#authortobenamedlater

[mrtobenamedlater]

It Seemed Like The Logical Thing To Do

@authortobenamedlater got a geeky Christmas present from yours truly a little early.

[ageless-aislynn]

From the Halo: Campaign Evolved 13 minute demo gameplay (not mine, of course) and by request (well, I did take a few liberties with it 🤷‍♀️😉but it started life as a request) for @authortobenamedlater and @sarnakhwritesthings from this post by @zepumpkineater who had the original great point, lol!

Here is what the actual request was for as well. 😎👍

[griseldabanks]

How about 38 for Sam and Bucky?

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Prompt: "Stay with me for a while."

Note: I already filled this prompt for Kara and Alice, so I decided this would just be another scene tacked onto the last thing I wrote involving Sam and Bucky.

BOOM.

Rat-a-tat-tat.

Boom. BOOM.

Whizz, bang, rat-a-tat-tat-tat.

“Riley! Riley, no, look out—“

Riley turning his head. Their eyes meeting in a flash of brilliant white light. An arc of lightning, stabbing downward.

Not Riley. Steve. Steve, suspended in the air for a moment, arms outstretched, then tumbling down, down, down....

“No!”

Sam jerked upright, his own scream still echoing in his ears. Where. Where was he, which way was up, where was Steve, he was falling, Sam had to catch him, but where were his wings, he was falling—

With a thump, he crashed to the ground. But it wasn't sand or dirt or stone, it was...soft. Carpet.

He threw a hand out, and it smacked painfully against something wooden. He groped in the darkness. A bed. Blankets spilling over the side, tangled around his legs.

Oh. A dream.

A white flash lit up the whole room in an instant, followed immediately by a deafening crash that made him jump out of his skin. Heart pounding, adrenaline screaming through his veins, he raised trembling hands to press against his eyes.

It didn't help. All he saw, projected against the inside of his eyelids like a movie, was Steve. One moment walking towards him, drenched from the rain, a goat cradled in his strong arms. A blinding flash, and he was flat on the ground. Not moving. Not breathing.

With a curse, Sam surged to his feet and marched out of his room, letting the door bang against the wall. He headed into the living room, trying to ground himself in the present. He wasn't in Afghanistan. He wasn't out there in the fields with a storm howling around them. He was in an apartment in Birnin Zana, provided to them while they waited for Steve to get a clean bill of health.

Right. Because Steve wasn't dead. Sam had saved him. He was alive, he was fine. They'd taken him to the hospital as soon as the lightning died down, and the doctors thought he was out of danger, but wanted to keep him under observation that night. And so he and Bucky had reluctantly come to this apartment, with every assurance that they'd be the first to know if anything happened.

Another flash of lightning broke Sam's train of thought, and he flinched again as thunder rumbled so loudly he could hear the glasses in the kitchen cupboard rattling against each other. Sam paced up and down a bare stretch of floor between the living room and kitchen, trying to breathe but failing abysmally.

Because what if something had happened? What if something was happening right now, what if Steve was flatlining and the doctors were rushing to him and no one had called them yet because they were too busy and it wasn't like Sam would be able to do anything just like always and yet again his brother would die and he would be helpless and alone and—

“Sam?”

The lights turned on in a sudden blaze that made Sam jump...but they remained on, a steady amber glow so different from the lightning. In the doorway to the other bedroom, hand still touching the light switch, stood Bucky. He'd changed out of his Wakandan robes and into sweatpants and a T-shirt. His missing arm looked weirder that way.

Another crash of thunder. Sam's nerves were too frazzled to even attempt to hide the flinch.

Bucky just looked at him, expression not changing. Then he walked over to the coffee table, pulled off his bracelet of kimoyo beads, and tapped one of them. A holographic image appeared in the air over the table, of what looked like a cardiograph. A red line moved smoothly through the center of the image, spiking up at regular intervals every second or so. A heartbeat at rest.

“Is that...?”

“Real time,” Bucky said, understanding Sam's breathless question. He sat down on the couch, gazing at the heart monitor. “He's asleep.”

Sam found himself sinking down onto the other end of the couch, swiping a hand down his sweaty face. He focused on trying to draw a deep breath without gasping. It was easier now he could watch Steve's heartbeat.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching those steady spikes. Sam timed his breaths in and out to those beats, until three beats passed before each inhale and exhale. His own heart rate was still faster than Steve's, but it wasn't galloping along like it had before.

Glancing over, Sam noticed that Bucky seemed to be doing the same thing. Focused on the same rhythm, they were breathing in tandem. Looked like Steve was still keeping them all in sync, even asleep and out of sight.

Then he looked at Bucky a little closer and noticed the exhausted furrows in Bucky's brow, the way his eyelids drooped. “You slept at all?” he muttered.

Bucky shook his head, not taking his eyes from the heart monitor.

“You should,” Sam said automatically. Old habits died hard.

“Tried,” Bucky said. “Just ended up watching this instead. Kind of like it used to be...back when he'd get sick all the time. I'd sit by his bed and just watch him breathe. It was like...if I closed my eyes, he might slip away. So I stayed awake.”

Sam nodded. It was usually hard to imagine Steve had ever been skinny and weak like in the old pictures...but on a night like this, when he couldn't stop thinking about Steve lying spread-eagled on the ground, not breathing....

Another crack of thunder. Sam flinched, but made himself take a deep breath and keep watching Steve's heartbeat.

“Is that because of what happened today?”

Sam looked over and found Bucky watching him. There was no judgment in his expression, only understanding. Of all people, Bucky knew exactly what it was like to deal with panic attacks and bad nightmares.

Then Sam realized he'd never told Bucky about Riley. He'd told Steve early on, but they didn't talk about it much; the subject was too painful. And even after Bucky had become a part of Sam's life, there were few occasions where the two of them were alone and in need of filling the silence. Once he'd discovered the difficulty Sam had with thunderstorms, Steve usually made an effort to distract Sam on nights like this.

But now Steve was in the hospital, asleep and out of reach. And the only one here was Bucky.

With a heavy sigh, Sam slumped back against the couch cushions. “I wasn't the only one chosen for the Falcon Program,” he finally said. If Bucky was confused at this apparent change of subject, he didn't say anything. “Riley was with me from the beginning, and he was the only other one who didn't drop out for one reason or another during training. We just...clicked, you know? Did everything together, even when we were off duty. He was like...like....” He tried to say it, but the words jumbled together in his throat, and he couldn't even swallow. Usually, it wasn't this hard. It had been years. But tonight...it was like he'd had to say goodbye only yesterday.

“Like a brother?” Bucky's voice filled the silence ringing in Sam's ears, and somehow he could breathe again.

Nodding, Sam closed his eyes to shut out the flashes of light behind the curtains at the window. He tried to remember Riley's smile, his laugh. It was probably just because of the late hour and his lack of sleep, but all he could see in his mind's eye was Bucky beaming as he ran over to greet them. All he could hear was Steve's belly laugh as they played with the kids in the village.

“What happened?” Bucky asked quietly.

Clearing his throat, Sam opened his eyes and stared fixedly at the heart monitor. “They sent us to Afghanistan. We did some good work there. Made a great team. Just Riley and me, saving lives. Saving each other. All we'd ever wanted to do. And then it was over.” The pain in his chest wasn't as insistent as it had been in the early days, but it still dug down just as deep. He thought he'd rather have one of the Dora Milaje stab him with one of their spears.

“It was a night mission. Nothing special. Just...he went left when he shoulda gone right. And then he was gone. And I couldn't....” His throat closed again, and he had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispered.

He didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say, really. But Sam appreciated it more than he could express.

The silence between them was easy as they sat there, not looking at each other. The thunder moved on. The lightning died down. The catch in Sam's chest steadily eased, until he could breathe deeply again, and his heart rate was almost as slow as Steve's.

Sam yawned so wide he could feel his jaw crack. After all the excitement of the day before, and then the sickening rush of adrenaline from the panic attack, he felt completely spent. Everything ached, crying out for the bed in the next room...but would he sleep? Or would he just lie there, staring into the darkness and trying not to think about the dream?

“Guess we should go back to bed,” Bucky mumbled, pushing himself to his feet. “Steve will bite our heads off if we pull an all-nighter.”

“Wait!” The word fell from Sam's lips before he realized he'd opened his mouth, and his cheeks grew warm as Bucky turned around in surprise. Sam looked away and mumbled, “Stay with me for a while.”

For a moment, he thought Bucky was going to laugh at him. But all he did was sit back down—not where he'd been sitting before, but right next to Sam, so close their legs jostled against each other.

Bucky's right shoulder pressed against his left—solid, warm, real. Not like the nightmares. Not like the memories. He wouldn't fade away as soon as Sam reached for him.

Right now, that was all he cared about.

[novelmonger]

33 for Steve and Sharon ❤️

33. How do they flirt? Who’s the worse flirt?

*giggle* If by "worse flirt" you mean "who is more likely to flirt or more shameless about it," that would be Sharon, but if you mean "who's worse at flirting," that would be Steve XD Their relationship is characterized by a lot of goofiness and not a little awkwardness, especially for Steve, who has never actually had an official girlfriend before, and in many ways still thinks of himself as the scrawny guy that girls would give one look of contempt and then walk off. Sharon has more experience in the romance department, but there's something about Steve that turns her into a dork - and Steve just thinks that makes her even more adorable.

I wanted to give an example from my WIP Take Me In, but unfortunately my best example of them flirting requires a little too much context :( So here, have my second-best example so far:

Finally, Sharon broke the silence with a sigh as she cupped her chin in her hand and leaned a little closer. “You should be glad I'm in Germany right now, or I'd come over and kiss you within an inch of your life.” Steve grinned, the warmth in his chest spreading to fill his entire body. “Wait, I'm supposed to be happy about that?” Sharon laughed. “Just you wait, Steve Rogers. Just you wait.” “Should I get rid of this first?” Steve asked, running a hand over his beard. He'd been growing it out ever since Jake had left, more out of convenience than anything else. “I'd hate for it to get in the way of my death by kissing.” Sharon tilted her head to one side. “I think it suits you, actually. And don't worry—nothing's getting you off the hook. The next time I'm in town, you're getting smothered with kisses no matter what you look like. I'm afraid you don't get a say in it.” Steve put a hand on his heart. “I hereby solemnly swear that I shall be a willing participant in my imminent demise.”

Ship Ask Game

[sarnakhwritesthings]

Julian Bashir

Miranda Keyes

Chrisjen Avasarala

Master Chief

Bobbie Draper

Tom Lasky

Catherine Halsey

lunch with Julian. ask him questions about medical stuff for fic purposes

+1 with Miranda, we're the STEM kids hanging in a corner.

I think Chrisjen would be fun to thrift with, actually. Or at least i get to hear all kinds of cutting remarks at the stuff people are selling. in for the sass as much for the thrifting considering i dont do it that much. also outfits. okay, i could do with a good chrisjen-chosen thrift outfit. her sense of fashion is 1000% better than mine

visit a library with Chief -- I get the feeling he'd enjoy it. And he's really quiet, too, which is a bonus

coffee with bobbie. hopefully convince her im interesting enough to not ghost my ass.

groceries with tom. in and out all efficient-like.

blue!Halsey i'd like to go to a museum with. Silver!halsey would need to be something she doesn't know about/is interested in so she doesn't condescend about 'humanity's next steps' at me

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Scrambled x Sunny: “Somebody help me.”

"Somebody help me!" She can hardly recognize her own voice; it's too loud, too desperate. "Help!" But someone has to find them, and soon. He's not moving, and he's lost so much blood-

There's a noise outside, and it might well be their kidnappers, but she doesn't care; she has to try. "Help!!"

He cannot die. He has to live. She has to save him. Her own wrists are dripping blood from one too many times trying to pull free of her chains, and her body aches from exhaustion and hunger, but she doesn't care; she needs to save him. Someone has to save him.

The door opens, and-oh-she's never been happier to see Smithson in her life. His gaze locks with hers, and something flickers across his face. If she cared enough to focus, she might call it concern, but at the moment, all she cares about is Damien.

"Please," she says, and her voice is hoarse from screaming. "Please, help him."

Eleanor steps in after him, and her expression crumbles. There's someone else behind her-the mysterious man who has apparently emerged from the shadows-but none of it matters. None of it matters.

"Please."

Smithson is at Damien's side in an instant, kneeling by him, checking for a pulse (the sheer relief after a moment tells Penny there is, at least, a pulse, and she can almost breathe again). Eleanor, meanwhile, sets to work freeing Penny, as the stranger guards the door.

"Are you okay, honey?" Eleanor asks quietly, wrapping a blanket around Penny's shoulders, and Penny frowns.

"Damien..." She doesn't know how to articulate it, how to say what they've done to him, how to explain how afraid she is. Eleanor gives her a quick hug, patting her back.

"I know. It's going to be okay; Jack's got him. Okay? Now, let's get out of here."

They all make their way to the truck still waiting outside, and as soon as Damien's in, Penny scrambles in after him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. No one makes any move to suggest she lets go, which is good; she wasn't planning on it.

As they head toward the hospital, Penny buries her face in the crook of Damien's neck, and prays with all she has that this isn't the last time she sees him.

[its-captain-sir]

SW 6 and 7?

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

I mean other than the people shipping straight up incest? codywan shippers 💀💀 they make EVERYTHING about Obi-wan

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

lmao this one kinda goes hand in hand with the one above. It's Obi-wan

[morganas-pendragons]

Do you think Cody survives this season of Bad Batch and will we ever get our Rex and Cody reunion the fandom has only wanted for about 10 years?

If he doesn’t, I will straight up cry. He’s one of my favorite clones (for a lot of reasons and it’s totally not because of the fact he and kix are best friends in my jedi!kix au)

If he doesn’t get to reunite with Rex I’ll SUE