#wakandaspride

[kxtiik]

I'm alive!!! The damn virus didn't kill me. Did knock me out of commission for a week though. But I'm back! I've got stuff ready to work on for the following people:

@whothehellispatroclus , @the-fearless-devil , @spawnreigns , @wakandaspride @yondu-poppins @kingxfmischief @typicalclint & @starlord-of-terra

Bare with me, guys, and I'll get stuff out ASAP

[thegreatmusewars]

@wakandaspride gets a Summoner!Yuna Starter

‘‘I haven’t seen you around here before..are you a traveller?”

[gods-own-xman]

For Us to Know | wakandaspride

X @wakandaspride

All the annoyance and angry that entered with Ororo into T’Challa’s suite became smothered, no longer smoldering when she took in the appearance of the exotic dancers that were busy entertaining her former husband, noting the striking resemblance they bore to an acquaintance familiar to the both of them. Every so often, before and after the annulment, she wondered whom T’Challa would have preferred if they were both available to him. Swallowing hard to herself, she concluded her own answer. 

But her eyes stayed on his, even as his glared down his nose to her. Her lips drew into a tight line, not because she cared about of his commands, but rather to keep her fury at bay. Ororo was tired. She was tired of how little her life seemed to be her own, tired of always having to be on the defense when speaking with her ex-husband, and mostly tired of how little regard she was given. Azari seemed to be held in higher esteem. 

As T’Challa jabbed his finger in her face Ororo’s hands clenched and unclenched with electricity itching to take aim. She turned her head away, adverting her eyes to keep from only growing more upset. The trace of thunder rolled in the far distance. Speaking as if a foul taste lingered in her mouth Ororo replied, “My apologies, King T’Challa.” She paused, ready to turn on her heels. “If you wish I can send your paramours back in on my way out.”