#and im going to have to tell her she's fucking right : /

[postmoderntongues]

I will fight a male 3x my size (usually not WIN, but still FIGHT) half a pitcher and three bumps into the night if my fight or flight gets activated and i feel like I have the option not to default to fawn. I am 5'10 260 and would not fight a four and a half foot dike with a double digit weight. I almost threw hands in a dive bar with my buddy's ex 22 minutes into the year i was hearing kill bill sirens i didnt live in that town and had nothing illegal on me i could get in a drunk new years bar fight and do community service county jail at worst and im the only one i know other than Chay's people and some college friends who hasn't been there and most likely if i was going anywhere itd be to a psych ward which i can do on my head and then her Dike intervened and I was like okay bro im not swinging its a free country and ima keep talking tho (and trying to get her to swing on me) but im not threatening anybody don't get the wrong idea (i wanted to be like *brother, my brother song form the first pokemon movie playing softly in the background* we are one in the same ive been you and you've been me so many times at this point in our lives you know how it goes doing the big bulldike thing pining after some reckless straight girl you know no woman deserves to be slapped by a man but be serious and tell me you know her as well as you claim to and there aren't a few things in her past where if another female just gave her a good old fashioned 3 stooges bop on her messy head on the deck of a dive bar it might not be completely unjustified).

Like the second this girl intervened i was like nope not doing this and then just yelled shit at the ex all night every time she tried to come back to the bar partially bc i was mad she was the reason my buddy wasnt there, i was mad she was the reason i couldnt hook up with this cute guy with more drugs and a tattoo gun at his place a few blocks away the night before bc he was the one who ruined their marriage, and also I was on a lot of stimulants for a few days in a row at that point and under stimulated and had nothing else to do to entertain myself because my people went to a drag bar and i didnt want to pay the $8 cover so i didn't know anybody and it was my first time in a bar as a single female and now i was totally unaccompanied and in a weird panicked way i thought maybe getting a little rambunctious or at least giving the impression i was ready to would keep me safe until my people came back and then later she came back and tried to intimidate me with 4 guys who were like 5'8 on their dating profile prolly and smaller than me mass wise and they were like you good? and i wa slike yea whats good you good and they were like no are you GOOD? n i was like yeah why are you good? and then i saw her and i was like you went and got dudes you really cant handle yourself as a woman and then some low blows im less proud of and then the bar closed and i got an invite to go to an afterparty and wound up getting into a great phone call with my cousin and didn't spend the night potentially joining the great majority in the same ER everybody would go for ODs before narcan because I didn't get into a dike fight that night.

I was flirting with this girl when we saw a movie together with some friends and she was flirting a lot back and like was holding my hand and sitting in my lap at one point and then my boy a few days later was like "u know shes married right" and i was like idgaf ill peg him and he was like "no she has a wife" and I was like dude if you tell a single soul what u saw at the movies ill straight up fist u, you do not say i bought her the fucking cup of tea, as far as you know she didn't get a single one of my gummy worms. In fact, both you AND chris sat between us. I don't fuck with other womens partners but i ESPECIALLY don't involve myself in dike drama. Most guys ive cucked are like kind of cool with it nd into it to some degree because males are lower animals and also perverted and fetishize lesbianism. The rest mostly just curse you out. A few will hit you. Getting shot or stabbed isn't something that's never happened in the history of lesbian fuckboys ignoring het relationships when pursued by a cute girl. Now look up the Shanda Sharer case and compare that to an infamous crime by male kids of the same age like most school shootings or even most male serial killers and ask which you'd rather die in. Best case scenario if you get involved creeping around on a lesbian your life becomes one of the bummer non-supernatural Junji ito comics but there's not an insignificant chance that your last moments will be a lot more Waita Uziga.

I fear no male. I fuck with no dike.

You're talking to somebody who once got back with a girl not in spite of the fact but literally BECAUSE she stabbed me through my jeans in the cafeteria with a pen or pencil or something (it wasn't like a big injury but the thing stuck upward in my leg and drew a miniscule drop or two of blood when i squeezed at it and put a hole in my jeans that my mom noticed but i have no doubt that when she did it she did it with the intention of driving the thing through to the bone if shed been physically able) and I was like wow thats passionate her feelings for me are strong and like 2 periods later i'd broken up with the girl i was rebounding with who she was jealous of and stabbed me over and was back with her.

I had a brief girlfriend freshman year who would literally just cut me like on the bricks in front of the dorm building where we'd smoke while she was drunk and i was either rolling or tripping or tweaking and all the punk guys i was friends with were horrified by it and then i justified it by comparing myself to GG Allen who I didn't even listen to i just know he cut onstage and these guys wouldn't know who Lucifer Valentine was so it was the most appropriate reference.

The most sadistic consensual lays ive ever had in my life were NOT cismales.

My ex's best friend also had a mentally ill bulldike doing the reverse-LUG college comphet thing as a girlfriend and she was the best but she'd make u put ur cig out on her if u smoked around her when she drank certain weekends bc she was always trying to top her score as were a bunch of the other rugby dikes who were like literally my favorite people ever to party with bc they were all heavy drinkers and i was an alcohol lightweight and i was heavy into club drugs and tripping so they were impressed by the quantities of that that i'd be on and it was like making contact with friendly foreigners but because the team captain was dating my ex's bestie we kind of shared territory and i was there for most of their first trip/roll and they taught me the fun drinking songs and a bunch of them were in the german program so i always had people on good terms to work with in a very socialization-based course and then a bunch of them started working at this evil strip club that had free womens wendsdays and a free salad bar so all summer us girls would go there for lunch every wednesday and talk to our friends who were there when it was dead and tip them like $5 or whatever we could manage a head for the salad bar since it was free and the place was empty other than us so we absorbed this large group of strippers most of whom were sapphic or at the very least so uninterested in sexual attention outside of work that they were mad fun to party with meanwhile the males all started working at this local bar and absorbed the townies including most of the bouncers and kitchen workers who also party like rockstars and the girls who came from there were also for the most part not straight and these girls were so nice and we had such a good time but also id apologize if i bumped into these fuckers in a dream i would not dare get wrong with one

again i regard no male, I disrespect no dike

[4milly]

warm my bed — jey u. (1/3)

warnings; stalking, oc is delusional but so is jey, continuous break ups, smut, creampie, sex while sleeping, forced impregnation, oc is toxic, dark themes on OC's part, oral (m) receiving, cheating, p in v,

parings; zariah x jey uso

in my head, even if you tell me its over...i'll pretend you told me im your all.

jey let out a harsh breath. all he wanted to do was go inside and have a quiet night in—a little r&r. all of that went down the fucking drain soon as he laid eyes on someone his heart once held love for.

zariah.

lord forgive him, but was she bat shit crazy. in the last year, zariah turned jey's life into a living hell. the jealously was too much for him; cursing him out for interacting with female fans, stealing his phone, hacking into his socials, blocking people, getting into it with instagram ho's in his comments, she even got into an encounter with sexy red leading to her being escorted out the arena.

no matter how many times jey told her, it was only her—and it was—she didn't believe him. but breaking into his house? that was the last straw. he knew he looked crazy in the eyes, when you picked up a pair of panties from in-between the couch cushions and called him everything but a child of God.

and whole time they were hers.

he knew it was best to just call it quits than continue the cycle. so 2 nights ago, he packed up your things and as calm as he could, sent you on your way. in a perfect world? you went peacefully. but nah. in this world? you smashed his car windows and keyd your name into the side door.

you loved jey. truthfully! could you get a little crazy sometimes? sure. but in zariah's mind, her actions were justified. after all, jey was hers—her soulmate, her destiny. she'd known it from the moment they locked eyes across that crowded club last year. the electricity that crackled between them, the way the world seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them—that was fate. and fate couldn't be denied.

jey's head fell in his hands at the sight of zariah standing in his kitchen cooking...nothing but her apron covering her, "finally! i've been waiting, c'mere baby."

didn't he take her set of keys?

part of jey wanted to scoop her up, take her inside, and forget this whole bullshit. the way her ass curved perfectly, that small butterfly tattoo on her lower back, and the smell of her juices...he wanted to rip that apron right off her. but the rational part of his brain—the part that remembered the broken windows and the scratched-up car—kept him rooted to the spot.

"z, y'know you ain't supposed to be her. y'know that shit."

but zariah wasn't havin' it. she stepped closer, perfume wrapping around him like a familiar blanket, "how was work, baby?"

was her ears clogged or sum? she know her ass heard him. "z, what are doing here?"

confusion and betrayal flashed across zariah's eyes, "baby, i'm home. where else would i be? i cooked your favorite, daddy...and I can't wait to feed everything to you."

fuck, he loved that shit.

jey felt his resolve waverin'. the way she looked at him, all big eyes and pouty lips, had his mind spinnin'. for a hot second, he almost believed her—almost forgot the chaos of the past year, the constant drama, the jealousy that ate away at their relationship like acid.

zariah slid her arms around his waist pulling him to her. he felt her hardened nipples poking at him through the cottoned fabric, "z, when i packed yo shit, that met we done. im tired of this shit witcho ass."

zariah ain't give up that easy though. she pressed her body against his, soft curves meltin' into his hard muscles, "we both know you're lying. why don't i take this apron off? hm? i'm always so ready for you daddy. i'll let you cum anywhere you want."

jey's breath caught in his throat as she nibbled on his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine. his body was betraying him, responding to her touch like it always did.

"nah, z. we can't keep doin' this," he protested weakly, but his hands found their way to her hips anyway, "we do this every other week."

before he could stop her, she was on her knees, lookin' up at him with those big doe eyes. her freshly painted manicured fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper.

"z, hold up—" jey started, but the words died in his throat as she freed him from his boxers.

zariah licked her lips, eyes locked on his as she stroked him. "mm, i missed this dick, baby."

jey's head fell back as she took him in her mouth, her tongue swirling around him like she was tryna map every inch. the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped him.

z's lips wrapped around him tight, her tongue working magic as she took him deeper. jey couldn't help the low groan that escaped him, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"fuck, baby," he breathed, hips bucking involuntarily

z hummed around him, the vibrations sending sparks through his body. she pulled off with a pop, lookin' up at him with fire in her eyes. "that's right, daddy. this is my dick. it's all mine." her hand kept stroking him as she spoke, her grip firm and sure making sure to pull on the fat mushroomed tip.

before jey could respond, she took him deep again, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked hard. her free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently as she bobbed her head.

jey's hips started moving on their own, thrusting into the wet heat of her mouth. jey knew he shoulda stopped this, but his body was on autopilot now. she swallowed him down again, taking him to the back of her throat. jey's knees nearly buckled as she worked him over, her head bobbin' up and down while her hand twisted at the base.

her tongue swirled around his tip before she took him back in, moaning around his length. the vibrations had jey seeing stars, "goddamn, girl." he panted feeling his legs shake and his stomach tighten

when his toes began to curl in his shoes, jey powered to find one active brain cell. he began to shake his head, "zariah stop! ah, shit i'm finna—"

she pulled off again, jerking him with her hand as she spoke, "shh. you see how good i make you feel? nobody can make you feel like this. you're all mine."

z's mouth was back on him, suckin' him like her life depended on it. her tongue swirled around the tip before she took him deep again, throat relaxing to take all of him. her free hand snaked around to grab his ass, pulling him deeper.

jey threw his head back on a moan, when she tickled that spot underneath his balls, causing him to erupt into her mouth. his grip on her hair tightened as he kept shooting spurts out. zariah gave him small sucks; ensuring he emptied ever piece of doubt of their relationship into her throat.

the sight of her heavily glossed covered lips suctioned around his dick gave him nothing but guilt. he should've kicked her ass out for this shit. how does someone destroy his car, breaks into his house, and sucks the soul from his dick in less than 72 hours?

zariah smirked up at jey, a string of cum connecting her lips to his softening dick. "that was just the appetizer, baby," she purred, rising to her feet

before jey's post-nut clarity could kick in, zariah was pushing him backwards. he stumbled, legs weak, 'til the back of his knees hit the couch and he fell onto it with her straddling him with a wild look in her eyes.

"i ain't done with you yet, daddy," she giggled, grinding against him. even though he just came, jey felt himself getting hard again.

"z, hold up—" jey started, but she silenced him with a deep kiss, her tongue swirling in his mouth. she tasted like strawberries and his own cum, a combination that had his head spinning

"shh, baby," zariah whispered against his lips. "just let me take care of you."

she reached between them, guiding him to her entrance. jey groaned as she sank down on him, her wet heat comforting him inch by inch. his hands gripped her hips on instinct, fingers digging into her soft flesh.

"fuck, z," he breathed as she started to move, rolling her hips in a slow, torturous rhythm

jey's head was racing and still hazy, caught between the floaty feeling of his orgasm and the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea. but damn if zariah didn't feel this good, he could've pushed her off.

"you see how good we are together?" zariah whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, "how we're made for each other?"

he could barely speak with her pussy clentching around him like that. zariah picked up the pace, riding jey hard and fast. her hips moved in tight circles, grinding down on him with each stroke. jey's eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by the sensation. his hands roamed her body, gripping her ass and kneading her breast as she bounced on his lap. muscle memory taking over as he cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. zariah threw her head back with a moan, arching into his touch.

"that's right, daddy," she breathed, "touch me. i'm all yours."

she picked up the pace, riding him faster, harder. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their heavy breathing and occasional moans. jey felt like he was floating. her walls hugged his dick just right. he moved his hips to meet your owns.

he let out a grunt as he felt that familiar clench in his abdomen again, "shit! you take it so good, z. imma nut again. fuck! slow down, z."

zariah threw her head back, crying out in pleasure as her own release neared. you manage to slip your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, "fuck, baby! yes, just like that!"

the couch creaked beneath them, barely able to withstand their frenzied movements. his hips kept thrusting up to meet her, chasing that sweet release.

she bounced' on his dick like her life depended on it. the sound of skin slapping' filled the room, mixed with their heavy breathing and low moans.

"tell me you're mine," zariah demanded, her voice breathy but firm. "say it, jey. tell me you belong to me. this pussy belongs to you, and you belong to me."

she was chasing her own release, but she was determined to make him cum first. her walls clenched around him, milking' his dick like she was tryna squeeze every last drop outta him. and she was.

he loved how you squeezed his length as loud mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper.

"i'm yours, mama. i'm all yours, baby. shit! z, i love yo crazy ass." he gasped out

jey's hips bucked up involuntarily, meeting her thrust for thrust. His hands gripped her ass tight, guiding her movements as he felt his second orgasm approaching fast.

a triumphant smile spread across zariah's face as she clamped down onto him with a whimper, flooding him with her orgasm. she slipped her tongue into his mouth and let out a groan as he released every drop of his cum into her without thinking twice.

they stayed like that for a moment. as the fog of pleasure began to clear, reality came crashing down on jey like a bucket of ice water. he blinked, suddenly all too aware of the situation he'd let himself get into. zariah was still on top of him, her body slick with sweat, kissing down his neck, a satisfied smile on her face, and their cum seeping onto his couch.

"fuck," Jey muttered, gently pushing her off him. "z, this…this can't happen again. i'm forreal."

what the fuck had he just done?

he'd let her in again, let her work her magic on him like always. and now here they were, right back where they started. jey groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"baby, what's wrong?" zariah murmured, nuzzling into his neck

jey stood up, fumbling to pull his pants back on. his head was spinning, guilt and regret mixing with the lingering pleasure. "nah, z. this? was a mistake. you gotta go, ma."

zariah's expression darkened. "what do you mean, 'a mistake'? you just told me you loved me. you said you were mine."

"I wasn't thinkin' straight. i ain't a fuckin' prize, z." jey ran a hand over his face. "look, i meant what i said before. we're done. forreal this time. ight? getcho stuff, i'll take you anywhere you wanna go."

zariah's face dropped, her sweet demeanor evaporating in an instant, "we belong together, jey! y'know we do. y'think, i'm gonna let all those little insta ho's have you? so easy? no! you're mine. what? you wanna move one of those bitches in?"

"oh my fucking god, mane! y'see? this that shit i'm calm bout, zariah! this jealousy shit! i ain't fuckin' no other bitches, yet yo ass can't see that shit! i'm tired of yo ass, bruh."

jey turned around to gather her stuff. he met what he said; zariah had to get her shit and go. and she had to leave naked? that's fine, too. when he heard a sniffle behind his back, he exasperated. here come this fake ass cryin'.

"i hate you so bad, jey," she sobbed, "i love you so much it hurts. all i want to know is if you still love me. if you're still inlove with me, josh...but, at least get me towel,"

jey sighed, shoulders slumping as he turned back to face zariah. his words caught in his throat as his eyes landed on her splayed out on the couch, legs spread wide.

their mixed cum was seeping out of her swollen pussy, glistening in the low light. it dripped down onto the expensive leather, creating a messy puddle. she ran a hand down her body, fingertips trailing over her breast, down her stomach, until they reached her slick folds.

"look what you did to me, daddy," she whined out, still sniffling her tears away. she dipped two fingers inside herself, coating them in their combined fluids before bringing them to her lips. her tongue darted out, licking them clean as she maintained eye contact with jey.

zariah knew exactly what buttons to push, how to play him like a finely-tuned instrument—

"i promise, i'll stop being bad." she pouted, sucking her fingers coated with her slick into her mouth

how many times has he heard that shit before?

—she always had.

🏷️: @caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23 @usoinked @punksyeet @fearlesschimera @holycollectivekitty @tribalhoochie

to be added for future writings, comment! don’t forget to like and reblog 🩷

this will be 3 (maybe 4) part fic, so warnings will update as we go. this fic will have some dark themes, as i’ve been inspired by @shes2real to embrace a few of them tbh😩🙏.

and in honor of my birthday being on the 15th (this wednesday) here is a treat!

xoxo, cleo.

[goingdownondaisuke]

Girrrrl pls write more mouth washing headcannons like you just did 🙏🙏 truly you are a good writer and I enjoy your posts (I saw your intro and happy belated birthday!!)

thank you so much anonny!! so sweet :) i honestly love you for this request bc that means i can ramble on and on and be super unserious 👅 i'll section this off into two, nsfw and sfw!! (adding the read more link bc this is long!)

୨⎯ sfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

strikes me heavily as the "stay at home and rot" typa gal

and she's so real for that!!!

dates w her would definitely consist of little picnics, sitting by the lake and having deep talks, stargazing, pottery, library dates, all that good stuff >0<

she's totally slavic

i can't exactly put my finger on it but she gives russian/polish

will def give you nicknames in her one of those! (im not listing any bc im gonna be so embarrassed if i butcher my own language 😭)

if you're good at it, she loves when you braid her hair or do it up in fancy styles, she'll wear it for literally the rest of the day

LOVES seeing you all dressed up

like if you have a job that requires you to dress formally, and you walk out that bathroom with a dress shirt and slacks on??? ur gonna be a little late for work

she makes GREAT pasta dishes

vodka pasta, shrimp/chicken alfredo, mac n cheese, lasagna, gnocchi, YUMM

likes baking as well, but isnt very good

the most impressive thing she's ever made was chocolate chunk cookies that had literal pockets of gooey chocolate

can you tell im hungry

she's toned asl

loves the gym!

i feel like she dresses modestly for the most part in public but at home she'll wear crop tops and teeny shorts

definitely the type of person to give great advice but never use it

likes your voice, will say whatever to get you to talk (even better if you're someone who just talks and talks and talks) (me)

very comforting to talk to

WOULD NEVER JUDGE YOU OMG

you almost ran someone over? we've all been there!!

you actually ran someone over? why were they jaywalking??!

they died on the spot? ...get the boat.

i feel like she displays all of the love languages

but her main one would be words of affection i think

calls you love, dear, darling, all that sappy mush

wife!!!!!

curly ۶ৎ

ever since i've read what the devs said abt him liking snow sports i genuinely cannot stop imagining this guy skiing or snowboarding w you LMAO

but besides his love for that, he likes summery sports as well!!

like surfing, volleyball, badminton, tennis, golf, etc

dont take this in a weird way but i rlly just see him as the sugar daddy type

like yes he's your significant other BUT he's a good-looking man who looks a bit older, so if you look a lot younger than him than yeah ppl are gonna raise an eyebrow

but they have the right to bc every time you two go out he buys you something expensiveee

showers you in jewelery

he loves the beach!! (same)

definitely the type to massage sunscreen on you EWWWW (im kicking my feet)

he likes to give you massages in general, those strong ass hands be at WORK!!!!

my friend said he looks german and i can't get it out my mind, pls gimme opinions bc i totally agree 😭

sosososo nice and friendly and caring

loves taking you out on cruises, swanky resorts, michelin-star restaurants, the works

and if you like to workout he takes you on gym dates

my favourite

sometimes when he doesn't feel like going he'll just use you as a weight lol

likes randomly lifting you up

loves to listen to you ramble while he's cooking

good at cooking!!

calls you darling, princess, baby, beautiful

gentleman!!!

daisuke ۶ৎ

dream gen z bf

has a skincare routine he does with you every night

and if you arent there with him in person he'll facetime/video call you so he can "make sure you're doing all the right steps"

(he just wants to admire your LETHAL face card)

pothead >0<

this man takes you on dates GALORE

the arcade, thrifting, the mall, walmart (if they in walmart together they fucking RAW /ref), go karts, amusement parks, the beach, more i can't think of

likes when you do his makeup/give him a full glam makeover, it's so fun to him

lots of piercings

you HAVE to have a good relationship with his parents (saw this somewhere on ao3!)

has HUNDREDS of pictures of you in his gallery

has pics of you sleeping, cooking, walking, eating, watching tv, doing work, drinking, just existing

the type of mf to take like a thousand pictures of himself if you leave your phone around him

his love language is 100% physical touch and sending sappy ass tiktoks/instagram reels/everything else

LIVES ON SOCIAL MEDIA

he totally has like a fashion acct and it's just him trying on clothes and giving reviews

he has an impressive following!!

omg speaking of fashion, THIS MAN.

he's not like wisdom kaye level (one of his biggest inspos) but he can DRESSS

he'd totally judge you for wearing like socks and sandals or something utterly unacceptable

"girl. take those ripped skinny jeans OFF."

kinda like swansea is, i can see him being a sneakerhead (no i am not projecting)

calls you babe, dude, pretty girl if he's feeling freaky

jimmy ۶ৎ

he's such a pos i need him so fucking bad

he tries to clean up for you

shaves more, wears cheap cologne, tries to keep his home as clean as possible (which...isn't very clean)

is EXTREMELY dependent on you, esp if you're well off

loves getting high with you

off of VARIOUS substances 😭

mostly powder or acid but you two will shoot up from time to time

you've bailed him out of jail several times

committing crime dates!!! like

oh and yk eating out (at mcdonalds off the dollar menu), road trips (in his rusty ass truck), facetime/videocalls (his phone is so fucked up, his internet is horrible, and his camera quality is disgusting) whatever

hes so pathetic but he loves you so so so much

even if he doesn't display it like a normal person

his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation

because that's all he can afford

very jealous, the two of you got into an argument once bc he thought you were looking at curly

tries to keep him away from you as much as possible

dont hate me for this but he definitely abuses his partners

psychologically, physical, verbally, sexually

but i dont care we love you jimmy!!

tbh most of the headcanons i have for him are nsfw, hence why this list is so short

im sorry!!!

swansea ۶ৎ

now THIS is a sugar daddy

(he's not technically bc you don't use him for money) (you better not.)

anyway!!!

he absolutely LOVES to take you out on fancy dates

likes travelling!!!

i can see him being a big fan of italy, germany, thailand, the bahamas

(psa: guys once before you die you HAVE to go to the bahamas omg its so freaking lovely and the locals are very very sweet :) )

oh he definitely enjoys a leisurely game of golf

he's such a sweetheart like he'll make you breakfast in bed and cook you a romantic candle-lit dinner and give you back massages and urghh

gives THE most insightful advice

actually super smart, will help you with any college work you have

his strong suits are math and science!

very good at cooking, devs themselves said he makes a mean paella!

i can see him being rlly good at cooking cultural food

like dont let this man make butter chicken or pad thai 👅 it will be GONE.

he admires you very often! you're so beautiful!! yes you!!!

he really likes it when you cuddle him

like aww imagine he's just watching something on his macbook and then here you come curling up next to him

AWWW I LOVE HIM

he's not super affectionate himself but if he notices it makes you happy then he'll try to show you that he loves you more physically

his love language is gift giving/quality time

having long talks with you is a must, especially when you are tuckered and all snuggled in your bed, and the tv's on but you aren't paying attention to the plotless show because you're too focused on listening to each others life stories, revealing little bits of lessons you've learned and why the way you are

ily swansea

୨⎯ nsfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

very gentle

unless she's like super into it then she'll start gripping your thighs or tonguing you down more intensely

she def watches porn when you aren't around and imagines the actors are you and her

but only the amateur lesbian type. that produced shit makes her cringe and uncomfortable

lots of toys!!1!=1

has the softest cutest moans

isn't particularly loud in bed, the loudest you'll get from her is a long, shaky whimper

loves giving head!!!

she literally has a fucking waterpark like she gets SO wet

not the easiest to turn on, which is why sex is uber intimate and precious to and with her

she's very sensitive and he orgasms are intense

also doesn't have the best stamina, will go literally two rounds before she's knocked tf out

PILLOW TALK

ughh she can't keep her lips off of you

even when you two aren't making love she's always kissing you somewhere

do NOT let her get a hold of a strap-on.

her stroke game is so freaking good like where does she get the experience??!

she likes your tits, her hands are always on them even in non-sexual situations

no matter their shape and size, she thinks they were sculpted by the gods

she thinks you were sculpted by the gods!!!

if you're super loud in bed then you're in luck bc she can't get enough!! she cant!!

she only initiates if you two are laying down, she'll wrap her arm around you and kiss your jaw

then she'll ask "is this okay?"

HELL YEA

curly ۶ৎ

oh man

he's 100% the type to put you in the most absurd positions

one i think about him doing all the time is like he'll be standing and he'll be drilling into you while you're UPSIDE DOWN

he's such a gentle giant, if you like it rough you'll have to beg him to stop being so nice

makes the hottest noises when you give him head

aughh he'd totally shut his eyes and keep a hand tangled in your hair and curse under his breath and buck his hips

when he initiates, it's always by lovingly running his big hands up and down your waist and pressing tender kisses to your neck while he whispers "i love you" and "so beautiful" in your ear

ooh that'll do it!!

you trying to initiate though? literally just kiss his neck and all of a sudden you're on your back

you call him "grant" when things start to get hot

like imagine moaning "curly"

doesnt watch any porn whatsoever

if he's horny and alone he'll just pleasure himself thinking about you

very very romantic, don't let this man find out it's valentine's day or your birthday or ANY holiday for that matter

like yk those tiktoks where someone is showing off a hotel room that their spouse decorated all romantically for their birthday, and then it cuts to the morning after and everything is all messed up after a few rounds?

YEAH THATS CURLY

for the love of god PLEASE SIT ON HIS FACE

likes risky/public sex

definitely part of the mile high club

loves fucking you in the kitchen

he seems like the type to grope you

but in a 'husbandly' way

like before he leaves for work he'll kiss you and smack your rear

or while you're cooking dinner he'll just squeeze your tits/ass

he loves ur ass!! i see him as an ass man

LMAO ASS MAN

good stamina, can go a FEW rounds

he will ALWAYS let you come first. no exceptions except for when you're sucking him off

he's so fucking good at giving head it's genuinely unbelievable

he likes his nipples played with

guys i NEED you to hear me out on this, he'd eat your ass/he likes anal

BUT LIKE ONLY IF YOU WANTED

but c'monnn don't tell me he wouldn't spit on it and get it real wet before slipping it in

daisuke ۶ৎ

THE freak of mouthwashing

canonically he's always horny lol

other ppl say he'd be a virgin but i cant see it 😭 he been to all those parties and he looks that good, are you sure he didn't get him some?!

watched a shit ton of porn before you two got together

and lemme tell you

HE DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE

big ass, petite, goth, ebony, asian, latina, blonde, brunette, bbw, interracial, WHATEVER.

enough of that

he's soooo noisy and sensitive like it doesn't make ANY sense

ESPECIALLY from head like he'll be gripping the bed/couch and moaning like a girl into the air and his thighs will be twitching and-

loves to edge himself

like if you're sucking him off and he's close, he'll tug your head off of him and take a breather before letting you do your thing again

LOVES recording you

literally i can see him downloading snapchat for the sole purpose of the 'my eyes only' feature

he's absolutely down for anything you wanna do

he would let you peg him tbh

gives super sloppy head

like it's not bad but he's just so eager and excited to please you that he gets kinda carried away

his tongue piercing feels so good

he noticed how much you loved it so he bought a vibrating one

literally wants sex like everyday and his stamina is insane

GENUINELY he can go all night

worships tf outta you

he is so obsessed w you and loves you so much like pls ride his face

dry humping is a lost art and he is bringing it BACK

he's like a fucking dog he's so noisy and messy and sloppy and horny and ugh

i love him so much he's literally me

jimmy ۶ৎ

extremely rough

like hardcore shit

he will actually choke you until you pass out and then fuck your unconscious body

same with whenever you go down on him, he hold you there until he feels your body go limp and then fuck your face

he loves getting head so fucking much

he has lots of...philias

i REFUSE to name any of them pls

intense groper

complete disregards the idea of consent

he's gonna take what he wants, whenever he wants it

and im okay w that!! 😻

wakes you up with head every morning

has a super high sex drive

the littlest, stupidest things turn him on

you spilled water on yourself? he's hard. you burnt your hand from super hot tap water and yelped? he's hard. he sees you cry? he's hard.

his stroke game is actually insane

if his goal was to make you finish (it's typically not) he'd succeed in a very short amount of time

he likes anal and he doesn't care if you like it either

ugh he doesn't even lube you up correctly

he just spits on it and goes on

he loves when you mark him up

leaves insane hickeys like that mf will look like you got SOCKED

he totally bites...just look at him

has sickkkk fantasies and expects you to mold yourself to all of them

likes torturing you for no reason whatsoever

he has a bunch of whips and paddles

something i always imagine him doing is coming home from a long day of work, pulling down his pants the minute that he sees you, and just going at it

swansea ۶ৎ

he would spank you

just to get that out the way

like if you're pissing him off he'll tell you to bend over his lap and he'll strike your ass until it's flushed red and tears are streaming down your face

but it's okay because then he'll kiss you all over and fuck you oh so nicely after

he's kind of but not really the brat tamer type

ehhh

as i said before: pussy slapping, face slapping, clit pinching GALORE >0<

kinda mean

like a mixture of praise and degradation

he likes when you spread your legs wide for him

sex drive is not high whatsoever

i mean he's like 50

neither is his stamina 😣 but he gives it to you super good

he usually just lets you ride his thigh or has a snack between your legs

he's so good at fingering

like imagine just sitting on his lap writhing around while two thick fingers are plunging into you and two more are rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit

loves kissing you during the act, he knows it makes you feel good

loveeess seeing you squirt/cream

he loves your moans as well, they're so cute to him and they're letting him know that he's doing a good job pleasuring his baby

he honestly believes that his job as your partner is to please you as much as possible

and he does that

girthy as FUCK

doesn't make a lot of noise

but when he's close he'll grunt quite a bit

another position i imagine he likes is one where you're lying on your side and your leg is in the air, and he has a grip on it while he fucks the shit outta you ahhh

after the deed you two will lay down and simply make out while his hands roam your body

that's how it starts sometimes too!!!

[k31raaa]

|eating out jinx to help her relax

this is unfortunately pretty basic as ive re fractured my wrist😭 just some lovely pussy eating and some sweet fluff scattered in

jinx is red text, ur pink xx

Jinx has been sat at her work bench for, well you would guess around 18 hours. you have barely heard a peep out the blue haired girl, a simple “love you, be safe!” could be heard when you informed her you were going out to the market. she needs a BREAK. she would never take one herself, so you took matters into your own hands.

You tiptoed from the bed and over to your girlfriend, who was sitting in a beautifully unique sitting pose as per usual. she had “get jinxed!” playing in a low volume while she hummed along, tapping her thumb to the beat. you slipped your arms over her shoulders, immediately pressing a simple smooch onto the space under her ear. you could tell she was over worked by the slowed movements unlike her usual fast, unpredictable ones. she tilted her head to look at you with a smile that just made you melt. “hey cutie” her eyes resemble that time you two got unbelievably stoned together. you smiled back. “you uh, almost.. done?.. i miss you.” you said in the sweetest voice you could yet it still betrayed the confusion you felt, you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what’s taking so much of your girlfriends time that should be spent on you. she looked guilty, she clearly felt bad, which obviously made your heart ache. you didn’t come here with the goal to upset her, maybe.. make her cry for another reason. and thats what you did.

“a-ah, fuck, right t-there!” she says in the most deliciously whiny tone, hands ruthlessly grabbing at your scalp, filling your head with the perfect burn, one that makes you grind your throbbing clit into anything in reach. your tongue flicked in a perfect pattern to have jinx forgetting all about her silly project, and to focus on the fact you slipped one or two fingers into her dripping hole. sick of watching in awe while it clench onto nothing but itsself , while ur fingers did nothing but try to run from the temptation of stuffing yourself full. each noise you couldnt fully swallow down vibrates against her pussy as you skill fully made out with it, spending plenty of time in your favourite place to of fully memorised what jinx adores. “c-coming, baby, mmph, shitt-!” she cut herself off with a silent scream. the way her back arched your surprised it didnt snap. her gummy walls tightened so hard you couldn’t thrust your fingers anymore, thinking they might pop off if you pulled too hard. you weren’t planning on stopping just yet but the way she panted and shoved your head away you decided to play nice, pressing one last kiss to her clit as your kissed trailed up, stopping on her cheek as you pulled her weak, small frame into your arms, cooing as she clawed at your arm for an unknown reason. probably a desperate attempt to ground herself from cloud 8. your hand gently scratches at the base of her scalp while you fill her ears up with the kindest words she used to only dream of hearing.

yeahokay sorry this is shit. i started it at 6am and its now 6:43am. IM TIRED and my wrist hurts. i love you guys, take care 💚

[bijouxcarys]

Reina de mi Corazón (Damian Priest x fem!OC)

Masterlist WWE Masterlist

Description: She's the light of his life, the itch he can't scratch... and his bretherin's main squeeze.

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, Kayfabe-compliant, sort of infidelity, semi-public shenanigans, Finn is a prick, I feel like pre-Rhea returning Liv Morgan should be considered a warning, so there you go...

A/N: Here, the fem!OC has no name; can be read as x reader without the use of Y/N. Also, I am not a native Spanish speaker, I know some, but please correct me on any inaccuracies!

Tags: @eringobragh420 @new-zealand-chic @terrortwinunicorn @hellonheels-x @loki69zowens

@thefairywithboots

(If you want to be tagged in any future Damian or Roman stories, please let me know!)

“Ya know, I’m havin’ a real hard time understandin’ why you can’t just get over it.”

“Get over it?!”

“Don’t yell at me.”

She spun around to come face to face with the blue-eyed Irishman she’d dedicated her life for the past year to, and just grimaced at the completely vacant look on his face. As though he didn’t understand what the issue was.

“Then stop being such a fucking pushover, Finn, it’s not hard! You go out there, you stand in front of Dom, you tell her to back off and then…” She scoffed, putting a hand on her hip as she lowered her voice to a vicious whisper. “Then you think it’s a smart idea to just let her ride with us tonight, are you insane?” 

If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn she saw a look of guilt flash before Finn’s eyes. But she did know better, by the grace of God, did she know better by now. She’d learned months ago that he was vying for chaos, a reason to feel a fraction powerful. Now with Rhea gone, it just meant one less around to anchor him to the ground of mediocrity.

She just never expected to catch him inadvertently encouraging Dom to consider Liv’s constant advances.

“Oh, come off it,” Finn groaned, rolling his eyes. “You coulda come out there and helped me with that shit, you coulda told Liv to back off too, don’t act like you’ve had no part in this.”

“Had no part in what? Getting Dom to break whilst Rhea’s not here? Oh my God, you have lost it…”

She turned to continue her walk down the backstage halls. Maybe if she just got a minute alone in the locker room, she’d be able to rationalise Finn’s decision to extend the invitation for a ride to the next town. Highly doubted it, but it was worth a shot. But it didn’t seem like she was going anywhere without Finn right on her tails, telling her all the reasons she should reconsider her anger, to hear him out, as though he actually wanted Dom to give in.

“Will ya stop walkin’ away from me?” Finn grabbed her wrist, perhaps a little too forcefully, stopping her in her tracks. As expected, her instant reaction was to rip her arm from his grip, even if it severed her entire extremity from the rest of her, but he wasn’t relenting.

“I swear to God, if you don’t let go of me in about three seconds, I’m gonna break your fucking jaw,” she warned with a clenched jaw. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be.”

“I’m not the one makin’ it worse, love, you’re the one overreactin’ at nothin’.”

“I’m not overreacting at nothing, you sociopath. I happen to care about Rhea… You remember Rhea, right? Your fucking family.” She managed to yank her arm from him, the friction albeit scorching her in the process, but she’d sort that out later. 

“Rhea this, Rhea that, you’re just as bad as ‘im!” Finn’s brows narrowed, his fists clenched at his sides. 

“Ay, there you are!”

Speaking of ‘im…

Here he came in long strides from behind Finn, his championship belt slung over his shoulder like it always seemed to be since Mania. Braided hair, studded vest, just everything the world loved him for—everything she loved him for, but never had the balls to admit it.

“We’ve been tryin’ to find you, wh–” Damian paused as he got closer to the two of them, instantly noticing the thick tension lingering in between. His eyes immediately narrowed at her, and he glanced down at the man in front of him. “Everything okay?”

Her throat felt like sandpaper; she couldn’t find it in her to tell him. To tell him what Finn had just done, what he’d just solidified, not just for Dominik, but for the future of The Judgement Day.

“Everything’s fine,” Finn said flatly, his tone clipped as he glanced over his shoulder at Damian.

“Fine?” she shot back incredulously. “Do I look like I think everything’s fine to you? You’ve done some stupid shit before, Bálor, but this? This is a whole new level of dumb.”

Damian’s brow furrowed, dark eyes flicking between them. “Wait, hold up—what’s she talking about?”

“She’s overreacting. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” she snapped, raising her voice once more.

“Here we go,” Finn muttered under his breath, running a hand over his hair. He turned back to her with a forced smile, his jaw tight with irritation. “Y’know, ya don’t always have to make a scene.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she spat, stepping closer, her eyes boring into his. “Am I embarrassing you, Finn? You embarrassed yourself the second you thought it’d be a good idea to hand Liv a damn invitation to ride on our bus. Our bus.”

Damian’s head snapped toward Finn, hardening his expression. “You did what?”

Holding his hands up, Finn tried to play it off the best he could. “Relax, Damo, she just needed a ride for the night. No harm, no foul.”

“No harm?” she hissed. “You didn’t think to ask if maybe, I don’t know, bringing Rhea’s fucking arch enemy into our space might cause some problems? You didn’t even tell Damian!”

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

“You’re a hypocrite, you know that? You’re always talking about loyalty and trust, but the second Rhea’s not around to babysit you, you're out here making decisions that put all of us at risk. Not to mention Dominik and how he might be feeling about your decision making.”

Damian’s deep voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Cálmate un poco,” he said firmly, stepping closer to the two of them. His presence loomed large, his words enough to make her glance at him, but only for a moment.

“Cálmate?” she echoed, throwing her hands up. “I’ve been calm, Damian—too calm, actually. Maybe that’s the fucking problem.”

Finn snorted, folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, right. ‘Too calm.’ You’ve been ridin’ my arse for weeks about every little thing.”

“Because you’ve been acting like an idiot for weeks!”

“You done?” Finn bit back with a sneer on his lips. “Or do you wanna keep goin’ so the whole locker room can hear how dramatic you are?”

“Dramatic?” She almost gasped at his audacity. “You don’t get to call me dramatic, Finn, not when you’re the one throwing Dom to the wolves and dragging Liv into the pack just to get a reaction. Do you even realise what you’re doing to us—”

“Us?” Finn’s voice rose, cutting her off. “Don’t kid yourself, love. There hasn’t been an us for a while now, and you damn well know it.”

The words landed like a slap, but before she could react, Damian was suddenly lodged right between them.

“Ya basta!” he growled, holding up a hand, forcing them to take a step back. His usually smooth baritone was sharper now. “Finn, man, the hell are you doin’? You don’t talk to her like that.”

“Oh, I don’t?” Finn snapped, glaring up at Damian. “You don’t get to tell me how to handle my business.”

Damian’s lips curled into a humourless smile, and he tilted his head, dropping his voice. “Tu negocio? This isn’t about you, pendejo, it’s about the family. About respecting Rhea while she’s gone. And you’re out here actin’ like you forgot that.”

And Finn, in all his toughness, opened his mouth to speak, but the Archer of Infamy didn’t give him an iota of a chance. “And another thing,” he said, taking a menacing step closer to the Irishman, seething with a deadly calm. “I see you grabbin’ at her like that again, we’re gonna have a problem. Understood?”

The smaller man faltered for a moment, his confidence quite clearly wavering. Damian’s eyes narrowed, and his large, veiny hand clenched onto the edge of his championship on his shoulder. “Entiendes, yes or no?”

Finally, Finn nodded, though his jaw looked like it was just about ready to shatter with how harshly he had it clenched. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me, big man, when this heroic act comes back to bite you in the arse.”

Damian didn’t let his weak threat deter him from doing what he needed to do; he turned to her next, his expression softening slightly. “You good?”

Her heart was hammering against her ribcage from the sheer rage seering through her, and her emotions were swept up in a chaotic mess, but she nodded nonetheless. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her tone betrayed the storm beneath it.

“Good,” Damian’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned back to Finn. “Go cool off. Now.”

Finn hesitated, his pride clearly warring with his better judgement, but eventually, he scoffed and walked away, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

Once he was out of earshot, Damian let out a long breath. “You’re really okay?” he asked.

She looked up at him, the tension threatening to snap in her chest loosening ever so slightly under his concerned gaze. “I will be,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure she believed it.

He nodded, his lips quirking into a small, reassuring smile. “Good. Now, let’s figure out what the hell we’re gonna do about all this, cariña.”

The night was cooling down, but her temper still simmered as she stomped alongside Damian through the dimly lit parking lot. Fans that had earlier been congregating at the exit had now dissipated, the chaos of the evening replaced by a tranquil, almost eerie silence. She exhaled sharply, still simmering with frustration, her steps brisk and her arms crossed tightly against her chest.

Damian walked beside her, his strides unhurried as he ate up the speed in which she travelled, and his towering presence remained a stark contrast to her tense frame. He didn’t speak at first, letting the rhythmic echo of their footsteps do the talking. It was only as they approached the production trucks—massive, hulking shadows looming in the dark—that he reached out, his large hand gently wrapping around her elbow.

“Mi vida,” he said softly, richly, lowly. A faintest trace of his accent curling around the syllables. “Slow down.”

She stopped abruptly, pulling her arm free but not walking away. “I’m not getting on that bus,” she insisted. “Not with her there.”

He cocked his head slightly, studying her with those deep, thoughtful eyes that scarcely failed to strip her defences bare. “You don’t have a choice,” he said.

Her lips pressed into a tight line, darting her eyes anywhere else. “I’ll figure something out.”

Admitting to himself, her defiance was always endearing; he chuckled warmly. “What, you’re gonna hitchhike to the next city? Sleep in one of these?” He gestured to the trucks around them with a slight smirk, his rings catching the faint light as his hand moved. “Come on, mamacita, be for real.”

Scowling, her arms tightened around herself. “I can’t stand her, though…” she whined, bouncing on her heels. “What she did to Rhea… what she’s still trying to do.”

Damian softened at the mention of Rhea, a wave of understanding passing over his face. He knew more than anyone what it felt like to watch your best friend be forced to vacate something she’d worked so hard for, all at the hands of someone else. He turned to face her fully, the parking lot lights casting a soft glitter over him, highlighting the sharp features in his beautifully aging face. The faint sheen on his neck, and the glisten from the necklaces there that disappeared behind the collar of his shirt. The tattoos snaking up his arms flexed as he adjusted his title belt, the veins in his forearms prominent and mesmerising.

He tilted his head slightly, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I get it. You’re loyal. We both are. That’s one of the things I like about you.”

His voice dipped into a smoother register, the richness of his tone wrapping around the words like velvet. She hated how easily it still disarmed her, how it made her pulse quicken despite her best efforts to stay annoyed.

“But let me ask you this,” he continued, leaning in a little. “What’s the biggest flex here? Storming off and giving her, and Bálor, the satisfaction of knowing they got under your skin? Or walking on that bus, owning the damn space, and letting ‘em know they don’t even rank?”

Her lips parted, a retort forming, but she couldn’t quite get it out. His words were too mellow, his confidence too infectious.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said with a grin, as though he’d already won the argument. Well, whatever argument was there.

“I’m not sharing space with her. Period.” She continued to scowl, looking down at the floor, where she absentmindedly kicked at small chips of gravel.

“Ay, mi reina,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. “You’re really making this difficult for yourself, huh?”

Sighing heavily, he turned to lean one broad shoulder against the truck they were standing by, and crossed his arms. His biceps strained against his short sleeves, and she was grateful he chose to keep the vest instead of opting for a long-sleeved jacket.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he began. “You and me? We’re gonna get on that bus. But we’re not stayin’ up front with the others. Nah.” He angled his body down and quietened his voice a little. “We’ll head straight to the back, nice and private. You won’t have to see Liv. Hell, you won’t even have to think about her.”

She blinked, caught off-guard by how easily he’d spun the situation into something that sounded almost�� appealing.

“And you’re just gonna make that happen without trouble, yeah?” she asked, arching a sceptical brow.

“Mami,” he grinned, equal parts cocky and charming, “I always make things happen.”

She couldn’t fight the smile that elicited.

“And… the others?” she asked, trying to maintain the upper hand. “What makes you think they’ll just let us waltz past them without saying anything?”

The smile on his face widened, a playful, menacing look in his eyes. “Let me worry about them, they know better than to get in my way. After all,” he exhaled, slapping a hand over his championship. “I am el campeón, mi vida.”

“Yeah, well…” she somewhat sheepishly grinned, looking away. “I think that may be where some of Finn’s issues lay.”

With a rueful chuckle, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers grazing her temple and trailing down to her jawline. Just… brushing off the comment about Finn’s potential ill-feelings about his lack of a singles title. She wouldn’t put it past the man she’d been in such a rocky situationship with to harbour these… feelings.

“And you?” he hummed in a near whisper. “You just have to focus on me. I’ve got you.”

Her breath caught as he tilted her chin up slightly, his thumb tracing the curve of her lower lip. He intensely gazed down at her, smouldering, seeing right through her defenses.

“And just so you know,” he added conspiratorially. “Rhea’s coming back next week.”

Posture straightening, her eyes widened. “What?”

Nodding, his thumb continued ghosting over her lip before moving it to brush along her jaw. “You didn’t hear it from me, but she’s coming back. The other’s don’t know yet, and I’m not so sure I’m gonna tell ‘em.” He watched her take a deep breath, the tension of these past three months visibly tumbling off her shoulders somewhat. “So, he continued, smiling softly. “You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, preciosa. Rhea’s gonna be back, she’s gonna put Liv in her place, but tonight? Just one bus ride. We’ll make it work. Bien?”

His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers threading into the roots of her hair as he came closer. “You trust me, sí?”

Still, even after his silken accent, the baritone vibrato in his affliction, she hesitated; her pride warred heavily with the undeniable pull he had over her. But alas, that was too much for her stubborn streak, and she relented with a nod and a shaky breath.

“I hate you,” she muttered, though her tone spoke otherwise.

Damian laughed, pressing a quick, almost teasing kiss to her forehead. “Nah, you love me, you’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. As he stepped back, his hand lingering on her lower back, she couldn’t help but feel like, somehow, he’d managed to win her over—again…

“Let’s go, mami,” he chided with a glance warm and lingering as he guided her over to where their bus waited. “We got a long ride.”

The bus door hissed open, and Damian stepped in first, his wide frame momentarily filling the entrance. The low hum of conversation inside the bus came to a screeching halt. Everyone was scattered throughout, their chatter dissolving into uneasy silence as they took in the tension radiating off of the two of them as they climbed aboard.

Finn leaned back in his seat, arms draped over the backrest of the bench he sat at. “Well, look who finally decided to join us.”

Damian didn’t miss a beat. “And look who still doesn’t know when to shut up.” The words were sharp but calm, delivered with the kind of controlled menace only Damian could manage. Finn’s smirk twitched, his eyes narrowing.

“C’mon, mate,” Finn said, deceptively light. “What’s the deal? You two been gone and now she’s seethin’.”

“Drop it,” Damian insisted, shrugging off his leather vest and slinging it over his arm. “You’re not as clever as you think you are, pendejo.”

Carlito chuckled from the corner, picking an apple from the fruit bowl and tossing it in his hand lazily. “Depends who you ask.”

Whilst Finn and Damian shot the shit, she took a quick glance around the space and caught Liv perched casually on one of the front seats, scrolling through her phone with her—Rhea’s—championship over her lap. The pair met eyes, and she swore she could have gone over and shoved her phone right down the blonde’s throat once she clocked the little smirk on her face. But she settled with an eye roll, trying to avoid looking back at Liv, even though she could feel her gaze burning into her from across the aisle. Stomach churning, she tightened the grip she had on the back of Damian’s shirt as she stood half-behind him. His earlier reassurance may have helped, but actually stepping onto the bus was like walking into enemy territory.

“You okay?” Dom asked out of nowhere, furrowing his brows. It was nice to see him expressing some other emotion other than sheer discomfort from Liv’s constant advances.

“I’m fine,” she nodded quickly, sending him a forced smile.

“Sure doesn’t look like it,” JD mumbled under his breath, earning a glare from Damian.

“Enough,” the champion asserted, before gesturing toward the back of the bus. “We’re heading to the back. Don’t bother us.”

Liv let out a low whistle, her eyes flicking between them with thinly veiled amusement, ghosting over the almost alarmed look on Finn’s face. “Wow, bossy much?”

Damian’s jaw tightened, but the woman still gripping onto him was the one who snapped.

“You’ve got a lot to say for someone who doesn’t even belong here.”

Liv’s smirk returned, but there was an unmistakable glimmer of irritation behind her eyes. “I’m here because someone thought I’d be a good addition to the crew for the night. Well, that, and clearly Daddy Dom needed a little TLC,” she shot a grin over at Dominik, who flushed with complete embarrassment, before she returned the smugness. “Not my fault you’re pressed about it.”

Carlito barely hid a snort in the loud crunch of his apple while Dom sank further into his seat, clearly not wanting to get involved.

Damian exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face. “Ay dios míó… Enough, sucia, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Bálor. Just be grateful we’re not leaving you in the middle of the parking lot,” he snapped, his patience wearing thin. He then glanced over his shoulder. “Vamos. Ignore them.”

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on Liv for a beat longer. The sheer hubris in her expression made her blood boil, but Damian’s hand circling her wrist pulled her attention away.

“Come on,” he repeated, steering her toward the back.

They moved through the narrow aisle, whispers already igniting behind them. She caught snippets—something about awkwardness, something else about Finn not going after her—but she kept her chin up, refusing to let them see her crack.

The bedroom at the back of the bus was small but cozy, with a plus bench that doubled as a decent bed and soft overhead lighting. Damian shut the door behind them, the noise from the front muffled instantly.

“Finally,” she exhaled, practically flopping back against the wall and running her hands over her face. “I thought I was gonna lose it there.”

Chuckling, Damian tossed his vest onto the bench and laid down his title belt on top of it. “You handled yourself fine, hermosa.”

“Barely,” she muttered, following Damian with her eyes as he moved to lean against the wall in front of her, rather than relaxing back on the bench or even at the window. “Liv’s just lucky I didn’t pick her ass up and throw her off the bus.”

“She’s not worth it,” he said. “Let her think whatever she wants. You’ve got nothing to prove to her—or anyone else for that matter.”

She let out a frustrated whine, but conceded with a stubborn shrug. “This is going to be a long night.”

Resting her head back against the wall, she moved to look up at Damian, who had pretty much settled just across from her now. Arms folded. Intense eyes glued onto her, almost narrowed as if he were trying to pry into her thoughts.

“What?” she stifled a low laugh.

“You think it’s gonna be a long night?”

“...Yeah?”

“It won’t be if you listen to me,” he casually said.

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smile creeping onto her face for the first time that night. “Oh, yeah? What’s your master plan this time?”

Without answering immediately, he pushed off the wall, crossing the small space in a single stride. Towering over her, he placed a hand on the space beside her head, leaning in close.

“My plan,” he said smoothly, “Is to make sure you don’t think about Liv, or Finn, or anyone else for the rest of the ride.”

Like a deer caught in headlights, her heart stumbled at the intensity in his gaze. “You’re awfully confident, aren’t you?”

“Siempre,” he replied with a boyish grin. “And usually for good reason.”

She tried, with her whole chest, to ignore the way her pulse quickened, and tried to brush him off. But Damian Priest wasn’t the kind of man you could easily ignore.

A chest so wide her palm could walk across it a full four times before it covered the expanse. Ink etched into caramel skin so beautiful Mick Rock would need to adopt a whole new method just to capture its essence. Her fingers itched to trace the grooves of his body, the taut planes of his torso—carved from obsidian and bronze. A man whose physique withstood the passage of centuries. Muscles rippling beneath the ink mapping his sinuous path of past lives. Ink so black it swallowed light, swirling like the last whispers of a forgotten prayer.

“Mi vida,” he grumbled as his calloused fingertips grazed beneath the hem of her shirt. “Tan suave…”

An impatient whimper fell from her lips, her hands remained splayed on his biceps. Keeping him at a distance neither of them really wanted. 

“No corras, mi amor.” His lips teased her temple, a singular inhale allowing her scent to overwhelm him. New shampoo.

“Damian,” she managed to whisper, squeezing his sinewy arms in yet another pathetic attempt at separation. It didn’t seem to matter how many times she told him she only understood a fraction of what he spoke in that bewitching native tongue of his, he would always do it. Of course he would, she loved it.

Nevertheless, he lifted his head, gazing down at the woman in his arms with a hooded glance. Even under such subdued lighting and uneven ground, the swaying of the bus prohibiting a stable view, he just looked so… irresistible. A black Killswitch Engage shirt, obviously a tad too small, hair hanging in beautiful braids, those blue jeans he basked in whenever he got the chance. Rings on. Every. Finger.

“You spend so much time tellin’ me why you can’t.”

“Because I can’t.”

Sighing, he angled his head to the side, bringing a hand up to cup the side of her face, the cold metal of his endearing accessories bringing her back from melting completely into his hold. She was so hyper-aware of his proximity, of the others’ proximity.

“Claro, qué sí...”

“Damian–”

He quickly shut her up just by sliding his hand down to the back of her neck, his thumb massaging just behind her ear. There was no way she could resist laying her head back against the wall behind her.

Lips feathered her forehead, the intoxicating aroma of Aqua di Gio forcing her thighs together, down to her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

“You know I’ll stop if that’s what you really want, cariño.” Their hips met in one motion as his free hand gripped onto her lower back, careening her toward him. Finally, she felt the expanse of his chest, just as tough as she remembered it being, the shirt may as well have not been there. A smirk tugged at his lips, a deep chuckle rumbling from the back of his throat as her smaller hands clung to his shoulders.

“But you don’t want that, ¿verdad?”

Swallowing down the dryness that threatened to encompass her ability to utter a single word, she trembled under his touch, wanting nothing more than this gorgeous, hulking 6’5” leviathan to take her to another realm. Make her forget her name. Her birthday. Where she was. 

“N-No…” she finally admitted, meekly shaking her head.

“Then why don’t you just surrender to it, baby? It can’t harm you unless you let it.” Her lip was gently tugged downward with the pad of his thumb, only to bounce back against her teeth. “Dios mío, extraño esa boca,” he muttered, breathing in sharply through his nose.

“It’s not that easy,” she answered, glancing down at his lips as his tongue traced them like a water-starved lion. “You know it’s not that easy.”

They both knew it wasn’t so easy, and each time they acknowledged that fact, the magic faded. Every. Time. In a perfect world, surrendering to the Archer of Infamy would be the easiest thing one could ever do. But it wasn’t their world, and it wasn’t so perfect.

“I know,” Damian relented, but maintained his grip on her. “But you know it as well as I do.” He sighed her name, leaving one lingering kiss directly on her lips to hold onto until next time.

“You’ll always be mine. Reina de mi Corazón.”

His lips continued to hover near hers, his breath hot as it blanketed her space in a soft, uneven exchange with her own. He wasn’t rushing her—no, he’d never do that. He was just deliberate. Intentional. Devastatingly patient.

She knew that if she gave him this—if she surrendered, took the promise at the corner of his lascivious smile—he’d handle her with a precision no one else ever had. As if pulled by some invisible force, he angled her face up, brushing her lips against his in a feather-light kiss. And instead of pressing forward, instead of deepening the contact, Damian let her set the pace, let her linger until her nerves gave way to a quiet, shuddering exhale.

“There she is,” he murmured against her lips, like velvet sliding over her goose-pimpled skin. He cupped her face gently, his thumb grazing over her cheekbone in slow, soothing circles. “Knew you’d come back to me, baby girl.”

“Damian,” she started, her voice barely louder than a whisper, but he cut her off with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, his lips trailing down to her ear.

“Shh, mi vida,” he coaxed, tingles from his words rippling down her neck. “I know you’re scared. I know you’re thinkin’ about all the reasons you shouldn’t.” He pressed another kiss, this time to the hollow of her throat, his hand sliding to her lower back. “But tell me, cariña… do any of those reasons feel stronger than this?”

Nails digging into his shoulders, her head tipped back involuntarily as his lips moved, prudent and proficient, against her skin. “It’s not just us, though,” she whispered wearily. “Finn’s here. They’re all here.”

Damian snickered, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through her. “Let them be,” he simply said in that effortless charm. “You think they matter to me? You think Finn matters?” He paused, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. “Finn doesn’t matter. Not in here. Not when it’s just us.”

Her heart stuttered as his hands lowered over her hips and tentatively rested on the curve of her ass, applying the smallest amount of pressure, before suddenly hiking her up the wall so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his body. His lips were by her ear again as hummed in a low, intoxicating murmur.

“You’re nervous. I get that. But let me ask you this… has he ever made you feel the way I do? Made you laugh like I can? Made you want to crawl out of your own skin just to get closer?” Tilting her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You think he could’ve made you smile the way I do? Made you lose yourself?”

Her lips parted, but no sound came; Damian’s warm hands slid around to her front, teasing the buttons on her jeans before popping the top one open. Then, his rough fingertips scaled the parameters of her waistband, comfortably tucking them beneath the fabric. He grinned at her hitched breathing, his confidence surging as his voice dropped to a near-growl.

“And don’t get me started on the rest, hermosa,” he teased. “Because I guarantee you, no one’s ever known how to take care of you the way I do. To really take care of you. Mind, body… everything.”

Damian was always attuned to her every move, every tell, as he pressed another soft kiss to her lips, this time lingering just a little longer, savouring her softness.

“Say it, mami,” he almost pleaded, popping yet another button open on her jeans. “Say you want me. Say it, and I’ll give you everything you didn’t know you’ve been needin’... todo lo que no te pudo dar.”

That was it. He knew that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Shit,” she breathed, moving to hold onto the back of his neck and pull him as close to her as she could. “I want you,” she relented, looking straight into his dreamy eyes. “I need you, Dam…”

Victorious, Damian smiled at her. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

The moment shifted like a pendulum swinging, as his arms tightened around her to hike her further up to the wall, lips claiming hers again in a no longer soft or coaxing manner. Her gasps were swallowed by his mouth as he gripped her thighs, feeling her lose some of her strength in the heat of the kiss.

“Wrap them around me,” he growled against her lips, the baritone in his voice like a physical presence. His words weren’t a request; they were a command laced with molten heat. Her legs obeyed instinctively, locking around him as her back pressed flush against the wall. He tugged at her jeans, somehow finding a way to shimmy them down to her knees before he had to let her go to let the denim fall to the floor. But she was back, clinging around him, in a matter of seconds. She barely registered the loss, as her focus was entirely on him—on the way his strength felt like a force of nature, unyielding but controlled. Hoisting her again, he bent gravity at his will.

She tugged at the roots of his braids, eliciting a low, guttural sound from deep in his chest. Even as he resumed his heated kisses against her neck, biting and nipping at her, her senses frayed at the edges.

“You taste like heaven, mi reina,” he mumbled, his voice laced with reverence, though his actions were anything but saintly. He kissed lower still, hazing her to the point where she hadn’t even realised he was lifting her higher until the tops of her thighs had hit under his arms. 

A sharp intake of hair caught in her throat as she clocked the position, yet he didn’t stop until she had no choice but to spread her legs over his broad shoulders. Damian stood as though the weight of her body was nothing more than an afterthought.

“Damian,” she breathed, trembling with a combination of exhilaration and disbelief.

He glanced up at her, a smirk curling his lips, dark and devastating. “I know how to handle you, baby, I’ve been dreamin’ of doin’ this to you.” His hands splayed over her thighs, his thumbs traced in slow, tantalising circles along her skin. “Trust me, preciosa. I’ve got you.”

Her own tongue felt too hot against her lips as she wetted them, watching as the Puerto Rican God below her peppered kisses along the band of her panties, stopping at her hip to tease the fabric with his teeth before moving to the other side to repeat the movements.

One hand braced her firmly, his long fingers splaying wide over her lower back, while the other trailed down her side and between them to tuck the tip of his pointer finger into her underwear, tugging at it so she felt the teases of cooler air hit her.

“Shit,” she gasped, her thighs tensing beside his head once he fully pulled the flimsy fabric covering her core to the side, exposing her to his face in such close proximity.

He could have melted right then and there at the sight shimmering back at him; her glistening folds just begging to be parted and worshipped. A neatly kempt, pristine little patch just above his meal—the crowning glory of her womanhood. Even as a brief flash of Finn getting to be this close to her flipped through the pages of his mind, absolutely nothing could sour this moment for him. And he was going to savour every last second of this—of her.

“Baby, you have no idea,” he whispered, adjusting his arms so his hands could easily access where he needed. “How many nights,” he continued, using his thumbs to slowly part her weeping folds, “I’ve thought about doin’ this again.” He brought his mouth as close to her centre as he could, blowing directly onto her heated slick and taking such pride in how she jolted helplessly in his arms. “You have such a pretty pussy, hermosa…”

“Damian, please…” she whimpered, attempting to grind her hips toward his face, but only encouraged him to tighten his arms around her so she couldn’t move at all. 

“Shh,” he hissed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to her thigh, before whispering under his breath as he made eye contact with her pussy. “Deja que Papí como.”

Before she could begin to respond, his lips made contact with her core, an open-mouth kiss that gave him a taste of what she had to offer—as if he didn’t already know how sweet she was.

His tongue explored slowly, languidly. Dragging gentle patterns all over her, the action creating a subtle hollowing in his cheeks as he glanced up at her. His eyes narrowed as he inched his tongue up, finally settling it on her sensitive nub, where she’d been throbbing and pulsating since he’d gotten her in this position.

“Ahh,” she panted suddenly, not expecting the jarring of her own hips. One of her hands flew up to the wall beside her, the tips of her fingers grazing the ceiling, once again reminding her of how far up the wall she’d been lifted, and that she wasn’t in some random hotel room; she was in the fucking bus.

“There it is,” he chuckled. “Already shaking for me, and I’ve barely started.”

Her other hand settled on top of Damian’s head, her fingers once again finding space in the roots of his braids as he resumed circling her clit with his tongue in slow, purposeful strokes. She could feel herself pulsate into his mouth already, and she just knew that she was soaking his chin in the process.

“You’re so sensitive here, mi amor,” he murmured, pausing just long enough to kiss her clit before flicking the tip of his tongue again. “You like that, when I focus right here?” Another flick, another jolt. “Tell me.”

She couldn’t find the words, only managing a shaky nod as her calves pulled him closer in her direction.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, a smirk evident in his tone. “But you gotta keep quiet for me, baby girl, we don’t want Finn hearing, do we?”

The reminder sent a thunderbolt of adrenaline through her, and she pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle the small moan that escaped as Damian ducked his head and sucked her clit into his mouth, applying just the right amount of pressure as he ate her out like he knew she needed. Her eyes fluttered shut and her head tilted back as she embraced the feeling of his tongue moving back and forth, side to side, any and all ways all over her pussy, putting intense focus on her beating clit just how she liked it.

“Good girl…” His voice came as gravel and silk. “Doin’ so well for me. Lemme hear those little noises—just for me.”

She tried, but every movement of his mouth, of his tongue, even the gentle scraping of his teeth against her, had her trembling uncontrollably. Her body strained against him, her toes curling in her heeled boots as she tried to keep her balance atop his shoulders, but Damian’s grip was steadfast.

As his head started bobbing with his actions, her sense of reality stretched further and further away from her consciousness, and all she wanted to do was take all of that thick dick deep inside her, like she remembered doing so long ago. Wanted to make him grunt and groan, to leave his mark on her, in her, ruin her for everyone else.

“Shit, shit, D–fuck, don’t stop,” she panted quietly, her jaw clenching as she kept her noises to a minimum. “Papí…”

“Sí, mami. Let me have you.”

As he drooled and salivated all over her pussy, he let out a low growl against her, and that’s what did it for her. She couldn’t stop herself from banging the palm of her hand on the wall behind her as she came so hard into his mouth, her back arching painfully as she let out strained grunts and strangled whimpers.

The hand that had a tight grip on Damian’s head flew up to her mouth, her nails digging into her own face as she tried to muffle the cries. He wouldn’t stop. His tongue kept moving over her pulsing bud, abusing the pressure point like he would a popsicle on the verge of melting. He wanted to drain every last bit of her pleasure until she couldn’t stand being hoisted all the way up on the wall anymore—until the idea of staying upright caused unease. 

But when her tremors subsided, only left with the sheen on his chin and a shiver up her spine, he finally lifted his head with a wicked grin full to the brim with pride.

“I could do that shit all night, hermosa,” he said through a ragged exhale. “But I think you might be a little too sensitive for that. For now.”

Easing her back down the wall, his grip remained firm but tender, as though she were to break at the slightest mishandling. Her legs slipped from his shoulders, trembling slightly as they found solid ground again. Still, she was catching her breath, her body flushed and buzzing.

Both of them were oblivious to the rhythmic thuds her earlier ecstasy had caused against the wall—a sound that surely hadn’t gone unnoticed beyond the small space.

Her body slid against the wall, her legs wobbling under her so much that Damian kept one arm around her to steady her.

“You good?” His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced with a gentleness that somehow made her chest twist and ache.

She nodded, her forehead falling against his shoulder as she tried to regulate her breathing. “I… yeah. That was…” Words escaped her completely, overtaken with some kind of erotic brain fog.

Damian chuckled low, his breath warm against her temple. “I know,” he mumbled. “You don’t have to say it.”

Just as she lifted her head to look at him, he silenced the prospect of further words with a slow, delicate kiss. She could taste herself on him—the aroma, the zest, the intimacy of it. A potent reminder of what had just transpired.

Groaning softly into the kiss, she pulled back only slightly. “That’s… that’s me,” she whispered hazily, with embarrassment and arousal.

“Yeah,” Damian said, a wicked grin apparent as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. “You taste fuckin’ amazing, mami. And you know what? Now you’ll never forget it…”

Her breath caught in her throat as his words sank in, his confidence so intoxicating that it left her dizzy.

“Papí…” she almost quivered.

“Hmm?” He leaned in again, brushing his lips over hers, not quite kissing her. “Something you wanna say, or you just gonna stand there thinkin’ about how I had you shaking for me?”

Before she could respond, he stepped back, his hands still lingering on her hips as though he wasn’t ready to let her go. He turned slightly to retrieve her jeans from where they’d been discarded in a heap on the floor. He handed them to her with a crooked grin.

“Better put these on before I change my mind about you being too sensitive, mi vida,” he said, half-seriously and half-playfully.

She took them, her fingers brushing against his as she did, but instead of the sound of her raspy, worn-out voice constructing an answer, the soft click of the doorknob turning caught their attention.

In an instant, Damian’s hand shot out, pressing against the door with casual strength, holding it firmly shut. The sheer ease with which he managed it was almost more arousing than anything else he’d done so far, his palm flat against the wood like it weighed nothing.

“I thought I said not to bother us,” Damian called, brooking no argument with a sharp and commanding edge.

There was a pause on the other side, and then JD’s voice floated through, apologetic but amused. “We’re stoppin’ for gas in a bit. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Pendejo…” Damian huffed, his annoyance clear, but his hand didn’t move from the door. Instead, he leaned over in her direction, lowering his voice as he whispered, “He’s lucky I’m in a good mood.”

She stifled a laugh, the absurdity of the situation settling in. But Damian, being the kind of unflappable man he was, shifted his focus back to it entirely.

“Alright,” he said loud enough for JD to hear, almost dismissively. “You’ve said your piece. Ve dale.”

There was a boyish laugh from the other side, and the sound of retreating footsteps followed. Damian waited a beat longer, ensuring their privacy, before letting his hand drop and turning his attention back to her.

“See, preciosa? Easy!” He wiped his hands together, brushing the existence of the others off his shoulder.

“You’re insane,” she grinned up at him.

“Maybe,” he smiled back unrepentantly. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it all of a sudden.”

She rolled her eyes, but the truth was undeniable. He stepped toward her, his fingers trailing lightly down her arm before catching her wrist and pulling her into his chest so he could take her fully into his arms.

“When we get to the next city,” he stared, his voice muffled against her hair. “I’m booking us a room. No interruptions, no walls, no keeping quiet. Just you and me.”

Humming in acceptance, and almost contentment, she angled her head to the side so she could speak to him. “And then?” she asked softly.

“And then…” he echoed, lowering a hand down to her ass, where he unashamedly grabbed a handful. “Then you can ride Papi all you want, baby girl. All night, however you want me.”

Her cheeks burned, but the elated grin she gave him let him know he’d hit the mark.

“Gas stop’s not gonna take long,” he said. “It’s just enough time for me to think about everything I’m gonna do to you later. But for now…”

He pulled his head back to look down into her eyes.

“Behave, mi amor. Or Papi might not be able to wait that long…”

Translations: Ya basta - Enough’s enough Cariña - Sweetheart/darling/term of endearment Mi vida - My life/term of endearment Preciosa - Precious/term of endearment Pendejo - Idiot/dumbass/dummy Ay dios mio - My God Sucia - Dirty Hermosa - Pretty Siempre - Always Tan suave - So soft No corras, mi amor - No running, sweetheart/my love Claro, qué sí - Yes, you can ¿Verdad? - Right?/No?

Dios mío, extraño esa boca - My God, I miss that mouth

Reina de mi Corazón - Queen of my Heart

Todo lo que no te pudo dar - Everything he couldn’t give you

Deja que Papí coma - Let Daddy eat

Ve dale - Now go

[twipsai]

this one panel in issue #50 and it's, like, not THAT bad alright

fuck it im tired and had a long day this is my treat to myself. im talking about that panel. yes, THAT panel. which one?

THIS ONE. alrighty this is off the cuff and terrible, lets go.

so this panel isnt like, that bad in context when it comes to Sonic. i think specifically "ive made peace with enough enemies to know there is a better way" is a really interesting line here, because it calls back to the amount of times that the "villain" hes fought has just been a person whos hurting, and how hes been able to help those people. it makes sense that eventually hes more keen on trying to figure out someones whole story before deciding if theyve gotta go (which is rare).

but i want to talk about the FRAMING of this panel, and specifically the larger context of this issue in particular. theres a lot of flip-flopping in perspectives. usually, IDW is told through Sonic's perspective (loosely, this kind of thing is up to interpretation a lot), but in issue 50, it switches rapidly between four different groups -- Sonic and Surge, Tails and Kit, Eggman and Starline, and Belle and Metal. within these groups, the perspective its being told from changes a few times, but never as much as Sonic and Surge's do

i actually love these two when they interact as a storyteller myself, and one that has handled scripts too often for my own liking. Sonic and Surge do this thing where they push and pull the pacing of the script to fit their motives -- Surge keeps trying to escalate things, whenever shes in a panel everything starts pushing rapidly and it feels like the panels are tumbling off the page. when Sonic does anything, though, its slow and deliberate. hes having fun fighting, sure, but he can very much tell that Surge is trying to kill him and hes not having any of that. Sonic keeps things slow and focused, Surge tries to push things faster and unfocused. i could get into how this reflects her motivations and stuff but thats not what this is about i already lost track of what i was talking about fuck hang on

ok so. Surge knows shes supposed to be Sonic, to be BETTER than Sonic. its all she knows, really, and thats the problem. shes traumatized and full of rage and Sonic has been put on this high pedestal, not just by her, but by everyone. she cannot stand this.

this panel is how SURGE sees Sonic, specifically the composition. hes shrouded in light and physically above her -- its not even that subtle of a metaphor, they use it all the time in idw.

the entire overpowered saga shows Surge clawing for control of herself, her life, her freedom... this issue sets all that up in the main story. the way Sonic is framed here isnt how he sees himself at all. weve seen him do this exact same thing from his own perspective before, where everyone is on even ground. he doesnt see himself as above anyone, this instance of him being depicted as such isnt alluding to how Sonic feels about himself, its how Surge feels about Sonic.

and, look, its not the most well-done in the world. this issue has a whole host of problems, evident by the constant switching of focus from one group to a next (a problem that i think they did better on in the Phantom Rider saga). i literally forgot about Belle and Metal in this issue bc theres just so much more going on, i wouldve loved for them to slow things down a bit, maybe splitting it into two issues, but hey, what can you do, yk?

as an aside, i think its really weird how people narrow in on this specific panel of Sonic as being "so out of character", which i sorta like, 30% agree with (i think some phrasing could be better), and then ignore the page right after it...

...in which he pretty much says "you dont get freedom if youre gonna be a problem". funnily enough, on twitter i have this flow chart saved whenever i need a quick guide on Sonics morality and stuff, its really not that complicated

x

none of this is new imo, we see he has the same philosophy in sa1 and satbk. Chaos was blinded by rage and pain after being trapped for thousands of years RIGHT after they were attacked by the echidnas. Merlina was so scared of death (implied to be because she had lost family members and wasnt able to cope with it well) that she became a monster in an attempt to never let anything change ever again. these arent very different stories in my head i guess, just cases of Sonic seeing people who are hurting and doing his best to free them from that.

uhhhh anyways. all this is disorganized i forgot what i was talking about like 5 times while writing this but. people on twitter are ripping into this issue again. like its a b tier issue stop acting like its an f yk Q_Q i will defend anything if people are too mean tbh

thanks for making it this far if you read all this. i love idw a lot and i think that it does have some flaws, theyre all really blown out of proportion.

have a great day/afternoon/evening wherever you are yall :) bye bye

[baocean]

no rest for the wicked

chapter two - flowers & grapefruit

masterlist | next chapter

finding out your twin sister is alive after two weeks of trying to grieve her is a weird feeling.

then, finding out your brother shot your sister over money, that’s an even weirder feeling.

you’d been dragged through the mud these last few weeks. you haven’t been sleeping, haven’t been eating, your friends stopped reaching out after three or four tries.

your house wasn’t safe anymore. you flipped your shit on rafe when you found out he shot sarah. your sister, his sister. you just found out she was alive, and rafe’s trying to fucking kill her again.

now, you’re scared rafe knows you’re just as against him as sarah is. personally, you were scared. for yourself, for sarah, for wheezie. you had absolutely no idea what rafe was capable of, he just kept out performing himself.

conforming to the plan of staying alive, and after rafe scared you shitless with one of his crazy rants after trapping you in the kitchen, you went along with what he said, told people rafe was at home when the sheriff was shot, said sarah was awol.

you prayed that it would end up helping you, getting you back to your sister, getting the sheriff justice.

you’d keep out of the pogues way, half of them were batshit crazy anyway, go about your business. not anger your brother enough for him to point a loaded gun at you.

you walked the beach the next morning, wondering where sarah and john b were. they could be anywhere, by now.

it was sunrise, nothing but tourons walking their dogs and early morning runners out.

it was peaceful, beautiful. with the constant threats and reminders of what was happening at home, it was nice to get away, even for a little.

you were completely conflicted. rafe, your dad, sarah, they were your family. all of them have done bad things, including you. you couldn’t sit here and watch john b go down for something rafe did, but rafe was also your brother. ‘he needs help’, you kept reassuring yourself, ‘if he just got the help he needed, everything would be okay’.

you’d been around town, pretending everything was normal. you’d been back at the club while you watched people whisper about your sister. you also hadn’t seen any of the pogues since the party, hoping and praying that rafe had nothing to do with their disappearance.

at the same time you were heading back to your house, sarah and the rest of her friends were heading back to obx from charleston, after being reunited.

“i need to see yn.” sarah sighed, looking out onto the water. she hadn’t spoken to you in two weeks, the longest you’d ever gone without talking to one another. even the time she burnt your hair off trying to curl it, you only lasted seven days before you cracked.

“are you fucking kidding me?” jj broke the silence, everyone else simply not knowing how to.

“yes, i’m serious. she thinks im dead, jj.”

“nah, i told her the other day.” jj casually dropped, sarah giving him a confused look.

“why would you do that?”

“i thought she had the right to know. she wanted to tell rafe, but uh, guess he figured that one out on his own.” jj’s eyes flickered to sarah’s wound on her lower stomach.

“you know she’s telling people rafe wasn’t even there that day?” kiara spoke, harsh tone lacing her words.

everyone else remained silent, sarah just sighed. “i’m sure she has a good reason for it.”

“or maybe she’s just as psycho as rafe. did we ever think about that? can’t the mentally ill gene be passed down to multiple kids?” jj stood up.

“jj, just- just fucking stop, okay?” sarah fought back, forcing her blond friend back into his seat. “yn’s not perfect. but she’s not rafe. i know her, she’s not rafe.”

sarah defending you all while her heart was sinking to her feet. the thought of her twin sister defending her brother had that kind of effect on her.

you sat in your sisters room, looking at the photos on her dresser, the heap of dirty laundry in the corner, her comforter still messy from the morning when she left.

it still smelled like her, like flowers and grapefruit, like the perfume she wore.

you were relieved beyond belief that sarah was still alive, but you had no idea if you’d ever see her again.

the constant fear of what was happening, what could happen was all too much.

your breathing picked up, unable to get a deep breath of air. the world blurred around you, but you’ve had one of these before. you recognized this.

you had panic attacks the night your mom left, the few weeks after that. you didn’t have another one until you found out your sister died, that one hitting you so hard you didn’t remember the rest of the night.

and just as the tear fell down your cheek, your phone started to ring.

an unknown number, the one you had memorized anyway. why was jj calling?

you let it ring, trying to compose yourself the best you could. you were a cameron, grow the fuck up.

picking up the phone, your name was spoken before you could get a word out yourself.

your heart dropped, “sarah?”

“it’s me, sunshine.” her laugh rang through the phone, sending you into another fit of sobs.

sunshine was sarah’s favorite name for you, because in most cases, you were the complete opposite.

“oh my god, you’re here? are you okay? rafe fucking shot you, sarah. where are you?” you shot up, then realized rafe was probably in the other room, shunning your voice.

“i’m here, i’m fine. i’m at the chateau, using jj’s phone. i might come home, to talk to dad, to get help.”

“don’t come home. i can come there.”

“yea, that’s probably not the best idea right now. with you defending rafe and all.” sarah’s voice was hesitant, like at any moment, you’d snap at her too.

“sarah, i swear i don’t want to. rafe has gone off the fucking rails. we need to get him help.” you ran a shaky hand through your hair, pacing back in forth in your twin’s room.

“i know, i’m going to talk to dad. just, just stay there okay?”

“okay, i love you sare bear.” you smiled, even if it was weak. your sare bear, your sister. you couldn’t believe you were actually talking to her right now.

“love you too, sunshine.” and then the line was disconnected.

oh my god. oh my god. you were still so unsure how all of this happened so quickly.

one minute, your life is great. you have friends, money, great family, a guy to take your frustrations out on, all of it. then, all of the sudden you’re in this mess, and the only thing you have left is the cameron name.

an hour later, you were waiting outside on the patio, holding a book as a cover to pretend you busy.

you’d been waiting outside for sarah for almost thirty minutes, giving up hope that she was still coming.

you heard her before you saw her, popping up and throwing the book to the side. “sarah?”

seeing her made your heart physically hurt. she tried to smile, barely having it in her.

it was genuinely like a scene out of a movie, you felt like time was moving in slow motion.

you ran to where she has standing on the docks, colliding with her so hard you thought she’d fall over.

embracing her as hard as you could, you thought everything could finally be okay. that maybe you could be a family again, put it all behind you.

then, you heard your dad call her name.

you both turned around, and watched your dad walk towards you.

“sarah, my baby, i’m so happy you’re alive.” he weeped. sarah stepped back from him on instinct, grabbing your arm for reassurance.

a string of no’s and get back’s came from sarah, and you gave him a look.

the one thing sarah and you had in common were your eyes. you’d always been told that, actually. you guys had the same eye shape, color, lashes, everything. they always held so much emotion, unable to fully mask how you were feeling, ever.

right now, your dad had two sets of of the same sad eyes looking back at him.

“dad, cmon. give her some space.”

after a long talk, and much to sarah’s surprise, your dad did not agree or reason with her. by the time she was finished, she was crying.

“dad, i’m not coming home.” sarah said, making both you and your dad’s heads snap to her.

“what?” you breathed out, and she turned to you, a look of only sympathy painting her face.

“we’ll talk about it later, okay?” she nodded, smiled, then starting backing up towards the dock.

“then i’m coming with you.” you turned your entire body to her, raising your voice.

a tear slipped down sarah’s face, shaking her head no.

“what?” you drew out, almost mad at her that she had said no. you went to take a step forward, but two arms wrapped around your torso, forcing you back.

“i can’t let you do that, sweetie.” your dad hummed in your ear.

and with that, you started screaming, throwing your fists and kicking whatever you could to try to get your dad to let go of you.

sarah, still crying, started running towards the dock as you yelled her name.

you were sobbing now, weeping your sisters name as you watched her drive off on the boat, your dad still holding onto you for dear life.

after that, your dad locked you in your room for two days. something about your safety, who knows, you weren’t listening to him.

sarah finally got her phone back, and you ignored her several attempts to ‘talk about it later’.

sarah: yn please talk to me

sarah: i’m sorry things are so complicated right now i couldn’t bring you back to the chateau not right now

sarah: i can’t lose you too please text me back

sarah: dad called the police on john b. he’s in jail.

you didn’t answer the texts, at least, not right away. not until you got few other ones.

unknown: did you know your fucking dad was gonna call the cops on john b?

unknown: text sarah back and stop being a fucking bitch

taglist - @ethanthequeefqueen @rafegetinmybed @str4wb3rrym1lkl0v3r @cassiewritessalot @lilygrxcem @arabellamaybank @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @ineedtherapy1 @doesnt-care @imrkos @freyawhitexxx1 @bee-43 @dr3amgrlll

[dlcallie]

Its been a while since ive written something but heres the fic

The drifter had been dragged into something called a “girls night”. They didnt quite know what it meant but Aoi and Eleanor assured them it wasnt anything bad. Aoi had told them all they needed was vcr for whatever tapes she was bringing plus pizza and snacks and wine. Eleanor said she had the wine handled so that left the drifter with the task of obtaining the pizza and snacks. Easy enough, they ran a bounty for Quincy with the promise of a fresh piping hot pizza as their reward. As for the snacks, they raided the stash of snacks Amir deemed “movie night snacks”. Making a mental note of what they took so they could replace it later.

Once they had gotten back they returned to Quincy telling him of their job well done. After they made a quick pitstop to visit their boyfriend, it made them giddy to be able to call him that.

“Whats on the agenda for tonight?” Arthur asked them, looking up from his gun maintenance.

“Aoi and Eleanor wanted to have a “girls night”? Im not sure what that means but it sounded fun from how they described it.” Arthur halted in his task, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He knew those two and knew that they were certainly up to something.

“Yeah? Is that right?”

“I ran a bounty for Quincy to get the pizza Aoi asked for so im going to our place to get things set up.” They said, giving Arthur a quick peck on his stubbled cheek. cleared his throat, trying to will his blush away.

“I’ll steer clear of the backrooms for a couple hours then.” Arthur said.

“Thank you. They asked me to make sure you didnt come in.” Arthur felt the hair stand up on his neck, they were for sure gonna tell the Drifter something and he felt uneasy. Those two had dirt on him and he didn’t like it.

“Enjoy your night sweets… I’ll see you later.” Arthur said, watching the Drifter walk away. He goes over to his computer to send a quick KIM to both Eleanor and Aoi, asking (begging) them not to say anything embarrassing to the drifter.

Arthur glances at the time, its been about 5 hour since the drifter walked in telling him about the girls night Eleanor and Aoi invited them to. He figured enough time had passed and it would be safe for him to make his way back to their shared living quarters. He made his way into the backrooms, giving Kalymos a rub behind her ears as she greeted him at the door.

“What is… Halloween?” Drifter asks, looking at the photo album before them. A picture of a young Arthur and elenor in their halloween costumes. Arthur dressed so cutely as a knight. While Eleanor was dresses as the witch from that one movie Amir had showed them once.

“Its a holiday, its roots can be traced back to old pagan traditions. However now it is merely a day of celebration for the macabre. Children dress up and go trick or treating. Which is where they go door to door asking for candy” Eleanor explained to them, taking a sip of her wine while doing so.

“Oh. We have something similar. Its called Naberus… but it was a weird orokin holiday.”

“The Orokin dont seem like they would be the type handing out candy…” Aoi said, grabbing an handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table.

“They aren’t… it was more of a celebration mocking death.”

“The orokin sound like a delight…”

Arthur looked up at the balcony hearing the voices up above but not seeing them.

“Seems we have a visitor…” Eleanor said, immediately clocking her brothers presence. Arthur made his way up the stairs to the room he shared with the drifter. His eyes scanned the scene, two empty bottles of wine we placed on the table. The pizza is long gone, empty wrappers placed on the table and the large bowl of popcorn was almost completely gone. His eyes then land on what is in the drifters hand.

“Oh for fucks sake…” he says, his ears heating up. He knows what embarrassing secrets are in that book. And the thought of his significant other seeing those is absolutely horrifying. Eleanor gives him a smirk, she planned this… that little shit. “Its past 11… Can you lot go to your own quarters now?” He says his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh is it really that late?” Aoi says with a glance to the clock on the wall. She stands and gathers her things. “Well ill let you two lovebirds get some rest then!” Aoi teases as she leaves.

“I will take the trash with me. Ill chuck it in the bins since its on the way out” Eleanor said as she picks up the trash strewn about the table, tucking the photo book safely under her arm. He wished she left it so he could burn the damn thing. Arthur settled down on the couch, removing his tactical gear.

“You looked very cute as a baby.” The drifter said Arthur groans and throws a pillow at them.

I finally ranked up to max rank with the hex yesterday. Now im dating Arthur and am best friends with his ex and his sister (im also besties with amir and lettie but thats not important for this post) I just know those two tell drifter embarrassing ass stories about him and he is so fucking stressed about it.

Like i imagine they are having a girls night and Eleanor bust outs the family picture album and shows Drifter all of Arthurs phases in life. And Aoi is telling Drifter all these stories of embarrassing things that had happened while they were dating. And Arthur comes into the backrooms cus he lives there with them now and hes just like “for fucks sake…” and walks back out with his ears red.

[rainroses45]

Family Fun!

description: sam decides to visit his sister and turns out he has a better time there then at his own home…well motel technically

a/n: inspired by girl interrupted and my own personal experiences with mental health (miss maam has been numb with medication for four years) y'all wanted angst and sad shit AND IM FEEDING MY BABIES WHAT THEY WANT

song inspo: your love is my drug and mice on venus

warning: cursing, mental health issues, John being an asshat, psych ward and TRAUMA

The buzz of the door echoed through the empty lobby.

Nobody knew he was here, not even his own brother knew. His father was practically out of the question when it came to informing him of his where abouts.

It was twisted. It was mental. It was painted white for funerals. The nurse excoriated him down the hallway towards the empty room. As the door opened chills ran down his spine, no one questioned him - no one even asked him for a name. They just knew, they knew.

“You can wait here while I get her,” she smiled at him, her eyes telling a different story than the one on her lips.

Sam had snuck away from his brothers watch to visit his older sister. His father was off in another state killing some creature while counting the bottles of whiskey he could buy with a 50.

The sound of arguing over took his senses as he sat in the cold room. He watched from the tiny window two girls walking towards the door with a group of nurses.

“Im fucken sick Lily everybody knows that.” You smiled disgustingly at her. To in return she screamed out loud, “you’re just jealous- JEALOUS that i’m going to get out and you’ll be stuck here - alone and sick! Fucken sick!”

You just smiled as the door closed in her face, but not before blowing a kiss goodbye. “That is fucked up Lily, I love you for that.” The red headed girl to which he assumed was named Lily, gave his sister the bird before storming away from the door crying.

Sam stomach dropped as he watched this scene unfold in front of him. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should have forgotten about her, and all her memories, but he was her brother it was like a sirens call in a weird way. How could he abandon family when that’s all he has?

“Hello Sammy,” you pulled the plastic seat out. He noticed the bandages on your arms and the way your hair was thinning, but he still saw the sister he grew up with. The one with twin size braids and a gentle touch of nature. The one who fought against murders but became one herself.

“Hi.” He said awkwardly. His mind was running a thousand miles per hours, what was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to say? Why did he even come here?

“Is it the men behind me that are you making you feel uncomfortable dear,” you placed a hand on his leg, “gentlemen please leave the room I don’t need you causing anymore ruckus then you already do to me.” You ordered firmly.

“You know the rules-“ “Then chain me to the fucken wall or something I don’t need henchmen right now.” You stood up from the chair causing it to fall backwards. Sam flinched at the crashing of the seat but you seemed to overrule it as a ‘they problem’ rather than a ‘you problem’.

“Chop chop, I only got 28 minuets and 42- make that 41 seconds left.” You stuck your hands out in front of you. “Book me boys, but just not too rough I’m not really into BDSM unless you are then I’m fine with a little foreplay.” You grinned seductively as the two tall men dressed in all white groaned in annoyance.

The one to the right of you pulled out a pair of cuffs before pulling you to go get strapped down to the cement chair in the corner of the room. The other man pushed you into the chair holding you down as they cuffed your legs and hands together.

“I feel as snug as a bug in a rug, although a little butt cushion would be nice,” you shimmed in the cold seat, “I can feel my butt loosing its bounce.”

The men ignored your comments before turning over to your brother who now further away from you.

“Don’t listen to what she says, just don’t touch her or unlock her cuffs without us here.” One of them warned your brother to which he simply nodded at their instructions.

“Yes sir.” Sam said before dragging his seat a little closer to you. The men watched as this 14 year old boy sat on a plastic seat in a psych ward facility with his sister in chains - pathetically tragic.

Just before closing the door you could hear one of them whisper to the other, “such a good kid sucks that his sister is twisted.” You rolled your eyes, if only they knew the half of it.

“Welp Sammy boy now that thing one and thing two are gone, what brings you here?” You asked.

“I just wanted to visit you.” He softly responded, “I wanted to see how you were holding up.”

“Considering father dearest dropped me off at the looney bin 4 years ago and no one has visited me other than mom’s annoying ghost…I’m going to say I’m doing marvelous.” You smiled brightly with all your teeth visible for everyone to see. “How about you? Dad still be a fucking drunk?”

Sam laughed, for the first time in a long time he let out a laugh. It was contagious, it was innocent, it was fucking mental to the point you started laughing too.

You both spent a good five minutes laughing at nothing, only getting louder and louder after someone let out a piggy snort.

“That’s a dumb question, sir is practically close to liver failure.” Sam wiped the tears falling from his cheek after laughing so hard. “I mean the amount of times he searches the bottle for an extra drop is hilarious.”

“Oh that’s so pathetic I wish I could smash his brain to bits and pieces.” You let out a little chuckle. “Mom tried to defend his sorry ass but I always push away and threaten to escape and burn her bones.”

“Do you still see her?” Sam asked curiously but the nervousness inside him was threatening to spill out. “I mean if you’re okay with talking about it.”

“Yeah sure baby bro, I still see her selfish ass walking around the place haunting my very existence. She hates me but it’s a whole I get why situation.” You shrugged your shoulders, the harsh clank of the metal handcuffs against the seat echoed through the room. “Do you mind if I ask you a favor?” You asked.

Sam scared to use his voice only nodded back.

“Torch that bitches ashes again.” You whispered. “Make sure she doesn’t go back running to pop pop with words of rebellion I mean besides overdosing on happy pills she is always trying to get me to tickle with her pickle.”

“I’m going to be honest sis,” Sam scrunched up his face in confusion, “i don’t really know what you are talking about?”

“What can I say we all go mad in here,” you leaned back in the chair, allowing the cold material to cause goosebumps all over you.

“I wish I could bust you out of here but Dean and I can barely afford enough food for ourselves,” Sam looked down at his hands. Had his father decided on spending less on the bottle, maybe just maybe he would have a whole family again.

“It’s okay Sammy,” you smiled, “between you and me i’m ditching this shit show when you turn 18.”

Sam looked up surprised, “really?” He smiled. “You promise?!” You nodded in excitement. “I can finally be with you snoozebugs since dad won’t be in charge of us anymore.”

“This is great! I’ll tell Dean, we can come get you out and we can move away from here and-“ “Woah there baby bro, we can’t tell Dean yet.”

Sam stopped rambling and tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“I mean Dean respects dad too much to not tattle on me.” You rolled your eyes, if you had been there you would have quickly unscrambled the assholes manipulative tacks on your younger brothers, but he clearly knew you would be a threat to his revenge mission and sent you away.

“Don’t worry Sam, I will come save you, I always do.”

And with that, the door roughly opened and Sam was being pulled away from you.

“You promise?!” He reached out for you, fighting against his older brother’s hold.

“I promise Sammy,” you nodded, “I love you.”

With the finale goodbye, Dean managed to pull his brother out of the room without any more struggle from him. Sam’s heart felt like it was beating a million miles per hour. He was going to be free. He was going to be loved. He was going to live.

He held on to that wish for years till his birthday finally came. He waited. And waited. And waited. But he never saw you again. It was a dream. A dream he soon realized where he had gone so mad he had conjured up a fake reality. You were dead. You had been dead. You were always dead.

[beeduoo]

wonderful

[ef-1]

girlhood

[quietwingsinthesky]

no wonder missy is insane about him. she just mindmeld trauma bonded with him and got confirmation through him that she was right the whole time about the thing that happened to her, AND then they traded life-saving moments. of course she wants her friend back. she needs him to see her again, as clearly as he did in that moment. she needs him to be like her, because among time lords, she is alone, but with the doctor, she isn’t.

[vaguehotels]

SICK. "right person, wrong time."

[bmpmp3]

post ankle-twisting clarity

[punk-raphaelite]

She wants to try poly and I don’t want to hold her back from that but that’s just not something I want so I have to end it with her

I really saw spending the rest of my life with this girl

[schizowitchic]

also like i partially found out i might be intersex because i was looking at trans stuff and there was like "(however many) months on t and finally seeing some bottom growth" and like pictures of t-dicks and i was like.... um.... that's kind of just what my clit looks like anyways. so i was like "hey google give me a quick rundown on this" and learned what clitoromegaly was and then i was like. hm. intersex resources. and it's like a sign? symptom? side-effect? of certain intersex conditions