Bite Sized Bits of Fic

any, any, freedom

From:

killing-kurare.livejournal.com

"The smell of freedom"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31368695

Edited Date: 2021-05-18 06:30 am (UTC)

From:

Thanks so much. This is my first Shawshank fanfic. I really enjoyed it.

From:

killing-kurare.livejournal.com

This is also the first time I wrote in that fandom, but the first thought when I read the prompt was actually poor Andy ^^
I'm happy you liked it!

From:

very cool and I did

From:

any, any, gift giving

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Christmas, 1944

“Bucky. Hey. Buck.”

Bucky was slow to turn, his wool coat drawn up around his ears, bright red with cold. His hands, though, were steady on his rifle, and he swept his eyes back and forth with efficient precision before giving Steve his attention.

“What’s the plan, Cap?” Bucky asked, sardonic twist of his lips and the dying cigarette hanging from them almost — almost — masking the fact that, like the rest of the tiny band of men trapped up in these hills, he was aching with cold, hunger, and fear.

“Dugan and Jones just reported back. They say that our troops up ahead have broken the barricade. We’ll leave in a couple of hours, slip through the line after dark. The trucks are waiting for us.”

Steve waited a moment. Sometimes knowing Bucky as well as he did was a source of distress as well as comfort; now, his heart was twisting painfully in his chest. He knew that, beneath the bravado and the swagger and the unwavering public displays of faith — faith in Steve, faith in Captain America — he knew that beneath all that, Bucky had resigned himself to the idea that this was it. After a year of near-misses, lucky breaks, and frankly miraculous successes, this was going to be the one the history books would call The Howling Commandos’ Final Mission. Assuming the history books remembered them at all.

“Did you hear me, Buck? We made it.”

Steve could see that the truth of it was starting to creep through the cracks in Bucky’s mental armor. With trembling fingers, Bucky took the cigarette from between his lips, a long line of ash falling down to blend with the trampled snow between their feet. Grinning up at him — up at him, jeez, it’d been over a year and sometimes seeing Bucky look up at him still threatened to knock the wind out of Steve’s lungs, remind him what it’d felt like to be asthmatic — Bucky waited a beat, then blew a cloud of smoke into Steve’s face.

“Took ‘em long enough,” Bucky said, still grinning while Steve coughed, adding, “Punk,” when Steve stole the cigarette from between his numb fingers and took the final drag.

They stood in silence for a long handful of minutes, shoulder to shoulder looking out at the frozen forest stretching as far as they could see in all directions. Steve thought about telling Bucky he’d been considering it too...wondering what it all meant, struggling to make peace with the idea that these trees and hills might bear witness to their last stand.

Thought about it, but decided against it. Sharing their deepest secrets while snugged up safe in a fort made of blankets and couch cushions was one thing; out here, he had to be Captain America at all times, to all of these men. He couldn’t ask Bucky to carry more of a burden than any of the rest of them.

“So, hey,” Bucky said abruptly, that way he had of...not so much breaking the silence, as setting it aside, always knowing when a moment had stretched on long enough. “Since we don’t appear to be dying today, I’ve got something for you.”

From:

“For me? Why?” Steve asked, just as stupid and awkward as that sixteen-year-old kid in the Brooklyn back alley. Bucky rolled his eyes and dug through the pockets of his coat, coming up at last with a small lump wrapped in newspaper and tied with twine. Steve took it, turned it over in his hands, making no move to unwrap it. Bucky rolled his eyes again and shoved at Steve’s hand before shaking his last cigarette out of its pack and making a show of hunting through his pockets for matches so Steve could unknot the twine under a guise of privacy.

“I asked Her Majesty to pick it up for me, guess she got it when she went to London last month,” Bucky was saying, his voice seeming to come from a long way off as Steve turned the little leatherbound book over in his hands. “Slipped it to me right before we left. I dunno...guess I just missed seeing you with...seems like you never used to leave home without...anyway.”

Steve looked up from the creamy blank pages of the sketchbook and forced his hand to relax around the bundle of pencils before he snapped them all in half. Bucky was smoking with his eyes fixed determinedly on a point a couple of hills over, and Steve was torn between gratitude that he wasn’t witnessing whatever expression was on his face, and wishing that Buck would turn and look at him. After a long moment hanging suspended between disbelief and a kind of absurd gratitude that made him feel like he might actually break down and weep, Steve bowed his head and said simply, “Thank you, Bucky.”

Buck’s easy smile when he turned his head at last, the strength of his grip on Steve’s shoulder, Steve was grinning too, swaying as Bucky jostled him with an arm hooked around his neck, tucking the sketchbook into his pocket and saying, “I didn’t get you anything, though, didn’t want the other guys to get jealous,” just because he knew it would make Bucky laugh.

It did, the sound better than silver bells on city street corners. Their frosty breath commingled and fogged the air in front of their faces and Bucky’s freezing cold fingers squeezed the back of Steve’s neck once more. “Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas, Punk.”

“You too, Jerk.”

From:

evil-little-dog.livejournal.com

Awww, that's such a sweet fic.

From:

thank you!

From:

thank you for my story. I love it.

From:

I'm so glad, and thanks for your comment on AO3 too <3

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You're welcome

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Prodigal Son, any, fighting the good fight

From:

Any, any, the hardest part about immortality is watching family/friends grow old and die.

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Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG-1, John Sheppard (no McShep, please), during The Return Sheppard is captured by a Goa'uld and forced to become a Host, but the symbiote turns out to be an undercover Tok'ra.

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Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis, Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, Sheppard is on loan to SG-1 because one of their Milky Way allies needs someone with the ATA Gene.

From:

Any, any, your real name is ___?!

From:

templefugate.livejournal.com

AJ dropped his spoon into his bowl of cereal with enough force to send milk and soggy corn flakes sloshing over the sides. "Wait, your real name is James?"

Bucky blinked. "Yes?" He cleared his throat. "Yes," he repeated. If there wasn't any force behind his words, what reason should the kid have to believe what he said?

Though really, why shouldn't he? For better or worse, Bucky was a public figure. He had his own Wikipedia page - ten thousand words long at that! All the kid needed was to do was hit up Google to find out this kind of stuff.

Sam looked up from his own breakfast, an eyebrow raised. "Weren't you paying attention at The Smithsonian?"

"It's not like he read any of the signs." Cass said.

"Young man!" Sam said. "You can't say those kind of things about your brother."

"So what am I supposed to do, lie?" He rolled his eyes, his gaze turning from his brother to uncle.

Sam hadn't raised his voice earlier, but Bucky had fought in enough wars to know a growing fight when he saw one.

"Hey," he said, holding his right arm out and upward across the table, palm out. "There are better things to fight over than me."

Sam snorted. "Wish you'd told Steve that."

"Maybe you need to see Raynor too, Sam. I think she'd be concerned if she knew you couldn't let the past go." He shook his head. What was he doing letting himself get dragged into this? "But that's hardly the point." He looked up, shooting the whole table a smile so wide that the sides of his cheeks ached. "No, AJ, my mother didn't name me after a deer. If you ever check my legal documents, you'll see me listed as 'James Buchanan Barnes'."

"James Buchanan?" AJ repeated, wide-eyed.

Sam looked straight at him. "It doesn't sound too different from Arnold Jeremiah to me."

Edited Date: 2021-05-16 04:38 pm (UTC)

From:

Thank you for the fill!

I'm sure Bucky gets that a lot when he's required to give his real name. ;)

From:

Julie and the phantoms , Reggie/ray ,grow as we go

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True blood, Eric northman/Jason stackhouse, ,life expectancy is dumb

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The Falcon and the winter soldier, Joaquin Torres / bucky Barnes , better then ever

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The boys, Kevin The deep/homelander, the other half of me

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