sleepysticks



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    Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”

    “That is not standing,” Sam tells him.

    “You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.”

     
    aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

    Podfic of this story available by the incredible quietnight!

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    22 Mar 2019

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    The leader stepped forward, and the betas flanking him moved further out to the side to keep a clear line of fire on Max without impeding the alpha’s progress. The alpha’s nostrils flared and his advancing steps stuttered, pausing and then resuming twice as fast. Max felt a sick little swoop in his belly, grim satisfaction that his plan was working mixed with an awareness of what that would mean for him later. Guns down, gentlemen. Oscar protocol.

    The betas lowered their rifles instantly, pointing them at the ground in front of Max instead of his chest. Max took a deeper breath in, his tension easing a bit as he moved past the part of the plan where he might just get shot dead before he had a chance to try to bargain. It had always been a risk; it had just seemed like a better death than slow starvation.

    The alpha stepped closer, looking him over. He was a big man, but also quiet, light on his feet. Max tipped his chin up. It was a gesture of submission, and it showed that his neck was bare. No bonding bites, no competing claims. The added vulnerability made him tremble a little harder, but it was worth it for the way the alpha zeroed in on his throat.

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    17 Feb 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 16

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    Podfic of a light-handed approach to regulation by hazel

    Summary: Patrick Kane has soft hands.

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    13 Jan 2019

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    The son of the man who lost the Eagle of the Ninth would never be allowed a first command of his very own fort, would he?

    Marcus is posted not to Isca Dumnoniorum, but to a wretched and run-down garrison north of the Wall. There he finds that he is the new centurion of a group of scouts and spies, all of them British. He has few supplies and no experience. His men distrust him. His superiors despise him. His second-in-command is an incompetent drunkard. And the local tribes are determined to kill all of them.

    But the worst thing of all is one of Marcus' soldiers. He is an enigmatic, dangerous, and insubordinate man by the name of Esca, who makes Marcus yearn for terrifying things he has never before wanted and can never, ever let himself have...

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    5/5
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    10 Jun 2018

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    He was determining his own protocols. It was an ongoing process, and kind of a mess.

    Language:
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    11 Feb 2018