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hangezoeenthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

God(hcs)

c!multiple x god!reader

notes: the reader will be the god of death to make it a little bit more spicy :). c!punz’s pronouns are he/they, i’m not sure about the others, but i know theirs. also why does ranboo take away my gender? /j

word count: 1,672

warnings: arson, violence, cursing, yelling, mention of death, voices in technos part, spoilers for wilbur if you haven’t watch tommy’s lore stream, revival for wilbur, making a religion, time travel, egg, prison, stealing, anarchy, playful name calling

Sapnap

so obviously y’all would be a great match :)

you have creative mode, so when sap would ask you to give him a lighter and tnt, you would GLADLY give it

also, can we talk about him being a nether hybrid

fire squared

like fires left and right, hide your mom and your children in your house lol /j

but besides the whole arson thing, you favor him above anyone else on the server

like if he asks for diamond blocks, well here’s a whole inventory of it, also, here’s some ancient debris and some netherite

if someone asked, you would probably grant them with poison and curses, just because you can’t be “unloyal” to snapchat

wouldn’t be lonely anymore

Dreamwastaken

this duo is less chaotic, but chaotic enough where people avoid you

he still asks you for stuff, but most of the time, you don’t give him it because he annoys you too much about giving stuff

“hey y/n/n, can i pretty please get some emerald blocks.”

“nope bitch, get it yourself.”

but sometimes, you grant him some op shit, when it’s your good day

“because i’m being nice, here’s some diamond, now, don’t ask me again you little piss baby.”

“shut your trap y/n.”

“or what homeless teletubby, what are you going to do to a god like me?”

“you hang out with technoblade to much.”

Georgenotfound

maybe the least chaotic duo

you guys keep on relaxing and relaxing until the point where you don’t do anything

he barely asks you for anything, but only when it’s really really important, like a house or build

especially when he was building his little cottagecore house, he needed your godly presence to help

“y/n, what should the roof be made of?”

“i suggest brick, it makes it more aestheticy if that makes any sense.”

also barely any drama or tea with you guys

never arguing and never betraying each other is a must

Tubbo

also another least chaotic duo

literally help him with his bee farm, he will (platonically) love you forever

gotta be close to ranboo, that’s the rule

gives him SO much stuff, he’s a precious boi 🙄

also gotta be close to tommy, but not as much unfortunately

you help him pick out things for builds, like what material clashes with another, etc

“do you think that the wool and the netherite blocks look good together y/n?”

“nah, what i suggest is the wool with the gold, it looks perfect.”

sometiems, gotta put him in check because he gets a little ego built up

you definitely yank his horn a little too hard because of your IMMENSE STRENGTH

“OW, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT Y/N.”

“calm down sunny, you were just getting a bit over your head a little.”

Tommyinnit

chaotic duo like sapnap

snaps at anyone who annoys you and vice versa

you give him EVERYTHING, obviously except op and creative

he tries to persuade you to do something, but dreamxd wouldn’t allow it, since he is the main boss

“come on y/n, give me op.”

“no tommy, xd will kick my ass.”

“pweaseee.”

“no.”

you would DEFINITELY help him with the Big Innit Hotel, making the whole layout and color palette.

both of you have an intense hatred for ranboo, since he “stole” tubbo away from tommy

Ranboo

least involved in everything

just stay in the tundra and drink some tea, and you’re good for all of your life

helps him get netherite all the time so your boii can get the good stuff 😬

when he mines to get diamonds, he literally prays to you

“y/n, if you’re listening, please give me a 6 vein, i desperately need it for my collection of diamond blocks.”

and THERE IT IS

more than a 6 vein actually, a 12 vein

guess he needs to pray to you more

daily tea sessions, to talk about the good stuff, and NO, and i repeat NO skipping

threatening to flick water on him check ✅

Wilbur Soot

literally you spoil him

not to be angsty, but when he died and lost his last canon life, you revived him instead of Dream

now he’s practically at your knees

like he’s thinks that he owes you, but actually that’s the opposite

he was revived because you were lonely, and wanted your best friend back :(

prays to you when he goes to bed

“hey y/n, hope you’re having a great day, (platonically) love you.”

“love you too mortal.”

sometimes, to be at the peak of godness, you shower upon wilbur as gold to symbolize blessings, like zeus did before

“omg y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m trying to bless you, shut up bitch.”

just saying, he would make a religion about you :/

Karl Jacobs

omg don’t get me started on this

first, you wouldn’t codone him going back in time

he would definitely forget your name a lot, so that’s why you hated it

“hey karl, how are you doing?”

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

ANGST IS TOO MUCH FOR ME

you were definitely the one to push him towards sapnap and quackity

this is also another spoiled boi

give him the entire world while you’re at it pwease

he wants a few diamonds, nope, give him a chest full of them

Quackity

why are there so much chaotic duos in here?

literally chaos times infinity

energy to the max

literally, did you take an energy drink

grants him every wish he can randomly think off

“can i get a bucket with lava and a fish in it?”

“weird choice, but ok man.”

gotta be close to sap and karl or he isn’t your friend anymore /j

helps with las nevadas a lot, and definitely tries to rig the machines so you get money

“hey big q, i got 10,000 dollars.”

“that’s impossible... y/n, did you cheat?”

“nooo 😊”

help him preen his wings, and he goes “I LOVE YOU, MWAH MWAH.” obviously in his mind 🙄

Awesamdude

definitely helps him maintain the prison

you both love setting up red stone contraptions and pistons and all that giz

“hey sam, do you know where the redstone torches are?”

“yeah, there behind the pistons in the back.”

also you helped build the prison, since he could do that by himself

“are you sure that lava wall will work y/n, your calculations seem inaccurate.”

“i’m sure sam, this will add some more security to this goddamn server.”

nerd squared lol

BadBoyHalo

wouldn’t condone the egg

you warned him multiple times to get away from its grasp, but most of the times he’ll decline

“i won’t y/n, the egg is the future.”

he still, even after all the advancements, even after everything, he tries to ask you to join the eggpire

“come on y/n, you’ll like being with us.”

“i don’t wanna be on a stupid egg side, like let me crack the egg, i wanna eat it and turn it into a omelette.”

he doesn’t like that joke :(

but before he discovered the egg, both of you were joint at the hip

sight seeing was a must

languages being thrown around everywhere, since you were the little language muffin

Punz

steals stuff from everyone

hide your stuff, because the punzo-y/n team is unstoppable

definitely they can be really stubborn and indecisive

like one day, he will be like, “i need gold blocks.” and the next, “nevermind, i need netherite actually.”

like hon, stop switching

also anarchy buddies

burning down forests and buildings are your guys’s specialty

when you give him gold when they doesn’t ask, his heart goes brrr and his brain goes, “pog pog, they’re so cool, lets hug them.”

Technoblade

now this is the most deadly duo in the entire Dream Smp

better not piss you guys off 😐

he’s the Blood God, and you’re the God/Goddess/God being of Death

so if some occasion where you need to battle someone, like Techno’s enemies, *clears throat and murmurs Quackity*, you will obviously back your boy up :)

help him with enchanting and potions and he’s set for life

also you got have to be close to the great Philza Minecraft since him and Techno are buddy buddy

anarchy squared

helps with the voices since you have some of your own

“so what you’re saying is that i need to pay attention to them?”

“yeah, when i first learned that the voices were in my head, i tried to ignore them, but that sucked. so what i did was try to distract myself with various tasks, and that sucked.”

“so what do i do, you’re saying that i should listen to them, but how do i do that when they literally shout at me.”

“just embrace it, obviously when they do their little chant of blood for the blood god, you have to ignore them.”

“you suck at advice.”

Philza Minecraft

so since both of you resemble death, him being the Angel of Death and you being the God/Goddess/God being of Death, y’all are fucking best friends, platonic soulmates if you will

death squared

watch out, because if you piss them off, prepare to d-

gotta be close to Ranboo and Techno, and obviously others who he platonically likes

he doesn’t need to ask you for stuff, he’s the fricking Angel of Death, but he will ask you to preen his wings :D

“ow, not there y/n.”

“oh shut up grandpa, let me do it.”

“I’M NOT OLD DUMBASS.”

Dream XD

two gods at once, damn there is so much chaos

left and right, you guys are noticed by everyone, like purrrr

y’all would be in some fancy shit, to show your power

you would get jealous of him hanging out with george

“why are you jealous y/n?”

“you’re hanging out with george to much, hang out with me please :(.”

gifts are a must, even though both of you have access to creative

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rayisme · 3 years ago

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Romeo And Juliet But Gay

Chapter 4

Roman's POV

I chuckle at Virgil's nickname for me. "Alright then, let's get started Emo Nightmare." I tease back and I notice that Alexander seems a little less tense. "Alexander, do you want to ask the first question?" I ask, trying to be considerate of my friend's feelings as well as my own. He hesitates and glances at Virgil as he thought.

"Thank you sire, but I will have to decline. Perhaps you have some questions for this Sherlock Holmes." I giggle softly at the name and nod.

"Alright then Alexander. First off Virgil, what did you do in Intrusive Thoughts' kingdom?" Virgil glances to the side, I think in thought.

"One, he has me call him Remus. Two, I was his advisor. Longest lasting one too." I'm a bit taken aback at his answer.

"But I thought he changed his advisors daily." He nods.

"Usually, yeah. But you gotta know what he wants to hear. Usually murder. If he disagrees with you, he kills you. Simple as that. When I was an apprentice to the advisors, I noticed he usually agreed when they mentioned killing someone, unless it was someone he cared about. Which didn't happen often." I start getting excited now. He can tell us about what's been happening on my brother's side!

"Makes sense with him. He does like chaos and blood. Or... He did... I think he still does." I nod a little and smile. "What happened over there?" I ask as I grow serious again, wanting to wait until we have answers to have fun. He looks down and fidgets with his fingers, his eyes darkening. I sigh softly and smile gently, then spoke once more. "You don't have to tell me right now. I'm just worried about you and your people." He glances up, then nods a little.

"Well... First off then every once in a while, someone wanders into his side of the woods, or he creates someone to come in. Then he asks us what to do with them. By now I know the answer he wants it to torture them, he just wants ideas on how. He doesn't even see us as real people. He sees us as things to play with." My eyes widen a little and I'm a bit surprised at his brutality.

"Oh... Oh dear... We have to save these people immediately!" I see that Virgil nods a little in agreement and I stand, then start to pace the room. "However, the problem is how to do so. We can't just barge into his castle willy-nilly, it will be a massacre! And not in our favor. Perhaps if I distract him then we could storm the castle and at least save my people..."

Virgil's POV

I have no idea what's going on right now and I'm freaking out a little. Thank God that I'm good at hiding my emotions, otherwise this dimwitted prince would've caught me immediately. To be honest, I'm just improvising, I don't actually have a clue what Remus is doing in his kingdom. They surely should've noticed I was gone by now, I think at least, but they can surely still feel my presence so they know I haven't ducked out. I snap back into it when I feel the prince, Roman, tap my shoulder lightly. "Virgil? Are you okay?" I hesitate, but nod a little and he sighs softly. "Well... Alright... I have to go back to my other kingdom now, but I promise I'll come back. Will you be in charge until I come back?" I'm a little surprised at that, as is his advisor.

"But sire! He doesn't know how the kingdom works! He doesn't even know about... them!" He says and I roll my eyes as I cross my arms.

"The sides? Yes I do." They're both even more surprised at that, especially when I continue. "You and Remus are sides, opposites if I remember correctly, both creativity. Then there's Logic, Morality, Deciet, and Anxiety." Roman just stares at me in surprise seems deep in thought as Alexander glares at me. Roman seems to decide something and nods.

"I have an idea! Virgil, you still must stay here, unfortunately. But when I come back then I will walk with you in the garden and ask you more questions. I should be back within the hour, if possible. At the very least within the day. Au revoir my dear, till 'morrow I see you again!" Then he seems to fade into golden sparkles, much to my amazement.

"Pretty..." I mumble, then I am shoved against the wall and I hear a growling voice in my ear as my blood freezes in my veins.

"I do not care if Prince Roman likes you. I am in charge here while he is gone, and if you harm him I will kill you where you stand." I'm so surprised at this, for a few seconds all I can do is stare at the other man before I smile a little.

"First off, more then likely I won't touch him. Second, your word means squat right now. Imagine his surprise when he comes back and," I pretend to gasp softly for dramatic effect before I continue, "he finds me, passed out on the ground in a pool of blood! So he checks the cameras and see that you, his trusted advisor and loyal friend, not only threatened my life, you tried to follow through with that threat!" Alexander thinks for a minute, then scoffs and leaves. I let out a soft sigh of relief and I lean against the wall as I speak again, softer so even if he was right outside the door he couldn't hear. "Thank God he believed me... That was nerve wracking."

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

I do my best over the next 3 hours to serve the kingdom to the best of my ability, much to the shock of the townsfolk. However, many of them quickly grow to like me, because as I am so cautious, I suggest to them to save canned goods for the winter months so that they won't go hungry, or in cases of famine. Everyone is very thankful and soon I hear that Prince Roman is back and I have to go to the castle. I'm a bit nervous to hear that he wants to see me, but I follow them back anyway.

They take me to the throne room, which has beautiful walls that look like they're made of gold and quartz that sparkle brighter then any diamond. I can't help but gasp softly as I look around in astonishment. There's so much gold, white and red in the room that it almost blinds me when I first walk in. Roman is sitting on the white steps in front of his throne with a red carpet that looks like velvet, and he absolutely lights up when he sees me. "Virgil! Oh, I'm so excited you're back! I was told what a good job you did at helping my kingdom and I must thank you! How may I ever repay you?" I have to think for a minute as I stand in front of him, then chuckle when I think of something.

"I really couldn't ask you for much Princey." Roman crosses his arms and seems to be pouting, making me roll my eyes playfully.

"There must be something! I insist that you must have a reward." I'm really not getting out of this am I? I just shrug in resignation and sigh.

"Alright. If you insist, I'm running out of black eyeshadow." Roman rolls his eyes and stands, then moves his hands like he's making something out of clay. I watch in confusion, but to my amazement, an eyeshadow pallet appears in his hands with different shades, textures, and designs of black. He hands it to me, then starts to make something else, which looks a lot bigger. When it finally forms, it's a red hoodie with gold lining and a white inner facing. The second it touches my skin I can't help but relax and smile a little. "Heh... Thanks Princey. But I gotta go back now. I'll come back to visit." Roman deflates a little and nods sadly as we both wave goodbye, some of his guards escorting me to the edge of the two kingdoms.

I look back at the guards when we get there and nod a little. "You two don't have to escort me any further. Thanks though." They instantly nod and run back towards Roman's castle. I smile a little at it and nod a little before I turn around, then start walking to Remus' side, slowly letting everything melt away and into my room. "Till we meet again Sir Sing-A-Lot."

Page Count: 4

Word Count: 1,456

@transformationloveb @virgil-my-emo-son

#sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction #roman sanders #ts roman #ts roman sanders #virgil #virgil anxiety #ts virgil #virgil sanders #prinxiety #prinxeity #roman x virgil #Romeo And Juliet But Gay

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foibles-fables · 3 years ago

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Hi miss fables.

any tips on writing like you?

also can we get an ETA for Hawk and Thrust?(no pressure tho)

Oh my goodness what a polite salutation, I adore it!!!

Tips on writing like me?? suffer, daily. KIDDING. Kinda. This is a tough question to answer--there's no one-size-fits-all advice, especially when talking in terms of style. Every writer's style is different, each with its own little ticks and nuances, and everyone's gotta find their own groove. The best advice I can give is twofold:

First, practice, practice, practice. I've been at this for a long time, and I'm still learning and growing and changing. And practice different kinds of it, too. My educational and career background kept me working when I took a long hiatus from creative writing--lots of formal and scientific writing in college, lots of technical writing at work now--and the practice there certainly transferred to my jump back into creative writing after a decade. Write for you, write what you're passionate about, craft some emails, make magnet poetry, try to think of a new Wordle opener daily. It all adds up.

Second, read! Read a lot and read often. (I need to take my own advice here and pick up the pace with it again.) And read varied materials--anything that hooks you in. Read fanfiction, yes, but also please read novels. Or read short stories. Or comics. Read nonfiction. Read autobiographies. Read research papers. Read game guide books. Read screenplays and stage scripts and librettos. Read poetry. Read nature guides. Read news articles and editorials (and apply your beautiful critical thinking skills!). Read obituaries. Read how-to guides. Read song lyrics. And in figuring out the things you enjoy reading, think about why you enjoy them. Take what that creator's done and--going back to point one--try to apply it to your own work. Experiment and branch out. Bringing these pieces you like together is what coalesces your own style.

That's the best I can do, besides like--just saying to suffer again, because that's sometimes how it feels on my end, lmao.

AS FOR Hawk and Thrust! Hah! It is still underway after this weird week of floating in Listlessness City. I don't have an exact ETA on it yet, but I'm finally feeling the weirdness of...well, all That lift off of me. And now I'm more determined than ever to bring y'all this ✨Officially Canon Divergent✨ Between-Installments Smut. What do I have to lose at this point? I'm also brewing a Number of other HFW-adjacent pieces (at lots of different spots on the spectrum of canon divergence and canon compliance), so watch this space?! I promised y’all I was only going to get Worse about these two. I'm about ready to fistfight with a god.

#writing stuff #foibles is writing horizon stuff #hawk and thrust #(lol)#have a lovely day anon!

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give-her-hell-from-us-pevees · 4 years ago

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He Could Be the one

Reggie Imagine

This is the fourth time I’ve posted this. For some reason it won’t come up in the tags. If it doesn’t for you, let me know! hehe I did it y’all!!! I’ve been thinking about this all day and I just had to write out!! i change the lyrics “hes a cutie” to guitar cutie because when I was little i was convinced it was guitar cutie

Based of the amazing Hannah Montana song, He Could Be the One. The band finds a song in your book about a “guitar cutie” and the boys tease Luke. However, the band quickly forgets that there are three boys that play guitar in the band.

You had a massive crush on Reggie. There was no denying it. At first you thought there was no way you could a thing for your bandmate. But the more you were with him, the more you found yourself falling for him. And it wasn’t just band practice, you guys were always together. Sometimes you just needed to get away from the boys for a while, but Reggie was always the first to make sure you were okay. He would find you in your little spot on the beach, or in your favorite music store looking at the new records and tapes. He would just plop down next to you and wrap his arm around you and talk about your day.

Reggie was so sweet. He was always your number one hype man during shows or practice. When you felt like you weren’t good enough for the band he was always there to show you your worth. “Y/N we wouldn’t be the same with out you! Your songs bring so much to band. They can connect to the fans and I don’t know how you do it!”

Not to mention, that face. That smile. That adorable, goofy, toothy smile he has had ever since he was little boy. Whenever he flashes his smile at you, you feel heart race and you pray nobody else can hear it. He was just so damn cute all the time. How is it possible? When on stage, you would look and see him dancing and jumping while playing his bass and you wished you could dance with him.

But you were scared to tell him. You didn’t want to cause any drama in the band.

But after awhile you realize how much you loved this boy, you had to let it somehow. So, you did what you did best; wrote a song.

You had a notebook, similar to Luke’s that was filled with songs. Some completed, other pages just had random versus. You were sat in a bean bag chair in the garage writing before band practice. You had your notebook propped up against your knees as you wrote down the song. Once you started, you couldn’t stop writing. Everything you had felt the past few months were being let out onto this piece of paper. The words flowed effortlessly on the page.

“Hey baby girl”

You jumped and fell of your chair. Your notebook slammed shut.

“Fuck Reggie!” your heart was pounding. You couldn’t tell if it was because Reggie scared you, or because he almost saw the song you were writing about him, or because he called you baby girl. Although “baby girl” was a daily thing with him.

“Woah okay. Sorry Y/N’ he gave his hand out for you to help you get up when he noticed your book in your hand.

“New song?” he asked.

“Something. It’s not that good though.” You tell him placing the book in your bag before he can see it.

“Y/N, how many times do we have to talk about this? You're the best song writer we have! You can do no wrong”

Your face started to heat up as you turned around to look a Reggie. You tried to play it cool and roll your eyes. “Don’t let Luke hear you say that. But I do think Home Is where my horse deserves some credit” you said jokingly.

“See, this is why I love you. You my girl, have great taste” he said while point at you with that boyish smile.

Love?

“my girl”

My god how does he get your heart to act like this?

“Taste is anything that isn’t Bobby’s songs” You tell him trying to busy yourself at your keyboard.

“That’s very true”

As he said that the rest of the band started to walk into the garage. Luke looked like he was about to explode with excitement. “Everything okay Luke?” Reggie asked.

“We got a gig tomorrow night on the Strip!”

Your eyes widened and mouth dropped. “The strip? Seriously? Where at?” you asked joining the rest of the group.

“Some new club is opening tomorrow night and they asked if we could perform!” Alex said.

“Oh my god! Think of the amount of people that are going to be there! This is great guys!” you said.

Luke said something about getting practiced but you told the boys that would be right back. You were going into the house for some water.

“New club, I’m thinking a new song” Luke said.

“Do you have anything written?” Alex asked

“I don't” Luke said

“ I have some-”

“Y/N was writing a song when I walked in” Reggie said interrupting Bobby.

“Great! lets look!” Luke said. He grabbed your bookbag off the ground and dumped the contents onto the small coffee table in front of the couch. Your school work, pens, random pieces of trash, and your notebook came falling out of your bag. Luke grabbed the notebook and flipped to the last written page.

Luke started to read the beginning of the song“Smooth talkin, so Rockin. He’s got everything a girls wanting …”

“ A lovesong? really? That’s not very us. Or Y/N” Bobby said.

“I don’t think we are meant to see this” Alex said.

“come on, Keep going Luke” Reggie said eagerly.

Luke took a deep breathe and started reading the song out loud again, “He’s a cutie, he plays it groovy. and I can’t keep myself from doin’ somethin’ stupid”

“Guys I really don’t think-”

“Woah! Wait a minute guys listen to this” Luke said, “He’s lightnin’, sparks are flyin’ Everywhere I go he’s always on my mind and I’m goin’ crazy about him lately And I can’t help myself from how my heart is racin’ Think I’m really diggin’ on his vibe He really blows me away”

“Yea Guys were definitely aren’t meant to to see this” Alex said

As Alex spoke Luke eyes went wide and he dropped the notebook on the table.

“What? what is it” Reggie asked. He walked over to where luke was standing and he pointed to the words, “guitar cutie”

“Guit-guitar cutie?” Reggie said in shock.

Alex popped up from his chair and went over to reggie, “Guitar cutie?”

Luke looked up at the boys and point to his guitar that was strapped around his neck and then to himself, “Guitar cutie”

“Y/N likes Luke?” Bobby said

“I guess! who else would be guitar cutie?” Luke said

“um I don’t know. me?” Bobby said.

“No she has taste” Reggie said without stuttering.

“Who has taste?”

The boys all screamed when they saw you walk in with a water for each of them.

“What are you looking at?” you ask them, your voice filled concern. Alex tried to hide the book but Luke took it out of his hands. “Guitar cutie?” he asked you.

Oh no

“Wh-what?” you asked

“Your song that you wrote. ‘Guitar Cutie’s, is that- is that me?“ Luke asked you

"You had no right to go through my stuff Luke!” You said. Your voice was mix of rage and embarrassment. “I don’t just flip through your song book without asking!

"I’m sorry Y/N we were just trying to find a new sing for the gig tomorrow. It was the first one we saw. We’re so sorry”

You were on the verge of tears,“You all saw the song?” You didn’t want to right.

“We all saw the song Y/N” Reggie said with his hand on the back of his neck.

“But Y/N” Alex said. “If you need to talk to us, or well um … Luke we can go”

“It’s not about him!” you said

“I knew it!” Bobby said with confidence

You walled away from Luke with daggers in your eyes and stormed over to Bobby. “And don’t flatter yourself Bobby because it sure as hell not about you either” You yelled at him. “You don’t know shit Bobby!” Your turned to look at the rest of them “Clearly none of you do”

You turned around and ripped your book out of Luke’s hands. You held the book to your chest as tears started to roll down your cheek as you walked out of the garage.

“Oh we really messed up this time” Alex said.

“Wait” Bobby said. “If it’s not about Me-”

“Or me” Like said.

“It’s clearly not me” Alex said.

“Then who is it?” Bobby asked.

All of the boys were looking around the room at each other. And then, a light bulb went off and Reggie’s eye went wide with the realization.

“I play bass” he simply said.

It finally dawned on the boys. “You’re guitar cute!?” They shouted together.

Reggie grabbed his leather jacket off the couch along with your bag. “I gotta go” Reggie said running out the door.

It took a little while, but Reggie finally found you on the beach near your house. He saw you sitting close to the water with your feet in the ocean. You had your head down in your hands. As sad as you were Reggie couldn’t help but be filled with happiness and pride at the thought that you like him back.

Reggie always liked you. Whenever his parents were fighting, he would go straight to your house. You never interrogated him like the rest of the boys did. If he wanted to talk, you’d talk with him about what happened. If not, you’d find a way to take his mind off it.

He swears when ever he hears you sing, it’s like listening to angels. You have the most beautiful voice he has ever heard. He loves just sitting with you at piano as you sing and mumble to yourself as you figure out how your new song should sound like.

Not to mention, you are the most beautiful girl he knows. Inside and out. You were smart, creative, goofy and kind. But he couldn’t help but want to stare into your Y/E/C eyes. He also love your hands. He loved watching how soft and delicately they moved over your piano at home or your keyboard you used in the band.

And the fact that you, his absolutely dream girl, wrote a song about him? My god he has to hear it to music.

He took his jacket off and carried it in his hand as he walked down to you on the beach. Without saying a word, he draped his jacket around your shoulders and sat down next you.

“Reggie now is not a good time” you said in your hands.

“We don’t have to talk about what happened” Reggie said. “But if you are gonna call me Guitar cutie, I reserve the right to call you Piano Cutie”

You took your head away from your hands and Reggie saw how red and puffy your eyes were from crying “Reginald if you came all the way down here to make fun of me I swear to god-”

“No!” Reggie exclaimed. “I just meant, ya know. After I ask you out, if your little nickname for me is going to be guitar cutie, I deserve to call you Piano Cutie. Or at least call me Bass Cutie. Cause honestly, the whole Guitar cutie thing confused the boys a lot”

“Wait. What?” You asked.

And in typical reggie fashion, he wrapped his arms around you. But his other hand went to cup your cheek and he leaned down and kissed you. Your body quickly tensed up after being able to process what was happening, your hand immediately went into Reggie’s hair and pulled him closer. Your noses were pushed together by how close the two of you were. Your hand moved from his hair to his cheek as you pulled away to get some air. As you pulled away Reggie was looking at you with the most loving look in his eyes.

“Got anymore songs about me, Piano Cutie?”

#Reggie #reggie julie and the phantoms #reggie jatp #reggie jatp imagine #reggie Julie and the phantom imagine #reggie julie and the phantoms imagine #Jeremy Shada #JATP #JATP imagine #JATP reggie imagine #luke julie and the phantoms #luke julie and the phantoms imagine #alex julie and the phantoms #alex and willie #Willie and Alex

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

You Kill Me

The Curator (The Dark Pictures Anthology) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Summary: Death is something many people fear. Something we wish only upon our greatest enemies. Something that’s inevitable and unpredictable. However, Death himself is faced with a rather interesting person who appears to not be intimidated by him at all. In fact, she’s getting quite a good kick out of being friends with Death.

Requested by @xs1nister Hello hun! Thank you so much for your request, I’m so happy you decided to send it my way! I’m sorry to be posting it so late, I hope the final product will make it worth the wait. Please enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

“What’s up, Grim?“ The Curator winces when a familiar voice echoes throughout the repository, “Or do you prefer Reaper?“

He rolls his eyes, closing the book he’s been reading, “Very funny, Y/N. If I had known it would have this effect I would have never told you who I really am.”

Y/N is unbothered by the older man’s comment as they plop down in a chair opposite him, their eyes shinning and a smile across their face. “Hey, what’s with you being so serious? You gotta let a person celebrate the fact that they’ve gotten the privilege of having more than one run-in with death and are still drawing breath. Who else can say that? Certainly not the people you’ve met before!” they laugh, grabbing a small formatted novel from his desk and flipping it in their hands, examining the cover.

He rolls his eyes for the second time today, but has nothing to say to them. He wants to scold them about their immature and overly enthusiastic behavior but he can’t. He likes seeing them like this - like themselves. They’re always a happy, bubbly person. They keep life for themself - and for others by being in theirs - interesting. His repository is a lot brighter since they stepped foot in it.

Speaking of that instance...

Y/N had wandered in and had given him this blank stare when their eyes met. He was surprised, to say the least. He could always sense people before they walked in, he always knew who’d be next to meet their fate’s end. They were never brought up on his radar though. He had no idea who they were, which was unusual for him. It was his job to know everyone who walked through the doors of his home before they even approached it. This person, however, was a mystery to him.

“How may I help you?“ He had asked them.

“I don’t- I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t remember-“ This was an odd occurrence, one he had never faced before.

Y/N was distressed and scared, rightfully so. They were lost in a part of town they had never been in before with no recollection of how they got there or why on Earth they had even taken off in that direction. He prepared them a hot cup of tea while they sat in one of the leather chairs, fidgeting nervously, face as pale as the light seeping in through the window.

“But you do remember everything else about yourself, correct?“ they nodded, “It could be a momentary blackout. Has such a thing happened before?“ they shook their head. “Peculiar.“

His own fate was toying with him, maybe offering him some sort of chance by sending him this human being, one that would clearly surprise him. Maybe to test his work ethic - death meets anyone who steps foot in the repository, no exceptions. The Curator was torn, he has been doing his job for years, putting an end to hundreds of thousands of stories of people throughout the years, had never once had a second thought about it - if the person was sent to him, his duty had to be fulfilled. There was nothing up to him to decide. But looking at Y/N with no intel on who they were, where they came from or why they had come, he felt they didn’t deserve it. He felt they had a lot more to do in life, that this story wasn’t ready for an end yet. Of course, that was breaking all his principles and rules and it was unfair to every person he had connected with their story’s end before, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that. All he wanted was to spare Y/N.

“Would you...care to stop by sometime? I mean, the books seemed to intrigue you...“ He was hesitant, but God knows he wanted their answer to be ‘yes‘. He has never been a person who leaves mysteries unsolved. And this mystery by the name of Y/N was apparently his to solve.

“I’m a big book lover, so you can count on it.“ They flashed him a bright smile, one they somehow managed to reclaim after such a big shock and moment of absolute fear and confusion, “This time I’ll come on purpose, though.“

And they did, right the following day. And the day after. And the one after that. It became a routine. One he eventually felt the need to break for their sake, despite how big of a vacancy would open in the repository if they stopped coming by. He decided to do so by revealing his truth to them. It didn’t go as planned, to say the least...

“Like, the ACTUAL Death? The Grim Reaper? Or is this a book reference I’m missing?“ Y/N hadn’t bat an eye, they went straight to discussing the matter. Didn’t bother wasting time in silence, trying to comprehend things on their own. Unlike him, they are a team player - a solution to them is a puzzle multiple people need to solve. One thing was for certain, however, his revelation had the complete opposite effect of what he’d hoped for. Fate had pulled its strings once again, working against the plans he had in mind, making them grow even more attached to him now that he was ‘cooler’ - their words, not his. Seeing that they couldn’t be scared away, finally coming to terms with the fact that they had come into his existence to stay, he stopped trying to control their fate. It didn’t make sense, especially not when he couldn’t even control his own.

“You know,“ Y/N starts talking again, snapping him out of his reminiscing, “I started writing again.“ They had been struggling with their creativity for a while and he was a part of their whole journey of retrieving it so hearing these news brought him immense joy, “I started this collection of short poems I’ve called ‘Friends With Death’. What do you think?” They have the audacity to wink at him with this self-pleased smile on their face.

“Oh dear,“ The Curator is once again left with a lack of words as he sighs in slight disappointment, “You can’t be serious.“

They shake their head, “No, no, no. I’m DEADLY serious.“

It’s moments like these that he wishes he never spilled the truth about himself, while also being glad he did. Either way, he’s happy it didn’t drive Y/N away and send them running for the hills. Their jokes may be vexing, but they also get a smile, maybe sometimes even a chuckle from him. Not that he’d ever admit it or show it in front of them, of course.

“You kill me, Y/N.“ He finally breathes out, a small smile on his face - the result of the intense gratitude he feels for having them in his life.

Y/N cracks up, falling into a fit of giggles as they lean back in the chair, arms clutching at their stomach. Hearing and seeing them laugh like this makes surviving dozens of death puns daily well worth it.

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beatriceeagle · 5 years ago

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I'm more of a fantasy than sci-fi person, but consider my interest piqued. Why should I watch farscape?

Okay, the thing is, every Farscape fan’s pitch on Why You, Yes You, Should Watch Farscape ends up sounding very similar, and that’s because Farscape is a black hole that sucks you in and does things to your brain, and after you’ve watched it you are never, ever the same, which incidentally is basically the plot of Farscape.

I would summarize the basic plot for you, but that’s work, and luckily, the show’s credits sequence includes a handy summary that I will provide instead of doing that work: “My name is John Crichton, an astronaut. A radiation wave hit, and I got shot through a wormhole. Now I’m lost in some distant part of the universe on a ship, a living ship, full of strange alien life forms. Help me. Listen, please. Is there anybody out there who can hear me? I’m being hunted by an insane military commander. Doing everything I can. I’m just looking for a way home.“

So let me break down that monologue into its component reasons you should watch Farscape.

1) Some of the strange alien life forms are Muppets.

Farscape a co-production with the Jim Henson Company, and while there are many aliens played by humans in make-up, there are also a considerable number (including two of the regular crew) who are Muppets. By which I do not mean Kermit. I mean really gorgeous, elaborate works of art.

Also, even a lot of the humans-in-makeup aliens just look cool, and incredibly weird. Here’s an alien who appears in a single episode of season 1:

Not that there aren’t, you know, occasional Star Trek-style “these guys are just humans with weird hair,” or whatever, but in general, the aliens on Farscape look really alien. And that’s more than an aesthetic choice; it’s Farscape’s driving narrative principle. The aliens look alien, they act alien, they have alien values.

You know how a lot of sci-fi shows will have a stand-in for “fuck,” like Battlestar Galactica has “frak”? Well, Farscape has “frell.” And also “dren.” And yotz, hezmana, mivonks, loomas, tralk, snurch, eema, drannit, dench, biznak, arn, drad, fahrbot, narl. Some of those are swear words, but some of them are just words, never explicitly translated, that the alien characters will pepper into their speech, because, well, why should translator microbes be able to completely translate all the nuances of an alien culture? You’ll pick it up from context. One time, in passing, a character mentions that he’s familiar with the concept of suicide, but there’s no word for it in his language. I cannot emphasize to you enough how fleeting this moment is; the episode is not about suicide, we’re not having a great exchange of cultural ideas—at the time, the characters are running down a corridor in a crisis, as they are about 70 percent of the time—it’s just that the subject got brought up, and this character needed to talk around the fact that he literally didn’t have a word, in that moment. Things like that happen all the time, on Farscape.

Because more than anything else, Farscape is a show about culture shock. John Crichton is this straight, white Southern guy, at the top of his game—he’s an astronaut! he’s incredibly high status!—and then he ends up on the other side of the galaxy, where none of his cultural markers of privilege hold any meaning, where he doesn’t know the rules, where he literally can’t even open the doors. And he has to unlearn the idea that humanity is central, that he is the norm.

2) John Crichton, an astronaut, is pretty great.

A show that’s about a straight white guy with high status having to learn that he’s not the center of the universe could easily be centered around a really insufferable person, but one of the subtle things that makes Farscape so wonderful is that Crichton is, for the most part, pretty excellent. He has a lot of presumptions to unlearn because almost anyone in his cultural position would, but he’s also just a stand-up guy: compassionate, intelligent, open-minded, decent, forgiving, brave, hopeful.

And the galaxy tries to kick a whole lot of that out of him. It doesn’t succeed, mostly, but if Farscape is about anything other than culture shock, it’s about the lasting effects of trauma. How you can go through a wormhole one person, and experience things that turn you into someone you don’t recognize.

That’s kind of grim-sounding, but ultimately, what I’m trying to say is that Farscape is almost fanatically devoted to character work. Crichton is not the only character who sounds like he should be one thing and ends up being another. All of the characters—all of them, all of them, even the annoying ones—are complicated wonders. And you don’t have to wonder whether the events of the episode you’re watching are going to matter. They will. Everything that happens to the characters leaves a mark. Everything leaves them forever changed. Whether it��s mentioned explicitly or not—and often enough, it’s not explicit—the characters remember what has happened to them.

3) The living ship houses a lot of excellent women, among them the ship itself.

Ah, the women of Farscape, thou art the loves of my fucking life.

There’s Aeryn Sun, former Peacekeeper (that’s the military that the “insane military commander” hails from) now fugitive, currently learning the meaning of the word “compassion” (literally). She will break your fingers and also your heart. John/Aeryn is the main canon romantic ship.

There’s Pa’u Zhoto Zhaan, a priestess of the ninth level, current pacifist, former anarchist. Sorry, leading anarchist. She orgasms in bright light! (Oh my god, Farscape.)

There’s Chiana, my fucking bestie, a teenage(ish? ages in Farscape are weird) fugitive on the run from a repressive authoritarian state. Chiana is like a seductress con artist grifter thief who mostly just wants to survive so that she can have fun, damn it. Characters on Farscape do not really discuss sexualities (sex, yes, sexualities, no) and it would be fair to say that several of them do not fall along human sexuality lines generally, but I’m gonna go ahead and say that Chiana is canonically not straight.

Then there’s Moya, the ship herself, and it’s hard to get a straight read on Moya’s personality, since she mostly can’t speak. But she definitely has opinions, and things and people she cares about. And she moves the plot, though that gets into spoiler territory.

Past first season, further excellent women show up: Jool (controversial, but I like her), Sikozu (I once saw a Tumblr meme where someone had marked down that Sikozu would lose her shit when someone pronounced “gif” wrong, and that’s absolutely correct, and it’s why I love her), and Noranti (who is incredibly weird, and incredibly hard to summarize, but man, you gotta love her willingness to just show up and do her thing). Plus, there’s a recurring female villain, Grayza, who I could write probably multiple essays about. (I don’t know how you will feel about Grayza, as not everyone loves her, but I think she’s fucking fascinating, especially because she’s not actually the only recurring female villain. We also get Ahkna!)

(Side note: I should mention, here, that the cast of Farscape is really, really white. There is one cast member of color, Lani Tupu, but he pretty much represents the entirety of even, like, incidental diversity in casting for the series.)

Anyway, Farscape is full of awesome women, and also awesome and unexpected men, and it really enjoys playing with audience expectations of gender roles, generally. Literal entire books have been written about the way that Farscape fucks around with sex, sexuality, and gender. It’s a little weird because it was the late 90s/early 2000s, and sometimes that does come through, but Farscape’s guiding principle was always to try not to present American culture of the time as the norm, so like. It is not.

(An aside on Farscape and sex: Literally every character on Farscape has sexual tension with every other character. If you are a shipper, this is a Good Show, because no matter who you ship, there will not only be subtext, you will get a Moment of some kind. Multiple characters kiss the Muppet. Farscape is dedicated to getting into the nitty-gritty of the galaxy—I like to think of it as showing the guts of the universe—so a lot of the show is kind of squishy. They live on a biomechanoid ship, instead of androids there are “bioloids,” there’s a lot of focus on strange alien biologies, and lots of weird glowing fluids and things. I think the sex thing is kind of part and parcel of the larger biology focus: Farscape is really fascinated with how we all eat and evolve and live and die and, well, fuck. Which is in turn, kind of part of its focus on making everything really alien.)

4) Other stuff you should know.

Farscape as a whole is excellent, but it was kind of the product of creative anarchy—an Australian/American coproduction (oh yeah, everyone except Crichton speaks with an Australian accent) that was also partnered with the Henson company, whose showrunners were based in America but whose actual production all took place in Australia, and who was just constantly trying new things. So individual episodes can vary wildly in quality. It really takes off in the back half of season one, but no season is without a few off episodes.

It is extraordinarily funny, and I really think I haven’t stressed that enough. It’s one of the shows I want to quote the most in my daily life, but almost all of its humor is really context-dependent, and if you just wander around going, “Hey Stark? What’s black and white, and black and white, and black and white?” people look at you really funny.

It’s very conversant with pop culture generally (although obviously sci-fi specifically, and Star Trek most specifically of all) and really enjoys deconstructing tropes, often to the effect of, “Well, Crichton really does not know what to do here, does he?” but sometimes just to be interesting.

There are also a lot of themes about science, and its uses and misuses.

The whole thing is fucking epic, and if you get invested at all, will take you on an emotional ride.

This show is weird. I know that that’s probably come across by now, but I think it’s worth reiterating as its own point: Farscape is so weird. Like, proudly, unabashedly, trying its hardest, weird. An amazing kind of weird.

If you’re into fantasy, you should know that there’s a recurring villain who’s just a wizard. Like, they don’t bother to explain it any more than that, he’s just a fucking wizard.

In summary: You should watch Farscape because it is a weird, wild, emotional, epic romance/drama/action/allegory full of Muppets and leather and one-liners and emotional gut punches and love, and if you let it, it will worm its way into you and never let go, which, now that I think of it, is another Farscape plot.

Send me meta prompts to distract me from my migraine!

#farscape #meta

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creativekat · 4 years ago

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PTC : part ii

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader

[ gif by @pascalsky ]

Word Count: 1,563

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: unintentional body piercing play

A/N: The response to the first part of this story was so overwhelming and we can’t thank you enough! @the-purity-pen and I are having so much fun writing this! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged on the next one! THANK YOU! Also, you can read Part One here!

It was Friday afternoon and you found yourself at the local grocery store. Often you went daily to pick up the few things you needed each night for dinner, but on Fridays you liked to shop for the whole weekend. That way you had time for any home projects and grading that you had to do. The problem was you weren’t quite sure what you were in the mood for which led to you wandering the aisles, picking things up here and there.

You had just turned into the aisle with canned fruits and vegetables and were considering getting some canned peaches to make a cobbler when you heard a familiar voice call your last name, “Hello, how are you?”

You turned to see Marcus Moreno walking toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, seeing him wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, “Did you play hooky from work today? Your secret’s safe with me, if you did.” Then tentatively you added, “And, if I’m supposed to call you Marcus, you should call me by my first name.” You gave him your name and a slight smile. You couldn’t help but notice how well his jeans fit him, not to mention how the t-shirt lovingly clung to his upper body. You suddenly became very interested in the label on a can of pineapple.

Marcus repeated your name softly as if committing it to memory. The way it rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat but you were busy occupying yourself with the can of pineapple. “No, no hooky today,” he laughed and the sound was so pleasant. It was different from the nervous man that had sat across from you to discuss his daughter.

Maybe it was the change of scenery or the fact that neither of you needed to be “on” while grocery shopping. “Missy is having a sleepover this weekend so I gotta stock up on some junk food,” he told you and shook his head. Somewhere deep in his mind he was mentally cursing himself for allowing a sleepover of five preteen girls to happen in his house. That definitely would have been better territory for his wife.

But Missy was making friends and that’s what mattered to him. He knew she felt left out of so many things whether it was because she didn’t have her own powers or because of being the leader of the Heroics’ kid. So her having friends that wanted to sleep over was a big deal. You were glad to hear that Missy was having a sleepover. You remembered going to a few when you were her age. You never hosted, but not because you didn’t want to, but because your parents wouldn’t allow it. Looking back their reasoning made sense, but at the time it had just felt like another punishment for being different.

You looked up from the pineapple label and smiled sympathetically, “You have my sympathies. What do you have planned for activities?” Keeping a group of pre-teen kids from getting bored, even in each others’ company would be important. When they got bored, they got creative. And that was when bad things happened. “I can give you some ideas if you want. I was a pre-teen girl once.” You bit your lip and looked away, slightly embarrassed at the fairly obvious statement.

His eyes scanned the aisle a bit, feeling like the conversation was going a bit stale. “Fruit in a can or fresh fruit? What’s your preference?” he asked as he leaned forward to grab a can of apple pie filling that was right next to you. As he leaned over, his voice was soft and velvety in your ear.

You glanced at the can in his hand, “For pie? Depends. Have you made pie before?” You didn’t want to make any assumptions. Just because he was a man didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled in the kitchen. You pictured him standing at the counter, mixing up some delicious concoction, biceps moving as he stirred, and your mouth watered at the image. Your cheeks burned instantly.

“Yeah but,” he paused to read over the can, trying to ignore his desire to look you over. “It’s been a few years. I’m not much of a cook,” he mumbled with a nervous chuckle before turning to put the can in his cart. He turned back and moved closer to you and you felt a spark of desire run down your spine. You swallowed hard as he reached around you again, quietly apologizing for the intrusion.

But his eyes on you made him miss which can he was aiming for. His hand swept at the empty spot on the shelf and ended up knocking off three other cans in rapid succession. “Shit!” he cursed under his breath as his hand reached out, his powers manifesting to stop the metallic can from falling.

You sucked your lip between your teeth fighting the urge to gasp or making any sounds revealing the pleasure his power had just elicited in you. Not only had his magnetic ability affected the cans on the shelf but it had pulled at the nipple piercings concealed beneath your shirt as well as the silver barbell that decorated your clitoris. Your nostrils flared with the effort to suppress the moan that nearly escaped your lips.

Marcus looked at you questioningly at your obvious stress, but you merely smiled in return, your eyes blazing with unanticipated need. When you finally found your voice, it was higher than normal, “Something tells me you know your way around. A kitchen, I mean.” Your face bloomed with heat and you finally had to turn completely away. You leaned into your cart, faking the need to rearrange the items in your cart.

Holding the caught can in his hand, he watched as you turned around towards your cart. He took a moment to straighten up at your words. “Uh, yeah a bit,” he said as he turned and put the can he had caught but not really wanted back onto the shelf. “My wife she, uh, she did most of the cooking and I know Missy misses it so I thought maybe a little cooking activity for the sleepover could be fun,” he rambled. When you didn’t turn around right away, he furrowed his brows and moved closer to you. “You okay?”

Your breast and clit still tingled from the stimulation they’d just received. But, of course, you couldn’t tell Marcus Moreno that. Taking a moment, you breathed in slowly through your nose then exhaled through your mouth. Finally you turned to face him, a smile on your face, “Oh yes, I’m fine.” After a moment of thought, your eyes brightened, “You could have them make their own personal pizzas!” Now that you were face to face again, you were reminded of just how handsome he was.

Marcus was eyeing you, trying to figure out what had you so flustered. He cleared his throat and nodded at your admission of being fine. He figured he’d have to take it for what it was. But the way you brightened actually took him by surprise. You were standing a lot closer than he realized and for a moment his breath was taken away.

His brain fog finally cleared and he nodded slowly. “Personal pizzas? You think they’d like that?” he questioned and you were more than happy to give a strong nod of an answer, trying anything to quelch the burning deep in the pit of your stomach.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking, again, about the brief moment of pleasure he’d given you. Your mind ran with the thoughts of what other things he might be able to do. Distractedly, you grabbed a couple cans from the shelf and placed them in your cart causing Marcus to smile. You glanced down at what you’ve just dropped in there and cringe “I bet you thought people only used mincemeat at the Holidays."

You looked at him, feeling like he could see right through you. After all, you were acting bizarre. He gave a small forced smile, trying to hide how confused he was at this interaction but laughed off your comment anyways. “It’s delicious,” he commented as he watched you. “Do you, uh,” his hand came to rub furiously at the back of his neck.

“Do you have any free time this afternoon? To, uh, I don’t know, help me find a recipe that would be easy for them?” his head dropped down as he asked but he pulled his hand from his neck and looked up at you with earnest puppy dog eyes. He figured since you were a teacher, you’d know what would be easy for their age group to follow as far as instructions.

Your eyes widened momentarily in surprise, but then you smiled, “Uhhh … I think so … I mean, yeah, I can clear my schedule.” You didn’t want to seem too eager to spend time with him. He was still Missy’s father. But, he was asking for help. There wasn’t any need to read too much into it. You arranged a time to show up at his place and tried not to stare as he walked away. Once he was clear of the aisle, you reached into the cart and put the disgusting can of fruit back on its shelf.

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years ago

Text

who you are (T’Challa x Black!OC)

6,281 words

A/N: Damn I wrote a lot. So I want this to turn into a series based around music, but I haven’t figured out the series title yet. It’ll come to me.

As soon as the sun peeked out over the horizon Ashanti’s eyes blinked open. It was going to be a normal sweltering January day in Wakanda, so the merchant tribe girl took advantage of the cool morning air. She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts before putting on her running shoes and heading out into the world. She stood on her porch to stretch her muscles while she watched the sun begin to peek between the trees. Once she limbered up, she took off for her daily run around the streets of Birnin Zana. Her mind cleared as she processed her dream from the night before.

In her dream, a faceless man walked into her store and browsed for a long time before turning to face her. Ashanti was drawn to him. Her arms found their way around his neck and her lips met his. She felt a buzzing all throughout her body and her lips heated up like she had eaten hot peppers. Their breathing synched up and his hands roamed from her neck all the way down to her ass, cupping her cheeks and getting dangerously close to her dripping pussy. He introduced his tongue to her mouth and her knees buckled as she let out a desperate moan. Just as his right hand slipped under her skirt the sun rose and woke her from her utopia with her mystery man.

Ashanti kept a dream journal, and this one was one she wanted to have on record to come back to later. It felt like more than a dream, it felt too real for it to just be a dream.

Ashanti pushed through her run and made it back to her house in record time. When she walked in the door she could hear the sounds of her roommates finally rising for the day. Ashanti loved living with Kwame and Binta, and there was never a dull day around the house living with the two rambunctious fraternal twins. Both of their parents had died by the time they graduated high school, and the big empty house had been left to them. When the twins met Ashanti they had been looking for another roommate to make it feel like a home again, and it was friendship at first sight. They knew they had found a good match.

“Good morning Titi!”

“Ayy look who it is! How was the run today?”

“You wouldn't have to ask that if you’d join me,” Ashanti teased knowing damn well Kwame wasn’t one for non-sexual physical activity. Kwame rolled his eyes and shoveled more plantains onto his plate.

“Girl you know I don't do all that running mess. For what?!”

Ashanti and Binta giggled as they shared a knowing look and the older twin handed her a plate full of food that she had just whipped up while Ashanti was on her run.

The three of them had lived together since college and fell into their morning routine years ago. Ashanti would rise at the crack of dawn and go for her run, then Binta would get up and make breakfast which was somehow always ready by whatever time Ashanti got back and Kwame finally decided to join the land of the living. Ashanti asked her once how she had perfect timing every morning, and the twins responded in perfect unison.

“Magic.” “Magic.”

Ashanti never asked again, mostly because she couldn’t tell if they were serious or not. She wouldn’t be surprised either way.

Per their routine, Ashanti shoveled her food down and made her way to the bathroom for a shower. She turned on the water to let it warm up, and in the meantime she stripped down to her birthday suit and admired her body in the mirror. She had a love-hate relationship with her body for most of her life, but she found that the more she saw herself naked the more she loved what she saw. Ashanti wasn’t vain though, it was a self-esteem thing.

Once she tore her eyes away from her naked form she stepped into the falling water and just stood there for a moment letting it all wash over her. She grabbed her lemongrass and black soap bar and her loofa and went to town washing her body from head to toe.

Since she was a little girl Ashanti had a fear of singing in public, but when she was in the shower she never held back. Thankful for the soundproof vibranium-laced walls, she belted her heart out to her favorites. She even had a playlist just of songs to sing in the shower. Sometimes she would build a queue, but other times she would let the shuffle button have it’s way. This was one of those times.

This perception's got me restless I ain't dreamin' 'less you're there I supply what you require I need you like I need air You give me life with all the light you're shinin' Oh, there's no question It's evident that you would compliment the love you're not havin'

So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

She carefully swayed her hips and sang along with Luke James, feeling every bit of the emotion in his words. The song made her feel warm inside like a first crush. That nervous yet adorable energy swirled around her as she reveled in the feeling of puppy love, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ashanti had discovered western music when Wakanda opened itself to the world, and she wanted to personally thank King T’Challa for allowing the joys of R&B and other genres from across the diaspora into her life. The melodies and the beats were reminiscent of music from her home country in many ways, and she gravitated towards the love songs, songs about heartbreak, and ass-shaking music. She needed to feel it either emotionally or physically.

She could’ve stayed in that shower for hours if she had the time, but Ashanti had errands to run and work to do.

After getting dressed for the day, she grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder before heading back downstairs. Binta was lying across the couch staring at their newly installed hologram tv in contempt. Ashanti noticed it was playing some American reality show about rich colonizers that try to look like Black women.

Binta sucked her teeth.

“Can you believe this? Why do they look like that?!” Binta half yelled at Ashanti and half yelled at the screen.

“Because, girl look at us,” Ashanti gestured at her and her roommate’s beautiful assets and they both fell out laughing.

“You heading into work already? It’s barely 8”

“Yeah, I need to get some shopping done before I open up. Be good!” Ashanti pecked Binta on the cheek before sliding her shoes on and heading out the door for the second time that morning.

Ashanti walked through the bazaar and took in the sights and smells. She made quick work of her shopping list and even with being stopped to say hello to every other person she encountered on the way, she made it to her store in record time. She loved the energy of the marketplace as a little girl growing up in the Merchant tribe. When she was seven years old her parents, Chidi and Bisa Mostafa, opened up a restaurant, Zana Cafe, smack dab in the middle of the Birnin Zana Bazaar that’s been going strong for twenty years. When the shop owner from across the street grew too old to run her art supply store she sold it to the Mostafas for a low low price. There wasn’t another shop like it in the market, so Chidi and Bisa tasked Ashanti with keeping it running.

Ashanti eventually saved enough money to buy the shop next door and she transformed the space into a combination art gallery, supply store, and amateur marketplace. She wanted it to be a space where artists of all skill levels could come together, create, and even sell their work. She sold her own handmade crystal jewelry and had a children’s section full of finger paints and fun craft projects. The kids loved when she displayed their art along the shop walls. There was even a classroom towards that back of the multi-use space she used for community art lessons.

Ashanti had named the space after the first person to encourage her art, her umakhulu Taj. She missed her grandaddy more than anything in this world, and she dedicated her creative space to his memory. People from all over Wakanda knew of Taj’s, it being the only shop of it’s kind in all of Birnin Zana.

Chidi waved at Ashanti from across the street while he prepared the restaurant for the morning rush, and she blew him a kiss before stepping into her shop, her happy place.

She closed her eyes and smiled a warm smile before drawing the curtains and letting the light in. She turned on her music and danced around the shop, straightening up as she went. She still had that same Luke James song on repeat from earlier.

Did I mention, I love tension? No more stressin' when we touch My salvation, my temptation I felt safety in your clutch (clutch) Come save me now, just stick around No, you ain't gotta stay long How you make minutes pass like seconds I feel like I gotta hold on (hmm) So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

A chill went down Ashanti’s spine as that warm fuzzy feeling filled her once more. Her face felt flushed and she kept grinning wider and wider as she shuffled around Taj’s, sweeping all the dirt out the back door. She went to sweep her stoop when the sight of the Dora Milaje caught her off guard. It wasn’t often that royalty made their way to the market, but she knew every shop owner would be clamoring to gain whoever’s attention. She kept sweeping then opened her shop doors wide before heading back inside.

Before she could make it halfway back to her spot at the front counter, she heard the chime that alerts her when new customers enter.

“Hi, welcome to Taj’s, what can I-”, her voice caught in her throat when she turned around and saw the king flanked by two of his Dora Milaje. She noticed two more stationed at the door and looked past them to see her nosy parent across the street staring into Taj’s to get a glimpse of what's going on.

“Kumkani wam.”

Ashanti saluted King T’Challa and a deep rumbling erupted from his chest before he cracked the most adorable crooked smile.

“Please, none of that.”

____________

Mornings in Birnin Zana were always calm and quiet until about 10am when the whole city woke up and went on about their day. This wasn’t the case for King T’Challa who preferred to start his day at 6. It was the only time he could really have to himself without interruption. He would always go for a run around the palace grounds or out into the lush Wakandan forest right as the sun poked out above the trees.

Another thing people didn’t know about the King of Wakanda is that he loved to cook. As a boy he spent so much of his time hanging around the kitchen staff they jokingly put him to work one day and he took right to it. Not only did T’Challa love mornings because of the solitude, he loved mornings because of breakfast. It was his favorite meal of the day. When he was a teenager he often cooked breakfast for his family, but as an adult it’s something he only had time for sparingly. He always had a meeting or a mission or something important and unavoidable in the way.

However, today he had the time because he had taken the day off. As king he answers to nobody but Bast and the people of Wakanda...but there are a lot of people and a lot of problems to solve so sometimes the king needed a day to himself. T’Challa trusted his sister and his cousin to keep things running smoothly in his absence,and he made them swear to only contact him if the country was about to collapse.

These would be a beautiful 24 hours.

After making his way back to the palace he quickly showered and threw on some clothes for the day. T’Challa felt relaxed being dressed-down and thought about maybe doing it more often. The royal robes were so stiff.

The king slid into the kitchen with a smile on his face, humming to some American song he couldn’t get out of his head but didn’t know the words to. He scooped up some mandazi the kitchen staff had left for him and took a bite while he rummaged through the refrigerator looking for whatever called to him. T’Challa found what he was looking for and got to work dicing and mixing and grating his ingredients. He had just thrown a pinch more of cardamom in the pancake batter when his mother strolled in.

“Mholo, unyana wam!”

“Good morning to you too mother,” T’Challa chuckled at the Queen Mother’s jovial mood.

He kissed her cheek and flipped the pancakes on the griddle. He turned around just in time to catch Ramonda taking a swipe of the batter.

“Mama you should know better. What kind of role model are you for your young impressionable daughter?”

“Hush, child”

The two smiled and settled into a comfortable silence while T’Challa sautéed up fragrant vegetables, making Ramonda even more impatient. Just as she was about to ask T’Challa how much longer until they could eat, her young impressionable daughter rounded the corner looking like she had been caught in a tornado. That was the normal for Shuri, a notoriously wild sleeper.

“Good morning mother, Gap Tooth,” Shuri yawned. “ Where’s Braille?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his little sister’s nicknames and cracked eggs into the pan.

“You know that boy only shows up right when the food is do-“

Ramonda was cut off by the doors opening and Prince N’Jadaka strolled in with sunglasses on and the same clothes they saw him wearing when he left last night.

He noticed all three sets of eyes were glued to his hungover form. He was surprised when instead of admonishing him for his obviously very unroyal behavior they all broke out into laughter. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Long night?”

“Man you already know, we’ll talk later when there aren’t sensitive ears around.”

The two male cousins dapped each other up before N’Jadaka kissed his Auntie and little cousin on their foreheads.

“Mornin�� Auntie, Rugrat.”

“Mholo Daka.”

“Topographic map.”

Even T’Challa had to give her that one.

The family of four sat down and enjoyed the home-cooked meal of spiced plantain pancakes drizzled with honey, an egg and vegetable scramble, cheese grits, spicy sausage, and fresh fruit.

T’Challa loved seeing the look of satisfaction on people’s faces when they eat his food almost as much as his family loved eating whatever he put in front of them. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship.

After breakfast, T’Challa hung around and chatted with his family while they cleaned the kitchen. They never let him do this part, and since none of the Udakus were big on relying on the palace staff for every little thing, the prince, princess, and Queen Mother of Wakanda rolled up their sleeves to do some quick manual labor. Shuri and Ramonda washed and dried the dishes while N’Jadaka wiped down the table and countertops. He finished and the two male cousins went to take a walk around the gardens.

The second they stepped outside the palace T’Challa pulled out a blunt of the finest Wakanda kush and lit the tip. He pulled the smoke into his mouth and let it float up to his nose. He inhaled and then exhaled the smoke as he felt it take effect. He passed it to N’Jadaka and started talking.

“Last night…?”

N’Jadaka took a hit.

“My nigga...so you remember that hot lil river tribe thang I told you about?” T’Challa nodded as N’Jadaka handed him the blunt.

“So I take her out, right? Tell me why, we get to the restaurant she starts acting brand new? Turns out, this whole time we been smashing she’s trying to lock this down. So I paid for dinner and had Aneka take her home-“

“So where did you end up staying all night?”

“With the waitress.”

T’Challa stopped walking and glanced at his cousin before they both broke out into a fit of giggles.

They continued to walk and talk and pass the blunt back and forth. As they neared the palace doors the blunt had burned down to the roach. The two “went for a walk” so much they had it timed perfectly.

“So what you got planned for your day off?”

“Absolutely nothing,” T’Challa said, grinning from ear to ear. “And it better-“

“Stay that way, yeah yeah nigga I know. The Brain and I got this, go enjoy your day. Do some shit you haven’t done in a while. Be lazy. Make something. Get some pussy.”

T’Challa cut his eyes at his slightly younger cousin but couldn’t deny the truth in his statement. It had been a while for all of those things and damn did he miss them.

He clapped N’Jadaka on the back and turned to walk in the other direction.

“Good idea, umzala.”

“Which one?...Aye I know you heard me witcho supersonic hearing ass…”

T’Challa just chuckled and flipped off his cousin as he rounded the corner.

“Don’t ruin my country while I’m gone!”

“I should burn it down again just for that.”

T’Challa roamed the Birnin Zana Bazaar with his Dora Milaje for the first time in at least two years. Yes, he was a busy man with very little leisure time, but the Bazaar also held a lot of memories that the king would rather not revisit. As he passed the winding staircase he sighed, thinking of his former lover Nakia. She was off living a happy life in America with her girlfriend Janelle and their two goofy looking dogs, and he was genuinely happy for her. He and Nakia had love for each other, but they eventually realized they weren’t in love and decided to split. The memories were bittersweet.

The king decided he would pay an old friend a visit. Growing up, T’Challa only had his father. His biological mother died in childbirth, and since his father didn’t meet Ramonda until he was 12, the only mother he knew as a young child had been his nanny Ada.

She was a firecracker of a woman who never let him get away with anything, and he loved her with his whole heart. She was still an unofficial member of the Udaku family with an open invitation to visit the palace whenever she wanted. T’Chaka and Ramonda had tried to offer her a room in the palace but she refused, saying, “It’s too quiet here.” After she hung up her nanny hat, Ada became an entrepreneur. She had always loved arts and crafts so she opened up an art supply shop in the middle of the Bazaar, thanks to a hefty check from the Udakus. T’Challa used to love visiting Ada’s shop, but when she grew too old to care for it anymore she sold it and he hadn’t yet seen what became of it. He decided he’d stop by the shop before visiting Ada.

People were everywhere, but T’Challa loved the hustle and bustle of the city. Many of the past monarchs avoided mingling with the public more than necessary, but T’Chaka had taught his son the value in spending time among the people. In fact, T’Challa’s favorite part of being king is when he makes his rounds to visit all the tribes.

The king and his Doras strolled through the market, periodically stopping to converse with excited children.

They rounded the corner of the main streetway and he noticed a woman sweeping the stoop in front of what was Ada’s shop. He watched the sway of her hips and tried to read her lips to figure out what song she was singing. As he got closer he could just make out her angelic voice singing over the acoustic guitar in the unfamiliar song. She had a dreamy smile on her face that made her deep dimples come out of hiding, and when she turned around to head inside the shop he noticed the thickness of her ass and thighs.

“Bast have mercy.”

His feet automatically carried him into Taj’s, and when she turned around to face him his knees nearly buckled. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

——————————-

Ashanti felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn’t believe the king was in her shop of all places.

“My apologies, your highness,” she stammered and the broom fell out of her sweaty hand.

Before she could even reach for it, the king had already lifted the old broom from the floor. He passed it to her and when their fingers brushed against each other they both felt static in their fingertips, though neither of them broke their poker faces.

“Truly, it is not a problem.”

T’Challa tore his eyes from hers and looked around the multi-use space. His eyes and eventually his body gravitated towards the childrens’ artwork along the walls, taking it all in with an adorably crooked smile.

“How long has this shop been open?”

“Coming up on two years now...your highness.”

“No need for all the formalities miss…”

“Ashanti Mostafa, my kin- I mean, um, sir,” Ashanti stumbled over her words, unsure of how to address the royal.

“I took the day off so just call me T’Challa, Miss Ashanti,” he winked and continued around the space.

“Is Taj in today?”

“No, Taj was my umakhulu. He died five years ago, so when I got this place I named it after him because he’s the one who taught me how to draw and paint and mold clay...he shared his love of art with me, so I’m paying it forward with all this,” Ashanti gestured outwardly.

T’Challa was in awe of her. He listened to her story and walked towards the artist marketplace section of the shop. His eyes gravitated towards a golden vibranium filigree choker with an intricately wrapped garnet pendant.

“These pieces are beautiful, I would love to get one for my mother and my sister. Does the artist take custom orders?”

“They will for the king.”

“Well sometimes being royalty has its privileges. Ayo, will you get the artist’s information from Miss Ashanti here?”

Ashanti couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was almost stunned to silence. The king liked her pieces.

“Actually your hi-,” she was stopped by a playful warning look from the king.

“T’Challa, I’m the artist.”

T’Challa became more and more enamoured with the shop owner every time she spoke. She was beautiful, talented, and her aura seemed to cover everything in its reach with her warm glow. He would definitely be visiting the Bazaar more often.

Ashanti rounded the counter and fiddled with her rose gold kimoyo beads before her other designs were projected in the air in front of the king.

“I thought you said you painted and molded clay. This is certainly not that,” he leaned on the counter as his Doras shared a knowing glance.

“That’s just how I started,” Ashanti explained. “I still paint sometimes when the mood hits, but nowadays I mostly craft jewelry. Oh I just got into beading, and you wouldn’t believe how sore my fingertips are.”

In that moment it took all of T’Challa’s willpower to keep from reaching out and kissing her calloused but delicate fingers.

Ashanti unconsciously leaned in closer to the king.

“So what brought you to my humble shop, T’Challa? Bast, it feels so weird to call you that.”

T’Challa chuckled, and Ashanti nearly blushed again from the deep rumbling.

“You’ll get used to it eventually. As I mentioned before, these pieces are beautiful. I would like to commission two. What is your price?”

“Two hundred a piece.”

“I’ll give you one thousand.”

Ashanti’s eyes blinked and her smile gradually crept up her chubby cheeks. The two went back and forth for over an hour over the details of the necklaces before the king bid the shop owner adieu with the promise to return in two weeks. Before he reached the door he turned around, almost catching her staring at him.

“I forgot to ask. Miss Ashanti, do you normally play the same song on repeat in the store?”

Ashanti hadn’t even noticed Luke James’ “Who You Are” had been playing ever since she opened her doors. Her mind had been clouded by the king’s powerful aura and kind eyes, and the only sound that mattered in that moment was the smoky melody of his voice. She blushed yet again.

“I don’t normally, but something had me a little distracted today,” she winked at the king. “The artist is Luke James, one of my favorites from America. You should check him out if you like what you hear.”

Her eyes locked onto his and he smirked.

“I’ll do just that.”

---------------------------------- A week passed and both Ashanti and T’Challa had listened to that same song on repeat more times than they could count. Neither one could understand how they had become so smitten with the other in a 90 minute time span.

Even the people around them had begun to notice the changes in their behavior. Unsurprisingly, the first two to say something were N’Jadaka and Kwame.

N’Jadaka slipped into T’Challa’s office after the council meeting wrapped up. His cousin had spent the last hour settling land disputes and was in desperate need of a break. They were too busy to take a walk, so T’Challa poured two generous glasses of the strongest palm wine in Wakanda. It wasn’t enough to make them drunk since the heart shaped herb running through their veins burned off alcohol too quickly for one glass to cause any damage. They’d have to drink a bottle a piece to even start to have a good time. However, they felt the effects of cannabis and psychedelics just like anyone else.

“What’s got you smiling so much? It’s starting to get creepy, you looked way too happy during that land dispute and I know you hate doing that shit.”

“I don’t know what-”

“You're really gonna lie to me? Your favorite cousin? I’m hurt.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his least favorite cousin’s dramatics.

“You are my only cousin, N’Jadaka. And besides, I really do not know what you mean, I have just been in good spirits lately.”

“Mmmhm. You got some pussy, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“You sure? Because you're acting like you got some pussy.”

On the other side of Birnin Zana, Kwame watched Ashanti glide around the living room with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Girl I know you’re not that happy about dusting. Spill.”

“What?” Ashanti giggled. “I’m just in a good mood today, it’s been a good week at the shop.”

Kwame cut his eyes at her and pursed his lips. He didn’t believe a damn thing she said. Binta told him she had seen Ashanti humming and slow dancing in the kitchen the other day, so he knew something had to be up.

“Did you get some dick? Or some pus- nah that’s a dick face right there.”

“Who’s a dick face?” Binta came in and grabbed some coconut water from the fridge.

“Apparently I have ‘just got some dick’ face,” Ashanti responded with an eye roll.

“Yeah you’ve had it for about a week now. Spill.”

“That’s what I said, twin!”

They did their annoying twin handshake and turned back to Ashanti.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s just been a good week at the shop.”

Ashanti tried to get back to her dusting, but they wouldn’t let her.

“Nuh uh girl, get to talking.”

“B…”

“We’re waiting…”

Ashanti rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck, or so her mom would say had she seen it.

“Ok, fine! This man came into the shop the other day and had me blushing like a sixth grader with her first crush. He was just so...fine, and smooth, and sweet…”

Ashanti drifted off into a daydream while the twins sat there taking it all in. Kwame was the first to speak.

“Titi, your nose is wide the fuck open. Did you get his name, tap beads, something?!”

Ashanti couldn’t admit she had a crush on the king. For one, she was a little embarrassed because she knew how foolish she looked pining after a royal who could never return the sentiments. Secondly, if she told them she would never hear the end of it.

“Uh, his name is...Amare.”

Binta’s eyes went soft.

“Amare, I’ve always loved that name. What’s he look like?”

“Like Bast carved him out of vibranium.”

Kwame and Binta look at each other again.

“Like I said...wide open. So when are you opening those legs too?”

Ashanti tried to look busy.

“I’m uh, not sure if he’ll be back. His accent sounded American.”

She knew that would get them off her case. Ever since T’Challa announced Wakanda’s riches to the world they had opened up their doors to the Lost Tribe. For the last two years, Black people from all over the globe had travelled to Wakanda, so it would be an easy cop out for Ashanti.

“Well damn girl, you finally get a man and this is how it goes...maybe one day the king will allow outsiders to move here permanently and you can get your Prince Charming.”

“Heh, maybe. So what’s for dinner?”

——————-

Another week passed and the day had come for Ashanti and T’Challa to see each other again.

Both of them were nervous beyond belief, but only one of them had someone to confide in.

“I’m telling you, T, just be cool. Plus, you’re the king, she’d have to be an idiot to say no.”

T’Challa had planned to ask Ashanti out on a date. He couldn’t get her out of his head the whole two weeks they were apart, and he took it as a sign from Bast that she was something special.

He was nervous to see her again and he hoped it didn’t show on his face.

Right in the center of the Birnin Zana Bazaar, Ashanti fiddled with the custom necklaces she made at the king’s request. She hoped they were good enough for royalty and her nerves started to get the best of her. Her hands shook and her breathing sped up. She took a deep breath then walked out her shop and across the street to her parents’ restaurant. Her mom was the first to greet her.

“Hi honey, what brings you over to our side of the street?”

“Bisa you know the girl wants something!” Chidi yelled from the supply closet.

“Hush!”

“Hello to you too baba!” Ashanti laughed at her father’s antics.

“I’m just nervous. The king is coming back today...what if he hates them? What if Queen Mother or Princess Shuri hate them?!”

Ashanti started to get worked up again and Bisa rubbed her back in slow circles. Chidi brought her a cup of tea and the three of them sat outside the cafe in silence while she calmed down.

“Sweetie, it’ll be ok. He wouldn’t have commissioned the pieces if he thought they wouldn’t like them. And he’s seen your work, how could he not like it?! If so he’s a fool.”

“Baba! This is the king we’re talking about.”

“I don’t care! Anyone who can’t see my baby’s talent isn’t worth my respect.” He kissed her on her forehead and when he opened his eyes he noticed the women in red coming around the corner.

“Someone’s early…”

Ashanti looked confused for a moment before her mother gestured for her to turn around.

There stood the king and his Dora Milaje.

Bisa and Chidi quickly stood and saluted the king, Ashanti giggled and they looked at her in disbelief.

“That is unnecessary, please.”

“We are sorry, my king. Welcome to our restaurant, we are Ashanti’s parents. I am Chidi Mostafa and this is my wife Bisa.”

“We are so honored to have you.”

T’Challa reached out and shook their hands, shocking the older Mostafas.

Ashanti wondered if she looked this starstruck last time...she concluded she probably did.

However, this time when she stared at him she made sure to take in all his features. The faint crinkle around his eyes and his frown lines reminded her of their slight age difference and the stress of his job. His big bright eyes made him look like a puppy and his gap-toothed smile leaned perfectly to the left.

“Unfortunately I cannot stay long, I have other business to attend to that I cannot get out of. I do hope to see the two of you again, but I believe Miss Ashanti here has something for me.”

“I sure do. Mama, Baba, I’ll swing by later.”

She kissed their cheeks and walked shoulder to shoulder with the king to her shop across the street.

“I have had your parents’ food before, in my opinion it is the best in all of the Bazaar. You are very talented people, Miss Ashanti.”

She was getting really tired of blushing, but it happened again.

“Thanks T’Challa. So, um, let’s get to it so you can get to your important kingly duties.”

They shared a smile.

She pulled out two large velvet boxes and opened them. Sitting among the silk were two necklaces that were more beautiful than T’Challa had imagined.

Shuri’s necklace featured a rough sapphire gem wrapped in wire hanging from a structured v-shaped vibranium collar. The stones set in the vibranium gave the necklace an ombre look as the stones grew lighter and lighter all the way down to the sapphire. The necklace would land about mid-chest on the princess, and T’Challa just knew she’d love it.

Queen Mother’s necklace was even more intricate and more like the necklace he had seen his first time in the shop. The gold filigree collar necklace was dripping with small gems hanging from every loop, with one large ruby set in the middle.

“Miss Ashanti…” T’Challa barely breathed out.

“Oh no, You hate them.”

“No, no! Quite the opposite actually. They’re beautiful, I-I’m speechless.”

Ashanti breathed a sigh of relief.

“As I mentioned before, you Mostafa’s are very talented…and beautiful.”

Ashanti gasped. There was no way…

“My king?”

“What? It is true. You are a very beautiful woman Ashanti, among many other things.”

That damn song started playing in her head and her smile pushed her dimples deeper the larger it grew.

“Thank you, T’Challa. You’re...alright looking.”

They both had to have a laugh at that one.

“Just alright?” He leaned in closer to her across the counter.

“Hm, maybe”

“Will you let me change your mind?”

“How would you do that?” She asked, leaning closer and getting a whiff of the cocoa butter on his skin.

“If you’d accompany me for a night out tomorrow evening I could show you.”

Ashanti froze and backed up. For a minute there she almost forgot who he was, but she had to remind herself that he wasn’t just a cute customer. He was the king, and he had to have been out of his Bast-given mind.

Unless this was something he did often.

“My k-, T’Challa...If you are looking for someone to play with and discard, I suggest looking elsewhere. I’m sure there are plenty of your subjects lined up in waiting for the bachelor king to swoop them up.”

Ashanti immediately regretted her words, but they just seemed to tickle T’Challa.

“Miss Ashanti, I am not that kind of man. I believe you have me confused with Prince N’Jadaka.”

Ashanti snorted. She had heard many stories about the prince and sort of assumed all royals behaved in such a manner.

“Besides I am much too busy to play the field since becoming king. Had you known me 5-10 years ago it would’ve been a different story.” T’Challa winked and noticed her look away to hide her smile. She remained silent.

“Please, it would bring me great joy to see you again. If not I will leave you alone. Just think about it.”

He tapped his black and purple kimoyo beads to her rose gold ones.

“There, now you have my contact information. It’s my direct line, please feel free to use it.”

With that he turned and left the shop. Ashanti had to pinch herself to make sure she was awake. After a minute it started to sink in that the king of Wakanda had asked her on a date.

“That really just happened.”

She stood there in a daze and was only pulled out of it when a customer walked into the shop.

“Welcome to Taj’s!”

—————

Chapter 2

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa #t'challa x oc #playlist

71 notes · View notes

sunnysviolin · 4 years ago

Note

Kel and Aubrey going around interacting with people to learn about the different cultures everywhere as they travel, wearing cultural outfits, participating in cultural activities, just having an overall good time...

Would they be good at any cultural dances? Since they're traveling to Spain first, I can just imagine Aubrey in a flamenco dress with Kel as they just dance together and enjoy themselves (or maybe Kel wearing the dress- or maybe both of them wearing dresses-)

...I kinda wanna draw them dancing around together now.

-from a videogame-world traveling anon

nonnie.....nonnie wait....if you drew something we created together I would be SO EMO WAIT!!! No oh my god like my brain literally just exploded like art?? ART??? I wanna be able to draw so bad...but I can’t I just gotta continue on w my lil writing bits....here take some more writing bits nonnie

*Singing to myself* This got lonnng againnnn I’m putting itttt under a readdd moreeeee

Kel’s parents are....less than pleased to find out their son isn’t directly going to college like Hero did, and they make that known.

They don’t approve of his choice to take at least one gap year. They don’t approve of him not continuing his education. They don’t approve of him throwing away his life for that bad girl that spent so many years terrorizing him. Even two years after changing her ways, Aubrey is still regarded as a nuisance among the town old timers. Kel’s parents tell him plainly that they don’t approve of Aubrey, and they won’t be changing their mind.

Which leads to Kel having a minor breakdown and finally admitting what he’s known his whole life- that he will never be good enough to measure up to Hero, and he’s finally tired of trying to be someone he’s not. He isn’t Hero and he never will be, but for once he wants being Kel to be good enough.

Seeing their bright positive middle child finally crack under the weight they’ve been unintentionally laying on him is...it’s painful. Kel’s parents never meant to make it a competition between their sons, they just wanted what was best for both of them.

Having Kel sobbing at their dining room table at 3:00 am on the night of his high school graduation teaches them that they might not know what’s best for Kel after all.

So...yeah the talk the morning after that is filled with a lot of awkward pausing. Kel isn’t used to sharing his true feelings, and he isn’t used to exposing anything other than cheerful hope. Ultimately they come to an agreement. Kel can go with Aubrey, follow her and his heart on their crazy plan, but he has to spend the year before they leave working and earning and not just hanging around the house

That was Kel’s plan anyway, so he’s ecstatic. He calls Aubrey immediately after, and she comes over so they can plan things out together

That year before they leave is definitely not easy. They’re working multiple retail and menial labor jobs, spending 12-15 hours a day on their feet in steamy kitchens, being screamed at by rude customers, and delivering so. many. pizzas.

At some point in that year Aubrey and her mother have the inevitable fight that has been coming her whole life, and her mother kicks her out. Aubrey shows up in the middle of the night with her things next to her. Kel’s mother welcomes her inside and gets her a cup of tea. Kel wakes up and comes downstairs the next day to see his partner curled up asleep on the couch under a blanket his mother had just finished knitting

His mother doesn’t explain anything (”It’s her story dear not mine”) but after Aubrey comes to stay with them his parents warm to her quickly. Aubrey and Kel are allowed to share the room that Hero and he once shared, but they’re adamant that the beds stay on opposite sides

((He and Aubrey fit cramped but happy into his twin bed every night, but she always wakes up early to switch beds in order to be respectful to his parents wishes))

Soon enough its the afternoon before their journey is beginning (They decided to redeye to Sevilla). They have hostel confirmation numbers for a dozen different European countries, a thick binder of plans and itineraries, and a joint account that has a surprising amount of money in it.

Turns out working 15 hours a day, taking only your eight paid vacation days, and having all of your dates be creative free dates in the five hours a week you both have off together means that you are able to acquire quite the nest egg. Kel’s parents sit them down at the dining room table, and his father is shocked to see how this year has shaped Kel.

It’s a strange thing to see your son as an adult for the first time. It didn’t feel strange when it was Hero, he always expected it from Hero. Seeing it in Kel rocked him.

They drive the two young adults (calling them kids now feels...wrong) to the airport and make them promise to call and write daily.

There’s an undeniable energy and excitement as they board the plane. He and Aubrey breathe an audible sigh of relief. They shouldn’t, but they sleep on the plane. After a year of running, they’ve earned it

OKAY SO THAT WASN”T AT ALL WHAT YOU ASKED FOR....HERE HAVE DANCE LESSON HEADCANONS

Aubrey planned for everything, so she planned that they would need at least two days to recover when they finally got to Spain. The first two days are spent in a combo of sleeping and eating fantastic food and finally being able to spend a full night in bed together instea of sneaking unsuccessfully around Kel’s parents.

She splurged and got them a private room at their first hostel in Sevilla. It was more expensive, but ultimately so very very worth it.

But day three is when they start to explore. They finally venture off of the block around their hostel and began to deep dive into the tiny back paths of the city. They meet a nice handful of locals who invite them to breakfast the next morning (Kel’s spanish speaking skills are undeniably useful to them in this moment)

And that night...that night is the beginning of the wish fulfillment she’s waited for since she was five years old. A flamenco lesson that promises an authentic experience, real outfits, and a party for all involved at the end. Aubrey was frugal with accomodations, but she spared no expense when it came to the experiences. Especially this one.

Flamenco is traditionally a single dance with one woman, but she asked and Kel is allowed to come if he likes. The instructor in charge recognizes Aubrey from her call, and drags Kel over to where another man sits with a guitar. He and the man begin to converse in Spanish, and Kel seems to be rapidly making plans. He’s fine with only watching for tonight, this is her dream

Aubrey is thrust into a room with a bunch of other tourists, even a few from her own state, and a gaggle of women who work at the studio. They show her a row of gorgeous traditional dresses, an overwhelming rainbow of frills and explosions of color.

Aubrey has let her hair go back to it’s natural color by this point, and her long dark locks catch the eye of one of the instructors who pulls her over to a corner of the rack of dresses. The instructor winks at her and pulls out a dress. It’s perfect.

Kel is also having a fantastic time. He and the guitar player who’s name is Raphael are discussing guitar playing. Raphael wants to teach Kel to play himself so “He can play for his lady when she wants to dance for him again”

All conversation stops when Aubrey walks out.

The others are dolled up as well, but Kel only has eyes for his girl. Her dress is black, hugging to her waist and her body. As the ruffles of the dress begin on her arms and her legs, the dress goes from black to a striking bright red. Around her wrists and on her neck is bright gold jewlery, gleaming against her skin.

Aubrey’s dark hair is wrapped up in a bun with a series of pink to red carnations following the curve of her hair. Her lips are tinged with maroon lipstick.

Kel is left speechless. Aubrey asks him something and Kel just has to nod and try to catch his breath. The rest of the group giggle at their antics, and Aubrey rolls her eyes at him. She presses a kiss to his cheek, maroon imprint left in its wake, and then she is over with the other girls in front of the instructor.

Raphael begins to play at the instructors insistence

The dance lesson is fun. Even just watching Kel has fun. Aubrey normally has a hardness in her eyes, a tightness in her shoulders as if she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Within minutes of the instructors careful praise and guidance Aubrey is loose and even giggling. Kel hasn’t heard a sound like that from her since they were children.

At the end the group performs the dance all together to a raucuous applause form Kel, Raphael, and the instructor. Then they all go to the patio behind the studio which has been decked out in warm golden lanterns with a table of food prepared.

Raphael begins to play again and the others mingle close to the food. Aubrey takes Kels hand and they go to a separate corner of the dance floor. They don’t dance in any particular way, just holding one another and rocking to the melody. Her hair has begun to come out of it’s tight bun, but her eyes are bright with happiness and she can’t manage to stop smiling

That night under the glow of the lanterns is the night they first say they love each other. It was a given, they already knew it, but those words are saccharine sweet against their lips as Kel holds Aubrey close to him and they spin while the music plays.

#videogame-world traveling anon #asks #anon #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #i guess #omori au #world travel au #kelbrey #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori kels parents #This is cute #I love this sm

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