#i'm hyper competitive
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iamunabletothinkofablogname · 5 months ago
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last post of today/tonight, i'm going to try my best and force myself not to hurt myself or try to end my self at least until 27th of november [birthday]
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nururu · 1 year ago
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the amount of times I've been (rudely) made fun of for using 3in1 makes me so mad every time I think about it.... bc like........ predatory capitalism will get you around every corner. I can't just be myself and be happy about it. tv, books, ads, family, friends, etc. everywhere you go. everyone's been brainwashed into thinking buying stuff and doing what rich ppl say makes you better. like idk I'm sorry but I TRULY do not care about materialism or looks. attractiveness to me, comes from confidence and a kind personality. it has nothing to do with how anyone looks, or what they buy and have. doing stuff to make YOURSELF happy is amazing. doing stuff to make a point to others that you're better than them.... idk man... seems like a waste of time trying to fill a pot that has a leak and could fully break at any time.
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blue-jester · 6 months ago
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"can you get far in competitive pokemon with your FAVORITE pokemon?"
Me, who's favorite pokemon is Incinroar,
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mushangaa · 9 months ago
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Me: *fucks around* Imma draw for five hours straight. *forgets the compression gloves*
My Hands: *find out* Congrats we are now stiff and have fallen asleep. Ready for those needles and pins fam?
Yehhhh so anyway I think I should be a sensible person and take a break maybe.
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heirofnight · 2 months ago
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it's the shadows
pairing: azriel x reader (heavily), cassian x reader, rhysand x reader
word count: 1.2k (i intended for this to be a drabble but i can't ever shut the hell up)
summary: reader is close friends with az, cass, and rhys, but is very obviously pining for azriel. the four of you are drunk and cassian just has to know which one of them would be the best in bed. sexual tension ensues. duh.
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while this entire debate was absolutely ridiculous - one may argue even downright childish - you couldn't stop the grin that was spreading across your cheeks.
you couldn't remember the last time you'd laughed this hard. your stomach was aching, cheeks sore. dried tears were collecting at the corners of your eyes. there'd be a lull in the conversation, a period of time that allowed all of you to calm down and collect yourselves, before you'd inevitably meet one of their mischievous gazes and fits of laughter would begin all over again.
"seriously, y/n?," cassian inquired, voice booming. you snorted at his dumbfounded expression, at the fact that the four of you had finally calmed down, just for cass to loop back to the topic that had you all howling in laughter in the first place.
"azriel?," he continued, pointer finger gesturing towards the male sitting opposite from you in the sitting room. cassian had a half-full wine glass in his large hand, the liquid sloshing around precariously as he motioned in the shadowsinger's direction. "the motherfucker doesn't even speak!," he finished, causing you to erupt in another alcohol-induced fit of giggles.
azriel smiled warmly at the sight, shaking his head in mock exasperation at his brother's disbelief. az took a sip from the glass of wine he'd been nursing at a much slower pace compared to the rest of you.
rhys chuckled now, sitting alongside cassian on the plush sofa. he shoved the war general on his broad shoulder playfully, gesturing towards azriel himself, "he doesn't need to speak in this particular scenario, brother," he purred, his own wine sloshing within his grip.
azriel's cheeks tinted red at the implication, shifting his gaze down to his lap to hide a dimpled smirk.
"and see, that's what i'm saying," you added, throwing your hands up in agreement. you sat on the floor, upon the cushioned carpet that spread throughout the sitting room. you glanced up at azriel, a fond smile playing across your lips as you met his bashful gaze.
"he doesn't need to use words, cassian. i stand by my original statement: azriel is absolutely the most capable male in bed out of the three of you," you couldn't even finish the sentence without giggling, awestruck at cassian's ability to always turn the conversation back to this topic in particular.
you'd been close to all three of them for so long, and cassian - with his overly-competitive nature - just had to know, from a female's perspective, which male you thought would be the best in the bedroom. even though your answer was always the same: azriel.
was it because you may have been harboring feelings for the aforementioned male? perhaps. however, you didn't need to be pining after him to come to that conclusion; it felt like the obvious choice, regardless.
azriel glanced over at you with silent pride flooding his gaze, and you winked at him playfully in response. "i've got your back, az," you slurred, alcohol heavy in your veins. you reached over to poke him in the kneecap gently, and he huffed out a laugh.
"thank you, sweet," he spoke, tone gravelly, and you felt your chest grow fuzzy at the nickname he reserved just for you.
"oh, come ON," cassian scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. rhys barked out a laugh, tossing his head back against the headrest of the quilted couch.
you laughed along with rhys, sitting closer to azriel's legs now. az reached down, smoothing a section of your hair that had grown disheveled during your laughing fits throughout the evening. you were hyper-aware of his touch, and currants of electricity shot down your spine as the contact mixed with the wine in your system.
"i'm going to go out on a limb here," cassian started, pausing to take a sip from his glass. you rolled your eyes, bracing yourself for the familiar statement preparing to spill from his lips. "and i'm going to say that your opinion on this particular topic is heavily biased," he finished, knowing hazel eyes glancing from you, up to azriel, and back down to you.
you groaned in mock annoyance, flipping your hand in a dismissive gesture.
"yeah, yeah, cass, i know," you huffed out a breath, narrowing your eyes, "you're so convinced that i want to be in azriel's bed," you finished, pausing for dramatic effect before speaking further. cassian scoffed, his eyes widening slightly as if to say duh.
the alcohol was making you feel bolder than normal, and honestly, it's not like you were completely shy about your attraction towards azriel. it was a commonly known fact, one that all of you tended to play into from time to time - an inside joke, a bit.
however, while the attraction was known, you'd never confessed to any of them your very real feelings for azriel. that aspect wasn't a joke to you in the slightest.
"it's the shadows," you deadpanned, shrugging your shoulders sloppily.
cassian and rhys paused for a moment, absorbing your statement. then, they both erupted into howling laughter, and you weren't far behind them. you heard azriel's low chuckle from where he sat behind you, and he sent one of those mentioned shadows from within his twining orbit to twirl through your hair playfully.
cassian collected himself, shaking his head as he wiped his eyes.
"what kind of shit are you into, y/n?," cass wheezed out, and rhys laughed harder at his follow-up question.
you sniffled, wiping your own eyes before responding, "i mean, you really cannot blame me," you mused, gesturing towards azriel once more, "have you really not stopped to consider this at all?," you widened your eyes, stunned.
as if to prove a point, you turned your head towards azriel, locking your curious eyes with his amused ones.
"azriel, have you or have you not used your shadows on someone during sex?," you asked, extremely forward.
he almost choked at the question, cheeks turning crimson. cassian and rhys resumed their howling, but you peered at him expectantly.
he couldn't deny you an answer, not when you looked at him like that - innocent-looking wide eyes, cheeks pink from the wine. and was there a large, screaming part of him that wanted to entice you with his bedroom habits?
perhaps.
he nodded once, a dimpled smirk appearing across his pink cheeks.
"i have," he spoke, deep voice cutting through the laughter.
everyone paused at his words - you'd all half-expected him to evade the question altogether. but here he was, divulging life-altering, world-ending information that had your brain short-circuiting in one fatal blow.
the silence was deafeningly loud, and your expression shifted in a way that had azriel knowing exactly what you were thinking. your eyes had widened and glossed over, your mouth was agape. his smirk grew, forming into something more playful.
and to prove his point, he sent one more shadow your way to lightly twirl through your fingers and caress up your arm, looping around your neck gently.
cass sent a low whistle into the dead silence of the room, croaking out a laugh. "well, fuck, az," he chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.
"you win," cassian added, awestruck - shaking his head in defeat.
you didn't even hear what was happening around you, too focused on azriel - his darkened gaze as he peered down at you, and the feeling of that tendril of shadow tightening around your throat in silent challenge.
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a/n: i'm so sorry. i'm spamming u with all of these ideas but hear me out, i have to get them out immediately. pls don't hate me. but this one had me sweating lmfao. sucker for sexual tension as always!!!
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ordinaryschmuck · 7 months ago
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Here's another Game Changer pitch that I came up with. Simply put, the name of the game would be "Just have fun."
It'll feature Brennan and two other chill players (I'm thinking Zac or Ally) and Sam would hand them random toys and games to play with. The player who has the most fun wins a point for that round...but they won't know that going in. Sam will just give them the toy and game and leave it up to interpretation of what won them that point. And Brennan, the hyper-competitive person that he is, will likely over-analyze every round, trying and failing to figure out what the goal is. "Is it to be the best? Is it another fucked up game where you have to lose? No, that can't be, because Zac was in the lead last time. Then what IS it?"
Meanwhile the other chill players are effortlessly winning by just having a good time. It'd also be an extra twist to the knife if he actually wins a few points accidentally because he let himself have fun for a minute and overthinks what he did differently in that round and trying too hard to replicate the same outcome while Zac and Ally, at this point, likely figured it out or don't care enough because they're both just having a good time.
And it'd be REALLY fucked up if Sam begins each round by "sarcastically" going "Have fun."
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seoulzie · 4 months ago
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beyond the books
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WHEREIN: two top students, initially just classmates turn out to be ridiculously in love with each other
彡 pairing: student!soobin x gn!reader 彡 genre: fluff 彡 warnings: none :)
⋆.˚𓆝 read the whole collection here!
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you and soobin started as casual classmates, just two top students sharing a competitive camaraderie. it wasn't unusual for the two of you to exchange notes, help each other with tricky problems, or simply greet each other in the hallways. however, as time went on, those simple interactions began to evolve.
you found yourself catching his lingering glances during class, and your brief conversations started to stretch into long, meaningful talks. despite the increase in time spent together, you both managed to keep things relatively platonic—or so you thought.
one day, as you were packing up your books after a particularly challenging lecture, soobin approached you with a nervous smile.
"hey, y/n," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "i was thinking... do you want to maybe go to that new café near campus? we could have a study session there."
surprised, you looked up at him. "the one with the ryan pastries?"
"yeah, that's the one!" soobin's eyes lit up, his excitement palpable. "i heard they have a really nice atmosphere for studying."
you agreed, not thinking much of it beyond the usual academic assistance. "sure, sounds good. when are you thinking?"
"how about tomorrow after classes?" he suggested, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and nervousness.
"perfect," you replied with a smile. "i'll see you there."
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the next day, you found yourself seated across from soobin in the cozy café, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods surrounding you. the atmosphere was comfortable, filled with the quiet rustle of papers and the occasional soft laugh and accidental touches as you reached for your drinks or passed each other notes.
"so, how's your preparation for the finals going?" soobin asked, taking a sip of his iced latte.
"it's going alright," you replied, twirling your pen between your fingers. "i still need to review the last few chapters. what about you?"
"same here," soobin admitted with a sheepish grin. "i was hoping we could go over them together."
as you both dived into your notes, you couldn't help but notice how close soobin was sitting next to you. how his arm brushed against yours, sending tiny sparks of electricity up your skin. the casual touches felt oddly intimate, and you found yourself hyper-aware of his presence.
"do you understand this part?" you asked, pointing to a particularly complex equation.
soobin leaned in closer, his shoulder pressing against yours as he studied the page. "yeah, i think so. here, let me show you."
his voice was soft and reassuring, and you felt a warmth spread through you as he explained the problem. his proximity made it hard to concentrate, but you tried your best to focus on the task at hand.
after a while, you both took a break, sipping your drinks and enjoying the comfortable silence. you looked around the café, noticing the cozy ambiance and the other students engrossed in their own studies.
"soobin, this place is really nice," you said, glancing back at him. "thanks for suggesting it."
he smiled, a hint of shyness in his expression. "i'm glad you like it. i thought it would be a good change of pace."
these "study sessions" soon became a regular thing, and it wasn't long before your friends started to notice how close you'd become. they teased you relentlessly, often saying things like, "just get together already!" whenever someone pointed out how obvious it was that you liked soobin, you'd get defensive, your face flushing.
"what! no! i'm not!" you'd protest, crossing your arms defensively.
but your friends would only exchange knowing looks, amused by your denial. "sure, sure," they'd say teasingly, nudging each other knowingly whenever you and soobin were nearby.
it was the same for soobin. he'd turn red and stutter through his denials, just as clueless as you were about the true nature of his feelings.
despite the teasing, neither you nor soobin seemed to acknowledge the growing attraction between you. you continued to meet for "study sessions" at the café, your conversations becoming more animated and your touches more deliberate.
one day, during one of these study sessions, as you and soobin laughed over a particularly silly mistake in your notes, you caught your friends watching you with amused smiles. 
soon, your friends joined your table with knowing grins, settling in as if they had been waiting for this moment.
"so, what's going on here?" one of your friends teased, nudging you playfully.
"just going over material," you replied casually, though your heart raced with anticipation.
"soobin, you're looking awfully cozy with y/n today," another friend chimed in with a grin.
soobin chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "we're just studying... you know how it is."
your friends exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the spectacle. despite your protests, they could see what was happening between you and soobin, even if you couldn't admit it to yourselves yet.
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during one of your regular café meet-ups, you found yourself pondering your relationship with soobin. the way he made you feel, the way your heart fluttered at his shy smile—it was undeniable. you decided it was time to get to the bottom of things.
"soobin," you began, breaking the comfortable silence. "do you like me?"
his eyes widened, and a deep blush spread across his cheeks. "w-what? i mean... why do you ask?"
you smiled, feeling your own cheeks heat up. "it's okay," you reassured him gently, then turned your attention back to your notes. "i like you too."
the café seemed to fall into complete silence, the world outside disappearing as soobin processed your words. you continued to review your notes, acting as if you hadn't just dropped a bombshell. soobin, on the other hand, was frozen in place, his mind racing.
finally, he broke the silence with a tentative, "so... are we dating now?"
you looked up from your notes, meeting his bewildered gaze with a warm smile. "yep."
"oh," he said, still looking flustered. there was a moment of silence before he asked, "uhm... what now?"
you laughed, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. "i guess we can hold hands tighter now."
soobin's lips curled into a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "sounds like a plan."
from that day forward, your study sessions were filled with more than just academic discussions. you held hands openly, your friends' teasing turning into congratulatory remarks. the lingering glances turned into affectionate looks, and the long talks were now interspersed with shy kisses and sweet moments.
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one sunny afternoon, you and soobin were sitting under the large oak tree in the school courtyard, sharing a quiet lunch. he reached over, brushing a stray hair from your face and giving you that warm, adoring smile that always made your heart flutter. "you have something on your lip," he said softly, leaning in to gently wipe away a crumb from your sandwich.
your friends, seated a few feet away, erupted into a chorus of "awww" and playful jabs about how cute you two were. you laughed it off, leaning into soobin's shoulder. "i think they're just jealous," you whispered, causing soobin to chuckle.
"probably," he replied, his arm wrapping around you protectively.
walking hand-in-hand to class, you felt the world around you fade away. soobin had this way of making everything seem brighter, more beautiful. the hallways, once crowded and chaotic, felt like a serene pathway whenever you were with him.
during study sessions in the library, the two of you would sit close, heads bent over textbooks, occasionally sharing quiet conversations and laughter. one time, soobin had drawn a little heart on your notebook when you weren't looking. it was a small gesture, but it filled you with such joy that you couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
your relationship wasn't just about the grand gestures, but the little moments that made up your everyday lives. the way he would wait for you outside your classroom, the way you would share your favorite songs, and the way he would always know when you needed a comforting hug.
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⋆˚࿔ taglist!  @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman ࿔˚⋆
© 2024 seoulzie
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inchidentally · 5 months ago
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admits he hides his eyes during scary movies and that 'there might be some screams'
'I'm a big baby about cold water'
I cannot find it now but he said the drivers room was somewhere you could cry if need be
sings to himself during races to stay calm
bases his entire music taste around femininity one way or another: first with Lily (house music) and then Lando (Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, general power girl pop)
favorite show for a while was Sex Education
'my hands are too small!' I just love that he doesn't buy into idiotic male insecurities
he's competitive over competition's sake but not competitive with other men for show or for appearances
despite prolific twitter usage, not a single instance found of even mild or unconscious sexism
totally unapologetically proved he knows what 'bottoming' is in a non-F1 sense not just once but twice
along w Lando, casual and consistent usage of neutral pronouns when not discussing specific partners/people
best interviews are always with Laura Winter
zero chemistry or connection with D*x Sh*pard
does not view his girlfriend as a possession or status accessory to his life
doesn't pose with Lily with his hand on her ass (I might actually say he's the only pro male athlete I know of who's never done this w their partner)
happily a pushover for Lando off the track bc Lando has hyper specific wants/needs where Oscar is super flexible so why not customize things more toward Lando?
despite natural competitiveness and single-minded desire to win that all drivers have, can shake off any disappointments from team orders or Lando getting a podium and not him and be genuinely happy/proud of Lando bc he respects Lando and also why stew on things he can't change?
no idea if he's even aware of this but where he decidedly will not do creepy pseudo "gentlesir" shit with Lily (ie treating her as helpless or in need of his aid to exist in the world) his natural desire for acts of service finds an outlet in doing things for Lando and anticipating Lando's needs (bc no history of social creepiness associated with men doing that for other men)
doesn't care that other people find his long nails weird, he likes having them and cuts them only when they get too long
idk I don't have a heading for all this I just feel like it all ties into things that make Oscar so lovable
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xiao-come-home · 6 months ago
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boothill's censor has made me hyper aware of how much i swear in my daily life. i'm worse than him honestly - 💫
I too swear every second word 😭
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Alright, alright - Boothill can admit whenever someone's truly better than him at something, and in this case, he surrenders the win to you, when it comes to swearing.
When you're around Boothill for more than 10 minutes, you know he likes to swear - he always has, except for the time he was around his younger siblings, but other than that, no one could possibly shut up his potty mouth.
Now, he can't really swear anymore (or at least, until he fixes his synesthesia beacon), but counts how many times you swear per day and then (jokingly) confronts you, only to get the same treatment back and surprisingly answering, "ain't no fudging way! You swear way more than me!"
He does find it adorable at times when you swear so much, especially when something takes you off guard, and sometimes holds cussing competitions with you - which is more about you saying a swear word, and seeing how many new words his synesthesia beacon will come up with instead of the actual swear word.
The thing that might finally get him to visit a mechanic is the fact that he just really wants to dirty talk to you, sigh.
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undertheorangetree · 1 year ago
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Competition
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Summary- Aemond is a big fan of healthy competition.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Modern AU. Mutual edging. Handjob. Fingering. Blowjob. Surprisingly fluffy?? Straight up porn.
Author's Note- I wrote this instead of studying for my midterm lmao. This was a request and therefore a tumblr special so I'm posting the full story here below the cut :)
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Usually, she finds the competitive nature of her relationship funny.
Aemond has always been competitive. Whether it was a board game amongst friends or trivia night at the pub or something as simple as an arm wrestle, he loved to win. Most of the time, she found the trait endearing and knew it was a habit she shared, especially when he was there to egg her on.
But it is at times like this she thinks perhaps his need for competition has gotten out of hand. Laying naked on their shared bed, Aemond on his knees beside her with his hand between her legs, two fingers pumping in and out of her ceaselessly. Her hand is wrapped around his cock, doing her best to match his pace even while the pleasure his hand is wringing from her licks up her spine, leaving her dizzy and half boneless. He had gotten it into his head that even this had to be a competition, that whoever forced the other to beg to come first would be declared the winner. She doesn't even remember what they're playing for, not now, but she does know that losing is not an option.
Already, they’ve denied each other twice, pulling the other away in their attempt to win. Despite the desperation that is sitting heavy in her gut, her cunt already hyper sensitive and the feeling only getting worse, she can’t make herself look away from Aemond’s face. His eyes are half lidded, the pupil in his real eye blown wide and turning the blue near black, chest heaving with every breath. His hips buck into her hand weakly, matching her strokes as if he wants nothing more than to let the bliss of it pull him under, his need to win the only thing holding him back. She’ll never get tired of that look, the way his features have gone soft and pliant as pleasure runs through him. She wants to immortalize it, stamp it in her mind’s eye and look at it forever.
She knows she looks just as desperate as he does, legs shaking as she feels her orgasm racing toward her. He keeps a steady pace, the sound of her cunt all but echoing through the room while his thumb circles her clit. It’s almost insulting, how well he is working her up even while she does the same to him. She had half hoped that the pleasure running through him would be some kind of distraction but he seems laser focused, staring between her legs as if he never wants to look away. And she's so close. She can feel it right there, knows that if he keeps going she'll fall over the edge, but just as her orgasm is about to run over her, she knocks his hand away. A desperate whine leaves her, hips bucking up to chase his hand despite having been the one to push it away, and she hears him let out a low groan, his wet fingers closing around her knee.
"Fuck, look at you." His other hand comes up to brush across her tits as if he can't stand the thought of not touching her, catching her nipple between his fingers. She jerks, knowing that was more calculated than it was loving, and slaps his hand away irritably. It doesn’t deter him. "You can give up any time you want, baby, just say the word."
Though she's breathless, frustration and disappointment churning in her gut, she knows he hears the petulance in her voice when she says, "Same goes for you, baby."
He grins, hand falling back between her legs again to play with her clit. There's a smugness there she doesn't like, as if he's sure that she will be the one to beg first, and she decides to wipe the arrogance from his face. Turning slightly, she shuffles a little closer, licking the weeping tip of his cock and before sucking the head into her mouth, fist still pumping at the base. She looks up at him with big doe eyes, trying to look as innocent as she can with his cock in her mouth, and very nearly grins at what she sees.
The effect it has on him is almost immediate. His stomach tenses, mouth dropping open and hand going momentarily still as he watches her, black swallowing the blue of his eye whole. She takes full advantage of his distraction, taking him into her mouth a little deeper and hollowing her cheeks. She knows him, knows every mannerism he has just before he falls apart, and she knows from the look on his face and the way he starts thrusting helplessly into her mouth that he's half a second away from finishing.
Unfortunately, he notices it too and she feels his hand in her hair, tugging her gently off his cock with a frustrated groan. A thin cord of spit connects her to him and he lets out an almost pitiful moan at the sight of it, bringing a grin to her face.
He almost sounds as though he's whining as he says, "You're cheating. Don't cheat."
She tilts her head as she takes him back in hand, reveling in the whimper he lets out. "Why? 'Cause you're gonna come?"
"Because I can't put my mouth on you. S'not fair."
She feels her grin broaden. "And we both know how much you like putting your mouth on me."
He very nearly growls at that before all but tackling her to the bed, forcing her onto her back once more. He kisses her hard, almost punishingly, and she moans into his mouth, both hands coming up to capture his face in her hands. She’s happy for the reprieve, the want burning between her legs too distracting, and takes her time kissing him, in feeling his lips pressing against her own.
"You're such a brat," he mutters against her mouth and she laughs, nipping at his bottom lip to further prove his point. His hand falls to spank her lightly in retaliation, making her jolt again before her own hand drops to find revenge in another way.
It takes him less than a second to follow suit, his fingers running through her to collect the arousal that’s gathered there before pushing a finger back inside her, crooking it up immediately to rub against the spot he knows makes her squirm. They’re both on their sides now and she slings her leg over his hip in an attempt to get more comfortable, still kissing him in the hopes that it will be enough to distract her from falling apart. It does little to help, the pleasure rolling to a boiling point in her belly. In any other circumstance, she would be grateful knowing that her boyfriend knew exactly how to touch her, how to work her up so perfectly, but now she knows that it will be her downfall unless she takes matters into her own hands.
Her mouth drops open, a moan escaping her when he begins circling her clit again, fast enough that her whole body shudders. Knowing now that she is sure to lose should he keep that up, she speeds up her hand in an attempt to bring him over the edge before her. She runs her thumb along the head of his cock, stroking at him faster, and fights the urge to giggle when he pulls away to moan, his head dropping to rest against her shoulder. His lips drag along the skin there, leaving lightning bolts of want in his wake, and her free hand comes up to twist in his hair, lifting herself up slightly.
“Please let me make you come,” she breathes near his ear, biting her lip when he moans faintly in response to it. “You look so pretty when you do. Just want to make you feel good, baby, please.”
She grinds down into his hand subconsciously, rolling her hips in her desperate need for more, and revels in the groan he lets out. She can feel herself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her, but she refuses to succumb to her want now. Once she wins, she will gladly keep him in this bed all night and let him do whatever he wants to her. But before then, she wants to watch him fall apart.
“C’mon. Be a good boy for me.”
That does it. He lets out another whiney sound, this one half a moan, as his brows knit together, bucking his hips up into her hand. She strokes at him quickly, once, twice, until he spills himself over her fist with another moan, thrusts stuttering as he finishes.
Though his hand stalled while he came, he picks up where he left off the moment he has recovered, not giving her any time to mourn the loss of her fading orgasm. His fingers comes back up to her clit, circling it as hard and fast as she can handle and pulling a yelp from her. His free hand falls to the leg that still rests across his hip, holding her in place as he rubs at her faster and faster, that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach snapping almost as quickly as it begins to form. She writhes beside him as her orgasm washes over her, a whine leaving her as her head tips back, giving him enough room to press a litany of open mouthed kisses across her throat.
All at once, the room falls silent, the faint droning of the TV in the next room still humming on where they left it. They’re both panting and Aemond turns onto his back, his hand keeping her leg splayed across his lap while he does it, a faint stretch burning in her thigh.
"I win," she announces breathlessly, wiping her hand clean of him before flopping onto her side, cheek pressing tight against his chest.
He vibrates under her face with a huffed laugh, his hand comes up to stroke at her hair mindlessly. "I think you already got your prize."
She turns her head up to meet his eye. "And if I want another one?"
He turns down to kiss her again. This time, it’s much gentler, all the desperation that had filled the air between them simmering down to nearly nothing. A part of her thinks that he may be content to simply lay here with her in their disheveled bed but then he reaches for her ass again, using his grip there to tug her to lay flat on top of him. His cock is already half hard between them and she feels the side of her mouth quirk up at the realization that he is, in fact, not quite done yet.
“That can be arranged.”
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malifiquemakes · 8 months ago
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Obkk makes a lot of sense when you realise they're both self sacrificing idiots And hyper competitive.
Oh so you'll shoulder the pain of the world to give everyone the peace you can never attain? And then die in my place? Well I'm gonna take on a title I never wanted and usher in a period of unprecedented peace and prosperity because that was your dream. Get wrecked asshole.
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trippinsorrows · 5 months ago
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with me + part fourteen
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authors note: this one is loaded, and there are some hints/tidbits spread throughout, but also.....please don't hate me. 😭
status: in progress // masterlist
warnings: fluff, language, suggestive themes, angst
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
faceclaims
words: 12k
taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns
Bianca: Hi. I know you asked for space, and I will respect that. I just want you to know I talked to dad. I made him be honest with me, and I know the truth now.  I completely understand if your decision is that you want nothing to do with me. But please know, I had no idea, and I would love the chance to be in your life. I am not our father.
Bianca: It may have started with him, but it can end with us.
Rereading the text for what must be the 18th time, you feel just as conflicted and confused as you were when you first received it a few days prior. It’s been a bit easy to ignore it, to let it sit unanswered as you focused on getting as much work done as you could before leaving for Vegas. 
Thankfully, as the game is on a Sunday, you, Callie, and Alexis got an early morning flight to Vegas where you were met by Joe at the airport. After Callie had her sweet meltdown at seeing Joe again, the three of ya’ll met up with the twins, Trin, Kaylah, Jon’s wife, and the rest of the kids at the hotel.
You were a little nervous about Callie meeting her other cousins, as you know kids don’t always get along right away. But all anxiety is melted away the minute Callie and Jon’s daughter, Ellie, bonded over a common love of Disney. It’s a wrap from there, so much so that Callie feels comfortable enough to be left with them while you and Joe leave to get your tattoos.
Your current location. 
“Let's play a game.”
Joe’s suggestion is greatly appreciated because it pulls you away from hyper-fixating on this text and just what to do with said text. However, it’s also questioned because what the hell kind of games do people play at ya’ll’s big ages?
“Joe, we are too damn old for games—but what is it?”
He laughs at your quick change of tune. He must know that inner competitiveness never really goes away, even if you haven’t been in that competition space in literal years. “I'm gonna show you a house, and all you have to say is either you like it or not. But, you can't ask any questions.”
“A house? Like an actual house?”
“Yes, baby. An actual house.”
His sarcastic tone doesn’t help. Asshole. “And I can’t ask you any questions about a literal house we’re thinking of buying?”
“Yup.” 
Pouting, you murmur, “This game sucks.”
“Okay, Callie.” He messes around on his phone, giving a couple touches before he hands you his phone.
You nearly drop the damn thing, mouth ajar in awe. “Joe, how much—”
“No questions, remember?”
Sucking your teeth, you continue to scroll, each photo evoking another level of wonder. The house is stunning and huge. A literal mansion with landscape and design that looks like it was ripped right out of a luxury HGTV special. Swiping through the photos, each allow you to see that the beauty is not only matched but in many ways exceeded on the inside. A massive kitchen with two ovens, spacious bedrooms, almost equally large bathrooms, movie theater room, a separate building in the humongous backyard that you could easily see Joe turning into a personal gym, and so much more.
You really focus on the outside photos, eyes softening. “She's always wanted a backyard….” It's so easy for you to imagine Callie running around freely, swinging on a swing, maybe even helping you tend to a garden you see more than enough room to plant.
You can see yourself in this house.
“I like it,” you finally answer. There's no need to lie to him, and you're pretty sure he could tell you love it based on your facial expressions alone. “Now can you tell me how much—”
“Nope.”
Sitting up, you shove on his shoulder. “Come on, that's not fair.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Leati.” You can't remember the last time you called this man by his first name. Years, most likely. You used it sparingly, far and few in between, mostly reserved for moments like this when he was pissing you off. 
“You can complain all you want. I'm not telling you shit.” That only irks you more, and he’s indifferent to your obvious irritation, which pisses you off even more. If anything, he sounds almost amused at your frustration. “I'm gonna ask the realtor to arrange a tour. You can ask her then.”
Suspicious, you accuse, “your ass will probably tell her not to tell me or to lie.”
“Maybe.” 
It’s the fact that you know that’s something he would do too. “So my name wouldn’t be on the house? Is that what you’re saying?”
At that, he looks your way, clearly confused but mostly offended. “Of course, it would. Your name will be on everything. I just can’t give you too much information now because you’ll push back and say it’s too much.”
“So, it is expensive,” you conclude. He sighs, heavily. “Joe, we don’t need anything too extravagant or over the top. You know I’m not materialistic like that. I don’t want you feeling like you have to—”
“How many times do we have to have this conversation?” There’s a hint of irritation in his tone, but it’s not entirely unwarranted. Joe has told and showed you multiple times that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you and Callie. It’s just you being…..well, you. “Anything I do for you, anything I do for Callie is because I want to. You should know by now that I’m a man who won’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”
Sitting on his words, you answer, “I know.” And you do, you’re just so damn slow in actually accepting this. “I’m sorry, I just—I’m stubborn. You know this.”
“Yeah, well get un-stubborn.” His hand on your thigh gives a teasing squeeze but before you can inquire about just what kind of alone time you two will have over this weekend, a man walks out, heavily tatted, dressed in semi traditional Samoan attire and wearing a friendly smile.
Joe stands up to greet the man, introducing him as Mike. It’s a name you’re familiar with as you recall eons ago when Joe would rave about his tattoo artist and the man’s insane talent. 
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” It’s both strange and welcomed hearing Joe introduce you as such, like it’s almost too good to be true, even if there’s not an ounce of reluctance in his voice.
“Nice to meet you,” you greet, accepting his handshake. “And for getting us in on short notice.”
He waves it off. “Joe’s always welcomed here anytime and as his girlfriend, so are you.”
It stands out to you just how many people speak so highly of Joe. You've always thought he was a genuinely nice guy, but hearing it co-signed by others definitely shows what a gem you’ve got. “Great design choice, by the way,” he compliments, directing his next question toward you. “Joe mentioned you were a bit nervous about the placement….”
“I think I’m good now,” you answer. Tattoo pain is temporary, but placement is forever. You especially don’t want to “settle” for something that has so much meaning. “Same placement as his, but he can go first.”
Mike laughs, clapping his hands together. “Sounds great. Let’s get started.” 
________
You’d completely forgotten how extremely frustrating it is to get ready to go clubbing, and understandably so given at your big age, that’s not really a thing. However, Alexis absolutely refused to accept your decline to go out with her and even convinced Trinity and Kaylah to tag along. 
The bitch even took it upon herself to bring an outfit for you, knowing you definitely didn’t pack for this kind of outing. 
And while the dress is definitely fire, it’s a pain to get on given the cutouts and need to clasp the chest part. Not to mention, your arm is still a bit sore from the tattoo. Granted, Callie’s excitement at seeing how both you and Joe got her name tatted on you was more than worth all the pain. 
This dress though….it’s not worth shit.
“Fuck.” This was so much easier two bra sizes ago, but between trying to hold them together and clasp the hook on the dress, you’re just about ready to call it a night before the night can even truly begin. Settling frustration aside, you grab the robe off the counter and slide it on as you stick your head out the door. “Babe?”
His deep voice replies seconds later. “Yeah?” 
“Can you come help me with something real quick?”
“Mommy,” Callie groans, and you can only imagine the scowl on her face. She loves spending time with her daddy. “We’re playing.”
Your lips curve into a smile, assuring her, “it’ll only take a second, baby.” 
Joe walks into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. “What’s up?”
“I need you to clasp my dress for me,” you explain, removing the robe and holding your breast with your forearm. “I’m gonna hold them up, and I just need you to—what?”
His eyes slowly travel up and down your body, but his overall gaze reeks of confusion and a level of disapproval. “Where’s the rest of it?”
You’re not stupid, very much aware of what he’s asking. But, you’re also stubborn, a fact he’s well aware of given the fact that you talked about just that this morning. “The rest of what?”
His answer is simple. “Your outfit.”
Muscle twitching in your jaw, you attempt to divert the conversation. “Come on, everyone else is almost ready—“
“I’m serious.” 
Huffing, you slap on that sweet, teacher voice and bring your hands to his chest, allowing your breast to fall open and freely. It doesn’t miss you how his gaze moves downward and lingers. “Joe, I love you, but you met me post-college. Trust me, this is tame compared to what I used to wear clubbing. And we both know I’m gonna wear what I want, regardless, so I just need you to swallow that annoying ass male pride, which I know you will, because you love me enough to do so, and just strap my titties down for me, okay?” Leaning up to kiss his cheek, your finger moves in a figure eight down his body. “Besides, when I get back tonight, you get to rip this same dress off me, bend me over this very same counter right next to us, and make me watch as you fuck me, hard, from behind.”
Your sex drive has always been on the higher end, but it’s been even more intense in the past couple days, and while your last few intimate encounters with Joe have been more loving and sweet…..that’s not what you need right now. 
You need this man to fuck you in the way only he can. Choking, spanking, biting, a tad bit of degrading, hips bruised from how tight he holds you with backshots that have you speaking in a different language. The whole nine yards. 
Your words paint such a vivid picture that’s clearly too far out for his comfort as his hands move to your ass, squeezing roughly. “And what’s stopping me from doing just that right now?”
God has a cruel sense of humor because before you can even fix your mouth to respond, the very reason why makes her presence known. She knocks on the door with all the irritation in her little body. “Daddy, are you almost done?”
Eyes twinkling with mischief as you step back to hold your breast together, you remind him. “that is why not. You’re on daddy duty tonight.” Joe doesn’t say anything and instead finally hooks it for you. “Thank you.”
“At least pull it down in the back or something,” he grumbles and actually tries to pull down the back of the dress.
“Baby, I have an ass. It’s gon’ shift right back up as soon as I move.” Sure enough, one step is all it takes for it to roll up just a few centimeters below your ass. Unlocking and opening the door, you beam at Callie. “He’s all yours, baby girl.”
“You look so pretty, mommy!”
“Thank you, baby.” You lean down for a kiss on her cheek right as Alexis walks in. Callie goes to lead Joe back into the “living room” area as Alexis welcomes herself into the hotel room. You’re not even gonna bother asking how she got a key. Her dress, unlike your all black little piece, is sparkly, short, and strapless. It’s very much Alexis.
She gasps. “Girl, that dress is fitting and your boobs are sitting.” 
Winking and lifting your breasts, you laugh, complementing, “you look amazing.”
“Duh. I’m me.” She brushes her shoulders before peeping past you to say hi to Joe and Callie. “Hi, future brother-in-law and part time child.”
All you can hear is Callie asking Joe what a part time child is as Alexis grabs you by your wrist and starts dragging you toward the door. “Come on, Trin wants us to do a TikTok before we leave.”
Instantly, you’re scowling. “A TikTok? Girl, we are too old for that.”
“I swear, you act like you’re 75 sometimes,” she dismisses, walking you out the room and across the hall to the other room where Jimmy and Trin are staying. You’re still impressed how they all managed to get rooms not only on the same floor but literally all across each other.
Must be a rich people thing.
Walking into the room, you see Trin and Kaylah are dressed a bit more modestly then you and Alexis, not as much skin showing but still very much giving club vibes. 
Compliments are again exchanged among the four of you, but Kaylah is the first to say, “girl, I’m surprised Joe didn’t have nothing to say about your outfit.”
Chuckling, you inform, “he tried, but he knows I don’t play that. I’m a grown woman. Imma wear what I want. Besides, I know how to shut him up.” 
What’s implied doesn’t need to be explained but not according to Alexis who of course blurts out, “that’s right. Sitting on your man’s face will do it every time.”
“Please excuse her. She ran out of her Lithium.”
“Ehh, they tried that. Didn’t work for me.” It’s the fact that she’s probably dead serious too. “Okay, now which trend are we doing, Trin?”
Trinity's smile, like everything else about her, is bright and beautiful. “I was thinking the Wanna Be one by Meg and Glo.”
Instantly, you know Alexis is sold. “That is my damn song.” She then points to you. “This one needs to go last though, because when I tell you that thing moves like water. This bitch can twerk like Megan.”
One thing you’ve never been is a liar, so you can’t find it in you to call bullshit on Alexis exclamation. You’ve always been super flexible, courtesy of cheer, and twerking has always come a bit natural to you. But, it was really when you started hitting up the strip clubs in college and made acquaintances with the strippers that you learned all of the tricks. 
However, it’s also been years since you last stepped out on the town, and your joints start to hurt from just sitting too long, so the hype may be a little bit undeserved after all.
“That was also before I had a baby, Lex.”
Alexis brushes off your downplay. “She can even do the hand thing. You know, where you put your hand in between your ass cheeks while you still shaking? Iconic.”
Studying her closely, you realize why she’s so amped already. “You pre-gramed, didn’t you?”
She presses her lips together and then goes into denial. “I plead the fifth.” Laughing, she tugs on your arm. “Come onnnn.”
“Fine.” Caving to Alexis is typically the best outcome because the bitch is relentless when she wants something, especially when she’s already tipsy. 
However, Trinity seems just as excited as she directs the three of you to the bathroom where she already has the phone propped up and everything. 
It ends up being a fun time that reminds you so much of those days back in college where you and Lex and a few other girlfriends would spend a damn near hour taking the “perfect” photos for the “gram” and even longer to come up with a witty caption. You even show off a little bit of your twerking skills, nothing too crazy, much to Alexis chagrin. 
Arriving at the club and being escorted to the VIP section, courtesy of Alexis, the ladies order a round of drinks while you settle for a simple bottle, never glass, of water. After your whole fiasco during Christmas, you can’t see yourself sipping even a glass of wine for a while.
It’s a nice blast from the past but also suddenly a bit irritating with how noisy and boisterous everything is. The club is packed, and you’re grateful to be seated up and away from everyone else. While Alexis starts to get her buzz going, Trin partially surprises you by asking for your approval to upload one of the videos to TikTok and a photo to post on Instagram. It’s only partially surprising, because Trin has always been a real one. 
You agree and even helping her with a caption. 
Something bout’ that melanin ✨
Pulling out your own phone to check in on Joe and Callie, you’re surprised to see you have a bunch of IG notifications. This leads to you realizing that Alexis, at some point, posted a couple of photos she made you take on your profile. She even took it upon herself to come up with a caption that makes you both chuckle and shake your head. 
ya favorite athlete’s favorite athlete 😌
It’s not a huge deal to you, as you’d went ahead and made your Instagram private again a couple months prior. It’s a feature you toggle on and off, knowing that only the people you want knowing and seeing your page would even know how to find you. However, with Joe being back in your life and having a few posts with Callie’s face in them, you lean on the side of caution and just plan to keep it private from here on out.
It’s the comments though that really make you pause. 
@user1 omg y/n!!! That body been giving, sis! 
@user2 HA! Always was that girl. Still that girl. Miss you, cuz!
@Mariaaahhhh___92: This really how you wanna do this?
@BigLexPurr: Say it louder for the BITCH in the comments before me. I mean, in the back. 😃
@user3: If only I looked like that after having my baby lmao You look amazing, Y/N!
@RomanReigns Damn straight.
With all the swiftness and quickness, you block Mariah, not needing or wanting her and Alexis to get into a whole spat under your post. But Joe’s comment is definitely one that takes you for surprise, and you wrestle with whether or not you should acknowledge it but eventually decide to do so with a simple reply. 
@yourusername @RomanReigns 😘
You make a mental note to roast his ass for being in your IG comments like that but put your phone away when WAP comes on. Of course, it’s only appropriate that the four of you rap along to every iconic, spiritual lyric spit by Meg and Cardi. Alexis even influences you into doing a little twerk on her that she absolutely captures on Snapchat.
You don’t even need to ask her to know she’s gonna waste no time in sending that over to Joe. How she managed to get him to accept her add on Snapchat is something you’ll never understand. 
“I need some more drink, but I don’t want to get up,” Alexis whines, shooting you the puppy dog eyes.
“Gee, why don’t I—”
“Thank you, friend!”
Shaking your head, you make your way out of the VIP and through the crowd to the bar. Placing the order, you wait patiently, praying that what you know is bound to happen doesn’t happen. A waste of a prayer, because that unwanted happening appears in the form of a crooked smile, bad haircut, and height that can’t exceed 5’9.
He just leans back against the bar, as if waiting for you to, of all things, acknowledge him. That makes you laugh aloud. The fucking irony. 
You decide to take the lead and dead this thing before he can run whatever play he thinks will work on you. “No, I don't want or need you to pay for my drink, and I don't need anything put on your tab. I'm good.”
His smile doesn't deter. If anything, he looks even more intrigued. This was always the part you hated about clubbing. Men who can’t seem to conceive that you “playing hard to get” is actually and really just complete and utter disinterest.
“Oh, you more than good, ma.” His gaze resting on your chest much longer than what's appropriate is both irritating but expected. Men see titties and lose all sense of self-control, the little that some actually do possess, that is. “I'm just trying to see how good.”
You were over this conversation before it even started, hence your readiness to put an end to his fruitless hopes and your irritation.
“My man is 6’3, 287lbs and fights niggas for a living.” Tone both bored and casual as you list off basic facts, you ask, “He's home right now watching our 6 kids. Still wanna do this?”
It's the way his eyes go wide that makes it hard for you not to laugh. That should definitely do the trick. “Naw, I'm good. You fine, but you ain't that damn fine.”
“That's what I thought.” Taking the Martini from the bartender, you saunter your way back over to your section and hand it to Alexis.
“I take it homeboy was trying to take you home.”
Chuckling, you nod. “But, I handled it.”
“Oh, I'm sure you did.” She then turns to the group. “This one was always vicious when turning down bums at the club.”
“Cause sir, why are you talking to me with your uneven fade and height that starts with a 5?”
Trinity and Kay fall out laughing, but you’re dead serious. You’d been called arrogant a couple of times, but it never really affected you because you know you just have standards and refuse to settle.
And clearly…..it worked out.
“I really wish we could do this more often,” Kay suddenly shares, and it takes you a bit by surprise. There was a level of trepidation regarding meeting Josh’s wife. You know they’ve been together since they were in high school, which means there’s a good chance she knows Joe’s ex-wife. A chance they could be friends.
And if she’s anything unlike Mariah, she wouldn’t want to chop it up with the woman who slept with and had a whole baby for her friend’s husband. But so far, Kay has been nothing but kind, a bit on the quiet and reserved side. It’s an interesting dynamic considering Josh is anything but. 
“Do you live in Florida too?” Alexis suddenly asks, sipping her Martini. When Kay nods, Lex slaps you on the arm. “Well, this one will be moving there probably before the end of summer, so maybe ya’ll can link up more often.”
Intrigue paints both Trin and Kay’s faces, as the former asks, “seriously?”
“Yeah, umm, Joe and I were actually looking at a house earlier.” A thin layer of excitement re-emerges as you reflect on the photos you saw. You really do like that house, but it feels so much like a dream, like the expensive houses you look at and critique on Zillow knowing damn well you can’t afford them. 
And you can’t, but he probably can. 
You know he can, or he wouldn’t be showing you in the first place. 
“How do you really feel about moving?” Trin questions. “You still live in your hometown, right?”
“I do.” It’s a valid question, one you, if you’re being honest, sometimes go back and forth on. You know you want to move and ultimately will, but there are still some moments where you feel a bit unsure. It’s to be given, you’re sure, as change can be difficult. “There’s a lot of things I’ll miss, like being away from my mom, but….I want to be with Joe, and it’s what’s best for Callie.”
“She really is a sweet child. You did an amazing job with her.” 
Kay’s compliment warms your heart. “Thank you….that means a lot to me.” Callie is your pride and joy, so to hear others speak highly of her, of how you raised her thus far will always be the best kind of compliment. 
“You’re a teacher, so you’re off for the summer, right?” Trinity suddenly asks. Nodding, she continues, “you and Callie should go on the road with Joe this summer then. Maybe not the whole summer, but a portion. It’ll be fun. I’d love to have ya’ll, and you know he would too.” 
It’s a suggestion that you find yourself actually considering. Outside of PD, which can be done virtually with some prior arrangements, there really would be nothing stopping you from tagging along. Callie would be ecstatic, and something tells you Joe would too. 
Kay then shoots Trinity a look that you can’t quite decipher. “isn’t he….” 
As if awareness dawns, Trinity mutters, “oh, shit, I forgot.” 
Understandably curious, and always uncomfortable with being kept out of the communication loop, you inquire, “what?”
Trinity looks a bit nervous but then answers casually, “Oh nothing, I just forgot they’ve, uhh, gotten a little strict now about family coming on the road. Something about it being too distracting for the wrestlers.”
Alexis seems as skeptical as you are. There’s something they’re not saying. “Isn’t he literally like the face of the whole company? I feel like if he wants them there, then they’ll be there.” She has a fair point. “Look how he takes time off to come fly and see them.”
That actually brings on a question you’ve been wondering about for a while. Directed to Trinity, you ask, “do you know if he gets in trouble for that?” Trinity looks a bit unsure of how to respond, and you know immediately it’s because she’s trying to figure out how much to say. “The truth, please. I can handle it.” 
With a heavy sigh, she relents, “Jon mentioned Joe said something about them talking with him, but I get the sense Joe told them to fuck off. Professionally, of course.”
You’re not sure how to feel about this. The last thing you want is for Joe to risk all of his hard work for you. And you know it’s more for Callie than anything, which you get, but he still has contractual obligations he needs to fulfill.
“I can tell you this…..they can say what they want, but Joe doesn’t play about you and Callie, so he gon keep hopping on flights as much as he needs to.”
“He was really happy when he found out about Callie,” Kay adds in a soft tone with a kind voice. “I remember overhearing him talking with Josh, and he told him, “she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Crying in the club definitely wasn’t on your agenda for this trip, but here you are, trying to blot your eyes with the back of your hand. “Ya’ll, I didn’t wear waterproof mascara. Don’t have me out here looking like a racoon scaring folks off.”
Alexis chimes, “Joe won’t mind. It’ll keep him from coming up in here beating some poor soul’s ass for trying to holler at you.”
Kaylah snorts. “She’s not too far off. All them fools are super protective and territorial.”
“I’m just trying to figure out when ya’ll are gonna stop being selfish and slide one of them my way. It’s obvious they fertile as hell, so there’s gotta be an eligible cousin or uncle or something.”
It’s the fact you know that Lex is dead serious. Thankfully, Travis Porter comes on and that’s enough to bring all of ya’ll back to your feet like you’re 21 all over again. And that’s the dominant and recurring theme of the entire night: dancing, laughing, talking, Alexis being unhinged. 
Wash, rinse, repeat.
The four of you end up returning to the hotel shortly before midnight, the perfect time as somehow, the guys got all of the kids down for bed and were just waiting to make sure you all returned safely. 
Sitting around one of the hotel rooms, you all just chop it up, sharing various stories, no one really tired enough to call it a night.
“See, that’s the thing that people don’t realize. Ain’t a whole lot of difference between Joe and Roman. Uce been had that dog in him.” Jon starts off, sitting up as he explains. Somehow the topic landed on when they were growing up and how Joe’s always had “parts” of Roman in him. “Like one time when we was kids, we was playing a basketball game and he showed up late talking about “aye, let me join.” We tell him, ‘sorry man, we already started.’ He takes the ball, chucks it over in the neighbor's yard, talking about “ain’t nobody playing now.”
There’s a chorus of laughter, but your jaw drops open as you look at Joe, an easy task as you’re perched on his lap. “Did you really do that?” It’s almost inconceivable to see this man do something like that, especially as a child. “Joe, that was mean as hell.”
It’s the fact that he doesn’t deny it and simply shrugs. “Should have let me join in.”
Covering your mouth and shaking your head, you go to scold him for being such an ass, regardless of how long ago it was. But, Alexis soon adds in her two cents, looking your way. “I don’t know why you looking shocked and disappointed, you weren’t much better when we were in college.” She then directs her attention to the group. “So, we were cheerleaders, and Abby Lee Miller over here was a total nightmare during competition season.”
Gasping, you sit up, Joe’s big arm locked around your waist to keep you on him. “I was not.”
She rolls her eyes and takes a drink before admitting, “girl, I love you, but you were a bitch when you were in competition mode.” This is the first time you’re hearing this, so of course, it takes you by surprise. You won’t deny that you could be a bit…..intense during the season, but as captain, there was a shit ton of responsibility on your shoulders. Someone had to take the lead. “There’s a reason we had a whole group chat without you called, ‘Deliver us from Y/N’.”
“You had what?” This is news to you. As far as you were concerned, you had a great relationship with your teammates. It’s why your head coach let you take charge so much, especially in your junior and senior years. “Because I was doing my job?”
Alexis continues, ignoring your questions which is both annoying and predictable. She loves to tell a good story. “She’s the reason I’m hoping and praying Usher doesn’t perform More. It was the song for our Nationals routine, and when I tell you she was on us like goddamn slaves. That routine was hard as fuck, and she ain’t care one bit. It was hella good, like she choreographed the shit out of it, but it was so technical and draining. Bitches in the corner vomiting during practice, and she like ‘get a bucket and keep it pushing.’”
All eyes land on you, waiting for a response, but it’s hard to retort the truth, so you settle on justification. “Okay, that was their fault. I told ya’ll not to eat an hour before.”
Alexis claps her hands as everyone else around laughs. “I rest my case.”
“No wonder ya’ll go together so well,” Josh mutters, taking a drink of his beer. Kaylah slaps his arm but doesn’t say anything in disagreement. 
“What I’m hearing is it’s gon be a two night A&E special. First night? Surviving Joe. Second night? Surviving Y/N.”
Jon’s delivery is really what sells it. You can’t even hold back your laughter. Leaning back into Joe’s chest, you lift up both hands to flip them off. “Ya’ll not gon’ keep talking about my man.” Partially joking, partially serious, it’s not missed upon you how Joe’s deep chuckle in your ear is followed by his fingers innocently moving against the outside of your thigh. 
“You and your man was clearly out here terrorizing people,” Trinity laughs with a shake of her head. “That’s so crazy too, because you don’t give off that energy, Y/N.”
“I’ve calmed down a lot since I had my daughter.” And it’s the truth. Along with age and an extreme respect for your field along with your professional reputation. “But yeah, college Y/N…..she was something else. A little bit of high school as well, but mostly college.”
Alexis makes a sound and then blurts out, “tell em’ about the time you bust that stripper in the head with a bottle, and she had to get 75 stitches.”
Understandably so, there’s a round of shocked expressions and questions following Alexis so casually dropping one of the wildest experiences you had in college. 
You hear Jon ask something about if you have a criminal record, but it’s really Joe giving you that ‘you gon explain?’ look that makes you cave. 
“Oh lord, I can’t believe I’m about to tell this story.” You turn to Joe, warning. “You’re not allowed to hold it against me either.”
“Let me hear it first, and I’ll let you know after.” You know he’s joking, but still, you hit him on his arm. He’s supposed to hold you down, no matter what. Aggravated assault and all.
“Okay, so were at the strip club—”
Jon can’t help himself, asking, “damn, you got down like that?” 
He has no idea.
“You gotta remember, we were cheerleaders, so we spent a lot of time with the football and basketball teams. And they asses was always there, so we would tag along cause why not? I always had a good time. The food was good as hell too. Anyway, I was dating a football player at the time—”
Alexis slaps Joe on the arm. “She’s always had a type.”
“Yeah, ‘ain’t shit’, clearly.” You grab Joe’s jaw, clarifying. “Except for you, baby.” He mutters his approval, and you continue, “so, I was dating this dude, and he was cheating on me, which was fine. I wasn’t really into him anyway. But, turns out the girl he was cheating with was one of the strippers there and a classmate. I don’t know how the stupid bitch didn’t realize who I was before that night, but whatever. I guess she caught feelings for him or something and saw me as the problem? Mind you, I was dating him before he even started fucking her, but she called herself trying to step to me. And she was talking shit, which I didn’t necessarily care about because one thing I’ve never and will never do is fight over a man. Any fight I ever got into was because they said something about my mama or someone else I love.”
“How many fights you done—” Trinity elbows Jon who grunts and then mutters for you to keep going.
Chuckling, you do so, “so she calls me a bitch….okay, but then calls my mom a bitch, and at that point, I’m seeing red. Cause now my food is cold, I was about to get a lap dance that’s not gon’ happen cause now I gotta beat her ass, and all over some wack ass dick. But now she done bought my mama into it….absolutely not.” A beat. “I didn’t hit her first, because I never hit first, but I did say some slick shit that I knew would provoke her.” You decide to leave out exactly what you said given how graphic it was. “And she hit me, but then this other bitch joins in—”
“And that’s when I get involved,” Alexis chimes, raising her drink high and proud. “Because what you not gon do is jump my motherfucking best friend in front of me.”
Laughing, you continue, “so Alexis crazy ass is beating her friend, I’m on this girl, but then she calls herself trying to stab me with the heel of her shoe or something cause obviously I’m winning—”
“This some WorldStarHipHip shit if I ain’t ever heard—” Trinity hits Jon for his interruption and motions for you to continue going, clearly and deeply invested in the retelling of this wild ass night.
“I’m mixing on this bitch, cause one thing about me, I know how to fight. I just choose not to do it.” And it’s true. Fighting is a last resort, always has been for you, but make no mistake, you know how to throw down. “Anyway, I snatch the shoe out of her hand, grab this bottle of Hennesy I see near me and smash it over her head.”
“And it was lights out.” Alexis says dramatically. “That bitch was laid out like a crime scene. Patrick Star headass.”
Wiping the tears from your eyes from your laughter, you continue, “so someone calls the cops. They show up, and I’m starting to get nervous thinking she’s gonna press charges, because I bust her head open. She had to get stitches and everything. But I had made friends with the owner of the club—-that’s a whole other story—and basically, he refused to provide her with any video footage, made sure no one said anything about what happened, was friends with the cops, and they just chalked it up to a bunch of drunk girls being stupid. And I got off.” Clapping your hand to signify the end, you rest back against Joe. “The end.”
There’s a slightly understandable moment of silence before Kaylah calmly asks, “How drunk were you?”
That’s an easy answer. “Oh, I wasn’t drunk.”
“So….you did all that sober?” Trinity asks, like she needs to just make sure she’s following correctly. 
“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ and look over at Joe who’s all of the emotions, primarily, amused, surprised, and strangely turned on. “Wild times.”
Jon is the first to speak after that. “Man, I always knew I liked you, Y/N. Your ass a little crazy, but I fucks with it.” 
Laughing, you explain. “You gotta keep in mind, I was like 19 at the time. I was young and definitely dumb in a lot of ways. I’ll be 32 this year and have grown a lot. I have zero desire to put my hands on anyone. I have a child and a career. I may be tempted, but I’m not going to actually do it.  I have too much to lose”
“And that’s why she has me.” Alexis lifts her drink. “I don’t have much to lose cause I’m rich enough to get off. Plus, she’s all boring now. You see how early we’re back. Back in the day, we’d club hop until like 4 in the morning. At least up until Junior year,” she gestures to you with her outstretched thumb. “That’s when this heifer had to get all studious on me.” 
“4.0, Summa Cum Laude.” You make a little pose and laugh. “I just got my shit together, and clearly….” you lean back to look at Joe. “ —it paid off.”
—----------
Obviously, you’ve never attended a professional football game, let alone the fucking Super Bowl, but even knowing that, you’re partially surprised by just how many damn people are there. It’s absolutely jam packed, and you’re suddenly grateful for the security detail that escorts the group of you to your seating area.
Joe holds Callie and keeps your hand in his which impacts you in a strange way that you can’t explain. This whole trip has been him being unabashedly open about you and Callie, and you’re starting to think that’s the part that’s still a bit difficult.
For three years, you felt like some secret he kept hidden and stored away, so to be so “displayed” so publicly is such a stark contrast you’re still trying to sit with. It’s not a bad adjustment, just an adjustment nonetheless. 
The section rented for the group is surprisingly spacious enough for everyone, and you and Kaylah immediately go delegating, having the kids all in the back rows with the men front and center to see the game they’ve been praying for all year. You knew Joe was a huge 49ers fan, hence your not being entirely surprised when you found a box at your apartment door with a bunch of 49ers apparel for you and Callie to pick from for the game. He also, in true Joe fashion, sent you both sneakers with the 49ers team colors of black, red, and gold. 
And one look at Callie as she interacts with her cousins, you can’t deny how adorable she looks, especially as they’re also sporting the apparel because of course his whole family are also fans. Granted, you can’t deny how adorable she looks all decked out like her daddy. You took a more subtle approach, agreeing to the letterman jacket and sneakers, combining them with the 49ers long sleeved crop top and stretch black pants.
There’s a lot of getting everyone settled and you warning Alexis not to make a damn fool of herself, which apparently she’s also dead set on. Something about needing to be ready to be either a consolation or celebration prize for whatever player she was going home with tonight. 
When the game starts though, it’s absolutely fascinating watching how intently focused the men are, not wanting to miss a single second. You’re suddenly really grateful you’d briefly spoke with Callie about how this game was very important to Joe, so his attention may not be on her as much as she wants but that’s okay because he’s just a little busy. She responded well, and you can see how helpful it is for her to be around not only other kids but her cousins.
The ease of their connection and ability to play together is something you’re so grateful for, so happy to see. It definitely makes you even more excited about moving, about her being closer to family. 
That thought reminds you to ask Joe when he wants to talk to Callie about that, about moving. It feels like something the two of you should do together. 
Ironically, you’ve never really been a huge football person, so your interest in the game and who wins is pretty slim to none. You’re there for a good time and, most importantly, Usher’s performance. Kaylah seems to be on a similar wavelength, so while the rest are deeply invested in arguably the most important game of the year, you two engage in casual dialogue. 
She gives you some much appreciated tips on the area, specifically regarding school systems and other resources for Callie. She mentions a dance school her daughter also attends classes at, and that immediately catches your attention cause Callie has given some indications she wants to do ballet. And while you have your reservations, it’s mostly been because of financial reasons.
Not that daddy warbucks over there won’t handle that for you. 
There’s also a lot of photos and videos that get taken to commemorate this moment. Most of which are headed by life of the party, Alexis. You’re grateful though, happy to have her here. She even catches your attention when Callie maneuvers her way over to Joe, tugging on his pants leg for him to pick her up. You start to bring her back by you, but you end up watching Joe pull her up, kissing her cheek as he patiently tries to explain the game to her.
It brings a warm smile on your face, and you use your phone to snap a photo of them. It’s from behind, but the lighting, the way Joe is pointing and Callie following his line of vision, there’s something about it so wholesome and moving.
You set it as your lock screen. 
By the time halftime rolls around, the men are all in great moods given their team is so far dominating. However, you and the rest of the ladies present are in a great mood for entirely different reasons. 
The minute you hear the opening chords of Caught Up, you’re in a completely different world, similar to the happy space of attending concerts in your teens and college days. Alexis is definitely your number one hype woman, but really, Trin and Kaylah are just as lit. The guys are definitely enjoying the show as well, but Usher has been that man for you, so he’s your only focus. 
It only gets exponentially better, and the minute he starts to perform Yeah joined by both Lil John and Ludacris, you and Alexis are shouting out every single damn word of Luda’s iconic verse. 
It’s definitely a moment you’ll absolutely never forget.
Unfortunately, the halftime show seems to be a bit of a climax as the third quarter progresses, and the tide seems to start turning in favor of the Chiefs. Similarly, it’s not missed upon you how the younger kids seem to be slowing down. Callie is definitely ready for bed and understandably so. It’s been a long day and is way past her bedtime. After a brief discussion with Joe and Josh, it’s decided that you and Kaylah will take the younger kids back to the hotel, especially since you both have very little interest in how the game plays out but respect the guys needing to stay. 
And Alexis wild ass most definitely stays behind for….obvious reasons.
Joe, of course, doesn’t let you and Callie leave without a hug, kiss, and telling you both he loves you. A tradition of sorts now, definitely one you’ll never get tired of.
Security escorts the smaller group of you to your vehicles, and by the time you’ve reached the hotel, the younger kids are tapped out. You manage to get Callie out of her clothes, into her jammies, and bonnet on her head before she passes out in her bed. 
Kaylah has a similar experience with her kids, the two of you plopping down on the sofa together. 
“I hope they pull the win. I don’t know if you’ve ever been around Joe when the 49ers lose, but he’s not pleasant. None of them are.”
“I get it,” you chuckle. “I’d be pissed if I paid all that money to see my team lose too.”
“At least we had our good time seeing Usher’s fine ass.”
Laughing, you slap hands with her. “I know that’s right!”
As the laughter dies down, Kaylah gives you an earnest smile. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I really am glad you came on this trip. I’ve heard both the twins and especially Joe speak so highly of you, and they definitely weren’t wrong. More importantly, I think you’re really good for Joe. I haven’t seen him as happy as he is with you and Callie since we were in high school, really.”
“Can I be honest with you about something?” Her kind words make you feel comfortable enough to be forthcoming with her. “I was a bit nervous you wouldn’t like me.”
Her eyes widen. “Me? Why?”
“I guess…..I worried you would feel a sense of loyalty to Joe’s ex-wife, and given how we got together…..
She nods. “I can understand that, but…if I’m being honest with you, I’ve probably had more meaningful interactions with you in these two days than I did in all of the time they were together. Don’t get me wrong, Jadah was super nice and chill, but she never really interacted with us like that. She mostly kept to herself.”
“What was the deal with their marriage?” It feels a bit off asking her, but given she’s known them for so long, she of all people would be the person to ask. “I know….I know he told me they only got married because she was pregnant and that….that she miscarried.”
It’s when you say that she gives you a strange look. “Y/N…..they didn’t have a miscarriage.” Before the shock fully wears off and you can ask her what happened then, she explains in an understandably sad tone. “It was….it was a stillbirth. She was 8 months pregnant.”
Your stomach…drops. That….that’s not what you expected to leave her mouth. Not at all.
Thinking back to that brief conversation with Joe, he never really specified what happened. Just made sure you knew Callie didn’t have a sibling. You’d just assumed a miscarriage is what happened. 
But a stillbirth….your brain can’t even begin to comprehend the heartbreak they must have experienced. To be in a headspace that you’re welcoming your first child for the better part of a year only to have it so cruelly ripped away in such a horrific manner….it’s devastating.
“I didn’t….”
“He didn’t tell you?” You shake your head, and she offers a sad smile. “I’m not surprised. Joe seems very open with you and obviously trusts you a lot, but that….I know that messed him up real bad.” 
Just like finding out he’d missed out on almost five years of Callie’s life. You’re starting to understand more and more why he came at you so hard initially, it was more than warranted but most likely pulling from his prior trauma as well. 
Kaylah continues, explaining gently, “I don’t know…I don’t know if it’s a good idea to push him too much on discussing it, YN. He’s never even really talked about it to the twins, and they tell each other everything. I’m sure he’s never fully processed it. Then again, I don’t know how you can ever process something like that.”
Hearing this has suddenly entirely soured your mood, and you have no ill feelings toward Kaylah. Just the opposite. You’re grateful she felt comfortable enough to be honest with you. You just wish the truth didn’t have you with this dull ache in your chest.
—----------
The 49ers loss hits you harder for reasons completely different than actual fans. It makes you sad for Joe, a sentiment you were already struggling with, to be honest.
Anticipating he’ll be looking for some sort of distraction, especially with Callie knocked out for the night, you try to get your shower finished before he makes it back to the hotel. It’s a wasted effort, because not only does he make it back before then, but he scares the hell out of you when his hulking frame joins you from behind under the steaming hot water. 
But before a single word can leave your mouth, his lips are on you, and you know instantly that he plans to take his emotions out on you in the only way that’s most appropriate. 
Fucking.
Joe fucks you against the shower wall, on the bathroom counter, in the exact way you promised him the night before but couldn’t follow through on because you were tired. He’s rough, rougher than you’ve had him in a while, and while it’s exactly what you wanted, it also saddens you that you know he’s disappointed. 
It’s just a game, yes, but there’s something about a loss at this level that makes it hit deeper. It also doesn’t help that you were already feeling a tremendous amount of empathy toward him after finding out about his loss. 
Body completely used and thoroughly fucked, the end of your sexscapade finds you both, naked and worn out. Your body is draped upon his as his finger moves around lazily across your back.
It’s a comfortable silence when he asks, “was I too rough with you?”
Lifting your head, you give him the strangest look. How long has it been since ya’ll really fucked? He’s clearly forgotten how you get down. “Did you seriously just ask me that? This is me, Joe..” Laying your head back on his chest, you remind him of your only rules in the bedroom. “Unless I’m bleeding or passed out, never too rough.”
Laughing, he flicks your arm as you kiss his shoulder. Changing gears a bit, his expression softens. “Thank you for coming, for bringing her.” 
“You never have to thank me for that.” You remind, because it’s the truth. You’d escort Callie to Siberia if that’s where he was. “But we do need to figure out when we’re gonna talk to her about moving.”
He seems to also remember this is a thing, asking, “how do you think she’ll feel?”
You have to take a second to think about his question. It’s something you’ve definitely considered. Callie has only known your town. That’s her home. What would it be like to uproot her? You finally settle on the best, honest answer you can muster. “I think she’ll be a little sad to leave her preschool friends, definitely my mom but what she wants more than anything is to be a family, so she’ll be happy.”
“Does she know we’re together?”
“I—I don’t know actually.” It’s not really something you’ve thought about until this very moment, just kinda assumed that it was a given. “Well, shit, maybe we should tell her that too.” 
He chuckles. “I’m sure she’s probably put two and two together.”
“Probably so.” Callie is definitely one smart cookie, and it wouldn’t be too far fetched to assume she’s realized you and Joe are dating. “Oh, and going back to moving, it’s Florida. Disney is in Florida. That’ll definitely be a selling point for her.”
Joe’s hand moves up and down your side, soothingly. “We’re going the week of her birthday, by the way.” 
Peeking up at him, you double check what’s really obvious but also still so surreal. “To Disney?”
“Yeah.” 
“They let you off for a whole week?” That’s a stunner, for certain. “Coming off a Wrestlemania win? Damn, just how heavy is your pull now?” 
“What?” He seems confused by your question, like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. And that’s puzzling to you because there’s nothing confusing about what you’re asking. You know enough about WWE to know how this works. He’s gonna retain at WrestleMania and be subsequently thrust deep in promos and segments. “Oh yeah….I’ve got it handled.”
Waiting for more is a waste of time with this man. He can be so coy sometimes. “You’re not gonna tell me anything more, are you?”
“Nope.” 
“Ass.” His elusive behavior is becoming both familiar and given but still annoying nonetheless. Regardless, you take your turn, switching topics a bit. “Have I told you how proud of you I am? Cause I am. So so proud of you, Joe. I always knew you could do it.” You lift up, biting down on your bottom lip as you push some of his hair back. “You’re gonna hold the record for most main events at Wrestlemania. Beating Hulk’s record. Thee fucking Hulk Hogan. And once you whoop Ken doll’s ass, you’re gonna have the third longest title reign in WWE history. Do you know how amazing that is?”
His hand is on your hip, making soft circles. “It’s not everything….”
Scoffing, you dismiss his dismissal. That is quite literally everything he ever told you he wanted. “The hell it isn’t. I remember every conversation we ever had about this, Leati. Your worries. Your hopes. Your dreams. This is what you’ve always wanted and worked your whole life for.” He’d always been so open and vulnerable about where he ultimately wanted his career to go, the burning desire he had to make it happen, and to see him do just that means the world to you. It should mean the world to him.
But there’s something off about his tone, and you can’t quite make out if it’s because he’s still reeling from the loss or something else. It almost feels like everything you’re saying is going in one ear and out the other because it no longer means that much to him. You know that can’t be the case. Not with how long he’s been grinding and working his ass off. 
His tone and expression are both appreciative as he shares, “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much your support meant to me. You always knew the right thing to say.”
You lean down to kiss him, nice and slow. “I’m just really good at that shit.” Biting down on your bottom lip, you slowly start to snake your hand down his chest. “I’m really good at a lot of shit actually.” Whatever is bothering him, you know one way to help.
A really really good way.
Chuckling, his jaw clenches when you try to wrap your hand around him, fingers unable to connect from his width. He’s already hard for you. “You lock the door?”
You’ve never been so grateful for hotel rooms with bedroom doors that lock.
“Of course.” There’s no time wasted in moving so that you’re on top of him, reaching to align him just right so you can sink down on your favorite pastime. 
“My turn….”
—----------
Someone knocking on your door, loudly, at 11am, just hours after you land back in town wasn’t on your agenda for the day.
You, Callie, and Alexis caught an early morning flight that was difficult for everyone giving how crazy busy the weekend was, but especially for Callie who was already sad at having to say bye to her dad again and was still tired from lack of adequate sleep. 
You’re especially happy you chose to take today off and keep Callie home from preschool. You definitely need time to recover.
But life has a way of lifing. You’re immediately annoyed, looking beside you to see that Alexis is also stirring in her sleep, mumbling something about ‘fuck off.’ Sighing loudly, you stare at the ceiling, almost ready to leave whoever it is outside. But then they knock again, and you know this isn’t someone you can avoid. 
Even if you’re very tempted. Reaching for a robe, you pull it on and tie it around your wait, sliding your slippers on to make your way to the front door. Not even bothering to look through the peephole, you rip it open, ready to curse someone out when you see who it is.
Alyssa’s striking blue eyes are the first thing you noticed followed by the shine of the police badge attached to Officer Austin’s uniform. 
Why the hell is a police officer and one of the town’s social worker at your door?
“Hi….” You have to clear your voice, sleep weighing it down with coarse grit. “Is…is everything alright?” Panic briefly sets in. “Is it one of my students?”
This is the part of being a teacher that guts you, when a child is being harmed or at risk of being harmed and you have to make a call that does both a lot of good and a lot of bad. Alyssa has been the social worker you’ve worked with the most, but this is definitely the first time she’s come to your house about a case.
“Y/N…..” Her expression is grim, and you realize quickly that whatever it is is not good. Not good at all. “We received a report against you.”
“A report?” Your hand is gripping the door so tightly, you’re certain splinters are going to embed themselves into the pads of your fingers. But it’s a much better feeling than what’s starting to grow in the pit of your stomach. “What—what kind of report?”
There’s hesitation, and you understand why when she clarifies. “An immediate danger report.” 
“No.” Your stomach drops. “Alyssa, you can’t—-you can’t be serious.”
Your head is absolutely spinning. This…this can’t be right. A social worker and police officer cannot be standing at your door saying that someone called DCFS on you and made a report that not only is Callie in danger, but she’s in immediate danger. 
You’ve had the unfortunate experience of being the one to make reports, working plenty with Alyssa and the local police to navigate these cases. And it’s in that experience you’ve learned the definition of an immediate danger report and what it requires.
The immediate removal of a child from the accused home and custody.
They want to take Callie from you. 
Officer Austin speaks in an equally sympathetic tone. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve known you since you were a little girl, and this makes me sick to my stomach. I hate it. I know it’s all lies and a waste of time and resources, but you know the law. We have to—“
However, you’re focused on Alyssa as you know the police are only brought along in case the situation becomes hostile. You have no desire to get physical with law enforcement, but you will get down on your hands and knees if that’s what it takes to keep your baby with you. “Please don’t do this. Alyssa, you know me—“
“I do, and that’s why I arranged where she’ll be released to your mom for custody and I got a hearing scheduled with the judge for you on Wednesday. It’ll only be three days—” If it wasn’t for the pending mental breakdown, you’d be more appreciative. You’d much rather Callie be sent to stay with your mom instead of put in emergency foster care.
You’re not sure if you’d be able to live with that. 
“Oh my god…..” You feel like you’re going to pass out, suddenly aware of Alexis' presence as she too asks more questions about what’s going on and who made this report. She’s, understandably, pissed. But, her last question is a no brainer. 
There’s only one person you know who would have a motive to do something like this.
“Three days without speaking or seeing my child! You know how attached she is to me, Alyssa!” It’s also in your experience with these types of situations that you know zero communication is allowed between the child and parent being accused until the emergency court hearing takes place. 
Three days without being able to speak to Callie….pain like this should never be allowed to be experienced. It’s a nightmare turned into reality. 
She truly looks remorseful, and you know she finds this just as ridiculous as you. “My hands are tied Y/N.”
Voice low, you finally ask, “what are the accusations?” If an answer was given to Alexis, you didn’t hear it, and regardless. You need to ask for yourself.
“Y/N.”
You repeat, no room for argument or refusal in your tone. “What…are the accusations, Alyssa?”
She swallows, answering in a low tone. “Child endangerment. Specifically….you’ve been accused of leaving Callie unintended to meet men for sex, and the accusation that made it immediate danger….is that you plan to prostitute Callie.”
It takes everything in you not to projectile vomit right on the spot, as you move your hand to your stomach, bent over. There aren’t enough words to describe your disgust and revulsion. 
Alyssa starts to provide more basic information regarding getting Callie back, but it's a waste of time.
You know this. You’re more than well aware of how this process works. Just never in a million years did you think you’d be involved in one of your own.
Absolutely defeated and crushed, you ask, “let me talk to her first, please.”
“Of course.” 
Alexis stays behind to follow up with additional questions that you’re partially paying attention to, but the majority of your focus is on staying upright. You could throw up and pass out on cue at this very moment. That’s how overwhelmed you feel, but the second your shaking hand opens Callie’s door, it’s an even bigger battle.
She’s still sleeping. 
Your sweet, innocent child is still sleeping, probably trying to recover from all the festivities from this weekend. And you have to wake her up. You have to wake her up to undoubtedly break her heart.
“Oh God…..” Hand on your stomach, you take three, big, deep breaths to settle your nervous system. Callie can’t see how much of a wreck you are. That’s only going to make it worse.
Sitting on the side of her bed, you clench and unclench your hands to minimize the shaking before gently pushing on her shoulder. “Calista, baby, I need you to get up.” It takes a couple of times, as you knew it would because you know your child like the back of your hand. The child who you would never do anything to endanger or any of the other egregious accusations made against you resulting in this nightmare.
Eyes blinking open, you chuckle at the pout on her face.
“I’m sleepy, mommy….”
“I know, baby.” You clear your throat, playing off the way emotion catches you, almost exposing the seriousness of this moment. “But…mommy needs you to get up. You….you’ve gotta go by grandma, okay?”
She looks at you, still with that pout and very much still partially sleep. “Can we go later?”
“No, baby. I—” This is inarguably one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. “I can’t go with you.”
And this is when you see her pout deepen. “Why?”
“Callie….” Hand on her face, you try to ignore the sound of your heart shattering. “You’re not gonna see mommy or be able to talk to me for a couple days, baby.”
And you knew, you knew before even opening your mouth that her eyes would begin to water that telling her this harsh but necessary truth would cause the reaction you’re starting to see. Her face is reddening, mouth dropped into a permanent frown.
It tears you apart to do this to her. “Baby, please don’t cry. It’s only for three days and—and you’ll have grandma, and—and auntie Alexis will visit you, and I’ll make sure daddy talks to you as often as he can—”
“But what about you? You’re my mommy.” She rubs at her eyes, crying harder. “Why are you leaving me?”
Pulling her into your chest, you swear to her, “listen to me, Callie, I will never ever leave you. Okay? The…the people who make sure little kids like you are safe and taken care of just want to make sure I’m a good mommy to you, o-okay?”
“But you’re the best mommy,” she cries into you, and a sob leaves your throat at that. Callie’s heartfelt tears, the fear and confusion in her little voice. It rips your heart to shreds. You hold her as long as you can before helping her get dressed and
gather a little backpack with a few items. 
You know she already has mostly everything she’ll need at your mom’s already.
Everything except you. 
Alyssa allows you to hold her as you walk down to the police car, but it’s when Officer Austin opens the door and Callie begins to cry, asking him, “please don’t take me from my mommy!” that you break again.
It’s impossible to keep your composure with your four-year-old child begging not to be taken from you. Pulling it together, you kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, reminding her that you love her, and that you’ll see her again before she knows it. It’s the best you can do, it’s the only thing you can do. 
Setting her down on the ground, you crouch in front of her, placing both hands on her cheeks. “Ms. Alyssa and this nice officer are gonna bring you to grandma right now, okay? I promise I’m gonna get you as soon as I can, baby, and no one will ever take you away from me again, okay?” 
She doesn’t say anything, face still full of heartbreak. She hugs you again, holding on tight. “I love you, mommy.”
Voice cracking, you whisper, “I love you too, baby.”
Eventually finding the strength, you break away and stand up to see Alyssa wiping a tear from her eyes. She then forces a sad smile and takes Callie’s hand, leading her into the back of the police car. Even being buckled in, you see Callie continuing to look back at you, sadness morphing with helplessness. 
And that’s the last view you’ll have of your daughter, looking hopeless and confused as to why this is happening. 
But you know exactly why this is happening. 
And you know exactly what you need to do.
“Y/N…..” 
Alexis watery eyes are a brief view you have before dashing up the stairs and throwing open your apartment door. Shaking hands manage to grab you car keys off the kitchen island as you head back for the front door only to find that you can’t march out because Alexis is standing in front of the door. 
“Move out my way, Alexis.” 
“Y/N. You’re upset. Okay—”
Snapping, you shout at her. “Move! Now!”
She doesn’t hesitate to match your energy. “Not until you fucking calm down!”
Snapping, you scream. “She just got my child taken away from me, Alexis! Don’t tell me to calm down! I’m gonna smash her fucking face in!”
Never…..never in a million years did you think Mariah could be capable of something like this. That she could be evil as to call DCFS on you, make up lies so horrific that it sickens you to even think about them, and have your child ripped away from you. Damn what this has done to you. What about Callie? Was she even thinking about how traumatic this would be for Callie?
She’ll be thinking about it when you stomp her head into the fucking pavement.
“Hey! You have every right to be upset, okay? But, this is probably what she wants! She knows they’re not gonna find anything on you, but you go over there and beat her ass, it puts the spotlight on you and then gives them a basis to question your fitness.” Alexis is such a sound voice of reason right now, but it’s hard to heed when your literal heart has just been ripped from your fucking body. “You need to focus on doing what you need to do to get Callie back, okay? Call Joe—”
Joe.
You hadn’t….you hadn’t even thought about him. How can you explain this to him? Explain to him that your child, the child he just found out about not even six months ago is now technically in custody of DCFS because of your friend. Is that even forgivable? Beyond that, how crushing is that going to be for him?
Eyes watering, you shake your head, volume a few octaves lowered. You feel like you’re about to have a panic attack. “No, I can’t—-I can’t tell him.”
Alexis steps to you, placing her hands on your face, centering you. “Yes, you can, and you will. He needs to know, and you need support right now. I’m here for you, of course, but that’s the man you love. You need him.” Her expression then darkens. “And don’t you worry about Mariah. I got that hoe. Believe that. You don’t have to put a hand on her. Imma do it for you.” 
Alexis words do both everything and nothing for you. Granted, you’re not sure if anything will be substantial enough short of having your child returned to your custody or all of this being some sick joke. 
You’re not even sure when Alexis walks away to grab your phone until she’s reaching it to you. “Call him, sweetie. I promise you he’s not going to blame you. He’s going to be upset for the same reasons you are: because this is all bullshit. But please, Y/N, just….call this man.”
Finally taking the phone, she nods with a small smile. She then goes to remove her earrings and pull back her hair. “I’m gonna go curb stump this hoe.”
Alexis goes to the back, and you just stare at your phone. You once thought calling Joe to tell him about Callie’s existence would be one of the hardest phone calls you would ever have to make. 
God, you were so wrong. 
Trembling fingers tap on the phone to bring up his contact, and with tears streaming down your face, you hit call.
Whether for better or worse, he doesn’t answer, forcing you to leave a voicemail message. 
“Hey.” It’s a fruitless and meritless effort to keep your voice strong when you feel anything but. “I–I need you to call me as soon as you get a chance….please.” Hitting end, both you and the phone drop on the floor. On your knees, you finally release the sob you’d been holding in for the past twenty minutes. Moments later, Alexis is besides you, comforting you.
Not that it does any good. 
There is no good left.
Only pain.
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jaybug-jabbers · 1 year ago
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Tumblr media Tumblr media
Gelatopod - Ice/Fairy
(Vanilla-Caramel Flavor is normal, Mint-Choco is shiny)
Artist - I adopted this wonderful fakemon from xeeble! So I decided to make up a full list of game data, moves, lore, etc. for it. Enjoy! :D
Abilities - Sticky Hold/Ice Body/Weak Armor (Hidden)
Pokedex Entries
Scarlet: Gelatopod leaves behind a sticky trail when it moves. A rich, creamy ice cream can be made from the collected slime.
Violet: At night, it uses the spike on its shell to dig into the ground, anchoring itself into place. Then it withdraws into its shell to sleep in safety.
Stats & Moves
BST - 485
HP - 73
Attack - 56
Defense - 100
Special Attack - 90
Special Defense - 126
Speed - 40
Learnset
Lvl 1: Sweet Scent, Sweet Kiss, Aromatherapy, Disarming Voice
Lvl 4: Defense Curl
Lvl 8: Baby Doll Eyes
Lvl 12: Draining Kiss
Lvl 16: Ice Ball
Lvl 21: Covet
Lvl 24: Icy Wind
Lvl 28: Sticky Web
Lvl 32: Dazzling Gleam
Lvl 36: Snowscape
Lvl 40: Ice Beam
Lvl 44: Misty Terrain
Lvl 48: Moonblast
Lvl 52: Shell Smash
Friendship Level Raised to 160: Love Dart (Signature Move)
Egg Moves
Mirror Coat, Acid Armor, Fake Tears, Aurora Veil
Signature Move - Love Dart
Learned when Gelatopod's friendship level reaches 160 and then the player completes a battle with it
Type - Fairy, Physical, Non-Contact
Damage Power - 20 PP - 10 (max 16) Accuracy - 75%
Secondary Effect - Causes Infatuation in both male and female pokemon. Infatuation ends in 1-4 turns.
Flavor Text - The user fires a dart made of hardened slime at the target. Foes of both the opposite and same gender will become infatuated with the user.
TM Moves
Take Down, Protect, Facade, Endure, Sleep Talk, Rest, Substitute, Giga Impact, Hyper Beam, Helping Hand, Icy Wind, Avalanche, Snowscape, Ice Beam, Blizzard, Charm, Dazzling Gleam, Disarming Voice, Draining Kiss, Misty Terrain, Play Rough, Struggle Bug, U-Turn, Mud Shot, Mud-Slap, Dig, Weather Ball, Bullet Seed, Giga Drain, Power Gem, Tera Blast
Other Game Data
Gender Ratio - 50/50
Catch Rate - 75
Egg Groups - Fairy & Amorphous
Hatch Time - 20 Cycles
Height/Weight - 1'0''/1.3 lbs
Base Experience Yield - 170
Leveling Rate - Medium Fast
EV Yield - 2 (Defense & Special Defense)
Body Shape - Serpentine
Pokedex Color - White
Base Friendship - 70
Game Locations - Glaseado Mountain, plus a 3% chance of encountering Gelatopod when the player buys Ice Cream from any of the Ice Cream stands
Notes
I'm not a competitive player, but I did my best to balance this fakemon fairly and not make it too broken. Feel free to give feedback if you have any thoughts!
I have a huge bias for Bug Pokemon since they're my favorite type, and at first I wanted to make it Bug/Ice, since any intervebrate could be tossed into the 'Bug' typing. But ultimately I decided to keep xeeble's original idea of Ice/Fairy. There's precedent of food-themed pokemon being Fairy type, and Ice/Fairy would be very interesting due to its rarity (only Alolan Ninetails has it). Its type weaknesses are also slightly easier to handle than Bug/Ice imo
The signature move is indeed based on real love darts, I could not resist something that fascinating being made into a Pokemon move, even if the real games may possibly shy away from the idea. (Honestly it could be argued "Love Dart" is based on Cupid's arrow so Gamefreak might actually get away with making a move like this though.) Its effectiveness on both males and females is a nod to snails/slugs being biological hermaphrodites. I can see this move also being learned by Gastrodon and Magcargo in Scarlet/Violet
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moonshynecybin · 6 months ago
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okay i'm sorry for this but. you mentioning marc crying + showing hole on ig at the same time made me think. he would so be an overstimulation kinda crier.
he literally is thank you so much. genuinely before AND after reconciliation it’s like. he is genuinely crying by the time vale gets inside him. ummmmmm this got lawng. under the cut !
EYE think. marc has this insane ability to have this vice grip handle on his body and his reactions to physical input thereof… high pain tolerance high pleasure tolerance i would wager. think about how clear headed he is on track despite an INSANE amount of sensation and physical input and adrenaline… like it all speaks to his freak ass nature. you can’t just turn that shit off !!
SO it’s fun for MEEE to take that to its logical conclusion. sex with vale valentino rossi. where (at the beginning especially) he’s starstruck and responsive and sweet, but he’s also very clearly still ALL there. no getting lost in the hedonistic haze for marc— instead he’s absolutely DIALED IN on vale, cataloging information like a crazy person. he’s like. vale likes it when i move my hips like X and i incorporate more tongue here and just. trying to win at sex. make it good for vale make it good overall (ITS ALREADY INSANE MIND YOU). trying to get a good grade in fucking vale trying to WIN ! and i think it results creating a little competitive streak in vale where he NOTICES and. well he wants to make marc absolutely lose his god damn mind. and it’s not ONLY as a “winning at sex” kind of thing (trust that is at play. the crazy ego of getting there— the desire to see this hyper, neurotic, COMPETITIVE (a RIVAL. the fastest guy on track even !) guy CHILL OUT), it’s also coupled with grade A 100% pure and earnest horniness. crucially. it bothers him that his baseline effort gets marc there but doesn’t make him LOSE HIS MIND!! BEST HE EVER HAD!! crazy possessive streak he ABSOLUTELY doesn’t quite understand… he wants him to not be able to SPEAK… he wants the only thing swimming around in marc’s little intelligent fucked up noggin to be VALENTINO ROSSI in bright flashing letters… so. he sets about achieving that goal with typical rakish whimsy
so they fuck normal style and marc comes and it’s Good (knee wobbly) and he’s laughing like. jajaja okay now i will take a shower :3 and he’s got one knee off the bed stupid blue underwear in hand looking ENTIRELY too unruffled for someone who just got their back blown out by THEE valentino rossi… ass insane abs go crazy hair all over the place flush on his cheeks… just casually LEAVING the bed while vale’s still strung out breathing hard all sweaty from fucking and tangled in sheets lounging like a roman emperor. and that’s when the irritation meets competitiveness meets horny and some neuron fires in vale’s head and the switch FLIPS. and vale catches marc by the wrist. pulls him back. flips him against the mattress gets a thumb under his knee. marc shivers mouth like :o vale slings his legs over his shoulderssssssssss and he gets to WORK.
genuinely vale like. sorry nasty zone. getting him off as many times as humanely possible. relentless. fingers him blows him fucks him then eats his own come out of his hole absolutely NASTY. hickies on thighs thumbs on his nipple. marc doesn’t even know what to DO with all of it… and marc can handle a lot of sensation he LIKES a lot of sensation…. the things that would be WAY too much for normal people are justttt enough for our boy marc marquez… but his knees were jello forty minutes ago and vale’s got two fingers tugging on the oversensitive rim of his hole and his tongue is playing slick on the underside of his cock and vale’s STARING at him blue eyes clear and lasered in… and vale takes his other hand and presses his fingers, feather light against the outside of marc’s thigh, a caress, and marc is coming and his breath is catching and tears are hitting the light in the corner of his eyes like he’s an old hollywood star and he’s SO overwhelmed and loving it SO much and his head is EMPTY and he has maybe the most insane orgasm of his life. shoots all over his chest with a cracked open sob hands white knuckled on vale’s shoulders….. doesn’t leave the bed for ten full hours after that….
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queenlua · 2 months ago
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hey lua what decks do phoenix aceattorney and miles aceattorney play in magic
PHOENIX WRIGHT
once upon a time, a friend bullied me into going to a Pro Tour Qualifier, which was probably the largest Magic tournament i’d ever been to at that time, right?
i was happy to be bullied, to be clear, but the problem was… i hadn’t played standard-format Magic competitively in about 2-3 years.  so my knowledge of the current metagame, what deck archetypes were popular, and what the current cards even were, was staggeringly limited.
“it will be fine,” said my friend.  “here, take this spare deck i built.  it’s super-straightforward and easy,” he lied.
he said this to me approx. 8 seconds before the first round began, so uhhhhh, i sure was playing a game of magical cards without ever having even looked at the damn deck before!
so, lo, literally in the course of playing the deck, i was learning how this shit was supposed to work.  “oh!” i’d exclaim with delight, halfway through my turn.  “THAT’S how those two cards are supposed to interact.  oh that’s super clever.  what a neat combo.”  and then i’d proceed to shiftily look at my opponent over my cards, riffle those cards a lil bit, and then say “pass” with as much of an enigmatic vibe as i could muster.
meanwhile, my opponent was Actually Prepared, and they were Trying To Win, and they were pissed.  they threatened to call Slow Play on me because i was taking so fucking long reading all the cards.  as in, he literally called a judge over, who stood there watching me the whole time, in order to determine if i was being Criminally Bad At Magic versus just A Regular Amount Of Bad At Magic, and i was sweating bullets the whole time because i didn’t know this deck or their deck or any of those cards and AHHHH why is the judge staring at me!!!
….which only served to make it EXTRA-humiliating for this poor fuck when i proceeded to eviscerate them 2-0.  hahahah get dunked onnnnnnnn nerd!!!
and then i also proceeded to eviscerate my next opponent???
sheer dumb luck.  i cannot overstate how ill-prepared i was for this tournament.  i absolutely did not deserve these wins.
meanwhile the friend who gave me the deck was having a much worse time with their deck, and they were like “what the fuck. you weren’t supposed to win. how are you winning with that shit, my deck’s so much better than yours”
anyway.  i think that’s the kind of scenario Phoenix would get into if he were an MtG player.  dude Gets Himself Into Situations And Then Uses Cleverness + Bullshit + Luck To Get Out Again.
(AA4-era Phoenix seems like he’s doing the same thing… but, in reality, he’s actually been meticulously crafting his deck in secret for the past six months.  he’s not even aiming to win the tournament, he’s just exploiting a known weakness in the opponent-matching system that lets him know with certainty who he’s going to get matched up against (spoiler: first round is Kristoph), and he’s hyper-optimizing his deck to beat Literally Only Those People.  meanwhile, Apollo, who built a tryhard hyper-optimized variant of Red Deck Wins, is lowkey annoyed that Phoenix's seemingly-random pile keeps vaulting him just one table above him in the standings, because Apollo knows his deck is better. he knows it!!!! just let him go 1v1 and prove it aaaaughhhh!!!)
((also, in case you want Actual Concrete Cards And Colors And Stuff: in general i think Phoenix prefers limited play (draft, sealed, "anything where you open booster packs on the spot & throw a deck together") to constructed play, because he doesn't like being tied down to any one game plan. when he does play constructed, i think he's less attached to a specific colors and more attached to specific mechanics. in particular: he's not a combo player exactly, but he likes mechanics that feel like bullshit. dude saw Madness for the first time & his eyes lit up & he was in LOVE, "you mean i'm discarding the card but then i can cast it for free??? hell YES." he absolutely ran a poison counter deck during New Phyrexia. ah fuck i just realized he was probably a huge stan for noted awful expansion Battle for Zendikar, i think i gotta cancel him now, sorry))
((and i think Phoenix also has a touch of Timmy in him! like, i went to a huge state tournament once with a bunch of really skilled players, and there was this one dude in our car who had a really solid deck, clearly adhered to a lot of the trends in the meta at the time... but his win condition was a Shivan Dragon. which wasn't a bad card at the time, it was a reasonable win condition, but it was... slightly suboptimal? not at all the obvious pick? sort of random? and multiple people asked him "why is that your win condition" & he shrugged and said "i like dragons." so the dragon stayed & that dude ended up getting second place in the whole tournament so FUCK optimal play, bring a dragon. i think Phoenix would sneak in a dragon now and again. just 'cause))
MILES EDGEWORTH
this one is trickier!!!
young!Miles is just going to play Whatever The Meta Deems To Be The Best Deck, right. the von Karma perfection thing and all. it's all very boring & micro-optimized to be the Best Deck Of Its Kind & he pours over the results of the big name tournaments week after week & does some math or whatever to hyper-optimize his own build of the Obviously Correct Deck. there is no soul in any of this, purely Executing On A Formula.
...but then he experiences Character Growth & has his big gay crisis & now he has to pick up the game again. he opens the latest tournament results... clicks around some win % stats for various cards in a desultory kinda way, and... his heart's just not in it, right?
enter 2-4 era Miles. 2-4 era Miles is playing some utterly unhinged Five Color Good Stuff thing. there's a lot of Planar Chaos cards in there, because that whole set was about Weird Shit & cards doing Stuff You're Familiar With (But In The Utterly Wrong Color!!!) & all that is resonating with Miles more than he'd care to admit. he cannot possibly talk about his unnecessary feelings but he can make a weird noise rock album about them. and by noise rock album i mean this fucking Magic deck.
and he's playing this deck with a 100% straight face, as though this is the exact same behavior that won him the Junior Super Series five years in a row & not a desperate cry for help from a madman. everyone else is like Miles... are you playing fucking singletons... in a fucking standard deck... you know your deck will be more consistent with four-ofs right... and then he gives a cool fish-eyed stare & taps out to cast some arcane bullshit legendary creature & gives a single rap of his knuckles against the table to indicate that he's passing the turn.
and it works, is the thing! all those years of training to be the Spikiest Spike Ever have paid off; this Five Color Good Stuff thing relies on some pretty clever insights to make the mana base work, and parts of what he's doing eventually get adopted by the larger metagame to become an Actual Serious Deck. but, like. it's still a monstrosity. any skilled players watching are still definitely wondering Are You Okay, Dude.
after 2-4, i think Miles settles back into playing something more normal. he still cares about winning, but he's going to do it with a touch of class. he wants a game that involves dialogue, some actual back-and-forth, because just trying to combo off is lame coward behavior.
aw yeah baby we're talking counterspells!!!
he's a blue player at heart & he's happiest when he's updating the autopsy report shutting down whatever his opponent's plan is. he'll splash other colors as the occasion calls for it, but he'd be happy running mono-blue the rest of his life. like, i ran a pretty fun Legacy deck back in the day which consisted of:
every kind of counterspell i could get my hands on,
propaganda because FUCK creatures,
thieving magpies for the card draw,
and a few silver wyverns to, y'know, actually win the game
...and i think Miles would appreciate that deck. just play counterspells until the opponent runs out of steam & then cruise your way to victory with a couple birds. simple. elegant. classic. doesn't involve any of this modern Planeswalker bullshit (Miles regards most developments that happened to MtG post-Time Spiral block or so as affronts to game design).
(i do think Miles has a secret fondness for sagas as a card type, however. they remind him of all that Character Growth, but in an abstract/subconscious/nonthreatening way. too bad most of them are a bit of poor match for the kinds of decks he likes to play)
FINALLY: i think Miles hates playing Commander with every fiber of his being & Phoenix loves it & this is a pretty serious point of contention in their relationship. poor dudes
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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago
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MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER Pt. 1
I know John Price would be the best Dad on earth but please let the Plot , ploting
Part 2
Your dad loved you; you were really sure he did, just not as much as he loved Tina, your younger sibling. You were the result of a one-night stand he had when he was 16, while Tina was a love child of your dad's new wife. You liked both of them; you really did. They treated you with respect; you stayed in their house while your dad was on deployment. So you couldn't really complain; they even let you stay while you did your apprenticeship, despite that you were over 20 now and full of age, but they made it clear: finish your apprenticeship and you're gone.
Your dad didn't say anything. Well, how could he, since he was always on some kind of mission, to save the planet or world? He was like a real-life Avenger. It just hurts sometimes when he misses certain events like your ballet performance, your appendix operation, your 18th birthday, and your graduation ceremony—the best of the whole year. But who cares about that when you have no one in the crowd to cheer for you?
The worst part? He did make time for Tina. He was at her elementary school graduation, at every birthday, and at her fencing competition, claiming it's not because he likes Tina more; it's just that fencing is more interesting than ballet. You would understand that, right? You were a good, smart girl. Of course, you would understand how important his job is, right? You're not a selfish little lady, he said.
For years, you thought he despised you, maybe because you were the spitting image of your dead mother or because you had the same interests as her but not like Tina. Tina was cool; she did fencing, wanted to join the military, and even got caught smoking weed. Your dad only laughed about this, telling her he did this too when he was young.
You and your dad didn't share the same interest; you liked everything that was hyper-feminine: ballet, pink, makeup, Taylor Swift. And you were becoming a midwife instead of a cool, badass soldier. His only expression was, "Are you sure, sweetie?" Of course, you were sure, and you thought your job was even more badass than his. You helped bring babies into the world; what could be better?
One day, you noticed he did love you. In fact, it was just harder to love someone at 17 than at 30, he said. He cried while saying this, begging you on his knees to forgive him for being such a crappy dad, and of course, you did. His affection and attention were almost like a drug to you; you didn't need weed when hearing "I'm proud of you, sweetie" did so much more to you.
It wasn't a surprise when you started to sleep with older men, craving the care and affection they could provide you with. The same affection you begged your whole life for. When your stepmother found out you got intimate with 40-year-old men every weekend, she told your dad, of course, that she did. And he was furious—more than furious. Giving you a lesson about safe sex—a bit too late for that, innit? And then he told you that he was disappointed in you, and it hurt even more than the neglect you needed to endure your whole life.
You were walking through the streets of Cardiff, enjoying the sight of your hometown; it was beautiful, especially at night. Suddenly, a man bumped into you—correct: the most handsome man you've ever seen in your life. He was tall with dark hair, mesmerizing eyes, tattoos and pale skin, and he was definitely old enough to be your type. Maybe that was the fairytale love story you ever dreamed of.
"I'm sorry, sir; my eyes aren't so strong in the dark."
He kissed your hand like you were some kind of royalty and smiled with the most charming smile. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to apologize," he said with a thick, beautiful Russian accent.
"Thank you, sir."
"Call me Vlad, princess," he said, and you told him your name, to which he replied that it was the most beautiful name he ever heard.
"Let me walk you home, princess. It's dangerous for a beautiful girl like you to walk on her own," he said with a cheeky grin.
"So you're from Russia? How is it there?"
"Beautiful; the nature is stunning. I live in Moscow, and you would love the architecture."
"I bet I would love it. If I have the opportunity to travel someday, I definitely will."
"Where would you go first, princess?"
"Hm, New York or maybe Sydney. No wait, the Alps. Ah, it's hard to decide, you?"
You mumbled while walking on the sidewalk; you didn't know why, but you felt safe like never before. Not even the dogs barked at him; he had this dark presence about him, but how he talked and behaved, letting you walk further away from the sidewalk, lending you his jacket, and caressing your finger with his thumb, made you feel safe and appreciated.
"I was almost everywhere in the world, but if I could decide, I'd say Moscow."
"Doesn't count; you live there." You pointed your tongue at him and threw a giggling fit.
"And who are you to decide this?"
"Like you said, a princess."
"And what does your Highness want?"
"Hm, ice cream."
You went to an ice cream place, both of you picking out an ice cream flavor; he insisted that he pay for your £2 ice like a gentleman, and you laughed.
"You're weird; chocolate-mint ice is a disgrace."
"It is good; taste it?"
"I won't."
You smeared the ice around your plump lips. "You sure don't want a taste now," you said, hinting at a kiss. He smirked and leaned in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, but there was so much passion behind the kiss and so much longing that you immediately moaned, making a fool of yourself. After what felt like hours, you split, trying to catch your breath.
"that was-"
"Intense"
You nodded before pulling into another kiss. The 10-minute walk home took 3 hours since you stopped every second, demanding his attention, and he gave it to you so willingly. You arrived at your door.
"So this is my door."
He kissed you one last time, "Sorry Princess," and then he pulled you into him, holding something against your nose, but before you could react, you were already far gone.
You brought him to your place, Price's house, with what he wanted; he wanted to kill every three of you, make a massacre, and then leave them for Price to see. But you were confusing him; he liked your presence; sure, he was just a man, and he knew you were the type of woman he watched when beating his meat, but normally attractiveness wouldn't affect him, especially not with Price's daughter. But you were nice to him even though you didn't know he was fucking Vladimir Makarov, so his plan changed; he needed to break you or have you and then rub it under Price's face that you were his now.
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