#service dog bucky

[saoirseserenade]

Tw // abuse, htp, kidnapping, implied s/a, daddy kink, puppy play, dead dove

Au idea where Brock Rumlow having a ‘service dog’ who he trained (kidnapped) himself >_< and Bucky is just a good boy that sucks cock when his Daddy wants nd helps ‘service’ him in other ways nd he nd Rumlow go to this annual secret club for dogs like Bucky.

And there’s a newcomer - blond and shy nd so clumsy. Rumlow likes his owner who’s name is Jack Rollins nd they hit it off and Bucky is just looking at the new dog curiously and Steve is just kinda scared nd terrified (‘service dog in training’) nd then idk the two make their boys fuck

[yawpyawp]

some doodles of my boye foober in my therapy notebook :)

i’ve really liked these daily 4 hr group therapy sessions bc they give me a lot of time to draw lol

starting next week i’m stepping down a level and will only be in 2 hr sessions which will cut down on my art time :’’’}

[blaqcats-fics]

(He's) Just a Phase — Part 2

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.3K

March 1989

'I can't do this anymore!'

Steve flinched at the loudness in Eddie's voice. He looked at him, taking in the frown lines on his face and how his eyes nearly glowed in anger.

He had expected this. He had been waiting for the ball to drop eventually. There had been signs over the past month that he had picked up. It was small things that Steve was sure Eddie didn't notice he was doing.

First, it was just something small. It could have always been superficial to Eddie, but to Steve, it had always been something bigger, something more. It was a habit that Eddie had always had, and Steve wasn't sure Eddie knew he had done it.

Steve worked nights most of the time, meaning his schedule was the opposite of Eddie's. It had been hard, but they had made it work. They made sure they received the same days off so that they could spend time with each other. On the long days, Eddie would leave the hall light on when he went to bed before Steve got home.

It again wasn't much, but it was something.

When Steve came home, and the light wasn't on, Steve felt his chest tighten. Something was wrong. He did something wrong. Of course, against his better judgment and not openly communicating with Eddie, Steve kept his mouth closed and moved on.

The next tell was more significant. It gave an indication that Eddie knew what he was doing. It wasn't as superficial because they made sure of it together.

Eddie scheduled his band practice on their day off -- the day they used for date night. But, in true Steve fashion, he kept his mouth shut. So it didn't matter if Steve laid in bed all day, crying to Robin, trying to figure out what he did.

The other things fell into place after that, like ducks in a row, until he ended up facing Eddie's frustration.

'I'm sorry,' Steve mumbled.

Eddie gritted his teeth. 'And what are you sorry for, Steve? Please enlighten me!'

Steve wasn't sure. 'I, uh,' he licked his lips, gaze flickering to anywhere but Eddie's face.

'You don't know!' Eddie snapped.

Steve pursed his lips shut. 'No,' he said.

'That's the problem. You're so absorbed in your own head to not even notice what you're doing!' Eddie laughed. It was a bitter sound, and Steve felt a spear stab through his heart.

'I'm not,' Steve argued weakly. 'I thought we were fine.'

'You thought wrong,' Eddie exclaimed. 'I'm miserable, Steve. I'm tired. I'm tired of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and realize that world isn't going to eat you alive.'

'What is this about?' Steve asked, his voice rising. He needed clarification. He needed things spelled out for him. He was terrible at reading between the lines, even if he knew he should be better at it.

'It's about you not wanting to be seen with me,' Eddie snapped. 'Or you don't want anyone to know about us. You either tell people were friends or that were fucking roommates. Dustin doesn't even know we're together!'

Steve flinched. 'That's not true,' he said. 'You know I love you-'

'You don't show it very well,' Eddie cut him off.

'Don't give me that!' Steve said, frowning. 'I didn't have my whole life to figure out I was bisexual! I'm sorry that I'm not ready to come out!'

'What do you have to lose, Steve?' Eddie hissed. 'You don't have anyone who would look at you differently! Your parents couldn't give a fuck about you, and everyone else would love you no matter what! What's so fucking scary, Steve? Why is it so hard to let people close to us know?'

Steve swallowed, tears stinging his eyes. Hurt flooded his system. It was a low blow on Eddie's part, mentioning his parents. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong. His parents didn't care about him. They especially didn't care about Steve after discovering all the 'scandalous' things that Steve was involved with. 'I just, um. I'm not ready, Eddie. I don't know what else you want me to say.'

Eddie laughed, 'Fuck, I don't know. That you'll try? That you'll tell at least Dustin! It's like you are ashamed to be with me!'

He was silent.

Eddie wasn't far from the truth.

Steve was ashamed but never of Eddie. There wasn't a fiber in Steve's bones that could ever be ashamed of Eddie. Steve was only ashamed of himself. He didn't know why he was, but every time Steve looked in the mirror, he felt disgusted with himself. He felt as if God would strike him down at any given moment for just enjoying kissing a man.

Nothing had to do with Eddie. Everything just had to do with Steve.

'Not everything has to deal with you, Eddie,' Steve said, voice tense. 'Nothing I've done about hiding my sexuality has to deal with you. I'm not ready. I don't know when I'll ever be ready!'

Eddie stared at Steve, expression unchanging. 'I'm not going to wait anymore.'

Steve felt his stomach drop. 'What does that mean?'

'It means what it means. I'm not going to sit here unhappy. I can't keep waiting for you to be ready,' Eddie said.

'Are you breaking up with me?' Steve asked, his voice shaking.

'I guess I am,' Eddie said.

'But,' Steve began, stumbling over the singular word.

Eddie shook his head. 'It's done. We're done.'

Steve bit his lip and nodded. He looked down at his lap, unmoving. What would he do, promise to try to get him to stay? He wanted to beg him to stay, but Steve knew he shouldn't. Not when any promises he made wouldn't be kept.

'Fucking hell, you have nothing to say, do you?' Eddie shook his head. 'I'm leaving. I'll be back this weekend to get my shit.'

Steve could only watch him walk out of the door.

He didn't move from the spot and wasn't sure how long he had sat there, staring blankly at the don't, trying to understand what had happened.

This wasn't like Nancy.

It was worse.

Because before, Steve had felt something — rage, disappointment, sadness. Right now, at this moment, felt hollow, as if a part of him had been removed.

It was when Eddie was actually gone that Steve called Robin. She moved to Dallas after graduation, and Steve only saw her two weeks out of the year. But, she had stayed Steve’s rock, and Steve in return her’s.

The dial tone echoed in his ear as he leaned against the doorway, staring into his bedroom. Besides the trillion tiny holes left over by the thumbtacks holding Eddie’s countless posters, the walls were empty. The bed had only two pillows, both plaid and ugly, a reminder that Eddie had been the one to hoard an enormous amount of pillows — a reminder that Steve’s favorite pillow had belonged to Eddie.

‘Buckley speaking,’ Robin’s voice filled the silence.

Steve’s lips twitched. ‘Hey, Birdie,’ he greeted.

‘Dingus!’ she cheered. ‘I was wondering when you were going to call.’

Steve pursed his lips, 'Yeah, sorry. It's been a rough week.'

‘Eddie picking up shifts again?’ she asked.

‘Uh, um,’ Steve rubbed his lips together, fighting the tears and tightness in his chest. ‘No,’ he managed to gasp out.

Robin was silent momentarily before her soft voice echoed on the receiver. ‘Stevie, what’s wrong?’

Steve found himself unwinding at the seams at the simple question, a loud, ugly sob choking out of him. ‘He’s gone, Robin. He left!’ he cried, the words rushed out and barely audible.

‘What? What do you mean he left?’ Robin exclaimed loudly in the line.

'We broke up,' Steve cried, his chest heaving as he cried harder. 'I fucked up, Robbie. It's all my fault he's gone!'

'Steve, honey, I need you to try and breathe for me. Focus on something and take a few deep breaths for me. I can't understand you writing now,' Robin instructed on the phone.

He did as she said. He focused on the black alarm clock on his bedside table, staring at the red glowing numbers. He took a deep breath, hiccupping as he breathed out. He did that for a few minutes.

'Better?' Robin asked.

'Mhm,' Steve vocalized. 'Sorry.'

'Babe, don't apologize,' she said. 'Now what happened?'

Steve closed his eyes, gripping the phone cord and using the wire to ground him. 'Eddie and I broke up a few days ago, maybe almost a week ago. Well, he broke up with me,' he mumbled, voice shaky.

'I thought you were good; you guys were happy,' Robin said.

Steve laughed, his voice bitter, 'Yeah, me too. Apparently not.'

'Do you know if he told you why?'

'I fucked up,' Steve said simply, thinking over the words that Eddie told him just a week ago. 'I didn't want to tell anyone we're together because I'm not ready. I've been pulling away, I guess. I don't know. He's upset that I don't want the relationship because I don't want people to know.'

Robin was quiet, 'Do, or well, did you want people to know?'

'Of course, I do, Birdie,' he said, choking on her nickname. 'I would scream that I love him from the top of a mountain for the whole world to hear, but I just-'

'You aren't ready yet,' Robin said.

'I'm not ready.'

Robin let out a soft sigh. ‘Do you need me to fly to Indianapolis?’ she asked.

Steve immediately shot her down, 'You have classes and work, Birdie. I can deal with this on my own. There's not like there's much to deal with.'

'We both know how you can get when you get lost in your head,' Robin said. 'And I'm going to be honest, I understand where Eddie's coming from. I know it's hard to hide something important from those who matter, but it's not fair to you, either. You can't rush someone to just come out. He should know that it's a terrifying feeling.'

Steve hummed. ‘I guess so,’ he mumbled. ‘I wish I could go back in time and be ready or click a fast-forward button.’

'We'll you can't,' Robin said. 'Don't overthink too much, Stevie. You two broke up, and you never know; in a month, you might end up back together.'

Steve pursed his lips. This wasn't the first time he and Eddie fought. It was different. They would take a few hours away from each other and then talk about it before the night ended. The worst fight ended with Eddie staying the night at Gareth's, but he came home, and they had sorted it out.

Eddie was gone this time. There wasn't a trace of him left in the apartment.

‘Do you think he would have stayed if I had told Dustin?’ Steve asked.

‘Maybe,’ Robin said. ‘But how long would that satisfy Eddie until he wanted more people to know?’

Steve sighed, moving to rub the wetness from his under his eyes. 'I don't know,' he whispered. 'Maybe this isn't bad,' Steve mumbled.

'What's that mean?'

'Maybe I need to work on myself. I'm not like you or Eddie. I haven't gone out much. I haven't really learned anything,' he said. He picked at the end of the Corroded Coffin shirt that he still has. It was worn and full of holes. Eddie had made it two years ago when they had moved to Indianapolis in celebration of getting a gig at a local bar. 'I haven't been open to learning new things. Maybe I should just focus on myself,' he whispered. 'Maybe I hadn't been ready for a relationship with Eddie, and I just jumped into it.'

'I think figuring yourself out would be a good thing,' Robin said. 'And don't doubt rushing into your relationship. You and Eddie would love each other, even if a chapter of your relationship ended.'

'So poetic,' Steve joked weakly.

'I'm minoring in English. I need to be,' Robin jabbed back. 'But seriously, Steve, don't do anything you're uncomfortable with. It'll be better if you find a new routine and get used to being alone. Then start broadening your horizons.'

Steve hummed, 'That'll be a start.'

'Maybe get a pet!' Robin suggested. 'You like animals.'

'To an extent,' Steve sighed.

'Oh, maybe you could call Owens,' Robin said, voice brightening. 'You still have his card, don't you?'

Steve glanced at the drawer by the fridge, 'Yeah, of course, I do. So why would I need to call Owens?'

'To, well, I don't know, actually do what he suggested you did a few years ago,' Robin said as if Steve knew what she was talking about.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Steve asked. 'You know I have the memory of a goldfish.'

'Ugh,' Robin groaned. 'You're helpless,' she said. 'Owens suggested that you start seeing a therapist for your PTSD, which I'm assuming you never did.'

Steve shook his head, 'No. Eddie did, though.'

'Either way, he also suggested you get a service animal. They help, you know. They can clock you when you're on the edge of having an attack. Or you can get one for your migraines. Do they have service dogs for migraines? You should be able to ask Owens. You still have them frequently, right? What do you think about your eyesight? Are you still having trouble seeing it? Or it's the strain you put on your eyes that causes migraines. You may need glasses, Dingus,' Robin rambled.

Steve rolled his eyes, 'You're rambling again, Birdie.'

'Sorry,' she said automatically. 'So?'

'So, what?'

'Dear Christ,' Robin scoffed. 'Are you going to talk to Owens or not?'

Steve frowned, 'I probably should.'

'So call him. Start fixing yourself because a knight and shining armor can't help you,' she said. 'Eddie couldn't help you. I can't help you. You have to do this on your own,' she added. 'Of course, you can like to talk to be, but you have to hold yourself accountable and all that jazz.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'I'll call Owens.'

'Good!' Robin said. 'My sweet child,' she faked sniffing over the phone, 'growing up into a responsible young man.'

'Dear lord,' Steve laughed. 'Alright, Mom. I have to go. I have work in an hour and apparently have to call Owens.'

'Steve,' Robin said, voice serious.

'Yeah?'

'I love you,' she said. 'You'll get through this.'

'Love you too,' he said softly. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, Dingus.'

'Do you think you would have ever come if your previous partner had never broken up?' Doctor Newman asked gaze focused on Steve as her pen was settled against the clipboard, prepared to write at a moment's notice.

Steve eyed the pen warily, feeling uncomfortable. Therapy was part of what Owens offered him to help treat his PTSD. While Steve didn't want to sit and be interrogated, he was doing this for himself (and Robin; he didn't want to disappoint her).

'Probably not,' Steve said, honesty laced in his voice.

He doubted it would have ever been a thought on his mind if he and Eddie were still together. Steve would have internalized everything like he had always done. Knowing that thought, Steve knew he wouldn't have a chance to change from who he was or the shell of who he thought he was.

'Why do you think you wouldn't have?' the woman asked.

Steve moved his gaze to the clock, staring at the second hand, watching as it made its way around, counting down the seconds of the minute. 'I wouldn't have realized that there was a problem. I probably would have just done what I did before, internalize everything.'

'I see. Did you need to internalize your feelings because you might have thought they made you less of a person?'

He tensed and shifted uncomfortably. 'Maybe. I don't know. I don't think my feelings are all that important. Like, I, uh, I don't know, I just think there's no need to make a big deal of them.'

Doctor Newman glanced down at her clipboard, writing something down. 'Hm.' She looked up at Steve, tapping her pen gently against the board. 'Well, you're feelings are important, and it's always okay to prioritize your feelings, even if you think that makes you selfish. Being selfish is alright, especially when your mental health will thank you. Sometimes we all need a break, and sometimes we all need to just sit somewhere and feel.'

Steve nodded, taking in her words. 'I get that, I do, but I grew up in a house where feelings were something you put on the back burner. Then with the event from '83 to '86, feelings seemed irrelevant when people around me were hurting worse, who deserved and needed the attention or care.'

'So, despite the trauma that had fallen on you, you believed it to be small compared to those around you?'

'I mean, yeah?' Steve said, confused. 'The kids were going through so much. They needed someone to lean on, to be cool and collected. They needed someone safe. That was me. It had to be me. The adults and the others were all trying to sort through their own issues, and mine seemed so small in comparison.'

'But they weren't,' Doctor Newman said. 'All your problems? They are just as important as everyone else's. You can't compare your trauma to someone else's because everyone experiences trauma differently.' She picked a vanilla folder off the table, opened it, and flipped through a few pages. 'Doctor Owens sent me your file,' she said. 'And I have to say that you have gone through a good bit of trauma, specifically with Starcourt.'

Steve licked his lips, mentally wincing at the thought of Starcourt. 'I guess.'

'While the Upside Down -- that's what you called it, correct?' Doctor Newman asked.

He nodded, 'The kids called it that. Something about a rat on a rope or something.'

She nodded, 'Alright. So while the Upside Down and the Russians greatly affected you, I think your trauma might have started earlier. Would you be comfortable telling me about your relationship with your parents?'

Steve glanced at the clock, frowning that not more than ten minutes had passed. He coughed, adjusting in his seat. 'There's not much to say,' he said. 'They weren't around a lot.'

'That's a big vague,' she wrote on her clipboard again. 'What were they like when you were a child, before they started becoming less of a fixture in your life? What were they like when they were home? What about now? What's your relationship like now?'

Steve lifted his hand to his mouth, nibbling on the nail of his thumb. His parents weren't something he wanted to talk about.

'This is a safe space,' Doctor Newman said. 'If you aren't ready to talk about your parents, we don't have to. Not until you're ready.'

'And if I'm not ready?'

'Then you aren't,' she said. 'We have all the time in the world, but I think some of your complications stem from your parents, and I can't help you without you opening up about your childhood. So, we'll return here each week until you're ready to face it.'

‘You make it sound easy,’ he laughed.

‘It’s not,’ Doctor Newman corrected. ‘Sharing something personal, especially when it's difficult to talk about, is far from easy. We don't know each other well, and I assume that even if you were more familiar with me, you still wouldn't find it easy to share your experience with me, and that is okay.’

Steve swallowed thickly. He didn't say anything for a moment, struggling to find the words. He licked his lips, glancing back up at the clock, then to his hands, then to Doctor Newman.

‘Uh, my parents,’ he started, before pausing, face pinching together.

‘Take your time,’ Doctor Newman said.

Steve took a deep breath, slouching deep into the chair. ‘Well, I think it started back in ‘76, after I turned 10,’ he began.

NOTE: Thank you guys for reading! I wasn't planning on doing a flash-back chapter, but I might throw them in between present chapters just to give context to what led up to Steve doing what he's doing. Also, if you've noticed, the break-up isn't a super bad one (in the context of why they could have broken up.) I wasn't going to have cheating or anything, but rather something that could be fixed, because I want a happy ending for my boys. Of course, it's worse in Steve's eyes because he just blames himself for stuff. IDK, I thought of doing something worse, but I felt that might be too much.

Also, if you aren't fond of reading fics on Tumblr and prefer the Ao3 formatting, the link to the fic is HERE. Tumblr sees all updates first, and there's a 1-4 hour delay of transfer posting to Ao3. I go through and edit everything. Tumblr is like the RAW/Uncut version, so to speak.

Remember that if you want to be added to the tag list to leave a comment below or send me a DM!

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x @phirex22 x @kylobith x @screaming-alone x @poopypantsbennett x @ledleaf x @rhyswritesreadsandcries

[little-cereal-draws]

Sometimes I forget my elaborate web of headcannons isn’t real

Like what do you mean not everyone knows that Sam and Bucky live down in Louisiana with Bucky’s service dog, Bucky’s cat, Sam’s falcon, Bucky’s wild alligator, the alligator’s fifty babies, and Zemo? Isn’t that canon?

[eurekaserv01]

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[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,826

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word and the s-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares

A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜

~

“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.

“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”

“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”

“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”

“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”

“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.

“What does that even mean!”

“It means—”

“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.

But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.

“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”

“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”

“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”

Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.

Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.

Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.

He was dreading this. It was stupid.

“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.

“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.

“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.

He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?

“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.

Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.

What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.

The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.

“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.

“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.

“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.

“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”

“You call her Doll?”

“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.

“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”

“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.

He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.

He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.

“I'm sorry. I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.

“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”

“Well— what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air.

Sam kicked him again and glared.

“What? She said I could ask!”

“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.

“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”

Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.

“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”

Like he originally thought, this was stupid.

“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.

“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”

“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”

“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.

“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”

“But she can?”

“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.

“I know.”

“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”

“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.

“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”

“So what she becomes younger?!” He was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!

“That's correct.” She nodded.

“How young?” Sam asked.

“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”

“Oh.” Great. Just great.

“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.

“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.

“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”

“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.

~

The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.

She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.

A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.

Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.

Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.

The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.

~

“Where do I stay, daddy?”

Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.

She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.

She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.

“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.

He was making her a little nervous.

This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.

“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”

I don't want you.

She's definitely heard that before.

Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.

“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.

Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.

“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.

“B— But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?

“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”

Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?

“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.

“But what should I call you if not—”

“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.

“And stop crying.” He huffed.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.

Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.

He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.

What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.

Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?

~

She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.

She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.

That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.

Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.

He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.

“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”

“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.

“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.

“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!” Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.

“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” He took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.

“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.

“I— I— Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”

“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.

“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.

The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.

“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.

“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.

She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.

There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.

“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!

His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“N— No.” She quickly shook her head.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.

“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.

“To th— thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.

Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.

He hated her.

“You already said that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.

~

Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.

“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.

“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.

“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”

“Bad word again,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.

“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.

“I— Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.

“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.

“Go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.

Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.

He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.

She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.

Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.

~

It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.

Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.

Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.

“It’s okay, Daddy— Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.

He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.

“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.

“But—”

“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.

She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.

Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.

Except she didn’t.

She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.

“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.

“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.

She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.

“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.

“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”

“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”

She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.

“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.

~

The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.

“Hey, you!”

“Doll,” she corrected.

“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.

He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.

He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.

It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.

“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.

~

“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.

He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.

“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.

“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.

“We— We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”

She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.

If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.

“What?!”

“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.

“Tomorrow’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”

“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”

“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.

“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.

“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.

There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.

Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.

“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t even—” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.

What has Sam gotten him into?

~

“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.

“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”

Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.

“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.

She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.

“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn—” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.

“Call me Bucky.”

He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.

“Bucky?”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.

Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.

He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.

But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.

“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.

“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”

“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.

“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.

She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.

~

Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.

He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.

Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.

“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.

Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.

“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.

“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.

“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”

Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.

Was she some type of masochist?

“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.

Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.

~

“Bucky,” she called gently.

“Hmm.”

“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.

“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.

“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.

She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.

“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this—”

“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.

“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.

She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”

She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”

“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.

“Bad word.”

“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.

“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.

“No! On my dead body!”

~

“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”

“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.

“Now what?” He huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.

“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.

He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.

“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.

This was going to be long.

~

She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.

Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.

But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.

Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.

part II

~

• Tag List:

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[wayrad]

idk if we have any clegan mob au’s???

i feel like buck would be the kind of mob boss that really leads a gang that’s more of a family. like they don’t follow him out of fear but out of real blood-thick loyalty. cus buck is a smart and strong leader, he isn’t necessarily nice but he’s good; quick as a whip and absolutely lethal when he has to be. he’s always dressed to the nines in dark tailored suits and coiffed hair (picture austin during elvis era w black hair fuck yea) wearing little sunglasses and smoking cubans. I feel like everyone would kinda be lusting over him but he makes it a rule not to fuck around with his underlings, so no one really knows what buck likes cause he’s never seen with any men or women. or so people think… enter bucky omg this man is like. lowkey nicknamed mad dog with the way he’s at buck’s heels, always standing by the door or at the side of buck’s desk when meeting with business partners (and adversaries), just ready for something to go wrong so he can get some action. he’s absolutely brutal, all brass knuckles and split lips, pummelling poor guys into the ground until buck orders him to “lay it off, bucky.” basically buck says jump bucky asks how high. and dude the SEX oh holy mother of god. no one really knows but they know: bucky is all service top giving gale everything he asks for, fucking him nice and good and not coming until buck tells him he can. he’s a good dog after all. maybe at one point someone kidnaps bucky to get back at buck and he kills like half their gang to get him back lol john wick style. and then they fuck nasty blood still everywhere ofc

[gay-jewish-bucky]

Debunking the Claim that Bucky Barnes' Dog Tags "Prove He Cannot Be Jewish"

In 2021 and 2022, when discussing the fact that MCU!Bucky (henceforth referred to simply as Bucky) is based off of Arnie Roth, a gay Jewish man and Steve's childhood best friend, I received pushback from fans telling me that Bucky can't possibly be Jewish due to his dog tags; citing a behind the scenes picture posted by Sebastian Stan to his instagram story.

Transcription of the dog tags:

James B. Barnes (Legal Name) 32557038 (Serial Number*) T41 42 (Tetanus Immunization) O (Blood Type) R. Barnes (Next of Kin) 3092 Stockton RD (Address) Shelbyville IN (Location) P (Religion Marker)

*A serial number starting with a 3 indicated that the servicemember was drafted into the Army, it's important that we do not forget that Bucky didn't chose to fight.

During World War II the dog tags of American service members would have had one of the following regulation religion markers:

P for Protestant (the marker we see on Bucky's dog tags)

C for Catholic

H for Hebrew, this being the marker for 'Jewish'

NO (or left blank) for No Religion

For Jewish servicemembers fighting in Europe, being discovered to be a Jew by your captors–especially if you were captured by the Nazis–carried considerable risk and could mean the difference between life or horrific torture, experimentation and possibly even death.

Some Jewish service members, justifiably incredibly fearful of what could happen if they were found out, would either omit a religion marker altogether or, after getting their tags, would attempt to obscure the 'H' marker in some way so it could not be read by their captors.

While this saved some lives, it was not a perfect and fool-proof system, and we have no way of knowing how many times it failed.

In 1943, the year Bucky was drafted, the Army introduced a more official (and more widely adoptable, and thus widely adopted) option to protect Jews in its ranks:

Through the European Theatre of Operations United States Army, Jewish servicemembers could elect to have the 'H' marker for Hebrew on their dog tags replaced with a 'P' for Protestant.

This would offer Jewish servicemembers a more convincing layer of protection if they were ever captured by the enemy, because, unlike an obscured religion marker (or that lack of one) which could itself draw suspicion, a set of dog tags printed with a 'P' would be entirely indistinguishable from the dog tags worn by a gentile and would be less likely to draw suspicion.

Due to this option being made available to Jewish people serving in the United States Armed Forces, the 'P' marker on Bucky's dog tags not only does not definitively prove that he's really a gentile, in actuality its presence provides even further historical support in favour of him being a Jewish man.

Sources and Additional Reading:

Jewish GIs and Their Dog-Tags by Rabbi Akiva Males - Hakirah

A Star of David for Pvt. Benjamin Garadetsky - Jewish Telegraphic Agency (jta.org)

U.S. Army WW2 Dog Tags | WW2 US Medical Research Centre (med-dept.com)

Do You Know the History of the "Dog Tag" (jcveteranscouncil)

Beyond The Battle: Religion and American Troops In World War II (uky.edu)

World War II and American Jewish Identity

European Theater of Operations, United States Army - Wikipedia

Pride Month 2022, 40 Years of Arnie Roth and Michael Bech - Marvel Comics: The Queer History Behind MCU Bucky’s Backstory

J.M. DeMatteis, the creator of Arnie, confirming the character's use for MCU!Bucky

Full screenshot of Sebastian Stan's post of the dog tag

How to Decode a WWII US Army Serial Number | Amy Johnson Crow

[yawpyawp]

bucky and fubar IS set in philly, so now that i am an iasip blog i WILL be creating extremely self-indulgent crossover content

“mac tries to pet a service dog” (follow up episode: “mac gets his face broken”)

[blaqcats-fics]

(He’s) Just a Phase — Part 1

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 3.1K

November 1993.

Steve cursed lowly as he tried to light his cigarette. The wind was not on his side today, and he was growing increasingly annoyed with every passing moment.

The day had begun with a literal pile of dog shit. He had woken up, sleeping past his alarm, and his service dog, Bowie, had left him a present. Steve stepped into it and thus set the mood for the rest of the day. From then on, Steve missed the bus, causing having to walk to the music store where he worked out with his guitar case heavy on his back and Bowie at his side. It also didn't help that it had rained the night before and a car passed by without slowing down and drenched him in cold water.

Thankfully he had arrived at work in one piece. He was in break now, letting Bowie take a moment to eat some food and to allow himself a smoke, even though that was becoming a failure itself.

‘Fuck it,’ Steve grunted, running his hand through his hair, grimacing as his hand tangled in his hair. It had grown out far longer than he was used to. It looked like his mother’s hair — long, unruly, and stuck between the questionable state of wavy and curly. He was sure that it rivaled Eddie’s almost, except he didn't have poorly chopped bangs.

He glanced down at Bowie, watching as he finished eating his kibble, before looking up at Steve with big brown eyes. Steve smiled, leaning down, gently petting him as he picked the bowl up. ‘Was it good, boy?’ he asked, chuckling as Bowie’s tail thumped against the ground. ‘Guess so. C’mon, back to work, bubby.’

Steve opened the door to the store, watching as Bowie trotted back inside. Steve followed in after Bowie, going behind the counter. ‘Back from break!’ he called out.

‘Gotcha!’ Sam called back.

Samuel ‘Sam’ Carter was a fifty-year-old retired drummer, and Steve’s boss. He was intimidating to look at, covered in tattoos from head to toe, and fitted into a biker-gang aesthetic, but despite the intimidating exterior, Sam was a sweetheart. He was also one of the few people Steve met in the past month that was helping him understand the current queer culture.

Sam, surprisingly, was an active member of the drag community in Seattle and was more than happy to take Steve under his wing, saying that Steve looked like a lost puppy begging for shelter.

Steve was a lost puppy looking for shelter when he came to Seattle. He had left Indianapolis on a whimand didn't stop to think of the consequences. Luckily, Sam was able to situate Steve with a job and a place to stay.

‘Oh, yeah, kid!’ Sam called, walking out from the back of the store, clipboard in hand from doing inventory. ‘Gale called and said she found something that you might be interested in.’

Steve glanced at him as he opened the cash register to count the cash for the third time. ‘What’d she say?’

‘Anthem, the bar down where Gale works, is having an open mic night. Gale says there may be a producer there, but she can't promise anything,’ Sam said, walking to the counter. He paused and made a scrunched face at Bowie, speaking in a baby voice at him.

Steve rolled his eyes at Sam’s actions, but was otherwise interested. This was an opportunity, even if it could be a failure. ‘She say what time it was?’

‘Around 9 tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Steve exclaimed. ‘I don't gave anything to play! Fuck!’

Sam scoffed, ‘I’ve seen you scribble in that notebook of yours; you have something.’

Steve chewed on his lip anxiously, glancing down as Bowie nudged his leg. He took a shaky breath, fixing his glasses on his face that had gradually fallen down his face. ‘Those aren't lyrics. They, uh, I don't know, it's just venting.’

‘Sounds close enough to music for me,’ Sam said. ‘How about this, I’ll call Rachael to cover your shift, and you go figure your shit out for tonight. You ain't going to get anywhere without nipping opportunities by the ass. You aren't going to get your man back without working for it.’

Steve hummed, nodding. He didn't bother correcting Sam. This wasn't about getting Eddie back. He was sure Eddie was happier off without him lingering in his shadow. Life had just started to work out in Eddie’s favor. All Steve wanted to do was apologize and make up for hurting Eddie, even if hurting him had never been his intention.

‘Oh, before you head out, Paul can't do their routine Saturday night, do you want to fill in their spot?’ Sam asked. ‘I know you aren't familiar with the scene, but stepping out if your comfort zone can be fun sometimes.’

Paul (Monique on Saturdays and Mondays) was one of Sam’s liners at the club he owned. They were one of the more popular drag queens that worked there. Steve enjoyed their shows, finding them loud and exciting. However, Steve never found himself wondering what it was like to be a queen.

Steve shook his head, ‘If it was Minnie, maybe. Paul is too much of a star to fill in for.’

Sam snorted, ‘Ain’t that the damn truth. You’d make a pretty girl, Stevie.’ He sent Steve a wink.

‘I think I need to finish sorting out my internalized homophobia before I start examining gender and how I want to be perceived. I don't need to give myself a stroke,’ Steve grinned. He picked up his case, adjusting it comfortably on his back. ‘Plus, if I had a pair of tits, I don't think this world would survive.’

‘Christ, kid,’ Sam laughed. ‘Get out of here.’

Steve rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face. He called Bowie and left for home. He knew that if Eddie was still with him, he'd love to meet Sam.

That night, despite practicing for hours, Steve could feel his skin crawling. He was a bundle of nerves and he left as if someone had jump-started his heart with a faulty engine. For a brief moment, Steve wondered if Eddie always felt this way before going on to play a show. Maybe, but Eddie was always a bundle of nerves.

‘You good, ‘Evie?’ Gale asked, handing him a shot. ‘Look like you could use some liquid courage.’

Steve glanced down at the shot and hesitated. He started at it for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Best not. My nerves already make me sick to my stomach,’ he said.

Gale shrugged, taking the shot and downing it herself. ‘More for me,’ she winked. ‘You ready to play your little heart out?’

‘No,’ Steve said, raw honesty in his voice. ‘Performing was never my thing. I don't think it even is my thing. I was good at sports in high school like I was a full-on jock, but this? I wouldn't gave touched this with a twenty-foot pole.’

Gale hummed, her eyes fleeting over him, taking in his appearance. ‘Sure don't look like a jock now with that hair of yours, and that outfit. It screams homeless instead of jock,’ she joked.

‘I got it from Walmart,’ Steve frowned. ‘It was comfy and cheap.’

The woman sighed, ‘Baby, you look like the bastard child of Kurt Cobain, but with Tommy Lee’s stupidly sexy hair.’

Steve stared at her. ‘I know Cobain is from Nirvana, but who the hell is Tommy Lee?’

‘Some pretty boy from Mötley Crüe,’ she explained. ‘They’re either a metal or rock band. Who knows the damn difference?’

Eddie does, Steve’s mind supplied.

He pulled his gaze away from Gale, looking at the stage, listening to, well, something. ‘Is that poetry?’

‘Kind of,’ she said with an uninterested shrug. ‘Spoken word, I think. You like it?’

Steve scrunched his nose, ‘Not my cup of tea.’

‘It’s powerful,’ Gale said. ‘It were louder, maybe I would like it, but eh.’

‘Eh,’ Steve agreed. He glanced around the bar before settling his gaze back on Gale. ‘Sam said something about a producer?’

Gale rose her brows, ‘Is that why're so worked up?’

Steve felt his cheek warm. ‘Possibly.’

‘I don't know kid. Boss told me that there could be one, but didn't give me a name or a face.’

‘Shit,’ Steve grunted. That made his anxiety even worse. Actually, Steve wasn't sure if it did make it worse. The dread had already been lingering, but now it felt more real.

‘You’ll be fine. I'd be more worried if you didn't know how to song,’ Gale joked. She glanced down towards the end of the bar where an older man was flagging her. ‘You’re on next, ‘Evie. Take a breath and focus on the reason you're even out here.’

Steve didn't say anything as she walked away. He glanced back at the stage, swallowing the lump in his throat. He pushed himself off of the stool, moving through the small crowd of people and he suddenly felt as if he was back in Indianapolis, pushing through the crowd, looking for Eddie. It was a familiar, but ghostly feeling that made the hairs on the back of his hair raise.

That had been the year's ago, and Eddie was far from his reach.

‘A round of applause for Kaitlynn and James for their wonderful performance!’ the announcer spoke loudly into the mic. Steve couldn't remember his name. It was Dave, Derek, or something. He knew it started with a D. ‘Next up in tonight’s roster is the mysterious ‘Evie!’

Steve licked at his front teeth, sucking in a breath. He went to the stage, passing by Kaitlynn and James. He took a moment to pull his guitar from his case, checking the tuning before sitting down on a bench in front if the microphone. He coughed slightly, the sound feeling the room. ‘A big thank you for anyone who came out here tonight. My name is ‘Evie and this is my song, uh, enjoy?’

‘Evie was a stage name. Gale and Sam suggested he used one, even if it wasn't far off from his actual name. It helped hide him for now, at least until photographs were involved, and Steve did whatever he could do to avoid his face being anywhere.

There was a small applause of encouragement and a loud whistle that most likely came from Gale. His lip switched and he adjusted the weight of his guitar in his hands.

‘I’m starting at the glass in front of me,’ he sang, voice loud in the room, the microphone and speakers filling the room with his voice. ‘Is it half empty? Have I ruined all you’ve given me?’

He strummed the guitar, his stomach twisting in knots as he sang. He didn't know if it came from the anxiety of performing or from how a giant lump of panic started to form in the back of his throat.

He took a deep breath, pushing the lump away, his eyes stinging. ‘Don’t tell me I will make it on my own. Don't leave me tonight. This heart of stone will sink ‘til it does if you leave me alone,’ he sang, his voice cracking.

Steve remembered the long nights when sleep never plagued him. He remembered sitting up in bed, giving his attention to an unaware and sleeping Eddie. He used to watch him sleep and watched as all the stress lines were even out on his face, making him look younger. Eddie had looked so peaceful, and sometimes Steve would stare and count the light freckles that kissed his face. It was his form of counting sheep.

‘Don’t tell me I will make it on my own. Don't leave me tonight. This heart of stone will sink ‘til it does if you leave me tonight. Don't leave me tonight,’ Steve sang, tears glued to his lashes as he played the last few notes.

He blinked away the tears, moving his eyes to rub them away. He could barely hear the applause over the loudness of his thoughts. He sent the crowd a weak smile before moving and heading off stage, not bothering to stop and put his guitar away. He merely grabbed the case and walked back to Gale.

‘Give me a Long Island,’ he mumbled, taking a moment to put the guitar up and leaning it against the bar.

Gale reached out and touched his shoulder. ‘Baby, you sure you don't want something lighter? We both know you're a lightweight.’

‘That’s the point,’ Steve mumbled. He knew better than to develop a co-dependency on alcohol. That was how you get addicted to it, but addiction runs in his veins and for once, Steve wanted to bury the voices.

The woman sighed, ‘I’ll get you a drink, but it's not going to be a Long Island. Go sit in one of the private rooms, I’ll get Frankie to bring you the drink.’

Steve nodded, getting off the bar and moving through the crowd again, heading towards the back.

‘Hey! Excuse me!’ someone called out. Steve ignored them, figuring that they were just trying to get through the crowd of people like he was. ‘Wait a second! ‘Evie!’

Steve paused, turning around, frowning as a smaller woman made her way to him. She couldn't be much older than he was, but she looked far more foot together then he did. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘What’d you need?’

‘Mind if I join you? I saw you were heading to the private rooms,’ she said.

Steve frowned, ‘Uh, if you're trying to like, um, you know...’

She must have caught on to what he was saying and flushed red. She waved her hands frantically. ‘No! No! Not at all. Happily married with two demons to prove,’ she said, wiggling her hand, showing off the simple silver band.

‘Oh, shit, sorry,’ Steve said, flushing in embarrassment. ‘You call your kids demons?’

The woman merely shrugged, ‘They sure the hell aren't angels. Either way, mind if I join you? Rather not have a conversation in the midst of chaos, ya’ know?’

Steve nodded. ‘Yeah, of course. What’s your name?’ he asked, leading her to the back.

‘Kacey Williams,’ she introduced. ‘I’m a talent agent from Los Angeles.’

Steve stumbled over his feet a bit. His hand froze above the doorknob, turning to look at her with a deer-caught-in-headlights look. ‘You’re a talent agent?’ his voice cracked.

‘Yes, sir,’ she beamed. ‘I’m technically on vacation, but talent waits for no one! Even if you were a bit nervous.’

‘Was it really that noticeable?’ he sighed. ‘I told Gale, the bartender, that I’m new on the scene, or whatever it’s called. Music wasn’t an interest until recently.’

Kacey hummed. ‘First time preforming then?’

Steve shrugged, opening the door and letting her go in first. He closed the door behind him, moving to set his case on one of the sofas. ‘In front of a lot of people, yeah.’

‘Well, it could have gone worse. Like you could have froze up or throw up on the front row,’ she said, sitting in a chair.

‘I doubt I would even have stage fright. I'm used to being looked at all the time. I justed to be on the swim team, and I played basketball for a while.’

‘Reformed jock. Who would have guessed?’ Kacey grinned. ‘Well, there's a bit to work on, but would you be interested in giving stardom a chance? You have something that I think a lot of people need to hear.’

Steve sighed, sitting next to the guitar case. He brushed his hair from his face. ‘I’m going to be honest with you,’ he said. ‘I only came tonight in hopes to meet an agent, and here you are, but what I’m doing with my music — it’s not what you probably want to deal with.’

Kacey hummed, ‘I think I'll decide that for myself. Tell me what I could be working with.’

Steve chewed on the inside of his mouth and picked at the hole in his jeans anxiously. ‘Back in ‘89, my ex and I broke up. Uh, I fucked ruined our relationship. I made a lot of mistakes. They were tired of being second to everything, and they wanted more. So, yeah.’

‘That doesn't tell me why your here, attached to your shitty guitar, looking for an agent.’

Steve snorted. ‘I couldn't get my head out of my ass for a while. At least not until recently. I want to apologize for the damage I did — the relationship I ruined with my unfair opinions. I just can't reach them right now, they're too far out of my reach. If I get my voice out there, then maybe they could hear me.’

‘So you want to get your ex back?’

‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘That’s too selfish and way to much to ask. They have a steady life. They seem happy. I'm not going to fuck it up by trying to win them back. I just want them to know that I'm sorry. Maybe its closure for myself.’

Kacey hummed, ‘And what's going to happen if you go big, get your voice out there? What are you going to do afterwards?’

‘Finish my contract up. Go home and go back to working the same nine-to-five job,’ he said.

‘That’s depressing, ‘Evie,’ she said.

‘It’s life,’ he said back. ‘There’s something else I want to do, if I were to get into the scene. It's my plan that you might not like.’

Kacey leaned back, pausing when Frankie walked in, handing Steve his drink. She spoke up after Frankie left. ‘What’s your plan?’

‘I want to be open about my sexuality,’ Steve said. He swallowed thickly. ‘I don't want to hide the fact that I’m bisexual, and I don't want to hide the fact that every song I have ever written is about a man that I would kill for.’

Kacey stared at him, eyes wide. ‘That’s asking for death threats.’

‘Bowie is out. Elton John is out. Freddie Mercury was out. It may not be accepted still, but why do I have to hide when they didn't?’

‘It’s more complicated than that, I think,’ Kacey breathed. ‘But you doing this, it might ruin your reputation and the offers you receive. It’ll be hard.’

‘I’m prepared to do whatever it takes,’ Steve said seriously.

Kacey nodded. She opened her purse, pulled out a card, handing it to him. ‘This is my business card. I don't give these to many people, so don't go sharing it around. Think about what you want to do, then give me a call Monday morning. If you still want this Monday, with the risk, then I’ll work on getting you a plane out to LA,’ she said.

Steve looked at the car, nodding. He already had his answer. Monday he would call her. That was his only option — risks included.

NOTE: thank you guys for reading and the reblogs! if you want to be on the tag list, just comment that you want to be! i’m not sure how frequent these updates are, but my mind is brewing a lot of ideas. at the top, there's a link to the series masterlist which also has a master list to my other works (which are on ao3)! the song attached is the one Steve sang for open mic :)

TAGLIST: @swimmingbirdrunningrock x @cinnamon-mushroomabomination x

[storiesforallfandoms]

Masterlist 3!

Here’s the third masterlist for all of my works! If you want to check out more of my work, here’s the links for masterlist one and masterlist two Imagines marked * are smutty imagines! Imagines marked ` are requests! Imagines marked ⭐ are personal favorites!

IMAGINES

STRANGER THINGS small ~ jim hopper` dance with me ~ eddie munson ⭐ starry night ~ steve harrington* (part five) ⭐ at the hip ~ steve harrington` ⭐ triple date ~ steve harrington (part six) ⭐ the freak ~ steve harrington (part seven) ⭐ oblivious ~ eddie munson ⭐ jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson ⭐ this is music ~ eddie munson` ⭐

SUPERNATURAL strange human feelings ~ castiel` cleaning ~ dean winchester`

HANNIBAL into fiction` sob story ~ hannibal lecter

THE BOYS obsession ~ billy butcher* ⭐ herogasm ~ soldier boy* ⭐ alone on christmas ~ billy butcher can’t get too close ~ billy butcher ⭐ change in a heartbeat ~ billy butcher ⭐ the bad room ~ homelander ⭐

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY life father ~ diego hargreeves` rescue mission ~ klaus hargreeves’ ⭐

THE LAST OF US (HBO) friendly neighbors ~ joel miller ⭐ too sweet ~ joel miller

BARRY attraction ~ barry berkman` treat him better ~ barry berkman

AMERICAN HORROR STORY late night sins ~ xavier plympton (1984)*`

VICTORIOUS lost dog ~ tori vega` junker ~ beck oliver

HEMLOCK GROVE i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey ⭐

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES roses are red ~ damon salvatore` ⭐

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH captive ~ blackbeard/ed teach ⭐

PEAKY BLINDERS moved on ~ thomas shelby

FUTURE MAN winner ~ josh futturman* ⭐

GAME OF THRONES littlest lion ~ oberyn martell (part one) ⭐ freedom ~ oberyn martell (part two) ⭐

THE WITCHER destiny ~ geralt of rivia

DOCTOR WHO looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor ⭐

BRIDGERTON by the lake ~ benedict bridgerton

HEMLOCK GROVE important buisness ~ roman godfrey* ⭐

THE GENTLEMEN the assistant ~ raymond smith ⭐

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN spirit of nature ~ jack sparrow`

THE MAZE RUNNER i’ll keep you safe ~ newt`

MARVEL how things are now ~ marc spector and steven grant` ⭐ kneel ~ loki* the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes fast ~ pietro maximoff ⭐ shared trauma ~ logan howlett making amends ~ bucky barnes

1917 early morning ~ will schofield*`

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez ⭐

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S i need someone older ~ william afton ⭐ the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt

SALTBURN new toy ~ felix catton ⭐ partners ~ oliver quick ⭐

THE SANTA CLAUSE santa’s sister-in-law ~ bernard the elf

8 MILE one of the guys ~ jimmy smith jr ⭐

THE FALL GUY the space cowboy and the pa ~ tom ryder

A QUIET PLACE i’d find you in any life ~ eric ⭐

GLADIATOR II betrothed ~ emperor geta ⭐

DON’T WORRY DARLING a perfect world ~ jack chambers ⭐

PETE DAVIDSON your gift` favoritism`

HARRY STYLES the perfect tree a star in the making` sleepy head`

MACHINE GUN KELLY baby mama` ⭐ my queen*` getting your attention*` all the mistakes` not what it looks like` can’t keep doing this*`

EMINEM may the best artist win*` too close for comfort` ⭐ when it’s wrong but it feels right` in the dressing room*` he’s acting different` we have to stop meeting like this` every inch*` let’s surprise the world` i’m sorry i let you down` public service announcement`

GOODGUYFITZ wake up call*`

CORPSE HUSBAND letting go` they forgot` ⭐

ASHTON IRWIN home life` cover me*`

CONAN GRAY pushing`

MATTHEW LILLARD accidental drunk confessions` an out there request (w/ skeet ulrich)*`

JOHNNY KNOXVILLE feeling good*`

ALEX TURNER more than a song*` ⭐

BO BURNHAM can’t handle this right now ⭐ look at me*`

KRISTEN STEWART special customer`

TARON EGERTON he already has my approval ⭐

ROBERT PATTINSON my favorite superhero

GERARD WAY good girl*`

GWILYM LEE history repeats itself`

RYAN GOSLING play date`

JOSEPH QUINN bad idea, right? ⭐ icdiwabh ⭐

RANBOO fluffy haired gamer boy`

JACOB ELORDI height advantage`

MOTLEY CRUE she is mine ~ mick mars`

CHRIS EVANS not used to normal` ⭐

SWAGGERSOULS our next step`

JSCHLATT too far ⭐ the hotel room* ⭐ a winter night at rockefeller

JOHNNY DEPP just for us`

TRAVIS BARKER the parent trap`

SKEET ULRICH an out there request (w/ matthew lillard)*`

DAMIEN HAAS our own after party

SHIPS

family reunion ~ hermione granger x draco malfoy` another man in a red suit ~ deadpool x spider-man ⭐

HEADCANONS

showing pedro pascal fan edits ⭐ sitting on jschlatt’s lap ⭐ surprising ted and tucker during chuckle sandwich (jschlatt) billy butcher’s secret pleasure ⭐

NSFW ALPHABET

rook (jp capellette)*` eddie munson* ⭐ billy butcher* ⭐

[thatsrightice]

are there any excerpts from Crosby’s memoir about Gale you could post, if that’s alright? I’m really curious about him!

Thank you for the ask, I am more than happy to oblige! Just as a little note, I think both Egan and Cleven were nicknamed Bucky, but the show made one Buck and one Bucky so that people wouldn’t get them confused. Also, Crosby never really mentions Cleven without mentioning Egan which is kind of a testament to their relationship. There’s a lot of them btw so most of them will be under the cut! :)

*

"You fly tomorrow," Bucky Elton told us. He was Squadron Operations Officer. Both leaders had the same nickname. In the Group we had Bucky Egan, Bucky Elton, and Bucky Cleven. Cleven and Egan were best friends, top flyers, devil-may-care. All the 100th pilots wanted to be like them.

*

"What I can't really handle is that when Cleven and Egan were still around, the men were happier. With them gone, the heart of the 100th has stopped beating." - Harry Crosby

*

Then come the four squadron commanders, with Bucky Egan and Bucky Cleven together. They, more than any other of our leaders, had the real Air Corps raunch, their hats cocked on the backs of their heads. Egan's white fleece-lined jacket is his trademark. They both are wearing white scarves.

Egan and Cleven trade quips with their men as they walk forward. I don't normally use the word "debonair," but that's what they are. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan are like what their men saw in the movie I Wanted Wings. The men wanted leaders like that. Cleven's real first name is Gale, and Egan's is John, but I never heard either name used.

The two Buckys talk like Hollywood. The first time I ever saw Cleven was at the Officers' Club. For some reason he wanted to talk with me, and he said, "Taxi over here, Lootenant."

*

The Group Navigator [Omar Gonzalez] is a first lieutenant from San Antonio, Texas. Because of his skin color and his quiet diffidence, he doesn't belong up there with the boisterous, swaggering Egan and Cleven. Egan calls him "Pancho." Cleven calls him "Omar the Tent Maker."

*

When we all assembled on the airfield for parade, our lines were straggly and our men out of step. When the squadrons stood by for inspection, Colonel LeMay didn't see Cleven. When he asked where the squadron commander was, the first sergeant responded, "He took to the woods." This did not surprise LeMay who had heard from our previous commanding officers, Turner and Huglin, that Cleven and Egan were at the root of the 100th's raunchy discipline.

On the next day, Bucky even gathered up the enlisted men who worked at 350th Squadron Headquarters and told them he was going to make up for the indignity they had suffered the day before. He took them out to the flight line and loaded them up in an old stripped-down B-17E, which our group brass used for joyrides and taxi service. Since it had no guns or armaments, it was light and Cleven could fly it like a P-39 fighter plane.

Apparently Cleven had phoned some of his pilot training classmates who were now assigned to P-47's and arranged a surprise. The E was hardly off the runway when it was "attacked" by three American fighters.

For the next twenty minutes, Cleven-whose superb skill as a pilot no one questioned-wrung that old plane out as though it was a Piper Cub. He twisted and turned and plunged, all in a simulated dog fight with his three fighter pilot chums. The three Thunderbolts buzzed the 17 and came within inches of it.

The ground-duty enlisted men in the plane probably never forgot that flight, but it hardly was what the 100th needed at that time. When the fight was reported by the British Home Guard observation team, the report did the 100th no good.

*

The "Two Buckys," John Egan, commander of the 418th Squadron, and Gale Cleven, of the 350th, were the heart of the original 100th-dashing, undisciplined, superb pilots, exactly what Hollywood expected them to be. When they were shot down, even over Bremen (October 8, 1943), and Egan over Münster (October 10), the 100th was devastated-and a new era began.

*

We knew that Bucky Cleven's plane had been hit badly just before Regensburg, and we had heard that he and the pilot, Norman Scott, had differed about what to do. When we got on the ground in Africa, there seemed to be no tension between the two of them, and Scott was laughing and joking just like the rest of us.

According to the Lay report, after the hits, the pilot had pleaded with Cleven to abandon ship. When Cleven refused to ring the bell, Scott had gotten up and started to leave alone. At this point, "although the odds were heavily against him, Major Cleven's reply was as follows: 'You son of a bitch, you sit there and take it."

Lay's report continued, "These strong words were heard over interphone and had a magical effect on the rest of the crew, and they stuck to their guns."

For this, Colonel Lay recommended Bucky Cleven for the Congressional Medal of Honor. The citation was scaled down a bit, and he did get the Distinguished Service Cross.

This story electrified the base, a triumph for the group's most admired twosome. Already Cleven and Egan were the 100th Group heroes. New crews almost immediately began to talk like the two squadron commanders. In the Officers' Club or at Group Ops, young flyers circled around them, and watched the two fly missions with their hands. Enlisted men adored them. Pilots wanted to fly the way the two Buckys did. Back in the days before anyone knew what a role model was, Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan were the role models of the 100th.

When the story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post it made Bucky Cleven a national hero.

*

From the tail: "High squadron lead gone. There it goes."

It can't be. Bucky Cleven is in that plane. He is indestructible.

No German alive could get him.

*

The British lorry drives off with our profuse thanks. Just as we climb into one of the base personnel carriers, Colonel Harding drives up in his sedan, with Bucky Egan behind him in another car.

A volley of words.

"We thought you had it!"

"We got reports that four chutes got out.”

"Did you see Bucky Cleven get it?"

We take the enlisted men to their quarters. Since we have not eaten since morning, we need food. We look at our watches: 1930 hours. The Flying Mess will be closed. We head for the Officers' Club.

As we enter, officers, ground and air alike, look up. Stunned.

"It's Blakely's crew!"

Pandemonium. Every man in the club, even the enlisted waiters, rush up and pound us on the back. At least half of them offer us their drinks.

"We thought you bought it!"

"They reported four chutes."

"Did you see Major Cleven blow up?"

*

Bucky Cleven, the impervious, the invincible, was gone. If he couldn't make it, who could? His good friend, Bucky Egan, didn't talk much that night.

*

The loss of Bucky Cleven over Bremen and Bucky Egan over Münster seemed to have cut the heart right out of the the 100th. Without them the 100th was a shadow.

*

Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan, the two squadron leaders who went down over Bremen and Münster, were the very soul of Romanticism. They hated discipline. I told Landra that discipline was called "chicken shit." Like the two Buckys, our pilots all wanted to be dashing individualists.

*

Jack Kidd, John Bennett, and Tom Jeffrey showed us how to win a war. Bucky Cleven and Bucky Egan gave the 100th its personality. Bob Rosenthal helped us want to win the war.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

finished the eps so here's some zombies lore and tidbits from the re-animated series:

bonzo and willa have the same shoe size (10 3/4 in men's and 12 3/4 in women's)

bucky loves cool frogs and hates all dogs (except for barky)

willa has been wearing the same boots every day because she became the alpha of their pack while wearing them (they are now destroyed)

bree runs the lost and found department and addison is her secretary

seabrook high has a drama department, a marching band, a water polo team, and a clown club

there are zed, addison, and eliza clones living in a neighboring town

there are alien-specific classes led by a computer robot in the mothership

zed has physical cards with drawings of him and eliza that act as "best friend cards"

bonzo was born on january 28th in 2007

zed and addison regularly use whiteboards to plan stuff

zed has a habit of smooth-talking his way out of and into things (including, but not limited to, getting extra food from lunch ladies, convincing eliza and addie to do things with/for him, and convincing a possessed dae to hold off on destroying the world)

there is a sentient blob that attends seabrook high

bonzo works at bree's family's diner which is called grammykin's griddle

wyatt's a february pisces and eliza is a virgo

the werewolves celebrate numerous meat-themed holidays like porksgiving, beefapalooza, and vealentine's day

werewolves also have a great meat hunt that involves one werewolf being picked to hunt an unchecked apex predator in the woods and bring it back for the pack to eat

there are now zombie dogs due to another soda incident

principal lee has a sister who is pregnant (or has a very young baby)

wynter has an uncle named uncle wolfchowski

zed's favorite color is decomp green with light saturation

coach used to be best friends with the solstice slasher that haunts the woods

zombie strength can hold back a moving car

there are many pet sitting services in seabrook (some names include waggedy ann's, be on all four seasons, and harry poopins)

eliza created their universe's version of tik tok called shrimp tok

addison can't wink

moonstone necklaces were first created by a werewolf named wilhelmina lykenlolly

werewolves and sasquatches are century long enemies

eliza and wyatt are vegetarians

zed, wyatt, bree, and eliza play dungeons and dragons together and zed runs the campaign (zoey now also plays with them by the end of the episode)

aliens hatch out of spotted eggs and have a hatch-uation

a-spen is mothership's favorite alien

part 2 part 3

[rogueddie]

Steve gets a service dog named Bucky and he jokes that it's his own mini-Robin and that he always has her with him keeping him safe and happy now, even when she's too busy to be there herself

[fandomfluffandfuck]

thinkin’ about Bucky who is freshly released from HYDRA, still wary and a little bit feral. He doesn’t know how to manage himself and his new freedom, and neither does Steve.

But they both know that the only person they really feel comfortable around is each other.

Bucky curls tight into Steve at night, under blankets and as close to Steve as possible. Steve holds him like it’s his only job in the world, because to him it is. He holds Bucky’s waist and calls him a good boy, says he’s so loved and so safe. Bucky practically purrs, and responds in a litany of languages.

“Мой. Мой Стиви.” he’ll whisper, and Steve will press a kiss to his nose or forehead and Bucky will melt further into him.

He doesn’t go outside of the apartment much. Being tortured by a secret agency for 90 years will give anyone agoraphobia. So Bucky sticks to Steve’s side at all times, and Steve is more than happy to shower his sweet angel with all the love and affection he has in him.

So it’s not unusual when Steve will be working on the couch and Bucky will come up with a blanket draped over him and a tired look on his face. Steve will just set his work aside, open up his arms, and hold his perfect boy until he falls asleep. He’s had to learn a bit of Russian to be able to understand his baby, especially when he’s really tired.

“Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?” Bucky will ask, and even if it takes Steve a minute to understand, he’ll nod and turn on the nature documentary.

It’s progress when Steve comes home to find fresh cookies on the counter, and a proud Bucky sitting on the couch.

“Did you make these, Bucky?” Steve will smile, and Bucky will nod happily.

Steve will lean down and kiss him and Bucky will purr and smile brighter than Steve’s seen since he left HYDRA.

And it’s even more progress when Bucky calls Steve on a Wednesday afternoon, and starts rambling in quick Russian (or is it Ukrainian? Steve has a hard time telling sometimes) and Steve has to tell him to slow down.

That’s when Steve learns that Bucky went on a walk today with the service dog provided by SHIELD. All by himself. Steve quickly excuses himself from the building and runs home to shower his darling in praise and cuddles because he is so goddamn proud of him.

Bucky giggles and kisses back, and Steve is totally not crying because he’s getting his best guy back.

That’s all!! Just wanted to share my silly stucky thoughts with you!

Google translated, take with a grain of salt, lol:

"Мой. Мой Стиви." My, my Stevie "Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?" Can we watch a nature show?

S O B B I N G

Feral Bucky is the fucking worst because he rips my heart out but also the fucking best because there's just...

🤌🏻something about him🤌🏻

So damaged and broken yet so innocent and sweet, too. Burdened by so much but not by social norms. You know. You understand. Clearly.

Feral Bucky, who struggles with words but is especially physical and needy in that way, lives in the deepest parts of my soul. It worms its way into my brain and makes me feral. Words are hard, but touch is easy--when it's Steve, touch is easy.

This is beautiful. Thank you. I love this. I hold it very close to my chest.

[marveltrumpshate]

December 2024 MTH fills

Happy new year! What better way to usher in 2025 than diving into fanworks? Here are the MTH fills shared with us in December.

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024

Our AO3 collection (only has works posted to AO3; see "subcollections" for specific auction years)

Completed works tag list

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type. 

SOLO CHARACTERS

Bucky Barnes

Dogsled - "The Lost Day One Journal of James Buchanan Barnes, formerly The Winter Soldier" (handwritten journal belonging to MCU Bucky retelling his journey after the fall of Hydra and filled with recovered memories) for @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy

Kurt Wagner

@tiffycat - Art of 616 Kurt Wagner in his Uncanny Spider-Man costume, holding a glowing sword for @thelonebamf

Remy LeBeau

Jason K Jones/@jkjones21 - Art of 616 Remy flinging his cards for @corsets-and-cardigans

Steve Rogers

@secondalto - Cross stitch of the Captain America shield and the phrase "Obidience [sic] is not patriotism" for @betheflame

GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

Clint Barton & Loki

Griselda Gimpel/@griseldagimpel - "What Happened in Budapest" (MCU fic where Loki visits Natasha and then Clint to get their account of what happened in Budapest) for @pawpawholler

Jeff the Land Shark & Kamala Khan & Gwen Poole

Jason K Jones/jkjones21 - Art of 616 Jeff the Land Shark, Kamala, and Gwen Poole enjoying a day at the beach for Lore

Loki & Natasha Romanov

Griselda Gimpel/griseldagimpel - "What Happened in Budapest" (MCU fic where Loki visits Natasha and then Clint to get their account of what happened in Budapest) for pawpawholler

SHIPS

Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton

@ghostcwtch - Podfic of "Lucky in Love," a non-powered Bucky/Clint AU fic where they meet when Clint thinks Bucky is trying to steal his dog for @drgrlfriend

PoliZ's Stuffed Marvels/@polizwrites - Sleepy hand-sewn Bucky and Clint dolls wearing pajamas in each other's colors and symbols for @rufferto9

Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd

@carcrash429 - Podfic of PandaMoth's "How to Acquire a Crime Lord in 3 Easy Steps," a Bucky/Clint/Jason MCU/DC meet-ugly crossover fic for @esoxwrites

Bucky Barnes/Emily Prentiss

ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)/@film-in-my-soul - Podfic of "Her Guns to His Knives" (MCU/Criminal Minds season 6 Bucky/Emily crossover fic) for @hermit-writes

Bucky Barnes/Peter Parker

EvilDime - "But the Cat Likes Him" (post-No Way Home Bucky/Peter fic where Bucky thinks there's something off about his neighbor whose window Alpine keeps climbing into) for @maukree

@maukree - "Killer Moves" (hitman!Bucky/dancer!Peter AU fic) for lifflufflaff

Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

@daisytarget - Mood board for "No More Mistletoe," an MCU Bucky/Sam Christmas fic for @ineffable-snowman

phobean - Beta service for "No More Mistletone," an MCU Bucky/Sam Christmas fic for ineffable-snowman

Rubick - "Worn Around the Edges" (non-powered Bucky/Sam AU fic where Bucky helps Sam heal as he grieves his partner's death and Sam does the same as Bucky grapples with trauma) for phobean (MTH 2022)

Logan/Wade Wilson

@farmhandler - "Thunderstruck" (MCU/X-Men movieverse Logan/Wade fic where Logan is soft with an insecure Wade) for @some-stars

@finelydressedspacemen - "Heat of the Moment" (Logan/Wade A/B/O AU fic where Logan goes into his first heat in 20 years after a mission goes awry) for @spammooseubi

@panties-on-boys - "Tame" (MCU/X-Men movieverse Logan/Wade fic where Logan is jealous of Wade showering Mary Puppins with love and care) for @lintillathearchaeologist

Loki/Stephen Strange

Laily/@lailyn - "Pretend I'm Not Here" (Loki/Stephen hospital AU fic) for @ruquas (MTH 2023)

Peter Parker/Wade Wilson

Li Izumi/@li-izumi - "Assigned Couple By Ride" (616 Peter/Wade fic where they get paired up on a roller coaster that pairs up singles for the ride) for Hope (MTH 2023)

Peter Quill/Richard Rider

@manofbeskar - Art of 616 Richard Rider flying in space with Peter Quill in his arms for @magicasen

Pietro Maximoff/Peter Parker

@ruquas - "Rhythm of the night" (MCU Pietro/Peter fic where Wanda brings back Pietro from the dead and Peter finds him annoying) for maukree

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

@elwenyere - "However Stern and Iron" (Steve/Tony North and South fusion fic) for @betheflame, @corsets-and-cardigans, @jehbeeeh, @gottalovev, @festiveferret, @vanilla-shoes, @bella-dahlia, and @tehroserose (MTH 2021)

Raine/@meralasan - Art of Tony bandaging boxer Steve's hand for @nostalgicatsea (MTH 2023)

@secondalto - Cross-stitch of Avengers Assemble Steve and Tony relaxing on a couch for @tehroserose

Vanessa Carlysle/Logan/Wade Wilson

@notesappwitch - "where is your boy tonight? (i hope he is a gentleman)" (MCU/X-Men movieverse Vanessa/Logan/Wade fic where Logan backs off from Wade so Wade and Vanessa can rekindle things except they don't and then the trio gets together) for some-stars