#PLEASE A POP BAND PLEASEEEEE

[m0on-shro0m]

Can we like- give Ariana Griande friends

Specifically The Valley Girls that Jimmy, Scar, and Skizz was doing

Please please please make them a pop band

Please

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

In A World Of Grey

Chapter One

Words: 4K

(Not my art. Please credit the artist if you know their handle💕)

Thank you @anonymous for reminding me to update this piece!!!

Sountrack: ‘34+35′ by Ariana Grande, ‘I Don’t Miss You At All’ by FINNEAS, ‘Chained to the Rhythm’ by Katy Perry

Grey:

Adj: A color intermediate between black and white

Adj: Pale, as through age, tiredness, or illness

expulsion...ExPulSiOn...EXPULSION!?!?! Grey couldn’t believe that she was sitting on the sidelines of the track getting ready to compete for her spot in Class 1-A. She’s only been in the class for a few minutes and she’s already on the chopping block for being expelled. As Grey looked around, she noticed her peers having the same fearful, anxiety filled gazes as they looked around the obstacle courses. 

Aizawa stood in front of them, gazing at them as they huddled together, trying to think hard about how they were going to pass (and some of them thinking to impress) with Aizawa. All of them stood together in a line, waiting for the next directions to be given. 

“As a hero, you must be resilient and strong. These obstacles are meant to test your strength before we begin your training as a hero. We’ll start with the fifty meter dash, followed by grip strength, standing long jumps, and the ball throw. You are allowed to use your quirks,” only problem with that was that Grey couldn’t think of any song that would help her. She wanted to shake as she now understood she’d probably fail if she couldn’t think of a song. And, failing means EXPULSION.

‘I can’t fail, I just can’t. Not after I’ve come so far to be better,’ she starts to feel the world spinning as she fears the worse however, she knows she won’t give up without giving it her all. 

They line up for the fifty meter dash, Iida to her left and Midoriya to her right. It doesn’t take a genius for her to know that she’s already beat by Iida but she  surprisingly comes to the end with five seconds, her thighs rubbing together as she runs. Truthfully, she’s disappointed with how she’s performed but she supposes it’s better than coming in last. 

The grip strength test wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be (although, she could probably thank her father's rigorous training regimen for that). She managed to lift 85 kilograms, which was better than a lot of other people, extraordinary for her considering that she doesn't even have a mutant type quirk.

The standing long jump wasn't anything too spectacular. She landed within the box.

‘At least I’m not in last place,’ Grey felt bad for Midoriya. She could already tell from his attitude that he had a positive outlook on life and she’d hate it for him to lose the sparkle his green eyes contained. Plus, isn’t this what they were going to U.A. for anyway? To gain the strength they needed to be heroes? Why would Aizawa expel any of them? It just didn’t make sense. 

The ball throw was good for Grey, her total coming to eight-hundred meters high, higher than Bakugou. Grey smiled giddily as Bakugou cussed about her being a ‘shitty girl’ that cheated.

“There’s no fucking way she beat me. I call bullshit,” Bakugou glared down at her radiating face, part of him already knowing he wasn’t truly mad. 

“She’s so manly,” Kirishima gushed.

“Manly? No, she’s too adorable for that,” Kaminari grinned. Sero was to his left, observing Grey as well. Grey didn’t notice how most of her classmates looked at her whenever she started to get happy, all of them wondering if she had a second type of quirk that could make them feel this way. 

“Midoriya, how do you expect to save people when you keep breaking your limbs whenever you use your quirk?” Grey felt bad for the boy that was currently being held by Aizawa’s scarf. Although, she understood why Aizawa was being so rough on him. He couldn’t keep getting injured the way he was if he wanted to be a legitimate hero. 

Thankfully, Midoriya was able to push through and, in the end, none of them were expelled. She supposed the extra incentive to do well was good for them all however, she still thinks it was a bit of an unorthodox method of teaching.

“You are all dismissed. Grey, I want to talk to you,” Grey tensed up as Aizawa beckoned her over to speak to him. “No songs for the fitness test?”

“I couldn’t think of any and my quirk wasn’t supplying anything,” she bows her head.

“Supplying?”

“Yes, Sensei. My quirk normally comes with a song before an event happens, normally either a day or days before. It normally clouds my judgement or rings through my mind so much I can’t forget it.”

“Have you tried writing the lyrics down? Making your own music?” Grey shook her head hard, her eyes dimming as she thought of the time she tried to make her own lyrics. 

‘Never again.’

“You should try, it will help you for when these types of things happen,” if only her father were here to protest what her Sensei was telling her. Nothing good comes from her making her own songs. “We noticed at the exam that your songs also seem to influence those that are in your proximity. Is that a side effect or do you have dual quirks?”

“No, Sensei,” it was a good lie. Short and sweet to the point and Aizawa bought it. Grey’s father popped into her head, repeating the lie to her, telling her she should never tell anyone about her mother’s quirk, no matter what trouble she may be in. Was it a selfish request? Yes, but her father was a selfish man. Either way, she knew she owed it to her mother to never use her quirk again. 

“Very well. We’ll work on it during training,” wait...does that mean he’ll help her with her quirk?

“Wait, you’re the one that's going to help me?”

“Of course. I’m your teacher,” Grey couldn’t help but squeal and jump up and down, her energy hitting Aizawa full force, making his tiredness disappear. He had a small smile on his face as he watched her run away squealing. “She’s a peculiar one.”

“What did Aizawa-Sensei need?” Mina asked as Grey returned to the girls locker room to change.

“He wanted to know why I didn’t use a song for the test today.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“My quirk didn’t give me one,” yet, her quirk was now starting to belt a few tones, making her think something important was about to happen. She got dressed quickly and left the locker room, excited to see whatever the music was prepared for. 

“LITTLE LISTENERRRR, WAIT FOR ME,” Present Mic was once again screaming from the distance, his tone gaining in pitch with how excited he was getting. He was running towards her when one of Aizawa’s scarves came from nowhere, wrapping him up before he could reach her. “AIZAWAAAAA.”

“Yamada, leave her be. Can’t you see she’s in a rush?” Aizawa rolled his eyes as he caught his friend in the middle of trying to stop Grey as she was running to the front gates of the school. 

“PLEASEEEEE,” Aizawa put him down, already getting a headache from his friend’s pleading. “Five minutes.”

“You’re Grey, right?” Yamada asked her and didn’t wait for her reply. “Yes, you are. I’ll be assisting Aizawa with your quirk training. The school thinks you could use the extra help considering your quirk is a sonic-emitter type like mine. So, I look forward to hearing whatever you come up with in that little noggin of yours,” Grey smiled hard, her energy once again amplifying. 

“Thank you so much for helping me,” Grey bowed and ran away before they could say anything, causing both of them to smile. 

Grey decided to take the long way home that day, popping her hips to the pop music in her head. She wanted to dance but she opted not to considering all the looks the people around her were giving. Her smiles were infectious, lifting the days of the people she passed. 

She ended up passing a group performing on the street: a keyboard player, a violinist, and a drummer were playing. All they needed was a singer...

“Do you guys mind if I join? I promise I can sing,” Grey’s mind was now flooding with lyrics. Ofcourse, the time when she doesn’t necessarily need it, the music comes in bounts. 

“Knock yourself out little girl,” said the gruff drummer with his beard flowing down his chest. Grey grinned, starting off the song. 

“You might think I’m crazy, the way I’ve been craving, if I put it quite plainly, just give me them babies.”

So, this is one of those times the music is a bit...explicit. However, Grey can’t help herself as she sings, shimmying down and around the band, gathering the attention of many onlookers, her blush prominent on her cheeks as she grinded her hips into the air. 

“So what you doing tonight? Better say "Doing you right" Watching movies but, We ain't seeing a thing tonight.”

Grey laughed loudly as she caught sight of Sero in the crowd, waving in between the stanzas as she hit a splits in front of him, pulling herself up as she swung her head around, her dutch braids whipping around her to create a faux halo. 

She kept singing, no matter how large the crowd was getting, waving her hips enticingly as she did a backstand into a flip through the crowd that parted for her like the Red Sea. Many began clapping for the girl as it became apparent that she was putting her all into the performance. 

“I don't wanna keep you up (you up) But show me, can you keep it up? (It up?) 'Cause then I'll have to keep you up, So maybe, I'mma keep you up boy.”

Sero sang backup for her as she danced around him, using his body as a wall to push herself up against, her body creating a visual representation of what the lyrics promised. She briefly wondered what she looked like to the people around her? A girl in a school uniform dancing so wildly? She didn’t care as long as she was having fun. 

“Wanna come home with me tonight?” Grey asked Sero once she was satisfied with her dancing.

“You sure about that? You’ve only known me for a few hours. How do you know I’m not a homicidal maniac that cha-chas after he kills his victims?” Sero mimicked the move he talked about, his arms swinging left to right.

“Okay, for one, good dancing. For two, if you are a cha-cha slanging killer, I’d be honored to die by your lady killing moves,” Grey giggled. “Plus, you’d be the type to slaughter me in my sleep.”

“True. Lead the way, fearless lady,” Sero stood to the side and motioned for her to walk in front of him. This was turning out to be a really good day for Sero. Kaminari would lose his mind when he found out he got to spend extra time with Grey. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Grey led Sero all the way to her humble apartment, unlocking it and yanking him into her space right after her. Sero looked around, noting the lack of pictures on the walls. “I’ll have to warn you that I’m not the best cook. 

“Anything is fine. When will your parents be home?” Sero instantly felt bad at the way the girl's face dimmed. Walking further into her apartment, Sero could see that there was a small, rotating sectional in the corner with a few chairs scattered around the living room. The furniture was pointed at a flat-screen T.V. (which was coincidentally playing the American news). When he looked over to the dining room, his heart sunk a bit more when all he saw was a small round table, clearly meant for one person. “You live here alone, don’t you?”

‘Great! Now he thinks he made me upset. There’s no way I’m ruining this opportunity,’ Grey thought as she whirled around to face Sero. She’d be damned if she let this chance to be around someone other than the mailman slip away. 

“I do! My dad’s an American hero, so he sent me away to be safe,” okay, that was a very big omission of truth. He DID send her away to be safe...from her. “It gets a bit lonely but he always answers when I call.”

Sero felt a little better hearing her explanation but, he still took notice to the way she didn’t mention her mother. Deciding to let it slide, Sero grinned and nodded.

“So, dinner?” Sero and Grey migrated into the kitchen. There was a small marble island in the middle with a spacious countertop seated on the wall. 

“Hmmm, I’ll let you pick,” Sero took a seat as Grey got out the ingredients for spring rolls. As she cut up all the vegetables, Sero sat at the little dining table, laughing at the crazy things she would do as she cooked. 

“Then, what did you do?” Sero was practically screaming as he laughed at the story Grey was telling him. 

“I did what any rational person would do; I poured some barbecue sauce on my ass and told him to kiss it. Then I pushed him into the closet,” they both were laughing hard as Grey came to the table with food for Sero to assemble his own roll. 

“What did he say? Did he kiss it?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“No, ahehe,” Grey rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “He actually had a wig in the closet which he put on, turned around, and screamed “Jokes on you Grey, I identify as a woman” and tackled me onto the bed.” 

Sero was holding a fist to his mouth, trying not to snort at Grey’s story. This girl was such a whirlwind to him; he couldn’t wait till they had their own stories of each other. He looked down at his phone, noticing a text message from his mother telling him he’d have to get home soon. It was already nine o’clock! 

“Wow, I didn’t know it was this late. I’ve gotta start heading home,” Sero said as he got up, gathering his plate so he could wash it. “Thanks for having me over!”

“No problem! You can come over any time; I enjoyed having you over. And, don’t worry about the plate. I’ll wash it. It’ll give me something to do,” despite how much she smiles, Sero could feel Grey’s loneliness. No one can ever truly be okay being alone every single day in a forgeign country with no one to talk to. He can only think about how sad she must be at night when she falls asleep without her father.

“I’ll definitely be coming over more often,” Sero placed the plate in the sink for her, walking over to give her a big hug. Grey’s eyes were wide as her arms were squeezed to her sides. She didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t been hugged like this since she was seven years old. “We’ll definitely be making more memories.”

He left soon after, promising one last time that he’d be coming over soon. She was still smiling moments later as she was washing the dishes, reminiscing on how happy she felt. If only she could feel this way all the time. 

Once she finished washing all the dishes, Grey went upstairs and took her shower (she wasn’t really feeling up to taking a bath). Grey could hear a song coming into her mind, killing her happy mood as she started to listen to the lyrics. 

‘I swear I don’t, Miss you at all, And I barely still remember, Who’s in the pictures on my wall.’

As she washed her body, she wanted to believe that she truly didn’t miss her father but that would be believing a lie. She missed him with every fiber in her being but, there was nothing she could do about this feeling. Her father is a busy enough man and he doesn’t need her taking up any more of his focus. That’s what she had been telling herself to justify his behavior. She just wishes she could still believe that too. 

One thing about her quirk that she’s noticed is that it plays off her emotions. Sometimes, the music will be truly random but, most of the time, the music is created from a strong feeling. She’s also noticed that the more she connects with the song, the harder it is to control her influence on the song. So, she wondered if this new song was any indication of what she was truly feeling. 

‘All but forgotten, About those eyes, A shade of green, that if he seen, Would make F. Scott Fitzgerald cry.’ 

How long had it been since she saw her father? He hadn’t even seen her off when she left for Japan. And, before that, he had been gone for a while on a mission (she half suspects he was just staying somewhere else to avoid her). By her estimation, it’s about a year and a few months since she’s seen him. She doesn’t know whether she should still be pained from her feelings. 

Grey supposes it can be worse than what it is right now. Her father could’ve sold her off to the American government, claiming she was a loose cannon. And, it was somewhat true. She was a loose cannon in the sense that she couldn’t control her quirk like others but, it wasn’t as if she didn’t try her hardest to suppress the urges she had every day. 

Truthfully, her only hope for a good future as a hero was lying in her teacher’s hands. She needs help from them; the help she should be getting from her own father. Again, she still can’t feel any resentment towards her father. 

Grey got dressed in her Pikachu onesie, her mind drifting off a bit to Kaminari’s hair, and went downstairs to complete her nightly routine. She plugged up her laptop to the t.v., searched for the American news channel just like she did every night, and sat on the rotating sectional in the corner of her living room. She watched as the broadcasters talked about the daily news, happy to see that her father wasn’t on the screen. 

This was her only way to make sure her father was safe. Her father was prone to not answering his phone for long periods of time, so she had stopped calling so frequently. If anything ever did happen to her father, she would most likely find out just like any stranger would. 

‘And I’m sleeping fine, I don’t mean to boast, But I only dream about you, Once or twice a night at most. And it feels so good, eating alone, I don’t get distracted by your smile, And miss the green lights driving home.’

She would sit in that sectional for hours, making sure that her father was safe. Her loyalty and dedication to him weighing on her consciousness. She felt bitterness creep into her soul. Why did she care about him so much?

Then, the guilt came; it always comes. It’s her fault that her father is the way he is. This is her penance. She knows she must pay the price of what she’s done but, it hurts all the same. It hurts like hell. 

This particular night, she sees her father smiling at the camera as he restrains a villain. He looks so good to the public, his bright, white teeth setting him apart. His dark skin looks good against his white superhero costume. Hell, even his grey hair looks nice. He looks better than he’s ever been with her. 

“OUR NEXT TOP STORY: AMERICAN PRO-HERO ‘SOUND-YEAR’ HAS ONCE AGAIN SAVED THE DAY.”

She watches with tears in her eyes, hurt in her heart. Why couldn’t he be this happy with her? 

‘But I won’t, Make that mistake again and fall, So I say I don’t, Miss you at all, And one day I won’t, Miss you at all.’ 

                                                          ***

‘Are we crazy, Livin’ our lives through a lens, Trapped in our white picket fence.’ 

Oh my! Grey woke up the next morning, body grooving on its own. It’s weird how quickly her feelings can change but she doesn’t question it. All she does is shoulder shuffle out of her bedroom to her bathroom and get prepared for the day. She dressed in her uniform, using her hairbrush as a microphone. She’s pretty sure she forgot to eat breakfast in her dance craze. She figured she’d just get lunch at the school. 

“Aren’t you lonely, Up there in Utopia, Where nothing will ever be enough, Happily Numb, So comfortable, we’re living in a bubble, bubble,” Grey sang loudly on the train, her quirk flowing through the bodies of the other people around her. Their souls felt uplifted, their feet thumping on the train's floor, their bodies shimmying to her accord. 

Poor Grey didn’t notice how she was controlling the people around her and, to her credit, none of them seemed to mind. Her song control wasn’t bothering them. 

When she got off the train (A nice lady had noticed her U.A. uniform and directed her off on the right stop), she continued her dancing all the way to U.A. A few pedestrians that got too close to her felt their moods lift a bit, eyeing her with curiosity. To most, she would seem like some wild girl but, the closer they looked the more they saw her beautiful aura of happiness. 

“Turn it up, it's your favorite song, Dance, dance, dance to the distortion, Turn it up, keep it on repeat,” and this is where her true problem rears its head. As she danced into the school, people were raptured by her song. They began to dance just as she had sung, their bodies flailing to repeat her moves. Grey’s voice was loud, drowning out all the student’s that were yelling for her attention. 

“Stumblin’ around like a wasted zombie, Yeah, we think we’re free, Drink, this one’s on me, We’re all chained to the rhythm, To the rhythm, to the rhythm,” she danced into Class 1-B. Vlad was getting ready to direct her out when his body began to dance as well. The students that were already in the class couldn’t fight her temptation as they began to stumble around, running into each other. Hell, some people were crashing into desks and walls. 

Grey’s eyes were still closed. The poor, oblivious girl. She had no idea of the mayhem she was causing. All she knew was that the music was making her feel good. She wanted to feel good. 

Vlad was trying hard to fight her siren’s call when he experienced first-hand what happens when you try to go against Grey’s commands. The blood bubbled in his throat, snorting from his nose, running out of his ears. His atoms were clashing against each other violently, causing more blood to splurt from his body. 

“GREY, GREY, PLEASE! SOMEONE GET PRESENT MIC,” Vlad was screaming to the top of his lungs to any students that were out of her singing range. To be fair, Grey’s range goes far, most likely extending to Class 1-A. 

Footsteps were pounding the school's hallways. Present Mic was yelling some low sound waves, trying to cancel her sound out. He hoped he could get to the girl before any real damage was done. However, he was too late. 

What drew Grey out of her happy trance was a spurt of blood that landed on her face. Her eyes snapped open, staring up widely at Vlad’s bloody appearance. Her body began to shake as she slowly turned to look around, seeing her peers with red faces as they hugged their bodies. She felt the tears bubble in her eyes as she kept glancing at Vlad’s face, the image of his blood flowing would be permanently stained into her mind. 

“I’m so sorry.”

—————————————————————————-

TagList💕

@sakurashortstack @sinclairsamess @mha4life007

[marvelatmytrash]

Crawl Home To Her - Request

Pairings: 40′s Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst, captivity 

Word Count: 1336

Request: Hiiii, could you write me a one shot or something for bucky/reader based on 'Work Song' by Hozier? pleaseeeee <3

For an anonymous requester

My Masterlist 

She beams, the ghost of her laugh reaching her eyes, the sweet music of her voice floating on the thick summer air. He stares at her, memorizing the soft curls of her hair as they fall around her face.

He grins slightly at the remainder of the red lipstick smudged around her mouth, knowing that his lips must be a mirror image from the aggressive kisses he had stolen in the late-night hours. Her smile falters as she looks into his steel blue gaze. A frown turning down the corners of her mouth as the laugh fades from her eyes.

“What did I say Bucky?” She shakes her head, making to slide away from him in the parked car, but he holds tight to her waist, pulling her closer as she playfully wiggles in his grasp. “What did I say about looking at me like that?”

He smiles, knowing her firm tone was just for show, the threat of the next day looming over them as the music from the goodbye party floats down the pier, infiltrating their moment through the open car windows.

“You know doll, I can’t seem to remember anything else when I’m looking at you. You’ll have to remind me again.” He teases her as he ducks his head, his lips searching for her neck once more as she playfully swats at his chest, a small moan escaping from her perfect mouth.

“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t so big.” She moans breathily, her back arching slightly as he pulls her tighter against him, the small chuckle that had escaped him is quickly captured in her mouth as her hands’ grip in his hair, pulling his lips back to hers.

After a moment, the passionate embrace is broken, her hands pulling gently in his tresses as she disconnects from the kiss, resting her forehead against his as they both breathe heavily, her fingers rubbing gently on either side of his face as she smooths his freshly cut hair back behind his ears.

“What did I say, Sergeant Barnes?” She whispers. Her breath, sweet as honey as it ghosts across his parted lips, causing him to smile at the sensation.

“I can’t look at you like I’m never gonna see you again…” He recites, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “I know doll, but…” He bites his lip, his head pulling back from her grip as he glances out the window at the lights down the pier, the band still swinging as the party continues. The sendoff for the soldiers being celebrated by all of New York.

Her fingers reach softly for his cheek, pulling his lips back to hers as she presses a soft kiss to them. “But nothing, Barnes...” She breathes softly, shaking her head slightly as she tries to steady her voice.  

“I’ll never ask you to tell me what you had to do… But you come back to me… You understand?” She stares at him, her eyes shining in the dark, the shimmer of unshed tears making them glow in the shadows of the light infiltrating through the open windows.

“I don’t care what happens. I don’t care what you have to do to stay alive… But you come home to me…” her lip trembles as she bites at it taking a deep breath to steady her voice, putting on a brave face for the soldier she loves.

“Doll…” Bucky starts, trying to find the words to reassure her, but they fail him, his voice shakes as his thumb rises to her cheek, wiping at the silent tear that escaped. Her shaking hand rises to grasp at his wrist, sliding up to cup his fingers against her cheek.

“Promise me Bucky… please…” she begs, her voice a whisper as if the impossible promise would become attainable if he just said it out loud. But he remains mute in the dark as her lip trembles, silently begging for a response.

“Bucky…” she pleads, “I will move heaven and hell if I have to… just please…” She begs, her voice failing as he leans forward to kiss her greedily once more. Her silent sobs causing her to shake against him as his fingers fan into her soft curls.

He pulls back, breathing slowly, memorizing the mild mix of lavender and cedar that always radiated from her soft skin.

“I promise” he whispers softly, his lips gently connecting with hers once more. She breathes smoothly, finally relaxing into his grip, “No grave could even hold me doll… I’ll crawl home to you if I have to.”

She nods mutely. Both unable to bring any more words to their lips. Silent tears fill his eyes as he hurriedly wraps his arms around her once more, pulling her close against his chest, holding her tightly as he presses a soft kiss to her forehead. He is grateful for the darkness as it masks the fear in his eyes, of a promise that he might fail to keep.

Bucky’s vision swims as he comes back into consciousness, the treasured memory fading into the darkened corners of his mind. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing to bring the image back to his consciousness. It had almost felt as if he was with her. Like he had returned to her arms as promised.  

“I will move heaven and hell if I have to…” Her whispered words danced in his mind, the memory dissolving. He had left heaven back across the sea with her, and now, he knew, he was facing hell.

The foreign language of the tall men around him causes his brain to blur. He focuses on the harsh words spoken around him, trying to decipher the small bits of German he could understand.

His eyes slide to the corner of the room as he hears the steel of a door creak open, seeing a tall dark figure enter the room. The surrounding doctors quickly stand at attention, saluting the new addition as the apparent commander walks over to Bucky, appraising his newest test subject.

“What’s the status on our Sergeant?” The tall man asks the surrounding doctors in English, wishing Bucky to hear and understand. The mental games valuable to the commander as he toys with his prey. His German accent is thick as he leers down at Bucky, his thin lips curling into a sneer.

“He’s strong.” The lead surgeon reports, tripping over his words as he nervously reports to the commander. “He’s survived all our tests so far. We’ve gotten closer with him than any other before.”

The commander beams happily, his eyes flashing up to his lead doctor. “Well then!” he exclaims, clapping his hands together in satisfaction, “Seems you are an anomaly Sergeant Barnes! You should feel proud.”

Bucky stares up at the commander, his jaw tensing against the leather strap that holds his head to the cold steel table. The doctor approaches him with a syringe full of bright blue liquid, moving towards Bucky’s exposed forearm. The skin peppered with bruising from previous administrations.

Bucky thrashes uselessly against the bonds, as his muscles tense, the doctor holding down his vascular arm as the syringe is slipped under his skin, the liquid quickly injected, sending Bucky into a fit of seizures as his body tries to process the chemical.

“You’re right doctor” The commander drawls, looking down at Bucky’s thrashing body, the veins in his arms bulging as he fights violently against the restraints. “He is strong!” The commander beams down at his prize subject.

“He’s a survivor for certain.” The doctor whispers as he turns towards the counter, his hand grazing lightly over Bucky’s confiscated dog tags, a small silver locket attached with a metal hoop to the identifying necklace. “It helps… when they have something to survive for.”

His thumbnail slides along the seam of the heart, popping the small locket open as he glances down at the black and white picture inside, the loving smile of a young woman with soft curls looking back at him.

Forever Tags: @imhereforbvcky @heismyhunter  @feelmyroarrrr  @sapphire1727  @colt-eleven-impala-sixtyseven @lilacs-lavender @thisisthelilith @callamint @himasugi @amrita31199 @ailynalonso15 @thewintersoldierprogram @watch-out-for-thorns @givemethatgold @eloquentpetrichorpeculiar @kristygear @winterboobaer @magicintheelements @frolicsomefawkes @danstrash @bridgeneem @mitra-k-w @coffeeismylife28 @cornflax01 @emmatheawesome @movingonto-betterthings @shifutheshihtzu @cheythehulk @melconnor2007 @alwayshave-faith @justreadingfics @calaofnoldor @smut-goodness @badassbaker @allisonbaelfire  @denialanderror

If there is a strike through on your tag, it is because Tumblr will not let me tag you, I’m not sure why though :(