#yahya x black character

[berberriescorner]

Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part One)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part One) 4,100+/9,000+. Sorry, lovelies, I couldn’t stop😆.

A/N: Yes, it’s lengthy, but the idea snowballed into something unexpected. I hope you all enjoy it!

Inspired By:

Lounging lazily on your king-size bed, you laid on your back comfortably in an oversized t-shirt. You silently scrolled through Instagram. Your breath hitched at the feel of fingertips gently stroking your calves. Still staring at the phone screen, a wicked little idea popped into your head. You smirked, tapping the add a new post button. Using your free hand, you positioned it atop the head that rested on your pelvis and between your thighs. Not wanting to give him reason to stir, you gently stroked his head, and he relaxed into your touch. The movement of your hand paused long enough to snap the picture. He was none the wiser as he continued to search for something to watch on HBO Max. Eyes still searching the screen, he turned his head slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“Soft ass thighs.”

A soft moan fell from your lips. You made sure Yahya’s face wasn’t in the shot. Your digits glided across the keyboard, adding a Nicki Minaj lyric as the caption, “My man full, he just ate💦😘.” You tapped the post button and laid your phone on the nightstand.

Yahya had just licked you to tears. No one knew about the two of you. That you started as best friends turned into a sneaky link. The both of you have secretly been trying to figure out what this was morphing into. Unsure of where things were going, you decided to keep things quiet. You both enjoyed teasing the people in your inner circle on IG (they were all extremely nosey). Thus the reason for posting said pic—that it would sometimes get a rise out of the other person was a bonus.

Yahya received a notification that you had posted. Still lying between your legs, he teased, “What thirst trap are you posting now?” He froze, seeing a picture of his current position. He huffed, “You for real?”

Yahya rolled over, still lying on top of your stomach. His hand rained down on your thigh.

“I thought this was supposed to be on the low? You damn near ripped my head off for telling my bro I was over here in the middle of the night. I guess the rules only apply to me,” Yahya grumbled. His face changed from frustration to a sly grin.

“Boy, calm down. Nobody’s going to know that’s you. That’s what makes it so exciting, you teased. “And why do you have that stupid grin on your face?”

“I just noticed the caption, so I’m your man now?”

“Don’t do too much. They’re just lyrics. Relax, my guy.”

“Yeah, right. When are we going to stop playing this game?”

“What game, Yah'?”

“Stop acting like this isn’t more than just a sneaky link now. I’ve been blowing your back out for over four months.”

“And I greatly appreciate it. Why do we have to get into specifics? We have amazing sex. No need to make it more complicated.”

“Are you dating anyone else? I know you better not be fucking anybody other than me, Y/N.”

“I’d hardly call a few dinner dates that haven’t gone past friends, dating. It’s been nothing but innocent, Yah'.”

His jaw ticked at the revelation of you being in the presence of another man’s company.

“For the record, I don’t make a habit of having more than one sexual partner. That’s your thing, not mine.”

“You refuse to let that shit go, huh? I slept with her one time! We had just started whatever this was at the time. I cut her off once I knew this wasn't a one-and-done situation. Who exactly did you go on a date with, sweetheart?”

The question and term of endearment dripped with jealousy. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for more confrontation. There was no doubt in your mind that the answer would upset him.

“Michael. I know you don’t like him. We just went on two dates. Nothing happened, Yah'.”

He pulled into a seated position on the mattress.

“Out of all these thirsty ass dudes that beg for your attention. He had to be the one you said yes to. How many times have I told you that’s a waste of your time? How do I get you to understand that he just wants to knock you down?”

“Is that not what you’re doing with me?“

“Stop that shit. You know how I feel about you. Your ass doesn't want to hear it because you’re scared. We both know this could be so much more.”

“This is stupid. Why are we arguing? We’re not a couple. This is supposed to be easy and chill.”

“There you go deflecting as usual,” he sighed.

“Do you want me to delete the damn picture, Yahya? It’s the reason this conversation even took place.”

“No, no. Leave it up. You know what? You’re right, love. Lay back down. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.”

Yahya was the least bit worried about your IG post. It was only for close friends, and he wanted them to wonder. Acting angry was just a means to an end. He had a reason to get his lick back. Now, he had an excuse for what he was planning.

Hearing you went on two dates with Michael sent jealousy coursing through his veins. He made a mental note to keep his enemies closer. Seeing that you were focused on the show, he went to Instagram. Yahya went to Michael’s page and added him to his close friends. 

He wanted to see how your friends were reacting to your photo. He pulled up your page and skimmed through the comments. Yahya chuckled at your best friend's comment. In bold letters, she said, “Okay, best friend! I see you! No clue who that is, but get that head in your comfortable bed! Yaaasss👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾. I expect full details and a face reveal when we link tomorrow. I’m tired of all this damn anonymity.” Yahya laughed, knowing that you weren’t giving up any information.

Yahya waited two days before he put his plan in motion. He hit your line, inviting you for a movie night at his place. You were sure the night would end on your back with Yahya between your thighs. Anytime the two of you were alone, your hands always seemed to roam. Every time you two gave into temptation, it would go for rounds. Knowing this, you brought an overnight bag. He knew just how to put you to sleep.

Only twenty minutes into the movie, you were already at the edge of the mattress. Yahya placed you on all fours with your box braids wound tightly around his hand. He tugged at them, pulling you into the most perfect of arches. His free hand crept to the top of his nightstand. You were plunged deep into the throes of passion and hadn’t noticed him pick up his phone. The only light in the room came from the television. Pistoning in and out of your tight walls, he managed to open Instagram. Yahya needed it to be pitch black to pull off his scheme.

“Nobody watching this shit for real, baby. Alexa! Turn off the tv in the master bedroom,” he groaned.

The tv shut off as he pulled out and slammed back into your slick heat.

“Ye-yes. Fuck, baby,” you cried, arching your back deeper.

His face lit up at that. He continued giving slow, deep strokes as he recorded you both in the dark.

Yahya made sure this was for close friends only. With confirmation, he laid the phone on the mattress next to the two of you. He proceeded to put in work, going crazy in your walls. Your sweet, soft, and sensual moans were like music to his ears. You were used to Yahya laying some good pipe, but tonight he was on demon time. This man was trying to tear your walls down and ruin you for any other man.

“Feel me deep in your shit, baby?”

You moaned in response.

He thrust so deep that your hands instantly flew to his abdomen. You tried to push back against his stomach, wanting him to take it easy on you. He growled, binding your wrist with his free hand.

“Move your fuckin’ hands,” he half moaned, half growled. His hand let go of your hair and rained down, smacking and grabbing your left cheek. He slapped the right cheek before burying his digits in your braids again. “I thought you could take all of it, baby? That’s what you begged for. Right, love? Hmm? This ain’t what you wanted?”

You whimpered.

A faint “Please, Daddy” escaped your lips. 

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“I can-ah!”

“Yes, you can, baby. You gon’ be my good girl, and take it,” he whispered, trailing kisses down your back, fully sheathing himself inside you. His length tapped that spot deep within you.

 “Y-yes, baby, I’ll take it, g-give me that di-Yes, Yah'!”

Yahya tapped at your spot repetitively, sending you spiraling. You buried your face in the mattress, clawing at the bedding. Your release approached, barreling toward you like a freight train as you attempted to muffle your screams in the sheets.

“Good. Fucking. Girl. Each word was highlighted with another thrust. “Yeah, come just like that, mama.”

Satisfied with himself, Yahya ended the video and posted it to his stories. He hoped none of your closest friends would recognize your voice. There was only one person he needed to figure it out, Michael. Yahya knew you were going to throw a fit, but so long as nobody could see you. He felt he could get you to be cool with it. Leaning against you, he licked, nibbled, and kissed your shoulder. He was still plunged deep inside you and solid as a rock. Yahya’s lips trailed over to your ear. Releasing a deep groan, he rasped, “Hope you got one more in you, love. Daddy needs to come too. He pulled out until it was just the tip. About to respond, he plunged deep inside, forcing you to gasp. Yahya pulled two more orgasms from your body before spilling inside you.

He made quick work of getting a warm cloth to clean you up. You moaned at the sweet actions of his aftercare. Yahya smirked at how easily it was to turn you on. He swaggered into the bathroom and finished cleaning himself up. 

Collapsing into bed, he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours. Rolling onto your side, you pushed back against him, making yourself the little spoon. Yahya’s hand crept from your thigh and up the side of your body. His large palm found its destination as it gently cupped your breast. His lips left light kisses on your shoulder and neck.

“You’re always trying to cop a feel,” you sassed, sucking your teeth.

“You know this is my emotional support Titty.”

“Shut up, Yah',” you giggled.

Yahya bit his lip and smirked as he tweaked your nipple.

“Uhn-uh! If you’re going to be on my body like this, your ass needs to behave and sit still. I’m exhausted thanks to your big dick bandit ass,” you teased.

“You know you like that shit,” he responded, tugging at your nipple again.

He pressed his semi-hard erection against you. The action caused your breath to hitch.

“Tell me you don’t want me again, and I’ll let you sleep,” he whispered, nibbling your earlobe.

About to reply sarcastically, you lost your train of thought as he dipped his hand between your thighs.

“You were saying something, love?”

“Fuck, you don’t play fair,” you panted.

“Come here, mama. Want you to ride me.”

Sliding down his length, it became clear you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

“Yah', baby,” you whined.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m going to make you feel good. Ride me, mama,” he urged, guiding your hips.

Though he had fallen asleep satiated and peacefully, his morning was the opposite. Yahya jolted out of his sleep as he struggled to breathe. You had covered his face with a pillow while chastising him.

“I just know your big-headed ass didn’t record us fucking and post it to close friends! Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me.”

Yahya's hand tugged at the pillow over his face. He snatched the pillow, throwing it across the room. He overpowered you, flipping you onto your back as he smirked.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want your side hoes to find out about me?”

“The only side hoe I have is you.”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’m your main dude. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“Whatever! You better hope nobody recognizes my voice, freaky ass,” you kissed your teeth.

“Oh, I hope they do,” he smiled. “You’re not even mad, for real. I know that shit lowkey turns you on. Listen to those pretty little moans, mama.”

You did your best to bite back a smile but lost. Yahya licked his lips, giving you a million-dollar smile.

“I know I sound good. You ain’t gotta sweat me or nothin’.”

“I should’ve left the lights on while I recorded that shit. Give them something to really talk about.”

“You want to tell people we fuck so bad,” you teased.

“It’s going to come out sooner or later. I’ma make you mine, shortie. You can continue to run from it but in the end. You’re going to be mine.”

Wanting to avoid such a touchy topic, you switched the subject.

“Boy, shut up and feed me. I’m hungry. What’s for breakfast, best friend?”

Yahya smiled devilishly, “This dick.”

“Nasty ass. I want food, Yah',” you whined.

“That’s a whole ass meal, fuck you mean?”

Eyes rolling and smacking your teeth, he laughed.

“I forgot how cranky you can be in the mornings. Let’s get the baby’s tummy full. What do you want to eat, baby girl,” he responded in his best baby voice.

“Can you make french toast and bacon? You make it better than I do,” you asked in a cute tone.

“You know I can’t say no to that voice and face. Come on, spoiled brat,” he teased as he slapped your thigh.

Yahya scooped you from the bed, dangling your body over his shoulder. His hand grabbed a handful of your behind, giving it a loud smack.

“Ouch, Yah'! That hurt,” you whined.

“I didn’t mean to smack it that hard. My bad,” he smirked, rubbing the pain away.

“Lying ass.”

Carting you off to the kitchen, he got you fed and full. Neither of you had anything planned. The two of you spent the remainder of your Sunday binging television and ordering takeout. 

When the time came for you to head out, Yahya felt his chest tighten. He was sad to see you leave. If only you two could figure out where to go from here. He’d have you sleeping in his bed every night. Little did you know, your best friend’s feelings for you had existed as long as the friendship had. He just never knew how to tell you. The chemistry and attraction lingered between the two of you. That is, until one drunken night, he did something about it. He fell back on his couch, missing you already, as his mind drifted back to that night.

You were spiraling down a black hole of heartbreak. Yahya came running to offer support and a listening ear to vent to. 

His fist balled up, jaw flexing as his memory replayed the image of you opening the door. 

Your eyes were bloodshot and glassy as you did your best to keep from crying again. Yahya’s heart sank seeing how distraught you were. He stepped closer to you, and in a low baritone, he said, “Hey, mama.” The sympathy in his soothing voice sent a fresh trail of tears rolling down your cheeks. He sighed as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. Yahya’s chin rested on your head as you curled into his chest, body trembling as the tears flowed. “You’re going to be straight, mama. I promise I got you,” he soothed, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He gave you a minute or two to let it all out. Releasing you, he bent back, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears. Yahya leaned forward, sweeping you up bridal style. “Let’s get you comfy on the couch. I’ll fix us some drinks and snacks. Then you can tell me everything, alright?” Giving him a faint nod, Yahya kicked the door closed. He made quick work of getting you situated on the couch. Yahya wrapped you in your comfort blanket. Gently kissing your forehead, he whispered, “Be right back, love.”

He called from the kitchen, “Are you in the mood for something light or heavy?”

“This calls for the hard shit. Bring the tequila. I don’t even need a damn chaser. Give me something that will make me forget the last twenty-four hours.”

Yahya strode back into the living room, alcohol in hand.

“What are you about to tell me, love?”

“Maybe you should take a couple of shots first.”

Yahya set the shot glasses and bottle on the coffee table. His hand ran down his face as he took a deep breath, “Am I going to have to beat his ass?”

You sat up straight, dropping the blanket around your waist. Pouring two shots, you answered, “Just promise me you won’t lose your temper.”

“No.”

“Yah', please,” you begged, voice trembling.

“The desperation in your voice tells me that I’m going to regret this, but fine, I promise not to lose my temper. What happened?”

“Drink first.”

Shots were thrown back, and you grimaced, pouring out two more. After the second, you started to pour another round, but Yahya’s hand gently grasped your wrist, “No-.”

A small whimper fell from your lips as his eyes grew. Yahya’s eyes darted from your weary ones down to your wrist. His hands were like lightning as he slid your sleeve up a bit.

“No, fuck that, mama! Is this a bruise?” 

“You promised, Yah'.”

“Promises are meant to be broken. Where the fuck is his punk ass at?”

He sprang from the couch, searching his pockets for his keys.

“Where’s he at?”

“No, please, Yahya. You promised! I handled it.”

“Why are you protecting his bitch ass? Has he been putting his hands on you this whole time?”

“I’m not protecting him. I know he’ll press charges against you. It’s not worth it. This is the only time it’s happened, honestly!”

“Don’t lie for him. Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.”

“I’m not lying, Yah'. This is the first time. I handled it, I swear. You should see the side of his face. I smacked the shit out of him.”

“Did he hit you anywhere else,” he asked, checking your face and body for more bruises.

“No, I’m telling you the truth. We were arguing about him getting caught up in his lies and cheating. I told him I was done and that he needed to get the hell out of my house. This dude had the nerve to snatch my wrist, demanding I hear him out. I told him he was hurting me. His response was he didn’t give a fuck. That pissed me off, so I slapped him. He charged at me, and I kicked him in the nuts. How do you cheat on me with a bitch I called a friend and have the nerve to be mad that I no longer wish to be with you? The audacity!”

“I pray he tries to show up while I’m here.”

“He won’t. It’s over, and he understands that now.”

Yahya looked at you, not quite believing it.

“I told his ass if he tried contacting or coming near me again that you’d beat his ass. That or he was going to have a chat with Nina.”

“Thought you didn’t want me to put hands on him. You swear your ass is tough with that baby Glock. Who the fuck puts hot pink on the butt of their gun,” he retorted.

“I don’t want you to, smart-ass, but he knows you would. It was only said to get my point across that I was done with him. Not too much on my baby, Nina.”

Yahya sighed, frustrated that he’d have to keep his promise. He reclaimed his spot on the couch, crossing his arms irritated. You kissed your teeth, “I know you're not mad at me for keeping you out of trouble?”

“It’s whatever. He needs his ass beat, though,” he sulked.

“Just leave it alone, Yah'.”

“I heard you the first time.”

The room grew quiet. It stayed that way for a little while. That was until he heard you sniffling.

“I’m not mad at you, love. I just really want to rock his shit.”

“I know you’re not mad at me. It’s just.”

“What is it, mama?”

“Am I not good enough? Dudes do me dirty, and people I call friends turn out to be grimy. You’re the only person who has always been down for me. I’m so thankful for your years of loyalty and friendship,” you rambled, tears sliding down your face.

Yahya pushed his anger aside, taking a deep breath. His hands reached for your arm, pulling you into him. His palm cradled your head, guiding you to lie against his chest. He kissed your temple, speaking words of encouragement.

“That’s just god's way of making room for the real ones to come into your life, mama. You’re going to be alright, love. You’ll shake back from this. You’re strong, girl. The right man is out there. He’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

As he held you, speaking enlightenment into you. Something shifted inside you. Not quite sure what the feeling was, you shook it off.

“More tequila,” you offered.

The pair of you went shot for shot. It only took a short time for you both to get drunk off your asses. In a drunken stupor, you both laughed as you recounted the numerous times you had to fake a climax with your ex. Yahya was in tears, holding his stomach, laughing uncontrollably.

“This man had to be talked through eating the box. Every. Single. Time. At what point do you finally get the gist of eating pussy? I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did.”

“Why did you stay?”

“The dick was big.”

A hand flew to your mouth, covering your lips, shocked at what you had just revealed.

“Sorry. That was probably too much information. I need to stop drinking,” you slurred, no longer able to look him in the eyes.

Yahya cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Not too much. That’s some pretty useful information,” he rasped.

Your breath hitched as you looked into his chocolate orbs.

“I don’t follow.”

“That’s what you like, mama?”

Yahya’s hand trailed to your neck. His fingers circled your throat, giving a light squeeze. You knew you should pull away, but your mind and body said two different things.

“Yahya,” you whispered.

“Answer me, mama. That’s what you like?”

You moaned, nodding your head yes. Yahya licked his lips at your response. 

“I want to hear you say it, love. Tell me what you like. I want to make sure you understand what I’m trying to say,” he groaned.

The liquor urged you to take it further. You leaned closer, his hand still squeezing your throat. Lips only inches apart, Yahya watched in awe as you answered, breath tickling his lips.

“I love a big, long, thick di-.”

Before you could finish the sentence, Yahya groaned and devoured your lips. Not giving it a second thought, he slid you on top of his lap as your tongues battled for dominance. Hand still placed around your neck, you ground against his lap, loving the groan he released. 

“I can see why that was useful information now,” you purred.

It was evident, even inside his jeans, you could feel that he was massively large. You pulled back, slipping your shirt off, dropping it to the floor. His eyes sparkled at the sight of your breast as he cupped them, kissing and suckling your neck.

“Are you sure this is what you want, mama?”

“Yes, I want you, Yah'. Fuck the pain away, please.”

Kissing your lips again, he held you close as he raised from the sofa. Arms wrapped around his neck. You tasted each other's lips as Yahya carried you to the bedroom. The following morning wasn’t even awkward. That’s probably because you woke up with Yahya’s head between your thighs. A serious discussion occurred over breakfast. Though you both decided it probably shouldn’t happen again, time would reveal that it was too late to turn back.

I know I left it on yet another cliffhanger, but that's my specialty😆. I got my lovelies, though. The fic is complete, so slide on over to part two. Before you go, leave a comment and tap the love button. Reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

[lokiondisneyplus]

Marvel Studios has reshuffled the release dates for its slate of television shows.

What If…? Echo, and Agatha: Coven of Chaos, now titled Agatha: Darkhold Diaries, are among the titles receiving new dates. The move comes amid Hollywood’s strikes as well as a general pullback at Disney+.

The writers strike began May 2 while the actors went on strike July 14, significantly impacting production and development. At the same time, sources say Marvel wants to focus its efforts to make each title an event for fans and audiences. The studio has decided that spreading out its content is a more prudent strategy.

It’s a far cry from last year’s San Diego Comic-Con, when Marvel unveiled plans for Phase 5 and Phase 6 of its movies and television shows. 2023 particularly heavy with shows, with five planned. (Only the spring’s Secret Invasion, October’s Loki and as The Hollywood Reporter can reveal, What If…? season two remain of that plan for this year.)

THR poked around the Marvel scheduling changes and here’s what sources say is the new rundown:

As previously announced, Loki season two will be the only show to hit this fall, debuting on Disney+ on Oct. 6. Despite what some call superhero fatigue, expectations remain high for the Tom Hiddleston-Owen Wilson-fronted series that centers on alternate timelines. The season two trailer had the biggest digital debut of a trailer for any Disney+ series, and season one remains the most-watched Marvel series on Disney+.

The second season of Emmy-winning animated series What If…? will debut around Christmas Day, although it should be noted the animated show is not a holiday-themed series. Like the namesake comic on which its premise is based, What If…? is an anthology series that looks at key moments in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how they would look in different timelines. Jeffrey Wright returns as the voice of the Watcher, the alien narrator. What If…? was originally slated for an early 2023 release.  

Echo, a spin-off from last year’s hit Hawkeye, was originally announced for Nov. 29 but has now shifted to January 2024. The series stars Alaqua Cox as a one-time head of a criminal organization who returns to her hometown in Oklahoma to come to terms with her past. The series, which centers on a character who is deaf and of Native American descent, is described as having a grittier and more grounded tone than some of the other Marvel series and will feature appearances by Daredevil and villain The Kingpin. As previously announced, all the episodes will drop at the same time.

Next on the schedule will be X-Men ’97, the animated series that acts as a spiritual and tonal continuation of the classic 1990s series that aired on Fox. The series, first announced in 2021, was originally planned for a fall 2023 debut but will now premiere in early 2024 The show is being described, by sources who have seen it, as retro and a love letter to the original. A season two remains in the works.

Agatha, the WandaVision spinoff starring Kathryn Hahn, was originally announced for a winter 2023 release has been pushed back to early fall 2024, where it will serve as a lead-up to the Halloween holiday. The show, which completed its filming before the strikes, was previously titled Agatha: House of Harkness and then Agatha: Coven of Chaos before falling on its currently name, Agatha: Darkhold Diaries.

Ironheart, a show focused on  genius-inventor Riri Williams (Dominique Thorne) first introduced in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, was to have dropped this fall but that is now off the schedule. It finished shooting but its completion is affected by the strikes.

Daredevil: Born Again, a continuation of the Netflix series in the MCU, was expected to debut in spring 2024, paused in mid-production amid the strikes. Wonder Man, starring Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, was also paused in mid-production.

It is unclear where on the calendar the three series will end up.

[queermediastudies]

pov: ur queer with extra steps

A Striking Vipers review by Trinh Pham.

“I fucked a polar bear and I still couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

Yeah, that’s pretty intense. It isn’t necessarily the typical ‘I care about you’ or ‘I still love you’ message we commonly hear, but it is a powerful statement.

This was a line said by the character Karl from Black Mirror’s ‘Striking Vipers.’ Black Mirror is a show that tackles the implications of advanced technology and the people who interact with it. In this particular episode, Black Mirror takes a shot at challenging the broad spectrum of queer identities. The public response to ‘Striking Vipers’ was very mixed. Some were upset with the stereotypes and stigmatization that ‘Striking Vipers’ represented on screen, the ‘queerbaiting’, or even the failure to fully represent queer, black bodies. Others argue that the usage of stereotypes does not have to be harmful, that Black Mirror’s ‘Striking Vipers’ utilizes stereotypes to provide an exploration of the correlation between black masculinity and sexuality. This representation opens conversations to these stereotypes surrounding queer (specifically black) men.

‘Striking Vipers’ takes on the story of two estranged, college best friends, Anthony Mackie’s ‘Daniel’ and Yahya Abdul-Mateen’s ‘Karl’, who share a heavy bond over a Mortal Kombat-esque game called Striking Vipers. They reunite at Daniel’s birthday party, where Karl gifts Daniel Striking Vipers X. The game had evolved from a controller, button smashing street fighter into a stimulated, hyper-realistic, virtual reality where the players inhabit their avatars. The players inhabit all sensations of their avatar and can behave freely within game realms. After selecting their avatars, the two enter the world and act on desires that will ultimately change the dynamic of their relationship. Initially, they played the game as it was intended to be played, virtually fighting each other as their chosen avatars. However, their virtual interactions quickly escalated into an erotic entanglement. 

Reminiscent of old times and old habits, the two always select the same avatars as before. Daniel selects a karate master named Lance as his fighter while Karl takes on Roxette, a ninja. Their first fight places them in the typical, back and forth, horizontal view of street fighters. However, it only takes them a few rounds to realize the true potential of their existence in the game. In their final round of the match, they begin to wrestle and roll around, trying to pin one another down. The interaction ends with Roxette (Karl) on top of Lance (Daniel). Roxette leans down to kiss Lance. Lance freaks out, pushes Roxette off of him and the match ends with them shouting “Exit game!”

Let’s go back to the point where they realize they can move freely. A street-fighter-type-game may not be the what most people think of when they think of queer representation in a game. But, “video games offer opportunities for resistance,” (Ruberg & Phillips, 2018) and the ability to be whoever and do whatever, even if it goes against the intended purpose of the game, might be the biggest resistant punch in the face. Rather than fighting, they take this virtual opportunity to explore their sexual identity and desires. 

“Black queer youth are often criminalized when they attempt to express themselves,” (Hutchinson, 2017) making it difficult for them to fully experiment and explore their identity. “In African American community, studies have shown that specifically gay men struggle for acceptance,” (Doiron & Marsigliano, 2020) only furthering their reluctance to explore and express themselves. Daniel and Karl are both black men who have different experiences in adulthood. Daniel is a suburban father with a wife, son, and a beautiful yard for his kid to play in. Karl lives in the city with his label and is known to be quite the bachelor. While their first virtual kiss interaction may have ended in confusion and a sense of discomfort, it was only the beginning. Before you know it, they consistently get on the game to have virtual sexual intercourse with one another. One night, Karl hits Daniel with an ‘I love you’ as they are having sex, taking Daniel with absolute shock and frustration. He doesn’t know how to handle the intimacy and it shocks him back into his reality where he cannot be intimate with another man.

At the end of the day, their similarities are as stated: black men who engage in virtual sex while having women in their non-virtual, ‘real’ lives. Except, being in a virtual reality game is the only place that feels ‘real’ to them. A place where they get to keep their sensations, their feelings, where they get to live and act out all their desires without the consequences of a label or definition of their sexual identity, expression, or fluidity is what they need to feel ‘real.’

Fluidity was a special mention and a strong argument for Karl, who as a black man, chooses to play and have sex as Roxette, an Asian woman. He has been using her since the game was on controller and console, but how far do loyalties go with your main avatar when it comes to having sex as them? He could easily choose to play as a man, but he instead sticks to a woman. He even goes as far as describing how it feels to be a woman during sex:

“It’s crazy. I mean, it’s different. Like… the physical feeling of it? It’s more sort of… satisfying. I can’t really explain it. Like one’s a guitar solo, the other’s a whole fucking orchestra.” (32:50).

Playing as a woman allowed Karl to experience the sensations that he was unaware of as a man. It allowed him to explore the fluidity of his sex and gender, something he wasn’t able to do comfortably in his real life. But the consistency of their sexual engagements did more than allowed them to experiment and explore. It heavily represented the linkage between black men and hypersexuality. Sexual socialization is ubiquitous to the human experience, but due to historical oppression and marginalization, “black men continue to be perceived as animalistic, predatory, hypersexual beasts,” (Lipscomb, p. 22). Black men internalize these historical contexts and manifest it into their everyday behavior, minimalizing themselves to sexual beasts. Daniel and Karl both have women in their lives and yet their virtual sex is so captivating, it distracts them from their real lives and partners. They are both quick to dismiss their loyalties in exchange for ‘a fucking orchestra.’

But inevitably, these two men had to confront their actions. After one of their sexual exchanges, Karl says, “Guess that’s us gay now,” to which Danny looks over at him in discomfort and awkwardness. This is the direct result of black men being deprived of the ability to safely explore their sexuality, burying all desires that go against heterosexual norms. To lighten the mood, Karl then says that it’s a joke. Daniel responds with, “it don’t feel like a gay thing.” 

Daniel and Karl reproach the ‘gay’ aspect of their relationship another time. This time, Daniel tells Karl to meet him at an old nightclub they used to frequent. There, the two kiss to figure out whether they are gay or even just attracted to one another. After they kiss, they look at each other with sorrow and agree that they don’t feel anything. Even then, Karl argues that there is something there, that their experience is different in the game. This causes Daniel to get angry. The ‘man box’ that defines many black men are forced upon limitations that “... require them to act hard, emotionless and aggressive in order to avoid being singled out as different.” (Hutchinson, 2017). Not wanting to fall into the same cycle of being caught up in sex while also confused by his sexuality, Daniel breaks out into a violent fit.

I made my initial argument about Black Mirror’s ‘Striking Vipers’ ability to open up conversations through the usage of stereotypes as being a good thing. I made this argument as a bisexual Asian woman, excited to see on screen representation of queer people of color. I made this argument as an enjoyer, as someone who wanted to be happy about a gay story in one of the most popular Netflix originals. But I also have to make an acknowledgement to the issues of this representation. 

'Striking Vipers' ends with Daniel telling his wife about what he and Karl had been doing. She accepts it and allows him to continue doing this, but only on his birthday. In a way, this feeds into the negativity of emotionless black men who participate in casual sex without the intimacy and strings attached. I also want to make note of the fact that their one kiss in the rain is the only intimate the two characters, as black men, had in this episode. All other forms of sexual intimacy were carried out by their avatars who were in a hetero presenting relationship. The reluctance to show sexual intimacy between two black men suggests queer acceptance remains limited, that even if you get representation, it will never be enough.

Despite all its flaws in representation, Black Mirror’s Striking Viper is still an incredible story of two black men using what they’ve got to figure themselves out. Stereotypes will always be harmful, it is only a matter of how you use them.

References

Brooker, C. (2019, June 5). Striking Vipers. Black Mirror. episode.

Doiron, A., & Marsigliano, J. (2020, July 24). Black and gay in america: How A 'subset' of men struggle for acceptance. Williamsburg Yorktown Daily. Retrieved November 3, 2022, from https://wydaily.com/news/local/2020/06/26/black-and-gay-in-america-how-a-subset-of-men-struggle-for-acceptance/

Hutchinson, S. (2017, March 6). Moonlight, black boy and teachable moments. Moonlight, Black Boy and Teachable Moments – The Feminist Wire. Retrieved November 3, 2022, from https://www.thefeministwire.com/2017/03/moonlight-black-boy-teachable-moments/

Lipscomb, A. (2019). Sexual healing: How racialized black males use sex to cope with stress ... Retrieved November 4, 2022, from https://scholarworks.wmich.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4134&context=jssw

Ruberg, B., & Phillips, A. (2018, December). Game studies. Game Studies - Special Issue -- Queerness and Video GamesNot Gay as in Happy: Queer Resistance and Video Games (Introduction). Retrieved November 3, 2022, from http://gamestudies.org/1803/articles/phillips_ruberg

[adamwatchesmovies]

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom (2023)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

I like DC’s roster of characters, and I fear this has blinded me to some obvious flaws in films like Wonder Woman 1984, Black Adam and Suicide Squad. I won't make that mistake with Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom.

Four years after the events of the first film, Arthur Curry/Aquaman (Jason Momoa) and Mera (Amber Heard) are married with a newborn son. Arthur is juggling his responsibilities as the king of Atlantis with his superhero-ing and fatherly duties when his enemy David Kane/Black Manta (Yahya Abdyl-Mateen II) reappears. Working with marine biologist Stephen Shin (Randall Park), Black Manta has obtained the mythical Black Trident. With it, he has the power to destroy Aquaman, his family and all of Atlantis.

This film has the pieces needed to construct a great story but doesn't know how. Unlike the other heroes in this universe, Aquaman has loved ones with super abilities. Even normal Atlanteans like his mother, Atlanna (Nicole Kidman) can hold their own in combat thanks to their enhanced strength, quasi-ability to fly (you can move in any direction underwater) and superhuman endurance. Mera can telekinetically control water. Black Manta is a regular, surface-dwelling human with a power suit. To get around this, the film hospitalizes Mera as soon as possible (was the decision made in response to Amber Heard’s courtroom drama? Who knows?), has all of Atlantis deadlocked in political squabbles that prevent them from doing anything - even though they’re all going to die if Black Manta isn’t stopped -, ignores elements from the first film (like that Leviathan we saw Aquaman commanding) and powers up Black Manta through magic strength. The setup alone feels cumbersome.

Black Manta’s plan raises the stakes appropriately, though I’m not sure how well it was really thought out. A part of you can’t help thinking “There had to be an easier way”. The point is, things are dire. With Mera and Atlanna unable to help, Aquaman needs to break his half-brother Orm (Patrick Wilson) out of prison and get him to help. Once Orm and Arthur are together, the movie picks up, largely because they form a tried-and-true dynamic. Aquaman is a goofball. Orm is serious. They’re former enemies, forced to work together. It worked so well in X-2: X-Men United but doesn’t here. Nearly every joke deflates the stakes rather than adds to the movie and with none of the action ever taking place on the surface world, Arthur is never the expert on anything. He’s always basically tagging along as Orm leads. Aside from the whole “waging war on the surface” thing he did before, you begin wondering if he wouldn’t be better suited as a ruler after all.

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom has lofty ambitions. It wants to say something about pollution and the environment but in the end, doesn’t make any worthwhile points. The catastrophic disasters are mentioned only to give Aquaman a ticking clock; it barely affects his adventure and the resolution is an afterthought. Family is also an important theme… but it’s hampered by Mera and Atlanna being removed from the action so early. These major issues at the screenplay level are augmented by details throughout that make this film feel like it wasn’t thought all the way through. Black Manta’s minions, for example. We often see them walking around in these bulky deep sea diver outfits that must be heavy, difficult to maneuver and hamper the wearer’s vision. Why would they be wearing those outside of the water? How did he even convince said minions to join him on this quest for vengeance?

On a more positive note, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom feels like a true sequel to its predecessor. Orm grows as a character. Aquaman does as well. We follow up on Black Manta. We get to explore more of the mythology and history of Atlantis. Even so, it’s a disappointment. I don’t think anyone bought the love story between Mera and Arthur in Aquaman. This sequel does nothing to help. Black Manta was not a particularly deep or compelling villain before and he isn’t now either. I won’t criticize it too much for not having Willem Dafoe’s Vulko return - the movie already has a lot of characters - but it’s a shame not to see him again.

As the last film in the DC’s cinematic universe, Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom is the equivalent of a shrug. The humor is much more miss than hit, the characters aren't used to their potential and the action isn't anything special. It does have a great mid-credit sequence - my favorite in a while - but overall, this is a clumsy, forgettable film. (Theatrical version on the big screen, February 11, 2024)

[ororowrites]

By the Open Fire - Yahya x Black Character

I’m getting back into the writing spirit and decided to write a little Christmas one-shot about my latest celebrity crush. Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa and Happy Holidays! 

Warnings: Very, very, light smut, fluffy as hell

Word Count: 2,664

Six months was entirely too long to be away from the love of her life. 

Candace tapped the tip of her pen against the blank page, hoping her writer’s block would magically disappear. Being an actress was so much easier than trying to write a novel. Why didn’t Candace just stick to her day job? Since the pandemic began, she was trying her hand at other talents and writing a novel seemed to be the one wish on her wish list that stood out. On top of Yahya being out of the country filming for most of the year, Candace was in search of a way to fight a depression that was on the brink of flooding her life. Her filming project had come to a halt until 2021 and she was stuck in her Manhattan apartment until it was safe to come out again.

Yahya would be home in a couple of days and Candace was looking forward to his arrival. So many months a part made her heart ache and the heart below her waist. After hundreds of facetime calls, numerous texts a day and a few Zoom sessions that included their shared friends, her man would be there in the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Candace cursed under her breath. The block wasn’t budging, forcing the actress to give up and retreat to the kitchen for wine. Her phone rang, interrupting her attempt to brainstorm for the next chapter in her book. “You always call at the perfect time,” she groaned at her twin sister on the other end of the line. 

“Candy, you can never just say hello like a normal human,” Trinity laughed. “But did mama call you with the latest gossip?” 

“No, but she’s been texting me all damn day. I’ve been busy so I haven’t checked them yet. Wassup,” she pressed, knowing the gossip was most likely church related. Their mother had been an usher at the same church since they were nine. 

“Girl,” Trinity exclaimed, before explaining the recent Chicago gossip. “Mrs. Jackson got caught cheating with James. Someone saw them out at the park together, kissing up on each other and all that.” 

“Ewww, in this panoramic,” Candace gagged. “I’m not shocked though. That old floozy was always flirting with daddy and almost made mama beat her ass one Easter Sunday. Remember that?” 

Trinity cackled, “Boooooy, mama was about to peel that woman’s skin back and break her neck. Ol’ girl was trying it that day and knows she is too old to still be acting like that. But enough about Florence, what have you been up to today? Ain’t your man on his way back to New York?” 

 Candace rolled her eyes because she knew where this conversation was going. Her sister had four children, leaving Candace the only childless sibling left in the pack of five children. 

“He’ll be back in two days and then we’re going to Colorado for Christmas. Since we can’t gather for the holidays, figured we’d go somewhere where we can safely distance ourselves but still get away. You know,” Candace said, swirling the wine around in her glass before taking a sip. 

“Mmmhhhhmmm. You gon’ get knocked up in them mountains,” Trinity added in a serious tone. “You two renting out a cabin or something up there?” 

“Ain’t nobody getting knocked up until she has a ring on her finger. Yes, we’re getting a cabin and just chillin’ out. Yahya has been working and needs a break. I’ve been....lonely.” Candace paced her kitchen, trying to think of an excuse to end this call before her twin irritated her soul. 

“Ya’ll haven’t seen each in months, he’s going to tear--” 

“Trin!” One major difference between the two of them was the lack of filter on Trinity’s part. The woman would say anything in front of anyone. “Look, I need to go straighten up before before Yah gets here. I’ll talk to you later?” 

Trinity sighed loudly on the other end because she knew her sister was rushing her off the call. Not liking people in her relationship business bugged Trinity because she was the nosey twin that wanted to know everything, much like their mother. “Well at least you won’t be needing to replace the batteries in that vibrator any time soon since the real Dr. Manhattan is back in the picture.” Before Candace could reply to the vulgar comment, Trinity squeezed out a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up. 

“Nasty ass,” Candace rolled her eyes and placed the phone back in the pocket of her jeans. 

The next two days were the same song. Candace’s brain did not want to focus on writing, so she eventually gave up and settled on online shopping to ease her frustration. The night her beautiful man was supposed to return, the actress fell asleep on the couch. His flight had been delayed by a couple of hours and he didn’t make it home until 3AM. 

He quietly entered the apartment, knowing Candace could never stay awake past twelve. The 6′3 actor, tip toed across the floor doing his best ballerina impression. Light snores could be heard over the infomercial playing on the television. She looked peaceful, almost child-like curled up on the sofa under her favorite coral throw. Yahya slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Candace’s pouted lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling under her breath and fell back into a slumber. 

“Baby,” he sung into her ear, placing another kiss on her cheek. 

“Hmm.” Candace finally opened her eyes to see her Christmas gift standing right in front of her. Even with blurred vision, the smell of his cologne was a dead giveaway. She screeched and scurried to her feet to throw her arms around Yahya’s neck. Naturally, her legs wrapped around his waist as he rocked them back and forth. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” he grunted, peppering Candace’s face in kisses. “My baaaaaaby,” Yahya sang as they fell to the sofa in a heap of long limbs. “It smells good in here, what you cook?” 

“Negro, you’re always looking for the food. Ol’ hungry ass,” Candace shook her head and playfully punched her lover’s bicep. “But, I saved you some fried rice and shrimp...homemade because that’s the only dish I’m good at.” 

“Oh, that’s not the only dish you’re good at,” he bit his lip, pulling Candace into a slow, passionate kiss, showing her how much he really missed her. With both of them being in the industry, they understood the heartache that came with being in a relationship and not seeing your significant other for weeks or months at a time. In this case, their time away from each other was extended due to the pandemic. “Mmmmm,” Yahya hummed into Candace’s lips before pulling away. He wanted to save the X-rated loving for their trip when he would have more time to rest and beat the severe jet lag from flying across the world for 12 hours. 

“We should get some food in this belly, babe,” Candace couldn’t contain the big cheesy grin that made her cheeks hurt. 

------- 

Christmas Eve 

Toni Braxton’s sultry voice filled the cabin as Yahya finished pouring the wine for their night cap. They had a busy day on the slopes trying not to kill themselves or break any bones. 

“Baby, where your fine ass at,” Yahya called out, making his way to the living room. The fireplace crackled, sending waves of heat throughout the cabin’s living area. The sun had set, but the mountains were still glowing against the dark sky. Their view was impeccable and the mood was set for a night of bonding and loving. “Candy, don’t make me come get you.” He warned playfully, sitting in front of the fire on their floor palette they had built earlier that night. 

“What was that,” Candace teased, stopping in the doorway getting a front row view of Yahya’s bare upper half. His back muscles bulged as he tended to the fire. 

“You back there sleeping, old lady,” he asked, with his back still turned away from her. 

“No, I was back there wrapping one last gift,” she replied, her voice dropping an octave prompting Yahya to turn around. 

His eyes almost fell out of his head, “Damn girl.” Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he moved forward, inspecting the gift that was screaming to be unwrapped. “This all for me?” 

“Every inch of it.” Her words almost came out as a moan. The way this man was eyeing her had moisture pooling between her legs. The fancy lingerie wouldn’t last long at this rate. Words became an afterthought when actions began to do all the talking. All it took was a soul turning kiss to send them both to the floor on their palette in front of the fireplace. Candace couldn’t tell if the fire had her skin tingling or the anticipation of having his hands rubbing over the most sensitive parts of her body. The wine and fruits sitting on the mantle quickly became an afterthought. 

For minutes, they enjoyed exploring each other and parts they hadn’t touched in months. Yahya was nestled between Candace’s thighs, both of them breathless and horny. Candace’s lace get up was quickly removed and thrown to the side. She giggled when his lips grazed her belly button, those giggles soon turning into pants and whispered obscenities. With gentle licks, he coaxed her clit out of its hood.

 Toys were fun but they weren’t the real thing and oh did she miss the real thing. See, the real thing knew exactly how to pull her close to the edge before sending her back. Her man’s skilled tongue sank deeper drawing intricate patterns in her center as she massaged the top of his head with her fingertips. 

Candace’s breath hitched in her throat and her thighs shook awaiting the impending release. “Jesus,” she moaned as her body suddenly felt light and her center thumped. 

“Still as sweet as I remember,” he grinned, kissing Candace’s inner thigh. 

Another track on their Toni Braxton Christmas playlist began to play and Yahya rested his head on Candace’s stomach. Time was precious and Yahya didn’t want to waste an ounce of the rare quiet moment they had. Soon, they’d both be filming again and the world would be back to normal. 

“What’s on your mind, baby,” Candace asked, her heart and breath back to a steady rhythm. 

“I don’t spend enough time with you. At least not lately,” he began. “I knew what I was getting into when we were back in school. Still makes me feel bad though.” 

“Yah, I enjoy all the moments that we do get to spend together. You’ve been working your ass off this year. Yes, I would love more times like this but we should also celebrate all your accomplishments. Because you’re doing the damn thang and I’m so proud of you.” 

“Thank you. You always say the right shit to get me together,” he chuckled. “Sometimes a nigga just be in his feelings and I missed the hell out of you those six months.” 

“Yeah, six months has never gone by that slowly. You should see my credit card statements. I’ve never purchased that many sex toys in my life,” Candace covered her face with her arm. 

“Word? Well.... you won’t be needing those sex toys for awhile.” 

A smirk formed on her lips when she felt him bump against her thigh, “No, no, you just sit back and relax. I got this.” Sitting up, Candace placed a hand on Yahya’s chest, prompting him to switch her spots. 

“You are beautiful,” Yahya’s eyes gleamed. After all these years, he could still make Candace blush like a little school girl. “Don’t hide that smile, girl.” His large hands massaged her thighs as she eased him inside of her. 

They both exhaled, letting Toni Braxton serenade them through the night.

--------- 

Christmas Morning

They had finally made it to bed and got a few hours of sleep before Christmas morning arrived and it was time to get up for their next day of adventures. 

First, they needed to re-fuel their bodies after the festivities that took place the night before in front of the fireplace and in the bedroom. The shower also got some of their loving that morning. Candace could hear Yahya singing his own version of Joy to the World while whipping up his famous oatmeal. That man never knew the words to any song but sung his own words with all the confidence in the world. 

“Yah, do you ever know the words,” Candace questioned, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing a bowl from one of the kitchen shelves. 

“Nope,” he replied in a matter of fact tone. “It’s the Abdul-Mateen version.”

“Uh huh, sure.” 

Over breakfast, they continued joking about Yahya’s talent of making up his own versions of songs. Joy and love was on full display. They had always been the couple to roast each other and the next minute adore each other like the two biggest saps in the world.. Their relationship was built on a strong friendship they developed while they were in film school before reconnecting a few years later. 

They walked a short distance to one of the coffee shops near their cabin to grab hot chocolate. It was a chilly 45 degrees, but to avoid sitting in the shop, they walked back to their rental, taking a scenic route that Yahya suggested. 

“If we get lost or I end up falling off one of these mountains, I hope my family doesn’t kill you,” Candace joked, admiring the beautiful scene before them. 

“Oh, I know where we are. I was out here early yesterday morning trying to find the perfect spot,” Yahya replied. 

“Huh, perfect spot for what?” 

He didn’t answer right away and instead reached for Candace’s hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Something I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.” Placing his cup on one of the rocks, Yahya pulled a box from his pocket and got down on one knee. 

“What...what...” For once, Candace was speechless and caught completely off guard. 

“It’s hard as hell to surprise you and I’ve been trying to think of the perfect time to do this without your nosey ass finding out.” Tears began to flow down Candace’s cheeks. “We’ve been at this for a few years and I’ve had some of my best moments with you by my side. I want to make what we have forever.” He opened the small box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring. “Say love... would you marry me?” 

Being the goofball that she was, Candace laughed between her tears “You’re trying to get me pregnant on this trip, aren’t you?” 

“Well that can be arranged if you say yes.” 

“Ye...yes, of course!” Her vision blurred as Yahya slid the rock on her finger and stood to his feet to kiss his future bride. Moments later Yahya’s phone rang with an incoming Facetime call. 

“Hey Trinity, hey moms,” Yahya cheesed, turning his phone to share the screen with Candace. “Looks like you two aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

“She said yes,” Trinity screamed, jumping up and down with their mother. “Aye, aye, ayyyeeeeee.” 

Still in complete shock and happiness overflowing, Candace shrieked, “Wait, you two knew about this the entire time!” 

“Yep! It’s been burning my ass to keep this secret from you all this time,” Trinity teased, sticking out her tongue. “He took mom with him to ring shop last year and everything.” 

“Welcome to the family, son. Congratulations baby,” Ms. Fredrick sang, clapping for the happy couple on the other end of the call. 

“Now, I hope you two are using protection out there because having a baby before the wedding is-” 

“Trinity,” Candace called out, shaking her head. 

They should have followed Trinity’s advice because approximately two months later..... 

Hope you all enjoyed! This is the first piece I’ve written in a year. I have no idea if I’ m going to continue the stories I began before my hiatus, yet. But, we will explore that in the coming year! Who knows, we may get more Candace and Yahya depending on how hard writer’s block slaps me. May the new year bring you all peace and joy! 

[doormouseetcappendix]

Recasting T-Challa

Super-Hero characters whose actors have been recast and or rebooted:

Super-Man

Batman

Spider-Man

The Hulk

The X-Men

The Fantastic Four

The Watchmen

The Punisher

Blade

Daredevil

Lex Luthor

The Joker

Catwoman

The Riddler

The Penguin

The Green Goblin

Spawn

The Tick

I know this is gonna be hard to hear for some but Super-heroes are immortal. They die and return in different forms often returning with new powers and costumes.

I find it odd that at the same time fans are celebrating the idea of multi-verses and multiple incarnations of the same characters (like we have to celebrate every possible version of Peter Parker and Spider-Man), but T’challa can never be re-cast because of too much “respect” for Chadwick Boseman. 

I’ve been posting about Black Panther since I started this page. I loved Boseman’s performance and mourned his passing. If you understand the importance of a character like T’challa (and why Boseman wanted to portray him in the first place) you would be demanding the character be re-cast and allowed to take his rightful place in the greater universe that is being built, like literally every other hero before him.

If T’challa is not recast then he runs the risk of becoming one of the curiosity characters forgotten to time (Dick Tracey, The Phantom, The Shadow) examples of a time and a place and little else. If he is recast than Boseman’s performance becomes the first of a legacy like Super-Man/Bat-Man/Spider-Man, something immortal and timeless, because every generation can have their own version.

This is no shade to Shuri, and yes I know she takes the mantle eventually, but for that to mean what it needs to mean T’challa’s story has to be told through to completion. Robin can’t just replace Batman between movies, we need to see the transition to Nightwing in between, for that character to have their own agency. When Shuri takes the mantle it should be because one story is completed and a new one is beginning, not actors swapping costumes mid scene. 

We need to recast Tchalla so here’s some actors who could maybe fit the range. My personal pick is Sope Dirisu of “Gangs Of London”.

From The Top:

Lakeith Stanfield, John David Washington, Yahya Abdul Matteen II, John Boyega, Shameik Moore, Theo Ogundipe, Aldis Hodge, Adrian Derrick-Palmer, Sope Dirisu 

[kumkaniudaku]

Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137 

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

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[eerythingisshaka]

Wish Granted Pt. 2

[Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black OC]

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:  I decided to make this a series and instead of reader, it is an original character. Strap in!

( Read Part 1 here)

That morning, Yahya and Corrine bask in the glow of the new morning sun, sharing a table by the front window enjoying eggs benedict, toast, with a stack of pancakes to share.  Corrine dipped some of her bacon into the leftover egg and sauce along her plate, chasing it with the remaining orange juice in her glass.  She goes to grab for more from the pitcher when Yahya’s hand surrounds hers.

“I have a flight tonight at 6,”  he says.

Corrine nods slowly.  “Ok.”

He looks sorry as he continues, “It got changed last minute.”

“Sure...can I ...pour my juice now?” Corrine asks, making Yahya awkwardly rest his hands on the table to allow you access to the pitcher.

“And with traffic, I should probably start getting ready to go now.”

Corrine sips her drink, wiping her mouth gingerly with the cloth napkin and sets it down.  “I gave you back that ring, right?”

Yahya nods.  “And your scarf is in your room at the hotel.”

“It’s not mine but...thanks.”  Corrine says quietly.  She pushes her fork around in the remnants of her plate, squeaking every so often against the porcelain.

Yahya leans forward.  “I still want to stay in contact.  Just because I live out of town doesn’t mean we can’t not see each other, you know?”

Corrine smiles with wide eyes like he just said something offensive.  “If that’s what you think, that is fine.  But honestly how would that work?  I couldn’t keep a guy to get a proposal and I spent at least half of my 20s hanging with him.  Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Yahya sits back, looking out the window for distraction.

“I mean I am fine with a one night stand.  Thank you for being what I needed at the time, it was definitely a night I will never forget but let’s not make this weird.”

Yahya sighs, looking around for presumably the waitress and pulls out his wallet.  “I can’t believe you’re flipping like this.”

“It’s not a flip, just...this happens.  Like, come on Yahya, we don’t know each other.  Can you seriously say you want to try and make this a long term thing base don our track records?”

Yahya puts some bills on the table.  “I thought you hadn’t done this before?”

Corrine shrugs.  “Ok, truthfully, not since college had I done this before.  Before...him,” she says with a cringe.

Yahya folds his arms across his chest looking at her with amazement.  “So you really used me?  I am your rebound and now you’re backing out?  Or is it because I am not conveniently at your beck and call now that you’re scared to try something new?”

Corrine scoffs.  “I don’t need to explain it, I made it clear.  Long distance will not work.  That’s it!”

“I disagree.  And I want you to see that I am right and you’re wrong.”

“Yahya…”

“Corrine….”  Yahya says, biting his lip playfully.

Corrine rolls her eyes, pulling out her purse to rifle through it.  Not able to find a piece of paper, she takes an unused napkin and scribbles on the front with her dying pen.

“Look, I will give you my number.  Do with it what you want, I’m not holding you to it though,”

She hands it to a confused look Yahya.  “I could just give you my phone to put it in?”

“I’m old school.  Plus, watch you accidentally use it and mess up the ink or ball it up thinking it’s trash.  I wanna know you can be responsible with an important document such as that napkin with my number on it.”

Yahya looks at it, puts it down and grabs a five off of the stack of bills he had set on the table.

“Let me borrow that pen,”  he asks, scribbling his number across the front of Lincoln’s face.

“Whoa!  What are you doing?”  Corrine asks, leaning to get a glimpse for herself before Yahya gives her the defaced bill.

“And here is my number.  If your theory checks out, it shouldn’t be hard to keep up with or lose, unless you accidentally spend it on some shoes or a new purse, right?”

Corrine glares at him.  “Ha Ha.  Here, let me at least put some money back on this since you probably just took the girl’s tip money for this.”

Yahya waves her off.  “Please, it’s still 20% without it, we good.”

Corrine folds the five up in a side pocket in her bag.  “Then that’s it right?”

Yahya stares through the table, nodding blankly.  When he looks at Corrine he fights a smirk.

“I really had a good time.”

“I did too.”

Yahya and Corrine step out of the restaurant, parting with one last hug as his car arrives to pick him.  Corrine holds him close, smelling the fresh soap from the morning shower he took just a couple hours ago.  His shoulders and back solid under her hands, she imagines if she lifts her feet, he wouldn’t bend or fold even slightly.

His hands spread along her back before sliding slowly around her waist, kissing a spot behind her ear that makes her curl back and chuckle.

“I’ll call you,”  Yahya says inches from Corrine’s face as she nods.  “You gonna call me?”

“When you call me, I will,”  she says, putting her hand to the side of his face, trying to memorize every feature and feeling it gave her.  One last kiss would make her fly in the cab with him, so she backs off, waving goodbye.

A month goes by and Corrine has finally packed up all of James’s things in two boxes.  She sits on the couch staring at them sat next to her front door.  His life with her fit in just two boxes?  They weren’t officially living together yet but he spent so much time with her that it seemed like there would be more things.  Most of it is laundry that needs washing and DVDs he brought over because he refused to buy them on digital again.

Corrine scrolls through her phone absentmindedly as she waits.  A message pops up that makes her jump out of the blue.

Hey, how’s your morning beautiful?

It’s fine for now.  Still waiting on him.

Don’t let him bother you.  Just tell him to the left and leave!

Of course girl.  Why mess with a beyonce blueprint?

Works every time!  Also, don’t forget to meet us for our lunch date after.

Sounds good.

Corrine gets up to check out of her patio door and sees his car park outside.  James strolls across the grass, which instinctively makes her cringe.  She always told him to watch doing that so he doesn’t end up walking in dog shit.  

She waits for his knock patiently, not wanting him to know she saw him already.  Her phone chimes again.

Outside, it reads.

Corrine groans at the rude tone of his one word text.  As she opens the door he’s leaning on the frame in a way that reminds you of one of Danny Zuko’s boys from Grease.  Leather jacket on even though it's 85 degrees out, distressed blue jeans that fit snug around his lean legs with some schmegular all white Adidas.  

“I already packed your stuff,”  she says, walking backwards to point to the left as practiced.  James takes one step in with his hands in his pockets and looks to his right at the boxes.

“I could’ve done that,”  he says in a bored tone, looking back at her as if she is visiting him without notice,

“I asked you every week for the past month to come get it.  You think I’m going to wait for you to poke around here and find every little thing of yours on your own?  I don’t think so.”

His fingers find their way around a curl of hair in his high top fade.  “What’s all this energy about though?  I thought we could be cool about it?”

“Why would I be cool about anything with you  after you left me by myself in the city when we were supposed to be celebrating your promotion, right?  But you recall what happened instead?  After 5 and a half years together?”

“I wanted to talk to you in person-”

“You hadn’t done that either for a month, have you?”

James’ jaw flies open.  “Because the only thing you got to say is about picking up my stuff!  You never asked to talk and you didn’t answer my calls!”

“I shouldn’t have to ask to talk!  I’m not the one that said I can’t do this no more!”

“Are you sure Corrine?  Cuz you never acted interested in shit with what I got to do.  You don’t listen to nothing I got to say.”

Corrine scoffs loudly as James kneels to look through the boxes. 

“I never helped YOU?  I got you into a respectable corporate job that paid BILLS for the first time in you life when your cooking career wasn’t pulling weight like you hoped it would!  Now you can earn some capital so you can open your business steadily and not fall flat on your ass!  I gave you so much more mercy than you ever did for me!”

James sucks his teeth and comes to a standing, towering over Corrine.  “I stood by you while you worked to do this lawyer shit you got goin on.  Long nights studying in the living room, out to the library, hell week after hell week to pass your bar.  I barely got a kiss from you at your celebration party.  You always doin the most!”

Corrine grips her temples, completely taken back.  “I can’t believe you’re saying my ambition is a reason to leave me.  I can’t succeed while you’re down and out or you feel less of a man?  Is that it?”

James picks up his boxes in both arms.  “Shut up.”  He walks out the door heading for the steps.

“No, now I got it!  You want me to just stay quiet and patient while you figure things out but I couldn’t carry our relationship for you!  I needed your support too, whether I am studying for hours on end or you’re taking a month long business trip, only to come back unemployed!”

James was out the door about halfway down when he looks back at her.

“You think I wouldn’t know?  I got you that gig, how would I not check into it?  They said you never showed up.  Why?”

James looked off, sighing deeply like a load was taken off even though he was carrying two very heavy boxes.

“You had to get away for a month?  What were you doing for that long that you didn’t tell me?”

James continued to not look at Corrine.  His mind battling with what to say and what not to say was killing her as she looked for him to speak. 

“I won’t take you back James, I just want a good excuse so I can hate you less.  I thought you were going to marry me when you booked that room for us at that fancy spot.  But you broke my heart so bad.”

James continued to walk down the steps without a word.  Corrine watched him pack his car and turn on the engine to peel out.  

--

“Girl, and that’s what he did?”  Simone exclaimed over her half eaten salad.  Her pressed hair pulled back in a bun already gave her a naturally alert look, but Corrine’s turmoil made it that much more apparent.

Corrine pushed around a meatball in her spaghetti.  “That is all he did.  I have no closure to it.”

Bria pats you back gingerly.  “You’ll be fine and he’ll be fine.  It’s just because the break up is still fresh that y’all couldn’t come to an understanding.”

Corrine sits back and shrugs.  “Maybe?  But that’s a big ass lie he dropped on me.  He was gone for a month.  He could have a whole family in another state for all I know.”

Simone points at Corrine, big brown eyes bucking.  “That’s why I told you he look like Cousin Skeeter if he were a real man.  He is just as goofy too.  Nobody should leave for a MONTH without saying anything.”

Bria nods, adjusting her tortoise shell frames.  “He is not worth a thought but you take all the time you need to get past it.  Just move on.  You gave him chance after chance up until the last moment.  It’s time you got to breathe on your own.”

“And speaking of,”  Simone lowers her voice.  “You hear from our hotel daddy yet?”

“Oh God, don’t bring that up now,”  Corrine whines.

“Simone!”  Bria hisses.  “She hasn’t heard from him yet, and honestly by now, there would be some explaining to do instead of dating.”

Corrine lays her head on the table.  “Why is life so hard?  I can’t have a good time with nobody!”

Simone and Bria offer pats as her tears are absorbed by the tablecloth.

“Hey, you know what?  You do still have his number…”

“Simone, no.  I can’t.”

“But!  Instead of cutesy whats up and stuff, you can tell him off maybe?  Give him the lashing every wrong you’ve received deserves.  It might not be constructive but a quick shot of feel good sounds pretty good, right?”

Corrine sits up, dabbing her eyes and feeling the avalanche of snot coming to her nose.  Her cries put all ugly cries to shame.

“I just...it was...he said...he’d call!”  Corrine squeaks out between sobs.

One month turned into two, and so on until Corrine forgot about that night at the hotel.  Busying herself with work was the best thing she could do in order to keep herself feeling good from day to day.  That and happy hours with her girls who vigorously scoped men out for her as her wingwomen.  

Sometimes when she is turning in for the evening, she picks up the base of her little desk mirror to find the $5 bill under it that Yahya scrawled his number on.  The more she looked at it, she wasn’t sure if it ended in a four or a nine, so it’s probably best she kept from calling in order to not look foolish on someone’s phone.

James and her never got back with each other either.  But Corrine is more ok with that.  She figures whatever skeletons he has are bigger than she can manage and she deserves a break.  But Yahya seemed so good and promising, she couldn’t believe she got bamboozled that hard.  He could’ve left that morning, allowing her to sleep away the future but he gave her hope instead and that got snatched away.

So Corrine filled her days digging into practicing law and running errands and not much in between.  But she was ok.  Without the extra baggage of men in her life she felt as if she might’ve unlocked a new level in life.

---

“As you all know, the construction on the new building is being negotiated with several architects in order to get a broad scope of what design would fit the future of our practice the best for years to come.  Let me remind you all that if it weren’t for your dedication to your work around here that we would not be one of the most sought after and winningest law office in the state.”

Applause fills the conference room for Hogel of Garrett, Hogel & Truman as Corrine takes notes on the meetings main points.  Most of the meetings are supplied with a bullet list of the main topics, but she does not enjoy just sitting and staring or she is liable to daydream.

When the meeting comes to a close, it is close enough to the evening and the weekend that she hopes will allow her to get off early and head straight for bed.  Her feet kill her in the stiff three inch pumps she wears for ten hours straight, and her local Chinese spot was calling her name for some springfield chicken.

When she makes it back to her desk, her heart flips with joy as she sees no new files to review and archive, and since she got ahead of her projects for the week, it seems the weekend has finally begun.

She kicks off her heels to slide into her worn in athletic shoes, feeling her feet melt into the dips that the insole has created to mold to her feet.  Her heart beats in the bottoms of her foot from being released from their patent leather binding which is both uncomfortable and satisfying.  But even if they were chopped off at the shin, these feet would lead her to her car and get her to her home paradise.  

Corrine walks down the hall to the elevators, hearing noises from people as she gets close.  She feels a little anxious, preferring an empty elevator at her departure time but is willing to deal so that the exit is quicker.

As the group of voices rounds a corner leading away from her, she sees a man standing head above the whites that surround him.  A navy blue suit fitting tailored to wide set shoulder funneling down to a slim but sturdy waist, made her knees buckle a moment, causing her to slow her pace forward.  He walks away, laughing one of those polite laughs one gives to company they want to impress.  He hits the elevator button, listening to one of the partners speak until his gaze travels over them and spots her.

She feels her brain black out and her heart fall out of her ass and flight took over in her fight or flight response.  

“Corinne!”  he calls after her, but she pays him no attention rounding the corner.  Stairs would have to work, no matter how much her feet her from the day, anything would do over having to see him make up whatever excuse he had to not call her.  And what the hell is he doing at her job?  Is he a lawyer?  Is he looking for counsel?  What if he is a fraud that manipulates women and sues them for some old timey bullshit laws like alienation of affection.

She thanked God that coincidence didn’t find him in the parking garage as Corrine finally made it home but settled on some leftovers she had in the fridge instead of her beloved Chinese food.  At this point she still hadn’t calmed down from earlier.  What if he is at the Chinese place?  Where the hell does he live anyway?  To be in the same area as her work, he couldn’t be far.  She couldn’t remember where he said he was from, if they even covered that much information but she was not going to entertain his presence, he is a ghost to her.  

In her bedroom she takes the five and slips it in her purse to make sure she spends the bill, like it's the reason he is back.  She will have to treat him like a ghost.  He won’t know she ever waited for him or thought about him after that night. 

[chaneajoyyy]

Yahya fics babe?

Here you are mamas!!!

YAHYA FICS (I WILL ALSO BE ADDING HIS CHARACTERS TOO!!)

- mopped up, drinking partner, collect call (dr. manhattan/watchmen), pose (calvin jelani/watchmen), between. details (anthony mccoy/candyman)-   @ghostfacekill-monger

- feral series (on ao3 -same name), ghostface-killmonger’s birthday fic - @teakturn

- arranged series- @royallyprincesslilly

- (1) new message series, old habits die hard series, happines over everything (h.o.e.), attention wh*re, room for two- @essaysbyciara (scroll for yahya abdul-mateen ii x reader)

- the real one, hc: falling for him- @plussizeappreciationfics (search: yahya abdul-mateen ii)

- that one time, on the clock series, always, wish granted, quit playin-  @eerythingisshaka

-  seven seas (david kane/black manta)- @shydragonrider (search: david kane)

- candyman- @vikkidc

- be careful what you wish for series- @deliciousstreetkidcroissant (scroll for dskc masterlist)

- hey, neighbor series- @kumkaniudaku

- take you to paradise baby?- @tgigoldie

***PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANY OF YOU!!** 

[twistedcharismaaa]

✨Master List ✨

Erik Stevens x Black Reader

The Red Door

Summary: You and Erik have a lot of shared history together but because of recent events you’re scared that you’re going to lose your best friend. Maybe he’s still there ... behind that red door?

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Black Reader

If Walls Could Talk…

Summary: Yahya wonders if walls could talk .. what would they say?

Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader

The Boring are the Most Interesting

Summary: You have been dealt an unfavorable hand and you’re trying to make the best of it. Maybe your new roommate Trevante can help you with that? 

Aldis Hodge x Black Reader

Happy Birthday

Summary: Aldis’ plea is finally heard.

Marcel Gerard x Black Reader

The Lost King

Summary: The journey of a king coming into his own.

My Happiest Moment

Summary: Marcel reminisces about his happiest moment.

Masego (Micah Davis) x Black Reader

Lost & Found

Summary: You’re living a suffocating life and you find breath in Masego.

No Rain, No Flowers...

Summary: Masego (Micah Davis) eases your worried mind.

Dancing To His Own Drum

Summary: Masego (Micah Davis) finally faces the music.

Orange Moon

Summary: Masego (Micah Davis) reminds the love of his life how bright she is.

Pick Apart a Gemini’s Mind....

Summary: A poem that Micah Davis (Masego) wrote while he’s waiting for Charisma to arrive in South Africa.

Prone

Summary: Masego (Micah Davis) is prone to making bad decisions.

His Lost Words

Summary: If Only Masego (Micah Davis) could find the right words.

How Oil Transforms Into A Flame

Summary: Masego (Micah Davis) tries to make his lover feel his love.

Silk Dreams

Summary: The creation of Masego (Micah Davis).

I love you, I swear I do…

Summary: Another poem written by Masego (Micah Davis) as he thinks quietly about Charisma.

Menace

Summary: A supernatural journey starring Masego (Micah Davis) and Tanerélle (Velvet).

Can We Pretend…?

Summary: Two souls longing for the same escape. 

Lakeith Stanfield x Black Reader

Create With Me?

Summary: Lakeith goes for a peaceful stroll through the park and stumbles across a gem.

Contemplating...

Summary: Lakeith contemplates on how he should make his first move.

Tanerélle x Black Reader

Night Fire

Summary: Two lovers make extraordinary music together.

A Love, You Can Only Dream Of…

Summary: Tanerélle dreams of a world where only her and her lover exist.

Giselle

Summary: A sneak peek of Giselle from The Red Door series showcasing her many powers.

Bonnie Bennett x Black Reader

The Birth of Bonnie Bennett

Summary: The journey of Bonnie Bennett (Kat Graham) coming into her own.

Original Characters/Stories

Pleasure

Summary: Two souls indulge in the act of pleasure.

Soul On Fire

Summary: Under the night’s moon a soul has finally been set ablaze.

[berberriescorner]

Nobody's Gonna Know

(Part Two)

Characters: Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as himself x Black!reader (woc!reader), Michael B. Jordan as himself (appearance), and Kiana Ledé as “Jerrika” (appearance).

Summary: What happens when you realize what you’ve always wanted was right in front of your face the entire time?

Warnings: Profanity, daddy kink (you’re not surprised), smut, mentions of violence, drinking, and did I mention smut already😈?

Word Count: (Part Two) 4800+.

Inspired By:

The sound of his phone snapped Yahya out of the flashback. A smile crept across his face as he swiped to answer.

“Ain’t been gone but a minute. You missing daddy already, love?”

“You’re so annoying. I was calling to let you know I made it home safely.”

“Thank you, love. I wished you could’ve stayed one more night,” his tone was affectionate and sensual.

Yahya always made his words sound both rugged and soft with you. It was both erotic and sinfully sweet, causing butterflies to flutter inside you.

“You still there, mama?”

You cleared your throat, trying to hide that his voice was affecting you. Changing the subject, you continued, “There’s a kickback Friday. It’s at my sis’ house. You're coming, right?”

He smiled to himself, knowing he made you feel some type of way. In a raspy voice, he asked, “That depends. Are you staying the night afterward?”

“I’ll meet you at your house later in the night.”

“Why not just arrive and leave with me? Nobody’s going to suspect anything.”

“I would, but she invited Michael. He’s asked me to ride with him.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Are you mad? I can call back and make up an excuse.”

“That’s okay, love,” he answered in a curt tone.

“Doesn’t sound like it-.”

“I’m good. Listen, I got a few things to handle. I’ll hit you back later.”

Yahya ended the call, not giving you a chance to respond.

This shit ends Friday. I know just how to make him go ghost. I’m done playing games with this woman.

He scrolled through his contacts, tapping the name he was searching for. The phone trilled twice before he heard the familiar voice. Making small talk, Yahya waited for the perfect moment to put his plan in motion.

“Hey, Jerrika. How’s it going?

“Oh, yeah? That’s wassup. Listen, I was wondering. Do you have plans for Friday night?”

“Perfect. Be ready by eight. I want you to ride to this kickback with me.”

Yahya made more small talk, and she told him what she had been up to lately. As he listened, a twinge of guilt pulsed through his chest. His mind was riddled with second thoughts. Using her this way made him feel a bit guilty. He wanted to be truthful with Jerrika. Interrupting her mid-sentence, he explained his intentions for Friday night's kickback. To his surprise, she appreciated his honesty. Jerrika wasn’t shocked-they had known each other awhile. She had an inkling Yahya was attracted to his best friend. Not only was she aware of his feelings. Jerrika offered to help out in any way she could. Yahya spent a few more moments on the phone discussing the plan.

Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head. Thoughts racing through his head, he contemplated whether his plan would help or hurt things. He cleared his mind and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. Yahya’s phone dinged right as he started to nod off. Groaning, he snatched it from the nightstand. You had texted, “Not you hanging up on me mid-sentence. Goodnight to you too, mean ass.” Truthfully, he felt like a dick for abruptly ending the call. Also, for what he was about to pull Friday night. It felt like his only option that would give you the push needed. He quickly texted you back, “I’m sorry, mama. I promise to hit you first thing in the morning. Goodnight, love.”

Friday had come around much quicker than you anticipated. Your sis had hit you up early that morning. She begged for you to arrive several hours early to help set up. Being a helpful and dependable best friend, the request was granted. However, twenty minutes after your arrival, you started to regret it. 

The two of you hadn’t seen each other for a while. You were greeted with a lecture about not making time for girl's night lately. According to the crew, you had been neglecting your homegirls and spending too much time with your sneaky link. Defending yourself, you brought up the numerous times they brushed you aside for their new flavor of the month. To which they did not argue and immediately forgave you.

Believing you were off the hook, your best friend put you on the spot again. She grinned at you mischievously, “We cracked the case, sis.”

With a confused expression, you responded, “What the hell are you going on about?”

“Bitch, don’t play stupid.”

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about, sis.”

“We figured out who sneaky link is,” she smirked at you. “It’s about time you two dumbasses got together.”

You started to deny it, “What are you talking about-.”

“We know you and Yahya have been fucking around. Which one of your horny asses gave in first?”

You busied yourself with setting up the bar as you ignored her question. Snatching the liquor bottles and setting them down, your best friend crossed her arms, waiting for you to confess. Her foot tapped against the floor as the rest of your friends cocked their heads to the side. Rolling your eyes at the group of nosey ass women, you asked, “What makes you all think it’s Yahya?”

Each woman smirked at you until your best friend piped up, “If you're going to keep it low-key, don’t make a sound in your sexcapades while recording. Also, make sure your friends don’t know or follow him on social media.” 

Fucking Yahya and his pornographic IG story.

“Oh, it wasn’t just his mini-sex vid. I kick it with his homie. That little pic you posted? Yahya canceled plans with them that night. Naturally, he came to dick me down when plans fell through. I mentioned the pic, and we put two and two together.”

“Whatever, nosey ass Heffa. It’s not even that deep. We fuck around occasionally,” you snarked, rolling your neck.

“On occasion, my ass. You’ve been getting dicked down on the regular. None of us make it a habit to sleep with multiple people. Therefore that is a consistent dick down, and you know it.”

“Who else knows about us?”

“Pretty much anyone who knows what you sound like when you moan. Given that we were all roommates at one time, we, unfortunately, know what that shit sounds like. Your ass never could keep it down. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with us,” she smirked.

“You bitches get on my nerves. I’m going home to finish getting ready.”

“Don’t leave mad, best friend! We’re honestly happy you two came to your senses. Finally locked his fine ass down.”

“One, I’m not mad. Two, he’s not my man. We fuck. That���s it.”

Your friends gave each other a knowing look, irritating you further. You snatched your keys from the Louis Vuitton handbag. “I gotta go for real. I need to be ready by the time Michael picks me up.” A multitude of gasps sounded in the room. Rolling your eyes, you braced yourself for more unwanted opinions.

“Does Yah’ know you’re rolling with Mike tonight?”

“Yes,” you answered exhaustedly.

“And he’s okay with that?”

“What part of that’s not my man do you all not understand? Besides, Michael and I are just friends. Yahya knows that. He doesn’t believe it, but that’s not my problem.”

Is that a little petty? Maybe, but I don’t want Michael, honestly. We’re just friends.  If he expects more, he’s in for a rude awakening. It’s not like Yah’s not out here, entertaining bitches. I’m not falling for the bullshit with any more men. Best friend or not, men lie all the time…okay maybe that’s not fair. I need to work on trusting men again. On second thought, no, fuck that shit. Single is the best way to be. No games. No lies. No cheating. No heartbreak. I just need that superb dick and toe-curling head.

The sound of fingers snapping in your face pulled you from your thoughts.

“You not even listening to us. Girl, stop lying to yourself and give that man a chance. Yahya’s not like your past relationships. He cares for you.”

“It always starts that way. I’m good with being what we are.”

Before she could continue to chastise you for being scared, you dipped out.

The evening was already turning sour. Sitting on your best friend's couch, you watched as Michael made small talk with a mutual friend. His eyes scanned the room, landing on you as he bit his lip, giving you a seductive smile. One of your girls nudged you, “ I saw that face you made when he looked away. Are you two into it? Or are you still mad that we got all in your business earlier? 

“I’m fine,” you lied.

She looked at you, not believing a word you said. It wasn’t just the man that had accompanied you to the party. Though that was where most of your frustration came from, you were also irritated that Yahya hadn’t shown up yet. His text throughout the week had been short and sweet. You were starting to feel like he was avoiding you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you? Or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Sighing loudly, you started, “While I didn’t appreciate being interrogated earlier, that isn’t my issue.”

“Bitch! Just tell me why you have a stank-ass attitude,” she teased.

“I would if your rude ass would stop interrupting me,” you shot back. “I think I pissed Yah’ off. We had a conversation Sunday night. I mentioned the kickback, and he offered to come and leave together. He started acting weird when I told him Michael had already asked me to ride with him. I don’t understand why he’s angry. I told Yahya we’re just friends. That I’d slide through afterward.”

“Your green ass. It doesn’t matter what you say. Though you’re not interested, I’m sure Yah’ knows Mike wants to knock you down…real bad.”

“Trust me, that’s abundantly clear now. Michael’s not getting one ounce of this pussy. He’s about to find that shit out real quick. This ninja kept trying to rub my thighs on the ride over here. I had to cross my damn legs just to get him off me.”

Just as your friend was about to respond, she gasped. You nearly caught whiplash, turning to stare in the same direction.

“What’s wrong with your dramatic ass-.”

Glancing toward the entrance, you saw the person you’d been searching for all evening. The fact that he wasn’t alone sent a tiny sliver of jealousy through your body. Shaking it off, you rationalize internally, “Chill, sis. That’s not your man. That could be just a friend.” It did very little to tamp down the mild bout of jealousy.

You will not be petty and use Mike to make him angry. That thought was stomped out as his guest turned, and you got a look at who she was. This is why I’m single. Friend my ass. You chuckled bitterly as Yahya and his company made their way over to you. Are they holding hands? Oh, okay. Bet it the fuck up! Don’t give him a reaction.  They’re all the same.  Fine ass. Lyin’ ass ninja. Yahya greeted you and your friend as you gave him an expressionless stare. Introductions were short and sweet, excusing yourself after. Though he had irritated you, Michael called you over at the right time. You could feel Yahya’s eyes boring into your back as you crossed the room.

Being bold and not taking the hint from earlier, he slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you closer. As he attempted to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, you made eye contact with Yahya. You watched as his jaw ticked, and he draped his arm around Jerrika, pulling her closer to his side. Her hand slid down from his chest and rested on the abs you had traced with your tongue just last weekend. Yahya watched as your eyes narrowed at the gesture and smirked at you. His face fell as he watched Michael kiss your cheek. The look of disappointment was enough for you to step away from Michael. “I have to go check on the bar, be right back.” It was enough to keep him from questioning why you removed yourself from him.

Quickly glancing over the bar, you made a beeline for the kitchen. All you wanted was time to pull it together and gather your thoughts. Yahya, however, had other plans. He stood at the kitchen entrance, fixing you with an angry stare. Crossing your arms, you returned his glare.

“What,” you spat, rolling your eyes.

Yahya’s head leaned back, “You and your boyfriend looking real cozy out there.”

You laughed bitterly, “Says the one that’s here with the woman that he claims he’s no longer fucking. Is that not what you told me last weekend, friend? The audacity to have the very bitch you say you don’t want all in my face.”

“I didn’t lie. I’m no longer sleeping with her. You came with a friend. I figured I could bring one as well.”

“Difference is I haven’t had sexual relations with my friend. Can you say the same,” you questioned.

“Whatever, man. You’re tripping.”

“Be honest with me, Yah’. Are you still sleeping with Jerrika?”

“I just watched that thirsty ass dude damn near suck on your neck, and you’re seriously sitting here questioning my loyalty? You keep accusing me of shit. It’s making me wonder if that’s due to a guilty conscience. Why trip? We’re not together, remember?”

“That’s what this about? A fucking title? How many times do I have to say it, Yahya? I don’t fucking want-.”

Your sentence came to a halt as Jerrika stepped into the kitchen.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but could you show me where the bathroom is?”

Feeling slightly guilty for stealing Yahya’s attention, you offered, “This my sis’ house. I’ll show you.”

Jerrika winked at Yahya and turned to follow you out of the kitchen. That looks like a disaster waiting to happen. He wondered if it was wise to leave you and his date unattended. Just as he was about to go and check on the two of you, Michael entered the room.

“Ay, bro. Where’s your sis at,” he asked, referring to you.

Through clenched teeth, Yahya answered, “More like a best friend. I know things about her that siblings wouldn’t share,” he smirked at the expression on Michael’s face. “She’s showing Jerrika where the bathroom is. They’ll be back shortly.”

“You make a good point. Maybe you could give me some advice on her. Maybe put in a good word for me?”

The look that crossed Michael’s face made Yahya feel uneasy. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice,  not wanting anyone to hear.

“You saw that picture she posted of whoever it was between her thighs?”

Yahya chuckled knowingly, “Oh yeah. I saw that post. She seemed to enjoy herself that night,” he smiled at Michael’s cluelessness.

“That’s what I’m saying. You’re her best friend. Put me on, bro. I’m trying to take her thick ass down.”

“She posted up with another dude, and you’re still trying to slide? I don’t think she gets down like that.”

“If I manage to steal his shortie, that’s his problem,” Michael boasted.

“So you think my friend bounces from dude to dude? Watch your mouth, little nigga. You don’t know her like that to be making assumptions,” Yahya barked, approaching Michael aggressively.

“Chill, bro. No disrespect-.”

You and Jerrika had entered the kitchen as things had started to get heated between Michael and Yahya. Trading a knowing glance with your best friend's date, the both of you got in between the two of them.

“What’s going on? Calm down,” you soothed Yahya as you unknowingly rubbed his arm. Jerrika tugged Michael backward as well. Not wanting to ruin your evening, Yahya lied, “We’re just having a debate about sports. You know how passionate I can get, love.”

He didn’t want to spend another minute in Michael’s presence. Turning to Jerrika, Yahya placed a hand on her back. 

“Let’s go get you that drink you asked for earlier.”

As they walked past Michael, he leaned in, mumbling something.

“Good luck trying to fill her man’s shoes. Bro pretty much got her locked down. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

You watched as he guided her to the bar, hand placed above her ass. There goes that damn jealousy. Get it together, bitch. It’s just a sneaky link. Michael interrupted your thoughts yet again. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s rejoin the party.” His hand cupped your side as he guided you toward the music. The song changed, and Michael wrapped his arms around your waist.

“This my shit,” he groaned in your ear.

He pulled you closer, singing the words against your neck. The irritation for this man grew stronger with every unwanted advance he gave. 

His thirsty ass is getting on my damn nerves. I’m deleting this man from everything as soon as I get to Yah’s. If I’m even still invited. That’s right. I still want the dick. Thirsty hoes be damned. 

Michael's hand groped your thighs as he pressed up against you. You started to push his hands away and check him but felt fingers wrap around your wrist. With one strong tug, your steps fumbled behind a very pissed-off Yahya. Your mind hadn’t fully finished processing what was happening. It wasn’t until after he yanked you into a guest bathroom, closing and locking the door, that you started to catch on. Yahya pressed you against the door as his hand circled your throat. Wild eyes bore into yours as his chest heaved. He took a few moments to inhale and exhale.

“I don’t give a fuck what we are. He’s done touching you from this point on,” he said in a low and gravelly voice.

“Yah-.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. Whatever the fuck you two got going on. It’s done.”

“Last I checked, you’re not my father, and I barely listen to him anyway. Worry about what the hell you got going on with Jamaica.”

“You know that’s not her name,” he smirked.

“Whatever that hoe’s name is. Worry about what she got going on. Not me.”

“Your stubborn ass. You know damn well I brought that girl just to piss you off. It’s clear that it worked.”

“I’m not the one that got jealous and snatched you up like a rag doll.”

“Fine. I have no issue admitting I’m jealous. I want you, mama. All to myself.”

“You have me, Yah’. I told you I don’t want him, and I’m not sleeping with anyone else.”

“Let me be clear. I want you, all of you. Give me a chance, mama. I’m not all those other men that fumbled your pretty ass. Tell me that’s not what you want. Look me in my eyes and say it.”

“What’s wrong with the way things are?”

“What the fuck are you scared of? You can’t honestly sit there and tell me you don’t want the same. If that’s the case, you wouldn’t be salty over Jerrika.”

Yahya was right, but you kept letting your fear of another heartbreak cloud your judgment. You attempted to deflect.

“We’re being rude to our guests. Let’s go back to the party and finish this discussion later.”

“No, that shit’s out the window. You’re not going back out there so he can feel all on you. I told him you were dealing with someone. I even wished him good luck at trying to steal you for himself. It looks like I have to let him know what the fuck is up.”

“What does that even mean-.”

His hand circled your neck again. Pushing you back against the door, Yahya’s mouth clashed with yours hungrily. There was no sense in fighting it. Your body had been yearning for his attention all night. You felt him bend forward into the kiss, his hands reaching to hoist you up. Thick thighs locked around his waist as he ground against you. The back of your head fell against the door whimpering as Yahya’s lips trailed from your neck to the top of your breast. His tongue made contact with your skin, teeth nipping at the exposed flesh.

He groaned against your soft skin, “You wear this sexy little dress for me? Or your boyfriend?”

“Fuck you, Yah’,” you moaned.

“Oh, I plan to, baby.”

Yahya continued to lick and suck at the tops of your breast as his free hand snaked underneath the hem of your dress. A guttural groan vibrated against the bathroom walls as he felt your bare, wet, silky flesh.

“You’ve been hanging around with that dumbass with no fucking panties on,” he growled.

“Yes, but I didn’t do this for him. At the last minute, I made up my mind that I wanted to leave with you. I did this for you, baby.”

“That’s what the fuck I thought.”

The most erotic moan fell from your lips as two fingers dove into your slick heat. You started to ride his fingers, crying out, “Yes! Baby.” 

Yahya sucked, nibbled, and groaned against your throat. “That’s it, mama. Let them hear you. I know you can be louder than that.” 

His fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of your dripping folds. The feeling became too much as your core started to tighten. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his digits. 

“That’s it, love. Let go. Come all over Daddy’s fingers.” He pushed deep enough, tapping your spot.

 “Oh, f-fuck. Yahya!”

Still pumping his long digits slowly, he watched you ride out your high. He whispered sweet praise into your ear, “That’s a good girl. You did good, baby.”

Slowly sliding his fingers from inside you, he licked his fingers clean. You watched in awe as your tongue slid across your bottom lip. He smirked, knowing your freaky ass wanted a taste. Cupping your chin, Yahya pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your tongues wrestled for control as your hands undid his belt. Yahya pulled back, smiling, “Here?”

“I can’t wait until we get home. I want you now.”

He watched you unbutton and unzip his jeans, using both hands to push his pants and underwear down. Yahya scrunched your dress around your waist as he lined up with your entrance. He slid the tip in, pausing afterward. Your eyes narrowed, “stop fucking teasing me.”

“I’ll give you this dick now, but you better not hold back. Your better scream my fucking name like you do when we’re alone. Let that little bitch out there know who owns this pussy.”

You gave him a frantic nod thrusting your hips, trying to slide lower onto his throbbing member. A whine echoed as he slapped your thigh, “I’m running this shit, brat.” Your mouth opened to respond sarcastically, but Yahya slammed inside you, leaving you breathless.

“Thought that would shut your ass up,” he growled.

Yahya thrust deeper and deeper, causing your eyes to roll back. He angled you to where his pulsing rod tapped against that special little sponge. Your heels dug against him, and your nails scratched at his back. You skyrocketed toward a release, crying out his name repetitively.

“Yahya, yes! Yahya, please! Daddy,” you screamed, shaking violently.

He slowed his strokes long enough to bring you back down again. Pushing at his shoulder, you signaled that you wanted down. Yahya assumed you couldn’t take anymore and placed you on your feet. He held onto your waist to help you regain composure. Once you were stable, he reached for his zipper, but you stopped him.

“Wait, baby.”

Yahya looked puzzled. That was until your hands pressed into his chest, shoving him against the door. Dropping to your knees, he started to understand what you meant. Your glossy lips brushed against the tip of his thick member. His breath hitched as you licked around it. Your hands rested on his thighs as you took every inch down your throat.

Yahya’s groan reverberated throughout the room, “Got damn. Fuck, just like that, mama.” You hummed around his dick, forcing another growl from him. No longer able to control himself, Yahya gave in to his animalistic needs. His hands dug into your hair as Yahya pistoned against the back of your throat. The more you gagged around him, the closer he came to a release. One hand trailed from his thigh down to cup his balls. Massaging them, Yahya fucked your throat faster.

“Fuck, mama. I’m about to bust.”

Knowing how to send him over the edge, you hummed around his length. His hips stuttered a few times as he called out your name, sending his release down your throat. He plucked you from the floor, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

“Get dressed. I’m taking your fine ass home,” he demanded, smacking your behind.

Thankful for your richly melanated skin, you could hide a blush as the two of you rejoined the group. It was evident that everyone had heard the two of you. Your friends looked at you with knowing looks. Even Jerrika was smirking at the pair of you. The only person who seemed to be bothered was, of course, Michael. Not knowing what to say, Yahya stepped in, announcing your goodbyes. He dragged you toward a smiling Jerrika.

“I’m good, Yahya. I can catch a ride with someone or Uber. You wore that poor woman out in a packed party. Take your lady home.”

“Wait, you know about us,” you questioned his date.

“Sorry boo, I was in on this whole, make her jealous scheme,” she giggled.

“I should be mad at you two, but it did give me the push I needed. I guess he’s my man now, or whatever.”

“Took your ass long enough.”

“Not too much on me. I got trust issues. You know that.”

Yahya pulled you into his side as you made your exit. Unable to help himself, he made a stop on the way out.

“Alright now, be easy, bro. Don’t worry about driving her home tonight. Daddy got her,” he smiled cockily at the pissed look on Michael’s face.

“Don’t be upset, bro. I told you, baby girl had a man.”

“That’s cool. I’m not really into hoes anyway.”

The room went eerily silent. You tugged at Yahya’s hand, begging him to ignore him.

“He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Yah’. Just come with me, please. He’s not worth it.”

You had almost convinced him to turn the other cheek, but Michael added fuel to the fire.

“That’s right. Listen to your loose ass bitch.”

Acting quickly, you stepped between the two men.

“I got this, Yahya.”

He was aware that you were a little spitfire. Curiosity got the best of him, so he obliged, stepping back to let you handle your shit like a grown-ass woman. Spinning on your heels, you tilted your head back to look Michael in the eyes.

“You thought you ate with that, huh?”

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. Proud of calling a woman out her name not once but twice. Stepping closer, your voice filled with venom.

“Stop pretending in front of all these folks, Mike. I was never giving a weak-ass man such as yourself a chance. I don’t know why your pride is so hurt. I’ve told you several times that this wasn’t going beyond friendship. What? You send me dick pics, and you think I’m trying to take that shit for a ride? What good is all that penis if you don’t know how to work it? That’s right, boo. The ladies have been talking. The word around town is your stroke game’s weak as fuck. I wouldn’t even let you get a lick, let alone fuck you.”

He sat there embarrassed and stunned by what you revealed to the room. Trying to save face, he made one last attempt to bring you down.

“Nobody checking for that fat ass bitch anyway.”

His hand slipped from your grasp before you could stop him. Yahya stomped over to Michael, sending one hard blow to his face. With just one punch, he knocked him out cold. Making his way back to you, Yahya grabbed your hand, kissing it.

“It had to happen, mama. My mouth will make it up to you when we get home," he pecked your lips, tugging you out the door, to his vehicle.

Yahya leaned in, breath fanning against your neck. His hand reached across your lap, clasping you into the seatbelt. Yahya playfully bit your jaw, grazing your breast as he pulled away. As he started to close your door, he rasped, "You might want to take a nap on the way home. I'm about to have you wrapped around me all night. In more ways than one."

I honestly don't know where all this came from. My imagination just ran with it and made a movie😂. Hopefully, you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it💕. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. Enjoy the rest of your day, lovelies!

Gif Credit: @abdulmateens, thanks again for allowing me to use it for my mood board💗.

Divider Credit: @firefly-graphics.

Tagging a few lovelies:

@sheabuttahwrites , @moebuttta , @darqchilddaydreamz

@alertyoulikeitsamber , @astoldbychae , @miyuhpapayuh

@sunshine-flower , @nightlywords7 , @4everbrookemarie

@delta7of96 , @novaniskye , @1andonlytashae

@shaolyninferno , @mcdesij , @willadean

@partygetsmewetter-x , @blackerthings , @peachbuttetfly

@theraieinfluence , @honestpreference , @queeniekiy

@tashawar , @skyesthebomb , @captainwithoutmakingitlove

[aliveandfullofjoy]

I’m anxious about the election and our crumbling democracy et cetera et cetera so I’m gonna distract myself by making some Oscar predictions, lol.

I don’t think I’ve officially made any yet, but with the nominations a good five months away, might as well start making some guesses!

All predictions in alphabetical order, not likelihood of happening.

BEST PICTURE

The Father 

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom

Mank

Minari

News of the World

Nomadland

One Night in Miami

Soul

The Trial of the Chicago 7

Keeping an eye on: Da 5 Bloods; Judas and the Black Messiah; The Midnight Sky; The United States vs. Billie Holiday

Weird year! 

It’s easy to imagine that the top four will shake out to be Mank (which will lead the nomination count, is a likely Director winner, and could easily take the whole thing), Nomadland, News of the World, and The Father. Beyond that, I have no idea! 

Miami and Ma Rainey feel fairly safe. 

I’m trying to manifest a Room-esque haul for Minari. 

I don’t see Trial having the passion to carry it all the way to March as a top contender, but it’s basic enough to make it into Best Picture with support from actors and writers. 

It’ll be neat to see if Soul can be the first animated nominee here since Toy Story 3. 

BEST DIRECTOR

Lee Isaac Chung (Minari)

David Fincher (Mank)

Paul Greengrass (News of the World)

Florian Zeller (The Father)

Chloé Zhao (Nomadland)

Keeping an eye on: Aaron Sorkin (The Trial of the Chicago 7); Regina King (One Night in Miami); George C. Wolfe (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom); Lee Daniels (The United States vs. Billie Holiday); Spike Lee (Da 5 Bloods)

Predicting winners this far out is a fool’s errand, but this will likely be an easy win for Fincher. 

Again, I’m holding out hope for Chung and Minari, and it’s worth noting that the directors branch tends to appreciate movies anchored around a child performance -- Room and Beasts of the Southern Wild both surprised here, so it’s not totally unrealistic. 

Unless something really wild happens, Zhao looks primed to become the sixth woman nominated for Best Director, and the first woman of color. 

Regina King stands a chance at joining her, which would be really, really cool. 

George C. Wolfe might get squeezed in if both Chadwick Boseman and Viola Davis end up as frontrunners for their respective awards.

BEST ACTOR

Chadwick Boseman (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom)

Tom Hanks (News of the World)

Anthony Hopkins (The Father)

Gary Oldman (Mank)

Steven Yeun (Minari)

Keeping an eye on: Delroy Lindo (Da 5 Bloods); Kingsley Ben-Adir (One Night in Miami); Lakeith Stanfield (Judas and the Black Messiah)

The late, great Boseman will officially be going lead for Ma Rainey, which makes things interesting. He would have been a slam-dunk winner in Supporting Actor, but in leading, he is now competing with Hopkins, whose reviews are out-of-this-world. It’s going to be awfully tight, and honestly, I don’t know who I’d predict to win right now. Either way, it’s all-but-guaranteed that Boseman will join the likes of Jeanne Eagels, James Dean, Spencer Tracy, Ralph Richardson, and Massimo Troisi as a posthumous acting nominee. If he wins, he’ll be the third, after Peter Finch and Heath Ledger.

Depending on how well Netflix handles all of their contenders, I’m worried for Yeun and Lindo here. I’d love for both to get in, but I just can’t see Hanks or Oldman missing out, especially if both of their films end up being major Best Picture contenders. Since I’m predicting Minari to do better than Bloods across the board, I’ll predict Yeun to make history as the first East Asian Best Actor nominee over Lindo. 

Judas and the Black Messiah is basically the biggest question mark in the race right now. Its release and eligibility is up in the air and as are its category placement for its two leads (Daniel Kaluuya and Lakeith Stanfield). If the film comes out and delivers, I could see it sliding into Best Picture as well as nabbing a nomination for one or both of them. Actor is tighter than Supporting, though, so it might make sense for the studio to push previous nominee Kaluuya (who has the flashier role) into supporting. 

BEST ACTRESS

Viola Davis (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom)

Andra Day (The United States vs. Billie Holiday)

Frances McDormand (Nomadland)

Carey Mulligan (Promising Young Woman)

Kate Winslet (Ammonite)

Keeping an eye on: Amy Adams (Hillbilly Elegy); Jennifer Hudson (Respect); Vanessa Kirby (Pieces of a Woman); Sophia Loren (The Life Ahead); Meryl Streep (The Prom)

Honestly, this category is deep this year. So much so that the five I left off (Adams, Hudson, Kirby, Loren, Streep) could make sense as a lineup in any other year, and I expect most of them will pop up at the different precursors (Streep won’t come near the Oscar -- probably -- but she is guaranteed a spot at the Golden Globes). 

I can easily see a world in which Davis is the one to beat: her role is juicy as hell and a Best Actress Oscar feels inevitable for her. However, if Boseman ends up winning Best Actor -- which is very possible! -- the situation becomes a bit tougher. It’s really hard for movies to win both Actor and Actress unless they’re, like, top five Best Picture material, and I don’t know if Ma Rainey will end up that high. 

Keeping a sharp eye on Andra Day! Early buzz is great, it’s a juicy role that’s already been nominated for Best Actress (Diana Ross in 1972), and this could end up being a real star-is-born type moment. She’s the only other person who makes sense to me as a possible winner. 

Mulligan is my wildcard prediction, lol. She’ll probably miss out to someone like Adams (unless Hillbilly gets completely destroyed) or maybe even Loren (whose narrative writes itself). 

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Sacha Baron Cohen (The Trial of the Chicago 7)

Charles Dance (Mank)

Daniel Kaluuya (Judas and the Black Messiah)

Leslie Odom, Jr. (One Night in Miami)

Eddie Redmayne (The Trial of the Chicago 7)

Keeping an eye on: Yahya Abdul-Matteen II (The Trial of the Chicago 7); Chadwick Boseman (Da 5 Bloods); Trevante Rhodes (The United States vs. Billie Holiday) Mark Rylance (The Trial of the Chicago 7); Jeremy Strong (The Trial of the Chicago 7); Glynn Turman (Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom)

It’s funny, for a little bit, it looked like some of the possible Best Actor contenders would be pushed supporting (Boseman and Yeun, specifically). Now... well, it’s looking weird.

Trial, which might not even end up a top 5 Best Picture contender, could easily snag two, maybe three, nominations in this category since Netflix announced they’re pushing every actor in supporting. Baron Cohen feels like the surest thing of that cast -- he has one of the flashiest roles and Borat 2 is only helping him stay in the conversation -- and I wouldn’t be surprised if Redmayne happened. He’s basically the lead of the movie. I’m curious if Abdul-Matteen or Rylance or Strong will be able to get in over them. The rest of the cast is (I think) DOA. 

If I had to pick a winner today, I’d probably say Sacha Baron Cohen or Leslie Odom, Jr., whose performance as Sam Cooke seems to be getting a lot of attention (along with Kingsley Ben-Adir’s Malcolm X, who might be getting a leading push). That both have other huge projects this year that won’t get them Oscar nominations (Borat 2 and Disney+’s release of Hamilton respectively) only helps their narrative. 

I have no idea about Charles Dance, lol. I’m only really picking him because he’s an old veteran character actor (which this category thrives on) and he likely has a major antagonistic role in the Best Picture frontrunner playing a real person (check, check, check!). 

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Glenn Close (Hillbilly Elegy)

Olivia Colman (The Father)

Amanda Seyfriend (Mank)

Youn Yuh-Jung (Minari)

Helena Zengel (News of the World)

Keeping an eye on: Saoirse Ronan (Ammonite); Olivia Williams (The Father)

Can Close finally win an Oscar? Or will Colman snatch it from her yet again!? Will Seyfried get swept up in a Best Picture sweep?! Or will Zengel be the one place the Academy can reward News of the World in an above-the-line category?! So much excitement. 

Predicting Youn over Ronan mostly in my expectation that Minari will be a bigger deal with the Academy than Ammonite, but conventional (racist) Oscar wisdom tells us that a four-time nominee like Ronan is more likely than a Korean older woman who is mostly unknown American audiences. We’ll have to see!

[nicolebehariewce]

KELLEE TERRELL: What about being in the Black Mirror universe appealed to you?

NICOLE BEHARIE: First, I just really like genre and sci-fi and imagining the world, the future. That, and Black Mirror is one of my favorite television shows and one of the only ones I look forward to. It's also nice to see people of color on-screen and [Charlie Brooker, the show's creator] has done a good job of creating a diverse world in their universe.

Also, a year ago, they wanted me for a part for a different episode, and I wasn't available. So this time around when they called, without even reading the script, I was like, "I am not going to miss the opportunity. I'm in!"

KT: I read that "Striking Vipers" was shot in Brazil. If that's true, Nicole that's like a free vacation and a paycheck.

NB: Listen. When I first read the script, I felt like the story and my character were pretty domestic, so I was sure we were going to shoot in Atlanta or Los Angeles. Then they told me we would be shooting in Brazil and I was like, "What! Come again?" And with all the different architecture and the beautiful, lush outdoors and how that world was constructed, it was so beautiful. Plus, it was like a free vacation, and it was amazing. 

KT: This episode is such an intense exploration of sexuality, marriage, and technology. What did you take away from it?

NB: The themes were spot-on and on time, especially for Pride Month. As a culture, we are currently going through a period that is more approving [of the LGBTQ community], and more of us realize there are a lot of different ways of loving, living and choosing your life.

As a woman who grew up in the South and was raised in West Indian culture, there are things that "were not allowed." Luckily, throughout my career, I have been able to explore some of that, just like in the film Shame with sex addiction and now [with "Striking Vipers"]. And as an actress, I am always interested in how women exist in these different spaces and how they confront and deal with the expectations placed on them.

KT: Theo is juggling a lot. Being a good wife, a good mother, and wanting to get pregnant again, but still wanting to be sexy, seen and content.

NB: Exactly. I feel like in the very beginning of the episode, Theo had ownership of her body and her sexuality then fast forward to her speech where they are sitting at the table at the restaurant, and she says that other shit [that is opposite of how she used to be]. Now she is raising a family and, in her mind, things are different. Her body is different. And this is real. Often women are living that life and also trying to be fulfilled and wanting to be able to be honest in their walk. 

KT: Let's also talk about the intersections between black masculinity, male friendship, and sexual desire. Because let me tell you, when Karl told Danny he'd virtually slept with a polar bear and it wasn't as good as it was with him, Black Twitter was shook.

NB: Yes! I love how this explores black male masculinity and all of that unsaid things that people whisper about and don't say out loud because they are afraid. And I don't even think Charlie Brooker and the other folks behind it were even aware of that particular conversation when casting us.And when I look back at the scene with [Anthony and Yahya] kissing and that was all about these two brothas' trying to figure it out — and figure it out together. In the end, that's what everyone is trying to do — black, white, trans, whatever — somehow figure out how we fit into this world being ourselves.

KT: Let's also talk about that ending! While Danny is getting his yearly dalliance on with Karl, Theo is also getting hers at the bar. I thought it was empowering and even feminist that she isn't just sitting at home letting him have all the fun.

NB: Honestly, I have mixed feelings about it.

KT: Really? Do tell.

NB: I mean, I think it's cool that there is some type of balance, but it's also kind of sad. I don't know. Why can't Danny play online with Theo instead? But as an actress, there are times when we play parts we don't necessarily agree with, but that's the beauty of this work.

KT: Throughout your career, you have been in so many things, but genre looks really good on you, especially with Sleepy Hollow and now Black Mirror. Why is it so important for more black women to be portrayed in sci-fi and horror?

NB: Whether it's Black Panther or Get Out, I think it important to expand what the world looks like and for us to have the power of letting our minds fly in these different universes. It's also important for actors to have these breaths of experiences in their craft. Super early on in my career, I had a conversation with someone about my skill level, and they were telling me what I needed to work on in order to be in these types of projects. And my response was that it's not that I don't have the ability to do this, I just don't have the same opportunities to do it. But things are changing, slowly, and it's an exciting thing to see.

But even in genre, black women can get stuck cast as the strong and long-suffering archetype. I would love to see the neurotic, quirky black woman because to me, genre is about trying new things, not staying in the box and I hope we can keep building that out, because I'm here for it.

KT: Your fans really missed you and Sleepy Hollow's Abbie Mills, so when the trailer for Black Mirror first came out, people were beyond excited to see you back on television.

NB: Wait, really? Is that true? I took a social media fast from January to March, so I'm so out of the loop.

KT: I swear. I wouldn't play with your emotions like that. [Laughs] Every three months, folks on Twitter want to know where you've been and when you're coming back.

NB: Wow. That's so awesome to hear. I mean, I knew I have fans and that I was missed, I guess I just didn't know it was to this extent. Maybe I'm just too reclusive and shy. It's funny. There was this Iconoclasts interview between Dr. Maya Angelou and Dave Chappelle where he asked her about how she handles criticism and admiration, and she said something to effect of, "I don't pick it up and I don't lay it down." I try to do the same, because I still have work to do and I don't want that to change. I don't want me to change, you know? But I am so grateful to be seen and just know that I see y'all who have been there with me and with Abbie. I appreciate you and feel this love. So while I might not be on Twitter all the time, I am reaching out and connecting with you all through the work. We got some metaphysical shit happening between us. 

KT: Finally, what's next for you?

NB: I don't think I can talk about it yet, but I have some really cool things cooking that I am excited about. Some of it will be familiar, and then there will be things that some people are going to be like, "OMG, Nicole is really going in!" So you will just have to stay tuned. [x]

[ororowrites]

By the Open Fire- (just a peek)

I’m slowly getting back into the writing thing. I haven’t written a thing in about a year. This fic is outside of my regular BP fics but features another beautiful brown babe. Here’s a tiny little taste of a Christmas treat I pray to have done before Christmas ends. As always let me know if you want to be tagged in the finished product. 

“Ain’t nobody getting knocked up until she has a ring on her finger. Yes, we’re getting a cabin and just chillin’ out. Yahya has been working and needs a break. I’ve been....lonely.” Candace paced her kitchen, trying to think of an excuse to end this call before her twin irritated her soul.

“Ya’ll haven’t seen each other in months, he’s going to tear--”

“Trin!” One major difference between the two of them was the lack of filter on Trinity’s part. The woman would say anything in front of anyone. “Look, I need to go straighten up before Yah gets here. I’ll talk to you later?”

Trinity sighed loudly on the other end because she knew her sister was rushing her off the call. Not liking people in her relationship business bugged Trinity because she was the nosey twin that wanted to know everything, much like their mother. “Well at least you won’t be needing to replace the batteries in that vibrator any time soon since the real Dr. Manhattan is back in the picture.” Before Candace could reply to the vulgar comment, Trinity squeezed out a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up.

“Nasty ass,” Candace rolled her eyes and placed the phone back in the pocket of her jeans.

The next two days were the same song. Candace’s brain did not want to focus on writing, so she eventually gave up and settled on online shopping to ease her frustration. The night her beautiful man was supposed to return, the actress fell asleep on the couch. His flight had been delayed by a couple of hours and he didn’t make it home until 3AM.

He quietly entered the apartment, knowing Candace could never stay awake past twelve. The 6′3 actor, tip toed across the floor doing his best ballerina impression. Light snores could be heard over the infomercial playing on the television. She looked peaceful, almost child-like curled up on the sofa under her favorite coral throw. Yahya slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Candace’s pouted lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling under her breath and fell back into a slumber.

“Baby,” he sung into her ear, placing another kiss on her cheek.

“Hmm.” Candace finally opened her eyes to see her Christmas gift standing right in front of her.

[thefilmsimps]

Candyman (2021) (dir. Nia DaCosta)

-Jere Pilapil-

Normally, I’m relieved that a movie in 2021 is under two hours. This goes double for much-hyped, rebootquels that seem determined to launch a new series. Careful what you say five times in a mirror, I guess.

The 2021 Candyman is a sequel to the 1992 Candyman (ignoring two reviled sequels in between, though I guess Candyman: Day of the Dead takes place in 2020, which I kinda gotta see for myself for lulz), and it’s one of those new-fangled The Force Awakens-type ones that serves as an introduction to the series in a very “this this is happening again to a younger set of characters” way. So that 90-minute runtime is packing in a lot, and that’s before you factor in its critique of art and its gatekeepers, critics, etc. But, it ends in an open-ended way that makes it easy to imagine a sequel, which I guess is the whole point of these things regardless of what happens between studio logos and the title popping up at the end.

If the original was about a privileged white woman invading a black space to be a voyeur and having her life completely demolished in exchange, this one is about the ghosts of the past rising up to haunt the present. The former Cabrini-Green projects are no more, paved over and turned into luxury housing, All the chic decor in the world cannot hide the ugly, racially motivated crimes of the past, which bubble up increasingly as our protagonist investigates the stories of Helen Lyle and Candyman from the 1992 movie. It’s an apt metaphor here, but without the accusatory subtext of the original, I’d have to think the Venn diagram of people who would see this movie and people who watched the news at all from the Obama administration to now would just be one big circle of people saying “No shit”.

Our protagonist is Anthony McCoy, played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II, doing what I assume is his best to convey “slowly losing my shit”. He’s an artist, living off his girlfriend, an art gallery director. With artists in movies, I can never tell how good the art is supposed to be. I can’t quite tell how much others are blowing smoke up his ass, since his breakthrough painting series, black people with nooses, is an almost hilariously boring idea of art-as-commentary. His new work gets dismissed by critics and friends for his new piece about the legend of the Candyman until people start dying because the piece gets people to summon Candyman. The art world is populated by snobs and creeps that seem to just exist so that we (the audience) can feel good about Candyman murdering people, but the scenes look goofy (with well-executed special-effects), and the brutality would feel better earned if I could imagine someone thinking Anthony is a good artist.

The most interesting idea this movie posits is that Candyman is not just one man, but one in a succession of racially motivated murders. It’s the idea that keeps coming back and taking revenge on the present. It just takes nearly the entire runtime of the movie to do anything with the implications of that. He spends the runtime of the movie wandering and researching while eerie stuff happens around him and a bee sting becomes infected and spreads up his arm. And then some shit happens in the third act that literally had me bury my head in my hands for how jarring, stupid and out of nowhere it was. It feels like the filmmakers had the idea for the ending and retroactively worked to get characters A and B into positions X and Y (like the Loki series, the finale is good, but tethering it to preexisting works complicates the road there in exhausting ways).

The 2021 Candyman is mostly saved by just being a great looking movie. While it feels like it’s pounding you over the head with mirrors and mirror imagery, some of it is nifty, at least, and the cinematography is foreboding and dark. I wish this movie had a little more focus (may of its links to the original movie are unnecessary, the characterization of the critics and art industry people are as subtle as the gif results for “jerk off motion”), and maybe a little more bravery. The movie itself seems afraid to be truly scary, instead shaking its head and saying “what a pity…”. Even if it had come out as planned in 2020, it would have been as interesting as an artist drawing a black man with a noose and calling it “commentary”.

4.5/10

[eerythingisshaka]

Quit Playin

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Smut that makes you go huh?

This is my submission to @sonofnjobu WIP Fic Fest.  It’s been sitting in my drafts for a little over a minute and I just hope it comes across as entertaining for you!  Its setup is Yahya having the game from his Black Mirror episode and the things that occur because of it.

"It's not like that, i swear!"  Yahya exclaims with a laugh he tries but cannot mask..

"Then what is it like!”  You screech at him, wiping your face of the stray tear you hate.  You aren’t gonna cry about this shit, you swear.  But stress makes you teary regardless.  “Cuz it seems like you don’t wanna be bothered with a damn thing about me!”

Yahya stares at you for a beat, leaning against the countertop in his relaxed olive green collared shirt tucked into his dark khaki slacks.  With his little TWA, he looks like a vintage ad for Fridgaire appliances, square in the middle of a Sears Roebuck catalogue.

“I don’t NOT want you…”  He says slowly with too much emphasis on the ‘not’.  This revs you up more.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?  You out here doing shoots and shit all day everyday, no you’re back it’s like you on a whole other planet!  Is it Nicole Beharie?  Cuz I don’t blame you, I would even go after that but fucking tell me!”

Yahya purses his lips together, silently cupping his hands in front of them.  He stands up straight and meanders over to you, kissing the top of your forehead.

Your palms smack his biceps, pushing him back off of you.  “You not about to distract me, I’m serious!”

Yahya scoffs, rubbing his tender arms.  “I see, ok!  What else are you planning on doing to me to get my attention?”

You let out an exasperated yell.  “Oh, nigga if you only knew what the fuck was going on in my head, you wouldn’t be tempting me.”

Yayha claps his hands twice, firmly planting his feet where he stands and bends over so his torso is almost parallel to the ground, facing you with his arms behind his back.  

“Go ahead.”

You put your hands on your hips, pacing the floor.  “Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“You have my full and undivided attention.  And a face free for you to smack, and you talking yourself down?  That’s disappointing, I gotta say.”

“But to what extent do I gotta go to get you here?  How long have I asked you for this time?  And now I’m angry, so this time is fucking worthless to me. I wanna chill with you, see shit, do new shit, not sit and the house and argue over you and your video games!  Fucking hate whoever let you take that from the set.”

Yahya straightens up again, giving his lower back a little rub.  “You wanna play me?”

You turn on him quicker than a blink.  “You know I don’t give a damn about video games!  If I wanted to play a game, I’d say ‘Yah, lemme play real quick.  They got 2 player?’  But I haven’t!  You know why?  Cuz they dumb, repetitive and too complicated for me to find time learning worth it!”

Yayha walks down to the living room, like you haven’t said anything, toward the TV cabinet.  “Oh, I see the problem.”

Walking over to the plush sectional, you plop down feeling imminent defeat.  “You’re not listening to me at all, I can’t understand you.”

Yahya pulls out a small box, closing the cabinet and turning on the TV.  “You just have to see me play, one time.”

He sits next to you, pulling out two clear dots from their container.  “Here.”  

He holds one in each of his hands out in front of him, eyes wide in expectation of you.  If he was wearing black glasses and a trench coat, you’d think he was practicing for a Matrix reboot.  You stare from his long hands to him, and back again, feeling yourself begin to soften.  Maybe you could try bonding his way, just this one time.

You snatch one out his hands.  “Gimme this shit.  You stick em on your forehead or what?”

Yahya chuckles as you gets his pair out and puts them on.  “You know I don’t have a damn dot on my forehead when I do this.  Put it on the side of your face, in line with your eye kind of.”

Once you have the dot placed he takes his controller and pushes a few buttons to navigate to the Start screen.

“Now when I hit Start, we bout to be in the game for real.”  Yahya looks over at you all wide eyed like he’s teaching a toddler how to hold their breath underwater.

“...nigga just push the damn button.  I don’t get why you makin such a hu-”

You don’t get to finish you sentence before your mind begins to be sucked into a vortex that leaves you catatonic, body falling limply backward against the couch alongside of Yahya’s.

Before you know it, your eyes become accustomed to your surroundings.  Looking around, you see many trees, vibrantly green and full of cherry blossoms blowing in the wind.  The nearby waterfall fills your ears as your mind races to make sense of things.

“What th-”

“Hey!  Whatchu think?!”  A voice behind you yells.  Your head whips around to see a woman in a blonde wig and an outfit that looked cute but avant garde enough to make you question your safety regarding their mental state.  

You swallow hard.  “I-I don’t know, I’m just tryna find my man.”

She huffs, working her hands in a circle creating a ball of energy before squatting in a fighting stance.  “You’re the only man I see around here.”

You scoff.  “I am NOT a man, girl, get your eyes corrected.”  You go to do a hair flip for emphasis and find none on your shoulder.  You feel the top of your head, expecting to find your wig gone, but you feel neither cap nor curl, only some bone straight short cut you have never had.  When your hand shoots to your mouth in shock, the color makes you snatch it back again as it was not your shade of skin.  Your hand looked meaty and was wrapped in tape.  Your eyes travel to look down at your biceps, hulking and veiny.  Strips of cloth hang of your broad shoulders and where titties once were, are now ample pectorals.

“Wh-what the fuck??  Who am I??”

The woman in front of you laughs.  “You should see what you look like right now.  Scared of your own body...when you should be scared of me.”

Without warning, she sails her energy orb at you, making you put your hands up without thinking.  The force of her blow pushes you back making your feet slide against the rocky walkway you stand on.  Your eyes slowly open as your heart pounds from the excitement.

The woman laughs, placing her hand on her hip in casual amazement.  “Huh!  I thought you didn’t pay attention when I played this game.”

You furrow your brow in confusion.  “Wait…”

She nods, holding her arms out in a flourish.  “Isn’t this cool!?  We in the game baby!  You see why I can’t stay out of it?”  

She smiles widely, running towards you, quicker than humanly possible and takes your hand.  “We can walk around and everything.  Check this water out.  It’s wet AND cold.”  She dips down to wave her fingers in the nearby resevoir.

You still standby in amazement, slowly becoming accustomed to the situation.  “Yahya?”

She looks back at you giving a nod that despite the racial and gendered differences, really reminded you of him.  “It’s me baby. Come feel this water, ain’t it nice?”

You put your hands up.  “No way.  This is some Harry Potter/Neo bullshit that my Christian ass ain’t here for.  Put me back in real life right now!”

Yahya’s character stands up, wiping their hands off on their costume before popping their knuckles.  “What if this was my plan all along?  Get you in here, and just...stay?  Forever?”

You tighten your jaw, balling up your fists.  “No way in hell would you do that.”

Yahya looks at you stone faced and still.  “Well…”

“YAHYA!”  You shout at him, losing every ounce of patience.

Finally they laugh, holding their stomach for emphasis.  Another Yahya-ism.  “I’m playing babe, you cute when you mad but it’s ridiculous as a dude.  We not stuck here forever, I promise.  You just gotta say the magic words and we out.  Simple.”

You nod fiercely.  “Ok, and?  What are they?”

Biting their lip, Yahya says, “I’ll tell you...but you gotta fight me for it.”

“Pssh, boy come on and quit playing I’m ready to be done and here you go.  I ain’t fighting.”

“You sure?”  They shrug, walking towards you to poke your arm.  “I mean, you could probably beat me easily.  You a big strong dude. I’m the female here, so you got advantage.”

You swipe at them.  “I’m not falling for that.  You know how to play this game, that’s the problem!”

They reach out to ruffle up your hair.  “You beat my ass mashing buttons before, just do that.”

You whip your head back, stepping away with your hands up defensively.  “Aight, I’m sick of you pissing me off lately anyway.  Come on with it, BITCH.”

The venom in your curse makes Yahya character smile as their hands swirl in a creating an energy orb.  You run up on them, sailing through the air with a kick that travels their torso to their face, causing them to stumble.  

You feel pretty good until you hear that damn laugh.  

“Go off, baby!  That was cute!”  Yahya bites their lip,  stomping the ground that loosens a rock in the pavement right under your feet, knocking you off balance.  As you fall through the air, Yahya, sends fists and feet under your back 3, 4, 5, and 6 times until you fall down, clutching your back in pain.  

“Fuck!  What the hell you do all that for?  I knew your bitch ass wouldn’t fight fair.”  You curse as the pain begins to subside.

Yahya walks over shaking their head as the blonde hair falls on their face.  “It doesn’t last, the pain.  I could literally break all your shit, and never have to worry cuz it mends in like three seconds.”  They hold their hand out to you to help you up.  “You oughta feel fine now.  I’ll leave you be if you done though, my bad.”

You sit up and take a deep breath.  Just like he said, you feel brand new before you even exhale.  You look up at them in their outfit: waist snatched, thighs strong and wrapped in elaborate garters, titties sitting high in their corset leather one piece.  

“So now you kicking my ass, and you pick a character finer than me?”

They chuckle, squatting over you.  “No way in hell do any fake shit come close to you baby.  For all it’s worth, I’m glad I got you here to experience this with me.  Complaining be damned.”

Having caught your breath, you feel this pull inside of you that brings your heart to a racing pace.  A tug from within you never felt before but it made you ravenous for mischief.  As you grabbed their hand, you in turn flipped into a somersault carrying them through the air onto the stone path beneath you both.  Yahya gasps, having the wind knocked out of them but you don’t ease up.  Before Yahya could get to standing, you straddle them using your newly acquired man weight to pin them down and send a fury of fists into their face.  You feel like you’re watching a movie instead of experiencing it firsthand, but the comical pace of blows as Yahya’s character head bops back and forth like a speed bag made this whole experience worth it.  That is until a pair of knees hit your back.

As you fly forward, you land face first and before their strong thighs come around your waist and an arm around your neck.

You feel your consciousness beginning to fade.  “Yah….”  

They breathe heavy in your ear.  “Say Uncle.”

You raise your hand off the ground but it feels like a 100 lb weight.  “I can’t-”

“Nah actually, say Daddy.”  Even as a woman, his chuckle rang true, making you livid.  You gather as much strength as you can muster to bring yourself to all fours, in a kind of parasitic piggyback ride.  Their grip tightens as you move, but suddenly a force fills you.  You grip the ground underneath you, clawing your nails into the stone as the energy boils. 

“Come on, say-”  Before Yahya could answer your back arches as a howl comes from deep within and your eyesight turns white.  You hear a wretched thud behind you and use it to follow your prey.  Yahya’s character sits limply against a boulder as you bound toward them lifting their head to make room for your hand against their throat.   They feel weightless in your hand as you raise them up higher and higher as their feet hovers above the ground.  Yahya’s character opens their eyes and you step closer to them, nose to nose as you grip their neck.

“How’s that feel now, Daddy?”  You say, hearing yourself with a manly tone of voice sent shivers down your spine as you held control.  Your muscles flex under your authoritative hold, arousing your interest at its highest point since you got in the game

Yahya’s hands grip your bicep as they wrap their legs around your waist tightly.  “It feels...alright,”  he chokes out with a small grin.

You snort as you study the face of his character: cheekbones riper than autumn apples, flush from the fight.  They keep licking their lips and stroking your bicep before you notice the slow grind against your pelvis.

Yahya continues.  “You wanna beat me up some more?”  

Your grip weakens when a new sensation crops up between you two.  It’s not like anything you’ve known before.  Your mind kept getting distracted from the task at hand.

“Is the fight...over?  Did you hit pause or- something?”  You stutter as your hips move before your can think about it, making a gasp slip from your mouth.  The soft warmth that rubbed against your groin was so tempting.

Your hand comes off their neck and rests against the rock you had Yahya’s character pinned against.

“It ain’t over until we say it is.”  The character’s voice is raspier, breathy.  You run your nose and lips across their clavicle.  Their hand reaches for the sash keeping your pants up.  

You wince as the fabric feels tighter in front.  “I don’t feel so good.  It’s like I’m cramping up or something.”

Yahya’s character bites their lip, shaking their head.  “You ok, that’s just how it is for guys.  Getting hard is fucking torture til you find something to do with it.”

As their hand reaches for it, you feel a sharp shock to your nerve endings, making you seize up and grip their thighs hard.

“Ohhh shit, why’d you do that?”  You wail.

Their grip tightens as their hand runs the length of your shaft.  “It’s ok, I swear it’s gonna feel nice.”

“It’s not that, I just...I don’t wanna wait no more.”  You growl primitively as you find the garments between their legs and rip it apart, exposing herself to you.

“Fuck, babe, slow down!”  Yahya’s character exclaims, grabbing onto your shoulder in surprise.  

The whole lead up is a blur.  You couldn’t think about what you were doing as a guy figure about to manhandle a woman who also happens to be your boyfriend because nothing would satisfy you more than diving into that pussy at that moment.  You pull you character’s dick out with ease, lining up your head to their opening.  

“Shit, Yahya.  You better breathe bitch.”  You scoff holding onto your member to ready yourself.  Yahya’s characters breathing and moans in anticipation stoked your fire, making you way less patient for foreplay.  Soon as you felt wetness, X marked the spot.  

When you began to enter them, you swore your mind just went to another dimension besides the one you currently were in.  You felt like you just flew into the center of a hot honey butter roll on Thanksgiving night while sopping up the leftover gravy.  The warmth around you followed by the heartbeat of the pussy around your dick sent your knees to buckle.

“Fuuuck.”  Yahya’s character exclaims as you push into them every inch you can must before hitting a barrier, making Yahya’s character tense up.

“It’s ok, go ahead.”  He reassures you, kissing your neck and jaw while rubbing your back.  

You needed no other encouragement as you pulled your hips back and began to swim.  The sounds of you churning them out became your applause, goading you.

“You feel...like a fucking payday...a day early…”  You gasp as your senses reach their peak.  It felt so good, but you still didn’t feel peace.  If anything, the more you stroked, the more erratic you became.  You searched the rock for a grippable surface and when none was found you turned to their character instead.  You wrapped your arms around their back, putting them into a bear hug as you bounced them off your thighs, gaining deeper access.  

Yahya’s character is a blubbering mess, beggin you to go harder, deeper, faster, and that was a challenge you refused to back away from.  You wanted them to feel you entirely, smacking their ass when they got too quiet, pulling their hair when they seemed too tired, picking up the pace when they were becoming too dominant.  Nothing was going to keep you from waxing the whole level with their ass.

As any superhero, you began to grow weary.  The ferocity that consumed you began to falter as a wave of pressure built in you, making you nervous.

“Yah, I’m feeling something different.”  You moan as your stomach tightens up, feeling a throbbing pressure.

Character hair in disarray, Yahya pushes it back, speaking between gasps.  “You about to cum, babe?”

You shake your head.  “I don’t know, I don’t usually feel like this when I do.”

“It’s different as a guy....don’t fight it.  That will hurt, promise you.”

You nod as you close your eyes, feeling them tighten around you even more.

“You feel so good in me baby, let me have all of you.   I want it all baby, fill my pussy up baby.”  Yahya kept giving you erotic Hallmark message to let you know just how they needed it.  The pressure became overwhelming and like a lightning striking a tree, the roll of thunder barreling from your balls up your shaft and out left you stiff as a board.  Your toes curled as you felt yourself being pumped dry as Yahya’s character squealed in satisfaction, hugging you tightly.  You felt yourself move, but no more than a snail’s pace, out of fear you may fall over from weakness.  Your sensitivity heightened you didn’t dare try to continue, opting to pull out once you felt yourself finish, putting Yahya’s character down before falling to your knees.  Yahya’s character laid out right next to you, smiling joyfully.

“And THAT’s why I can’t get enough of this game.  You experience shit you can’t in the real world.  I never thought I’d get you to do that.”

You huff looking over at them.  “That was so damn different...YOu never let me lead like that before...And you were so….vocal.”

They shrug.  “I can’t help it when I’m like this.  Female orgasms are damn drugs.  My whole body lights up, and I don’t feel like vampire just took my soul after.  Without a doubt good shit.”

You put your stuff back in your pants in awe of what just happened.  “And I never knew I could take over you like that.  Like...I was you just now.  And you were me.”

Yahya smirks.  “Exit game,” disappearing.

You look around in a panic.  “Uh, EXIT GAME!”

Your body lurches forward as you catch your breath, feeling Yahya rubbing you back.

“You alright?  It’s over I promise.”  He says with concern.  “I didn’t mean to shake you up like that.”

You feel relief hearing his real voice turning to give him a big hug, almost knocking him backwards.

Yahya’s laughs muffle into your shoulder.  “Damn baby.  Some of the game ain’t left you.”

You lean back and peer into his face.  “I don’t want that part to leave me just yet.”

Yahya blinks in amazement as he grips your waist.  “That didn’t turn you off from me?  With the characters and me being a girl in there and-”

You shake your head.  “It just showed me how much I can do to you and how good you can make me feel in a way I could’ve never asked you to show me.”

He licks his lips nodding slowly.  “No limits to that.”

You smile, fitting yourself over his lap.  “So we can fall off a mountain while I fuck falling to the ground?  Or fuck you thru a glass window and roll you over in the shards and-”

Yahya quirks an eyebrow up.  “I’m returning that thing tomorrow!”