Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

[trashmod]

Okay, kids, you know the drill. Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because hydratrashmeme is about as far from a safe space as you can get. Garbage we like: noncon, whump, aftermath, violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves. Garbage you should find a different trashcan for: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, OOC evil!good guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves, rotting leftovers dressed up as a romantic gourmet meal. Nothing wrong with 'em, but this isn't the crowd you should be pitching to if you're trying to sell Brock Rumlow as anything but a human dumpster fire.

Link your fills on the fill post, post unprompted fills as replies to a header comment so the wall o' text is collapsible, and let me know if you're interested in helping out with the Pinboard archive.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by greenkirtle)] [Round 4 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

All prompts or fills that contain Infinity War spoilers must go on the Infinity War spoiler post until May 26th. Spoilers in the main dumpsters will be deleted.

Round 4 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 5.

Comments

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

This part, this whole part right here:

I approach him and shove him backwards - he retreats/falls into the main opening of the abandoned defence post. I ask him again what year it is. He says 1944. I ask him again. He says 1945. I yell at him, over his answers, demanding repeatedly that he tell me what year it is. He responds with 1939, then 1963, then 1950, then 2000, then 2020, then 1991, crawling further back into the space and becoming distressed. I come closer and he appears to break down, screaming at me 'I don't know, I don't know’. I stop yelling and smack him across the face. He is visibly shaking and says ‘I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’ I kick him in the gut and tell him that he will be sorry.

Holy shit, I love you. This is my jam! My moldy, disgusting jam.

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

OP here - thank you :3 *pours jam on floor and rolls around in it*
I will admit that this was one of the bits which made me almost reconsider the whole 'field report' format, because it might not come across properly - and it was such a vivid image, Rumlow yelling "What year is it?! What year is it?!" as Bucky tries to 1) get away and 2) give the right answer....

(the comments on this give me life in general, it warms my cold dead heart to think that people like it!)

Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

(SA) I'm glad you're enjoying the comments! I'm enjoying this story, so... :D

Seriously though, that whole paragraph gave me chills and feels out the wazoo. The part that got to me the most was when he guessed "2020". Jesus.

Oh, Bucky.

(keep up the fabulous work!)