#it’s driving Walker nuts

[little-pondhead]

After Danny is crowned Ghost King, Amity Park becomes detached from the mortal realm and is suspended between the two realms, much like Danny is. In an effort to combat this isolation from the rest of the world, Danny opens up his castle to the residents of Amity. (Not his Lair, just the castle he earned via conquest.)

Now the castle is more like a community center, and it’s constantly filled with both humans and ghosts coming and going. The Amity Parkers are already liminal, so visiting the Zone is actually healthy for them! The school takes the kids on regular field trips, ghost vs. human competitions get very heated, and overall everyone bonds over their shared freakiness and comes to terms with the fact they’ll never venture out into their world ever again.

But just because they’re detached from their world, doesn’t mean the residents of Amity can’t visit other worlds. :)

And it just so happens that their new community castle is filled to the brim with magic doors and ancient treasures to help aid on their noble quest of inter-dimensional grocery shopping.

[tavern-cat]

I need an interviewer to ask Benjamin Walker his opinion on Gil Galads ancestry for fun.

[fear-is-truth]

⋆𐙚 ₊ no nut november .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james march ‧ kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff

tate langdon ── 11/04

acts like he’s on board with the challenge at first, but it doesn’t take long for the strain to start showing. he’s not used to this level of restraint—especially when it’s you asking him.

managed to make it a few days but is visibly frustrated whenever he sees you, especially if you’re walking around wearing his sweater, licking a lollipop or basically just breathing and existing.

makes whiny complaints about how pointless this is. absolutely tries to cop a feel here and there.

after you caught him jerking off into your panties, he tries to convince you to just drop the whole idea so he can fuck you properly.

if all else fails, tate will try to initiate when you’re half-asleep. you’ll wake up to find him sidling closer, hands roaming, whispering in your ear about how “you can’t really mean this.”

it’s only day four, and tate’s already driving himself (and you) crazy. he trails behind you through every room in the house, whining about how “this whole challenge is fucking stupid.” and “what’d you expect me to do when you’re at school, huh? can’t even jerk off,” he complains, dragging his feet as he follows you into the kitchen. you laugh a little, shaking your head as you reach for a glass of water.

“it’s not that hard, tate. you’ll be fine,” you tell him, but you can feel his eyes trailing down, settling on your legs and the edge of your sundress.

“yeah?” before you can react, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and pulling you close. he’s warm, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you back against him. you can feel him grinding slowly, enough to make you feel the hard outline of his cock press against your ass.

“tate,” you warn, but he just huffs in indignation, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re killing me, is that what you want?” he whines, but you reach back and give him a gentle shove, slipping out of his arms. “you’re already dead, tate.” he watches you, eyes shiny with hurt and longing before shoving his hands in his pockets and sulking off.

kit walker ── 11/15

kit genuinely tries, especially since you’re the one who proposed the challenge, but it’s hard. he’s always been affectionate and has a naturally high sex drive, so this test of willpower isn’t easy for him.

he’s restless and a little grumpy, occasionally making passing comments like, “don’t know how you expect me to do this” with a plaintive sigh that make it clear he’s barely holding it together.

kit has been sitting at the kitchen table for the past half hour, cigarette in hand, eyes locked on you the entire time as you’re working on a blueberry pie. it’s been two long weeks of restraint, and he’s been doing his best to keep his promise—but right now, watching you bustle around while wearing a apron, he feels his patience slipping.

finally, he stands, moving to the window above the sink and pulling open the blinds just enough to check the yard. outside, the kids are laughing and running, entirely preoccupied. satisfied, he lets the blinds fall back into place, turning his attention fully on you.

you look over your shoulder as he steps up behind you, that barely concealed hunger in his eye. “you hungry?” you ask, feigning innocence as you press the last bit of dough into the pie tin. he huffs a low laugh, his hands already slipping around your waist. “mhm. you can say that. not for pie, though.” he murmurs, voice vibrating against your cheek.

you raise an eyebrow, half-smiling as you remind him, “i thought you were trying to hold out.” kit lets his hands settle on your hips, pulling you back against him. “i was,” he says, dropping his head to press a kiss just below your ear, “but i don’t think i can keep it up anymore. i’ve been watchin’ you all afternoon, and all i can think about is you.”

his lips trail slowly along your neck as his fingers trace along the curves of your ass. “the kids’ll be fine outside,” he coos. “think it’s time i tapped out of this whole challenge,” and before you can protest, his mouth is on yours, firm and warm, every bit of his two-week restraint unraveling.

pre death .ᐟ kyle spencer ── completed

self control king. his frat brothers are amazed he’s lasted, even with all their attempts to sabotage him.

they constantly send him twitter porn links, show him porn mags or try to bribe you to help make him crack. but kyle doesn’t even budge.

you still have your daily cuddling routine, and he eats you out regularly because he’s a selfless boyfriend.

kyle’s fraternity decided to make a big deal out of the “no nut november trend”. they all took the challenge together, but one by one, his frat brothers dropped out, and by week four, kyle’s the last man still standing. you watch your boyfriend with a mix of admiration and slight frustration. it’s not that you want him to give in; it’s just… maybe you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to, at least a little.

you’re sitting with him in his room one night, the faint buzz of a party downstairs, but kyle’s paying it no mind. he’s stretched out on his bed, flipping through a class notebook, looking completely unbothered. you watch him for a moment, then sighs.

“kyle, i don’t know how you do it,”

he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “what can i say? i’ve got a will of steel.” he glances back down at his notes.

“so… when december starts, are you still planning on being all celibate and zen?”

he chuckles, his cheeks going a little pink. “not gonna lie, i’m already counting down the hours,” he admits, leaning in closer. “because the second november ends, i’m not holding back. if i survived this month, trust me—destroy dick december will be a breeze.”

you can’t help but laugh, and he leans in to give you a quick kiss, his hand finding yours. “but hey,” he says, voice softer, “it’s only easy because you make it worth waiting for.”

jimmy darling ── 11/06

initially tries to go along with the challenge because he respects you and doesn’t want to disappoint you.

but he’s also someone who thrives on touch, so it’s practically torture for him from the start.

you’ll catch him staring at you, and he gets visibly antsy, especially if you’re wearing something cute or revealing.

six days. that’s how long jimmy manages to last. he tries to keep his promise to you, he really does, but it’s no use. every time he sees you around the camp, especially when you’re dressed up in a leotard for a performance or just leaning close to help him with something, he gets that look in his eyes—hungry, smoldering, and unabashedly lustful.

it’s late, and you’re walking past jimmy’s caravan while carrying a basket of laundry when he finally snaps. he’s been watching you from afar, arms crossed and brows furrowed, looking like he’s pissed off about something. when you catch his eye, he’s already standing up and moving toward you like a missile.

“i can’t take this anymore, doll,” he whined, his breath reeking with the unmistakable smell of alcohol. “six days—feels like six damn years.” you laugh, shaking your head.

“jimmy, i told you it was just a challenge,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face. but he’s not having it. his hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest before he leans in, forehead resting against yours. “don’t care about any stupid fucking challenge. only care about you. i need you so bad,”

afterward, jimmy lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both try to catch your breath. slowly, he lets you slide back down to the ground, his arms loosening just enough for you to find your footing, though he doesn’t fully let go. you feel his lips press a lingering kiss to your neck, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

“guess i lost,” his thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. he leans in closer, brushing his nose against yours. “but hell if it wasn’t worth it.”

james patrick march ── 11/24

james has self-control in spades, especially when it comes to his (ex) wife, elizabeth, who has often denied him for months at a time. so, he actually handles this challenge far better than you’d expect.

he channels his frustration elsewhere, like into his “hobbies” (aka his killing sprees around the hotel), which spike significantly during this time. murder brings him a similar orgasmic thrill, and he relies on that to keep himself satisfied.

despite the restraint, he never makes you feel pressured. james will hold your hand, kiss you chastely on the cheek, and even give you sweet little compliments, but that’s the extent of it.

you look up just as james steps into the room, wiping his hands with a bloodstained handkerchief, black eyes alight with the usual post-slaughter exhilaration. “ah, my darling,” he greets, voice smooth yet edged, like a blade still warm from a kill. your gaze falls to his hands, and he notices, lifting them for his own inspection. “a bit messier tonight, i’ll admit,” he murmurs with a sigh, dabbing at his knuckles, though the effort seems half-hearted.

“not even a night of indulgence can quiet the… urges you stir in me.”

he steps closer, fingers brushing your cheek, leaving the faintest trace of crimson on your skin. his hand lingers, flexing, as if he’s holding himself back. you smirk, leaning in to brush a kiss to his lips, there’s a metallic tang to it. james shudders, his hand bracing itself on the back of the couch, jaw clenching as if he’s struggling to restrain himself.

“is it really that difficult? i think you’re being a bit dramatic, dear.” the lilting coo of your voice, the sadistic intent behind it makes his cock twitch painfully in his trousers.

“you’re… tormenting me, truly,” he sighs in frustration. “this damnable month. all the blood in the world can’t satisfy what i truly crave.”

cult leader .ᐟ kai anderson ── completed

while some people might perceive him as a total sex fiend, kai has the self-discipline to pull this off easily, and he sees it as an experiment in control, something to elevate his focus.

claims that refraining from ejaculation is actually a tool for enhancing testosterone and will lecture the entire cult on the “benefits” of nnn. also brings up the heaven’s gate cult’s abstinence rule as a form of enlightenment and compares his self-control to “channeling energy for a higher purpose” (everyone knows that’s a load of bullshit)

you start trying to tempt him halfway through, wearing something a bit more revealing around him, but he just smirks, unaffected. the challenge you proposed to him feels almost trivial, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

however, the second it’s december 1st, he flips. he’s at your door right at midnight, and you won’t be able to walk for a week.

kai’s taking no nut november in stride—too much stride, actually. you were the one who suggested it, but now his calm, unaffected attitude is starting to get under your skin. every time you attempt to seduce him, he gives no reaction.

when kai walks in your shared bedroom, you’re lounging in bed, legs spread wide open, wearing nothing but a tight white turtleneck sweater. he glances over, eyebrow raised. for a second, his gaze lingers on your hardened nipples straining against the fabric. then he just smirks, looks you up and down, and goes to grab his bottle of adderall without a word.

“really?” you ask, annoyed, but he just snorts. “nice try,” he says over his shoulder as he walks away. the days drag on, each one more frustrating than the last as he remains completely unmoved, almost like a silent “fuck you”.

finally, on november 30th, you’ve just about resigned yourself to defeat. you’re in bed, pulling the covers over yourself, when you hear footsteps in the hallway. you glance at the clock—it’s just turning from 23:59 to midnight, the start of december. you barely have a second to process it before your bedroom door swings open, and there he is, standing in the doorway with that same dark look in his eyes, only this time, there’s nothing holding him back.

“miss me?” he asks as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.

peter maximoff ── 11/08

he’ll try every trick in the book—whining, pouting, seduction, and even half-joking about “what if my balls burst?” “you’re actually gonna let me suffer like this?”

on day eight, peter’s pretty much losing his mind. he’s sprawled out on the couch, groaning dramatically every few minutes, tossing his head back as if he’s in physical pain.

“this is torture,” he complains, looking at you with big, desperate eyes. “what’d i ever do to deserve this? my balls are gonna burst,”

you just laugh, shaking your head as you unwrap a lollipop. “you’ve gone without it for a day over a week, peter. you act like it’s been a lifetime,” you tease, popping the candy into your mouth with a grin.

his eyes follow the movement, and his whole expression changes, growing intense in a way that’s unlike his usual playful self. for a second, he’s silent, watching you suck on the lollipop like it’s the final straw. “okay, i’m not gonna survive this,” he mutters, voice a bit rough.

in the blink of an eye, he’s disappeared, zipping down the hall. you hear the bathroom door slam shut, followed by a muffled, frustrated groan from the other side.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[pear1escence]

Hello! I read your “being keegan’s girlfriend would entail…” and was wondering if you could do one for David/Hesh Walker? My manz doesn’t get enough love

If not that’s totally okay! Thanks for reading!

Being Keegan’s girlfriend would entail…

Being David Walker’s girlfriend would entail…

David ‘Hesh’ Walker x fem!Reader (that’s my last name too actually wink wink)

Explicit - 18+

⭒ He’s got a lot of room in his heart for tenderness.

⭒ The pain he feels from having lost his father hasn’t gone away, but it doesn’t plague him like it used to. (Listen, we’ve got Logan safe and sound in this universe our man doesn’t need any more problems)

⭒ What he needs from a lover is patience. The violence he’s experienced, it’s made him rougher around the edges. (Tougher? Rougher? Pls help) He just needs a lil time to soften up to you, I think Hesh would be the sweetest man f’you, such a loving and considerate boyfriend.

⭒ Hesh cherishes the intimate, sweet moments of a relationship. Holding you in his arms in the early hours of the morning, listening to your little puffs of breath, the calmness in your face as you sleep.

⭒ He’s so gentle with you. If it’s his thumb stroking over your cheek in soothing motions, or the palm of his hand running along the soft skin of your back. Treats you so well.

⭒ Chemtrails over the Country Clubs by Lana Del Rey reminds me of him. ‘Tulsa Jesus Freak’ and ‘Let Me Love You Like A Woman’ are Hesh songs to me. Very domestic and intimate.

⭒ I think of him as a socially confident person, a man who carries himself with confidence, falls into conversation easily. He’s charming he’s got rizz basically, you don’t have to search for long to find the reasons you fell for him.

⭒ I mean…pretty green eyes, tall, arms like his? I’d eat him up.

⭒ He’d date someone shy, I think. I think he’d find your shyness endearing, amusing even.

⭒ He loves taking you out for dinner, partly because he loves the sight of you all dressed up for him. He strikes me as someone with he a classic taste, likes romantic makeup styles, dresses that hug your curves and lacy lingerie.

⭒ His softness carries over into the bedroom, of course. I can’t imagine him being degrading or enjoying anything too rough, honestly. He can’t resist teasing you a bit though, a little meanness is all fun. He likes you submissive though, and he can be stern sometimes. Who’s complaining anyways let’s be honest with ourselves😓

⭒ He’s gonna be groping you mercilessly. Loves soft thighs, a nice pair of tiddies, anything soft. He’s big on foreplay, loves to finger you while praising you. Luvs to praise.

⭒ He WILL suck on your nipples. Probably groaning about how much he loves your body while doing so.

⭒ Wouldn’t actually choke you, but he’ll wrap a hand around your neck nd apply pressure gently, he likes seeing his hand ‘round your neck + you find it grounding, even comforting.

⭒ Makes you look him in the eyes while his hand is in your panties, “Does that feel good, baby? Yeah?” Nd you best believe he’s stopping if he doesn’t get an answer.

⭒ Very into eye contact while he’s fucking you. Again with the “You like that, pretty girl?” While gripping your jaw nd making you look at him, groaning out a “Good girl” once you answer him.

⭒ This just turned into sex headcannons bruh😞

⭒ Loves blowjobs. Also lowkey wants you to lick/suck on his balls but he’s a bit embarrassed to ask, you’ll figure out he enjoys it from his reactions anyways. Also pretty hairy, but not as much of a bear man as Keegan is.

⭒ He sends you pics of him in his combat uniform while he’s out on deployment. He’ll certainly appreciate pics of you in return, a mirror selfie of you in some nice lingerie would drive him crazy. Loves a nice photo of you in his boxers too.

⭒ I think he’d be very shy about reciprocating those kinds of images, but he’d send you over some mildly suggestive ones. He’d be very confused if you ask for a nut vid. (That sounds so fucking dumb, nut vid??)

Me?? Writing for someone other that Keegan??? No but this was fun, I’ve been wanting to write for Hesh for a while. Hope you enjoyed!! I think this is my first request ever tihi

[nthspecialll]

you know what drives me nuts about rdr2? mind you i love it and i’m not actually super mad but.

there are pekin ducks in the game, right? and mallards. except pekin ducks are a domestic breed. you can get them to look like mallards by breeding them with said mallard but you probably wont get rid of one tiny issue. they’re too fat to fucking fly. they physically cannot do it. WHY are there pekin ducks that can fly in the game???

also pekin ducks were introduced into america sometime in the 1870s i think. and i know that domestic animals cause havoc in ecosystems HOWEVER how did this too fat to fly duck survive for long enough to reproduce?? even nowadays they have trouble surviving when dumped at ponds where they have an availability of food.

I honestly don't know a lot about birds, but I would guess it is a creative freedom that Rockstar has taken. For a very realistic game, they have sadly taken a lot of creative freedoms when it comes to their wildlife. Prime example is the horses.

The most popular horse in game is the white arabian which lives alone, in the snow. Horses are pack animals, they live in herds and you will have to force them away from one another to get them to be alone, and an Arabian living in snow without any kind of rug or protection is also a stretch.

We also have the Missouri Fix Trotter which was wild in a side quest, but in reality was developed by settlers and have never been wild. Same goes for the Tennessee Walker, which is one of the easiest to find in game out in the wild, but was actually developped on farms, again, having never been wild. The foundation sire of the breed was actually first born in 1886.

I am sure there are more examples out there with minor details being screwed that only people who really know the species will realise. I would think it is just a creative freedom as Rockstar aren't known for being lazy in any department.

[floralcyanide]

𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 ⋇ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Charlie Walker x Gender Neutral!Reader (NSFW)

You and Charlie are fooling around with Robbie’s live-feed camera. The two of you forget it’s on when you are in the film club room fooling around after class. (both Charlie and reader are 18+.)

warnings: smut, nsfw, technical exhibitionism, public sex, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, Charlie and reader are 18+

word count: 926

author's note: god there's just something that drives me nuts thinking about giving Charlie head like omg. imagine. anyway here's a little imagine just for that (: I hope everyone enjoys!! also @ethanlandryslutt gave me the idea to write for charlie so shoutout to them (I will write your inexperienced smut for charlie soon hehe)

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

When Robbie was suddenly summoned for detention for not turning in homework earlier, you and Charlie thought well, this is annoying. Robbie had been discussing how important this Film Club meeting was, even though it was just you three this afternoon. You had to talk about how to plan the annual Stabathon.

“I’m gonna have to leave my camera here. No one touches it, got it?” Robbie says, moving two fingers from his eyes to you and Charlie’s direction. 

You both nod, trying not to laugh but failing once Robbie leaves the room. After you stop laughing, you and Charlie stare at each other in tense silence. You are now suddenly glad Robbie has left. Charlie looks really good today, and you aren’t going to lie- you want to eat him alive.

“Is that camera off?” you breathe out, not moving your gaze away from Charlie’s.

“I’m sure Robbie turned it off. Why-”

You lurch forward, grabbing Charlie by his face and kissing him deeply. You run your tongue along his bottom lip, forcing his mouth open so you can entangle your tongue with his. Charlie’s hands fly to your waist, his fingers digging into it when you press your hips to his. Your fingers travel from Charlie’s face to the back of his head, gripping his hair softly as you deepen the kiss even more. You start pushing Charlie slightly backward until his ass hits a desk behind him. You’re both now kissing hotly, with open mouths as you pant for air. Your hands let go of Charlie’s hair and grip the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him more flush against you. You grind your hips to gauge his reaction, to which he lets out a strangled whine. 

Sliding your fingers out from underneath the belt loops, you make use of them to unbutton and unzip Charlie’s jeans deftly. He gasps when you pull him out of his underwear.

“Are you sure we should be doing this- oh.”

You look up at Charlie through your lashes as you lick his only slightly hardened tip. You feel him harden more when you start pumping his length before putting most of it in your mouth. Charlie’s hands occupy the back of your head, massaging your scalp gently as you take him deeper. His tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag but recollect yourself quickly. You take deep breaths through your nose as you relax your throat, taking all of Charlie in as you begin to bob your head up and down.

“Fuck,” Charlie exhales, throwing his head back.

Charlie has to remove one of his hands from your hair to brace himself on the desk behind him. You look up at him, admiring his angelic appearance when being pleasured. His face is all twisted up- his eyes are squeezed shut with his lips pressed together unless he lets out a hiss or moan. You feel Charlie twitch in your mouth as he starts to involuntarily thrust into your mouth.

You hum around his length, placing one of your hands on his tailbone, pushing it forward to allow his thrusts to go deeper. Charlie is a moaning mess, trying his best to keep his sounds quiet. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Charlie warns, pulling at your hair.

You suck in your cheeks, swallowing Charlie up as much as possible as he twitches one last time. He cums down your throat, and you swallow it up and milk him as much as possible until he can’t take it anymore.

Charlie pulls out of your mouth, tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans back up.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Jesus Christ. What’s gotten into you today?”

“You just look irresistible today, is all,” you joke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand with a smile.

Charlie is about to return the favor when suddenly, you hear someone loudly running down the hall to the classroom. There’s an erratic knocking on the door as Robbie calls, “Guys!”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at Charlie weirdly before walking to the door and opening it.

“Are you okay, Rob?” you ask, concerned.

Robbie looks at you bewildered, and his face turns red, “Uh. I was told something was going on in here via the camera feed. And I came right away.”

You’re confused for a moment, but then it dawns on you. The camera.

“Fuck, I thought it was turned off!” you cry, running to Robbie’s camera, which just so happened to be facing where you and Charlie were previously.

“Haha, yeah, well, it wasn’t,” Robbie cringes, following you to the camera and picking it up, “Sorry folks, the show is over!”

Robbie switches off the camera, which is weird for him to do during the day. But this situation warranted it.

Charlie awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, “You might want to delete that from your site, dude.”

“Good call,” Robbie nods, “Take my laptop and do it. I have to go back to detention. Mr. Applewhite only let me go because Kirby popped in and told us there was an emergency.”

The rest of the time slot for Film Club is spent in awkward silence and a feeling of horror as you and Charlie see how many people viewed and commented on the feed. You quickly edit today’s feed and delete the part where you gave Charlie the best head of his life. Too bad everyone saw it. 

School tomorrow was going to be hell. Was it worth it? Maybe…

[laf-outloud]

Don't get me started on how medical care is treated in television. Being peripherally in the medical field, I can no longer watch medical dramas, and even outside of medical dramas, I cringe anytime someone mentions HIPAA, because I know whatever they're going to say next is wrong.

The lack of proper medical care this season is concerning. It would be okay if it ties into Cordell’s trauma, like he was held captive in a hospital so fears going back where he’s not in control, but they haven’t shown that. They just have them not getting checked out after captivity and Cordell gets injected with a toxin, and doesn’t go then either, even though Kevin does.

Yeah there's not been enough hospital/care scenes :( My poor boys are not getting enough care and one day they will collapse because of it (and then be fine in the next episode bc that's how tv works -_-)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 6

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Your hangover pounds in your temples as you move slowly, stiffly dropping armfuls of clothing into the boxes. A careless delve into the years of possessions, of items that mean nothing now, packed into trash bags and piled into your car. The drive to the secondhand store feels like eternity.

You linger in the lot. Going home means you have to answer the question. What now? You’ll just waste time until work.

That day is longer than the last. You go through your checklist numbly. You don’t think, just do.

As you peel off your rubber gloves, you hear Lloyd’s mocking tone echoing in your mind. He must’ve laughed his ass off watching you slink out like an injured dog. You quickly toss your things in the bucket and haul it out of the closet, your feet carrying you without a thought.

You cry in the car, circling the block as you put off returning to the house. You don’t go back. You take the turn towards the expressway as you get yourself together. The mall is packed, it’s evening. The food court is rowdy with teenagers and whole families, the early tidings of December waft in the air.

You enter the shop and go to the jewelry counter. You put the box on the glass and look up at the associate. It’s not Kelsey. Gina, the title manager cut under her name, greets you with a hesitant smile.

“I’d like to return this,” you announce.

“Oh, yes,” she takes the box and goes to the till, “and do you have the receipt?”

You pause. It’s in your glovebox. You could go out and get it. You’re tired.

“I got the warranty, can you look me up by that?”

“Sure,” she says as she types, “what date did you buy this? Do you have the card you used for the purchase?”

You go through the motions, swipe your card so your information comes up. You wait as she reads the screen. The money will be a good start to get the fuck out.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, you’re past the return window.”

“What?” You gulp, “but… it’s been two weeks.”

“Three,” she corrects you, “unfortunately our holiday policy hasn’t started yet. We can offer store credit only.”

“Store credit?” You sigh, “thanks but… thank you. It’s not your fault, I–”

“You could exchange. Maybe, a necklace or–”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t need jewelry,” you take the watch, “thanks.”

You leave and look around the crowded mall as you make your way blindly along. A pawnshop might be able to get you back half what you paid. Still, that hardly helps. You sit on a bench, opposite an old lady with her walker. You take out your phone and connect to the iffy public wifi.

Your eyes nearly bulge out as you peruse local listings. You can barely afford to rent out a single room meant for college kids. You could live in your car but where? That’s sketchy, and illegal. You couldn’t afford the fine and you have little faith in not being found out.

You flip over to your Facebook. All your friends are married with kids. You haven’t talked in years either. Crashing on a couch is out of the question. You could wait, plot, live with your husband like nothing is wrong and put away money, like you have been. Pick up shift or take his advice and get a better job.

You don’t know. None of it will be easy. You put your head in your hands. Fuck.

You’re not going to have a breakdown in the mall. You get up and put the watch in your purse. You dig out some change and wait in line at the Dairy Queen. What’s another calorie splurge? You take your blizzard and weave your way through the bodies towards the closest exit.

You eat your ice cream in front of your steering wheel. It’s cold. Why did you think ice cream was a good idea? Well, you have the best ones, don’t you? Marrying Colin? That was really fucking smart.

Your phone vibes. You ignore it. Again. Three times more before you give in. It’s Colin. You don’t answer. Fuck him! FUCK HIM! You drop the empty cup on the next seat and hit the steering wheel.

You can’t stay. You won’t. You have some shred of dignity left. You look at yourself in the rearview and wipe away the errant smear of chocolate from the corner of your lips. Dignity? Pride? What is all that?

The engine rumbles after choking out cold air. You shift into gear and pull out, following the other shoppers towards the street. Your damn phone is going off again. You could smash it but it may just be the only thing you have left of value.

You surpass the expressway, too addled to take the high speed lanes. You feel a shaking in the axel. It’s usual. This old thing quakes whenever the weather shakes. As you turn off, a dinging and flashing light assaults you. You curse. Not right now.

There’s a knocking, like grinding and you quickly signal to get to the apron of the road. The engine dies before you can shut it off. You push yourself back in your seat and scream. Why? Why right now? Why you? Why does it all have to always be shit?

You lean your head on the wheel and whimper. You’d be better off freezing to death as the unconcerned drivers pass you by. You stay as you are, thinking of the bill from the mechanic, how many decimal places this time?

A beep comes from behind you, curt. You pop your head up and glance in the mirror. You crane around entirely to gape at the blue Lexus. The door snaps shut as the tall figure emerges and marches up the gravel. No. No! Noooooooo!

You turn the keys and your engine sputters before giving out again. You give it another try as Lloyd raps on the window with his knuckles. You snarl and keep trying until nothing happens. Until you’re forced to give up.

You sit back as he keeps tapping. You roll the window down with the crank, keeping your eyes ahead.

“What do you want?” You mutter.

“I’m thinking more than a handie for this one,” he chortles.

“Go away.”

Your phone lines up as it vibrates against the other seat. You turn it over and grip the wheel, as if you can will the car back to life. Lloyd stays, looming in the window.

“Well, tell me you got the money back for the watch. I’m sure that can cover some of it, huh–”

“Don’t–”

“Shit, has it been too long?”

“Stop.”

“Well, I mean, you could try a loan. You got good credit?” He sucks his teeth, “driving around this beater, I’m sure you have a shining record.”

“Enough.”

“Or a personal loan…” he suggests, “I might know someone–”

“I said stop!” You smack his hand as it rests in the window, “leave me alone. I don’t want your help. I don’t want you around me. Are you not happy? You destroyed everything–”

“Me? I’m not the one fucking another woman–”

“Shut up!”

“No, no, toots, you listen, I’m tryna tell you something,” he bends down to look you in the face as you slowly turn to him, “I hate to admit it but you take a look under my belt and you’ll see it for yourself.”

“Oh, don’t even–”

“Hey, a man is a man and I gotta say sometimes I even confound myself,” he smirks, “if the old man doesn’t want it, well, damn if I do. And don’t you worry, I got more than enough to fill the order–”

“No, go.”

“What are you gonna do?” He cups his chin, “can’t live in this thing now. I know cleaning up paper clips and coffee stains isn’t gonna pay the rent either. Or maybe, you’ll keep fucking the husband and he can pretend your her–”

You suck in air and sneer at the windshield. You punch the wheel, once, twice, a third time and your hand throbs. Your phone buzzes on and on and on like some sort of phantom of irony.

“Tell you what, I’ll pay the tow fee and get you home for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll negotiate terms.”

“Why are you doing this?” You grit out.

He scoffs and reaches to tickle your jaw, “all you had to do was cry for me. You still will, but this way will be more fun.”

[reveluving]

It's missing Rick hours, so why not talk about Rick and (Y/N) (crazy) family fluff!

warnings: fluff & humour!

a/n: Dysfunctional but lovable family fluff >>> Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I had fun thinking about it! Don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

check out my j. kinnaman m.list for more Rick content!

Do you guys remember the Dee Dee twins from Batman Beyond? I know they're supposed to be Harley's granddaughters but imagine if this takes place post-TSS events, and yes, Rick lives, okay?

He's always been—mf engaged to (Y/N) the second he woke up from unconsciousness and has lived together in a quiet lil' neighbourhood since.

But anyways!

I can't stop thinking about them being Harley's goddaughters or protégés instead, and one day, she begs you and Rick to take care of them for the week while away for a once in a lifetime gig. 

“You listen to your aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick while I’m gone!” She’d say, though, she should’ve known better than to think her own carbon copies, of all people, would listen. 

I can just imagine you and the girls being joined at the hip, telling them stories from your days as a criminal, even if you’ve left that life behind. Rick’s the ‘grumpy uncle’ they love to annoy. But! They may be opposites, but the second someone talks bad about you?

Rick will see red, no doubt, but if he hears the girls discuss on how to get rid of the loud-mouthing pos, he wouldn't encourage it. But he sure as hell won’t stop them either—these are Harley girls we’re talking about; it’s not like they listen to him all the time. And, well, if they proceeded with whatever they had in mind, well, the bastard deserved it, didn’t he? Nobody really liked Mr Walker anyway.

What they'd do throughout the week their beloved aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick, a headcanon:

Switching conversation topics when they're bored at the flower shop you work at. One second, it would be about the flowers, which, let's be honest, they're barely listening to, only to excitedly ask about what crimes you've done were the most memorable ones. Without the presence of customers, of course.

Pranking or scaring away any women who visits Rick's workplace solely for the purpose of gawking or flirting with the man, despite knowing he's married. A simple hiss or a quick display of the baseball bat they had with them ("We like playing baseball, don't we, Dee Dee?" "Yes, we do, Dee Dee!) and the visitor's out of the door!

Not once have you nor Rick seen these two play baseball.

They just really love their aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick, okay!

BONUS: If you also have to babysit Bruce the hyena, the twins would sneak him out of the house at 3 AM, purposefully messing with Mr Walker's front yard and making sure he sees it. He didn't see the girls, however, so, when he tells his neighbours about a hyena on the loose, most of them just he was the one with the loose screws.

I initially thought Rick would work as a lumberjack, but, imagine if he was the sheriff of the neighbourhood?? Mr Walker calls him to complain about the hyena problem, obviously unaware of the culprits silently snickering at one another as they watch him desperately demand for 'justice'.

"Mr Walker, I personally don't think it's possible for a hyena to cross the city undetected for the sole purpose of terrorising just your garden," Rick responded calmly, though, he was unable to bite back the condescending hint in his words, "But, we'll look into it."

Once Walker's out, looking more stressed now that even the sheriff himself was looking at him funny, Rick would glance at the twins, raising a questioning brow at their futile attempts to look innocent before returning to his report.

"Good job." He'd say nonchalantly, and rather than looking peeved or disappointed, they spotted the small smile on his face. He didn't bother turning when they high-fived.

But other than the fact that he's been cockblocked since their arrival, and honest to God, it's been driving him nuts, they've made your and his days much livelier than the usual.

I can see it now; you're all watching TV, Rick holding you against him with one arm around you while he leisurely pets Bruce's mane with the other. Similar to the beloved house hyena, the twins sat on the floor in front of you, listening to them cheer for the antagonist and argue about what's for breakfast tomorrow.

Yes, the Flag's were quite the household, it seems.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚ 

[integra1127grimmreaper]

The Replacement - Part thirty-four

Negan Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 33

Warning: swearing, violence

"Hate to say it, but we are running out of place to look" Negan remarks following behind Carol as he attempts to studying the map in his hands.

"Let me have a look at that?" Carol reaches out for the map, silently moving ahead as she studies it.

"Huh..." she remarks stopping in front of huge pot plant.

"What?" Negan comments.

"There should be a door here" Carol responds, studying the wall and map.

Moving forward, Negan moves the plant out of the way and that's when what's looked to be a concealed door is revealed. Handing Negan, the map; Carol removes a small crowbar from her bag to force it open and that's when they find what they were looking for.

"Jesus..." Carol remarks seeing a passed-out Sabastian lying amongst empty liquor bottles and other things.

"What the hell...?" Sabastian mutters out when Carol moves his pillow with her foot to wake him up. Rubbing at his eyes, he stares up at Carol and Negan then.

"How'd you guys get in here?"

Both quietly stare down at him, and he attempts to go for his gun on the floor but Negan steps on his hand.

"Easy, champ..." Negan warns him as writhes in pain.

"Do you know who I am?" Sabastian arrogantly remarks at Negan when he picks up the gun.

"Ahhh... do you know who I-am...?" Negan sarcastically remarks back.

"What do you assholes want?" Sabastian grumbles out.

"Get up" Carol orders.

"We're taking you home to your mother."

"I'm not going anywhere until this thing blows over" Sabastian utters out.

"My mother doesn't care anyway."

"Yes, she does..." Carol remarks.

"You're her kid."

"Commonwealth is her kid" Sabastian retorts.

"I'm just her problem."

"Oh my God..." Negan chuckles out.

"Hey, Jr.... when you aren't pissing in jars, and nobody wants you dead. Call me nuts, but I think maybe you should start rethinking your options."

"Now this one here..." he then points toward Carol.

"Well, she's a goddamn magician. I have seen her pull little bunnies right out her ass with my very own two eyes. So, if for whatever reason... she is throwing you a life raft. Well, then I recommend you jump in the sucker and save yourself from drowning."

Sabastian takes a moment to digest his words, looking to Carol then.

"You really think you can help?"

Two Commonwealth soldiers enter the sewer where the shots had rung out from, only to find a Walker tied to the wall as it attempts escape. Slowly advance forward, neither of them aware that Aaron and you were hiding in the pathway; at least not until they were stabbed in the back of their legs.

The soldiers drop to the floor as Aaron, and you stand over them in victory but that all is interrupted when Hornsby enters with all his men.

"Ok, this ends now!" he states as they all had their weapon trained on you, yet you and Aaron refuse to back down.

"Drop your weapons!" the soldiers flank around the two of you, yet you refuse to lower your own. None of them ever the wiser that, Daryl was slowly sneaking up behind Hornsby.

"Guns on the ground!" Daryl yells out with his knife against Hornsby throat as Gabriel and Maggie come out from hiding to add to the standdown, resulting in even more soldiers to flood the room.

Shouts from the soldiers, to surrender ring out as Hornsby look upon the seen with a sadistic smirk but you all refuse to do so. It seemed to be bloodbath about happen, when suddenly a loud voice rings out in command.

"Everyone, standdown!" Mercer yells out as he enters with Pamela, Carol and Negan trailing behind him; killing as he walks pass it.

Daryl spins Hornsby around, pinning him against wall with the knife at his throat.

"You heard him" Pamela remarks to Daryl.

"Lower your weapon. This is not just about you..." she states when he still doesn't.

"I need him alive."

Daryl still refuses, even when Mercer attempts reason when him. Finaly, he gives in when Carol informs him that she had made a deal, yet not before driving his knife into Hornsby palm.

Negan smirks at the scene, while you bury your head into his chest to disguise your own.

"So, the slates just wiped clean?" Aaron remarks as everyone rested outside while Carol had explained everything.

"Death... deaths on both sides" Carol comments.

"We get supplies, water, weapons... Pamela provides everything we need to finish rebuilding. Free and clear."

"Then we just go home?" Gabriel enquires.

"It's up to everyone to decide" Carol answers.

"What does Pamela get out of this?" Maggie remarks.

"Hornsby" Carol responds.

"We tell the people what he did out here, back at that house where... folks died. He takes the fall for it."

"So, this is about saving her son" Darly states.

"It's not our problem anymore" Carol replies.

"We'll talk about it with Annie and the others when they get here" you comment.

"There's a lot to think about on our end, and we can't speak for them."

"Alright now, like hell, they... they killed most of our people" Negan speaks up then.

Carol sighs at his comment, "anybody else?"

"I think the most important thing is that we're together" Maggie states while staring at a silent Daryl.

"I don't wanna go alone anymore. I don't trust them, but if you say that this deal gets us back in our homes, with our own rules; then I think it's worth the risk."

Everyone looks to Daryl then, "alright..." he remarks after a moment, reaching for the apples then.

"Here, ya need to eat" he states, handing you one.

"Thanks" you smile at him.

"Always got ya back" Daryl remarks with smirk.

"Ya trying to make a move on my wife, Dixion...?" Negan jokingly remarks.

"Oh, shut up Negan" you slap him against the chest as he chuckles.

Shaking your head at him, you lift the apple to take a bit but end up dropping it when a pain suddenly shoots through your lower belly.

"Fuck!" you cry out as you clutch your belly.

"Baby what's wrong?" a concerned Negan grabs hold of you.

"I don't... shit" you remark, looking to the ground as you feel fluid run down your legs.

"She's in labour!" Maggie jumps up to check on you.

"I'll go get help!" Daryl yells, making his way toward around the building. 

Part 35

tag list: @rockey258 @ultrasweetnephilim @twd-fanfics @starry-night-20 @dellsdeath  @vaaalexandra @thatgirljayy @aleemendoza2425-blog @conrzd​ @tonysterco​     @igotmajordaddyissues

[daemonluna]

Post-Pride

I love you, excited teens in flag capes, and kids on roller blades with pride flags taped to their bike helmets who first came to Pride in strollers, and mountain of a guy with the Free Dad Hugs t-shirt and two toddlers.

I love you, gossiping university students in crocheted halter tops and beaded earrings, butches in tank tops and baseball caps, and queens in spiked boots complaining about heat but wearing the sequined gloves and gown regardless, kid in the fur mask and spiked collar with their mom hovering protectively, my co-worker's child in the t-shirt from their elementary school with the logo in rainbow pride colours, shy teen whose face lit up when they found a button with the right pronouns.

I love you, grandma with the t-shirt that said "be gentle, it's my first Pride," elderly gay man who says with unshakeable confidence that he and his friends put up up rainbow decorations at their seniors' lodge and it drives everyone else NUTS, person with nonbinary flag coloured streamers tied to their walker, moms trading an exhausted preschooler back and forth, friends reuniting and wishing each other "Happy Pride."

And every year, EVERY year, it's the kids in the flag capes with their giddy joy and bright faces that get me right in the heart, and I want this for each and every one of them, and I want it all year and everywhere.

[somewhere-south-of-neutral]

OK, I know this literally doesn't matter at all, and the episode itself is over a year old, but it is in the spirit of the show and it drives me nuts.

slight rant, long-ish post, and minor spoilers for Um, Actually season 7, episode 6 below the cut:

In the episode, there is the following question about Magic: The Gathering

Now, you might immediately notice that they got Chandra's name wrong. This is acknowledged in the episode to be a mistake (though none of the contestants catch it) and not the intended wrong thing.

At the time of airing (and presumably recording), Chandra did actually have 17 Planeswalker cards (including the flipwalker from ORI), so that was also fine, though I would argue that there are many more than 17 cards representing her story, those 17 are just the ones that represent her. This was also not what they were looking for.

What they were actually looking for, which is what bothered me so much, was the claim that if you had a Chandra your opponent could play one as well, which they claim as false because, apparently, if you have one your opponent can't play one. This is, though not named as such, clearly a reference to the Planeswalker Uniqueness Rule.

Now, if you started playing after 2017, this might confuse you, because that was the year (several years before this episode was released) where they got rid of the Planeswalker Uniqueness Rule and made all Planeswalkers legendary.

If you started playing earlier than that but after 2013 you might still be confused because you only remember the PUR caring about the same player controlling multiple 'Walkers of the same type. This is because that was the year when they changed the PUR, which had previously cared about any player having a Planeswalker.

If you started playing before that, you might STILL be confused, because you remember that by the original rules, you could play a Planeswalker of a type that was already in play, but if you did both would go to the graveyard. In fact, this was strategically relevant as people would play Jace Beleren to kill JTMS. And you would be right, because while in the period from 2007-2013 (nearly a decade before the episode aired) planeswalkers worked closest to how they describe it, at no point was what they described actually how the rule worked. A rule, I remind you, that hadn't been a part of the game for five years by the time the episode aired.

Then, to top it all off, they implied that once a Planeswalker is in play it can never be removed.

Normally I wouldn't be this pedantic and nitpicky, but it's literally the pedantic nitpicking show, so I am, to use the local parlance, getting in the comments.

[selene-writes]

Hellfire- Phantom traveler part 2

Hi! Here is the final part to this ;) I have like over 100,000 words written so far. I'm very excited about this series.

Chapter Warnings include violence, cursing and some Dean x Jane moments.

This is an 18+ fic

You found out that Amanda Walker, the flight attendant, was the sole survivor intended to fly. Currently at the Indianapolis airport, you were attempting to convince her to change her plans.

“Don’t be like that, Amanda, guys a mess” Dean's voice echoed from his phone. His brows furrowed as he listened intently, then his expression fell. “Oh yeah,” he said softly into the phone before hanging up with a frustrated sigh.

"Damn it," Dean muttered angrily. "So close."

"Alright, time for plan B. We're getting on that plane," Sam declared, his gaze shifting between you and Dean. You nodded in agreement, but Dean seemed hesitant.

"Now hold on just a second," Dean interjected, eyes widening as he scanned the airport.

"That plane is departing with over a hundred passengers, and if we're right, it's headed for disaster," Sam reasoned, gesturing emphatically. "We need to find the demon and exorcise it."

You noticed Dean's unease, his gaze darting around the bustling terminal with a trace of fear.

"Are you okay?" you asked, studying Dean closely.

"No, not really," Dean admitted reluctantly.

"What's wrong?" Sam inquired, stepping closer to Dean with a concerned expression.

"Well, I kinda have a problem with, uh..." Dean hesitated, nervously gesturing towards the departure gate.

"Flying?" you asked incredulously. Dean Winchester, scared of flying?

"It's never been an issue until now," Dean confessed, his discomfort palpable.

"You're joking, right?" Sam exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Dean retorted, his arms falling to his sides. "Why do you think I drive everywhere?"

"Alright, um, we'll go," Sam conceded, motioning towards you.

"What are you, nuts? That plane's gonna crash!" Dean exclaimed loudly, staring at both of you as if you were out of your minds.

"You can come or not, but we have to get on that plane, Dean," you said firmly, glancing at the clock behind you.

"Damn it," Dean groaned

Dean made the decision to board the plane, settling into his seat with you in the middle, and Sam by the window. As the engines roared to life and the plane began to ascend, Dean's anxiety became worse. He gripped the armrests tightly, his knuckles turning white as he stared straight ahead.

"You're humming Metallica?" you asked, trying to distract him from his fear.

"Calms me down," Dean replied shortly, still fixated on the front of the cabin and humming. Sam snorted softly beside you, your shoulders touching.

"Look, man, you've got to calm down and stay focused," Sam advised, his voice gentle yet firm. "We need to track this thing down and exorcise it."

"On a full plane, that'll be easy," Dean scoffed, finally tearing his gaze away from the seat in front of him to glance at Sam and you.

"Just take it one step at a time," you reassured him, offering a small smile. Dean nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, so who's it possessing?" Sam asked, turning his attention to you.

"It's usually someone with a weakness, a vulnerability the demon can exploit—someone with an addiction or emotional distress," Dean explained thoughtfully.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight since the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty distressed," Sam said. Just then, a pretty blonde flight attendant passed by.

"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" you asked politely, smiling at her.

"No, I'm not," she replied with a friendly tone.

"Oh my mistake," you said as Dean glanced toward the rear of the plane.

"That's got to be Amanda back there," Dean remarked, gesturing toward the back rows. "I'll go talk to her, get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam interjected, concerned and furrowing his brow.

"There are ways to test that," Dean replied calmly, unzipping his bag to reveal a bottle of holy water.

"We could be more subtle," you suggested, taking the bottle from Dean and handing it to Sam. "If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Nice," Dean acknowledged, rising from his seat.

"Hey," Sam called out after Dean.

"What?" Dean snapped, turning back to face them.

"Say it in Latin," Sam instructed.

"Okay," Dean agreed with a nod before heading toward the rear of the plane.

"Hey," Sam called again.

"What?" Dean asked, turning back once more.

"Uh, in Latin, it's 'Christo,'" Sam clarified.

"Dude, I know, I'm not an idiot," Dean replied, shaking his head before walking away. You chuckled softly, exchanging a knowing look with Sam.

Dean returned a short while later, taking his seat and looking at you both seriously.

"There's no demon in her, and there's no demon trying to get into her," Dean reported, shaking his head.

"Shit, so if it's on the plane, it could be anyone, anywhere," you remarked, glancing between the two brothers. Suddenly, the plane began to shake, prompting Dean to grab your hand tightly.

"Come on, that can't be normal!" Dean exclaimed, his breathing quickening.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam reassured him, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder.

"This plane is gonna crash, so stop treating me like I'm fucking four!" Dean snapped, his grip tightening on your hand.

"You need to calm down," you said softly, meeting Dean's eyes.

"I can't!" Dean replied urgently. "Don't bother with the touchy-feely crap; it's not gonna help."

"If you're panicked, you're wide open to demon possession. You need to calm yourself down," Sam insisted, leaning closer to his brother. Dean nodded and started to inhale deeply.

You began to hum Metallica softly, and after a moment, Dean joined in. Gradually, his breathing slowed, and he looked down to see your intertwined hands. He released his grip, sheepishly apologizing.

"It's okay," you reassured him gently.

"I found an exorcism in here that should work—the Ritual Romano," Sam announced, flipping through John's journal.

"What do we have to do?" you asked, leaning in to examine the text.

"It's in two parts. The first part expels the demon from the person's body, making it manifest, which also makes it more powerful," Sam explained, glancing up from the journal to meet your gaze.

"More powerful? How?" Dean asked, concern evident in his voice.

"It won't need to possess anyone anymore; it can wreak havoc on its own," Sam elaborated.

"And why is that a good thing?" Dean retorted, staring at Sam incredulously.

"Because the second part sends the bastard back to hell for good," Sam replied firmly.

"First things first, we have to find it," you said, nodding in agreement with Sam.

Dean moved forward with the EMF device, luckily it looked like a Walkman, ensuring it didn't draw attention. With only fifteen minutes remaining until the inevitable crash, a gnawing sense of urgency settled in your chest.

"It's the copilot," Dean stated solemnly upon returning to his seat, his expression grave. You sighed deeply, glancing at your watch.

You rose from your seat, motioning for Dean and Sam to follow as you made your way towards Amanda. With every passing moment, the urgency to exorcise the demon intensified. Stepping behind the curtain where Amanda stood near a service cart, you found a brief moment to talk.

"Hi there! Hope your flight isn't too bumpy for you?" Amanda greeted warmly, her smile strained. 

"Actually, that's exactly what we need to talk to you about," Dean replied firmly, his jaw set in determination.

You took the lead in explaining everything to Amanda, carefully omitting the supernatural aspects. After some persuasion, Amanda reluctantly agreed to help lure the copilot back to you. Nervous anticipation hung heavy in the air as Amanda knocked on the cockpit door, and the copilot emerged with Amanda in tow. Positioning yourselves strategically on one side of the curtains, Dean wasted no time and delivered a swift punch as soon as the copilot stepped through.

The copilot crumpled to the floor, and you acted swiftly, pinning him down while Dean secured his mouth with duct tape. Amanda's voice quivered with fear as she watched from behind you.

"What are you doing? You said you were just going to talk to him!" Amanda exclaimed in a panicked whisper.

"We are going to talk to him," you assured her calmly as Sam began the exorcism ritual. The copilot writhed in agony as holy water was poured over him, smoke curling from his contorting body.

"Oh my God, what's happening to him?" Amanda gasped, covering her mouth in horror.

"Amanda, stay calm. Stay outside the curtain and don't let anyone in, can you do that?" Sam instructed, his voice steady despite the chaos. You maintained your grip on the copilot's shoulders, feeling his frantic struggles intensify beneath you. Despite Dean's efforts to restrain him, the co pilot managed to break free, throwing Dean off and headbutting you.

You staggered backward, the impact against the door leaving you momentarily stunned. The copilot continued to thrash violently, knocking Sam aside and ripping the duct tape from his mouth in a single motion. Reacting quickly, Dean made a move, wrestling the copilot down again as you scrambled to retrieve the holy water.

“I know what happened to you girlfriend,” He spoke angrily, his eyes turned black and your heart dropped in your stomach. You ignored the feeling and looked at Sam as you stood up.

Sam resumed the Latin incantation, but the demon's strength seemed to grow with each passing moment. In a desperate surge, the copilot knocked the journal from Sam's hands, sending it skidding across the floor.

"I got him!" Sam yelled desperately as the demon snarled, black smoke billowing from its mouth. With a final burst of energy, the copilot's movements slowed, his body going limp as he fell unconscious.

"Where did he go?" you asked urgently, scanning the area for any sign of the demon's presence.

"He's still on the plane. Hurry, we need to finish this," Dean urged, gesturing urgently to Sam. As you stood up to assist, the plane lurched forward violently, throwing everyone off balance. Panic erupted among the passengers, screams echoing through the cabin as the aircraft descended rapidly.

"FUCK!" you shouted, slamming against the wall as gravity intensified, Dean beside you struggling to maintain his footing. The lights flickered, an alarm blared, and turbulence rattled the plane with frightening intensity. Seeking comfort and assurance amidst the terror, you reached out and grasped Dean's hand tightly.

"This isn't how I imagined dying," you thought, your heart racing with fear.

Just as hope seemed to fade, Sam's frantic efforts with the journal finally seemed to bear fruit. The plane stabilized, the lights flickered back on, and relief washed over you as the aircraft resumed its steady flight path.

"Oh, thank God," you breathed out, overwhelmed with gratitude and exhaustion.

===================================================================

The scene at the airport was chaotic, with paramedics and FBI agents bustling around. Amanda stood with an agent, engaged in a conversation. She glanced over at you and mouthed a heartfelt "thank you," to which you nodded in acknowledgment before she turned back to the agent.

"Let's get outta here," Dean's voice broke through the commotion, and you followed his lead as he headed towards the exit. Sam walked beside you, his expression thoughtful and troubled.

"You okay?" Dean asked you, concern etched into his features. You nodded, the adrenaline of the recent events still coursing through your veins.

Sam paused, causing Dean and you to stop as well. His voice was hesitant, burdened with the weight of what had happened.

"Dean, Jane, it... it knew about Jessica," Sam admitted, his voice tinged with disbelief and anger.

"Sam, these things lie, that's all it was," you reassured him, shaking your head slightly.

"You can't believe it," Dean interjected firmly, his voice unwavering.

"Yeah," Sam said after a moment, meeting your gaze as if seeking reassurance.

"Come on," Dean said gently, patting Sam's shoulder and giving you a nudge forward.

As you passed by Sam, you reached out, your fingers lightly brushing his shoulder in a silent gesture of support. He turned towards you, a sad smile playing on his lips, a silent acknowledgment.

"Nobody knows what you guys did but I do. A lot of people could have been killed. Your dad's gonna be real proud," Jerry said, his tone grave yet appreciative, reaching out to shake first Sam's hand, then yours.

"Nice to meet you, Sam and Jane," he added warmly.

"You too," you replied, smiling in response.

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam said, nodding to him as Dean started walking around the car to the driver's side. You hopped into the back seat while Sam took the passenger seat up front.

"You know, Jerry, how did you get my phone number anyway?" Dean asked, pausing and turning back to face Jerry. "I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry replied, casting a quick glance at the three of you.

"What?" Sam exclaimed, surprised.

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked.

"I didn't exactly talk to him, I called his phone number. His voice message said to give you a call," Jerry explained. "Thanks again, guys," he added before turning back around and walking away.

The three of you exchanged a look, processing what Jerry had said.

"This doesn't make any sense, guys," Sam said, his brow furrowed in confusion. You had driven a considerable distance before pulling over on the side of the road. "I've called Dad's number like fifty times, it's been out of service."

Dean held up his phone to his ear, leaning in towards Sam and you so you could hear the message playback.

"Hi, this is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean at 785-555-0179. He can help."

The message ended, and Dean snapped his phone shut. A heavy silence settled among the three of you. Sam abruptly got up, hopping back into the car and closing the door.

"Come on," Dean said to you, gesturing towards the car. You followed, climbing in and driving off, the unexpected message from John weighing heavily on your minds.

[that1nerd-20]

Hydra hurt us, but he brought us together Masterlist

Keira Williams was a Hydra asset known by many as Reaper. But, after 2012, she was forgotten in Cryo. When the Avengers found her, she ultimately was handed over to SHIELD, where she would become an agent. Keira becomes an Avenger, but when Bucky resurfaces as the Winter Soldier and Steve wants to go after him, she helps Steve even though shes risking her home with the Avengers. Old memories and feelings resurface, but will it be enough?

Bucky Barnes X F!Oc

Warnings: THIS IS AN OC FIC NOT A X READER!!, there will be mentions of death, death, abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of suicidal thoughts or actions, Canon typical violence, eventual smut. If there is any missing please tell me.

there will be fluff and soft stuff i promise!! 😭😭

Authors note PLEASE READ: please mind my rant here. there will not be an endgame or Infinity War. I hated those movies and almost all of the shows that took place after them. (Lil update here, there kight be like an AU Oneshot where the only that really happens is steve goes back in time and like what if, keira is the one to get the shield after john walker. (Will not follow the events of the show cause i havent watched it, i just know info fron videos about the show.))This whole book will be a happy one (for the most part) where everyone is alive; there's no super unhappy ending. If you don't like that you can leave. So no Steve going back in time (because that just throws his whole arc out the window), no Wanda vision, no Loki show (that show drives me nuts and I hate it with every fiber of my being), no She-hulk, and no ‘no way home’ (still haven't seen it, and never will) we are also going to pretend T'challa is alive (but rest in peace Chadwick), also no love and thunder either.

(That movie ruined Guns and Roses for me, also it made no sense to me, also I'm probably gonna get hated on but fuck Jane) pretty much all of the Avengers live together, besides when Tony and Pepper get married and he moves out, all of the Avengers + Loki (and yes he lives with the Avengers) live in the Avengers compound (the one they move to after the tower) obviously there will be some avengers that dont live in the compound, like Antman, captain marvel, and strange. but yeah, hope you enjoy this,

Let me know if yall would like to be in the taglist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

And more to be determined

[stone5251]

How was Kim Walker in The Cursed Man (Made in 2016) and Frog-g-g (Made in 2004) if she died in 2001? Did they use clips of her voice? Did Google make a mistake and it meant to put a different Kim Walker? Were they making them before she died and had her lines recorded? I genuinely can’t figure out how she was in them if she died before they were made and it’s driving me nuts

[hislittleraincloud]

I'm half tempted to tell a fan "NEVER!!!" to their question of when my next chapter is coming.

I'd do it because I've already told the people over at AO3 that if they want updates on my work and progress of my work, to follow this blog.

I don't think they're following this blog.

Like srsly, I know that it's been a month since the last chapter. But unless I want the story to go to complete shit and watch all the work I've done just implode because of terrible writing or missing/misplaced scenes (like what happened w Chapter 6 Part 1), I said a million times, I'm not going to rush it.

While this main story is written, there are huge gaps and missing scenes still in my head and notes. I have had to draw a fucking map of the sequence of events so my story can fit in there with the fewest leaps of logic/thought, though I have to weave around the show's leaps of logic too, and for 7 and 8, that's a big thing.

But for those in the back:

Chapters 7 and 8 correlate with Episodes 7 and 8, which I find were rushed and terribly written (I'm not alone in this thinking). The first half of Chapter 7 takes place during the few days between AB Wednesday's breakdown and Mayor Walker's funeral, because funerals like that don't happen overfuckingnight like the show made it seem. There's not going to be much, if any, sex in it...or even direct interaction between Donovan and Wednesday (unless in flashbacks/memories); that will happen in Chaoter 7 Part 2. And I realize it's late in the game, but Chapter 7 as a whole will introduce action with two new characters (one canon, another purely Afterburn). I gotta do what I'm doing if the story's going to continue smoothly into After the Burn.

I won't let any rushing of half-assedness happen to my preciously perverted (😉) fic, its headers, or its extras (including more music and audio work).

And I don't want to pull the Poor Me card, but I have chronic illnesses (four regular hard meds...weed also helps). Sometimes it's hard for me to find the energy to feed myself (I forgot to feed myself the other day 🫣). But the one thing I haven't stopped doing since at least April (though my rough outline of the story goes back to about mid-March/around St. Patrick's Day) is write/create, and it's the first writing I've done since I got bashed. I often fall asleep with my phone in my hand and it scares me because I'm always in my Google Drive and I'm afraid I'll some day accidentally delete shit.

No wonder AO3 authors go nuts. I never had this problem here. I have a whole damn story on another fandom/Tumblr and never felt pressured to crap out the next installment.

Irritated now. Here, have Afterburn Wednesday from my Chapter 3 just for shits:

Obviously I wouldn't just tell them NEVER and not follow up w/a jk...bc I'm not a total asshole. Most of the time.