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nikaglazr · 1 month

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The Party - Nika Muhl

Synopsis: Nika and Y/N had been rivals since Freshman season. Nika being the defensive presence of UConn, while Y/N was the same for Virginia Tech. Now, in their junior seasons, both face off in the final four. But the night before the game, the two teams find themselves in the same club.

“You always come to the parties, to pluck the feathers off all the birds.”

PART 1 !!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/nikaglazr/750590525468491776/the-after-party-nika-muhl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The flight to Cleveland was uneventful. Most of the team slept and the ones who didn’t just sat in silence. Not me and Georgia though

“You pumped for this game, eh?” The shorter Australian girl says as she pushes my shoulder lightly.

“Super. Feeling even better now that we’re going up against UConn.” I respond, smirking a bit.

“Speak for yourself, I have to guard Paige! She’s like 6 foot!”

I laugh at the girls comment before checking the time. 5:30 pm. I look back up at the girl before saying,

“We should go out tonight, like you, me, and whatever girls decide to tag along.” I tell her. I shift in my seat to adjust my seatbelt before turning back to her.

She laughs before responding. “That’s actually a great idea. I’m sure Eliza and Gabby would say yes.” She smiles.

I nod at that as we both go back to our previous activities, talking momentarily every now and then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Time Skip: At hotel*

When we get to the hotel, me and Georgia immediately decide to room together. After getting out the elevator, and Georgia struggling to unlock the door, we finally get in our room. I instantly drop my bags on one of the beds, my body going with it.

“Want me to text the gc to see if they want to go?” I ask pulling out my phone.

“Yeah, we should go to that Bird of Paradise place, they have hella cool lights” Georgia voice echos from the bathroom.

I pull up the gc and type out a quick messege.

~~~~~~~~

Hokie Hoochies 🐱🖤

Y/N: Yall wanna hit up birds of paradise at like 9 w me and Geo❓❓

Kit Kat: oohhhh yes 👍👍

Tilda: I got a assignment i cant 😔

Lanna: OUU YUHH 🗣️

Sam Suff: Trust I WILL be there 🙏🙏

Gabber: Yessss I need it

Carys: Can’t im T’s partner on the assignment

Mack: I cant im so so jetlagged

Y/N: Alr alr bet we loadin in this rental coach bought be ready by 8:30

~~~~~~~~

I turn my phone off and yell at Georgia about what the girls said.

~~~~~~~~~~

*Time Skip: 8:00 pm*

Me and Georgia decide to start getting ready since we have to go pick up the car. I decide to put on i black fitting leather long sleeve with dark green cargos, finishing off with black chunky sneakers and light makeup (or wtv you want).

After Georgia finishes getting ready we head out to the rental car in the hotel parking lot. In a few minutes all the other girls arrive and we all pack into the car, Georgia driving.

“I got aux!” Samyha yells, earning laughs from the other girls.

The ride there was hype. We were all getting ourselves ready for tonight. It was probably for the best that Sam got control of the music, she has really good taste. As we pull up we all hop out the car and head to the door.

“Slim thick, caramel skin, 5 5 this bitch a ten!” Alanna sings as we get in.

“Hair done bills paid catch me slidin inna benz!” Samyha finishes as we make our way to the bar.

We all order various drinks before I decide to get a private bench.

We all sit down and talk for a bit as we take in the environment. After a few minutes some of the girls like Gabby and Elizabeth were out on the floor. The remaining five of us were just chilling and laughing until I hear a familiar voice. Nika fucking Muhl.

Suddenly a group girls come around the corner, my head turns to look at them. Identifying them as Paige Bueckers, Aubrey Griffin, Azzi Fudd, Ines Bettencourt, Ice Brady, and Nika Muhl. I sigh heavily before getting Georgia’s attention.

“Geo, guys, look who decided to show up.” I point the group of girls across the rather crowded club.

“You got to be fucking kidding me” Georgia says, her accent standing out over the loud music.

The girls grunt as we decide to let it go, hoping they didn’t wander over here.

Everything was fine until we heard Elizabeth and Gabby call out to us as she was over with the very set of girl we didn’t want to see.

Some of the girls put on believable smiles while I just sit monotone as they close in on the table.

“Look who I found!” Elizabeth says happy, you can tell she’s at least a bit tipsy.

“We decided that we would be nice and they could share the booth with us.” Gabby finishes the slightly intoxicated girls thoughts.

“If that’s okay with you guys, we can totally get one if it’s not.” Paige buts in.

My distaste must have been obvious as my least favorite person to see points it out.

“Well it’s obviously not, Right Y/LN?” She says with a attitude, her Croatian accent showing boldly throughout each word.

She’s already pissing me of but I keep my composure and mask my hatred, “no no, it’s perfectly fine. Go ahead” I say dismissively.

A few of the girls went to hang out on the floor with Eliza and Gabby, leaving only me, Georgia, Nika, Paige, and Samyha at the booth.

Nika has been giving me looks all night and if there wasn’t so many people around than I would confront her about it, but for the time being I just stay silent and look down at my drink.

Georgia clears her throat before speaking.

“So are you two hyped for tomorrow?” She asks, looking between Paige and Nika.

“Definitely, it’ll be fun.” Paige says comfortably as Nika just nods.

“Where are ya’ll staying?” Sam asks, looking at Paige since she is the more responsive out of the two.

“The- uhhh- Ritz Carlton I think? Yeah that one.” The blonde answers.

As my eyes travel up to find Paige, they meet a glaring Nika. I roll my eyes at her before getting up and heading back to the bar. After I get my drink I turn around only to see Nika coming up beside me.

She orders a drink before looking at me.

“I know you don’t want us there.” She says, taking a big drink of her cocktail.

“Is it that obvious princess?” I say with faux shock.

She just gives me the same glare from earlier.

“We’re gonna win you know?” She says bluntly.

That comment makes my blood boil as I meet her eyes.

“Yeah we’ll see. I might get coach to put Georgia on you so I can get Paige, since- you know- you don’t do to much offensively.”

“Whatever. We’ll let all this talk settle after tomorrow.” She says sighing angrily.

“Aw, sorry princess, didn’t know not being a good scorer got to you so much.” I pout teasingly at her.

The Croatian looks mad but she plays it off alright. After a few minutes of silence and drinking, you can tell she’s a bit intoxicated.

I suddenly feel a tug on my hand, I look and it’s Nika leading me out to the middle of the club. I give the girl a confused look but I end up following her anyway.

Once we get far enough she turns around and looks at me, but it’s not an angry look, it’s a lot more welcoming than that.

“We should dance.” She slurred slightly, her Croatian accent hanging off every word.

“I thought you hated me princess?” I ask playfully.

To be honest, Nika was never the ugliest person. Dare I say she was easy on the eyes. The only reason we didn’t get along was because during our freshman year, when we first played each other, she assumed I didn’t know Croatian. Which led to her saying some things she thought I couldn’t understand. Ever since the trash talk had reached an all-time high.

As I snap back to the scene in front of me, I see Nika taking off her coat.

“You’re a lot cuter off the court.” The girl replies simply, grabbing my hands and swaying gently.

Deciding to entertain the girls actions, I slowly sway with her. I decide to keep at least a little distance just to be respectful.

After a moment she steps closer and before I can react she just hugs me, hands going around my waist.

My breath hitches momentarily as the girl continues to sway back and forth to the music. I decide that her behavior will wear off as I slowly sway with her. I’ll take her to the rest of her team later.

After minutes and a few more songs, I decide that it’s time to head back to the booth. My hand goes to her lower back as I lead her through the buzzing crowd.

When we near the table I make eye contact with Paige. She seems to alert the other girls of our upcoming presence as they all look our way.

“I was wondering where you guys were.” Paige chuckles a bit as I help Nika sit down.

“She’s a little drunk so I brought her back.” I respond looking at the brunette beside me.

I look around the room to see a few UConn girls still dancing. They don’t look like their ready to leave, but Nika needs to get home.

“Hey Paige, if you guys wanna stay here I can run Nika to yalls hotel.” I offer, voice straining over the music.

“That would be great, i’ll give you the key. You know where it’s at right?” She asks while trying to pull, what I assume to be the key, out of her pocket.

I just nod before looking towards Georgia.

“I’ll be back with the rental, love ya.” I say quickly before grabbing the key off the table and helping the drunk girl up.

As we get out to the car I start to hear slurred mumbles from behind me. I smile a little, realizing what happened tonight. That was the first non-hostile encounter i’ve ever had with Nika.

When we get to the car I open to door for her and she stumbles into the car silently. I walk around to the drivers side before getting in and starting the car. I turn on my gps to their hotel and start driving.

After a few minutes of driving, Nika starts talking- well more like mumbling to me.

“Thank you baby.” She says looking at me.

I know shes drunk but god is she hot right now. I look over to her quickly before looking back at the road.

“Course.” I respond simply, a light pink hue coating my cheeks.

Unfortunately, she seems to notice as she shamelessly points it out.

“Don’t be nervous baby, it’s just us.” The Croatian slurs, touching my unoccupied arm.

“Nika sto-“ I barely get out.

“We all know you want me. You want my body don’t you?” She teases. “I bet when you heard me cuss you in Croatian that one time you only got mad because you were turned on, right baby?”

At this point my brain is foggy, whether it’s from the alcohol or the girls bold teases. Probably both.

“You’re drunk and delusional.” I respond surely.

Nika giggles quietly before turning back to the window.

“You so were.” She giggles again.

I decide to ignore her as we pull up to her hotel. I get out first, walking to the other side to help her out.

Once we get in the hotel she immediately runs toward the elevator, pushing the up button multiple times.

The ride in the elevator was boring, thank god. As the door opens, Nika leads me straight to her room. I open the door and she goes straight to her bed.

“This is me.” She giggles, kicking her shoes off.

I laugh quietly before walking up to the now laying down Nika.

“Bye pretty girl.” I whisper as I kiss her forehead softly and quickly.

She only hums in response. I make my way over to the door, but not without taking one last glance to the, now, half asleep girl.

After getting back to the club I see all the girls waiting by the other team’s car. When they see me they all seem to run in at once. As everyone I came here with gets in I see Paige walking up to me.

“Thank for taking Nika back. You’re not as bad as you are on the court, y’know.” She says standing outside my car window.

“No problem. And you’re pretty cool too Paige.” I respond before driving off.

After getting to the hotel, we all part into our respected rooms.

Georgia, around as sober as me, helps a few of the girls into their rooms before coming back to ours.

We both make eye contact as we get ready for bed.

“Good game tomorrow Geo.” I say getting settled in.

“Good game Y/NN.” She mumbles back as she gets in her bed.

I think about the events of tonight. I can’t let Nika’s comments distract me tomorrow. Im sure she won’t even remember it by then. After a few minutes of thinking in the dark, I feel sleep overcome my senses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THATS THE END OF PART ONE !!

I yapped a bit but I hope yall like 😝😝

//////////////////////////

#imagines #nika muhl #nika mühl #ncaa wbb #wbb #uconn wbb #im so gay #foryou #nika #tumblr fyp #viralpost #my fic #oneshots

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notmanagingmymischief · 11 months

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𝒩.𝐵. || 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑜.

WOW, USER NOTMANAGINGMYMISCHIEF ACTUALLY STILL POSTS ORIGINAL WRITING??? :000000

shocker, i know

word count: 1,964

warnings: death/dying, mentions of incestual tendencies on Norman’s part, survivor’s guilt, ambiguous ending?

tag list:

@takemercyonme @when-i-miss-you @damagnificentcookie @straight2hades @marvelgeek09 @herashifts @crime-ninja @onebigsimp @emiliaisdead @sapphic-stress @nonbinary-cryptid-baby @merci-bitch @feartheclipse @mxbeezkneez @fxoehy @ahoy-gays @sythaerin @consciouschunkofmoss

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask or comment, or fill in this form! <33

enjoy xx

I had been in love with Norma Bates for as long as I could remember. From the moment I laid eyes on her, probably. It took almost two long years for me to finally confess to her, and three for us to completely and totally settle down with each other. It was on what was supposed to be a calm, easy day—one where neither of us had work to do, and we could just exist with each other—where something finally went wrong.

Well, that isnt entirely true; the past couple of days we’d been having this weird tension between each other. Norma had been busy with the Motel, Norman was being a pain in my ass, and my estranged family had decided to reach out again after years. All of the stress culminated today, though. When we had nothing to distract ourselves with, and somehow it ended up in an argument. One of our worst we’d ever had, in fact. I mentioned something about my parents getting on my ass, which led to the conversation of Norman. This was already a rather sensitive topic for everyone, and I’d been too stressed to filter myself. A stray comment I made had Norma all up in arms, and so here we are; in a screaming match in our shared bedroom.

“You can’t say that! I know you don’t get along, but Norman is my son, whether you like it or not!” Norma exclaims, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. I scoff and cross my arms. “Yeah, thats the problem, Norma. He’s your son.” I give her a Look, “He acts like he’s your boyfriend. Have you seriously never even been slightly freaked out by that?” I make perfectly valid points; Norman has always been weirdly attached to his mother, in a very creepy way. But Norma was unwilling to acknowledge that. We bicker back and forth some more, poisonous words thrown back and forth between us. “At least he didn’t abandon me!”

That. That was the final straw right there. Norma knew exactly how to get to me. I confided with her about my family issues and there she was, using them against me. I reel back with a hiss. “You—what?” I spit, glaring at her. But Norma doesn’t even take it back; I sense we’re both too upset to really consider each other's feelings. I shake my head. “No, thats too much. I can’t—you know that isnt what I did!” Norma mirrors my action, shaking her head and giving me an exhausted look. “Isn’t it?” she asks, and I have to clench my fists to stop from hitting something. We stare each other down for a moment, neither of us willing to speak. And then she does.

“That’s it. I’m done. We, this,” she gestures vaguely between the two of us, “is done.”

It hits me like a bag of bricks. I’m not stupid, or dense. “Are you breaking up with me right now, Norma..?” I ask, tears stinging in my eyes. “I didn’t want to say it but yes, I think that’s what has to happen. I just—I’m done.” I keep staring at her in shock, trembling violently. I can’t speak, can barely even breathe, and Norma wont even look at me. Finally, I choke back a little sob, and with a cracked little voice, I go “Fine. Fine, then. G-Goodbye, Norma Bates,” before turning on my heel and doing my best not to run from our room, from our house, from our life. It doesnt take me more than twenty minutes to grab some essentials, only what I’ll need for a couple days before I can come pick my stuff up, and throw it and myself into my car. Not once does Norma show her face, and I’m almost grateful for it. I only spare one glance up at that old house on the hill before pulling out of the lot and onto the freeway. I don’t know where I’ll go, I don’t know what I’ll do—I just need to get away.

I drive down the highway, vision dangerously blurry from tears, for what could be minutes or hours. I have the radio up as loud as it’ll go, I’m clenching my fists around the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles aching. But nothing matters, because everything just hurts. Everything hurts so much.

It hurts so much that I don’t notice myself shaking so badly my driving has become erratic. It hurts so much that I don’t see myself accidentally veer to the left with a particularly body-wracking sob. But it doesnt hurt enough to stop me from seeing the headlights blinding me. And all I have time to do is let out a choked gasp and shrill shriek before—darkness.

Norma had been a wreck. Since she watched you from what used to be your bedroom’s window, watched you drive away and not look back, since she realized what she had done. She fell onto your—no, her bed—and put her head in her hands. She didnt cry, she couldn’t. But she did just sit there in silence, running through everything that had happened in the past hour in her head. When she did finally get up, her stare vacant and eyes dull, she went about the rest of her day without any of her usual fervor. Dinner with Norman was filled only by him, telling her about whatever taxidermy he’d done that day. And when she went to bed, Norma finally let herself cry. When she went to bed without you, and realized how cold her bed was. When she realized that the sheets hung too loosely over her shoulders because your body wasn't behind her to elevate them with your own. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Norma Bates is roused from her exhausted silence by her phone ringing. Not by her alarm, it was much too early for that. No, this was a call. With a sleepy groan, the blonde turns to grapple for it, answering the thing without reading the caller ID with an unimpressed “What?”

“Is this….Norma Bates?”

Norma didnt recognize the voice on the other end. “Uh…yes, this is she. Why..?” she mumbled, rolling onto her back. “This is Pine Bay Medical Center. We have Y/N L/N here with us…you were her emergency contact.” This immediately snaps Norma’s exhaustion out of her and she sits up in bed quickly. “What? You—what happened? Y/n? Is she alright?” “Ma’am, please breathe. Are you sitting down?” Norma’s breathing is already rapidly increasing, and she nods before realizing they cant see her and quietly choking out a “Ye-Yes, I am.”

“Mrs Bates, I regret to inform you that Miss L/N passed away this morning at…15:23 PM.”

The world goes silent. It falls out from under Norma and leaves her reeling; she nearly drops her phone from her hands as she just…stares. Stares at her wall in silence. The woman on the end of the line must be speaking to her, but all Norma can hear is a persistent buzzing behind the ringing in her ears as those words bounce around her head. After too long, the woman finally croaks out “Can I see her?” The moment she’s given the okay, she hangs up and snaps into action. She throws on the closet dress she can find, and doesnt even bother checking on Norman as she practically throws herself out the door and down the stairs.

Norma makes it to the hospital in record time, thankfully not stumbling across Alex to give her a speeding ticket, and the car is barely in park before she’s out the door and sprinting into the ER. Her voice shakes something fierce as she begs the receptionist to let her see you; as though begging them to bring you back. It takes too long for them to understand her but when they do, they give her a knowing look. “She’s..already at the mortuary, second floor.” Norma doesn’t bother thanking them before she’s gone, up the stairs and frantically searching for the room.

It doesn’t really sink in, she thinks, until she gets through to the workers and is finally led to the wall. When the small door is opened and a metal slab is slowly pulled out. And when she stares down at you. Down at her girl; peaceful but cold to the touch. It doesn't sink in that you’re gone until she rests a trembling hand on your cheek and can’t feel the warmth of your skin, when you don’t automatically lean into her touch. It isn’t until that moment that the world, reality, finally comes crashing back in and down onto her shoulders. The reality where you’re….not here.

Without being able to stop it, a shrill sob falls from Norma’s lips, and just like that she collapses against the wall. The mortuarists don’t intervene—they’ve seen this happen too many times—and let her grieve. They let her sob and plead and press her fingers to every cut and scratch on your pallid complexion, until she’s finally guided slowly and carefully from the room, still crying and repeating your name desperately. She’s sent into an empty room to be by herself, but she can’t even make it to the chair before she’s on her knees on the ground, sobbing all over again. Face in her hands, nearly screaming with the agony filling her entire body and soul. Gone, gone, gone, gone. You’re gone. Nothing Norma can say or do can take back what happened, and now you’re gone.

You’ll never wake her up with breakfast in bed again. You’ll never laugh at her stupid jokes. You’ll never hug her from behind and press your face into her hair as you grumble about the workweek’s stress. She’ll never kiss you again. She’ll never stay awake talking until past midnight about anything and everything again. She’ll never even…see you again.

Norma doesnt know how long she stays like that; eventually someone must have shown up because now she’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair and being asked too many questions, being talked at too much, and everything’s too loud. And Norman is there. He appeared a few hours back, but didn’t dare try to speak to his mother. She was too deep in her grief to even recognize his presence yet, and when she answers questions they’re brief and mumbled. The clearest thing that passes by her hearing is a doctor saying “Your wife was very strong in the OR. She fought hard, and it’s a real shame she didn’t make it.”

Her wife? When had she been put into the role of your wife? It was only once she was given your phone that she realized her contact was titled “wifey <333”, her name only written in the subtext inside the contact info. This brought on a new wave of tears. More unidentified time passes, until Norma is finally left alone with Norman in silence.

“I’m done.”

Norman looks up at his mother with a confused look. “What did you say, mother?” She slowly raises her head from her hands; “‘I’m done.’ That’s the last thing I said to her,” she breathes, eyes glistening with more tears that prepare to join the ones already streaming down her cheeks. “The last thing she thought she knew was that I hated her,” Norma chokes, sobbing again and letting her head fall back into the wall. She doesn’t even register the dull sting, too consumed by guilt and shame and grief.

What flowers will they have at your funeral? Did you ever write a will? Who would they tell? Would she let your family know?

But worst of all—how would she live with herself knowing that this was all her fault?

#my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #norma bates #norma bates x reader #vera farmiga #vera farmiga x reader #vera farmiga fanfiction #lgbtq #gay #angst #tw death #tw inc*st #a home where the heart can never go

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nattinatalia · 2 years

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Jack Harlow x Reader Instagram AU

This is part 2, highly requested. But I honestly don’t know if I wanted for her to end back with Jack, stay with Travis, or have her stay single. So you decided the ending 😉

Liked by ynupdates, jackharlow, and 8,677,345 others

etcanada During the red carpet for her new movie, we asked Y/N if she and rapper Jack Harlow were officially broken up, we also asked her if she was now dating football player Travis Kelce. “Once I’m done with someone, that’s it, there’s no coming back. It hurts because I felt he was my soulmate, but I guess I was wrong. Travis and I, we’re just getting to know each other, we both are going through a very public break up, we help one another, wether it’s a shoulder to cry on, or you know, something else, we’re just there for each other.”

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ynupdates 😢

ynupdates what if this was my 13th reason?

harlowfan So sad. but I get it he cheated and it sucks 💔

jackharlow Technically, that’s what she thinks I did. She never saw me with her own eyes, all she knows is what people were whispering in her ear, she was already having doubts about our relationship so she decided to use that excuse. I didn’t cheat and I would never.

yourusername Is that what happened? 🤔

jackharlow Yes

Liked by killatrav, kaliuchis, theestallion, and 7,677,355 others

yourusername Now he’s hitting my line, telling me they were all lies 🥱

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theestallion Bitch you better not

yourusername Just a lick 👅

kaliuchis NO

yourusername Fine 🙄

jackharlow Because they were lies.

yourusername Boy bye

Liked by ynupdates, kelcefans, jackharlow, and 8,677,345 others

enews New couple alert 🚨 actress Y/N and football player Travis Kelce take to their social medias to post each other on their accounts. Does this mean they’re finally official? Let us know down below.

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ynsource I say I’m here for this

ynupdates 🙌🏼 yesssss the upgrade

jackharlow y’all are fake because you were under my post saying how happy y’all were when we got engaged now y’all happy she’s with some other dude

ynsource We’re team Y/N lol

yourusername 😊 @ killatrav 🤝🏼

killatrav Lmao 🤣 always 🤝🏼😉

jackharlowfans what does that even mean ⬆️

allaboutyn They’re probably just trolling or just friends with benefits.

ynupdates Y/N TELL US!!!!

yourusername 🤫 we’re just keeping each other company by warming each other’s bed among other things 🙈

killatrav & some more

urbanwyatt 👁👄👁

jackharlow we all know she’s just doing this for attention and to get me mad.

killatrav You’re so full of yourself. But is it working? Lmao stay mad. She’s with me now.

yourusername 😬 🙊

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jackharlow Ex girl got a bae now, but she still let me stay now.

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urbanwyatt I- 🧑🏼‍🦯

jackharlow 💀

druski2funnny Say what now?????? Y/n is back?

jackharlow She never left 😏

killatrav Why do you have to lie on her name for? Cheating on her wasn’t enough? You have to continue posting her and talking about her.

jackharlow Man mind your business.

killatrav She is my business though.

jackharlow Whatever you want to believe my guy.

@ jackharlow added to his story

@ killatrav added to his story

•

Liked by killatrav, kaliuchis, theestallion, dojacat, and 4,556,677 others

yourusername I’m just enjoying life.

Comments on this post have been limited

kaliuchis eso mamacita

theestallion As you should. But bitch, which of these men are you really fucking 🙊😂

yourusername LMAAAO maybe both. Who knows at this point.

killatrav 😍 Last night was fun.

yourusername It definitely was 😉

jackharlow This morning was fun

yourusername 🫣 uhhhhhh

jackharlow Quit playing already

yourusername 😬😬😬 Fine, I was with Travis last night. This morning with you 🙈 Byeeeee nooow✌🏼

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux 💕

@harlowsbby 💕

@arination99 💕

@cmalass 💕

@jackharloww 💕

@minkookie95 💕

@deannaard 💕

#jack harlow #instagram au #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x yn #come home the kids miss you

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aggravateddurian · 6 months

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Boy golly, I've just come back to tumblr and...

It's WIP Wednesday Whenever, my dudes (gender neutral, of course)!

Thank you to the following who tagged me: @wanderingaldecaldo, @chevvy-yates, @olath124 and last but not least, @ouroboros-hideout.

Judy and Val have arrived to serve cunt. Night City, you have been warned...

Where Has Durian Been?

Firstly, I've been on a bit of a tumblr hiatus. There's something screwy with my feed that means I'm not seeing everyone's new stuff (some people yes, but for others it's weeks, even months old). I stopped posting for a bit in the hopes it was something on my end. Alas, it appears not to be so.

I have elected to therefore charge ahead and just post anyway.

Yet Another Valerie Ocampo-Gonzalez Lore Rewrite/Character Respec

I've recently become very interested in netrunners, and in a move that I feel fits Val's established backstory well, she's becoming one.

Vik is surprised to find that not only has Val had two girlfriends in one year (she has relationship dramas that are often not her fault) but they have the same haircut! Clearly she has a type...

As some may be aware, I recently began writing The President's Lady, a Myers x Vega 'V' Hawse AU fic. I made some changes to Val's speciality and abilities.

Val has moved from being a Solo with a strong techie background to a netrunner. In a lore post coming up soon, Val goes on the net by the handle 's33lynx' (a play on the word 'lynx' and 'c-link', the latter being the official name for the interface plug on the back of netrunners' heads, and the former her favourite type of cat). She loses the Apogee Sandevistan for Class III netrunning hardware.

Otherwise, there's no major change in her character.

(also, if you know how to do tattoos for the VTK texture system and would be interested in a commission or request, hit me up, I have cool ideas for Val's tattoos that I've drawn sketches of, but no real idea of how to make them appear on Val's body because I ain't really a visual artist. I know my strengths, I'm a writer, not a visual artist haha)

Val's Pussy... cat, I mean cat!!!

xBaebsae released a Nibbles replacer mod about a year ago. I mentioned Val is a cat person and owned a ginger cat.

This is Pumpkin, Val's cat. In both appearances of Val (Brother's Shadow and Chorus) she's Val's cat, and both times, she's a gift from Melanie Foster. In Brother's Shadow, Melanie, of course, ghosts Val for unspecified reasons, so Val keeps Pumpkin. Pumpkin (or more appropriately, calabaza) is Judy's pet name for Val, so there's also that, I guess.

Writing Projects Continue

I am continuing to write Chapter 4 of Brother's Shadow. It's gone through the wringer as my perfectionism has once again claimed another victim. Rest assured that if you're interested in that story, it will come out before Christmas.

Chapter 3 of The President's Lady is also coming out by the end of tomorrow. Those who have me on Discord have already seen a preview, but if you're not one of those people, have a look:

Myers grinned as she placed her chin on V’s shoulder, “I can relate to that loneliness. It’s easier to talk about with someone who’s experienced it.” V nodded, “Yeah.” Myers’ hands began to explore beyond Vega’s arms, towards her hips, “If I’m out of line…” Vega felt… odd. The President… Rosalind was her boss… but at the same time, Rosalind was the only other person who really knew how Vega felt. She didn’t really want her to stop exploring. All Vega could do was smile, and follow Myers’ hands, “Glad to see we’re on the same wavelength.” The door creaked. Vega’s smile faded as Myers’ hands quickly retreated from Vega’s body. Reed stomped into the room. Myers clasped her hands as she turned to face him, “Solomon.” Reed eyed the pair of ladies. He seemed somewhat suspicious as he held up a sealed shard container, “The report, Madame President."

There are now two new projects in the pipeline. The first is The Alpha Bitch of Dogtown, a story about my femV character Vega becoming the leader of BARGHEST and Dogtown after allying with Colonel Hansen in an alternate ending to Phantom Liberty.

After being dumped by Judy (it's Vega's canon event for Judy to leave/move on from her due to various reasons), she falls in love with Bennett, who she then dumps and exiles from Dogtown after he is revealed to betray her, and she falls in love with another BARGHEST soldier who she has grown close to.

It forms part of Chorus Timelines, an AU where basically any time something begins to rot my brain, a new timeline is created where said brainrot occurs. Vega goes through a lot, I feel sorry for her.

The second is an as-yet untitled Rogue x V fic, based on an idea I developed spontaneously on Discord. I thank @merlgeim and @awwwokay for planting the seed of brainrot in my mind. Basically, Rogue falls for V(ega) after Johnny and Rogue go on their movie date, and Johnny is beside himself over it all. Queue funny interactions with Johnny about how V stole his girl.

Virtual Photography

My VP is in a moment where I come up with cool ideas, I snap them, and they either become photo stories or illustrations for future chapters of my fics. I have a few non-specific ideas that will get put through, including another Val x Judy photo story set in 2077.

I've kinda based it around one idea, and that's putting V (Val's half-brother) to rest in the columbarium after he is presumably killed at the Crystal Palace. It's the last act she does before she and Judy leave Night City with the Aldecaldos, and a capstone to the tumultuous relationship she and V have had, with Vince's final epitaph.

"See ya, V. Save a seat for me next to mom at the big bar in the sky."

What I intend to be the last words of Valerie to V in Brother's Shadow. How we get there? We'll have to find out as I develop Brother's Shadow.

Other Random Stuff

I've decided that at some point, Val and Songbird can meet and be very normal about how similar their hair is.

...

That's about it. I would like to tag: @merlgeim, @awwwokay, @ratsstick and @byberbunk2069.

Thank you to everyone who follows and supports my horrific brainrot content, and enables my continued spiral into fanfic shenanigans. Please continue to tag me, comment and/or dm me.

Cheers.

#wip wednesday #wip whenever #finally got around to it #thanks for bearing with me #blog update #cp2077 au: brother's shadow #chorus timelines #cp2077 au: the president's lady #cp2077 au: the alpha bitch of dogtown #new brainrot just dropped #oc lore drop

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j-nipper-95 · 1 year

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WIP WEDNESDAY

*brushes cobwebs aside* yep, still here, phew!

I’m back!! I’ve been more than a little AWOL with this blog recently, writer’s block is a bitch! ASR edits have all but halted, COTTA planning has completely stagnated, and epic gay sc-fi WIP never made it out of the starting gates.

But we press on.

Thank you for the tags the past few weeks @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @blackberrysummerblog @larkral @theearlgreymage @orange-peony ! Loving seeing what you’re all working on!

For now, here’s something from one of my, affectionately titled, ‘shit hits the fan’ chapters. Certain names have been redacted for spoilers 👀

“Psst.”

Lauren stopped, trying to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from. Under the tree cover, rain drops on the leaves and leaf litter distorted sounds.

“Psst.”

It was coming from a raised bank to her right, one that sloped down and away into a small clearing with a rope swing in it.

“Lauren.”

Oh this was going to be fun.

“Lauren!” [Redacted] raised his voice a little this time, and she saw his curly ginger head pop out from behind a tree on the bank. If she hadn’t wanted to cave in his face, she’d probably have laughed at how suddenly he appeared. Like a little wood sprite popping up to guide a weary traveller in a fairytale.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Lauren whispered horsely, playing the innocent.

“I heard what happened.” Of course he had. “I tried to get word to you last night, but I couldn’t get hold of you.” Funny that.

“How did you know I was up here?”

His flushed cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “I … may have followed you.”

She couldn’t keep the bitter laugh inside. “Oh, really?”

“What are you doing up here?”

“I was scoping out the area, to make sure no one had followed me up here,” she said pointedly, keeping the knife in his line of sight.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And …?”

“And I found you.”

“Ah, yes, I can see what this looks like.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Now, before you disembowel me,” he said, his easy charm suddenly oozing from every pore, “there is something you ought to know.” Lauren’s grip around the blade was getting slippery with the rain. She needed to act soon. “I didn’t come up here alone.”

[Redacted] is currently causing me some headaches, as I have no idea how to write his dialogue to show he’s Welsh, rather than just dropping it into descriptions/dialogue tags. Any Welsh mutuals/anyone who has any ideas, please, help a gal out 🙈😂

Tagging: @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @blackberrysummerblog @larkral @theearlgreymage @orange-peony @letraspal @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @stardustasincocaine @prettylightsbigcity @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @erzbethluna @ebbpettier @bookish-bogwitch @writer-nori-bard @dragoneggos

#original fiction #science fiction #espionage #a survivor's revenge #ASR #WIP Wednesday #indie author #self publishing #shit hits the fan #these chapters are pure chaos #and I love them for it #so much shit goes down #you have no idea!

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koalamuffin · 1 month

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Q&A tag game

I was tagged by @brain-rot-central. I’m tagging @verai-marcel and @luna-in-disguise. No pressure, of course loves.

Last Song: Flicker by Poppy (but I’ve also been obsessed recently with Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)

Favorite Color: Pink 💖 (I’m such a pink bitch, no shame.)

Currently Watching: So I don’t really watch tv. I watch like a lot of YouTube, like a lot a lot. So I’m currently watching Neil Newbon’s latest VOD playing BG3. But if we’re talking tv, Yuri On Ice is on my list.

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Yes? I like them all except that when it comes to sweets, I prefer to drink sweet drinks instead of eating sweet things.

Relationship Status: Single

Current Obsession: Still after all these months, Astarion. You wouldn’t be able to tell from my second page (@koalamuffin01) since I haven’t posted in a hot minute, but I’m just struggling with writing, not my love for the character lol. I still read fics everyday, all the time, it’s literally almost the only thing I do.

Last Thing I Googled: “[My area] Animal Control” There were a couple of dogs running around my apartment complex without tags and I had to get to work, so I couldn’t help. I called so hopefully someone would go out there and help the poor babies. I live near a highway so I was worried about them getting hit.

#tag game

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atonalginger · 2 months

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15 lines of dialogue

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I was tagged by @therealgchu, thank you for the tag!

I have chosen Bella Cherise this time around.

“Got to take risks in this line of work,”

You’re insane, he’s dangerous! Caution screamed. We’re dangerous too, practical reasoned, or did you forget who you are?

God, I hope he bites my ass

“Cute?” Bella scoffed, readying for a fight, “I’m a fucking bombshell.”

“You think my game is good enough to get this captain to risk his stable salary to help the Fleet steal from a galbank exec? You’re damn right I’m flattered.”

Bella came out of the bathroom, pulling the belt of the robe she’d slipped into before doing her makeup and installing her wig, exposing her bare midriff and cleavage, “you said I’d need to work the floor for gossip on Dumbrosky? Easier to get people to open up when they’re distracted, don’t you think, tovarich?”

“and yes. Last time I was in Dodgewood was when I went to pay my…when I shoved my waste-of-oxygen failure of a father into the pig pen. He was working for the wealthiest family in southern Akila, the Whitmoores, handling some under the table business. If I’m spotted around the settlement their people will be on me immediately.”

“while street rats like you were focused on your next ‘big’ score and knocking zoners skulls around I was working hard to secure my place on the Boardwalk working with the actual big players of Neon. While you were shaking down broke bastards for loan sharks and dealers I was tasked with taking down real marks worth killing. Benjamin Bayu only works with people worth talking to, which is why he has me on speed dial and doesn’t know who you are.”

«This job couldn’t wait for me to wake you up and then soothe your concerns over my ability to handle myself in this fucking city. I survived this city and all its dangers long before I met you.»

Don’t you ‘sugar’ me, Caution scrunched up her nose. Shut up, he wasn’t talking to your stuck-up ass, Practical snipped. Enough! Bella thought,

“Didn’t think you the hopeless romantic type, Del,”

“And you took her walking outside,” Bella yelled, “just parading us around so Naeva’s people could paint the bullseye on nice and big!”

“You think because you got her to eat her food a few times and got her to bed on time that you can curb a full blown meltdown? Because I can say with absolute certainty you can’t.” Bella shook her head and walked for the door, “you aren’t going to be able to ‘oh mi Conejita’ her into calm.”

“No, no, no,” Bella stepped back and rubbed her hand up her thigh and right side where Estelle’s shots hit, blood coating her palm. She held out her hand and waved it in Naeva’s face, “don’t you see you stupid bitch, I bleed crimson, same as you.”

“You should see the other lady,”

#the coemancer crew #atonalginger writes #oc: Bella Cherise #starfield oc

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itsclydebitches · 2 years

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I mentioned in the tags of a recently reblogged post that I had Opinions™ about the “OFMD fandom is racist because they’re interpreting Ed as illiterate” take that’s been gaining traction lately, so I finally decided to slam those opinions into a post. Specifically, I want to list the textual details that made me, personally, come to the conclusion that Ed is (likely) illiterate as a means of pushing back against this growing idea that anyone who crafts meta under that assumption, includes it as a characterization in fics, uses it as a means of theorizing about season two, etc. is automatically coming from a place of racism... rather than, in actuality, a pretty solid canonical interpretation. So some things this post is not includes:

A claim that OFMD/fandom in general isn’t racist in other respects. I’m speaking solely about this one example.

A claim that Ed is definitely, 100%, no room for discussion illiterate. I believe it’s a likely possibility based on what we’ve seen, but the show hasn’t provided confirmation one way or the other.

An attack against any headcanoning. Fans are free to imagine up and/or hope for whatever they like, regardless of how persuasive a reading others find it to be.

Okay, I’m doubting my ability to string this all together with halfway decent transitions right now (the heat is making my brain buzz like TV static), so let’s just stick to a list form.

1. Lucius Establishes That Illiteracy is the Norm in Pirate Culture

First off, OFMD introduces class differences in the pilot episode by having Stede gush about the “full library” he has on board... to his personal scribe... who is writing down his thoughts and adventures purely for vanity’s sake (the fact that they’re later used to save Stede’s life is a separate matter from his intentions here), only to suddenly get hit with the knowledge that no one else on the ship can read.

“That’s not... is that true?” he asks, dumbfounded, and then Stede answers his own question with a rather distasteful scoff. Lucius responds with a look that I can only affectionately caption as, ‘This bitch.’

(I am also once again apologizing for the horrendous ‘screenshots’ taken with my phone.)

All of this is deliberate. We’re setting up the dichotomy of pirate vs. gentry culture, as well as one of Stede’s major flaws. Namely, using the privilege of his upbringing as a crutch/personal safety net (with a side of that arrogant superiority: “Don’t debase yourself for a man who doesn’t even have a tureen on board!”). This is why Oluwande and Jim need to explain that for them, piracy isn’t a fun, midlife crisis and Stede comes to the realization, “I’m not a pirate, I’m an idiot.” Wealth is why he’s able to run from Ed the moment his anxiety gets the better of him, hurting him and Mary in one fell swoop when he shows back up all, ‘I’ve decided to be your husband again the same way I decided to be a pirate. Everyone bow to my whims and the privilege that allows me to enforce them!’ The ability to pay wages and read bedtime stories is what keeps Stede’s mutiny on hold for so long (a sharp contrast to Izzy who has no such luxuries to offer as a way of offsetting his own, difficult personality), Stede’s gentlemanly demeanor (born of a lifetime of social education) is what first draws Ed to him, then it’s his material wealth, and finally Stede giving up his fortune to return with only a dinghy and the clothes on his back is the sign of emotional growth.

Literacy isn’t the only marker of Stede’s privilege—far from it—but it is a major one and it’s important for setting up this contrast that drives much of the character work. Yes, Lucius is technically wrong about being the only other member of the crew who can read, though it’s clear why he came to that conclusion when Jim was pretending to be mute and couldn’t just say, ‘Hey, I can read and write too.’ Beyond that one mistake though, we have no reason to doubt Lucius’ claim. Not when the group is worried about who will continue their bedtime stories if Captain is dead and Lucius sucks at the voices. Don’t we think someone else would have spoken up to solve the dilemma if they could? More importantly, revealing that actually more of/most of the crew can read would severely undermine that thematic work of Stede’s upbringing—and that goes double for the man who represents the pinnacle of pirate culture: Blackbeard himself. We see through our flashback that Ed does not come from a place of privilege, which includes both education and material wealth based on how the show has defined privilege via Stede. Though it’s hardly impossible for Ed to have picked up reading later in life while still grappling with the trauma of growing up poor, for me there’s nothing to indicate that. Far from it: the show goes out of its way to emphasize all the ways in which Ed and Stede contrast one another, with Stede’s privilege—reading included—presented as markers of a life and emotional expression that Ed simultaneously longs for, yet feels that he’s undeserving of.

2. Ed is Shocked By the Amount Stede Has Read

When Ed is presented with Stede’s library he acts like a man who has never had access to so many books before. “Incredible,” he whispers, staring at the shelves in awe.

Except then Ed goes on to specify what exactly he’s in awe of and it’s not the books themselves. “You’ve read all of these?” he asks Stede, the ‘all’ emphasizing his shock that any one man (even in his forties) could have gotten through this many volumes. Ed doesn’t act like someone impressed with the beauty of the library itself—like we might see if he too was a reader and was simply impressed by the pretty bindings—but rather at Stede’s ability to read any library, but particularly one of this size. When Stede says that these are just his favorites, Ed gives a little huff of stunned disbelief. These are not the reactions of a man who frequently keeps books in his own cabin to peruse. Rather, they’re the reactions of someone who hasn’t read much himself, if anything at all.

In addition, Ed doesn’t engage with the text when Stede hands him the book. I’ve seen a couple people say that Ed can clearly read because he knew that was a picture of himself, but really, it’s not a hard thing to deduce. Even if Stede hadn’t led with this being something he thinks Ed will enjoy—AKA, it’s likely something about you—for all the fantasy details of nine guns and snake-like hair, Blackbeard is pretty distinctive in his look. That’s that point. He has long hair, a massive black beard, dresses all in leather, and is depicted with pirate-y things like ships and treasure. You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who that’s supposed to be an illustration of. The point though is that there’s a page of text to the left and, more importantly, a big title claiming he’s “The Mad Devil Pyrate Blackbeard,” yet Ed doesn’t take issue with the “mad” or the “devil” part. He jumps straight to looking at the image itself, despite the writing being just as valid a detail to get angry over as the nine guns.

3. Ed Treats The Books He Comes Across as Disposable

Going off of his reaction to Stede’s library, I think it would still be possible to argue that Ed is primarily impressed with the number of books he possesses (another kind of material privilege) if we didn’t see Ed get access to a huge number of books and immediately discard them. In “The Best Revenge is Dressing Well,” they raid the vessel where Stede finds several shelves of books, enough that he also refers to it as a “library.” This tells us then that most ships probably have at least a couple books on board and many, like this one, might have a big selection. So if Ed had wanted a library like Stede’s, he could have easily gotten one. He’s Blackbeard and he’s been looting ships for several decades at this point. The only reason why someone that impressed with Stede’s books would pass off so many opportunities to get his own would be if he doesn’t have a use for them, especially when books don’t carry the same toxic masculinity implications as a cashmere scarf does. Blackbeard, the legend, should be able to read with a safety that he couldn’t, say, dress in a flowery robe and recite poetry. Books are a fairly safe form of expression for a pirate (and entertainment too, something Ed lacks!) yet he doesn’t make use of them.

Instead, the way Ed acts here heavily implies to me that a) he can’t read (or can’t read well) and b) he’s feeling insecure about it. He snaps that this isn’t “how raiding works” when Stede says he’s replacing the books he’s taken with ones he’s already read, despite the fact that Ed has been pretty chill for the rest of the attack and, notably, usually likes Stede’s eccentricities. The most likely reason why he’d suddenly frown at Stede not raiding 'properly’—in a relationship where Stede’s new way of doing things is usually exciting and fascinating to Ed—is if Stede’s book focus is dredging up feelings of inadequacy. Ed opens the book, but flips through it in a way that shows a distinct lack of interest... or an inability to read it. He tosses it aside. Then he slaps the rest of the books out of Lucius’ hands. On its own this interaction might imply that Ed is disdainful of reading in general, but following how enamored he is with Stede’s personal library and his ability to work through it, the scene instead implies illiteracy. Here, Stede is enthusiastic about something Ed can’t share, on an outing where Ed is supposed to be teaching him, so he goes hard on how “raiding works” and makes it clear that books—these useless objects to him—aren’t worth picking up. Drop them and go shove a knife near a guy’s eyeball instead.

4. Ed Signs the Treaty With an ‘X’

I don’t actually have that much to say about this scene (in regards to literacy, anyway), simply because the ‘X’ alone is the big takeaway. I’m sure by now we’ve all seen the tweet claiming that an ‘X’ was used by indigenous people as a form of protest against colonizers and the historical accuracy of that aside (it’s not a discipline I’m at all educated in, but others have pushed back against both OP’s interpretation of the book’s thesis as well as whether this intersects with Māori culture), that’s simply not the most obvious implication here. We know based on interviews that the writers have unintentionally included racial coding in other parts of the show—making the men of color work during Izzy’s brief stint as captain being one of the most well known. That wasn’t meant to be an indicator of racism, just a combination of Nairn having a bad back and dumb luck regarding who was staged to do the work—so this wouldn’t be the first time that fans have come to a very different conclusion than the writers intended. Ultimately, I think it’s FAR more likely that an American writer used a well-known means of conveying illiteracy, as seen throughout American popular culture, in a show that is not at all concerned with historical accuracy... than it is that he included a very subtle, historical allusion to indigenous protest and attached that to a character whose ability to know about that and culturally benefit from it are questionable at best. Though, as said at the start, headcanoning is fantastic and adds a wonderful depth to Ed’s character, from a canonical standpoint this feels like an Occam’s Razor situation to me: the simplest explanation is the most likely.

5. The Show Doesn’t Shy Away From Establishing Who Can and Can’t Read

This is a minor point, but it helps solidify all of the above. We’re told that Stede can read. We’re told that Lucius can read. Again, those are important skills used to separate them from the rest of pirate culture. We learn in a surprise twist that Jim can also read, write, and they’re not actually mute. The show then heavily implies that Izzy can read by a) giving him a voice-over similar to Jim’s (even though we never see what he might be writing in) and b) having him spend time in Stede’s library before the fuckery and then again, this time actually looking through the books (compared to Ed’s disorganized flipping/discarding) and finding an image of Blackbeard all by himself (compared to Stede doing that for Ed). Sure, we could theorize that Izzy just happened to stumble across a book about Blackbeard, maybe because Stede has so many in his collection, and he’s only looking at pictures/pretending to read in the shots where he has a book in hand.. but again, the simplest explanation feels the most persuasive to me. The point being that the show usually makes it very clear who can read and who cannot, with those in the gray area nevertheless leaning hard in one direction. Izzy leans hard into ‘literary.’ Ed does not.

Finally, I want to quickly address a couple of arguments I’ve seen pop up over the last couple of months:

1. The Real Blackbeard was Able to Read (+ You Have to Read to Sail a Ship)

Any and all takes along these lines are immediately suspect in my mind because they’re rooted in historical accuracy... and ignore the fact that OFMD is not historically accurate. At all. The real life Blackbeard did not fall in love with Stede Bonnet. The ship runs on gay sex and story time, not legitimate sailing techniques. Any argument that begins with “But the real Blackbeard...” or “But in real life you have to...” falls flat because this is very much not the real Blackbeard and the plot is in no way bound by realism. I mean, I’m not trying to be a buzzkill. I think it’s fun to play thought games like “What if Ed and Izzy run their ship aground like they did in real life and that becomes a callback to the second episode?” but there’s a difference between fun theorizing about what random events the show might include for the laughs and trying to use historical accuracy as a form of evidence in metas. I mean, Buttons is out here communicating with seagulls and casting hexes so that Calico Jack (presumably) dies via cannonball. When your story is that untethered from reality, any claims based in realism hold little value imo. Ed being able to read because the real Edward Teach could read is no more likely than Ed dying a horrific death at... [checks Wikipedia] hmm. A year after the events of the show start. Should be happening any episode now!

2. Ed is Able to Read Music

Honestly, as someone with a 2,000 book library and no ability to read music, I’m not sure how one relates to the other, but a couple times now I’ve seen people claim that because Ed plays the harpsichord at the party, he must know how to read. Putting aside the strange conflation though, Ed isn’t reading any music here. He plays solely from memory and, given what else we see of his talents, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ed had simply memorized a few shanties over the years. He’s already learned the shape of the clouds. He dutifully repeats Stede’s words after he’s corrected on the scarf’s fabric—“An exquisite cashmere.” Though he hasn’t got it all down yet, Ed is also well on his way to learning all the insane spoons and forks involved in fine dining. The guy’s got a good head for recalling information, which to me is an entirely separate skill from the specific ability to interpret words on a page.

3. Ed Read the Placards During Dinner

Does he though? The scene begins when Ed is already seated at the table and though he does look towards the placard that says he’s Godfrey’s guest, I interpret that more for the audience’s benefit than anything else. After all, Ed is already sitting down. He knows where he’s supposed to be. Why would he need to re-read his own placard? Despite the glance in that direction, it looks like an establishing shot to set the scene. So then how did Ed know where to sit? Idk, any way someone knows where to sit without looking at their placard. Maybe one of the servants showed him. Maybe another party-goer shooed him into his designated seat. Ed acts lost and confused the whole time, looking in random directions and muttering about snail forks. He doesn’t act like someone who chose this spot confidently, nor does he act like someone who can use reading as a skill to assist him in his anxiety. That is, he doesn’t look for and find Stede’s placard to ensure they’re seated together and he doesn’t realize he’s next to the touchy woman until it’s too late.

4. Finally: How Could Ed Have Drawn an ‘X’ If He Doesn’t Know How to Read?

Because an ‘X’ is just two crossed lines that might not have any meaning to him beyond, ‘This is what illiterate people do to sign their name.’ There’s a huge gap between understanding the ‘X’ as a symbol for this particular situation and knowing how to apply it—along with 25 other letters—to read a language. I can draw the Superman ‘S’ (not an ‘S’!), but that doesn’t mean I can read Kryptonian. I can also recite the Spanish alphabet from middle school, but that doesn’t mean I remember how to apply it after years without practice. Humans are really good at tying signified concepts to signs and an ‘X’ isn’t exactly the most difficult sign to memorize. Of course, it’s also possible that Ed knows his letters, but not how to read Stede’s books. Illiteracy isn’t a black and white state of being: Ed may understand the ‘X’ only as a symbol of agreement, or as a letter, or as a part of a couple words. I feel like the fandom is approaching this as an either/or situation—you can read or you can’t—rather than a very complicated skill that takes years to master, with everyone continuing to learn as time goes on. You think I remember every grammatical rule in the English language? Or that I know the meaning of every word I come across? Or even how to pronounce them? You think I can switch to a culture I’m not a part of—an online space, an academic discipline, a friends’ text exchange—and read through it without stumbling on words, acronyms, and concepts I’ve never encountered? Just as there’s a huge range within my literacy, there’s the possibility for an equally huge range within Ed’s illiteracy too. Maybe he can’t read at all. Maybe he can recognize Godfrey’s name after seeing it on the invitation card. Maybe he can only write his name, but chose not to. Maybe he can do all that, but can’t manage the dense text of Stede’s books. Maybe he can read a bit, but can’t manage the fancy script of the gentry. Maybe the vocabulary is an obstacle. Maybe he learned a long time ago and, like my Spanish, has since lost it. There are a lot of options here that would fall under the large umbrella of 'Ed is illiterate.’

All of which is just to say: those of us working with an illiterate Ed in metas, fanfics, and the like didn’t pull that idea out of thin air and we definitely didn’t hit on it because Ed isn’t white. It’s a reading that the show is very much pointing towards and even if it’s proven wrong in season two, that doesn’t erase the strong implications we got at the start.Yes, there’s a lot wrong with fandom—I’d never deny it—but that’s not going to improve if people put their energy towards pushing inaccurate, but very satisfying claims. It’s a lot easier (and makes people feel good about themselves) to make blanket claims about how Ed Not Being White + Illiterate Interpretations = Racism... but that ease and feelings of superiority don’t make it true. Like the discourse over using any shortened version of Oluwande’s name, or the desire to saddle the antagonist (Izzy) and any fans who like him with accusations of racism, the fandom is looking for easy, black and white rules to avoid being #Problematic. But OFMD is too complicated for that—fandom is too complicated for that—and even if it wasn’t, making up nefarious motivations for character interpretations doesn’t achieve a damn thing.

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #Edward Teach #mymetas

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atmilliways · 1 year

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Part Three: Shame On Me

(part one) (part two) (part four) (part five) - complete as of 4/4/23

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2183 Ships: Steddie Major Tags: Jealousy, Casual sex Additional Tags: Pining, Slutty Steve Harrington, Pre-relationship, Landline phones

Author’s Note: Banner by @xirayn.

Read it on Ao3

“—And he’d been pissy about something the whole way here. I mean, if he didn’t want to walk me home, maybe don’t let the bartender take my fucking keys? So that’s on him, not me.”

”What was he mad about?”

“Fuck if I know, man,” Eddie sighs, then takes a long hit off the joint in one hand and jams another chipped-off spoonful of not-at-all-thawed strawberry milkshake into his mouth with the other. The room is still dark—the entire apartment is, the only light he’s bothered with since coming home was the one that automatically comes on when opening the freezer—so the only illumination to see by are the streetlights filtering in through the windows and the cherry end of the roll-up. “He’d barely talked to me all night, too busy rubbing his ass all over half the guys on the dance floor.”

Nancy hums. “Didn’t really need to know that about my ex, but thanks.”

Swallowing down on a mouthful of brain freeze, Eddie smirks bitterly into the phone where it’s pinched between his face and shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you think the chicks Steve flocked with in high school were the only slutty ones in that equation? I thought you were a feminist, Nancy. Equal opportunity and all that shit.”

“Asshole,” she retorts, but with a hint of amusement. “So, everything was totally normal until you had your . . . encounter. . . .”

“Hookup, Nancy. Say it with me: hooook . . . up.”

“Shut up. That was the only thing out of the ordinary though? And he’s never acted like that before? And then he called you Munson, and slammed the door.”

“Yes, no, yes, and yes.” Another hit, another bite of ice cream. “So, you tell me. What does it all mean? Translate for me the mystery and enigma that is Steve fucking Harrington.”

“I don’t know, but I can tell you that Steve hasn’t moved out,” she says, not unkindly. “Robin said he turned up on the early morning bus and didn’t even bring a change of clothes.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t decide to later,” Eddie points out.

“No, but it does mean that your kneejerk worst assumption wasn’t actually his first impulse, so maybe take your own catastrophizing with a grain of salt.”

And there it is: that razor-sharp slice into him that Nancy is so good at. He’d never imagined that he would end up genuine friends with Nancy Wheeler of all people, but she’s good at calling him on his bullshit and doesn’t know how to take fuck off as an answer.

“Fiiine.” Eddie sighs dramatically, but . . . okay, she has a point. Expecting the worst is kind of his thing, because that way the surprises he does encounter are usually pleasant ones. (He’d gotten even better at it since the spring of ‘86; perspective’s a bitch, and the worst he can imagine is now pretty damn terrible. Bad news first, always.)

But this? He can’t imagine he’s going to be pleasantly surprised by any of this. That would go completely against his own personal Munson doctrine. He’d told Steve fuck you very much and sent him off like an errand boy, for fucks sake.

“What am I supposed to do though, Nance?” he asks, voice low because he’s running out of steam. It’s been a long thirty-six hours, and a long ever since he met the real Steve Harrington. “First of all, I can’t take back shit I said or did while I was drunk off my ass. Second, am I just supposed to ensconce myself in a non-horny chrysalis to eternally preserve my virginal integrity? All while watching Steve slut it up with every eligible bachelor across town except me?”

And Nancy—perfect, practical, prissy Nancy Evelyn Wheeler—has the audacity to laugh at him. “Oh my god. Eddie, think about it. This is Steve we’re talking about here. He’s kind of a show-off when it comes to . . . matters of the heart—”

“Matters of the dick,” Eddie mutters through a heavy exhale of smoke.

“—And he doesn’t always think things through. He likes for people to see what they’re missing out on by not being with him. I didn’t even realize I had a crush on him until I realized I was jealous of Laurie W. of all people—do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?”

“Uh, not as embarrassing as the Freak having a crush on the King of the Jocks. Sorry babe, that trophy has my name written all over it.”

“Well, still. There you go,” Nancy says, as if that proves anything. “Everything he’s been doing has certainly got your attention. So?”

Maybe he’s smoked too much, because that makes no sense. Eddie blinks, frowns, and asks, “What? Why would he be pissed that I got laid when he didn’t and want my attention?”

Nancy sighs. “So close,” she mutters, and then refuses to explain what she means.

“Eddie?! Eddie!!”

This is how Eddie wakes up, reeling and flailing into a crablike crouch because where the fuck is he (fell asleep on the couch) and why is it fucking dark (never actually turned the lights on) and why is Steve fucking Harrington yelling his name like the building is on fire (it’s not; there would be more light, or at least smoke).

Stumbling footsteps come to a halt in front of the couch, and he hears a shaky exhale, a possible muttered there you are.

At a more normal, inside-voice volume, Steve says, “Oh, uh. Eddie. Hi.”

“Wha’ time’s it?” Eddie asks blearily, sounding and feeling like he’s gargled sand.

“It’s two,” Steve replies, leaving Eddie’s sleep-addled brain to wonder two what. “I took the late bus back from Robin’s,” he adds, which is only just barely helpful, context-wise. Flicking the lamp on the side table next to the couch on—and temporarily blinding Eddie, who hides behind his hair with a hiss—Steve leans over the couch by Eddie’s feet. However much of a rush he’d been in when leaving the other night, he’d still taken the time to change into one of his dorky polos and jeans that do his ass slightly less justice (and yet, in Eddie’s opinion, he could still qualify as a walking wet dream).

There’s a sudden plastic click followed by the curious absence of a background noise that, until now, Eddie had tuned out. Which . . . huh.

Fell asleep with the phone still on the couch, and the sound had been that funny little frantic beep of a handset left off the cradle for too long. Right. He must have kicked it off in his sleep or something.

Eddie rubs at his eyes and tries to stretch surreptitiously, but it’s hard when Steve is still standing over him, staring at him with wild eyes and hair that’s been tugged out of its usual expert coif into something the Bride of Frankenstein might be proud of.

“What?” Eddie grumbles petulantly, stifling a yawn and easing slowly into more of a sit than a crouch.

“The line was busy,” Steve replies. The tone is weirdly at odds with how he looks, sounding even and surface-level calm.

“So?”

“The last time a line was busy for multiple calls, El got arrested and the Byers’ house in Lenora got shot to Swiss cheese by a goddamn military strike force,” Steve reminds him, almost pleasantly. It’s eerie.

Eddie processes that for a moment, then screws his face up in something between chagrin and incredulity. “So did you think I got arrested, got shot, or just ripped the cord out of the wall so I wouldn’t have to talk to you?”

“Yes,” Steve all but shouts at him.

It’s way too fucking early for this.

Grumbling under his breath, Eddie clambers off the couch and snags the empty milkshake cup on his way to the kitchen, rinsing it in the sink and filling it with water that he gulps down and immediately refills. He’s desperately thirsty, but it’s also something to do while he tries to jumpstart his brain into dealing with everything—Steve being here, yesterday, the night before that, the tangle of emotion in his chest that he doesn’t know how to begin to unwind.

And Steve follows, because of course he does, and blinds Eddie again by turning on the kitchen light.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie grumbles. “You’re something else, you know that, Harrington? All this concern for my well-being, suddenly. Where was this when you canceled movie night last week because of some guy you wanted to ‘hang out’ with?”

The words echo weirdly in the paper cup that Eddie is staring fixedly down into. He wishes he could have just been left on his own for longer—he’s taken the first step in trying to get over Steve, and it hasn’t gone very well so far, but it’s a start. It’s something, and shouldn’t he get credit for trying? Steve isn’t exactly making any of this easy, with his bitchy yet dogged hovering.

Complaining and distracted but still walking him home, getting him his favorite flavor of milkshake just because he asked for one while wasted, rushing back from Robin’s in an apparent panic to make sure he isn’t dead or something. . . .

“I, uh,” Steve says, and when Eddie looks up he’s surprised to see that the guy is blushing. He’s blushing, all the way down to where chest hair peeks out of the top of his polo, and it’s unfairly attractive because Eddie can’t catch a fucking break apparently. “Yeah, Robin kind of bitched me out for that.”

Eddie has the sudden irrational urge to either tear all his own hair out or call Robin to snap at her for getting involved, because this . . . thing he has for Steve is supposed to be a secret. If she sniffed it out like some sort of lesbian truffle pig on the hunt for gay secrets and then decided to barrel in and do something about it, he thinks he’s well within his rights to do a little yelling.

“Great,” he replies flatly. “Glad you had someone to point that out to you after approximately—” he makes a show of checking his watch “—the twentieth time you’ve done it.”

Steve runs both hands through his hair. “Fuck—I know, man, I’m sorry.” He sounds a little hysterical, which, okay, really seems unnecessary considering Eddie is the wronged party here. “I fucked up, Eds! I didn’t mean to but I fucking did, just like I always—” Stopping, he shakes his head like an Etch-a-Sketch, hands still on his head. He drags them down over his face and groans into his palms. “What did Nancy tell you?”

“Uh, no, I think we’re still on what Robin told you,” Eddie challenges.

And Steve—Steve fucking Harrington—drops his hands, looks him directly in the eye with a despairing expression on his stupidly handsome face, and answers, “She told me that you can’t kick me out for being an asshole while my name is still on the lease. But I was an asshole and it was bullshit the way I treated you last night, so if you want me to go I’ll, I’ll go. I can still kick in on rent until . . . if you want to find a smaller place, or a new roommate.”

‘Your kneejerk assumption wasn’t actually his first impulse, so maybe take your own catastrophizing with a grain of salt,’ Nancy’s voice reminds Eddie. Because his first thought, when Steve offers to go, is to call her back with a vicious didn’t I tell you, but.

But.

It’s an offer. The guy looks like a kicked puppy, like this is the absolute last thing he wants to be saying but necessity is dragging the words out of him. And describing his behavior as bullshit, which. Which. Eddie has heard the Halloween party story, hiccuped into his shoulder once at the end of a long evening of smoking it up in their new apartment. ‘Bullshit’ isn’t a word that Steve uses lightly.

The prospect of Steve actually moving out makes Eddie feel like he’s been gutted, completely hollowed out. It’s not worse than watching Steve with other guys . . . but it’s not better, either.

“I’ll probably leave my bed and the rest of the big stuff, at least until I can figure out where I’m going—”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts, louder than he’d meant to, and Steve’s mouth snaps shut. “Just. . . . You live here, man. You don’t have to worry about that. Relax, okay?”

Steve hesitates, watching him carefully, then softly says, “Okay.”

In the uncertain silence that follows, Eddie turns back to the sink and refills his cup again. After a moment he hears Steve shuffle around in the background, the fridge open and close, glass clinking on the kitchen table. Eddie doesn’t even turn around before gathering up their standard midnight snack fare: a jar of peanut butter, two table knives, and an unopened sleeve of Saltines dangling from between his teeth.

It’s an olive branch, just like the second beer Steve has waiting already open for him on the table.

#i meant to post this earlier but it's been a long day and i still have (checks watch) 4 minutes in it #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfiction #eddie and nancy are friends and no one can take that away from me #my fanfiction #stranger music anthology #lie one more time come on fic

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sunlitmcgee · 2 years

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teaser #1/? for HWHBH chapter 95

TWs: Emotional/Physical/Mental abuse, forced physical contact, forced eye contact, hair being pulled, implied/reference starvation, isolation, loneliness, injury, manipulation, general exile-arc content.

Please tell me if I missed any! Going to tag @proudfreakmetarusonniku since I said I’d send you some of these. Was originally gonna do it in an ask, but this makes TWs easier and lets readers see it directly from my blog! So yeah!

Teaser below the cut!

“Come on, Tommy.”

“It’s cold.”

“Yeah, but once you get up and stop being such a bitch about it, I’m sure you’ll warm right up and be ready to have a lot of fun. Need help?”

“No. It’s cold.”

“And you’re gonna do something about that how?”

“Gonna stay here and stay warm and stay the fuck away from you, that’s how. Just…just fuck off, okay? I-I don’t need…I don’t need you to baby me or some shit. I’m fine. Just…j-just…j-ju-just please, don’t, just don’t. Don’t go….”

There was a rustle of the tent’s thin cloth being parted as Dream paused before he pulled away.

“Are you gonna come out and stop being so ungrateful, Tommy?”

The wind that whistled outside made Tommy’s blood run sharp and cold. He shivered just from hearing it. He nodded.

“Use your words.”

He flinched.

“Yes, Dream.”

The man gave a content, satisfied hum as he held out his hand. Tommy looked at it, hating how he tensed as soon as it got too close. He could smell something sour as Dream’s fingers closed like a vice around his frail wrist.

Frail.

That’s how he was.

Frail.

Tommy felt thin and frail and gray and lost as he was pulled with great force from under the tattered blanket’s thin cover and out from the tent’s grayish light into the cold, lifeless dawn of ever-silent Logstedshire. He stumbled, feet bruised, blistered and uneasy on the cold wet clumps that were made of the field’s rotten, dark, brown and dying grass. A small sound escaped him. A tiny shout or perhaps a little wince.

He nearly fell forward, but was quickly caught.

Dream’s hand was fast to grab his shoulder tight. Tight enough to where his muscled fingers pressed down on fragile bone that was visible beneath the boy’s taut white skin.

Tommy felt his shoulder threaten to crack and jolted away with a sudden, startled burst.

“F-fuck off!” He managed to screech out.

Smack.

His cheek stung before it quickly began to feel numb. Dream’s hand was soon there to grab at his hair so he was forced to crane back his neck. All he saw was bone white and small black dots along with a thin, drawn on grin.

“Are you good?” Dream asked, breath hot as his voice was dark and coarse. Like thunder rumbling at the edge of the vast, empty sea. It smelled like rotten peppermint.

“Mhm!” Nodded Tommy.

“Use. Your. Words.” Dream’s grip on the teen boy’s hair grew tighter than tight as he squeezed it firm and yanked on it harshly to put a strain into Tommy’s already shrunken voice.

“Yes!” He finally blurted. “Yes, we’re good, we’re fine! I’m fine, I-”

Dream didn’t let him finish. He just gave an annoyed grunt followed by a hard shove that sent Tommy stumbling back so his back would hit the tent’s wooden support pole. The impact was harsh. His back began to throb with yet another tender ache that pulsed and would not leave. It wouldn’t leave. He’d grown so frail and so tired, that now when he started to hurt, it just faded into the background and hung there, hard and heavy and wet.

His shirt was torn where it wasn’t soaking wet. So were his pants, whatever little remained. He didn’t have any shoes. His feet were caked in a mix of blood and dark brown goo that made it difficult to walk as Dream gave a nod of his head and led him towards the island’s small shore.

“Are you excited?”

Tommy knew better.

He nodded, and was sure to use his words.

“Yeah!” He said, weakly excited. “I am! You remembered to leave all those invites, didn’t you? You said that you would hand them out an’ leave ‘em for everybody. Y-you did that, right? That’s what you said that you’d do…”

“I did what I could.”

“B…but did you leave them?”

“I gave them all to Ghostbur and told him to leave them in a chest outside the home of whoever they were addressed to. He says he got them all delivered, and I gave the one for Tubbo to him directly so that he wouldn’t miss it or accidentally throw it away while he’s doing all his paperwork. He has a lot of paperwork, Tommy. It isn’t easy for him, being L’manburg’s president.”

“Ah,” Tommy understood what Dream was really trying to say.

It isn’t easy for him to run an entire nation. He’s got important stuff to get done. Stuff that really matters. Stuff that isn’t you.

“So…so you did do it, then?”

“Yes, that’s what I literally just said.”

“Sorry! Sorry, I was just checking.”

“I know what you were doing, Tommy.”

The water down by the beach let out a soft splash as it lapped against the dully colored grains. Tommy went silent, back turned against the frosty breeze that shifted the cold, mid-autumn air. He really didn’t know what he was doing just then. But it was better to be safe, and kinder not to ask when already he was the cause of so many annoyances.

That’s what you promised that you’d do was, for Dream’s sake, left helpfully unsaid. Tommy didn’t want to be too ungrateful. He didn’t want to cause any more bother or be an even bigger problem than he already had been. He knew that being needy had already cost him all of his old quote-unquote “friends”, and the last thing he needed was to drive Dream away and make himself end up all alone.

But that was a sad, pitiful thought.

That wasn’t the sort of thing he should be thinking. Not today.

Today, he wasn’t going to be all alone!

Today he would have Dream and several others, who he’d been allowed to invite for a little party down on the beach! It was going to be fun! There was going to be music, and cake!

Tommy suddenly felt fully awake when he thought about the cake. “Did you remember to bring the cake like I asked?”

His excitement waned when Dream’s voice snapped.

“Yes,” Dream said, “but you aren’t going to get any if you keep on bitching like that.”

He spat it out in a harsh, tight hiss. Bitching. That’s all Tommy did, wasn’t it? Bitch and moan, whine and complain. That’s why he was out here, really. Because he didn’t stop his whining so he could listen and be good for Tubbo.

Maybe I’ll be good enough to go back to L’manburg once he shows up for the party.

It was a frail little thought. A small one, weak and dumbly hopeful. Tommy knew it was better not to share it when Dream was already getting annoyed. He decided to make up for it by picking up his feet to hurry along at an even pace as they passed a few tall, log torches that were topped off by burning netherrack, turned to the right, and headed downwards along the thin dirt path that led to the island’s shore.

A gull cried out. It was the single loneliest sound that he had ever heard. A sharp, sudden, squalled scream of life that echoed hollow across an inky dark sea, the water of which hugged the side of a place that was cold and gray. Empty. Dead.

#tw abuse #tw starvation mention #tw violence #tw manipulation #tw isolation #tw loneliness #ask to tag #in case I forget #HWHBH

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eadanga · 1 year

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Addicted to You Part 8

Summary: Esang is the maid of honor in her best friend’s wedding what happens when she meets the sexy best man?

A/N: This story is for @choicesgodfanatic one of my 500 follower giveaway winners hope you love it

Esang sat with MC as she banged her fists on the table and Chris paced around “I can’t believe we lost the venue!”

“Yeah how is it we were just there to give the money what happened?”

Chris stops and looks up “I’ll tell you what happened Becca happened”

MC stands furiously “I knew it! What did she do?”

“Bribed the owner to make us lose it but don’t worry MC I took care of it”

“You did how Chris?”

“Told them I’ll sure the hell out them if we didn’t get that venue back good thing our NFL team has lawyers they helped us out”

“Really did it work?”

“At first they didn’t believe me but then they called them and threatened them so they gave us the venue back and told me what happened”

MC sighs “Thank God”

“Now what are we gonna do about Becca?”

“I’d say lets all confront her now that stupid stunt was crossing the line”

Chris nods “Good idea”

Esang grins “Oh let me get Shakarree over here I know he’ll like to say somethings too”

MC smirks “Oh you mean your lover boy?”

“Knock it off” Esang shoves her playfully as MC laughs

MC giggles “Sorry boyfriend”

“Yeah yeah tease all you want”

Shakarree arrives an hour later he kisses Esang on the cheek then sits down next to her “So we’re taking a bitch down today?”

Chris chuckles “Yeah that’s right”

“Good I didn’t like her at the party she just acted weird and crazy”

A knock comes to the door and Chris opens it and Becca smiles as she flutters her eyelashes “Chris I knew you’ll call me”

“Becca we need to talk now”

“Oh? Why Chris?” Chris steps aside and Becca sees everyone sitting glaring at her “What’s going on?”

MC stands “Listen bitch we had enough of your stupid games!”

Becca glares at her “Who you think you talking to?”

“You bitch!”

“We know all about the crap you pulled at the venue good thing we got it back”

Becca huffs “Ugh I swear useless people”

Chris frowns “So you admit it? Why did you do that?!”

“Because! I don’t want you marry her! You should be marrying me!”

Esang scoffs “Who would marry you?”

Shakarree smirks “No one not even her fake husband”

“How’d you find out about that?”

Esang laughs “None of your business that’s how”

“Yes we know about that too Becca did you make that up just so you can show off to Chris?”

Becca stomps her foot “I was trying to show Chris how successful and rich I’ve become! While you’re here with your lowlife friends!” Becca jabs a finger in MC’s direction “I’m much better than you!”

“Better at what? At being fake?”

“I hate you Chris should be mine but you stole him from me!”

MC laughs “I didn’t steal anything not my fault he chose the better woman”

“You bitch!” Becca lunges for her but Chris holds her back

“You’re not gonna touch her! Becca get out and don’t ever bother us again!”

“But Chris I love you so much”

“I don’t love you and I never will now get out!”

Becca huffs and walks out the door then she turns around “This isn’t over you won’t live happily ever after I’ll make sure of it”

As she leaves MC yells “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

Esang and Shakarree crack up as Chris shuts the door

MC rolls her eyes “What is wrong with that bitch?”

“I have no idea” Chris walks over to MC and takes her hands in his “But she won’t ruin anything”

“I know she won’t Chris”

Tags: @indiacater @mfackenthal @the-soot-sprite @choicesgodfanatic

#Chris Powell #Christopher Powell #chris x mc #tf/ts/tj/ts #choices tf/ts #the freshmen series #The Freshman #choices the senior #the junior #The Sophmore #choices fan fiction #choices fanfiction #choices fandom #chris fanfiction #chris fanfic

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