Posts Tagged 'reconstruction'


sebastian stan spam [part 15 – ∞]

Reconstruction sneak preview as you stare at the above images of Stephanie’s best guy!

Because Bucky’s an absolute popinjay, sometime between where he’d more or less ordered her out of the medical tent and away from him and now, he’s gone and found a clean uniform and scrubbed up. His face is clean and red from cold and cold water, and he’s even found a razor somewhere to trim up the worst of his whiskers. His brassy hair is still a touch long but Steph likes it this way, and she reaches up — automatic — to run her fingers through the strands at the base of his neck, at the knob of his spine, smiles at how he shivers a little and leans into her touch like a cat.

“You do,” she tells him quietly, looking and looking and looking at his face, at his throat, at all of him she loves so well. “You look good, Buck.”

There’s something that looks trapped and lost in Bucky’s eyes, that she sees because she sees all of him all the time. He swallows too hard, too fast, and he clutches at her — not jealously, like before — but like he needs her, like he’s holding on so he can stay standing, and Stephanie presses herself close and knows he’ll understand what she’s saying, what her body’s saying: I can carry you; I can hold this weight.

“Yeah?” Bucky says, finally, after too long a silence. “Couldn’t embarrass my best girl in front of her new friends, could I? Not after you came all this way.”

Stephanie thinks that there’s nothing Bucky could do that she wouldn’t forgive him for, that she wouldn’t see beyond, learn how to love him in spite of. But that’s too much to say in front of other people, maybe it’s too much to say at all, so she just smiles at him tight-lipped, to keep her confessions close, and leans in to kiss him, close the space between them. Now, he tastes like Colgate and smells like Lava soap, all the sourness of fear and sickness washed away, and even this close — still shaking the adrenaline and fear out of her system — Stephanie thinks if she hadn’t found him half dead on the table, she’d never know that he’d barely made it, that she’d barely held onto him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky’s murmuring, into her mouth when he breaks for air, then into the shell of her ear when he drags her in, presses her face into his neck so she has somewhere to hide her expression. “I’m okay.”


the NYTimes article ‘It Began With Secret Pickles’ reminds me of Bucky and Stephanie. I can’t include links otherwise I would!

Hah! You know what, Twentysomething told me that, too! 

In case you guys haven’t read it, the NYT ran a marvelous article about a love that survived the war, involves a boy named Bucky, secret pickles, and they met when they were 15 and 13 and IT IS SO SWEET GOD DAMN IT OLDS ARE SO SWEET UGH SOMEONE GET ME SOME FUCKING INSULIN. 

It’s a great read if you want to believe in love and feel a compelling certainty you will die alone, unmourned, ignored by a pack of wild dogs because you drank so much diet Coke the preservatives in your body are poisonous and animals, being wiser than people, sense this innately while I continue to drink diet Coke. Just hypothetically. And stuff.


Hello, nerds. Guess what I’m finally working on again.

A sneak peak since at least 40 percent of you have all been so patient!

Bucky wears his door-to-door salesman smile the whole time he’s in Stark’s presence: too wide, too white, and has the shine like the tang of a blade. He keeps an arm looped around Stephanie’s waist, grabby, and she can see the muscles and veins in Bucky’s forearm straining as he shakes Howard’s hand.

“Howard, this is Bucky — Barnes,” Steph says, and hopes he hears, please don’t antagonize him like she actually means.

Howard just smiles like a jerk and shakes Bucky’s hand. “Barnes, nice to finally put a name to the legend I almost got shot down over,” he says.

Stephanie puts a hand over her face.

“Shot down,” Bucky repeats carefully, and his fingers tighten on Steph’s hip.

“And we met, previously, Sergeant Barnes,” Peggy sweeps in, because she’s an angel. “You’re looking much better.”

Hey so I updated the link to my Ask function! 

I wish you would write a fic where after waking up in the present Steph reads all the speculation and history written about her romance with Bucky and the public perception/lack of memory of her preserum. Ps. I hope things are going well for you and congrats on the Secret Wars!!

Thanks! I’m v v v excited about Secret Wars!

As for Stephanie seeing how people have interpreted her history, Stephanie is going to see all of it once she’s recovered from the ice, and it’s actually a major piece of what drives her choices in the modern day. 😀 HA HA HA THIS JUST REMINDED ME THAT I HAVE TO WRITE THE WINTER SOLDIER INTO THAT STORY HA HA HA /thud

i wish you would write a fic where you expand on your girl!steve universe and talk more about outside povs on preserum!steph and bucky’s relationship. your treatment of sarah rogers and that one girl who had a crush on Bucky were just amazing <333

No worries, bro! Reconstruction will have more outsider point of view on them as it progresses so you know, hold onto your butts and all. 

Reconstruction sneak peak

I’m posting this so everybody will stop asking me when I’m updating, which will be when my life stops crashing down in fucking flames around me. But until them, let the below sustain you:

A less-examined aspect of the Lady Liberty mythos is her well-documented relationship with SSR technological wizard Howard Stark. While we have almost no (known) paper trail between Liberty and Barnes, we know she and Stark collaborated extensively throughout the war. We have this evidence only because Stark kept their correspondence, pressed into pages of engineering manuals — presumably with the assumption that if compromised, he’d be forced to destroy all of it anyway, and any fire he set would take the letters as well. Instead, they were part of a bulk WWII document declassification made by SHIELD in the early 1980s that was subsequently surrendered to the National Archives, and which provided a wealth of insight into Lady Liberty’s critical role in information acquisition for the Allied forces.

Liberty and Stark have an affectionate, lived-in banter. Given Stark’s romantic reputation it’s difficult to avoid speculation that their professional relationship extended to something more intimate. While there’s no evidence in the historical record to confirm this hypothesis, there’s plenty of fodder for people who want to believe.

“Howard,” Liberty starts one of her notes, dashed off in beautiful penmanship on a scrap of paper with coordinates and crosshatches on the back. “Looks like we just missed you. Test run went well, and despite my reservations I’m leaving details from the run with that ‘lab assistant’ of yours. You know I think she’s genuinely illiterate? Related: Clarissa says there’s no amount of rich that could excuse your sauciness, so I guess not all good Southern girls like a troubled genius.”

In reply, in Stark’s architectural hand and jotted in crushed letters beneath Liberty’s original note, was this:

“Eva doesn’t need to read she’s good at handing me things. I mean that literally. Also, Dollface, stop it with the teasing you’re breaking my heart here. Any time you want to upgrade you let me know and I’ll be there with jet boots on.”

Kept separate to this note was a likely unrelated telegram from Liberty to Stark, but the content feels appropriate to include at this juncture:


Pune, Hurley. Boy Genius. New York: Random House, 2003. Print.


East Coast Gazette has a terrible editorial focus and tends to use a lot of ALL CAPS but TOTALLY NOT BECAUSE OF HARRY POTTER. Stories in progress as well as snapshots will be listed in the "box full of snapshots" below, website archive for stories and assorted tomfoolery is glitterati.

recs (on