father has managed to remain peaceful with the other chieftains. He was close friends with King Laufey even.” Loki nodded stiffly, “King Laufey has been less,” he hesitated, searching for words, “desiring of peace in recent years.” “I wonder why. Father has always paid any dues to the king quickly and on time. Surely he hasn’t displeased King Laufey.” You glanced at Loki curiously; he seemed to know more than he was letting on. However, the prince simply shrugged. After the pair of you ate, Auswíe collected the tray and left. You decided to prompt Loki on your curiosity over the matter. The prince sighed, sitting down on the bed once more, “It is quite the sensitive matter. I’m not sure it is good to be discussed outside of a war council.” “Of course, apologies for prying.” Loki shook his head, “Never apologize for curiosity. I wish I could tell you more about Asgard’s political workings, but we’re not in the best place to be sharing such secrets.” You chuckled, “That is too true. Forget I asked, I’m simply acting on behalf of the queen anyways, I’m certainly not her.” Loki sighed ruefully, “Indeed you’re not. Though that is nothing to be ashamed of.” The day passed slowly. Loki looked stir crazy by the end of it, no books to read, no scrolls to study, and very much confined to this small tent; he felt like a prisoner. For your part, it did you well to spend the day resting, even if you were bored. You allowed yourself to catch up on sleep. All meals were brought to your tent, the princess occasionally checking in on you both to see how you were doing and to strike up any conversation she might manage. - Finally, night came. You and Loki lay in bed together, you tentatively reaching to rest your head on his chest as Loki gently stroked any bare skin that he could reach, just feeling you in his arms. “This is the last night before Thor arrives.” Loki muttered, his fingers marking patterns on your skin. You nodded on his chest, glancing up into his green eyes. Loki sighed heavily, “And things will return…” He trailed off. You swallowed thickly, the growing closeness between the both of you was certainly not unwelcomed. Yet after this day, you would return to your duties as an Einharjar, and Loki would continue to be a prince. In fact, as soon as Prince Thor arrived, you would probably be sent to an entirely different tent, to not see Loki again in private until you returned to the palace. Even then, did you want to see him in private? To want something so bad that you could not have? “One last night.” You whispered finally. Loki smiled, “One last night.” - Late in the morning, you and Loki awoke, it was nearly midday now. Loki’s frequent healing magic was helping the pain in your leg and you realized you would probably be able to walk around a short distance without being in too much pain. Just as you were voicing this aloud, a great booming gong began to fill the air, echoing even in the well-insulated walls of your tent. You and Loki dressed as quickly as you could, hurrying out of the tent to see what the commotion was about. For the first time since arriving, you could finally tell where the entry to the camp was, and saw a massive set of gates slowly opening to accept a small group. It was far away and you had to strain your eyes, but the presence of a caravan laden with gifts and supplies took any doubts as to who had arrived. “Prince Loki, your brother and the caravan have arrived!” You cried out happily, silently grateful that nothing had delayed them an extra day. “Good.” Loki kept himself calm, but you could see the relief flooding his face. “Let’s go greet them.” As Loki spoke and began to move towards the gates, Auswíe appeared. “Prince Thor is here!” She announced. Loki stopped, “Might we see them?” “Of course! I get to meet more of the Aesir, do you all look so different?” She asked smiling as she took off quickly towards them. You laughed, trying to keep up with her pace, “You’ve no idea.” Chieftain Bjorn was already speaking to Thor, a number of frost giants removing the supplies from the caravan while the remaining Asgardians watched them distrustfully. “Brother!” Loki cried out, finally sprinting the last distance as you hobbled to keep up. Thor spun around at Loki’s voice, his eyes lighting up and a heaviness vanishing from the air around him. “Loki! Brother!” Thor gripped his younger brother as tightly as he could. “I’m so sorry for what happened, I wanted to come after you, truly, but I,” Loki held up his hand, “I’m glad you didn’t. The mission was more important, and if we had both arrived here emptyhanded, we would’ve been far worse off.” Thor beamed. Sif smiled between the two brothers, slowly hanging her head. You caught the faintest glimpse of tears in her eyes before her thick hair covered her face. “Cousin!” You cried out, finally arriving, “Sif!” Sif’s head snapped up, mouth dropping open as she recognized you. “(Y/n)?” She called back in disbelief. “You’re alive?” She sprinted over to you, tackle hugging you, before lifting you in the air and spinning you around. “I am never leaving you again, cousin. I don’t care what anyone says. You will stay and fight by my side, no matter what.” You smiled weakly, finally prying yourself from her arms, gesturing to the thick bandages still on your leg. “Thank you, I appreciate that truly.” “I will use all my influence within the palace to make sure you have a place among the Warrior’s Three. I care not what anyone might say against it. I have lost you twice now, it won’t happen a third time.” She vowed fiercely. Again, you laughed, “Thanks Sif.” Princess Auswíe watched the exchange in fascination. “Emissary, who is this?” She finally asked when you had pulled away from Sif. “This is my cousin, Lady Sif, close companion to the princes of Asgard and the Warrior’s Three.” You replied, “my lady, and Sif, this is Auswíe, daughter of Chieftain Bjorn.” Sif bowed low, “An honor to meet you, princess.” Auswíe beamed at the two of you, “And you two are related? I’m glad for your reunion then.” “Daughter!” Chieftain Bjorn’s loud voice echoed over all the other people gathered to chatter. “They bring you sweets from faraway lands, your favorites that we do not get here.” Auswíe ran over to her father, eagerly accepting the gift Bjorn had promised. “Interesting creature.” Sif muttered to you, watching the frost giant princess run off. “Auswíe is nice.” You answered quietly, “She’s been quite hospitable.” “I’m glad to hear it. What happened after you fell?” You explained that Loki managed to pull you from the rapids, ultimately saving your life. Skipping over any intimate details, you instead said the fire was enough, and avoided mentioning that you had been sleeping beside him since arriving here in the frost giant village. Sif seemed to sense that you had skipped certain details but didn’t press you on the subject. “So, Loki managed to save you then?” You nodded before bitterly admitting, “I failed as a guard, a prince shouldn’t have to stoop to such a level.” Sif nodded thoughtfully, “I doubt he would have done anything like that for anyone but his brother.” You tried to hide your blush, instead turning your face to look at Loki and Thor speaking quietly with Chieftain Bjorn. “Must’ve been an accident then.” You mumbled. Shaking her head, Sif replied, “That was no mistake.” After a moment, she sighed heavily, “that’s going to make Thor’s news all the more distasteful to everyone then.” “News?” “Come Aesir! Asgard has held true to her promise, and we are blessed with many gifts! Let us feast and make merry with our new friends and allies!” Bjorn’s voice boomed across the small assembly. “What news?” You tried to ask Sif, but she had been pushed away by the throng of Asgardians. You struggled to reach her, to ask her what she meant, but you lost sight of her in the crowd. Eventually you found yourselves gathered once more in the main chieftain’s tent. “Emissary!” Princess Auswíe appeared at your side, “Father requests that you sit at the main table with him and the two princes. As the queen’s emissary, he said it was important for you to hear the news.” “News? My lady?” You asked. Auswíe shrugged, “I don’t know, but he says it’s a secret and a surprise!” She beamed at you, grabbing your arm and dragging you over to the table. “Queen Frigga’s emissary!” Bjorn greeted you with a smile. Prince Thor beamed, standing to hug you, “I’m glad you brought my brother back to us safely. We are forever indebted to you, my lady.” You smiled weakly, not sure what distasteful news Sif had mentioned. “Of course, but it was,” Loki cut you off, “Your strength that pulled us through. Without the emissary, I surely would have been dead.” You felt uneasy at the lie, but trusting the god of lies to know what he was doing, you stayed silent. When you saw the queen, you would tell her the truth instantly, but for now, among just borderline peaceful frost giants, you would follow their story. “Now then!” The chieftain slammed his fist on the table, setting the plates rattling. “I have been speaking with Thor, and I graciously appreciate this opportunity, and in your decision, I call upon you to remember the hospitality we have shown both you, and the queen’s emissary. Only our finest healers could have prevented the emissary from losing her leg, and that is something that should mean a great deal.” Loki nodded slowly, eyes dark. Prince Thor beamed at the chieftain. You looked uncertainly between the three men, “Apologies, but what opportunity?” “The queen’s own emissary doesn’t know?” Bjorn looked baffled between you and Thor. Thor laughed, “This is the king’s doing, chieftain. He thought it would be best for the queen to find out later, and who better than from her emissary?” Bjorn chuckled, “Best of luck to him attempting that. When my dear one lived, I wouldn’t dare try and pull something past her like that.” You swallowed hard, growing more confused by the second. This time, you weren’t sure you should interrupt again, instead hoping they would say something soon. You tried to make eye contact with Loki but he seemed to be stoically staring at the ground, ignoring everyone. “Auswíe, come here my girl!” Bjorn called the princess over. She arrived quickly, beaming at her father. “You should hear the news too!” “What news is that, father?” She answered obediently. “You get to go to a ball, for Aesir of all things!” “A ball?” Auswíe looked confused. “You’re going to get all dressed up and pretty, a giant feast inside the palace of Asgard.” Auswíe’s mouth dropped open, “I’m going to see Asgard?” “Go on, you tell her!” Bjorn patted Thor’s shoulder. Thor grinned, “Odin Allfather, intends to host a ball six months from now. In nine months’ time, there will be a royal wedding!” Your heart leapt to your throat, horror gripping your stomach as you looked at Loki’s sullen appearance. “I don’t understand.” Auswíe began slowly, voicing your own thoughts aloud. Thor chuckled, “The king of Asgard is going to summon princesses from across the realms to Asgard for a ball, at the end of it, my brother here will choose his wife, uniting Asgard with the realm of his choice!” Loki looked up at you as Thor spoke the words, a heavy sadness darkening his eyes. Your mouth went dry as you looked at him, the whole room seeming to quiet by the ringing in your ears. Auswíe squealed beside you in excitement, clapping her hands. Very slowly, almost as if in slow motion, you stumbled to your chair, sitting down, as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. In nine months, the one man you loved, would be married to another, and if by some miracle he didn’t, the peace of the realms might hang in balance. And though the feasting and celebration continued along around you, all you could do was cover your mouth, trying to stay in control as you watched your world slowly shatter around you.

#loki x reader #multi chapter

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reeltoreal-cl · 7 years ago

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Black Girl Magic: A Rise in Fantasy Representation on Screen

"Black Girl Magic” is a phrase coined in 2013 by blogger CaShawn Thompson, in “celebration of the beauty, intelligence and power of Black women everywhere.” It has since become a rallying cry for black women of different backgrounds to celebrate their accomplishments and moments together in sisterhood. But unlike the phrase and recent movement behind it, “Black Girl Magic” in the literal sense has rarely been showcased at the forefront of film and television. There are many film franchises and shows built on fantasy or supernatural stories, but these largely feature white casts and protagonists. Since the 1990s, however, more black women with magical abilities have moved to center stage.

Rochelle Zimmerman - The Craft, 1996

An outcast at her Los Angeles school because of her skin color, Rochelle befriends girls on the fringe who form a coven to regain power over their teenage lives. Rochelle is not only one of the witches in the main cast, but a skilled swimmer whose goal is to make the high school team. When this is hindered by a racist school bully, Rochelle aptly casts a spell to make the girl’s hair fall out. In addition to this, she has the power of telekinesis, levitation, and glamouring. Though left without power at the end of this cautionary tale, Rochelle is a rare portrayal of black women unapologetically using their power towards their own goals.

“I drink of my sisters and I ask for the ability to not hate those who hate me. Especially racist pieces of bleach-blonde shit like Laura Lizzie.” - Rochelle

Eve Batiste, Mozelle Batiste Delacroix, Elzora - Eve’s Bayou, 1997

This trio took African-American cinema to new heights in its portrayal of black women with clairvoyance and voodoo. Eve, the youngest, finds her dreams to be visions of tragedy to come. Her gift of sight mirrors her aunt Mozelle’s, a woman who not only has visions, but reads people’s lives by holding their hands. Mozelle also sparingly uses voodoo to help customers if they’re desperate enough. Eve and Mozelle encounter Elzora, an elderly woman who tells fortunes at the market and proves to be quite twisted. The three are brought together in a tragic coming-of-age tale in which Eve takes on her troubled family one summer in a Louisiana bayou.

“Like others before me, I have the gift of sight. But the truth changes color, depending on the light. And tomorrow can be clearer than yesterday. Memory is the selection of images, some elusive, others printed indelibly on the brain. Each image is like a thread, each thread woven together to make a tapestry of intricate texture. And the tapestry tells a story, and the story is our past.” - Eve

Raven Baxter - That’s So Raven, 2003 - 2007

Dealing with friendships, boys, and dreams of becoming a fashion designer, a huge part of Raven’s life are her psychic visions of the future. She’s very insecure about being seen as a freak if anyone finds out, but also has unique experiences and life lessons during her adolescence in San Francisco because of her gift. Raven afforded many children and teens a lighthearted, relatable portrayal of Black Girl Magic in comedy. She returns as the star of spinoff and sequel series Raven’s Home, which aired in July 2017 and is set in Chicago.

“Oh, snap!” “Ya nasty!” “I’m okay!” - Raven

Alex and Cam - Twitches, 2005, & Twitches Too, 2007

Cam and Alex discover their powers and one another on their 21st birthday, and soon find out that they belong to a world of witches and warlocks called Coventry that they were taken from at birth for their own safety. They must save the day in both films, using their combined powers that coincide with the sun and moon. This portrayal of witches is on the spectrum between previously-mentioned Raven Baxter, an original TV character, and the upcoming Bonnie Bennett, another book character that undergoes a race lift for the TV adaptation.

Bonnie Bennett and The Bennett Family - The Vampire Diaries, 2009 - 2017

Bonnie discovers her penchant for witchcraft as a teenager when her best friend gets involved with vampires. She goes on a journey of honing her powers, learning from her grandmother Sheila that they hail from a long line of matriarchal witches. They are descendants of Emily Bennett, who was a powerful witch in Mystic Falls, VA in the 19th century, as well as one of the most powerful witches of all time, Qetsiyah. Bonnie experiments with both dark and natural magic, eventually developing the powers of divination, healing, necromancy, and psychokinesis (aero, bio, pyro, and tele). Through Bonnie’s storyline, audiences have an example of Black Girl Magic through several generations of powerful women in the same family.

“Witchcraft has its limits. If I push too hard, it pushes back.” - Bonnie

Queenie and Marie Laveau - American Horror Story: Coven, 2013 - 2014

Queenie, a new student at Miss Robichaux’s Academy in New Orleans, is descended from Tituba of the Salem Witch Trials, and calls herself a “human voodoo doll,” able to transfer self-inflicted wounds and pain to others. She later performs telekinesis, teleportation, mind control, and astral projection. For a time, Queenie joins the fold of Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau, based on the real-life, renowned figure. Marie survives to modern times because of an immortality deal with Papa Legba, in which she must sacrifice an innocent once a year. In addition to her voodoo mastery, Marie demonstrates telekinesis, teleportation, necromancy, and a war cry that causes people to turn on one another. Both Queenie and Marie take on an immortal racist and other threats in the war between hunters, voodoo practitioners, and witches in this campy, dark story.

“I grew up on white girl shit, like Charmed and Sabrina The Teenage Cracker.” - Queenie

Abbie & Jenny Mills - Sleepy Hollow, 2013 - 2017

Abbie, who has prophetic dreams, learns that she is one of Two Witnesses in the Book of Revelation meant to prevent the apocalypse with Ichabod Crane. A Lieutenant originally headed to the FBI, she remains in Sleepy Hollow, NY to rise to the cause. She can also see spirits, have visions of the past, and assist with casting spells. Her sister Jenny is drawn into the fight, having seen the demon Moloch when they were children, as a supernatural relic hunter. This is one of the rare portrayals of black women, fantasy, and the Bible coming together.

“Here's what we can do: no more first-hand accounts of witches or founding fathers. Or donut tax outrage unless you want to be sent back to the asylum.” - Abbie

These portrayals of Black Girl Magic, which feature characters who have storylines independent of their white counterparts, are markedly different from “The Magical Negro” stereotype in cinema. The Magical Negro was first seen with The Song of the South (1946), but mostly lends itself to male characters. The handful of black women who fall into this category are Oda Mae Brown in Ghost (1990); Mother Abagail in adapted miniseries The Stand (1994); Jezelle Gay Hartman in Jeepers Creepers (2001); Missouri Moseley on a single episode (2005) of Supernatural; and Evelyn in Annabelle (2014). These characters have no purpose in the story beyond helping white ones, even going so far as to sacrifice themselves in some instances.

Black Girl Magic speaks to a beauty and power that black women have on their own, as evidenced by stronger characters in TV and film recently. Fortunately, the road doesn’t end here. Coming to television soon are actresses Sibongile Mlambo in the role of a mermaid on the Freeform show Siren, and Clark Backo in the role of a psychic and descendent of Supernatural’s Missouri Moseley on Wayward Sisters at The CW. On the big screen, expect to see Oprah Winfrey in the role of Mrs. Which for Ava DuVernay’s A Wrinkle in Time in 2018.

As black women continue to see the magic within themselves, they can now see even more of it represented on screen.

*This piece was published August 9th to Shades of Melanin, Inc.

**Update: On September 7th, Twitches was added to this Tumblr post.

#blackgirlmagic #fantasy #witches #magic #film #television #blackgirls #blackwomen

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joyinpractice · 6 years ago

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#TBT FIRST PA PROGRAM INTERVIEW

Originally Published March 31, 2016

Finishing my last interview got me thinking about my FIRST interview, which was in Arizona! I flew across the country last September and had a great weekend trip.

THE TRIP

I chose to stay at the Phoenix Hostel to save on costs and I loved it. It was in a central location, which meant that I could get some hikes and Phoenix exploring in (because if you've ever backpacked, you know that hostel folks are always down for a good time), eat some bomb food, and see friends from college!

Early flight got me in before check-in and I was able to relax in their communal living room. In no time, I got set up and since it would be an early morning the next day, I made sure to hang my suit up right away. As there were dust storms sweeping through the area, I tried my best to stay indoors to avoid eating sand!

I headed to a local restaurant for food and planned out my responses to the most common PA interview questions. Afterwards, I went to the supermarket for vegetables and stayed forever because sand was literally blowing into the store from the outside. But when the skies are clear, man, Phoenix has great skies.

[Sunrise and sunset in Arizona: A lavender sky with clouds with a hill in the foreground.]

Tucked in early but morning came quickly. It was barely light out at 5AM (lucky for me 8AM NYC time), and I quietly danced around the kitchen making myself a omelette burrito for breakfast. Another person is also quietly moving and comes out dressed in a suit as I'm still in my pajamas. Was he interviewing, too? Turns out - yes! So we coordinate a carpool, I get all fancy in my suit, and we're off to the school!

THE PROGRAM

The PA program was well established within the school and had great academic and financial resources for their students. In terms of tuition costs, it was above average compared to other PA programs so more money = more resources. I'd give the cost of attendance a 5/10.

The program also had a strong clinical reputation, great simulation labs, a challenging and diverse patient pool, and was near both a large number of teaching hospitals and national parks (great for de-stressing, escapes, and exercise). And the program took PA pedagogy seriously! Less lectures, more hands on scenarios and group work = so down. Pedagogy and resources alone, I gave the school a 9/10.

On the flip side, the program faculty and students didn't do so well when faced with questions about diversity within the program, percent indigenous students in the cohort (cause Arizona), percent Latinx students in the cohort (again, Arizona), support for LGBTQ students, and how they accomplished their goal to serve the underserved. In this aspect, I gave the school a 3/10.

For example, when asked about diversity in the program, a didactic year student responded that she "didn't see color" and thus could not answer the question. I later saw a picture of her cohort and clearly, very little melanin in the group. Her answer was so painfully politically correct...

A great initiative the school could potentially take on to both boost their own reputation, attract federal funds, and serve marginalized populations in the local communities who need better access to health care include:

A pipeline for Native and Latino students to become introduced to the PA profession, gain professional experience, complete the academic prerequisites, gain entrance to the program (SUCH A STRONG PROGRAM!), and serve as providers to the communities they come from in Arizona/the Southwest region.

These were some thoughts I had during the interview and still stand behind right now. In the October 2015 edition of JAAPA, LeLacheur, Barnett, and Straker's article on "Race, Ethnicity, and the Physician Assistant Profession" provides key recommendations to improve the racial and ethnic diversity of the PA program (Table 7). Many fall along the lines of the recommendation I made above so not falling far from the tree.

POST-INTERVIEW ADVENTURES

The day goes by and the interview is over. New friend and I drive back to the hostel for more adventures! We collect a few other hostel folks that I met the night before and we hit Piestewa Peak, which is the second highest point in the Phoenix Mountains. The climb is straightforward - you literally cannot get lost - and people of all ages and sizes were moving up and down quickly. Definitely a local favorite.

We made it to the top and back down in time for sunset :) The sun setting over Phoenix, the lavender sky and massive clouds, the silhoutte of the Phoenix Mountains and cacti - such a great ending to an intense and rewarding day! I thought I wouldn't make it up to the top because walking around in heels all morning = a horrible warm for an afternoon hike. But I made it and that's all that mattered!

On the hike up and down, I was able to learn from my new PA friend about why he wanted to become a PA and it was really inspiring to hear what brought him to the field. Hearing people's stories is such a great gift in and of itself. The next day, my flight left in the evening so I was able to fit in a mini-hike with a college friend who was living in a neighboring city and got to catch up over some delicious tacos!

I fully believe in making the most of every experience and this post was super fun to write as I think back to my first interview. If you find yourself flying to interview at a PA school, I hope you get to fit some adventures into your schedule!

#pablr #medblr #medicine #interview

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takenews-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Electrifying! Child Follows Three Generations Of White Hair Streaks

New Post has been published on https://takenews.net/electrifying-child-follows-three-generations-of-white-hair-streaks/

Electrifying! Child Follows Three Generations Of White Hair Streaks

With surprising hair paying homage to X-Males’s Rogue, this child was born with a generational hair streak. Child MilliAnna was born in South Carolina with one tremendous superb characteristic.

MilliAnna has a streak of white hair proper in the midst of her in any other case raven mane. This attention-grabbing incidence is named poliosis. Poliosis, or poliosis circumscripta, is the lower or absence of melanin in hair together with, head hair, eyebrow hair, eyelashes, or another space with hair. Whereas some suppose that poliosis is only a birthmark, it’s really decreased or absent melanin within the hair bulbs of hair follicles, whereas the melanocytes of the pores and skin should not affected. This situation will also be current with numerous genetic syndromes and situations, like vitiligo for example. Poliosis usually causes a singular patch of white hair like seen on MilliAnna, or much less generally, a number of white patches on the hair.

This uncommon birthmark didn’t take anybody in her circle of relatives without warning, nevertheless. The superb characteristic has really been handed all the way down to her in her household. Over three generations on her maternal aspect have displayed this superb hair. It may be traced not less than to MilliAnna’s great-grandmother Jaonne who possessed the characteristic. Jaonne handed it on to MilliAnna’s grandmother Jennifer, who then gave the trait to her daughter, and MilliAnna’s mothe,r Brianna.

Brianna, MilliAnna’s mom, was glad to search out that her daughter was gifted the particular household trait. She mentioned, “We’re uncertain how far again the birthmark goes as my grandmother was adopted as a baby and hasn’t met her organic household. I hoped she did have it. My youthful sister that my mom had a number of years after me didn’t get it, so I didn’t know if MilliAnna was going to, however as soon as I had her and so they laid her on my chest and I noticed she had it I used to be so glad.”

She says that it is extremely frequent to be stopped by strangers who wish to ask or remark in regards to the household situation. “We positively get stopped loads whereas out and about on our day by day routines. Nearly all of the time I welcome the well mannered feedback and don’t thoughts answering the various questions, however truthfully, it may be overwhelming at instances. Once I’m in a rush and simply making an attempt to do what I want and maintain going.”

She additionally mentioned that whereas in class, some kids took to bullying her due to her distinctive appears, however she already is aware of how she’s going to put together her daughter, she mentioned, “In elementary faculty, youngsters are somewhat harsher, however while you develop up, it turns into cool. I’m going to inform her, ‘You’re distinctive, you’re fairly, you’re stunning.’”

Brianna actually seems like she’s ready to cope with any points or feedback that come up with this distinctive situation. How superb is that this particular trait and who would wish to make enjoyable of such a cool look? Perhaps she will be able to additionally share together with her daughter that her hair is rather like the superb superhero from X-Males, Rogue!

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timothyeller · 7 years ago

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FreeMart Siaga

FreeMart Siaga™

Hundreds of years of historical use of the three herbs found in FreeMart Siaga, together with modern science telling us what many of the individual compounds found in Siaga do in the human body, provides us with innumerable ways to potentially benefit from ingesting FreeMart Siaga. We make absolutely no claims that a combination of these three herbs together will work in the same manner as their individual counterparts. I personally believe that they will based upon over 40 years as a Health Researcher, but you be the judge as whether Siaga may benefit you personally.

The purpose of this information is to report some of the known benefits of individual nutrients and compounds normally found in Chaga Mushroom, Black Cumin Seed and Licorice Root. This information should not be used as medical advice. The reader is left to his or her own conclusions as to how and when to use FreeMart Siaga.

FreeMart Siaga™ is a proprietary 3-stage extract of three very important herbs. We use a new Quantum Extraction Technology (QET™), which preserves all of natural benefits of the Chaga Mushroom, Black Cumin Seed and Licorice Root.

The following information is a compilation of both historical and scientific uses for these three herbs. If you have any question as to the benefit of any nutrient or compound listed, don’t take my word for it. Simply Google the name to find out what science has to say about it.

Chaga King of Herbs

Chaga is one of God’s greatest gifts to your health. Its nickname “Mushroom of Immortality” appears to be more than just a clever slogan.

Chaga is so powerful that world famous Russian author Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn dedicated an entire book to this wonderful herb. Chaga has also been declared an anti-Cancer agent by the U.S. Government’s Library of medicine (Pub Med). The Chaga mushroom found in FreeMart Siaga is wild crafted and harvested from a pristine northern forest in the United States. Like many good things, is extremely rare, impossible to reproduce artificially, and can take up to 30 years to grow in the wilderness.

Chaga’s scientific name is Inonotus Obliquus. It is a non-toxic mushroom that has many medicinal qualities. It is one of the most powerful food antioxidants in the world and it has the highest level of superoxide dismutase (SOD) that has been detected in any food or herb.

Some of the active components in Chaga are a combination of Amino Acids, Beta-glucans, Betulinic Acid, Calcium, Chloride, Copper, Dietary Fiber, Enzymes, Flavonoids, Germanium, Inotodiols, Iron, Lanosterol, Manganese, Magnesium, Melanin, Pantothenic Acid, Phenols, Phosphorus, Phytonutrients, Polysaccharides, Potassium, Saponins, Selenium, Sodium, Sterols, Trametenolic Acid, Tripeptides, Triterpenes, Triterpenoids, Vanillic Acid, Vitamin B1 (Thiamine), Vitamin B2 (Riboflavin), Vitamin B3 (Niacin), Vitamin D2 (Ergosterol), Vitamin K and Zinc.

Chaga is rich in natural antioxidant and anti-inflammatory phenols, containing the compounds betulin and betulinic acid – which are derived directly from host North American birch trees. Both betulin and betulinic acid demonstrate anti-tumor effects, which explains why Chaga is known as an anti-cancer agent. Additionally, some science shows that betulin can play a beneficial role in controlling metabolic disorders, such as obesity and metabolic syndrome. A group of compounds in Chaga called lanostanoids also appear to play significant anti-cancer roles.

The exact anti-cancer activity of Chaga is not completely understood, but some compounds in the fungus boost immune activity, some specifically prevent cancer cells from replicating, and others cause premature cancer cell death. Many of the agents in Chaga appear to be active against cancer. This argues for the utilization of a whole Chaga extract, rather than isolating a single compound.

One of the most surprising benefits of Chaga is in regards to psoriasis. In one Russian study, psoriasis patients who took Chaga recovered from their condition. Given that psoriasis is notoriously difficult to treat and responds to very few therapies, this effect alone could be of enormous benefit to many.

The compound ergosterol in Chaga, along with related agents, shows anti-inflammatory activity. This may account for why Chaga is thought of as a life-extending agent in China, as inflammation is part of every chronic, degenerative disease. Reducing systemic inflammation can mitigate or help prevent a variety of health problems, leading to a healthier life – and presumably a longer one.

Traditionally, Chaga has been used for a variety of purposes. Scientific investigation of Chaga’s use as an anti-allergy agent in animals, shows that the fungus has the ability to prevent anaphylactic shock – a serious and potentially fatal consequence of a severe allergy. In another study, administration of an extract of Chaga reduced infection due to the Herpes simplex virus.

In a cell study, Chaga showed potent activity against the hepatitis C virus. Whether this same activity will prove true in living humans remains to be seen, but if it does, then Chaga will benefit thousands of people who often suffer for many years with this crippling disease.

In North America, Chaga was an ancient Native American Medicine that was considered by Medicine Men to be their most powerful weapon in the fight against illness and disease. This is due to the fact that Wild Chaga is one of the most concentrated sources of 3-beta-D-glucans which make up a large part of the cellular structure of this herb. Beta-glucans cause a pan-systemic modulation of T-Cells, Macrophages and Neutrophil White Blood Cells when ingested. The number of T-Cells has been shown to increase in number and viability by as much as 4000% within 20 hours after taking Chaga!

Macrophages and Neutrophils are the two cells upon which all other Immune Cells depend. You can have many viable B-Cells and T-Cells, but they will not be effective without the programming provided by the “Communicator” cells that assist in activating the healing stem cells found in your body. Chaga also contains bitter triterpene compounds that support the thymus and spleen. It also contains anti-tumor polysaccharides, and blood pressure-reducing angiotensin re-uptake inhibitors.

Chaga is a Rich Source of Germanium

Siaga is one of the richest sources of natural germanium. Germanium is a powerful healer as well as pain reliever. One of the reasons is due to the fact that the millions of germanium atoms produce negatively charged ions that have the effect of neutralizing the poisonous positively charged ions that are associated with pain and inflammation. Thus, having Germanium in your body could help to protect you from mobile phones, computers, electronic and electrical equipment, chemicals, acid rain and ultraviolet rays.

This process is also known as the dehydrogenation effect where oxygen atoms combine with hydrogen ions which have accumulated in the body to remove them. This also achieves muscle relieving effects as well as reducing fatigue and tiredness.

Chaga Mushroom is noted for its ability to:

Halt the growth of cancer tumors

Lower high cholesterol

Separate “sticky blood” cells

Boost the oxygenation of blood.

Ease inflammation and sooth arthritis pain

Protect the body from oxidative stress

Prevent kidney stones and protect the body from oxalates in coffee and tea

Alkalize the body, helping to balance overly acidic dietary habits

Heal ulcers, IBS, Crohn’s disease and other digestive disorders

Reduce high blood pressure

Nourish the body with minerals, vitamins, enzymes and glyconutrients

Accelerate healing from physical burns and radiation burns

Replace dozens of first aid products, including antibacterial sprays

Halt colon cancer, heal the intestines and lubricate the digestive tract

Relieve constipation

Stabilize blood sugar and reduce triglycerides in diabetics

Prevent and treat candida infections

Protect the kidneys from disease

Improve electrolyte balance

Boost cardiovascular performance and physical endurance

Speed recovery from injury or physical exertion

Black Cumin Seed

Black seed has been used to make medicines for over 2000 years. It was even discovered in the tomb of King Tut and the prophet Muhammad claimed that it “cures everything but death.”

Historically, black seed has been used for headache, toothache, nasal congestion, and intestinal worms. It has also been used for pink eye, infections, and abscesses, digestive tract conditions including gas, colic, diarrhea, dysentery, constipation, and hemorrhoids. It has also been used for respiratory conditions including asthma, allergies, cough, bronchitis, emphysema, flu, swine flu, and congestion.

Other uses include lowering blood pressure, lowering cholesterol levels, treating cancer, and boosting the immune system.

Women have used black seed to start menstruation, and to increase milk flow.

Black seed is sometimes used in combination with cysteine, vitamin E, and saffron to ease the side effects of a cisplatin, a drug used in chemotherapy.

Some people apply black seed directly to the skin for joint pain (rheumatism), headache, and certain skin conditions.

In foods, black seed is used as a flavoring or spice.

How Does it Work?

There is some scientific evidence to suggest that black seed might help boost the immune system, fight cancer and lessen allergic reactions by acting as an antihistamine, but there isn’t enough information in humans yet.

There is impressive scientific research demonstrating that the Black Cumin found in Siaga has some very beneficial, anti-bacterial and anti-viral properties, making it a traditional remedy for colds and viral infections. It’s effectiveness may be due to its ability to strengthen the immune system so that one can better resist infections.

Black Cumin contains linoleic acid and gamma linolenic acid which are both essential for a healthy immune system.

One of the most important components in Black Cumin is the volatile oil Nigellone which acts as an antihistamine and is known to be effective for bronchial asthma and respiratory allergies. It has the ability to expand and relax the airways, reduces the release of histamines into the bloodstream and works against allergic reactions. Long-term supplementation with Black Cumin has been shown to reduce allergic symptoms up to 90%. Saponin and nigellin in Black Cumin give it its appetite-enhancing, digestion-stimulating and pain relieving qualities.

Research on Black Cumin has focused on its positive effects on the immune system. Scientists know that Black Cumin stimulates bone marrow and immune cells, raises the interferon production, protects the body against viruses, destroys tumor cells and inhibits infection.

Research also revealed that Black Cumin possesses antibiotic properties that act against a wide spectrum of gram-positive and gram-negative bacteria. In side-by-side tests Black Cumin matched or exceeded the effectiveness of ampicillin in defeating gram-positive bacteria.

Laboratory tests also indicate that Black Cumin may hold promise in fighting cancer cells. The study shows that Black Cumin is superior to other medicines in many regards. It proved to be more effective than chemotherapy and radiation treatments in laboratory animals without serious side effects.

The Cancer Immuno-Biology Laboratory of South Carolina ran a series of experiments in which mice were infected with tumor cells. Two thirds of the animals treated with Black Cumin oil were still alive thirty days after being infected. In contrast, all the mice that did not receive Black Cumin treatment died within the same time period.

Licorice Root (Glycyrrhiza Glabra)

An adaptogenic herb, licorice root can be found growing in Europe, the Mediterranean and Asia, and it’s been used for thousands of years and dozens of purposes, including as a leaky gut remedy.

In Chinese medicine, licorice root has been used for centuries as an anti-inflammatory herb for many of the same uses that science has now confirmed, which are coughs, colds, gastrointestinal issues and female reproductive issues.

One interesting note about the way licorice has been used in Chinese medicine is that it was used as a “guide herb.” Licorice root was used in tandem with other herbs and remedies to enhance their effects and essentially guide the other herbs to where they would be most beneficial. In 2013, this use was observed and reviewed by the Tianjin University of Traditional Chinese Medicine. This ancient purpose, along with other licorice root benefits, no doubt contributed to licorice root being the most used herb in Chinese medicine!

Licorice root has many wonderful health benefits. It contains many anti-depressant compounds and is an excellent alternative to St. John’s Wort. Licorice root is perhaps one of the most over-looked of all herbal wonders.

Licorice root is so complex that researchers have isolated 170 different compounds in Chinese licorice. Obviously, we don’t have time to discuss them all, and researchers learn more about compounds in herbs every day. But there are at least four main types of compounds found in licorice root: flavonoids, coumarins, triterpenoids and stilbenoids.

A prominent example of the benefits found in these compounds is the flavonoid glabradin, which contributes to numerous licorice root benefits. First described in the 1970s, researchers have since discovered many of its effects. It’s observed to be anti-inflammatory, have an effect on metabolism and function as a phytoestrogen — having a very positive effect on women’s health.

Hundreds of potentially healing substances have been identified in licorice, including compounds called flavonoids and various plant estrogens (phytoestrogens). The herb’s key therapeutic compound, glycyrrhizin (which is 50 times sweeter than sugar) exerts numerous beneficial effects on the body, making licorice a valuable herb for treating a host of ailments. It seems to prevent the breakdown of adrenal hormones such as cortisol (the body’s primary stress-fighting adrenal hormone), making these hormones more available to the body.

Licorice has a well-documented reputation for healing ulcers. It can lower stomach acid levels, relieve heartburn and indigestion and acts as a mild laxative.

Licorice can also be used for irritation, inflammation and spasm in the digestive tract. Through its beneficial action on the liver, it increases bile flow and lowers cholesterol levels. In recent research licorice has also been hailed for its potential to fight tooth decay.

Immune Support

Licorice also appears to enhance immunity by boosting levels of interferon, a key immune system chemical that fights off attacking viruses. It also contains powerful antioxidants as well as certain phytoestrogens that can perform some of the functions of the body’s natural estrogens; very helpful during the menopause. Glycyrrhizinic acid also seems to stop the growth of many bacteria and of viruses such as influenza A.

Effect on Pain and Stress

Licorice has an aspirin-like properties that may be helpful in relieving fevers and soothing pain such as headaches. Its anti-allergenic effect is very useful for hay fever, allergic rhinitis, conjunctivitis and bronchial asthma. Possibly by its action on the adrenal glands, licorice has the ability to improve resistance to stress. It should be thought of during times of both physical and emotional stress, after surgery or during convalescence, or when feeling tired and run down.

Respiratory Problems and sore throat

Licorice eases congestion and coughing by helping to loosen and thin mucus in airways; this makes a cough more “productive,” bringing up phlegm and other mucus bits. Licorice also helps to relax bronchial spasms. The herb also soothes soreness in the throat and fights viruses that cause respiratory illnesses and an overproduction of mucus, such as irritating coughs, asthma and chest infections.

Fatigue and Muscle Soreness

By enhancing cortisol activity, glycyrrhizin helps to increase energy, ease stress and reduce the symptoms of ailments sensitive to cortisol levels, such as chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia.

Supports Healthy Liver

Licorice both protects the liver and promotes healing in this vital organ. The herb’s anti-inflammatory properties help calm hepatitis-associated liver inflammation. Licorice also fights the virus commonly responsible for hepatitis and supplies valuable antioxidant compounds that help maintain the overall health of the liver.

PMS and Menstrual Problems

The phytoestrogens in licorice have a mild estrogenic effect, making the herb potentially useful in easing certain symptoms of PMS (premenstrual syndrome), such as irritability, bloating and breast tenderness. Although the glycyrrhizin in licorice actually inhibits the effect of the body’s own estrogens, the mild estrogenic effect produced by licorice’s phytoestrogens manages to override this inhibiting action.

Heart and Circulatory System

Recent studies have found that by limiting the damage from LDL (“bad”) cholesterol, licorice may discourage artery-clogging plaque formation and contribute to the healthy functioning of the heart. Research indicates that modest doses of licorice (100 mg a day) have this effect.

The Minerals in Siaga are known to Support the Following Bodily Functions

Immune system

Blood circulation

Oxygen levels

Metabolism

Regulating of positive and negative ions within the body

Removal of harmful toxins

Joints and muscles

Reduction of physical stress, stiffness, cramps or discomfort

Controlling swelling

Reducing water retention

Relieving fatigue and tiredness

Promoting quality sleep

Slowing down aging

Increasing and maintaining body warmth

Counteracting harmful positive ions generated by electrical and electronic appliances (e.g. mobile phones, computers, televisions) and industrial wastes

FreeMart makes no claims or guarantees that anyone using Siaga will experience any health benefits. Any benefits that may be experienced can be attributed to ingesting nutrients that may have been missing in a person’s diet.

The foregoing information was gathered from several sources believed to be reliable including Pub Med sites from various countries. It is presented for educational purposes only and is not offered as medical advice. If you have any questions as to its safety, please consult your health care provider.

Recommended Use: For maintenance, take 3 droppers (approximately one-third full) daily. Can be taken with or without food, but is recommended to separate one-half hour from medications. If pregnant or under a doctor’s care, please consult your doctor before using.

Ingredients: FreeMart Siaga™ is an extract of Chaga Mushroom, Black Cumin Seed, Licorice Root suspended in Kosher Vegetable Glycerin and Water with Trace Minerals including Gold, Silver, Copper and Iodine and a trace amount of Grape Alcohol.

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