#nonbinary y/n

[luxthestrange]

BNHA Incorrect quotes#13...The awakening 2-

NB!Y/n*Meeting the Big Three after Izuku told you about his odd but nice upperclassmen*Are the big three Zuzu told me about?~Im Y/n Midoriya!~

Tamaki:...

Nejire:...

Mirio: ARE YOU AN A THESPIAN?SUPERMODEL?-SEA DEITY?OR D ALL OF THE ABOVE?!-

NB!Y/n*Chuckling at his comment, looking at his eyes* Arent you sweet~

Mirio*Flushed under the collar and looks at Nejire and tamaki*O-Ok you guys get out of here...so me and beautiful gorgeous can live happily ever after-

Tamaki*Hidding his face and covers his eyes from your...radiance* Mi-mirio you in highschool and they're college, their old...er-

part 2:

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hey! Could I request a Wednesday imagine where R is her younger sibling, and Wednesday shocks everyone by being more gentle and patient with them?

Soft Thorns ||

|| Wednesday Addams & nonbinary!sibling reader

|| Warnings: platonic, first time writing for Wednesday's character, brief mentions of blood and reader getting injured (nothing insane)

|| Summary: Reader's on the more clumsy side, Wednesday's there to support Reader when they need it. Wednesday's "soft" side surprises everyone.

Requests open!

Started: April 23rd

Finished: April 23rd

~~~

You and Wednesday were only a couple years apart. Making you 14. Both you and her had started Nevermore at the same time, being paired with Enid for a roommate was definitely an experience the both of you weren't prepared for. She was different than what you were used to, although when you thought about it you and Enid weren't overly different from each other and connected on quite a few things. Building a fast friendship, unlike Wednesday who has tried keeping more so to herself. Only engaging in the occasional conversation with you.

It was after classes, you were struggling to carry all your binders as papers kept slipping. You rushed to snatch them but it was no use and the rest of your binders quickly hit the floor as your grip loosened. Sighing deeply, you stared at the papers in annoyance.

Wednesday, who had been walking slightly ahead because you both left from the same class, stopped and looked back at you. Raising an eyebrow as she watched you struggle.

Wordlessly she took a step towards you and then another until she was in front, crouched down and helping you pick up your papers. She handed all of them to you with a soft look. Well, a look as soft as Wednesday Addams could give. It was like looking at a soft thorn.

Enid had a bounce in her step as she joined the two of you, coming from her own class. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the look on Wednesday's face.

"Oh my Gosh! No way?? Wednesday-!" Before she could say anything else about it, Wednesday had already sent her a glare.

"Never speak of this." Wednesday muttered, you smiled and suppressed a laugh. It certainly wasn't the first time Wednesday had been softer for you. It was just the first time anyone besides you had seen it. You could only assume she was embarrassed, if she even had the ability to feel embarrassed.

Enid quickly nodded her head and the three of you returned to your shared dorm.

~~~

The following day, you had been in art class with Wednesday & Enid. Bianca and Xavier sat a distance away from you and were mostly doing their own thing.

You had been working with a modeling knife, trying to get a your piece cut in just the right ways you had envisioned. Wednesday's gaze shifted to the knife in your hand and then to your eyes.

"Be careful." She tells you. Wednesday had always been overprotective of you, it was just in her nature. Especially when you were her younger sibling.

Enid looks up from her own colourful artwork and gives Wednesday a confused look.

"What?" Wednesday stared at Enid, who quickly shook her head.

"Nope, nothing." Enid insists.

"You are a horrible liar." Wednesday responds, though her attention is quickly brought back to you when you gasp. You had made the stupid decision to keep your thumb a little too close to the knife as you worked to shape your clay. Her eyes narrowed at you and she took your had. Examining the cut, which had blood dripping from it." I told you to be careful." She looks at you again.

You give her an awkward smile, having set down your knife as you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. Looking off to the side. "Yeah, I know... hand slipped."

"You are an idiot." Wednesday continued, getting up and heading to the first aid kit in the class. "I cannot believe we are related." She muttered the last part to herself.

Enid, Bianca and Xavier were all watching her with the same looks of confusion before looking at you. Was Wednesday seriously taking care of you? They couldn't believe it.

Wednesday comes back to your and Enid's table," Hand." She demands, you sigh and extend your hand out to her.

"I'm fine, Wednesday." You assure her as she wipes your cut with a alcohol cloth, making you hiss in response to the sting that shot through your finger.

"Fine?" Wednesday raised an eyebrow at you when she saw your reaction.

"Oh come on, that's a natural reaction!" You huffed, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"Baby." Wednesday teased you and you rolled your eyes as she wrapped the bandaid around your cut.

Enid leaned back in her chair so she could be closer to Bianca and Xavier," You guys are seeing this too, right?" She whispered.

They both nodded slowly.

"Good, good, cool... just making sure I'm not going insane." Enid continued.

Once Wednesday was satisfied, she let go of your hand and looked at the other three with an annoyed stare.

"Will you stop looking at me as though I have grown three heads?" Wednesday said.

"Sorry, sorry- it's just-" Enid stuttered out an explanation.

Wednesday simply ignored it and returned to her work, making Enid sigh and look at you. You couldn't quite read what her expression was saying.

Though you were quite amused by everyone's reactions to how Wednesday treated you.

[unkn0wn-writing]

Hobie Brown x Nonbinary reader

Summary: Sitting upon a rooftop, you meet him up there. You both talk and he finds out what's irking you and ttries to think of a way to help. In the end, he's able to, in some way.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1k

Notes: G/N language is used up until the end! And, happy pride month!

Humming to no one but himself, Hobie’s eyes shift around the bustling city under him. Even out of his spider-stuff, he likes to be high up, watching other people.

Seeing what’s going on.

Like how there’s always this one teen who takes a walk around the block, at the same time, everday. Sometimes theres a limp to their movement. Sometimes there isn’t.

And there’s this other teen who takes a kid to the park most days. And an older person who manages to always drop off knitted clothes for those that need it.

What he sees doesn’t always end up being nice, but it’s good when he manages to see niceness in a world of depravity.

Eyes shifting away from the couple he was just watching, he takes note of a presence behind him, steadily walking closer.

His head tips back, eyes catching on yours, and he smirks, one corner lifting up. You offer a short wave before settling beside him, on the edgeof the building.

“What’re you doin’ up here, hm?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You’re his neighbour. Got to know him after he snuck into your place one note, an accident made from a hazy mind. He’d apologised later on and you accepted.

“Ah, people watching.”

“Your favourite activity.”

“Oh, why of course! Now you. You’re up here because…?”

“You looked lonely.”

“Wh- I was not lonely,” he rebukes. After a moment, he does add, “it’s fine though.”

“Mm. I’d hope so, otherwise I’d leave.”

“Taking away my company as soon as it’s given, how unfair. I suppose I ought to report you then.”

“I never did anything.”

“That’s what they all say.”

“Wow. How cruel, the ever-kind Hobie turning against me.”

“You turned against me first!”

Laughs echo around the two of you as a chuckle escapes him, smirking drifting furter up.

He turns to you and notes your expression; hidden behind a mask of nonchalance you’ve put up is something.

It’s always there when the two of you interact. He’s never managed to figure it out, but it’s always there.

Wrapped up in cracked porcelain, holes patched up, hiding the truth of whatever you’re feeling deep inside the strained you presented to the world.

Somethings wrong.

He’s never quite managed to figure out what.

For as long as he’s known you, even he can’t tell what it is. Not without you telling him, that is. And you wouldn’t tell him.

With whatever it is being hidden so well, you wouldn’t tell him despite the both of you being so close.

Must be hidden for a reason then.

Maybe you caused some life-changing event and that’s why you keep it from him.

“You’re staring,” you say, causing him to blink back into himself.

“And so are you,” he replies, pointing a finger in your direction.

“Because you were doing it first.”

“Maybe. Are you feelin’ alrigh’?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“��Cause you’re lookin’ right sad.”

“Might just be how I always look.”

“You callin’ me a liar?” he asks, hand raising to his chest, faking offense.

“Never said anything of the kind. I will say you’re dramatic.”

“Wow; wow. Hurt by my only friend. Would you ever go to my funeral? I think I may be dying?” that gets him a short laugh and he smiles back.

“Seriously, though. You doin’ fine?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” is your response, and he can’t help but frown at it, letting out a short breath.

Why wouldn’t you be? For a number of reasons you might not be feeling fine.

You never seem to take it into account. Or, if you do, you always draw away from the topic as swiftly as possible.

“Come on, a know I can see through that. Just tell me, hm? I won’t run off. Nothing could scare me off.”

“The big, brave, Hobie Brown.”

“Right. So you can tell me anything - anything in the world - and I won’t leave.”

You back over at him. Away from the city, the people on the floors below, and to him.

“I just… don’t feel right.”

“With what?”

“Everything?” you say. Your lips purse and you shake your head. “No. Not everything. Just… things.”

“Like?” he questions. At a lack of any reponse, he shrugs, “alrigh’, ya don’t have to say. Anything I can do?”

“Figure out what’s so… different? About me?”

“Well, you’re an extraordinary person in a world full of crap-”

You laugh and retort, “not like that!”

He smiles alongside you then threads his fingers together and considers you.

“Give me something part of the ‘things’, I need more to work with here if I’m figuring anything out.”

“I don’t like the way people refer to me.”

“Compliments?”

“No. Maybe, that’s a part of it. Like… pronouns. Gender.”

“You don’t like your pronouns.”

“Eh? They just… don’t feel right for me. I’ve tried the other set of them, on just myself because… who can I tell about this? But they’re also not right.”

“You can tell me about them. And I’ve heard when I popped round the place people using other ones. Like- what were they? They?”

You stare a him and he raises his hands.

“Hey, I have really heard of people usin’ ‘em! Don’t stare at me like that!”

He considers you for a moment, chin propped on one of his hands.

Maybe they pronouns just aren’t it for you. Or you’re not sure about what you think of them.

He frowns, head tipping this way and that as he tries to think on what to do.

Whistling a short tune for a moment, then snaps his fingers together.

“This is my friend,” he starts, directing your drifting attention to him, “they’re a little strange sometimes, but they’re my friend and good to hang with.”

You continue to stare at him for a moment that makes him think he’s done something strange and wrong that you’ll leave.

However, you don’t.

Your head tilts, eyes flicking away, as you take the time to… consider it?

You nod after a moment.

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Anyone know any good Bucky x Readers where the reader is explicitly Nonbinary? I see a lot of gender neutral/no pronouns used fics which I LOVE, and I read a lot Female!Reader because that's what majority out there, and I'm just curious if there's any out there!

Note: I'm not saying Female!Reader is what's majority out there like it's a bad thing or trying to shit on anyone (tbh most of my favorite Bucky fics are female!Reader), and I'm also not trying to say Gender neutral reader/no pronouns used are bad or anything either, I LOVE them, I'm just curious about if there's any Nonbinary!Reader out there!

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

IT'S NOT JUST HAIR!

Platonic yandere Batfam x Weird Black!Reader

It's not just hair; it's never just hair. It's history—years and years of history. It's culture—years and years of culture. It runs in your family, from woman to man, from grandma to grandpa. It's religion; it's family. It was never just hair, and you know that. You can smell the cocoa butter and olive oil being pressed between your braids, feeling the soft, smooth fingers of your mother braiding your hair down to your shoulders. It was never just hair; it was so much more, and you can't even explain it.

"What do you think, baby? Do you like it?" A small mirror was handed to you; a wide smile crossed your face. You moved your head to the side to see a small star on the side of your head. The cornrows were beautiful, with little brown and tan beads at the bottom. It was amazing. You put her face against yours; you two almost looked like siblings.

"I take that as a yes, then," she said, holding back a giggle. You nod your head profusely; a big grin spreads across her face.

"It's beautiful, Mommy! It's amazing!" You were so giddy with joy. Your mother always did your hair; you would complain and cry that it hurt, but the finished product was always worth it. She would put you between her legs, your head on her thigh, as she brushed through the tangles, and the TV would blaze with old Disney movies. You didn't care about the hair of those Disney princesses; your hair was already beautiful, it was already amazing, it was already outstanding because it was yours and it was like no one else's. Sometimes, your mom would bring you to her favorite hair salon, and the lady would let you read old magazines with all different types of hairstyles for Black women from the 80s to the 90s to the 2000s. It would make your little brain go wild with all those colors, and you would hear all the ladies' gossip; it was like your own personal haven. And when your mom was down, your mouth would drop—the woman in front of you was your mother.

"How do I look, baby?" she would say, running her hands through her fresh braids.

"They look amazing!" you yelled, giggling.

But now you're in a manor, and the thing is, no one in this whole family knows anything about your hair, and not even Alfred can help you. So you just wore an afro; you let your hair grow out and picked your hair. You were never embarrassed or insecure about your hair until now, when you saw a news post from a Wayne family page.

"Why is [Name] Wayne's hair so big? It's not fit for galas. I mean, look at it! It's inappropriate for business or the red carpet. They should really get it fixed." There was more posted after that, and the more the Daily Planet made articles about it, the bigger it became. Your hair would always be a topic of discussion, whether at home or at school. You'd tried to hide it, tried to pretend it wasn't there, but how could you? It's always there; it's your hair; it's always yours.

"It's okay, [Name], it's just hair." No, it's not; it's not just hair. The relaxer box was right in front of you, the little Black girls smiling with their straightened hair and bangs. "It's just hair," you thought, and you let it just be hair. You put the white substance in your hair, letting it burn and straighten it. You rinsed your hair and dragged that flat iron along it, the curls going straight. Your hair reached down to your shoulders now; you looked like Barbara and Stephanie and everyone else in the family. Now you looked like you were meant to be here, not just some random child of Bruce Wayne. You looked like a true Wayne, not just a [Last Name]. And people started liking your hair, and you began to like it—love it, even—getting more attention because of it. You brushed that hair out, just to see a clump of your hair... What is this? More hair started to fall out in little clumps.

"AHH!" you cried out, seeing them drop on the bathroom floor. Your eyes started tearing up; you looked up into the mirror, seeing your mother through the glass.

"Oh, baby, you had such beautiful hair. I love it so much. Why would you change it, sweetie? Why would you hide it?" she said, her dead eyes looking so sorrowful.

"It's just hair, Mommy," you whispered, tears running down your face.

"It's not just hair, baby, it's years and years of history, it's culture, it's everything." Her hand touched your scalp, stroking it.

"But the press and the..." you mumbled.

"What do they know? There's nothing like you, and you know that. Why do you care about what they say? It's not their hair; it's yours. It's always been yours! Why would you kill it, baby? It was always yours!" You wiped your face, and that was the day you went back to your old neighborhood and visited that old hair salon. You got to meet the ladies who helped raise you. Your mom was right; it was never just hair. It was community; it was culture; it was family. It was yours, and you're not a Wayne; you're an [Last Name], no matter what.

[theobservatory]

｡⁠☆TTYL XOXO｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ 

｡⁠☆Tim Drake headcanons + SMAU

｡⁠☆Cw: no pronouns, no use of y/n, mention of stalking, civilian reader

˗ˏ★First of all, he's a shit typer. He's typing while barely looking at the screen most of the time, but muscle memory allows his typing to still be mostly coherent

˗ˏ★What he chooses to abbreviate or to actually spell out is in God's hands, he definitely isn't thinking about word choice

˗ˏ★Also a lot more blunt over text. Most of the time he's in the middle of something and lowk rushing to reply (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

˗ˏ★Sends memes and tiktoks all the time. It's his love language 🩷🩷

˗ˏ★Such a "this is us" "is this us" "this reminds me of us" type of guy lol. It can be two balls of trash rolling down the street and he'll be like "me n u on a walk<33"

˗ˏ★He loves when you send stuff like that back. It makes him feel all warm inside

˗ˏ★Only says I love you over text. He's working on it, but the only person he knows that casually says ily is Dink

˗ˏ★A huge workaholic, whether we're talking about WE or vigilante activities. His work/life balance is almost as bad as Bruce's

˗ˏ★Denies his weird and obsessive habits for plausible deniability lmao

˗ˏ★Sneaks into your house with dubious consent, but he (almost) always tells you when he's done it

˗ˏ★Always up late bc of his vigilante activities so finding lovey dovey texts sent to you between like 3-6am is pretty regular

˗ˏ★Will NOT acknowledge them in person tho. That's way too vulnerable for him, and the reason you only ever get those texts when his inhibitions are lowered

˗ˏ★Accidentally cropped the last one wrong but you get the gist so it's fine (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

˗ˏ★I'm a Tim doesn't like coffee truther soooo....

˗ˏ★Constantly texting you during boring WE meetings. He doesn't even hide it either. The other rich guys there will be like "Mr.Drake-Wayne sir?? 😟☝🏾 Is everything okay you've been on your phone this whole time😕!" And he'll be like "yeah everything's fine thanks😐" without even looking up

˗ˏ★You don't know he does this fyi, you just assume he has a lot of free time since he's CEO

I did nawt think this was gonna be the first Batfam thing I posted, I have a bunch more in my drafts, but here we are lol. Come hop into my askbox, I don't bite /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\

｡⁠☆Requests open

[thisonehere]

Bi-Han accidentally Holds your hand while a Mission

A/n: Alright, raise your hand if you remember that little poll I made and the winner was the "Bi-Han accidentally Holds your hand while a Mission" fic? This was a long time coming. But I will admit, there's more than just hand holding.

Tags: One-Shot, Pre Mk1, Mk1 AU, MK1, Drabble, Bi-Han x GN reader, SFW, action, fluff mixed with agnst

C/w: Mention of blood, slight angst, violence, grief, fakeout death

"Get down!" Bi-han yells as he grabs you by the collar and takes you down to take cover form the incoming fire balls.

You were on one mission to infiltrate a strange temple and procure some strange and ancient relic. And things were going....poorly.

The good news? You acquired it.

Bad news? It proved a struggle to escape.

The guardians have proven adamant about keeping their things secure. They possessed elemental abilities like your Grandmaster. You've never seen anything like it, you bypassed people who could shake the earth itself and others who could use the very winds to rip metal in half. But now your exit was blocked off by a group of pyromancers.

You followed Bi-Han as he darted behind a giant column big enough for both of you to hide.

"What are we going to do?" You say as you cling to the clung to the cool rock. You try your hardest not to scream, you don't want Bi-Han to see how scared you are. He chose you to come with him in this mission. Out of all other Lin Kuei, Sektor, Cyrax, Tomas, yet he chose you. One of the last things you want to do is disappoint Bi-Han by being scared.

Bi-han merely grunted and muttered something under his breath. You felt a fire ball slam against the column shaking it, almost form a squeal of terror out of you. A chilling light forms out of Bi-Han's hands. He threw an ice ball at them and then quickly ducked back behind the clouds as a fire ball flashed by nearly grazing his face.

His eyes darted from this way and that. Studying the architecture, looking for anyway out. The pryomancers shook the column with a barrage of fire balls, it wouldn't be longer before they shattered through it. He heard footsteps from approaching, more of these elementals were coming.

"When I say go, you run to that hallway!" He pointed to the nearby hallway from across the room, to get to it you'd have to. You nod frantically He waved his hands this way and that, the blue light about his hands grew bright and brighter as he charged up.

When it gets as bright as possible, he slams his hands on the ground, immediately a giant wall of ice springs out of the ground long enough to reach the hallway. It would give you enough cover from the pryomancers, but you don't know for how long "Go!" You waste no time. You sprint as fast as your legs can go. Already, the fire elementals began to assault the ice wall. It begins to crack and shudder under strikes of fire balls.

From across the other side of the room the roar of more elementals got Bi-Han's attention. Hydrokinetics, geokinetics, and more pryomancers race towards him. He throws another ice balls to the ground, creating another ice wall, blocking the front of him.

Your heart beats so hard you can feel it in your throat as you get close to the hallway. Suddenly, you hear the crashing of the ice wall that protected you from the pyromancers shattering.

You finally scream, covering your head as you avoid ice shards as they fly about the room. Bi-han isn't so lucky to avoid them. "GAH!" you look back as you hear Bi-Han scream.

He held the side of his neck, the side of his neck became quickly soaked in blood. "Don't worry about me, Go!" He growls.

You make it to the hallway, Bi-Han races to a staircase and runs up it, you are close behind him as the staircase leads you both to another floor. Yo your left are a row of doors and to your right is a balcony. You look over the balcony and see the whole army of Elementals spilling into the hallway. They see you; they race to the stairway to go after you.

Bi-han kicked in one of the doors, "In here!" He yells as he yanks you and forcefully guides you into the room. Yet another ice wall he creates to block the doorway.

It wouldn't hold long.

But it's a chance to catch your breath so you are thankful. It's a small room. There was a shrine filled with offerings and smalls stayed to signify some Elder God. No doubt this is a place for private worship or perhaps to perform rituals. Your eyes travelled around the room, noting everything, just in the hopes of distracting yourself for a second, maybe find a way to escape.

Your eyes eventually fell to your Grandmaster, his neck to be precise. Blood stained the side of his neck. The cut looked pretty nasty, almost fatal. Maybe adrenaline was the thing keeping him going. "Grandmaster-" you tried to take a step closer to get a closer look at the wound. "It's nothing." He is quick to dismiss you, but you could see it in his eyes. He was in pain.

Bi-han, meanwhile was at work breaking open a small window. Ice gathered around his hand as he grabs the sash that invaded the glass and rips it clean off.

He looks out the window to see the surroundings. The temple sits on a snowy mountaintop, below clouds gather, it obscures the earth beneath. On the side of the building, it is composed of very intricate designs. Most importantly there's a ledge, just big enough so that one person can climb on it... barely He looks at you and then back at the ledge. It's dangerous. Too Dangerous, you could get hurt. He didn't ask you to come in this mission with him because he wanted you to be in danger, he wanted to come with him because... nevermind.

"Y/n..." He calls to you. You stop pacing at the sound of his voice, you look at the now opened; you realize what he wants. You merely nod as you run to the window and push yourself through the small frame. What's the use of hesitating? If stay here, you die.

You step out of the window. The ledge is small, old. Is it gonna break if I step on it? You cautiously trail the ledge inch by inch. You made the mistake of looking over your shoulder. The dark clouds that hugged the mountain were dark, you saw nothing. Somehow that made you even more terrified. "Here." Bi-han held out the bag that held relic for you to take it. "Take this and get to the designated check point. The portal will open and take you back to the Artika."

You reach out and take the bag, you and Bi-Han's graise against each other for a second. You look into your Grandmaster's eyes and you see a mournful look in them. "Grandmaster, you'll be right behind me...right?"

Bi-han just stares at you, his frown grows and the mournful look in his eyes worsens. "Right?" You say again. Bi-han answers your question by going back inside the room and freezing the window, making sure you can't go back inside and no one can get out. "Bi-han!!" You gasp horrified. At that second you hear the wall of ice Bi-Han created to block the door explode with a shatter. "No!" You cry as you take a knife out of your belt and begin to chip away at the ice that coated the door, gripping the window frame for support.

You could hear a violent struggle happening inside the room, explosion as no doubt ice balls and fire balls were thrown, yelling, shouting, worse, Bi-Han crying out in pain. And then worse... silence.

You stopped chipping as you let the silence sink in. The blood in your veins run as you feel your stomach twist into knots. "no..." You say again, this time lower.

°°°

You felt the snow crunch beneath your feet as you ran down the white plains of the mountain, looking back over your shoulder in case you had any pursuers. The tracks you and Bi-Han had left when you first arrived here were now buried under a new blanket of snow. To say your heart was beating against your chest would be an understatement to what your whole body was going through. Your brain pulsed and thumped against your skull, your throat was dry, your feet ached. But you kept running. You had to make it to the portal, you had to get this relic back to the Artika...for Bi-Han.

You make your way deeper and deeper down the mountain, find your way into a Forrest of thin, snow covered trees. You take the moment to catch your breath, you fall against the foot of a frozen willow tree. Immediately you are reduced to a state of panting in heavy breaths. Your breathing was frantic, almost hysterical. "Bi-han..." You whimpering as you clutch the bag.

Your Grandmaster...this is horrible.

Despite the cold around you, you felt your eyes run hot. Your breathing is reduced to a mess of sharp inhales as you sight soon became blurry from tears, pain, and exhaustion. In the distance, you can make out the vague image of the portal, ready to open if it senses your presence.

You can go, you enter it and leave this hell and go back to the safety of the Artika...without Bi-Han, your Grandmaster. By the Elder Gods, you felt like such a failure. He asked you to come with him, and all you did was be a useless lump of dead weight. Had it not been for you, Bi-Han would've no doubt been successful and would already be back in the Artika.

This is all my fault, you think as your head falls into your knees. The tears are hot and fresh as you begin to try and think of what to do next. You'll have to report back to Sektor and Kuai Liang. You'll have to tell them the Grandmaster has fallen. That you failed him to keep the Grandmaster safe.

This is all my fault, you think, You think of going back, maybe try and kill them, at least of them, to avenge Bi-Han. But then again you'd fail. You clutched the bag tightly. By the Elders, you felt so lost. What do I do, you wonder as you lean back against the willow tree.

...

"What are you doing?!"

After moments of silence you, a stern and familiar voice immediately breaks you out of your grief.

Through your blurred vision, you saw you Grandmaster's face, worn and beaten with cuts. But that harsh frown still stayed in its place on his face. His eyes dart all around you, as if he had walked in on you doing some odd thing that caused him pause to process. "Grandmaster?" You gasp with a shaky breath. "Y-You're alive!"

"Of course I'm alive!" He hisses. "Did you truly think I was so incompetent?" You're too dumbfounded to speak. Bi-Han extends his hand out to you, offering to help. Something he didn't usually do, so you took his hand and got your feet.

"Uh, here." You say as quickly hand him the bag. Bi-Han grunts slightly as he takes, perhaps his way of saying thank you.

For a moment, Bi-Han looks at your face, he notices the tears on your face. At that second he realizes, you were crying...for him. Normally he would berate a Lin Kuai if he so ever sees any type of weakness such as crying. But he just stares at you, unsure how to even respond.

"We should get back to Artika, you'll need to get that checked." You say, eyeing the dried blood around his neck. Bi-Han silently nods his head in agreeance.

The walk to the portal is silent. Only the doct crunch of the snow beneath your feet filled your ears to combat the silence. Finally, you made it to the portal. It whirled alive, flashing yellow and red flames exploded as it opened.

"Grandmaster..." You finally find the courage to speak, Bi-Han slightly tilts his head towards you. "If you do not mind me asking, what is in the artifact?" Bi-Han looked down at the bag, clutching it tightly. "Something precious to our clan, something of my father's, that somehow fell into those elemental hands."

You nodded your head in understanding. By now the portal has completely opened, a circling abyss of darkness and fire now stood before you both. "Um, Grandmaster." You say again, this time more a tone a bit more shy.

"You can let go of my hand."

Bi-Han's eyes widen as he looks down and sees his hands still interlaced with yours. "I-" he started, he went silent as he tried to process this. His hands warm in you, he can't seem to think of a single thing to do. His eyes goes from you to your hands. Apparently when he helped you up, he hadn't let go of your hand all the way to here. How could he not notice?

Despite the tears you were shedding not too long ago, you found yourself fighting a higgle as you watched your own Grandmaster get frazzled.

He finally gets a thought in his head and rips his hand free from yours. "You will tell no one of this. Understood?" You straightened up, tried to act serious. But seeing the Grandmaster's face red hot with blush made it almost impossible to fight a smile.

"Here." He says as he shoves the bag into your arms. He keeps his face turned from you now, catching on to you noticing his red face. "I need you to keep this. I want you and only you to have this...until further notice." Bi-Han let's you see his face one more time before entering the portal. He gives a look, a strange look, like there was extra meaning behind his words

But before you say anything l, your Grandmaster quickly ducks into the portal.

...

Not much happened after coming home from the Mission. Bi-Han got himself treated, apparently the adrenaline was the main thing keeping him going. He immediately felt the pain when he got settled down. The healers said that he would be bed ridden for the next few weeks. In the meantime, his brother Kuai will act as the temporary Grandmaster.

You found your way up to your room in the sacred halls of the Lin Kuei Base and collapsed onto your bed. The frozen mountain tops were cold, but somehow the Artika was even colder. You wrapped yourself up the warm covers as you try to settle down. You yourself felt the physical strain of the mission took its toll on your. You felt tiredness rush throughout your entire body. For a few hours moments you just laid there as you tried to regain your strength.

You felt the weight of the bag in your hands. Weakly you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. You wondered what could possibly be in this bag, what could possibly be in it that would cause your Grandmaster to nearly die for. It's just an old, brown burlap sack. You felt something slightly heavy in it. You stared at the intently, as if you were expecting it to do something extraordinary.

After a few moments it did nothing, so you decide to open it. You felt a nervous chill rush through your body as you slowly pulled the bag open. A pang of fear and excitement courses through you as carefully open the bag and reach inside.

A red gem is what awaits you inside. Nothing that big or shiny, just a red gem, chipped away at until it was in the shape of a heart.

You try not to be as disappointed as look at it. This is it? This is what Bi-Han almost died for?

You look inside the bag again, and you found two notes inside. You pull them out, more careful than the gem. The paper the notes were on looked very old, like they were written decades ago. The first one looked the oldest. You read it carefully, it was a love leader. Something of my father's, Bi-Han's words ring through your head. In an instant, you realize this is a love letter from Bi-Han's father to his mother.

You read through the words over and over again. Bi-Han's father praises his mother's radiance. He tells her how much he loves her, how much he adores her. He notes every amazing thing about her, her raven black he, her shimmering eyes, her strength, everything. You yourself felt flattered with how love filled this letter was.

You look at the second letter, it looks less old. Like it was made 1 or 2 decades later.

My eldest Son, Bi-Han

One day you'll find someone, someone that you know you can't live without. That you adore without thought or reason.

Give this to them, let this speak for your heart.

For a few moments, look like an idiot as you fail to process what this letter meant.

I need you to keep this. I want you and only you to have this. Bi-Han words range through your ear. That's when it all clicked. You drop the gem and letter in your lap as you freeze, your eyes widen Bi-Han gave you a previous gem that belonged to his father, which was a gift of love to his mother. You felt the phantom warmth of his hand as this came to you.

Your grandmaster wants you to have it now. Bi-Han, the cold-hearted Sub Zero...likes you.

[skyeistrying]

Hihi!! I just read your Sevika HCs and I absolutely love them!! I wanted to know if you could (please) write HCs for Sevika and Vi after an argument with their partner? :) Whether it’s an argument the reader started or they started can be completely up to you! Or you could even do both scenarios if you prefer! 💕

Thank you and I hope you have a nice day/evening 💖

🖤Sevika and Vi after an Argument🖤

men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni men dni

🤎Sevika🤎

I don’t think arguments would be common in a relationship with Sevika.

When she locks into a serious relationship, she means serious. She covers all the important bases for a healthy relationship; communication, loyalty, respect, trust, and so much more.

Covering these bases, especially communication, helps to avoid frequent arguments.

It won’t completely cut out the occasional argument though.

When you two do argue, it’s almost always about bigger things. For example, her working so much and not taking much time for herself, or maybe her drinking and smoking.

Post-argument time usually has as “how can we avoid this in the future” moment where you guys have a heart to heart about whatever started the argument.

If you start an argument:

Be prepared to apologize first. And only apologize if you’re really sorry.

You should always finish what you start, after all.

Your apology may be met with an affectionate an eye roll and a huff.

She never stays mad at you for long.

Once you apologize she usually makes space for you wherever she’s sitting and wraps her arm around just to let you know it’s really okay.

If you’re just apologizing because you feel like you need to, don’t. She can see right through you if you’re bullshitting her.

If you’re stubborn like her, sometimes apologizing can genuinely be difficult. She gets that. Which is why her patience with you is a blessing.

Again, when you’re ready to apologize , she’s affectionate and accepts it.

If she starts an argument:

This woman is stubborn. For her to apologize, it just doesn’t feel right.

She’s only ever been truly sorry a few times in her life. In the Undercity, living a life like hers, she never had time to be sorry.

Being sorry gets you hurt. It gets you killed.

But…

It’s obviously different when it’s you. You aren’t a big bad wolf waiting around the corner. You’re her partner, her ride-or-die.

In the heat of the moment, what she said felt right. It felt like something you needed to hear.

The thought of you feeling hurt by something she said just eats her alive.

She comes to you first.

It isn’t anything crazy, usually just a simple, gruff “I’m sorry.”

She’s awkward and stiff about it, but completely genuine.

Asks what she can do to make it up to you, if anything.

❤️Vi❤️

Violet runs hot. She isn’t a loose cannon but someday’s it can be hard trying to keep all of her emotions under wraps.

This has definitely lead to arguments over petty things like dishes in the sink or eating the last of her favorite snack.

It’s also lead to arguments about very serious things. Her pit fighting, drinking, and her occasional impulsivity.

Arguments always hit her hard, even the petty ones. No matter how old she gets, arguments always make her feel like a little kid, just waiting for the ball to drop. The ball being losing you.

That feeling of dread, like this argument could be the last, if that makes sense.

Physical touch is usually present in the make up process after an argument. It helps ground her.

The good news is, the two of you always make up very quickly.

If you start an argument:

If the argument is a petty spat about dishes or snacks, she still apologizes first, albeit rather begrudgingly.

This links back to her feeling like this argument could be the last. What if she never hears “You promised you’d take out the trash this week” ever again?

You, however, shut that down. “It’s my fault, I should be the one apologizing.” You tell her.

These arguments are extremely easy to come back from because you two are always on the same level. Two halves to make a whole, equals

There isn’t a point in staying hung up on petty nonsense for long.

If you start a big argument, you apologize first.

She distances herself and you have to go to her.

You’ll usually find her someplace where she shouldn’t be, like a bar. Or, you might find her someplace safe, like with Loris or another friend she feels comfortable around.

Not only should you apologize, but it would also be a good chance to thoroughly explain why you’re upset or might think something is a bad idea.

Once you do that, she’ll open her arms up to you and usually things can be resolved somewhat easily after that.

If she starts an argument:

Again, she apologizes first.

If she starts an argument, big or small, the dread of possibly losing you over this hits her like bricks.

For smaller arguments, she approaches you casually. If you let her, she’ll wrap her arms around you. An apology hug, if you will.

Says, “I’m sorry, baby,” in the softest voice she can muster.

These smaller arguments are always easier to come back from just because she’s so sweet. How can you ever stay upset when she’s such a sweetie?

Big arguments are something else though.

After she’s said whatever it is that she’s said, the weight of it all is suffocating.

If she said something really stupid and hurtful in the heat of the moment, she might need some space for a bit. Things like that take her back to that day.

But she’ll come to you when she’s ready.

May or may not have a little gift for you for extra measure. Usually it’s something simple like your favorite candy bar.

She tells you she’s sorry and explains why she got so worked up. Usually this leads to a steady and warm embrace and you let her know it’s okay.

hello!!! thank you for the request ♥️ please let me know if you enjoyed it or not. i had so much fun writing these. i kind of got carried away with vi’s headcanons 🙈. . i was purposefully vague about what started the argument so you can sort of imagine your own scenario for why the argument started!🎠

ask box is open for multiple fandoms and nearly every arcane character! check my pinned for rules, fandoms, and characters. i write headcanons, reactions, drabbles, and more!

[deunmiu-dessie]

royalty!reader who's on the run from their tyrannical uncle who is hell-bent on taking the throne for himself. royalty!reader who's the sole surviving royal descendant. royalty!reader who finds themselves without shelter as the unforgiving winter of the north looms closer. royalty!reader who's stranded in a big, dark cavern, struggling to stay warm. royalty!reader who delves deeper into the cave, unknowingly awakening a sinister creature lurking in the shadows. dragon!lover who's large in all aspects. dragon!lover who can't help but tease the royal by threatening to eat them. dragon!lover who sleeps atop mountains of gold. dragon!lover who always runs hot. dragon!lover who blows smoke into your face constantly. dragon!lover whose voice literally rattles your bones. dragon!lover who begrudgingly allows you to stay in the cave. dragon!lover who figures, he'll put your body to good use during the winter as payment. ˙ᵕ˙

"you do not scare me, dragon."

with a quivering exhale, you feel the dragon's firm touch from behind, his warm lips caressing the sensitive skin of your neck. despite the cold draft in the spacious den, caspian burns with the intense, thick, molten fire that swells within his chest.

the aroma of smoke and the biting winter blizzard that howls just a few steps away permeate his scaly skin, a tantalizing combination that sets you aflame, igniting a fiery surge of warmth in the depths of your belly; leaving you intoxicated and dizzy under his searing touch. your nerves tighten like a coiled spring as his lips tantalizingly brush against the tender curve of your ear. "you should be scared."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[meiyokbf]

headcannon | megan x transmasc!reader

author’s note: so so so excited to finally be writing for the katz! lemme know what you guys think of this, and please excuse my poor grammar, lol.

warnings: pre transition!reader at the beginning, transmasc!reader, obvi. it kinda goes for both non-binary readers and transmen, too. hrt therapy & top surgery mentioned. nsfw at the end, MDNI.

🏷️: katseye x reader, megan x reader, katseye smut, katseye, megan skiendiel, transmasc reader.

megan had absolutely NO CLUE that you were having these kinds of thoughts about your gender identity.

which is why she got a little bit surprised when you came out to her as transmasc.

poor girl couldn’t get the clues. 😭

but needless to say she was the most supportive girlfriend ever since the very first day.

“look at me, my love���” she held your hands while you looked at her, a couple of tears streaming down your face as you let yourself feel vulnerable in front of her. “tell me your name, hm?”

“(y/n)…” she smiled like a child when she heard it for the first time, kissing your cheek right on top of one of the tears.

“your name is so beautiful, baby.”

you KNOW that she would act like the proudest girlfriend ever.

even though she knew little to nothing about transitioning.

but even though she struggled to understand a few things at first, she never deadnamed you; or used the incorrect pronouns with you.

and god helped the poor soul who did it in front of her.

megan driving you to your first hrt consult!!!!

and of course, getting a speed ticket because of how fast she wanted to get there.

megan writing the day down so she can remember the first day you got your very first t-shot.

and girlie would 100% make you do the “hi my name is (y/n) and i’m one day on testosterone” trend.

megan would absolutely be thrilled when you told her you wanted to tell the katz.

pookie would have to hold her tongue because she was so excited about it that she wanted to share with her sisters asap!!!

and obviously she held your hand tight when you told the girls, even though you knew it’d be alright.

“guys i have a BOYFRIEND NOW!!”

she LOVES LOVES LOVES calling you “my boy” by the way.

unironically changed your contract to “my favorite guy in the world.”

was THRILLED when the T changes started to show.

and pookie would be like “baby look at your BEARD.”

would definitely learn how to help you when you were feeling extra dysphoric.

and would put an alarm on her phone every time you wore a binder to remind both of you that you shouldn’t wear it for more than 6 hours.

obviously would take you to the courthouse to finally kill off your dead name.

and i just KNOW girlie would throw a death-themed party afterwards with a tombstone cake.

megan would take you (and all of the katz) to the trans pride parade in los angeles.

she wouldn’t care if fans noticed her and asked her for pictures, she just wanted to be with you.

and she wanted you to know that she loved you no matter what.

pookie would remind you every day that she was proud of you for doing this. 🥺

megan would leave post-its (exclusively with the colors of your flag) on your kitchen before going to practice.

“don’t forget to eat lunch today, sweet boy!”

“have a nice day, my prince!”

but every now and then she would write the most awful jokes.

“do you speak english or do i need to TRANS-late?”

getting so so so so excited when you finally got cleared for top surgery!!!

almost DEMANDING hybe to give her some weeks off so she could take care of you 24/7.

which, obviously, she did.

girlie wouldn’t let you do ANYTHING when you were post-op.

“megan you don’t have to come to the bathroom with me…”

“but what if you need help to take a shit”

once you got the bandages and the drains off, and you finally got to see your new chest, megan cried more than you did.

and she obviously took 300 pictures so she could look at your chest whenever she wanted.

once you got comfortable with it, she showed them to the katz too.

“it must suck that i have the hottest boyfriend ever and you guys don’t.”

overall she would be the sweetest person in the world ugh.

now here’s where it gets funny.

megan was SO scared to have sex with you at first.

not because she didn’t know what to do, because she surely did.

but she was terrified of crossing a boundary with you or doing something that triggered your dysphoria.

so you guys had a long, long conversation about this before she could actually relax and feel a little less anxious about fucking you.

babes, let’s face it. that girl is a bottom.

even when she tops, she subs.

she just wants to make you feel good all of the time.

megan would absolutely take advantage of the fact that you had significant bottom growth.

and girlie would put her legs on your lap while you were talking to the katz or doing something that required your attention, just so she could rub her legs on your dick as hard as she could.

would absolutely make you buy the biggest packer available too.

“you know how well i can take you, baby.”

is a sucker for missionary.

it’s when she can feel you the most.

and pookie LOVES dirty talking, too.

with a tiny bit of a daddy kink.

“fuck, daddy… your dick is filling me up so nice, ugh…”

and obviously *cough cough* breeding kink *cough*.

everything that was slightly gender-affirming to you turned the shit out of her.

she wanted you to know that right now, she needed her man to fuck the life out of her.

and also. blowjobs. all. the. time.

she would DIE whenever you came in her mouth.

the feeling of having your t-dick pulsing between her lips made her feel insane.

and every time you’d put her hair up in a ponytail she would melt.

obviously would top you the only way she knows how.

would have her way with you while looking the puppiest she’s ever looked.

“is this good enough, my boy?” “am i being good?”

she wants you to know you’re in charge here.

and she just wants to be good for you.

[0o-junebug-o0]

MORE AUTISTIC FEM! READER X SPENCER PLEASEEEE maybe her getting overstimulated at a bar with the team? or at the store? i neeeeddddd more of them!!

Bad Time at the Bar

here you go!! tho it's gn!reader bc gender didn't really come up, hope you don't mind!

genre: hurt/comfort

cw: autistic!reader, explicitly autistic spencer reid, overstimulation (and not the fun kind), meltdown (which reads a lot like a panic attack bc that's what my meltdowns are like), kinda self harm (hitting) and chewing lip until bleeding), internalized ableism and autism viewed in a negative light (spencer talks to reader about it and provides reassurance), completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all)

wordcount: 1.3k

There are too many people. The smell of sweat and alcohol hangs heavy in the air and burns your nose. The room is saturated with noise. Drinks clinking on tables, music playing, people talking. Your head pounds and you regret not bringing your headphones. You thought you’d be fine. You’ve never needed them when at the bar with the team in the past. Someone bumps into you and the unexpected contact causes panic to build in your chest. There’s not enough room. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, gripping your bottle of beer so hard you’re surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. You chew on the inside of your lip until you taste blood, but it does nothing to soothe your quickly growing panic. 

You look around frantically, your eyes so wide you feel like they’re about to burst from your skull. Finally, you spot Spencer. He’s gathered around a table with Derek and some strangers, talking animatedly about something. You stagger forward, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try to reach him. People slam into your shoulders and chest and you can feel the burn of tears welling in your eyes. The tears cause the already painfully bright lights to reflect directly into your eyes so you blink hard and wipe them away.

Your whole body shakes and you desperately want to raise your hands to cover your ears but you’re still holding your drink and there’s not enough room and it’s embarrassing. You can feel your heart pounding throughout your body and your limbs feel like they’re going numb.

By some miracle, you manage to reach Spencer. You stumble toward him, reaching out and clinging to his arm. He startles and turns to look at you. Immediately, concern rushes over his face and he takes your drink and passes it to Derek before gently grabbing your hand. As quickly as he’s able, Spencer guides you through the bar toward an exit, using his own body to force people aside and away from you despite his dislike of germs. 

He holds open the back door and you practically fall into the alley. The door closes and immediately the smells, lights, and sounds lessen. You sink to the ground, pressing your hands against your ears now that there is no one but Spencer to see you. You curl your knees to your chest and stare with wide eyes at the ground. Each breath you take is a rasping, heaving mess, and a distressed groan forces itself from your throat with each exhale.

You feel like you’re dying.

Spencer crouches down beside you, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall, and you immediately press your body into his. You curl your legs beneath you and lean awkwardly in a way that hunches your back and presses your forehead into his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can feel the way your tears soak his pants.

Spencer drapes himself over your back, using his body to provide the grounding pressure he’s learned you need in times like this. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes tightly. You let out a broken sob and slam the heel of your palm into the side of your head.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer mutters, gently taking a hold of your wrist. 

You shake your head. You need to hit. You need it. And there’s no way to redirect.

Spencer releases your hand and you move it to thump it against your chest.

“Okay, that’s better than your head,” Spencer says to himself. He squeezes your body in intervals and the varying pressure helps ground you. Slowly your sobs lessen to sniffles and hiccuping breaths and the hand hitting your chest falls limp against Spencer’s leg. 

“You’re okay,” Spencer mutters, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “You’re going to be alright.”

You sniffle and move your head to press it against his stomach. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. You can hear the love and care in his voice. “You feeling a bit better?”

You hum and nod against him.

“Do you need some more time, or do you want to go home?” he asks, keeping his body pressing against yours in case you still need the pressure.

You tap his leg twice.

“Home?” he asks sweetly.

You nod, and Spencer sits back. The sudden lack of pressure makes your body feel weird, and part of you wants to drag him back down. You decide against it, knowing that you’ll get used to it quickly and that Spencer will hold you again when you get home.

Spencer carefully guides you to your feet and, keeping an arm wrapped around you, leads you out of the alley and down the street to his car. He opens the passenger side door and you climb in. 

“Will you be okay for a minute or two while I run back in to grab our stuff from JJ?” Spencer asks.

You nod and do your best to smile at him. Spencer smiles back and closes the door. He locks the car and jogs back toward the bar. 

You sigh and wrap your hands around your stomach. Guilt and embarrassment coil painfully in your chest. You can’t believe that just happened. You should have been fine. Why this time? Why the one time you didn’t bring your headphones? You groan in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? And Spencer. You feel so guilty for dragging him away from the rest of the team and the fun he was having to deal with you.

There’s a soft click as the doors unlock, then Spencer opens the driver's side door and climbs inside. You keep your head bowed as he closes the door and reaches into the backseat to set down both of your stuff. 

You see him still out of the corner of your eye, and he rests his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks.

“I–I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For this! For everything!” you cry. “You–you were having fun and I ruined it! You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”

Spencer says your name softly and, when you don’t respond, he whispers, “Please look at me.”

You slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t care what it is I’m doing, if you’re upset or need help, I will always drop everything to be there for you. And it’s not ‘dealing with you’, baby. We’re partners. It’s our job to take care of each other. You can’t control when you get overstimulated or have a meltdown.”

“But I could have!” you insist. “I didn’t bring my headphones because I thought I’d be fine like every other time and then I wasn’t! It’s my fault I freaked out like this. I should be able to handle it.”

“There is no ‘should’. Having a meltdown will never be your fault. And I know you know that, because you would never think these things about me when I have a meltdown.”

Your jaw drops. “Of-of course not!” you stutter, taken aback.

“Then why is it different for you?” Spencer asks. “Why is your autism bad but mine isn’t?”

You open and close your mouth for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Spencer doesn’t speak.

“I–I don’t know,” you eventually admit.

“It’s because it isn’t bad. I understand why you might feel that way or why you feel guilty about making me deal with it, as you say. But I help you because I love you and care about you and because I want to. Just like you help me because you love and care about me and want you. And I will always choose to help you and be there for you, no matter what, no matter how ashamed you may feel. Okay?”

Your chin wobbles, and soon tears are streaming down your face as you let out a wailing sob.

Spencer leans over the armrest to hug you, neither of you caring about the awkward angle. 

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. “C-can we go home, now?” you ask weakly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says kindly.

“And then cuddles?”

“Always.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

@daryls-crossbow16 @roboticsuccubus83 @dorcas4meadowes @spenciesslut @pleasantwitchgarden @angeliccss @moonysreid @dead-universe @starlighta @eliscannotdance @written-in-the-stars @khxna

[luxthestrange]

BNHA Incorrect quotes#10 Question their sexualities-

Imagen Being Izuku's Hot Older Nonbinary Sibling...a total opposite of your mother Inko and Izuku in terms of ...not being crybabies- far more confident and ...and blunt, Overall not many know of you given you studied abroad and can be a tad cynical of the quirks and hero toxic society views...but you love your brother none the less-

NB!Y/n*Smilling coming to UA with a lunch box and several gifts from where you stayed abroad, hugging Izuku*Oh Zuzu~Its so nice to see you in the flesh and not on-camera-...WOAH you got SWOL!?

Class 1A*In shock seeing this...INCREDIBLY hot older person hugs and lifts Izuku and spins him around*

Izuku*Smilling and hugging you back*O-Ok im getting dizzy-Oh I should introduce you to my friends!

Happily, Izuku starts to name each of his classmates who wave and smile as you look at them with an endeared look at Izuku and them

NB!Y/n: Nice to meet'cha~Oh you goobers must be exhausted from class Im sure Zuzu would mind sharing what I brought!~Come no dig in-GASP is that lil katsy~Oh look at you still so cute~

Kat*Grumbling as you exchange a hug with him, SLIGHT blush*...

You put some plastic plates while Class 1A looks at you...

Denki: W-woah dude your sibling is an absolute smokeshow...AND I SAY THIS WITH THE UTMOST RESPECT-*is blushing hard*ARE THEY A MOVIE STAR?

Class 1A*Also blushing hard and nodding at Denki's comment*

NB!Y/n*Heard him and smirks combing your hair elegantly...and almost shinning*A movie star?~

Izuku & Katsu*Both Grimancing*...Dont encourage them-

...The Gay Awakening Live-who should lil old sib here be involved with romantically...

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hey! i heard you’re requests were open so i wanted to ask if you could do a hurt/comfort regina x non-binary reader where people are being tr@nsphobic to them and bullying them and regina stand up for them and comforts them:)

Under the Protection of Regina George

Reminder‼️ You do not have to read this fic, you're more than welcomed to skip it as it does contain descriptions of bullying towards reader for being non-binary. This was requested by anon, nobody has to read it if they don't wish to. Proceed at your own risk.

|| Regina George x non-binary reader

(in an established relationship)

|| Warnings: is a hurt/comfort, bullying, tr@ansphobic comments, Regina comforts reader, light swearing

|| Summary: Reader's bullied by jocks who force them into the janitor closet, Regina comes to reader's rescue and comforts them at the end.

Requests open!

~~~

Ever since you came out as nonbinary, it's like you planted the target on your back yourself. The bullying increased. It didn't matter if Regina George was your girlfriend; NorthShore High was ruthless. You haven't brought any of it up to Regina, you learned to deal with it yourself. Not wanting anyone to face Regina's wrath on your behalf. No matter how mean they were to you.

At the end of third period bell, you collected your things and made your way out of the English classroom. Heading for the cafeteria to meet up with your girlfriend and the rest of the plastics.

As you turned out of the class and started heading for the locker (which happened to be in the same hall), you were suddenly picked up. Arms locked by two jocks who held you just above the ground, when your feet kicked in protest they just barely missed the floor underneath you. The jocks laughed and looked at each other with malicious smirks. They carried you off to the janitor closet, your protests heard throughout the hall but people just laughed and recorded. No one bothered to help you. One jock opened the closet while the other shoved you inside, closing the door.

"Should've stayed in the closet, heshe!" One shouted while the other laughed and gave him a fist bump. Right as they were about to push a table in front of the door, someone cleared their throat and got their attention.

Moments before...

Regina, Karen, Gretchen and Cady all sat at their usual spot in the cafeteria. Waiting for you to join them. Regina had already gotten her cheese fries at this point and was taking a bite from them as she glanced at her phone, checking for any texts from you. She frowned slightly when she didn't see anything. Usually you always messaged her right after your class; to let her know you were on your way. If you would be late, you made sure she knew.

"Hey, have you guys seen Y/N?" Regina asked, she couldn't help feeling like something was wrong.

"Like today or ever?" Karen replied, staring at Regina with her usual wide eyes.

The blonde narrowed her eyes at Karen in an 'are you serious?' kinda way.

"Um, no. I saw them in math this morning but not since then." Cady told Regina, you and Cady share math together as a homeroom. Regina bit her bottom lip slightly as she looked at her phone again.

"Oh my God." Gretchen suddenly gasps, she's been looking at Instagram. Her feed full of the videos people have been recording of Y/N and the jocks situation. She looks up at Regina, "Regina, look!" She showed Regina her phone.

Immediately, the blonde's blood boiled. She was pissed. The nerve these people had...

She got up quickly, the entire cafeteria seemed to freeze in place as she stormed out of it and into the halls. People moving to escape her gaze. Nobody wanted to get in Regina's way. It's like the whole school could feel she was pissed.

In moments, she reached the janitors closet. Right after the jock had made that 'heshe' comment and him and his buddy were pushing the table in front of the door. Regina folded her arms and cleared her throat, giving them her signature glare. They froze.

"R-Regina, how's your day going?" The one tried playing it off, leaning against the table in a casual way. The other nodded in a poor attempt at going along. When you heard them mention Regina, you felt a sense of relief wash over you and tried opening the door. Considering it was blocked by the table, it opened only slightly just to be closed again. You let out a frustrated groan and banged your fist on the door.

"Let me out, jackasses!" You shouted, they tensed. Regina's glare sharpened.

"Let. them. out." She emphasized each word through her teeth as she spoke, sending shivers down the jocks spine. They immediately sprung into action. Both pushing the table out of the way so you could open the door. You stepped out and took a breath, you hated the janitor closet; any small space for that matter.

"If I ever catch you so much as looking at them...!" Regina didn't even need to finish her threat. The jocks got the message loud and clear and nodded their heads quickly before scurrying off, Regina gripped your wrist and pulled you away to an empty classroom.

Now alone, Regina's demeanour softened and she sighs. Looking you up and down for a moment before her eyes meet yours, hand moving to rest just under your jawline. Instinctively your head moves into her hand slightly.

"How long?" Regina asks, eyes never leaving yours. Even when you move your gaze from hers.

You hesitated with your answer, which told Regina everything she needed to know. Too long. She pulls you into a hug and you hug back, the two of you staying in silence for a moment; enjoying the comfort of each other.

Regina spoke up again.

"If anyone does anything, I'm being so fucking serious right now Y/N, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way... tell me. Promise you'll tell me." She makes you look at her, keeping her arms firmly wrapped around your waist in a protective manner. You knew she wouldn't let you say no, Regina didn't care if you didn't want other people getting in trouble. She was going to do what she had to to protect you.

"Okay..." You replied, your voice quiet. Not quiet as in a whisper, but somewhere between. You could feel as she relaxed against you.

~~~

End note: I love all of you 🫶 non-binary people are ♾️% valid, I myself use they/them pronouns! Everyone is welcome on my page 💞

With that said, I hope you enjoyed the fic! Any feedback is welcomed.

[fanthiccs]

🕯️ Drabble: “You Just Can’t Help Yourself”

(Nanami x Reader | Thigh Riding | Praise + Chastising Kink | Heatwave | NSFT | 18+)

The fan does nothing.

The apartment is heavy with heat—thick, slow, like honey. Your shirt’s clinging to your back. Nanami’s collar is undone, hair damp at the temples. He looks like patience incarnate. You look like sin.

“Kento,” you breathe. Your voice is wrecked from whining. “Please.”

“You’re going to ruin these pants,” he murmurs, voice low, more observation than warning. One brow lifts as he watches you grind down on the thick line of his thigh. “Again.”

You almost cry. “I can’t—I just need—”

“You always need.” His tone is soft, but edged in something firm. Not cruel. Not mocking. Just truthful. “You can’t go five minutes without trying to get yourself off on me lately, can you?”

You shake your head. Shame prickles at your skin—but it’s swallowed whole by the heat and the slow roll of pleasure between your legs. His thigh is flexed, perfect. Your hips chase friction like it’s the only thing left that makes sense.

He exhales through his nose and lets his hand settle on your waist, steadying you.

“Poor thing,” he says, like he means it. “Too hot to think. Too worked up to behave.”

Your rhythm stutters. You let out a broken sound and try to press down harder. He doesn’t stop you.

“Go on, then,” he murmurs. “Make a mess. If that’s what it takes to get you to breathe, I’ll take care of it.”

“Kento,” you gasp, clinging to him now, muscles trembling.

His voice lowers, intimate and rough: “You want to be my good girl?”

You nod frantically.

“Then show me. Come just like this. Let go for me.”

Your vision goes white as you obey, clinging to his shirt, panting through the heat and the slick press of your release. He holds you gently, breath warm against your temple, and says—

“There she is. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

[hexcii]

Something important came in the mail today :))

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

WHAT THE READERS WEAR TO BED

Wb!reader is a big nerd and would definitely have superhero pajamas (burned all the Batman-themed clothes and pajamas).

Archer!reader is more laid-back and comfortable; also, everything in their room is blue, so it must match the theme.

Voodoo!reader nightgowns and moo-moos to bed. Bruce buys all cute and fancy ones with ruffles; he thinks you look adorable in them, like a little doll.

male!reader mostly wears nothing but his boxers to bed, but he was gifted a pair of pajamas by his mother (she thought it was a cute teddy bear pattern). He will still wear them to sleep.

Green Lantern!reader is a sporty girl, so she would wear her jersey to bed or long basketball shorts. But even tomboys like to feel cute and comfy.