#Wakanda Syllabus

[uzumaki-rebellion]

The World-building of Wakanda: Black Panther and Afrofuturism

I've been revisiting the Wakanda Syllabus that an educator associate of mine Dr. Walter Greason put together when the first Black Panther movie came out, and also reviewing old discussions about the significance of that era as a cultural moment and movement at the same time.

The fact that I still write Black Panther fanfics is a testement to the love I have for that fandom and its importance to Afrofuturism and Black Diaspora Futurism. I'm always happy when I see other Black writers out here still churning out plots and series fics because it is a digital archive for how we perceive a fictional future where as Killmonger once annouced "We're on top."

These works are important and specifically center the Black experience. And we don't have to fit our characters inside of white story spaces where we are usually the sidekick or fetish characters. I had an interesting talk with a friend of a friend and she wanted to argue that Black characters in the MCU who were not in the Black Panther/Wakanda Forever films should be included in the discussions of Afrofuturism, and I said they didn't belong in it fully because those characters are not centering Black people's futures. They center the non-Black white leads and their American/American adjacent interests (I'm talking about War Machine, Nick Fury, Sam Wilson, Valkyrie etc). It was a good back and forth because I am always questioning how Black people can build Black solidarity/communities by always working in white spaces in the service of white global agendas.

Writing Killmonger's journey (and his parents) for over six years (Lawd six years!!!!) with numerous books has taught me a lot about my role in preserving our fandom legacy as Black fanfiction writers and as readers. Afrofuturism has allowed me to explore not only Black Liberation, but Black Queerness, ATR's (African Traditional Religions), Black Matriarchy and Black Patriarchy. I've written about things I love and participate in, and also got to play pretend like I'm a kid again playing with my Barbie dolls and action figures. Black sex. Black music. Black art. Black philosophy. Blackety Black and unapologetic.

All this to say that I hope others out there like me keep writing and reading and reblogging these free little digital seeds we are planting that will truly blossom in the future when others discover our work. I know many Black writers lament that we don't get the same traction or BNF notoriety that white writers do. However, there is joy and divine calling when one simply sits and writes a Black Panther tale to give to other Black people for free all over the world. It still boggles my mind that there are people who have read my stories for years and they live on the other side of the world. People I will probably never meet, but they read and sometimes leave sweet comments that feed me to keep going.

Keep writing y'all. Keep reading and sharing and creating. You are making Afrofuturism fanfiction that is a time capsule for Black folks who aren't even here yet. Academics are secretly reading your stuff and using it to formulate academic studies on a fictional world ! Your Black Panther creations are beautiful no matter where you live on the planet!

Pat yourself on the back and keep worldbuilding and reading.

Here is a link if you want to check out some Wakanda Syllabus stuff that has been collected for the public to use.

[beckzorz]

Nontraditional 02. Roll Call

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Words: 1149 Summary: First day of classes. Bucky screws up. A/N: Day 5 for @ibwhellospring! Prompt was ‘starry night.’ Doing double duty here—this is also part two of my Bucky Barnes goes to college story :3 Let me know what you think! Tags are open xoxo

Bucky adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as he peers into the classroom. No one’s noticed him, not yet.

Not even you.

You’re sitting one row back. Scrolling through your phone, chin in your hand as you wait for class to start. You’ve got one leg crossed over the other, sandaled foot bouncing to a private beat. Bucky’s ten minutes early, but you look perfectly settled, notebook and pens ready and waiting. How long have you been here?

His heart skips a beat as he steps inside, but that’s enough for your eyes to flit up and meet his. A smile breaks across your face, and you glance at the seat beside you. It’s one of the bigger desks, with actual legroom and a top big enough for a textbook and a notebook. More to the point, it’s next to you.

Ever since that first meeting at the bar, he’s been thinking about you. Your well-timed jibe about the Soviet Union, the fierce, pleased glitter in your eye when he’d finally figured things out.

Embarrassing, really, that it had taken him so long. Natasha doesn’t have normal friends.

All that, but also the look in your eyes when you’d first seen him. And every other breathless look you’d given him after.

It’s been months since then. Between his July visit to Wakanda and taking over training for Steve, who was off on a long mission in August, Bucky hadn’t had a chance to reconnect beyond finding out some of the classes you’d be taking. Three history, two gen eds.

The judicial system is taking its sweet-ass time, so Bucky is still benched from actual missions. As itchy as that makes him—watching Steve, Nat, Sam, and the others walk cheerfully into danger is harder than he’d thought—it’s got its benefits. Plenty of alone time, and the flexibility to take actual in-person classes. He’d signed up for two Tuesday-Thursday classes. One with you, one without.

Bucky slides into the seat beside you. Is it weird that he’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt in summer? No one else is. But no one seems to notice, either. You stuff your phone into your bag, foot still tapping in midair, and smile even brighter. You cross your arms, lean on your desk. The movement sends a hint of your scent his way. Shampoo, soap, and something distinctly you.

His stomach flips.

“Mornin’,” he says, tearing his eyes away. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat next to you.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “It’s not even nine thirty!”

Bucky hums in agreement, even though he’s been up since five.

“Oh please,” you say, laughing. “I bet you’ve been up since five!”

Bucky turns and stares at you. “What are you, a mind-reader or something?”

“Haha! That’d be fun. Well, maybe not.” You scrunch your nose, considering. “No, I just know Nat always was up at crazy hours. Figured you’d be too.”

“Hm.”

Bucky arranges his notepad and pencil on the desk. There class is slowly filling up, but it doesn’t feel like anyone’s recognized him yet.

“Hey,” he asks suddenly, “do they still do roll call?”

“Uh… Not usually. Maybe the first few weeks, some do.” You raise an eyebrow at him, sympathy leaking into your voice. “Worried?”

Bucky bristles. “No,” he says sharply.

You shrug, but there’s a sudden reservation in your eyes. You pull your phone back out and hunch in your seat.

“No one really thought Nat was the real thing,” you mutter, quiet enough so only he can hear. “You should be fine.” You go quiet and turn away.

Bucky leans his head back and stares at the ceiling, jaw clenched.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He didn’t mean to upset you, offend you—all he wanted was to wipe the pity off your face. He doesn’t give a crap if anyone recognizes him, not really. He’s been mostly exonerated. All that’s left is the military clearance.

More than that, he wanted you to smile at him again. Forget the sympathy, forget the pity, just smile. Give him that bright-eyed look, the one that makes him want to smile back and never stop…

But all he can see now is the back of your head, and that foot still tapping in midair.

The professor comes in, and the class starts. No roll call—just a syllabus, a brief introduction to the history of terrorism, and a group exercise on the definition of terrorism where you promptly join with two boys to your left. Bucky’s left to fend for himself.

Again.

—

His next class, at eleven, is all veterans. There’s a comfort in that. Even a few women vets, which is nice. Before class, there’s some swapping of war stories, of branches and units. Bucky keeps it vague, but the others take it in easily.

Then the professor does roll call, and no one bats an eye when James says here.

Bucky’s gut twists as he thinks of your reassurance.

You should be fine.

The professor calls him aside, after, his old eyes glinting with recognition.

“I fought in Vietnam,” Professor Hunt says. “My unit called ourselves the Howlers. After you.”

Bucky forces a smile. “Nice.”

He hasn’t taken classes on it, but he knows enough history to have mixed feelings about Vietnam. Still, it’s meant as an honor.

“You tell just as much as you want,” Hunt continues. He holds out his hand; Bucky takes it gingerly. Hunt is slight, shorter than him, face wrinkled with age. But his grip is firm. “It’s a pleasure to have you, Mr. Barnes. See you Thursday.”

—

“Well, how’d it go?”

Natasha’s face floats into his field of vision. Bucky’s sprawled on a flattened lawn chair on the roof patio. The stars are gleaming, summer constellations hanging low in the early night sky.

“Eh.”

Natasha nudges one of his legs off the seat and sits by his shin. “She had a nice time.”

He huffs. His hands curl into fists against his stomach, knuckles tapping together.

“What?” Natasha prods his knee.

“Think I offended her.”

“Eh, she’s tough. She’ll get over it.” Natasha pushes at his hip. “Move over, moy dorogoy.”

Bucky shifts over. Natasha lies down next to him, her head pillowed on his right shoulder. He blows her curls out of his face, and she chuckles, patting his arm. He shifts until it’s comfortable. An old, familiar kind of comfortable, one that settles some of the anxiety swirling in his mind.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she murmurs. “It takes time, warming up to people. For all of us.”

Bucky sighs. Nods. She’s right, as always. But there’s a nagging question, now that there’s a person he wants to know.

Will he figure himself out in time, or will your patience run out?

“See Sagittarius?” Natasha asks. Bucky drags himself out of his thoughts and follows her pointing finger.

“Yeah,” he says. “I see it.”

[keishiko]

Into Infinity

In the months after the events of “Civil War”, Natasha and Steve face the future together.

[Oneshot (so far) <1,500 words  |  Rated G  |  Angst, established Romance (Steve x Nat)]  |  Optional companion piece to "Refuge" (Part One) (Part Two).

---

Her blond hair fell in waves in front of her face from what had been a tight bun at the back of her head.  Natasha shuffled up the steps to the massive archways, then dodged behind a chattering family of tourists as she stepped into the heavily surveilled lobby of the museum.  Passing a cluster of ceiling cameras she pretended to fiddle with the controls on her earphones to shield her face, before strolling into a side room and stopping to feign interest in a painting. She found him sitting in one of the sculpture galleries, his frame filling out a long bulky coat and his overgrown dark hair peeking out from under a baseball cap.  Smiling, she remembered how he had originally chafed against his instinct to remove his hat inside a building.   His head was ducked low over what she realized, soundlessly stepping closer, was one of his sketchpads.  He was sketching a sculpture a few paces in front of him, a centuries-old composition in marble and classical Greek. “Class end early?”  Steve didn’t even look up from where he was carefully filling in a shadow. One of these days, she promised herself, she’d be able to sneak up on him again.  “Faye had to go pick up her kid at school.” “She should’ve made you take over.” “Oh, I’m pretty bad even for a beginner.  Take your time, though, I can look around for a while,” she added as he flipped the sketchbook shut.   Skylight sunshine brought out the blue in his eyes as he shrugged, already shoving his sketchbook and pencils into his bag.  “I could use a snack anyway.” “You already are a snack,” she couldn’t resist pointing out, as he offered her his arm. “Oh is that what the kids are saying these days?”  He grinned back. She threw her hands up in mock frustration.  “I really don’t know what my classmates are saying half the time.” He steered her out into the corridor.  “Now you know how I feel.” He pretended to get confused halfway through the museum in entirely the wrong direction, and she pretended not to know better.  She was enjoying herself too much, her arm slipped companionably through his as they ambled among the displays.  He kept stopping and she obliged him patiently, watching without a word as his eyes lit up from one exhibit to another. “You’re really maxing out your stealth lessons today, you know that?” she murmured as they sipped coffee at a sun-dappled outdoor table at a kiosk outside the museum.  “There’s only so much a baseball cap can do.” He smiled ruefully.  “Sorry, Nat.  You know I can’t resist this kind of place.” She knew.  She grinned forgiveness at him over the rim of her cup. “I’ve been thinking about going back to school.”  His tone was wistful even as his eyes tracked restlessly across passersby, the soldier watchful out of habit.  “You know I never went to college?  It wasn’t much of a thing in my time.” “What, in this economy?” she joked.  She knew he wasn’t serious, couldn’t be serious, and the reasons saddened her: He was too big, too odd, would draw too much attention.  He’d need documents.  He met her smile for bittersweet smile.  “Not even Fury would agree to pay for student loans,” she quipped, resisting the urge to chase away the resignation in his face with a touch of her hand. “We could sell the quinjet.”  He let her sugar packet hit him in the face and chuckled.  “Craigslist.  No one would have to know.” “I’ll cash in some dividends from Wakanda,” she deadpanned.  “Give you a real low interest rate.  Just ‘cause we’re friends.” His impulsive, gentle kiss kindled sparks in her belly, reassured her they were far more than just friends.  She savored the secondhand taste of unsweetened coffee on his lips and the subtle scratch of his beard against her cheek. She bought herself a slice of cake.  It was stone-cold from the display and the marshmallow frosting had dried up a little on the edges, but she wanted an excuse not to go home yet.  Sure enough, as she sat back down at the table, she saw Steve had taken out his sketchpad again, darting appraising glances up at the museum building across the way.  He liked drawing architecture, she’d noticed. Taking small bites of her cake she watched him work in silence, quickly filling a new blank page with bold strokes for the sharp angles of walls and roof, outlining finials and cornices in smaller, more precise movements.  Most of the Avengers didn't even know about Captain America’s art school background.  She’d only found out because she’d made an effort to, back when Fury first assigned them together; she couldn’t very well put her life into the hands of a stranger, she’d reasoned—not even a stranger who was also a legend.  And even after he found out that she knew, it had taken him a long time to stop trying to hide his sketching from her.  Not out of shame or embarrassment, as she had first guessed, but because it was so intensely personal to him.   Even now she pretended to be looking somewhere else, only watching out the corner of her eye as he carefully shaded in brick and ivy on the page.  He probably already knew she was looking anyway, she told herself.  She remembered his old photograph from the Smithsonian and tried to picture him scrawny and small, sketching the Chrysler Building maybe, or St. Patrick’s Cathedral. “You could just take classes,” she offered later, as they detoured along the river on their unhurried walk home.  “What would you major in, anyway, if you could?”   He smiled at the thought.  “I dunno.  Maybe history.  Or art history.” “Who knew Captain America was such a huge nerd.”  She smirked up at the mix of annoyance and amusement in his face.  Then, sombering, she squinted into the sunset.  “I could teach dance.” “You could.  Then you could be a soloist.  And I’d come watch all your shows.”  He squeezed her shoulders.  “I’d bring you bouquets backstage and all that.” His tone had lost its edge, grown fond and pensive.  She looked away, something clenching in her chest.  She forced a laugh.  “The other girls would probably kill me out of jealousy.” “I thought that only happened in movies.”  Chuckling, he folded his hand over hers, their fingers entwining. She drank in the golden wash of light over his face, the unfocused look in his eyes as he took in the skyline across the water, where windows and signs were already blinking to life ahead of nightfall.  In this city they were Mike and Nadine, dating for months now having met online, a gym buff and a beginner ballet hobbyist.  Now considering enrolment in art history and certification for the Cecchetti method, respectively.  Dreaming for a future Steve and Natasha could never have. Nat had taught at the Avengers facility, too, and at SHIELD before that.  Subjects a little more dangerous than ballet, a syllabus a little less structured.  She smiled at the memory of cavernous training rooms, of form drills escalating into sparring matches.  She had enjoyed the feel of a place for herself then, sheltered willingly in her new and strangely public identity as Agent Romanoff, member of something or other, part of a larger, well-oiled machine.  But these days, the dust only just beginning to settle from the Sokovia Accords, the unfamiliar sense of freedom—and anonymity—was not unwelcome.   “You should look up schools online,” she suggested doggedly, letting Steve wrap his arm around her shoulders against the evening wind.  She burrowed into the warmth under his chin, wound her arm around his waist.  “Even Harvard livestreams courses now.” She felt more than heard his grunt of acknowledgment.  He’d already left the topic behind.  Behind them the streetlamps along the boardwalk winked on, one after another in the settling gloom.  A couple strolled past, with five dogs straining at their leashes. “You heard back yet?” He was sharp and focused again.  She stifled a sigh. “I told Sam oh-two-hundred.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, as if to apologize for his abrupt change in mood.  “Then we got all the time in the world.”

fin

[lady-olive-oil]

Chapter 1

Prelude || Characters || Chapter 1

{A/N: First chapter of a new series for the new year! Let’s go! Let me know what you think and if you want to be apart of the tag squad! Huge thanks to my sis Maddie, she’s a character in this one by the name of Natasha}

Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines

Word Count: 1,295

Warnings: none

Xhosa Translations; (loosely)

‘Ndifungela ndiya kukubetha ngolunye usuku

- I swear I’m going to hit you one day

———

Junior year. Near the final stretch for Nefertiti and her crew. It’s took some time to get here but, with a village she made it through. Getting a degree has always been at the top of her list, alongside becoming a Delta. Becoming a Delta meant that you held yourself to a high standard, a higher caliber of life and was apart of the Divine Nine. This second semester in particular, moving into a better part of the sorority house was the perfect way to start off the year. A room fit for an upcoming big sister.

With some old 80’s and 90’s jams, playing in the background, while sorting the boxes all out, Nefe was just in her element. With the help of her roomie Natasha, fellow Delta herself, she couldn’t help but love the new vibe she felt from Nefe.

“Honey, Chile. I don’t know what got into you, but I’m loving this new attitude of yours. It’s new and vibrant, I wonder what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha, or Nattie, has always been Nefe’s voice of reason along with the party queen. Kind of a contradiction isn’t it? Well that’s how she is: voice of reason and party queen.

“Well what got into me was Sean. Don’t tell M’Baku cause he’ll flip his shit.” A chuckle left her full lips as she opened the box of her room decorations, along with Southern University pennants.

“You mean Mr. Wakanda? Something about him just screams seduction. Why aren’t you with him? Sean isn’t what you need Nefe.”

Nattie did always have a way with words. Maybe she was onto something. But Nefe never really thought of M’Baku that way, and he didn’t think of her that way. Did he?

“Oh so Mr. Wakanda, will have something to say huh?” The infamous thick voice broke the silence, causing the girls to scream.

“Jesus M’Baku! Don’t do that. Ndifungela ndiya kukubetha ngolunye usuku”

To say he wasn’t laughing is an understatement. Along with teaching Nefe Xhosa, which clearly stuck with her like gorilla glue on a boot.

“Your pronunciations are getting better, intyatyambo. That’s flower by the way.”

Sitting on the loveseat by the bay window, giving his ever so sweet smile. He never ceased to amaze them. Okoye and Nakia were in their rooms but knew M’Baku came to visit Nefe. They’d tease her about it occasionally.

“Gee. Thanks great gorilla. I’m sure your home country will be proud.”

The teasing tone in her voice caused him to chuckle and Nattie to shake her head and help finish decorating.

“My parents miss me yes. But they’ll be visiting on parents day in September, along with me going home with you and your family. It’s tradition.”

He shrugged as he grabbed a Velcro command strip to hang up a framed picture. A family portrait that meant the world to Nefertiti. That’s one of the things he loves about her, how family oriented she is.

“Yeah yeah. Ok you two, the jams are on and we all have class in an hour. Gotta start junior year off right, right? So sister Queen Nefertiti, turn up the jams.”

Nattie grabbed another box, as Nefe turned up the song on her Logitech Clock radio, that was currently charging her phone. Prompting M’Baku to either join in or record it.

“I got all this love, waiting just for you I just got to know, that your love is true. Can't keep running boy, in and out my life. Want to be your girl, not cause the mood is right.”

Nefe lip synced into her hair brush, swaying her hips to the beat and making her way to her closet. Pointing to Nattie, and she gladly took the next verse.

“If I let you come inside Tomorrow will you hide? Will you be there for me? When I need someone to hold Baby don't misunderstand. I do want you for my man, I just need a little time, Before I invest my love”

Moments like these were what the group was looking forward to. The late night studying groups, sleepover, Greek recruitment days, parties and most of all graduation coming soon. It was gonna be a grand year.

M’Baku was taping them the whole time and was enjoying being back at SU with his friends. He knew he had to get the group together sooner or later to catch up. But for now he’d settle for this with two of his favorite girls.

“Don't walk away boy, My love won't hurt you. Don't walk away boy, I'll be right there for you!”

The girls sung in unison as they danced around in complete bliss and comfort. The two girls fell on top of a huge bean bag chair, and started laughing The three of them finished decorating and admired their work, ready to take on the year.

The rest of the day was filled with classes, introducing new students to the class; ye old syllabus and requirements to uphold. The old mumbo jumbo. But something in music theory threw Nefertiti off her rocker.

Melanie Davis was her name, being Nefe’s rival was her game. They’ve had it out for each other since high school. Even the delta house denied her application sophomore year, because of how she presented herself. Yet the AKA’s welcomes her greatly.

Sitting next to M’Baku on his left, she batted her falsies at him and smiled.

“So M’Baku, how was your summer? You should’ve went to Jamaica with me and the girls. We would’ve loved to have you there.”

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Nefe. Her left eye was twitching and Okoye caught it.

“My summer was great Mel. It was good to be home. I’m sorry I couldn’t. Maybe next spring or summer break.”

He did find Melanie attractive. Who wouldn’t? He just let her down gently and she giggled. She made Nefe’s skin crawl.

“Want me to cut her? I’ll cut her for you.” she mouthed at Nefe which cause her to chuckle and shake her head.

“So the homecoming game is coming up. I’ll be cheering for you in the stands. Plus there’s a party afterwards, wanna go with me?”

He was so uncomfortable, and was about to reply till someone stepped in.

“He has plans already, Davis. Stop trying.” Nefe finally spoke up causing everyone around them to laugh.

“Listen here little miss soul sistah. If M’Baku wants to go with another melanin goddess like me, it’s his choice to go.”

Melanie never ceased to get under Nefe’s skin because she knew it bothered her that she could get to M’Baku. After all they did date before, but she ended the relationship because of his friendship with Nefe.

“No you listen here, Mel. He’s obviously uncomfortable with you still. So why don’t you sit ya ass down and chill. Aight?”

Erik always had Nefe’s back. She was like a sister to him. He’s T’Challa cousin and M’Baku frat brother of Omega Psi Phi.

Melanie scoffed and headed out with her little crew, once class was over.

“So y’all want dinner? Popeye’s or is Nakia making jambalaya?” T’Challa, also one of M’Baku’s friends, had asked the group as they headed out the class.

“I’m feelin Popeye’s. Let’s go.”

Once they agreed to Nefe’s statement, they headed that direction. What happened in the music room played again in Nefe’s head. Part of her knew M’Baku still had feelings for Melanie and that somewhat bothered her.

Nah, not somewhat. It fully bothered her to the fullest extent. This was going to be a long year till graduation.

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Untitled Dadmonger

CH. 2

7 months later

Chloe Isabel Stevens made her grand entrance into the world on a crisp fall evening. She was a tiny thing with a full head of soft black hair, and Erik had a hard time believing he made that. Bianca’s family was there, much to his disappointment and the meeting in the waiting room was anything but joyous; just like he suspected her family was nothing but rich snobs who looked down on lower-class black people. The mother was a petite woman with wavy hair down to her back and owned a publishing company and the father was the same. He was a skinny man who spoke condescendingly to Erik and was one of the best defense attorneys New York had seen. And don’t even get him started on the brother; Bianca’s younger brother acted just like Carlton from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with his white girlfriend in tow.

In fact, the whole family looked just like the Banks family but their personalities were atrocious. Bianca’s brother Nicholas seemed perfectly at ease to go along with whatever his white girlfriend was saying, and Mr. Logan was judging Erik for every single thing he did: the way he dressed, talked, and his hometown Oakland. Mrs. Logan on the other hand seemed to tolerate Erik and encouraged her husband to ease up on him. 

“Really Clyde, stop messing with him, this is hardly the time or place,” she hissed at him smacking his arm. “I’m sorry about my husband Erik, just ignore him. What did your parents say when you told them you were going to be a father?” Mr. Logan was rubbing his arm and glaring at his wife. “My parents died when I was young but I’m sure they’d be happy,” Erik replied respectfully. So far only Bianca’s mother had shown him a little respect; she was a kind lady who briefly reminded Erik of his foster moms.

“Oh Erik, I’m so sorry, we had no idea. If you need anything at all, please let us know, and call me Shannon.” Mr. Logan and Nicholas looked at her as if she lost her mind, but she ignored them. “So Erik, what do you do for a living? You have a job?” For the last few months he had been working as a War Dog for the U.S. with Ulysses Klaue, racking up kills in Iraq, Africa, and on American soil, but he couldn’t tell them that so he stuck with the basic truth. “I’m in the military and just got back from a mission on Africa.”

Now Clyde had nothing to say; he was hoping for an answer along the lines of being unemployed or selling drugs. Now the man sat back in his chair in defeat and sipped his coffee. “Well it’s a good thing for now, but not something you want to do forever is it? Now that you’re about to become a father?” “No matter what I do, my kid will always be taken care of,” Erik promised in a cool voice. It was true, his daughter is going to be set for life as the next princess of his father’s native country of Wakanda with him as king.

He was having some minor setbacks but that was okay, it was only giving him time to make sure everything will go over smoothly. A nurse came in a little while later to announce the birth of the baby, a little over three pounds. Everyone followed the nurse to Bianca’s room and there she was. Bianca was sweaty with hair stuck to her forehead and tired looking but happy. In her arms was a bundle of blankets and Erik moved closer; inside the blankets was a small baby with a full head of black hair and fast asleep. Bianca held out her arms.

“You wanna hold her Erik?” Erik was unsure, he had never been around babies, or held one before and he was low key scared; she was so small and fragile looking. The nurse showed him where to put his hands and soon he had one hand holding her body and the other supporting her head. The baby girl was still sleeping but moving inside the blankets. “Can you open ya eyes for me ma?”

He wasn’t sure if she understood or if was a coincidence but she obeyed his order. Looking back at him was his own brown eyes copied into her small face, a stark contrast from Bianca’s light ones; after really looking at her she had a lot of his facial features: his eyes, nose, and ears. The only thing she got from her mother was her light skin tone which will probably darken over time. “Hi Princess, I’m you pops.” The newborn made a little noise at the acknowledgement and Erik smiled.

“Aye Bianca, what’s her name?” The never talked about names that much because they thought the baby wouldn’t be due for another three weeks and the baby was early. “I really liked the name Hermione.” Ah hell no was his new daughter gonna be named after some white girl from Harry Potter. He ain’t walking around with a daughter named Hermione Stevens.

“Nuh uh, try again,” he said rocking his daughter back and forth. “Whatchu mean try again? I pushed her out!” After an hour of passing the baby around family and fighting over names, the picked a winner: Chloe Isabel. Erik couldn’t believe he made something so beautiful and good. She was passed around three times to everyone, except Nicholas’ girlfriend; whenever she was about to get her hands on the baby Erik intercepted her.

Chloe seemed to know exactly who was holding her because she cooed at just about everyone in the room. She started making noises when someone that wasn’t Erik or Bianca held her; whenever someone in Bianca’s family held her, she would let out an ear-splitting screech but with Erik she would calm down immediately. He had a daddy’s girl on his hands, he could feel it, and it seemed like baby girl didn’t like anyone on her mom’s side of the family. The eventually had to leave to give Chloe and Bianca some rest; tomorrow both mother and baby would be able to leave.

“But I never got to hold her!” the white girl Kayla whined, and Nicholas hushed her as the left. “It’s okay babe, we’ll talk about it later.” No one noticed that Erik had stayed behind, staring at his daughter in the plastic crib next to her mother. “What do you want nigga?” He couldn’t believe how different his baby mama was from the rest of her family, she was so laid back, didn’t give a fuck about what people thought of her.

Her family it seemed like they survived on the approval of white people. “Thank you. For her.” “Umm. You’re welcome. You’re gonna be a great dad Erik.” They sat talking for a little while longer, making plans to move Bianca into Erik’s new apartment. As Bianca had predicted months earlier, her parents did kick her out but not until after the baby was born.

This was to protect their won brand as they were both prominent figures in New York. No one could know that the successful Logan family had a pregnant college aged daughter who cheated on her boyfriend. They agreed to start the process in a few weeks when Bianca was able to move around, and he still had to set up the baby furniture. Erik left as he saw Bianca falling asleep and gave Chloe one last kiss and turned out the light.

He still had no idea if he was ready for fatherhood or fit enough to be someone’s parent but he had to try

Two weeks later

Erik was tired, he was so fucking tired. How the hell does something so small make so much noise? It’s been two weeks since Chloe’s birth and he already felt like a failure; the new father couldn’t concentrate on his school work or his father’s journals, and Bianca wanted nothing to do with the baby, she was no help at all. To make matters worse Erik has a mission to Afghanistan coming up and he had no idea what to do. It turns out that thing Shannon was talking to Erik about ever needed anything was a fucking lie.

Yesterday when Erik went to drop off Chloe there was a for sale sign in the window of their house and when he rang the doorbell nobody answered. The neighbor who lived next door to them told them they moved to Portland, Maine. He felt like kicking something or someone; that bitch had lied to him and he fell for it, they didn’t want anything to do with their granddaughter or niece. Instead Erik went back to MIT with baby Chloe in tow to his first few classes of the new semester. with the way Bianca was acting, he wasn’t going to let her watch the baby for a few hours even if she is the mother.

It was quite a comical sight, seeing Erik Stevens bringing a baby to class complete with a pink diaper bag slung across his chest; he glared at anyone who dared to say something. When he reached the science department he sat the baby carrier down on a bench and gave his newborn daughter a pep talk. “Aight now, I don’t want no crying, screaming or any kind of noise, got that? Not a peep.” Chloe just stared at him and kicked her feet as she babbled. “Yeah, get all that energy out now. After this we gon do a diaper check and get you bottle.”

He was the first one to class and he took some time to get his materials ready and went over the rules one more time. The next person to come next was the professor Dr. Gao, a small Chinese woman who gasped in shock at the baby. “Is she going to be joining us for the semester?” she asked. He had no idea, it didn’t look like Bianca was going to get any better land he couldn’t find anyone to watch her while he was at school. “Looks like it, yeah.”

“Well, she is very beautiful. What is her name?” Erik glanced at the baby who had now fallen asleep in the carrier. “Her name’s Chloe.” Dr. Gao asked a few more questions, questions like who is the mother, is the mother doing okay, are you on speaking terms with her? Erik answered as truthfully as possible, trying not to get too mad at her; she does hold her grade in her hands and he didn’t want to piss her off.

The rest of the class filed into the lecture hall and everyone looked from the baby to Erik and back again as they whispered to their friends. After ten minutes the initial shock of Erik Stevens having a child wore off and class continued on in peace. It was a short class since it was the first week; the syllabus was passed out with important dates like finals and midterms in bold print. Dr. Gao gave them a research paper that was due at the end of the semester along with a list of topics to choose from. The class was over in fifteen minutes with the professor telling them to get started soon.

As promised, Erik gave Chloe a diaper change in a secluded stairwell and was relieved to see that her diaper was only a little wet; he changed her quickly and pulled her clothes back on. Erik fed her a bottle in the car, he hated the way people were coming up to him asking to hold Chloe and he wanted some quiet time with her before his next class.

Erik glanced at the clock on the dashboard and saw that he only had ten minutes left to get to is math class. “Come one baby girl, time for class.” She whined a little as if she was already tired of this. “I know this shit is boring but ya pops gotta graduate next semester.” Poor Chloe, for the rest of the day she was carried from one part of campus to the other against her will and in every one of Erik’s class people stared in amusement at him.

When the day was over Chloe was finally down for the day and would be until she woke up Erik and Bianca at ten. For the first time in two weeks Bianca checked on the baby while Erik started researching his topic for his paper. After ten minutes of fussy cries, Chloe was down for good and Bianca went back to her room. That was how things worked with them; they were roommates who just happened to have a child together. At around eleven Erik called it quits, he managed to get plenty of work done and even came up with an outline with notes scribbled hastily in the margins.

He didn’t even have the energy to look through his father’s journals which surprised him. All Erik wanted was something to eat and to get some sleep before the next time Chloe woke him up. He grabbed a slice of pizza and ate it cold and drank half a can of Dr. Pepper before heading to his room. Chloe was there in her crib sleeping on her back and didn’t make a sound as he got ready for bed. “Good night inkosazana.”

Inkosazana = princess

taglist: @buttercupwuzhere  @killmogersgurl  @uhlxis  @killmongurl  @killmoncoochie  @killmongerdispussy  @black-mcu-imagines  @blackgirloneshots  @blackbxbe  @brianabreeze  @ourwakandanerik

[spaceplacepoetry-blog]

What is Afrofuturism?

I wanted to take this course because 1) I needed more credits to graduate on time and 2) as an english major I am getting really tired of just reading old, dead, white guys. After a lot of those classes, themes, symbols, etc gets very predictable and doesn’t excite me academically or creatively as much anymore. 

When I saw the title of the course I was like “Cool we’ll talk about Black Panther” but had no idea what else was in the genre. And then looking at the syllabus I saw Get Out and I was like, wait but that’s a horror film? I thought Afrofuturism was “just” African American science fiction. 

But after our web lecture I got the sense that Afrofuturism has many different elements, of course science fiction, but also horror, fantasy, and revisionist history. I had never thought that all of these different genres had that much in common with each other, but all together that is a start to what Afrofuturism seems to be. I was also intrigued by The Cost because it reminded me a lot of a twilight zone episode, not a specific one, but the story could have been an episode with its eerie and ironic nature. 

What I want out of this course is to inspire me to other possibilities of writing, both in a sense of finding new people to read but also for inspiration for my own poetry. But I’m not sure how that will make a better world.

It would be cool to have a more diverse set of writers etc to reccommend to my friends, and if I do end up going to grad school and a teacher then I want to have more to offer in my syllabus than old, dead, white guys. There just has to be more to include in school. That’s how I would better the world. 

Worldbuilding in Black Panther shows the different genres or ideas of afrofuturism, except for horror. The revisionist history is in the beginning of the movie when they describe how Wakanda was made, a different beginning to modern day Africa, with some elements of fantasy/science fiction in the vibranium material. Of course there is Science fiction with space ships, and it is a super hero movie with is another type of fantasy, but it also combines real tribe patterns and rituals from what I understand from our conversation today. So that brings in elements of religion/ritual as well. 

Overall, Afrofuturism seems to be a collection of many different things making its own identity.

[ethereal-tempest]

All the Stars (BP College AU) Pt. 4

A/N: And from the shadows i crawled out and posted this long awaited continuation of ATS , which could quite possibly be trash but I do hope you like it! DM or inbox me if you would like to be tagged in the parts to follow. Also I will have some news about my life in general and the posting of future fics coming towards the end of the month so be on the look out for that! and as always sorry for any mistakes!

WC: Like 1,500+

T’challa x reader

Warning: language. but you already knew that.

Prompt: Love is complicated and confusing, it can be the most blissful feeling in the world. Or it can the reason your heart crumbles and shatters. Which will it be for you?

“...do the feeling haunt you?”

You and Ayo spent the rest of the day binge watching you favorite TV show greys anatomy for the 100th since you wouldn't have much free time once school started up. Eventually she went back to her apartment and you were once again by yourself but you pushed the sadness and loneliness away taking the time to think of ways you’d be able to start fresh and focus on school. No boy drama, none of that lovey dovey clouding your reasoning or work ethic. You may have a fling or two on the side but they were strictly that and nothing more, it would be you and your degree this time.

You woke up around 6:30am and began getting ready for your first day, deciding to dress up a bit or at least look like an actual human since the rest of the year you would look like a total zombie. Not to mention your plans for after class.

By the time you finished getting dress and doing your make up it was already 7:30 and time for you to start heading to class, it was only a 10 minute walk from your dorm but to be on the safe side it would probably be best to leave now.

And of course, your stroll to class was nothing short of hellish.

 Apparently everyone had the genius idea to try and get to class early and bombarded the sidewalks with large crowds making it hard for you to maneuver through. 

Thankfully the crowed thinned our as your rounded the corner entering the building for your 8 class at 7:50, you sat down in your seat 5 minutes before class was supposed to start and released a sigh of relief. You took out your notebook and laptop and doodle on your paper for a bit before class started. You glanced up as the clock hit 8 find it odd that you had not seen your professor or any familiar faces yet but realized some students were still filing in.

 “Is this seat taken?” “No I--” The familiarity of the voice made you still but it was when you looked into his face that you were truly froze, “Uh-Um n-no it’s not.” You said to T’challa as he sat down, hell you figured you’d have to talk to the man eventually seeing as that he appeared to be popping up everywhere you went but having a class with the him was more than you expected. 

“You look good, great actually.” you let out a nervous laugh, subconsciously thanking yourself for deciding to look nice for once and mumbled out, “Thank you.” He nodded his head as he took out his notebook, just as he was about to say something else your professor walked in at 8:15, “Good morning class, excuse my tardiness seeing as though i’m not a morning person you can expect me to be a few minutes late, attendance is required here and i don’t allow tardiness often so as long as you’re here before me we should have a problem. Now everyone grab a syllabus and lets begin.”

Your professor, Dr. Ginny Lawson had to be the sweeties woman you’d ever had the pleasure of learning from she taught literature but her class was always less of a class and more of an experience, you sat in a few times during your junior year and knew you had to learn from her. “Alright everyone, now for your first assignment you will be doing a research paper on the difference is the romanization of old literature to that of now literature. 12 page minimum.” the whole class groaned and seem to sank as she spoke but all perched back up with hopeful ears as she said, “Since this is the first assignment of the year i will be merciful, you’ll all have a partner. Turn to the other person at your table and say hello, you two will be spending lots of time together.” Your eyes widened as you looked at your professor, the tables were set up with two people seated at each and of fucking course T’Challa was at yours, why couldn’t you have just been the bitter and ruthless ex and tell him he couldn’t sit? “Take a few minutes and get to know each other, exchange information so you can later meet up and decide a plan to conquer  this assignment. I want papers on my desk by next Wednesday. Whenever you’re finish your free to leave.”

This was it, you managed to avoid much talk with the man all class but now you had to talk with him. “So—“ “I’ll ask her if she can switch partners.” He said before you could get a full sentence out, you just stared at the man uncertain of what to say, 

“I know this is awkward enough by us just being in the same class.” he said as he stood and moved towards your professor, you were too shocked to say anything as he walked away, had you treated the man that badly? Not like he didn’t cheat on you. Thought your inner voice but something in you still held out hope that he didn’t and it was that part of you that caused you to call out his name. 

A name that dropped so easily from your lips and sounded like music to his ears, a name you honestly thought would never having meaning to your life again but felt so right as you said it. “I-Its fine T’challa. It’s not that big of a deal right?” you noticed the bit of strife the man held in his eyes about the situation knowing it still ate at you, but you dismissed it all as you lightly touched his forearm before pulling back and give him small smile. “You still have my number? Send me a text later today with your schedule and i’ll do the same.”

The rest of the day was spent going to different classes and listening to your teachers speed through their syllabus, thankfully you managed to continue to be a hard working student in the past three years which would allow you to have a fairly manageable last year. 

You finished you last class around 3 and checked your phone seeing a text from Shuri. Still on for coffee? you had almost forgot as your replied back, Of course, is now good? a reply came through instantly Sure is. you chuckled and typed it a reply, Meet me ‘Heart-shaped Cafe’ after getting her confirmation text you head to the cafe yourself.

“Shuri over here.” you said as you waved her down to the table you sat at, “This cafe is amazing.” said Shuri as she looked around still gazing at the small yet beautiful building. “I know they changed it a bit since the last time i was here, it used to be my favorite spot on campus.” “why’d you stop coming?” She asked with a curious look in her eyes, “Me and your brother used to come here together, It was the first place we went on an actually date when we got here.” 

You smiled thinking back on the memory, while a sigh left your lips, you looked up at shuri who held a sad smile on her face as well, “Sorry for the bad memories.” you shook you head as the waiter began walking towards you to take your order, “They are far from bad, matter of fact I wouldn’t change them for anything.”

Your orders were brought out quickly and your and Shuri laughed and caught up on each other’s lives over the past 3 years.

“So about this man that had the audacity to cheat on a queen such as yourself, what’s his name?” you thought for a moment, Shuri must’ve had no idea that her brother had been the one to do it first but that was further in the past than you wanted to go with her, “Erik Killmonger, one of the hottest men on campus and now one of the dochuest.” 

Shuri squinted her eyes as she placed her hand in her chin, “That name sounds so familiar.” “He is the captain of the basketball team, plus if you do go here you’ll hear just about every other woman talking about wanting to bone him.” “I think he’s trying to become the new chapter leader of the beta rho beta.” “How’d you know that?” 

Jesus the girl was more in on what was going on in your college but it’s not like you’d been going there for three years. “T’challa was telling me some prick was trying to challenge him for it.” a small smile raised to your face, “So he finally beat M’baku? That’s good, i know it was important for him to follow in your father footsteps from when he went here.” Shuri gasped as she said, “You remember that?” you scoff as you finish your coffee and say, “Of course! It was one of the things on his list of ‘must do’s’.” 

You chuckled before continue on and saying, “He even said once that he’d stay in college an extra year so long as it meant he became the head of the frat one day.” You stayed in your reminiscent state for a bit longer before coming back to reality and noticing Shuris watchful eyes. “You know he misses you.” 

You shake your head in disbelief and sigh, “I doubt it, i mean he’s the king of the campus, he can have any woman he wants. He didn’t want me then so why would he want me now?”

Poor, Poor Y/N has no clue, more went down that dreadful day three years ago. I wonder when it will all come to the light? Once again thank you all so much for reading and shoot me a DM if you would like to be tagged!

TAGS: @marvelhaven @artistic22dragon @fandamad @vanessa-monique @nostalgic-uncertainty @potatopoop09 @akimi-youngblood @elaindeereadslexeeehhh @sprinkleofpoop @wakandab @aieyr @sadpimpcess @who-wants-toknow @angeli-fucking-cat @destinio1 @yourwonderbelle @a1iahwitchybabe805 @mysweetestkiss @fallenangelfangirl@watch-out-for-thorns @wakanda-sometimesitssammyjay @rishlo @greenswishbish (if your URL is bolded it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(. )

[jameson-capital]

What You Can Learn About the Future of Cities from Wakanda - CityLab

What You Can Learn About the Future of Cities from Wakanda – CityLab

Citylab has pulled together a Wakanda Reader, or online bibliography of sorts, to indulge those who are interested in the larger questions around urbanism implicated in Black Panther. We would call it a syllabus, but there are already several syllabi available—this #WakandaSyllabusfrom Walter Greason, an economic history professor at Monmouth University and founder of the International Center of…

[multiversitycomics]

Comics Syllabus 007 - World of Wakanda and Moon Girl with Grace Gipson, plus Non-Fiction Section with Michelle White

On the Comics Syllabus podcast, Grace Gipson joins Paul to talk about "Black Panther: World of Wakanda" and "Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaurs" portrayal of black female characters; Multiversity columnist Michelle White shares good non-fiction comics "Feynman," "The Green River Killer," and "The Influencing Machine."

On this week’s Comics Syllabus podcast, researcher, teacher, and podcaster Grace Gipson joins Paul to talk about “Black Panther: World of Wakanda” by Roxane Gay, Yona Harvey, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Alitha Martinez, and others, and “Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur” by Amy Reeder, Brandon Montclare, Natacha Bustos, and others from Marvel Comics. We’re really excited to have Grace (on Twitter @GBreezy20 )…