ncr: our president is surrounded by our most elite soldiers when giving his speech, if youre hated by the ncr you better tread lightly in a disguise, and no matter who you are if you step too close you get shot.
diamond city: idk man you can stand there naked aiming a gun at the mayors head during his speech. no one cares. our guards are probably on the other side huffing jet. honestly this guy has only one guard in his office we just do not care what happens to him.
Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a
popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her
cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more
than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word Count: 2,733
fire, panic, dangerous situation, rescue, drinking, bad jokes, I’m off the
handle because I no longer care
A/N: If you don’t like it, don’t read it. After the posts I saw
last week that personally attacked me…I wish some people put half as much effort into helping others and
the earth as they do being genuinely awful.
it is cold on mars, and peter a) doesn’t own many warm socks and b) is a thief. so he just steals juno’s, which has the added benefit of forcing juno to buy new socks and do his laundry a little more often because before that peter was complaining constantly about the state of the socks which he had stolen, peter
when peter has a place he’s actually returning to, he becomes a squirrel. there are caches of various tools and clothes and food items everywhere in juno’s apartment. it is actually kind of a problem. there are knives in the couch, peter. peter.
“I can’t take you anywhere,” juno says, somewhat impressed, as peter empties at least four tables’ worth of silverware from the restaurant they went to out of his pockets (and also a doorknob, and a dog collar, and someone’s wallet, which juno makes him return.)
peter is, so far unsuccessfully, trying to teach juno to break out of handcuffs (it doesn’t help that juno probably enjoys being in the handcuffs a little too much)
they flirt by bickering
“can you please stop feeding every animal that shows up on the fire escape?” - juno, frequently
“when you buy some groceries worth feeding to a human being, darling,” - peter, usually
peter thinks juno’s penchant for tasteless art is the single funniest, most endearing thing he’s ever seen. he occasionally shows up with pieces whose previous owners are probably glad to see them gone. juno is equally touched and annoyed that his boyfriend wants him to hang stolen goods on his walls
juno gets back at peter for stealing his stuff (like his toothbrush, and his last expired PI license, and his socks) by pilfering peter’s jewelry, mostly stud earrings and any rings that look like they could break a nose. peter retaliates by painting juno’s nails when he has things he needs to be doing with his hands
casual touches!!! all the time!!!
c a s u a l k i s s e s
“move out of the doorway I need to get through” “not until you kiss me”
peter is always careful to be uncharacteristically loud when he’s approaching on juno’s blind side so that he doesn’t surprise him
living with juno is basically like living with an alcoholic cat, including the bits where the cat starts running around like a maniac for no reason and then stares at the wall for three hours
peter’s good at expressing affection through words and gifts. juno gravitates more towards doing things for and with peter.
juno starts cooking a lot more often. he was always good at it and now he makes a bit more of an effort, getting rita to help him scrounge up recipes from places peter has mentioned he’s visited, places he’s mentioned he wants to. he doesn’t want hyperion city to close in too much around peter, does his best to bring a little of the universe in.
juno is exactly the right height that peter can sneak up behind him while he’s cooking and put his chin on top of juno’s head, like the smug gangle he is
peter usually enters via the windows (there are so many cameras at street level). this makes juno yell a lot
they honestly just like being together and sitting on the sofa half on top of one another and swapping stories for hours
do you think dark!remus still has his remus-y traits? does he also turn children or?? i'd love to read a list of your hcs for dark remus if you're ever bored!
(( OOC: Ooookay… I just came up with Dark!Remus on the fly, mostly because I wanted to do Remus with Tattoos and shit… So I’m completely bullshitting here…. let’s see how this goes.
Remus is taken at the age of five, and raised in a small pack that is overseen by Fenrir outside of his home. Fenrir isn’t involved a lot with the raising of the kids, he just “takes care” of the pack in general, stops in every once in a while, uses them when he needs them, and makes sure that the caregivers raise the children the way he wants them to be raised.
Most of the individuals in the pack are either people that were turned and fell out of touch with society at a young age, or people that were easy prey (homeless, runaways, etc.) Because of this the children receive a very limited education.
On top of that, the pack, being made up of so many random victims thrown together for the sake of survival, suffers from a lot of internal contention. When Fenrir is not around, it’s hard to maintain order or civility. There are kind hearted wolves mixing with selfish, and sometimes dangerous wolves, making Remus’s childhood very unstable.
Remus learns to survive through depending on his street smarts and basic survival skills. He is raised to believe that witches and wizards are cruel, vicious, and that they want him and his kind dead. He grows up isolated, hidden from the wizarding world, and that causes him to fear it. The only interaction he has with people outside of the pack is through hunting.
Unlike Fenrir, the children’s main caregiver (who joins the pack when Remus turns eight) never gets the children involved in hunting. He is a kind man that was turned at a later age, and has compassion for humans.
Remus hears little snippets about the wizarding world from this man, and grows curious. He and the caregiver become close, the caregiver sharing his knowledge with Remus and expanding the young man’s horizons. As Remus grows older, he begins to help with raising the kids, sharing his caregivers pro-wizarding-world ideals with them. His curiosity begins to peak, and soon he finds himself wanting to interact with the wizarding world.
Unfortunately, Fenrir finds out about the caregiver’s empathetic feelings towards humans (and the fact that he keeps the children from hunting humans) and the man disappears from the pack.
Fenrir, determined to do damage control, takes over leading Remus’s pack, and the following moon he takes Remus and a few of the older kids on their first hunt. Remus ends up getting too close to the city and attacking a young woman, and when he comes to she is turning, but doesn’t survive the transformation, and ends up dying. Remus is mortified by the experience and refuses to eat for days after, terrified that the meat being served is human.
Fenrir realizes how much of an impact the caregiver had, and turns to manipulation and fear in order to get his “little ones” back on track.
Remus, being older, is not as easily swayed, and Fenrir turns his attention to the rebellious wolf. He forces him on hunts, and punishes him when he doesn’t submit… determined to shape him.
This causes Remus to push back harder, his resentment and fear towards Fenrir causing him to draw closer to the wizarding world.
Fenrir then decides to switch tactics, making him his “right hand man”… giving him special treatment. Remus becomes more compliant, since the pack is the only life he knows and he fears leaving it, but Fenrir isn’t satisfied with compliance.
He decides to give his “pup” a reason to fear and hate wizards, and ends up dragging Remus into the wizarding war, showing him the worst of humanity, and the atrocities that they commit on “monsters” like them. Remus starts to find himself slipping back into submission, his fear of wizards growing and overcoming any empathy he had felt for them.
Fenrir then tests the waters and starts to send Remus out on specialized hunting missions… going into the cities to “collect” victims… instead of feeding off of the “scraps” on the streets. Fenrir wants the wizarding world to fear them… and the way to do that is through targeting the youth… the young soldiers that will be joining the war soon.
Take away the youth and the hope goes with it.
Remus, having been educated about the wizarding world by the caregiver, is trained and sent in to lure young adults out of bars, to interact and smile and appeal to them, and then take them or turn them…
It’s his dressing room, if that’s not clear. Just a little.. Modified. Not sure what to say about this one. He probably doesn’t need most of the stuff on his bathroom sink, but it’s nice to have anyway. You may notice that not many things are… too high up off the ground.
Sometimes I feel like my heart is just like New York City’s night sky. Dark blue and starless.
We’re lying on the bed like crossroads, your head on my stomach. You’re reading a book whose name I’ve never heard of, I’m playing with your chestnut hair.
You’re all of the lights across the city, with your own dark alleys and the soft, warm glow of the streetlights spilled over the dark grey roads.
Your hands in mine are the intersections in this new city we’re building.
Too close, and we’re radioactive.
Too far, and the city cracks and the debris scatters itself over the emptiness of our ribcages.
Sometimes I feel like my heart is just like New York City’s night sky. Dark blue and starless.
And I don’t think I’d ever be as bright as I am, if it weren’t for you.
A/N: It’s here guys! It’s finally here! The @hamwriters write-a-thon is finally here! I am so excited to share with you guys this series I’m starting called “Delirious”. Without further adieu, here is the first installment of the write a thon, and my superhero! au series.
Car horns. Planes. Bicycle bells. Coffee shop doors opening way too early or closing way too late. Police sirens. The subway coasting across the city on its first trip of the day. These were the things that filled your ears as you sat on top of the Richard Rodgers Theatre.
The New York City landscape. The moon. The stars. Dark purple. Purple. Blue. Light blue. Faint pink. Orange. Red. And all shades between. These were the things you could see as you sat on top of the Richard Rodgers Theatre.
A breeze floated off the Hudson and hit you, making you shiver in your thin black sweatshirt. Despite being out all night, you hadn’t gotten used to the cold. It was sadly the only black thing you owned. And lord knows you had to wear black for-
“Delirium, you there?” Your earpiece scratched. You threw your head back, a groan escaping your throat. To think you were done was a mistake, obviously.
Hey girl, long time no see. Friendly neighbourhood NASCAR here with another prompt based in these Hozier lyrics. When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her So like Kara is presumed dead and there's a service and everything, then Kara turns up at 3 am at her door saying hi, before collapsing in her arms. Angsttttt please
Long time no see, indeed! I’m here with your prompt and fair warning, it’s packed up with angst but it has a happy ending. It’s also over 12k words so it’s long.
Cat’s eyes snapped open as she felt her body being shaken awake, rather abruptly. She was exhausted, the few hours of sleep she had managed to snatch weighing heavy upon her eyelashes and already urging her to close them again, to go back to sleep.
“Mom! Mom, please, wake up.”
The voice sounded distant, like an echo far away in the room but she recognized it instantly and it provoked a surge of adrenaline that kickstarted her system as she finally heard the panicked edge it held. She jolted up to sit in her bed, running a hand over her face to chase the fatigue away and then, she finally focused on her son. Her heart squeezed, missed a beat and then dropped when she took in the tears running down his cheeks, the terror swirling in his baby blue eyes and the way he was practically panting, his chest heaving up and down too quickly as he struggled just to breathe.
“Carter? Sweetheart, hey, I’m here, what’s wrong? I’m awake, I’m awake, take a deep breath and tell me. What is it?” She asked, trying to sound soft and inviting and not to show the fear he was rapidly awaking in her guts.
“Mom, it’s Kara! She’s, she’s … Mom, you need to see this! Come on! Mom.” He was tugging at her wrist and she quickly pushed the blanket away, to be able to leave the bed and to follow her son. Her heart was racing in her chest and her mind was whirling and spinning, going in every direction but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything.
The penthouse was almost pitch black but as they came close to the living room, she noticed the glowing and flashing halo the television was casting upon the furnitures. The sound was on, very low but she heard sirens and shouts, screams too. Carter dragged her in front of the huge flat screen and then he slid his fingers to hold her hand, tight. She squeezed it gently, out of habit but mostly because he was frightening her but then, she caught a glimpse of a blue and red blur on the screen and her attention sharpened.
Summary: when life is getting too much for the reader and she feels she’s going to collapse, Bucky is there to hold her.
Word Count: 1489
Warnings: mentions of depression, angst, lots of crying, fluff
AN: inspired by that video of Sebba running into the crowd to hug that fan, and he kind of bounced her while he was carrying her. This may or may not have A LOT of my own life reflected into it. By the way, this is strictly older brother kind of Bucky. No romance. Enjoy 💛
I exit the school with my heart in my throat and my teeth clenching down on the insides of my cheeks, a habit I’ve had since I can remember, and a telltale sign that I’m trying not to cry. Keep it together.
I round the corner of the school field and spot the clean black car parked by the sidewalk. I hurriedly walk to it and open the door. My driver, Nathan, greets me with a smile. I offer one in return, but it physically hurts to force my lips to turp upwards. Not when I want to do the exact opposite.
The ride home is silent, all the while I’m untying the tie of my school uniform and cursing Clint for placing me in the fancy academy. My uncle wants the best for me, I know, but after aunt Laura pulled some strings after a HYDRA attack in my city got a little too close for comfort, I’ve been pampered to no end. Nearly two years later, and I feel suffocated. Living in the Avengers Compound has its perks, but being treated like a toddler by world’s mightiest heroes can get a bit much.
The heartache is threatening to drown me when Nathan finally announces we’re home. I thank him quickly, grab my backpack, and rush up to the building, past the thicket of security and up the elevator, before arriving to my room. I collapse onto my bed and let the sob I’ve been holding all day long escape. All the things I’d tried to push to the back of my mind come tumbling back in an avalanche. I weakly lift myself off the bed and begin peeling and throwing off garments on my way to my closet. When I get there with tears still streaming down my face, I reach out blindly into an open cupboard and grab a cotton shirt and pull it over my head. In nothing but my underwear and my oversized shirt, I crawl into the little nook I’d created in my closet and pull the wardrobe door half-way closed on myself. There’s the tiniest orange light coming from a plugged-in extension cord and the soft sea green blanket is how I’d left it: crumpled with dried snot. It seems like I’ve been crawling in here to let out my feelings too often lately.
I ball the blanket into fists in my hands and lean into the wall. The space is smaller than a meter in both directions, so there’s only enough room for me to have my legs pulled up to my chest. I cover the blanket with my face let in a sharp, strangled breath before letting it escape into a sob. With each jagged breath and salty tear on my lips, I’m aware that I’m sitting in a closet crying in one of the most expensive buildings in New York. Lucky Y/N, with her extravagant life and luxuries and connections. My reputation precedes me, wherever I go, whatever I try to do. My sleepless nights and all those days spending time alone and the way school has become such a burden I can barely focus on classes anymore. All the failed attempts at mingling and all those times I’d see friends hanging out together in places after school. And who was I with? My uncle. My handler. My tutor. And today, trying to talk to a group girls on the softball team and being humiliated, and bombing a test and all day the only thing I could think of is how long this had been going on. How much longer it would go on. Two years, I’ve been walking around like a ghost through the halls of my school for two years, and it’s getting worse each day. Less than a week ago, my best friend from back home was taken out of school because of her severe depression. My mom, who had to stay back home because of her job, has barely been talking to me, ever since she met Alvin, her stupid love interest with his big nose and his annoying voice that she refuses to acknowledge. Tony keeps pushing me to pursue high school courses in sciences for university, but he won’t stop and listen to me and know that all I’ve ever wanted to do is write, and that I can’t spend my life doing sciences I despise. My mind feels like it’s slowing down with the weight of it all, and I want everyone to pause, just for a moment, and let me catch my breath, because I feel like I’m suffocating, and if I don’t take breather I’m going to collapse.
After a long breath, I inhale, long and deep, and let out a shudder. The tears won’t stop; I can’t see through them anymore.
“Y/N?” someone asks from outside my door. I feel like I’m hearing it from under water, because it’s all getting too much. I can’t breathe; I want to go home. I want to go back to my little apartment and my mom and beg her to leave her douche of a boyfriend and hold me and let me see my best friend, who needs me now more than ever. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair to have all this on me, not when I don’t even have anyone to talk to about it. All I have is my closet and my window that overlooks the sunrise I can’t sleep through.
I choke on a sob and erupt into a coughing fit that mixes with anguished noises. “Y/N!” the voice says again. And I hate that there’s a little voice screaming in my head that I should stop and pick myself up and answer the door and say I’m perfectly fine, because that’s what I’ve been doing for the past three months. But it’s too much. I can’t take it. Building up, all of it, threatening to drown me. My best friend’s mental state was the last straw, and this is the last time I’ll pretend I’m okay. Because it hurts, having to say that my teary eyes were from a big yawn, or that I’d just watched a sad movie, and it’s exhausted. I’m tired. I want to go home.
The locked door suddenly flies open. I don’t look to see who it is, because as my coughing subsides, I inhale in an attempt to keep from passing out, which only beckens more tears. Someone is mumbling something, calling to me, but all I can hear are my thoughts, spewing poisonous things at me, trying to kill me. I want to go home. “Oh my god, Y/N.” the voice lets out a breath from somewhere beside me. It vaguely reminds me of someone. Bucky. I shake my head vigorously, stuffing my face into my soaked blanket. No, no, go away. The words don’t make it out of my throat. I’m hyperventilating, I can feel my chest rising and falling, too fast. Too fast. I can’t breathe. “Come on. Come on, doll, come out.” he mumbles. He’s pulling the closet door back and tugging at my waist. I place a hand on my chest, trying to coax a breath into my lungs. A whimper leaves my lips. I don’t struggle as I’m gently pulled out of my place in the closet. The air finally enters my body, and I’m taking in a long breath before letting out another sob that shakes my body. He’s crouching in front of me, wrapping his big arms around my waist and pulling me into his chest. “Ssh.” he says softly. I breathe in three jagged breaths.
“E-everyt-thing.. Is f-falling ap-part…” I squeak. He grips me tight despite the fact that I’m not wearing any pants, and I’m crying into his body until I can’t feel my limbs. He’s whispering things in my ear to calm me down. And all I can think is that I can’t remember the last time I’ve cried to somone.
Eventually, the loud sobs turn into soft ones, then to whimper, until I’m rapidly breathing. I can’t stop shaking for the life of me. When I’m quiet enough, Bucky pulls me up with his grip around my sides still tight. My legs are dangling in the air as he walks around the room slowly, bouncing me every-so-gently. My face is crumpled like a forgotten piece of paper. My arms are strewn limp across his shoulders. I feel hollow, like all my tears had squeezed out my insides. I hide my face in Bucky’s warm neck. After one final shuddering breath, I’ve gotten myself under control. Bucky continues circling around the room, rocking me gently until my sniffles have stopped.
“It’s okay.” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay.” I sigh sadly into his skin, feeling an odd relief. Maybe because now someone knows. Bucky knows. That’s enough. That’s a start.
Finished that one picture of a Sandwyrm being hunted! After changing the color scheme quite a bit
Sandwyrms are Yorshov’s apex predators, and are symbolically important to the culture. They’re some very big wigglers, and there are hunters on the surface devoted to getting rid of any that come too close to the city, where they can cause serious damage.
Warnings: This series contains mentions of assault, sexual violence, and stalking.
Word Count: 2.7k
Limerence: The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one’s feelings.
The past few days have been a little weird to be perfectly honest. Sehun has gotten me every time I’ve gone outside and has come over to talk to me. I was sitting outside on the porch this morning before I left for work and he walked up on the porch and sat next to me in the swing—completely unannounced. I didn’t even notice him until the swing moved from being sat on. I didn’t want to be rude and tell him to go away, but it was a little creepy. He kept talking to me for so long, I ended up being late to work. He always smiles at me and is very nice and polite, but something about his personality rubs me the wrong way.
“You’re just being paranoid. He seems like a really nice guy, he probably just thinks you’re attractive and it makes him nervous.” I went and visited my mom at the hospital later in the afternoon after my shift ended. I told her about what happened this morning, and she only tells me that I’m being paranoid. Maybe I am just being paranoid. I mean, he hasn’t really done anything to me other than just try and speak to me. I don’t see anything malicious about that.
YAA!! Depends on where you’re coming from & what you can afford tbh. British Colombia is absolutely my favourite place and Vancouver is really really nice but it’s fucking crazy expensive to live there. It’s like a national crisis thing how fucking expensive it is. Calgary is a really nice city too and it’s close to the Rocky Mountains which I adore but it’s super landlocked so idk that’s an issue for me because I love the ocean. Toronto is really nice if you like big cities- it’s very multicultural and has a lot going on and is great arts wise if you’re into that. I live on the east coast and it’s beautiful geographically and is a peninsula so there’s lots of ocean and rocks and scenery and cute fishing villages but Halifax is as big as it gets and it’s pretty small (esp cause I used to live in Toronto so) but I love it. So yeah!! Depends, but those are my favourite places!!
Request: Another jerome request, I know you have a lot for him already but I was wondering if maybe you get kidnapped by the maniax as leverage For something and jerome becomes protective of you and makes sure none of the others bother you, hurt you or worse
Tags: kidnapping, swearing, crime, it’s a short writing piece and it’s probably not what you really hoped for. I apologize for the wait and lack of inspiration.
“Are you frightened of me, Y/N?” Jerome asks, untying the gag out of my mouth. The last thing I saw was the dull grey sky that hovered Gotham city almost every day, the same sounds of car horns and hollering whenever a girl showing cleavage walks pass.
Within the last few days, all that’s been on my mind was the breakout of Arkham Asylum from six criminally insane inmates and one of them gained control- and had ginger hair and a wild laugh.
My entire body moves when the van makes a turn. “I’m sane, unlike you.”
“Where to, boss?” a big bald guy driving the vehicle asks, his eyes sharpening the reflection of the mirror.
Jerome grins. “Back to Theo’s glorious penthouse.” He turns back to me and pats my hands that were tied up well. “Do you think I am going to hurt you?”
“I think…you are who you are. This city is way too corrupt and out of all people, your whack mind decided to kidnap me while I was trying to enjoy my ice cream. That was a waste of three dollars.”
“That ice cream place is busted up, Y/N.”
“Now may I question how you manage to get ahold of my name?” I asked.
“I know who you are, Y/N. And I promise- “ he leans in close- too close and hisses in my right ear. “To protect you from this corrupt city that you speak of.”
I whimper and sink back into the seat. “God, you are so creepy! How do you sleep at night?”
“On my back. Naked. Fresh air feels nice.” He lets out that same laugh that would still haunt me until I take my last breath. “Alright, alright. But I’ll be a tid bit serious. You’ll be my little sidekick. And I’ll look after you. But first, let’s get one thing clear: I’m the boss.”