Thunderbolts - Blog Posts
Thunderbolts* is tomorrow and I'm going to theaters right..... Should I wear my TFATWS Bucky Charms shirt to theaters, it looks like this.
I thought a depressing thought.
Because of Sebastion Stan's cat allergy, does that mean that we can't have Alpine in upcoming MCU movies? I know CGI exists, but I want a real white cat. Our Bucky Barnes needs his emotional support animal like in the comics.
someone (not me) could totally make an edit (definitely not me) of Bob to "forwards beckon rebound" by Adrianne Lenker
currently at €32,917 / €50,000 !!
if i could bring your attention for a second to amal ashour's campaign @amalashuor please. this is vetted #175 on spreadsheet
ive posted about her before, amal is a mother of a young daughter who was only 9 months old when the war began. her and her husband and daughter have lost everything and been displaced many times and now struggle to afford daily necessities. the funds from this campaign have been helping them survive since they have no other income and prices are extremely high in gaza.
unfortunately theyve just been displaced again when the genocidal israeli army ordered them to evacuate deir al-balah and go west, towards the sea. every time that people are displaced in gaza it is extremely expensive and taxing. transportation and fuel prices are high, and because the idf gives little warning and constantly changes "safe zones," people often are forced to leave behind their tents. read amals post where she explains everything theyve been through and how much its cost them in her own words.
its such a scary situation in gaza right now. so many people being forced to leave again to even smaller areas with nowhere to go. thankfully amal and her family have survived so far but she's had to spend a lot of the money from the campaign on these expenses. shes raised the goal of this campaign to reflect this.
amal sent me these messages earlier today... people are trapped in an actual living hell right now. its really far beyond what we can comprehend from the outside.
please keep participating in this campaign and help amal reach her new goal. even small donations add up and make a difference. if you cant donate, share this with someone who can. this is really important
€30,825 raised of €50,000
amvs for palestine 🇵🇸
@spnamvs
how it works
look at the list of participating amv makers and be sure to read what their fandoms are/what theyre willing and not willing to do! it is your responsibility as a donor to make sure your chosen amv maker is willing to fulfill your request!
check to see if your chosen amv maker is spotlighting a specific fundraiser and donate the minimum amount there otherwise donate to any fundraiser from el shab hussein and nabulsi’s vetted list or to gaza esims or crips for esims
dm date and proof of donation with a short prompt (movie/show/fandom, type of music, vibe of the amv) to chosen amv maker, be sure to mention if you are light sensitive/motion sick etc. so they can accommodate you if needed
if the amv maker’s slots are full you can either be put on a waitlist until a slot opens or choose someone else with an open slot
participating amv makers
@amvguy > more info
@clairewolf
@cowboycostume > more info
@deanwinchesterwebsite > more info
@idontwikeit > more info / amvs
@iwtv2022 > more info
@jennaflare > more info / amvs
@kellyscabin > more info
@loust4t > more info / amvs
@maningning > more info / amvs
@terastallized > more info / amvs
here's list of Palestinians who have reached out to me, please donate if you can
posted august 23rd 2024
@ahmed-mohammed1 vetted here €4,935/€30,000
@hadeelmekki vetted here €15,295/€35,000
@mohiy-gaza vetted here $17,546/$31,000
@yazanfamilly vetted here €10,695/€50,000
@olagaza vetted here (line 205) $29,723/$50,000
@ahmedalnabeeh11 vetted here €23,008/€30,000
@save-mohamed-family vetted here (line 192) $9,946/$50,000
@wafaaresh6 vetted here €28,300/€100,000
@atalah-mohammed vetted here €12,735/€82,000
@abdullahgaza vetted here (line 81) €81,851/€120,000
@save-ahmed-family1 €1,023/€20,000
@asmaayyad vetted here €11,646/€45,000
@bisanalbalawi18 vetted here €37,551/€50,000
@ezzaldeens-blog €297/€20,000
@yousefjehad3 vetted here (line 255) $3,487/$15,000
@hanaa-yousef vetted here (line 246) £11,071/£20,000
@noor-alanqar vetted here €20,427/€40,000
@mahmoud-1995 vetted here $11,709/$50,000
@sabahfamily £7,570/£50,000
@fatma--gaza vetted here €5,530/€20,000
@nisreensuhail vetted here €1,984/€50,000
@sameer-family vetted here $2,259/$50,000
@abdelmutei €10,718/€25,000
@safaabed8 vetted here €28,261/€90,000
@kareem-family vetted here €7,252/€20,000
@ahmedhelllis vetted here €10,473/€80,000
@asmaamajed2 vetted here $3,570/$50,000
@shimaajoj2 €3,302/€50,000
@nourfamily1989 vetted here $14,240/$90,000
Help Siraj get to 70k by Thursday!!
Some bloggers were less than pleased with my most recent posts where I talked about how Palestine has become a momentary trend for many, and accused me of trying to "guilt trip". They even predicted that these posts wouldn't bring in any sustained support for Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) and advised me to instead keep it to the point. Well alright then, let's keep it short and get to the point:
Siraj Abudayeh is a journalist who is fundraising to survive and rebuild in Gaza as he has no plans to evacuate
Recently he became the sole provider of FIVE FAMILIES- both his own and that of his parents and married siblings, after they all fled to him to escape the recent IOF attacks.
As he is now fundraising to bear the cost of all 23 family members, he is even more desperate to finish his campaign.
What the family needs most now is access to clean drinking water. With 10 children ( Siraj's sons and their cousins) to take care of and with the polio epidemic spreading in camps, this is imperative.
He has requested us to help him buy a submersible water generator and network tools. This is costly but with water treating plants and other facilities being completely destroyed, this is the only long term solution for now.
For 11 months Siraj has hesitated to buy a water generator. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to manage it while also making sure that his family had something to eat. But since there are more children (all between 6 and 12 years of age) to take care of now, he cannot put this off anymore. The settler state has already unchilded them- they risk their lives and walk long distances to look for drinkable water to carry back in heavy pails, when they instead should have been working on their homeworks or playing. Siraj wants them to at least be relatively safe from having to take such risks to survive.
Siraj needs to reach 70k by THURSDAY, that is within 3 days, so that he can start the process of making a purchase. You said that I do not need to write scathing posts to have your attention, so I am here now requesting you to act upon Siraj’s plea for help.
He is currently only at $65,393 CAD . That is 4.6k away from our next short term goal. Boost and donate and help him access clean water for the children.
[ GFM LINK ] [ Vetting #219]
327 Day 🖐️
Who has never seen a bad day in his life
Ican't live here any longer we
can't bear all this burden while
we are in the prime of our youth
I'm 21 years old
I have live through 8 wars
This is not fair 💥💔🥺
@90-ghost @el-shab-hussein
@nabulsi
Hello👋, 🍉❤️🖤🤍💚
I am reaching out to you today with an urgent plea to support my family, who has been deeply affected by the war. These difficult circumstances have placed unexpected challenges upon us, and we are now struggling to make it through this tough period.
Our immediate goal is to raise 1000 euros to help ease some of the pressure and allow my family to stay strong.
Any contribution, no matter how small, will make a significant difference for us and provide a glimmer of hope during these hard times.💔
I deeply appreciate any support you can offer.Thank you so much for your generosity and compassion🙏
https://gofund.me/107a8322
.
Hello, my name is Abd Alhadi Aburass, and I am from Gaza Palestine 🇵🇸. I write to you today with a heavy heart💔, seeking hope and help. The ongoing conflict has put my family's life in grave danger🙏.
We have lost our home and my advocacy bureau , leaving us with nothing but the clothes on our backs. In search of safety, we have become refugees, fleeing to another city where we now face immense challenges.
The war has torn apart our lives, and we are struggling to find stability in this new place. Basic necessities like food, clean water, and shelter are scarce. The trauma of the conflict weighs heavily on us, but we are determined to rebuild our lives and create a safer future for our children.
We need your support to get back on our feet. Your generous donations will go towards:
• Emergency Shelter: Helping us secure a safe place to live.
• Food and Water: Providing us with essential nutrition and clean water.
• Medical Care: Access to healthcare for our family, especially our children who have been deeply affected by the trauma.
• Education: Ensuring our children can continue their education and have a chance at a better future.
• Rebuilding Livelihoods: Helping us restart our business or find new means of income to become self-sufficient again.
Every Contribution Counts:
No amount is too small. Every dollar brings us one step closer to stability and a chance to rebuild our lives. Your support means the world to us during this dark time.
Thank You:
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for your kindness and generosity. Your support not only helps us materially but also gives us hope that better days are ahead.
Please share our story with your friends, family, and community. Together, we can overcome this hardship and start anew.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Abd Alhadi Abu ras and Family
Thank You:
@ibtisams 🫶🇵🇸 @90-ghost 🫶🇵🇸 @fairuzfan 🫶🇵🇸
@palestinegenocide 🫶🇵🇸 @sar-soor 🫶🇵🇸
@vakarians-babe 🫶🇵🇸 @nabulsi 🫶🇵🇸
@aces-and-angels 🇵🇸 @interfacefox @cosmic-collective-system @finnslay @muchmossymess @rez-urrection @walking-polyp @bibyebae @autisticexpression2 @bisexualchemistry @violetclowns @beefybutchboy @feefal @mobydyke @genderfluidgothwitch @sleepyseaslug @urfavhatesthehungovt @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @morallyrainyday @taviamoth @olovelymoon @jannahswaiting @el-shab-hussein @longlivepalestina @beesofink @curi0uscreature @orchidvioletindigo @sunclownsblog @selamat-linting @girlinafairytale @ragingbullmode @theneutral-zone @thevalaxy @fairuzfan @opencommunion @gorillawithautism @seafoamwoman @emathyst9 @three-croissants @iznabl @nabulsi @sar-soor @appsa @akajustmerry
https://gofund.me/c13ec02d
DONATE TO RESCUE FALASTIN'S FAMILY FROM GAZA
Current goal: 13,122/2,000,000 SEK
Our olive tree is growing thanks to your donations and our hope is unbend. However, every passing minute could bring the worst news to Falastin. Getting food in Gaza is getting harder, and IOF forcing World Food Programme (run by UN) out of Gaza with their attack will not help the situation.
I cannot stress how important and urgent the situation is, every time the campaign stagnates is another time the family will be forced to use the evacuation funds to buy food or water or treat wounds.
Please help Falastin's family see another day.
Please, even 1$ (10 SEK) will help a lot.
Please, share this with other people, and outside of Tumblr too. Share it with your friends, post it on other socials, in discord servers, wherever you can.
LINK TO THE CAMPAIGN AGAIN
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Vetted by @90-ghost and shared HERE
Right now this campaign is number 282 in The Vetted Gaza Evacuation List
Shared with the permission of Falastin herself.
LAST POST with base information about the campaign.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If tony was in thunderbolts as soon as void shows up:
I just wanna say.. Bob “Sentry” Reynolds and Joaquin Torres and Lt. Robert “Bob” Floyd and Lt. Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia. They’re the same dude I’m ngl. Okay not the exact same. But they’re awful similar. Kinda fucks ngl
watched thunderbolts* yesterday
FLORENCE PUGH as YELENA BELOVA in THUNDERBOLTS* (2025)
I love this so much
Patron Saints of Nightmares
Summary : Bucky needs to go on a mission, so he asks the rest of the team to take care of his girl.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) / Platonic!Thunderbolts x reader
Warnings/tags : Thunderbolts* spoilers!!!!!!! Established Relationship. TOWER FIC!!! Fluff, angst. Cursing. trauma. Death, nightmares, sleepwalking, hurt/comfort. Sam and Bucky aren’t mad at each other in this one (Please let me know if I miss anything!!!)
Word count : 4.1k
Note : This story is based on my own experiences with sleepwalking. If you’d like to be on the taglist, message me! It gets lost in the comments sometimes. Enjoy!
The New Avengers weren't as polished as their predecessors. You weren’t even close to the universal beacon of hope they used to be — you flickered and survived.
This team was a patchwork of second chances and shattered pasts, proof that good people came with scars — that good people might have done things that kept you all up at night. It was a miracle anyone got any sleep at all.
Least of all you.
Ever since your first kill, you barely got a full night’s rest.
By the time you joined the team, it had already been years of fragmented rest— twenty-minute naps stolen on ships here, an hour of sleep on dirty cots there. And when sleep did finally drag you under, it was rarely ever peaceful.
Sometimes, the worst part wasn’t even the nightmares. Sometimes it was waking up in the living room, not even in control, your feet bare and your skin clammy from a sleepwalk you didn’t remember beginning.
You’d warned Bucky when you started dating him.
One night, you sat him down while your fingers nervously pulled at the threads on your sleeve and handed him a list. Not a literal one, but it felt like that—“If I start talking in my sleep, don’t wake me up too fast. If I’m not in bed, check the bathtub or the closet. Don’t try to hold me down if I fight in my sleep. Only wake me if it becomes dangerous. But most of the time, it passes. I promise.” And worst of all, “Don’t be scared of me.”
You’d braced yourself for rejection then, for an excuse or another that said “you’re too much.” But Bucky had only taken your hand in his, metal fingers brushing gently against your palm like he understood in a way that no one else ever had.
One night, after you’d had a particularly brutal episode—screaming in your sleep, flinching from his touch even though he’d tried to soothe you—he didn’t say a word.
He just pulled you close once you’d woken, let you curl into his chest with your face pressed against his skin.
“I’m not afraid of you,” he whispered into your hair.
That night, you cried into him until your breathing slowed, and for the first time in a long, long while, you stayed asleep.
Over time, you found a kind of peace with him that you’d never had before. It didn’t fix everything— Bucky would be the first to admit— but it eased your nights. You rested better because he made you feel safe.
On bad days, he’d lie beside you, his arm around your waist, his thumb brushing circles into your side.
And sometimes, when sleep came like a gentle tide instead of a crashing wave, you’d open your eyes in the morning light and find him already awake, watching you protectively.
“You slept,” he’d say with a proud smile, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
For a while, things almost felt normal again. Maybe not perfect, but better— until you and Bucky got dragged to be part of the New Avengers. And just like that, for convenience's sake, you both moved in the Watchtower.
It wasn’t awful. There was always someone around, always laughter coming from the common room. But adjusting was hard.
The bedroom felt too large, the ceilings too high, the Watchtower too big. It was… unfamiliar. Uneasy. Still, with Bucky lying beside you, it was manageable.
But some nights… some nights were worse than others. You’d still find yourself drifting barefoot through the corridors, your eyes glassy, your fingers twitching restlessly. You’d pull open drawers, rearrange cabinets, and unconsciously line pens up in perfect gradients. Once, Bucky found you curled in the closet with a granola bar clutched to your chest. You didn’t remember getting there. You only remembered waking up in his arms, sobbing so hard even though you couldn’t explain why you were upset.
That night, when Yelena peeked out of her room to see what all the commotion was about, Bucky smiled and said, “She’ll be okay, Lena. She just needs some peace and quiet, right, baby?”
You gave a small, hopeful smile. “Y-yeah.”
Because with him there… it really was easier to breathe.
—
The next morning, you asked Bucky to tell the rest of the team of your condition, and he waited until you were in the shower to gather the team in the kitchen. Ava leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, John was already halfway through his second cup of coffee, Bob dropped his book, Alexei was drinking a glass of milk, and Yelena sat on the counter with a knowing look in her eyes.
Bucky didn’t pace or shift or stall. He just said it.
“She sleepwalks, sometimes. Worse when I’m gone. It’s not… always random. It’s tied to stress. Or nightmares.” His voice was gentle. “You might hear her moving around at night, maybe see her organizing weird stuff or… I don’t know, in a closet. Don’t freak out. Don’t wake her up unless she's in danger, Don’t make it a thing.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was understanding.
Yelena gave a small nod and muttered, “I’ve done weirder.” John just said, “Got it, man,” and reached for another coffee pod.
Bucky let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He didn’t want pity for you. He didn’t want tiptoes or whispers. He just wanted you to have a little space to exist without explaining yourself.
And when you wandered into the room an hour later, eyes still a little hazy, no one stared. No one asked questions.
They just said “Hey,” like it was any other morning.
And somehow, that made all the difference.
—
Still, no one got involved... yet.
Bucky was the only one who knew how to reach you. The only person who could read your silences like sentences, who knew exactly when to speak, and when to hold you so tightly the pieces couldn’t fall apart again.
So when Sam reached out to Bucky for help with an intel recovery mission in Madripoor, your heart dropped. You didn’t tell him not to go, but Bucky saw the way your hands twisted in the hem of your sweater, the way your mouth stayed open like you were trying to find a reason to make him stay.
He found you in the kitchen the night before he left, staring blankly into a cup of tea you hadn’t touched.
“Sweetheart,” he said, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Look at me.”
Your eyes slowly found his, and he knew.
“I hate this,” you whispered, the words brittle.
“I know,” he said, cupping your face in his hands. “I’ll be gone for two days. Three, tops. I swear.”
You leaned into him, “I sleep better when you’re here.”
“I know, honey,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “I hate leaving you. But he needs me just for this one thing. And I promise I wouldn’t go unless I knew you’d be taken care of.”
You looked up at him, “I don’t want to be a burden to the team.”
“You are never a burden,” he said firmly, his voice a low rasp. “Never. And while I’m gone, they’ll keep you safe because they want to, not because they have to.”
Before he left, he gathered the others in the main room.
“Keep an eye on her,” Bucky said quietly. “She’s strong — don’t let her tell you otherwise — but she doesn’t always ask for help.”
They all nodded, some more solemn than others.
“If she does, don’t wake her unless you have to. It can be… disorienting. But if she’s not safe — if she’s near stairs or rooftops or anything like that — then wake her up gently. No yelling. No shaking her. It’ll only make it worse.”
Yelena raised an eyebrow. “What if we throw a blanket on her and pretend she’s a ghost?”
Bucky gave her a pointed look.
She raised her hand in defeat. “Fine. No blankets. Understood.”
“Thank you,” Bucky said, quieter now, looking over each of them. “Just… She means everything to me.”
They nodded again. Even John offered a pat in the back, and Ava gave a flickering smile.
That night, he kissed you once more at the door. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
But time always moved slower without him. And sleep — if it came at all — would bring with it the ghosts you couldn’t outrun.
—
The first night without Bucky was the worst.
You didn’t sleep. Not even for a minute. You paced the compound like a spectre, wearing one of his oversized Henleys and a pair of mismatched socks. The halls were quiet but your mind was unbearably loud.
What if something happened to him? What if this was the one time he didn’t come back?
You were awake in the kitchen at 2 a.m., your fingers trailing along the countertops. You made tea and forgot it on the counter. You folded a blanket you didn’t remember picking up. You stood in front of the window for forty-five minutes, watching shadows move across the landing pad like you were trying to count sheep.
Yelena followed you silently, not intruding. She was nearby, perched on the kitchen island, tossing a grape between her fingers.
She didn’t ask you to sit down. She didn’t ask what you were thinking. She just waited.
“Can’t sleep?” she finally said casually.
You shook your head. “If I try, I’ll just end up with a bad dream.”
“Then don’t try. Come,” she said, patting the spot beside her. “Sit. Eat terrible snacks with me. I stole jerky from John .”
You offered a smile, and for a moment, it felt almost normal — like you were just friends pulling a late night, instead of trauma survivors outrunning your past.
—
The second night was harder in a different way.
Your body gave in, just barely, around 3 a.m.
You collapsed on the couch in the common room and curled into yourself. The others left you be — glad to see you resting at all.
But two hours later, you screamed in your sleep.
Bob got there first.
He found you thrashing in, tangled in the blanket like it was strangling you. Tears streamed down your face, and your hands clawed at the air as you whimpered words no one could quite make out.
“No—please—don’t take him—don’t—!”
Bob dropped to his knees beside you. He didn’t try to wake you — remembered Bucky’s warning — but he said your name softly, voice like pattering rain on glass.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” he whispered, over and over. “You’re not alone.”
Eventually, your screams died into sobs. Still asleep, you curled toward him, burying your face in his shoulders. Bob let you cry against him.
He didn’t know if you’d remember any of it.
John had stood nearby the whole time, sleepy when he was woken up by the noise. When Bob looked up at him with tired eyes, he invited John to sit next to you both.
He did, because perhaps he thought he could help keep you both safe.
—
The third night was deceptively calm.
You seemed better. You’d eaten half a piece of toast that morning. You’d even made a small joke at Alexei’s expense, and everyone had taken that as a good sign.
Still, the team took care of you closely.
That night, after the motion sensors in the living room went off because you started sleepwalking, Alexei, Ava, and John took the unofficial nightwatch duty— all of them too alert to sleep anyway. You shuffled into the hallway around 1 a.m., eyes half-lidded. You looked straight through Alexei, who had been sitting on the floor playing chess against himself.
He didn’t say a word, just stood up and followed you at a distance.
You wandered into the kitchen and opened the same drawer four times in a row. Flipped the light switch on and off, on and off. Then you just… stood there, staring at the fridge.
John found you a little while later, drifting into the laundry room. He didn’t panic.
“Hey,” he said, blocking the doorway, “this isn’t your bedroom.”
You blinked slowly with foggy eyes, but didn’t respond.
“Come on, let’s go back,” he said, not touching you, just using the calm voice he’d been practicing since Bucky left.
“Couch sounds better than tile, right?”
You followed him without protest, your feet shuffling over the floor. He guided you gently to the common room and helped you sit on the couch, draping a blanket over your shoulders.
Ava came to relieve him an hour later.
No one told the others to watch you. No one needed to. It had simply become understood — an agreement among people who’d known isolation too well to let anyone else suffer it.
You were never left alone for long.
—
The fourth night, things only got worse.
Bucky's message came in just past midday — the mission was running longer than planned. What was supposed to be three days had stretched to four, maybe more. They were holed up in a safe house, radio silent except for brief check-ins. Your already-bad anxiety only spiked.
So, of course, it manifested in your sleeping habits.
You were beyond exhausted, though. Somewhere between 2 and 4 a.m., your body gave out before your mind could. And that's when the sleepwalking started again.
Yelena noticed first when the motion sensor on the jet landing pad pinged, lighting up the communicator on her bedside table. Her eyes snapped open in panic.
One glance at the screen by her bed and—
Oh.
Oh no.
“Blyat,” she cursed, already half out of bed.
The security feed showed you barefoot and draped in one of Bucky’s shirts that hung past your thighs, drifting forward in a dreamy gait.
You were headed straight for the edge of the roof.
“Ava!” Yelena barked into the intercom by her door. “She’s up—she’s on the roof!”
Ava didn’t even answer. She was already phasing halfway through her bedroom door before the words had finished transmitting.
Her molecules blurred as she sprinted through walls and the glass doors leading to the edge.
She found you on the rooftop, barely more than a silhouette, the wind tugging at your hair and the cold bit at your bare feet.
You were standing at the edge. Right at the ledge.
The skyline sparkled as your fingers trembled to reach for something invisible in the air in front of you.
“He’s gone,” you mumbled into the wind. “I have to find him…”
Ava didn’t shout your name. She didn’t touch you too fast. She knew better.
She forced herself to become solid again and circled herself around your torso from behind.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
You didn’t react — not really. Your muscles twitched, but you didn’t pull away.
John was next, thundering up the stairs with bare feet and wide eyes, stopping short the moment he saw you on the ledge.
His instincts wanted him to act, to tackle you into safety, but he didn’t. Not when he saw how still you were. Not when he saw how gently Ava held you. He lifted both hands, palms out, staying back, like he might catch you if anything went wrong.
“Easy…” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Alexei arrived just after. One look at the scene stopped him in his tracks. “Bozhe moi…” he whispered. He took a cautious step forward and dropped to his knees, trying to be less threatening.
“Druga,” he said gently, kneeling just to your side. “You’re dreaming, okay? Just a dream. We’re here. No need to find anyone — you’re already home.”
Bob drifted up moments later. He didn’t say a word. He just hovered nearby.
And then Yelena burst through the door, breath hitching as her eyes scanned the perimeter.
“Is she—?”
“She’s okay,” Bob answered quietly, “We’ve got her.”
Yelena let out a shaky breath and moved closer.
You whimpered softly, your whole body trembling in Ava’s arms. Your hands curled into fists, then relaxed again. Tears slid down your cheeks even as your eyes stayed closed. Even asleep, you were breaking.
You were inching closer to the ledge, your toes just brushing the edge of now.
“I have to find him,” you mumbled again, voice cracking. “He’s not safe. I have to find him.”
Alexei looked at Ava. At Yelena.
“She’s not coming out of it,” Yelena whispered. “She’s too far under.”
“Do it,” John said, tense. “Now. Before she—”
Alexei nodded once, then reached forward, placing one palm on your shoulders. It was him who finally made the call. “Time to wake up now. You’re safe. You’re dreaming.”
Your body stiffened immediately. The moment your nervous system registered something was wrong, your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in.
And they kicked hard.
Coming back into consciousness in panic, you bolted— or tried to.
Ava held you still, even as your eyes snapped open, and you screamed.
“No! No, no, no! Let go of me! Let go—“
“It’s okay, it’s okay—” Ava said, tightening her grip, keeping you away from the ledge.
You thrashed. Alexei backed off, hands up, trying not to crowd you.
Yelena stepped forward and crouched, her voice firmer than the others. “Look at me. You’re here. You’re home. We have you.”
But your body didn’t believe her. Your eyes were darting wildly, trying to make sense of noise and faces, adrenaline pumping so hard it made your vision blur.
John, who managed to grab a blanket, wrapped it over your shoulders while muttering, “It’s okay, you’re okay,” on repeat like a prayer, even though your eyes weren’t processing him yet.
Bob moved in slowly, hoping just being there would help.
Eventually—eventually—your eyes found something familiar.
The logo on the roof.
The view on the edge.
The ledge.
Your legs buckled the moment your body remembered gravity.
Ava and Alexei caught you instantly — Ava’s arms looping under your shoulders, Alexei scooping beneath your knees, reminding yourself he was a man who once threw tanks for fun.
“I—I didn’t mean to—” your voice broke, and you curled in on yourself, clutching the sides of Bucky’s shirt like it could protect you from your own confusion. “I don’t remember what I was dreaming. I didn’t mean to come up here. I didn’t mean—”
“We know,” Yelena said firmly. “It’s okay.”
“No one’s mad,” John reassured, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
You swallowed, and with a shaky breath, nodded once.
You weren’t fully okay — not even close — but you were with them.
“Let’s get you out of the cold, druga,” Alexei said.
You didn’t fight the suggestion.
The rooftop door swung behind you as Bob pushed it open.
All of you managed to walk back in.
No one said the obvious — how close you’d come to falling.
No one had to.
You reached the common room without question, because none of them wanted to put you back in your room alone. You wouldn’t sleep, and none of them would, either.
They laid you gently down on the oversized couch in the center of the room. You blinked up at the ceiling, eyes still dazed, until Bob appeared beside you with a warm cup of tea. He placed it in your hands.
You didn’t drink it. You just held it, palms wrapped tight around the mug, as if the warmth alone was enough to anchor you.
“I’m sorry,” you said, finally
“You don’t have to be,” Ava replied immediately, sitting beside you on the couches.
John sat on the floor in front of you, back against the coffee table, hands dangling over his knees. “We’ve all had bad nights. This just happened to be one of yours.”
Alexei brought in two more pillows and tossed one over your legs. He tucked the second by Yelena, who tried to wave him off before giving up with a sigh and letting him fuss.
Bob curled into an armchair nearby. “We’ll keep watch,” he said. “We always do.”
And then, something remarkable happened.
The exhaustion hit all of you at once.
One by one, you all stopped pretending you weren’t tired.
Yelena curled up beside you, legs tangled with yours, chin resting on the pillow between you.
John slid down to lie on the carpet, arms crossed over his chest like a soldier who could still sleep with one eye open.
Ava stretched out beside the couch, back against it as she put a hand over yours.
Alexei lowered himself onto the other couch with a dramatic groan, mumbling something about “too old for this” as he tucked a pillow behind his head.
Bob’s head tilted back and his breathing evened out.
And just like that, the common room became a patchwork nest of sleep. And it was some of the best sleep every one of you have had in a while.
—
An hour, maybe two, slipped by. Then, the elevator dinged.
You stirred, still in a haze, but some part of you registered the familiar sound of heavy boots followed by a duffel bag hitting the floor with a gentle thump, carefully placed rather than dropped.
“Hey, sweetheart,” came Bucky’s voice.
Your eyes blinked open, just enough to catch a glimpse of him standing in the spill of hallway light. His hair was damp, rain clinging to the ends. His jacket bore flecks of concrete dust and char near the seams.
He looked like a man who hadn’t stopped running home since he left.
“Bucky…” you whispered, the name tangled in a yawn. “Baby… you came back…”
Your words were fragile, barely more than breath, and already fading into the fog of dreams again.
Bucky stepped over John — who was still passed out on the floor, snoring like a freight train — and made his way to you without a sound. He crouched down by the couch and wrapped his hands around yours — the one not held by Ava— and brought it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice cracking at the seam. “I’m so sorry I left.”
You made a nonsensical sound in response — half a word, maybe a memory. Something about rooftops, tea, jerky, his shirt. Nothing coherent, just the drift of half-dreams spilling from your lips. He knew you wouldn’t remember any of this come morning.
But still, Bucky leaned in and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there. For the first time in days, he let himself breathe.
Then he looked up — and finally took the full picture in.
They were all there. The whole team, scattered in sleep around the living room like an improvised fortress. His girl — you — nestled safely in the center of it, wrapped in the arms of friends who had clearly refused to leave your side.
They looked worn down, but peaceful and content. Like being here, with each other, was exactly where they wanted to be.
So he moved quietly around the tower, opting for a quick shower and change of clothes. Then he walked to the hallway closet and gathered every spare blanket he could find.
One by one, he tucked them in.
He threw a thick crocheted navy blue throw over John, who mumbled something but didn’t wake. A quilt draped gently across Yelena and Ava. One across Alexei’s legs, already half off the couch,
Bob didn’t even stir — just sighed, as Bucky knelt, and carefully tugged a fluffy yellow blanket under his chin. It was like Bob somehow knew Bucky was there.
On the coffee table, Bucky found a scrap of paper and scrawled a quick note, placing it where they would see it in the morning.
Thank you for taking care of my girl. – J.B.B
Then he returned to you.
He stood there for a moment, watching you sleep — curled up in the middle of everyone who had held the line while he was gone.
He was so in love with you — god help him — because all he could think about after the long mission was taking you back, holding you close, and not sharing you with anyone tonight.
So he picked you up in his arms effortlessly, like you belonged there, like he’d done it a thousand times and could do it a thousand more.
You stirred just a little, your cheek pressing into his chest.
“You’re home…” you murmured again, barely awake.
“I am,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your temple. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
He carried you back to your shared room, the weight of the world finally lifting from his shoulders.
There, he laid you down and pulled the covers up over you both, sliding in with one arm around your waist, the other across your chest like a shield.
You were finally asleep in his arms, and he wasn’t about to give the world a single piece of you until morning.
-end.
General Bucky taglist:
@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant
@shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe
@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius
@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida
@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22
@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire
@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko
@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat
@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot
@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess
@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol
@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life @rIphunter
@cjand10 @nerdreader @am-3-thyst @wingstoyourdreams @lori19
@goldengubs @maryevm @helen-2003 @maryssong23 @fan4astic
@yesshewrites1 @thewiselionessss @sangsterizada @jaderabbitt @softpia
@hopeofwinter @nevereclipse @tellybearryyyy @buckybarneswife125 @buckybarneswife125
pouring milk on him and throwing him against a wall
GUYYYSSSSS MY EXCITEMENT FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS CANT BE CONTAINED (especially for Bucky-)
Wrote another Thunderbolts* fanfic, please help im falling into the rabbithole
https://archiveofourown.org/works/65505274
I WAKE UP TO 226 HITS AND 35 KUDOS?? I UNDERESTIMATED HOW FERAL THIS FANDOM IS FOR CONTENT
What the fuck??? 87 hits in less than an hour?? I guess I underestimated how feral this fandom is for content 😭 I'm going to write something else Thunderbolts* related soon, don't worry
So, I wrote a Thunderbolts* fanfic if anybody wants to check it out!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/65488000
This right here. Don't infantilize him, please.
I want to talk about Bob.
I want to talk about Bob and how fandom treats characters with mental illnesses, because I’m already seeing this shit.
Spoilers below the cut.
His arc is so good, and yet some people are really just focusing on making him into “UwU babygirl” material. I know, this is tumblr, home of the babygirlified characters.
But there’s heavier context here. We’re talking about someone who survived an abusive childhood and overcame the addiction he used to self-medicate for a wildly unrepresented/stigmatized illness.
His memory loss is not cute. It’s traumatic. He’s traumatized.
Yes, it’s important that he absolutely can be seen as a love interest, as a favorite blorbo, as a comfort character. In fact, I think he will be for many people with mental illnesses. His story resonates.
But there’s a systemic, historic pattern of treating mentally ill folks as children, or incapable.
The situation with Valentina is a metaphor for conservatorship. She handles him, makes decisions for him, all while talking down to him.
Don’t let fandom do that to him, too.
GIGGLING THIS IS SO REAL
If mentally unstable why pookie shaped?
no because it’s really really important to me that in a world where we’re so used to the heroes punching and shooting their way to victory, thunderbolts* went out of its way to show us that the void is still very much a part of bob, and bob is their friend, so they’re going to accept every facet of who he is and give him a soft place to land, even if that means they’ll have to be the ones to pull him back from the darkness every single time. because that’s what friends family will do for each other, no questions asked.
We went from comedic gold to that depressing/healing at the same time final scene
"Bob. You hit me with that sign one more time..."
"I WAS ON METH"
HAHAHAHAHA
THIS THIS THIS.
ah yes i remembered the other thing i was thinking about after my second thunderbolts watch (spoilers)
this was more just me piecing things together, but
that whole final scene in the lab was spectacular. i like how the movie makes you believe that bob is fighting his depression and he is putting an effort into recovery by standing up to the void, but as he starts beating up the void, you see that he is losing control. he is beating himself, he is punching himself.
the void will always be a part of him, his mental illness with always be a part of him. so when he fights it, he’s fighting himself, he is hurting himself. all those hints of him thinking he makes everything worse, he’s letting it all out, he’s exploding (which is what happens when you ‘push it all down’ like yelena suggested), and i really relate to this. when he lost control, he started hurting himself. a lot of representation of mental illness shows people externalizing and hurting other people, but internalizing is very real too, when the person loses control and hurts themself. that’s what bob was doing
turns out, as he is ruthlessly punching the void, it’s only hurting him more. the darkness is spreading through him and overtaking him, showing that the whole action of shoving your pain down is dangerous, because it always bubbles up and comes out worse than it would have before. it ends up hurting more, it’s more dangerous and terrifying than it would have been. the more you feed into the darkness, the more it hurts you. that’s why bucky said “this isn’t right”, because bob is hurting himself, he isn’t healing. that’s also why yelena said “you’re giving him what he wants” because when you hurt yourself, you’re giving the depression what it wants, you’re feeding it. that’s why the void just kept smiling and laughing as bob hit him.
one of the main themes of this movie is basically it’s fucking hard, but you have to keep fighting, you have to keep fucking trying. so i like that the movie has you realize that bob fighting that dark and dangerous side of him only hurts him more. his mental illness is part of who he is, the goal is just to find a way where he isn’t defined by his illness, where he can find a way to live with it and still thrive. that’s an incredibly important message, that mental illness and disabilities are not necessarily something to be fought off, they are something you need to learn to accept and live with, because it’s a part of you.
NO BECAUSE ONCE I FINISH MY ANALYSIS (I'M ON 8 PAGES AND I JUST FINISHED THE SUMMARY OF HIS PLOT) IM GONNA WRITE SOME
my writer's block fading after watching thunderbolts* & fall in love with bob:
