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writerbee-ffs · 4 years

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He was Erik...

So I came across MBJ’s interview onset gifs and the video (again) a couple of weeks! I also remember him interviewing w/ Oprah saying the role had began to make him depressed because he had to really dig deep to find the hurt Erik felt sooo I wrote the little one shot as MBJ’s significant other going through the lows of the role. Hope it’s good and someone likes it 🥴😅

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“Me and Ryan … we’ve worked together a few times.” He stammered on his words. “And this is a project that we -you know- spoke about and once he heard about it” He rubbed his nose more signaling his irritation from all the questions. “Wanted me to do something different and play a villain” The sinister gleam had become evident in his now midnight black orbs. “my initial thoughts was like cool … when do we start?” He shrugged towards the interviewer.

Glancing at Michael one last time on your laptop screen, you’d realized the water on the brim of your eyes threatening to fall. While everyone loved the thought of an all black major cast and celebrated Michael for his role as one of Marvel’s greatest antagonists, you hated the role deep down in your core. You would never tell a soul that especially your friends and family but you saw what Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens did to your once happy, loving, and caring boyfriend.

The role had Michael eating different and even spending more and more of his time away from the house avoiding you like the plague. When he did decide to make an appearance at home, Michael isolated himself from you by taking up residency in a completely different room on the other side of your shared home. He shut you out of his life and one night ended up telling you how much he hated you and how much he wanted you to pack up and leave. Oddly enough you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to leave him alone to go through this role. After awhile you two rarely spoke. He’d been quiet these days simply writing in his one of his many journals he always used to prepare for any role he had. His appearance was even different from the Michael you knew and so was the way he smelled. He was no longer the love of your life. This was a stranger...

The stream of tears fell down your cheek as you sat in there against the bed frame. Watching his Black Panther interviews had became a dirty habit of yours. You were desperate to figure out what happened to Michael. Searching for any clues in the context. Anyone on the outside would see Mike’s interviews and swoon over his appearance as Killmonger but you knew the truth. You knew how the role was eating him from the inside out but he wouldn’t dare admit. You knew how irritate and angry he was becoming when it came to interviews or being social. You knew and the only thing that you could do was cry.

“Michael?” You hummed hearing footsteps coming from the hallway of your shared home breaking you from your thoughts. He’d been ignoring you since his dive into that character. “Bakari…” You whispered before planting your feet on the plush carpet making your way towards ‘his room’. “Mic-“

“Would you stop calling my damn name!” He growled at you through clenched teeth. His dark eyes looked through you as if you were nothing to him. “I heard you the first fucking time!” His chest moved up and down rapidly. “What do you want, (Y/N)?”

Standing there feeling small under his harden glaze, you chewed on your bottom lip nervously attempting to muster up the courage to speak to him. “I-I” You hummed out playing with the hem of his once favorite t-shirt you wore. “I miss you.” Your breath hitched as he made way towards you looking at you intensely. This was the first time Michael had been this close to you .

The devilish grin spread across his face, “Nah.” He chuckled slightly. “I don’t believe that.” His head swayed back and forth before going back to his suitcase to ignore you again.

The hot tears flowed from your face once agin like a facet turned on high, while you stood there feeling completely shut out. “Where is Michael?’ You hummed looking at this angry stranger. “I fucking hate what this character did to you!” You snapped throwing one of the African souvenirs you’d bought when you went to set with him for a couple of weeks.

“You hate it?” Mike chuckled stopping mid fold. “You didn’t hate the shit when you were trying to fuck Killmonger.” He laughed deeply making his way towards you. “Or what about all the shit you bought with my money … off this role that you hate so much?” The only sound in the room was Michael’s panting breath against your left temple.

You wanted to deny what he said but you simply couldn’t. “You know what?” You peeped out lowly tired of the constant cries, the lonely dark nights and mourning mornings. “I can’t do this, Michael.” Your eyes averted to the left to look into those unknown eyes. “This role has done something to you You’re always hostile, sad, angry… ju- just not yourself.” The tears were flowing slowly onto your already stained cheeks. “Always looking as if you want to kill everything or everyone in sight.. including me.” You mumbled the last part. “I understand you have to do what needs to be done for this role but you need help.”

His eyes rolled at the thought of help. What help did he need? Michael knew once he was done with this role he could put Erik “Killmonger” Stevens to rest with all his other roles. (Y/N) was just being a spoiled brat because he was always away for the movie. He wasn’t angry nor hostile. He wasn’t sad or depressed. He didn’t have built up rage. That was all Erik and Erik wasn’t real. He had to make Erik come to life so he had to do what he needed to. He was angry. He was depressed. He was filled with rage. He was Erik and Erik was him. He was losing everything and everyone he loved. He needed help.

(Y/N) couldn’t look at Michael anymore. He wasn’t himself and although she loved him, she couldn’t continue to be his punching bag. She couldn’t continue to hold hate for the breakthrough role Michael so desperately was excited about. She loved him too much but you loved yourself even more. “I’ll always be here for you but I can’t stay here with you.” You mumbled into Michael’s chest. “Enough is enough.” You stood on your tiptoes as you placed a light kiss on his cheek, feeling him flench at the action.

As much as you didn’t want to leave you had to ....

#writerbee #mbj ff #michael b jordan ff #michael b jordan x reader #erik kilmonger #black panther fandom #black panther fic #erik stevens #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger imagine #michael b jordan imagine #black panther fanfiction

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whokilledmeff · 6 years

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000

Trigger warning:

This chapter contains abuse and rape.

•

February 2016

The city that never sleeps, felt sleep for once. The normal hustle and bustle was on vacation it seemed. Even at 1 am, the train would have a little action. Sage glanced over to the left of her and saw a Hispanic boy with raggaeton blasting from his headphones, a group of guys and girls talking loudly, an older black lady falling asleep and to the far right of her it was a man wearing all black. Sage quickly darted her eyes back to her phone. She didn’t want to make eye contact at all. He could be a killer or something, she thought. No telling who you'll get on a train in New York City.

She was tired, and she was completely drained. Working at a hospital was consuming her life and to be totally honest, Sage didn't like it. She chose to do nursing as a safe space. She couldn't disappoint her family. She had to be somebody and if that meant leaving the hospital in ”wee hours” of the morning, then she had to do it. She couldn't let her family down, no matter how much she hated her work life.

Moments later the doors opened and Sage proceeded to leave off of the train, with the Hispanic boy following behind her. Making her way down E 98th, the snow began to fall at a rapid pace. Sage knew she had to get home, but with the cold air brushing against her face it felt impossible. The wind felt like she was hit with mountains of snow, but the blow to the back of her head felt even worse.

Sage’s limped body fell to the ground as blood made a pathway on the snow. Her scrubs had become stained from the blood that slowly dripped down from her head. She was unconscious, but suddenly her body was being dragged. Dragged to an unknown place and with her being temporarily knocked out, dragging her was an easy task.

22 hours later

Her eyes opened up slowly. She didn't realize how long she was knocked out for. She was drugged repeatedly to keep unconscious and now it was wearing off. Her heart began to beat at a rapid pace, but she couldn’t talk. Her mouth was taped, her hands were tied up and so were her ankles. She was completely naked and her body was sore. She noticed blood stains between her thighs and she began to think the worst. Tears gushed from eyes and she knew her life was possibly coming to a close. How could she escape? Sage realized the room she was stuck in was a basement. It was damp, cold and smelled like urine. There were even red light bulbs in each socket, giving off a spooky setting.

Her eyes darted across the room and she spotted a small window and a chair. Was there hope, though? She was still naked and tied up. She knew she would never make it out of there, especially not in a timely matter. Her eyes finally made contact with a rusted pole that was on the side of her. Taking five minutes to scoot herself over to it, Sage tried to straighten her weakened body and she tried her best to rub the string around her wrist against the pole.

Watching the clock against the wall, this was taking longer than expected. Sage rubbed and rubbed until she felt the string break. Her wrists were tender to the touch and she quickly untied her ankles proceeding to remove the duct tape from her mouth. She struggled to get up and limped her way over to the window and chair Her body continued to fail her, but she wasn't about to give up. She would try any and everything to get out of this hell hole she was stuck in, even if it meant almost losing her life.

”Shit” She failed again, but she didn't stop there.

Sage finally got herself to stand up on the chair. Now opening the window was a challenge, but she had faith and didn't give up.

”Come on...come one......God, please........oh my....thank you God.” her heart fluttered as the small window opened. Her small, petite frame could get through the window, but she was struggling again. This time it was to lift herself up.

”Please, just let me get through this window. Pleaseeeeee.” Using all of her strength, Sage felt her body being lifted. No one helped her, but whatever it was she was sliding her way through the window and she hoped she would make it to safety.

Kissing the ground and forgetting she was naked, Sage stood up and limped through the snow. Her surroundings were familiar, but no one was in sight. She glanced around and began to scream for help, but it was clear no one heard her. She screamed and screamed until her body fell onto the ground.

”Help me! Help me! Somebody!” her body was being dragged again by the same individual. ”Please! Help!” The rough hands that had a hold on her, wrapped around her throat. Her breathing became nonexistent and the mysterious man’s body hovered over her.

Sage began to cry. One hand around her throat, the other unbuckling his belt and pulling his hard erection out of his pants. He forced himself inside of her, penetrating her vagina. Sage couldn't cry loudly if she wanted to, but the tears running down her face said it all. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. The more he penetrated, the longer it seemed. In reality, it was only a minute, but to Sage, it felt like an eternity.

He finally stopped and he grinned at her. The devilish grin scared sage even more and grabbed her body and turned her around with so much force. He began to sodomize her, Sage couldn't even cry anymore. She didn't have it left in her. When he was finished she tried her best to slither away, but he grabbed her legs and dragged her to a nearby alley.

”Ple-please.....just let me go.” He snickered and flipped her over.

”You know, I should have kidnapped a white bitch. This would've made the news by now. Nobody even cared to look for you. My face all over the place for kidnapping a white woman. I live for shit like that. Just for that, I'm getting rid of you.” His deep raspy voice put more fear into her. He was so calm and Sage realized he was really crazy.

Her body was cold. Her lips were turning blue. Sage looked drained, almost dead in the face. Her deep caramel complexion turned pale from the weather and her whole body felt like it was frozen. Sage pleaded, but the man did not care. He pulled his penis back out and began to masturbate over her body. He did it until he felt it was time to release himself , and that what he did. He released himself next to her face and watched her cry in agony. He put his penis back into his pants and grabbed a knife from his back pocket and smiled.

”No.....please!” Ignoring her, he stabbed Sage in her chest.

Blood spilled out of her mouth as she bled out and tried to crawl away. She didn’t get far, and he grabbed her legs again, flipping her over. He stabbed her again several times, watching her take her last breath. He then grabbed her, dragging towards an alley, throwing her body in a dumpster. He had his shovel nearby and put snow over her body, closing the dumpster. He walked away as if nothing happened, as if an innocent woman didn't die. He didn't care, and he was off to kill the next woman he came across. Would this be another case unsolved? Will loved ones find out who killed Sage Jones?

#Michael B Jordan fanfic #Michael B Jordan ff #Vashtie Kola ff #mbj #michael b jordan

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thiddlestoffiction · 4 years

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Michael B. Jordan Masterlist

The fics are ordered from most recent (top) to least recent (bottom).

Fics marked with * link back to the the main blog since they were first posted there.

[ S - Smut | A - Angst | F - Fluff ]

(Last Updated: March 31, 2018)

[ Masterlist ]

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

[ S | Real Life AU ]

Everybody wins when Reader dreams of Michael B. Jordan.

#michael b jordan fanfiction #michael b jordan fanfiction masterlist #michael b jordan #fanfiction masterlist #fanfiction #my ff

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radicalposture · 5 years

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fantastic four: third time lucky

#chris evans and michael b jordan both play johnny storm and the remaining ff members are played by uhhhhhh.#ive run out of jokes but #marvel

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seenoevil-ff · 6 years

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7 ✝ A Funeral

“It is * * * Death alone that can suddenly make man to know himself.” –Sir Walter Raleigh, The History of the World (1614).

Nunc lento sonitu dicunt, morieris

Now this bell tolling softly for another,

says to me, Thou must die. – John Donne, Meditation 17 (1624)

XAVIER

The stifled sobs of my mother rang in my head repeatedly.

She screamed and pounded her balled fists against my brother’s chest, outraged. Her arms flailing, the stench of blood permeating the air. While I was just unable to move from my position, I stared blankly at the lifeless body of the man I knew to be my father.

That he was dead. Carver Brown was deceased.

I wasn't all sure what I had just done but apparently it was enough for my mother to be as broken as she was. My eyes watered, I could feel my heart rate quickening again but this time I was in a state of panic. There were sirens surrounding us when my mother finally wandered over to my father’s body. Cheeks stained from her tears, she palmed his face as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her body shaking while attempting to form a coherent sentence.

I did this.

I clenched my jaw tightly as tears fell down my cheeks, my brother silently crying out. My hands trembled uncontrollably as I stood to my feet to walk to the front doors of the headquarters. Even though it was understood that jail was never an option again, I was prepared to surrender. The past two days have been turbulent – while I had a lot to be thankful for with the birth of my son there was so much to follow afterwards. A big event followed by a series of crippling and impactful events.

“Yo..Xae what you doing man?” Maddox questioned, lifting his head. His eyes widened when he noticed exactly what I was planning to do.

“I’ve fucked up.” I mumbled while staring at the numerous police cars parking in front of the building.

“Don’t say that shit bro, you snapped…you fucking snapped.”

As hard as he tried, there was no excusing my actions. He knew it. Murder was the most serious of the crimes I’ve committed, never getting caught there was a rush but the victim was my own blood. I didn’t feel he would be served any justice unless some kind of punishment was delivered to me. I had barely any fight in me to go against the system built to kill men like me.My mother was so broken by her grief and guilt, she didn’t even realize the reality of the situation. Her husband was dead, her only child was going to be imprisoned.

“You really are unrecognizable with this weak shit at the moment.” I heard Zane comment.

“You did this….” I whispered back to him.

“It was rightfully so, you heard with your own ears yet you want to be blind to the truth. Go ahead and kneel.” His words echoed until I could no longer hear him.

The police burst through the doors with guns drawn. “NYPD! On the ground now!”

The SWAT officers stormed in to restrain me as one pinned me against the wall, giving the others a chance to handcuff me. Detectives that I recognized and knew on first name basis walked right past me to my father’s body. When Maddox protested he was threatened with jail time and a murder accomplice charge, there were no questions asked because they couldn’t wait to book me for the crime. They had a win. When we arrived at the 19th precinct, I was processed and held after my rights were read. I chose not to speak so for all they knew I was mute. Even when the detectives threw out photos of Carver’s carcass I was still unbothered or appearing that way. The entire time I was held in that small cell there was only time to think about what was said. My thoughts also drifted to Rakim along with his purpose for initiating this. There were ample of ways to kill my father but he chose this route.

Revenge was now my goal.

For now I simply utilized some of the solitude to grieve my father that had raised me. Over the years, Carver was a difficult man to live with sometimes but he did have his moments as a loving parent. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to reminisce, back to when I was only four years old.

“So you really are just going to give up like this? What the fuck did we talk about yesterday?” I heard Belial speak.

My eyebrows furrowed as I opened my eyes, “How did you get in here?” That was all I could ask, keeping as calm or normal as possible. She stood with her body leaning against the wall, arms folded with her lips pouted. A chuckle left her lips as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So your father is dead and you decided to take the wrap for it, never thought you would kneel for Rakim…” Belial decided to sit on a bench, crossing her legs.

“I killed him…” I mumbled. “I killed him because something in me had to do it, he told me something… and I just lost it.”

“Damn right you did. I don’t fucking like the guy that much but why take liberty to stab him anyhow? He was shot, you could have done nothing. Remember you have son, nobody will be able to bail you out of bullshit constantly.”

“I really don’t need you preaching right now, Reina.” I added heavy emphasis on her former name, the name that had long since been shed from her. A scoff then a cackle left her lips, her movements became paces. When her heels stopped clicking in the small space, her head turned in my direction.

“Far from a preacher, but wasn’t it you promising or wanting to not make the same mistakes that you supposedly left in the past?” she inquired.

“I did.” I remarked.

“Then stop fucking up.” With those words she turned on her heels and was gone again, disappearing to whatever circle of Hell she had come back from.

Much time had already passed since my imprisonment. Apparently it had gone so quickly that I found myself meeting the morning sunrise. The holding area had become busy and noisy so sleep was no longer achievable. I chose to sit in my cell to await my time while thinking of my last move. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Rakim would feel the vengeance for my father. If he didn’t know death or destruction before, he would know it now. I guess one thing his mother didn’t fucking teach him was manners—better still she hadn’t taught him the consequences of not respecting your elders. He will know my name and my wrath in every degree. That was my promise.

When the cell doors opened with a loud clank, the deputy called out my name. “Brown! You’re free to go. Someone loves you enough to pay that big ass bill on your head.”

Someone loves me enough is right.

MADDOX

In just twenty four hours, my entire family begun to fall to pieces.

Shiloh nearly lost her life giving birth to my nephew, my brother goes missing only to appear again at a meeting, our father is murdered, and now my mother is completely inconsolable. This was an eventful couple of days and now I sit outside of the precinct awaiting my brother to exit the front doors. My eyes darted on occasion while I closely observe my surroundings—at this point we had to remain alert. Rakim had gotten the upper hand just like he wanted. Lucifer’s death would weaken us or just maiming him would. Never would I have thought my own brother would finish the act but there was way more to this story.

All we needed was answers.

The first words I could hear from Xavier was him cursing out the officers as he exited.That brother of mine, my blood, you couldn’t help but love him. There was a slight tension between us because of what occurred, he felt he needed to isolate instead of closely analyzing the situation without ripping himself to pieces.

I watched him and the continuous bickering until I stepped up closer to the front entryway to grab the back of his shirt. With a gentle tugging, I pull him to my side in a headlock.

“If you didn’t already pay attention, the entire precinct and task force have a hard on for you. Quit while you’re ahead.”

“Everybody hates Xavier, everybody…the list is growing bro. I breathe and it’s an issue.” He chose to find humor in the situation but I knew him very well.

I closely studied his demeanor.

He was more quiet than normal so the remaining question was what exactly was happening inside of his head. I didn’t know what to say or do because I was grieving myself. But I didn’t blame him for what happened, because our father had already been badly wounded… there was no way of knowing if he’d make it if the stabbing didn’t occur. Always have I been the one to comfort and protect my brother — in this situation I didn’t know how.

Once we pulled up to our mother’s home, he hasn’t budged from the passenger side door. Recognizing his stubborn nature, I chuckled then stepped out to leave him to his devices. He’d eventually enter the house on his own. Scarlett immediately met me at the door with her eyes bloodshot red.

Her voice was solemn as she called for Xavier and for a brief moment I saw that connection. Mother and son were in an emotional war. She loved him, he loved her and hated himself, apart of her was uncertainty as to who he was.

“Mama... you both need to talk. You both need this...” I urged.

“Yeah… you’re absolutely right.” Her voice cracked as more tears threatened to fall.

She was indeed trying her best not to cry again. Scarlett gathered her strength and began walking toward the car. Xavier opened the passenger door to immediately pull her into an embrace, causing her to sob once more. After a brief moment the pair walked back toward the house. It was time to prepare to bury our father. It was indeed a funeral of the century..

AMANI

I had definitely lost track of whether it was day or night.

The cold beads of sweat that had formed on my forehead caused me to shake slightly. Lately I had been having a lot of those, nightmares, I couldn’t exactly remember or understand what they were about but it was something about today. Today was the day I felt my life was going to change drastically. I breathed in the smell of marijuana smoke, huffing as I curled my naked body under the covers. I was waiting to hear a voice, to hear some familiarity. If it had been Rakim — I would have rather played dead.

“You do know… your bourgeois ass can’t sit in the bed all day.” A voice I recognized stated.

I turned my head while clutching the sheet close to my body to cover my breasts and the rest of my frame.

“Who said I would sleep all day? Maybe I want to be fucking left alone?” I shot back. It was the attitude of “I’m supposed to keep watch over you.. take that up with my brother.”

It was Terrell.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. A soft smirk appeared on my face as he began to swallow hard, it was always fun to watch these niggas sweat over a woman like me. I dropped the sheet and began to run my fingers through my messy tresses.

As a captive and Rakim’s alleged guest, I may as well put on a little show. I strutted toward the bathroom with my hips swaying ever so seductively.

“So you’re going to watch me get dressed as well?” I purred.

His expression was priceless and a bit of a turn on as I twirled in the mirror. My fingers brushed against my puffy folds, sliding them against my clit.

“Uh... nah.. Ima let you handle your shit. I’ll be outside the door, we can’t be late.” Terrell’s face turned beet red as he rushed out of the room, leaving me to wash myself in peace.

My daily routine was that I would awake to someone watching me as though I were a child. So why not have a little fun in the process and taunt my “babysitters”? Rakim has his work cut out for him if he thinks I’m not going to defy him. He isn’t my father nor my man but that sense of having control apparently strokes his ego, my defiance excites him for some reason. I can only imagine that’s why he keeps me alive..

A black some what form fitting Vera Wang dress, a large black hat to sport with matching heels seemed approapriate enough for church. It had been years since I can recall setting foot in one but the process of a funeral I knew all too well. When I exited the bedroom, I saw all of the men gathered in the hallway. They were definitely good looking, fine as wine despite the attitudes they carried. Rakim flashed a bright grin, revealing his pearly whites as he wrapped his arm around my waist firmly.

“As my date, I have a proposition for you...”

“And that is?” I replied.

“To look just as beautiful as you are... you’re going to make someone a very happy man.”

The statement somewhat confused me, my brow lifted and my face twisted. There had to be a reason for this feeling I was having. We arrived at the church to see an entire line of cars. The turn out for a man named Carver Brown was indeed grand. When we stepped out of the car, it was Rakim who coached us to remain incognito. I refused to put on shades because these people didn’t even know me or anything about me. Once my eyes fell upon whom I believed was Carver’s wife, I lowered my head to walk toward the church, her cries growing louder.

The closer I stepped to the church, that feeling began growing and the visions that clouded my head wreaked havoc within me. There was a little boy, with bright eyes, a smirk, a man draped in black with skin as pale as the moon...terrifying eyes. There was this laughter and an infant that I didn’t recognized. I had ran face first into someone which caused me to stumble.

“Oh... I’m so sorry!” I spoke.

When I looked up into those eyes..I felt weak.

“I...I...uhm... excuse me.” I mumbled.

“You good.” He replied.

When the doors of the church were opened to those who remained after the family. I no longer wanted to sit with Rakim. I was much too curious. The pastor began the ceremony, the choir singing their hymns but I noticed that the man I bumped into began to fidget and shake. The outbursts of cries from his family and some close friends caused me to feel something that I was truly unable to feel since my mother had died. The shredding sadness, that same pain resurfaced—I felt grief for people I didn’t even know.

When it was time for eulogies, everyone was broken down and the funeral soon came to a benediction. It was time for them to bury... as everyone stood and it was time for the pallbearers to lift the casket, there was gunfire. I ducked and covered myself as everyone in the pews behind me scrambled. The moment my body hit the floor, my eyes made contact with an infant, with those eyes... the same eyes as the man I had bumped into prior before entering the church.

Before I could even move, I felt someone sheild me from the barrage of bullets that came flying toward me.

ZANE

Back to reality.

I didn’t even know this girl....but I wanted her. I dove head first into the gunfire just to save her which was something I never truly cared to do. I roughly shoved her into the pews with the other bystanders to fire back at Rakim and his goons. Maddox was hot on my trail as others followed my lead, little did he realized he had entered the church out manned and over powered. The disrespecting of Carver’s homegoing indeed sparked an outrage. It was my family that was in danger, my family being disrespected.

There was no other choice but to fight back.

“Yo pull back man!” Rakim barked as they began to take cover and run from the church. No one was leaving until I put a bullet in them. The last bullet to discharge had pierced whom I assumed to believe was Rakim’s shoulder.

“Ah!” The smell of his poisonous blood filled the air, I definitely got him but there was no way this bullet would kill him.

Until next time...

I finally turned to face the beautiful woman I saw behind me, but she was already gone. My eyebrows furrowed as I finally ran from the church to see if she would be spotted in the streets.

Nothing.

“Fuck....” I mumbled. Something in me said I would see her again but I was still curious...

“Who was she?” Xavier and I finally spoke aloud in complete sync.

#chris brown #chris brown fanfic #chris brown fanfiction #ASAP Rocky #high end #heartbreak on a full moon #yaris sanchez #yaris sanchez ff #asap rocky ff #asap mob #Cassie Ventura #michael b jordan #team breezy #august alsina #trey songz

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chaneajoyyy · 2 years

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BLACK WRITERS WHO WRITE FOR BLACK CELEBS/MEN (PART 2)

@judymfmoody

MICHAEL B. JORDAN

- @plussizeappreciationfics

- @wakandanblogger

- @sheabuttahwrites

- @mermaidchansons

- @savagesugaqueenxx-writes

- @mauvecherie-writes

- @writerbee-ffs

- @tgigoldie

- @erikismybitch

- @lady-love-and-glitter-roses

- @bakarilennox

- @ororowrites

- @ghostfacekill-monger

- @lionheartsthings

@hearteyes-for-killmonger

- @wickedgamesfanfic

- @aspacefork

- @unabashedlyawhore

- @stripper-patrick

- @calif0rnia-lovers

- @brownsugarcoffy

- @michaelbwriting

- @kumkaniudaku

- @rxxicole

YAHYA ABDUL-MATEEN II

- @kumkaniudaku

- @deliciousstreetkidcroissant

- @theghettomisfit

- @l-auteuse

- @write-fromthe-start

- @plussizeappreciationfics

- @nayaxwrites

- @kittehkwrites / @kittehkwrites-backup

- @lemmewritesomeish

- @twistedcharismaaa

- @ghostfacekill-monger

- @tgigoldie

- @melaninfalconbucky

- @eerythingisshaka

- @ororowrites

- @essaysbyciara

- @emjayewrites

- @sheabuttahwrites

- @blackburnbook

- @miyuhpapayuh

- @cecereads209

- @cocobwrites

- @theficplug

- @royallyprincesslilly

#the plug #librarian at your service #let’s chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #black writers who write for black celebs/men #black writers #fanfiction

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lamujerarana · 7 years

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PRIDE MONTH CHALLENGE → Day Four: Favorite Bi/Pan Male Character

↳ Johnny Storm / The Human Torch

I just feel empty. Like I was a nobody. You, Reed and Ben had full lives before we formed the Fantastic Four. I was barely out of high school. Sometimes I feel that without my powers, I'd be nothing. Without the F.F., what is Johnny Storm? I don't know, and I wish I did.

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mdccanon · 3 years

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Thoughts on Superfamily (Marvel)?

Magnificent. Comprehensive.

I love good old-fashioned "Steve and Tony work on their team dynamic until the accidentally start dating" stories.

I love "Tony originally adopted Peter" stories.

I love "Steve slowly realizes EXACTLY what JARVIS is" stories. Love the bots and AIs, love Vision.

I love "Steve is a nervous wreck in the presence of Pepper Potts" stories.

But I'm a sick bitch, so I love all the hurt and all the comfort.

I love reconciliation stories for every movie, and I waited with bated breath after Winter Soldier for Civil War because Tony didn't know, Tony didn't know who killed his parents. I love "The Winter Soldier pretends to be Bucky Barnes" stories. I want Bucky, Tony, Natasha, and Bruce to all look back on all the lives they've ruined and decide to make their lives worth something more. I love Steve and Sam being there for them. Sam is the most amazing therapist, the ultimate Helpful Guy.

My headcanon has been that Johnny and Susan are Steve clones since Chris Evans was cast as both, so I like Superfamily stories where Peter has Complicated Feelings about Johnny.

But I don't mind throwing Michael B. Jordan into that and having Johnny be Killmonger's clone because the wrong person found out Erik is Wakandan royalty and Peter having Complicated Feelings about Johnny from that. XD

Now that Zemo has been elevated to amazingness, I kinda want his storyline merged with Victor von Doom's....

So, at this point in the Superfamily legacy, I would pay money for a fanfiction where Zemo discovers two Steve Roger clones living in a Truman Show fake community inside of a NASA research center in Long Island, use them to restart his tirade on "50 Reasons the US Military should Eat a Dick". Insert NASA accident that makes FF+1. Sam's got the shield and he's not afraid to use it. Bucky is watching it all on the TV in Louisiana, holding Morgan, confused as always. Add Steve, Tony, and Pepper trying desperately to get custody of Johnny, who is still atleast 17, but Zemo wants to take his two favorite propaganda pieces with him to reconquer Sokovia with his newfound electrical powers. Toss in Zemo meeting Wanda "I'm the Scarlet Witch Now" Maximoff who informs Zemo that magic is in fact real. You know what would make sure that no one ever fucked with Sokovia again? Magic. Throw in Billy, Tommy and Vision. Tony is grappling with instantly becoming a grandfather to two ten-year-olds when his first daughter is only 5. Steve and Susan connect instantly and Steve's very annoyed that his poor, sweet, 21-year-old ingenue daughter is so enamored with some NASA scientist 10 years her senior that she can't start a sentence without "Reed always says--". Thank GOD Steve never talks that way. Bucky always said he did, but he doesn't see how. Pepper is trying to explain to Wakanda that if they declare war on Sokovia, as private US citizens, the Avengers cannot choose a side. And Peter is still trying very hard to suppress is Complicated Feelings about Johnny, a boy he has to fight on missions as the Human Torch, who he hung out with in Brooklyn before the scandal broke that he's Steve's clone, who he really would rather prefer to see as his brother like Morgan is his sister, but he isn't, and that's bad, that's very bad.

Every ten chapters would have Pepper, Tony, and Steve meeting Buck and Sam in Louisiana, to review what new hot garbage is happening and their NEW new plans to deal with it, over a large platter of jambalaya. Bucky always provides the chocolate cake.

#mcu superfamily #stony #stucky #pepperony #irondad #captain dad #superhusbands #superfamily #fic request

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