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#tavia is on her bullshit
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tumblr please be so fuckin fr rn lmao
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dalekofchaos · 1 year
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Couple of TWDG unpopular opinions
Season 2 would’ve been better if we replaced the Cabin group with the 400 Days characters or even better, replace Arvo with Eddie and use the 400 Days crew and Tavia instead of the evil stereotypical Russians and just have the final episode of Tavia and co getting revenge for losing their home and it ends with either Clem choosing to save Kenny or Nick
Killing off Omid and never mentioning Christa ever again was stupid
The story would be better if Clem was looking after Christa and Omid's baby instead of AJ
Ben, Sarah, Nick, Luke and Mariana being killed off was pointless
TNF should’ve been about the season 2 ending. Either Clem alone, Clem in Wellington or Clem with Kenny or Jane(or if they didn’t kill him so stupidly, Luke) and Clem building her own community and raising and protecting AJ
Only mentioning Lee in the final season was a disservice to Kenny, Jane, Luke, Alvin and Rebecca. The fact that Lilly never mentions Kenny and even wishing he were still alive so she could kill him herself would’ve been enough and Clem shutting her shit down in a similar Kenny style. "I am glad Kenny smashed your piece of shit father's head in. God you are still not over it are you? All this hard bitch is just for show isn't it? After all this time, you are still the same scared little girl crying for daddy's help. Well get the fuck over it, Lee had enough of your bullshit and I have too. Go to hell Lily, tell Larry I said fuck you!"
Not going back to Richmond after getting AJ back was honestly bad writing in my opinion. Clem and AJ already had a home waiting for them with a family who wanted Clem to return. Ericson is a nice place, but unless there is an explanation as to why they didn’t go other than “...shut up, that’s why” it’s really fucking stupid. If it were up to me, Clem would’ve sought help from Javi, Gabe and Richmond get the kids back instead of James. The rescue is a success. Lilly and her people are dead and we get the choice to either return to the school or Richmond. Or hell even the choice to go back to Clem’s old house as was in the cut ending with AJ(or Christa’s child if they didn’t erase that plotline) and whomever your love interest is.
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awryen · 6 months
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*CACKLING*
Ok, so. Tavia goes and gets Gale first. Gonna hc that she didn't see Shadowheart just yet and finds her later.
Anywho, she finds that weird swirling rune and OOP. A hand. She shakes away that sudden urge to gnaw on it and instead slaps the shit out of it.
(i always choose that cause it's *hilarious*)
Gale's already intrigued by the random person just slapping his hand, then they calm the rune with magic?
Ok. He's definitely interested.
He gets yanked out, she falls backwards cause of the sudden slack after he comes free of the rune, and queue the whole introduction. Complete with her cocksure lie about taking the ship and landing it safely and Gale basically calling bullshit. :V
But here's the fun bit and where I think Gale, unfortunately (fortunately, y/y?) ends up kind of smitten already: Astarion pulls his little trick, tackles Tavia, and as her at knife point.
Gale does his little threat. (be still my beating vagina)
Tavia, meanwhile, is annoyed at the fact she's in someone's hold, her survival instincts are kicking in (not to mention her untamed magic being to boil a bit) as the two males are snipping at each other and she just headbutts Astarion before he can get his whole "nod" talk out.
Queue the first of Gale's many small "Oh" moments.
It all goes downhill from there~
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myhiraeth · 7 months
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@headstrongblake sent: do you think it's easy to know that you got to witness all those moments I can only imagine with my daughter?? / nick&louis
“No, I think it’s hard as shit and you know what- it should be.” He shrugs. He’d never claim to be the smartest, or most tactical, or most anything in a room, and there are some things, some nuances, that just are beyond his understanding. Nick leaving Fox alone, in the hopes she’d be safe but locked away from him like a princess in a tower? That’s beyond him. Knowing his daughter, his own little flesh and blood mix of him and the woman he was clearly madly in love with, was out there somewhere and had never seen his face? Heard his voice? That he’d never seen or heard hers? Years of missing firsts and seconds and bedtime stories and getting soaked in a particularly difficult bath- he had chosen to be without that and all the logic and all the safety in the world couldn’t make Lou understand it. 
He wouldn’t let Octavia out of his sight if she were pregnant. If they had a kid together you’d bet your ass he’d know where they were at all times and he’d have immediate access to them at all times, no matter the risk. 
But maybe that’s why he’s who he is and Nick’s who he is. 
“You missed so much and the thing I don’t get is that you did it willingly. And I’ve heard Foxie tell us it was mutual and she agreed and whatever but you and I both know that’s bullshit because that girl would throw herself on a fucking grenade for you so I know the risk wasn’t more important than being with you so she probably listened to you because you’re smarter and you’re better at this shit but that doesn’t make it mutual.” 
He feels like he’s ragging on Nick and he forces himself to take a breath. “All that to say: Fox and me and ’Tavia recorded like, every minute of Wil’s life so if you want to see any of those moments, they’re all there whenever you want. I think ‘Tavia downloaded them all to like, home movie format or whatever when Fox mentioned wanting to show them to you.” 
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chcmpgneprcblems · 1 year
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I bet it never, ever, occurred to you that I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye / octavia
@headstrongblake
It occurred to him. He felt the same way for a while. They'd lost so much during the war, had so much of their childhoods stolen from them. A loss right now, now that things were finally calm, would kill anyone. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter because there was no risk here. There was nothing short of death that could pull Cormac from Octavia now. "Say Hello, Tavia." He said softly, almost like he was talking to a wounded animal. But there was a devious smirk on his face as he took a step forward. He gave her a minute, but when she said nothing, his grin only widened. She was scared. Octavia Blake didn't do scared, but Cormac could see it. She was his person. His soul. He could see straight through the exterior. Finally, he moved all the way to her so fast he probably blurred. His hand went around her throat and his face was so close to hers that his lips brushed hers when they moved. "I said, Say Hello, Octavia. You want to push me away because you think it'll be easier now than if fate forces it or if I leave you or what ever bullshit you're telling yourself. But it's crap. So say Hello like a good girl and then shut up so I can kiss you until you don't remember your name, Blake."
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eerythingisshaka · 4 years
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The Coffee Prince Pt. XIV
[T’Challa x Reader]
Word Count: 4.3K
*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3*  *Part 4* *Part 5* *Part 6* *Part 7* *Part 8* *Part 9*  *Part 10* *Part 11* *Part 12* *Part 13*
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A/N:  Long break, but it’s back!  Hope those who read are still here to enjoy and new ones get with it too.  SO much has happened for a recap but shit went down. and now we are here.  Links to previous chapter above.
Tavia stands before you, looking healthy in plain clothes, less bewildered than your last meeting with her hair braided back like Cleo in Set It Off.  Your mouth goes dry from anxiety as you grip your door, thoughts ping pong in your mind to let her in or slam it in her face.  She has no right here.  Why didn’t you throw her shit out anyway?
Shuri steps between you both, speaking softly.  “This doesn’t have to happen if you don’t want it.  She is only here because she has made strides in rehabilitation but you have the final say.”
You swallow the rock in your throat, feeling damned by this choice being up to you. But at least you could control this situation.  “I don’t want this.”
Shuri nods,  “Then we will leave.”
“But I need to.  If it’s over with now, I can be done for good.”  You step your feet heavily aside from the doorway to allow Tavia entrance.  She hesitates, looking away but once Shuri gives her the go ahead, Tavia shuffles by to go straight to her room.  
“Do you need me with you?”  Shuri asks.
“No, it’s fine.  Thanks.”
“Ok, I will be just around the corner, waiting.”
You thank Shuri, before shutting the door slowly.  You instantly feel warm and stifled.  Having this space alone has been Hell itself but having someone there you absolutely loathe was worse.  You choose a spot on the couch, biting your fingernail anxiously.  Each click of the nail to tooth comforted you during the ransacking Tavia was doing in her room.
Tavia steps out with a duffle bag over her shoulder and a rolling luggage bag by her side.  She closes the door behind her, meandering to the middle of the living room and stops.  
“(Y/N),”  Tavia says calmly.
You lift your hand up  between your face and her.  “Don’t fucking say my name, just...”
“Ok.”  
You both sit in a stalemate of silence, making you gradually angrier.  The presence in your place felt stifling, felt evil.  You can’t stand it.  “Tavia, why aren’t you leaving?”
Tavia shrugs.  “I want to talk to you.”
“Then talk!” you shout out.
“(Y/N), you told me not to.”
You stand up, clapping aggressively.  “I said don’t say my name, Tavia!  You don’t listen, damn!”
“I’m sorry!”  Tavia screams out.  Her hands fall to her sides in defeat.  “I can’t make it better but I can’t stop being sorry!”
“And you can stay being sorry, but I will never give a fuck about the apologies!”  Your voice shakes your core, making your head throb from the energy you’re exerting.  The adrenaline you get from letting her know exactly how you feel is exhilarating and long overdue.
Tavia closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.  Tavia has never been the bigger person in an argument.  If the old Tavia caught this attitude, the whole apartment building would’ve had a show to watch.  “I just hope when you see him again, you’re as tough on him as you are on me.”
You feel your feet moving before you can think, bounding towards her.  Tavia retreats behind the kitchen bar.  “Chill, chill!”
You glare at her from behind the counter.  “Who are you threatening?  After all this bullshit, you’re still fucking around and throwing Erik in my face like he’s your personal hitman now?  Don’t think I won’t tell Shuri.”
Tavia scoffs.  “Erik?  Fuck him!  I haven’t seen him since that day.  I just know he ain’t dead, since Wakanda doesn’t fuck with that kind of thing.”
“What do you mean?  If you don’t talk to him, how do you know he’s not dead?  He almost killed T’Challa.”
“Because when I thought my head was on the chopping block, one of the red chicks said capital punishment isn’t practiced anymore.  I was talking about T’Challa, actually.”
“Shut up.”  You walk away, shutting her out as much as possible.
“I’m serious.  You want to come at me for what I did, that’s fine but you got a lot to talk to him about and I just hope cuz he dickmatized you, that you don’t let him off easy.”
You fold your arms defiantly.  “What do I have against him?  He protected me from you all acting up on me.”
Tavia bucks her eyes at you wildly.  “Do you really feel no anger towards him during all of this?”
“Of course I do!  But this isn’t about him right now!  Why are you deflecting so damn much?  You should be telling me how you and Erik decided kidnapping me and taking over an African nation could possibly turn out for the best!”
“I wasn’t a part of that.  I was-”
“But you were Tavia!  YOU put that gun to me just like he did.  I had no autonomy because you stole that by putting fear in me because I was so shook my best friend could flip on me like this.  How am I supposed to take that Tavia?  Should I just forgive you for being so close to ending my life?  And ending my child’s!”
“I didn’t know you were pregnant!  There’s no way I would’ve put you through that with that on information.”
“I didn’t know either, Tav.  But it sure is great to know that is where your moral code sticks.  ‘Let’s not wreck the fetus but send her through all the hell she can take.’  And you want to talk about T’Challa?  T’Challa the bad guy??  I would’ve taken his lies way better if they didn’t have to come out because my life was in danger!”
Tavia shakes her head, picking up her bags to leave.  “He is selfish.  If you know him, he is barely any better than Erik.  He just has a nicer way of talking.  They all lie, they all kill, you just gotta pick a side.”
“So which are you, Tav?  You still deciding?”  you ask, plopping on your couch with exhaustion, unscrewing the cap of your room temperature wine to take a swig, your hands shaking.
Tavia points to her chest, “I’m for me.  I suggest you do the same.  Don’t let him lead your life anymore.”  
“I haven’t seen him in months.  Trust me, I’m over it.”
She walks over to the door, stopping to look back at you.  “Stop thinking about him.  Get rid of that damn stuffed panther plushie, and maybe move cuz I know you can’t afford this place alone but you need a new environment.”
“Step, Tavia.”
“I’m sorry girl.”  
When she finally leaves, you glug the wine bottle a little more to drink down the pain, coughing it up when your throat closes too tight to swallow anymore.  Wiping the drips of wine off your mouth, you cry out harder than you had since you came back home from Wakanda, feeling your loneliness hit you hard.  There was no way to repair things with Tavia, no matter how badly you wanted it.  And there was no way you would reach out to T’Challa for anything ever again, no matter how badly your heart ached for a glimpse of him.  You hoped he would stay in Wakanda for good.  If he could do anything for you now, that would be the best gift you could ask for.  
The weather was getting cooler by the day as fall snapped the summer heat wave, you had more reason to stay in and unsocialize from the world around you.  You stay up late watching a marathon Will & Grace, laughing at Jack using his teaching position in his acting studio as a means to pick up guys.
“That would not fly today,”  you quip between laughs, hugging your panther plushie under your chin in the darkness of your bedroom.  The world around you grows quiet as the days get shorter, giving you peace with a sprinkling of eerie sensations.  You look at your bedroom door instinctively, feeling a shiver run down your spine ominously.  You close your eyes and shake your head.  Being alone and in the dark makes your imagination run in a dangerous direction.
“It’s nothing.  There is nothing.  It’s just you,”  you repeat to yourself again and again, pulling your covers tighter.   Your brain visualizes the worst at night.  Prowlers, murderers, ghosts, and monsters plague your brain when night falls no matter what you have watched before bed.  You say a prayer for protection to ease your worry, but something hovers above you, waiting for you to trip over your words.
The brightness of your TV creates a halo that makes your eyes tired, so you rest them while listening to your episode play out in the background.
*BANG*
The sound makes you hop up in your bed.  Listening carefully, you try to orient yourself and find out where it came from.  Your TV is off, leaving you completely wrapped in pitch darkness.  
“Heyyy, princess.”
You gasp sharply, seeing for the first time a dark intimidating figure standing by the window,
His voice is calm but in a way that you know you fucked up.  “You thought we were through?  Nah, far from it.”
He lunges at you, ripping your blanket back and pulling you by your ankles off the bed.  Yu land on the floor hard, feeling yourself land on a charger.  Your body seizes up, voice completely stolen as he gets on his knees, pushing your shoulders back until he has a clear grip on your neck.
“Just cuz that bitch punked out on me, don’t mean it’s over.  I’m taking you out regardless, and that fake ass T’Challa can come get you once your soul gone.”
His grip on your neck tightens harder and harder.  You try to beat his hands off of you but it feels like you’re underwater as your arms move slow and heavily.  You reach for his face to give him any reason to let off of your neck, but he won’t let loose his hold.  
His snarl glows in the darkness as his hands compress your neck.  “See how you like the afterlife without ancestors to take care of you, princess.  He has no clue what it’s like to be us.  Where is he now?”
You let in a deep breath suddenly, sitting up continuing to gasp for air.  Your hand rests at the base of your throat, making you pull it away, quickly running to the lightswitch.  Once your room is illuminated, you see your wrinkled up blankets, your plushie on the floor.  The TV is still off but no one is waiting at your window.  
Your heart is still pounding as you pick up your plushie and sit on the edge of the bed, taking time to evaluate what happened.  The violence of your dreams were nothing new, keeping you from being able to rest most nights.  Most of them are short, and jolt you awake so soon that you barely remember them but this one was vivid and completely etched in your brain.  Erik waking you, dragging you, choking you.  Your neck still feels sore like it happened but that must’ve been your own doing, there’s no other way.  
You fall back on your pillow but your body was too energized by the fight to rest anymore.  You watched the sun come up in its bright orange hue, lovely but nowhere near Wakanda’s views.  
At work, you feel the lack of rest overcome you as you type away at your computer, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on the keyboard.
A coworker of yours tosses a scarf around their neck with a flourish.  “Hey!  I was going to make a coffee run, and you look like you could use some!” they say in a sing songy manner.
You look up at them before leaning back and rubbing your temples.  “Ah, that’s fine.  I’m disciplining myself to finish this report before I get any treats, and I am just about there.  I’ll get some for lunch but thanks.”
“Suit yourself.  I just need something warm.  This building is terrible with heat in the winter time.  Uh...is that a hickey??”
You pull up the collar of your shirt further, feeling hot from embarrassment.  “No, uh, I got an allergic reaction.”
They squint their eyes.  “Lemme see…”
You grab your phone, pretending to take a call and apologize.  They shrug and mouth that they will talk to you later.  No way in hell could you explain that you choked yourself last night, which sounds even more freaky than the hickey assumption.
Making their exit, you rest your head on your arms for just a couple minutes and it feels so good, you can’t stand to be at work anymore, wishing you could snap your fingers and be done with the day.  Instead you shake yourself loose and type away, continuing your project until the very last minute before lunch.  
You feel a small sense of accomplishment, having done something arbitrary in the grand scheme of things but to add some positivity to your life, you decided not to deny yourself your promised treat:  a hot cup of a frilly coffee drink and maybe even a little cake pop or something.  Treat yourself Tuesday is afoot!
As you bundled up for the weather, you took your time crossing the street to make your way to the coffee shop near your job, crunching the red and orange leaves habitually along the way.  As you walk in, the smell of the roast livens you up on impact.  You wait in line behind the others, looking over the menu for fall specialty drinks until it’s your turn and you order our usual macchiato along with a big chocolate chip muffin..
“Abby!”
“Tall vanilla latte, no foam!”
“Sausage egg sandwich for Steven!”
“Order for Thomas!”
You check your phone lazily scrolling through celebrity feeds until your order is ready.  
“Oh shit, I forgot to ask for it to be warmed,” you say to yourself.
“Already done!”  The peppy freckle faced barista says.
You hold your hand over your heart, touched.  “Thank you so much!”
You put the warm pastry in your pocket and walk out taking a sip of your drink.  As you round the building, a figure in the distance looks familiar.  Long black coat, broad shoulders, a contemporary confident gait.  Your stomach does a somersault, feeling dizzy and breathless all at once.  You take your time watching him walk away, heading for the garage parking lot.  There was no doubt in your spirit that that was who you thought it was.  Your reaction told the truth that your eyes couldn’t confirm.  Was he in the coffee shop while you were?  Did he ignore you for his benefit?  No, that wouldn’t matter because that’s what you wanted.  But how could he not say anything?
After work one day you head over to the community center to visit with Shuri.  It had been a while since Tavia came that you got to talk to Shuri.  As you turned the corner the parking lot of the center looked pretty empty compared to what it used to look like during the school year.  
Walking up to the building you look around and catch a glimpse of a balloon caught in a powerline.  Across the street from the center is a park.  That park was the area in which the community block party was held that T’Challa invited you to early on in your relationship.  The bustling bodies congregated around food and music was so awesome, they really pulled something off great that day.  When T’Challa carried your weak ankle self back to your place to help mend, he seemed like the most important thing to you on Earth.  You never thought he would be the kind to lie and leave.
“HEY!”
The bang of the doors in front of you opening startles you.  A body rushes towards you suddenly.  You feel doom impending upon you as you raise your hands to stop the attack.  This wasn’t going to happen again.
“Stop stop stop!”  You yell out, stepping backwards your heel collapses over the edge of the sidewalk.  The rough asphalt catches your hand behind you as you watch two youths run past you giggling, not even noticing you on the ground.  Their laughter fades in the distance as they run across the street in the grass, slinging their backpacks at each other morning stars.
“Hey!  Why are you on the ground?”
Shuri comes out of the doors, leading with a hand out to you.  You instantly feel foolish having this stylish teenager helping you up as you sit amongst rocks and old gum.
“No reason.  I wanted to come by but some kids-”
“Eh!  It was Marcus and Angel, right?  They play too rough, and I try to tell them but they have NO RESPECT!”  She shouts at the top of her lungs to the unknowing kids.  “Come in, I was just thinking about you.”
Walking inside, the warm colors greet your eyes, entertaining you with their aesthetic.  Deep, cherry wood lines the hall with intricate carvings along the ceilings and baseboards.  Touchscreens displaying activity schedules, meal menus, and student achievements are located at the end of each hall.  You can just barely see the inside of the gym through the double doors to the left.  
“I don’t think you have ever been in here before.  Have you?”  Shuri asks.
You shake your head.  “I guess some things got in the way.  It looks amazing in here.”  
“Thank you.  It took a lot of planning on my part.  Jabari can be very stingy with help sometimes.”
“Who is Jabari?”  you ask.
Shuri starts to speak but catches herself.  “Come this way.”
Her square block heels clop down the hall as you follow behind.  She takes you to a podium in front of a frosted window.  
“This is something I especially like.  New visitors to the center are shown this during the tour, usually toward the end.  It gives a bit of some background on what brought us here and what our mission is.”
She pushes a black panther head embedded in the stand, which begins to stream a flood of light onto the frosted glass.  A voiceover talks to you about the long reign of Kings and Queens that reside in the independent nation of Wakanda.  Images of the sprawling landscape and the beautiful sunset lure you in.  Images of King T’Chaka come in that show him making a boisterous speech that is translated by a narrator. Stating his desire to close the gap of education, generational wealth and health disparities between whites and minorities across the world.  He says he wishes to make a better world for himself and his son.  As he picks up a toddler, you see a young boy with multiple beaded necklaces around his neck, smiling and clapping as a crowd cheers.
“I wasn’t born yet, so don’t worry, it gets better,”  Shuri whispers to you jokingly.  
Your eyes begin to water and it catches Shuri’s eye.  “Sorry.  He just looks...like himself.”
You feel butterflies, holding your stomach as you reminisce on what was.  The little boy in that film is T’Challa with his father.  And he looks so much like Bean did in your dream, shockingly so.
The voice over goes on to showcase the outside of the community center during its construction.  Some big burly man lug logs of wood, breaking them down to lumber.  
“Those are Jabari,”  Shuri says.  
A shot of T’Challa looking over blueprints and directing construction workers fill your vision.  You focus on him, looking at his hair coils, his black clothing with the pop of embroidery.  The camera zooms in on his long finger pointing to the blueprints and fades back in to show the constructed center.  As the film closes a final shot of T’Challa welcoming you and hoping you stay crumbles you.  This was him before he ever knew you.  He looked so happy and accomplished and looking forward to the future.  Nothing like how you left him.
Shuri touches your arm.  “Is everything alright?”
You shake your head.  “Is there a bathroom close?”
“Two doors down.”
You jog down to find the unisex bathroom, pushing open the door heading straight for the sink.  Your head is pounds as you gasp for breath through your tightening throat.  Each inhale feels more painful than the last as you lean your back against a wall and tears roll down your cheeks.  You heave a big breath and sob out loud, wringing your emotions out like a sponge.  This amounted to too much today.  Tavia’s words ring in your ear as you realize she’s right.
The door opens a crack as Shuri pokes in and sees you weeping.  She doesn’[t say a word as she wraps her arms around you, taking on your pain with all her little frame can handle. You feel like you’ll never stop crying, especially with Shuri there to help you through it.
“Please...I can’t,”  you squeak.
Shuri squeezes you tighter.  “Yes you can.  Just cry, it is fine.”
-
Shuri offers you some tissue to wipe your face and says, “He isn’t here, I’m sorry if you were looking for him.”
Wiping your eyes, you barely look at Shuri out of guilt.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have come.”
“It’s ok.  But he’s been spending more time in Wakanda now, so if he’s here it’s for official business.”
You purse your mouth before saying, “I swear I saw him this week.  Leaving the coffee shop near my job.  But it couldn’t be, I know he would’ve said something to me.  Has he been in town at all?”
Shuri stands quietly, looking past you.
You look at her face suspiciously.  “Has he mentioned me at all?”
Shuri’s shoulders fall as defeat washes over her face.  “I don’t want to be the one to talk to you about him.  He should be doing that.”
“I know!  But...I can’t contact him except through you or by coming here.  I shouldn’t have to hunt him down, why hasn’t he even checked on me?”
Shuri tightens her jaw, refusing to answer.  You get up and walk past her to throw away your tissue.  
“Ok.  Well tell him he needs to take his bank info off of my rent.”
“He won’t do that.”
“So you have talked to him about that?  He said something?”
“He won’t let you be without.  Even if he isn’t talking to you currently.  He may just think you need space but I haven’t got a single idea what is going on besides Wakanda.”
“It’s fine.  I’ll move then.  That will cancel it officially and he won’t have to extend his charity to me anymore.”
“What?  Where are you moving?”  Shuri asks.
“Shuri, you know I can’t tell you.  But I have to leave that place.  Probably this city.  I hate my job and I haven’t been myself since Erik came and fucked things up.  I’m done, there’s nothing for me here.”
Shuri takes our hands in hers, eyes heavy with sympathy.  “I know he wouldn’t want that.”
You shrug.  “I can’t care anymore.  It’s holding me back.  I want to leave all of what happened behind.  But here while I’m here, I have had nothing but constant memories of it.  And Shuri I love you, but your brother is job.”
Shuri nods.  “With no benefits that I can see, if you ask me.  I understand, you deserve more.”
At your office, you draft a resignation letter a couple times before the verbage hits just right for you to print and sign.  Giving it an official trifold, you put it in your desk drawer and feel your excitement in your toes just thinking about a new chapter in your life that could lead to bigger and better things.  Most of your work hours have been filled with researching homes and jobs in other counties or and some neighboring states.  
“Hey hey!  You look a little peppy!  Have you had your coffee on time today?”
Your coworker invites you to join them on a field trip to the shop, talking your ear off about the office gossip, which reminds you not to tell them about you leaving until after you have given your letter to your manager.  When you make your order, they treat you by paying for the two of you and you sit together waiting on your name to be called.
“One order for Kibble, one for Bits!”
“That’s us!  I’ll get it, stay here.”
You look out the window watching the breeze whip the trees loose of their leaves until they come back, setting your drink in front of you.
“Here you go.  My phone is buzzing the hell out my ass.”  As they take their call, they get more irritated with each minute, rolling eyes and mouthing words they choose not to say.
“Sure thing, thanks Karen!  Girl, I apparently have to help fix a fuck up that wasn’t mine AGAIN!  Fuck this job!”
“Right?  Well, hit me up another time.  You still have to tell me about who ate Lawrence’s lunch when he went the fuck off.”
“You right.  It was me, but there’s more to it.  Catch you later!”
You smile after them, taking your cup in your hand to carefully remove the top to release some heat.  Coffee jumps onto your hand, hot and messy.  You shake off the excess liquid and subtly lick your finger, spinning outward to get up and get a napkin.  
“Need this?”
You take it thankfully, looking up at your good samaritan and freezing in place.  He takes a seat in front of you, using another napkin to wipe the table up.
“How are you, umhle?”
Your mind is empty.  Your sight goes black.  You can’t recall what happens, until you hear him holler as your drink is tossed down his lap.
Masterlist
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@sweetpeachjones​@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​@universalbri​@therevolution-willbelive@you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines​@airis-paris14​@afraiddreamingandloving​@kreolemami​@lalapalooza718​@syreanne​@thiccdaddy-mbaku​@she-is-golden @wakanda-inspired​@90sinspiredgirl​@bidibidibombaclaat​@sithlordslut​@brujademente​@chaneajoyyy​@slimmiyagi @lewatigress​ @shesakillerkween @queentearra @fiercedeception@yaachtynoboat711​ @yofavcocoa @katasstrophey​ @zxddy-panther​@babygirlofwakanda​@destinio1​ @heyauntieeee​ @ambthegamer​ @savageiz​@klaine15689​ @nickidub718​ @dramaqueenamby
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my100hiraeth · 5 years
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Fox drabbles: feral Fox @ the dropship 
(based on this plot that I still want with people c’mon now) PART ONE HERE 
ft. @heartmotivated / @respnsibility / @omousvarii , @cvckroach / @ragingicarus , @silcntmuscle , @headstrongblake , @alloyedsteel , @dievoted , @burntmctches
The sun had started to set, but she didn’t want to get up. She wanted to sit here, drifting in and out of consciousness until she finally blacked out for good. She could feel sweat dripping down the sides of her face, leaving little trails from her heated forehead down the sides of her nose and under her cheeks. To someone who couldn’t see the source, it may just look like she was crying. But she’d run out of tears... minutes? Hours? Some time ago, she had no idea how long. All that was left was fever sweat and a deep desire to finally give up. She was so tired, so hurting, so defeated... she was so done. 
Uh uh. Get up. Or maybe she wasn’t out of tears, as more immediately started sliding down her cheeks at the familiar deep voice of her rebel king. She didn’t look up at him, shame filling her heart and her eyes, and shook her head at the ground, and his voice grew more emphatic. Fox. Get up.
Another voice joined him, taunting and familiar in it’s almost indecipherable humor. The camp’s enforcer, back to force her to her feet just as he’d forced the camp into whatever shape Bellamy had wanted it. You’re not giving up.
They shouldn’t be together, and yet in her mind it was the only way she wanted to see them. Together. A team. On the same side, just as they had been when the camp was filled with promise and excitement and the world was full of greatness and possibility. “I can’t.” She whispered to the dirt. 
Bullshit. Of course it was Murphy who’d call her on bullshit. You can, you just don’t want to.
“Maybe I don’t!” She looked up with pained anger in her eyes, only to see nothing and no one in front of her. Great. She was hearing things now to, talking to the ghosts of people that weren’t here and weren’t even dead. Awesome. But the knowledge didn’t stop her. “Maybe I’m just too tired.” She whispered, tears dipping to the dirt beneath her.
But their voices were right, and she gripped the post of the gate and dragged herself to her feet, wavering for a minute before finally stumbling toward the dropship. She knew she needed a lot of things, but right now sleep was the only thing she could think of. She managed to trip her way into the dropship, to the back where a tattered hammock still hung. She fell into it, eyes already closing for who knew how long, listening to the phantom sounds she vaguely remembered from when the grounder’s sickness had ravaged the camp, feeling a familiar hand reaching for her forehead, cool and reassuring, the hand of a boy who hadn’t been alive to give her or his bloodied, tortured best friend the comfort they’d needed as they fought for their lives against a bio weapon they didn’t understand, though they’d both desperately needed him. There was no voice with this hallucination, but then he hadn’t been a fan of words in life, why would he use them now when she herself was fading away? 
                                                                  --
Fox! She jolted awake, falling from the hammock and to the metal floor with a yelp that quickly became a whimper. “Octavia?” She called softly. It had been her voice, right? Maybe? “Harper?” Maybe Harper’s, her brain was a little fuzzy right now. She sat on the floor for a few minutes, waiting for one of the girls to come inside, but it seemed they weren’t going to. “Guys?” She called a little louder, starting to crawl to the doorway that would lead her outside, still so exhausted, but realizing the metal bit into her knees in a way that made the drill holes practically burn with agony, and she was forced to stand on unsteady legs as she went to the sheet-covered door. 
No one was there, though, and she slowly lowered herself to the ground with help of the wall until she just plopped on her butt, feeling familiar, sluggish tears coming yet again. She looked around the dead, empty space, wondering again if this was how it was going to end for her, after all the time she spent forcing herself to live long enough to get here in the first place. 
Get rid of the ashes and the bones. Don’t look, just brush away. Space for a fire. 
“O-tavia?” She mumbled, half delirious already again, looking around for the source of the voice that had come back to her in all familiarity. But she was quiet again. And right. She slid on her ass down the ramp until her bare feet- rough and calloused after her journey home- rested on the ash closest to her. How to get rid of it? There weren’t many options- anything that had been a tool in camp was burnt to shit. So left with the option of going inside, wasting more energy, and potentially finding nothing, she just fell to her knees and started scooping it and shoving it away from a spot at random with her bare hands, trying not to think about the fact that it was the dusty remains of human people getting all over her bare limbs. 
She had to stop and rest more than a few times, curling up pathetically in the tiny-but-growing clear (ish) spot in the middle of the ashes to nap for a couple minutes at a time, but eventually she had a small clearing that could fit a little fire right in front of the dropship’s ramp. I did it, she thought to herself, waiting for Octavia to come back. But she didn’t. Maybe the voices in her head only spoke to her when she talked back out loud... “I did it.” She rasped. 
Still nothing. Even the voices in her head didn’t want to talk to her now. She pushed herself back up onto the ramp and forced her feet to take her inside, feeling the unconsciousness coming back, her vision swimming in front of her as she gave up getting to the hammock and instead just fell to the floor and passed out there. 
                                                                  --
Two days- though she’d have no clue- she finally woke again, shivering against the cold alloy of the floor as the chill of night filled the metal ship. She was freezing, and every tremor that shook her body agitating her drill holes. She curled up tighter, feeling the fever sweat on her skin start to turn cold too, adding to the chill. She couldn’t just sit here freezing to death, she needed a blanket, needed to get warm, needed-
Clothes. Harper’s calm but insistent voice made her smile through a shiver. Right. Clothes. She needed to find something to cover her freezing skin. Surely someone had left something hidden in here. She forced herself to sit up- or at least she thought she did. But still she lay on the ground, thinking ‘get up’... but her body wasn’t moving. Shit. This wasn’t the first time her body had refused to obey her, and just as it had in the dumpster, it made the tears come hard. She had to move, she had to get up, she had to force herself up. 
Shh, it’s okay. Calm down. Breathe. Harper’s disembodied voice slowly calmed her, and she obeyed, breathing in deep if not entirely slow breaths. Eventually, the shakes worse than ever, she managed to get to her knees. She didn’t push it, and crawled despite the pain toward the back of the dropship, hoping to find something, anything. She swallowed hard- she needed water, and soon- and smiled at the newest voice to join the rest, strong and concerned and almost desperate. 
The back. Go to the back. She nodded, looking dizzily around for Helo, a hand already outstretched for him to take, to lead her where he was pushing for her to go. But there was no one there, and her hand dropped back to the metal floor with a despondent thud. But still she obeyed- and why not? It wasn’t like she was doing a great job at this, at least the others knew what they were doing. That they were in her head was a detail that didn’t seem important. It was their voices, their advice, it felt almost like her family was here with her, helping her survive. She reached the back of the ship and tucked in the back corner were a couple backpacks. 
The first had nothing she needed right now, rope, a handmade knife, some empty water canteens and a torn up shirt. But the second had a half filled canteen she eagerly drank from, and clothes that made her cry as she pulled them over her bare skin, hugging the Helo-scented, oversized pieces to her body as she laid her head on the backpack and fell asleep once more, visions of Helo and Harper’s smiles flickering like ghosts as her eyes fluttered shut. 
                                                                   --
Two more days that she was almost aware of, and she was finally feeling like a human again. Human enough to venture from the camp, found canteen in hand, and go to the little, somewhat dirty stream that was closer to camp than the lake, and fill her canteen. Human enough to bring the rope and knife from the first pack with her and cut some branches to make the small game traps that had saved her life over the journey back here, back home. She didn’t risk going back to the camp yet, wasting that energy when she’d just have to get back out here, instead she sat by the stream, listening to the water swirl past her, hoping the sounds of the water would drown her out and something would be stupid enough to get caught before the sun went down. 
You’ve got this, Fox. Jasper’s proud voice made her smile up toward the sun. It took a while, but eventually she heard something struggling, and made her way as quickly and quietly as she could to the panicking little bird. “Sorry.” She whispered before killing it and taking it out of the trap, Bellamy’s warm voice back with her once more.
Atta girl. 
Maybe she could live long enough to see her family again after all. 
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lysslxric-blog · 6 years
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throughout her life, alyssa had been continually exposed to both alcohol and drugs just about everywhere she went. it’s no surprise, then, that she started experimenting with them at an early age. the first time she got blackout drunk she had just turned 14 and her first joint was smoked mere months later. so when tavia suggested they get high to come up with tattoo ideas, lyss had been more than happy to participate. the young girl was already semi-drunk, and had taken Xanax mere minutes prior, but she was not shy about mixing drugs. ‘you ready for whatever philosophical bullshit is about to come out of my mouth?’ the young girl asked tavia, wiggling her eyebrows as she passed the other a joint and a lighter.
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@tcvias
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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summer 2019 was good times for the cnco fandom 😩
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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no one:
christopher in music videos, pictures, literally anything:
*point to camera*
*smile and wink*
*stick tongue out*
*clench fist*
*unclench fist at camera*
*point to camera—*
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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cnco as uhhhh the hot ass mess of a group chat
the MESS chile anywayssss minors don't interact 😚
@flamediel ~ richard
top energy
selfie game mad strong
can fight
@mamita-5 ~ richard
mom friend
occasional crackhead tendencies
pretty 🥺
me ~ chris
loud ass laugh
chaos
i wanna steal his dog
@anninhiliation ~ chris
if ann and chris switched bodies for a day she's 100% sending his nudes to her phone good night
no doubt they share a hair pulling kink ijs
@cnc-oh-boi ~ zabdiel
tall™
loves cats
riley go steal appa im begging you
@bombshellbre95 ~ zabdiel
horny™
literally if bre had a penis, she'd be zabdiel
but significantly less of a fuckboy oops
@chrisdiels-babygirl ~ erick
eyes are sO pretty like dear fuck
kinda baby until they snatch my wig when they wake up and choose ATTRACTIVE
@sapdfrvelez ~ erick
if i'm chris she's legally required to be erick i don't make the rules
the pure TOMFOOLERY
also just really cute makes me go 🥺🥺🥺
@jane-ray ~ chris
a little bit of everything?
encourages the chaos, discourages bad decisions
mom friend but with a twist
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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it’s been a long minute since i did one of these buT
RICHARD
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BOY IM ON YOU
“business in the front party in the back baby😉” HEAD ASS. big green tractor achey breakey heart billy ray cyrus HEAD ASS. see i knew i couldn’t trust you with locs because i just knew you’d go and do some SHIT like this. boy why you got a stale cinnabon sitting on the back of your head? top of your head look like a congregation of fire ants. mans really thought he did something with that DOORKNOB bout the back of his neck.
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sir what you have committed is a crime against humanity.
JAIL. NOW.
spaghetti neck head ass. lopsided headass. unfinished wig cap headass
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HEAD ASS.
richard sir i am begging you to cut the rest of it off sir you look like a 60 year old man still holding onto his glory days knowing damn well his hairline is so far back it was friends with moses
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brownblackbeautiful · 2 years
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nothing like some sweet, sweet biphobia to cap off an already long day 🥰❤️
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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titchard
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@flamediel @anninhiliation @chrisdiels-babygirl @sapdfrvelez @bombshellbre95 @jane-ray @mamita-5
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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episode number 85 maybe of me getting blocked
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brownblackbeautiful · 3 years
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and if you look to your left, you’ll see grandaddiel. a legend in the 70s, soul train hero. they used to call him slick cause he was so smooth with the hunnies. still drives his caddy down the boulevard and still wears his white suede shoes, all white suit, and you can’t catch him without his walking stick at the cookouts.
@flamediel @jane-ray @bombshellbre95 i’m not sorry
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