NASA
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Jules of Nature
Cosimo Galluzzi
Misplaced Lens Cap
dirt enthusiast
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izzy's playlists!
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Today's Document
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@tllgrrl
Ryan Coogler and Michael B. Jordan talk about The Smoke Stack Twins is some deep cut character stuff that feeds my soul.
For example: Ryan says that Stack would, if necessary, cut Smoke’s hair.
This interview is a treat. It starts with Ryan making coffee for the interviewer, MBJ, and himself, then chopping it up about the Twins characters, also breaking down scenes from the movie.
The Wilson family, 1981.
Sam Wilson, now known as Captain America (front, left), poses with sister Sarah, mother Darlene, and father Paul in front of what would later become the family’s home in Delacroix, Louisiana.
Property of Sarah Wilson, digitally archived by the Capitol Park Museum, Baton Rouge. Part of the museum’s new collection on Louisiana’s own Captain America.
This is an absolutely lovely family portrait!
And a wee drabble as well!
Wumni Mosaku’s Sartorial Splendor KILLED in these Press Junket streets.
There’s a reason Wunmi Mosaku is firmly on the fashion set’s radar, and it’s not just because of her breakout performance in Sinners, the bu
THIS.
ACADEMY AWARD NOMINEE!!!
The SarahBucky Americana Songbook by @btwxsixesandsevens
Summary: Having been flung away from Fort Lehigh at the end of Marvel What If…Zombies (S1, E5), Bucky takes the opportunity and triggers his own last mission: Going home.
Read for a new SarahBucky slow burn adventure set to the sounds of the blues, roots, and bluegrass. Featuring undead shamblers, survivor gangs, and cozy post-apocalyptic homesteading. Eventual sex, but that'll be clearly marked.
* * * * * * * * * *
Bucky walked.
At first he didn’t count the days, which made them blend together into the worst kind of blur. It was like being the Soldier again, moving from need to need, avoiding pain, following some directive in his brain: Go South. Go Home.
A feral miasma settled over him, punctuated by blossoms of base emotion. Pain. He’d broken a bone in his ribs when he landed. Hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Disorientation. Where exactly he’d landed was unclear. Not fear, though. Vigilance. Intense awareness that he was alone, and not alone. His super senses remained. He could hear the scratching shambling steps of the undead as they wandered the suburban streets. Could smell the rot of their bodies. His vibranium arm was still heavy, still faster and stronger than it had any right to be. Sometimes it glowed gently purple in the dim light, but he didn’t know why. Experience told him that scavenging for food in a formerly populated area was the fastest way to end his trip for good. So he skirted the major population areas and kept moving. Walking down the two-lane state highways littered with abandoned cars.
Continued on AO3…
#ICYMI
multifandom: rewrite-a-fic 2026
rewrite_a_fic is a low-commitment, multi-fandom event dedicated to rewriting a fic you've written before! The goal of this event is to rewrite something you've done before, be it a one-shot or a longer fic.
The event will run from 1st January 2026. to 30th November 2026.
Oooooooo…
I’ve actually been planning a re-write/continuation of an existing fic. I might do in in the hope that it will help me let go of being so hypercritical of something I’m presently working on. Well…a couple of things.
Anyway, like Spock sez...
Just A Little Fais Do-Do by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones
Relationships: Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson/Misty Knight | Rated: SFW
Summary: Sam should’ve known he’d have to tell Scott Lang, the man with a hit podcast and a New York Times Best Seller, to keep an invite on the DL.
Didn’t matter. As far as Sarah was concerned, what looked like was now turning into a fais do-do was Sam’s concern because she and Bucky already made alternate plans for their own New Years Party.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sarah and Sam weren’t meaning to have an actual Party on New Years Eve.
Sarah sure wasn’t.
It was supposed to be just Sam and Misty, Sarah and Bucky, and Joaquin Torres, who was invited to come over and to bring a Plus 1 if he had one.
Sam also invited Scott Lange and Hope Van Dyne, who were going to be celebrating New Years Eve in New Orleans anyway. He told them feel free to drop on by if they found themselves overwhelmed by the New Years Eve crowd in “The Big Easy”.
Turns out that Scott casually mentioned to Clint Barton that Sam was “having a little get-together on New Years Eve at his place just outside of New Orleans”.
Clint then mentioned it to Nick Fury, who told Maria Hill, who told Carol Danvers, who mentioned it to Monica Rambeau, who told Jimmy Woo, who had no plans for New Years Eve.
Fury also mentioned it to Dr. Steven Strange.
Carol also mentioned it to Peter Quill and Thor, who mentioned it to Brunhilde.
And the next thing Sam knew, he was getting RSVPs from all over the place...meaning the Galaxy.
He even got an e-mail from Peter Parker, regretfully declining because Aunt May said No.
Sarah looked at the RSVP emails on Sam’s laptop, glared at the man and said, “I love you, Big Bro, but far as my kitchen and I are concerned, I’m closed.
Preparing and cooking for Thanksgiving and Christmas and now this?
We were going to have a nice, small, relaxed New Years Eve, and now you want to have a whole-assed fais do-do and fet up in here?
Feel free to cook, have a potluck or call a caterer, then. And you can watch me on the dance floor with my date.”
Fortunately, Sam knew exactly who to call on short notice. He knew there were some perks being Captain America, but this was definitely one of the best.
Keep Reading on AO3
* * * * * * * * * *
Glossary
fais do-do: a Cajun French term for party, shindig, dancing & drinking.
fet: From the French word fete. A big party.
* * * * * * * * * *
Thanks for reading my nonsense and foolery this year. I appreciate you more than I can say.
See ya on the other side in 2024!
🎉Merry New Year!🎉
Happy 7th Day of Christmas! ✨🦢✨ x 7
Happy 6th Day of Kwanza! Kuumba - Creativity 🎨✒️🧵🧶🎨🎼🎭🎥…
Wishing us all a healthy happy prosperous peaceful 2026.
all else above (dreaming of the man i love) by @philtstone | podfic read by @a-hopeful-romantic-blog aka Abraxas
Podfic of 'all else above (dreaming of the man i love)' Author: philthestone Reader: Abraxas Rating: Mature Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sa
Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rating: M
Summary: The eve before Christmas Eve, Captain America was set to speak at the United Nations building, it was blizzarding in Brooklyn, and Sarah Wilson nearly died by way of a giant wheel.
She didn't die, of course. She was very gallantly rescued by a man to whom she hadn't spoken in four months. All because she'd kissed him.
Or -- and this was really a pressing question for both of them -- had it been Bucky who kissed her?
* * * * * * * * * *
An audio ficlet for your Merry Merry listening pleasure!
✨🦾🧔🏻👩🏿🦱⛴️✨
Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: M (At the end.)
* * * * * * * * * *
“We’ll keep the lights on for Santa Claus and for you,” the boys told him the night before when he called to let them and Sarah know he’d be on his way home soon, arriving in time for Christmas.
”I’ll just say be prepared,” she chuckled. “They really got into the spirit this year.”
Even though the house was set back a little ways, as the SUV approached the driveway, the glow was visible from the main road.
Not only was the house brilliant, lights were also wrapped around a few of the trees in the front-yard.
“Wow!”
“Exactly what I was thinkin’,” Bucky grinned. “Thanks for the ride home, pal.”
“My pleasure Sergeant Barnes,” the white-haired older man smiled, eyes twinkling. “I’m on my way home, too. Been a long day. Y’all have a merry Christmas.”
“You and yours too,” he nodded, giving the driver a generous tip and a wave as the car pulled away.
He placed his bags on the porch, did a quick perimeter check of the property, then stood in the yard and took in the decorations before mounting the steps.
He smiled, and shook his head in wonderment at the display of lights decorating the house.
“Thanks, guys. It’s beautiful.”
He unlocked the door, touched the door jamb, whispered “Bast wam, sikelela le ndawo,” and entered the house.
The first thing he smelled was the tree, which was softly aglow from tiny lights. These were much more subdued than the ones on the exterior of the house.
The living room was festive, but also calm and cozy.
Next came the aroma of the freshly-baked cookies that were arranged on a plate in the middle of the coffee table. On another plate was a bunch of carrots.
And there was a note, carefully printed and signed by the boys:
Dear Santa
The cookies are for you and Uncle Bucky. Mama helped us make them. The carrots are for the reindeer. We picked them out of our garden.
Merry Christmas and Thank You!
Cass and AJ
He snagged a cookie, opened his duffle, pulled out several wrapped parcels, placed them under the tree, and took the duffle into the mudroom, leaving it on top of the washer to get to later.
Snagging another cookie, he picked up his backpack and headed for the downstairs bathroom where he showered, brushed his teeth and slipped into the pj bottoms and t-shirt that were waiting on the door hook.
Avoiding the squeaky step on the way upstairs, he looked in on the kids, then stepping quietly into Sarah’s room, he set his backpack in the corner, carefully pulled back the covers and crawled into bed, relaxing for the first time in hours. In days.
“Mmmmmm…” Sarah hummed as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her, kissing the back of her neck, burying his face in her curls, and inhaling the scent of her hair.
Bucky knows she fell asleep while trying to wait up for him because she usually puts her hair up before going to sleep.
She snuggled herself into him, and reaching back, ran her fingers through his hair as he cupped her breast before running his hand down under the waistband of her sleep shorts.
“Merry Christmas, baby,” he softly growled. “I’m home.”
Quietly giggling, she parted her thighs and purred, “Ahhhhh…’zat you, Santa Claus?”
* * * * * * * * * *
Also posted HERE on The AO3.
* * * * * * * * * *
Happy ChristmaHanukKwanza! Happy All The Holidays, including Festivus!
ICYMI
Merry Merry and Happy Happy!
Checking In… by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones
Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: SFW | -500 Words
Characters: Bucky Barnes-Winter Soldier/White Wolf . Alexi Shostakovich-Red Guardian . Yelena Belova-Black Widow . John Walker-US Agent . Ava Starr-Ghost . Sarah Wilson (mentioned)
* * * * * * * * *. *
“Hey, Sarah. Yeah…I’m okay. Nah, I’m fine. I—what? No, you’re fine. Fine as…never mind. Don’t get me started. I’m not exactly alone right now.“
Alexi tilts forward and whispers, “Yasha has a girlfriend!?”
Yelena raises an eyebrow, tilts in, “He and Captain America’s sister Sarah Wilson are Doing It.”
“What?” Walker all but yells. “Really?! Sam’s sister? Wow! Say, did you know my wife is—“
“Yes,” the others say simultaneously, in various tones of utter exasperation. “We all know.”
“Hey!” Bucky throws daggers at them with his eyes. “Pipe down.” He wishes he could throw actual daggers. He has more than enough knives on his person for each one of them, but he maintains a cool demeanor on the phone.
“So,” he continues, lowering his voice and turning his back for more privacy, “about Christmas. I…I might be kinda late getting back. No. Just some idiots I gotta take care of here. I’ll call you later tonight if I can. Hug the boys for me, okay? Ndiyakuthanda.”
“Aww!” Ava practically squeaks. “I don’t speak Xhosa, but I know what that means.”
“I’ve seen pictures of Sarah Wilson,” Alexi smiles and nods approvingly. “Good choice, Yasha. Beautiful woman. Nice frame. Almost as nice as your mother’s, Yelena. A good, sturdy woman, your mother. Ahhhh, the way she fills out her blue jeans is—“
Yelena’s chin drops to her chest. “Oh my god, Dad! Stop!!” If her hands had been untied, she would have buried her face in them…after using them to choke him out.
“What!?! Am I wrong?”
“Hey, Bucky,” Walker says brightly, “We do have something in common. We both have—“
“No.” He pockets his phone and feels the hilt of the knife in his shoulder holster.
“Okay, pal,” Walker grins. “I mean, we—“
“We’re not the same,” Bucky growls and stalks away. “If Val doesn’t call back soon, I swear ta God…”
* * * * *
@fleurdelouvemonth 2024: SarahBucky Bingo - “Free Space”.
The photo is from Entertainment Weekly’s preview of THUNDERBOLTS* and shows Alexi, Yelena, Walker and Ava tied up, and Bucky is on his cellphone while watching them.
Thank you @khululekile for inspiring me to finish this little drabble as we laughed about Walker trying to bond with Bucky over their wives, and Bucky wanting no part of that conversation, especially with the likes of him.
* * * * * * * * * *
Fleurdelouve Month 2024 | SarahBucky Bingo
ICYMI
🦾🧔🏻👩🏿🦱⛴️
Snowed in…elsewhere. by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones
Relationships: Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes | Rated: SFW
Summary: It’s going to be 70 degrees at home in Delacroix, Louisiana, but the two of them are snowed in…elsewhere.
”…and the snow is still falling, blanketing the Eastern Seaboard. All flights in and out of La Guardia have been cancelled for the past 18 hours and now, all flights out of DC are cancelled as well, leaving passengers stranded at…”
Sarah opens her eyes and sees the Weather Channel lady in front of a map with snowflake graphics covering a large swath of the East Coast, from above New York State, down past Washington DC.
The scrolling text lists airlines that canceled what flights coming into or leaving which airports.
There’s La Guardia…and there’s the flight they were supposed to be on yesterday afternoon. Today’s flights are also canceled.
She feels Bucky’s arm tighten around her and a scratchy face nuzzling her shoulder.
She sees their backpacks and carry-ons still waiting over by the door…and his warm hand opens on her breast as he kisses the nape of her neck.
“Molo, baby,” sleep still in his voice, making it all deeply rumbly in his chest. She feels it on her back.
Yesterday morning after breakfast, they learned that their late afternoon flight out had been canceled. All flights out were canceled.
She had a good cry, phoned the kids, and he brought his mattress into the living room area of the loft.
They made a blanket fort, where they spent the day reading, listening to music, dancing and napping.
After dinner, they watched movies, and he snuggled her closer. “This isn’t so bad, nandi. Better being here together like this than stuck, snowed-in at the airport. We’ll get home to Delacroix before Christmas Eve.”
“Mmmm, true, baby.”
And he kissed her. And kissed her.
And she kissed him right back.
They fell asleep…afterward…with Netflix’s Fireplace video on the TV, as snow fell on Brooklyn.
divider by @firefly-graphics
Glossary - nandi : sweetness, delightful (isiXhosa)
Molo: good morning (isiXhosa)
* * * * *
First posted in 2021. Also HERE on The AO3.
Thanks for reading. (And re-reading.)
ICYMI
The SarahBucky Americana Songbook by @btwxsixesandsevens
Summary: Having been flung away from Fort Lehigh at the end of Marvel What If…Zombies (S1, E5), Bucky takes the opportunity and triggers his own last mission: Going home.
Read for a new SarahBucky slow burn adventure set to the sounds of the blues, roots, and bluegrass. Featuring undead shamblers, survivor gangs, and cozy post-apocalyptic homesteading. Eventual sex, but that'll be clearly marked.
* * * * * * * * * *
Bucky walked.
At first he didn’t count the days, which made them blend together into the worst kind of blur. It was like being the Soldier again, moving from need to need, avoiding pain, following some directive in his brain: Go South. Go Home.
A feral miasma settled over him, punctuated by blossoms of base emotion. Pain. He’d broken a bone in his ribs when he landed. Hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Disorientation. Where exactly he’d landed was unclear. Not fear, though. Vigilance. Intense awareness that he was alone, and not alone. His super senses remained. He could hear the scratching shambling steps of the undead as they wandered the suburban streets. Could smell the rot of their bodies. His vibranium arm was still heavy, still faster and stronger than it had any right to be. Sometimes it glowed gently purple in the dim light, but he didn’t know why. Experience told him that scavenging for food in a formerly populated area was the fastest way to end his trip for good. So he skirted the major population areas and kept moving. Walking down the two-lane state highways littered with abandoned cars.
Continued on AO3…
Whats In a Name? A SarahBucky Halloween
by Nefertiri Jones aka @tllgrrl
Sarah Wilson/Bucky Barnes | Rating: Tags will inform when it gets spicy.
* * * * * * * * * *
Summary: “Say it again, please. I…need to…hear you say it, Sarah,” he whimpered, almost panting. “Please…”
* * * * * * * * * *
Nighttime…Somewhere in the backroads between Delacroix and New Orleans…
Sarah feels something. The timing is…off.
(Shit…I was supposed to take a look at this gahtdamn truck engine last week…)
She keeps driving, eyes ahead, watching the dodgy road and glancing in the rear view mirror.
Nothing…yet.
She hears a misfire. Then another, and the truck starts to hitch.
(Not here. Not here not here not here.
Sweet Jesus. Please. Not out here…)
Earlier in the Evening…The Wilson Home…
Rounding the side of the house, instead of trying to make it to front porch where he was probably lying in wait to intercept her, Sarah made a beeline straight to the trees past the training area where Shield training happens. The moon was almost full and high in the sky. Almost a blessing. Almost a curse.
Moon or none, it was still almost pitch black outside, but though the front porch light and living room lights were off, she could still more or less see where she was, and where she was going. She had enough darkness where she wouldn’t be automatically visible.
Maybe she could find a safe spot, remain hidden and keep and eye on anyone lurking. The darkness gave her time to figure out a plan.
In her haste, she had run out of the house forgetting to grab her car keys, that were still in the kitchen, hanging on the hook by the refrigerator.
There was no way she could get back in there safely.
Maybe she could go see if the car’s unlocked, slip inside and lock herself in, but she couldn’t be sure if someone was in the back yard or over by the car port.
Turning around to first make sure she hadn’t been followed, she then raced over to the giant willow that’s almost directly in front of the expanse of yard facing the front porch.
From here, she could see the whole front of the house, and anyone coming around either side.
If they were outside, going around to the backyard, she could make a mad dash, either for the front porch…or on to the driveway, and the road away from the property.
“How the hell did I get myself in this situation?” She mumbled under her breath.
Oh, right! It was the fucking wine.
When she was a little bit lit, she tended to get a little bit…”carefree”?
(Reckless? Without fucks to give?)
In fact, it was a dare and a bet on top of the wine that got her here: A grown-assed woman playing Hide and Seek…with a grown-assed man…outside her house…in the dead of night.
“Son of a bitch…” she hissed, feeling a nervous giggle bubble up from her chest.
Then, the night sounds stopped…and a shiver ran up her spine.
(What the…?)
[*…snap…*]
* * * * * * * * * *
To be continued…as 5 Senses
What’s in a Name? is now titled
5 (Five) Senses and continues on AO3.
An excerpt that was originally posted here for Halloween, is now a completed story!
Pt. I / Pt. II / Pt. III / Pt. IV
Happy All Hallows Evenin’!
Lady Be Good by @btwxsixesandsevens
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Special Guests: Yelena Belova, Alexi Shostakov, John Walker, Ava Starr | Rating: Teen & Up
Summary: Trouble comes home, or how Sarah Wilson met The Thunderbolts before they were The Thunderbolts.
* * * * * * * * * *
Bucky hated to do this. He knew it was a bad idea, like most of his ideas. But he also knew he had to get a secure message to the Hatut Zeraze and this was the only way he had to do that. In saving Yelena and the rest out in the desert, he’d barged his way into the middle of Val’s little plot. Now he had to report his progress.
“So, tell me again why we’re in the swamp? Is this Mississippi?” Ava asked from the far back right seat of the Hummer.
“Doesn’t Sam, I mean, Mr. Captain America, live down here?” prodded John from right behind him, leaning into the title like it was in air quotes. Bucky wanted to throttle the life out of him.
“Nice house. Mr. Captain America is doing well for himself,” pronounced Alexi from the back passenger seat. He craned his neck to see between the two seats. There was a house at the end of the road. Beyond the house, a pier, the Time Out Bench, the water.
Bucky missed this place like he missed his original arm, with a constant ache.
He prayed he wasn’t bringing trouble here, as he’d always promised Sarah he wouldn’t.
It was the middle of the day. The boys were in school. Sarah would be at the restaurant on the other side of town. There was no car in the curved drive. It was all clear.
“Yelena come with me.”
Continue on AO3.
* * * * * * * * * *
All the chaos and the feels, right here for you.
Memento by @tllgrrl aka nefertiri jones
memento (noun): an object or item that serves to remind one of a person, past event, etc.; keepsake; souvenir
* * *
The once ubiquitous cellphones that people carried were still around, but now useless.
If the battery was dead and could no longer hold a charge, all you had was a brick. Something from Before that had weight and substance, but…essentially, a paperweight.
If you still had your phone and could somehow charge it, you could at least access the folder holding your photos and videos. You had memories, if you could access them…for a little while.
Rick thought that maybe, just…maybe… it was fate that Jadis was waiting for him that morning at the Market or he would have missed...
* * *
Before the proprietor of Benjiro’s Portraiture and Art looked up from his work, he saw the well-worn boots of one of his regular customers.
“Rick,” he smiled warmly. “Good to see you again.”
“Hey, Benjiro.”
No How’s it goin’? or What’s up!! Always the same quick, acknowledging nod, the soft greeting and the small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I have something for you,” the young man said, putting away the piece he was working on and wiping his hands on his apron. “Just a minute,“ he called over his shoulder as he ducked behind the curtain masking off the rear of the stall, leaving Rick a little bit perplexed, but curious.
While he waited, his eyes wandered over the goods on display.
Mounted on the wall are different models of old cellphones. Dozens of them, found just about everywhere that the living were before the world tried to die back in…what was it, 20*10*? They were also found on some of the walking corpses that were herded into the culling facility located outside the walls of the City, riding in pockets of shirts, pants, jackets, skirts that hadn’t been torn or rotted out because the fabric was exposed to the elements and constant friction of movement.
In addition to Citizens of the CR bringing their personal devices to him, sometimes Consignees on furlough would bring to Benjiro the cellphones they scavenged as trade to have one engraved for themselves, or they’d bring their own long-dead device they continued to carry out of habit.
For some, they held onto these devices in the ”Just in Case” hope that one day soon, the phones would come back online and—
My wife…
My brother…
My mother…
My husband…
My sister…
My father…
My daughter…
My son…
Someone…anyone I love…loved…
is still alive, trying to find me…or I can find them.
Most of the time, people would see someone else’s etched phone and make their way to the Market and Benjiro’s stall, asking if he could turn a former technological wonder that once held hundreds of images, into something not too unlike the tiny portraits that people comissioned artists to hand-paint and mount into tiny frames, brooches to be worn, or inside of pocket watches to be carried as mementos, before modern photography made having images of loved ones accessible to almost anyone.
The finished pieces became like tokens, talismans, reminders of what the owners missed the most.
And it wasn’t just cellphones Benjiro turned into keepsakes:
Etched into the glass of a derelict iPad, there was the image of a little girl holding a toy bunny rabbit.
On an e-reader, a man wearing a baseball cap with NAVY on it was pictured holding a copy of “Lord of the Rings”.
And there’s even an ancient portable TV reminiscent of the one that Rick’s gramma watched her stories on when he was a little boy what seems like many many lifetimes ago.
On it is etched an image of a smiling woman standing in a field, holding a little girl.
Is she alive, he wonders. Are they okay? Are they still—
The artist returned and approached counter.
“So…” he said, handing the flannel-wrapped parcel to Rick. “I had an idea and tried something different.”
“You didn’t have to…how much do I—?”
“Oh, no charge! Please. It’s for you.”
“You really didn’t have to….”
The young man looked down and shrugged. “I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to get your boy right for you. I hope this is okay for now.”
Rick unwrapped the parcel, looked up at the artist and back down at the gift, and caught his breath.
Carved into the glass on the phone was an image of Michonne, with her locs a little longer than they were last he saw her, and a girl…maybe 7 or 8 years old with hair past her shoulders.
It was Judith. Wearing his sheriff’s hat that he’d given to 10 year old Carl at Herschel’s farm.
The hat Carl gave to his little sister the night before he…
Rick runs his fingers gently over the glass. Over the etched locs and the smooth area of his wife’s face, then over the hat and the face of his daughter.
He closes his eyes, memorizing the pattern.
He finally looks up at Benjiro. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this…”
It wasn’t the first time he went quiet in front of the artist.
Before he can find the words, the pager on his belt begins to beep.
Another furlough day is over. Time to leave the CR. A place where, unlike everyone else lucky enough to get in, he has no intention of staying because his family isn’t there.
“I know you’ll see them again, Rick,” Benjiro offered. “That writing there, next to your name? Mōsukoshi dake shinjite.
It’s Japanese, and it means ‘believe a little bit longer’.”
Rick rewraps the phone, and instead of putting it in his jeans pocket, he places it in the inside pocket of his Consignee jacket, on the left side, near his heart.
“Thank you. I appreciate what you did.”
“My pleasure, Rick. You take care. See you next time.”
“You too,” he nods, and makes his way back to the bus.
On the bus heading back to the outskirts of the City, he feels the portrait of his wife and daughter nestled in the pocket near his heart, and he thinks about falling asleep and waking up holding Michonne in his arms. The smell of her skin, her hair.
He thinks about Judith. Her smile and the way she laughs when he picks her up and runs with her.
He thinks about his friends and his community, his home.
He thinks about the old messenger bag he found while on a scavenger mission at the abandoned Mall located in the uninhabited sector of what used to be the City of Philadelphia.
And the broken lock on a security door leading outside behind the anchor store of that Mall.
And how his father would say, “Third time’s the charm.”
* * * * * * * * * *
If you got this far, thank you for the kindness of you indulgence.
Also posted HERE on AO3…with the moodboard.
UPDATE 10/24/25 - The graphic now features a shot of Michonne and Judith that is closer to the image on the cellphone. Thanks!
Let’s try this again now that I have both parts.
Endearments : by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones
Not a fanfic, but SarahBucky fan art inspired by 3 stories from The SarahBucky Songbook by @btwxsixesandsevens :
Black and Tan
Under a Blanket of Blue
What a Little Moonlight Can Do
After You’ve Gone by @btwxsixesandsevens
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Relationship: Sarah Wilson/James “Bucky” Barnes | Rated: M
Summary:
Sarah had to admit, as she contorted to put on the hotel uniform that was waiting for her in the back of the hired car, that she would have been a pretty good spy.
In the time since Bucky had decided to go undercover as a congressperson from New York, Sarah’s life had changed.
One thing remained.
Read at AO3
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Your Weekend Read: a wonderful combination of heat and heart. And heat.
Excerpt from a WIP Meeting The Team (working title) by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones
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The Mission: Stop Val. Save Bob.
Status: Done and done. (Almost.)
Bucky was thinking that as soon as he could get away for a just a minute, he was going to call her and tell her that he was coming home.
Not to visit. To stay.
Yelena’s got this, he thought. They don’t need me. Therapy? They absolutely need that, but, need me? Nah. I’m done. Soon as we hand Val over to the authorities and Senator Gary gets that impeachment hearing continued with testimony from Walker, Ava, Yelena, Alexi. Oh yeah, and Bob, as witnesses? I’m outta here. No more Congress. Leah’ll be a great House Rep. No more whatever that Sentry is or was with that Void and endless rooms of the worst things I’ve…no. Just back to Sarah, the kids, the Gulf, some properly seasoned food…and some Calm.
If she’ll have me.
Yep. The Mission was about to be Accomplished, and that’s what he was thinking when he saw soon-to-be former CIA Director Valentina de Fontaine yelling into her cellphone as she ducked behind a tarp blocking off part of the Watchtower’s construction area, so he and the team went after her.
“I’m going to kill that person,” Alexi growled.
“We can’t kill her,” Bucky tried to reason with him. “We have to take her in.”
“Well, I’d like to kill her,” Ava spat, quick-walking to catch up with Alexi and Bucky, who were the first ones to go through the tarp opening. Ava was on their heels, with Yelena, Walker…and Bob close behind.
One minute, they were closing in on Val, and the next minute—
“Are we Live?” That voice. Her voice. It was coming from…everywhere. “Great.”
(Speakers? Why is there a podium and some speakers set up at this construction site? Where’d all these reporters come from, and why is she giving a speech? What’s going on…?)
“For years, I have been working secretly to develop a new age of protection.”
While Walker, Yelena, and Alexi stood frozen, not knowing exactly what to do—and Ava looked like she was about to ghost the hell completely out—Bucky scanned the area, did a quick assessment, and figured that there must’ve been almost a hundred photographers, press, TV cameras, and bystanders on the street. More onlookers were peering down from the windows of surrounding buildings.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Val continued, “meet…The New Avengers.”
The air is filled with cheering and applause as cameras click and flash.
Yelenai: “Kakogo—”
Alexi: “—cherta.”
Ava: “Bloody what—“
Walker: “—the fuck?”
Bucky glared at the cheering crowd and photographers, looked over at the other…what did Alexi call them? Thunderbolts? All of whom appeared about as stunned as he felt. He also saw Bob, standing a bit off to the side, smiling and clapping with the rest of the crowd, as if moments ago he didn’t transform into an unstoppable, all-powerful…
And there was Val, looking like the cat that swallowed 5…no…6 canaries.
“Sisihogo sani?” Bucky mumbled under his breath. “What the Hell?”
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Kakogo cherta? - What the hell? (Russian)
Sisihogo sani? - What the hell? (Xhosa)
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This is an excerpt from WIP I’ve been working on since seeing Thunderbolts* because I have Thoughts on how—and why—Bucky Barnes became a member of the House of Representatives, and Sarah Wilson meeting the Thunderbolts* aka “New Avengers” or as Bucky calls them…well…he calls them a lot of things except the “Avengers”.
Sam’s not the only one in their feelings about that name.
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Coming soon. Presently simmering.
Thanks for reading!
