AllFreeNovel
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She’s pretty good.
NLA_boyz
If she keeps it up I might learn how to play Support finally.
Morganazzzz
PangoMango is shaking in his boots.
NoNameXX
Oracle about to steal PangoMango’s Carry.
After the third game ended in a win, Emma started to feel more comfortable. She leaned back into the chair, put her hair up in a ponytail, and even moved the monitor to a more comfortable angle. Her shoulders seemed to have relaxed and she even started trash-talking her enemies.
Her trash talk was sharp, but when she turned it on her own team I lost it.
“Fuck, I can only carry this team so much. My back is starting to hurt.”
She said it with such a straight face I wasn’t sure if she was joking. Of course her teammates didn’t hear her, that would’ve been a disaster.
I found myself cracking up like that multiple times that night, caught off guard by her sharp wit and dry humor. Sometimes chat would call me out if I stared at Emma a bit too long instead of watching the game. Like the guy who started donating ten dollars every time I got distracted and stopped paying attention to her game. But what could I have done! In my defense Emma made the dorkiest faces when she was concentrating on her game. It was super endearing.
Then came the biggest mistake of the night—I urged Emma to turn on her mic so she could communicate with her teammates more easily.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she tried to warn me but I insisted.
That’s when it all went to shit. As she got into her next game,her jackass of a Carry started moaning in the voice chat about playing with a girl Support on his lane and that he was going to lose because of it.
Emma rolled her eyes and mumbled some curses under her breath that I couldn’t quite hear. She didn’t hide her frustration and turned to look at me, mouthing I told you.
I leaned closer to Emma and our shoulders brushed as I spoke into the mic on her headset. “Hey, sorry. I let my girlfriend play while I went to the bathroom. Everything good?”
Emma’s face was all confused as I reached for her mouse and quickly changed the microphone settings so I wouldn’t have to lean into her headset for the rest of the game. Then I started speaking in the voice chat instead of her. I scooted my chair closer and continued communicating with her team instead of her.
The Carry player was teasing me for letting my girlfriend play on my account. I brushed him off and told him she would’ve carried his weak ass anyway and that it was my smurf account so he was lucky to even get to play with me. The absurdity of the situation was almost laughable, but the underlying sexism was anything but.
I kept talking instead of Emma for the duration of the game. It was actually pretty fun, because sometimes I would say things like. “Be careful, I’m going to ward the bush,” and Emma wasn’t expecting to have to do that right at that time, so she scrambled to do what I had said.
Or. “I’m roaming mid, their Mid is overextending,” and Emma would have to teleport to execute the play and then glare at me as she was walking back after the successful gank. It was the most fun I had had in weeks and I genuinely laughed. Not the fake laughs and the polite smiles but actual unfiltered laughter for the first time in a long while.
The chat went crazy during that game, they must have been having a blast too. Someone in chat compared it to a hand-and-brain chess match, and I had to agree that it was a lot like it. I knew not before long that clips of the game would end up on Reddit and Twitter.
I took out my phone and texted my video editor to drop whatever he was editing for me currently and to edit a video of the game Emma was playing on my stream. The game hadn’t even finished yet.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Emma said after the victory screen flashed up on the screen. “It usually doesn’t end well when I play with voice chat on.”
“I totally understand why you would avoid it now. This is even worse than what I get when I’m playing on my main account. Your griefers don’t just grief, but they also insult you. That’s fucking awful.”
“I’m used to it. If you want to play you have to get used to it,” she said and I saw her mouse move to the X on the screen to close the match scoreboard.
I scrambled to speak up. “Don’t forget to report that guy before you close it. He deserves Low Priority Queue for a few games for speaking to you like that.”
She paused, then reported him before closing the screen. It was a bitter pill to swallow, how toxic the NLA was to her and to all women.
“Do you know how many times I’ve been in the Low Priority Queue because of others reporting me for being a woman?” She asked.
I shook my head. “No? How many?”
