It started like any normal afternoon. The Thunderbolts tower was unusually quiet, which meant either something was being stolen or Bucky was reading.

You found him sitting on the worn couch in the lounge, legs stretched out, tablet in hand.

You flopped onto the armrest with a grunt. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t look up. “Research.”

“For what? Mission?”

“Culture,” he said, completely serious.

He finally glanced at you and tilted the screen your way. It was some Reddit thread full of internet slang and half serious debates about social ideologies. You recognized the title immediately.

He ignored you, then suddenly paused like something clicked in his head. He looked at you again, all thoughtful.

“I’ve decided,” he said solemnly, “that I’m a woke feminist.”

You blinked and narrowed your eyes in question.

“Woke feminist,” he repeated. “I looked it up. Makes sense. I’m pro-women, pro-justice, anti-HYDRA, anti-sexism. I can work with that.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. There was truly no preparing for that sentence to come out of Bucky Barnes’s mouth, delivered with the unshakable confidence of a man who just learned how hashtags work.

“Why,” you finally asked, voice flat, “did you say it like it’s a job application.”

“I mean, it kind of is, right?” he shrugged. “You gotta choose to be woke.”

You just stared.

He frowned slightly, now unsure. “Did I use it wrong?”

“No, you used it… right. But you also said it like you just joined a club with a membership card,” you said.

“Is there not a card? Do I get one of those reusable tote bags?”