#reader fixes everything

[heldbybarnes]

The House on Haviland Street

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: Emotional themes (grief, loss, memory), slight angst, comfort, soft reunion, happy tears

----------

It started with a sigh.

You’d been curled up on the couch with him, feet tangled beneath a shared throw blanket, some movie playing quietly in the background. And then he sighed — a soft, hollow thing — and even though he didn’t say a word, your heart clenched.

That sigh had a weight to it. One you’d grown familiar with over the months. The kind he exhaled when he thought you weren’t looking. When something from the past crept in and curled its cold fingers around his chest.

“Bucky?” you asked gently.

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes on the screen, the flicker of light casting pale shadows on his face.

“I’m fine, doll. Just tired.”

You didn’t press. Not that night. But the sigh stayed with you. Like an unfinished sentence.

A week later, you found him in the kitchen at 3 a.m., hunched over a cup of coffee he hadn’t touched.

“I had a dream,” he said, without prompting. “My mom was there. She was makin’ biscuits. The way she used to. Had flour all over her apron and hair pinned up. She was humming something... I think it was Patsy Cline.”

You crossed the room slowly, joining him at the table. He didn’t look up.

“I didn’t wanna wake up,” he whispered.

You reached for his hand — his flesh hand — and let your fingers wrap around his. He was warm. Trembling just slightly.

“She used to tuck a note in my coat pocket before I went off to school. Every single day. Sometimes just a smiley face. Sometimes a quote. She didn’t want me to think too hard — just wanted me to feel loved.”

He laughed, but it was wet around the edges.

“I don’t even know if she made it. Or if my sisters did. It’s been so long... And if they didn’t, I don’t think I wanna know.”

That’s when your heart made a quiet promise.

You were going to find them.

You didn’t tell Bucky. Not right away.

You started by digging through records — public archives, census data, wartime notifications. It wasn’t easy. Most of what existed around the Barnes family ended in a neat little obituary column in 1944.

But then there was a land deed. A renewal notice tucked into a property file in Brooklyn.

A brownstone. Haviland Street.

The name on the deed?

Winifred M. Barnes.

The photo attached to the file was grainy and faded, taken decades ago — but there was something so Bucky about the stoop. The railing was crooked. A planter overflowed with wildflowers.

Still, the real proof came when you knocked on the door three weeks later.

An old woman answered. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun, silver-white, and her eyes — God, her eyes — were the same shade of icy blue you saw in the mirror every morning, staring back at you from Bucky’s sleepy face.

“Yes?”

Her voice was cautious but kind.

You swallowed. “Are you… Winifred Barnes?”

A pause.

“I am.”

You took a shaky breath. “I think… I think your son is alive.”

The woman stared at you for a long, long time.

Then she collapsed into your arms.

Winifred Barnes had survived.

The war. The telegram. The silence that followed.

“They told us James died on the mission. The official report said he fell from a train. But no body… I never stopped believing. Not really.”

You sat with her in the parlor, tucked into an overstuffed armchair while her two daughters — Becca and Nora, now grown — hovered nearby. All three of them still lived together in the old brownstone, a quiet life. Safe. Private.

“We didn’t talk about him after a while,” Nora murmured. “It hurt too much. But Mama… she still set a plate for him every Christmas. Still tucked notes into empty coat pockets.”

You told them everything. As much as you could without breaking the fragile timeline. About Hydra. About his recovery. About Wakanda. About you.

When you showed them a picture of Bucky — one you’d taken last fall when he was holding a mug of cocoa and smiling at your dog like she’d just told him a secret — Winifred pressed it to her lips and cried.

“I want to see him,” she whispered. “Please. Before it’s too late.”

You didn’t tell Bucky right away. You wanted to wait until everything was in place.

So you lied. A little.

“Come with me?”

“To Brooklyn? On a Thursday morning?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He looked at you with narrowed eyes. “You sure it’s not a trap?”

You laughed. “Only if you count cinnamon rolls as weapons.”

He got quiet as the cab turned onto Haviland Street.

“This neighborhood feels familiar,” he murmured.

When you stopped in front of the brownstone, he stared up at it for a long time.

Then: “Why are we here?”

You stepped closer, brushing his arm. “Just… come inside.”

The moment the door opened, time stood still.

Winifred was there — thinner than he remembered, older, but still his mother. Her face crumpled the second she saw him.

“James.”

It wasn’t a question.

Bucky’s eyes filled instantly. His jaw tightened.

“Mama?”

She stepped forward on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

“My boy,” she whispered, over and over, “my sweet boy.”

Bucky dropped to his knees.

Held her like he was afraid she might disappear.

“I thought I lost you,” he choked.

“You never could.”

Behind her, Becca and Nora watched with glassy eyes. Becca was the first to step forward.

“You’re taller than I remember,” she teased softly.

“You still steal the covers?” Nora added.

Bucky laughed — a real, broken laugh that sounded like home.

He hugged them both like he’d never let go again.

The rest of the day passed in pieces of memory.

Winifred sat beside Bucky on the old floral couch, her hand never leaving his. She showed him the recipe box. The coat with the empty pocket. The worn photo of him at 16, grinning with a busted lip and his arm slung over Steve’s shoulder.

He didn’t talk much. Just listened.

Let her run her fingers through his hair.

Let her call him James.

Let himself be someone’s son again.

That night, after you helped Winifred to bed and said your goodbyes to the sisters, Bucky stood frozen on the brownstone stoop.

“She’s really here,” he said.

“She is.”

“And Becca. And Nora.”

You nodded. “They’re safe. They’ve always been safe.”

He turned to you, eyes shining in the moonlight.

“You did this.”

You didn’t answer.

But he pulled you in — hard and fast — and kissed you like it was the only language he had left.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your forehead. “For giving me back a piece of myself.”

You smiled. “You were never missing. Just waiting to be found.”

The next Sunday, you had dinner at the house on Haviland Street.

Winifred made biscuits.

Bucky cried.

And for the first time in a long time, he laughed like a boy again — surrounded by the women who once held his whole world.

And the one who helped him find it again.

[romayer2]

I'll never get tired of drawing these idiots in love! I love this story too much ❤️

@bones-of-a-rabbit i hope you like it :)

(It's been a while since I've had an update, and I apologize madly for that. Study is relentless :( )

[candytoothed]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.

[hatethysinner]

ooh maybe a drabble/headcanons about remmick with technology in a modern au? i feel like he texts like a grandpa lol. he also probably would blow up your phone with the amount of messages he sends.

ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀ ᴘʜᴏɴᴇ

ᴀ/ɴ: MY FIRST MODERN AU! i've been waiting for an excuse to make these headcanons and you've finally given me one anon!! these have been swirling in my mind for at least 2-3 weeks so it was very fun to finally get them out of my brain and onto a post. i had a lot of fun with this one, so enjoy y'all!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: just comedic unserious cutiepie remmick headcanons + tumblr formatting fuckery

y’all know that one clip from abbott elementary where barbara takes a picture of herself and says “now who took that picture of meeeee?”

yeah that just about sums up how remmick is with technology.

he’s terrible with anything that involves a screen, and understands how they work even less.

so there’s two very specific ways remmick texts (no inbetween), either like a hostage negotiator:

hello. this is remmick. are you safe. i miss you. i saw a rabbit today. thought of you. please advise. you left your socks here. i have kept them in a safe place. let me know if you require them back. can you call me. i don’t like the typing.

or like 50 messages with no punctuation whatsoever:

hi sweetheart i meant to tell you something hang on i saw a bird with red on its wings youd have liked it wait picture didnt work it’s gone now nevermind hi again i miss you do you want eggs in the morning

oh and he types with his pointer finger only so both ways take forever.

his ass can’t use emojis in the right context to save his life. i’m making soup 🐍 love you always 🔪🌹☁️🕊️🩸

please don’t try to videocall this man because you will get jumpscared. nose all up in the camera, blurry as hell, shouting “HELLO?!” like you just pulled him out of odinsleep.

also, screen brightness baffles him so bad. you once caught him squinting at his dimmed phone for half an hour before he asked you: “has the light inside it gone out?”

you showed him how to use spotify one day and he takes making playlists so seriously. each one has a full sentence title, three paragraph description, and some kind of memory attached to it. your favorites are: “for when the world is too loud and you are my quiet.” “i would have danced to this with you in 1945.” “this one made me think about your ankle.”

even a centuries old vampire loves video games just as much as you do. his favorites are the sims (painstakingly rebuilt your entire life together), animal crossing (5 star island and he does not play about his landscaping), and stardew valley (probably holds the world record for largest farm ever and you stopped asking what year he was on after 55)

he said he hated reality tv... so why do you find him curled up next to you every summer to watch love island? he’s a diehard amaya/olandria stan, of course, and he WILL find a way to work his phone so he can cast them votes.

he doesn’t trust the cloud, naturally. “why do we put our memories in it?” “what if it rains? what happens then?” “no, i won’t put your birthday photos there. the sky doesn’t need them.”

he saves every single voicemail you leave him, even if it’s just a simple “call me back.” sometimes you’ll randomly leave him one just for him to add to the collection.

he only uses social media for the animal pictures and videos so when anything else plays he just stares at the screen like 😐.

well that’s a lie he’d definitely follow a bunch of irish nature accounts and will shove his phone in your face while talking about what he remembers from each photo.

yes he does have 97 tabs open and no he won't close any of them. his excuse is always the same. “what if i need them later?”

someone texted him lmao once and he showed it to you with the most confused look on his face. “are they alright?” “it means laughing my ass off.” “…can that happen?”

in conclusion, leave the millennium old grandpappy alone.

[boobearymuch]

❀ You're Overstimulated ❀

Zayne would instantly recognize you're overstimulated and leap into action without thinking twice about it. He'd notice you've gone uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes, nodding or giving clipped responses. Or maybe you're snappier than usual, but he doesn't take it to heart, he never does.

He'd suddenly excuse you both from whatever social situation you're in without warning, and you'd give him a surprised look. Or if he can't control the circumstances, he'd suddenly suggest you guys move to a different room if he knows the lights are too bright/noise levels are too loud. You'd pout out of embarrassment for a bit, "Was it that obvious?"

But he only chuckles and leans in to whisper, "To me, yes." And you frown again, but then he thumbs your chin softly, "...I can't help it. My eyes are always on you."

Bonus: If your clothes are irritating you, he'll wait until you're in the car to say, "Take it off."

"...What?"

His cool eyes slide over to you as he shifts the ignition, "Your clothes. They're bothering you, are they not?" The authority in his voice is unmistakable, and it raises the hair on your arms, "So, take them off."

[ladycharlottexoxo]

could you write number 7 and 6 with jinx? 😔

smut prompts · 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙺 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚈 𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 ⋆⋆⋆

walking in on their partner touching themself. mutual masturbation.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Jinx hadn't expected to walk in on you rubbing your clit over the thin, soaked fabric of your panties— your hips thrusting in the air desperately, filthy moans and huffs of her name exiting your mouth.

“J-Jinx,” you cried out as you finished, your panties soaked and breath coming in rough pants. Jinx's eyes were wide with surprise before softneing into cruel amusement. “Oh, hey, sweets. I see you're having all the fun without me.” She chirped.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Jinx was cruel now, sitting in front of you with her pale, thin legs apart. She looked at you who was in the same position as her, opposite her. Jinx rubbed her clit, moaning— the sound high pitched.

Her head hung back, mouth opening as she pleasured herself in front of you. Her pink folds bloomed around her fingers as they delved deeper into her hole: schlik schlik schlik.

Your hand followed her movements, digging into your hole and curling against your g-spot. You moaned her name, staring at the way her face scrunched up in pleasure.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ “im cumming!” you cried out and your liquids seeped out of your hole, pussy convulsing deliciously as you finished all over your own fingers.

jinx came soon after, her fingers pacing up and hips raising off the ground— her pussy was drenched and looked scrumptious making your mouth water. maybe if you begged her just right she'd allow you to eat her out.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

you: exists every single one of Sun's thoughts: ceases to exist

[littlelovelunette]

can you write about the reader being Vi’s fwb for about a year or so, and is year or two younger than Vi. Over time the reader got used to stories about and had few interactions with Jinx, n one night after Vi is out, Jinx gets teased by the reader for being immature and assumingly submissive. And reader makes a move to top Jinx, but then is humbled. Can you include making the reader ride her thigh, she shoves a toy into r! with her shoe, sits on reader’s face, n also she uses a double ended toy, and r! tries to take over and please Jinx, but she is greatly reminded who is in control. You can change or add anything (idk if this is crazy I took a nap and came up with this) also love your writing 🫡

DON’T ASSUME

Dom!Jinx x FWB with Vi!Reader

WARNING— Sex, thigh humping, Jinx calls reader ‘pornstar’, dildo, riding said dildo, nipple pulling, condescending!Jinx, modern!au, double-sided dildo, mommy kink.

“You? Dominate someone? Pffft!”

You rolled your eyes as you bit into the apple, leaning back against the kitchen counter as you saw Jinx walk around the kitchen with her arms crossed. She was dressed in a satin black pajama set, and fuzzy slippers. Her long blue braids were, for once, undone and her arms were crossed, a sour expression on her face.

“You'd be surprised,” Jinx grumbled and propped her knee onto the kitchen island, reaching her fingers to wrap around the little jar of cookies that was on the top cabinet.

“Uh-huh,” you snorted a laugh, scrolling through your phone, “You're barely mature enough to drive a car.”

“And you're mature enough to be my mom,” Jinx put the jar down on the counter and was about to open her mouth to hit you with another snarky remark but you were faster.

Her wrists were thin in your hand as you pinned her to the counter, smirking at her, “See? Totally dominant of you,” your knee slipped in between her thighs, rubbing against Jinx's crotch.

Jinx raised a brow, unamused.

Well, your uh-huh was paying off well now.

You desperately rutted against Jinx's thigh, whimpering as the material of her pajamas soaked with your arousal, “Please,” your hands were tied behind your back as you whimpered and squirmed.

“Go ahead, continue your stupid assumptions,” Jinx said snappily.

“I'm sorry, Jinx, please.”

“Yeah? You're sorry? You're—” she grabbed your nipple and pulled it, “—sorry?”

“Ah! Yes! I'm so sorry!” you cried out, thighs clamping down on either side of Jinx’s. “I'm really sorry…”

Your face flushed when you saw her gesture to you to lay down onto the floor but you complied either way. The floor was cold against your bare back as you opened up your legs, watching as she pushed a dildo closer to your pussy using her foot.

“Ride it for me, pornstar,” Jinx gave you a lopsided grin.

You gasped when the dildo buried up into your pussy all the way, biting down onto your bottom lip as you got up, knees against the floor as you rode the dildo. The silicone toy was big and the artificial cock had veins that rubbed your inner walls in the best way possible.

The cold temperature of Jinx's room wasn't helping, your nipples were as perky as they could get and you had goosebumps. Your thighs trembled around the dildo that was probably a little over seven inches. Your clit throbbed needily as you continued riding it for her.

“There we go, doll,” Jinx smirked and walked around your whimpering form on the ground.

Your hands curled in the carpet as you looked at Jinx with your teary eyes, “I really am sorry, please…”

A slow smirk curled into Jinx’s lips as she walked around you. She watched you for a little bit before she helped you up, your legs shaking under your weight.

“Look at you, so cute for me,” Jinx giggled.

You whimpered, staring up at her with teary eyes. Jinx grabbed what looked like a double-sided dildo, using her other hand to spread your cunt out for herself, she entered the dildo inside making you moan.

“It's big…” you whimpered, your hips bucking up for her, grinding against the dildo before she pushed your hips back down.

“Shhh, you'll take it nice and slow for me,” Jinx whispered.

Jinx’s smirk didn’t waver, if anything, it deepened as she crouched between your shaking legs, her fingers trailing along the edge of your thigh like she was tracing a blueprint.

“Pornstars don’t whimper like that,” she muttered, voice syrupy with teasing as her other hand gave a slap to your inner thigh, the sting making you jolt.

Your breath caught in your throat as she eased down onto the other end of the double-sided dildo. Her pajama shorts were bunched up at her waist, and the contrast of her black satin against your flushed, trembling skin made your head spin. You moaned openly as the toy sank deeper inside you, the slick sound obscene in the quiet of the apartment. Jinx gave a pleased sigh, exhaling slow and low through her nose.

“Mmm, you feel that?” she asked, rolling her hips slowly, making the toy grind deep inside both of you.

“Yes,” you choked out, barely able to hold your hips steady as her movements set your nerves alight.

“Yeah you do,” Jinx giggled breathily, now placing her palms on either side of your head as she leaned over you. Her chest brushed against yours, her nipples hard against the thin fabric of her shirt. “Look at you,” she murmured, the smugness softening just a fraction into something hungrier, “Getting all fucked dumb from just a toy.”

You whined as she started moving faster, her rhythm jerky and rough, just how she liked it. You tried to move in sync with her, but your limbs were shaking, your body nearly collapsing with each sharp, delicious thrust. Your arms reached for her, but she pinned them above your head easily with one hand, the other going straight for your breast and giving it a harsh squeeze.

“Jinx! Please,” you gasped, pleasure rising too fast to process.

“Please what?” she cooed, lips brushing your cheek. “You wanna cum already? You gonna cream all over this dumb toy just from me riding you?”

You couldn’t speak, only nod, tears lining your lashes as you arched into her.

“Poor baby,” Jinx whispered, tongue slipping out to lick a hot stripe up your neck. “So sensitive… fuck, I can feel you pulsing around it.”

Your scream cracked halfway out, your body twitching with overstimulation.

“That’s right,” Jinx purred, rolling her hips even harder, “Scream for your mommy.”

You broke.

[naumala]

okok I know a lot of angst in DE is related to the objects losing touch / abandoning the player after realizing them buttttt what about the reverse where the mc is the one slowly reverting back to their old life now that they're really alone again.

(aka they might have been the exception to MCs' bad social habits when it was basically a forced proximity situation, but now they get to be the ones to experience it firsthand).

MC can admit that it's a heavy, bittersweet feeling when the house becomes more and more empty and quiet after realizing each person but refuses to let it show. who are they to hold back everyone (whether lovers or friends) from making a whole new life outside this house? they're all out living their best new human lives and figuring themselves out! it's a beautiful thing.

life goes on like it did before. way before.

at first it starts small– calls that were a regular thing slowly dwindling down to texts only (that new promotion keeping them busy is always a good excuse), which also start getting shorter answers and replied to less often as the weeks go by. trying to find the middle ground of either spam texting or giving MC space does nothing in terms of their unpredictable timing of when they finally respond to a two week old text.

visits that were made from the MCs side are practically nonexistent now. if you wanna see them face to face you have to go basically barging down their door because they're more than likely gonna pretend that they're not home unless you make a fuss of it, and even those visits feels awkward.

MC tries to rationalize their self-sabotaging habits in their mind like they always have with previous friends; they never were good at keeping in touch with people when they got all sad and weird. It was probably inevitable that it was gonna happen anyways. Might as well do it before they got way too attached and ending up hurt again (yet unsurprisingly hurting a lot of people in the process).

[c0ntr0lledchaos]

Thought this scene from After Everything was Fixed (but you were still broken) by @bones-of-a-rabbit was really cute. had a lot of fun reading it and have a couple more artworks queued up for it.

[yuwuta]

roommate katsuki lore time: 

your job isn’t as physically demanding as that of a pro-hero, but it is equally, if not more time intensive. your friends often comment you seem dead on your feet way more often than they do, and you have to agree. so when you decide to scrounge up some extra money and hire a private chef, you think it’s the best decision you’ve made in a while. 

your friends would seem to agree—and some tease that maybe you should ask your guy if he can cater to izuku, too. except for katsuki, who seems appalled, betrayed, and disgruntled. it takes all but one week about you gushing over the meals your chef has prepped for you for katsuki to show up to your apartment in the middle of the day, while you’re at work, and the chef is in your kitchen, kindly ask him to leave forever, and get to work himself. when you come home, you’re confused and pissed when you realize katsuki has fired your saving grace, but the anger falls flat on your tongue when you’re interrupted by the blonde spoon-feeding you the most delicious bite of steak that you’ve ever had in your entire life. he’s way too smug watching you physically melt about the food, and ordering you to sit down and have a proper meal. 

he tries not to be endeared by your stuffed cheeks, but there’s a satisfaction brewing in him that he can’t quite place. all he knows is it won’t be taken away from him again; that’s why he flicks your forehead, throws a dish towel over his shoulder, and says, “make room for my shit here by the end of the week. and don’t complain when i put all your spoons together in one drawer,” before heading over to the sink to wash up. 

you don’t even get until the end of the week before katsuki is barreling into your apartment with boxes and clothes and, “this is what we call a stainless steel pan in the wild. ever seen one before?” prompting you to reach up and pinch his ear even as he cackles all the way to the kitchen. you suppose, in the end you can’t complain. you get to live with your best friend, you get free catering, free cleaning, and it takes you two months of living together to find out katsuki’s paid off your rent for the rest of the year, too. you know, what friends are for. 

[wolverinesprincess]

being held to sleep by this logan 🥺🫠

[romayer2]

Simple and quick sketches for today, because I'm too lazy to do complete drawings ಥ_ಥ

I'm hoping to make up for it with a little comic about the reader and their renewed body. It's been on my mind for a while now.

@bones-of-a-rabbit I hope you'll like it. I love love LOVE every new chapter✨

[follka]

[soratonin]

characters who are like the sun, but in an inevitable destructive and dooming way to everyone around them. bright but burning. scorching you the closer you get to them and their truth. how it'd be best of you to keep your distance from them, even when they visibly glow in longing to be touched in their most untouchable state... how they rather be the light for you instead... and like stars, they are destined to their supernova...

[merlucide]

THE KISS ~♡

PhaiMira or wtv…

ughhhh that one side quest where Trailblazer has to third wheel on their date is acc so awkward… oh and when they started French kissing in front of the opponent and Trailblazer carried…. Wtv I ship ig 🙄

@m1ckeyb3rry

(Also sorry I can’t really remember your distinct features uhu 💔 hope it resembles a bit!!)