#I need to get Wilson to rewrite hers.. but for now it works

[t0m-1nn1t]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓵𝓼

Meet Burlin, the local terrorist around here. He's kind of a menace? In that old man way. He has some issues with speaking since revival, and will every now and then replace words that he'd intended, with random words.

He's 6'4, and awfully lanky. He breaks bones pretty easily, but that just means he's gotten good at continuing to push through despite the pain

There won't be a listed age, just recognize that he's a middle aged man. Probably got a receding hairline. Yk, the whole shabang.

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓻 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼

Ayup! I'm Tom (most call me Big T, mhm) and as of lore recently written I work for Big Q in his wonderful country of Las Nevadas. [:

I work part time as a security guard for the theatre, and I spend my Thursday evenings up there for comedy! Do feel free to stop by. It's only $7 entry.

I'm 5'10, and I'd like to think I stay pretty dapper in my basic white tee with khaki shorts.

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓱 𝓲𝓷 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓮

Overall this account has been updated to include one of our head mates, Wilson. She's really fucking cool and I definitely look up to her. (But they're old so watch out he may hit you with their cane...)

He'll be writing Burlin (C!Wilbur) and can write just about any arc of him. Though she specializes in revivebur.

In case y'all are new around here though, I'm Tom and I'm the main author of this account! I write C!Tommy (and I'm literally ctommy woa)

We're bodily 18, so if that makes you uncomfortable don't interact <3

_____

If you wish to speak with us privately, feel free to message us through discord: writingwithaquill is the username.

[repressionmd]

a selection of housefics i love!

i will make a part 2 when i reach character limit :D currently there is just 11 fics here but i WILL be updating!

Playtime's Over or The One Where Cuddy Forces House to See a Child Psychologist - mskullgirl

author summary: Following the events of "Skin Deep" (season 2, episode 13) House spirals out of control and stops eating and sleeping. Cuddy eventually offers him a deal; five sessions with Dr. Addams, the hospital's resident child psychologist, in exchange for three months off of clinic duty. What could go wrong? word count: 48k my notes: SO GOOD!! such a fun analysis of house and it has potentially my favourite accidental child acquisition of all time

Everything He Wants - the_northwind

author summary: House discovers that Wilson is a better coping mechanism than Vicodin. There's no way this could go wrong. A rewrite of the season six finale and beyond where instead of Cuddy, Wilson goes to House's apartment after the crane collapse. word count: 11k my notes: has one of my favourite hilson fic argument scenes. they're dysfunctional and messy and SO in character i couldn't recommend enough

Hypothesis - IreneSpring

author summary: At the beginning of the month, James Wilson decides to break out of his depressive spiral by having an affair with the first woman who is not needy. By the end of the month, he is facing an existential crisis decades in the making. word count: 15k my notes: haha wilson you are gay (jokes aside this fic is actually so fun and silly and made me LAUGH at the hoops our wilson jumps through to eventually realise he didn't get anywhere anyway)

Under My Skin - rhythmofsnow

author summary: Thirteen has a meltdown. House is there to ground her through it. (Post 5x05 "Lucky Thirteen") word count: 1.4k my notes: caring house my beloved... autistic solidarity my even more beloved <3

Composed - ferretwhomst

author summary: compose verb /kəmˈpəʊz/ 1. calm or settle (oneself or one's features or thoughts). 2. write or create (a work of art, especially music or poetry). or: a sick, restless Wilson finds himself in need of House’s company late at night. House indulges him. word count: 2.2k my notes: SO BEAUTIFUL.... wilson is so gay and so melodramatic and house matches his freak so well and WRITES HIM A PIANO PIECE....... they're so soft with each other idk its just beautiful. please read this

Soothe me now, soothe me, old friend (eng) - culturenana

author summary: Wilson would love to – Wilson would like to do so many things, make the most of countless wasted opportunities, erase every mistake, since his time has shortened without any warning, cruelly consuming itself under every cough. / House holds him close as if he is about to slip from his arms, and neither of them has the courage to discern what this thing between them is. There is no excuse or rational diagnosis that could cover it up. word count: 7.2k my notes: oh my god this fic made me want to bawl its so beautifully written and i have been shying away from post-finale fics purely to save myself the heartbreak but im SO glad i didn't do that with this one. they mean everything to me ;-;

'Samson's Mistress Cut His Hair, Thus Removing His Strength' - Sparklesinthewater

author summary: Set in season 3. Stacy doesn't come back. Tritter doesn't interfere. But the drugs and the infarction keep getting House into trouble anyway. Wilson is trying his best (but his best may not be what's best for House). / Or, House gets himself a girlfriend. Life goes downhill from there. word count: a beautiful 129k my notes: hello? hello!!!! can anyone hear me!! fic of all time!!!! a novel in its own right, and i did in fact stay up till 3.30am finishing it. impossible to put down and did make me want to cry in places. absolutely stunning. would recommend to everyone

a thousand teeth (and yours among them) - itooaminthisepisode (anarchy_opossum)

author summary: Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back. word count: 10k my notes: GORGEOUS STUFF!! amazing characterisation with lovely internal voices <3 they're so them and it makes me so happy

i let you win, i love to lose - sesamie

author summary: a short thing inspired by the thought, "what if amber and wilson's sex tape was ***for house***?" it seems like exactly the kind of toxic manipulative thing amber would pull and bring wilson along for. so here it is! set after the finale of season 4, and wilson and house haven't spoken about everything yet. things are bad between them and that's where the angst in this comes from! word count: 4.6k my notes: this fic did irreparable things to my psyche i mean ACTUALLY i do find myself thinking about it as im going about my day. genuinely was blown away by the sheer power of the prose i'll be honest 😭

we peeled the freckles from our shoulders - flowersinapril

author summary: Greg is twenty-three and James is nineteen when they first meet as counsellors at a sleepaway camp in the Adirondacks. word count: 2.1k my notes: GOD THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL... AAAHHHHHH i dont even have any words. please read this. crops watered joy delivered will to live restored etc. oh my god.

I'd Make a Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) - TheFandomLesbian

author summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. / In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband. word count: 11.3k my notes: HOLY FUCK.. obsessed and i mean Obsessed with love as religious Especially when it comes to gregory 'religion is meaningless' house like this was so... good. it was so good. house is so desperate and so in love and its the most delicious thing ever

[johnwgrey]

hello all!

I would say long time, no see except I actually posted yesterday. Long time, no share, however. I don't feel like writing today but I *have* written since... march? I think? Quite a lot. And I feel like sharing something. I'm working on what I like to call "the first kiss chapter" at the moment. Very exciting stuff!! I know I said I wanted to wait to tell you what this WIP is but actually, I think I'm ready because I'm so ridiculously invested at this point, I don't know how I could possibly give it up.

So, for those who remember, this WIP is a rewriting of my Jane Eyre AU, Reader I married him (that I last updated in april 2022) I used to say I would not give up on RIMH and then, I went and did just that 😂 but I've started all over again and I think it's for the best. I've been rethinking the whole outline (and actually writing an outline this time) so the two stories won't have much in common other than the fact that it's inspired by Jane Eyre, that Baz is Mr Rochester, Simon is Jane, Mordelia is Adèle and Vera is Mrs Fairfax. I will probably share more details about it in the future.

I'm very excited to share it with you all when it's done!! In the meantime, I have two (2) snippets for you.

This post is getting a bit long so I'll put it all under the cut but I just want to say quickly that as I'm not posting regularly, I'm only tagging people who tag me because I'm not sure who's interested in hearing about this WIP, but if you are interested, let me know and I'll tag you next time.

In this first one, Baz has invited some guests and they're arriving. Mordelia watches them with excitement. Simon is more curious than excited. He's busy watching Baz and the woman everybody says he's going to propose to. And then...

A low gasp pulled him from his thoughts. Soft as a caress, it was, and sharp as a knife. Mordelia flinched. “Is everything all right, Delia?” “It’s Lady Petty,” she said. Faintly, faintly as if she was afraid she might be heard. “Who?”

He turned his gaze to the next guest but the woman was gone quickly. She walked fast, the silver end of her walking stick tolling with each intent step, caring little for who or what was on her way; if they did not move, she would trample them. Simon knew it instinctively, because his uncle had had the same gait. Because Mr Wilson had had the same look of scorn and superiority on his face. Simon would’ve flinched, too, because he had suffered cruelty at the hand of another human being.  Mordelia had not.  Young, beloved and living a recluse life, she was growing up dauntless. Fear and danger were complete strangers to her. Yet, she had flinched.  Which could only mean that she did not know her by sight alone. Some time, some place, she had met this woman before. 

Curiosity piqued, he pressed, “who’s she?” “Baz’s auntie,” Mordelia breathed as she watched the stone walls of Pitch Manor swallow the dark-haired stranger with unblinking eyes.

This second snippet is a shorter one from the chapter I'm working on. It's still a first draft but I like it! It's only a description of Baz; no context needed 😂

At her side, Mr Pitch stood. He wore no jacket in spite of the chilliness of night. Instead, an embroidered vest - black, bright green vines and deep purple blackberries creeping up his torso - over a white shirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves, showing the veins on his arms and sinewy muscles. Indecent, really. He wore his hair loose as well, curls escaping from his widow’s peak, falling in front of his face. Over his grey eyes. Hard and cold, they were, in the flickering light of the bonfires he’d explicitly forbidden, and home to Simon’s broken soul.

thank you for the tags as ever @ileadacharmedlife (I hope you're finding a little time and inspiration to work on your WIP!) and @ic3que3n 😘 today, I'm also tagging @you-remind-me-of-the-babe because now I can tell you how pleased and surprised I was that you so promptly offered to beta the same story you betad for me last time! Feels like fate haha

[themculibrary]

Protective Sam Wilson Masterlist

can't fail if you don't try (ao3) - phaetonschariot sam/bucky M, 35k

Summary: A courtesy visit to a crime scene reconnects Bucky with an old colleague who leaves him with a responsibility neither he or Sam are sure they're up to. But with few other options in a world that's had its already weak social safety nets slashed to pieces by the doubling population, they set out to create a refuge - and maybe even a home - even as betrayal lurks in the wings.

Forever (Couldn't Be Enough) (ao3) - SailorChibi bucky/tony T, 47k

Summary: Tony passes out in Siberia in April of 2018, and wakes up four years later in 2022. Amnesia. Of all the things, Iron Man has amnesia.

And what's this about a wedding ring?

Free Bucky! (ao3) - NeverEndingPasta sam/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Bucky has been wrongfully imprisoned on the Raft. Sam will stop at nothing until Bucky’s free.

Held Up (ao3) - Emily_F6 T, 2k

Summary: May Parker would do anything to protect her child. And Peter is doing his best to cope with the consequences of that.

I'll Take Your Nightmares Away (ao3) - inthesorrows sam/bucky G, 1k

Summary: Of course Bucky’s safe, as long as he’s with Sam he’ll always be safe. But how do you tell that to someone so used to getting hurt and tortured that they’ll do anything to protect themself?

i need to be youthfully felt ('cause god i never felt young) (ao3) - shadoweddepths sam/bucky E, 20k

Summary: Abruptly, Sam wonders how many people have put a friendly hand on Bucky in the last ninety-odd years. How many times did touch like this mean pain and suffering, instead of someone trying to take care of him? And it makes his heart ache, the thought of how much devastation and roughness Bucky’s been through, denied this kind of casual, compassionate touch that Sam doesn’t even think twice about offering.

Experimentally, he pulls his hand back. Bucky makes this low whining noise that makes Sam put his hand back immediately. And then he watches the way Bucky leans into it, eyelids fluttering like he’s almost falling asleep like this. Doesn’t even seem conscious of it, like he’s gone somewhere else in his head while Sam’s patching him up. And it’s – Sam doesn’t know what to think, doesn’t know what to feel. Because this is Bucky, and he’s showing such terrifying vulnerability, and Sam –

Sam can’t help but wonder if Bucky still expects pain every time someone touches him.

(Five times Sam realizes Bucky is touch-starved, and the one time he really does something about it.)

Late to the Party (ao3) - rebelmeg bucky/sarah G, 464

Summary: Sam and Bucky are late to the family party, but they come bringing dessert! Flirting and family silliness ensues.

Lethal (ao3) - Emily_F6 T, 2k

Summary: The kid insisted that the bullet just grazed him. But that was all it took.

Lost and Found (ao3) - OneBuckyBitch sam/bucky N/R, 2k

Summary: Sam Wilson doesn't like it when he can't get hold of Bucky Barnes. It scares him.

The Blessings of Cursed Love (ao3) - SilverRowan_Ivy630951 steve/bucky M, 5k

Summary: Steve gets cursed by a villain, put into a coma until his love can wake him up. Sam succeeds in a last-ditch effort…sort of. But it’s not the right kind of love. So now he’s got a friend whose mind is trapped, who loves a man that’s still on the run from him. If Bucky can’t love Steve back, then Steve is doomed to be trapped like this forever. And if Bucky can…then Sam has to watch his best friend get the one thing Sam can never have.

The Falcon & The Winter Solider + Spider-Man (ao3) - F_my_entire_life sam/bucky N/R, 20k

Summary: “Coulda used that shield,”

“Get off me.”

“It’s cute when couples roll in fields together.”

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Rewriting of The Falcon And The Winter Soldier with Peter Parker in it.

The Sky is Cryin’, Mama’s Callin’ (ao3) - Green_mmnm sam/bucky N/R, 4k

Summary: 5 times the universe hates Sam and Bucky and the one time everything works in their favor

Time Flies When You're Bleeding Out (ao3) - NeverEndingPasta sam/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Out on their mission in essentially the middle of nowhere, Bucky suffers a gunshot wound to the gut. Now, Sam has to find a way to keep him awake and alert until help arrives. If help arrives. Geez, what was taking those guys so long anyway?

What Comes With It (ao3) - RealBlackWidow bucky/sarah M, 4k

Summary: Sam knew it was going to be a tall order filling the shoes of Steve Rogers. All that came with the shield, but he was not prepared for having a super soldier with no self preservation. So maybe Sam was posed at him…he better not die so he can yell at him

or Bucky gets nearly crushed to death and Sam realizes maybe he cares about Bucky and maybe they were friends after all

within the downtime, there is still a team (ao3) - 14Muffinz T, 2k

Summary: Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes vs. Peter Parker, who's lived in isolation for almost an entire year and does not plan on explaining why.

[prosperdemeter2]

I never knew just how much I needed perspective flips from the rewrite series until I just read them lol. These characters are so…perfectly messy and human the way you write them and I absolutely love it. Just like Maddie alone. The way I wanted to just go uggg in the her pov for the Eddie asking about Daniel moment. But then wanted to high five and cheer for her in the other one where she told Bobby not to dare try and mess up buddies relationships after the bombing. Brilliant.

Anywho, while I can’t stand her in it, Can I ask for a perspective flip for Shannon in chapter 2 of collision please? 🥹

Gosh! This was a complicated one lmao. Let it be known that, for the canon of the series, I will probably never be going into Shannon’s POV again 😅 (not that I'm frustrated or anything about it. She was just TOUGH to write).

As for your words up top: omg pls you're so sweet 😭 I try so hard to write characters that are flawed but so deserving of love - I hope as the story goes on you gain some sympathy for a Maddie that's learning and trying to be better now.

collision chapter two

Eddie’s house was… quaint. It wasn’t what Shannon would have chosen for their family, if he had ever bothered to ask her, but it was what he had chosen. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, Eddie had always been fond of the smaller things in life. He didn’t enjoy extravagant, he had fought her tooth and nail over getting a new car when they were still together, citing medical bills and a future fund that he’d rather be putting his pension into. He had to have been making enough in his career as a public servant (and with his retirement from the Army), so Shannon didn’t really understand why he was still living in his small, two bedroom, one story house. But it wasn’t her concern how Eddie spent his money anymore. 

At least, not when it came to this. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Harvey kissed her cheek like he always did, like she was a work of art, and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She preened - Eddie had never touched her like that, he had never spoiled her the way Harvey did, with pride and reverence. Harvey was better, everyone in her life told her that (Shannon had known that when they had first slept together - Harvey was perfect, safe… dispassionate.). 

Shannon hated Eddie’s little house. 

It was too clean, too lived in, too decorated. He had a calendar on the refrigerator that didn’t have his handwriting on it, stuffed behind Christopher’s messy color pencil drawings and report card boasting all A’s. He had a list of emergency phone numbers taped on the counter next to a landline and Shannon’s name wasn’t even on it - the list went: Buck, Carla, Bisabuela, Tia Pepa, Maddie, Captain Nash, Athena Grant, Karen Wilson, Tia Adriana. The list was obviously for Christopher, just like the shower chair and the rails in the bathroom she had spotted earlier. It was a good thing he already had those in place, Shannon had noted with a derisive snort, considering his boyfriend needed them just as much lately (if the way he was slowly moving the night before said anything). 

Shannon glanced over her shoulder and towards the locked door at the end of it - Christopher was still in the bathroom, he had paused briefly outside of the door that clearly belonged to his father’s bedroom but Shannon had waved him along. I’ll make breakfast, she had said with a smile. 

Christopher always liked waffles. She was sure Eddie had the ingredients to toss those together, although she didn’t see a waffle maker anywhere. Maybe she should interrupt the two of them, like she had thought of doing the night before just for the laugh of it all (imagine, Shannon scoffed. Helena would have had Eddie’s head, and Shannon’s, if she had ever caught them doing what Shannon had caught him doing the night before.). She could imagine it, really. She didn’t know what they were doing behind that door, really, except she knew, from her own wealth of experience, just how good at bedroom activities Eddie was. They’d probably be lost in each other, like Shannon had noticed they so often were. Her knocking on the door, sharp and loud, would have them springing apart. If she laughed loud enough, she could picture the perfect bright red Eddie’s cheeks would turn - it used to mean that they would be having a very entertaining romp in the sheets themselves, but Shannon had long ago grown to enjoy the lead up to the main event just as much. Eddie was easy to rile up, fun to do too, and ever since he had served her those divorce papers? Shannon thought he deserved a bit of embarrassment every now and then. “Can I have cereal?” Christopher interrupted her thoughts with a blink of innocence. 

Shannon flinched. “I’m going to make waffles.” 

Christopher frowned. “Okay,” he shrugged. “Can I have cereal still?” 

“Your mother,” Harvey intervened when Shannon merely bristled in her spot. “Is going to make waffles.” 

“I don’t want waffles.” Christopher argued petulantly. He had always done that - it had driven Shannon insane when he was little. Clearly, Eddie had picked up where his parents had left off when it came to catering to Christopher’s every want and need. “Dad says I can have cereal so long as I have fruit too.” 

“Well, dad’s not up.” Shannon said in a forced light tone. Dad said, dad said, dad said. It was all she had heard the day before until they had gotten back home and then Christopher had sat himself next to Buck on the floor all night until it was time for bed. Shannon had offered him the side of the couch closest to her, Christopher had always been a cuddler and Shannon had, genuinely, missed having his small body pressed tightly against hers. Christopher had declined, though, but she hadn’t missed the way he had cuddled up next to Buck’s side instead. Perhaps she should have offered him her seat, the man had just gotten out of his full leg cast not too long ago, but there had been a bit of vindictive joy in watching him wince as he straightened out his leg to rest on the rug. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She winked over her shoulder at Christopher’s little, tired face, and turned back to the cabinets with a frown. 

“Dad -.” It was like Christopher had summoned him. 

The door opened and shut on the other end of the hallway and Shannon… she had always been attuned to Eddie. She knew the cadence of his footsteps, the way he breathed, the way he would first look for Christopher and then look for her. Only it took longer than Shannon remembered it ever taking for Eddie to look in her direction - the door clicked shut behind him and his hair was a mess (and he had a small bruise, sucked into the skin of his collarbone that Shannon couldn’t help staring at when his shirt slipped down enough for her to see it. It wasn’t jealousy so much as rage. Eddie had belonged to her for the longest time, she had been the only person he had ever slept with, his first and only for so long. Any mark he had on his skin used to be because she put it there. And now she was competing. With a man who made Eddie laugh and, and… she was mostly ambivalent towards Eddie’s boyfriend, except that she wasn’t. She couldn’t help but think of how different things would have been if he hadn’t been around, if she hadn’t waited so long. Eddie’s face would have flashed with that anger again at something she said and it would have ended the way it always did, Shannon’s nails leaving a trail down his back and her mouth sucking a bruise into his skin). “Morning, Eddie.” Harvey greeted kindly. 

Shannon shook herself. She was happy, she was going to marry the most wonderful man, she had her son back (on Eddie’s terms, though. Shannon didn’t have Christopher so much as have time with him). “Morning.” Eddie waved, though, cordial and polite as always. Shannon could remember the way he used to touch her, soft hands on her hips as he walked by. He used to wrap himself around her, duck his nose into her shoulder and hold on while he woke up. 

He bypassed her completely and instead lingered over Christopher, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and breathing in against his curls. 

What happened to the man she had married, she wondered. Where had she lost him? “Buenos días, bud.” Shannon gripped his cabinet handle tighter. 

She had always been jealous of the relationship Eddie had with Christopher. It was always so easy, so second nature with the two of them. Shannon had to work every second of every day to be a mother, to remember what it was she was supposed to be doing to keep Christopher happy and healthy and Eddie… Eddie just knew how to do it. And it didn’t make any sense to her, really! Eddie hadn’t had parents the way Shannon had - Ramon had been gone most of his childhood and Helena had thrust him into the role of man of the house much too early. He had always been good at it, though. Surprisingly tender even when Shannon had wanted him at his hardest. It only got worse one Christopher was born - Eddie was careful not to yell, he had cried the first time he had held him, Shannon had caught him singing Christopher to sleep, once, when he was on leave. He loved being a father and Christopher, obviously, adored having him as one. 

Christopher tipped his head back to rest it on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him like he always had - like Eddie was the hero in every story he ever made up. He beamed and leaned up, pressing his own kiss to the corner of Eddie’s scratchy, unshaven jaw (Shannon had always hated it when he looked like this. Unshaven, just rolled out of bed, face unwashed and hair still a mess. She preferred Eddie put together.). “Buenos días, dad!” 

That was another thing. Shannon hated the whole… Spanish thing. It was like they were trying to shove her out. When they were in Texas, Eddie and sisters would go on a whole rant in Spanish back and forth and Shannon would be left just trying to pick up on context clues. Helena had tried to translate what she could, and Sophia had always explained it after the matter. You could try to learn, Adriana had said with her nose in the air like always. Eddie had apologized, though, when Shannon had pointed out feeling left out of family conversations. 

Clearly, though, he was still insisting on teaching Christopher the language. She wondered if it bothered Eddie’s new partner too, or if Buck was perfect with that too. Shannon rolled her eyes at the thought, the man probably spoke Spanish himself. It was like Eddie had created him in a lab - young, tall, handsome, strong, stupid and yet, somehow, smart. She had noticed Eddie staring at certain kinds of men over the years, Buck certainly fit Eddie’s preference better than Shannon ever could. Eddie hugged Christopher from behind, smiled at him in a way that made a portion of her anger with him disappear, and rested his chin on Christopher’s bony shoulder. “¿Cómo era antes de que empezara a llover?” 

She scowled again. 

Of course. 

Eddie clearly wanted to ask Christopher something that she wouldn’t understand in order to keep their secrets. It was like he was plotting against her - Christopher fought her at every corner, he didn’t seem all that interested in doing anything but argue with Harvey, and if she had to hear one more time about just how great Eddie’s boyfriend was she was going to wring her own neck. “It was okay. We didn’t get smores, though.” Christopher explained. 

Eddie frowned and clocked Christopher’s disappointment immediately. “We can make some with bisabuela?” 

“In the backyard?” 

“Or we can make them in the oven here.” Christopher smiled excitedly and hummed, his little body shaking with excitement. 

Shannon closed the cabinet a little too hard and opened the next one - full of plates and ceramic bowls that were all mismatched and clearly second hand (but a good brand of second hand, she noted. The kind that could be microwaved and put in the oven if needed without even chipping the paint. Eddie’s family didn’t use those.). “Shannon,” Eddie called to her with that edge to her voice that told her that he was starting to get frustrated with her. She frowned at it - frustrated at her? She hadn’t even done anything yet but try and feed their child. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Shannon almost laughed. “You can’t cook.” She smirked over her shoulder at him. 

The last time Eddie had tried to cook he had managed to undercook chicken after leaving it in the oven for half an hour. Eddie rolled his eyes at her and something like a sharp satisfaction spiked in her belly. He was annoyed, good. “Dad makes eggs!” Christopher defended with a strong frown. “And… and crepes with bisabuela.” 

Bisabuela. Isabel Diaz had always been Eddie’s biggest enabler. She called him pet names and kissed his cheeks and pulled him into tight, long hugs. Isabel had told Shannon, very seriously, that Eddie was special. That he had a special heart that deserved to be taken care of. That he was soft, and that softness was his strength. Shannon had always been… uneasy around the woman. It was like she could see right through her and was just waiting for Shannon to make a mistake. “You can always have cereal.” Eddie said dryly, standing up and nudging her out of the way and towards the table. 

Her skin burned where his arm had touched hers. It had been… a long time since Eddie had touched her and things between them had always felt like a raging fire. It was an addictive feeling, even if Harvey’s hand on her wrist felt calm and cooling. “I thought you would have bought more.” Because his cabinets had been nearly empty, his refrigerator had been full of health food and pineapple juice, his freezer with meats and meatless substitutions. 

“It’s not like we expected company.” Eddie countered and grabbed the eggs out of the refrigerator, scowling at the milk like they had personally insulted him. 

Shannon could feel it, the fire growing between them, threatening to come to a head. She wondered how it would blow up, now that the bedroom wasn’t an option for them. “Harvey doesn’t like eggs.” She stuck her chin in the air and said. 

“Then he can have cereal.” Dismissive. 

Shannon bristled in frustration. Eddie had gotten so boring over the years. He had stopped arguing with her a week before she had left, but when she had shown back up he had shown her that he still had that passion inside of him. 

She wanted to taste it again. All of him was hers, he had vowed that a long time ago. It didn’t matter what a piece of paper said, anymore. He had belonged to her since they were twelve. He could have his fun, but he’d be back. He would always come back. “He -.” Harvey’s hand covered over Shannon’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Shannon.” He said with a bright, cordial smile. “I don’t mind cereal.” 

Shannon’s building excitement faded when Eddie turned back around, his face carefully expressionless.  “Cereal’s on the fridge.” He said with a nod and turned towards the oven. 

Something in her stirred. Anger, annoyance, arousal. 

Eddie was always so much more fun when he decided to play petty. 

Shannon carefully sat down beside Harvey with a small smirk. Oh, if he wanted to play, they could play. 

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Confrontation

Summary: You and Bucky have been together for some time now, so hearing he got himself arrested (again) makes you panic, to say the least

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Other characters: Sam Wilson, Christina Raynor. John Walker

Warnings: nothing really... maybe face touching? A bit of fluff towards the end

A/n: Just a quick rewrite of a scene from 1x02 of TFATWS with the reader. I kept most of the dialogues from the episode so there will be ¡¡¡SPOILERS!!! Anyway, hope you enjoy!💗

You entered the police station with your breath heavy for the run. You stood there, in front of the door, many people walking past you and bumping in your shoulders as you weren't there, but you didn't care. Scanning the room you finally noticed a familiar face a few rows from you, looking at his phone.

"Sam!"

Hearing your voice, Sam shot up from his seat, a second before you threw your arms around him. "Y/n, what are you doing here?”. He rubbed your back. “I told you there was nothing to worry about"

You let him go, glaring at him. "My boyfriend has just been arrested and you call this nothing to worry about?"

"Someone has already assured his release, you really need to calm down". A playful smirk appeared on his face. “You didn't even have the time to miss him"

A brief smile tugged on your lips before your worry showed on your face again. With a huff, you crossed your arms on your chest, glancing at the door you imagined led to the jail. "Do you think he's okay?"

"I'm sure he's seen much worse than this...”. Sam gave you a reassuring smile. “He'll be fine"

"Sam". You both turned to a woman with dark hair and a serious look on her face. "I've heard a lot about you”. She held his hand towards him and Sam shook it. “I'm Dr. Raynor. I’m James' therapist"

"So nice to meet you"

She then moved her gaze towards you. "You must be Y/n, right?". You nodded, shaking the hand she now offered you. Her grip was much firmer than what you expected. "James told me a lot about you as well. I hope everything's good between you two"

"It is” you smiled at her. “It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for everything you’ve done so far with him during your sessions"

"And thank you for getting him out"

At Sam’s words, she took a deep breath in before clicking her tongue and stirring her mouth in a thin smile. "That was not me"

You frowned. "Then who-"

"Christina!"

You stopped mid-sentence, turning towards the door, where the noises of flashes filled the air of the room. A blonde man dressed in red and blue, colours that a few weeks ago still meant something to you, stood there, taking selfies and shaking hands.

Sam asked something to Bucky's therapist and she answered, but their moving lips were silent to you. All you could hear were those fucking flashes and your blood roaring in your ears; an unknown and thunderous rage, that kept building up inside you more and more with every step John Walker took in your direction.

"I heard you were working with Bucky,” - you tried not to twitch when that stranger called him like that - “so I thought I'd step in" he said, plastering on his lips the most punchable smile you'd ever seen. "Bucky's not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer"

What?

"We haven't finished our work" Christina said, shaking slightly her head. "Who authorized this?"

“Yeah, who the hell was it?”

“Um...” Jack stopped his gaze a moment on you, before a smug grin appeared on his mouth and he pointed towards himself with a pleased look on his face.

“Oh, so you’re the genius behind this brilliant idea” you snapped, your voice dripping in sarcasm, before your brain had the decency to stop you.

John finally gave you all his attention, a hint of annoyance in his perfect Captain America’s facade. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you”

“Well, for that matter, I don’t think I know you”

John chuckled but stopped immediately when he realized you weren’t joking. “I’m John Walker, the new Captain America. I thought you had noticed. I mean, it’s not like the shield blends in with the crowd...”

You nodded, unimpressed. “And?”

He snorted, an amused look on his face. “And? What more do you need to know?”

“Do you really think a name, a shield and a suit could help me understand who you are?”. You took a step closer to him, your fire gaze locking in his. “You’re no one to me, John Walker, and you’re definitely no one when it comes to decide what is better for someone whose mental health has been threatened many and many times in the last decades, and who still struggles with it”

“He went on a mission literally yesterday...”

“That doesn’t mean he’s completely recovered! Just because someone looks fine to you, it doesn’t mean he’s not going through his personal hell!”

John sighed, rubbing a hand on his neck. “Look... maybe as a citizen you don’t understand how valuable of an asset Bucky is but-”

“He’s not an asset.” You spit out that word as it was acid on your tongue. “He’s a human being! You can’t just use him when and how you want, because if you do, you’re no different from Hydra”

As you mentioned it, John’s clear blue eyes darkened as a stormy sea. “I just want him to be useful, and he can’t be if he’s tied up”

You squinted your eyes, sliding your hands in your pockets. “Useful to whom, if I may ask? To the world or to you and the corrupted government you work for?”

“Y/n” Sam gripped your arm, not enough to hurt but enough to ground you. “You can’t just say things like this”

“It’s the truth, Sam, and you know it”

“Even if I did, this is neither the time nor the place to make a scene” he whispered, his tone gentle but decisive. His eyes shot to the people surrounding you, all holding their phones up, recording what was happening.

With a grunt, you shrugged off his hand from your arm but remained silent, to the delight of John, who had already plastered his Captain America’s smile on his face again.

“Just do whatever you got to do with him, Christina, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I. You too, Wilson. I’ll be outside.”

He turned to leave but then changed his mind and fixed his eyes on you. “It was a pleasure, Y/n”. You tensed at hearing your name escaping from his mouth. It felt... wrong. Almost as a threat. “Even if you don’t like me, believe me when I tell you I’m not the villain here”

“Perhaps... but you’re not the hero either”

John shook his head, a grin on his face, as he walked out the police station, taking with him all the rage you felt inside.

“I must say: that was pretty hot”

When you heard his voice, your heart skipped a beat. You turned towards Bucky, leaning against the reception desk. "But do you think it was smart to push like that one of the most powerful man in the-"

Before he could finish you were in his arms, pressing your nose against his neck and gripping him as tight as you could, afraid to let go. Afraid he could disappear.

“Hey, I’m okay” he whispered, his low voice flowing like water in your ears. “I’m okay...”

“I was so scared for you...” you muttered against his neck, taking in the slight scent of shaving cream.

“I know, I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be”. You cupped his face in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “It wasn’t your fault”

"Well, I did miss my session so it kinda was my fault..."

"Whatever" you rolled your eyes with a smile. You placed a kiss on his forehead. "All that matters is that you're okay"

"I am because you're here". Bucky covered your hand with his gloved one. "Thank you for sticking with me all this time"

"Thank you for letting me"

He smiled, a loving look crossing his eyes, before closing the gap between you two. You grinned in the kiss as he lifted you up. His lips never felt so soft.

Taglist: @hellotvshowtrash @elijahs-wife @elijahswife @mikaelson-emma @imaginearyparties (if you don't want to be tagged, let me know💓)

[americasass81]

!!WARNING:- 18+ ADULT CONTENT. BY CLICKING ANY TITLE BELOW YOU ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE OVER 18 AND CONSENT TO VIEWING THE CONTENT INCLUDED.!!

YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY SO PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS PROVIDED.

NO REPOSTING (rewriting, copying or translating on another platform claiming it’s yours or saying I gave you my explicit permission. I didn’t). If you see my work anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 accounts, please let me know.

My fabulous banner was designed by the amazingly beautiful @gotnofucks

################################

ANDY BARBER

BROCK RUMLOW

BUCKY BARNES

LOKI LAUFEYSON

SAM WILSON

STEVE ROGERS

TONY STARK

THE AVENGERS

CROSSOVER CHARACTER COMBINATIONS

CHOOSE YOUR FICTIONAL PARTNER

SEBASTIAN STAN

MARIA HILL

RANSOM DRYSDALE

JOHNNY STORM

################################

CHRIS EVANS

Creature Comforts (soft)

⭐Named Female Reader⭐

Synopsis:- Facing surgery, you need a little distraction to get you through.

Total Word Count:- 1,146

🎁Written as a gift for @ozarkthedog

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ARI LEVINSON

What's Another Year? (soft)

Synopsis:- Waking up another year older is never the nicest feeling in the world, except when your lovingly thoughtful boyfriend decides to surprise you over and over and over again.

Total Word Count:- 4,257

🎂Written for @syntheticavenger as a Birthday gift.🎂

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CLINT BARTON

Shattered Hearts (soft/dark-ish)

Synopsis:- Can a broken heart and a chance encounter really lead to everlasting love? Take a shot and find out.

Total Word Count:- 4,502

📝Written for @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge

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RHAENYS VELARYON (TARGENYEN)

Finding Her Calm In The Chaos (soft)

Synopsis:- Throwing her lot in with Rhaenyra in the hopes of protecting the boys betrothed to her beloved granddaughters, as well as the peace her grandsire and cousin had presided over during their lifetimes, Rhaenys now finds herself planning for the future while hoping to survive a litany of mistakes from the past. So where then do you fit into all of that?

Total Word Count:- 4,003

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NICK FOWLER

What A Pussy Wants (dark!Mob Boss)

Synopsis:- When your ex shows up and interrupts your new life, will you continue to stand alone or fall back into familiar habits?

Total Word Count:- 2,722

📝 Written for @saiyanprincessswanie 4.2k Writing Challenge

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

--

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

--

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

--

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

--

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

[that1fanficwriter]

Hi hi! I’d just like to say you are so talented and I loved what you did with my last request! I was hoping to request another Jonny Goodman fic where the reader is Jim’s daughter or granddaughter (around Jonny’s age) that lives with him and they’ve been kinda dating in secret for a while so they could have some sense of normality before their families found out but then they finally tell them one night during dinner. Lots of fluff preferably! Thanks so much 💜 ~🐝

Things Don't Always Go According to Plan

Pairing: Jonny Goodman x reader

AN: Sorry this took me so long to write Tumblr deleted all of the work I had done so I had to rewrite it all. Also, I changed the ask just a bit so that the reader is Jim’s niece and because I came up with a really funny antic I wanted to include.

It was once again time for the winter holidays, which means that more of your boyfriend’s crazy family is in town. You and Jonny had been dating for quite a while but had yet to tell either or your families; maybe because your uncle is infatuated with his mum. You both had tried announcing the news but nothing ever seemed to go as planned (where would the fun in that be?) so you came to the agreement that the upcoming holidays would be the best time.

On Christmas Eve you had gone over to Jonny’s flat to go over the plan one last time but you both got carried away, as usual, once you made dinner together and opened a bottle of wine and eventually moved onto something stronger after realizing what you were getting yourselves into the next day. The next morning you both woke up with hangovers and decided to take your time eating breakfast and getting ready for the day. As Jonny made breakfast for you both, you were relieved when you remembered that you had left clothes at his flat because your clothes from the night before where in no condition to be worn before washing again having been strewn across the bedroom the night prior.

You both had been enjoying a nice quiet breakfast when it had to been interrupted by a call from none other than Jonny’s annoying older brother Adam. All you heard from the other room was “You shit head! Don’t you dare tell mum!” Before Jonny came bursting back into the kitchen where you were cleaning up. “We need to go, Adam is going to tell my mum that I got drunk last night and that now I’m really hungover.” He told you.

“You know, he’s not wrong. But it probably is a good idea. My uncle Jim just texted me, it’s just a jumble of letters that I can’t understand, but still a good idea.” You tell him before you both rush out the door to Jonny’s car.

Jonny drops you off at your Uncle Jim’s house so that no one suspects anything but before you leave you remind him “Text whenever you think it best for me to head over and I’ll sneak out so your mum doesn’t have to deal with my crazy uncle yeah?”

“Of course. Love you!” He tells you before you kiss goodbye and go your separate ways for the time being.

When you step inside the house you are surprised that Wilson is not running to greet you and that you have to go find your uncle. “Uncle Jim! Where are you?” You call out.

“Ah Y/N. We’re in the kitchen. Wilson has been drinking again.”

“You can’t keep letting Wilson drink. Alcohol can be poisonous for dogs.” You say, annoyed having already had this conversation before.

“I know, he’s just too fast for me.” Jim says after flinching away from Wilson who turned to look at him.

“Ok, why don’t you just move it to one of the higher cupboards so he can’t reach it.” You suggest.

“That is a lovely idea. We should go tell Jackie about it!”

“Maybe later? I have to go get ready to meet some friends in a little bit.” You say as you head upstairs to your room.

By the time you finish up getting ready, working on some assignments for Uni, head back down stairs, and hear from Jonny, Jim and Wilson are no where to be found. You figure that they are probably out for a walk again so you head down the street to the Goodman’s house.

You ring the doorbell and you are almost immediately greeted by Jackie. “Hello, love! How are you doing? Would you like to pop in for a moment? Jonny told us you might be stopping by.”

“Thank you so much Jackie. I’m doing well so far today. Has my Uncle Jim been by? He wasn’t at the house when I left.”

“Well, we haven’t seen him in the past hour but that means that he is probably due to pop round soon. Why don’t you come through and meet everyone. Maybe you’ll even get to meet Jonny’s mystery girlfriend. He said she’s stopping by today!”

You give an awkward chuckle as Jackie leads you to the living room where you immediately notice Jonny’s new jumper with a winged cow on it? “Lovely jumper Jonny. I think it’s the best looking one you own.”

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m sure if Mum knew you were coming by you would have one too.”

You give a laugh and go sit next to Jonny while he gives Adam his present. When Adam opens his gift all of the leftover spaghetti from the previous night spills onto his trousers.

“Jonny, are those the leftovers from last night?” You ask.

“It sure is! Skill!”

“That’s why you had us make extra.” You said before you realized what it meant.

You and Jonny both freeze, realizing what you both just revealed.

“Wait, what did you just say?” Adam asked with a sly smile, knowing what he just discovered.

“Nothing.” You and Jonny say very quickly, trying to cover what you just let slip.

“No, you just said that you were together last night!” Jackie said, getting more excited. “What happened? Are you two dating? Is she the mysterious girlfriend you’ve been talking about Jonny? This is so wonderful!”

Before either you or Jonny could respond Martin butted in. “Is anyone going to take that?” He said gesturing to the pasta still in Adam’s lap. “No? I’ll take it then.”

“Pigs, all of you.” Martin’s mother comments.

“Jon Jon, answer your mother’s questions.” Nellie reminds.

“Ugh fine.” Jonny says, looking over at you to make sure you were ok with the information he was about to disclose. You nod in confirmation. “Yes, we’re dating. Yes, she’s the girl I told you about and as you can see she is very much real. We were going to tell you today which is why she came over last night for dinner.”

After Jonny finishes his “speech” his mum and grandma swarm the two of you to give you hugs and kisses. Adam of course joins in just to annoy Jonny.

Maybe just to ruin the moment Martin’s mother butts in again. “Has anyone seen Budiseer since I let her outside?”

Everyone turns around to look out the window.

“Yeah, Grandma. She’s fine. She’s outside with Wilson? Watching her from behind?” Adam says, getting more concerned the more he sees.

“Oh great.” You say.

AN: I have no idea if I spelled the dog’s name right so if I didn’t please let me know and I’ll fix it.

[redwingsupportgroup]

can you please make a fic recommendation list or something like that, I trust your taste because you love Sam and you'd love fics where he is appreciated or well written ☺️ the fics could be from ao3 or tumblr anything 🙏

if this is too much to ask then ignore the ask, I love your blog tho 🥰

you should get some sun by heatwves

Sam is grieving, and Bucky tries to help

told you that i'm on the way, i'm like an exit away by quidhitch

Bucky is coming home from therapy one day and Sam is just. There. Leaning up against the side of his hut, staring warily at a goat and gnawing on a mango. The navy duffle at his feet makes Bucky’s pulse hum.

“What the hell?” Bucky says, by way of greeting.

“You look like shit,” Sam says back, tossing his mango peel in the general direction of a goat.

baby we'll be fine by napricot

“Just to clarify, when you say vampires, you mean literal, actual vampires. Not, like, aliens that act like vampires,” asked Bucky slowly.

“They’re literal, actual vampires, yes,” said Blade, a combination of words that Sam had never wanted to hear outside of an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “And I’ve been fighting them since they killed my mom.” Sam couldn’t see his eyes, but Blade’s whole face went tense and his next words came like he was forcing them out. “l could really use some superhero backup.”

This, Sam reminded himself, was his life now. Being Cap. Living with Bucky. Knowing about...vampires. He took a deep breath in, let it out slow. Vampires are real he tried, testing it out. It didn’t feel great.

Sam discovers he's got limits on this superhero bullshit. Bucky sympathizes.

losing him was red by casdoms (moffwithhishead)

Wanda scoffs under her breath, taking a sip of tea that wasn’t there before, “Men. They’re so...”

Bucky snorts, “Thickheaded?”

Friend of Dorothy's by rainyndigo

"Sam looked at the broken pieces of a man laid bare in front of him like Icarus looked at the Sun. If he got close, close enough to take those pieces sharpened by time and pain, by the ugliness of the world would his wings melt too?"

They argue, they look back to times now gone, they dance and nothing gets easier.

warm blood (feels good, i can't control it anymore) by notcaycepollard

Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.

Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.

"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.

"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious.

"Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."

reach out by heatwves

"Sam closes the door behind him. The noise from the party subsides, now just muffled sounds and indistinct music.

"Sharon told me you'd be here," he says, his voice soft but still audible."

Missing scene from tfatws ep 3 where Bucky and Sam work through what happened at the bar.

Hot Cocoa and Feelings by maddienole

This wasn't the first time Sam found Bucky on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

Skip, Reverse by AidaRonan

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

Geriatrics by Honorable_mention

“You’re not gonna believe this, Sam, but I knew this guy back in the thirties. We grew up together.”

Bucky leaned back in his plastic chair.

“Mrs. Chbosky made the best fruitcake on the block.”

“I swear you were the only one who liked it, Barnes. That thing was inedible.”

“Well I thought it was nice.”

The Got-Your-Man (And Now What To Do With Him?) Method for Not Screwing This Up by rhombus

Sam Wilson does not need any more therapy, thank you very much. What he needs is for his boyfriend (official label TBD) to simmer the hell down.

Smooth sailing? Ha. Not even in a kiddie pool.

(aka when a couple of sweet idiots completely ignore Dr. Raynor's advice to actually talk to each other like grown ups.)

A follow-up to The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict.

Mr. and Mr. Wilson-Barnes by @sammy-souffle

Just a regular day at the Wilson-Barnes household

if i gave you my hand (would you take it) by @omg-just-peachy

“Where does it hurt?” Bucky asks, holding onto the ice pack. He’s wrapped it in a dishtowel, Sam notes, which is… nice.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sam says with a grimace.

“I can take care of myself.”

Bucky’s quiet for a long minute, face half caught in the shadows, but he smiles to lighten the mood.

“I know you can,” he tells him. He holds Sam’s gaze like he’s making sure Sam’s really hearing him. “But you don’t have to.”

(Or, 5 times Bucky dotes on and flirts with and takes care of an increasingly flustered Sam, and one time Sam catches on)

Follow by @attaining-fic

After arguing about the shield with Bucky, Sam can’t find any sleep. He’s surprised when he hears ‘Trouble Man’ coming from Bucky’s room. Maybe the conversation wasn’t over.

Can be read as pre-Sam/Bucky or just platonic. Blink and you’ll miss it implied Sam/Riley.

be around me by @yaksomins

“so, what are you boys getting into today?”

bucky and sam exchanged glances.

“i meant the actual kids,” sarah stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee and took a sip, “not the two grown men that behave like children.”

sam gestured at her with his syrup-laden fork. “i resent that.”

Hope is the thing with feathers by @janeyfoster

Sam smiled, eyes soft. He leans in, lips just a breath away from Bucky's ear.

"Wanna hear a secret? It starts with 'I' and ends with 'love you'.".

After the events of Endgame, Sam goes home to his family in Louisiana.Bucky isn't too far behind.[ rewrite of the falcon and the winter soldier ]

Bucky's Dating Tips by Six2VII

Bucky gives Steve his dating tips. Sam is not amused.

Another One Bites the Dust by @yikesdontlook

“So,” Sam starts. “Where did Sergeant Barnes learn how to steal a car?”

If the question amuses Bucky, he doesn’t show it.

“Nazi Germany. And we’re borrowing, get your dirty feet off the dash.”-

this is what it's like to be lonely by @uhthor

Bucky explores the five stages of grief with his therapist.

Please don't read unless you are up to date with TFATWS. Each chapter will be based on an episode, so this is your spoiler warning

I have a tag too where you can find more tumblr fics and the authors accounts <3

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #3 - Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles

Word Count: 1912

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff, erm…a Relationship that You Want to Happen but Know Never Will

Setting/Characters: The first part of Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014 after Steve’s hostage mission; Reader, Steve Rogers, mentions of Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, and Nick Fury

A/N: This…isn’t what I thought it was gonna turn out to be. But I like it, it’s cute, and I needed something pure with the shield after that ending scene, so I’m posting it.

I have a few more One Shots planned that take place during TWS so I’ll be writing those today and tomorrow. This week is a lot less hectic than last week (I was being trained in another area of my job last week, hence crazy hours), so expect more One Shots coming this week. Again, I’m trying to post them chronologically, but there might be some out of order depending on what you guys request and when, which is totally fine!

For today, I have the Reader meeting Sam (which is kinda what this was supposed to be, but…oh well) and more about the notebook planned. Also Reader meeting Bucky unofficially for the first time because he’s, you know, brainwashed and stuff. Later this week I’m planning on AoU stuff which will include the Party Scene and Wanda interactions.

If I can get through those by Friday when the new episode comes out, I’ll start on CA:CW which will include Reader officially meeting Bucky and possibly the airport scene if you guys are interested in that. Then I’ve got some Wakanda scenes and some Peter interactions. If not, I’ll start CW:CA next Sunday. Once the backstory is set up and completed chronologically, I might go back and just write some drabbles and stuff of random moments - kinda like this one. 

I did get a request earlier for Bucky’s perspective on the dancing scene in Part 4.2, so I’m planning on doing more rewrites of scenes in Bucky’s perspective, but that’ll come after the One Shots, so hopefully next week.

I think that’s all…umm…yeah. Once again, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you so much for reading! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying this almost as much as I am! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy reading and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

The beeping of the timer made you groan and set down the book you were digging into. You were just starting to get to the good part, but the food smelled so good, so you decided it could wait.

You were so focused on your task of getting your breakfast ready that you didn’t hear your front door open or the footsteps that followed it shutting, the thud of boots hitting the floor just around the corner. Setting the ready food on the counter, you jumped at the arms that wrapped around your shoulders and waist.

“Shouldn’t you be more observant for a spy?”

You gave a hum at his deep voice, tilting your head slightly as he placed his cheek on your shoulder, nose pressing up against the column of your throat. “Shouldn’t you be heading over to the Triskelion for your debriefing with Fury?”

He growled at the mention of the mission he was just sent on yesterday morning. The first few assignments he had surprised you with how quick they were over, but then you remembered yours were a bit different than his and you got used to him being back within the next couple days.

“We don’t have secrets right? I’m so fucking tired of secrets.”

Your eyebrow quirked up as you turned to face him, his hands slipping down to your hips. You took in his state; he was still in uniform, dirt on his face, hair unruly, the shield on his back gray with the dust that covered it. He obviously hadn’t even gone to his own place yet, meaning he just got back. “What happened?”

He huffed, letting go of you to rub his face tiredly. “Natasha. She didn’t tell me that Fury sent her to do something other than what we were supposed to be doing.”

“They’re spies, bubs. It’s what they do.”

“You’re a spy. You wouldn’t do that.”

Chuckling a little at his comparison, you shook your head. “Our relationship is a little…different than yours and Nat’s.”

“I wish they’d put you on my missions. I don’t know why they don’t. We work well together, don’t we?”

You snorted. “That’s probably the reason.” At his confused look, you shook your head. “Never mind. Just…we’re closer. I know you better than they do. You can’t compare them to me. It isn’t fair.”

He grumbled, eyes glancing down to your feet. “They still should’ve told me.”

“Hey,” you tilted his head back up to meet your gaze. “It was a hostage mission, right?” He nodded. “Did you save the hostages?” Another nod, which made you shrug. “Then there you go. You did your job and you saved people. It was a success. That’s all that matters.”

“He got away.” Steve argued. “He got away because she didn’t feel the goddamn need to tell me-”

“She was following orders. Don’t be mad at her.”

“You’re right.” His quick admission stunned you for a moment, until he continued speaking. “It’s Fury’s fault. I think I’m gonna go-”

He started moving away, but you tugged him back, shaking your head again. “Not yet, bubba. You can talk to him later. Let’s get you cleaned up first. Then we’ll eat and you can tell me how that run you went on yesterday was. Okay?”

His features softened and he nodded, setting his forehead against yours. “Okay.”

You had half of your dresser sectioned off for Steve’s things. SHIELD had moved him to DC about a year previous to be closer to HQ, especially after the Helicarrier became decommissioned for repairs. You already had an apartment in DC - it was where you stayed for the most part, hence the reason you were more than willing to stay in New York for a couple years. 

The moment he moved in about ten minutes from you, you knew, just like in DC, he’d be spending a lot of time at your place. Which is why you made the executive decision to have him bring a bag over one night and unpack his stuff.

It wasn’t the first shower he took at your place and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

While he was cleaning up, you got to work washing his suit and the shield. You teased him by saying you’d just throw his suit in the washer and the shield in the dishwasher, but you wouldn’t actually.

His suit was air drying by the window and you were at the sink scrubbing off the shield, wishing you had a backyard and a hose, when he padded back into the room, hair plastered to his forehead, dripping down his temples, sweats and a t-shirt clinging to his body. He shook his head, leaning on the counter besides you. You always found it amusing how big he looked in your tiny kitchen.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

You scoffed. “If you think I’m gonna let you walk around in that disgusting thing all day, you, my friend, are nuts.”

He chuckled, moving behind you and setting his chin on your shoulder, his larger hands stopping yours from their movements. “At least let me do this, then.” He murmured, taking the scrub brush from you, spreading the bubbles over the rings of the shield.

“You can help me. But I like finishing what I started.” You whispered back, reaching for a clean rag and dunking it into the soapy water, wiping down the star in the middle.

He placed a gentle kiss to your jaw, relenting easily. “Fine.”

You two worked in silence, the water running over the shield, taking the dirt and grime with it, hands occasionally brushing each other. Almost finished, Steve placed his hand over yours, moving it over to a certain spot. “The brush won’t get it.” He explained, his low voice sounding right beside your ear.

Smiling, you turned your head to look at him. There was a crease between his brow as he concentrated on getting rid of the smudge on the precious metal. Your lips turned up when you noticed a dark spot on his jaw he must’ve missed. He looked at you with a grin when you started giggling. “What’s got you giggling so pretty, honey?”

Letting go of the side of the shield you were holding, you reached up to wipe the dirt on his jaw that he missed with your thumb. “Can’t let that handsome face of yours get stained. And, speaking of stains,” you turned back to the shield, holding it up for the both of you to look at, the soft light from the window above the sink making it shine even more. “You think we got it all?”

“Hmmm. I think you missed a spot.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Where?”

He leaned closer to the shield, face right besides yours, cheeks practically brushing together. “Right…here.” His hand that you didn’t notice cupping water, came up and splashed your face.

You let out a shriek, stepping back, further into his chest, your jaw dropped. “Steven! My pjs!”

He cackled, leaning back and holding his chest, before gasping when you did the same thing back to him. “You’re on!” He grabbed his shield and filled it with water, making you squeak and try getting out of his hold. Stupid Super Soldier strength. He dumped it on you, water falling on your head, sliding down your back and making your pajamas stick to you. You quickly retaliated, grabbing the facet and turning it towards him, laughing at his shout.

The water fight continued for a few more minutes, bowls and cups coming into play, with Steve diving behind the counter and you slipping on the floor.

“Woah, there, honey!” He chuckled, the chortles coming from your lips reassuring him that you weren’t hurt. He leaned over you, reaching his hand out. “You okay?”

You nodded, taking his hand. “Let’s call it a truce, yeah?”

“Truce? Hell no! I won!”

“You did not! You just got lucky!”

He pulled you up, tugging you close. “Alright, alright. Fine. A truce. Let’s get you into some dry clothes, now. Don’t want you gettin’ sick, honey.”

You shook your head. “That’s actually a myth.”

“I’ll take note of that.”

An eyebrow of yours raised. “In that little notebook you never let me read?”

He smiled innocently. “Maybe. I added something else yesterday.” He informed you while tugging you down the hall to your room.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man Soundtrack.”

You hummed with an approving nod. “Yeah. That was a good suggestion. Who gave it to you?’

“This guy I met on my run.” He shrugged, heading over to his dresser as you grabbed a couple towels. “Sam Wilson. He seemed like a good guy.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, grabbed another set of sweats and a shirt, before turning to you and taking the towel you handed him. “Yeah. He served two tours in Afghanistan. Now he’s working down at the VA. Told me to drop by sometime.”

“Aww.” You stood on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. “My bubba’s all grown up and making friends.”

He rolled his eyes, ducking away from your hand and running his own through his hair. “Yeah, yeah.” His smile dropped as he looked at the clothes in his hand. “I think I’m gonna head out now. I should talk to Fury.”

You frowned. “You have all day, Steve. Just eat first, okay?”

“Okay.”

He was holding something back, you could tell. Picking out your clothes for the day, you decided to question him about it. “What’re you thinking about?”

Your backs turned to each other, you started changing, just as you’d down countless times before. “I was thinking about going to the Air and Space Museum again. If you wanna come.”

“You know I do.”

It was quiet for a few more minutes, only the sound of rustling clothes and zippers filling the air. “I-I think I’m gonna go after. To see her, I mean.”

You froze, keeping your heart and your breathing steady so he wouldn’t pick up on anything. “It’ll be good for you. She…she always knows what to say.”

“So do you.”

You cleared your throat, finishing with the final touches of your outfit. “I actually forgot that I have some stuff to finish up at HQ today, so I dunno if I’ll be able to go-”

His hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around, eyes pleading and face fallen. “Please. Please come with me. Honey. I need you there. With me. Please.”

You inwardly cursed yourself for falling for those puppy eyes, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “Okay, bubs. I’ll come with you.” You might regret it later, but the relief that washed over his features was worth it for now. The power he had over you scared you, especially since you knew he didn’t realize the hold he had on you, but you couldn’t help it. It happened quickly, swiftly, and you were down before you recognized it. And you didn’t know how to deal with it other than taking it one day at a time.

“Let’s go get some breakfast, now. I can promise it’s at least decent.”

The beam he shot you made your heart flutter no matter how hard you tried keeping calm. “I’m sure it’s better than anything I could ever make.” He pulled you close, lips brushing over your forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You sighed, leaning your head against his, eyes closing.

“Existing.”

***********

***********

***********

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​

@bibliophilewednesday​

[angelofthepage]

Some of you might know that I have a Bendy fanfic called Searching the Depths: The Heart of the Studio. (Which by the way has two new chapters coming that just need a little more tweaking.) It's very near and dear to my heart, and I've had at least a version of it going since the first year I was in the fandom. I have a pretty good idea of what I want to do with it, even though it's always evolving and changing, but lately, I can't get my mind off of what would happen if I changed this story to fit with BATDR. So I'm gonna talk about it. Warning, spoilers for BATDR and this fic ahead.

Searching the Depths is one of those stories that has branching paths and multiple perspectives. It doesn't focus on any one character, as I like to get into everyone's heads. It has a little bit of everything, but the big appeal is something I haven't gotten to writing yet, and I wish I could just skip to it, but the context needs to be there for it to work: the trio of Sammy Lawrence, Jack Fain, and Bella Ewe. I tried to deny it for a long time, but Bella is a core part of this story, and you know what? That's okay. My fic doesn't have to have universal appeal, I can have a main character that's an oc, this isn't the worst thing I've done.

Originally, I had the ending of Depths as this big fight against Joey to take him down, have the world crumble around them, and get everyone out and back to the real world (at the cost of his life and all of them still being made of ink but altered to look human). It had a lot of vibes of found family and starting over, and the character arcs explored had a rewarding aftermath. But since BATDR, I've contemplated another path: one where they fail.

They try to fight Joey, but Joey has gotten a character arc of realizing that yeah, he messed up, after spending some time with people he didn't expect to care about. And nothing he will do is ever going to fix his mistakes, but he's Joey Drew, an incredibly insistent guy, so he's going to try. So he manages to escape, locking everyone else inside tighter than ever, but he's not done messing with the ink machine. He knows full well that he can't set the people inside free, not until he's found a solution to them looking like monsters. He has to "fix" them, so they can come home. And this is the motivation for making Audrey, she's one of many experiments to try and get an ink creature to be indistinguishable from a human. And Joey grows attached, for the first time in a long time, he's got someone to love. But it's not meant to last, he's old and decaying, struggling to keep going, and he dies before he can correct his mistakes. Audrey is left in the care of a demon (unbeknownst to her), Belphene, who tries her best to take care of her, but there's only so much she can do.

The cycle has continued since Joey's pet project. The citizens inside have been rebelling, doing everything they can to break it, but it's hopeless. Bella has finally grown into a far more confident version of herself, now a cycle veteran rather than a scared newcomer, and she's gotten a much better handle on her depths diving abilities too. She spends a lot more time comforting souls, both to expand their army of lost ones and to ease the pains of those that are squashed into oblivion. She finally feels worthy of being called one of Sammy's flock, with her and Jack serving as both of his hands. Even though the landscape is hellish, she's found a family for herself, a place to call home, and that means everything to her.

But it's not meant to last. Wilson gets his hands on the machine eventually, and when exploring its many secrets, the people inside beg him to help them get out. It's been so long, they just want to go home. And Wilson, cruel as he is, denies them, traps them even more, messes with the narrative to weaken them, and stops them from fighting back. Sammy is hit with a character rewrite, memory loss that has him back in his old ways, no longer remembering what his relationships are, and removing his crucial link with the demon. Bella and Jack are devastated. Bella has sworn revenge against Wilson for this, how dare he take away someone so important to her.

When Wilson drags Audrey into the studio, Bella suspects that she's a creation of Wilson's and takes an immediate dislike to her. Her heart is hardened by the loss of her friend, and she doesn't hesitate to fight Audrey. If Wilson says she can't have Sammy, then Wilson can't have his little pet. But eventually they do come to an understanding, when Audrey reveals that she's working with Allison and Sammy (separately), and Bella regrets being so harsh. She agrees to work with her and starts getting into why the studio is such a mess, explaining the conundrum as well as sharing her power. Bella's dive is another golden ink ability, and with it, Audrey has a better chance of getting through this.

Bella sees a lot of herself in Audrey. She too was a daughter figure to Joey once (and later, a daughter figure to Sammy and Jack), taken under his wing and manipulated to do his bidding. She too was thrown in here against her will and made to suffer. She too worked on the Bendy property and was pushed too hard. But unlike Audrey, she had help to start. Sammy was responsible for why she turned to ink, but he ultimately took care of her and had her back. Audrey doesn't have that, Audrey is alone. Allison didn't stick around to help, and Sammy is too scrambled to help, so it falls on her now. She doesn't want Audrey to face what she had to go through, and maybe, just maybe, they can fix this together.

And this is where we get into what I was trying to achieve with Depths in the first place: BATDR beat me to my own game. The story I want to tell has a lot of similarities to it, and in some ways, seeing that validated a lot of what I wanted to do. I don't need permission to create what I want, but there's no denying that there's something comforting in knowing I'm not the only one with my vision. If the dev team can go and write the daughter of Joey Drew as a main character and have her have badass powers and kick butt, then I think I'm okay to have my OC travelling with my favorite characters. And because I waited so long, there are things from BATDR that I can implement far earlier into my storyline, like Memory Joey being an avatar for Joey that works on things behind the scenes in the loop, or Porter and Heidi existing far sooner than when we meet them, or figuring out what the origin of the Keepers are.

Or, most importantly of all: rewriting the cycle. This is the biggest thing that's kept me from continuing Depths (other than time and energy). I wrote myself into a corner with making the loop the same each time, it's gotten boring to write. Wilson changing the cycle, in some ways, gave me some agency to play with it for myself.

In Depths, we already know that the story of the studio is a story Joey tells to Eliza Stein, Henry's daughter, as a tale about her dad braving the afterlife since his death (yes Joey sucks for this, especially since he's the one responsible for said death, oh he's so bad). When Bella finally hears this story, it's because Joey wants her to animate it, as a "tribute" to the old studio to relaunch the Bendy brand in time for a big anniversary (in truth it's a part of his ritual to finally lock them all in there for good so they can't ever escape, once he gets his last employee back). Bella is, frankly, appalled by this story and thinks it's poorly done, and because she's a young woman who thinks she knows better, she goes about secretly rewriting Joey's story behind his back, which, unbeknownst to her, affects everyone inside the machine. When Joey finally gets his last employee, Wally Franks, to come back to stuff him inside, it ends with an interruption that puts Wally, himself, Bella, and Eliza inside the machine at different points in the story, so they travel with different parties. Bella has Sammy and Jack, Eliza has Malice, the Butcher Gang, and the Projectionist, Wally has Henry and Buddy, and Joey is in his office at the very end, but I'm contemplating who's gonna teach him a lesson. Might be interesting to stick him with Allison and Tom and have him mistaken for someone that can help ala the BATDR line of thinking with Allison.

Bella takes a bit to figure out that she's being forced to play the role she set out for Henry in the music department, which ultimately leads to her getting sacrificed and ending up as a searcher, because she wasn't the character this was supposed to happen to and her spirits are utterly crushed. Originally when I came up with this, I wrote it as new people being in the loop unlocked alternate pathways that Joey hadn't fully conceived, but I like this a lot better. Bella being forced to recognize the consequences of her actions really hits me where it hurts, and all of these characters getting to play protagonists for a bit and feel some of Henry's pain is a really nice touch. This also hurts even more when Wilson comes into the picture and makes the same mistakes she did, rewriting the story with no regard for those it would hurt. Though in fairness, she didn't know the characters and world she changed were real, he did and decided to do it anyway. She lives with that regret and is trying so hard to make up for her mistakes. I think Audrey would probably need to convince her not to be so hard on herself for it.

Not to mention, I haven't even begun to figure out how this would affect Eliza, Henry's daughter. I have an idea of what I want with her, but it needs more time to marinate. And Cyclebreaker Henry, oh man, playing with him is fun. So in Depths, I don't subscribe to the idea of anyone being fake, they're all real people that got sacrificed. But Henry has an interesting mechanic. He's a ghost that writes golden messages on the wall, something Joey did to take away any agency he had in the story. His body moves separately from him, an empty husk that is forced to go through the motions of the story. I'm rather tempted to have this husk, this shell of Henry, start to become a character of his own, with thoughts, questions, feelings, to fill a similar role to our Cyclebreaker Henry. This would especially work in my favor given some of what I want to do with golden ghost Henry, and it would hit really hard for Audrey to eventually find the seeing tool and get spooked by him. Not to mention all the feelings he'd have about having a false version of himself in there.

Yeah, needless to say, I have a LOT to think about in the way of Depths. I want to get back to playing with it, I just haven't quite been there. But hopefully we can do that soon. I just need to get through the part in reality for a bit so we can get to the studio full-time first. X'''D Curse my overly ambitious visions.

[elfwreck]

1983, your choice of media

Two books came out in 1983 that changed how I look at the world:

Prometheus Rising, by Robert Anton Wilson

and

The Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley.

While Bradley's gotten a lot of (well-deserved) outrage for her life decisions, which, on review, shaped a lot of her fiction, it's hard to overstate the impact of Mists. It was the first mainstream-popular story of a classic myth from the POV of a minor female character, and a villain at that.

In the traditional Arthurian legend, Morgan le Fay is a background character who exists to cause problems. Mists kicked off a revolution in rewriting mythology, and it resonated very strongly in the neopagan communities. It was very much a declaration of "We all know history is written by the victors.... so what might they have skipped?"

And, in retrospect, you can see a lot of Bradley's id showing through the story: the child neglect and occasional abuse; the weird incest themes; the sexualizing of what should be platonic relationships. I haven't re-read it in many many years, and I wouldn't expect it to hold up. Whatever magic it had back then - historians screamed at her bad research while the mystic communities put the book on their must-read lists and pushed it at new pagan and witchy people - there are no doubt better books for that now. But it was first of its type to get widespread coverage: a subversion of a classic men's adventure tale, written for the people who were told they had to play "ladies in waiting" while the boys got to pretend to be knights and kings. Suddenly, "priestess or princess" weren't static, sidelined roles in women's fantasy worlds.

(We still need that. Need more of it. Strong mythic stories where women are the ones shaping the world, and doing it without just stepping into men's traditional roles.)

Prometheus Rising holds up better. It's Wilson's breakdown of Leary's "8 circuits of consciousness" idea, and it's packed with brain-breaking segments, designed to make the reader question everything they understand about reality and their way of relating to it.

If Mists was about reconsidering history with the notion that the forgotten and oppressed may have had an entirely different story - and may not have considered themselves "the losers" even if they agreed on the facts of "recorded history" - Prometheus sought to teach that there is no "real truth." That we are all working from limited perspectives and jumbled incomplete data, and we all make flawed conclusions, and that is just how humanity works. The goal isn't to find the "right" approach. The goal is to understand that some approaches are considered "proper" and some are considered "immoral" or "illegal" in various cultures, and that despite that, some people are still going to use those approaches.

Less than ten years after the secret police game was established here by the National Security Act of 1948, the books of Dr. Wilhelm Reich were burned in a New York incinerator by government order. This was a shocking sight to some of us, who remembered that we had recently fought a long war against Nazi Germany for, among other things, their crime "against civilization" of burning books. Shortly thereafter, Dr. William Ivy, former head of a department at Chicago Medical School, was subjected to ten years of legal harassment for espousing a radical cancer cure. More recently, Dr. Timothy Leary was sentenced to 38 years imprisonment for espousing controversial ideas about neurotransmitter chemicals and reimprinting the nervous system. Now there is a war on against holistic physicians. It does not matter whether any or all of these "heretics" were right or wrong. Scientific truth is only determined after a generation or more of research; it is not determined by throwing the dissenters in prison or burning their books. The point is that the secret police game immediately creates the social context for a return to the mechanisms of the Holy Inquisition.

Prometheus includes practical exercises that readers can use to test its hypotheses. One set:

EXERCIZES

Start collecting evidence that your phone is bugged.

Everybody gets a letter occasionally that is slightly damaged. Assume that somebody is opening your mail and clumsily resealing it.

Look around for evidence that your co-workers or neighbors think you're a bit queer and are planning to have you committed to a mental hospital.

Try living a whole week with the program, "Everybody likes me and tries to help me achieve all of my goals."

One of his earliest points is that, whatever you believe, you will find evidence for it. Compelling evidence. GOOD evidence. All of humanity works this way; this is how human brains function.

Mists taught me that I didn't have to accept the male-dominant propaganda that surrounded me as The Ultimate Truth. Prometheus taught me to be wary of just replacing it with someone else's new Ultimate Truth.

[swamplatibule]

@sugarcoatedsadism @acircusfullofdemons

WELL. UM.

This requires a whole fuck ton of background, so infodump incoming!

We have a small semblance of understanding of what gives the Enhanced their abilities! There are said to be several artifacts just lying around in wildly different spots deep underground. The Society has uncovered one, which happens to be located right below the headquarters where most of our story takes place. That’s not a coincidence, it was built like that on purpose.

We have no clue how these artifacts work or how they even got there, but a person’s Enhancement comes from some tiny, almost microscopic fragment of that material latching onto a unique mutation in their DNA! So there are really two deciding factors in whether or not someone gets Cool Crazy Powers™️ - whether or not you have that mutation, and whether or not you’ve somehow gotten a fragment in your system!

(Also I keep saying “artifact” but it’s more like a massive, constantly replenishing glowing ore vein . I just don’t really have a better word for it at the moment.)

Because of this, an Enhanced person can go their entire life without having any kind of ability, or a Nonenhanced person can have a fragment in their DNA and not get an ability because they don’t have that mutation. It’s a lot more complex than that, but I feel the need to keep this brief in order to not completely derail the story I’m trying to tell here. We’ll come back to the specifics later.

I mentioned that the Society has possession of one of these artifacts. There are actually three that have been found - the one under the Starwritten HQ, one that the IBW had that we’re still trying to figure out the location of, and one that it turns out the DoA has uncovered. Well, fuck! That ain’t good!

You see, each of these artifacts has one small difference from the others, which is part of what causes the variety in Enhanced abilities. When an artifact is “hurt”, so is everyone whose ability was given by that specific artifact!

Anywho. You now have the bare bones of this little chunk of lore (which you should have gotten a while ago but I have Incapable Of Ever Getting Anything Fucking Done Disease) which you need for context for this little story.

So. Fox, Remi, and Wilson attempt to track down Rosalind, leading them to sneak into a hidden sea cave crawling with DoA security. As they venture further and further in, Remi gets a bit of a migraine. and their ability stops working. I wonder why. 🤔

They get caught and have to fight their way to the back of the cave, where Rosalind is, and wind up finding her and a team of scientists in front of one of the artifacts, running experiments to try and figure out how to destroy it - which explains the thing with Remi! Isn’t that fun! Wilson attempts to convince Rosalind to take a step back and look at all the people that she’s hurting, which really does not work and in fact only irritates Rosalind more and raises the tension higher.

And then, in an impulsive moment of blind rage, Rosalind fires a bullet right into the heart of the artifact, and everything goes to shit all at once.

The artifact does not die here. It’s hurt, but it will regenerate, along with all the Enhanced it supports. Just for peace of mind. However.

There is a huge fucking explosion!

Remi passes out

Two large fragments fly off and hit Rosalind square in the back.

As I said before, the fragments that trigger most Enhanced abilities are tiny, even microscopic! So two baseball-sized chunks is a whole fucking lot! Rosalind might not have had the needed mutation before, but having that level of whatever material the artifacts are made of in her body? That pretty much rewrites her DNA. Which then leads to. Yknow.

That whole situation.

really took all that spider symbolism seriously.

Rosalind is now Enhanced! Which isn’t a great look for the leader of a cult trying to kill all the Enhanced. She is immediately accused of being a traitor, and has to flee before she’s killed by the same organization that she was leading not two minutes ago. Fox and Wilson manage to escape with a now-comatose Remi, seeing as all the guards currently have their attention focused on the giant spider lady. They’re back at HQ trying to process what the Actual Fuck just happened while Remi heals.

Meanwhile, Rosalind is now going rogue since she has not one but two organizations after her! Her main coping mechanism for when things are incredibly fucked is to go “:D yep I did that on purpose this is fine I can roll with it” until she believes it. She’s a schemer! She can fix this! And it! Will! Be! Fine! That doesn’t mean she won’t need backup, though, and she only has one person left to fall back on. Agent 23.

Back with the gals, shit did indeed hit the fan in that coffee shop! Jade immediately attacked 23 when she realized Hollister was In Fucking Danger, and the two absolutely beat the shot out of each other until Hollister split them up and convinced her ex-girlfriend-that-may-still-be-in-love-with-her and her maybe-girlfriend-slash-attempted-murderer to Please Not Do That. And then the DoA shows up! But they’re not after Hollister or Jade, they’re after 23.

Why? Because 23 and Rosalind have a very sisterlike relationship, and because Rosalind has now been branded a traitor who was definitely conspiring against them the whole time (sarcastic) 23 has been roped into her BS!

23 gets badly injured, and only after Hollister literally begs her to help does Jade reluctantly agree not to leave her behind. Of course, they are very outnumbered and outmatched, so the only feasible option here is to just hide, and even that doesn’t seem like it’ll work! Until someone drives up and yells at them to get in.

That’s right.

It’s Jake from Statefarm.

Kidding, it’s just Rosalind.

Rosalind really only came here for 23, but hey, the more the merrier. She needs all the help she can get, and having someone from the Society who can easily become a hostage if need be doesn’t hurt!

[breakfaststuffs]

Fluctuations

Pairing: Bucky x Reader!Powers

Warnings: Language

A/N: I blame @angrythingstarlight for inspiring me to start this...thing. I don’t know what it is but I have done it. Lurker turned whatever.

Please, do not copy, translate, rewrite or post my work even if you credit me.

----------

“Fuck,” you hissed as you scrambled up the 6th flight of stairs in a desperate bid to outrun your pursuers. As soon as your eyes had landed on that tell-tale skull and tentacle laden logo, you just knew that things would go sideways.

Even as your calves burned and begged for a rest, you hauled yourself up the last set of stairs and spilled out onto the roof with a gasp of exhaustion and you made a wobbly dash over to the fire escape. Making one last adjustment to the straps of your backpack, you felt reassured that the weight of the stolen goods were still nestled between your shoulders and reached for the ladder.

“You should probably just hand it over, you know,” a voice stated simply from above and, in all of his winged-glory, Captain America landed softly on the rooftop a few feet behind you. Another half-second later, the person you had been hauling ass from silently appeared to the left of Sam Wilson and you felt frozen to the spot as his sharp blue eyes trained in on your face.

A bead of sweat trickled down your neck and you just knew that the wig you had worked so hard to affix on top of your hair was now very obvious and askew. You let out a breath you did not know you had been holding and let the reality of your situation settle over your shoulders.

Grasping the straps a little tighter to summon up your courage, you took a few unsteady steps to the side to be clear of the fire escape and then turned to dive off the roof. You heard a rush of raised voices behind you and a shuffle of movement before the world turned into a dark blur rushing up to meet you.

“Fuck!” you yelp as you dropped.

----------

Life has never been easy for you and, after coming back from the blip, it had gotten insurmountably worse.

Before the blip, you had managed to find security in your work and in your own personal life. The design firm you worked at was lobbing more work for high priority clients your way and there were signs that your boyfriend was close to proposing. You wished that you could share your accomplishments with your parents, but the fates had decided to remove them from the equation 3 years earlier in a sudden clash of metal and rubber that had permanently left a part of your heart hollow and numb.

The moment your life shattered for a second time was right after you had completed your usual circuit run around the neighborhood to help burn off some of the extra energy that had built up with the excitement of your sister finally visiting you in the city. Your sister was an hour out from touchdown and as you chatted over the phone with your boyfriend about dinner plans for the evening a sudden shock of cold settled low in your belly. Whatever words were on your tongue faded and drifted into nothingness.

The next thing you knew was you were standing in the same spot on the sidewalk with a gasp and were immediately bowled over by a jogger who seemed just as shocked as you were. From there, the disorientation only grew as the ripples of the repercussions of having the returned trying to find normalcy in a world that had moved on grew into tidal waves.

It was bad enough that your apartment and belongings were lost, your boyfriend had married someone else and the company you were working for had since dissolved. The true horror came when you realized that your sister had been flying 30,000 feet above the ground the moment of the blip. You had screamed until your throat was raw and the tears had gone dry as you realized your world had ended.

Thanks to government assistance, you had a roof over your head, but you were adrift in your loss and felt directionless for the first couple of months after your return. It wasn’t until you had saddled up at a bar that was one of your father’s favorite drinking spots did a sliver of hope crept back into your life. 

As you took another long pull from your glass, a gentle weight landed on your shoulder and the barstool next to you was quickly occupied by a sharp-dressed man with a disarmingly soft smile.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Did not expect to see you here,” the stranger said with a chuckle as he raised his hand to flag down the bartender. 

“Oh, didn’t really expect me to be here, either. But, sorry, do I know you…?”, you questioned with a thread of wariness stitched in your words. It also didn’t help matters that single touch on the shoulder was the first human contact you’d had in weeks. Deep down, you felt another layer of despair settle in the back of your mind.

“Ah, sorry about that. You see, I knew your old man and he was never shy about showing off how proud he was of his daughters. But, [Y/N], he really did go on about how special you were.”

You couldn’t keep the watery smile from your lips as you extended out your hand to his for a shake. “Well, glad to make your acquaintance…,” you left the word hanging as his hand grasped your hand firmly in his.

“Michael,” he said with a chuckle as he gave the bartender a quick nod as a glass of whiskey slid his way, “Nice to be finally meeting you.” He dropped your hand and snatched up the glass to raise it up into the air in front of him. “Here’s to your father,” he spoke as he took a gulp of the amber liquid.

“Yeah, to my dad...and all those we’ve lost,” you toast and raised your own glass to your lips.

“So, since you’re here drinking at 2 o’clock on a Tuesday, I am guessing that things aren’t going that well for you,” Michael pointed out with a sympathetic smile. Looking around the bar, it was clear that the majority of the current patrons were either in the middle of drinking their sorrows away or well-past an attempt at redeeming themselves. You had to wonder where you landed on that depressing spectrum.

“That obvious, huh?”, you sighed as you took another sip of your drink. “Everything that I worked for is gone and I don’t know how to even remotely get back on track. Just trying to get out of bed with a plan makes my head spin most days.”

“Well maybe I can help you start on a new path, [Y/N]. You see, your father sure could put away his drink and he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut when he got too two sheets to the wind. Now, he sometimes did a few odd jobs here and there for me and my associates over the years and it was bound to happen that he would start talking about you…” his eyes slid over to lock onto yours as he gulped down the content of his glass and, without breaking eye contact, threw the bartender another sign for a refill.

You had been in the middle of taking a sip of your beer when he dropped his insinuating remark and you suddenly found yourself wide-eyed and choking on your beverage. You heard him give a chuckle as you desperately tried to recover from the surprise and you shot a glare in his direction.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I’m offering you a job opportunity that will land you enough money to build whatever future you want. I just wanted to let you know that your special skills make you a very appealing candidate.”, he said as he leaned over and gave you a few encouraging pats on the back.

Of course, the one person in her life that had ever discovered her abilities and swore to secrecy would have spilled the beans. She had fought so hard to hide that she was different and it wasn’t until her father had burst back in exclaiming he’d left the keys on the kitchen counter and found her lifting the couch easily with one had to pick up the remote at 16 did the secret get out. Once he had stopped gaping like a fish at her, the onslaught of questions and a never-ending stream of curiosity continuously poured down for years.

“How much did he say?,” you murmured bitterly.

“Enough to know that you can get the job done. Now, you weren’t the only one to take a few losses after coming back. Turns out a few of our properties fell out of our control while most of the family was gone. Word is that one of our old buildings downtown was hiding a bit of a secret in the basement that had managed to stay undiscovered until someone else started renovating our property.” Michael’s voice took on a bit of a hard edge as he wrapped up the last sentence.

“Seems like they are having a hard time getting inside, but we want to know what’s inside and for you to get anything valuable out for us. And that, my dear, is where you would come in.”

“Wait, why exactly do you need me? What is it that is stopping you from just walking in and taking it?”, you ask with words laced with suspicion.

“Your father always said you were clever.”, he smirked as he gave you a small toast in acknowledgement. “For whatever reason, we think the government might be interested in what is rightfully ours. Just in case they send in a more specialized cavalry, we figure it would be safest to send in one of our own.”

“Less collateral damage, yeah?”, you scoff as you finished off your pint.

“Exactly, [Y/N]. I knew you’d be smart enough to catch on. So, want to know how much you stand to make?”, he said with a knowing grin.

You took in a deep breath, set your empty glass on the bar and swiped a hand across your face in resignation. “Sure. What do I have to lose?”

“Nothing at all, kid. Nothing at all.”

----------

You let yourself free fall for a split second before you let your body’s density shift. You suddenly dropped down to the ground and, right before you would leave a crater in the pavement below, you made yourself as light as a feather. You almost landed daintily on one toe before you bolted towards an alley to your right. You were well aware that Captain America would almost immediately be airborne, but you were so close to a very noisy, pedestrian choked city thoroughfare two blocks over. 

Making sure you were light enough on your feet to gain a substantial amount of speed, you didn’t bother looking up or back as you booked it into the busy city street. Once in the throngs of people, you jerked off the wig you were wearing and shook out your hair with a grateful sigh. You unzipped your jacket to wrap it around your waist and then shifted the backpack to sit on the front of your chest. You hoped that it would be enough as you did your damnedest to nonchalantly make your way to the drop-off spot.

You kept waiting for the hammer (well, more like shield) to drop as you walked, but as time wore on nothing happened. By the time that you stepped in though the heavy double doors of a rather upscale restaurant and were led off to a separate dining room, you were almost in shock at how you had managed to get away with it. 

“Ah, [Y/N], our hero returns!” Michael proclaimed proudly as he stood up when you entered the room. He offered to take the backpack from you and wrapped his arm around you as he corralled you over to a table near the back window. Two more men were seated at the table and their auras were far-less boisterous than the man who gave your shoulders a warm squeeze before setting you down at the head of the table.

As he opened up your backpack and spread out the haul across the table, Michael gave a sharp whistle and the dour mood shared between the other men quickly dissipated. “Now these look rather impressive. Who would have known we were sitting on top of a secret stash of Hydra weapons all these years? I know this can’t be all of it. How much did you leave behind?”

You shrugged and you gave a gentle shake of your head at the question. “There wasn’t too much left, but there were at least two boxes I didn’t get a chance to go through before I heard someone coming. I was able to start running before they had a chance to realize I had broken the door down in the first place…” 

“Well, job well done. My associates and I are pleased with your work.” He flashed you a smile before reaching down into a briefcase to grab a couple of stacks of hundred dollar bills that he stuffed into your backpack. He walked over and dropped the backpack into your lap before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s have a drink to [Y/N]’s success tonight and to our continued relationship.”

He gave your shoulders a tighter squeeze that was borderline painful as he spoke. You knew that you might be way in over your head, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. This was something different and it felt better than drowning in failure.

----------

The next day you found yourself actually happy to get out of bed. You damn near whistled as you brewed up a cup of coffee for yourself and you bothered to even clean yourself up for a change. When your eyes fell upon the backpack that sat upon your plywood table and you couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your lips. Things were finally looking up.

Taking stock at your lack of food in your apartment, you decided to grab a few of the bills out of the backpack and to head down to the local corner store that always had some amazing fresh produce out on display. With your stomach growling at the thought of food, you tucked the money into your back jean pocket and sauntered out the door.

You gave a quick wave to the owner as you grabbed a basket and started to peruse over in the direction of the fresh fruit. Spotting some jazz apples that were catching the morning light and your attention, you slid over to reach out and grab a few when your hand ended up grabbing at leather instead of an apple.

You blinked owlishly before jerking your head up to see who had blocked you from your potential breakfast. Any words you had died in your throat as your heart felt like it was seizing in your chest. A pair of steely blue eyes met yours and the expression in those orbs went from surprise then quickly morphed into something far more accusatory.

With your brain suddenly working overdrive and any rational thought flying out the window, you let out the breath you had been holding shakingly and brilliantly said the first thing that came to you.

“So, uh, come here often?”

Those eyes narrowed just a fraction more and you knew you were doomed.

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So, should I continue this or nah? This is my first...so please be gentle.

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? V // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: 1995 was Sunset Curve’s big break in the music world with a successful future. Between 1995-2004 a handful of things happen: Playing the Orpheum, the band buying a house, a car accident, a reconciliation, an engagement, a wedding and children. All things that potentially may have not happened had the boys continued to eating sketchy hot dogs from a car.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy, labour, minor angst and a bunch of fluff.

Words: 3.1k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog. The last part of your request 🥺😭

A/N: Wow. The last part in the What If…? Mini series is here. This was incredibly fun to write and while I wrote the last two parts I played a few covers and rewrites of Unsaid Emily. This is the first finished series. I’ll also let everyone know that there will be a part three for Lost Time.

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Masterlist

Hospital Maternity Room #284, 1999

“Have a child, they said. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing they said. I can confirm that asshole that said that had a dick.” You hissed from the hospital bed. A contraction contracting your midsection.

Nancy Y/L/N and Emily Patterson took up residence in the chairs on either side of Y/N Patterson in the afternoon of 1999. Nancy had been using the previous months making a scrapbook for the baby; the first bit with copies of photos from Luke and your baby stages. The rest would be the first year of your baby’s life.

“Would you like some ice chips?” Emily asked focused on knitting the baby hat for her impending grandchild.

Mitch and Lance each had made themselves scarce from the hospital in favour of working leaving the women alone.

“I’d like your son to be here to kick his ass.” Your eye twitched at the thought of your husband currently on an airplane. Sunset Curve had gone on a three-day interview marathon to the dislike of your friends and family.

Sunset Curve really needs to fire their manager with little respect for his charges’ lives. Especially the lead singer’s first child. Luke had no clue you had gone into labour.

 “Your father had words with Jerry for his meddling.” Nancy told her daughter glancing up at the strained smile through another contraction, “I’m sure Jerry thought the controversy of Luke not making the birth would be perfect for publicity.”

“I swear I will strangle Jerry if Luke isn’t here. I will pulverize the son of a bitch.” You hissed relaxing against the white sheets in the private suite. The mothers had been constants in the room while Rose, the pianist from the wedding, had visited briefly.

 Rose and the photographer Ray had hit it off so well they had entered a relationship that then blossomed a friendship with you. The couple had become dear friends in the last few months.

 “Okay Y/N, we’re gonna check your progress.” The doctor spoke swiftly tugging the disposable medical gloves on his hands. Two nurses worked with him. Your eyes pinned to the ceiling during the short examination.

“We’ve hit ten centimetres.” The doctor announced pushing the wheeled stool away to study your expressions, “Do you have your partner here?”

The tears built up as it settled that Luke might miss the birth of his first child when he had been so excited about it. He had bought and read more pregnancy books than you he had been talking with his father on how he could support you. He took classes with his mom on how to change a diaper, check the temperature of the bottle and methods for colic and diaper rashes.

Overwhelmed the feeling of two pairs of hands comforted you with the reminder that while Luke wasn’t there, you still had support. The baby would be born with both his grandmothers in the room. It was as best as it could be.

In a fast pace, you then found yourself with your legs in the stirrups with a stranger, albeit a doctor, staring at your vagina. It was uncomfortable, but it faded when the pain really began.

“Okay I want you to push from 1-10.” The doctor soothed, “Good job.”

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Nancy told you, leading Emily to open her mouth. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance.

 “I’m here!” Luke exclaimed rushing into the room, “Your dad was-“

Why was it unfortunate that Emily didn’t speak? Well, Luke unprepared caught sight of your exposed lower half. He promptly fainted with a thud to the floor.

“Are you serious?!” You yelled glaring at the puddle of your husband out cold with one of the nurses waving a package under his nose.

The smelling salt pack under Luke’s nose, bringing him back to consciousness, “Oh, boy. I fainted.”

“It happens more often than you would think.” The nurse told the young man while you focused on another push.

By the time the contraction ended, Luke had taken his mother’s place in holding your hand with encouraging words dripping off his tongue.

“This is the only child we’re having.” You hissed at the musician who continued to pale with a perfect view of the birthing in a reflection, “If you faint again I will…ARG”

A beautiful cry filled the room to the relief of baby Patterson’s parents bringing both of them to cry as well. Baby Patterson was scooped away to the corner of the room for a checkup and weight while the doctor inspected you. Time felt unreal as it passed quickly.

Baby Patterson was wiped clean as you delivered the placenta, got cleaned up with a sheet change and began to rest. Baby hairs plastered against your forehead you cooed at the swaddled form of your baby.

“So beautiful.” Luke whispered, unaware of his mother taking pictures with the lessons Ray had given her. The baby’s mouth opened with a gurgle that caused your heart to grow, “I’ll go let the boys know.”

Mesmerized by the baby, Luke made his way to the family waiting room on the maternity ward where it was packed. Opening the door, he counted Reggie, Bobby, Alex, Alex’s boyfriend Willie, your father Lance and Luke’s father. In the corner, Rose and Ray huddled together.

“Well?” Alex anxiously questioned picking at his cuticles, anxious for any news. His blue eyes begging his best friend for answers.

“Y/N is doing fine. The birth was smooth, and baby Patterson is healthy.” Luke proudly announced, placing his hands on the hem of his purple long sleeve shirt.

The room went silent before Mitch spoke, “So, do I have a granddaughter or a grandson?”

From the moment she was born, Stevie Eleanor Patterson had her father tied around her finger with her daddy’s matching hazel gaze. Lips like yours and a nose still unsure of but the nine-month-old was absolutely gorgeous with her short brown hair already curling. Of course, you could be biased as she was all yours.

Stevie wouldn’t settle without rock music of her father singing songs, but she did sleep through the night since day one. That didn’t mean she’d continue to sleep through the night, regression of sleep was tale your mother told about you as a baby.

“Hello sweet baby girl.” You whispered gently rocking the baby back to sleep mesmerized by the perfect combination of you and Luke, “So sleepy from feeding hmm?”

Stevie was heavy with the only complication being the minor tongue tie that was resolved increasing her feed. Stevie had such an appetite you had to compensate with formula to a degree, and you were sure the appetite was all Luke.

“Hey sweetheart.” Luke murmured from the door of Stevie’s bedroom wearing his Rush cutoff shirt and his staple black jeans.

The now twenty-year-old man had transitioned smoothly into fatherhood with the support of his best friends and family. Emily and Nancy had alternated staying in the guest room to help in the first month; the birth had been easy, but recovery had been at a near standstill.

“Hey!” You spoke as Stevie reacted to Luke’s voice, “I thought you said you would be late?”

Luke’s lips turned up at your words, “It looked that way, but Tom sent us home. God, I wish we had him from the first instead of Jerry.”

Both noses of the couple scrunched at the insensitive former manager that had both hit on you and insulted you when started showing with the pregnancy. The minute they could the band fired the man and found a saviour in Tom. Tom had left his previous employment with some magician with a name like Conner or something. The magician was narcissistic truthfully and had a slight obsession with the occult and death.

“Perfect. I need a shower.” You sighed shuffling Stevie into Luke’s warm embrace staring at the daddy-daughter duo.

“Have a bath. Relax babe. I got it.” Luke cooed, staring at his baby daughter’s bright gaze and dimpled smile.

Luke couldn’t believe how blessed he had been in falling in love with someone like you and receiving a gift. The gift being a father to the most beautiful angel in the world with the name Stevie.

“Love you!” You called over hastily make a flee for the master bathroom with the large tub before Stevie objected.

How lucky were you to have a husband like Luke?

Malibu, Patterson home, 2004

Luke, Reggie, Bobby and Alex, better known as Sunset Curve, had become legendary in the music world after their 1995 headliner debut at the Orpheum. In the nine years since the esteemed performance Sunset Curve had released two studio albums and toured four times. With the good times came the bad times as well.

Bobby Willis had decided he wanted to pursue a solo career creating a cavern between all four boys. He would change his name to Trevor Wilson at the suggestion of his label. He had little traction with his songs.

“Daddy!” Squealed, the three old little brunette girl ran through the modest-sized mansion to the man at the door, “I missed you!”

Luke, having memorized the routine, had already left his bag on the ground as his five-year-old daughter launched herself into his arms. Stevie had kept the hazel eyes with the chocolate coloured wavy hair. You could see yourself with her nose, chin, mouth and ears, but the rest is all Luke.

“Bug, you saw Daddy this morning.” You spoke, bringing Luke’s attention to the woman leaning against the wall. Luke’s heart fluttered, taking in the vision of his wife, who inspired so many songs.

Luke’s lips separated to reveal that perfect smile that stilled made your stomach flutter as it had since you were both fifteen. His hazel eyes glanced from your face to the one-year-old on your hip with his eyes closed. Little lips opened with quiet snores.

Hudson Jude was born in December of 2002 thankfully while Sunset Curve was on a break allowing Luke to be there. Hud was a near replica of you with the same eyes as his older sister and father. His infectious personality mimicking his uncle Reggie.

Mitch and Emily’s House May 2002

Last night had been incredible to Luke Patterson as Sunset Curve stood on the stadium stage as the sold-out crowd cheered as the song came to an end. ‘Now or Never’ had a special spot in the band’s hearts as they believed it had been the spark of interest from record execs back in ’95. Luke’s blue electric hung behind him as his best friends, his brothers, came to the edge with him. Grins splitting their faces the four boys grabbed hands and bowed to the audience.

“Thank you so much for coming out!” Luke’s voice reached every corner of the stadium drinking in the cheering and the signs in the crowd. And it felt like just yesterday they played the Orpheum before they hit it big.

The screams growing as Reggie’s winked in the direction of a group of girls, but Luke’s drifted to the VIP section. You stood with Stevie wearing the special headphones to protect her hearing. Her tiny hands clapping as her eyes wandered the large number of people.

The next morning, right now, he was in the living room with his parents, in-laws, his wife and daughter. So much had changed for the vocalist from fleeing this very house to returning to make amends. Now he watched his daughter playing with the toys Emily had found in the attic from Luke’s childhood.

“Hey I got you a gift.” You whispered to the man leaning against your legs on the floor. You sat seated on the couch while the other adults spoke.

“A gift? What for?” Luke questioned leaning to rest his head on your lap. His eyes found the little box you had hidden behind a pillow.

It was small and unassuming to the group in the living room. Luke’s fingers pulled the bow apart before the lid came off. Nestled in the velvet five guitars were. Taking one, Luke read the engraving.

“New Sunset Curve member: Coming December 2002.” Luke whispered blinking as he flipped it to see, “Daddy’s new music buddy.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, “The other ones are for the boys. The back has their names on it.”

 “We’re having another baby?” Luke softly asked, turning to face you completely. His eyes wonder-filled at the news, “Oh my gosh!”

“I know. I’m about two months pregnant at this point.” You murmured back cupping his cheeks with the stubble he hadn’t shaved yet. Tears filling both his and your eyes, “With how busy the tour was I lost track of my periods.”

“Oh my gosh. Can I tell them?” Luke pleaded on his knees, bringing the attention of both your parents. Stevie was still so enthralled by her toys she didn’t catch any words..

“Go ahead.” You smiled at the excited man. Facing the other side of the room, Luke nestled into your side on the couch..

Hand pressing on your flat tummy he grinned, “Stevie’s gonna be a big sister.”

Luke was so excited when his second child was born, he was thrilled at having a son; he would have been just as excited for a girl. He had a son and a daughter he loved with everything in him. He collaborated with Lance on a song for his own children just as Lance had.

“Hi Hud,” Luke spoke, stepping close to kiss his son’s sleeping head nestled in your neck, “How’s my gorgeous wife today.”

“Tired. Hud is breaking a new tooth, but Stevie’s been better today. She missed her uncle Alex.” You spoke, looking at your little girl.

 Stevie had become Alex’s shadow with the man even buying her a toy drumset for her fifth birthday. Alex and Willie had been away the past two weeks for a honeymoon; they legally couldn’t marry, but that didn’t stop them from having a dedication ceremony. The minute the law changed, you had no doubt Willie and Alex would find their way to a courthouse.

“We all miss Alex.” Luke sighed, “I hope he finds beach sand for the next year, there’s only so much I can take of Reggie. Bobby, Trevor came to the studio today. His sales have dropped, and his label dropped him.”

“He wants to come back?”

“To be fair he never really left the band. He went solo.” Luke admitted, “It’s hard to trust him after he took ‘Get Lost’ from us. At least he didn’t take ‘My Name is Luke’ from us.”

Your hand pushed up the hair hanging in his eyes below the orange beanie that had been a staple outfit piece for years now. Fronts pushed together, Luke kissed you for the first time today other than the quick peck as he left this morning. Hudson had a lousy sleep that left Luke staying up most the night with him.

“At the end of the day, it comes down to Reggie, Alex and you to make that decision. He’s never been a bad person, but maybe he felt like he wasn’t important. How many songs did he write?” You questioned your husband tentatively speaking to not spark his passionate anger.

You saw the annoyance in the crinkle of his nose and his eyebrows almost touching, but it didn’t take from the love in his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted Hudson to his embrace, tugging you to the spacious living room.

“If you look at it outside the band you have Stevie, Hudson and me. You have a family. Alex and Willie are connected at the hip. Reggie is with the band, volunteering at the kids centre, or with Ray.” It seemed it shifted something in Luke. His shoulders relaxed.

“The last few years have been pretty hectic.” Luke admitted watching as Stevie danced to the rock playing on the radio. Her little arms moving as if she was drumming.

Hudson shifted on Luke’s lap as you nestled into his side, watching the little loves you created with soft expressions. Stevie’s bright grin lighting up the room better than the natural light from the windows. The innocence she carried deep in her soul it felt like everything clicked into place.

“Daddy! Watch me!” Stevie giggled jumping as the song changed to Bittersweet by her grandfather Lance. The same song that played in the car accident back in ’96 that had a new meaning with having your own children.

It took a long time before Lance was able to pick up the guitar and perform; his lingering pain in his arm the cause. It took a few surgeries and physiotherapy along with relearning how to play before he performed Bittersweet. Lance performed for the first time live in your hospital room to his first grandchild.

“Whoo Stevie!” Reggie called from the front of the house. Behind him, Alex and Willie joined the same family.

“UNCLE ALEX!” Stevie shouted sprinting towards the tall blonde already crouching for the little girl.

The bond between Stevie and Alex was by far the cutest thing you had ever seen with how Stevie looked up at him. Alex would be the first to suggest tea parties and painting each other’s nails with newspaper for any spills. There wasn’t a better role model for Stevie to love. The bond was reminiscent of Uncle Jesse and Michelle from Full House.

“Ellie!” Alex shouted back swinging the little girl in his hug calling his unique nickname for her. He had taken to shortening her middle name; he really didn’t like when anyone else said it.

Peering over the pink sweater Stevie caught sight of Willie in the door, “Ready Uncle Alex?”

 At Alex’s confusion, Stevie wandered over to the skater smiling at the sight of his partner with the little girl. Willie’s brow furrowed as the girl came over to him uncharacteristically.

“Hi.” Stevie spoke, playing with her little fingers, “How was your trip, Uncle Willie?”

A small gasp from both Willie and Alex at the new title given that Stevie was shy with the skater. Stevie had been very excited for her uncle to come back from the honeymoon so she could surprise them.

“What?”

“You married Uncle Alex. That means you’re my uncle now too. Can I call you that?” Stevie’s brows furrowed concentrating on the man with tears in his eyes. The room was silent at Willie collected himself.

“I’d love that Squirt.” Willie choked out when her little arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Learn any new tricks on the drums?”

“Not really! But I lost a tooth!” Stevie excitedly spoke dancing on the balls of her little feet in the kid-sized black vans.

“Oh! Ray wanted me to pass on that he and Rose are pregnant! Baby is a girl due next year.” Reggie gasped, remembering the announcement from lunch at the Molina house, “Ray’s pretty sure they’ll name her Julie.”

The little Patterson girl eagerly informed her uncles on everything that had happened since the dedication ceremony with Willie and Alex. Even the twenty-four hours since she saw Uncle Reggie before breaking out into the dance moves from her dance classes. Hudson now toddling after his older sister with a smile on his little face.

A twist of expressions appeased on the members of Sunset Curve at the same time spoke together. All thinking of a distant vision of a Puerto Rican girl with a blurry face and gorgeous voice.

“Julie Molina? I feel like I know that name?”

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