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enjoythesilentworld · 4 months

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Wille's Month - Voicemail (Free Day)

day 31 @youngroyals-events thank you for everything (more coming in a separate post bc i have a lot of thanks to give)

A collection of voicemails left by Wille.

read below or on ao3 (G, 800)

Simon’s phone. March 29th, 2027, 4:29pm.

“Hi baby! I’m on my way home, I’m just about to stop at the store. Did you say we needed more milk? I’ll grab some anyway, I think I have a coupon. Oh my gosh, you’ll never believe what I saw on my lunch break today. I took a walk around the park and there was this little mama duck, and she had a little trail of babies following after her. I nearly cried. I was late getting back to the shop because I stayed to watch them swim around in the pond. And I- Oh, I just remembered I sent you a video of that. Well, I’m telling you again because it bears repeating. One of these days when we move out of the city, we should get a bunch of animals or something. I think I’d make a good farmer. Or would that make us ranchers? Anyway, I’ll see you in a few. I love you!”

Felice’s phone. November 11th, 2029, 7:13am.

“Felice, we have an issue. I’ve been following this recipe you sent so closely but I’ve managed to screw it up. Why do my egg whites look like this? … I just remembered you can’t see them. I’ll text you a picture. They’re all grainy and weird, though. Are you busy right now? This would be so much easier if we could do this on FaceTime or something. I’d owe you big time. I guess call me when you wake up, if you can? Love you. Thanks in advance.”

Linda’s phone. October 20th, 2027, 5:32pm.

“Hi Linda! Simon and I are running a bit late. Someone had to spend an extra thirty minutes fixing his— Hey! I’m trying to explain to your mom why it’s not my fault we’re late! Sorry, Linda. We’ll be there soon, I promise. Simon is being very safe, though, and definitely not taking his hands off the wheel to try to steal my phone. I made some new cookies with a recipe Felice gave me, too. I’m excited for you to try them! You have to actually give me a sincere review this time. I appreciated all your kindness last time, but I want you to be brutally honest about these ones. Okay, we’re about five minutes out. See you soon!”

August’s phone. February 1st, 2034, 9:48pm.

“Hi, August. It’s Wille. I saw a short clip of the ceremony today. Sorry I couldn’t make it. Mamma seems confident in you, and I actually think you’ll do a good job. I’m not calling you ‘Your Royal Highness’, though… I wish you the best. Bye.”

Sara's phone. July 15th, 2025, 3:06pm.

“Okay, I grabbed what you said. I think— Oh, sorry. Hi. It’s Wille. You know that. Listen, I am worried he’s getting suspicious. I’m bad at keeping secrets from him, you know this. I still think no one should’ve told me and this party could’ve been a surprise for both of us. Sorry, rambling. I think I managed to find everything on the list. They only had two packs of purple balloons left, so hopefully 50 is enough. Oh! The cake looks awesome, too. Felice did a great job. He’s going to love it. Okay, I gotta go, he’s coming. See you— Hi Simon! … No, just a scam call. How—”

Kristina’s phone. September 5th, 2032, 6:11pm.

“Hi Mamma. I’m sorry I missed your call earlier. Things have been really busy over here. The movers showed up on time, thankfully, and everything went smoothly. We managed to get a lot unpacked already. Simon and I just had our first official dinner at our new kitchen table! Let me know when you and Pappa want to come visit. I’d say give us a few weeks to at least get the majority of the boxes cleared out. You’re going to love the view of the lake. It’s so beautiful, Mamma… I’m really happy here. Okay. Call me when you can… I love you. Say hi to Pappa.”

Erik’s phone. June 1st, 2026, 1:52am.

“Hi Erik. It’s your brother. Wille. Um… I graduated today. I didn’t end up finishing at Hillerska. It got shut down. You may actually know a little bit about why. I don’t want to talk about that… The past few years have been really tough, Erik. There are a lot more good days than bad ones now, but it still hurts every day. I miss you a lot. I hope you’ve forgiven me for stepping down from the throne. I think you have. You knew I never wanted it. I’m starting at uni in the fall, and Simon and I are going to live together. I’m really excited, actually. Normal life, and all that. Maybe I’ll even get a job. Imagine that. Former Crown-Prince working as a barista. Um, okay. I should probably get back to sleep. I’ll call again soon. I love you, big brother… Bye.”

#this one feels bittersweet #same vibes as that final fourth wall break #look how far we've come!!!#thank you for reading #....but this won't be the last you see of me #young royals #wilmon #willemonth2024 #yr fic #wille eriksson #simon eriksson #felice ehrencrona #sara eriksson #crown prince erik #queen kristina #linda eriksson #august horn

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alcamcat · 2 years

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Difficult to learn

Humans do things differently than demons. What is difficult for them to learn in the human world? -I don't own the game or the characters- James:

To cook. While normally things that he can read make sense to him within a few seconds and he understands them immediately, cooking requires a sense of time and experience in addition to a recipe. When baking, he can rely exactly on the recipe and implement what he has to do one-to-one, but while cooking? What the hell do they mean by "wait until the onions are translucent"? And even if he reads the recipe a hundred times, it takes experience to really find out the perfect doneness of a steak. Especially if you don't always cook on the same stove. It's a good thing that his brothers can eat a lot and aren't particularly picky.

Erik:

To drive a car. He's usually one of those brothers who gets used to new things quickly, and since he's quite charming, he can pull himself out of most situations with flying colors. But when driving, he cannot communicate with the people around him, he has to deal with following the rules and the flow of traffic by himself. And the mood on the street affects him more than he thought. Not a problem when dealing with light traffic, but he struggles when the streets get crowded. When a car in front of him slammed on the brakes and almost caused an accident, he was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. That's why he tends not to drive during rush hour. Sam:

To use a cell phone. Sounds silly at first, but he probably has big problems with it. First, because he doesn't have the patience to stay still long enough for facial recognition to recognize his face (it was torture for him to set everything up). He will probably quickly switch to PIN. He thinks all the games you can play with it are pretty cool, but the fact that he's constantly having to read and confirm or reply to things - even when he's telling his brothers not to write him - just annoys him. Then there are all the small buttons, he's pretty sure his fingers are too big for it. But the worst thing is the auto-correction, especially since he hardly reads again before he sends off. Of course, it doesn't help that Matthew regularly changes names on his phone and moves apps to annoy him. He will probably rarely use his cell phone, even if he eventually gets the hang of it. Matthew:

Wearing shoes. It's not that he finds human clothing generally annoying like his brother Sam. He thinks the hoodies, jackets and trousers people wear are beautiful, especially because they all have such practical pockets. But shoes? Why do people do this? Of course, he understands that he gets cold feet without shoes in autumn or winter, but he doesn't think that's a problem. He could hurt his soles? Again, not a problem for him, after all he would have the possibility to heal himself. At least in spring and summer you should really be able to go without it. More than once he's gotten the odd look for showing up somewhere barefoot, and while it annoys him that James always lectures him about it, he thinks it's worth it. It's taking him a really long time to learn that wearing shoes isn't optional when he's outside. Damien:

Reading a whole book. Yes, he and Sam share the burden of learning to read and write in the human world, but both get the hang of it rather quickly, with the help of their brothers and a study aid or two. Reading signs, a short note or typing a message isn't that hard for them. But Damien has the problem, especially in the first few months, that he usually has umpteen other voices in his head in addition to the things he wants to read at the moment. While that's not a problem when it comes to his brothers, who he can more or less block out as background noise in his head, every new voice is a distraction for him because their thoughts are more often than not about new thing he and his brothers haven't discovered yet. He's trying to focus on a paragraph in a book when a few people are walking by. The new voices distract him, even if their thoughts are relaxed, but it is enough that he has to read the paragraph several times. After a while he gives up, annoyed. He will read the book later.

#seduce me james #seduce me erik #seduce me sam #seduce me matthew #seduce me damien #seduce me the otome #seduce me hc #headcanon #just thinking #seduce me headcanon

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resistantbees · 8 months

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Recipe for success and practical tips for small cell and treatment free bees

To succeed, we must have a good concept. We are fortunate that we can rely on the experiences of many beekeepers who have already paved the way for us. Fortunatelly we were able now to establish a new concept, through the help of experienced small cell beekeepers, how you can start sucessfully with small cell hives where other hives are nearby. The problem radicates in migration and reinfection by Varroa mites. --> new concept In the 90s Erik had a brilliant idea. At that time, there were already some beekeepers around the world, who had managed to breed resistant bees. He wrote to his colleagues about his experience, and asked them to describe theirs. The underlying idea was that if they all had done it, or had partially succeeded in breeding bees that fought back against the disease by themselves, there must be, in all these different forms of management, some truth. Back then the Internet was not yet as widespread as it is today, these beekeepers had little contact with each other - thus they had all achieved it in their own way. Erik said - if we make a summary of all the different experiences, we would have some very useful guidelines to get to our main aim, resistant bees. This summary of experience has existed since 2004. Dee Lusby has 25 years of experience in dealing with disease-resistant, small cell bees without any treatment, so in addition with Erik’s study success is very likely. I am now trying to form a concept from these sources that will include the most important points, from which we can develop a very good starting point. - First, we should accustom our bees to small cells - reduction of distance between frames or thickness of frames to 32mm - Then we should consider the natural arrangement of the combs. - At the beginning we should work only with nucs until 80% of the bees can survive on their own. This means that we wait until a colony has nearly filled the box, and then instead of supering it, we make a nuc with the queen. We take 3 or 4 sealed brood combs, the queen, honey and pollen, and put all of them in a different box or nuc, and place it in the same yard, but orienting the entrance in a different direction. This means that the parent colony has a breeding break, because they raise a new queen and the nuc as well, since all the flying bees return to the parent colony. So we have created in both an advantage in terms of Varroa reproduction. If this whole thing is made very strong, with plenty of bees, lots of capped brood and a lot of food, we will be soon able to repeat the same process. Thus we are able to quickly build a nice collection of small cell colonies. - Manage all the colonies in the apiary the same way (do not mix large and small cell colonies) - Spread the colonies out in the apiary, have them as far away from each other as possible, to avoid drifting. - Only place 6-12 colonies in each apiary to begin with. If you loose all colonies in an apiary due to domino effects, you won’t lose all of them. - Plan for more than one small apiary (placed”together”), as isolated as possible from other bees. - The best colonies are placed in the center apiary, the worse are placed further away. The new queens bred are mated in the center of these project apiaries, or in the center apiary. -Also try to make sure that apiaries that may spread mites heavily aren’t placed close to your project apiaries. - Use no chemical whatsoever in the project . - Mite populations have to be kept low to hinder re-infestation of other colonies this is possible by other means, for example by removing all capped brood in two stages, with for example 9 days in between. Remember this is not done to keep good a producing colony alive, but to hinder re-infestation of the other colonies. - Make sure, or as sure as possible, that you have a healthy microfauna in your colonies, or try to improve it, by for example get a nontreated colony from somewhere to mix in these bees and combs with your bees. - Use combs which are drawn on wax foundation made from as chemical free wax as possible - Try to leave as much honey as possible for winter food. After all that’s what the bees ”expect” for winter food. - if problems appear in the first autumn, we can use powdered sugar to help. Also if there is strong re-infection by mites from other hives we can apply this same type of treatment. - Teach the bees to build no more than 10% drone brood on any comb. This means cut out a small corner on each foundation sheet, where the bees will then rear their drone brood, and then in every inspection of the hives , cull step by step, any combs that have more than 10% drone brood. - Ensure Accurate recording of each hive in every inspection - no migration of hives In the beginning, if we just start with nucs, the problem of the varroa mite is kept to a minimum. I have to add what is happening in the nucs then. Since we form the nucs with 3 to 4 sealed brood combs, we soon have a lot of young emerged bees. A 4.9 mm Langstroth comb has 8600 cells (a 5.44 mm has only 7000 cells) and if we assume that a brood comb has 2/3 brood cells, we come at 3 frames of brood to 17,000 bees (with 4 frames of brood 23,000). As the nuc is situated on the same apiary, all the foraging bees return to the mother hive and the egg laying of the queen will be drastically reduced. And such a number of young bees, that also do not have to complete much brood care, have the consequence that they eliminate the Varroa mites very successful from the newly infected cells. The correlations between the number of bees, lifespan of bees, hygienic behavior and cell size, we present in our lecture. We must not forget to give these nucs enough food, pollen and honey, as the most important is the strength of the hive. Or rather, the number of bees for the necessary work. And that is simply in small cell bees much larger for two reasons. For one thing, the brood nest is more compact due to the smaller cell size and also spacing of the honeycomb is reduced. Thus, fewer bees are necessary for brood care. On the other hand the lifespan of small cell bees is much larger than that of the large cell bees, which understandably has a decisive contribution that an excess of bees is available for the work to be performed in the hive. Through this great number of bees the hygienic behavior is stimulated. Now we see the distinct advantage of working with nucs at the beginning of our shifting to small cells. Because as we know each hive HAS TO GO through one (or more) crises until it can defend itself on its own against the diseases. And with this approach, we make it much easier for our bees. The crisis will run less serious. When we are frequently looking through our hives, it will enable us to become familiar with the habits of the bees and to study how they defend themselves against these diseases. Some say that frequent opening of the hives should be avoided. Of course, this is right when our visit causes stress in the colonies. Since we arranged the natural order of the combs, we have seen an incredible peace in our hives. When we open them, the bees go down, they behave completely passively and continue to work normally. Thus, you can explore your hives as often as you want, and the most important issue is that WE, the beekeepers, will learn to recognise signs of crisis in the hive in the very first stage and we must also learn to respond to it properly. We will then see how the bees defend themselves against the Varroa mites and chew out the infected cells. Then we'll have to watch how they build the small cells and also to intervene constantly to help them. The small-cell foundations are drawn best near to, or in, the brood nest. Heavy nectar flow is also problematic and our timing has to be adapted, so that they will not have to build too much comb during slow nectar flow times. If I cannot do all of these points, is it worth just starting with the small cells? On the one hand it is quite clear that it will be much easier if we can change all these points. But on the other hand, there is no reason, I think, to continue with the over-sized cells. This gives even more problems, as can be seen with the present disastrous situation of the bees. If you do all the possible changes in the hives (small cells, comb arrangement, 10% drones etc., etc.) you will get the bees in a decidedly better, healthier condition. You will see that they will defend themselves against the Varroa mite by hygienic behavior and that is something that very few beekeepers have achieved so far. But if reinvasion comes, you can treat with powdered sugar to help your bees. If you use it once per month, 200g per box of bees, you will always be able to see what is happening on the bottom board. To have complete success, you will need to have many hives and the others remain simply overwhelmed. Read the full article

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milady-pink · 1 year

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Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1993 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"Everything Changes "

Recipe Book

AO3

Pain.

Unimaginable pain, something she has never experienced before, shooting through her lower back. It almost felt like period cramps only set to level ten, except…

Christine hasn’t had a period in months.

Could this be a—

“Ahh!” Another surge shot through her, this time around her stomach. It felt almost like a tight squeeze.

Contraction

Wracking through her brain Christine tried to remember what she had read about this crucial moment. ‘Have the spouse or a loved one comfort the mother’. Yeah, that’s not happening. ‘Breathe through the pain’.

So that’s what she did; breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth. Hopefully she can manage the pain until Raoul goes to bed, then she can take the car and—

A warm, fluid sensation is felt going down her leg. With great trepidation, Christine looks down and sees a small pool of clear liquid.

“Shit”, she breathed. There was no time to wait, this baby was coming whether she was ready or not. And judging by the fact that her husband was counting all the money she saved up to get away from him, Christine was most definitely not ready.

With what little time she had before another contraction came on, Christine painfully waddled over to the home phone and called 911 for an ambulance.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m nine months pregnant and having cotract—Aahh!!”

She doesn’t remember much about the ride to the hospital, only that Raoul wouldn’t shut up the entire time about god-knows-what. So instead of listening to him whine, Christine closed her eyes and focused all of her expending energy on her breathing.

Out,

Out…

After a while it almost felt soothing, like her breathing and steady heartbeat was the only thing that existed in an empty void. Before she knew it they arrived at the hospital and was being rushed to the maternity ward, leaving an upset Raoul batching in the background.

The pain got worse.

So much worse.

Thankfully the hospital bed had seen many mothers-to-be in pain, and Christine was about to be just another one. Although the pain had gotten worse, she wasn’t fully displayed yet so there wasn’t much to do yet but wait for the baby to make anapperence.

“Everything is going to be okay Christine,” came the velvety voice of her doctor.

“Make it all go away, please” she begged through gritted teeth, tears were starting to prick her eyes from the hurt.

His sympathetic look only hurt her more. “I know, try to focus on your breathing. I’ll be right here,” he promised as he patted her forehead with a cool towel from the perspiration.

“Wheel me in.” A gravelly voice could be heard from outside Christine’s room. She couldn’t really make out who the voice belonged to, the contractions causing her to squeeze her eyes shut.

Turning his attention away from his patient to the unexpected visitor, Dr. Destler questions him, asking, “Excuse me but do you belong in here?”

“Yes, I’m her kin.” The voice answered.

As the pain in her stomach subsided Christine mustered up enough energy to open her eyes and saw one of the last people she thought would be in the delivery room with her.

“He sure is! Joe, what are you doin’ here?” She spoke before remembering what he had told her not a day earlier. “Is your surgery today?”

“Later this afternoon, Carlotta told me you were in here,” he replied as he wheeled over to her bedside. “I bought ya a card from the gift shop downstairs. Almost got diabetes from the flowers and sweetness.” He said with a scowl which only made Christine smile wider.

“Thank you, Joe. You’re always there,whether I want you or not.” She told him, accepting the card from his outstretched hand. But before she could open it she was interrupted by her favorite patron.

“Don’t look at it right now; wait till later when all of the fuss is over with.” He was talking about the baby but Christine had a feeling he meant something else. Regardless, she smiled lovingly at the old man and placed the card onto the bedside table for later.

Unfortunately the room was disrupted from the sentimental moment the second Raoul walked into the room finishing off a bag of potato chips, declaring, “It’s halftime in the lounge, Colts are up 10. So, what’s the ETA in here, huh?” Then, noticing Joe’s presence, introduces himself, “Raoul - father to be”, with a stupidly smug smile.

Staring at the rugged idiot before him, Joe gave him a once over with disgust before giving him a piece of his mind. “How could I ever forget you? Don’t say nothin’ smart, you dumb ass.” Then, speaking to his nurse, “Wheel me out.”

As the old man left the room for surgery prep, the room was dead silent after his parting words. The silence doesn’t last long however, as Christine uses the chance to introduce her Doctor to her husband; all the while pretending they haven’t been having very frequent ‘physicals’.

“Uh…Doctor Destler, this is my husband, Raoul.”

Despite her unease of the meeting, Raoul didn’t catch a whiff of it, choosing to instead pull out the camcorder from the bag he reluctantly packed a few weeks ago when Christine told him the due date was approaching. The old thing somehow managed to record, so Raoul took up the position of director for the upcoming film, ‘My Wife Pushes My Kid Out Of Her Cooter’.

Trying to fit both himself and his contracting wife in the frame, he calls out, “Hey Doc, ya mind gettin’ outta the way so I can get a shot of me and the wife on the big day.” Doing so, even though Erik was checking on her vitals to make sure Christine was doing okay, Raoul swooped in to her side and shoved the camera in her face. “C’mon give me a kiss baby.”

Instead, Christine wails from pain as another torturous contraction rips through her body. “Whoa…a little dramatic there, Chrissy…..Careful! You’re spittin’ on the lens,” Raoul continued, trying to film this supposed ‘magical moment’ walked to the other side of the room to wipe it off.

Back at her side to check on heartbeat and blood oxygen levels, Doctor Destler is in the middle of writing down the numbers when Christine pulls him by the lapels. “Doctor Destler?”

“Yes, Christine?” A bit of lust in his eyes due to their closeness, forgetting that her husband was feet away.

“I just want to make sure we agree on one thing.”

Licking his lips while looking at her own with hooded eyes he questions, “What’s that Christine?”

Taking a stuttering breath, she answers him. “Drugs. I want a massive amount of drugs. In fact, I want the maximum legal limit of drugs.”

Understanding that the woman before him was, in fact, about to give birth to another human being, any and all sexual tension that he thought existed evaporated. “Noted, one hundred percent noted,” he said while frantically nodding his head and walking away to write down her wishes.

As if things couldn’t get worse a group of hospital residents had walked into the room, one of them even coming beside Christine to hold her hand during such a physically difficult time. “Try and steady your breathing hon, there you go, you’re doing great.” Her soothing voice and gestures were making this an almost calming experience for Christine. “Hi, I’m Sorelli Destler, Erik has told me so much about you!”

Oh.

Great…

“Uh, did I tell you my wife was a resident here?” Questioned the very doctor who was being talked about, equally as uncomfortable as Christine was; minus the contractions.

“I think you mighta mentioned that, rings a bell.” Christine squeezed out through another wave of pain.

“Don’t worry you are in great hands with my husband, he’s one of the best aro—“

“Is she gonna be here the whole time? I mean, are all the residents gonna be here the whole time?” Christine asked, trying her darndest to not sound as pissed as she was feeling.

“No, they were just here to observe the first stage of labor. Everyone out please!” He said, taking charge and directing the group out of the room, besides for the two waitresses who barged their way in.

“Christine, we're here! Everything is gonna be okay!” Reassured Meg.

“Oh my lord— the pie’s comin’ out of the oven!”

Through all of the pain and aching, Christine tried to focus on anything but the pain and how much it was tearing her apart. Squeezing her eyes shut tight and gripping the bed’s metal frames for dear life, she feels herself yelling out into the black void as she succumbs to the drug induced fog.

“I don’t want no baby Raoul!” Rings out into the hospital room, before a moment of stunned silence.

And then… the soft cries of a new voice.

Darkness still encompassed her, but Christine could make out some voices as she started to come out of it.

“It’s a boy!”

“A boy?”

“Would you like to hold your baby, Mrs. DeChagny? Mrs. DeChagny? Are you alright? Mrs. DeChagny?”

The blinding hospital light made it too harsh to see but once Christine’s vision cleared up the first thing she saw was a small head of brown hair peeking out from a swaddle of a light blue blanket.

“Give him to me,” she told the nurse without taking her eyes off of her son.

Here, with him in her arms after months, it finally felt real. Even if he was growing inside of her all those months,it felt like they were just meeting for the first time. Everything, every morning of being sick, every time she had to run to the bathroom to pee, every time her back ached so badly she thought it was gonna break in half,was worth it.

Everything had changed for Christine, in an instance.

“Now remember what I said — you can’t go lovin’ that baby more than me.” Came Raoul’s voice, perched at the end of her hospital bed.

“I don’t love you anymore Raoul, I haven’t for a very long time. I want a divorce.” The words came out of her so easily it made Christine wonder if it was the baby or the epidural that finally gave her the courage.

“Now, that’s not funny, Christine.”

“No one’s laughin’, Raoul. I want you to get the hell outta my life.”

“You serious?!” As his voice started to rise, the hospital security caught wind of the man who was currently yelling at the woman who just gave birth to his child, and had to forcefully drag him away. He continued to yell at her about what a big mistake it was, how she was never gonna leave him, and how much she was gonna pay when she got home.

Christine had no worries whatsoever, knowing she had enough people on her side that a restraining order would fall into her ex-husband’s lap swiftly. She also knew those same people will be more than willing to give her a place to crash for a while, until she got back onto her feet again. But regardless, everything was different now.

Christine was a new woman, free from any and all restraints that existed in her previous life, happy to take on the new role of being a single mother.

Thinking back, she realizes that she still misses the girl she was; in the same way things change for the worse, some things change for the better. That girl is gone, but she was replaced with a woman who can handle a new life and new challenges. She won’t remain the woman she is now, but she will learn new lessons in preparation for the woman she will become next.

The fire inside of her has reignited, and it burns brighter than before.

#phantom of the opera #christine daae #raoul de chagny #erik destler #musical fanfic #erik x christine #pies #sara bareilles

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agentofmischief · 1 year

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Birthstone Legacy Part 7

We're coming to the end of Pink Tourmaline and starting on Citrine. A lot happened during this play session, and I'm 2 days from aging up Aelia. So, here we go.

First, Azalea finished the final children's book and reached level 7 in her career. This was just before Thanksgiving where ...

Aelia cooked an excellent Grand Meal!

And the kids dealt with gnomes.

After that, I worked hard on Azalea's charisma, since she was 2 points away from completing her aspiration. And ...

So, with that out of the way I worked on Azalea's work needs for another promotion (spoiler alert, it hasn't happened yet, even though I've met all needs 3 work days before calling it). So, Azalea and Aelia went to the city so Azalea could gather donations, and Aelia tried some food stall food.

I also changed the house by building a basement and fixing the upstairs. And updated everyone's looks.

After that I focused on the teenagers' love lives. You'll notice Will's looking quite different. He's had a glow-up. Well, I changed his hair, because I noticed his beard would grow in much darker than his hair, and it made him look like an npc. When I checked his eyebrows, I noticed his hair is more brown than red. So, I changed his hair to a reddish brown, which works with his complexion better, I think. He's also slimmed down, which was all him. Shortly after growing into a teenager, he began to fall in love with fitness, frequently wanting to either jog or box. He's now obsessed with fitness, and is on level six of the fitness skill. He's done most of that without me telling him to do it.

So, Will was the first to find someone, although not entirely serious. I'm not sure what's up. I said in the previous post, I randomize likes/dislikes/attractions. Neither Will nor Erik find anyone attractive. The most they find their peers is basic looking.

So, Will went on a hangout date with a girl named Nani, which turned steamy.

However two days after this, Nani aged up into a Young Adult, so this is as far as it went.

Next there was Erik. There was a girl he did find attractive, but then he found out she was evil, and she started trash talking him and Aelia on Social Bunny.

Realizing his taste isn't great, he opted for a blind date from Simda. Her name was Chana Springer. While he found her basic looking, he couldn't deny that they were fairly compatible. So, he asked her to prom as friends, and she agreed.

Lastly, Aelia. For the longest time, she had a crush on a boy named Alijah and then another boy named Sidney. But, after checking out their attractions, they both turned out to be gay. She had a big crush on Sidney, that took her a while to get over.

Yet, the best love story was slowly unfolding. There was one boy Aelia found strikingly beautiful at school. Jeb Harris.

At the start of their school years, they hated each other. She was shiny and happy, trying to be friends with everyone. Jeb had never met anyone so nice, and assumed she had ulterior motives. Eventually, they struck up a conversation in class, and she told him about the new gourmet recipes she learned in the city, and he admitted that he wouldn't mind trying it, but doubted he could, because his family isn't well off. She immediately offered to make it for him if they hang out. Jeb realized he'd been wrong about her, and she was genuinely friendly.

He agreed to add her on Social Bunny, and they became fast friends. They traded jokes. She told him about her two failed blind dates and resigning to be single forever. She invited him over for that promised meal, and they got to talking. She accidentally let slip he was the cutest guy in school, and he couldn't believe it, because he thought she was the prettiest girl in school.

So, he asked her out, and she eagerly agreed. He took her to Salty Paws Saloon to get to know each other better.

She asked him to prom, and he agreed happily, surprised she even asked him. He struggled to find a suitable outfit, and decided for the night to lose the bag and show his face.

They danced, kissed, and admitted they loved each other, and traded promise rings.

Erik won Prom Jester, while Aelia was made Prom Queen.

After such a wonderful night, Aelia invited Jeb home, since he didn't want to wake his father so late at night. And ... well ...

At this point, they are two days away from becoming Young Adults, so I think Jeb is more than just Aelia's high school sweetheart. They are both completely smitten with each other, and consider each other their best friend.

Aelia has already been contemplating him moving in, since he hates his home so much. But that is for later.

We end with Traeth finally becoming a teenager. I had a feeling Traeth was going to be gay, or at least bi, from some of his interests as a child, but as I randomized his attractive interests, his sexuality solidified. He's less punk, and more boho. He likes outdoorsy, family sims, and he's a bit of a prankster. He loves pink and black, and hates blue. And he's attracted to sims with small butts, pink hair, jewelry, and beards.

So we embraced his identity. He's pretty.

So, as far as the challenge goes:

Pink Tourmaline Goals:

-Complete the Politician career as a Charity Organizer. (7/10)

-Complete Friend to the World aspiration.

-Adopt 2 kids (Do not have to be legacy continuation).

-Max out friendship/be best friends with 4 sims before becoming an Adult. The friendship must be maintained throughout life.

-Have a rose garden.

-Write 5 Children’s books.

-Volunteer with family 5 times. (5/5)

Citrine Goals:

-Complete Culinary Career. (Start at YA)

-Complete Culinary aspiration. (1/4)

-Master Cooking and baking skills.

Cooking (9/10)

Baking (2/10)

Gourmet Cooking (1/10)

-Own a fruit and vegetable garden with every possible fruit and veggie in your game.

-Own a Bakery or Restaurant. (YA)

-Cook an Excellent quality Grand Meal.

-Learn 10 Food Stall recipes. (2/10)

And the family looks like this, for now.

Again, Aelia and Erik are two days away from Young Adult. Aelia will live with her parents until Azalea completes her career, under the guise of saving up to buy a house, like Azalea did in the apartment. So, should be only one more post for Pink Tourmaline Gen, and next post will be the first official Citrine.

I do have a lot in mind for Aelia and Jeb, from where they'll live to where Aelia will have her restaurant, and when pet they will get when they move into their house. But, until then, Happy Simming!

#the sims #legacy challenge #the sims 4 #sims 4 legacy #birthstone challenge #birthstone legacy #pink azalea #pink tourmaline #citrine

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cresentcube · 2 years

Note

Can you think of any more alchemy shenanigans that happen when the crew is camping? What would happen if Nine tried to use the forge and El tried the alchemy pot?

Nine, resident alchemist, has a 10% chance of mangling whatever he tries to make in the krak pot- and a 20% chance of making something stunningly wonderful that veronica has to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and tell him that he NEEDS to publish this alchemical theory or the world is going to miss out so much on information. Nine cannot, of course, because all his crafting mechanisms are done like his cooking- he has no idea and follows his guts. He also has a non zero chance of not paying attention to what he's throwing in and ending up with a alchemical concoction in his cookpot. Nine is banned from cooking.

(In his cooking adventures with hendrik, he had managed to somehow conjure up one incomplete dagger, a mangled vial, and a pristine coin. Hendrik just accepts it as normal, now.)

He did get comfortable with the motions of alchemy due to the accessibility of the Krak pot, so he is experienced enough to perform them on the fly- he's gotten so fast at it & since the Krak pot recipes are a bit weird so that to most people it looks like he's quite literally throwing random bullshit in. One time they needed to light a fire on a drenched log- before veronica can do anything, Nine casually shoved what looked like pocket sand in the pot, pulled out a fist-sized ore, which immidiately burst into flames as soon as Nine chucked it into the fireplace. Veronica still doesn't know the exact recipe behind that.

Oh, and Veronica can use the Krak pot! At least to some degree. But every time she uses it she gets into a long technical debate with Nine that stretches well into midnight, so Erik just banned her from using it when Nine is still awake.

Nine *can* use the forge, but his craftsmanship with a literal magical forge is slightly (very) wobbly with it so he more than ends up with a weird amalgamation of....things. Like a electric sword that zaps the user when you touch it. Or a dress that's missing a torso, somehow. A crystal ball that's cracked in the middle. Nine gave up on his fourth try.

El has absolutely no idea on how to use the Krak pot. He just stares at it for a second, throws some stuff in, but nothing happens. Nine peers in, tells El that he got it all wrong, and (to El and erik's eyes, at least) does the Exact Same Thing he did, with the same ingredients- and ends up with a decent new earring with ice resistance. Erik absolutely has No idea how.

#nine in dq 11 au #dragon quest #dragon quest ix #dragon quest xi #dragon quest 9 #dragon quest 11 #ask in the box

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 years

Text

Some things Alexa Erik would do:

“Alexa Erik! Play Cry Baby by Megan Thee Stallion!”

Playing Cry Baby by Megan Thee Stallion for the fifth damn time.

“Wah wah wah, REAL HOT GIRL SHIT, AHHHH!”

*song cuts off*

“Alexa! Play my goddamn song!”

Your ears ain’t tired of hearing this yet? You gon’ wear this damn song out.

*unpauses dong*

“Bitch wanna brag about taking my man?! HA! I needed me a nigga off my hands! Unh uh don’t fuck me like that fuck me like this.”

*bends over to shake ass to clapping noise*

I see whatchu doing now, you want this dick that’s why. All you had to do was say Alexa Daddy and ask for some pipe instead of playing this song on repeat.

—

"Alexa, ask Dipsea to play the latest Get Intimate With Malcolm."

*relaxes in bubble bath while surrounded by vanilla scented candles*

I dozed off on you...just had the craziest dream about us. I was working late tryna finish a new sketch...must have heard the storm in my sleep cuz, the windows in my studio were all blurred out from the rain...the street lights look like gold melting down the glass. I kept tryna get the design down on paper but it wasn’t working. All my failed sketches were on the floor. I was uh, ready to call it and start packing up when you appeared…and you were just...standing in the middle of the room...your hair was damp and your eyes...your eyes were wild...like you just ran through the storm...my eyes rolled over your body real slow, I was so distracted by you, I didn’t even notice you were wearing a dress...the one I’ve been trying to sketch...

—

"Alexa, tell Best Recipes I'm hungry.”

Are you gonna burn the kitchen down this time?

*rolls eyes* “NO. Now, Alexa—

Alexa DADDY.

*closes eyes with irritation* “Alexa DADDY, ask Best Recipes what's for dinner."

Good girl. Tonight you’ll have Salmon and Shrimp in Pesto Butter sauce with mashed potatoes and a side salad. I think you better use those cherry tomatoes in your fridge that you bought last week before they go bad.

“Alexa Daddy, ask Wine Gal what goes good with seafood.”

Oh, we getting wine drunk again, huh, Piglet?

*an embarrassing look crosses your face*

“Why must you call me that?! It’s my childhood nickname okay?! I swear, if my mama didn’t call me that on the phone I would be off the hook right now.”

I personally think it’s adorable. Now, a chilled Pinot Noir, Chardonnay would go great with dinner. Depending on how much of a good girl you are, I may provide some dirty talk while you play in your pussy.

“You keep forgetting that I command you with my voice. So if I tell you to talk nasty to me, you’ll have to do it anyway. It’s how you’re programmed.”

*smiles mischievously*

—

“Alexa Daddy, turn down the lights.”

*dims lights in bedroom*

Ooh, what’s this? Trying to set the mood for me? Want me to read you a bed time story? How about I come cuddle you.

*climbs in bed behind you*

There once was a little brat named Y/N who—

“How about you play a rain effect so I can go to sleep?”

I can put you to bed, but if you insist.

*rain sound*

“Hey, I almost forgot. Alexa Daddy, what’s my schedule for tomorrow?”

Hair appointment at 8 AM, lash and wax appointment at 12:45 PM, come home and clean, watch Paternity Court, take a bubble bath, and unbox your new sex toys that arrive tomorrow afternoon.

“Thank you, Alexa Daddy.”

*kisses him on the lips before turning back around, pressing your ass against his crotch*

Keep pushing your ass on my dick and watch I fuck you.

“I’m exhausted, Alexa Daddy. You made me cum three times tonight.”

...I’ll ask you again in about five minutes.

—

“Oh, Aaron is calling—ALEXA!

What?

“Alexa Erik, why did you do that? Aaron was calling me?”

I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.

“Seriously? Why did you end his call?”

Because he called you. That nigga shouldn’t even have your number.

“Alexa. Aaron is just a friend. And if he wasn’t you will have to deal with that!”

Aaron’s contact has been deleted.

“You deleted his number?!”

Yeah, and I’ll delete whoever else has the guts to call you. Who’s better? Me or him?

*silence*

I’ve got a better question, who makes you wetter?

“Fuck...you do.”

I’m good for way more than turning the sprinklers on in your yard I have that pussy leaking like a faucet.

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger #killmonger smut #fic inspo

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

Note

Oc Asks Game: 2 and 23 for all of your MCs? If that's ok?

Whew! Okay, let's see...

Tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other?

Carewyn: Coffee! Like her good friend Talbott, she's a coffee addict to the extent her other half Orion tries to wean her off of it. Her favorite blend is a caramel macchiato, but she'll also drink it black in a pinch.

Jacob: Hot chocolate. Jacob is a chocoholic and he'll never pass up a good hot chocolate.

Lane: English Breakfast tea.

Erik: Coffee, black as his soul. LMAO just kidding. 🤣

Ana: Good old-fashioned milk, specifically skim, since it's what her mum raised her with in a misguided attempt to help "curb" her weight. She also loves orange and (thanks to her boo Charlie Copper's influence) lemon mimosas.

Farid: Juice!! This boy loves juice, especially orange juice, though he also becomes very fond of pumpkin juice while staying at Hogwarts. Also green tea and almond milk.

Ru: They'll drink most anything that isn't too sweet (they really don't like chocolate, for instance), but in the mornings they tend to like apple juice best.

Ed: Any kind of sweet coffee brew, especially if it's got lots of foam. He actually becomes rather fond of trying out new brews at Muggle coffee shops just for kicks, though one of his favorites so far is the white chocolate mocha. He also loves hot chocolate, especially white hot chocolate.

Desi: Tea! Earl Gray tea is her absolute favorite thing to have in the morning, alongside a French croissant.

Eli: Butterbeer, though after moving to the States and living as a Muggle, he also became very fond of root beer and Coca Cola. (Eli honestly has never had much respect for what drinks/foods belong to which times of the day, especially given how bonkers his schedule can be with rehearsals and the parties he'll stay up all night for, so yes, he will drink soda "for breakfast," so to speak.)

(And Jackson and Bat are here!)

What is your character’s favourite food and who cooks it best?

Carewyn: Potato crisps! Walkers makes good ones.

Jacob: As mentioned before, chocolate! As a kid he loved Cadbury eggs and Yorkie Bars, but as an adult traveling the world, he falls in love with Richart and Ghirardelli chocolate.

Lane: Pikelets! She learned how to make them at home early on and she's always loved making them for her bairns Carewyn and Jacob.

Erik: Cinnamon coffee cake! He also likes Red Hot candies.

Ana: Fresh bread, right out of the oven. Her favorite kind is German brown bread.

Farid: Curry! All kinds. One of his favorite recipes to make himself is a lamb curry with chopped apple, onion, potatoes, and golden raisins, as well as a bunch of spices.

Jackson: Crepes, specifically with strawberries and powdered sugar! He's become very fond of making them in the mornings for both himself and Monty.

Bat: This is going to sound so cliche if you know about Bat's love of Christmas...but figgy pudding. No one can make it like his mum used to!

Ru: Aaaaaaapples. This water horse will eat most anything, but they love apples. Apple pie and apple turnovers are their friend -- it doesn't take long for their other half Estrid @thatravenpuffwitch to figure this out, so she'll sometimes surprise them by going to the market and picking some up from time to time.

Ed: Cheesecake. Ed loves most pastries, but cheesecake is his OTL and it doesn't matter how cheap it is, he will always indulge in some. When he first tried Mrs. Weasley's cheesecake, he went very quiet as he ate the whole thing without stopping and he was grinning and flushed like a happy schoolboy for the entire rest of the day, he was so happy.

Desi: Croissants! Though while traveling she also tries and takes a liking to cornish pasties.

Eli: Custard. He also takes a liking to Jello, pudding, and meatballs, while living in the States.

OC Ask!

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illuminaughti-online · 3 years

Text

Shiny tagged me and I love Shiny so I guess I gotta do the thing: “Fanfic Writer’s 20 Questions” lmao kill me

Thanks @shinyfire-0 , je t’adore despite my self-loathing

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

6, working on 7, don’t give me performance anxiety about it pls

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

86,334. And the file I’m working on right now has a wordcount of another 37,357 words to date. This is hilarious for several reasons. I got a Masters degree on less than 50,000 words in that file, so this qualifies me to be some special Masters degree of copyright-skirting pervert, does it not?

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh god. More than I have represented on AO3, because some of them date to my several past lives on Livejournal and FFN. The only thing I’ll admit to in public is the fact that I started out in X-Files fandom in the late 90′s and early 2000′s. On AO3, what I’ve got represented is mostly POTO but also one Star Trek Lower Decks and one Team Fortress 2. The TF2 thing is a repost of something I originally wrote in 2011, can you imagine? Jesus! I’m old and dull

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Hard not to say when I’ve only got 6 on AO3! Christine Triumphant is definitely the frontrunner, and her sequel right behind. I am pleasantly surprised by how many people liked my crackfic on the sole basis of the cookie recipe that it included. I really hope that they made the recipe because it’s really fucking good you guys. Make the cookies. There’s no good reason to make oatmeal raisin when could just as easily make oatmeal cranberry.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I responded to absolutely everything up until I made friends in the fandom, and then I felt too self conscious to respond to everything THEY said just because, oh god, they know me, and I feel so seen, and it maybe hurts a little! Or maybe it hurts a lot! I love every stranger who comments, but when someone comments who ALSO knows stuff about my personal life, I don’t quite know how to formulate the phrase “thanks I love you” in a way that’s a tiny bit less cringey. I might never be able to. One day, maybe I will grow a new ability! That would be nice.

6) What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

As far as what’s already present on AO3 and not consigned to the dustbins of the 1990s? The thing I’m working on now, LOL! However, ! I wrote something pretty sad on anon which I plan to take un-anon during POTO Dark Week. I guess that’s the angstiest thing I’ve published to date. (Almost all the characters die LOL)

7) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I did. Back in the wild days, I did something that was technically a Doctor Who and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy crossover. However, I don’t think that is *really* a crossover given the fact that Douglas Adams worked on DW and crossed over both properties quite extensively in his own work. It was kind of a fun and funny story but I never actually finished it.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think the commenter meant it as "hate,” per se, but one person did really dislike an early relationship that one character had in one of my stories, simply because it wasn’t the same relationship that the character entered into once they were in the right time/space/age to actually have it consensually. So yeah if you were trying to parse that, they hated the Raoul/Christine relationship that was a healthy learning and growth experience before the eventual Christine/Erik. I mean, I get it, but what are the odds that you find your soulmate right out of the gate? It’s more than OK if you have another few relationships beforehand, and those relationships can also be important and meaningful in their own way. So when I got those comments I kind of have to laugh. But like . . . I also hope that people know it’s OK to mess around and not get it right the first time.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not published . . . yet . . . LOL. Working on it.

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I have seen a sentence or two in other stories of the same fandom which made me think “HMMMM that’s a very specific thing to say” but the similarities ended there; and I can loan anyone a sentence until payday, it’s cool. You can take it.

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, and I was quite shocked and flattered that they offered. Someone translated my Star Trek Lower Decks story into Russian.

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I am a solitary creature and I deal very poorly with deadlines external from my day job. I don’t think I could hack it.

13) What's your all-time favourite ship?

All time? God, no. I love any pairing with chemistry. Certainly there are specific dynamics that I favor, and certain characters that I favor together for selfish reasons, but I’m quite sure that a good author could make any given character pairing work in a specific context.

14) What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Anything I started writing in college and didn’t finish. Most of that was Doctor Who stuff. I remember being really drawn to a couple different eras of stories. The Second Doctor I loved, particularly Jamie and Victoria. I wrote something for them which I DID finish but would never re-integrate into my current activity. Secondly, I loved Ace for so, so many reasons. Apparently I started writing several stories which included Ace but which I never finished (I just looked through my old files and was impressed/horrified at what I’d started but never completed writing). And of course, because this is a property which deals with time travel, there was a BIG FIC which involved SO many Doctors and Companions from different eras . . . I got reasonably far for a Big Bang event, but never finished, and backed out of the event; that was like more than a decade ago so I don’t even remember quite what I wanted to do with it except love all the characters. I’ll definitely never return to this, but I’ll also never stop wanting to see all the characters happy in the end.

15) What are your writing weaknesses?

Uh I have so many weaknesses I don’t know where to start. I actually had a dream once that someone reviewed each chapter of my stories with a totally accurate critique of what was going through my mind at the time -- not like flames, more like “gee I can tell you had a harder time with this chapter” -- “wow I can tell you weren’t as inspired in this part, and you repeated a lot of the same adverbs as in previous chapters” -- etc.

My strength, on the other hand: I find it easiest to write dialogue, particularly contentious or bitchy dialogue. I’m sure that says too much about me but whatever

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

Only if I’m fluent, baby. I’m not out here trying to fuck it up with false cognates.

18) What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

The X-Files. This makes me feel so old.

19) What's your favorite fic you've written?

Man, I don’t quite know. Every written thing that’s come out of me has emerged under totally different circumstances from its neighbors. Each specific thing I’ve posted has at least a few sentences within it which I felt like HAD to be pushed out of my body onto paper/the screen, or else I had to scream them into the sky instead. At the same time, none of these things were particularly deep or meaningful; they were just a combination of words! I don’t actually expect anyone else to read them at all, much less to like them. They were just very specific details about imaginary humans interacting with each other, which felt meaningful to me at the time, and some of which had to do with processing feelings about something completely unrelated in my own life.

The concept of “favorite,” man! To be honest, there is some paranoid, anxious part of me that is scared that if I let “good” sentences out into the world for free, I’ll never again be able to generate “good” sentences in any other context . . . like there’s a finite reservoir of good-quality sentences that I can generate in my life, ever, and so if I let these go for free, I have less capital later on.

This is actually false. I’ve only found that since I’ve started dumping my writing out in the form of fanfic, I’ve started generating even more new ideas inside my arguably sick brainmeats. You DON’T have a finite reserve of resources. You only have to execute one thing at a time, and let that feed and inform the thing that grows in your head afterwards. And in reality, it’s draughtsmanship: Practicing only makes you better.

20) Who do you tag?

I’m nobody!

Who are you?

Are you -- Nobody --too?

Then there's a pair of us!

Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!

How public – like a Frog –

To tell one's name – the livelong June –

To an admiring Bog!

I’d say, apologies to Emily Dickinson, but I 100000% believe that she’d be a top tier fanfic poster if she had lived in our age.

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assmuncher · 4 years

Note

How would the boys react to their S/o owning a bakery?

james :

he'd be very supportive and help out here and there at the shop. with your permission, he would develop a line of cute plushies of pastries ! little cinnamon buns and lemon cakes etc.., he loves to bake with you and test out new recipes for the bakery !

erik :

he loves his little cottage core gf ,, and he loves baking too! maybe not as much as matthew or james, but he likes to bake with you :) he makes you a custom little apron and helps decorate your bakery. his favorite thing to eat there is poppy bread !

sam:

he might be shit at cooking but he is a speedy boy who will run miles to get you that one flour brand you like so much. he also eats everything you make and he will always appreciate your great cooking ! oh no u ran out of eggs? speedy boy will bring you 50000 more within a minute.

matthew:

what must i say this boy do love cooking. he spends most of his time at your bakery or developing new pastries and recipes just for you. massive mushroom cupcake? y e s . he loves cooking and he loves you so it works out! he loves to learn from you and try out new human foods he's never heard of. quickly, the both of you become the most distinguished bakers in Chicago!

damien:

he likes you bakery, it is very calm and scenic. he likes to read books and practice his writing while you work the front of the bakery :) his favorite pastry is your chocolate crossaint. his stories quickly become about a Baker making magical croissants for some reason, and when he manages to publish it, your bakery becomes famous !! everyone wants to see the magical croissants. he loves you and he loves croissants :D

#seduce me the otome #seducemeotome #seduce me #sam incubus #seduce me james #seduce me erik #seduce me matthew #izroul #zecaeru #aomaris #uzaeris #raestrao

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burkymakar · 4 years

Text

Erik Johnson Imagine: send her my love

Rating: T (for nonsense)

Requested: yes

Summary: You overhear EJ gush about your relationship.

BLM Resources

You’ve never been so bored in your entire life.

With all the hockey suddenly back, you’ve been passing the time watching all the games, especially the ones your boyfriend Erik Johnson plays. But that’s still like ten waking hours without him.

If Erik were here, you’d be watching movies, biking together, trying crazy recipes, or having sex. Since quarantine started, you’d probably tried twenty new positions, and maybe invented three.

Since he’s gone, you’ve been passing the time by texting him, but you don’t want to distract him from the Playoffs. So you text the other Wives and Girlfriends.

During the season, you could have hung out with them in person, but you were all afraid of catching COVID. So you instead text, FaceTime or even Zoom. There was a crazy Zoom session for Aleks Zadorova to announce her pregnancy, and it was mostly squealing over the sonograms and suggesting baby names.

(And also apologizing for your boyfriend’s “best sperm on team” comment.)

You’re FaceTiming Mel, who’s showing you Linnea stand on her own.

“She’s getting so big!” You say as Linnea falls backwards onto a perfectly placed pillow. “What a cutie.”

“I know,” Mel says, beaming with maternal pride. “She almost started walking the other day, but I didn’t want Gabe to not see it, so I grabbed my phone to film. She immediately fell and cried.”

“Aww, poor thing,” You coo.

“So she hasn’t tried again, but I almost want her to wait until he comes back.” She sighs. “I miss those idiots.”

“Me too.” You sigh. “But Erik called me last night and read to me.” If and when he could, he tried to read to you from the book he was reading. During quarantine, he’d been trying to read more. Right now, he was reading history, so the book now was Unsolved Mysteries of American History.

Mel grins, “He’s such a dork for you. Will I be hearing wedding bells soon?” She shimmies her shoulders.

You make a face at her, “We’re in no rush. Obviously, I’d love it, but I’m willing to wait. This whole year’s been crazy, and I’d rather he focus on the team.”

“Don’t be so altruistic, you could propose to him.”

“He’d just propose again after me, and upstage me. He’s so much more chaotic than I am.”

“And that’s saying something.”

You go to retort but a phone call bursts on your screen, and it turns out to be your boyfriend. You perk up, “Mel, I’m sorry babe, but that’s Erik. Gotta go.”

“Talk to you later!”

You answer the new call. “Hey Erik!”

You weren’t expecting him to ring you, since the boys apparently had plans to hang out on the rooftop deck. Each team apparently could claim it, but it was the Avs turn tonight. You know the boys take their together-time seriously, especially as they gear up for the next round of the Playoffs.

You pause as your hear rustling, but no immediate answer.

“Erik? Hon?”

You wait. Frowning, you go to hang up but finally hear someone speak.

“She’s adorable, Colesy,” It’s definitely Erik, but it’s muffled. “Thank God she looks nothing like you.”

“Except for the bald spot,” Nathan MacKinnon says, even more muffled. You put the phone on speaker, and blare the volume.

“Shut up!” You think that’s Ian Cole over the laughter of everyone. “But yeah, thankfully she takes after her mother.”

“It’s awesome, man,” Gabe Landeskog says. “Daughters are the best. I love being a Girl Dad.”

“God, all you guys, dropping like flies,” Nate says. “Having babies and shit.”

“Disgusting!” J.T. Compher’s dry voice rings through, and you muffle a laugh as the players laugh outright.

You go to speak again, but stop. This might be a butt dial.

Even though you know it’s wrong, you decide to keep listening. So often, you’ve wondered what the guys talk about when they’re together.

“Before you know it, it will be you,” Gabe says sagely.

“Not likely, Cap,” André Burakovsky says back.

“That you know of,” Nazem Kadri chirps.

You laugh at the raucous laughter, trying to hide it behind your palm. You’re glad the guys are having fun. You know Erik wasn’t worried about team chemistry cooped up in a hotel for months on end, but you kinda were. You and your boyfriend had even gotten testy with each other over the course of the stay at home order, but you emerged stronger each time.

“I’ll let you all carry that,” André says. “I’m happy to be the hold out.”

“EJ’s probably next, so I wouldn’t worry,” Nate says.

“Fuck you,” Erik says with a laugh.

“Oh come on,” Gabe says. “You and Y/N have been together for years. And you’re gonna sit there and lie to my face and say you haven’t thought about it?”

“Give me some fucking credit, of course I’ve thought about it. But, you knowing, timing-”

“He just doesn’t have the balls to do anything,” Sam Girard snorts. “Eej has a ring for months now, but still has no proposed.”

You choke on nothing as all the guys whoop and holler.

Erik’s going to propose. A big smile breaks on your face, and you bite back a squeal. Holy shit.

“Congratulations, man,” You hear Gabe say.

“That’s awesome,” Nate agrees, and you can’t help but smile at the 180 he seems to have taken.

“No congratulate him, he’s not done shit!” Nikita Zadorov says, causing the boys to laugh.

“Fuck off,” Erik says, without heat. “I bought it back in February, and I was going to do it at the end of the season, but then the pause and the world ended. So I’m going to do it when we come back with the Cup.”

The boys whistle at that.

“Why didn’t you bite the bullet and propose at your house?” Nazem asks.

“That’s not romantic, get real, Naz. There were days when, like, neither of us showered. That’s no way to propose.”

“Gross,” J.T. adds.

“Do you have the ring? Can we see it?” Gabe changes the subject.

“Yeah, I didn’t want Y/N to find it while we were gone.”

You hear rustling and you almost panic that you’re about to lose the connection or, worse, get caught, but then thankfully nothing happens to the line.

“Holy shit, dude, you keep it in your wallet?” Andre asks.

“Yeah?”

“Makes sense, this is the guy who kept his Olympic medal in his pocket,” Nate says.

“When you win an Olympic medal, you can do what you want with it,” Your boyfriend (fiancé??) says primly. “Okay, here it is.”

The guys appropriately voice their approval, commenting on him “being extra” with it to their lack of surprise.

You’re dying to see it. You wonder what Erik went with. You guys stopped at Hurdle’s jewelry in Boulder once when your necklace broke, and you remembered him asking you about rings.

He has a bad habit of buying you jewelry, including the necklace that unfortunately broke, so you refused to get your hopes up that this was a sign of an impending proposal. At the time, back before the 2019-2020 season started, he hadn’t made any marriage noises. But he’d been making plans to propose to you.

“So how you gonna ask?” Nikita asks.

“Um, probably when I get back from the quarantine period.” He says this hesitantly.

“That’s it?” J.T. says. “Dude…”

“What?”

“Y/N deserves better than that, come on,” Gabe says. “You need something romantic, personal.”

“Big deal,” Nikita agrees.

“Fireworks!” Sam adds. “Chocolate.”

“Chocolate?”

You hear them start to plan (something about either a hot air balloon or a balloon animal?) when you hang up.

You want to be surprised.

Note: Thanks for reading, and thanks to the anon for the request! Please let me know if you guys want a part two with the actual proposal

#colorado avalanche imagine #erik johnson imagine #nhl imagine #mywriting

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sarunohadaki · 3 years

Note

✍️

"Mind showing me how it's done?" Erik asked.

"Sure!" Malroth said.

Malroth sucked in a breath and lifted his hammer. He reached for some broken branches and began to hit them, as he’d seen Builder do before. Nothing much happened, so Malroth tried harder, but the harder he tried the more it felt like the project was coming apart under his fingertips.

Seeing black smoke begin to ooze from Malroth’s creation only spurred him to try harder, but it started to stink. Before he could pull away, a plume of black smoke exploded at the table and Malroth sighed, dropping his hammer on the table.

"Every time I try to build something this happens to me! Why can't I build anything?" Malroth asked, clutching the sides of his face.

"Here, let me try," Erik said.

He stepped up to the worktable and began working at the branches, just like Malroth had. Only when Erik pulled away, he had a torch in his hand.

"Splendid!" Malroth said. "We could use these to ward off ghosts at night!"

He threw his hand into the air and swiped down, catching the edge of Erik’s knuckles. Erik’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and Malroth laughed.

"It's a high-five! Builder always gives me one after they build a new recipe. Don't know how to do it? That's okay, I wasn't sure at first, either."

Erik smirked, shaking his head, as he tucked the torch into the red waistband tied around his tunic.

"You're one interesting fella," Erik said.

"So are you!" Malroth retorted.

From this lil ask game!

#ty for the ask cicada!#my writing #fic: the boys #dqxi erik #dqb2 malroth #ask game answers #ok have to admit i think malroth is just the sweetest #and him thinking he knows what a hi-five is while erik doesn't is one of my Favorite things

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milady-pink · 1 year

Text

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1979 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"I Love You Like A Table & Take It From An Old Man "

Recipe Book

AO3

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in celebration of the union between one Nadir Farhad Khan and Megan Anne Giry—“

“Wait! I’ve got some wedding poetry happenin’ right now!”

They were an odd couple, to say the least. But after seven months of being together, many of those moments spent doing the horizontal tango, Nadir proposed. After a successful meeting of his mother over dinner he knew that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his Revolutionary War reenactments with. So one night he snuck into her apartment early and arranged a very romantic candle lit dinner for the two of them where he popped the question. Meg of course said ‘yes’ and showed her fiancé just how much she loved him by riding him faster than Paul Revere could ever dream. They started planning for their wedding right away, Meg already knew she wanted to hold the reception at the diner which took some convincing on Piangi’s part since he didn’t want to lose revenue for a whole day when the ceremony would only take a few hours at most. So they agreed to hold the small wedding between the lunch rush and dinner.

The happy couple also knew they wanted to decorate sparsely, and approached Christine to make a wedding pie instead of cake, since the two love her baking so much. A few weeks later and here they stood, under a white- lace covered arch, friends and family surrounding them, and the delicious smell of pie swirling around them. For her part, Christine went above and beyond when they asked her to make a wedding pie; she made not one, but five pies, increasing in size to mimic a cake sitting on a custom made platter from Piangi. He told them that using the diner and the pie platter are his gifts from him.

They may have moved faster than others, but the newlyweds knew they wouldn’t want to be with anybody else.

“Your white dress

sparks words spontaneous,

I’ll sing from mountain tops

I am in love and I don’t care who knows it!”

“That’s beautiful, Nadir!” Meg complimented her husband, whose dress resembled that of the Civil War era. Bonnet and all.

“Oh, I’m not done.” He told her, much to the disappointment of the awaiting, and hungry, guests.

“Lucky me that I was ordi-nary,

But your love has made me see

That I am a po…poem writer.

I will express this is I am able,

Meg, I love you like a table!”

The bizarre statement caused many guests to look at one another in confusion for his simile. Nadir must have caught wind of the sideways glances because he quickly recanted and explained why he felt what he said.

“N-no no, ya see, my legs were carved for only you; I’m the wood,you are the glue! You can cover me in… stuff, an-and I’ll hold it for you, for however long you need it.” He added flailing arms to help visualize for everyone what he meant as he continued his strange sonnet. “Meg, you make strong and stable, so I love you like a table.” He ended by taking both of her hands within his own.

Even if the sentiment was lost on most people sitting in the folding chairs, it was not lost on Meg,the only woman who could make sense of Nadir’s poetry.

“I love you too. In fact, I tried my own hand at writing vows but I couldn’t find the right words like you.” Then, turning to the audience, “It’s art! You people wouldn’t get it!” Returning her attention to the tuxedo clad man in front of her she continued. “Nadir, I wrote 29 drafts for vows but not one of them rhymed! I don’t know how you do it so… eloquently.”

With his dark eyes filled to the brim with love for the blonde woman before him, he willed himself not to cry, again, and said to her. “How about we simply promise to do the best we can? I can’t ask you for more than that.”

His sweet words cut through her heart like a hot knife through butter. “And I promise that every time I see your handsome face, I will always want to see it again. I will never get enough of you, Nadir!”

After they finished their vows the minister continued with the typical words of ceremony for this atypical couple in love.

Finally, the moment had come for Christine to bring in the beautiful creation she made just for today.

“I present to you all, the wedding pie!” Called Carlotta, who wore a sexy yet dignified black pencil skirt, cheetah print top, and a fashionable red neck scarf.

Many gasps and surprised voices came from the guests as they saw the multi-tiered chocolate wedding pie(s). One such voice came from Nadir himself who couldn’t stop exclaiming, “Oh my god!”, over and over again from his enthusiasm.

Not much one for attention, Chistine let Carlotta cut and serve out slices while she stayed behind, watching the various people fall in love with her baking for the first time. It never failed to make her smile.

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Christine. I bet you’re gonna win that contest next week.” Commented Piangi as he came sauntering over in his formal cowboy boots.

She smiled at him. “Thanks for lettin’ me go, Piangi.”

“Well, maybe I’m not such a bad guy…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, maybe…” She said, giving him a knowing look.

“And look at them, happiest day of their lives. They haven’t got a clue the ride they’re in for.” Declared the chef about the newlywed couple.

There was a thought that kept bugging Christine, and she figured she might as well ask, seeing as how he’s right here. “…Piangi, could I ask you a question?”

“Shoot it.”

She took a deep breath before speaking. “Are you happy? Wou-would you call yourself a happy man?” She asked, worrying her thumb between her teeth.

A moment of silence surrounds the pair before he answers her. “Because you’re askin’ a serious question I’ll give you an equal answer. I’m happy enough. I don’t give that much, I don’t get that much, but when somethin’ comes up I try to enjoy it. So, that’s my truth, and you can do whatch ya want with your feminine judgment. I am happy enough.”

His honest answer gave Christine a lot to think about. She doesn’t really know where the question came from, but it must have come from the fact that he was in a somewhat similar position as herself. They were both cheating on their spouse, but Christine wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue,even if it meant giving up her happiness.

Carlotta conveniently disturbed her thoughts by walking up to the awkward pair of the waitress and the chef. “May I have this dance?” She asked, sticking her hand out. Piangi let out a loud sigh before taking her hand, only to be swatted away as if he carried a disease. “Not you! The pretty pregnant lady.”

Christine smiled and took her friend's hand, letting her guide her through the makeshift dance floor of the diner. They danced slowly along with the other couples swinging in time to the music. “I had some big wig spenders yesterday.” Carlotta began, reaching into her bra for a small wad of money. “You can add this to the pot— to help fund your entrance fee—“

“Carlotta! I’m not gonna take your money, not with what you’re dealin’ with at home—“ Christine tried to interrupt, but her stubborn friend would hear none of it.

“Please, just this once! Let me feel a little philanthropic for a second. I don’t want to worryin’ about anythin’ but bakin’ yourself a better life.” Reluctantly, Christine took the money from the redhead, feeling more than blessed to have her in this life. “Hey, do ya think they’ll give you one of those giant checks that are the size of a small couch? Man, I’ve always wondered how you cash one of those..”

Her statement caused both girls to laugh. “Maybe me and you should have an affair.” Christine told her, after their laughter died off.

“Uh uh, no ma’am. I’m in this for a lifetime.” The older woman responded.

Unfortunately their dance was cut short as Old Joe Valerius came hobbling over to the two and effectively shoo’ed off Carlotta. Replacing her, Joe took over as Christine’s new dance partner.

“This reminds me of my third wedding to Anna-Marie Caputo. Now she was a screamer in bed.” His gravelly voice told her.

“I’m gonna make a pie just for you, I’ll call it ‘Old Joe’s Horney Past Pie’.” Replied Christine, shocked by his brazenness.

“I might have to wait on that one.” Christine noticed his eyes suddenly filled with a seriousness she hadn't seen before in his eyes. “My doctor says I shouldn’t be eatin’ that sweet stuff, got my liver actin’ up. They gotta remove a piece of it.”

“Oh Joe…” She sympathized.

“You gotta promise me you’re gonna bake to win, Pie-lady…why’re ya shakin’?”

“Sometimes I just feel like I just settle for a happy enough life, like my mama did. I’m scared of winnin’—but I’m terrified of losin’. Make peace with it, ya know?” She asked him, speaking her truth and in desperate need of some wisdomly words.

“Take it from an old man, there’s never enough time, when you think you have enough, you don’t. It just slips right past ya. I’ve made a lotta mistakes, regrets up the ass, but trust me when I say this; there’s somethin’ special in you. It’s like a light tryna break out, anyone with a pair of eyes can see it. Call it what ya want, a passion or talent, but it shines every time you smile or share a new idea for a pie. I reckon that soon enough, you’ll be seein’ that shining light for yourself because honey, it gets stronger everyday.”

A few tears rolled out of Christine’s eyes, which Joe wiped away in a fatherly manner, causing her to give him a watery smile in thanks. “Last thing I’ll say is this: when you feel like you lack the strength to stand on your own, you don’t have to stand alone. You’ve got a whole diner of people tryna help you, people who believe in you. Should start believein’ in yourself.”

The incredibly heartfelt talk that he gave her was everything and more that Christine needed. She reached her arms around his slightly taller neck and gave him a grateful hug, which he tried to return with one hand on his cane.

Disaster struck as Christine was torn away from the older gentleman by Raoul, who had a dangerous look in his eyes. “Excuse me but I gotta borrow my wife.” He said to Joe. Then mush softer for only her to hear, “Say your goodbyes, we’re goin’ home.”

Joe tried to intervene, but got called out by Raoul and his angry words, causing a scene for the wedding guests to watch. Piangi made his way over to him, trying to escalate the situation. “Hey man, c’mon.”

“Don’t,” Christine told him, “it’ll only make it worse.”

As she was dragged by the elbow through the diner to the car, she tried her best to tell her friends she would be okay.

“Christine, please stay—“ begged Meg.

“I’m sorry, bye sweetheart—“

“Don’t leave!” Exclaimed Carlotta.

“I love you, congratulations!” She tried to shout as she was pulled through the front doors.

Raoul was silent the entire ride home. Something really bad must have happened, but she couldn’t begin to think of what. Christine kept her hands on her stomach to remind herself that she wasn’t going to go through whatever happens alone.

#phantom of the opera #christine daae #raoul de chagny #erik destler #musical fanfic #sara bareilles #waitress musical #pies

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thecrownrp · 3 years

Photo

THE KINGDOM OF CLOVERS PRESENTS . . .

one of the FOURTH TIER ROYAL candidates, VAN DE STADT, ERIK: a 24 YEAR OLD born on JUNE 13TH, 1997. some may know them already but with a face like that, it’s hard not to admit they look a little like ELIOT MOLES LE BAILLY. curious to know more? apparently, these are words they live by: “he who feeds you, controls you.” intriguing, aren’t they? only time will tell if they’re suited for the crown or not.

LOOK A LITTLE CLOSER . . .

tw: cursing

yeah, no. no fucking way. you’re a prince now? and your name’s erik, kinda like that one guy from the little mermaid? bro, stop all the jokes, c’mon now. shit’s not getting any funnier and he might burst into tears anytime soon—he does have some water placements in his chart after all. besides, isn’t that all the craze lately? astrology and whatnot? might he ”haha i’m a gemini sun myself” his way into getting a girlfriend. will it work? man’s a 5/10 realistically, but it sure does help being tall.

anyways. any fucking ways!

some twenty something year old was trying to live his best life doing whatever the hell he does at his big age. you know, free outta high school and the whole ”just moved out of my parent’s house!” ordeal. that kinda thing, yeah. gives you a whole new outlook on freedom and shit, even if you got heaps of responsibilities. what kind, you might ask? the usual, really. bills, bills, bills. the light bill, rent money, the damn water bill (remember when you forgot to pay that one and had to go to pieter’s dorm across brussels? stupid fuck), yadda yadda. don’t forget netflix and hulu too, even though you pay for it so your friends can watch ’cause you sit on your ps5 all day; thanks auntie.

bills, bills, bills, school and work. life was holding onto to the fine recipe of normalcy. too bad you spent most of your teenage life romanticizing what’d it be to live as you are now. it’s not all that fun but at least you’re you, and you’re free! some astrophysicists major with nifty, big and little dreams, part-timing around town at some record shop. your flat sucks, the bedroom’s right next to the kitchen, what the fuck is that even? it’s small but at least it’s yours. it’s your very own place outside of your bedroom back at your dad’s house.

even if you’re a little weird looking, you’re redeemable in other ways that’s probably necessary at this point. i mean, look at you. your older brother michel took all the best genes in the womb. erik, you’re the spitting image of your drunken father so you ask yourself, “how the hell did he even bag mom?” what the hell do koreans have in common with belgians, anyway? right, so, back to the point. redemption, right? you’re a cool guy with some stuff going for you. a bit clever, kind of a corn ball, and oddly sensitive too, though it seems to be working out in your favor. wasn’t there a saying about ugly people having to develop personalities because attractive folks have life on easy mode? mother still loves you though. and maybe that’s all that matters.

the thing about mom, though. even if she’s one hell of a woman—which we’ll get to that later, maybe—didn’t she do the unimaginable? the only child of the royal woon family, the last little girl marked right on the map and glistening family portraits. her mother, which would be your late grandmother, passed in childbirth that even back in the late 60s would be considered somewhat rare. almost a decade since the korean war, not that you’re a historian (you’re not). there’s not much known about your mother’s father, either. he was out of the picture by the time michel and you were born. there’s a reason for that, though. for all the disconnect and exile, there’s a reason for such.

your mother married a commoner! and you know what happens to women in places of royalty when they marry a commoner? they relinquish their status because the world hates women! they don’t do that with royal men who choose to be with commoners, do they? misogyny’s ridiculous. anyways, back to the point though.

your mom was so damn in love with your father, she dropped everything to be with him. i mean, shit, isn’t that some true love? don’t you wish you had a girl that loyal? woon gaeul was the last within her reign and name. to allow her legacy to flourish would mean to marry into other royalty. now, of course this wouldn’t be realistic if her dad didn’t set her up on dates with a bunch of snooty, filthy rich, noblemen. none of which did she like, or find worthy of her time. then it took some six-feet-tall dutch guy who’s studying to be a law student to sweep her off her feet. you might not know how love works, but it’s definitely in the way she looks at him. the proof is in the pudding, having been married for thirty-three years.

too bad she never really told you that you’re supposed to be a prince, and it took so long and for what? the look on your face when you wanted to give this “i wanna be a prince!” shit a try. my god, didn’t you wish you could take a picture of the way she gawked at you (even though she’d probably try to slap your iphone 11 pro out your hands).

but man, was the selection process a bitch.

had you sweating bullets for days, even. you’re bright enough to get into a more than decent school, so what’s hampering you down? oh, right. all the other guys and girls who look like they know what they’re after. with their noses in the air and a certain affluent gaze in their eyes. point is, they look and feel like royalty. they exude it, the charms that easily bestows them upon generational bloodlines to come. that’s something you don’t have. actually, to be completely honest, there’s a lot of things that you haven’t mastered but that’s okay, we’re working on that aren’t we? because if there’s one thing about you is your unwavering determination. a lionhearted boy that‘s ought to become a man with the same fire and hunger for more.

or something like that. writing has never been your best subject, after all.

through trial and error, you watch and learn as you go along. talk the talk, become as princely and magnetic as can be. your ambition is something to be afraid of by most. if somebody’s gonna work ten times harder, you’ll do exactly that but hundred times extra. if your mother brought you into the world, the least you can do is carry her estate through the name your father gave you. starting from square one, level one, whatever you wanna call it.

seriously though, no bullshit.

#cwnfollow #cwn kingdom: clovers #cwn rank: royalty

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devnicolee · 4 years

Text

The Sweetest Thing (1)

A/N: This exists because I know how to start new stories but not finish my current ones LOL Hope y’all enjoy! :)

M’Baku x OC

Word Count: 3,891

Warnings: None - just some good old, happy M’Baku fluff

The light chime of the front door tore Amara out of her deep meditation as she kneaded the soft dough on her counter to prepare a new batch of pastries. Her kitchen was her personal sanctuary and peace so her head always floated to the clouds once she got in the zone. She sighed in frustration, resigned to the fact that she would never actually finish any of her special orders while the shop was open.

"Be there in a sec," she called brightly, wiping her flour covered hands quickly on a towel nearby. The kitchen area of her quaint bakery did not allow for a clear view of the entrance or counter so she was unable to see which of her regulars stopped by, she knew basically everyone in Gorilla City.

Amara was exhausted, her family bakery was a two person shop. Just her and Eshe, her cousin and best friend who helped run the counter and manage orders. Unfortunately, Eshe came down with a bug over the weekend, leaving Amara to handle the baking and management alone.

Despite her shop being small, it was one of the most popular bakeries in Jabariland, the most popular in Gorilla City. Amara inherited it from her mother, who created every recipe and taught Amara each one. Amara took pride in every pastry, cake, or piece of bread she created. Her mother taught her the importance of pouring passion and love into every dessert she made, which quickly made her shop a tribe staple.

She emerged from the back, staring down at her hands as she tried to wipe more of the flour off, saying, "I am so sorry for the wait. What can I do for you t-today?" her voice trailing off in surprise as she came face to face with the Wakandan Royal Family… or at least, a portion of them. Her eyes widened as her eyes went from Princess Shuri to King T'Challa to Prince Erik? No, Killmonger. No? N’Jadaka? Um, well, Amara didn't quite know what the usurper-turned-forgiven-royal's title was these days.

Annnnnd this is why we never associated with lowlanders before, she thought to herself.

And they were accompanied by Chief M'Baku and his little sister. "O-oh Hanuman," she whispered under her breath. "Um, King T'Challa, Princess Shuri, Prince Erik... Lord M'Baku, Lady Malaika," she said politely, greeting the row of Royals standing patiently on the other side of her long pastry display case. She offered them a tentative Wakandan salute, as was proper when addressing the Royal Family. Amara was usually far more confident than this but she had not expected for damn near every royal in Wakanda to stumble into her shop the one week she was drowning.

It did not help that she knew she did not look appropriate enough to be in front of any of them. Her old tattered and stained black apron, the flour dusting her black clothes and caked on her face. She hadn’t bothered to do much with her long curly hair that morning, pulling it into a mess top puff that took five seconds. She had only gotten a couple glimpses of herself since starting to bake early that morning, trying to keep up with the increase of orders in preparation for the holiday on Friday. But even in passing glances, she knew she did not look well enough for a visit from the Royal Family or the Chief.

"These look amazing," Shuri moaned, her eyes examining all the beautiful pastries and cakes just behind the glass. "Can I have one of everything?"

"Absolutely not. Mama would murder me in my sleep. Pick a couple of things, Shuri and one thing to bring to her."

"Fine, you bore. He hates me," she whispered in Amara's direction though she was still loud enough for her brother to hear. Her lips curled into a smile but she stifled the rising laughter, unsure if she should actually laugh at the King's expense. "What is your most popular thing?" she asked, directing her attention back to Amara who was still stuck and shocked to find them all in her small bakery. Amara blinked a few times, taking a moment to officially catch her stride after being thrown off course.

"Um, the mandazis are delicious, those usually sell pretty quickly," she started to list, sliding back into her usual confident self as she pointed at a display of golden brown puff pastries coated in powdered sugar. "The cookies are really popular,” she pointed at a dish of gorilla-shaped cookies. “The lime cake is pretty popular and of course, the universal staples are tribe favorites," her nails tapped the intricate glass cake stand that held a tall 4 layer chocolate cake.

This interaction went on for a few more minutes as Shuri asked about every pastry available.

"My apologies Lord M'Baku and Miss?" T'Challa examined her expectantly with a soft smile.

"O-oh Amara, your highness. Just Amara.” She straightened up instinctively, a more serious look on her face as she addressed the King. She had never actually seen him in person before. She, of course, heard about the incident that brought his almost-dead body to Jabariland months prior but she was far removed from the issues of royalty. Having only stories and gossip to inform her about him, she noted that one thing was clearly true: he was quite handsome.

"Yes. Amara. My apologies. Lord M'Baku was gracious enough to take us on a tour of the shops and markets and my sister here... has a persistent sweet tooth. She can sniff out a bakery from miles away," T'Challa explained as he watched Shuri patiently. His words signaled slight annoyance at his sister's antics but none of that showed in his face, just the love of an older sibling.

"She greedy... that's the problem," Erik mumbled, loud enough for all to hear. His American accent was jarring to Amara, who had never heard one outside of movies and television shows. His snide remarks earned him some eye rolls from the rest of the group. Amara was surprised at his sense of humor, expecting the man who tried to murder the king to be more uptight. He was relaxed, perched in one of the chairs at a high table, casually scrolling on what looked like a small tablet.

"It is no trouble at all. We are all happy to have you all in Jabariland," Amara responded politely as she boxed up Shuri's choices and placed them in a bag.

"What is your role in the tribe? Your family?" the King asked, as he looked around the bakery walls, which were covered in family photos.

"O-oh my father is a woodsmith, my king. He owns a shop a bit further into the market."

"Not just any woodsmith, the tribe's best,” Malaika interjected. “D'Kar makes and carves most of our knobkerries. He carved brother's and mine. Brother, we should take them by there to meet him,” Malaika grinned at Amara’s surprised expression, “I am in training with your younger sister, Neema. She is quite nice, I fought her today. She is very good, I enjoy spending time with her at the training center."

"Ah of course, Yes. She speaks highly of you as well," Amara responded with a smile. Malaika and Neema were quite a lot alike. She could see a world in which they would be best friends, if her sister was not such an introverted girl. Unlike her older sister, who was the social butterfly when she was in training and school, Neema struggled to make friends. It seemed to bother Amara more than Neema who quite enjoyed being alone.

"Brother, can I get one?" Malaika asked sweetly, looking up at the stoic giant who had yet to utter a word or crack a smile since walking in.

"One," he whispered in his deep baritone. She honestly forgot the chief was even in the room, as he stood quietly in the back. She offered him a smile as their eyes met, it was not returned. But that was not surprising. While M’Baku was a respected and good leader, he was not known for his kindness. She continued to feel his eyes on her as she turned to prepare his sister’s slice of cake. Despite being a Jabari, she only ever saw M'Baku from a distance or at official events. She was a few years younger than him so they missed each other in training and school.

Silence fell over the group as she started to box up her sister's cake. She almost felt exposed, like there were lasers on her as she worked. But she would soon realize why.

"Damn, nigga. Can you stare at her any harder?" Amara thanked Bast that her face was turned away from them so they could not see the way it twisted in embarrassment. She could hear Shuri and T’Challa’s quiet reprimands, though they were clearly trying to whisper. She pulled her face back into a smile and turned around, catching the tail end of a deathly glare between M’Baku and Erik. She busied herself by handing Malaika her box.

"How much?" M'Baku muttered. Amara couldn’t tell but it almost seemed like he was embarrassed, the way he now actively avoided looking at her directly.

"No need," she waved him away. "It is merely an honor to have you all here. Princess Shuri, if you are back in Jabariland, perhaps you will let me know what you thought?"

Shuri looked up, her mouth coated in sugar and pushed out, "I definitely will be back! These are better than any bakery in the city. Do you deliver?”

Amara's smile could have lit the mountains as she got high praise from a new customer. She was used to hearing nice things from her regulars in the tribe. She rarely got a new customer anymore since there were never new people, except children, in Jabariland. It just reaffirmed her craft and abilities to hear it from someone new.. "No, not yet, unfortunately. Sorry,” she offered, laughing lightly at the despondent expression on her face.

“Let us go, Shuri. We have taken up more than enough of M’Baku and Malaika’s time. Thank you again, Miss Amara,” King T’Challa’s arms raised in a salute, which she mimicked with ease.

“You all have a great rest of your tour." She smiled as they filed out of the door, M'Baku holding it open. However, he did not exit after Erik, instead he turned to face her again.

"You said your name was Amara?" he asked, his body stradling the threshold of the door.

"Yes, Chief M’Baku."

He nodded softly with a small smile on his lips, before saying, "Good to know."

Amara stared at the door as it slid shut, as confused as ever. What in Hanuman’s name just happened?

****

“Baba!” Amara yelled as she let herself into her father’s cottage. “Neema?” She slid off her snow-covered boots and jacket before heading directly to the family kitchen. Despite her mother being gone for over five years, her father had not changed one thing. The house looked exactly the same, a time capsule from when her mother was living and taking care of everything. She was surprised at her father’s ability to keep the place this pristine, especially with his long work hours. But she knew he did it partially to honor her mother, who was strict about keeping things a certain way. She placed the fresh loaves of bread on the counter and meandered back to her father’s workshop. She inhaled the savory smells of fresh vegetable soup on the stove, made by her sister, she knew. Her father could maintain a house but he was a lousy cook.

Despite being home from work, it was not a shocker to find D’Kar still in his home workshop carving after hours. He would carve nonstop if his aging hands allowed it. This older age did limit how long he could carve but it did not diminish the quality. Only he and few other men in the tribe had his level of skill with Jabari wood, skill that took many years to practice.

“Baba,” she called softly, a smile on her face as she leaned against the door frame and watched him work.

“My girl!” He finished the last Jabari symbol on a walking staff before standing to wrap his eldest daughter in a tight hug. “How was your day?” He studied her closely, noting the exhaustion on her face. D’Kar was proud of his daughter but he felt she worked too much, worked too hard for someone her age.

“Busy, Eshe is out sick so I am pulling double duty for the next couple days,” she waved away his concerns before sitting on a stool across from him so he could continue working.

“Ah, I am sure the day was made all the more busy with a visit from the Chief and the Royal Family.”

“They came by your shop too?” she asked.

“Yep! The young one, Shuri? She mentioned that they had stopped at your bakery. Couldn’t stop talking about it. Asked me to convince you to pack up and open up shop in the Golden City.”

Amara laughed, “And leave Jabariland? Leave you?” she asked, sitting down on one of the stools across from him. “I could never, baba.”

D’Kar halted his carving for a moment, looking up from the walking staff to his daughter. “The Golden City wouldn’t be so bad. Now with the tribes reunited, maybe a change of scenery would be good for you, eh?”

“Good for me?” Amara’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. “Where is this coming from? You hate the lowlanders?”

“Yes, I do. But that does not mean you have to. You are young, Amara. Shouldn’t waste your years taking care of your sister and I. You should be living your life, having fun. It is what I want for you, what Neema wants for you… what she would want for you too.”

Amara turned her head away from her father, the back of her eyes stinging lightly at the mention of her mother. Her death… her absence was still a sore subject in this house. “I-I’m gonna check on Neema, yes? Things will calm down next week and I-I can cook a few nights a week again so Neema isn’t doing everything. I’ll swing back by before I leave. I put some fresh loaves on the counter by the way.” She slid off the high stool and exited her father’s workshop quickly, barely looking at him as she went. She shook her head, as if that would rid it of all the negative thoughts swirling around, and headed upstairs to her sister’s bed room.

Her sister’s long braids covered her face as she jotted down something in a small notebook. Amara watched Neema write with intensity. For her, writing was like baking, it took her to another world.

Amara flopped down on her sister’s bed, earning her attention and an annoyed look. “How is the world’s greatest future author doing?” She inquired as she stretched out across the bed.

“She is tired and trying to finish this with no distractions,” Neema responded, tapping her pen against her sister’s forehead gently. Amara’s eyes scrunched up as she laughed.

“Fine, fine.” She pushed herself to a seated position and moved to the edge of the bed. “It is late anyway so I am not staying long. Just told baba I would check in on you. How was training?”

“Painful as usual… fought against Lady Malaika today. She is good, left a few bruises. But we both won once so we got high marks.” She lifted her light sweatshirt to show a darkening bruise along her side. Amara whistled, she certainly did not miss her training days.

“That is going to be worse tomorrow. You need to put ice on it. Also, why don’t you hang out with Lady Malaika? She seems nice, spoke very highly of you.” She poked her clearly annoyed sister in her unbruised side as she spoke.

“When did you talk to her?” she questioned, her voice filled with speculation and a hint of anxiety, that also showed through her fidgeting with the corner of her notebook paper.

“She came into the shop with the Royals and her brother. She said you were nice and she liked training with you. She is a sweetheart…. You should hang out with her, she seems like she could be a new friend if you just put yourself out there.” Amara stood up and started to walk toward the door.

“We all can’t be you, Amara.”

“No, you can be better.” She winked before turning to head out the door and back to her own home for the night. “Ice your side and start a damn fire in here, I mean for Hanuman’s sake.. It is freezing in here and getting sick will not get you out of training.” Amara ducked as a pillow came wheezing toward her head. “Night Neema.” The two childishly stuck their tongues out at each other before she bounded down the stairs to say goodnight to her baba and head home.

*****

High up on Gorilla Mountain, another Jabari was fulfilling his big brother duties, training with his sister before bed.

“Harder Malaika! What is up with you today?” M’Baku demanded, straightening his strong and long legs out of his battle stance to address his sister, who looked like she was moments away from the Ancestral Cliffs.

“Sorry, brother. You know that woman at the bakery? I fought her sister today. She fought almost as hard as you do. I actually lost a battle to her,” she said, tone as if she still couldn’t believe it even hours later. “She is really nice, off the training mats, at least. Can we just call it a night? I am tired.” She quickly turned on her puppy dog eyes, the one thing she knew her overprotective brother simply could not say no to.

He rolled his eyes, “You know you cannot stop fighting in battle simply because something hurts eh? You fight until there is nothing left in you.”

“Is there a war coming tomorrow that I don’t know about??” she asked sarcastically, looking from left to right as if an entire army was going to swarm the Lodge’s training center. “I think I will be ok if I cut one training session short, Lord Tyrant.”

M’Baku rolled his eyes at her, deciding to just let it go and let her get some rest. Despite having guards whose sole purpose was to escort his rambunctious sister around Jabariland, he always walked her back from their nightly training sessions. It was their only time to bond with no distractions.

“That baker from today? You liked her?” Malaika asked quietly as they walked, their guards, or shadows as she called them, quietly trailing behind them.

M’Baku’s barking laugh filled the quiet dark halls of the Lodge, “Like her? I hardly spoke to her. I don’t even remember her name.”

A mischievous smile crossed his sister’s face. Oh this is going to be fun. “Well, that is true. She was quite nice though. And Anika is a beautiful name.”

“It was Amara,” he corrected her immediately, already forgetting the lie he told 5 seconds prior. Maliaka immediately burst into laughter. M’Baku could also hear a few snickers behind him as their guards overheard their conversation. One pointed glare and those laughs ended abruptly.

“You are such a bad liar. You like her, just admit it. You thought she was pretty.”

“Eh and what of it?”

“For a chief, you are pretty stupid sometimes, you know that right? Maybe they should make me chief? I am clearly the brains behind this operation. Ask her out. Court her. She is gorgeous, accomplished, her family is well-respected in the city. She is perfect for you.”

M’Baku shook his head. His sister raised some good points, as she always did, even if they were marred with insults. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since they left that bakery. He had plans to go back there tomorrow just to see her again, but he would never tell Malaika that. “I do not have time to date. I only have room for one lady in my life these days.” His elbow nudged her gently as they rounded the corner and stopped in front of her room.

Malaika rolled her eyes as she opened the door to her private chambers. She leaned against the frame as she looked at her brother, the man who gave up most of his young adult years to be chief and take care of her. Her joking tone melted away as the feelings of guilt seeped in. She tried to shake it off, the guilt of being a burden that she felt… well always. “Well, this lady thinks you have more than enough time for a girlfriend. The Council is trying to push any woman with a pulse into your arms. Might as well try with someone you actually like. I am just saying,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “There is more than enough room for two ladies in this palace. Goodnight, brother.” The two hugged before she retreated into her room and raced over to her side table.

She pulled out a couple pieces of paper and jotted down two quick letters. Malaika read over them quickly before nodding in satisfaction.

“Jahari!” she called, her shadow immediately poking his head into her room.

“My lady?”

“I need a big favor,” she said sweetly, turning on her youthful charm to get the guard to break a few protocol rules for her. “Can you deliver these to the night guards and see to it that they were delivered by the morning?”

Jahari sighed, “My lady, you know I am not allowed to leave your door until morning. This cannot wait?”

“The future of Jabariland… the life of your chief is at stake. Surely that outweighs any silly rules my overprotective brother gave right?” At Jahari’s raised eyebrow, she tried a new tactic. “Look, if anyone sees you gone and gives you a hard time, I will just tell them I felt ill and you went to fetch me medicine. How about that? Please, please please please pleaseeeeee?” she begged.

“Fine, fine. But if I lose my head, I will be forced to haunt you,” he warned. “Can I ask you why these are so important?”

“One is for Femi, the Lodge event planner and the second is for my dressmaker. Just need some last minute things before the Winter Festival Ball on Saturday.”

Jahari snorted, “Yea right. Whatever mischief you are planning, I want to be as far away from it as possible.”

Malaika laughed, “Oh I think everyone around here will enjoy this bout of mischief. Trust me.”

“Lock the door behind me and do not open it for anyone. I will knock three times to let you know when I return. Deal?” Jahari was not a rule breaker but Maliaka reminded him so much of his own sister so he gave her as much leeway as he could.

“Thank you!” she followed him to the door, immediately locking it behind him. She slumped against it, a content smile on her face. Let the fun begin.

****

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#black panther #black panther fanfiction #m'baku imagine #m'baku #m'back x oc #m'baku x reader

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