rogueheretic555

[rogueheretic555]

RIP Ozzy. I'm trying LSD just for you.

[rogueheretic555]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Thunderbolts (Movie 2025) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Yelena Belova & Robert "Bob" Reynolds, Platonic Yelena Belova & Robert "Bob" Reynolds Characters: Robert "Bob" Reynolds (Marvel), Yelena Belova Additional Tags: Post-Movie: Thunderbolts (2025), Both of them need therapy ASAP, Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Yelena Belova and Robert "Bob" Reynolds are Like Siblings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, sharing traumatic memories, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, trigger warnings included in notes, Suicide Attempt, Red Room (Marvel), Child Death, Self-Harm, Alcohol, narcan use Summary:

Some nights are dreamless for Yelena. Other nights are plagued by constant nightmares. After hours and hours of unsuccessful attempts at falling asleep, Yelena takes a walk around the tower with a bottle of vodka as company. She stumbles upon Bob. He sits by a massive window, taking in the sights of New York. Yelena isn’t surprised to see him awake at this hour, but becomes concerned when she hears him sniffling. She sits across from him, meets his red puffy eyes, and hands the bottle to him. The two friends then share a bottle while confiding in each other.

[rogueheretic555]

Presenting to the emergency room

[rogueheretic555]

[rogueheretic555]

@masterqueef99

if the for you page shows me this atrocious post one more time im going to bomb it. throwing his cum ??? inside your pussy??? THROWING IT???

[rogueheretic555]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thunderbolts (Movie 2025) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Robert "Bob" Reynolds (Marvel) Additional Tags: Drug Use, Addiction, Bipolar Disorder Summary:

This is the story of how Bob lost his summer job at Alfredo's Bail Bonds.

Originally posted here on tumblr, added it to AO3 for viewing. Please do go see, thank you!!

[rogueheretic555]

bi-weekly? uhm yeah i'm bisexual every week lol

[rogueheretic555]

So

I think this is the most fitting Yelena song, especially when she thinks of Natasha or Bob.

[rogueheretic555]

How Bob Lost His Job

Not my photo

Summary: This is the story of how Bob lost his summer job.

Warnings: Drug use. Addiction. Mention of Bipolar Disorder. Hypothetical animal death (Chicken & Gorilla)

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is really stupid. I promise. Here's the fanart I made for this.

Bob spent his entire life riding the roller-coaster of bipolar disorder as a passenger. His social-life was non-existent. It was hard to keep friends. If going M.I.A for months didn’t snuff out what remaining friends he thought he had left, his new addiction did. His downs made him feel entirely disconnected from the world. Any sensation he had would dissipate into the void, leaving him numb. So when he tried meth, it made everything bearable. 

Better than bearable at first. It was like coming up for fresh air from the pits of hell. Mania was to meth that a grain of sand is to the beach. Pure euphoria would wash over him, cleansing him from any worry or burden.

Of course, bliss would only last for a few hours. It would turn into discomfort, then a sprinkle of paranoia. He’d run his fingers up and down the stitches of his shirt without realizing. His mouth was dry and chapped. It took 36 without sleep to finally put him down. Each time he’d use, the hours of bliss turned into just moments. The constant search for his next fix began to ruin his life.

.

.

.

Alfredo’s Bail Bonds was the only place that didn’t ask for a piss test. Bob managed to keep this job for more than 3 months. His boss Gregory knew he was high. Greg had been around the block a few times. Bob also knew that his boss was a bit shady. Some underground black market something. He may have been an addict, but he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t poke his nose into places it didn’t belong. It was an unspoken agreement not to mention it. Bob kept his mouth shut, Greg paid him a fair wage and let him be high while on the clock. 

The gig was a simple summer job for an older teenager. Sweep and mop the floors. Make sure the trash goes out. Make himself busy. It was an easy job for Bob to do while high. The constant back and forth motion of sweeping was hypnotic and allowed his mind to drift off. 

Working in a small office made being the new guy feel isolating. A woman in her 60s sat as a receptionist. The only sounds ever heard from her were ‘good mornings’ and her frail fingers against a keyboard. The bookkeeper was a middle aged single mom whose only objective during the day was to do her job efficiently and quietly. He felt foreign. Out of place. Until he met his coworker.

Bob wasn’t entirely sure what Matt’s job was, nor did he bother to ask. His theory was that Matt materialized from thin air, snuck into Greg’s office, and added himself to the payroll. Maybe Greg knew Matt added himself to payroll, but instead of asking “How the hell did you get in here?” He just kept him on the team to see what would happen. Alfredo’s Bail Bonds consisted of a 60 year old woman too stubborn to retire, an introverted bookkeeper, a meth addict with a mop, and a man-goblin who reeked of weed and happened to be good at changing light bulbs. And Greg.

Bob and Matt had a strange friendship. They didn’t talk outside of work, but they enjoyed each other’s company while on the clock. They had smoke breaks together. Matt could start a conversation about anything. Bob felt comfortable enough to break out of his shell around Matt. One-man jobs always turned into two. 

.

.

.

The sun was already blistering at 10 AM. Bob woke up 15 minutes before he stumbled into work. Before his eyes could readjust to the dimly lit entrance, Greg called for him 

“Robert! It’s sign day. The suit is in the back. Matt did it last time. Sorry, bud.” 

The suit was a head-to-toe yellow and red chicken costume. A cartoonishly large head piece, a stuffy feather bodysuit, and chicken talon boots. 

Matt strolled in just as Greg finished his last sentence. Bob’s face said it all. The bags under his eyes were heavy and he looked like death. The last thing Bob wanted was to have to put on the suit and sit out for hours in the scorching heat. 

“Hey Greg! There ain’t much for me to do here today, let me go with Bob!”

“Matt, no. This isn’t a two-man job. Bob can spin the sign just fine.”

“It’s hot as shit, man. He’s gonna be fucked out there by himself. Heat stroke is a serious thing!”

Greg sighed in defeat and placed fingers on his temples “Matt, if there is nothing here for you to do and if going with Bob will get you out my hair, you two can hold hands and sing Kumbaya for all I care. Just spin the sign. I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day. You have my cell number…There’s a cooler in the back. Make sure you two drink water.”

“You got it.” Matt pumped his fists in the air as Bob gave him an appreciative smile. 

 When Greg’s car pulled out of the lot, the two of them went about their usual ritual. Their spot was the alleyway right outside the back entrance. The two of them sat together every time. Bob always offered Matt a cigarette. If Matt stopped to grab an energy drink before work, he always made sure to grab Bob one. If Matt was smoking a joint, he rolled enough to share. It was a symbiotic relationship based on keeping each other sane while on the clock. 

Bob never offered a hit of crank to Matt. Not that he was stingy. If it was anything else, Bob would share in a heartbeat. It was the cognitive dissonance of knowing how nasty meth was but not wanting his friend to fall down the same rabbit hole.

After taking the first hit of his joint, Matt exhaled “You good? You weren’t here last week.”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good.” Bob didn’t look up from his pipe. He fidgeted with his lighter and kept his eyes focused on the fingertips that held the pipe. His nails were gnawed on. Scabs formed around the nail bed and cuticles. “I was sick. I’m good now.” He brought the pipe to his mouth and struck the lighter. 

“I know it ain’t my business and I’m not a hypocrite, but crystal is real bad for you man. If you need-” 

His sentence was cut off by Bob hacking up a lung. “You’re right, it’s not your business.” Bob shivered as the calming wave of euphoria swept over him. But immediate regret filled in his gut. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a dick. I just got some stuff going on.”

“You don’t gotta explain yourself to me. Just don’t do anything stupid. You can’t leave me here by myself. I hate mopping.” Matt said as he placed a hand on Bob’s shoulder, gaining a short snicker from him. 

.

.

.

“I got one for you”

“Hit me.”

“Would you rather fight off a chicken every time you get out of a vehicle, OR fight a silverback gorilla once a year on live television? Killing yourself is not an option this time.”

Bob stopped spinning the obnoxiously large sign for a moment to process Matt’s ‘Would You Rather’ question. He turned to face Matt. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he huffed “Do I get prep time?”

“Yes. It's on the same day every year. It's like a big event and shit.”

“Can I use anything to protect myself?”

“Dude I just said you get prep time. Whatever you think would help you take down a silverback gorilla. But not like a nuke or a bazooka or some shit.”

“But gorillas usually leave you alone, don’t they?”

“But this gorilla is ANGRY.”

Bob took a few seconds to ponder and placed his feathery fist on his hip. “Do I HAVE to kill the chicken? And is it any vehicle? Like a bus?”

“That’s entirely up to you, but that chicken is dead set on killing you. Any yes. Car, train, bus. Motorcycles too.”

“I don’t want to kill anything.” Bob said as he continued to give the Would You Rather thought. “Chicken. I think I’d choose the chicken. I wouldn’t have to buy chicken at the grocery store anymore.”

“Ah man but think about how cool it would be to fight a gorilla gladiator style! See what I’d do is that I’d strap myself with - OW! What’d you do that for?” Matt was cut off by Bob kicking him in the shin.

“You know those guys?” Bob gestured to two tall men briskly approaching. He couldn’t see well through the eye holes of the chicken head, but he knew something was wrong. 

Matt rose to his feet and squinted “Uh…maybe? Oh no. Oh no no no no no no”

“What what what?”

Matt fumbled with his pockets “Okay so I was over at my old dealer Ricky’s house. We were smoking and drinking and I hadn’t paid him yet for the grass. I was fuckin around and it got a little rowdy. Dude told me to chill out and I didn’t take him seriously.” The two mysterious figures started to walk faster. “Long story short, I may have accidentally broken his dog’s urn and I still owe him for the weed.”

The chicken head whipped around to face Matt, astonished at what he just heard. Bob’s face started to tingle. Meth was still fresh in his system. His mouth felt like it was filled with bees. He couldn’t tell if the noise pulsating in his ears was his blood rushing or the cars zipping past him on the boulevard. He wished he could just tuck tail and run, but his friend needed him. His feathered fingers gripped the sides of the sign and he stepped between his friend and the two instigators.

One of the men raised their arms “Hey Matt! Where you bee-” 

THWACK

The sheet metal sign collided with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling. 

“RUN!” Bob yelled. 

Matt bolted in the opposite direction. Bob let out a guttural war cry and charged the two men. Bob had one mission: Defend his friend.

Feathers were ruffled. Talons were shoved into limbs. The sign was swung with vicious velocity. Bob fought with passion that only the warriors of Valhalla knew. Passing mothers clutched their pearls. Their children pointed with mouths agape, bearing witness to the holy crusade brought against the chicken’s foes. 

Both men were defeated, aching and groaning on the ground. Bob went to deliver his final blow until one of them held their hands up in defense “Stop stop! Jesus, what the hell!?”

Bob stopped in his tracks, sign pulled back and ready for the next swing.

“That was Matt, right?” The injured man sniffled. “Ricky has been worried sick about him! God damnit, man. ”

“W-what? But, but dog, and the ashes, and the- ”

“Ricky don’t give a fuck! He just used the vacuum and put it back on the shelf! We just wanted to make sure Matt was okay!”  

“Oh…oh my god. I’m so, I’m so sorry…” Bob turned frantic and fled. He didn’t stop running until he was 4 blocks past work.

-

Bob and Matt sat next to each other as they waited in Greg’s office in silence. When Greg walked into his office, he calmly shut the door behind him and just stared at the two of them. He wanted to say that he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but what he was told about the incident sounded exactly like what the two of them would do. The only thing he couldn’t believe was that Bob was still in the chicken suit. Greg took his seat at his desk. He folded his hands and leaned forward.

“Matt…Bob… Why did I get a call two hours ago about a man in a chicken costume on the side of the road beating people with a sign?”

The both of them fumbled over their words. Before they could get anything coherent out, Greg put his hand up and shook his head. He waited a few moments to process everything before his next words left his mouth. “Why? Just…why?”

.

.

.

Free from the feathery suit, Bob left through the front door. The hot summer sun was setting and the street was oddly quiet. Matt followed behind. They weren’t sure who would be the one to break the awkward silence. Instead of words, Bob pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to his ex-coworker. 

Matt took a long drag before he said “I’m really sorry, man. I didn’t know that Ricky…sorry”

Bob nodded his head. Being out of a job sucked, but it wasn’t a surprise. He knew it was going to happen eventually. “It’s uh…it’s okay.”

“We still friends?”

Bob looked at Matt with confusion and snorted in disbelief. “I don’t think I would have beaten someone to a pulp if we weren’t”

Relieved, they both sat in silence again.

“How the hell did you manage to break the urn?”

 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

[rogueheretic555]

Is it just me who cringes when ppl infantilize bob too much? like he is 100% a grown man still. mentally challenged and a previous addict? yes. but nonetheless an adult 😭

(ps. stop making him stutter w every word he says)

[rogueheretic555]

“Patient zero over there.”

From Thunderbolts* deleted scene.

[rogueheretic555]

Bob ain't cluckin' around.

Thunderbolts* reignited my passion for making shit posts and goofy fan art.

I will be writing a Bob fanfic based on this.

"I WAS ON METH!"

[rogueheretic555]

Meth-addicted sign-twirling chicken. It was a summer job. 

[rogueheretic555]

He’s a FORMER DRUG ADDICT he has BIPOLER DISORDER he’s a survivor of CHILDHOOD DOMESTIC ABUSE he’s the MOST POWERFUL GUY ON EARTH he’s SUICIDAL he was DEFEATED WITH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP he DID THE DISHES he’s BRUNET he’s BLOND he’s a HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT he’s a SCIENCE EXPERIMENT he can SEE YOUR WORST MOMENTS he’s from FLORIDA

[rogueheretic555]

You know what isn't a crime, but definitely should be one? The casual mischaracterization of Sentry in fan content. I'm so done😭

1. I hate how he's often depicted as cruel, he's not, look at him, fucking look? And when Ava asks about the hair dye, what does he do? He looks to Val for an answer, he's constantly fidgeting, trying to find an out for the bunch of misfits who previously helped him in the vault.

2. I hate how people try to turn it into a Marc Spector, Steven Grant and Jake Lockley situation when it's. Like. Not?? This is such a disservice to both Moon Knight and The Sentry, and real people who relate to the two characters' (very distinct very different) mental health issues. Bob doesn't have DID, if anything, the movie leans towards him being bipolar. Sentry is Bob, the guy literally tells Yelena in the vault that he has high highs and low lows, the high is Sentry, the low is the Void, that's it. Bob is both Sentry and The Void. What's so hard to understand? It's the mania (Sentry), followed by depression (Void) then he forgets. That's how Bob describes it in the first act of the film, that's how it happens in the third act.

3. This is not a contradiction to point 1, but Sentry is unhinged. He is awkward and somehow soft spoken? But he is unhinged, and invincible, and fucking terrifying. I'm tired of the stoic depictions in fics like🙂‍↔️ idc if you wanna write fics for comic Sentry, just don't tag them as mcu stuff. (WHO AM I KIDDING COMIC SENTRY IS FUCKING SCARYYY STOP THE BABYFICATION)

4. He is not evil (the fact that we have to spell this out... media literacy is truly dead huh), no shit the Thunderbolts* will be scared of him, of course they will be– he kicked the ever-living shit out of them. But he's not malicious, he doesn't use unnecessary force. Call it condescending, but he's going easy on them, toying with them, and deals arguably softer blows to Yelena, John and Ava, the trio he already met at the vault (because he's the same person, yk? jesus)

5. Prespective is a thing, the team wasn't there to see Sentry tell Val he doesn't want to kill them (they're no threat to him), it's the root cause of their disagreement, it leads to the New York Blackout TM, but we, the audience, were. So tell me why the fuck do I see stuff with this guy terrorizing that team for no reason? 😭 bfr guys.

6. So what? So while I can buy you showing me Ava or John or Alexei or Bucky or Yelena being fearful of the Sentry, or Val (hahaha eat shit Val), I simply can't get behind him actually being a threat to them, on purpose and beyond swatting them like flies, because hi hello have you seen the movie? Yeah.

7. Have I mentioned Sentry is unhinged? Yeah. Yeah. We got glimpses of it with Val before Mel pressed the kill switch but!! Sentry!! Is!! Unhinged!!

8. Find a middle ground, he doesn't have to be uwu or straight up satan or stoic as a rock, he is Bob in mania, so that's inherently Bob with high levels of energy and a higher self esteem (more like a GODLY EGO) and impulsivness and dillusions of grandeur (except they're not dellusions anymore? So rip), so do with that what you will.

Fingers crossed for more in-character Sentry content, at least the Sentry depicted by Lewis Pullman, who put his all into this performance but whose character is still somehow misunderstood? Anyways.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[rogueheretic555]

has anyone done this yet?