I haven't been managing to write alot so here's some Bob Reynolds headcannons instead(some of these might be canon or canon adjacent)
Warnings: mentions of self-harm, drug use, abuse, addiction, depression, bipolar disorder
-he's quiet, it's just something you learn growing up like he did. His steps are light, and he'll often accidentally sneak up on people with how quiet he moves
-he loves animals, and he's like really good with them too. He'd never say he's good with animals- he barely believes it himself, thinks its just dumb luck- but it's so obvious in how they're drawn to him and how much they trust him
-he loves puzzles and rubikscubes and stuff like that. Just solving things and focusing on that helps his mind feel like less of a mess and less overwhelming
-he's very fidgety, but theres a subtle difference in how he fidgets when he's anxious as opposed to just normal fidgeting. When he's at home he sometimes likes having something in his hands to fidget with, often a rubikscube.
-he likes to take things apart and put them back together. He used to do it all the time when he was younger, and his dad would get super mad if he caught him because he didn't think Bob could actually put it back together properly(he could). This also makes him good at fixing things, so when somethings broken in the Watchtower and the team can't be bothered to wait for Val to send someone, Bob fixes it. It's a win-win because it'll be fixed way quicker and Val won't get mad they broke something again and it helps Bob feel useful
-music lover. Music is just such a huge comfort to him and he loves it. He listened to ALOT of music growing up, it was his safe space. But he does have a habit of only putting in one earbud or leaving one ear free while wearing headphones, because growing up he always wanted to be sure he could hear his father- also knowing his dad would get mad if he called Bob and Bob didn't answer- and after that as an addict he was never really in an environment safe enough. He also always wanted to learn an instrument growing up but never really had a proper chance. He learned a little at school but never really got to get good at it because he had to be quiet inside his home, and after he moved out he didn't have the money for an instrument and even if he did he was way too depressed and far gone in his addiction to actually play.
-he mentioned once that he always thought drums were cool and maybe would've played them had things been different, so for his next birthday the Thunderbolts* got him a drumset. He was very hesitant at first because being quiet is still hardwired into him so making alot of noise makes him tense and it just feels wrong, but Yelena encouraged him and he did end up getting into it
-music he's into: Jeff Buckley, Radiohead, Conan Gray(cries to family line obviously), also mitski, phoebe bridgers, boygenius but he has to be careful with what he listens to because music can affect his mood ALOT so listening to the wrong thing at the wrong time could contribute to ending up in a depressive episode
-summer child by Conan Gray is literally him
-movie lover. He loves sci-fi and those really emotional meaningful movies like good will hunting, lady bird, beautiful boy etc but honestly he's open to watching pretty much anything. But again he has to be careful with the media he consumes because it can affect his mood alot.
-he's also big fan of documentaries. Because he dropped out so early and even when he was in school his head was very much somewhere else he just feels like he missed out on a lot of learning- and he actually does like to learn and he's really smart he just missed out on a lot of the basics you learn in school(I think he would've done really well in school had he not had all that other stuff to deal with)- so he likes watching documentaries to gain knowledge. He really likes deep sea stuff and space stuff. But again he'll watch almost anything. He's the type to know the most random facts.
-he LOVES legos. He really wanted them as a kid but never got them, he mentioned it to ava once and ofc she then got him legos
-he loves to read. Self-help books obviously- though if you'd given him a self-help book a few years ago he would've thought it was cringy bullshit probably, but he's slowly learning to be more open and not get cringed out at anything that might actually help him- but he also likes philosophical stuff and occasionally poetry and he also thinks sci-fi is cool and even though he's not really into romance books he appreciates a good romance subplot.
-he loves gaming. Mostly games like mario cart and minecraft and stuff, but has appreciation for genuinly good story games(Ava is really into story games and she recommends them to him sometimes). Really likes playing with others on the team but would never play online with strangers
-he also had a gameboy as a kid, a blue one to be specific
-he really loves sweaters, always has. The large majority of his closet is made up of sweaters. It's honestly ironic since this man does NOT get cold ever he is actually a walking furnace. But he just thinks sweaters are comfortable and they look nice and he likes that they kinda allow him to hide in a way
-rarely wears short sleeves or anything that shows his arms. He has alot of scarring on his arms, both from self-harm and from drug use, so he's pretty insecure about his arms and tries to avoid showing them(also another reason why he prefers sweaters)
-he's a terrible cook. He never really learned to cook properly since he lived of cheap takeout and instant noodles and toast and crap like that, simple cheap meals. He didn't really eat alot anyway because of meth and depression and poverty, usually just out of absolute necessity or occasionally as comfort but yk he usually used meth for that. Instant noodles is absolutely a comfort food for him though, a specific brand and flavor. Even though he's a terrible cook he is absolutely the go to person for anything to treat a hangover. He used to be hungover a lot so he absolutely makes a banger hangover meal and because he was broke he's scrappy with it too. He also makes really nice pancakes. His mom taught him when he was younger and that is genuinly the one normal thing he can make
-his love language is mainly acts of service. Though physical touch is also very important to him(he's deeply touch starved), and he definitly seeks it out once he gets comfortable with people. And words of affirmation are very important for him to recieve, which is why he also often gives words of affirmation to the people closest to him because he understands the value of them. Quality time is also very important to him. But like acts of service is usually his first instinct when showing love
-He has bipolar disorder, like his mom. Didn't know what it was, but he eventually started recognizing the same signs in himself that he'd grown up seeing in his mom, which terrified him. Got diagnosed when he had to go see a state-ordered psychiatrist after getting caught doing some illegal shit. He got meds to start on but he didn't stay on them consistently(not that they helped much when mixed with meth anyway) and eventually he lost them
-he keeps his hair longer because he thinks he looks like his dad too much when it's short. Cuts his hair himself. It used to just be out of necessity because he couldn't afford to go to a barber, but now that he technically could he still doesn't because he's worried they'll cut it too short
-his senses are all enhanced from sentry serum. Like his hearing for example is alot better than before, he can hear like heartbeats and stuff. It took some getting used to, he was very overwhelmed by it at first and it made his anxiety spike
-he never called in sick as a kid because he'd rather be at school then home, until he got a little older and he'd start skipping classes and wandering around, but he'd never ever stay home. The skipping classes wasn't long before he dropped out. Like most things in Bob's life, that kinda went from zero to hundred. He knew skipping too many classes would lead the school to call his parents which would definitely be a great reason for his dad to get mad, so he didn't, but then as his drug problem got worse and worse barely came to school anymore and soon not at all
-Bob often sleeps in random places. He doesn't sleep well at night, insomnia and nightmares piling on, but now that his brain has finally registered the Watchtower penthouse the Thunderbolts* share as safe he falls asleep in really random places, especially when his insomnia is especially bad. That's the thing with Bob, sleep seems to come easier when he isn't thinking about it, when it's just sleep deprivation finally catching up. And despite the Thunderbolts' chaos, Bob's sleep is treated as sacred, lord knows he doesn't get alot of it, and the moment he's woken up theres a good chance he wont be able to sleep again. And they understand it takes alot of trust to let yourself be in your most vulnerable state around others and they take that trust seriously
I’m sorry bob from thunderbolts AND you’re planning on writing Ryland Grace from PHM????
I love you???
Thank you!! Working on a little something for Ryland literally right now(who cares about studying anyway right?). I'm currently pretty busy so it'll probably be a while before I actually get to writing alot of my ideas but my list of ideas is ever-growing🤭
Yess I love the angst! I’d love to see a part 2. I hope it’s ends happily 🥺
I'm so glad you liked it🫶 Part 2 is in the works!! Can't make any promises about when I'll finish it since I'm busy and working on like 5 fics at once tho😭
I can't believe I'm ranting about this again, but fuck Marvel for sending Steve back to the past. Other than the obvious that Steve wouldn't fucking leave Bucky, Peggy was fucking happy. Peggy had a life, she had kids, she had a goddamn husband. She lived a full life, and her entire character, her life and all her struggles were fucking minimized, because for god forsaken reason which I still don't understand, Steve stayed with Peggy. I will say this again. STEVE WOULD NEVER LEAVE BUCKY!!!
Summary: Bob brings his new girlfriend to meet everyone. You try to be happy for him. You really do. But your unresolved feelings make it impossible, and then jealousy comes and burns through any attempt at being happy for him.
Warnings: angst, jealousy, reader has some self-deprecating thoughts, Bob has a girlfriend, reader and Bob are good friends, morally ambiguous reader, reader is bad with feelings, reader wears lipgloss but no further gender description
A/N: My first time posting a fic on tumblr(honestly my first time posting a fic anywhere since I was 12 writing Loki fanfic on Wattpad). I’ve been obsessed with Bob since the movie came out and still haven’t moved on so I have to channel it somewhere. I wrote this while listening to Animals by Maroon 5, because I now relate that song to Bob after watching a Bob edit to it on repeat(by @ laurensfilms.aep on tiktok). Hope you enjoy<3
Word count: 1157
That girl. She’s pretty. Dark hair, dark eyes. Nice, too. So far, at least. You hadn’t listened much to what she had to say- unlike the others, who had suddenly turned perfectly polite. No snide remarks or mocking jokes or threats, just attentiveness like a perfectly normal family- but you’d picked up something about being a barista, and a degree in human services. Cute.
You watch her giggle and blush, smile and compliment. From the moment she walked in with her hand in his, a poisonous feeling had bubbled up inside you, twisting in your chest. She looked smitten. You’d expected that whole Oh he’s a superhero thing. More disconnected adoration than actual feelings. But she’d looked at him with genuine affection. She hadn’t asked for any autograph, but acted like any girl meeting the family. Shy, yes, but nice. The worst part, was that he’d looked back. Smiled at her, introduced her with that shy softness to his voice. You could hear the blush in his voice.
You had promised yourself to be nice. It was your fault, after all. You were the one that had hidden the feeling that always seemed to spark in Bob’s presence, or even when you just thought about him, those butterflies that seemed to go wild in your stomach and the warmth that tightened your chest. You had hidden the way he’d shown up in your dreams with gentle touches, intimate ones. You had torn away your gaze when it lingered and pulled away from his touch. You had ignored the way everyone seemed convinced he felt the same. Ignored the fact that part of you knew it too and avoided everything that might seem like proof to his reciprocation. Of course he had moved on.
And it’s not like the girl had done anything wrong. But instead of smiling, you’d just managed to barely contain a scowl. Instead of joining in on the question round, you’d sat quietly, glaring daggers trying to find anything wrong with her- to make yourself feel better, to get her the hell out of here- and failing while the feeling in your gut threatened to burn through your throat in mean words.
You should go. Should leave and go punch something. But he would know something’s wrong, they all would, and you’re trying to support him. He deserves this. Deserves to be happy. Deserves someone better than you. Someone like her. All of those very rational thoughts don’t seem to do anything in taming the thing clawing at your chest.
The conversation continues, and your eyes stay glued to them-to him-, sitting so close their shoulders brush. Alexei cracks a joke. Something stupid, familiar. But Bob's gaze doesn’t find yours like it so often did, there’s no look of familiarity that makes your chest flutter. He glances at her, sends her an almost apologetic look. She smiles at him, kind, unbothered by the chaos. She almost fits. The conversation turns, scatters into other things, but she’s still there. Sitting next to him, shoulders brushing. She nudges his thigh with her knee, leans closer, says something you don’t catch. He chuckles- that devastating sound that never fails to cut through every layer of armor and nestle its way into your heart-, but his eyes are on her. Not you. Her. And she smiles.
You get up abruptly, pushing yourself from the floor and leaving the room with large steps. You don’t glance back toward the group, just leave with your eyes glued to the floor. You can feel the corners of your eyes sting. You’re not sad. This isn’t heartbreak. You want to punch someone, you want to scream, you want to tear her beautiful dark hair from her scalp. You head straight for the training room, ready to channel your anger into assaulting a punching bag.
You miss Bob mumbling to excuse himself before you’ve even fully left the room. You miss the hurried steps following quickly behind until the door to the training room closes again only moments after you slammed it shut behind you.
You whirl around, fists clenched, to where Bob stands, ruinous worry in his gaze.
“Hey, what happened?”
You cross your arms, forcing back your burning tears, and shake your head. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“You just actually stormed out.” He comments, unconvinced.
“I don’t like her.”
“Kiara?” He frowns, although its more worried confusion.
You nod. “Yeah, I don’t like her.” You repeat for lack of an actual reason, gaze flicking away.
“Why not?” He asks. Theres no judgement in his voice, just genuine question.
You avoid his eye. Because of the embarrassment slowly burning through. For fear he might find everything there.
Anger bubbles up for the fact you can’t match his honesty. Not without laying your whole heart bare.
“I just don’t.” You deflect with an angry shrug. “She’s- She isn’t right for you.”
“What does that mean?” He’s still asking. Just asking, but there’s a sharp edge to his voice now.
“I don’t know. She just isn’t.”
“That isn’t a reason. What’s the actual reason?”
You can’t answer that. You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.
“Fine! You know what? She’s perfect.” Your voice raises gradually. “She’s nice. Pretty, too. She’s good with people, obviously. She’s got a degree and.. she likes you. Like genuinely. She’s perfectly normal and- and perfect!”
“Fine! So what?" His voice is raised now too. He’s not yelling- he never does, even though you’re most definitely yelling at him now.
You finally look at him. There's no answer. There is one. You won’t admit it.
In one swift motion, you take a step forward and grab his face, pulling him toward you until your lips crash together.
You kiss him. Hard.
He’s leaning forward to bridge the distance between the two of you, hands hovering uselessly in the air.
A soft sound escapes him- surprise, need, satisfaction.
You pull back just as harshly, hands falling down to the crook of his neck on either side. There's a moment- like the world paused- where you both just stare, breathing hard.
His lips are swollen, a shine of your lipgloss on them, pupils blown and eyes wide in surprise, his cheeks a delicious shade of pink adorned with a few red spots where your fingers had dug into his skin. The sight makes you want to pull him in all over and not let go this time.
You pull away from him entirely, letting go of him and taking a step back.
You stare for another moment, your feet refusing to move, wiping at your smudged lipgloss with your thumb, your hand lingering there uselessly after, like you can still feel his lips on yours.
He’s standing perfectly still except for his chest rising and falling in heavy motions, stunned.
You tear away your gaze away before you let go of your common sense completely, walking past him out the door without another word.
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