#winterfalcon for ts

[no-gorms]

Steve swooning at how strong Tony is in the suit, the strongest Avenger there is! (and Thor and Bruce are like, uhhh excuse me???) and he can FLY!! really no one compares (and Sam and Thor again are like 😑). And Steve might be team leader but Tony is like a global leader, he’s got so many people under his leadership who he’s responsible for, wow (Prince Thor 😑😑😑😑😑)

(Sam gets it, and gives back even better by listing how HIS super soldier is the best one in Tony’s earshot. Mostly it’s Thor who is (heh) sore until he figure out oh it’s a dumb flirting thing. Thor like being the best and strongest but he’s ok with people being clearing wrong because love is making them dumb)

(following up on this)

Ahahah yes, I dig it! Steve is 100% biased and ridiculous when it comes to Tony, sorry Thor! Also sorry to everyone else, but mainly Thor who needs some time to understand that it's not a literal thing and also not a slight against him personally. Anyway once he realizes what's going on he'll also remember the couple of times that Tony checked out his (Thor's) biceps and go AHHH, Captain Rogers must overcompensate, that makes sense. 😌

Sam and Tony fighting over who's the best supersoldier is also great! It's also funny in a different way because neither Steve nor Bucky care about being "better", but they love the justifications their partners give -- though Steve's at the stage where he's basking contentedly in everything Tony says about him (because he loves knowing how much Tony's into him), while Bucky is at the stage where he's like, Noooo Sam stop it aaahhhhh 😓

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #superhusbands for ts #winterfalcon for ts

[the-power-broker]

𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 » 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠 (𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛)

#someone wise said that if your otp cant's be describes by TS's songs #is it really your otp !! #true words #I did a thing anyway #💁‍♀️ #sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wildest dreams #tfatws #winterfalcon #dont let this flop friendo's #✌️ #ill do more #im having a roadtrip idea #instagram edit

[anactorya]

“This stuff is definitely alien. The SWORD researchers confirmed it.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, regarding the shelf of golden figurines they’d found stashed away in the latest former HYDRA base.

Bucky scowled at the collection hard, which Sam suspected meant he was actually trying not to laugh. “Then why do they look like--”

“Maybe it means something different on Planet Wherever,” Sam interrupted, as though he had any hope of stopping Bucky finishing his sentence. “Maybe they don’t even have the same anatomy as humans.”

“--dicks,” Bucky finished. “They look like dicks.”

Sam sighed and hoped they weren’t grossly insulting any alien cultures. “Yeah, I guess they kind of do.”

(Or, the story of how "No touching the alien artefacts, BUCKY THAT MEANS YOU" got added to Team Cap's mission guidelines.)

#sambucky #winterfalcon #my fic #sex pollen for ts #tweety pie and grumpy cat

[lascapigliata]

broke: zemo is the power broker. woke: sharon is the power broker. bespoke: that therapist i want to kill is the power broker

#just kill her a Little. for kicks! #tfatws for ts #winterfalcon the television show

[no-gorms]

It’s funniest if Bucky becomes the bird imo, because Sam? Loves birds. Growing up Bucky would tease him about it and claim to hate them. And now? Bucky is a big ass bird, and to Sam it seems like he’s found the one bird in the world that he hates and seems to hate him lol

And after everything is settled, Sam can like, demand Bucky tell him all about flying and Bird Things and Bucky rolls his eyes but does

(following up on this)

That is legit! Sam & Bucky's relationship is full of those kind of ironies so it does fit, and Bucky can be appalled but also thankful that he was at least transformed into a bird when it could've been anything else but at least this means that he can get Sam's attention. But then there's Sam getting baffled by this huge birb's weird behaviour and TRYING not to lose his temper because it's never the birb's fault, right. Then when Bucky transforms Sam's just like, OH 😑

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #winterfalcon for ts #sambucky for ts

[no-gorms]

“Practice, Practice, Practice” is like the end of Iron Man 2 with Tony and Rhodey, re-Swan Princess AU?

Oh! Also, Jarvis could play the role of Rogers in a Steve/Tony Swan Princess AU lol.

Or it could be a Sam/Bucky AU, Bucky is kidnapped by Zemo and is now bird. Sam trains to go get his current-beloved/former-pain-in-his-ass back, with a pre-serum Steve as his training buddy??? Or Steve and Tony are the turtle and frog lol

Ha, all good ideas! JARVIS would make a very snarky Rogers, yes, or maybe even Edwin Jarvis???? 

Though now you’ve mentioned it a SamBucky AU would also be amazing but come on Sam has to be the bird, I mean. Unless it’s from the angle where Sam, as a human, can understand birds and that’s how he figures out that the belligerent swan that’s randomly harassing him in the middle of a hunt is Bucky. (Steve and Tony can still have the side story as the turtle & the frog, where Tony is the frog who’s convinced he’s a prince.)

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #superhusbands for ts #winterfalcon for ts #sambucky for ts

[no-gorms]

just wanted to drop by to say, i love love love the ending of “gestures great and small”! “it’s good, they have time” is such a nice way to phrase it and i feel like that idea came through in the fic— like, there was chaos for t’challa when he accidentally mentioned the “courtship gift” thing but i loved how on sam’s part it just kind of slowly but calmly came together and made sense. they have time!!!! i thought it was a really sweet and gentle ending :) thank you for writing sambucky!!!!!!!!

Yesss they have time! They’re in a good place but also they’re both confident about that shared good place -- Sam knows Bucky’s content to be there and Bucky knows that Sam’s content for Bucky to stay, and the relationship doesn’t need to shift for both of them to be happy (though it will). Sam is legitimately calm as he steps forward. Thank you!!! 💖

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #winterfalcon for ts

[no-gorms]

*Sam/Bucky as Steve’s BFFs that want him to live his best, healthiest, and happiest life* “I’m really proud of how Steve has gotten more comfortable expressing his emotions and being open, his progress is really something.”

*Also Sam/Bucky as Steve’s BFFs that have to listen to him talk about Tony ALL THE TIME* “If he starts crying over how pretty Tony’s eyes are AGAIN istg”

(following up on this)

Steve would be intolerable either way, so he might as well be intolerable AND happy. So Sam & Bucky tell themselves, and each other.

Anyway the more that Sam&Bucky complain, no matter how subtly (even if just sharing a look across the room) the more that Steve finds aspects of Tony to go on and on AND ON about. Sam & Bucky can’t even retaliate by being mushy with each other because Steve (and Tony) barely even notice.

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #superhusbands for ts #winterfalcon for ts

[no-gorms]

Hello 😊 Will you ever consider writing sambucky? And if you do (hopefulllyyyy) what would the look like?

I already really want to! And I almost have! But I’m not yet confident enough to have a go at their voices, and I’m hoping for more characterisation stuff via F&WS (whenever....that.... comes out) to get me into the groove.

My emotional kinks are simple, I’ll probably go for odd couple shenanigans with failboat attempts at courtship plus “HDU make fun of him, only *I* can do that” on top.

#scaramouche answers asks #avengersnewb #winterfalcon for ts

[no-gorms]

I just finished Half Agony Half Hope this morning. It was so wonderful! I loved it! Something I always notice and love in your stony fics is how well you write the side characters/ other avengers in such a fun way, even though it’s limited. I’m curious, do you ship any other avengers together?

Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it, and yay for the side characters! I do prefer writing fics that are very tightly focused on the main chars/pairing, but for MCU in particular the ensemble with such distinct voices and personalities is a fun bonus chocolate sprinkles on top thing to play around with. 

As for ships I have passive neutral-to-positive feelings for most of them, but a ship that I actively ship in a OH NO THIS IS EXCITE kind of way is:

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #superhusbands for ts #winterfalcon for ts #verse: half agony half hope

[the-power-broker]

I Once Believed, Love Would Be

Burning Red

But It's Golden

Like Daylight

-Daylight : Taylor Swift.

[Just “ my love was as cruel as the cities I lived in”,“There are so many lines that i've crossed unforgiven, i'll tell you the truth but never goodbye”and“I dont wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away), I dont wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you (things will never be the same)”,“ been sleeping in a 20 70 years long night ” and "maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down,maybe i've stormed out of every single room in this town” “I once believed love would be (black and white).....I once believed love would be (burning red).” and my favourite headcanon ‘ singing in your bed’ bickering over who is pronouncing it wrong, too tired after mission to dance, just lying on their back, staring at the ceiling with a phone between them playing something with a broken speaker, their hands touching, and at a particularly cheesy line Bucky would turn to look at Sam and find him asleep ]

#TS edit #taylor swift edit #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #sambucky edit #tfatws #MCU #winterfalcon

[no-gorms]

Does the famously snarky couple of Sam/Bucky give Steve shit for turning into a huge sap once he and Tony start dating? Cuz like, Sam and Bucky are dating and they still insult each other like how they did when they were frenimies, but Steve and Tony were famous for their bickering, now it’s at best sarcastic banter with light scolding as times.

(We are not talking about real, actual arguments, cuz when Steve and Tony have a real fight it ruins EVERYONE’S day. Them fighting can and has torn families and like countries apart at worst. That doesn’t count)

Steve don’t care he’s gonna wax poetic about Tony’s eyes and tease him about his height at worst. Steve’s perspective is that he doesn’t wanna waste time bickering anymore, gotta show Tony how much he like him.

(I mean yeah some snarky banter is great but he can make Tony blush AND speechless sometimes and that’s way better)

YES EXACTLY. Sam and Bucky never miss a chance to mess with Steve, and Steve going 110% all-in gooey over Tony once they’re together gives them material to last like five lifetimes. 

Sam thinks that he and Bucky must have the same expression on their faces when Steve guides Tony away to the other side of the room, away from their heckling. As is often the case these days, Steve has one hand on Tony’s lower back, and Tony’s head is tilted towards Steve’s as Steve whispers another endearment. Well, that was probably meant as a whisper, but the word is clearly and painfully audible.

Bucky huffs. “You never call me beautiful.”

“I thought it was uncool to lie to each other,” Sam says.

For a beat Bucky is silent. But then shuffles closer to press his arm against Sam’s. He doesn’t even roll his eyes, either.

“More like, breathtaking,” Sam says. “Awe-inspiring.”

“Sam.”

“I dare not look at thee lest I go blind.”

There are a few ways to immediately shut Sam up, and Bucky picks the one best suited for a semi-public setting: he takes Sam’s hand in his and squeezes. Sam grins at his audience of one, because obviously he and Bucky are the true winners of the romance game here.

“You ever talk like that again,” Bucky says, “and I’m going to assume you’ve been brainwashed.” 

#scaramouche answers asks #anonymous #winterfalcon #superhusbands for ts

[anactorya]

“So I figure we got two choices. Give ourselves away and get locked up, or kicked off the ship without the kid.” Sam lets his hand drop lower, toying with a belt loop. His insides do a nervous little swoop, even though this is just Bucky, just them--or maybe because it is. Shit, freefall is easier. “Or we play along.”

Helping out the Guardians on an undercover mission, Sam and Bucky end up in a situation they didn't plan for.

Here's the first of the two fics I ended up writing for Roleplay Flash exchange. It's bad guys made them do it, hence the dubcon warning, but with a happy ending.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #my fic #dubcon for ts

[anactorya]

What Doesn’t Kill You (2200 words, PG-13, hospitalization, grief/mourning, mild horror)

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Halloween bingo. Prompt: witching hour. Also on AO3.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Sam’s heard it a hundred times, even believed it a few of them.

Right now, clutching the edges of his hospital chair tight enough to leave fingernail imprints in the scratchy plastic, watching Bucky waxen and still and breathing through a tube, he’s pretty sure it’s a bunch of bullshit. Because he’s fine, got a few scrapes and bruises and a knock on the head that didn’t even give him a concussion, nowhere near death’s door, and he feels weaker and more useless than he ever has. Worn out like an old dishtowel. You could hold him up to the light and see right through him.

He keeps thinking back to Steve. All the hours Sam spent sitting at his bedside after they found him half-drowned on the bank of the Potomac, waiting for him to wake up. He held it together pretty good back then, but this is different. The doctors keep saying shit like minimal brain activity and invasive life support and limits of enhanced healing, and Sam knows what that stuff means. Bucky isn’t going to wake up.

In a way, it’s more like the day Riley died, except the whole thing’s happening in slow motion and Sam gets a front row seat to every excruciating inch of that spiral towards the ground. Another person Sam loved, gone before he ever plucked up the courage to say how he felt, because he can fall backwards out of planes and leap off buildings and go toe-to-toe with alien megalomaniacs, but when it comes to letting someone else in on his heart, he’s a fucking coward.

So, yeah. Sam’s lost people before. Riley, his parents, Nat. Steve, who never even said a real goodbye. Karli, who could’ve been good if he’d gotten through to her a little earlier. But this might be the one that finally breaks him.

A hand finds his shoulder, startling him out of his reverie. It’s Rhodes, his face set in a carefully neutral expression that makes Sam want to say something shitty just to wipe it off.

He doesn’t. Rhodes has always been good to him, better than he has to be, and the guy knows what it’s like. He lost a best friend too.

Except, no, he doesn’t know, not really. Nobody does. Sam’s never told them.

“Sam,” Rhodes says, heavily, “you’ve been here for three days, and I hate to say it, but you’re starting to smell like it.”

Sam shakes his head, breathes into his hands.

“At least take a shower, sleep in an actual bed. The doctors–”

“The doctor told me to contact his family, make arrangements,” he hears himself say. His voice is very distant, very flat. “I’m his family.”

“Pepper has people,” Rhodes offers. “If you don’t wanna deal with that stuff, you don’t have to.”

A flash of anger burns in his chest–at the way everyone’s talking about this like a done deal, like it’s already over, and at the same time, at the thought that if he has to organise a, a fucking funeral for Bucky he might want to be hands-off about it, not make sure himself that everything gets done right. It’s a tangled, inchoate mess of feeling, none of which makes it out his mouth. His hands are shaking.

Rhodes squeezes his shoulder. “Go home, Sam. Be with your family.”

He leaves, and the only sound left in the room is Bucky’s mechanical breathing. The bruises on his face have faded away, healing where the damage inside of him couldn’t and leaving him looking unfairly normal. Like a still photograph of himself, except for all the damn equipment keeping him alive.

Sam got wake up you asshole and you’re not allowed to leave me here alone out of his system days ago, and now all he does is reach for Bucky’s hand and squeeze it. Bucky doesn’t squeeze back, doesn’t react at all, not even a flutter of an eyelid, and after a moment Sam lets his hand fall back to his side.

#

Louisiana means you grow up knowing magic’s real. Sam knew it long before he ever met Wanda or Strange, or saw an alien god opening portals to another world on the TV news. It isn’t some big mystery, and it’s probably the same anyplace you can head out on the water–or up a mountain or into the deeps of a forest–and not see a living soul for hours on end. It just is. You know there are things out there, strange and old and probably best left alone, so you avoid them unless you’re desperate.

Sam’s been desperate before, or thought he was. He got halfway out here after Riley died, before he remembered he preferred physics to folklore and turned the hell around.

Tonight, he isn’t so sure.

There’s a post sticking up from the bank at the edge of the water, probably the remnant of an old dock that’s long since crumbled into the water. Some people claim it’s the signpost of a drowned crossroad, though that doesn’t make a lick of sense geographically.

Either way, what the rumours say is it’s a place to get help when all human means have failed. Come out here in the hour after midnight–the witching hour, when the veil between worlds is thinnest. Take a photograph and a drop of your blood, bury them beside the post, and something will come out of the water and help you. For a price.

Now, Sam scrapes away damp earth with his bare hands, Carlos’s borrowed boat bobbing in the water behind him. Hurried out here so fast he forgot to bring tools. Lucky Carlos left his penknife in there.

The photograph is from Torres’s Polaroid phase. Ankara, he thinks, after a mission. Bucky’s usual scowl has slipped as he crouches to pet one of the ubiquitous street cats (It doesn’t matter if he’s got fleas, Sam, they can’t bite vibranium!) and Sam’s in the foreground, smiling way brighter than he’d realised at the time.

Sam bisects it carefully with the penknife, making sure no part of Bucky is visible on the section he presses into the ground, and slips the other half into his back pocket. Then he grits his teeth and draws the blade across his palm, watches the blood spatter his sunlit face.

After that, he waits.

It’s almost peaceful out here for a while, just the insect noises of the night and the plashing of the water and the sound of his own breathing. The minutes tick down toward the end of the witching hour, and he almost convinces himself this isn’t gonna work.

And then.

It’s like the air and the silence thicken, a veil drawn between him and the rest of the world. Each breath feels a little harder, the night heat heavy on his skin and a chill somewhere beneath it. A sound reaches his ears from the edge of the water. A quiet splash, and a drag of wet fabric, and a shape resolves itself out of the darkness.

She’s like the swamp made flesh. Water-weed green and dripping from head to toe, fingers slender and reaching as cypress roots, eyes feu-follet balls of light in the mossy mass of her face.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice is a wet rattle like a dying breath, the sympathy in it startlingly out-of-place. “I could feel your pain miles away.”

Sam grits his teeth and draws himself to his feet. He forces himself to look her in the eyes, but there’s a wrongness about the light that burns there that makes it an effort, keeps making him want to lower his gaze. “Can you help him?” he demands. “Bring him back?”

“Help him?” says that voice. “Or help you?” Her hand comes to rest over his heart, skinny fingers splayed, and he tries not to flinch. “He isn’t the one suffering.”

His throat feels tight. “Does it matter?”

A sludgy croak of a sound. It takes Sam a moment to realise it’s her laugh. “Maybe not.” She regards him steadily. “But you’ve survived worse than this. You’d survive it again.”

It’s the kind of statement that ought to be encouraging, but the way she says it, it’s perfectly neutral, like she’s observing that there’s rain on the way, or it’s Tuesday.

The thing is, she’s right. Sam knows she is. He pulled himself back together, piece by painful piece, after Riley died. He learned to fly solo. He rebuilt his life after the Blip and talked himself around to trusting his own judgement after Steve waltzed off to the past. Now, he’s gotten used to having Bucky at his side, in his life, watching his six in the field and teasing him over dinner, but he could learn to live without it. Fly a little more carefully, trust Torres to have his back, spend more time with Sarah and the boys and the neighbours to fill the silence. He’d be almost whole again, eventually.

But godfuckingdammit, he is sick of being strong.

“Didn’t come out here for daily affirmations,” he says. “Can you help me or not?”

She inclines her head. “You can’t claim I talked you into this.”

“So you’ll do it?” He takes a deep breath. “What’s your price?”

She shrugs, trailing a hand down his arm and crouching to dig into the ground where he buried his photograph. It’s damp and dirt-stained when she unearths it, but she smiles anyway. “You’ll owe me. That’s all.”

“Owe you what?” But even as he asks, he knows the answer doesn’t matter. He’ll promise anything if it means a do-over, a chance to get it right this time, say all the things he should’ve said to Riley way back when, the things he should’ve said to Bucky months ago.

“I’ll know when I need it.” She tucks Sam’s photograph away somewhere in the folds of her garment. “Seal it with a kiss.”

Her mouth tastes like swamp water, brackish and bitter. Sam swallows down bile. And at the same time, he feels a creeping sensation like the water itself wrapping around him, twining roots around his heart, pulling him under like a gator’s death roll. He fights for breath, lungs filling up with it, tears springing to his eyes, darkness crowding his vision.

As abruptly as it crept up on him, it’s gone. He sucks in a huge breath, bending over, hands on his thighs, and when he comes back to himself, she’s gone.

#

By the time he gets back to town, he has three missed calls. One from the hospital, one from Rhodes, and one from–

His heart leaps in his chest. He’s on a plane to DC within the hour.

At the specialist treatment facility, nobody stops him to ask for ID or what he’s doing here. He finds Bucky sitting up in bed, drinking orange juice through a straw and looking bitchy about it. His face lights up like Christmas when Sam walks in, that wide unashamed smile, and Sam aches with realising how much he’s missed it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says.

Bucky shakes his head. “Rhodes told me the docs thought I was a goner,” he says. “Sent you home to plan my funeral. Don’t know that I could’ve stood being here, either.”

Sam exhales dizzily. “Yeah, well. Shoulda known better with your stubborn old ass. What’d you do, annoy the shit out of the Grim Reaper until he got sick of you?”

“Something like that. Guess I gotta thank that shitty knock-off serum for something, huh.” There’s an edge to his voice, like always when this stuff comes up, and Sam gets it, he does. Owing your life to something you hate is complicated.

He tries not to think about how much more complicated it would be if Bucky knew the truth.

“Hey,” he says instead, “don’t think you get to make a habit of this.” He tries to sound stern, but the tears pricking at his eyes make it hard. “Three days sitting on the crappy plastic chairs they got in here, I thought my ass was gonna fall off.”

Bucky smiles up at him, crooked, a little looser. “Now that’d be a real tragedy.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat, heartbeat skittering. But shit, if he’s in the hole to some creepy-ass swamp goddess for who knows what kind of favour, or maybe his immortal soul, he’s damn well gonna make it count.

So he ignores the plastic chair and perches on the edge of the mattress, close enough to smell antiseptic and orange juice and feel Bucky’s warmth through his hospital gown.

(Roots wrapped around his heart, foul water on the back of his tongue, shapes moving in the depths.)

San leans in, telegraphing his intent, Bucky’s eyes fastened on his mouth. Presses their lips together, soft.

“About damn time.” Bucky sighs into the kiss, resting his forehead against Sam’s; and after a moment, Sam tastes only oranges.

#my fic #sambucky #winterfalcon #sambuckyhalloween2021 #tfatws #hospitalization for ts #grief for ts

[lascapigliata]

I once saw someone say they were into a jewish Steve Rogers but look he objectively has to be goyish because no jew would be able to withstand the GUILT of going and living some white picket fence life like While his best friend is being literally tortured and brainwashed so that’s that #confirmed

#amazing how one movie torpedoed an entire character for me #post cap 3 cap has zero rights #look i didnt see endgame im just having a very delayed reaction now that the winterfalcon show shooting pics are popping up #tbd #avengers for ts #endgame steve i WILL kill you