Pohadka



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “You’ve got, like.” The witch taps his own chest, center mass, with the slice of pizza. “An infection, kinda. In your soul, I guess. Whatever you want to call it. Nobody wants to call it magic.”

    “I don’t have any magic,” Bucky says, immediately. He’s not a witch.

    “Sure,” the witch says. “Well, that thing you have that connects you to Steve, the part of you that can form bonds to other people. That part of you. It’s fucked.”

    “Fucked,” Bucky repeats. He wonders if that’s a medical or magical diagnosis.

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    30 Oct 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Super sweet. Super fun. Favorite reads file

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The pictures leak on a lazy off-season Sunday, in that muddled bit of midafternoon Clint never knows what to do with when he isn’t training. He curls up with Lucky on the couch and naps through the end of his whole damn life. And that, honestly, is pretty much perfect.

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    17 Sep 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    So yeah, I hate baseball. But I love me some Learning-to-Cope Barton and this one is pretty much perfect in that category.

  3. Rec *

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    02 May 2023

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Love. All the love. How had I not bookmarked this before?

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    It’s called the Grey Space; a patch of skin marking you as blessed and the first sign you have a soulmate. Steve Rogers didn’t have one when he crashed into the ice. But he did when he woke up in the future. The second sign is the Sense, a sharing of one the senses to help soulmates find each other. Steve’s Sense, taste, is rare, but he loves a challenge and a soulmate is a gift from the Fates. Except instead of a blessing, it’s a curse, since his soulmate is a dick.
    Bucky Barnes loves food and a homecooked meal is something he cherishes. When his Grey Space starts to itch, Bucky can’t help his excitement, since the Sense he and his soulmate share is taste. But not for long. Whoever he’s bound to has the blandest diet in the world, ignoring all Bucky’s messages. After weeks of putting up with tasteless food, Bucky decides to strike back.
    WARNING: This story contains spicy food, the world’s smelliest fish, Steve sucking on socks, sexy selfies, lube bombs, the Furnadoes, trouble-making grandparents and Sam not being paid enough.
    It also contains hot-chocolate, love between brothers, realizing found family is as vital as the one you were born with, and lots of laughter as Steve and Bucky find their happy ending.

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    06 Feb 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    forkin hilarious.

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    "Steve, if there's a time when you don't have to worry about anything, it's now. I’m a Herald-Trainee, Winter's a Companion. You're exhausted. Just…trust us. We'll get you home safely."  

    For a long moment, a moment in which Bucky felt gifted with sudden insight into who Steve was, he thought it could go either way. Then Steve smiled, this one warm and bright and just for Bucky, and it raced through him, lodging inside him like a miniature sun. "Guess I'd be a bit ungrateful to say no." 

    Some Heralds change the world. Some Heralds save it. Some Herald's names are woven through the very fabric of Valdemar. But most don't, and most aren't. Most Heralds simply do their duty, their Companions by their sides, their stories recorded in dusty Crown records not Bardic ballads.

    Steve and Bucky figured they were most Heralds—no ballads required, thanks—and they were mostly right. What they didn't account for was that no Herald was ordinary—and with the two of them bound so tightly together, extraordinary was sure to follow.

    [Absolutely no knowledge of the Valdemar series required for this fic]

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    27 Sep 2021

    Bookmarker's Notes

    My heart. One of my favorite writers. My favorite pair. In my childhood favorite storyland. What can go wrong? (nothing, that's what)