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forsaken-at-one · 8 months

Text

Media: Adventure Time

Pairing: Finn Mertens/fem!Reader

TWs: Smut, altered state of mind, oral, p in v sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex, getting caught naked, kinda implied pregnancy, usage of (Y/N), reader is explicitly called 'girl' in the story and referred to with feminine pronouns and has female anatomy.

Characters are meant to be around 20.

Pov second person

Summary: After accidentally dropping an important item into the pond by the tree fort (Y/N) dives in after it. Knowing the possible danger Finn comes to rescue her but both end up in the other dimension.

Minors DNI please and thank you!

You sat near the pond focused on your handy work. You were currently sewing a little costume for BMO who wanted to dress up as a princess. To make the little one happy you used some of your savings, probably more than you'd care to admit, on buying a little custom made crown for the small console.

Right now you studied the blue gem inlaid into the shiny metal frame to make sure the colors you chose for the dress were complementing it well. However the sky grew overcast and it got a bit windy. You decided to continue your work inside the Tree Fort where Finn and Jake were currently preparing food.

You gathered the cloth and the little bag with your sewing supplies and got up. Almost forgetting your prized gift for BMO you bowed down to pick up the little crown. Before you reached it a sneaky magpie swooped down from the skies and stole the treasure from right under your nose.

Thinking quickly, or perhaps through sheer muscle memory, you threw your sewing kit at the thief. It hadn't gotten far and being hit by the bag made it drop the crown into the pond. The shiny sank like a stone while the magpie flew away. Your sewing kit floated on the water's surface. You could imagine BMOs distressed face and little tears when they heard that the crown they had been promised was lost and your heart couldn't take it.

You quickly took off your shoes and socks leaving you only in the summer dress you wore that day, and without a second thought you jumped into the unexpectantly deep pond and dove after the treasure.

Just then Finn had opened the window to call you inside for food. When he saw you diving into the waters he ran down to follow after you, knowing first hand what might happen if you got sucked into the whirlpool.

You emerged in the grotto, the nymphs were absent, perhaps hanging out elsewhere. You used your hands to feel for the crown on the ground of the water unaware that you were slowly dragged towards the vortex that lead to another dimension.

Finally you found it. Just then Finn emerged and you raised up the little crown triumphantly. "Almost lost it, but I got it back!" You called out, over the sound of rushing water while trying to swim toward Finn. The distance between you two only grew however no matter how strong you swam.

"(Y/N)! Look out, you're getting sucked into that whirlpool!" He swam towards you, hand stretched out to grab yours. But it was too late, you could only gasp in as much air as possible and then hold your breath.

Finn saw you disappear underwater and without as much as a second thought he dove in after you. Re-Experiencing the disorienting twists and turns the waters swept him up and out of the strange pink pond.

When he caught his bearings he knew he didn't have too much time before this dimension took its toll and distracted and confused you both to the point of no return. And this time there was no sea lard to save you.

He spotted you, already running away from the pond, the only exit Finn knew of, waving your arms around and cursing. When he reached you you were catching your breath doubled over. "Stupid bird thing! Not again!"

"Hey, (Y/N), what's going on?" Finn asked, concerned. "It's my gift for the costume party that BMO wants to do so badly, I got them this tiny replica of PBs crown, and it wasn't cheap. I already told them I'd have a great gift, I can't loose this thing!"

"And a bird grabbed it?" He asked a bit amused at the absurdity of the situation. "Two!" You cried, "Two different birds grabbed it!" Despite your anguish you had to laugh about it too. Such bad luck could only happen to you.

"Well we really should hurry then, Jake and I were here once and this place messes with your head majorly! Makes you forget stuff." He said walking in the direction the strange bird had flown off too. You nodded and followed him.

"And don't touch the pink stuff, that's really important." He said. "No, wait, purple stuff, yeah that's it. Okay we really better hurry!"

He offered his hand for you to take. With his gaze fixed forward he didn't see your blush as you took it. Neither could you see his, as you only saw the back of his familiar polar bear hat.

He picked up the pace soon tracking down the bird. Atop a sheer cliff it had a nest with many treasures inside. It rested shortly before taking off again leaving the nest unguarded. Finn inspected the rock to see if he'd be able to climb it. Not as physically fit as him, you just took a seat on a small rock, feeling quite useless.

You picked pretty flowers from around you and began to intertwine them into a crown. Diligently you abstained from picking the blue flowers, like instructed. While some strange purple ones wound their way into your craft. Absentmindedly thinking about how you'd ever make it up to Finn. He always helped you out with anything, with no questions asked. You tried to do the same for him, but you weren't as strong or experienced as him when it came to this adventuring business.

You looked up, seeing Finn hadn't really left his spot. You made eye contact for a moment before he quickly turned away. "I uh, I don't think I can climb up here, we have to try to go around the cliff, or find a better spot for climbing." He finally concluded. You stood up and gave him a firm nod and you took off parallel to the cliff. "Thank you for helping me." You said, and although it wasn't much you reached up and carefully placed the colorful flower crown on his head.

Finn gave you a proud grin and you had a hearty laugh at his goofy face, alongside the fact he now had a crown on top of his usual hat. But it fit him somehow. And he joined in your laughter and your heart almost skipped a beat. You grabbed his hand again with less reservations, and you strolled along the cliff for a bit chatting about this and that.

Eventually you were tired of walking and the two of you sat down in a field of soft pink grass. The cliff side was long out of view as were your original goals. "- well anyways, then I said I'm… I'm …" He stumbled mid sentence and furrowed his brow. "You're… huh strange… no wait I got it: you're hero!" You mused while laying on your back watching the strange clouds. "No… I mean maybe? I feel like I'm man! No that's not quite right either… I'm boy, yeah that sounds right, I'm boy and you're princess, right?" He was laying sideways facing you, elbow on the ground and his palm supporting his head.

You closed your eyes for a moment deep in thought. Hero felt more correct to you, but if he felt like boy that's what he was. And though you didn't feel like princess fit you, it touched you that that was how he saw you. You just hummed approvingly. When opening your eyes again you saw a few unruly strands of hair had slid out of his bear hat. That beautiful, shiny hair, like gold. You reached for a strand and twirled it between your fingers. He just watched you curiously. It was so soft, you wanted more.

You scooted closer to him and tugged at the plush ear of his hat, removing it and freeing all of that amazing hair. It sprawled out and was a fascinating contrast against the dark pink grass you two laid in. You raked your fingers through his hair gently finding yourself almost unable to stop. It felt like you had wanted this for longer than you could remember.

Eventually you found yourself massaging his scalp while he relaxed into your touch, closing his eyes. His head was on your lap now and your fingers traced through his hair, along his scalp and eventually you softly stroked along his cheek and jaw. His skin wasn't as soft as yours. He was quite a bit older than when you had first met. Although your memory was too fuzzy to realize at the moment. In reality you had known each other since you were tweens but by now you were both young adults.

You marveled at every micro expression he showed in reaction to your soft touch, despite being asleep your closeness made him smile. Alas your legs were falling asleep and you absolutely had to change your position, after having drawn out the serenity for as long as you could. Praying you wouldn't disturb him, you slowly moved, but luck was still not on your side.

"Hey…" He mumbled drowsily. You felt like you could get addicted to this side of him. Not yet quite awake, so soft, unlike the strong composed self you were usually privy to. You laid back down next to him, faces almost touching. "Hey." You replied, studying his features. A soft adoring smile, his clear sky blue eyes and this feeling in your core. This want to be as close as possible and never leave again. You closed your eyes and moved in for a kiss.

At first the blond was confused. His memories were a bit jumbled. "Wh-what are you doing?" He asked against our lips, with intrigue in his voice. "Dunno, but it feels good." Your hands found their way back into his hair, and he draped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. "Yeah." He said breathlessly before kissing you back passionately.

Your soft lips eagerly explored his and your heart beat picked up its pace. This felt good, right, like something you should have done long ago. You couldn't even remember what had held you back until now. He tugged at your waist inviting you to climb on top of him and you complied.

You were straddling him, your hands steadying themselves on his chest. You broke the kiss to stare into each other's eyes for a moment. His sparkled like a lake glittering in the sunlight. His hands moved up your sides and toward your chest. You held your breath in anticipation but he waited for a signal from you. You eagerly nodded and finally he cupped your supple breasts.

If only it weren't for that annoying dress you wore. You started pulling it over your head, and always the hero Finn gladly helped you. He also made short work of your bra tossing the unnecessary clothes to the side. In turn you helped him rid himself of his blue shirt. Scars from his many adventures adorned his toned upper body. You let your fingers run across his chest delighting in how he felt under you, before being pulled into another deep kiss.

Your underpants started to soak in the testament to your desire as you instinctually ground your still clothed sex against his. You felt his hard length through his jeans and wanted to free it so badly. When the kiss naturally broke you moved downwards, despite Finns little noise of protest against loosing your warmth on his body.

You undid the button swiftly and pulled his pants and undies down together. His cock slapped against his belly and you could finally see it in full. You eagerly wrapped your hand around it and hovering your mouth over the tip. Something told you to hold back though, and your gaze snapped up to meet his. "May I?" You inquired. "Yes, please!" There was a desperation in his voice you thought you never heard before.

You wet your lips with saliva before carefully engulfing his tip. You delighted in the sensation and explored as much of the delicate skin as could with your mouth. He hissed making you pull back in worry. "Did I hurt you?" You frowned. "No- no keep going, it's good!" You returned to your administrations and delicately drag your tongue along his length. From the base up to the tip. His natural smell and taste leaving you wanting more.

You wrap your hand around his cock lazily stroking it while letting your tongue explore other sensitive areas. He winced when you started licking and lightly suckling his balls and you watched him tense up more and more. You found a good pace with your hand and eventually your tongue and lips found themselves back around his cock as well. Free hand fondling his balls tenderly.

His breathing became more and more ragged and his muscles tensed up as curses and praises fell from his lips. His hands fisted into your hair desperate for something to ground him as his head was spinning. Suddenly he pulled on your hair, rougher than he wanted making you yelp. "Wait, not yet." He stammered, sitting himself up as his chest heaved. He caught his breath as his length twitched impatiently.

Swiftly he guided you to lay down on your back and freed you of your soaked panties. Intrigued by your lust he dragged his tongue through your folds tasting your slick. When he brushed up against your sensitive swollen nub you couldn't help a moan escaping your lips. He smiled against your skin, revelling in your lewd sound as much as you enjoyed his. Now that he found your apparent weak spot there was no holding back anymore. He experimented with the direction and intensity of his licks to find the combination that would make you fall apart.

Now it was you who desperately held onto him. Throwing your head back into the soft grass tinged purple by the Twilight. Desperation grew in your core and you arched your back and leaned into all touch he provided. Beyond the sensations and delight and bliss you felt your head was empty. Nothing beyond him, and you and the immediate surrounding. But what more should there be? This was all you needed.

Finally he pulled away leaving you shaking. You saw that he had been stroking his length with his free hand keeping it ready for you. He climbed on top of you, supporting himself on his elbows. His lips ghosted over yours as he eased himself into your core. You bit your lip at the amazing sensation of being filled up like that. Once he bottomed out he let out a quiet "Fuck, you're perfect." Before settling into a comfortable pace.

Every thrust tightened the knot in your belly, threatening to burst any minute. Your fate was sealed when his lips found yours again. He groaned into the kiss, clearly close too, making you wrap your legs around him, to allow for even deeper access. He picked up the pace in turn, breaking the kiss to instead explore your sensitive nipples with his tongue. Grazing over them with his teeth to test your reaction. Your whine and the tensing of your muscles were exactly what he was looking for.

Trailing kisses up from your breast to the side of your neck he first nibbled carefully before testing out a bit more force. Your hands pulled on his hair as tears started forming in the corners of your eyes. He paused for a moment before your eyes met and he knew those weren't the bad kinds of tears. Eagerly he made his way up and down your neck, biting, and then soothingly licking the affected area. All while keeping the pace that had you rushing toward your orgasm.

"Oh glob, please, please don't stop." You whined and with that and a few more thrusts your eyes were overflowing as you clung to him, your hero, for dear life. Too wrapped up in the blazing feeling you barely noticed his faltering breath. You held him close when he buried his face into the crook of your neck as he was riding his high praising and thanking you.

First you lay there just panting, in each other's embrace. Finally he pulled away and collapsed next to you. Both of you were lying on your sides, facing the other. His face was flushed and he looked somewhat drowsy. Then you noticed the flower crown haphazardly lying in the grass behind him. You stretch to pick it up and study it. It reminds you of something. "Hey, what did we want to do here again?" You wondered. "Maybe whatever we just did again, uh after a nap." He shrugged. "Yeah that'd be nice."

Still the crown had your mind in a vice grip. Your serenity was rudely interrupted suddenly by a strange sight. A little old lady, clad in purple, somehow flying with her hair, emerged from the tree line. She freaked out when she saw you. She exaggerated disgust despite clearly peeking at your naked forms and implored you to get dressed again. Embarrassed, you quickly gathered your clothes back and dressed up. She wore a familiar object on her head. Something you thought you wanted to have.

After thoroughly apologizing you offered her a trade. Your flower crown for the small golden one she had. To your surprise she was eager to trade, calling her current crown "trash she found in a birds nest".

You parted ways with her and you and Finn picked a random direction to walk towards. He wrapped his arm around you protectively and you rested your head on his shoulder. By now it was completely dark. Suddenly cries filled the night and you took off toward the disturbance. Little critters fled a clearing in the woods and you soon saw why. A sort of yellow snake, with a hand for a head was terrorizing the citizens. Picking them up, before dropping them again.

Finn held your hand tightly unsure of what to do without any weapons. The hand snake approached and despite Finns efforts it got a hold of his arm. It felt up his arm, all the way to his face, before grabbing both of you and dragging you through the woods. Through bushes, thorns, over rocks, to a clearing and into a pond.

As you were dragged through the water thoughts and memories flooded back into you. You both emerged with a gasp and coughing. It was Jake there in the grotto, with the concerned water nymphs. "What the heck you guys!?" The dog scolded. "You were gone for hours! I had to feel around for you for so long, glob, I don't even wanna know the sorts of stuff I touched before I FINALLY found you!"

But Jakes scolding and the water nymphs chatter fell on more or less deaf ears. You and Finn were quiet. When you emerged from the pond and saw the familiar tree fort again you felt a strange heaviness.

Jake went ahead inside as it had started to rain in the mean time. You and Finn stood there for a while, neither sure of what to say. You wanted to hold his hand again, be just as close as just an hour ago, but now you weren't sure anymore. Did he like you, or was it just that dimension breaking down your memories until you only act on base impulse.

Finally you spoke. "Thank you for trying to save me." "Always." And that was true, he'd try to save you always. No questions asked. He touched your hand lightly, and you intertwined your fingers.

Until he broke the silence again. "Uh, (Y/N), a- are you on birth control?"

You gulped.

~~~

AN: Any sort of engagement is very, very appreciated, especially comments and/or critiques as I'd love to improve. I wanted to leave the ending a bit open because I'm playing with the thought of a part two, but as it stands the reader can decide what to make of it.

#minors dni #adventure time x reader #finn the human x reader #finn mertens x reader #smut #fem!reader #Beyond the grotto

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wrestlersownmyheart · 7 months

Note

Heyyy~ saw your requests were open and was lookin for some Damian Priest content! Definetly Judgement Day vibes, maybe he’s looking to recruit Y/N? I wanna read this and BLUSH, FLUSTER ME I DARE YA!

I DOUBLE DARE YA! 😂 ok thanks!!!

Thanks for helping me hammer out the title on this @auburnwrites!! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! 😀

Title: Love & Conquests Pairing: Damian Priest X Reader Summary: You work as a trainer for WWE. You notice competition between Damian Priest of the Judgement Day, and wannabe member, JD McDonagh, but you don't realize why. Till they both start hitting on you. Then you feel like a conquest and decide to shun them both. But will you grow feelings for Damian as he spends more time around you? And will JD take the hint that he never stood a chance? Or will his actions go too far, causing the Archer Of Infamy to unleash his pent up rage on him? Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Some violence toward men and women.

Note: I saw someone on Tumblr call JD a Funko Pop and I thought it was funny so I used it in this story. Sorry, not trying to be a thief or anything!

Love & Conquests

"Have you seen the new trainer," Dominik Mysterio asked Finn Balor, Damian Priest and JD McDonagh in the locker room Saturday night. "She is a looker, hermanos."

The group was all getting ready for the Fastlane pay-per-view that was to start any minute.

"Really," JD asked. "I'll have t' go check 'er out later."

"Dream on, Pipsqueak." Damian said, his base voice going even lower in pitch. "Keep your mind on business."

"Yeah, okay," JD said reluctantly, buttoning up his black dress shirt. "I'll take care o' business first."

"Why'd you have to go and get his mind off work, bro," Damian said to Dominik. "It's hard enough getting him to pull off a win around here. Why does Finn even want him in our faction?"

"Damian."

Damian looked up to find Adam Pearce standing in the doorway to the Judgement Day's locker room.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to go to the trainer and see how that knee is doing."

"It's fine," Damian replied, giving said knee a pat.

"I still want it checked out. I know you wouldn't tell me if it was still hurt."

Damian rolled his eyes and stood from the couch he'd been sitting on. "It's fine. I'm barely limping."

"But limping nonetheless," Adam shot back. "Go get it checked out or you're not cashing in tonight."

"Wait, what?"

Rhea stood up from the seat she had on the floor. "What do you mean? I thought you were waiting!"

"Chill, Rhea," Damian said, glaring at Adam. "It's not a for sure thing. I was just thinking about it. And if I do cash in, I want to do it on my own." He held up his hands when Finn and Rhea and Dom all three gave him a look. "Look, I just want to win it on my own merit. If y'all go out there and help me, I'm gonna be called a transitional champion. No. I have to do this on my own."

With that, he left the room, a slight limp in his gait.

He headed straight for the trainer's office ready to get this over with. Just as he stepped through the door he was greeted by a beautiful doctor.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched as a very tall, handsome Puerto Rican man entered your office. You felt your face flush, and hoped he didn't notice.

"Hi, Are you Damian Priest," you asked shyly, checking your appointments list.

Seemingly quiet, Damian only nodded as he stared at you.

The fact that he stared at you only made your face heat up even more.

Dang it.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N," he replied.

His voice was so deep and sexy!

He reached his hand out to you to shake and you gently took his hand, and shook. You couldn't help but notice how his hand swallowed yours whole.

"So, Adam Pearce said you'd be stopping by. Let's take a look at that knee." You said, motioning for him to sit down on the exam table.

You watched as Damian took his seat on the table. "Now, don't be nervous. We're just going to do a couple of exercises to make sure your knee is stable."

"That's fine. In fact, my knee is fine. I know it."

"I hope so," you said softly, taking a rubber mallet to test his reflexes with. Then you had him hold his leg out straight for thirty seconds to see the strength in his knee and leg. Then you had him stand to his feet and perform a few squats.

Then, you were feeling his knee to see if anything seemed out of place.

"Any pain at all when I do this?"

He shook his head and smiled at you. "The only time it hurts at all is when I walk on it. But the pain is negligible."

You nodded with a hum. "I see. Well, I can't find anything really wrong. I'd still advise you to not cash in your briefcase tonight, but if you do, just use caution."

"Thanks, Doc," Damian smiled at you and reached for your hand once more. You gave it to him and were surprised when he raised the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Oh," you couldn't stop the half-moaned word if you tried. Then you were flaming red again, you could feel it.

Flustered, you tugged your hand back gently and spoke "If… If you do cash in tonight. Stop by here afterward so I can recheck your knee."

Damian smiled again. "Sure thing, cariña. Thanks again, for checking me out," he said with a wink.

Your face would not stop burning this night.

Especially thanks to Mr. Priest.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"You weren't kidding, bro. That new trainer is a knockout. I think I'm in love," Damian said, chuckling. He punched Dominik lightly on the shoulder and grinned as if to say, "You know how to pick 'em!"

"I told you," Dominik responded, with a laugh.

"So are you going to ask her out?"

Rhea asked the question with her arms crossed across her chest. She was protective of her family and wanted to make sure the woman in question was good enough for her "terror twin".

"Of course! Maybe tonight after the show. She wanted me to stop by anyway if I was to cash in. So I figured I might stop by regardless."

"I may have t' stop by m'self," JD grinned. "I love a challenge."

"Excuse you!" Rhea scolded. "Did you not just hear Damian say he was going to ask her out? And women are not challenges, jackass."

"Hey, all's fair in love an' war, love."

"Don't call me love," Rhea spat back.

"You'd better back off," Damian growled, stepping toward JD. "The only reason you're here on the outskirts of the group is because you are Finn's friend. That's the only thing keeping you safe right now."

"Easy, lad," JD said, raising his hands defensively. "I just want t' see what all d'a fuss is about."

Damian took another step toward JD, threateningly. "Leave. Her. Alone."

"Alright. Alright, partner."

"I'm not your partner. And you're not part of the Judgement Day!"

A loud, piercing whistle whizzed through the air then.

Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked at Finn.

"Ever'body, just calm down!" He nearly shouted the words. "I'm gettin' tired of d'a mayhem! Can we all just get on d'a same page?"

Sighing, Finn left the room before anyone could answer him.

"He's right guys," Rhea said. "Get it together!"

She stormed out next.

Which meant Dom was running after her.

Which left JD and Damian.

Not wishing to piss Finn or Rhea off any worse, he simply left the room as well, knowing full well that if he stayed, he'd probably kill JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Damian was setting Cody up for JD to hit him with the Money In the Bank briefcase on top of the announce table. But JD screwed up yet once more and slammed the briefcase into Damian's sore knee. Damian instantly went down as his knee buckled and he held onto it.

In the next instant, however, Cody had lifted Damian up and performed a Cross Rhodes onto the announce table. Rhea was beside herself as Jey Uso maneuvered Finn into a double-team Cody Cutter. Jey rolled out of the ring and Cody covered Finn for the 1…2…3!

There were new Undisputed Tag Team Champions!

Rhea sat on the floor looking toward the rafters as if to say, "I can't believe this!"

Finally, after Jey and Cody celebrated in the ring, it was time to head backstage.

Finn and Dom helped Damian backstage and to the trainer.

JD trailed behind them apologizing up and down–only to Finn, not Damian.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You watched Damian's match on the little tv in your office and immediately after JD hit Damian with the briefcase, pulled his file from your drawer and prepared to see him in the next few minutes. You watched as Finn Balor and Dominik Mysterio helped Damian backstage with a shorter man–JD McDonagh if you remembered right–following behind looking to be very apologetic.

Minutes later, Damian headed into your office, a more noticeable limp this time, and waited for you to direct him.

"Have a seat," you told him, motioning to the exam table.

"You don't sound surprised to see me," Damian said to you, as he sat down.

"Well, I was… watchingyourmatchontheTV."

You flushed as you said the words as fast as you could.

"Checkin' me out again, huh?"

"Stop it," you smiled, as your face burned even more. "Now, let's take a look at that knee."

"Miss? Can I have y'r assistance please?" came an Irish voice from the hallway. The man that had trailed behind Finn and Damian on the ramp, stepped into the room holding his head.

"Yes, I'll help you in just a few moments," you replied. "If you'll have a seat in one of the chairs, I'm with a patient at the moment."

You heard Damian grumble under his breath as JD took a seat and waited.

"What are you even here for," he demanded. "I was the one who took a hard hit to the knee. Because of you!"

"Hey now," JD sounded defensive. "I took a hard hit t' d'a head. I need t' be checked f'r a concussion.

"Your big head could take a few hits!"

"Guys," you said, squatting down and gently rolling up Damian's pant leg so you could better see his knee. "I'm not equipped to break up a fight. So, please calm down."

"Don't worry, cariña. We're not going to get into a fight. In your office." Damian specified. "The hallway, now that's a different matter."

You frowned as you checked over Damian's knee. There was a bit of swelling, but as you examined it, you couldn't find anything wrong with it–other than the swelling.

"Ice it down tonight and put some heat on it tomorrow, and it should be fine," you said, with a sigh. "You guys need to be more careful."

"Tell that to Funko Pop over there," Damian said.

"Hey, it's not my fault I was given a big head."

There was an odd tone to JD's voice and you looked over at him, saw him smiling an almost perverted grin at you. There was unmistakably an innuendo in his choice of words.

Your face burned drastically, and you frowned again.

Damian seemed to notice and instantly tensed. "Keep the language PG in front of the lady, pendejo."

"Yes, please do," you commented uncomfortably. You went back to looking over Damian's knee and still could find nothing wrong.

"I think you're good, Damian," you said, rising to your feet. "Just ice it and then heat it like I said and rest it till the next show and it should be fine."

"Thanks, cariña. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

He got up and surprised you by taking a seat in one of your chairs. You gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm just staying here to make sure Funko behaves himself."

You grew even more uncomfortable. You felt as though they were competing for your attention. And that made you feel like a conquest. Right then, you decided to shun them both. You weren't going to be treated in such a way.

"Okay, have it your way," you said finally. You took out a pen light and tested JD's pupils against the light. They dilated perfectly. You performed other tests to check him for a concussion and there were absolutely no signs of a concussion at all.

"I think you're fine," you said, putting your pen light back in your pocket.

"I think you're pretty fine, too," JD flirted, his blue eyes went dark and he reached out, traced the cross necklace at your neck.

You stepped back, growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Stop it," Damian instantly said from his chair.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Seriously, I think you are… okay, JD. There are no signs of a concussion."

"Okay, chill, darlin'. It's all good."

"JD. Leave. Ahora," Damian spoke up once again and stood to his feet. His eyes flashed fire.

"Alright, mate. I'm going."

Damian grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and escorted him out of the room himself. As he shoved JD out the door, he turned and looked at you. "Would you maybe like to get some drinks tonight? After the show?"

You looked over at him and gave a slight shake of your head. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but I'm not a conquest. And I won't be treated like one. So, no. I wouldn't like to go out for drinks."

With that, you slammed the door in Damian's face and went to work on filling out the medical reports on Damian and JD.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"Eres tan estúpido!"

Damian swatted JD on the back of his head and gave him a shove into the wall right next to Finn.

"I swear if you two don't stop it!" Rhea exclaimed. "What is going on now?"

"He screwed things up with me and Y/N," Damian spouted off. "He started hitting on her and made her think we were making her a conquest."

"Maybe you should stay out of Damian's business, JD," Finn said, "After all, he'd made it known his intentions to ask out Y/N."

"But, I wasn't asking her out, per say," JD protested. "I was only hitting on her a wee bit."

"You nearly touched her chest when you were checking out her necklace!" Damian growled, getting in JD's face. "I'd say you weren't hitting on her a "wee bit". You were nearly assaulting her!" He stepped closer, forcing JD to step back against the wall. "And now she thinks I'm a scumbag like you!"

With a roar of rage, Damian lifted JD off his feet by his throat and proceeded to choke the life out of him.

Finn, Rhea and Dom all three freaked out and began trying to get Damian to release JD. He only did when he was good and ready. Which was a full minute later. He finally set JD back on his feet.

"Now, go apologize to her. NOW!"

Nodding silently, JD left the hallway and went in search of Y/N, so he could apologize. And hopefully live after the fact.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You were filing the reports into the file cabinet when you heard a knock at the door. Striding to the door and opening it, you saw JD McDonagh standing on the other side.

"I just want to, uh, ap-apologize." JD started before you could close the door again. "I'm sorry for d'a way I acted."

He wouldn't even look you in the eye. Some apology.

"Thank you JD. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm quite busy."

"Would you want t' catch a late dinner lat'r? After d'a show?" He asked suddenly. Hope lighting up his bright blue eyes.

"I-I don't think so, JD. I've already eaten," you lied. Why you didn't just come out and say you weren't attracted to him, you didn't know. Probably to keep from hurting his feelings.

"Oh. Well, if Damian's a problem, we don't have to let him know, ya know?"

"It's not that. I just really don't feel up to another meal."

"Okay, I see," JD smiled softly. "We can go another night. Catch ya later!" He was off down the hall before you could object to going out with him another night.

Sighing in frustration you sat down at your desk and began working on the remaining reports for the night.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Weeks passed with JD continuously badgering you for a date. You always came up with a lame reason why you couldn't, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. He seemed adamant that the reason you weren't going out with him was because of Damian's temper.

Which couldn't be further from the truth.

Damian had been nothing but kind since the night that JD and Damian were at each other's throats.

He'd come by a while after JD had, and said he was sorry, himself–in detail–not just some flimsy apology. You'd noticed that he also looked you straight in the eye and took your hand–not in a sleazy way either–giving it a gentle squeeze.

He'd won you over in the past weeks, plain and simple. He'd been there in your office when a fight broke out between Jey Uso and Drew McIntyre. If Damian had not been there to put a stop to it, you didn't know what you would've done. You were slightly shaken up because you'd never been around a fight before. Especially so up close and personal. Damian had hugged you afterwards and made sure you were okay.

He'd been coming around your office more and more hanging out, and one night he asked you out again. This time for dinner after the show.

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said softly with a smile. You failed to mention that JD had asked you out earlier and you'd turned him down yet again. In fact, you'd not said anything about JD hitting on you at all. You didn't want to start a big row between the two.

So, later, the two of you went to a nice restaurant and had a sit-down meal so you could talk and get to know each other better. You were seated next to the restaurant's front window facing the street, and your menus were brought to you. Within minutes, you had both placed your orders and then were waiting on the food.

"So, how long have you been a trainer," Damian asked. "I heard you used to work for TNA."

"About twelve years. Yes, I worked at TNA from the time I graduated till about a month ago." You took a sip of water. "What about you? How long have you been doing this?"

"Almost nineteen years," Damian answered. "I debuted in Monster Factory Pro Wrestling and trained there for about ten years and then went on to ROH for a few years, and from there, I signed with WWE and started in NXT. I've been on the main roster for about two years and I am loving it."

"You're very good, I've seen your work here in WWE."

"Thank you. So, tell me about yourself. And how did you come to be a trainer for WWE?"

"There's not much to tell. I am single. I live alone in an apartment till I get ready to settle down and buy a house. I grew up an only child and got into athletics at a young age. Got a torn ACL playing baseball when I was fifteen and had to get out of sports due to the severity of the injury. But I had an amazing PT that helped me through the healing process, and I decided I wanted to get into the same line of work. I worked my butt off and did just that. And here I am."

Your food came then and you both decided to eat a few bites before continuing on with your conversation.

However, you didn't notice the car in the street drive by extremely slowly, a pair of blue eyes watching you both angrily…

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

"I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N," Damian said, walking you to your hotel door.

"I had a great time too," you replied, giving him a shy smile. "It was really nice getting to know you better."

Damian nodded, "Do you want to go out with me again?"

You nodded, a flush creeping up your face, "I do."

"Aaaand… would it be okay to kiss you goodnight?"

You giggled, you couldn't help it. He made you feel like a school girl all over again. "Yes."

He smiled and leaned downward, instantly catching your lips with his, giving you a firm but gentlemanly kiss. No tongue. That was interesting, you thought. Most guys just rammed their tongues down your throat, no questions asked. Damian was full of surprises.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian."

With that, he made sure you were safe in your room, before turning and going down the hall to his own room.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

At the next show, the following night, you walked to your makeshift office and was surprised–though not deeply–to find JD standing at your door, waiting on you.

"Hi, JD… What can I do for you?"

His eyes seemed to go dark as he answered you, though he kept up a cheerful appearance. "You could let me take ya out t'night."

"I'm sorry, JD, but no." You said softly, reaching around him to unlock your office door. "I have plans tonight. I've just started seeing someone, and I don't want to discourage them by going out with someone else."

You unlocked the door and stepped into your office, but JD ddin't take the hint. He stepped into the office with you and slammed the door shut to your utter shock, and then locked the door.

"JD, get out." You said, trying to sound firm. "Unlock the door and leave."

"Let me guess, d'a mystery man is none other than Damien. Am I right? I saw ya together at d'a restaurant last night."

You tilted your chin up in defiance despite your growing trepidation. "That's none of your business. Now leave, before I scream for help."

Growing enraged, JD stepped forward and swept his hand along the surface of your desk, raking everything to the floor. Then he pounded his fist against the desk, hard. "I asked ya out too! You should be going out with me!"

"I didn't want to," your voice rose in your indignation. "You make my skin crawl!"

JD charged at you then and slapped you right across the cheek. Stunned, you fell across the desk and held your throbbing face in your hand.

"You're so in trouble now," he growled, unbuttoning his dress shirt from the collar, then undoing the wrist's buttons.

Not knowing exactly what he had planned, but not wanting to find out, you screamed, "Help me! Somebody HELLLLP!"

You knew that you were heard when the buzzing outside your door stopped. Suddenly there was a pounding at the door.

"Y/N? Cariña, open the door!"

You rose from the desk to make a mad dash for the door, when JD latched onto your hair. "LET ME GO!"

The door was being pummeled then. "Who's in d'ere wit' her?" You heard Finn Balor faintly from behind the door.

Then Damian, "JD. It has to be. The little…"

JD ignored the bustle outside the door and bent you backward over the desk. Immediately, his mouth was on your neck.

"STOP IT!" You cried loudly, and struggled against him. He yanked your head back by your bangs, severely arching your back, and bit into your neck. You screamed in pain and fought him even more.

The pounding at the door intensified as JD licked where he bit.

"NO!" You screamed and managed to claw JD's face. He let out a furious roar of pain as he punched you square in the jaw.

Your head bounced back from the blow just as the door busted open and Damian and the rest of the Judgeement day and some policemen came bustling into the room.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" Damian roared at JD, seeing the predicament you were in.

He lunged at JD and tackled him away from you, his face contorted in his rage.

The police stopped Damian before he could get more than a punch in, but a hard punch nonetheless.

You lay against the desk, scrambling to right yourself and fighting tears as the police handcuffed JD and prepared to drag him away from the scene.

Damian went to you, instantly pulling you into his strong embrace as JD was led away. Your legs weren't strong enough to hold you up and buckled. You fell in a dead faint as he caught you up in his arms, cradling you against his muscled chest. He immediately carried you over to the exam table and laid you on it, settling the pillow underneath your head.

"Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." His long fingers traced the already formed bruising at your jaw, rose up to the welt forming on your cheek. He also took note of the bite mark on your neck. "I want to kill him."

"Rhea grabbed a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and handed it to Damian. Finn and Dom fumbled around the medical supplies looking for smelling salts. When they finally located them, they handed them over to Damian as well. He snapped them open and waved them frantically under your nose, willing you to awaken.

You jumped awake and before your eyes even opened, your first instinct was to fight. So you did. You swung your arms out and struck out at anything that was around you.

"Hey, easy now," came Damian's soft voice. His large, warm hands caught your wrists and gently held on. "Easy, baby. You're safe."

You sobbed and latched onto him, hooking your arms around his broad shoulders as he pulled you into a close, intimate hug.

"Shh-shh… You're okay. You're okay now."

"I-I was so scared!" You couldn't stop crying to save your life. You felt another hand rubbing your back comfortingly–probably Rhea.

"I know pequeña, I know. But you're safe now. I won't let him hurt you again. I swear it."

Hunter hurried through the door then. "I just heard about what happened…" His attention turned to you in Damian's arms. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You nodded slightly and snuggled closer into Damian's hold. His chin rested atop your head. "I'm okay now."

The police asked you so many questions your head spun but you managed to answer them all. Then you were finally free to leave and go back to your hotel room. Hunter had given you the rest of the night off–and the rest of the week if you needed it.

You went to move off the table, but Damian kept a hand on your arm to guide you. When you threatened to crumple again, he lifted you up and carried you out of the room, and all the way to his rental. Once he had you settled in the passenger's seat he turned back to the rest of the Judgement Day who'd followed him to his car. "Can one of you guys get my things out of the locker room and take them by my room? I'm staying with Y/N tonight."

Dom nodded in reply and said, "Sure, don't worry. I got this. You go take care of your girl."

With that, Damian got into the driver's seat and drove the two of you back to the hotel.

He carried you inside, and followed your directions as to where your room was. Minutes later, he was settling you on your large bed and was climbing in beside you.

"Is this okay, amor? Do you want me here, or do you want me to sleep on the sofa?"

"Here!" You cried, pulling him against you. "Don't leave me."

"I won't. I'll be right here. Just relax and get some sleep."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, cariña?"

"He'd been hitting on me for weeks. I should have told someone–you. I kept putting him off but he kept asking me out. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"It isn't your fault, sweetie. It was all him. He…has issues. But none of this was your fault."

"Thank you. For being here. For saving me. I don't know what would have happened if you'd not shown up when you did."

A tear spilled out of one of your eyes, and Damian wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "I couldn't let him hurt you." He leaned forward, lightly kissing away your tears. "I could fall in love with you."

His lips trailed down with a feather lightness to your mouth. He captured your lips with his and applied a soft pressure. When you didn't protest, he pulled you even closer and kissed you more deeply, gently slipping his tongue past your lips and tasting your mouth fully. You moaned softly, and encouraged him to continue by curling your fingers into his muscled biceps. Finally, he pulled back, only to find that he couldn't get enough of your taste, and moved in for another kiss. And another. Another.

"I could fall in love with you too," you uttered softly between his kisses that travled down to your neck. He gently kissed the place that JD had bitten so roughly, a show of tenderness.

"He'll never touch you again. Ever."

You smiled softly and snuggled closer against him as sleep overcame you.

THE END

Translations:

"Cariña" ~ "Sweetheart" "Eres tan estúpido!" ~ "You're so stupid!" "Despierta, cariña. Estás a salvo ahora." ~ "Wake up, sweetheart. You're safe now." "Pequeña" ~ "Little one"

If you want on my tag list, just ask! 😀

Tagging:

@oreillystolemyheart @lookalivesunshine-x @shortyiceheart @vebner37 @claymorexpunisher @kalliravenne @swamptrashwithasideofsass @beardedbarba @emisrose @sweetpea-1970 @sassymox @pikapuff-316 @heavymetalgirl420 @bigpsychicbagelauthor @darktammy @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @sultryfandoms @blondekel77 @demonqueen29 @amariemoore @letsgivethisonemoreshot @thelastemzy @springgirlwaiting4fall @vampirepixi @wwenhlimagines @louisianalady @swthrt890 @librathepheonix13 @justanerdwholikestoread @kiwiedge @ironshamelessyouth @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @moxkindagirl @jstarr86 @oliviasinematic @southerngirl41 @claymoresofinfamy23

#Damian Priest #Damian Priest Imagine #Damian Priest X Reader #Damian Priest Fan fic #Damian Priest Fan Fiction

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tipofthemountain · 16 days

Text

actress

tags: biker!Simon “Ghost” Riley x actresses!Afab Reader, Fluff, Established relationship, reader is a famous actress. Mentions of sex and sexual acts but no action is taken. Minors should still take extreme caution reading!

word count: 1.5k

summary: Reader is on set of her newest movie and Simon comes to visit!

a/n: First story I’m posting! I’m a little nervous for what everyone will think but I hope you enjoy it!

ps. biker!Simon is my current hyper fixation so bare with me if there’s like a million more biker au stories :}.

edit: adding this in but my requests are open!

༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻ ༺𖤓༻

It was a warm Tuesday inside studio lot B. A beautiful facade of a two story house stands in a field of white daisies. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes when you walked onto the set. It looked so real! An exact replica the real house you’ll be shooting on in a week.

The role you are playing is that of a farm wife with her three children, except your husband is having an affair with the barns keeper and you’re sleeping with the maid. Neither of you know you’re both cheating of course but the children do. The entire plot of the movie is the children trying to get the parents to find out about the double affairs. It’s a LGBTQ+ romance set in the early 1950s. It’s filled with steamy sex scenes and overly dramatic fights.

It’s the exact kind of movie you love doing. Sappy period pieces. In fact the movie that put you in the spotlight was almost exactly like this except it was the 1860s and you where a young unmarried queen with a “live in maid”.

Your boyfriend of 5 years Simon, or as his biker group likes to call him “Ghost” for the skull bandanna he likes to wear around his face, dropped you off on set on his newly refurbished 1980s Harley Davidson. You swore sometimes you thought he was more in love with that bike than he was with you.

“Make some money baby.” Simon told you after a steamy kiss early this morning.

Simons always been supportive of your career. The two of you met on the set of a Tv show when he was hired as a last minute extra for for some bike scene you can barely remember. For Simon it was love at first sight, but for you it was ‘I’ll wait and see where this goes’. Spoiler: You fell in love and are engaged, set to be married later this year.

“Where is my Anna Marie?” You hear your director yell out as you sit in your makeup chair getting touches done to your character’s signature red lip.

“Over here Clark! I needed my lips retouched. I think Amy got a little excited!” Clark Russel. You’ve worked with him a few times now and he’s always been a joy and a pleasure to work with, not something you find comes easy in this industry.

“Your needed on set in five. We’ve got to have this last shot of you and Blanche in the kitchen. We’ve got one week of shooting left here in the studio before we all go out on location.” Clark quickly spills out with you barely catching any of it.

Blanche is played by your costar Amy Heart. A talented actress 3 young years older than you. You’ve done several movies with her by now. You consider her one to your best friends and even plan to ask her to be a bridesmaid.

“James, Finn and Blanche are all on set. We just need you.” Clark makes direct eye contact with you as your makeup artist finishes the last touches on your makeup. He always insisted on calling people by their character names and you never questioned it.

James is played by Arther Godwin. The man that’s supposed to be your characters husband. You’ve never met him before this project but a quick IMDB search led you down a rabbit hole of bad low budget horror movies that you and Simon later binged watched. Finn is played by Roderick Grant, a fresh face. This would be his breakout role after a stream of hit indie movies.

“All done.” Your makeup artist releases you and you stand up from your seat grabbing the jacket that goes with your costume. You throw the jacket on around your shoulders and loop your arm in Clarks.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” You say in an over dramatic southern accent to which your director roles his eyes at.

༺𖤓༻

After 3 more hours of grueling take after take of Clark just having to get the tear sliding down your cheek just right, to which you where ready to rip his head off. Your just about to pass out on your trailer couch in nothing but a robe and very thin 1950s appropriate lingerie, when you hear 3 gentle knocks on your door. You get up with a puff of air leaving your lips putting your hands in your hair.

“Who is it!” You yell not really wanting to get up to answer the door.

“Open the door and find out!” You hear that oh so familiar thick Manchester voice behind the thinness of your trailers door.

In no time you’re rushing to the door and pulling your bulky fiancé in to your trailer and lacing your red lips with his. Simon closes the door through your sloppily sweet kisses. He smells of expensive leather and gas but you still drink all of him in.

“You miss me tha’ much?” Simons thick accent lets out through a smirk.

“Always.” You smile up at the tall man resting your chin on his chest.

“How was today? Make anyone else cry today?” Simon jokes but you take serious offense.

“That was one time and I didn’t even mean to yell at the poor guy.” You slap his shoulder as you both take a seat next in the oh so comfy couch in your trailer.

“I was only joking love.” Simon laughs and places a gentle kiss to your temple. He has one hand around your shoulder and the other rubbing up and down your thigh softly. You with one of your hands on his much bigger thigh and the other holding the hand that’s around your shoulder.

“Long day. Completely closed set. Only Clark and the main cast where set to shoot today.” Closed sets are usually indicators that you where filming your sex scenes today. You had one with your on screen husband and one with Amy. You almost never liked doing sex scene with men. It was never because Simon didn’t want you to or that you ever hated your male costar. You had this respect for Simon and you felt like the sex scenes could get too real sometimes. Personally, you never wanted for Simon to watch a scene of you sharing a bed(or even sometimes a kitchen counter) with another man. But every time you would ask Simon he would always just say some form of ‘This is all make believe. It isn’t real. I know you love me and some fake sex scene isn’t going to change that.” You still sometimes denied it though.

“When are you off?” Simon ask softly moving his hand further up your thigh.

You knew the game he was playing, he always did this when visiting. He always got you worked up and sweating before you had to go back and shoot a scene.

“30 minutes my love. We have to finalize a few things for today, but nice try honey.” You push Simons hand down slightly and look up towards him. Of course he has the cheekiest smirk on his face.

“I miss you at home.” Simon says kissing down your neck this time and creeping his hand back up your thigh.

“Simon.” You whisper scold him as he makes his way onto your shoulder planting sweet kisses.

“I miss the way you smell…” He grabs your hips and lays your back flat against the couch hovering over you as he plants kisses down over your collar bone. You inhale sharply when he moves his hand under the thin bra provided by the costume department.

“I miss the way you feel…” He moved his other hand to finish untying to robe from around your waist. He slowing starts kissing his way down your stomach stopping at the hem of the very 1950s lingerie.

“And I certainly miss the way you taste.” Simon has a giant smile planted on his face when he plants open mouth kisses down your thigh.

And just when he’s about to touch your center 3 harsh knocks are placed on your door.

“Miss, Mr. Russel said he needs you.” The voice calls out not even waiting for you to respond.

Simon lets out a laugh and you sit up and push him lightly.

“That’s not funny!” You whisper yell at him only to make him laugh even more. You stand up and tie your robe back around your waist and walk to the trailer door.

“It’s a little funny.” Simon says watching you with a panicked look on your face.

“I’ll be back in 20 minutes. I love you.” You place a gentle kiss on Simons lips and him returning the kiss.

“I love you too.” He says back placing one final kiss to your forehead.

Before you leave however you whisper into his ear “I think you owe the costume designer.” and bite the end of his ear playfully.

Simon watches you with his his cheek drawn inside his mouth as you grab the door handle of your trailer and leave him alone with his nothing but his thoughts for the next 20 minutes.

༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻༺𖤓༻ ༺𖤓༻

final thoughts: i definitely got carried away while writing. I tend to do that. I get caught up on details that most likely don’t even matter all that much. I feel like somethings definitely could have been left out and more things added in but in the end it’s just a story and if you don’t like the first few sentences, just skip the story and move on.

@gauloiseblue for you friend <3

#simon riley x reader #fluff #slight smut #afab actress reader #biker!simon #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod simon riley #if you see this thank you <3 #and also if there are mistakes i’m sorry but i’m only human #and also i’m just a girl

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jals-stuff · 1 month

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Any mashle character w/ an elder sister with two/three lines!!! kya...

hello anon! unsure if you wanted imagines or an actual story so I'm gonna just.. go ahead and... mhm. some of them are in multiple spots...

mashle characters with a double/triple liner elder sibling short headcanons!

warnings: lowercase to the max, poorly written

some of them would just always look up to you like you're their idol! everything you do is literally a blessing and you're so so cool, too. they want to be just like you one day, and as long as they aren't, it's all good because they can flex and be so proud to show you off to their friends! they always bring you up during conversations!

—finn, love, lemon, abyss, charles, lévis, domina, ryoh

then there's the "i'll be stronger than you one day, just you wait!" crew, that's actually proud of you but will never admit it. sure, you're a triple liner, suuuure, you have an INSANE amount of magical power, but it doesn't mean anything! yet when you're blissfully unaware of it, they gloat about how strong you are and how cool you look. kind of tsundere if you ask me

—wirth?, cell, abel, lance

there's the cute sibling rivalry thingie going on where you two fight alongside each other and they just keep count of how many enemies they've downed, kind of challenging you in a fun way

—margarette, mash, renatus, ryoh, kaldo, meliadoul, delisaster

some of them want to become stronger than you only for the sake of being able to protect you, because you're their dear family and they refuse to let you get hurt. besides, if anything ever happens to you, they want to be able to take over.

—rayne, margarette, mash, lance

some just acknowledge it, they're neither proud of it or pissed, they just accept that you're stronger. when asked about it, they'll say it's a great thing that such a strong mage is from their family!

—orter, carpaccio, milo, sophina, doom

Y O U E X I S T, T H E R E F O R E, I M U S T B E A T Y O U

—wirth, famin

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

Note

Something that's always stuck with me is Stitch's followers dogpiling me for writing a Jewish Star Wars AU. Basically it was an AU where Finn was space Moses, the last of a noble Force-sensitive family who made sure he survived the destruction of their planet, and when his Force abilities awakened he went on to fight to free the other Stormtroopers. Stitch didn't like that I went in a Finn/Hux direction wherein Hux was a double agent embedded deep in the First Order, sabotaging it from the inside.

I was called a Nazi. I'm Jewish. I was called anti-black. I'm Beta Israeli, black and Ethiopian-American and proud. I was called a Pick Me POC, I was sent pictures of starving Ethiopian children, I was sent Holocaust pictures, people flooded my comments on AO3 - this was before it had a block feature - and even after I deleted my tumblr the hate bled over onto my other social media accounts. I was called slurs, I was told I should've starved to death, people told me my "Jew money" wouldn't buy off people this time, and I got hit by enough people calling me a monster, a bad person, etc. that I took the story down just to escape them.

Stitch only mentioned me once. Just once.

I think the real issue they have with AO3 is that at any point you can be blocked, comments can be turned off, people can find themselves unable to keep clawing at you again and again. You can make it so they have to be logged in to send their threats and then you can report them. They can dogpile "bad" fans all they want, but there are consequences for their actions. I was 14 then and easily intimidated. Many people on AO3 are not either of those things. You can't harass them off their own platform. And when you try, you end up being booted off of it instead.

The real reason Stitch doesn't like AO3 is that it's designed to protect authors, including "Pick Me POC" and "POC TOO" (get it, it's funny because it's like #MeToo, Stitch is oh so hilarious). It protects those of us who are neither white nor onboard with all of Stitch's opinions and, more broadly, not onboard with purity culture, respectability politics and people's demands that you change your content to match their idea of what a respectable fictional story looks like.

This is not about racism. It's about kicking people who are "wrong" aka write anything they don't like off of AO3 for pure, morally good, self-righteous reasons that they tell themselves make them not the bullies here. It's about control. They want you to do what they want or leave.

I've been rewriting my old fic and I'm planning on putting it back up sometime this year.

No, antis, you don't get to bully black people off of AO3 and call yourselves anti-racist and act like you're moral guardians. To be a moral guardian, you'd need some morals. If you don't like the site's policies, get off of it. I am entitled to my space on AO3 just as much as anyone else. I am not Less Than, and the fact that my own people were the ones telling me I was has permanently made me suspicious of alleged anti-racism campaigns in fandom. I know who these people are when they know there won't be consequences for their actions and they're not people I'd trust to run a bake sale, let alone a fandom archive.

Yikes! That's quite an experience for a 14-year-old!

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honkytonk-hangman · 4 months

Text

Just Another Thing – [1]

Walt 'Finn' Finnegan x Reader/OC

Summary: God help anyone who might've thought a nice, stable relationship might bring some kind of change to Walt Finnegan's usual mischief and mild-hedonism. God especially help them if they also thought a girlfriend would provide any sort of calming influence over him.

She definitely influenced him, anyone could tell you that, unfortunately just never in any way that could even remotely be described as 'calm'.

Warnings: cussing, mentions of and talk of sex, sexy body parts, ect. reader/OC is named Kimberly/Kimber, but it is still written in second person and her name shouldn't come up very often.

Notes: oh boy oh boy oh boy you have no clue how excited i am for this fic. it's literally been in the works for over a year. i'd even go as far as to say it's my fave fic in recent memory!!! Im not sure yet how many parts, but the story does have a beginning and end.

It's not necessary to have watched the film before reading this fic, as this is set in the year after, around 1982, however certain character dynamics could be confusing. Also i definitely headcanon Finn and Beverly becoming good friends, hidden beneath a layer of exasperation of course but he is definitely the type to go to all the theatre stuff like come on look at him!!!!!

okay enough from me now heres the fic I really hope you enjoy!!!

You register the alarm on your friends’ face’s far too late to do anything, and the next thing you know you’re clutching the crown of your head, a dull throbbing ache now pulsing under your fingertips.

It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation, you’ve been hit in the head by a ball plenty of times, but the sheer weight behind this particular impact stood out to you. That, and you knew it couldn’t have been the volleyball you and your friend’s were playing with, because you currently held it.

“What the fu–” you begin angrily, already whipping around in the direction you’d been hit, cutting yourself off at the sight of an approaching man, a look of genuine remorse painted on his features as he jogs toward you. Behind him, a group of guys with baseball gloves watch on with various cringing expressions. Just as the man nears you, his eyes subtly travel up and down your figure, his lip quirking with approval, but he keeps his face apologetic. He comes to a stop several feet away, where the baseball had landed, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin at you.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, and it at least sounds sincere. “Roper’s never had much of an eye.”

You purse your lips, but try not to look too angry. He was cute, you realise dumbly, still rubbing your head. Dirty blond hair settled in light waves at the top of his collar, a matching blond moustache groomed neatly above his upper lip. He was tall, broad across the shoulders and chest in a way you’d only ever really seen on guys who worked out, athletes and the like. He also looked a little older than a lot of the students you’d see walking around campus, and he certainly didn’t approach you with the confidence of a freshman, so you figure he must be at least an upperclassmen.

“Well, maybe y'all should work on that with him,” you grumble lightly, and drop your hand.

“You okay?” he nods at your head, and you shift to lean on one foot, not missing the flicker of his eyes to watch as you do, or the way he lingers on your rapidly rising and falling chest before he meets your eye again.

“Isn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last. Hair probably won’t sit right tonight, though,” you complain.

“Big date?” he asks, the teasing tone unmistakable. You lift your chin a little indignantly.

“I’m sure your day is just riding on my answer, but I don’t feel particularly inclined on telling you that,” you huff, heart rate doubling when he laughs, looking away from you for the first time as he grins widely.

“Well, how about this,” he starts once he’s sobered, bending down to swipe the baseball from the grass, taking a step toward you as he does. “The next time I see you, I promise you won’t get hit in the head,” he waves the ball as if you need reminding, but takes another step closer. “And you tell me what night works best to take you out?”

You fail to hide the amused smile that pulls at your lips, but then again, you weren’t really one for playing hard to get. You can see now that he’s only a few feet away, that his eyes are a startling green, and you think you wouldn’t mind running into him again, sans head injury.

“Alright,” you tell him, stepping back with a nod. “Next time.”

It takes all of your will power to turn away from him and move back towards your friends, though you feel his eyes on you for some distance, and make sure you swing your hips just a little more than you usually might.

Part of you regrets not making plans then and there, but the other part of you shivers at the already building tension of your potential next meeting.

Squinting at your reflection in the mirror, you flip your feathery waves once more over your shoulder, before almost immediately letting it fall back where it was. Just as you’d predicted, thanks to the decent-sized lump on the crown of your head, your Jerry Hall blowout was looking less supermodel and more super-odd.

Scrunching your nose as you mess with your tresses one last time, let out a huff, and force yourself to turn away, just in time for Nancy to appear at your open door, her curled fingers tapping gently on the wood.

“Hey Kimber,” she begins, pausing to give you a whistle as you exit your bathroom and do a twirl for her. Your collared halter-neck jumpsuit was supposed to be worn with a ruffle-neck blouse, but you’d never intended to style it that way, not to mention it was tight enough that you’re not totally sure you’d even be able to fit said blouse beneath it anyway.

“Something’s telling me Miss Texas ‘56 didn’t have this particular ensemble in mind when she ordered this for you outta her fancy lil’ Saks catalogue…” Nancy teases. You roll your eyes.

“Saks don’t do catalogues.” you correct her with a faux air of haughtiness, but don’t bother to contend her point. All of your housemates were more than familiar with your former Beauty Queen mother, despite never having met her. The monthly ‘care packages’ she sent you, filled with various ‘in season’ (see: frivolous) items of clothing and ‘essentials’ spoke volumes about who exactly Mrs Charlene Wynne was. That mostly just amounting to ‘eternally neurotic but well-meaning’.

Nancy pokes her tongue out at you and scoffs out a laugh.

“Whatever, the point is; Mama doesn't always know best. You look foxy!”

You let out a laugh and smooth your hands over your thighs, thanking her softly.

You weren’t at all oblivious to the way you looked. Certainly you were no Raquel Welch, but most days you could manage something in the realm of Christie Brinkley or Cheryl Ladd, which was pretty damn good. You had your mother to thank for that, though your dad was no slouch either, but considering your mother couldn’t walk ten steps without someone recognising her from her Miss Texas win almost thirty years ago, you’ll give her most of the credit. As a result of your parent’s contributions, you’d become aware fairly quickly of the effect you tended to have on men, especially College men.

“Did you need me for something?” you prompt after a few more moments of Nancy preening over your outfit, remembering that she had come up here with a purpose some minutes ago now. Nancy blinks, before she makes a soft gasping sound, and straightens up.

“That’s right! Beverley arrived a little while ago, she was asking for you!” she informs you, waving her hand in the vague direction of the stairs and the party quickly coming to life on the first floor.

“I’m coming now!” you tell her, giving your hair one last flip before you move for your door, closing it behind you and quickly following Nancy as she all but skips.

The ‘little’ get together had officially started a little while ago, but you’d had a study group that had run long, meaning you were now fashionably late to your own houseparty, if there were even such a thing.

Almost immediately once you crest the lower steps, you feel yourself shift into focus, totally in your element now, a cool, easy smile finding a place on your features. It isn’t difficult for you to move through the light throngs of people, despite your arrival not going unnoticed by those around you, but instead of excusing yourself meekly past distracted conversationalists, you’re liked enough that partygoers both consciously and subconsciously make way for you, plenty of familiar faces greeting you warmly in passing as you go.

You aren't surprised to find the kitchen milling with guests too, though the music is a little quieter here, so you figure it will remain more sparsely populated until later in the night, when everyone is comfortably tipsy.

“Kimberley!” A female voice calls out, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’d come to expect as much from anyone deeply involved in theatre.

“Beverly!” you match her energy, volume and all, knowing that she was likely already feeling a little out of place among the other guests, who were all mostly part of the College’s various sports teams and who you suspect weren’t even aware there even was a theatre program.

You can’t stop yourself from grinning ecstatically, overjoyed to see your friend for the first time since classes had commenced for the year. However, you feel more than you see the redhead that collides with you, her much shorter frame crashing into yours with a comforting force, and thanks to your non incosiderable height, as well as your many years playing volleyball, you hardly even budge from the impact, even in your chunky platform heels. You quickly hug Beverley in return, but far sooner than you’d like, she’s pulling back and launching into what sounds like a planned monologue.

“Okay! So, you know how ages ago I said I was going to set you up with one of Jake’s housemates from the baseball house?” Beverly starts, already waving her hands expressively, her expression bright and excited. You search your mind, but honestly, you aren’t sure if the conversation sounds familiar or not. You’d had a lot of people say similar things to you throughout your college career so far. Most of the time they were totally off-base matches, but you were always happy to experience new things, new people.

Beverley doesn’t wait for your reply though, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.

“Well, of course the team was invited tonight, meaning I can finally introduce you!” she exclaims, looking wildly over her shoulder, as though the person in question was supposed to be just behind her. When she sees an empty kitchen, she frowns and purses her lips. The glimmer of annoyance is wiped from her face by the time she’s looking back at you, and she huffs good-naturedly.

“I told him to wait for me…” she links your arms as she speaks, and you happily let her lead you to the kitchen door, where a light bubble of conversation floats through from outside. You have to let out a laugh at her sheer excitement, which appears genuine, though not in her usual manner.

The usual manner meaning that every so often when the two of you found yourselves at the same club or bar, whenever she or her friend’s were being bothered, the pretty redhead would giddily inform you that she had someone she wanted you to meet, then standing back and watching gleefully as you casually sapped up the creep’s attention, only to bluntly shoot him down and send him off.

You don’t get the feeling this is one of those times, but from what you knew of the baseball team, you very well may have to do some shooing on your own behalf tonight.

Outside on the tiny back-deck, a small group of people had gathered and right away your brain sparks with familiarity, though you have very little time to consider this before Beverley is releasing your arm and stepping forward. She smiles brightly as she sweeps between you and a man who turns around as if on cue.

“Finn, this is Kimberley Wynn! Kimberley, this is Finn! I am almost certain that the two of you will get along famously,” Beverely announces with a flourish and a wink. You and Finn both blink startled at one another for several moments, before mutual recognition quickly sets in. Your lips slowly pull into a wide grin, and you don’t bother hiding the fact that you’re now looking him over with no subtly, just as he’d done to you earlier in the park.

“I’m not about to get clobbered again, am I?” you begin flirtily, glad that the man, Finn, recognises you as well, though unlike you, he seems to avoid taking the opportunity to check you out again, to his loss. Instead, he smiles big, almost showmanly, and takes up a slight lean on the railing behind him.

“If it’s any consolation, your hair looks great,” Finn replies cooly, and it’s almost as though you’d never parted ways at all. You flick your hair over your shoulder, seeing how his eyes follow the movement before they’re locked back on yours and you already know you’ve got this man hook, line and sinker.

“Luckily for you,” you sniff, though your smile undercuts any real resentment. Finn seems to grin a little wider then, more genuinely than the showman smile. You think the way his eyes crinkle in the corners is sweet, and that he should smile that way all the time.

“Wait, you two already know each other?!” Beverley cuts in, suddenly reminding you that she was in fact still standing there, watching and listening. “How?!” the redhead demands, not going so far as to stomp a foot, but she does cross her arms in a huff as she looks between the two of you in betrayed disbelief, though you note most of her ire seems directed at Finn.

The blonde swings his gaze back to the shorter woman, seemingly tickled by her apparent annoyance, yet his teasing expression is full to the brim with endeared fondness. You get the impression that this was the natural state of their friendship, and that Finn is about to say something inflammatory just to get a bigger rise, which might be a little funny, but you cut in before he can speak, relieving Beverly of her confusion.

“All Star over here threw a baseball at my head this afternoon,” you say pointedly, making sure he doesn’t mistake your happiness to see him for forgiveness. Finn holds his hands up then, and jerks a thumb in the direction of a man in the larger group of party goers on the porch.

“Roper threw a baseball at your head this afternoon,” he corrects you, as though that should absolve you of your attitude.

“Oh, that’s right! You just failed to catch it!” you tease, watching as he winces dramatically and grasps at his chest.

“You wound me sweetheart!” he exclaims ruefully, and despite the vaguely amicable antagonism, you can see now why he and Beverly are friends.

“Then we’re even.” You say. You already agree with the redhead’s earlier assessment; the two of you were going to get along famously.

Finn shrugs in a manner that reads more as relenting than indifference, and at least some of his overly performative act comes away. Beverley scoffs a laugh, rolling her eyes heavily as she reaches out to shove Finn in the arm. He sways, you think for her benefit, which makes you smile.

“Only you could throw a baseball that hits the one girl on campus who’d actually put up with you…” she snorts, seemingly assuming his chances with you were now dashed. Finn raises a finger in protest.

“As we just discussed, I only failed to catch the ball that hit the one girl on campus who may or may not be willing to put up with me. I’d like that to go on record.” He smiles at her simperingly. Beverley regards him with a withering look for several seconds, before choosing to ignore him entirely, turning to you.

“Have fun.” she says, sounding much more like her usual manner, though before you can tell her it’s alright, she’s already spun away, and when you find her again, she’s tucking herself under the arm of her boyfriend, Jake.

You shake your head, and look back at Finn, finding his gaze already locked on you. He pushes away from the railing then, and steps toward you.

“You know what this is?” he asks you, once more sounding like an actor reading lines, and gesturing between you. “Fate.” he says, lowering his voice somewhat like it was a secret just for the two of you.

You cock your head at his odd little act, though you aren’t entirely un-charmed by it. It was rather different to when you’d met this afternoon, despite his blatant flirting then, now it was as if you were speaking with a completely different person. A stage magician, perhaps.

“So, why don’t we go get a drink in your hand, and then you can tell me which day works for our upcoming date.” Finn gives a slight flourish, and while his whole demeanour is still clearly put on, there is an endearing element to his theatrics, a silliness that you might find more charming if it didn’t feel so much like he was performing for you.

He offers you his arm graciously, which you can imagine combined with his hyped up charm, would have plenty of women already giggling into their sleeves, which you don’t do, but you do place your other hand over his warm skin as well, and allow him to lead you back into the kitchen.

“So what’ll it be? Beer? Fruity punch? Fruity punch and beer?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and even though he’s still playing a role of some kind, it’s not hard for you to see through it.

“Fruity punch,” you say decisively. “Can’t stand the taste of beer.” You tell him honestly, watching as he goes about procuring you a glass of the punch you yourself had made, and appreciating the effort he puts in to make sure you have at least two cherries, though, you don’t think he means it to be suggestive, despite your own thoughts going straight to the gutter over the matter.

“So, what you’re saying is; I should switch to the punch if I want to test this theory about you being the one girl on campus who’ll put up with me later?” he asks in amusement, at last handing you your drink, his eyes sparkling. You accept the drink and give a noncommittal shrug as you take a small sip.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, but I’ll certainly appreciate it later.” You really feel no need to go along with his act, not seeing any reason to play coy about your intentions, not in the way he seemed to feel was par for the course at least. You watch as Finn takes a moment to actually process your words, a brief mix of surprise and curiosity passing over his features, but it’s quickly covered up by a much more ‘cool’ looking mask.

You have to crack a smile at his sheer determination to convince you to have sex with him, the poor man somehow didn’t realise he was preaching to the choir.

“You really do look fantastic, by the way,” Finn says after a few moments of awkward quiet pass. You push aside your amusement, and grin happily at him, smoothing your hand over the material fondly.

“Thanks! I feel like one of ‘Charlie’s Angels’,” you gush a little, briefly feeling silly for bringing up the comparison, however, this time Finn’s smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle in that way you liked, making his whole face seem softer and more natural, pouring with warmth.

“Trust me, Farrah’s got nothing on you right now,” he tells you sweetly, continuing to fondly watch you preen, not just at the compliment, but because you think this might be the first time all evening he isn’t speaking from some kind of script.

The moment passes quickly, though, and as you duck your head to accept his praise, you see his face momentarily scrunching up in a wince, like he was scolding himself for saying something so saccharine. You consider telling him that you found the sweetness endlessly more endearing than any of the other lines so far, but you hold your tongue. You had a small feeling that his pretence was really more about him, than about you, at least to a degree.

Finn is about halfway through earnestly telling you about his apparently ‘average’ sized cock when you at last run out of patience. The gimmick itself was entertaining enough, definitely an original approach to picking up women, and you’d even played along to start with, but you can’t help wondering why you’re standing around talking about his cock when you could be doing other things with it instead.

While he’s still talking, you reach into your pocket and dig around for a moment, before you find what you’re after. Finn trails off when you turn and lay the coin face-side up on his forearm. He blinks at it in confusion, for a few seconds, before looking questioningly up at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask before he can speak again, and force yourself not to pump your fist triumphantly when his confusion is quickly replaced with affection. Sure, you knew he wanted to have sex with you already, but now he thought you were cute, too.

“Alright,” he answers simply, fully angling his body toward yours, leaning in closer to you at the same time.

“So, this whole ‘average sized cock’ thing, does it actually work? I mean, has it worked when you’ve used it before?” you tip your head up at him, genuinely curious, but you don’t miss the way Finn’s features fall blank for a second after you speak, his smile fading, replaced with mild discomfort. He seems to shift back from you slightly, regarding you once more before he replies.

“I guess this is the time it doesn’t.” He all but mutters, his frown deepening as he looks away from you again, clearing his throat this time and straightening up, obviously embarrassed. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks back at you evenly.

“Could’ve stopped me earlier,” he says a little stiffly, though seemingly coming to terms with whatever direction he now thought this conversation was taking. You can’t help yourself then, his sulking making you laugh, fully and joyfully, but before he can sulk further, you lay your hand gently on his arm, over the penny, and give him a light squeeze. You shake your head as your laughter dies down, and fix him with a warm expression

“I never said it wasn’t working– in a manner of speaking,” You softly tell him, watching as he blinks down at you. You hurry to explain. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t working, but only because it’s totally unbelievable.”

Finn at last relaxes somewhat, though his slight frown remains as he considers your complaint.

“What’s so unbelievable about it?” he demands, in a way that tells you this pick-up tactic was one he was proud of, though clear playfulness had returned to his voice.

Confident that you were now talking, actually talking to Finn as he was, and not as he thought would get him laid, you feel energised to engage with the subject matter more seriously. You scoff and roll your eyes at his indignation.

“Firstly,” you start, shifting to lean on your hip, bringing you closer once again. “No guy is ever going to accept, let alone admit that he has an average sized-cock, and he’s definitely not going to admit it to a woman he wants to fuck.” You say matter-of-factly, though you didn’t have anything more than your not-insubstantial intimate experiences with men to go off of as proof.

“Guys who really are average, don’t think that they are, and they probably never will because no woman is going to bring up the fact that his seven inch cock looks suspiciously closer to five.” you wave your hands a little, not realising before now that you really had any firm opinions on this subject.

You see the cogs in Finn’s brain turning as he regards your words with something that resembles amused but genuine interest. You figure he hadn’t expected you to really have a point, which to be fair, you hadn’t expected either. You do plan to let him respond, but you suddenly remember something else you’d been thinking about earlier, when he’d first brought up the concept.

“–And! In my experience, guys who do have big cocks, they don’t really say anything, or they mislead you entirely, so that they can get off on hearing you telling him how big he is.”

That earns a hearty laugh from Finn, who shrugs a shoulder in admittance at that point at the very least. He’d returned at last to watching you fondly, and you think once more that Beverley had been spot on in introducing the two of you. You’re pretty sure Finn is the only man who would so happily, or nonchalantly debate with you about the size of other men’s cocks, just as you’re sure that you’re the only woman on campus who has ever challenged him on it.

Finn hums in thought. “So, you believe men will only ever overcompensate or undercompensate?” he asks, but it's more of a statement. He watches you intently as he tips his chin, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

A moment passes between the two of you, before Finn leans forward, right into your space, wearing a pleased smirk.

“In that case honey,” he starts, voice sounding a little deeper now, huskier somehow. “What’s the verdict then?” he stares at you unwaveringly, challenging you. You frown.

“The verdict on what?” you ask, though at this point you couldn’t muster much genuine interest, not when all this verbal foreplay was slowing down the process of getting him in your bedroom for some actual foreplay.

Finn’s smirk grows then, seemingly glad you’d asked. You watch as his eyes dip briefly down to your chest, where his height and closeness grant him a very good view of your tits. He meets your gaze again before he speaks.

“Do you think I’m overcompensating, or undercompensating?”

You blink and stare at him as you process, not even bothering to hide your captivation, but it lasts for mere seconds before your lips are curling into a coy smile to match his own. You copy his move then, dropping your eyes to take in the front of his jeans, but you don’t look back up again as he had. Instead, you reach out and begin tracing his belt buckle. Finn inhales sharply, clearly taken off guard by your forwardness, which was clearly working for him.

You’re momentarily distracted from his belt as you catch sight of the rather sizable bulge forming at the front of his pants, giving you a pretty good idea of what the verdict should be. You lick your lips without really thinking, but take full advantage of the way Finn’s eyes follow the movement, tracing the path over your now wet mouth as he awaits your answer. You lean in, closing the miniscule distance between you at last, and give his belt a teasing little tug toward you.

“Y’know, I haven’t a clue,” you lie nonchalantly, your smile only growing when you use his belt to pull yourself in and press right up against his front. “But I’d love to find out.”

#everybody wants some!!#walt finn finnegan #finnegan x reader #walt finnegan x reader #idk what to tag ethis even

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kaylinlmao · 2 years

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could you do yandere! poly! TBP boys x reader when someone is sexually harassing you (I only say this because I need some more comfort while this is going on)

I'm so sorry that this is happening. The world is fuxked up. I'll try to make it super long to maybe make you smile. That's all I wanna do with these stories is make friends and make people smile! 😁 everyone in this fic is 18+

As I was walking down the halls, I heard someone whistle and say "looking good baby. Come down to my house. I'll show you what good sex is really like" He grabbed my arm and I saw it was Moose, the school bully. "No thank you." I said quietly, pulling my arm away from his grasp and walking off. "Why not? You already have 5 boyfriends! How can you even keep track, you slut?" I looked at the ground and ran out the double doors at the front of the building. I feel yucky. My arm doesn't feel good. He squeezed it too hard. I go slide down the wall on the side of the school.

He's right. I am a slut. I'm dating 5 boys. Billy, Bruce, Vance, Robin, and Finney. I never thought it was wrong to love so many people. My mom always said that I had a big heart full of love and that I should share it. So I do. She supports our poly relationship entirely. Even if my boyfriends do act a little weird, I still love them! Is that wrong? I understand that they don't act. Normal. I've had boyfriends before. I don't know where those guys went by the way. I woke up one morning to the news saying that they were missing and two weeks later they were found off the side of the freeway downtown.

I never really thought about it but over the past couple weeks they've been acting really off. I think I'll just avoid them until they move on to another girl. Yeah. Hailey says they're toxic anyways. The next day, Moose did the same thing. Asked me to go with him to the janitors closet, I declined, he called me a slut and a whore. I know, Moose. I know. The avoiding the boys wasn't going too good. I have at least one class with them everyday and they always demand I sit by them. Why would they want a slut to sit by them? Why would they want to date a whore?

I sat next to Donna in all the classes I had with her. Everything went smoothly until my class with Vance. I was sitting next to a girl named Maddi, who I had hung out with a couple of times when I saw Vance hovering over the desk. "You're in my seat." He said. "No she isn't! I want to sit by her today! I sit by you everyday!" I butted in. "Its OK, Y/N. I can move." Maddi said. "Yeah, Maddi here can move." Just then the teacher walked in. "Have a seat over here Vance." She said. It was a seat at the back farthest from the door. Perfect! Maddi and I were sitting at the desk closest to the door. That means I can sneak out of class before he can grab me!

After class was over, I got up and bolted out the door. As I was pushing through the doors to go outside, someone grabbed my wrist. Robin. He dragged me around the building to where the rest of them were. "Hey, I really have to go. I have a lot of homework" "Why have you been avoiding us, pretty girl?" Billy asked. "I haven't been!" "You have!" Vance said. "No I haven't! You guys have been avoiding me!" As they looked at each other confused, I took my chance to bolt. You are diabolical, Y/N. Absolutely diabolical. I got to my house and ran up to my room, shutting and locking the door. As I turned, I saw them climbing through my window.

"How did you get here so damn fast?!" "We ran, doll. You walked." I rolled my eyes. "Now, princesa. Cut the attitude and tell us why you've been avoiding us." "I wanna break up" I whispered. "What? No!" I heard a chorus of. "Why, baby?" Finney asked, looking heartbroken. I had a soft spot for all of them and I couldn't stand them getting hurt. Finney started to cry. I layed on the bed, his head buried in my neck and me stroking his hair "No no no. Finn, I'm sorry. I don't really wanna break up. It's just, Moose was sexually harassing me and calling me a slut so I figured it would be best to break up. And you guys are kinda toxic."

Finney looked at me with doe eyes. "Please don't leave us angel. We're sorry. We'll be better, right guys?" I felt so bad when Bruce said, "yeah darling. We'll be better." "And we'll help deal with Moose." Vance added. "Please don't leave us." Finney said again. "Ok." I sighed. "I won't leave you." "Ever?" "Ever" I agreed.

Little did I know that Finney was smirking over my shoulder.

Love y'all! :) -Kaylin

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blogger360ncislarules · 1 month

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The 100 knew how to do a redemption arc.

Throughout its seven-season run on The CW, post-apocalyptic sci-fi drama repeatedly doubled down on one of its many thought-provoking mantras: there are no good guys. The “good guys” often did terrible things in the name of survival, and the “bad guys” were rarely through-and-through evil (although they could be “cockroaches”).

Timed to the recent 10-year anniversary of the series premiere, we chatted with Richard Harmon, Lindsey Morgan, and Henry Ian Cusick about how they came to join the show, the extent to which Harmon and Cusick saw their characters as villains during the first season, and why they think The 100 has stuck around in the sci-fi genre.

Murphy wasn’t originally Murphy: he was “John #1,” and he wasn’t meant to live past the show’s second episode. Harmon recalled the process of first auditioning for the show: “I originally auditioned for the role of Bellamy, beautifully played by Bob Morley,” he said. “I remember auditioning for that and thinking, ‘There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to get this role.’ Lo and behold, I did not.” Weeks later, he got an audition for the roles of “John #1” and “John #2,” and after feeling confident that he’d booked it, he learned that he had. He was John #1.

Harmon said that despite his character’s predetermined Episode 2 death, he approached the first episode determined to do something different and have fun with the role. Thankfully, showrunner Jason Rothenberg was watching. “I guess he noticed that, liked what I was doing, and expanded the role in some rewrites during the shooting of the Pilot,” Harmon said, adding that half of what Murphy said in the aired Pilot wasn’t there in the original script. “When it got picked up to series, he emailed me personally—which was kind of a shocking thing as not a lead, to get an email from the creator of the show. He said, ‘I really liked what you did, how would you feel about not dying in the second episode? Could you stick around for the whole first season? Your last name will be Murphy, people will call you Murphy, and what do you think?’” And so went the story of how he booked “John #1”… and how “John #1” became John Murphy.

Katie Yu/The CW

First appearing in the show’s second episode rather than in the Pilot, Morgan wound up on The 100 through a whirlwind of correct timing and fate. She’d been waiting to hear whether she’d booked a role on Chicago P.D. when she auditioned for the part of Raven on Tuesday, chemistry-read with Thomas McDonnell [played Finn Collins] on Thursday, and was on a plane headed to Vancouver by Sunday. She later found out she wouldn’t have gotten the Chicago P.D. role. “It’s crazy to look back and imagine it happening any other way,” she said.

Similarly to Harmon’s “John #1,” Morgan’s Raven wasn’t meant to be a The 100 mainstay. Originally, Morgan said, Raven was meant to die after just five episodes—a shock, when one considers how integral the quick-thinking mechanic and tech genius became to the plot of the show. “I was on pins and needles, waiting to receive my death notice with each passing script,” Morgan said. After the Season 1 finale, Rothenberg made the offer to Morgan to stick around for Season 2. She’d been up for a role on a different show at that time. If she’d gotten it, Raven would’ve died from the gunshot wound dealt her by Murphy. Obviously, Raven survived. “The rest was history,” Morgan said. “As we all know, nothing can kill Raven Reyes.”

The CW

For his part, Cusick mentioned that it was a sense of longing for Lost that led him to The 100. “It was Pilot season, and I had just finished something, and I was reading a bunch of Pilots,” he remembered. “The 100 turned up, and I thought it was very similar in tone to Lost, which I was missing. I read that and I said to my agent, ‘That’s a cool Pilot.’ I ended up having a meeting with [showrunner] Jason Rothenberg, and we had a chat, and he offered it to me.”

While he did almost float Clarke’s mother, Dr. Abby Griffin (Paige Turco}, in the Pilot, Cusick disagrees with the label of Kane as a villain and passionately defends him. Even in the show’s early days, he says he just viewed Kane as “more of a d**k.” Cusick recounts several things his character was accused of doing but never actually did—such as attempting to kill Jaha (Isaiah Washington)—and maintains that rather than being villainous, Kane was simply a stickler for the rules. “Other people were talking about him and badmouthing him, but he was just a man who was trying to save the human race,” Cusick said. “He went about it in a rather authoritarian, draconian way. He was very strict. And then when he arrived on Earth, he went ‘Oh, humanity is still around.’ Then he could go back to being who he really was. That’s my opinion.”

Whether viewers considered him a villain or a d**k, Kane undoubtedly softened up. His kindness and diplomacy helped establish peace with the grounders as he formed a friendship with Indra (Adina Porter), he and Abby fell in love, and he gradually became a father figure to the delinquents—especially Bellamy Blake (Bob Morley). “I really took to Bob quite quickly,” Cusick remembered. “We would joke around a lot. I would call him my ‘idiot son’ and stuff like that,” he said with a laugh. “We kind of cultivated that relationship, I thought, that we were like father and son. We enjoyed each other’s company, so that was easy to play.”

The CW

Harmon, on the other hand, readily admitted he played Murphy as a villain in Season 1—so much so that he’d taken inspiration for Murphy and Bellamy’s relationship from Biblical literature. “I based [Murphy] loosely off of Lucifer, actually,” he said. “Bellamy was God, for this group, and I’m his right-hand favorite angel, but demon, really. Eventually I try to take too much power, just like Lucifer does in the Bible, and God smites me down. That’s when I get thrown out to the grounders in the wild and come back way later, with the sickness.”

When the show was picked up for a second season, Harmon and Rothenberg had another chat. “At the end of Season 1, Jason said, ‘Will you stick around for the long haul now going forward to Season 2?’” Harmon said. “And I was like, ‘Of course, I would love to, but how are you going to do that?’” Rothenberg, Harmon remembered, wanted him to get the audience on Murphy’s side. Harmon was up for the challenge, as long as he was given material to convince the audience that there was a good reason behind Murphy’s notable not-niceness. “Eventually, as the seasons progressed and the fans responded favorably to Murphy, all of my cuts were a good angle, and I was a little more tanned with dirt, and I was like, ‘I think they’re trying to, maybe, make me hot,” Harmon laughed. “I don’t think at that point in my career anyone had ever tried to make me attractive on-screen before. That was nice. That felt good.”

Raven Reyes was about as far from a villain as one could get, even though she, like every character, had to make incredibly difficult choices. Morgan has fond memories especially of Season 2, and portraying Raven’s journey with losing the use of her leg. “As an able-bodied actor, I felt a deep responsibility and honor towards playing a character with disabilities as accurately as I could,” she said. “I wanted to bring justice, nuance, complexity, and the best accuracy to her journey as I could, and hopefully share and showcase her truth, as well as the strength people with disabilities exhibit daily.”

Morgan, too, has fond memories of filming in the Vancouver wilderness. While filming with Cusick and the “adult” cast on the Ark put her inside in the warm studio (and closer to the snacks), she enjoyed being outside in the forest… and sneaking in an on-set nap when an opportunity presented itself. “I can, and will, nap anywhere,” she recalled. “Thomas [McDonnell] almost stepped on my head once, because I was napping on the floor of our cast tent. I blended into the ground.”

The CW

Aside from his bond with Bellamy Blake, Kane’s other major connection on The 100 was his romance with Dr. Abby Griffin. Surprisingly, Cusick hadn’t known the writers intended to take the characters in that direction. “I remember Paige [Turco] saying to me, ‘I think they’re trying to get us together,’ and I was thinking, ‘No, that’s never going to happen. We need to be combative. That’s where the drama is,’” he said. In the end, Kane and Abby had a heartwarming love that lasted several seasons. Cusick thinks that not being told from the start about the romance angle only improved his performance. “The actors had no clue that was going to happen, so we were just playing our motivations, and our roles, and what we thought was right,” he said. “There was no hint of any flirtation or anything like that between the characters, so that’s when it happened. Maybe the audience saw it, I don’t know, but it was certainly a surprise to me.”

Unfortunately, Kane and Abby didn’t have the happy ending that many might’ve hoped for. Cusick departed the show in its sixth season, and Turco’s character was killed off in the Season 6 finale. While The 100 fans know all about heartbreak, it might add an extra layer of sadness to know that originally, Kane and Abby had been intended to have a more hopeful story. “My relationship with Abby was good, and people wanted us to get together,” Cusick reflected. “I think that would’ve happened, had I not left. I know that Jason [Rothenberg] said he wanted that to happen—he wanted us to get married, which would’ve been interesting.”

Cusick also directed the eleventh episode of Season 4, “The Other Side,” and the tenth episode of Season 5, “The Warriors Will.” When he thinks back on those experiences, he does so with appreciation for the show’s crew including director of photography Michael Blundell, and gratitude to Jason Rothenberg, director Dean White, and the cast. “Just in general, I never really got a chance to say this: I wanted to say thank you,” he said. “When I meet everyone at cons, I’m thinking about how we all went through this together. We all have relationships that are unique, because we went through that show. I’m always amazed when we meet up at cons by how fun they all are, and how nice it is to see them again.”

The CW

On the subject of conventions, Harmon mentioned that he and Morley used to take it as a badge of honor when fans would tell them that they hated Murphy and Bellamy. Twitter death threats, too, Harmon learned to take in stride. “It got a little hectic at times, for sure,” he remembered. “If people wanted to hate you so much, I’m so grateful for that. That just means we did our job well.” Harmon also mentioned that he wished he’d gotten to keep Murphy’s jacket from Season 1. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know what happened to it. Morgan, on the other hand, has held onto a few of Raven’s iconic items—including her trademark red jacket and knee brace. “I joked that I was going to make a plaster cast out of my body and display them in my house,” she said. “I definitely didn’t do that, but I have them in a safe place.”

As for The 100’s staying power, Harmon, Morgan, and Cusick all pointed out its continued interrogation of what it means to be human, especially in heightened, life-or-death situations. While the show was airing, Harmon said he called it the “biggest show you’ve never heard of.” At this point, he no longer thinks that description is true—people have heard of it.

“It was cool to be on the biggest show you’ve never heard of, because people would be like, ‘What show?’ and then all of a sudden there’d be five people who’d go, ‘The 100? Yes!’” he remembered. “People who watched it fell in love with it. Or were livid with it. Either way.”

#the 100

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wakeupthemembersofbylernation · 11 months

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Just say you hate Eleven don’t beat around the bush with listing all the reasons Will deserves a prize. “deserves the boy he loves” right and where does Mikes feelings coming into that exactly? So far I’ve learned there two sets of fans the ones who fancy finn and want to see him kiss boys as some weird fantasy and the others who adore Will and feel he deserves what he wants without thinking of the other party.

Only in the ST fandom can someone take a reasonable sentence like, “After four seasons of trauma, Will deserves a happy ending” and utterly twist it to mean, “I hate El and want her to be alone and miserable grrr.” It’s also wild how you can glean “Will deserves a prize” from my words when that’s not at all what I said. I don’t see Mike as a “prize” for Will. That’d be ridiculous. I see them as equals- because that’s what they are: lifelong best friends who’ve been through so much, consistently put each other first, and have made multiple beautiful promises to each other.

“But you said, ‘Will has suffered so much and deserves a happy ending with the boy he loves.’ How is that not proving my point?” Yes, I did say that, and I would say it again in a heartbeat. Will has suffered so much. Here’s a refresher on just some of his trauma. Given the context of everything, given the significance of Will’s sexuality to both his coming-of-age journey and the 80s, it would be genuinely cruel to not give him a happy ending. And it’s not Byler shippers on the Internet, but the show itself, that has consistently tied this happy ending to Mike. It’s been reinforced in every season, and the writers and filmmakers doubled-down on it in Season 4 through the van scene and through aggressively inserting Will into every Milkvan scene so that he’s always on your mind. S3 brought up their hypothetical question of the future through the rain fight, and it also had Will very specifically saying, “I’m not gonna fall in love.” This was not placed in the show so he could be proven right in S5 when Mike iNeViTaBlY rejects him. Be serious.

As I said in my post, this has nothing to do with thinking unreciprocated storylines don’t serve a purpose in media. Obviously they do! Stranger Things has given us a few: Dustin and Max, Steve and Robin, and Steve and Nancy (after they broke up). It is also given us another which I will talk about in a second, although this one comes with a twist. Dustin was crushing on the attractive new girl in school, as was Lucas. Max chose Lucas and fell for him. Dustin was sad about it, sure. The Snowball dance emphasized his general sadness as well as his unluckiness with girls at the time. Narratively, dancing with Nancy was the healing moment he needed to move on. It propelled his character to his Season 3 glow up, where he surprises his friends with news that he is dating Suzie. Dustin liked Max, but he wasn’t in love with Max, built upon a lifelong friendship. The situation is just structurally different.

Steve and Robin? Well, you know the story. Steve developed feelings for Robin (after Dustin pushed him in that direction, I might add) over the course of S3. But Robin was like, “Psyche! I’m a lesbian. Let’s be best friends,” and platonic Stobin was born. Notice there was no grief on Steve’s part. Steve was shocked, sure, but he wasn’t heartbroken. He bounced back in a heartbeat and fully accepted her sexuality. And then the season ends with their friendship shenanigans at the video store. Again, this was a crush. And it had a very interesting plot twist at the end of it. And it served a very specific purpose in Steve’s journey.

In terms of Steve and Nancy, there was more heartbreak involved, since they were actually dating. And in S4, it’s clear that Steve has never fully gotten over Nancy, or at least he thinks he hasn’t gotten over her. But narratively, this just serves a fundamentally different purpose than the situation between Mike and Will. Steve believes he needs romantic love to be happy, so his arc is accepting that he doesn’t. Also, as a presumed straight character (even though I love the bi Steve HCs), he doesn’t have the same kind of existential crisis that Will, a sad gay boy in the 80s, does.

The fourth unreciprocated storyline is an interesting one cause it’s not actually unreciprocated at all. It just seems that way. And of course, I’m talking about Robin and Vickie. Robin has feelings for Vickie, but when she sees Vickie with her boyfriend Dan, she assumes all hope is lost. But alas, all hope is not lost! Vickie is queer too and has feelings for Robin as well. You just have to take off your heteronormative glasses to recognize it. Sound similar to something else?

I bring this up because while Byler shares surface-level similarities to these other unrequited storylines, it visually parallels the situation with Robin and Vickie. So don’t be surprised when Mike, like Vickie, turns out not to be straight. And character wise, it’s deeper than all the other examples by miles. Dustin got over Max, Steve got over Robin, Steve is just looking for any girlfriend tbh, and S4 showed Robin getting over Vickie before the plot twist. Will and Mike are lifelong best friends, and a slow-burn rejection arc would not only make no sense, in-universe it would structurally derail Byler’s powerful connection and interrupt key plots already in motion during the apocalypse.

You forget that these aren’t real people. They are characters. In real life, sure, sometimes you don’t get what you want. Sometimes gay kids fall in love with their lifelong straight best friends, get gently rejected, and then life goes on eventually. In real life, saying, “But I have suffered, so you must love me back,” would be insane. And Will agrees. The homewrecker allegations need to stop. In the context of the show, Will doesn’t think that Mike loves him back. He doesn’t think love can be for boys like him. It rips him apart and tears him inside for sure, but all throughout S4 he’s the one trying to repair his bestie’s relationship while being madly in love with him. Will thinks he will be forever alone, and your argument is that he should be proven right?

Of course, I adore Will. He’s my favorite character, and I’m a proud member of the Willuminati. The shoe fits, and I will wear it. But I saw this Tweet today that I had to screenshot, and it applies directly to the subtext of your ask:

No one should find it strange or delusional or creepy that people ship Will with the boy he’s into. Calling it a “weird fantasy” in any context is inherently homophobic and weird behavior. You simply would not say that about any other ship in the show. Admit that you find queerness icky. Don’t hide behind faux concern for El.

Lastly, I must directly respond to your question,“Where do Mike’s feelings come into that exactly? Why do Bylers feel Will deserves what he wants without thinking of the other party?”

What are you even saying? Accusing Bylers of not thinking about Mike is the strangest accusation considering there are 50 essays per day posted on this app diving into the psychology of Mike. Mike’s feelings are powerful. Mike’s feelings are important. I could just as easily have written a post that said, “After everything Mike has been through, he deserves a happy ending with the boy he loves” because Mike clearly loves Will. It is overflowing out of him. If you analyze and “think of the other party” as you put it, it becomes crystal-clear where Mike’s feelings come into play and what his happy ending is. Hint: it’s not with the girl he can’t even write ILY to.

I could have written about Mike, but my post was about Will, who is canonically gay, deeply traumatized, and whose sexuality is not in doubt. Will deserves a happy ending. “But El is also traumatized, and she deserves a happy ending as well.” Agreed, but her happy ending and the overall trajectory of her character arc simply do not center Mike. El’s arc is rooted in her independence, and I could do a deep-dive analysis comparing and contrasting Will and El and explaining why romantic love is central to Will’s endgame but not to El’s. But I’m sure there are fifty of those already on this platform. I want Mike, Will, and El to all have happy endings.

Anyway, Byler endgame.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #stranger things

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nevermindirah · 10 months

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Booker vibes hard with scifi. he has so many visceral sense-memories of reading early scifi novels as the genre developed in his first decades of immortality. all the dystopia speaks to him for obvious being God's chew toy reasons, but there are times over the years when hopeful scifi stories boost him emotionally in a way no amount of good deeds or warm hugs seem to manage.

so by the time he gets stoned and goes to the movies in 1977, he's ready.

he falls hard for Han/Leia. he too was a scoundrel who fell in love with the coolest and smartest girl around who somehow found his scruffiness charming. he too came of age and put down roots amid galaxy-shaking political and social upheaval. but Star Wars was so safely cartoony in its far-away galaxy that he found he could earnestly enjoy how hopeful it was.

over the years he tore through the novels, he picked up fan magazines here and there, stopped by the occasional con. when he discovered fanfiction, hoo boy. he wrote over 100k of Han and Leia's snarky, sappy, smutty, blaster-heavy post-RotJ adventures in like the first month alone.

decades later, he very nearly had to leave the theater when Kylo Ren killed his father.

some of those same decades later, Nile. she's only 5 years old when Episode I comes out and by the time she's old enough to sit through all-ages blockbusters the prequels have been so ragged on that she doesn't bother. maybe she catches some of the original trilogy on cable at some point but she doesn't particularly connect to it.

Star Wars becomes relevant to Nile when she's in her figuring things out after high school era and she hears the guy from Attack the Block is gonna be in the new trilogy.

rip Finn's character arc and everything else that could've been so good about the sequel trilogy, but there's still some stuff to treasure there, and Nile — well.

a few months into immortality she does a marathon of the whole Skywalker saga. it's fun and silly and a way to spend a few days. the others pop in sometimes to watch with her but for the most part she's enjoying her own private screening. then she sees Rey all alone in that AT-AT carcass and suddenly she can't stop crying. Finn's storyline is just as wonderful and frustrating as she remembered, but the way he and Rey keep finding each other, keep fighting for each other — yeah.

suddenly she's WRITING. she's usually been drawn to visual arts when she has the time and interest to create, but here she is now, writing tens of thousands of words at a time, pouring her heart out through these two space orphans who have living family they just can't get back to and through a lot of galactic bullshit manage to build a new home in each other.

she starts getting regular comments from an ao3 account with a hilarious mishmash of works in a bunch of different fandoms going back years. there's some original trilogy fic on this person's account all dated the same day in 2009, and when she reads one, an intricately plotted and super romantic Han/Leia mission fic, she notices details that make it seem like it was written before the prequels came out.

the comments get longer. she and her commenter start chatting on discord, about their blorbos and fandom drama and increasingly just life. to the extent that Nile can tell anyone about her life, that is. it's nice, having an online friend.

then one day Booker fucks up. he lets a too-specific detail slip. Nile laughs in disbelief, types into discord "hey uh if I'm right about something, pick up your phone," and then she calls him.

years later, Booker will finally admit he did a little hacking to double-check it was her before dropping that purposeful slip. then he'll write Nile a lightning-hot fic where Finn introduces Rey to holonet cybersex.

#book of nile #sebastien le livre #nile freeman #tog #my tumblr fics #mine

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projectmoonlightproductions · 2 months

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Hey howdy and hello! Hope you’re doing well!

(Same anon who last sent the ask about Shada, so sorry to bring this up again!)

I saw the evidence in another post you made- not sure if you edited it or my phone was just being dumb and not letting me see it. Something about it still doesn’t sit right with me, feels fishy considering that there was so LITTLE evidence (and there’s also like, three different accs on insta with Shada’s name), BUT!

I digress. If this is the situation we are seeing, then that’s that. Period.

My only concern is how… relaxed, the reaction has been. Everybody seemed to just say that we should hc gingerbrave as queer instead of… boycotting? Or anything else? Not even a call to draw him with Palestinian flags when I think that, being what actual evidence was provided for and I’m pretty sure is the bigger and more immediate issue, should be the main focus?

He plays the main character, so there’s no real way to divorce him from the story or anything. If it was someone like Cherry Blossom or Lilac’s VAs (aka someone who voices a character with no real role in the story and doesn’t show up pretty much ever), I can see the shrug off. But it’s Gingerbrave, the face of the franchise.

Even if there was a boycott and surmounted displeasure, not sure Devsis would do anything considering their doubling down on Yogurca and its characters, but it’s worth a shot. Some action is better than NO action.

(This is also not to say “oh YOU need to say this or take some responsibility,” you are literally just the only person I’ve seen talk about this besides the person you @ed, but I can’t access their account).

That’s it- love and peace and have a delightful day/night/whatever!

Ok yeah I’ll admit my methods are a bit too simple and I should probably update my post but I know for a fact that Devsisters is not gonna do a damm thing. Shada is still in Witch’s Castle voice acting GB but then again the original post was made in February and WC came out in March so the lines could’ve been taken earlier.

I agree that there should be more evidence however it’s very hard to find

I think the main reason why everyone is so chill about this is because not a lot of people actually like GingerBrave

A lot of Adventure Time fans are drawing Finn in the Palestine flag so I think CR fans should do the same

But yeah thank you for asking and letting me know!

#cookie run kingdom #cookie run #free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gingerbrave #cookie run ovenbreak #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #freepalastine🇵🇸#gaza #jeremy shada

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eekepee · 1 year

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My turn. DHMIS Coffin/Finn Headcanons

Definitely has PTSD, the cause being he has to look at alot of dead bodies and hear about how they died, which as you can guess, some are pretty traumatic.

Has a hard time sleeping, he probably has flashbacks or nightmares about dead people or duck annoying the shit outta him

Expert comforter, being his job what it is, he is a master of comfort, and therefore he often comes off as emotionless, and cold, also he gives the best hugs.

Loves children and his least favorite kind of funeral is those with young children. Most of the stories he hears about how they died, was unjust and heartbreaking.

One of his favorite teachers is the lamp/Larry, because Larry is chill and helps Finn sleep, whether it be, reading to him, talking to him, or just being there when he wants someone to talk too.

He is constantly talking in a hushed tone to not frighten anybody and to come off as respectful, also because he wants to keep the situation calm, so whispering is the best way to keep anyone from getting violent.

Speaking of violence, he sometimes has clients who refuse to belive that the deceased are truly dead, and sometimes resorts to violence, so Finn also knows how to physically calm someone, whether it be retraining, hugging, or just talking them through it.

To double as a funeral Planner, he is also a therapist/ Helps people overcome grief.

Similarly to a turtle, he can tuck his legs and arms into his coffin, usually does this while he is sleeping, or sitting down.

Is not a Christian and has no religion, since the clients he deals with have different religions and as to not offend anybody, he doesn't wear crosses.

Paige, and briefcase, sometimes help set up funerals for those who have more money to spend, and have more extravagant ideas than the basic service. Such as, cremation, or using ashes in crystals, or tree seeds.

Romance-Wise, Finn is similar to briefcase, and usually doesn't take hints and makes everything job-based, if someone tried to say that they really liked him more than a friend, he'd simply reply with "I like you too!" Then continue to read, or leave to another funeral.

Finn usually leaves all the paperwork to briefcase when he has a tight schedule, since briefcase has no set job and does just about everything, from funerals to hospitals, he works everywhere.

Finn planned Lily and Todney's funeral, not knowing that they weren't actually sweet, innocent children.

#coffin dhmis #dhmis coffin #dhmis headcanons #dhmis hcs #briefcase dhmis #dhmis briefcase #dont hug me i’m scared #don’t hug me im scared #dont hug me im shit posting #don’t hug me i’m scared #don't hug me i'm scared #dont hug me im scared #dhmis #larry dhmis #lamp dhmis

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writefightandflightclub · 2 years

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Thank you so much!! I absolutely adored your finnpoe x reader fic series- oh my god!

The small headcanon: firstly, I love the readers personality!!! But I was wondering if poe/finn would have fallen for a reader who's shy, reserved, introverted and sensitive? Someone's who's kinda a pushover for others and is very sweet to everyone, even when it's undeserved. Don't get me wrong, I love the readers personality sm, but I'm not a badass like they are 🙈 even though I wish I was.

I hope this is ok, tysm for sharing your writing with us!!!

Okay! First of all, thank you! 😀 I’m super glad you enjoyed that series 🙏🧡

Second of all, I just want to say that you can be shy, reserved, introverted, and sensitive and ALSO be a badass! There are loadsa different ways to be awesome and badass, and sometimes it looks the way reader was here, sure… but sometimes it looks different! (I just needed you to know that! 🥹)

Third: would Poe / Finn have fallen for a shy!Reader? WOULD THEY?

Yes!!

Finn and Poe would be smitten!

(I do have some Poe x reader fics with shy!reader e.g. mixed signals if you wanna check that one out!)

Here are some very quick thoughts below, specifically on Oe falling for a shy!reader. (Sorry I don’t have time for more depth here! If I had more time I’d include hcs before and after relationship, and I’d also include Finn to match the fic, but the first thing that came into my head was this little story with Poe. Hope that’s alright! 🧡).

Below the cut. Fluff only, probably typos.

You make me shy: Poe Dameron x shy!GN!reader (ficlet/hcs)

Poe is a talker, okay? He’s not sure he even knows what it feels like to be shy. It doesn’t really happen to him? But, he’s an understanding guy, and he’s been around a lot of different folk in his time, particularly in his years as part of the cobbled together Resistance. He understands that everyone is different, has different needs and preferences, and interacts differently. He knows that everyone has strengths and talents and that they don’t always look one way. He goes on like he’s some hotshot, at times, but at the end of the day he generally understands that he’s part of a team, and he’s well aware of all the people working quietly behind that scenes that the whole operation depends on. And, as much as he likes to sing his own praises, he also hates for other people’s contributions to go unnoticed or under-appreciated.

Okay, and then, there’s you.

Poe notices you right away when you arrive on base. In fact, he does a double-take as he watches you in the queue of new recruits, waiting at the hatch to the supply wing for your first uniform bundle. He kicks back on a nearby crate with his morning caf, casually people-watching and monitoring activities across base, but also scoping out the new Rebels. Seeing what he and the Resistance might have to work with. Looking for early indications of personalities and dynamics which might be assets - or liabilities.

At first, his head whips back to you because he thinks you’re damn good-looking, but he continues to be captivated for other reasons. He notes that the other recruits have started chatting in-line, bunching up and forming small bundles and groups, whilst you are standing more solitary, looking down at the duracrete and gently scuffing your boot back and forth over the surface.

Next, Poe notices that one of the bigger, muscular recruits clearly fancies himself a leader (in all the wrong ways), rocking up to the queue and beginning to bark orders - somehow even convincing you to relinquish your spot so he can go ahead of you. Poe lets it play out for now, but he makes a mental note to keep an eye on that one.

Poe isn’t particularly interested in this guys bluster - he’s seen it all before, but he is interested when he sees you raise your arm in the air, announcing “wait”, as this big guy presses forward, halting him in his tracks. Poe unconsciously shifts towards the edge of his crate. Then, he watches you stoop to the floor and pick up something that no-one else in-line seems to have noticed, cupping it delicately in your hands and transferring it to a nearby flower. Poe watches you smile softly as you settle the little creature - which was likely about to get trampled - safely on to the plant, and he can’t help but smile along with you.

Now, that’s the kind of quality a Resistance member needs, he thinks. Heart.

He makes a mental note to keep an eye on you too. And, as he watches you shuffle to the back of the line after relinquishing your space for the little creature, Poe downs the dregs of his caf and decides to circle by the line. “You,” he says as he passes by, as casually as possible. He repeats your name when he reads it on your tag. Your head whips towards him, wide-eyed, but he gives you the warmest of smiles. “To the front.” He winks and nods at his buddy dishing out supplies from the hatch to confirm that’s okay, and all of the other recruits in the line turn to you then.

You shrink with all their eyes on you, but Poe’s smile is reassuring and steady and makes you feel better, even if you can barely look him in the eye.

Poe feels a pleasant heat crawl up his neck as you shyly meet his gaze. Kriff, you’re cute. He gestures again towards the front of the line. “Look sharp, Recruit. Your bundle’s waiting.”

Finally, you snap out of it and nod, flashing him a kind smile, and Poe is taken aback by how much he melts when you look at him all flustered like that. You head to the front of the line, and stars, you haven’t said a word to him yet, but as Poe presses on towards the hangar, all day he can’t stop thinking about how he really wants to talk to you some more.

This same theme continues.

Poe notices you.

As a Commander, it’s part of his job to identify strengths, and oh boy, you have an abundance of them. You pick up on things others do not. Come up with fresh angles on plans once you’ve had a chance to step back and reflect. You’re not prone to being blinkered by ego or a desire for approval or attention, and as such, your carefully devised plays usually prove to be solid.

You care. You’re good and kind, and that’s something Poe values highly.

Poe always makes sure to give you credit for your great ideas too, even when you don’t wish to take it (or on those occasions where someone else tries to steal credit for the ideas you whisper in their ear through briefings) and you quickly find your spot on base where you’re able to excel. You may not be out in the field throwing punches, but Poe watches your determination, optimism, and cool head as a tactician. Poe finds it hard to keep a cool head, and he admires that trait in you.

So, while you personally feel you’re blending into the background… unbeknownst to you, you’re often at the forefront of Poe’s mind.

All the while, Poe remains keen to get to know you better.

He’s a talker, after all, so he knows how to put people at ease during a conversation. You find it easy to build a rapport with him as he’s so open and warm and genuine - wickedly funny too - and he admires the sincere and thoughtful way you communicate. Once you see that he doesn’t mind if you get embarrassed or stumble over your words, you find it easier to be around him too.

Poe starts to learn more about you, and is always bigging you up at any opportunity he gets. You don’t think anything of it though, because -after all- Poe is nice to everyone who’s nice. However, you somehow ease into a friendship, with Poe seeking your sound judgement out often to feel out his more, ahem, impulsive plans. Coming to you for some deeper, more intimate conversations when he tires of the bustle of base. He trusts you with his deeper fears and worries, in confidence, and you begin to see a side of the pilot he has scarcely dared to show to anyone else.

Poe stands up for you, and always encourages you to stand up for yourself too. “I’m just sayin’. You need to know your worth. You’re kind to everyone, and not everyone deserves it.” Poe had melted when you had softly replied to him. “Poe. Some of the Rebels have X-Wings or blasters or their fists. This? This is how I fight.” Poe’s eyes mist over, and he swallows the lump in his throat. A watery smile spreads over his face, and he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, leaning in to plant a soft kiss to the middle of your forehead.

You do take what he says on board, eventually, and get better over time at setting boundaries, realising it’s okay to have standards on how people can treat you. You get better at putting yourself first sometimes, and appreciating that you deserve that kindness for yourself too. But you never stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, and Poe makes clear that he loves you for it, and for so many other things besides.

You just don’t realise how much he loves you for it.

Not until one night, when the two of you are alone together, watching the latest holo movie in your quarters.

You watch the main character fighting their way through a slew of cave beasts, and you breathe softly: “I wish I could be a badass like them.” Like you, Poe, you secretly add in your head.

You sigh, and the movie is about a quarter way through by the time you realise Poe isn’t even watching it.

He’s just looking at you.

You turn to him, his gaze soft but heavy when you look into his eyes. You drop your own gaze to his lips, forgetting yourself for a moment with his proximity, and as soon as his mouth is perceived it’s as though it won’t stop confessing. As if it had been too long for him to hold it in and he can’t hold it in anymore.

“I really want to kiss you,” he breathes, voice soft and cautious and heavy with feeling. He searches your eyes for fear that he has mis-stepped, and your eyes shine softly with disbelief, but he carries on. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you in line.”

You blink and shake your head. “What?!” This can’t be right, surely?

A soft smile lilts across his face. “You pushed Bluto right out of the way. To save this little bug. You stood up to the biggest asshole on base, because that little thing needed you.”

Your eyes brim with tears, a swell of emotion you can’t name yet.

“Nobody cares about those kriffing things,” Poe continues. “They’re everywhere. A kriffing menace. They get in the engines and munch the wires. Everyone else swats them away or stomps ‘em.” His eyes shine softly now with the light of a thousand stars. “But you did. You cared. And you still don’t get it, do you? You care - about being kind. About doing the right thing. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s scary. Even when no-one notices. And if that’s not badass? Stars, I don’t know what is.”

By this time, tears are spilling over on to your cheeks and Poe gently slips his hands around the back of your neck in this familiar gesture, the heat of his palm warming you.

Even now, you expect him to lean in and bestow his usual forehead kiss upon you… but this time, his face tilts to position with his lips hovering only moments from yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

You feel his words against your cheek.

Breath hitching, you fist your hands into his shirt, but even so, you can’t bring yourself to give in to him just yet, and your breath merely trembles in the space between you. “You… like me? Wh- Why did you never say anything, Poe?”

“Honestly?” he says bashfully, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “You made me kinda shy.”

Poe Dameron? Shy?

And, with that confession, when you finally drag him into you for a kiss, somehow you are crying and laughing at the same time.

When Poe’s lips meet yours, they are soft. So very soft, just like you had imagined they would be.

Stars.

You’d wanted to kiss him since your first day on base.

All this time, you’d just been a little shy.

#Poe Dameron x reader #shy!reader

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spaceorphan18 · 8 months

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Glee Musical Retrospective : Hello, Goodbye (Hell-O)

youtube

Sung by: Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry feat. New Directions Original Artist(s): The Beatles

I'll bet you a million dollars this is the first song they came up with for the episode. In fact - this may have been the inspiration for the episode. It fits a little too perfectly with the story lines and as an ending number for the episode.

Story Analysis

The thing that I think is hilarious is the fact that this song works on a few different layers and yet is kind of anvil-ish as Glee always is. There's no deeper/subtler meaning because Glee is going to make sure you don't miss anything that they're getting at.

Well... on a meta level - it's the end of the first episode back from a long hiatus, and ultimately, the beginning of the rest of the show. So, we're saying hello to the show and the characters and goodbye because it's the end. Clever, Glee, clever.

As an aside, there's kind of an unusual side effect going on here, too. The show is not the same after this episode. While the Madonna episode will really push the show to where it ultimately goes, we are saying hello to something relatively new and goodbye to simpler, more built on satire, adult focused show and hello to the crazy teen drama the show is going to ramp up to be.

Meanwhile, with the characters -- it's pretty clear that the song is a nice cap on the Finchel/Wemma story lines.

You say yes I say no (You say stop) (I say go, go, go!)

The whole song is the push and pull of where these two couples stand with each other. The episode itself is a whirlwind of ups and downs -- each side wanting then breaking each other's hearts and then pining for each other... it's a bit crazy in that classic Glee style.

You say goodbye and I say hello Hello, hello! I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

Not to fully recap the episode or anything but... this song is kind of doing that.

Finn was the one to say goodbye first, only to want to say hello again, just as Rachel was saying goodbye again, too -- only deep down she knows she wants the hello.

Meanwhile, Will and Emma are both adult enough that they know even though they want the hello -- for now, they have to say goodbye.

Oh the angst...

Technical Thoughts

So... we're back to black and white costuming! Why? Because the whole message of this song is rather black and white. Both Finchel and Wemma are saying hello and goodbye to each other and ooff tv drama conflict.

I don't have a whole lot to add about the vocals here. Maybe I should be a little softer in my opinions but these Finn/Rachel ending duets are beginning to feel a little bland. They sound fine, but it feels a lot like going through the motions. Also, you won't notice it unless you're really paying attention -- but the back up vocal tracks are again double/tripled/whatever. They always go for that big choir sound when really, there's only twelve of them. (They eventually move away from this style, and I'm kinda ready for it, tdb)

I will say, though, we're supposed to see Rachel's conflict play out on her face -- the fact that she's struggling with saying goodbye to Finn just as he wants to say hello again. It works. It's fine. Their choreography, too, is a whole pull and release, moving together and apart -- another commentary on their relationship.

The rest of the choreography. I just have... thoughts. Okay, so I give them credit -- they're getting better. But it's still a lot of just walking up and down the stage and twirling and a lot of quick camera pans and editing cuts to mask the fact that they aren't really doing that much. Which, it's show choir - they really don't need to be dancing all that much. But it's funny to me the ways they kind of dress up these ending numbers to cover the awkward dancing.

Also -- the goofy smiling from the rest of the cast kind of is a funny juxtaposition compared to the angsting from Finn and Rachel. The rest of the cast seems like they're having a hilarious time -- or doing a great job faking it. (Btw - Kurt and Quinn are kind of giggly with each other -- which makes me wonder what Chris and Dianna were up to.)

Meanwhile - we have Will and Emma angst. And I went back to make sure they didn't use the same Emma reaction twice. They didn't, but oh god are they close. They will use the same shot twice later on in the series...

vs. The Studio Version: There's really not much difference, other than they add the music interlude the original has, as well as a repeated chorus and extended ending complete with Mercedes wailing on the last note. You can also tell there's a lot of autotune going on. Ngl, I don't mind this song -- but after listening to it a bunch of times now, I've gotten a headache.

vs. The Original Version: You know, I didn't realize just how often Glee takes songs and speeds them up. The original version feels so much more relaxed. (I also wonder if that's why the sound feels a little off in the Glee version -- they may have sang it at a slower speed then they had to make it faster to fit the episode.) Anyway, the sound of the original just feels calmer and more unique. I enjoy a lot of Glee's covers, but sometimes they do strip that unique factor from the original.

Also, fun fact - Paul McCartney said he wrote this about the duality of himself. Makes continued sense for Glee to use it for the ending of this episode.

#the great glee rewatch #so's musical retrosective #glee #glee music #hello goodbye #Youtube

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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years

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CW: Drugging, car wreck, abduction, creepy whumper, some noncon touching and implied fade to black noncon at the end, choking, beating

Death Valley National Park, 2003

Music blared in Finn Schneider's ears through his headphones as he frowned down at the map he'd unfolded, sitting in the ground so his car could shade him from the pounding heat of the sun.

Didn't do much - the ground, dry and dusty, was hot too. But it helped a little. He could feel his hat sticking to his forehead with sweat, but everything else was wicked up by the dry desert air faster than he could really begin to process it.

No sleep, no sleep til I'm done with finding the answer, the lead singer for the Rasmus croons in his ear, a plaintive note of uncertainty in his voice. Won't stop, won't stop before I find a cure for this cancer...

He'd found a few rocks, using them to lay the map out as flat as he could get it. On it, he'd drawn his route when he was in the motel room yesterday, and double-checked his printed out MapQuest directions three times.

It should have been an easy drive, but he must have done something wrong. The road looked right, but it shouldn't be taking so long to get out of the park... should it?

Maybe he just didn't think about how big the park is. Everything about America is that way - it takes twice as long to get anywhere as it seems like it should, and Finn spent more than a day just trying to drive through one single state when he went through Texas.

At least he had canisters of extra Benzin in the trunk, so he won't run out. The idea of running out of fuel in the middle of this place sent a shiver down his back. No, gasoline and bottles of water, he hasdmore of both than he thought he would need, which he hoped would just mean he had enough.

Maybe he should just get back in the car and drive.

Finn groaned, rubbing his hands up over his face, accidentally knocking his hat, a canvas bucket-shaped thing in a khaki green, to the ground. Wind ruffled his blond hair, almost platinum at the tops and a warmer honey at the roots. He picked up his mobile and flipped it open, but no, still no signal. Stubborn lack of bars, just like it had shown since he first got to the park at all.

"Scheiße," He muttered, flicking irritatedly at a rock as he snapped his mobile shut and stashed it in the lower pocket of his loose green pants. It was too hot to think, no wonder the visitor building had had stories about people going missing or dying in the heat.

They say that I must learn to kill before I can feel safe-

Finn yanked off his headphones and hit the pause button on his little round CD player, frowning as he looked down the road the way he had come.

Was that a dust cloud? Someone coming?

He reached down and shoved his hat back on his head, a smile breaking out across his tanned face. He raised his arms above his head and waved them back and forth.

The dust cloud became a truck, small and with blue and white stripes along the sides. The driver put his hazards on and Finn exhales in relief, watching him slow and then finally come to a stop alongside Finn's own parked car.

"Well, hello there," The man said, tipping his own baseball-style cap down. He looked vaguely familiar - Finn had seen him in the visitor's center, he thought, along with a couple of families and two young women Finn's own age, college students.

"Hallo!" Finn smiled, staying a safe distance back, hands open to show he wasn't trying to trick anyone. He'd scared a woman when he surprised her back in Missouri, early in his drive. He was more careful now. "I need to ask for some help, please?"

"Help?" The man looked over at Finn's car, as if analyzing it for signs of damage or defect. Then he looked back. "You break down, son?"

"Ah, no, no. Not breaking down. I have been driving so long, it feels like I should be out of the park, but somehow I still am here. Do you know how much longer to drive before I am leaving it?"

"Oh, you've got a ways still. Do you want to-" The man stopped, looking Finn over now, with the same thoughtful analyzing gaze. Something about it made Finn feel uneasy, and one hand slipped into his pocket, feeling for his phone, before he remembered - no signal.

"What if I draw you a map?" The man offered, and the odd look was gone. Maybe it was just a trick of the sun, or Finn was thinking too much.

"Well, I have the map, but..."

"But?" The man's eyebrows raised. He gestured with one hand out the window, as if to say go on.

Finn felt himself blush, hoping the shade from his hat hid the sudden heat in his face. This man was going to think he was an amateur, when he backpacked all over Europe last spring and was nearly two weeks into his American vacation now. "The places are so far apart," He said finally, reluctantly. "I am having trouble with telling how far I need to go."

"Oh, yeah. Makes sense." The man put his truck into park and opened the door, hopping down. He was lean and wiry, in a pale blue Tshirt and jeans, older and with hair starting to gray where it stuck out from under his cap. "Let me see your map, maybe I can put on there how long you need to go, so you don't have to just try and count the miles."

Finn smiled, exhaling in relieved gratitude. "That would be perfect, thank you. My map is down here."

"Well, we'll take a look. Do you have any water,? Gotta never stop with the water when you're out here, that dry heat sneaks up on you."

"Of course, yes." He had more than enough, he didn't mind opening the trunk. He pulled out a bottle and gave it to the man, who opened it and drank almost too quickly, water escaping the corners of his mouth to soak into the neck of his Tshirt.

"Great, thank you. By the way, name's Robert Weber." The man shook Finn's hand, his palm dry and scratchy, his grip a little too tight, holding on a little too long.

"Ah, Finn Schneider," Finn said, surreptitiously opening and closing his hand as he walked Weber around to the shadow side of the car. "Nice to meeting you, too. Meet you, I mean. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, your English is great." Finn, who knew damn well his English was better than half the Americans he'd spoken to, tried not to bristle visibly. "You're German, right? You sound German."

"Yes." Finn's smile was almost shame-faced. Something about the man's interest, despite being friendly and harmless, had him on edge. Maybe the sense that he was being judged. "I am driving America, before university."

"Nice. That's a nice idea for a vacation. What brings you to Death Valley?"

"I saw a photo of a place here," He said, with a shrug. "It was beautiful. I wanted to see it in person."

"Yeah. Yeah, it definitely is. You were out at Fall Canyon earlier, right?"

Finn blinked. "What? How do you know?"

"Saw your car." Robert patted the side of it like a man patting a horse's flanks. "I have an eye for cars, I'm a mechanic by trade, have been since I was-... Well, your age."

"You were also at Fall Canyon?"

It clicked. He didn't remember the man from the visitor's center at all, but from his brief, aborted attempt to do the Fall Canyon hike, before the growing heat had sent him back to his car. Weber had been there, too, walking from the parking lot when Finn was leaving. He'd been behind a couple of women laughing. Finn had thought he was with them at the time.

He'd seen Finn leaving - and Finn had seen him.

"Sure was." Weber shrugged. "Didn't get far. Too hot for these old bones."

"You are not old."

"Older'n you, anyway. Come on, let's look over this map. Here, I'll get you some water, you're getting pretty red in the face. You just show me how far you're looking to get and I'll tell you how long it'll take."

Finn nodded, crouching by the map and picking up the sharpie marker he was using to draw out his route. "I want to get to here," He said as Weber returned, taking the bottle of water from him with a murmured thank you. He took a drink and tapped the unopened marker against a spot on the map.

"Mojave, huh?" Weber frowned, as if he didn't like that answer. "Figured a kid like you'd be camping here. Cheaper."

"Ah, no." Finn smiled, uneasily. "I only wanted to be here for today. I am more or the hike-and-go-shower type than camping."

"Hey, that's fair." The irritation was gone, but Finn had caught it, anyway. He needed to get to his car, and get some distance between he and this man. "So, you are right about here, more or less."

Weber pointed to a spot on the map. "You're on Scotty's Castle Road, but you knew that already. And you want to get to Mojave?"

"Yes, as soon as I can." Finn checked his watch, frowning as it briefly caught sunlight and sent a glare bouncing off the plastic into his eyes. When he turned back to Weber, there were white spots in his vision, slowly fading as he blinked. "Check in is very soon."

"All right, not a problem. You're about three and a half, four hours from there. Spot on the road closer to Ridgecrest is still rocky from the flash floods a couple weeks ago, you'll take it slow through... Hereabouts."

Weber took the marker and marked a spot along the route with a little star. Finn nodded, taking another drink. Weber's odd intensity seemed to fade, and he suggested a few other stops to Find for the California part of his American adventure. Finn privately resolved to visit none of them. And to call his mother from the hotel, once he got there. She hadn't wanted him to go to Death Valley to begin with - she still remembered the family that had never come home from their own American vacation, back in the 90's.

"I think that'll about do you," Weber finally said, getting to his feet and slapping his own thighs, as if in punctuation. "Safe driving, son. You ever end up going by Rancher's Rest, you let me know and I'll buy you lunch, hm?"

"Thank you, I will," said Finn.

Once he got back into his car, watching Robert Weber drive off ahead, he looked back at his map and scanned it until he found Rancher's Rest. Then he drew a heavy black X over it and wrote vermeiden, underlined twice.

Avoid.

He started up his car, double-checking that he had everything he needed, and pulled back out into the road himself. He took it slow, sipping water now and then, hoping Robert Weber would pull far, far ahead.

Maybe it was the terrain all around him, some blend of the heat and light and pale red and yellow-brown rocks and dirt, but when he blinked, his vision blurred a little, and resisted clearing. He had to shake his head and briefly open his eyes way too wide. He honestly just felt... tired, all of a sudden.

Too much sun. He'd been out in the sun all day, really, it makes sense he'd get tired as soon as he was safely in a car with air conditioning.

He shook himself a little, both hands on the wheel, and focused on at least making it to Darwin, the closest real town where he could get some fuel for his little rental car. The sun was moving across the sky, and Finn was glad he'd decided to come in spring, before the worst, most dangerous heat became commonplace.

As he drove, his eyes grew heavier, and he had to stifle a yawn.

Finally, his chin dropped. His eyes closed - just for one second. Just for a long blink.

Finn woke up off the road, his car's engine slowly ticking to idle, the smell of gasoline in the air. Everything was tinted gold and orange around him, the sun setting spectacularly.

How long had he been out?

Had he fallen asleep?

His head swung heavy, a weight he couldn't hold. His chest hurt, burned where his seatbelt was, and one of his legs throbbed, sending agony up into his hip and his side with every beat of his heart.

He had to blink, bleary and barely conscious, to realize he must have wrecked. His airbag had gone off, slowly deflating now, a white smear before his face. He groaned, shaking his head. "Was ist gerade passiert?"

His hand fumbled for the ignition, then he froze. Staring.

There were no car keys hanging there.

"Was...?"

Finn unbuckled his seatbelt and tried to sit up, grunting with the pain as his ribs protested every attempt at a deep breath. He tried feeling around the dash, even looked at the passenger's seat, his CD book a heavy black brick. No keys.

"Wo ist es hin? Oh, Gott..."

The fumes from the fuel that must be leaking out somewhere were making him dizzy and nauseous, his head spinning. He managed to get the door open, but when he tried to stand he screamed as his leg simply buckled beneath him and sent him straight down to the dirt.

He had to crawl on his belly, pulling himself with his elbows and fingers, dragging dust up. He sneezed and then whimpered. It hurt to sneeze - was his nose injured, too?

Finn looked down and saw blood on the dirt. He raised one hand to touch the skin between nose and upper lip, and his fingers came away red.

"Might want to get that looked at," A familiar voice said, and Finn flinched in sheer surprise, rolling into his side and looking up and to his left with wide eyes.

Robert Weber was standing there - maybe had been there the whole time, silently watching Finn struggle, listening to his sounds of pain.

Smiling.

He was smiling.

Behind his head, stars began to wink into view as the light stopped blocking the sight of space.

"Was... What happened?" Finn could make it to his hands and knees, but he didn't dare try to stand again.

"Did no one ever tell you to pull over when you get real tired while driving?" Robert sighed, as if he were a parent disappointed in a child, and walked towards him, step by calm and casual step. "I've had to follow your tracks for more than two miles, you just drove off into Dreamland, did you?"

"What...?" Finn looked around.

There was no road. Only dirt and creosote and the skitter of some small creature fleeing nearby. He had gone so far off the road that he couldn't see any sign of it anymore.

"How..."

"Doesn't matter." Weber walked over to him, and Finn could see now, through the blur of whatever was wrong with his eyes, that he had something in his hand. Finn's eye went wide as he saw metal glinting in the light, a loop of metal, and he tried to scramble backwards, but as soon as he tried to get up, limping and dragging his injured leg, the world spun once again and he lost his balance, crashing hard on one shoulder as he fell. His mobile fell out of his pants pocket and scraped the ground.

He grabbed for it, fumbling with sweaty fingers before he flipped it open, looking, looking-

No signal.

Zero bars.

He let out a cry as the mobile was yanked right out of his hand, Weber winding back and throwing it as hard as he could. Finn watched it disappear into the distance. He didn't even hear where it landed.

"You won't need that anymore," Weber said, cheerfully. He dropped the loop of metal around Finn's neck, choke-chain collar and leash, and yanked hard enough that the barbs dug into soft skin, the loop cut off his air. Finn gasped, hands clawing at the chain even as Weber yanked backwards, forcing him to move that direction. Spots danced along his vision, flashes of white pinpoints, his brain's dire warning that there wasn't enough air, just in case the burning of his lungs wasn't message enough.

"Nein-... N-nein, nein-" His voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper. Weber paused, letting him follow enough to get some slack, just a little air, feeling blood trickling ticklish down his neck, to take one wheezing breath-

And then he yanked on it again. They traveled that way, Finn stumbling and crawling and coughing and bleeding, Weber moving with solid, inevitable determination, dragging his captive with him. He could never get enough of a grip to yank the chain off, never had enough time to do more than manage one quick breath, then another. Everything came down to whether or not he could get one single good hit of air. The entire world narrowed to the panic when he didn't.

Then they came to a stop and Weber let the leash go slack. Finn groaned, curling over himself, tears making tracks on the dust and dirt now ground into his face. His hands went up, shaking, to finally loosen the chain and take it off.

"Hey!" He got a swat to the back of the head and then Weber grabbed one of his hands by the wrist, yanking it down and backwards until his shoulder screamed in protest and so did he. "Keep your hand off your collar or I'll cut off your fucking head!"

The nice friendly voice from earlier was gone, replaced by a blinding, vicious, single-minded rage. Finn's hands were moved quick and fast behind him, handcuffed together with metal cuffs that dug so sharply into Finn's skin he knew there was something different about them. Sharper edges. His wrists began to bleed, too.

"Nein-... No, do not do this-" Weber looked unmoved. Finn found himself babbling, terrified of the solid expression of malicious nothing on that square-jawed narrow face. "Do not, please, please what are you doing, please-"

"Come on." Weber yanked him to his feet - or foot, his leg was a shriek when he tried to put weight on it. He had to hop one-legged as Weber walked him around to the passenger side of his truck, shoving him inside.

He tried to kick out with his good leg, catching Weber under the chin.

His triumph was short lived - Weber punched him across the face in response. The world exploded in black and white. His body went limp.

He felt duct tape over his mouth, wound around and around his head. It was pressed with a palm against his lips, along the sides of his face. He grunted, muffled, shaking his head, the only protest he could manage now.

His ankles were tied together with scratchy, cheap nylon rope, knots pulled so tight they'd have to be cut off, not untied.

"I wanted those pretty girls," Weber said, conversational again. He patted Finn on the thigh, then left his hand there, heavy and hot. Weber shifted his hand down until it was along the inside, then slowly moved it upwards, tracing the inside seam. "But... you'll do. And I like your hair."

Finn whimpered, shaking his head frantically, but as Weber buckled him in with one hand and began fondling directly between his legs with the other, there was nowhere for him to go. Nothing he could do beyond squirming, and shivering at the lick of warmth and heat and disgust, the rush of nausea and loathing within him. Weber frowned, working him harder when he didn't get hard or react.

Then he pulled back and slapped his hand down hard. Finn's neck veins bulged as he screamed behind his gag, eyes wide.

"Well. You'll learn." Weber's voice was mild as he listened to Finn sobbing. "Anyway, time to go. You just wait patiently," Weber said, giving him one good squeeze right over his zipper - enough to pull another whimper out of him as pain throbbed there now, too. He even gave a vicious twist, listening to the higher-pitched cry with a grin. "Gotta clean up," He explained, like a patient teacher. "You just sit right here and wait for me. God, you're a good lookin' young man, aren't you? Well, don't worry, they'll find your car. People go missing in Death Valley every single year. They've a great system for it now, hunting down the assholes who go off-roading or just don't know what they're in for. Sad, though, that they won't find you."

Weber turned away, closing the door with a heavy, solid thunk that made Finn jump.

He watched Robert Weber grab a broom from the back of his truck, watched him sweep away his own footprints, until the dirt showed no sign of anything but Finn's desperate crawl.

Finn wondered why he bothered sweeping, when there would be tire tracks from his truck. But even that thought came slow and sluggish, working around exhaustion and the insistent ache of just about every part of his body.

Tears welled again, and he felt them run hot down his cheeks over the duct tape, and he leaned over, beginning to sob, even as his rib flared and protested with every shake of his shoulders, every shudder of panic.

Robert came back, tossing the broom back into the truck bed, following it up by packing away Finn's case of water bottles, his extra fuel canisters, even the suitcase full of his clothes, his return flight tickets, his passport... Every easy hint towards who the car was being driven by. Each thump behind him made Finn cry harder, until he could barely breathe even through his nose and his sounds from behind the duct tape had become a trapped animal's wails.

Somewhere, off in the distance, a coyote howled, a quick barking sound followed by the longer exhalation. Another answered it.

When Weber got back in the truck, he picked up the chain leash to his newest captive's new collar, then shifted into gear, easing his truck over the bumpy terrain back towards the road.

The last thing Robert Weber had taken from Finn Schneider's car was his map, neatly folded, a trophy to keep after his successful hunt.

He listened to Finn cry, smiling, as he turned the dial on his truck radio, searching for a station that carried the news.

As they drove down the highway, the desert sunset ahead and the night sky behind, Robert's hand found its way between Finn's legs again.

"Either you focus real hard and come in your pants for me," Robert Weber said, in a low voice, "Or when we get back I'll beat the ever-loving shit out of that broken leg."

Finn looked at him with wide eyes, shaking his head. He groaned when Robert started to roll his palm over his fly again, still shaking his head. Eventually, with a tug on the chain that briefly stole his breath again, he closed his eyes, breathed as deep as he could through his nose, and nodded.

His knees shifted just a little apart, tipping his hips back.

Robert Weber grinned.

He couldn't wait to welcome his newest guest home to take his place with all the others.

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @whump-tr0pes @evermetnotforgotten @whumpiary @hackles-up @orchidscript

#whump #pet whump #box boy universe #box boy #bbu #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #sadistic whumper #noncon touching #noncon tw #fade to black but still #finn schneider #robert weber #kidnapping #abduction #drugging tw #car crash #car wreck #death valley fic

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