#* study ↷ s. wilson.

[mrsbarnesblog]

my everything

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.

Author's note: enjoy💘

“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.

"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”

 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."

 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.

The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 

“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.

Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.

 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.

 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”

 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”

“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.

Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.

“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.

 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.

 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.

 "Sam, don't—"

“You sound like an asshole.” 

 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”

Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.

“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.

The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.

Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.

Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.

 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 

“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.

“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.

 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”

 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.

 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 

 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”

 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”

It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.

Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.

After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.

When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.

“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.

“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 

“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 

“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.

There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.

“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”

“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.

“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 

“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 

“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 

Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 

“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.

“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 

“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 

“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.

“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”

It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?

“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”

“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”

“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 

You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.

She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 

“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 

“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 

“No, she didn’t.”

“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 

“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 

You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 

As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 

Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.

Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 

“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”

“No.” He mumbled.

“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.

“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”

“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 

Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 

Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 

The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 

“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 

“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 

She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 

You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 

The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 

While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 

“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 

“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.

“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 

Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 

“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 

“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 

“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 

“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”

“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 

“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 

“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 

“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.

“Yes, how do you know that?” 

“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 

You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”

“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 

You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 

“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.

“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 

“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 

“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 

Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 

“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.

Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.

“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.

“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.

Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.

“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 

“Bucky.” 

You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 

“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.

“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.

“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 

“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 

That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.

“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”

“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 

“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.

“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”

“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 

You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 

How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 

“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 

“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”

“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 

“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”

You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.

“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.

“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”

“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 

“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 

You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 

“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 

In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 

As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 

“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.

Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 

“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 

“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 

“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 

Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.

The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.

“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 

Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”

“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 

“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 

Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 

“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 

“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 

The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 

“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 

“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.

“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”

“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 

“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 

“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 

You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  

[awsok]

shin hati — season one character study

introduction in the odyssey, emily wilson / ahsoka, 'master and apprentice' / ahsoka, 'fallen jedi' / so we must meet apart, gabrielle bates & jennifer s. cheng / ahsoka, 'far far away' / between dog and wolf, rené-xavier prinet / ahsoka, 'far far away' / ahsoka, 'dreams and madness' / ahsoka, 'dreams and madness' / camp damascus, chuck tingle / ahsoka, 'the jedi the witch and the warlord' / the sun is also a star, nicola yoon

[henrykathman]

The Miraculous Horror of Stop Motion

From the same artform that brought you Coraline and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, comes three stories that evoke the existential fear of art.

Original Music by Molly Noise

Bibliography below

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Brubaker, Charles. “The Japanese Studios of Rankin/Bass.” Cartoon Research, Jerry Beck, 14 Apr. 2014, cartoonresearch.com/index.php/the-japanese-studios-of-rankinbass/.

Bute, Paris. “Introduction to “a Rankin/Bass Retrospective from a New Perspective.”” Citizen Jane, Stephens College, 19 Nov. 2021, www.citizenjane.org/home/cwwicd2ucb2fvs64kgfaocfykjhaum. Accessed 19 June 2024.

Crome, Althea. “Coraline.” Althea Crome | Micro Knitter, 2012, www.altheacrome.com/coraline. Accessed 19 June 2024.

Harold Halibut. Directed by Onat Hekimoğlu, Slow Bros., 16 Apr. 2024.

Hekimoglu, Onat, and Gabriel Schmitz. “Unite Berlin 2018 - Harold Halibut and Making a Stop Motion Game.” Unity, YouTube, 6 Aug. 2018, youtu.be/9usssSQc0wQ. Accessed 6 May 2023.

Jon "Sikamikanico" Clarke. “The Making of Harold Halibut.” XboxEra, YouTube, 21 Mar. 2024, youtu.be/WMyxM9t3o7A. Accessed 19 June 2024.

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Ono, Kosei. “Tadahito Mochinaga: The Japanese Animator Who Lived in Two Worlds.” Animation World Network, AWN, Inc, 1 Dec. 1999, www.awn.com/animationworld/tadahito-mochinaga-japanese-animator-who-lived-two-worlds.

Orland, Kyle. “Claptrap Voice Actor Accuses Gearbox CEO of Assault, Underpayment.” Ars Technica, 7 May 2019, arstechnica.com/gaming/2019/05/claptrap-voice-actor-accuses-gearbox-ceo-of-assault-underpayment/. Accessed 19 June 2024.

Pilling, Jayne. A Reader In Animation Studies. Indiana University Press, 1998. Project MUSE muse.jhu.edu/book/40033.

Prehistoric Beast. Directed by Phil Tippett, Tippett Studios, 1984. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlaXIRTjNfo

Randles, Jonathan. “VFX Studio with Star Wars, Jurassic Park Credits Goes Bankrupt.” Bloomberg Law, 1 May 2024, news.bloomberglaw.com/bankruptcy-law/vfx-studio-with-star-wars-jurassic-park-credits-goes-bankrupt. Accessed 19 June 2024.

Shanley, Patrick. “Gearbox Software CEO Accused of Contempt in Latest Filing.” The Hollywood Reporter, 27 Aug. 2019, www.hollywoodreporter.com/business/digital/gearbox-software-ceo-accused-contempt-latest-filing-1235064/. Accessed 19 June 2024.

The Making of “Jurassic Park.” Directed by John Schultz, Amblin Entertainment, 1995. https://youtu.be/8r01mk6F_Pk

The Making of Mad God. Directed by Maya Tippett, Shudder, 2021. https://youtu.be/sfUOHh0xmwc

The Tale of the Fox. Directed by Irene Starewicz and Ladislas Starevich, UFA GmbH, 10 Apr. 1941. https://youtu.be/Us_Pn6Q1dBQ

Wikipedia contributors. "List of films with longest production time." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 12 Jun. 2024. Web. 19 Jun. 2024.

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Wikipedia contributors. "List of Rankin/Bass Productions films." Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, 9 Jun. 2024. Web. 19 Jun. 2024.

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Wilson, Josh. “Phil Tippett: 24 Frames per Second < the Fabulist Words & Art.” The Fabulist Words & Art, 5 Nov. 2021, fabulistmagazine.com/24-frames-per-second-the-phil-tippett-interview/.

Worse than the Demon. Directed by Maya Tippett, Shudder, 2013. https://youtu.be/ghKqvDNRe4c

[mikkaeus]

house md hilson fic rec - medium to long fics (10k+)

Other house rec lists: short fics | episode tags | postcanon | infidelity trope (all of these are mutually exclusive apart from the infidelity one) // Edit: I added the longer postcanon fics to this reclist as well because this one got the most traction!

These are all House/Wilson unless otherwise stated. Before we get into the fics, here are some of my fave authors that have written several house fics.

fourteencandles: im literally in love with them . 10/10 writing no notes. also long fics?? hello???

ictus: this author has the range! from emotional to fluff to funny. very smooth writing. all of their fics have different vibes which was fun to read. they’re all very good. 

Transformatron: fics that are transcendent and porny, all featuring a d/s undertone or theme (wilson as the dom)

Namaste (livejournal / ff.net): Some short fics, some much longer ones. Mostly gen focussing on H&W friendship, with some fics on canon pairings. Interesting character studies and discerning prose.

In order of length. *faves, ***underrated faves

*Brain Damage by fourteencandles (8k) (Ok I know this isn’t over 10k but I wanted all of their fics on one post and it’s close enough so.) This was brilliant. Like a real episode of House, with Wilson as the unfortunate patient-of-the-week, with bonus House/Wilson. Characterisation was bang on, and the plot was original and engaging and had a satisfying conclusion. Love to see House taking care of Wilson.

Down to the Water + Bound for Home by blackmare (~10k) Aftermath of season 4. House and Wilson go on a road trip. Quiet and sad and fragile, with excellent writing. This fic appears to have been fairly well known in lj days but I don't think a lot of newer people know about it.

*A Smaller World by fourteencandles (10k) The thing between them works, if Wilson doesn't push for more. God I’m so soft. I have so many feelings!!! In love with this established relationship hilson, still a little precarious, but with Wilson adapting, and House willing to put in effort.

*What's Past by fourteencandles (10k) The guy who used to have Wilson's job comes back for a visit, and it turns out they have more in common than Wilson ever knew.

*Touch Therapy by nomad (10k) It's not that House needs the human contact. It's just that when you're sharing an apartment, these things happen sometimes. Light hearted and funny, canon divergence from when Wilson’s staying on House's couch in s2. This is pretty much the homosexual waters have started flowing in House's direction post. Excellent dialogue.

***not another medical drama series (10k) by captainharkness Retelling of season 1 with House and Wilson as an established relationship. Great slice of life stories! Ongoing. The first is H/W POV, the second is Cameron, and the third is Chase. My favourite is definitely the second one (someone else’s story). I adore seeing H/W through the ducklings’ eyes. 

Synchronicity by copperbadge (10k) Dead patients, car wrecks, drug overdoses, journalists, Comatose Charlie, and orange chicken. Must be love.

systemic by ictus (10k) Ever since Wilson moved in, House has presented with some inexplicable symptoms. Fortunately, he has a team of talented doctors to aid him with his diagnosis. Season 2 fic! This one is funny and sweet and overall a great read.

Rush Down Darkness by Starlingthefool (10k) House MD/World War Z crossover. Told mainly through interview dialogue from house’s pov. Engaging story. House/Wilson definitely takes a backseat to the plot — there’s no grand getting together or anything. That's not to say it's not about them though, because there were still lots of good moments (good in the sense that my heart hurts). More succinctly, it has the vibes of an established relationship fic., although it isn't technically one.

Defensive Strategies by Milkshake Butterfly (~10k) (lj) In which Wilson is tired of being asked out by women when he's not ready to date again, and naturally House proposes a simple solution: pretend to be together. An enjoyable read.

******Commonplace and True by celestialskiff (11k) It would be a simple story--House and Wilson meet at a medical conference, have sex, and enjoy each other's company--but nothing is ever easy, or simple. Explores Wilson's relationship with House, with women, and with himself. House and Wilson throughout the years — with the version of canon where Wilson has cheated on every wife and girlfriend with House. When I tell you I am FROTHING!!! Pining while fucking?? The way it’s never the right time?? The greed of wanting to have your cake and eat it too? (That one’s specifically for Wilson, our beloved three-wives guy.) The vibes are immaculate. The prose is elegant verging on poetic. I’m eating this fic whole and it will be on my mind always. It is THE hilson fic for me. It is criminal that this fic has been up since 2012 and it only has 200 kudos. Go read it immediately & give the author some love.

***Declarations of Independence by Namaste (ff.net, also on livejournal) (11k) House and winter, throughout the years. I really enjoyed this. Excellent writing. Copy pasting a part of a comment by bedawyn which articulates why this fic is unique better than I can: “So far, I've seen a lot of focus in the fanfic (and the eps) on the pain and the Vicodin, but very little awareness of the practical aspects of limited mobility and the emotional impact of those even apart from the pain. So this was a very nice change.”

***Rule of Three by Transformatron (11k) (House/Wilson/Foreman) Foreman sees something he shouldn't have. And, maybe, wants something he shouldn't have, too. This was well written and super hot, with fun dialogue and descriptions that do justice to the excellent writing of the show itself. Foreman is faithfully characterised in a way that made me sympathetic. Also H/W outsider perspective as a third is such a treat to read. Lower me into my grave!!!!

*Warning Signs by out_there (12k) Excerpt: House looked to the left, staring down at the open box. Wilson knew that expression on his face: House was torn between denying it all and gleefully acknowledging his schemes. Normally, his ego won out and, like a comic super villain, he'd explain all. Wilson just needed to stay quiet and wait. This fic was fantastic. I am disgustingly fond. Superb characterisation. Light hearted and funny.

The Oncologist Trap by zulu (13k) (2007) House subtly seduces Wilson. Somehow.

The Line of Thought by tevinterimperium (13k) House and Wilson pretend to be together to play a prank on the ducklings, which is an extremely plausible scenario. From the perspective of the ducklings. Set sometime after 3x15: Half-Wit.

hail mary by ictus (13k) A post-canon fix it! In the weeks since finishing the show and reading this fic there are times I forgot that this wasn’t canon. It’s such a believable (and well-researched) alternate ending that feels like an actual episode.

Son of Mine by simoneallen (14k) Sherlock is House’s long-lost kid. Usually I’m not a fan of cross-over fics but I enjoyed this one. Established relationship on the johnlock side, getting together on the hilson side.

***hearts turn red by ictus (14k) In my head this is the counterpoint to Commonplace and True. When I found it after reading that one it really was a holy shit two fucking cakes?? moment. The delicious infidelity vibes are similar, but the vibes of the writing are pretty different -- whereas the above fic has a more quiet, subdued atmosphere, this one has more snappy prose and it’s more light-hearted with funny moments as well as emotional ones. It’s not just the infidelity theme that makes me crazy about both of them though; it’s how they play on the great tragedy of House and Wilson. In the author’s own words: In a way they do feel a little bit doomed to never quite be on the same page with each other until the very end of the series and by then it's too late. Of course, in these fics, they’re rescued earlier than the end, but the wretched vibes remain. Also, I’m obsessed with this line: By Wilson’s read, House is somehow simultaneously joking and sincere: Schrödinger’s sexual advance. That is the entire fucking show.

An Inconvenient Truth by annathaema (15k) Wilson helps out Cuddy and reveals something about himself in the process. House freaks out accordingly. Also features banana-colored babies, the men's room, and Skee-Ball.

*at the rind by ShanaStoryteller (19k) An AU where Wilson experiences all the near death moments House has in the show as a series of nightmares. Set between 1.19 and 2.05, but spoilers for the whole show. Protective Wilson!! We love to see it. I also like Wilson’s characterisation here - you can very much see how not-normal he is. We love unhealthy co-dependency.

***Esopus Creek by shaycat (24k) An eighty-year-old widower by the name of Eugene Skinner ventures out one September day in upstate New York for his usual morning activity - fly fishing. His leisurely hobby is interrupted by a bickering pair nearby in the river. That chance encounter with Greg House and James Wilson changes the course of his life. Told from the perspective of the last friend the boys make on their final road trip. This was the perfect post season 8, Wilson-still-dies fic. A sad fic but not a depressing one. It’s quiet and heartwarming, in a bittersweet way. Highly recommend. It has great use of outsider POV — I’m always a sucker for it but it worked particularly well in this case to have the angst but not be drowning in it. Also I just really liked the OC.

***Howler Tone by baffledbear (25k) The calls always happen late at night, and they're extremely sporadic, with weeks, sometimes months bridging between them. They talk on the phone otherwise, of course; about patients, or dinner plans, or carpooling. Typical stuff. But the calls that always end a certain way always start a certain way. Wilson is so repressed but so attracted to House. House is taking as much as he can get while still remaining in relative safety. Together they push a platonic relationship to the absolute limits of plausible deniability. Overall totally realistic within the canon of the show — the natural step up from the gay chicken already depicted. It’s just such a perfect scenario for them! That combined with silky smooth prose, faithful characterisation and accurate dialogue makes this fic is a definite hilson favourite and also a hilson-thesis fic.

*The Open Road by Pun (25k) A fandom classic. Road trip fic set in the earlier seasons. It's good; read it.

*He Won't Tell You That He Loves You by hellshandbasket (25k) [In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can't stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.] Early s6. Another fandom classic that is worth its salt.

no need to worry (making up your mind) by scribespirare (25k) House makes the mistake of telling his mother he can't join her for Christmas because of his new boyfriend. Somehow, this becomes Wilson's problem. Cute and fun. I put off reading fake-dating fics because I was worried about them being OOC but this one definitely wasn’t!

***Sticks and Stones by Transformatron (25k) (WIP) House has an innovative new idea for managing his chronic pain. Wilson’s not sure he approves - but when has House ever asked for permission? This is such a great concept I am climbing the walls!!! D/s with House as the sub. The story is currently still at pre-relationship stage, with House experimenting with BDSM and Wilson being unhappy with the proceedings (for some unknown reason /s). Also the writing is nice and snappy with some great figurative language that manages to incorporate medical themes impressively well. 

Fresh Feeling by justkeeptrekkin (30k) House is tricked into going on a team-building trip with his colleagues. He does far more bonding with Wilson than anyone else. Funny and well written. The team interactions are very cute.

***Tracking Time by Namaste (37k) (ff.net) A look at House and Wilson's friendship over the years and how it has changed from their meeting through the end of the first season. I don’t usually read long genfics but this one was exceptional. I like Namaste’s take on House and Wilson’s characters. And they are a very good storyteller — one thing that you don’t tend to see as much of in fanfiction is the old adage of ‘show not tell’. The writing in this fic is careful and subtle, and lets you read between the lines, making it so that no part of the 37k words is a drag to read.

*The Body Found by fourteencandles (46k) Wilson's missing. When I tell you I cried... Premium angst & hurt/comfort. Excellent dialogue with some alternating POV (House mainly, but you also get the three ducklings & Cuddy).

You Already Know How This Will End by fourteencandles (46k) What if House had gone to rehab right after/around "Merry Little Christmas"? (3.10) This fic was interesting. It’s told in a series of short vignettes with a variety of different perspectives. It’s not really a hilson fic (or a fic for any ship). It just explores the characters. I did wish for more hilson but it’s a good read (I mean, it’s fourteencandles). The one hilson scene near the end where they hire a hooker in Atlantic City lives in my head rent free. Warning that the ending is rather abrupt and I didn’t find it satisfying, but I think it works for this kind of story, in a way. Messy people and their complicated relationships, with a lot of loose ends left untied, because that’s just what life is. 

***For Every Closed Door by starlingthefool (around 50k?) (lj) Overview of the chapters (14 with 4 interludes and an epilogue) is on the author’s lj (scroll down).  House MD/Dead Like Me crossover.  I love this fic a lot! It’s canon divergence from Season 3. House gets killed in a freak accident and becomes a reaper, remaining in the mortal world to harvest souls, able to interact with people but not be recognisable to those that know him. As the author says, this is an Afterlife!Fic and therefore a deathfic. They also said it’s not depressing — which is true, because it’s more plotty than an angstfest, and there are lots of light-hearted parts, but it is definitely heartbreaking at points. I literally cried all the way through the last chapter. Happy ending though!!! Don’t worry about the cross-over aspects. I haven’t seen Dead Like Me, and as far as I can tell, it just takes the premise of the show. I’m glad I found this fic whilst trawling 2000s livejournal because it’s really a hidden gem. Great plot, dialogue, compelling OCs — the whole package! I got so emotionally invested in the story. I think there were maybe a few parts that were a little unpolished but just keep reading. It’s really worth it. 

*A Modest Proposal and Involuntary Commitment series by ignaz (98k) The one where House and Wilson get married so Wilson can’t testify against House in the Tritter arc.  I have an unfortunate habit of downloading fics and then forgetting to bookmark & comment once I’m done, so I don’t have anything detailed to say about this one, but it’s a classic and a favourite of mine.

Twenty Years of Stealing My Food by hwshipper (100k) A backstory taking place over twenty years, from how House and Wilson met all the way to canon. A reimagining of their fucked up, magnetic relationship, with a straightforward writing style. They get together nearly as soon as they meet and maintain a steady open relationship whilst cheating on their various girlfriends and wives throughout the years. 

[novy2sirius]

The funniest numerical energies

3 energy

This is the number of comedy itself. People with 3 energy in their birthday are very quick with their puns and quite witty. They may roast you a lot. They do have child like energy though, so depending on their other numbers at worst they can be obnoxious at times or really loud

• [Example] Kevin Hart - life path 3, Chris Rock - life path 3, Tana Mongeau - life path 3, Megan Fox - attitude # 3

7 energy

They’re one of the most intelligent numbers and studies show that being funny is actually linked to higher intelligence. You’ll find a lot of comedians are life path 7’s most often

• [Example] Dave Chappelle - life path 7 (also 8th month), Matt Rife - life path 7, Jack Harlow - life path 7/attitude # 7

8 energy

The number 8 looks like two 3’s put together. For this reason 8’s have a bit of 3 energy in the sense that they’re very funny

• [Example] KeKe Palmer - born on the 8th/attitude # 7, Druski - life path 8, Rebel Wilson - life path 8, Bobby Lee - life path 8, Jonah Hill - life path 8

9 energy

9’s are known for being great entertainers and are one of the most intelligent numbers which as I said earlier is linked to people being humorous

• [Example] Aubrey Plaza-life path 9, Jim Carrey-life path 9, Adam Sandler - born on September 9th

33 energy

This number has two 3’s in it (the number of comedy) which makes them very funny. Since they’re old souls they tend to be naturally very funny even in their childhood

• [Example] Albert Einstein - life path 33 (a lot of people don’t know but he was so funny, charming, and intelligent that even Marilyn Monroe wanted to date him but he turned her down), XXX Tentacion - life path 33

Honorable Mention: 13/31

• [Example] Theo Von - 31 life path with attitude number 13

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

[wisteria-lodge]

Assorted historical notes for the first chapter of my jedtavius fic (happy pride everybody...)

~ Romans took their public baths extremely seriously, and setting one up would be high priority for a garrison stationed out in the territories (basically the situation in these movies?) Nudity in the context of baths was just normal.

~ For some reason, Octavius wears his cape slung across his chest

instead of pinned to his shoulder(s) like a Roman cape.

If anything, this seems to be riffing on the 1600s half-cape, which is often strung cross-body like that in a sort of Renaissance *costume.*

Note: these are both modern historical costumes. It seems in the actual 1600s it was more normal to just sort of balance your capelet on one arm, or wear it over both shoulders (like when you wear a big coat without putting your arms through the sleeves.)

1600s capes are especially annoying to study, because basically all of them were tailored into 1700s coats, but WHATEVER.

(diegetically, since Octavius the tiny Roman lives in a museum, I guess he could be influenced by the 1600s cape costume, and just decide to wear his cape like that.)

~ “Sinister” is just Latin for “on the left side.” Couldn’t resist a latin joke, especially since Owen Wilson (and therefore Jed) is left-handed.

~ Roman orgies and sex parties were not really all that common. Like sure, they're brought up in the context of Caligula, Nero, Tiberus - the classics. But, your Roman writers historians and archivists were extremely political, and when you hear about this stuff there is always a political motive behind it, and almost certainly some exaggeration. Roman writers loved their gossip.

However, as a literary trope 'the Roman orgy' is extremely important. Most people in the buttoned-up 1800s saw Rome as this fascinating but immoral free-for-all, and we haven't totally shaken that off. And since Octavius is written as a slightly comic version of our current cultural idea of ‘Roman’... orgies are absolutely part of that.

(It’s the same reason I threw in the two-handed ‘Roman Handshake,’ even though as far as I can figure out, it was invented for a production of Julius Caesar in 1898. Romans seemed to just - shake hands.)

~ One of the interesting thing about the The Night at the Museum franchise is its interest in exploring the 21st century Idea of a Roman, the Idea of a Cowboy, the Idea of Theodore Roosevelt (even more than the historical reality.) It's a plot point that Museum Exhibit!Teddy knows that he's not Teddy Roosevelt, and kind of struggles with the symbolic importance people give to him. Octavius is very much a Movie!Roman, not a History!Roman. Even the fact that he's played by a British actor with a very British accent makes him seem like a background Roman General in Ben-Hur, here to deliver a letter, say "Yes sir, the rebels have returned from the provinces with new allies," and then die half an hour from the end to raise the stakes.

The exception to this is Ahkmenrah, who as a mummy that comes to life, is not a museum exhibit, he's just A Guy and *that's* the joke. He's not engaging with, or symbolic of 21st century tropes and stereotypes surrounding the idea of "pharaoh." He's just a person doing his own thing. Compare this to Kahmunrah from the sequel, who IS both a pharaoh and an exhibit come to life. So of course he's all about the literary tropes historically attached to the linked ideas "pharaoh, desert, villain." He's sadistic, he's camp, he's super queer coded, he's got a lisp, and he's putting our hero in a hour-glass death trap just like Jafar.

[chas3supremacist]

big brother, best friend

pairing/s: Robert Chase x Sister!Reader (Platonic, obviously.)

summary: Robert Chase being the best big brother for 1800 words straight despite being through hell himself.

Request - Anonymous asked:

what about older brother/cousin/family friend (basically someone you're close to and grew up with) Robert Chase who hates when people in the hospital try to flirt with the reader. maybe he even gets the rest of house's team + wilson to also prevent them from getting hit on

 cw: overprotective big bro chase!! cat calling, sexual harassment, mentions of child abuse, childhood trauma

word count: 1.8k words

a/n: I love big brother chase!! best big brother on planet earth!! Also, I know that chase canonically has a younger half sister who he took care of, but for the sake of my fic, I'm going to be ignoring that - The reader is chase's full sister! Also, for the first couple paragraphs of this there is little to no dialogue, just backstory! Also I kind of differed from the request so I hope you liked this anon! also this is an absolutely atrocious ending on my part im so sorry

For as long as you could remember, your older brother had looked after you - Despite him being 5 years older than you. He'd try and settle you the best that he could while your father was away on his work trips, and when your mother was drinking and couldn't deal with the two of you and she would lock you in your fathers office. He knew that your mother hated the two of you from a young age, but it didn't click for you - You loved your mom more than anything ever, even if she didn't feel the same way about you.

When your dad left when you and Chase were ten and fifteen, it left the two of you to look after your alcoholic mother - Chase took the brunt of looking after her, since you were still so young. He had taken on more than any child his age should have ever needed to, he was responsible for both you and your mom. He was responsible for making sure that you got to school and picking you up, responsible for making sure that you were eating, that your homework was done. Well, that was until your father made a brief return, only to tell your brother that he was sending you off to boarding school in England, claiming that Chase should be focusing on more important things rather than looking after you since that should be your mom's job. You spent 3 years at boarding school, on your own in a country you had never been to in your life before your brother decided that he would attend seminary in England.

Despite everything that had happened to you in your relatively short life, Chase had always known you to be happy and cheery even in the darkest situations - However, 3 years at boarding school had clearly had a negative impact on how you viewed your life and yourself. You were excited to see your brother, of course you were, but you were nowhere near as happy as you would have been had your father not torn you away from your entire life and made you start a new one at 10 years old. Chase took you out at the weekends when he could, but found himself having 'a crisis of faith' - Meaning he slept with the groundskeeper of the seminary's wife and was reconsidering his commitment to his faith. Upon leaving the seminary, Chase found himself considering returning to Australia to attend the University of Sydney to continue his study of medicine - He felt terrible for considering not telling you and disappearing. But he soon remembered how you were feeling when he had first seen you, you looked exhausted and as if you hadn't eaten in days; Remembering that, Chase knew that he couldn't leave you.

Since then, you had been living with your brother, moving to New Jersey with him since he had went for a job at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital - Unbeknownst to you, your father had called up Chase's boss, Dr House to convince him to give him the job. You had turned 18 the week before Chase started his new job, and since you were starting college, it appeared that you both had something to celebrate. Chase was beyond proud of you, you had gotten straight A's all throughout high school and had received a full scholarship to Stanford Law School in California, where you could at least travel back to see your brother since at least this time you were in the same country - Which you often did. Your drive to become a lawyer was so you could specialise in family law, after talking through your childhood with your therapist, you decided that you wanted to make a difference to children like yours lives before things could go as far as they did for you. Now on your summer break from your junior year, you were going to spend the summer in New Jersey with Chase - He had told you of the new fellows that House hired, Allison Cameron and Eric Foreman. You had teased him about Cameron, saying that you gave it 3 months before they were sleeping together.

You rubbed your tired eyes as you walked through the hallways of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, you hadn't managed to sleep on your 5 and a half hour flight from San Diego to New Jersey and it was really taking its toll on you - You didn't cope well without sleep, which your brother would attest to. You sighed and threw your head back against the wall of the elevator, exhaling heavily as your backpack weighed heavy on your shoulders. You gave a tight lipped smile to the janitor who stood in the elevator with you, who grinned back at you, giving you an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You looked away from him, opting to look at your legs instead.

"You're a beautiful girl, you know," He told you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You shied away from him, feeling your heart pound against your chest as you saw his face screw up at you implicit rejection of his advance. "Listen, I'm just trying to compliment you, you don't need to be a bitch about it." He scolded angrily, moving to stand in front of you as you blinked back the tears which burned in your eyes.

"Please just leave me alone," Was all you could meekly manage out as a response to his anger at your rejection. He stepped back as the elevator dinged at your floor, acting as if nothing had happened. As you pulled your hoodie over yourself, you froze as the janitor grabbed your butt. You sighed and shook your head, trying to stop yourself from crying as you stepped out of the elevator and made your way to the diagnostics department. You sighed as you opened the door to the office, freezing like a deer caught in headlights as an older man, who you presumed to be Dr House, spun around to face you.

"Chase, why is there a mini you standing in my office?" 

Chase looked up, a grin on his face as he saw you in Houses office. House knew that Chase had a sister, but he had never met her - Now he wished he had met her sooner.

"Hey," You greeted him, looking out of the office window, fearing that the janitor had followed you to the office. Chase took note of your lack of enthusiasm and how alarmed you seemed to be. He stood and came to hug you, noticing how you almost flinched at your brother stepping towards you - From this alone, Chase knew that something had happened.

"Are you okay?" His big brother instincts were cranked up to 11 as he saw the tears bubbling in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. You always got this way when something happened, you would try and be brave about it, but the second someone asked if you were okay, you would crumble. Chase knew you were close to crumbling when your bottom lip started to tremble. "Okay, why don't we go outside," You nodded in agreement to chases suggestion, not listening as he apologised to House, who made some kind of snide remark that you didn't care to listen to. 

You managed to hold back the tears until you got out of the office, and that was when you crumbled, breaking down into tears in your brothers arms. "It's okay. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Chase asked you, his heart breaking and anger filling him at the thought of someone making you so upset.

"W-well I got in the elevator to come up here and there was a janitor in there too and so I didn't say anything to him and-and then he called me beautiful," You tried to compose yourself a bit before continuing so that your brother could at least understand you a little better. "And so he like...reaches out to touch my shoulder and I move away from him and then he says that I'm being a bitch because he's just trying to compliment me and then when I left the elevator he grabbed my butt." You explained to him. Chase was beyond mad. How could someone do that to you? To anyone, never mind his own baby sister.

"Did you manage to see his name on his badge?" He asked you gently, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were. You sniffled as you nodded, rubbing your eyes and nose as you tried to calm yourself down.

"Yeah, it was David, he was like..5'3, bald, had a really weird looking beard," You described to Chase, who nodded as he hugged you again. He'd make sure that he was punished to the full extent Cuddy could punish a janitor, which would hopefully mean that he would lose his job, and have to explain to potential employers that he was fired for sexual harassment. And maybe, just maybe, Chase would pay him a visit. Chase was by no mean a violent person, but if someone messed with his little sister, he wouldn't let that slide - He had once hospitalised one of your ex boyfriends who had sent an explicit photo of you around your school.

Yeah, maybe you didn't have such a terrible big brother.

[honestlyeddie-im-bi]

Nobody asked for this but last night I couldn’t sleep and my only thought was ‘wait what kind of music does the firefam listen to????’. So, here are my opinions:

Bobby: dad rock. I mean it. 70’s and early 80’s music is his jam. Even at his most depressed he still accepted to go to a Springsteen concert with the probie. David Bowie is like his hero tho.

Athena: she still listens to the same stuff she used to listen to while in college and before Emmett died. Late eighties/early nineties RnB mostly.

Hen Wilson: I feel like her playlist would be a bit all over the place time wise BUT what all the artists she listens to have in common is that they’re either self-made women (particularly self-made black women) or big sapphic names in music. She loves Rihanna a lot, but Chappell Roan has been on a loop in her ears in the last couple of weeks.

Karen: I could make a joke here and say that she listens to lots of musicals but I won’t do that. She mostly likes instrumentals, quite stuff she can listen to when she studies or works. Her favourite album is the OST to Pride and Prejudice (2005)

Chimney: he does not have a favourite genre, his playlist is the current Top 50 and he has an incredible memory for them. He loves EVERYTHING. I know you guys like to believe Buck is a Swiftie, but Chimney is the one who has been listening to her religiously since Day 1. Fun fact no. 1: the only times he did not keep up with the top 50 was when Kevin died and when Maddie left for Boston. Fun fact no. 2: one day he came into the 118 singing Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter and the rest of the firefam did not know what to do with that fact.

Maddie: BALLADS BALLADS BALLADS BALLADS.

Eddie: This man cannot get himself to listen to new music to save his life. Most of the songs in his library are songs he just stumbled upon on the radio or that were part of soundtracks. For this reason, there are lots of Spanish songs from his silly little telenovelas in there. He mostly loves poetic songs. For some reason, he cried for like 30 minutes straight while listening to Dos oruguitas from Encanto for the first time

Buck: he doesn’t really listen to much music. He used to have this playlist for the gym but now that he trains at the station he loves listening to the people that he loves moving around him. When he’s driving he puts on a podcast and he tries to learn something new everyday.

Tommy: Bobby but like 20 years later. Rock music from the late eighties and early nineties. He cried when he heard that Guns n’ Roses where splitting up and was the first in line to buy Chinese Democracy when Axl Rose finally released it. He loved Kurt Cobain. He still listens to Foo Fighters. He LOVES Metallica. Enter Sandman was his favourite song for a long while but now for some reasons his favourite song is Patience by Guns n’ Roses.

[maggisaaart]

Dr Pride (My SCP-963 Rewrite)

I’m still working on it. But here’s Dr. Pride. He’s the current doctor I use for my SCP (dnd) campaign! I’ve been crafting him for a couple months. I hope you all enjoy him.

(Here’s a written version in case you can’t see it due to low quality)

Name: J——- Pride

Security Clearance Level: 3

Current Assignment: Assistant to the Director

Profile: Dr. Pride is an eccentric French doctor who currently works at site-19. He is easily identified by his odd selection of t-shirts. An example would be A black shirt that says “Rest in Peace Princess Diana” with an image of famous actor Owen Wilson underneath the text. He may also have been seen wearing interesting pajama pants around the foundation.

J. Pride’s appearance is one of a black male in his mid to late 30s with long blackish-red tinted hair. His hair is usually kept in braids or dreads. His appearance, however, may change due to him being the holder of SCP-963. SCP-963 is engraved into Dr. Pride’s chest where his heart is located. The effect of SCP-963 is that he can take the form of any creature, person, or object that he has studied. However, whichever form he takes still behaves as a living being and can go through its life cycle. He is currently on his second life cycle.

[Audio Log 12/09/—]

Redacted: So Dr. Pride, how long have you been here at our foundation?

Dr. Pride: Been here since the 80’s baby! Just kidding, it’s only been 29 years. I got here around 1995 and was working alongside my parents for the longest time.

Redacted: your parents? I was informed one was a previous site director, yes?

Dr. Pride: Yep! My old man, poor old bastard, had it coming to him.

Redacted: …Excuse me?

Dr. Pride: What were we saying?

[allastoredeer]

I'm curious if you planning to write NSFW fic(s) yourself? Your gen fics are amazing and it would be interesting to read 18+ in your style 😏

Hehehehe oh contraire mon frère, I have already written several NSFW fics 😎

This is Going to End in Disaster, Babe Wake Up, It's Pumpkin Spice Season, Misfire, Wade Wilson's Guide to Studying Your Spider (Spider-Man/Deadpool)

Lizard Brain (Spider-Man/Lizard)

Shaping Beskar, Gratitude (Mandalorian - Boba Fett/Din Djarin, Paz Vizla/Din Djarin)

And those are just the ones with the smut already written, I have a few that are going to have smut, I just haven't gotten to that part of the story yet. And these are the ones that just involve sex, not the darker themes that also fall under NSFW. (Except for "Shaping Beskar" that one DEFINITELY falls under the dark category)

But as for Hazbin Hotel, yes! I will be writing NSFW, for both "Just Kiss Already" and a few other wips I have in mind. I have quite a few of them planned out, actually. With various ships. It's just a matter of getting to them.

And I am very excited to get to them ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀)

[dailyanarchistposts]

Ancient Ways: In Defense of Cultivation

“We cared for our corn in those days as we would care for a child; for we Indian people loved our gardens, just as a mother loves her children; and we thought that our growing corn liked to hear us sing, just as children like to hear their mother sing to them.” — Buffalo Bird Woman (Hidasta)

With a modern food system so tied to capitalism and the industrial production-oriented model, it’s hard for us to see how to feed ourselves outside of them. While it’s imperative that we look forward and adapt to our modern context to some degree, it’s by looking back to times before institutions reigned that we start to see our way out.

The erosion of traditional foodways began at different times for different cultures. A basic misconception (or perhaps miscommunication) about “primitivist” theory is that the dawn of food cultivation some 10,000 years ago represented the “fall from grace” of humanity, and that everything that has been developed since that point has been tainted with die impurity of “domestication” and “civilization”. But this simplistic analysis reflects the same reductionist logic that has led to the social diseases of modern life. What was likely a simple adaptation for survival in die face of massive climactic changes did in many, cases lead people down a slippery slope toward domination of nature, but in many cultures, this was simply not the case. Even today, many indigenous cultures thrive on horticultural, village-scale food systems. At the time of white settlement of North America, dozens of indian groups practiced such methods without the trappings of civilization. (See Native American Gardening By J, Bruchac and Buffalo Bird Woman’s Garden: Agriculture of the Hidasta Indians as told to Gilbert L. Wilson, also available online at www.digital. library.upenn.edu/women/buffalo/garden/garden.html)

The fact that many native cultures have endured using traditional horticultural methods, while remaining free from the trappings of civilization (aside from that which was imposed upon them) is testament to the possibilities of egalitarian social relations coexisting with the cultivation of food.

Contrary to the fundamentalist viewpoints that see cultivation itself as inherently dominating, the simple act of collecting seeds and replanting them elsewhere to provide more food sources could actually be seen as a complementary development to a gathering-hunting lifestyle. The transportation of seeds through feces is the basis of much plant reproduction in the wild and in the garden, and may have been the inspiration for humyns to begin cultivating certain plants. Even the selection of certain seeds for desired traits is a way humyns have actually enhanced biodiversity by “opening up” a species to diverse, highly adaptable variations. Instead of viewing the original cultivators with suspicion and doubt, why not appreciate the sensitivity and creativity it required for them to adapt to conditions by entering into a more complex and interactive relationship with nature? Can we make a distinction between cultivation and domestication?

In her book Food in History, Reay Tannahill theorizes that at the beginning of the “Neolithic revolution,” nomadic foragers began camping beside meadows of wild grains waiting for the brief window of ripeness when they could catch the harvest before it fell to the ground. After returning to these places annually, they eventually realized that if duty left some of the grain on the stalk they could expect a heartier harvest the next year. The next logical step was to begin scattering the seeds on the ground, at which point foragers became farmers. Responding to anthropologists’ assumptions that a large labor force was then required to harvest and process grain, thus giving rise to civilization. Tannahill quotes an archaeological study from the mid 1960’s: “In a three week harvesting period, a family of six could have reaped enough wild wheat to provide them with just under a pound of grain per head per day for a whole year” (J.R. Harlan, 1967)

The development of what we know as agriculture was not an overnight phenomenon, but rather a several thousand year-long project. In some places in the world, the earliest stages of cultivation were never surpassed, and remain sustainable today. In many more places, the pressures of the global economy have corrupted these practices just in this last century. But in most of the world today, we are witnessing the full-blown colonization of native foodways, and a nearly complete dependence on western industrial practices. To trace this “biodevestation” directly back to cultivation itself, is to ignore the history of conquest and land displacement that pushed the food systems of subsistence cultures to the brink, where they now teeter on the edge of extinction.

The loss of native foodways in favor of cheap, overprocessed industrial USDA staples has uncoincidenially served as one of the many vehicles of colonialism. The disconnection of food traditions from indigenous cultures has paved the way for illnesses like diabetes, cementing their dependence on western medicine in yet another way. In the Global South, traditional cultures are losing control of their food supplies faster than ever before. Distinct and diverse peoples of the world have become a prime target for conquest by western food producers like Archer Daniels Midland and Caigill. These modern day conquistadors ride the tails of the “Green Revolution” in chemical agriculture of the 50s. After replacing traditional food practices with a cynical “development” agenda based on monocrops and cheap exports, the conquest continues as structural adjustment policies and the current biotechnology phenomenon.

The logic of biotech makes complete sense as planned obsolescence: the same corporations who pushed the Green Revolution and all its chemicals and hybrid seeds, now seek to milk more profits out of fee sterile soil and resistant insects (and displaced peoples) that have resulted. New seeds are developed to adapt to the conditions that were caused by the same companies’ products 50 years ago! Decades of chemical intensive methods have created resistant weeds, so genetically engineered seeds are designed to withstand higher doses of chemicals. Industrial agriculture depends on these methods. At this point, we either turn away from industrial methods, or we accept the fate of high-tech food.

[bourniebna]

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I am currently in the mood to gush about Raven (DC), thus decide to have an organised Raven-related tag system so that my fellow Raven enthusiasts who happen to come across my humble blog could easily search for my Raven content.

Every Raven post will be tagged "#Raven DC" as well as "#in this house we do not call her", "#Rachel Roth", "#or", and "#Raven Roth". The last four tags are mainly for expanding the reach of the posts, but I am serious about my distaste for the name Rachel Roth or even Raven Roth.

Then, depending on the material discussed, the post can either be tagged "DC comics" or "DCAMU", etc., along with the name of the material (if it is in my knowledge and if it is the focus of the discussion).

For the shipping tags, I will only use 5 shipdom tags, namely "#WallyRae", "#KFRae", "#DamiRae", "#JeriRae", and "#RobRae". I will kind of use the BBRae tag, but it will mostly be "#antiBBRae". For other Raven's relationships, the tag formula will be "#Raven x [character name]" for nonromantic relationships and "#Raven/[character name]" for (any potentially) romantic relationships, with the name being the full first name and surname of the character (for example, Richard Grayson, Joseph Wilson, and Wallace West). The character's name will also be tagged individually if their characterisation is discussed with importance. There is one thing to note about the "#RobRae" tag, though: It is actually an umbrella tag for all ships with any characters that have been Robin EXCEPT Damian, so posts about "#DickRae", "#JayRae", or "#TimRae". for example, will all be tagged with "#RobRae" in addition to "#Raven/[character name]". But the other 4 shipdom tags will not be tagged along with "#Raven/[character name]".

For my own types of Raven's content, at the moment, there will be 5 categories with the corresponding tags:

"#Commentary": Where I briefly and casually analyse and comment on a specific detail/plot/moment from DC comics or movies. If the detail/plot/moment alone is comprehensive or so major to the understanding of Raven as a character, the post will be a discussion in a more serious manner and tagged with "#Character Study" instead. Otherwise, if the detail/plot/moment is only a small fraction of a certain aspect of Raven's characteristion, the post will just be a "#Commentary" and only the compilation of details/plots/moments of that nature will be tagged as a "#Character Study" post.

"#Character Study": Where I delve into the canon characterisation of Raven, specifically, or Raven's relationships.

"#Fanfiction": Where I attempt to write fanfics, apparently; also the place for me to dump my fanfic ideas and prompts in general.

"#Character Concept": Where I suggest ideas or headcanons on how Raven or Raven's relationship(s) could be developed canonically, mostly using non-DC inspiration sources.

"#Meme": Simply where I make Raven-related memes, or jokes.

And that is all! This post will be updated as soon as my content plan has any changes. Also, to sum up the kind of Raven fan I am:

I am one of those 80s Raven enthusiasts. But I am fond of DCAMU Raven as well.

I am a multishipper, with my true pairings being the 80s WallyRae/KFRae, DamiRae, and JeriRae. The other ships are only for funsies, although I might be a bit too passionate about the potential of the 80s DickRae and New 52 TimRae.

Despite being a multishipper, canon BBRae really is not my cup of tea. But I do have my own interpretation on how BBRae should be, if for some reasons the pairing has to occur.

There is no fathoming the depth of hatred I feel for the name Rachel Roth or even Raven Roth.

Hope that you all enjoy my content!

[sasheneskywalker]

books and articles about about comics, superheroes, dc and batman

books Ahrens, J., & Meteling, A. (Eds.). (2010). Comics and the City: Urban Space in Print, Picture and Sequence. A&C Black.

Bongco, M. (2014). Reading comics: Language, culture, and the concept of the superhero in comic books. Routledge.

Brode, D. (Ed.). (2022). The DC Comics Universe: Critical Essays. McFarland.

Brooker, W. (2013). Batman unmasked: Analyzing a cultural icon. Bloomsbury Publishing USA.

Burke, L., Gordon, I., & Ndalianis, A. (Eds.). (2020). The superhero symbol: media, culture, and politics. Rutgers University Press.

Dittmer, J., & Bos, D. (2019). Popular culture, geopolitics, and identity. Rowman & Littlefield.

DiPaolo, M. (2014). War, politics and superheroes: Ethics and propaganda in comics and film. McFarland.

Dyer, B. (Ed.). (2009). Supervillains and Philosophy: sometimes, evil is its own reward (Vol. 42). Open Court Publishing.

Geaman, K. L. (Ed.). (2015). Dick Grayson, boy wonder: Scholars and creators on 75 years of Robin, Nightwing and Batman. McFarland.

Giddens, T. (Ed.). (2015). Graphic justice: Intersections of comics and law. Routledge.

Heer, J., & Worcester, K. (Eds.). (2009). A comics studies reader. Univ. Press of Mississippi.

Irwin, W. (2009). Batman and philosophy: The dark knight of the soul. John Wiley & Sons.

Langley, T. (2022). Batman and psychology: A dark and stormy knight. Turner Publishing Company.

McKittrick, C. (2015). Fan phenomena: Batman, edited by Liam Burke.

Ndalianis, A. (Ed.). (2009). The contemporary comic book superhero (Vol. 19). Routledge.

O'Connor, L. R. (2021). Robin and the Making of American Adolescence. Rutgers University Press.

O'Neil, D., & Wilson, L. (Eds.). (2008). Batman Unauthorized: Vigilantes, Jokers, and Heroes in Gotham City. BenBella Books.

Packer, S., & Fredrick, D. R. (Eds.). (2020). Welcome to Arkham Asylum: Essays on Psychiatry and the Gotham City Institution. McFarland.

Pearson, R., & Uricchio, W. (Eds.). (2023). The many lives of the Batman: Critical approaches to a superhero and his media. Taylor & Francis.

Pearson, R., Uricchio, W., & Brooker, W. (Eds.). (2017). Many more lives of The Batman. Bloomsbury Publishing.

Picariello, D. K. (Ed.). (2019). Politics in Gotham: the Batman universe and political thought. Springer.

Pustz, M. (Ed.). (2012). Comic books and American cultural history: An anthology. Bloomsbury Publishing USA.

Romagnoli, A. S., & Pagnucci, G. S. (2013). Enter the superheroes: American values, culture, and the canon of superhero literature. Scarecrow Press.

Smith, M. J., & Duncan, R. (Eds.). (2012). Critical approaches to comics: Theories and methods. Routledge.

Smith, M. J., Brown, M., & Duncan, R. (Eds.). (2019). More critical approaches to comics: theories and methods. Routledge.

Weiner, R. G. (Ed.). (2009). Captain America and the struggle of the superhero: Critical essays. McFarland.

Weldon, G. (2017). The caped crusade: Batman and the rise of nerd culture. Simon and Schuster.

White, M. D. (2019). Batman and ethics. John Wiley & Sons.

Worcester, K., Heer, J., & Hatfield, C. (Eds.). (2013). The Superhero Reader. University Press of Mississippi.

articles Authers, B. (2012). What Had Been Many Became One: Continuity, the Common Law, and Crisis on Infinite Earths. Law Text Culture, 16, i.

Austin, S. (2015). Batman's female foes: the gender war in Gotham City. Journal of Popular Culture (Boston), 48(2), 285-295.

Avery, C. (2023). Paternalism, performative masculinity and the post-9/11 cowboy in Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy. The Australasian Journal of Popular Culture, 12(1), 65-81.

Bainbridge, J. (2007). “This is the Authority. This Planet is Under Our Protection”—An Exegesis of Superheroes' Interrogations of Law. Law, Culture and the Humanities, 3(3), 455-476.

Best, M. (2005). Domesticity, homosociality, and male power in superhero comics of the 1950s. Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies, 6(1).

Brienza, C. (2010). Producing comics culture: a sociological approach to the study of comics. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 1(2), 105-119.

Camp, L. D. (2017). ‘Time to ride the monster train’: multiplicity, the Midnighter and the threat to hegemonic superhero masculinity. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 8(5), 464-479.

Camp, L. D. (2018). "Be of Knightly Countenance": Masculine Violence and Managing Affect in Late Medieval Alliterative Poetry and Batman: Under The Red Hood (Doctoral dissertation, University of South Carolina).

Cocca, C. (2014). Negotiating the third wave of feminism in Wonder Woman. PS: Political Science & Politics, 47(1), 98-103.

Coogan, P. (2018). Wonder Woman: superheroine, not superhero. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 9(6), 566-580.

Cohn, N., Hacımusaoğlu, I., & Klomberg, B. (2023). The framing of subjectivity: Point-of-view in a cross-cultural analysis of comics. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 14(3), 336-350.

Costello, M. J., & Worcester, K. (2014). The politics of the superhero: Introduction. PS: Political Science & Politics, 47(1), 85-89.

Crutcher, P. A. (2011). Complexity in the comic and graphic novel medium: Inquiry through bestselling Batman stories. The Journal of Popular Culture, 44(1), 53-72.

Curtis, N. (2013). Superheroes and the contradiction of sovereignty. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 4(2), 209-222.

Fennell, J. (2012). The aesthetics of supervillainy. Law Text Culture, 16, i.

Giddens, T. (2015). Natural law and vengeance: Jurisprudence on the streets of Gotham. International Journal for the Semiotics of Law-Revue internationale de Sémiotique juridique, 28(4), 765-785.

Guynes, S. (2019). Worlds Will Live, Worlds Will Die: Crisis on Infinite Earths and the Anxieties and Calamities of the Comic-Book Event. Inks: The Journal of the Comics Studies Society, 3(2), 171-190.

Hall, K. J., & Lucal, B. (1999). Tapping into parallel universes: Using superhero comic books in sociology courses. Teaching sociology, 27(1), 60-66.

Hatchell, R. (2023). ‘We prefer protégé’: The temporal function of sidekicks in Young Justice and Titans. The Australasian Journal of Popular Culture, 12(1), 83-97.

Jeong, S. H. (2020). Sovereign Agents of Mythical and (Pseudo-) Divine Violence. Walter Benjamin and Global Biopolitical Cinema. The Philosophical Journal of Conflict and Violence, 4(2), 81-98.

Jimenez, P. (2021). Wonder Woman, Feminist Icon? Queer Icon? No, Love Icon. In Wonder Woman (pp. 23-36). Routledge.

Lang, R. (1990). Batman and Robin: A family romance. American imago, 47(3/4), 293-319.

Petrovic, P. (2016). Queer resistance, gender performance, and ‘coming out’of the panel borders in Greg Rucka and JH Williams III’s Batwoman: Elegy. In Superheroes and Identities (pp. 221-230). Routledge.

Philips, M. (2022). Violence in the American imaginary: Gender, race, and the politics of superheroes. American Political Science Review, 116(2), 470-483.

Pitkethly, C. (2016). The pursuit of identity in the face of paradox: indeterminacy, structure and repetition in Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman. In Superheroes and Identities (pp. 87-94). Routledge.

Powell, T. (2023). ‘You’re a refugee, are you not?’‘Extraordinary bodies’, monstrous outsiders and US refugee policies in superhero comics. The Australasian Journal of Popular Culture, 12(1), 9-20.

Romero, L. G., & Dahlman, I. (2012). Justice framed: Law in comics and graphic novels. Law Text Culture, 16, vii.

Schott, G. (2010). From fan appropriation to industry re-appropriation: the sexual identity of comic superheroes. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 1(1), 17-29.

Sereni, E. (2020). "When I'm Bad, I'm Better": from early Villainesses to contemporary antiheroines in superhero comics.

Sharp, C. (2012). 'Riddle me this…? 'would the world need superheroes if the law could actually deliver justice'?. Law Text Culture, 16, 353-378.

Shyminsky, N. (2011). ‘‘Gay’’ Sidekicks: Queer Anxiety and the Narrative Straightening of the Superhero. Men and Masculinities, 14(3), 288-308.

Valentine, G. (2021). Empire of a wicked woman: Catwoman, royalty, and the making of a comics icon. In Wonder Woman (pp. 93-112). Routledge.

Weston, G. (2013). Superheroes and comic-book vigilantes versus real-life vigilantes: an anthropological answer to the Kick-Ass paradox. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 4(2), 223-234.

Whaley, D. E. (2011). Black cat got your tongue?: Catwoman, blackness, and the alchemy of postracialism. Journal of Graphic Novels and Comics, 2(1), 3-23.

Wolf-Meyer, M. J. (2006). Batman and Robin in the nude, or class and its exceptions. Extrapolation (pre-2012), 47(2), 187.

York, C. (2000). All in the Family: Homophobia and Batman Comics in the 1950s. International Journal of Comic Art, 2(2), 100-110.

[yikesattackpenicillin]

The infection started with little to no symptoms, just my good pal Finn having a little interest in this show from the 2000’s called House MD. I thought nothing of it, but little did I know it was about to change the course of time.

It all started when Finn watched this god dammned show, expressed he loved it, I thought that was cool. However, as time went by, Finn started to LOVE the show. Too much. So much. Like he was getting infected from Gregory house’s medical malpractices. House and Wilson would show up in each and every conversation, no matter when, no matter how, I went for days, going through non stop house references, and I hadn’t even watched the show. He had gotten little keychains of house and Wilson and still to this day carry them around wherever he goes, and makes sure they are comfortable and cozy.

It was bareable at first, let’s say, the first month or two. Until it started spreading. House isn’t just a show, it’s an infection. It got to a few of my friends first, they started watching it. Now they are creating edits and art of Wilson. It got to my friends PARENTS, they watched it. Couldn’t get enough. Then, it got to my friends partners. Everyone was watching this show, but I stood strong. I was not going to let myself be taken by this House infection and get hyper fixated on it. Not me.

Even though I hadn’t watched the show, I knew everything about it from Finn’s nonstop references, I believe he was on the last stage of the infection before turning into Wilson himself. (I fear for that moment) but then, it got to my boyfriend. It hit him hard. He’s on season 6 in less than 3 weeks. He was deteriorating quickly, and I was scared for my safety.

However, one day, while my boyfriend was studying, he shared his screen with me and House was playing, end of season 2 to be exact. I said no, but…. The voices in my head said yes… and I watched it. And then another. And then another. I had been infected. I pulled up my laptop and started watching it from the beginning. I’m rapidly becoming more and more sick as this infections spreads as I become more engulfed in House MD.

I withheld this infection for so long but it has bested me. I love the show. If you or a loved one has had contact with Finn, please seek medical attention before the infection gets to you. I wasn’t strong enough to withstand this, but I pray all of you do.

[mikkaeus]

house md fic recs — short fics (<10k). hilson + rarepairs

Other house rec lists: long fics | episode tags | postcanon | infidelity trope (all of these are mutually exclusive apart from the infidelity one)

highly recommend not skipping out on the non-hilson fics!! scroll to the end for a list of some really great ones. No huddy though because I'm not the biggest fan.

house/wilson and gen fic

I decided to just lump the gen fic together with the slash because really most of them can be read as slash with a G rating. Before we get into the fics, here are some notable authors that have written several house fics. Not all their fics are going to be listed individually, but if I have the author there I've read all or a lot of their stuff and enjoyed it, so I recommend going through their backlog.

otter: Some really excellent prose and great atmosphere. A little soft, a little pensive. And they nail the characterisation and dialogue.

ignaz: im sure everyone has read ignaz's longfic (a modest proposal and its sequel — the one where house and wilson get married so wilson cant testify against house in the tritter arc) but absolutely check out all their other stuff — it's all quality.

bironic: I really enjoy the bit of edge in bironic's fics. It makes them so yummy.

bethfrish: What stands out about their fics is how they peer into all the pointy edges of Wilson and Julie's relationship, thus making them excellent and unique Wilson character studies. Great prose and dialogue that rivals the show's.

Transformatron: fics that are transcendent and porny, all featuring a d/s undertone or theme (wilson as the dom)

astolat: if u dont know astolat idk what to say to u. just go read their fics.

blackmare (livejournal / ao3 pseud 1 / ao3 pseud 2 / lj pseud third_owl for slash fics i think) Does really great short fics (mostly gen) that slot into episodes. Like meta but in fic form. All of them are worth a read. Some of their fics are on ao3 but a lot aren't (like nearly all the episodic ones).

Namaste (livejournal / ff.net): Some short fics, some much longer ones. Mostly gen focussing on H&W friendship, with some fics on canon pairings. Interesting character studies and exceptionally discerning prose that is a pleasure to read.

In order of length. *faves, ***underrated faves

***Touch by zulu (<1k) (2007) The number of ways House could embarrass him with touches, Wilson thinks, is practically endless.

Silent Sigh by thedeadparrot (<1k) (2009) Wilson, autumn, melancholy, and House. Second person.

Heartbeats by thedeadparrot (<1k) (2009) Three moments in which House and Wilson are almost kind of functional.

No Pain by bironic (<1k) (2008) House finds a permanent solution to his pain problem and convinces Wilson to give him what he needs. Vampire fic! Frottage! hell yeah.

Also check out the sequel: No Mercy by daasgrrl (3k)

***The Game of Wilson: Six Cards in a Five Card Game by paradisecity (1k) (2006) If you're going to play a game like moving in together, decide upon three things at the start: the rules of the game, the stakes, and the quitting time. Fun and snappy. Great dialogue.

*we're getting good at this by ad astra dean (1k) Wilson had a migraine. Established relationship. Soft and sweet and realistic esp after 8.19. fuck. Premium hurt/comfort.

**********three more stories by besselfcn (1k) The first time it happens is (New Orleans, 1991 | Albany, 2009 | Augusta, 2012) and they are (drunk | sober | out of time). This fic emotionally obliterated me. I’m obsessed with the format like it’s prose halfway to poetry, so creative and unique and well-executed??? I cried so much. I am UNWELL and immeasurably fucked up about them put me in my grave. (Yeah I said these lists were mutually exclusive but this fic is the exception bc idc)

The Awakening of Wils-Ankh-Amun, Royal Concubine by blackmare, Nightdog_barks, pwcorgigirl (1k) It was a rather unusual 'morning after.' This is hilarious. Reads like a classic prank episode. They're so dumb together I love them.

The One Where House Has Always Been a Woman by thedeadparrot (1k) (2009) Despite the hospital gossip, House is not, in fact, a man-hating lesbian. Genderswapped House but not Wilson.

Gray Morning by starlingthefool (1k) All he remembers is that the transition between a stupid joke and the meeting of mouths was almost seamless. Christmas fic that takes place one year after "Merry Little Christmas" (3.10).

Loser Day Blues by blackmare, Nightdog_Barks (1k) February fourteenth is just another day, and another evening in which Wilson winds up at House’s, although — this time — not for the usual reasons.

*indefinable by PaintedVanilla (1k) House can hear Wilson getting ready for bed; he can hear him brushing his teeth, undressing, being unusually quiet. Normally there’s a humming; a breathless energy that House won’t admit to loving about him. He doesn’t hear it tonight. It’s dead silent.

criteria by PaintedVanilla (2k) “I don’t think they know that we’re married.”

***We Live Together in a Photograph of Time by ignaz (2k) Wilson's hair curls when they're fucking. God I'm devastated. The ✨atmosphere✨. This is so in character. And can we talk about the banger title and summary??? I was gnawing my arm before I even opened the fic. Set in s4.

***Things To Do Before You Die by thedeadparrot (2k) In which Wilson turns thirty-eight and a half, thinks about kittens, and doesn't have a midlife crisis. But not necessarily in that order. Prank war with a twist. I’m so fond. Hits all the right cadences with the writing.

So Let Us Melt, and Make No Noise by ignaz (2k) (2007) "You kill patients all the time," House said. "You never stay at work until--" He peered at the clock. "--Four in the morning to make sure they're really dead."

***Curiosity by Namaste (2k) (2006) From Cameron's perspective. Fun character study of her and by extension House and the other two musketeers. Not shippy.

Welcomed Change by JammiesDodger (2k) A cute G-rated getting together fic.

Alone, Together by daasgrrl (2k) Finding new ways to be intimate.

*Keep Your Eyes Wide by deepimpact (2k) There is no specific amount of time passed, no big event, no one thing that Wilson can pin as the catalyst. Obsessed with this. Great atmosphere, excellent prose, and and everything feels authentic and in character. Set pre-season/s1.

***Carrion Eaters by ignaz House, in some indeterminate future or an alternate universe, from the perspective of a new hire. I really loved this story. It's sharp and sad, with great build up.

***Projection by bironic (2k) Remember Ali, that really pretty 17/18 year old clinic patient that was obsessed with House? This fic is Wilson's elaborate fantasy about fucking her, which is of course as much about House as it is her. Post 3.04.

***No Exchange of Payment by otter (2k) The gifts that House gives to Wilson. I adore this. It's about the little things. Otter has exceptional prose and always nails the characterisation, which makes their writing a real pleasure to read.

***All the Effects of Intoxication (3k) by otter This only happens when they're drunk. Just as yummy as that one-line description suggests. I love this a lot — the characterisation and dialogue are excellent and I think this scenario is very realistic for them.

Leave This Harbor for the Sea by otter (3k) House was never the kind of friend who'd help you move, even when he'd had two good legs, not to mention two good arms perfectly capable of lifting boxes. He'd always been the sort of friend who'd stop by while you were packing, make cutting remarks about the failures of your romantic relationships, and use all the half-filled boxes as an excuse to root through your things.

***the growing up, the falling down by riceonrye (3k for the series) Wilson is trying to buy a nice make-up present for his girlfriend, but there’s a guy in the shop with him brazenly shoplifting. Wilson, meet House. This is so good!!! I grinned like an idiot all the way through. It captures the throw-bottles-at-windows side of Wilson so well. A very cute AU of a different first meeting whilst still remaining true to the characters. Don't forget to read the sequel as well.

***never rains (but it pours) by Transformatron (3k) So... remember that episode where House can't pee? I present you some excellently written pisskink pwp. Nails the hilson dynamic, so even if piss isn't your thing, give it a go?

***Blind Spot by blackmare, Nightdog_Barks (3k) Wilson becomes blind after a head injury. genfic.

***Four Blocks South of Eden by bethfrish (3k) If you wanted paradise, you're a little off. I loved the tentative, slightly off-kilter feeling of this. Bang on characterisation, dialogue, and use of 2nd person POV (House). Set in s1 — Wilson's marriage is falling apart, and it leads to a night that could be the start of something new.

***Lie To Me by zulu (4k) It's terribly simple. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after. Exuberant ketamine summer House!!! Equal parts sexy and heartbreaking. Check out the sequel as well (1k).

Stumbling Towards Something Real by ignaz (4k) House and Wilson on holiday in Mexico. (A flagrant excuse for smut, basically.) I'm soft. In character and well-written.

Goes the Neighbourhood by Dee_Laundry (4k) One month into their permanent positions, the new fellows catch a case on the weekend and have to track House down.

***Easy by GoldStarGrl (4k) James Wilson is the easiest person in his dorm. At McGill. In all of eastern Canada, maybe. A fleshed-out version of their first meeting, as well as an insightful character study of Wilson. Slots nicely into canon, whether you believe in the "wilson has cheated on every wife with house" version or the "they fucked when they first met and never talked about it again" version. I really enjoyed this — they’re beautifully in character, and it's excellent writing.

***A Momentary Lapse of Reason by otter (5k) Wilson and Julie through House’s eyes, from the beginning to the end. Skips back and forth between the past and now. The quiet yearning!!! Also *standing on the table with a megaphone* have i mentioned how GORGEOUS otter's prose is??

*Blow the Candles Out by bethfrish (5k) Another year older, another year wiser, another divorce lurking just around the corner. So good!!! Wilson celebrates his birthday amongst the detritus of his marriage. The prose is really exceptional here. House's dialogue is also especially well done. It's a fun read that holds up well on a re-read.

***midnight rain by GoldStarGrl (5k) Wilson can't possibly know the pain. But he wants to. I am vibrating!!! Set precanon, in the aftermath of the infarction. Infidelity, spanking, hello??? Hot, vivid, excellent characterisation, excellent writing etc etc. A+ no notes.

***Through The Looking Glass (The Male Gaze Mashup) by zulu (5k) "If Wilson didn't know, great. What he didn't know couldn’t hurt him. If Wilson did know, it didn't matter, because if he hadn't berated House for it yet, then it was permission to continue." Interesting character study of Wilson and the way House slots into his life. Imaginative and fun descriptions. I did feel slightly lost at some points but it was still a great read. Excerpt: House tears open every envelope, even those addressed to Occupant, then brings back the well-read contents like a cat offering half-dead moles to its hunting-deficient human.

Empathy, Inc. by sassyjumper (5k) Cuddy hires a company that provides 'empathy training' to doctors. House reacts. Set in an earlier season.

***All's Fair In Love (and war) by Transformatron (6k) House and Wilson are enjoying the last day of their holiday when an urgent call comes through from Princeton-Plainsboro - a medical mystery that only House can solve. And he does intend to solve it, despite Wilson's best efforts to distract him. (Established relationship.) Wilson making House do a case whilst fucking him?? I'm an absolute sucker for this trope and I was delighted to find a fic with it.

A Towered Citadel by Namaste (7k) A differential diagnosis for Wilson’s serial cheating.

***And the Borders of Old Cities Get Redrawn by blackmare (7k) Continuation/canon divergence from 8.02 "Transplant". Ch1 is the most perfect episode tag I am vibrating . The way they fall back into their old rhythm!! House seeking out his touch like a cat and Wilson accepting it, even liking it!! The hints of pre-relationship are so delicious. (This is a rare slash fic from blackmare.) Ch2&3 are also absolutely brilliant!! Great characterisation, pacing, and tension-building.

A Voice in Ramah (Welcome to Holland) by ignaz (8k) Cuddy POV on her pregnancy journey. Diverges from the show. Really well done. ignaz did this topic and Cuddy's character justice. I also particularly liked House in this one.

Singapore by thedeadparrot (8k) (2009) In which the boys go to a medical conference in Singapore, House has a few surprises up his sleeve, and Wilson figures some things out.

*A Helping Hand by bironic (9k) Wilson has an unusually rough day and House decides (somewhat despite himself) to help. Things go further than he planned. A believable foray into non-platonic territory, set in between 2.22 (Forever) and 2.24 (No Reason). What better way to take your mind off your patients than a good-ol handjob between friends? Chuck in an absolutely delicious fucked-up overtone characteristic of them and we're golden.

Rarepairs

Chase/House

***pretty doctor by spqr (5k) AU where Chase is a hooker. House becomes obsessed with him after he off-handedly gives the correct differential diagnosis. spqr is an excellent writer that I've followed across multiple fandoms, and this fic did not disappoint. Well-written, great chemistry, hilarious. I could read 100k of this.

***atonement in the locker room after hours by missaa (2k) robert chase makes two mistakes in one day Tags: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, degradation, God Complex, Catholic Guilt This is just as yummy as those tags make it sound. Someone needed to capitalise on the whole *waves hand vaguely* thing that Chase has going on and by god did this person rise to the occasion. Love the characterisation and the elegant prose, and the structure that flashes back and forth between two scenes. I'm insane!

Chase/Foreman Shoutout to ignaz who sold me on this pairing.

*Pretty Harsh (Confirmatory Testing Remix) by everybodylies (2k) Foreman might have flirted with Chase six months ago for like thirty seconds. Chase can't stop thinking about it.

***Two For The Road by ignaz (3k) For the first ever Foreman Fest, prompt 107 -- "after a break and enter gone wrong, Foreman and Chase are both sentenced to 300 hours of community service, which it looks like they're gonna spend picking up trash on the side of the road." Really solid writing (I mean it’s ignaz), believable characterisation and relationship building. I love them 💓💓💓 just overall a real pleasure to read. Also it's hilarious.

***Eric Foreman Doesn't Take It Up The Ass (But If He Did, It Might Happen Something Like This) by ignaz (6k)

Self-Defense, or The One Where Foreman Teaches Chase How to Throw a Punch by ignaz (1k)

Cameron/Foreman/Chase

Third Wheel Rolling by ignaz He's not jealous, but he's been the third wheel for so long that it's hard to tell the difference. Sexy + great characterisations.

Cuddy/Stacy

***Your Reflection and Mine by Starlingthefool (3k) Sweet, hot, well written.

Amber/Thirteen

***Hate (to the power of 13) by ijemanja (2k) (lj) Porny, with snappy writing and believable characterisations.

Hen Night by zulu (<1k) This is how breakups go. Amber's seen movies.

Release by zulu (1k) Wilson dies on the bus instead of Amber.

Chase/Wilson

Erase by bethfrish (<1k) Featuring a bar and crossdressing. Precanon. Second person, Wilson POV.

Patrick Bateman/Wilson

Just Like You, Only Worse by bethfrish (1k) Ok before you raise your eyebrows at the pairing, give it a chance. Bethfrish is an excellent writer. This fic is really a Wilson character study, and it's an interesting read. Second person POV Wilson, set in s1.