mx piggy/gonzo-rella. 20. they/he. biromantic arospec + ace. ao3. pfp by @cheap-slaw requests open!! masterlist, requesting info and additional links can be found at the bottom of the pinned post!!
I figured I should make a new pinned post, considering my old one is from just under 4 years ago, with some minor adjustments as the years have gone on. I won't delete the old pinned post for the sake of preservation.
This post here is so that I can offer up a bit about myself as a person and as a writer, for anyone who's interested, and so that any relevant links are easily accessible.
I've been writing fanfiction for around a decade. Fanfiction, as a reader and writer of it, has been an escape for me for as long as I can remember. It's also been my way of further connecting with the characters I love. And, it's really helped me to improve as a writer. Although I intend to continue writing fanfiction for years to come, it's given me the confidence I need to start working on my original projects.
Before gonzo-rella (the name of which has changed many times over the years), I wrote on Wattpad. After that, I had a different, now abandoned blog where I wrote reader-insert fics for plus size readers.
I began posting on this blog back in late 2020, when I was fifteen. This blog started off as a Community reader-insert fanfic blog, but as the years have gone on and as my interests have shifted, I've written for many different fandoms and characters over the years, still sticking to reader-insert fics. For non-reader-insert stuff, check out my AO3 (link in bio).
There are fandoms that I wrote for just a few years ago that I have little to no interest in writing for right now. Similarly, there are plenty of fics I wrote back then that I'm lightly embarrassed by, but nevertheless I've kept them up so that other people can enjoy them. Plus, I deleted the abysmal self-insert fics I wrote back when I was 10-12 and I really regret that now. A lot of my older work has the level of cringe you would expect from a teenager desperate to be loved by fictional people, but it's nice to be able to look back on the stuff I made when I was younger.
I have a mountainous backlog of requests I, realistically, will never end up doing, so feel free to use my request list as prompts for your own writing. Still, if you send in a request for a fandom I'm currently really into, there's a chance I'll get around to writing it.
This blog aims to be safe space for readers regardless of gender, race, weight, height etc.. As a fat asexual enby I know how hard it can be to find fanfic that feels inclusive of me. The last thing I want to do is exclude readers from being able to see themselves in my fics. I try my best to get everything right, but I will own up to any mistakes. If I ever write or have ever written anything that makes you feel that way, please feel free to reach out to me so that I can fix it and learn from my mistakes.
To make things easier for everyone involved, here's a list of the fandoms I'm interested in writing for at the moment:
Project Hail Mary
Lord of the Rings
Sonic the Hedgehog (movies)
Star Wars Original Trilogy
BBC Ghosts
Red Dwarf
Thunderbolts*
Fantastic Four
Superman (2025)
Dead Poets Society
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Ghostbusters
(Note: If you want to see the specific characters I'm interested in writing for, and whether I'm willing to write for them romantically, please check my fandom list, linked in my 'requesting info' post. There are some characters who I will write for platonically but not romantically!)
All links (masterlist, requesting info and additional links) are below.
Instead of not following through with a promise to write some Pride fics this year, I decided to compile some of my favourite queer-focused fics that I've written over the years. I haven't included every queer fic I've ever written, so feel free to go on a scavenger hunt through my masterlists for more. Most of these are for my own identities (nonbinary, trans, asexual), so apologies if you're not well-represented by these.
Although I've not got any plans to write any fics for Pride this year, feel free to send in requests! Maybe you'll inspire me. But, I'm happy to write queer fics any time of year.
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, but I'm happy for you to read/engage with my writing however you're most comfortable.
Wishing everyone a happy and safe Pride - whether you're out and proud, in the closet (come join me in my own closet for a game of Sardines!) or figuring things out.
Love is Understanding [bi!Benedict Bridgerton x nonbinary!reader]
It should be simple: Benedict Bridgerton is in love with you, and you are in love with him. But, you have a secret, one that you believe threatens your chance at a happily ever after with the only man you’ve ever loved.
Incongruence [Eloise Bridgerton x nonbinary!reader]
Amidst an identity crisis, you confide in Eloise.
Compatibility [asexual!Abed Nadir x asexual!reader]
Annie accidentally lets a secret slip, meaning you have to confront feelings you’ve always tried to ignore.
NOTE: I wrote this when I was 16, so this one probably has the worst writing of anything on this list. Still, it's a fic I really like, despite, say, the clunky prose.
Being Nonbinary in the Study Group (Community)
What I Am and What You Are [The Captain x queer!reader; platonic]
When you realise that you’re not as confident in your identity as you’d have yourself and everyone else believe, you’re surprised when the Captain is the one you end up confiding in.
Being the Nonbinary Wilkerson Sibling (Malcolm in the Middle)
(I might have predicted the future with this one; I wrote this before the revival came out)
Being the Nonbinary (Second) Youngest Pritchett Sibling (Modern Family)
Your Dad, Jay, Finally Accepting You, His Nonbinary Child (Modern Family)
Not-A-Woman [Arnold Rimmer x AFAB!nonbinary!reader]
Who would have known that Arnold Judas Rimmer wasn’t so bad at the whole ‘counselling’ thing after all?
Being Alexis Rose’s Trans Boyfriend
Alexis Rose, David Rose and Stevie Budd with a Nonbinary S/O
Being Roland and Jocelyn Schitt's Trans/Nonbinary Kid
Not A Girl, Or Anything, Really [nonbinary!Phoebe Spengler; nonbinary!reader; platonic]
In the midst of a gender crisis, Phoebe confides in you.
Being Wallace Wells’ Trans Boyfriend
Being Nonbinary and a Thunderbolt*
Progress [John Walker x nonbinary!reader]
John Walker is getting there. Slowly but surely, he’s making progress.
Acceptance [asexual!Jimmy Olsen x asexual!reader]
You and Jimmy have been on a few dates now. He decides it’s time to tell you something important. Based on past experiences, he’s afraid that it’s a dealbreaker.
You’re Still You [bi!Cameron Frye x genderfluid!reader]
Cameron has had a crush on you for years, but will your admission be enough to change that? (spoiler alert: no)
You’re Still You [bi!Cameron Frye x nonbinary!reader]
Cameron has had a crush on you for years, but will your admission be enough to change that? (spoiler alert: no)
shoutout to they queer people who can't be out this pride, or that are out and are constantly ridiculed for it/not believed. you're doing amazing, you don't have to do any more than you already are. if you're living with people who will not/do not accept you, it will get better. you will get out. there is still time, no matter how old you are.
as depressing as it is, there are a lot of people who can't be loud and proud this pride month for a multitude of reasons, and that doesn't make you an less queer - or a bad queer. you're doing what's safest for you, and that's always enough.
The Bob variation | The Walker variation (coming soon)
Context (please read): I’ve written the reader with this backstory in mind. If you don’t wanna read the whole post, tldr: reader is Clint Barton’s adopted mutant kid (now in their 20s or 30s) from another universe. The reader can teleport and fly as part of their mutation. They were on Team Cap in Civil War. Not included in the post: they hid out in Wakanda with Bucky after Civil War, which led to them becoming friends. All of this somewhat explained in the fic itself, but I still felt it was worth giving this added context just in case.
Relationship(s): Bucky Barnes x gn!mutant!Barton!reader (platonic or romantic); Original Male Character x gn!mutant!Barton!reader (romantic, past)
Summary: After a particularly bad breakup, you can't help but wonder if all you're good for is being someone's consolation prize.
Warnings: Bad breakup, questionable past relationship (it's not abusive or explicitly toxic but there are some red flags), insecurity, mental health struggles, misunderstanding, angst. (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 2.9k
(A/N: For anyone who hasn't read the version of this I wrote for Bob, this is a miniseries that uses the same core premise but deviates to fit the individual characters. I came up with this concept before I came up with the Bob one. However, I took my time with this one because I knew how interesting the relationship would be to explore and I wanted to get it right. I don't know if I'm 100% happy with it, and I'll admit that this would be a lot easier to do with an OC. Maybe I'll do that one day. But, still, I really like writing reader-inserts and I think this works well enough as it is. I plan on writing one for Walker; I have a vague idea in mind. If you have any ideas for Ava or Yelena, let me know. I'll try to come up with some ideas myself, because I hate leaving out the girls. Also, I left this one ambiguous, so you can either interpret Bucky and the reader's relationship as platonic or developing to romantic. Apologies that this one isn't fully aro-friendly, because the reader is referenced to have been in a romantic relationship in the past. If you have any requests for an aro!reader, let me know!)
A lot happened in your life before you became a New Avenger. You’d travelled across the multiverse to escape a genocide, you’d helped to fight a rogue AI, you’d been imprisoned, you’d been in exile, you’d watched half the population – including many of your friends and allies – crumble to dust, you’d travelled back in time to resurrect them all.
So, that something as trivial as a breakup would devastate you so deeply seemed ludicrous. That’s why you hadn’t opened up about it to your teammates. Not only was it nowhere near ‘as bad’ as the other things that had happened in your own life, it wasn’t comparable to your teammates’ traumas either.
You met Roman around a year after half the population had been purged from existence. Although you still heard from Nat, Tony and Steve every now and then, you were, for all intents and purposes, alone. Your mother and siblings were gone gone, while your dad, who had survived, had left before you got back to the US. With a pardon and a little financial help from Tony Stark, you had a fresh start. Like him, you’d decided to give up the hero crap in favour of living a normal life — or as close to one as you could manage, anyway. Being a mutant from a different universe, you hadn’t been given much of a chance at normality.
Lonely as you were for that first year, it didn’t seem to matter when you met Roman.
Roman, like you (and everyone else), had lost pretty much everyone, including his fiancé. This shared sense of desolation helped to bring you together. You fell hard and fast for him. You had assumed it was mutual, and, of course, with it being your first relationship, you hadn’t known any better, even though you were a grown adult who probably should’ve known better. Hindsight’s a wonderful thing. He’d been so accepting of the fact that you were a mutant. He didn’t judge you for having been a fugitive. He didn’t think you were selfish for giving up being a hero.
For four years, you were happy together. You moved in with him at the six month mark (a tad hasty, perhaps, but you were smitten, after all). You had date night every Friday night. You spent holidays with his younger sister and his nephew — his only two relatives who had survived the Blip. You could talk about anything and everything with him. Sure, sometimes you felt restless, useless and guilty. It was something you opened up to him about time and time again. He assured you that you deserved to live a quiet, normal life if that’s what you wanted. It was what you’d wanted at the time.
Then, your old friends, your dad, and a talking raccoon, for some reason, called upon you to help bring everyone back. Roman was supportive of your choice to go. Of course, you were willing to potentially sacrifice your life for a cause much bigger than yourself. But, you wanted to make it back not only for your own sake – you quite liked being alive now that you had a nice enough life – but also for his sake. You didn’t want to be another person he lost. He said he’d be waiting for you.
When you got back, he was waiting for you. So was his resurrected fiancé. At first, you thought it was going to be complicated and messy, but you soon realised that it was going to be simple. Not easy, but simple. Since it was his apartment, it was down to you to move out. Roman insisted that you could stay until you found somewhere else to live. He wasn’t cruel about it. But, you wanted to leave as soon as you possibly could. Despite the circumstances, your parents were happy to have you home again, even if you moped around the house like a heartbroken teenager for the first month or so.
The more time that passed, the less it hurt. You hadn’t figured out what you were going to do next. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine tried over and over to recruit you to do some shady jobs for her. You declined. You got back in touch with Sam and Bucky not long after they dealt with the Flag Smashers. As a matter of fact, your friendship with Bucky is how you ended up in the New Avengers at all. Call it right place, right time. Or, wrong place, wrong time.
With everything that happened with Valentina and O.X.E. and your new team, your relationship with Roman felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. Even so, romance and dating were far from your mind now that you had a sense of purpose. You had a team, or friends, or a new family, depending on how sentimental you were feeling. Again, even with how close you were, you decided that none of them wanted nor needed to hear about your relationship and how much it had affected you. When it came up, you tried to play it cool and pretended like it was a routine, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable breakup.
Of all of your teammates, you’ve known Bucky the longest. Besides Sam, you’re probably his best friend. However, even with how close you are, you’ve never told him the truth about the breakup.
He likes to think he can read you pretty well, that he can tell when something’s up with you and, in some cases, what’s up with you. For the most part, he can. But, he’s not infallible. Before the mission, he thought you were completely fine, only for you to pull a stupid stunt out of nowhere.
“Do you realise how reckless that was?”
Bucky folds his arms and fixes his gaze on you. You mirror him and narrow your eyes. With the tension between you, you’re glad that the rest of the team decided to leave the pair of you to it, retiring to their respective rooms to avoid the inevitable fallout.
To answer his question: yes, you realise how reckless that was. But, stubborn as you are, you don’t care to admit it. Not yet.
“Enlighten me.”
He can’t help but breathe out a humourless laugh.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He runs his non-metal hand over his face.
“He smashed your head into the ground, what, ten times?”
You give a petulant shrug.
“It was only, like, seven.”
“Oh well, excuse me,” he says with a shake of his head. “You could’ve teleported away or—or something. That’s what you always do, right? So, why didn’t you do it this time?”
Why did you let him hurt you like that?
“It was an easy distraction. My body can take that kind of thing, at least to that point. And, it worked, so I don’t know what you’re mad about.”
“Any damage to your head and your powers are weakened, right?”
“Weakened, sure, but I wouldn’t have been totally useless.”
Bucky cringes.
“I didn’t mean you would be useless, okay? But, you can’t leave yourself vulnerable like that. You need your powers and we need your powers.”
So badly, you want for him to say that he needs you, but, of course, he doesn’t. If that thought at all enters his mind, it doesn’t reach his face, or his eyes, which you can’t bear to meet.
“It won’t happen again.”
Bucky looks at you. It feels like he’s examining you. You’re never this easy. There’s something more to this – something you don’t want him to figure out, or else you would’ve come out with it already. He soon spots something he doesn’t like: the faintest grimace is etched into your features.
“What’s up? Are you okay?”
He takes a step closer to you and you take a step back, as casually as you can manage. But, he notices. And, he says nothing.
“I probably just need some painkillers for my head. Are we done?”
“Stay here. I’ll go get you some.”
“So… not done. Great.”
With a huff, you throw yourself onto the couch. Bucky returns a minute later and places a box of painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table in front of you. You look up at him from your seat and watch as he sits opposite you. You feel like you ought to straighten up, so you do. He leans forward, his gaze fixed on you. It is so intense that you’re surprised that you don’t melt or burst out laughing. To keep either from happening, you direct your full focus to the small plastic tray of painkillers in your hand and pop a couple of the little pills out of their foil seals.
“What’s going on?”
To buy yourself some time, you keep the glass at your lips until the water is completely drained. It looks completely ridiculous and it hurts your throat to gulp it down so quickly. Some water dribbles down your chin and there’s little dignity in it. Bucky doesn’t say anything all the while. You suppose you’ve been friends for long enough that dignity isn’t a concern anymore.
“Nothing. A bit of pain, that's all.”
You tap your head with your index finger. He rolls his eyes. In an effort to retain some patience, he clenches his jaw before responding.
“Something’s going on. You could’ve gotten away, distracted him from a distance, but you let him beat you up.”
“Like I said, I can handle that kind of impact. Hell, I could’ve gone all day.”
Bucky’s breath catches in his throat. It’s a familiar sentiment that he’d put up with for years. And, with just those six words, he pieces it together – why you would do something so unlike yourself.
“You don’t have to be Steve.”
You fold your arms self-consciously. Your first instinct is to avert your gaze, but you force yourself to sneak a glance at him.
“What?”
“The self-sacrifice, pushing your body to its limits — you don’t have to do it. You don’t have anything to prove.”
“I’m not trying to be him. I know I’ll never be him. In any way. I’d have to be stupid to think otherwise.”
Of course, you know how juvenile you sound. Bucky takes a moment to think before responding, painfully aware of his power to make the situation much, much worse. He can say you have nothing to prove all he likes but it doesn’t mean you’ll believe it. If it were that simple, you wouldn’t look so dour even after his reassurance.
“You know, Steve told me that he saw himself in you.”
At that, you send him an incredulous look.
“Steve Rogers? Captain America saw himself in me?”
You say it like there couldn’t be two people less alike.
“Yeah. When he first met you, you were this scrappy kid and you wanted to do good. You could’ve gone down the wrong path, but you didn’t,” Bucky explains. He pauses, then adds, “I see it, too.”
He waits for you to say something. But, you don’t. You simply sit there, your eyebrows pinched together. It’s as though a thousand thoughts have flooded your mind all at once and you’re trying to not let a single one register on your face.
“Your heart’s in the right place. Like his. That’s what counts. Not taking an unnecessary beating.”
To his horror, he sees tears build in your eyes. You rise to your feet, ducking your head so your face is out of his view.
“I’m, uh, I’m gonna go lie down.”
He hears a tremble in your voice. It compels him to stand up, too. As you go to leave, he calls your name. Although you hesitate, you face him. Whatever he was about to say, if he figured it out at all, vanishes from his mind with just that look.
He settles on, “Are you… crying?”
You chew on your bottom lip.
“I’ll just sleep it off.”
Of course, he’s made it much, much worse.
– – –
Bucky leaves it a few hours before he tries again. To his surprise, you let him into your room without protest — not that he was planning on forcing his way in. After a moment of hesitation, he joins you on the edge of your bed, keeping a respectable distance of a few feet between you.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I might have overreacted.”
He shakes his head.
“You don’t need to be sorry. I might’ve overreacted, too. Sorry.”
You don’t say anything. He sighs.
“So, what’s going on? Did I say something?”
“No. Well, yeah. But, you didn’t mean anything, or, I guess, you didn’t mean it how I felt it.”
His brow furrows.
“So, what did I say?”
“You saw how Steve saw himself in me.”
He nods slowly.
“Okay.”
He doesn’t have a clue why you were so bothered by it – why would he? – but he’s not impatient or unkind. You can’t help but feel guilty that he cares.
“This really isn’t about you.”
“I don’t care that it’s not about me.”
You shake your head.
“You don’t wanna hear about it. And, I don’t want to cry about my stupid feelings to someone whose life’s been genuinely miserable and terrible and messed up. No offence.”
“None taken. You’re not wrong,” he says, then he lets out another sigh. “We’re friends. I’m not always the most open, but it doesn’t mean—” He pauses. “Whatever’s going on, I wanna know, okay?”
The brief eye contact is overwhelming so you avert your gaze. You hesitate before you say anything.
“Okay, well, I guess… it brought up some stuff I think sometimes when I’m being down on myself. Like, maybe, you only keep me around because I’m the closest thing to Steve you have left, with Sam off doing Captain America stuff. I’m just… the consolation prize. So, it feels like—well, I feel like, maybe, I need to try to be Steve, or like Steve to belong here, and for you to...”
You don’t know how you want to finish that thought, only that you don’t want to finish it.
“And, what’s worse, I know I’m doing a bad job of it,” you continue. “I don’t even want to be Steve. I just want to be me. But, I know ‘just me’, the protege he left behind, isn’t good enough.”
He chews on his bottom lip as he lets it sink in and comes up with a careful response. He doesn’t want to unlock new levels of making this worse.
“Look, us being friends, you being here — it has nothing to do with Steve or Sam or anybody. It doesn’t even have anything to do with you having my back in the past,” he explains. “If I ever made you feel like a ‘consolation prize’, I’m sorry, okay?”
“It’s not you. It’s all on me, how I feel. But, it’s hard not to feel that way. I’m always the last resort, if I’m any resort at all. When my mom and my siblings were all Blipped away, my dad was already gone by the time I got back to the States. He didn’t wait for me or anything. And, I was only asked to help bring everyone back because I was one of the, like, ten people left who could do anything. And then the whole thing with Roman happened. That’s probably the straw that broke the camel’s back with this whole inferiority complex thing.”
“Roman? That’s your ex, right?”
“Yeah. That’s the one.”
He tilts his head.
“I thought you said it was a regular breakup.”
“I did. I thought the truth would sound stupid. No one with real trauma wants to hear about how a dumb breakup messed me up, right?”
“What happened, exactly?”
“It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound. His fiancé was Blipped, then they were brought back with everyone else. Roman left me to go back to them. He wasn’t a dick about it. But, it was always gonna hurt. And, when I was trying to move on, I realised that, the whole time we were together, he probably wanted them all along but he had to settle for me.”
“That’s pretty awful.”
You shoot him a pointed look.
“As awful as being tortured?”
He presses his mouth into a thin line.
“No, probably not. But, it’s still awful. You don’t have to compare it.”
You shrug.
“It’s in the past now. It shouldn’t matter.”
Bucky clamps his eyes shut, rolling his head back a little.
“I don’t know what I can say to make this better,” he says. “But, if it makes any difference, you’re important to this team and… you’re important to me. If Steve came back tomorrow, or if I saw Sam more often, it wouldn’t change anything. You’re one of the few people I actually like. I care about you. A lot. I wouldn’t have freaked out earlier if I didn’t.”
Against all odds, you believe him. Tears build in your eyes. When you don’t say anything, he finally looks at you. There’s deep affection in his gaze, so powerful that it sends you over the edge. The tears spill. Bucky clenches his jaw. God, he really needs to stop making you cry. Even through the blur of tears, you still notice his expression.
“These aren’t sad tears, I swear!” you insist. “It made a difference. Thank you, Buck. Thank you so much.”
He reaches over and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You take it as an invitation to give him a hug, so you teleport closer to him and fling your arms around his torso. He rests his hands on your back.
i dont know if you ever finished it but i was looking thru ghostbuster fic tags and saw you mention a cute ray/reader with venkman setting them up and i just wanted you to know you totally 1000000% have an audience of at least one (me!) for that
hey!! i yap about a lot of fic ideas i have and so i have no clue which one specifically that would've been lmao
i've posted a fic that has this premise, which i assume is what i was talking about in the post. i'll link it here.
i also have a fic in the works with ray and a retail worker. the premise is that venkman goes to the reader's store quite a lot, and so they have a kind of rapport. ray's been to the store with venkman a few times and he seems to like the reader, so venkman invites the reader to hang out at a bar with them. the reader declines, but they end up at the bar anyway while on a night out with their sister. and so while venkman is hitting on the reader's sister, ray and the reader get to talking. i'm also thinking maybe there could be a scene with a ghost at the store that the reader works at. i've written a bit of it but i haven't decided quite what to do with it yet. it's one of the fics i'm determined to getting around to finishing, so hopefully it'll be out by the end of my lifetime. (if you couldn't tell, i'm a retail worker, so i love writing self-indulgent fics like that lol)
thanks for the encouragement, anyway!! it always means a lot when people tell me that they're interested in my ideas.
Relationship(s): Ryland Grace x gn!reader (ambiguous; implied queerplatonic)
Summary: Ryland Grace doesn't even have a dog. You're the closest thing that he has to 'someone', but, whatever that means, it isn't enough to change Stratt's mind. Whether he'll admit it or not, Stratt isn't heartless, and so she lets him see you one last time. But, what do you say to someone who's going to die? What do you say when you're going to die? Is there much to say at all, other than 'goodbye'?
Warnings: This fic prioritises angst over logic, uses the timeline of the book with Grace being kept in a cell, instead of being drugged right away, heavy angst. (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 1k
(A/N: First of all, thank you for all of the love on my first PHM fic! Anyway, maybe this will put off a significant chunk of readers, but I decided to heavily imply that Grace and the reader's relationship is queerplatonic, seeing as I love the headcanon of Grace being aroace. You could probably still read this as being romantic if you wanted to, but I didn't write this with that intention. I have so many thoughts on the 'you don't even have a dog' line when viewed through an aroace lens, and I touched on it a little in this fic, but I'll have some restraint for now and leave it at that. If you have any PHM requests you'd like for me to write, let me know! Two ideas I'm considering are a fic where Grace explains his queerplatonic relationship with you to Rocky, and one where the reader, Grace's QPP, talks to Stratt, but, for the latter, I'm not entirely sure which direction to go with it, so let me know if you have any thoughts on that.)
Grace doesn’t think you’re real when you step into his cell, but he’s startled enough to sit up. Maybe they already drugged him and this is some coma dream. You’re a distant memory from his old life, from before Project Hail Mary and this glorified death row. You don’t belong here. And, yet, after he’s already resigned himself to never seeing anyone from back home again, here you are.
Your eyes are wide and glassy as you take in the miserable sight of him. He wells up, too. It’s been so long since you last saw one another — a lifetime ago, it feels like. He was plucked from that old life so abruptly that you’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye. As you stare at one another, it dawns on the both of you that this is it. The goodbye you never got, the goodbye you never expected to get and, crucially, the only time you have left together. He leaps to his feet and flings his arms around you, holding you by the shoulders. His fingers dig into your flesh but it doesn’t hurt. Then, he pulls away.
“You’re here?” he says. “How?”
“I don’t know how she found me or how she even knew about me to begin with. Ms. Stratt, I mean. She thought you might want to see me. She said I’m the closest thing you have to someone. I think it’s her way of…” You trail off, realising the mistake of bringing her up.
He clenches his jaw. The anger doesn’t reach his eyes, which are filled with a mixture of despondency and numbness. You know he’s furious only with her and that it’s nothing to do with you. Still, you can’t help but feel like you’ve made it all worse by coming. Is this rubbing salt in the wound?
“I’m sorry if being here makes this harder.”
“No, no. It doesn’t. But, y’know, I’m dead either way so it doesn’t really matter,” he says bitterly, his shrug anything but nonchalant. “Can’t get any worse than dying, right?”
You chew on your bottom lip, then say, “I’m so sorry. If there was anything I could do—”
His expression softens.
“I know. I know. But, if you tried anything, it’d literally be you against the world. And…” He huffs instead of finishing the thought. “I understand that your hands are tied, okay? You don’t need to be sorry.”
And… He was going to say, before he thought better of it. No one would care, would they? Even given the circumstances of him not wanting to go, of him begging to not be made to go. His life – his singular, solitary existence – doesn’t outweigh the entire population of the human race. It doesn’t matter what he wants. He needs to do this. The world needs him to do this.
You shake your head.
“Sorry. This isn’t about me.” You pause. “I’d ask how you are, but…”
He cracks a sad smile.
You sigh.
“What do you want this to be, Grace?”
He tilts his head.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, not to get too morbid but you’re the one who’s…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. “Do you want this to not be sad? Do you want me to console you?”
It sounds laughably robotic, or like an alien who knows not of this human concept of emotion. But… what do you say to someone who’s going to be sent to their death?
He clears his throat and rubs his eyes.
“I don’t know. A real goodbye, I guess. Like we never got before.”
You nod.
“Okay. We can do that.”
Even with this guidance, you’re still not sure what to say. Everything that comes to mind feels wrong. You’re so brave for doing this. It isn’t his choice. You’ll be a hero. It isn’t his choice. Thank you for sacrificing your life for the survival of humanity. It isn’t his choice.
That’s probably what Stratt told him, you figure. What else can you say to someone, your friend, who you’re sending to die — against their will, no less? And, it’s probably the last thing he wants to hear from you. If you say any of that stuff, he’ll think you’re okay with this, which you’re not. Of course you’re not. Be it to him or yourself, you don’t want to even attempt to justify this immense cruelty, or pragmatism, or cosmic trolley problem or whatever anyone cares to call it.
“I’ve missed you,” you settle on saying. You swallow. “And, I will miss you. Always.”
He nods, and you take it as: ‘I’ve missed you, too, and I will miss you. Always.’
“You’ve meant so much to me,” you continue. “You’re the only person I’ve ever felt seen by. I always felt alone my whole life. I know you’ve felt that way, too, and I don’t want you to… to die thinking you were alone. Or, I guess, I hope I’ve been enough to make you feel not totally alone for some of your life, because that’s who you were—are for me.”
He has no immediate family. He doesn’t even have a dog. He has his kids. They’re not enough to sway Stratt. And, he has you. Stratt isn’t sure what exactly you are to him, really. You’re enough for each other, close enough for Stratt to take pity on you both, but it isn’t enough to change her mind.
He nods more vigorously this time. He still can’t bring himself to speak. Tears spill from his eyes, finally. You don’t know what else to say. And, then, before you can figure it out, a cry erupts from his throat, agonised and sorrowful.
Without warning, he grabs you and clings to you. This time, it hurts a little but you don’t even care. He buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your skin dampens with his tears. His body trembles as he sobs.
“I’m scared. I’m so, so scared.” His voice cracks. You feel him shake his head. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna die.”
You break. Your own tears start to fall, no doubt landing in his hair and trickling down his back. You wrap your arms around him. What else can you do? You can’t save him from his fate. All you can do is hold him and cry with him, until the guard at the door tells you that it’s time to say goodbye.
I’M REAding consolation prize and do not say it’s bad I’m only halfway through and it’s great I love the conceppttt andd also I click on your blog and 🥺🥹🥹🥹you’re ace as well 😭 me too
i have this awful thing where if i don't get a single like on a post i make within the first hour, i assume that so many people must have read it already and everyone thinks it's shit. but then i have to rationalise it with 'well, people are probably asleep or doing another life thing that isn't reading fanfiction'.
The Bucky variation | The Walker variation (coming soon)
Context (please read): I’ve written the reader with this backstory in mind. If you don’t wanna read the whole post, tldr: reader is Clint Barton’s adopted mutant kid (now in their 20s or 30s) from another universe. The reader can teleport and fly as part of their mutation. They were on Team Cap in Civil War. Not included in the post: they hid out in Wakanda with Bucky after Civil War, which led to them becoming friends. All of this somewhat explained in the fic itself, but I still felt it was worth giving this added context just in case.
Relationship(s): Bob Reynolds x gn!mutant!Barton!reader (romantic); Original Male Character x gn!mutant!Barton!reader (romantic, past)
Summary: After a particularly bad breakup, you can't help but wonder if all you're good for is being someone's consolation prize.
Warnings: Bad breakup, questionable past relationship (it's not abusive or explicitly toxic but there are some red flags), insecurity, mental health struggles, misunderstanding, angst. (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 2.5k
(A/N: Okay, so, this is going to be a miniseries. So far, I only intend on writing a variation for Bucky and a variation for Walker. However, if you do have any ideas for a variation involving Yelena or Ava, feel free to send in an ask. Though, because I write Yelena as aroace, any request for her would have to be platonic or queerplatonic. You're going to have to excuse a baseline level of laziness because the same core premise will be recycled across each fic, as will the exposition dump explaining the reader's backstory and their past relationship. However, there will be sufficient deviation with each individual character and the source of conflict. This variation uses Bob's friendship with Yelena, the variation about Bucky will use both Bucky and the reader's friendship with Steve and the variation about Walker will use Walker's failed marriage. I'm a little nervous that this idea is actually awful so it'd mean a lot if you let me know that it's not, provided you don't think it's awful, that is.)
A lot happened in your life before you became a New Avenger. You’d travelled across the multiverse to escape a genocide, you’d helped to fight a rogue AI, you’d been imprisoned, you’d been in exile, you’d watched half the population – including many of your friends and allies – crumble to dust, you’d travelled back in time to resurrect them all.
So, that something as trivial as a breakup would devastate you so deeply seemed ludicrous. That’s why you hadn’t opened up about it to your teammates. Not only was it nowhere near ‘as bad’ as the other things that had happened in your own life, it wasn’t comparable to your teammates’ traumas either.
You met Roman around a year after half the population had been purged from existence. Although you still heard from Nat, Tony and Steve every now and then, you were, for all intents and purposes, alone. Your mother and siblings were gone gone, while your dad, who had survived, had left before you got back to the US. With a pardon and a little financial help from Tony Stark, you had a fresh start. Like him, you’d decided to give up the hero crap in favour of living a normal life — or as close to one as you could manage, anyway. Being a mutant from a different universe, you hadn’t been given much of a chance at normality.
Lonely as you were for that first year, it didn’t seem to matter when you met Roman.
Roman, like you (and everyone else), had lost pretty much everyone, including his fiancé. This shared sense of desolation helped to bring you together. You fell hard and fast for him. You had assumed it was mutual, and, of course, with it being your first relationship, you hadn’t known any better, even though you were a grown adult who probably should’ve known better. Hindsight’s a wonderful thing. He’d been so accepting of the fact that you were a mutant. He didn’t judge you for having been a fugitive. He didn’t think you were selfish for giving up being a hero.
For four years, you were happy together. You moved in with him at the six month mark (a tad hasty, perhaps, but you were smitten, after all). You had date night every Friday night. You spent holidays with his younger sister and his nephew — his only two relatives who had survived the Blip. You could talk about anything and everything with him. Sure, sometimes you felt restless, useless and guilty. It was something you opened up to him about time and time again. He assured you that you deserved to live a quiet, normal life if that’s what you wanted. It was what you’d wanted at the time.
Then, your old friends, your dad, and a talking raccoon, for some reason, called upon you to help bring everyone back. Roman was supportive of your choice to go. Of course, you were willing to potentially sacrifice your life for a cause much bigger than yourself. But, you wanted to make it back not only for your own sake – you quite liked being alive now that you had a nice enough life – but also for his sake. You didn’t want to be another person he lost. He said he’d be waiting for you.
When you got back, he was waiting for you. So was his resurrected fiancé. At first, you thought it was going to be complicated and messy, but you soon realised that it was going to be simple. Not easy, but simple. Since it was his apartment, it was down to you to move out. Roman insisted that you could stay until you found somewhere else to live. He wasn’t cruel about it. But, you wanted to leave as soon as you possibly could. Despite the circumstances, your parents were happy to have you home again, even if you moped around the house like a heartbroken teenager for the first month or so.
The more time that passed, the less it hurt. You hadn’t figured out what you were going to do next. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine tried over and over to recruit you to do some shady jobs for her. You declined. You got back in touch with Sam and Bucky not long after they dealt with the Flag Smashers. As a matter of fact, your friendship with Bucky is how you ended up in the New Avengers at all. Call it right place, right time. Or, wrong place, wrong time.
With everything that happened with Valentina and O.X.E. and your new team, your relationship with Roman felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. Even so, romance and dating were far from your mind now that you had a sense of purpose. You had a team, or friends, or a new family, depending on how sentimental you were feeling. Again, even with how close you were, you decided that none of them wanted nor needed to hear about your relationship and how much it had affected you. When it came up, you tried to play it cool and pretended like it was a routine, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable breakup.
Everyone settled into life in the Watchtower quickly enough — everyone except for Bob, of course. You could tell that he didn’t feel like he fit in. His perpetual anxiety made it difficult for him to articulate his thoughts and feelings. In turn, it was difficult to understand quite what was going on inside his head beyond… well, turmoil. He was nervous around everyone, carrying himself as though his existence was an inconvenience.
Of all the New Avengers, it was clear that he was the most comfortable around Yelena. You always saw them off to the side, her hand on his arm as they talked in hushed voices. That wasn’t to say that he only spoke to Yelena. But, he was so self-conscious that, more often than not, he’d wait for someone else to initiate a conversation because he would know, then, that he probably wasn’t bothering them. You went out of your way to speak to him enough times that he’d gotten more comfortable around you than most of your other teammates.
Maybe it was all in your head but you felt a kinship with him. Of course, you felt that way about your other teammates, too. You were a merry band of misfits finally getting a shot at being real heroes. You could relate to them all but with Bob in particular it reminded you of yourself when you were the mutant kid who didn’t fit in, when you were on your own during that first year after the Blip, when you were struggling through your mourning period after things ended with Roman. You knew all too well what it was like to feel unwanted, like you didn’t belong, like you were some kind of freak. If you could make him feel less like that, you would.
There hadn’t been an ulterior motive behind your friendliness. But, of course, the more time you spent with him, you couldn’t help but fall for him. As much as he didn’t like himself, he was lovable. You tried your best to hide how you felt about him. After all, he probably didn’t feel the same and you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, like he’d have to choose between your unwanted attention and being lonely again.
Although you thought you were doing a good job at hiding your feelings, something felt off about Bob as of late. There was a distinct awkwardness he showed around you, as if he was trying to find an appropriate balance between being your friend and keeping you at an arm’s length. It made you wonder if he had figured it out after all, and that you made him uncomfortable but he didn’t know how to tell you.
You conceded that you may well have been jumping to conclusions in assuming that Bob had realised how you felt about him. But, it did nothing to change that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. After all, why would he like you like that? It was a question you tormented yourself with over and over. To make it all worse, you would see him with Yelena, how comfortable he was, and you wished he could be comfortable around you like that. And, then, another hideous thought crept in.
Why would he like you like that when he has Yelena?
You love Yelena. Her friendship means more to you than anything that might come from this silly, hopeless crush on Bob. Still, as much as you tried to fight it, the bitterness and heartbreak flooded through you like a poison.
But, you couldn’t just distance yourself. It would’ve been juvenile, first and foremost. More importantly, you didn’t want to cause a rift in this weird little family you’d found. Not only that but you didn’t want to make anyone worry, especially Bob, who did little else but worry. There was a chance that he hadn’t realised that you had feelings for him and pulling away would devastate him — make him spiral as he wondered what he’d done wrong.
So, all you’ve been able to do is muddle through it. You’ve done your best to pretend that you are totally fine and that you aren’t dying a little inside. And, you’ve done so well at pretending that you’ve almost convinced yourself that you are totally fine.
It has all been going fine – better than you expected, anyway – and then Bob throws you for a loop. He tells you, between stammers and ‘uh’s, that he really, really likes you and you’re so amazing and great and would you maybe like to go out with him some time? On a date, to be clear.
But, he likes Yelena, right? You are certain of it. Or, you were. The notion that men and women can’t be friends without one or both of them wanting romance or sex is archaic. But, well, you don’t know. You’re sure he likes Yelena. The way he acts around her. The way he looks at her. It’s as undeniable as the concept of gravity.
Which would mean…
Oh, God. Not again.
For the past ten seconds or ten minutes you’ve been gaping at him. With each moment his throat constricts tighter and tighter. He runs his fingers through his hair.
“Have I got this totally wrong? I thought this’d be a big mistake but Yelena said…”
You scrunch your eyes shut at her name. It’s a reflex that comes with an immediate wave of guilt and shame. Yelena is one of your closest friends and to think about her like that… it makes you hate yourself a bit. What kind of maladjusted, pathetic person resents their friend like that?
He blurts out, “I’m so sorry. I—”
You open your eyes.
“You like Yelena, right?”
His eyebrows pinch together and he tilts his head.
“Huh? What?”
“I just—you have a thing for Yelena, right?” Saying it makes you feel like an idiot, especially with how he’s looking at you, and so you’re compelled to justify the assumption. Hot tears build in your eyes. You blink rapidly, hoping to get rid of them. “I know she’s aroace, but it’s not like that means you couldn’t have feelings for her, you know…”
Bob chews on his bottom lip before responding.
“I don’t—” He shakes his head. “I don’t like Yelena like that.”
“You… don’t?”
“No. We’re close but it’s—it’s not like that.”
A lump forms in your throat. The tears finally spill down your burning cheeks. His face flushes. His eyes brim with mortification and horror. He can’t bring himself to look at you. You watch his chest rise and fall rapidly.
“I got this wrong, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. I’m so, so—”
You let out a shaky exhale.
“No, no. You don’t—you don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t get anything wrong, okay? I’m the one who got it wrong. I just assumed—because…”
He steals a glance at you.
“Because, what?” he asks softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” you insist, using the heels of your palms to swipe at your tears. “It’s stupid. It’s not, like, a thing. Or, I guess, it shouldn’t be a thing.”
“You can tell me. If you want. Even if it is stupid.”
You meet his gaze and you see his genuine concern, the fact that you could say something absurd and he wouldn’t judge you for it.
“I’ve told you about my ex, Roman, right?”
Bob nods.
“Well, we broke up just after everyone came back from the Blip. His fiancé from before came back and he picked them over me. When I was with him, I was the happiest I’ve ever been. I’d never really had anyone like that before. I thought that he was happy with me, too. I thought that I was good enough to make someone else happy even after such a huge loss. And, sure, maybe he was happy with me. As happy as he could be with someone who wasn’t them. But, in hindsight, I think all I was to him was… I was his consolation prize, you know? Because, he didn’t think he’d ever get them back,” you explain. Bob feels an ache in his chest. “And, sometimes, I feel like that’s all I’m good for, or that I’m not good enough to begin with. I’m a knock-off Avenger who’s only off the bench because the rest of them are dead or retired or whatever, so ‘hey, I guess Hawkeye’s mutant kid’ll have to do’. And, I wasn’t even enough for my dad. He didn’t stick around after my family got Blipped. So, I don’t know, I thought that this was that again, that… you were settling for me because—because you couldn’t have…”
It’s then that you dissolve into a mess of sobs and tears. Bob’s eyes are wide. He feels like he’s on the verge of cracking, too, but he doesn’t let himself. He hesitates – not wanting to make this any worse – but he can’t just do nothing. He throws his arms around your shoulders and pulls you against him. You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face in his sweatshirt. It dampens with your tears. He doesn’t mind.
“It’s okay,” he mumbles. “It’s okay.”
When you finally pull away from him, your cheeks are hot and wet and they sting like hell.
“I’m sorry, Bob,” you say weakly.
He shakes his head.
“You don’t need to be sorry. I get it,” he replies. “For what it’s worth, that’s not what you are to me. That’s not what you are to anyone. You’re—you’re so great. Like, so, so… great. It makes me psyche myself out, y’know, because why would you like me how I like you, right?”
His eyes glisten with unmistakable adoration and sincerity. It’s bittersweet. Your heart is torn between melting at his praise and aching at his self-deprecation that reminds you a lot of your own.
“I really like you, too, Bob,” you say with a faint smile. “I really do.”
He smiles, too. It’s shy and adorable and you want so badly to pinch his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses. It doesn’t feel like the right time just yet. Instead, you settle on another hug. In his arms, you feel truly wanted. You hope that he feels wanted, too.
i've got two posts scheduled to go up in the next couple of weeks and i'm feeling good about it!! i've had a lot of motivation to write over the past few days (hence the grace fic that went up on monday). both fics are thunderbolts* fics, bob and bucky specifically. i wanna try to get back into posting once a week but i'm not gonna put too much pressure on myself.
if you have any requests, let me know!! my preferred fandoms at the moment are at the bottom of my pinned post.
A fellow lone insignificant little speck of nothing (one-shot) [romantic or platonic]
You're a teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle School. You consider Dr. Grace to be a work friend at most. Until one day, when you realise that you have more in common than you ever realised...
Time to say goodbye (oneshot) [ambiguous; implied queerplatonic]
Ryland Grace doesn’t even have a dog. You’re the closest thing that he has to ‘someone’, but, whatever that means, it isn’t enough to change Stratt’s mind. Whether he’ll admit it or not, Stratt isn’t heartless, and so she lets him see you one last time. But, what do you say to someone who’s going to die? What do you say when you’re going to die? Is there much to say at all, other than 'goodbye’?
A fellow lone insignificant little speck of nothing | Ryland Grace
MASTERLIST | AO3
Relationship(s): Ryland Grace x teacher!gn!reader (romantic or platonic)
Summary: You're a teacher at Grover Cleveland Middle School. You consider Dr. Grace to be a work friend at most. Until one day, when you realise that you have more in common than you ever realised...
Warnings: Mental health struggles, loneliness, potentially inaccurate portrayal of the teaching profession. (Let me know if I need to add any)
Word count: 1k
(A/N: My first fic in, like, two months! My bad. Truth be told, I've not been doing fantastic mentally for stretches of time these past couple of months so I've not had much motivation to write for this blog. It's nothing serious and I'm pretty much fine. Sorta. I channelled a lot of my feelings into this fic because most of what's been getting me down is loneliness. Through the end of March to the end of April, I read Project Hail Mary. When I finished reading it, I watched the movie and I love both of them so much. My portrayal of Grace is kinda an amalgamation of book!Grace and movie!Grace. Also, I love the headcanon of Grace being aroace, so I've made sure that this can be read as either romantic or platonic depending on how you view him. I'd love to write more for him so feel free to send in requests!)
In the minutes that follow the end-of-day bell, the lively hum of kids (and some teachers) racing to leave the building fades to the occasional squeak of shoes against the linoleum floor. As you close the classroom door, you take the opportunity to deflate. You plop down into your chair and sit at your desk with your head in your hands. There’s nothing to occupy your mind with, aside from the papers you need to grade and the lessons you need to plan, of course. But, you can do that when you get home. To your sad, empty home where you live your sad, empty life.
You sit like that for a while. You don’t even know how much time passes. It’s peaceful yet overwhelming. Ordinarily, it would’ve been nice — a moment to yourself after a long day of having thirty pairs of eyes on you at all times. But, going from that to complete silence is a reminder of what your life is when you take away those kids and this job.
“Oh, good, you’re still here. I was wondering if—”
His voice makes you jump. Before you even register who it is, you rush to compose yourself. You look up and see Dr. Grace in your doorway. His eyes are wide behind his glasses.
“Shoot. Sorry. I should’ve knocked or—I’ll just leave you alone.”
He goes to leave.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Everything okay?”
He stops.
“Yeah, yeah. I was going to ask for help with something but, uh, if now’s not a good time—”
“Now’s fine. What’s up?”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“Are you sure? Because, it really isn’t all that important.”
You shrug.
“I have nothing better to do.”
“Okay, well.” He clears his throat. “It’s Jeff Wagner again.”
He reaches into his satchel and hands you a folded-up sheet of paper.
“His handwriting?” you guess without even opening it up.
“Yeah. I mean, some of it’s readable, and I could guess for most of it.” You unfold the paper and scan it. “I circled the words that didn’t look like… words. I think I’d have a better shot at decrypting hieroglyphics.”
You chuckle with a shake of your head.
“I’ll take a crack at it, if you want. No promises, but I can try.”
“If you’ve got time, that’d be great.”
“Sure. I’ll come find you in the morning.”
“Great. Thank you so much.”
“No worries,” you say. “I’m thinking that maybe we should look at giving him some kind of support. Like, a workbook for handwriting. Or, I don’t know, I’ll go ask around about what works best for this kinda thing.”
“That sounds good. Do you want me to set that up or—”
“I’m fine. To do it, I mean.”
He lets out a sigh.
“Look, if you don’t wanna talk, it’s fine. But, if you do wanna talk, I’m here.”
“Like I said, I’m fine. Thank you, Dr. Grace.”
His expression is torn between concern and impatience.
“You were crying. Something has to be up.”
“I wasn’t crying. I was ruminating.”
“With your hands over your face?”
You lean back in your seat and fold your arms over your chest.
“Yeah. It’s how I get my best ruminating done.”
“Ruminating on what, exactly?”
“You don’t have to do this. I’m sure you have stuff to do.”
He cracks a rueful smile.
“You can’t know me that well if you think that.”
You sigh. He goes to the front row of desks and grabs the nearest chair. There’s a groan as the legs scrape across the floor. It’s a blue plastic chair that’s the right size for even a large middle schooler. But, it’s comically small for a six-foot-tall grown man (i.e. Dr. Grace). You eye him incredulously.
“Dr. Grace—”
“Hey, hey—” he interrupts, raising his index finger. “I thought we talked about this. You can call me Ryland. I might have a doctorate but I put on my shoes one at a time like everyone else.”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh. An involuntary smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You get the impression that he won’t let this go.
“Okay, fine. Well, either way… as a science guy, I have to ask: do you think we’re all insignificant little specks of nothing who float from meaningless task to meaningless task with no designated purpose in a vast and empty universe?”
He blinks in surprise.
“Yeesh. Are you okay? Like, seriously?”
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
“So, do you wanna elaborate? I mean, did you have a bad day? Are you depressed? What’s going on here?”
You let out a deep exhale.
“My life isn’t awful or anything. But, all I have is this job and these kids. Outside of this place, I have nothing. And, I feel pathetic saying that as a grown adult, but that’s just how it is, y’know? And, it’s not like I’m a workaholic or anything. I have time for people. But, I’ve never been good with that kind of thing. And, it feels like I’m too old to not have any real friends or anything.”
He scoffs.
“You’re not even old.”
“I know. But, it still feels like I’m running out of time. Like, at this rate, I’ll be alone forever.”
He stares at you. Maybe it’s pity. Maybe he regrets asking. Or, maybe he understands. When you finally dare to look back at him, you realise that, yes, he understands. There’s the hint of a grimace on his face — a crease between his eyebrows and a crinkle on the bridge of his nose. It’s partially obscured by the frame of his glasses, but you notice it all the same. This should be deeply uncomfortable. After all, you’re work colleagues and barely even friends. And, yet, it feels like so much more than that right now, so any awkwardness doesn’t matter.
He clears his throat again and his hand returns to his neck.
“Well, uh, if you’re not doing anything tonight, do you maybe wanna grab dinner or something?”
You narrow your eyes.
“You’re not hitting on me, are you? Because, now’s really not the time.”
He raises his hands defensively.
“Not at all. This is just a lone insignificant little speck of nothing asking a fellow lone insignificant little speck of nothing to do a meaningless task so they’re both not alone for one night. Sound good?”
Relationship(s): The Thunderbolts/New Avengers x nonbinary!reader (platonic)
Warnings: Mentions of dysphoria, mentions of transphobia, possible typos because I'm trying to be less perfectionist about my silly little headcanon posts. (Let me know if I need to add any)
(A/N: My first MCU fic! And, my first Pride Month 2025 fic. I used to be really into the MCU back in 2019, but then my love of and interest in it dwindled post-WandaVision. I've spent the past 5 years wanting to get back into the MCU, and it was Thunderbolts* that convinced me to finally do it. I rewatched the Cap movies and the Avengers movies and finally watched Black Widow and TFATWS. I'll (probably) do a full watch through of the whole MCU ready for Fantastic Four next month. But, yeah, I really fell in love with these movies again and I can't wait to write for these characters. I wanna do a fic where the reader is Hawkeye's adopted kid and they come out to him as nonbinary, particularly with the reader having this backstory. If you'd be interested in that, let me know! Also, I wanna write romantically for Bucky, particularly with an enby reader with that same backstory. I wanna be Bucky's lameass nonbinary partner genuinely. As always, requests are open! I have no idea what to write, really, I'll add the MCU to my fandom list when I've done a full catch-up.)
You’ll be happy to know that everyone on the team is cool with the whole nonbinary thing.
Mostly.
Alexei is a little confused but has the spirit.
Definitely ‘his/her pronouns are they/them!’ energy.
He is curious but not judgemental, and if anything he thinks it’s pretty cool.
Yelena, Bucky and Ava are normal about it and don’t treat it like a big deal.
At first Bob is clearly nervous about messing up how he refers to you, so you might have to reassure him that it’s fine for him to mess up as long as he tries his best.
On the opposite end of the spectrum is Walker, who, when you first meet him, can’t give less of a shit about offending you.
He doesn’t go out of his way to do it, and he isn’t malicious about it, but I can imagine him thinking ‘oh, great’ and rolling his eyes about it.
He doesn’t strike me as someone who has queer friends. Or friends. Especially after he bashed that guy’s head in.
He misgenders you and the only apology he offers is sarcastic and otherwise insincere because he’s got bigger things to worry about, like his wife leaving him.
Of course, Bucky, Ava and Yelena will all tell him to shut up and stop being a dick.
I adore my silly little idea of Ava and Yelena misgendering him to piss him off and see how he would like it, and it isn’t long until he concedes that it’d just be less of a headache to show you some basic respect and refer to you properly.
And, he will actually come to not be bothered by referring to you properly in the end.
I feel like Ava’s main way of showing support is by being a dick to people who are dicks to you about the gender thing.
Bucky knew you long before the whole Thunderbolts/New Avengers thing.
(TLDR: My headcanon is that, after Civil War, you lived in Wakanda after Steve busted you out of prison, which gave you a chance to get to know Bucky and vice versa)
When he first met you, all he knew about you was that you had stuck your neck out to save him, something for which he was grateful.
And, if you had Steve’s stamp of approval, that was more than enough for him.
The whole ‘nonbinary’ thing was unfamiliar to him.
He’d noticed how you were referred to by Steve and the others.
He took the approach of not questioning it, despite being confused.
Not asking about it became unavoidable when you grew closer.
One night, when you were both sitting around a fire in Wakanda, he very awkwardly asked you about it, and you had a long conversation about it.
After that, he understands well enough and he gets the hang of gendering you correctly in no time.
(I’d like to think you help explain other queer concepts to him).
If someone is a dick to you, he will stand up for you.
Whether or not you can handle things yourself, he takes it upon himself to have your back, like you had his, and like he always had Steve’s.
It’s in his nature to stick up for the little guy, you know?
I’d like to think that, after Bucky and the rest of the population is revived post-blip, you remain close to him.
You wind up being his best friend by default.
And, he does his own research on queer shit because he cares that much about you and being a good friend to you.
He doesn’t admit it or bring it up.
Even though you’re friends, he feels awkward about asking you things directly too much.
Either way, it’s clear he’s done his homework.
I’d like to think, as a congressman, he does what he can to advocate for queer people like you.
I feel like Valentina would try to encourage you to be the LGBTQ+ New Avenger.
Even though, y’know, there’s probably a few fruits in that basket if you get what I’m saying.
Her image of you is one of a corporate Pride poster child- someone who can appeal to a demographic, rather than an actual person.
She will try to parade you around like her token queer associate.
Hopefully, you’ll have none of it.
Bucky and Yelena will advocate for you.
They will tell you not to do anything you don’t want to do or otherwise feel uncomfortable doing.
There’s something so compelling about a superhero who is given the opportunity to be positive, visible, real-life representation for their community whilst also knowing they’ll have to be palatable in a way that likely sacrifices facets of their own identity and experiences.
I haven’t seen much of The Boys but that’s a storyline in that show I think.
If you exclusively use they/them pronouns, or pronouns that aren’t ‘they’, ‘she’ or ‘he’, Val definitely fucks up your pronouns a suspicious amount of times for someone who likes to appear like an ally.
If you use any pronouns, she will default to the pronouns of your AGAB with the occasional ‘they’ thrown in for good measure.
She really is one of those kinds of people, I fear; someone who isn’t queerphobic but is performative in her allyship.
If/when you’re feeling dysphoric, Yelena will be there to listen to you vent.
I love the idea that Yelena will warn everyone that you’re not feeling great, and Alexei will take it upon himself to hype you up.
“Heyyy, if it isn’t the most not-woman, not-man person I know!”
He claps you on the back and looks to Yelena for approval that he just did allyship right.
Again, he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit.
If you seem down and you’re clearly withdrawing from the rest of the team, I can imagine Bob asking you if you’re okay and stumbling over some clumsy words of comfort.
I feel like Yelena, Bucky and Bob would be more observant than the rest of your teammates when it comes to realising you’re reacting negatively to gender stuff.
They’re the ones who will catch you looking at your reflection for a few seconds too long, or obsessively readjusting your clothes or your hair, or doomscrolling through anti-trans headlines.
If you seem to be way too caught up in it, they’ll ask you if you’re alright, or otherwise try to distract you with something else (even if it’s obvious they know something’s up).
Ava will pick up on a lot of things but she is far less likely to say anything.
It’s not that she doesn’t care; it’s that she doesn’t think it’s her place to say anything because she wouldn’t be your ‘go-to’.
If she notices that you’re doomscrolling, though, I’d like to think she snatches your phone off you without a word.
You have to be so visibly bad for John or Alexei to notice.
And, even then, they might not realise it’s a gender thing.
But, if Alexei knows what’s wrong, he’ll try his best to comfort you.
He’s paternal like that.
John won’t bother saying anything.
His version of being nice is the bare minimum of not making you feel any worse.
Quickfire round:
If you’re transmasc, Alexei will offer to take you to do some stereotypically masculine activities.
He may also let you win an arm wrestling contest to make you feel better.
(If you couldn’t tell, I love the idea of Alexei being paternal to you).
If you ever want/need to go shopping for gender-affirming clothes, Yelena will be happy to go with you because clothes and other forms of self-expression mean a lot to her.
If you bind, Yelena and Bucky are really good at picking up if you’re doing it unsafely.
They will pick up on if you seem dehydrated or if your body language shows some discomfort, especially if you’re someone who isn’t great at taking care of themself.
In summary, you have some good teammates who look out for you.
okay so i've finally finished reading PHM and i saw the movie today, too.
so now i plan on writing a bit for Grace, my beloved. i've started working on a fic where the reader is a teacher at Grace's school and they're work friends but that's all it really is, until one day he finds them looking miserable in their classroom because they're kinda having an existential crisis about how alone they are and they finally realise how similar they are in their loneliness.
definitely not me projecting my own feelings of loneliness onto this fictional man
plus size!reader fics don’t always have to be about the reader being insecure. they can just include body descriptions that line up with being plus size, or specific compliments about plus size bodies.
this 100%!! i'm definitely guilty of either avoiding body descriptions altogether to be more inclusive to readers of any size, or making the fic about insecurity when the reader is specified as plus size. but, i do wish there were more fics out there where the reader was specified as plus size but it was more casual. i'd love to write more plus size-specific fics that don't have the reader being insecure, though!!
i'm gonna finish PHM in the next few days and i'll see the movie (finally) at the weekend. can't wait to write a Ryland Grace x English teacher!reader fic.
