#the branch breakers

[mrpenguinpants]

Hypothetical question but are we still into windbreaker (nii satoru)? Y'all cool if I put my hyper fixation on center stage?

[kingofanemptyworld]

you’re gonna hear about this wind breaker pokemon au again, like, just letting everyone know now. I’ve been thinking about gym leader turned day care work Umemiya and headstrong, unwilling to choke down his pride (the only thing sustaining him) Sakura way, waaaaay to much to let this one go. you will hear Thoughts. Ideas. perhaps incoherent dialogue strung together in a desperate bid to get these dumbasses out of my head. also togame will be there

[cataclysmicamomile]

I got major Outer Science vibes from the latest chapter of Wind Breaker... Those snakes...

[cesium-sheep]

I hate doctor's appointments and I especially hate doctor's appointments where the whole point is to talk about how the military fucked me up but I do appreciate my primary care provider, they're generally reliable and invested. and I finally got around to finding the karaoke place in yakuza so now I can do that until dinner time.

[kalloway]

sketching with a brush u don't like vs sketching with one you do /hj

Valeyna was originally my new DS2 character but I'm also porting her into an original thing I'm working on cuz it needs more of a cast of characters alongside Vasya besides Faust (again... who invited him THIS time huh /j) and a thirsty fairy (starring as the "weird little guy:tm:) LMAO

she is a soft spoken sorceress who is from a nomadic people with a bad reputation for their namesake - Albedo. She has an interest in the dark/occult and uses hexes, but as a result, she's very open-minded.

[saturn-noctua]

Troubling news in the land of playing dnd with my pals

Yesterday was the “season finale” and the city we were all in was leveled by the following: a dragon brought by Twigg, a frost giant, the mini god imprisoned in Twiggs scythe (now freed by Twigg), a fascist who is now a god, and a lich. All at the same time mind you.

Everyone fled to the feywilds but Voski got left behind because he tripped and missed the portal.

Voskiroche tried to kill Twigg and failed immediately and spectacularly, disintegrated by the lich who is also Twiggs buddy. Frejas mom, who it turns out is actually a goddess, died but was revived, so she’s a mortal now and also in a coma. And Twiggs scythe friend is also Frejas dad!

Voskis cat, Weevil, is being taken care of by Rhozk in Frejas moms castle. But no one knows yet that Voski is never coming back and Rhozk keeps saying stuff like “I sure hope my best friend Voski is ok over there :(“

Everyone wants Twigg dead now

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The 1971 Mushroom House in Pittsford, NY was last sold in 2015. It was listed for $699,900, reduced to $629k, & sold for $538,888. The owners put it up for rent for $10k/mo & removed it a year later in 2016. They reduced it to $6,900/mo in 2017. In 2020, the rent went down to $5,500/mo. It was removed in 2021. Went back on the market in 2022. Now, it's back again for $5,500/mo and has been on the market for 166 days. Apparently, no one wants it. 3bds, 3ba, 4,168sqft. Would you rent it for $5,500? Oh, no pets. (Deal breaker.)

Entrance to the property.

The front door entrance. Nice flooring.

You could say it's a little weird. The fireplace lights up inside.

There're skylights, but it's still darkish inside.

So, you've got tree trunks and branches with hanging lights.

I don't think they're real trees, they must be art trees.

Now, this is where the mushroom motif comes in, but it looks more tree-like.

Quite a large built-in seating area.

From the living room you can see the kitchen thru an opening with a built-in table.

This smaller, casual area next to the kitchen must be a family room.

Double door entrance near the kitchen. Must open to the patio.

The kitchen's quite large.

It's long like a galley style design, but it has lots of windows.

Here's the primary bedroom.

Look at the ensuite- It has mosaic tile that looks like water is running out of the tub.

Don't know what this is, but it must be a hall.

This secondary bedroom looks about the same size as the primary.

It has a smaller ensuite, but still full of mosaics and sculpted surfaces.

There's a large elevated patio.

Looks like there's some sculpture on the grounds.

When I first looked, I thought that was a mattress, but I think it's probably a hot tub cover. Weird area.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/142-Park-Rd-Pittsford-NY-14534/31022966_zpid/

[flawlessflesh]

more viking au thistle!

our cast:

thistle the álfar, an elf child who got lost among the world tree yggdrasil's branches and found himself stranded in the human realm, midgard. magically powerful and regarded as a gift from the gods, he was apprenticed under freinag's seer to be trained as a protector for his adoptive family. in an attempt to prevent delgal's death, thistle manipulates his fate into a knot which cannot be cut.

freinag giftbringer, a viking lord who establishes his 'golden kingdom' in newly seized territory along northumbria's coast. he is called 'giftbringer' for his generosity to his followers and the many riches they gained during his time. thistle is freinag's adopted child, picked up on a raid and taken home with him... plz imagine freinag whining to his men like "Guys i neeeeeeeed this baby elf who tried to burn our ships to come chill with us in my mead hall!"

delgal mirrorblade, freinag's only son who inherits his holdings and men, but not their love or loyalty, and whose byname is an insult because he doesnt fight alongside the warriors - his blade is as clean and glossy as a mirror. thistle is his only ally and the only thing standing between him and a bloody coup.

So Delgal in those days held the hall Of Freinag his father the great gift-bringer And behind the breaker of rings sat the seer of wyrds Thistle thread-binder, small-spear child

(poem written by gwen!)

[hotchnerwrites]

we NEED a part 2 to Olive Branch!! it was so so good, I loved the way you wrote it from hotch’s perspective

The Coffee Swap

◁ part one

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: SFW, mutual crushes, implied age gap if you really squint, no use of (y/n), reader uses (she/her), Rossi appears with sage advice, fluff, flirting, office romance lowkey

A/N: ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE 🙏

My requests are open. Send me stuff! Please read the rules before asking, and be advised there is a slight wait time right now. But I will post for sure. :)

Aaron had given you a pen.

That’s all it was supposed to be. A simple gesture. An ice-breaker for the initial tension. Something quality that said ‘you’re appreciated’ without overstepping professional boundaries. Something he knew for sure you’d like.

But your reaction to it had thrown him off. Something had clicked between you two then, something that suddenly made sense.

Aaron hadn’t felt this hopeful in a long, long time. 

So naturally, he’d been trying to act completely normal, which meant he was now spiralling into teenage-boy-with-a-hopeless-crush territory. He watched the door when he heard your voice, waiting for you to enter. Smiled when you walked past his office. Wondered how he could brighten up your day— more pens? No, perhaps you should finish this one first. Coffee refill? But that was your third cup of the day. Maybe the moon. That’d do it.

Getting caught up with how to impress you further was exactly how he found himself accidentally stealing your coffee.

In Aaron’s defence, he was tired. The team had gotten back at 3:00 am, and he was running on autopilot. He must have forgotten his travel mug because it wasn’t on the usual shelf in the break room. So he grabbed the identical one sitting there and took a sip before his brain could catch up. An understandable error.

And then Aaron choked. 

It was sweet. Too sweet. Like someone had emptied three tins of sugar into it. It’d be an affront to even call this coffee. This was… an abomination.

He coughed once, twice, then glared at the cup like it had betrayed him. And then, in dawning horror, he realised it wasn’t his cup at all.

“Damn it.”

He hurried back to the break room and sure enough— there you were, digging through the upper shelves like you were looking for treasure. Aaron froze in the doorway. An unfamiliar sensation took over him— nervousness?

You didn’t hear him at first, so he took a step inside.

“Hey—”

You spun around so fast you nearly knocked into the counter. Your eyes widened, and then you just froze.

Like a sheep spotting a wolf.

Not that he was the wolf. He hoped not. Shepherd? Maybe. Sheepdog? 

What??! 

What was he thinking? He didn’t know. His brain was short-circuiting—tripping over metaphors and good sense alike. Why couldn’t he just say hello like a normal person?

Say something, his brain urged. Something normal. Professional. Not ‘I drank your coffee and now I’m in love with you’.

“Oh,” you said eventually, voice quiet. Your hand was still mid-air, holding onto the cabinet. “Hi.”

You were staring at him. Your eyes were big and uncertain like you hadn’t expected him—like maybe you were just as thrown as he was. He wished that didn’t make his heart stutter.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh.” He held up the mug like it was evidence. “I think I accidentally took your coffee.”

Smooth. Real smooth.

You blinked. And then—to his absolute horror—you looked mortified. “Oh god. You drank it?”

“I did.”

“Was it…terrible?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say it was perfect, actually, because it was yours, and he would drink it ten thousand times more if it meant he got to see your nose scrunch like that. But instead, he choked out, “It was…unexpected.”

You pressed your lips together, clearly trying not to laugh, and Aaron could feel heat creeping up his neck. Great, really great. Now he was blushing like a teenager. At work.

“I had one just now and it was black. Bitter. I thought I was dying.”

That startled a laugh out of him. A real one. It slipped out before he could catch it, and your head jerked up at the sound.

You looked at him like he’d just spoken fluent dolphin.

He couldn’t stop watching the way your mouth tilted into something unsure like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to smile at him. Like you were trying to read him in real time. And suddenly, he wished he were easier to read. Easier to talk to. Less of a brick wall with a nice tie.

Why did this feel so difficult? He led a team of elite profilers. He testified in courtrooms. He’d faced down serial killers with nothing but a badge and a sharp tongue.

And yet here he was, overthinking every word that left his mouth. Because it was you. Because your voice went quiet when you talked to him, and your smile came a beat later like you were still figuring out if it was safe.

“I’m sorry,” you said, eyes soft with concern. “I didn’t mean to insult your taste.”

“No, it’s alright,” he said, still smiling. “Your coffee was…memorable.”

You relaxed, a little. He noticed your grip easing on the shelf. But you still looked like you wanted to flee. Aaron really should have left it there. But his mouth moved before his brain could think and he took perhaps the biggest risk of his life.

“I’m—uh—happy you liked the pen,” he said, almost too casually.

You blinked again. “Oh. I—I did. I do. I use it every day. It’s—it’s lovely.”

There was a shy honesty to your voice like you didn’t quite know how to say how much it meant to you. It did something warm and ridiculous to his chest.

“I’m glad,” he said softly. A little too fond.

You nodded, then excused yourself with a flustered smile and disappeared down the hall.

Aaron stayed rooted to the spot, heart hammering like he’d just been asked to prom.

“Well, well.”

Rossi’s voice cut in like a knife and Aaron nearly dropped the mug, fumbling to catch it mid-air.

“I was wondering what all that giggling was about,” Dave said, strolling into the room like he hadn’t just witnessed the most awkward crush exchange known to man.

Aaron gave him a warning look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Rossi said, reaching for his own coffee. “I’ve seen high schoolers flirt more subtly.”

“It wasn’t flirting,” Aaron muttered, looking anywhere but at him. The wall behind Rossi seemed very compelling. Maybe it held answers. Or an escape hatch.

“Sure,” Rossi said, sipping. “That’s why you’re smiling into a mug of sugar syrup.”

Aaron sighed. “She’s—young.”

“She’s not that young.”

“She works for me.”

“She also smiled like you’d hung the stars for her. Come on, Aaron. You’re not exactly Mr. Spontaneous, but even you can see the way she looks at you.”

Aaron didn’t answer.

Rossi’s voice dipped, just a touch more kind than usual. “She likes you,” he said. “You like her. Ask her out. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Aaron stared at the door you’d just exited from. He could still see the outline of your smile.

He already knew the worst that could happen. He’d lived it before.

But the best?

The best could be good. Something warm. Something new.

He looked down at the too-sweet coffee in his hand and huffed a quiet laugh, barely there, but real.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d bring two cups.

Just in case.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[rosy-hollow]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: Ground Breaker

ᴀ/ɴ: if you saw this yesterday no you didn't... full series masterlist here!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: cursing, death, blood, gore, the hunger games

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader

Bakugou never actually wakes you up to take your shift. He lets you sleep through the night while he stays up.

You’re not happy about this.

And you tell him.

The moment you wake up, bleary eyes squinting at the rosy rays of sunlight that peek through the treetops, you freeze—betrayal flashing through you.

“You let me sleep?!”

The blond doesn’t even bother denying it. Just looks at you, eyes raking over your disheveled state before grunting under his breath.

“Go scout the area. Make sure no one’s around. I’m going hunting.”

His voice is clipped. No profanity, no insults. It makes you feel strange inside, your stomach twisting in uncertainty.

You scowl, fully prepared to chew him out, but he’s already gone before you can say a word.

Stupid Bakugou and his stupid broody hero complex.

You don’t know what goes through that thick head of his. He’s as much of an enigma to you as you are an open book to him.

And that pisses you off.

Especially because his question from last night won’t leave you alone.

“Why the fuck didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”

It unsettles you for two reasons.

One—you could kill someone. That fact alone is enough to rattle you to your core.

Growing up in District 11, you obviously learned to fight. There wasn’t much of a choice. Muscles earned from days under the blistering sun, working from dawn till dusk just to get a scrap of food on the table.

You endured—because that’s all you could do.

But does enduring mean taking life from someone else?

Could you really watch the light fade from someone’s eyes, just so yours can keep shining?

The very thought makes you want to vomit your internal organs and crawl out of your skin.

But the other part of Bakugou’s question digs deeper:

Why didn’t you kill him?

You can’t be going soft. Not in the arena. That’s basically a death sentence.

And yet—you’ve already saved him once. Shared food. Shared stories. Shared silence.

You haven’t even known him two full days.

You scold yourself. You can’t afford to forget where you are. What it means.

Your jaw tightens.

This is just an alliance. A temporary truce.

 Nothing more.

You sigh, eyes scanning the empty camp, remembering what Bakugou told you.

As much as it annoys you to follow orders like some stupid puppy—he’s right. Scouting’s your best bet right now.

Especially since the trees are close enough together that you can stay mostly above ground.

You sigh again, finding a thick bush to stash your backpack—just in case someone raids the camp—and grab your dagger before scaling the nearest tree.

Climbing feels… grounding. Familiar. A small scrap of comfort in a world that offers none.

Because right now, this place?

This place isn’t home.

This is the Hunger Games.

And somehow, the fact that you’re actually in them still hasn’t fully hit you. It’s surreal. You’re physically here, but mentally? You don’t know where the hell you are anymore.

A strange bush catches your eye - off to the side, just barely in your periphery.

You pause. Glance around. No movement.

Slipping down from the branches, you approach the odd plant.

It’s clearly fake. The leaves are too green. Too sharp. Too symmetrical.

You frown. Why the hell would the Gamemakers put a fake bush in the arena?

You swallow thickly.

You’re about to do something really stupid.

You kick it.

The plant topples over easily. No roots. No resistance.

What does catch your attention, though - is the tunnel underneath.

Big enough to fit a person.

You stare, heart hammering. It’s man-made. Deliberate.

But how deep is it? Where does it go?

You don’t know. You don’t like not knowing.

You cover the tunnel back up with the bush, hands shaking slightly.

Kicking it was stupid. It could’ve cost you your life.

You bolt back to camp.

Like a coward.

Bakugou’s already there when you return, one eyebrow raised at your out-of-breath state.

“The fuck happened to you?”

“I—”

SCREECH.

You both freeze.

Eyes wide. Breaths held.

Then you run.

No hesitation. No time to grab your things.

Just run.

Mutts.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribcage as the sounds get closer—snarling, screeching, tearing through the forest behind you.

Your lungs burn. Your legs scream. Your eyes sting.

Shit, shit, shit.

You’re going to die.

Fuck.

Wait.

You see it.

That fake bush—once odd, now salvation.

You grab Bakugou’s wrist and yank him toward it, kicking aside the foliage and diving into the tunnel. He follows without question, too focused on surviving to ask how you knew it was there.

The blond yanks the bush back over the hole just in time.

Screeches echo through the forest above.

You don’t let go of his wrist.

And he doesn’t let go of you.

.

.

.

Time passes.

Could’ve been minutes. Could’ve been hours.

The mutts grow distant. The silence returns.

You both collapse—shoulders heaving, lungs starved of air.

Only now do you really look around.

The tunnel is solid. Packed dirt, expertly carved, walls reinforced like it was meant to last. A row of torches line one side, burning low and steady.

It stretches into the dark. No end in sight.

You lock eyes with Bakugou again.

These Games?

Just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

taglist: @attackonnat @ldk3347 @onlyisaa @luciapiacat @wonubby @snoopyluvrpao @kiromiix @delshmel @nijoll @babypeapoddd @mirajanestrauss1999 @kianatrg @blankk3 @witch-craft-works @midnight-drives-with-sunarin  @samxbaker @xanneeeyyyy @tom-hollands-blog @jazoewazoe @sixxe @poot2234 @beabamboo @yiz5uo @ilikeyyouverymuch @hauntedodette @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @rosekeu @grimm3r @m4y4wasnthere @eyes4bkg @ghostsoapwhore @sunootzrose @ilovemushroomss

[the-original-skipps]

|| S𝐮𝐨 H𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 G𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧. || Depraved!Suo Hayato x CluelessFem!Reader || Wind Breaker ||

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:13

PLAY!

due to the "yes" winning the poll I have decided to post however, if you said "no" you may scroll past and completely ignore this : i've never written dark content before so this is a first trying to branch out into new things also depraved is a fancy word for yandere perv lol also hes aged up here and he and reader are the same age

CW: 18+ content, dark content, yandereness, sexual content, non-consensual, use of drugs.

18+ only minors do not interact

❥ Suo Hayato is a gentleman that is what his friends and the people around him would and will say. He’s a loyal friend and is always ready to lend a hand when you’re in trouble. Is what he wants you to believe but behind that kind smile lies thoughts and intentions you would have never thought a man like him to have.

❥ You’re such a naive little thing is the thought that often crosses Suo’s mind. Like unsuspecting prey, you have no idea what kind of thoughts a predator like him has for you. Who so easily believes anything he says as you look at him with those innocent doe eyes. You shouldn’t look at him like that, the urge to ruin you only gets stronger.

❥ You would think that Suo barely uses his phone but in fact you just never catch him when he does. His phone's gallery is filled with pictures of you, the pictures you posted online to the unexpecting shots he's taken of you. These pictures help him fuel the daydreams he has of you, especially late at night.

❥ You don't realize but Suo likes to take his eyes all over your body. From your tight blouse where the outline of your bra is present or how your skirt peaks a little to show your supple ass has him running wild with impure thoughts. Are you testing his restraint with how you choose to dress or are you just asking him to do as he pleases with you?

❥ Suo always likes to stand behind you not only does he get a good view, he also gets to take in your scent. He’ll casually compliment on how good you smell, asking for the perfume brand that maybe his mother would like. It’s an innocent question, of course you'd happily answer. However, his true intentions are to buy the exact same shampoo or perfume as you.

❥ Cause he’ll spray that perfume on his pillow and his clothes. It's as if you were just with him. His pillow as he hugs it tight, imagining that it’s you that he hugs you from behind- his hips rutting, his hard erection pressed against your ass. As he licks your ear and whispers, teasing you on how needy you are. Red faced, as you whimper and plead with him to put it in.

“Tell me, how badly you want me.”

“P-Please, Hayato…!”

❥ Just the thought of you whimpering his name with desperation almost has him cumming. As he strokes his cock with the exact same underwear he managed to steal when he was at your place under the guise of bringing some new tea over for you to taste. It was so easy to excuse himself to the bathroom to look into your laundry basket, not to look for the freshly washed ones but the ones you just used.

❥ As mentioned above, Suo likes to come over to your place with some excuse of having new tea or dessert for you to try. It's adorable how you can't deny him. So he takes the opportunity to slip in something that has you yawning, difficult to keep your eyes open. Suo the sweet talker that he is will coax you to take a short nap on the coach.

❥ Once he knows you’re deep asleep, he'll straddle you-but hovering to not put his weight on you. He will get real close to lovingly admiring you as he traces his hand around your vulnerable body. Unbuttoning your shirt, as he presses soft kisses on your neck and chest. Before, the strong urge to mark you takes over. He'll lick the spot he chooses, before pressing his lips-to suck on your skin until a red blotch remains. Suo will do this until your whole neck and chest are covered in his marks. Once you'll wake up you'll find your head on his lap, as he looks at you innocently-stroking your hair like nothing happened.

❥ You're confused, as you find yourself covered in this red - some borderline purple bruises around your neck and chest area, even touching them seems to hurt. Worried you consult your close friend Suo on what to do. Maybe he will offer a solution to your problem. Suo had to bite back a grin as you asked him about these strange wounds that appeared out of nowhere. As a reliable friend that he is of course he has some medication at home that might help. So, he invites you to come over.

❥ Now you sit in front of him shirt unbuttoned as he hungrily observes admires these strange wounds. His strong gaze has you flushing in embarrassment-flinching every time the cold ointment on his fingers traces a mark. Every squeak and whimper awakes a certain darkness in him, that wants to pin you down as you writhe helplessly against him. How effortless would it be for him to just take you now but he doesn't.

❥As he waves goodbye to you from his front door he thinks to himself that you don't have to leave, you're more than welcome to stay here. His parents are barely home anyway, they won’t mind. Suo promises he'll take good care of you but that is all in due time. Maybe one day but right now he's enjoying the hunt.

❥ It's hard to imagine him like this isn’t it? They're nothing more than simple actions of a friend with no hidden intentions. Because Suo Hayato is a gentleman and is your dearest friend, or so that’s what he wants you to believe. 

[savyindeepspace]

Being There for Them After a Nightmare

Description: all of their pasts haunt them, forgetting that they always wake up next to you.

Tags: angst (sorry), nightmares, fluff , all LIs mentioned

————————————————————

Zayne❄️:

Adorned in all black, Dawn Breaker held you in his arms. Your body was coiled in frozen branches with thorns made of ice. Each of them puncturing your skin like needles, bleeding you dry from hundreds of small lesions. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, a black shard of ice burst through your chest. You gasped for breath, clawing at Dawn Breaker’s sleeve, coughing up pools of crimson. As the light faded from your eyes, glassy orbs turning matte, you utter a final, “w-why?” A second voice echoed in his ears—Astra, “look at what you’ve done, you will never protect her.” The combined voices tangled around his mind, slicing into the pink matter like butcher’s twine. Zayne’s body catapulted forward, breathing harshly, body dampened from a cold sweat. When he looked beside him, there you lied, chest rising and falling softly, face blissfully calm. His hands shook as he touched you, tucking loose tendrils of hair behind your ear. The light touch made your body stir, eyes flutter and a quiet hum fell from your lips. When your gazes met, Zayne looked at you with a mixture of relief and guilt. “What’s wrong?,” you murmured, taking his hand and curling it against your chest. A gasp broke from your lips, “Zayne, baby, you’re freezing…,” it was then that you noticed small, floating snowflakes and the ice crawling up his forearm and neck. He recoiled his arm, “did I…hurt you?,” he rasped shamefully, feeling akin to a monster. You cupped his face, smoothing over his cheek with your thumb, “no…you never have.” Zayne nuzzled into your palm, pursing a faint kiss to the skin. He pulled you into his embrace, absorbing your tender and forgiving warmth, “I’m sorry…” You didn’t respond at first, but you held him tighter, tracing comforting patterns on his back. “I know you’d never harm me, please don’t believe that voice. He’s wrong.” His body fell slack in your arms from exhaustion and relief. Your bodies melded together, limbs twisted like tree roots. Grounded and unharmed.

Sylus🐦‍⬛:

The beast ensnared you in his arms, squeezing the breath from your aching lungs. “Did you forget what I truly am? You are nothing…nothing but a mortal with a soul fit to feed a fiend.” His voice roared violently, shaking the dark cathedral around you. Your eyes welled with fearful tears, accepting the fate of the dragon’s hunger. Sylus brought his hanging maw to your neck, sinking teeth that felt like knives into your throat. His jaw locked and warm blood spilled from his lips. Your soul floated above your limp body and was caught in the dragon’s fangs, devoured whole with not a scrap left behind. You felt a heavy weight against your back and arms roped around your frame. Sylus’s breath left in shaky huffs, warming the back of your neck. He was trapped in a world you didn’t know—or better yet remember. He couldn’t escape, his body fought endlessly to wake up, but his eyes wouldn’t open. “Sylus? Sylus!,” you shook his shoulders, frantically trying to pull him from the dark abyss that clung to him like thick tar. He groaned, sweat rolling down his temples, face screwed tightly in pain. “Please, my love, wake up…,” you pleaded, lightly stroking his cheeks. Finally, he broke free, grasping for you like you were already gone, “you–you’re here.” Sylus traced the planes of your neck with his fingers, searching for nonexistent wounds. “Yes…I’m right here. I won’t leave you,” you soothed, placing his hand on your heart. It beat healthily against his warm palm, he shuddered, letting his bloodshot eyes close. Your fingers tangled in the silver strands at Sylus’s nape, pulling his ear to your lips, “I promise, I won’t leave you.” He released an exasperated sigh, sinking into the mattress, pulling you flush to his chest. “Thank you, my beloved.”

Caleb🍎:

The metal exam table was cold against your back. Your frail body was bruised and battered, a trail of dried blood left under your nose. All you could hear was the faint beeping of diagnostic imaging equipment, your skin heavily decorated with wires. What experiment number was this? 500, 600? You lost count. A young Caleb stood outside the thick glass, pounding the barrier with his tiny fists. How could these researchers torture such small children? “Please, please stop! You’re hurting her!,” he wailed, tears streaming down his red cheeks. His wrists were restrained and he fought as two scientists pulled him away from your view. The glass fogged over, hiding their crimes from Caleb’s amethyst eyes. His heart dropped when he heard it, the flatline alarm blaring behind steel doors. You were gone, he couldn’t save you, couldn’t protect you. “No!….no.” When his eyes split open, the room was dark, every light blocked by the shades that covered the floor length windows. His head fell into his hands as he collapsed against the headboard. “Caleb?,” your soft voice wrapped his ears in silk. A relieved breath escaped him and he brought your hand to his lips, gently kissing your fingertips. “I’m fine pips—,” “you don’t always need to be so brave, I want to be there for you.” Words caught in his throat, mouth parted but unable to speak. You crawled into his lap, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his brow, “look at me, promise me you’ll let me take care of you.” His expression softened, “I…I promise.” You laid your head on his shoulder, fingers fisting the fabric of his pajama shirt, “it’s my turn to protect you this time.”

Rafayel🐚:

“No…no our bond cannot be broken, please!,” Rafayel pleaded, yanking his arm to his chest to prevent himself from forcing the blade through your heart. The pull of your words coiled around his wrist, a curse rather than fate. You selfishly wanted to protect your Sea God by taking your own life. His eyes begged for you to let go, to release him from participation in this cruel act. Swiftly, like wind through a ship’s sails, the dagger plunged through your ribs. A breath caught in the merman’s throat, your body slumped lifelessly in his embrace. “You…you cannot leave me. I won’t allow it. For a Sea God not need his heart,” he sobbed, holding you as close as gravity would allow. Waves gently rocked around you, the warmth slowly left your skin. Your form dissolved, bursting into orbs that glowed with golden light. As you laid on Rafayel’s chest, sleep abandoned you from the sound of gentle sobs. “Raf, w-what happened? Are you alright?,” he rolled over, boring into you with red rings around his sunset eyes, long eyelashes wet. The artist’s hand trailed down your jaw to your neck, landing on your chest. No wound, no scar, just soft, bare skin beneath his shaking palm. He shuddered, burying his face into your shoulder, “I thought I lost you again…” Your heart strained, you pulled him in, feeling warm tears falling like delicate pearls against your skin. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, I won’t do it again,” you soothed. He lifted his gaze “stay by my side forever, my beloved bride,” his voice barely a murmur. You rolled him back on his pillow, stroking his tear stained cheek, “I promise…”

Xavier⭐️:

Xavier ran through an endless forest, weighed down by his armor and sword. The Prince of Philos moved like a comet through a blackened sky, but it was too late. His queen, whom he swore to return to—to protect, was already chosen as a sacrifice. Her unique ability, her power, her heart—a perfect meal for an insatiable planet that begged to feast. Why? Why her and why now? He burst through the large castle doors, cerulean eyes locked on your gaze. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at anyone who stood in his path. “Xavier—,” you gasped. “You are too late, Star Prince, she is fated to feed our home planet.” His eyes stung and blood ran hot, “Wait—!” A black hole filled the room and your body was suspended before the gaping abyss. “Forgive me…,” you mouthed before you were fully absorbed by darkness. It was deadly quiet. Xavier fell to his knees, the echo of his light blade against the marble floor rang throughout the throne room. The edge of the mattress sank, Xavier’s elbows dug into his knees, head hanging. You rolled over, awakening when the space beside you was empty, “honey?” Your voice stung at first, then healed him like balm. “It should have been me, if I had just made it in time…,” he whispered. You wrapped yourself around him, nuzzling into his back, “what do you mean, love?” His hands layered over yours, “I…nothing. Just a dream,” he reassured. You pursed a kiss between his shoulder blades, “you did nothing wrong,” this wasn’t the first night he was plagued with this nightmare and you took note of it. Xavier talked in his sleep, voice raw with grief. “Xavi…come back to sleep.” A soft hum emanated from his lips, exhaustion in his breath. You watched his heavy lids finally close, planting a kiss to his jaw. “Good night, my fair prince.”

*~*~*~*~

writers note: thank you so much for reading! :) Please do not steal or repost. More LADs Fics are pinned on my profile.

[dinogoofymutated]

Wolverine/Fem!Reader - Masterlist link

You've met Logan Howlett in every life you've lived since the 1900s. And in every lifetime, fate rips you from him just as cruelly as it forces the two of you to meet. How many lives will it take for the two of you to finally have your happily ever after?

General TWs: Reincarnation, death, Major character death (multiple times), Angst with a happy ending. Controlling familiail behavior, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of war, descriptions of violence/death, childhood trauma. Possible historical inaccuracies.

Here's the first chapter!! I waassss gonna wait until I finished part two and post both at once but TBH I was desperate to get this out! I hope yall enjoy this, and I would like to remind everyone that I am not a nurse or any kind of medical personnel, and I kinda struggled to find out about the procedures of ww1 nurses, so take most of the nurse stuff with a grain of salt! like watching a dumbed down version of grey's anatomy lol. I'd also like to say that I decided to make Logan's healing factor slower during ww1 and ww2, as he hadn't gone through the Weapon X program yet. Chapter TWs: Blood, injury, childhood injuries in the prologue scene, war n shit, ww1 canada is a tw on it's own.

     October 22, 1900.

    “Andy!!”  Your brother rolls his eyes at the sound of your high-pitched voice calling his name, turning around with a frown. He always had been faster than you, and today was no different. He had gone running into the woods when your mother had called the two of you in for lunch, and ever the devoted little sister, you had chased after him before she could notice what the two of you were doing. You’re panting when you finally catch up to him, your skirts scrunched up in your fists as you try your best to keep them from catching on bushes and vines.

    “Where are you going? Mama’s calling us for lunch!” Neither of you was supposed to be on this side of the woods, past the fence that marked your family’s property. It made you nervous to be so far past the boundary. Your older brother scoffs at you, turning away once again as he continues to march further. 

    “Father told me that he had set bear traps out to keep the animals away from the house. I’m going to see if he’s caught anything.” Andrew says stubbornly. You rush ahead to try and keep up with him, staying close and looking around anxiously. You never had been a rule breaker, and this was just a little more adventurous than you were comfortable with.

    “Bears? You don’t think we’ll find any, do you? I don't want to see anything be hurt.” You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Your brother laughs at you, the same way did the time you brought some a dying bird, or the time you had begged father to spare the rabbit that had been digging in the garden. He never understood why you were so soft-hearted.

    “You’re going to need to be more brave if you’re going to be an adult one day. Cowards get killed.” Andrews teases, cackling wickedly as he steps on a branch and the sound of it snapping causes you to flinch and cry out, rushing forward to grab hold of his arm.

    “That’s not true!” You cry. 

    “Yeah, it is!” Andrew argues. There’s a bit of a ditch in front of the two of you, and he shakes you off before he hops down. He holds his hand out to help you navigate the drop, and you take it eagerly as you carefully get down, making sure not to dirty your skirts any more than they had been. 

    “No, it’s not! It’s not true! It’s not true because I have you, remember? Big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters!” You persist once you’re finished. Andrew sighs again, but you don’t doubt his answer for a second. He rolls his eyes at you before he begins to walk on.

    “Of course I am. But you can’t expect me to get to you every time.” Andrew says. You’re about to refute that when the two of you hear a rustling in the bushes up ahead. Andrew holds out a hand to keep you behind him, stopping both of you in your tracks. The birds have stopped singing, and you know that it means something scary is about to happen. Dad calls it a bad oh-men or something along those lines, but you didn’t usually listen to him. Now you’re starting to wish you had.

    “Stay here. I think I hear something up ahead.” Andrew whispers to you. You try to grab for his arms as he leaves you, but he’s too far away, and you find your feet rooted to the spot. You’re too scared to move, holding your hands anxiously as you watch Andrew begin to stumble through the bushes cautiously. You don’t like this. You don’t like it at all. You can only see his head through once he’s through the thick of it, and you hear him huff in disappointment when he doesn’t find anything on the other side.

    “Never mind. There’s not even-” There’s a sound of a mechanical snap before Andrew falls to the ground with a scream. 

    “Andy!” You cry out, immediately bolting through the bush. Branches and briars get caught on your skirt and tear at your skin as you push through to get to him. Your brother is shouting and grunting in pain when you see him, tears dotting his eyes as he stares down at the sight of his ankle caught firmly between the teeth of a bear trap.

    “Stupid trap!” He cries out, his hands shaking from adrenaline. You don’t know what to do, standing frozen at the bloody sight before you, mind going back and forth between whether or not you should go to your brother or run home to get your parents.

     “Help me get it off!” Andrew shouts, and it’s enough to finally bring you back to the situation. You can only nod frantically as you kneel by his side. Hands shaking as you help your brother try and open the trap and get it off of him. The metal digs into your fingers as you try to pry it open, your brother grunting and crying with the effort to do so. You can only think of what your parents will say, what Andrew will do. What if it got infected? What if he lost his foot completely? You realize you’re crying as you and Andrew try with all your might to pull the trap open, grip beginning to slip on the contraption right as Andrew tugs his leg out of the trap. It snaps closed violently after, barely missing both of your fingertips as Andrew rolls away from it.

    “What- What do we do? Andy?” You ask, unable to do much but stare as your brother writes in pain. It’s all happening so fast, but god did everything feel so slow. Andrew manages to make out something about stopping the bleeding, and you’re right on it as you press your small hands to the bloody, mangled, flesh. You squeeze tightly as you pray and pray and pray for him to stop bleeding, shutting your eyes tightly as you sob and cry and wish you could do something, anything more to help your big brother.

    There’s a buzzy feeling in your hands, like pins and needles without the pain. You don’t see it happening as you sit there and bawl for your brother, his warm blood on your hands all you can manage to feel in the moment. The blood begins to slow, and slow, and you don't even realize it has stopped until everything seems to be just as quiet as before. You realize that Andrew isn’t crying anymore, and find yourself brave enough to cautiously open your eyes.

    To your surprise, you don’t see anything. 

    All there is is Andrew’s blood staining his ripped pants and both of your hands- but the strangest part of all was that there was no more wound. Not even a bruise remained of the bone-deep cuts that had been there just a moment before. Your tears begin to dry up as your eyebrows furrow, still hiccuping as you look on at the scene in confusion. When you look up at your brother, he’s wide-eyed. Staring at you in complete shock.

    “Was that you that did that?”  He asks. You don’t know what to say. You don't know. You begin to notice a soreness in your leg as the two of you sit there, simply staring at each other in shock. Eventually, Andrew swallows, before he tries to stand up, doing so effortlessly and without pain. He stretches and flexes his leg, moving it back and forth like his brain is still playing catch up. You try to follow his lead, only to cry out in pain and stumble. There's a deep purple bruise circling your leg when you raise your skirt, one that perfectly mimicked the bloody hole in Andrew’s pants where his own wound once had been.

    He carried you back home that day.

    The Great War began on July 28th, 1914. The archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated, thus causing a series of events that spiraled into the worst war that the world had ever seen until that point. Your brother was quickly whisked away into the battle once the fight had started. He quickly advanced through the ranks, his ever-present charm and intelligence being a boon to him, and an asset to many others. He had always been the fighter. Your bother Andrew, your protector, and keeper of your secrets, now a general in the Canadian army. You could hardly believe it. 

    You, on the other hand, had begun to educate yourself at your brother’s behest. You became a nurse, finding yourself drawn to the field in the absence of the many men who had left mainland hospitals to go to war. You loved it. You loved helping people heal and survive, thrive even, but even so, you had become rather secretive about your natural gifts. Andrew, as supportive as he was, knew that the world would never accept powers like yours. As guilty as you felt every time a patient had slipped through the doctor’s fingers, you knew better. Your healing abilities took from you a fraction of what it gave to others, and using it was just not possible in large doses. You knew that and knew to listen to your brother’s warnings. Still, it did not stop you completely. Healing a wound or broken bone now and then in the shadows, where there was no one there to see. Miracles became your specialty, but your medical knowledge had become your backbone.

    At the end of April, you were surprised to receive a letter from your brother, the contents of it being a plea for you to join him in the war efforts. They needed nurses, trained, knowledgeable, nurses. You would be by his side as much as possible, but you were needed across the sea. And well, if it was your brother asking, who were you to refuse?

Novemver 2nd, 1917

    "You are to keep your medical supplies cleanly and well maintained. I understand that you aren't exactly green in this line of work, but let me tell you, you haven't seen war yet." The senior nurse in front of you has no time for fools, you have only known her for a moment, and yet you know this for a fact. Her pace is fast and purposeful. Her skirt is muddied and stained, and yet her boots do not seem to sink or stick in the mud like yours do as you try your best to keep up with her. Nurse Mary is strict in personality and pace, and you're careful to follow directly behind her throughout the busy encampment. 

Everyone seems to have something urgent to attend to, soldiers and nurses and medics alike all running about through the mud and dirt. There are many hospital tents, many more than you had originally anticipated. You begin to realize exactly why your brother had been so firm in instructing you to refrain from assisting any wounded beyond what help lies within sutures and gauze. 

    “How often do the wounded arrive?” You ask, following her into a rather large hospital tent and passing by various cots with wounded men.

    “You should expect them to arrive every day. The wounded are many, but the dead are more, god rest their souls.”  She tells you, one of her hands clutching the cross around her neck for a moment. There are many things you have learned throughout your schooling, and many gruesome sights you know to expect, but the one thing that still gave you chills was the death toll. You try not to think about it too hard, knowing that it’s just the truth of war that good men go to die. But that doesn’t mean you will ever be forced to be comfortable with it. You pass many rows of wounded soldiers as you follow her through, many being gravely injured with missing and mangled limbs, and shrapnel in places where it should never be. You keep your bedside manner in check, but you know half of those men won’t make it through the night.

    “We should be grateful for the men who return to our care, but please keep in mind that we are the only buffer between them and god. You must understand that losing these men isn’t an if, it’s a when.” You nod solemnly in response to her, quelling the anxiety in your heart. You knew very well that she was right. You casually look around the hospital tent, doing your best to help familiarise yourself with the surroundings when a puff of smoke catches your eye.

    You don’t know where to laugh or scold the man, brown eyes meeting your own as he quickly tries to hide the cigar. Nurse Mary clearly had not seen him, but you certainly did. You can’t help but smile in a baffled sort of way, and the soldier- the quite handsome soldier- smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you. You try not to laugh, choosing to simply shake your head instead of pointing it out to Nurse Mary. It’s something he clearly appreciates, and he tips his head at you, winking as you finally pass him by. You hope you’re not blushing, quickly looking away from him with a smile on your face that you couldn’t fight off.

    “Are you paying attention, Miss? Your brother spoke very highly of your skills, it would be a shame if it were all to be lies.” The nurse ahead of you says, a strict tone in her voice. It almost startles you, bringing you back to earth after the solid minute of distraction the brown-eyed soldier had caused. 

    “I- yes. I apologize. Please, continue.” You reply quickly. You can tell she’s not quite convinced but doesn’t have the time to care, reminding you that there would be little to no time to dally once you had been given decent instruction about the facilities. You’re eager to get to work, and decide that there would be no more distractions today- no matter how charming or handsome they seem to be.

—-

    You were assigned work the moment your walkthrough had been conducted. No downtime, no breaks. You wonder if you truly had any idea how bad things would be where you got here. Seeing the wounded was one thing, but reading their chart was another. You felt detached as you conducted physicals, changed bandages, and redressed wounds and cuts. You checked for infections in those with amputated limbs, knowing that death would soon come for those who were so unfortunate. The difference between any of the men was astounding- wounds from this war unlike any that you had ever seen before. You had heard of the new weapons, the horrors that geniuses had developed so that others would die. It pains you that someone could be so ignorant and cruel- and yet even you hope that you would never have to face those instruments of war.

   Out of all the strange and unusual wounds and war-torn soldiers you met on that day, there was only one who you remembered in truly remarkable detail.

    You see the puff of smoke before you see him, lounging on the backboard of his hospital cot without a care in the world. Besides some old bandages on his chest, you can tell that he’s not in any pain. To be honest, you start to wonder if he belongs in this infirmary at all. He’s distracted, cigar held up to his lips as he takes a deep inhale of the smoke, drowning out his senses with the nicotine. 

    “You must be feeling pretty confident to be breaking the only rule we have in here.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him. He chokes on the smoke rather suddenly, trying to recover as quickly as he can as he puts the cigar out. You give him a sweet smile, trying your best not to laugh. He smiles sort of unabashedly at you, shrugging. 

    “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.” He coughs. You shake your head at him, lifting some papers on your clipboard before you find the one assigned to his cot. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his list of past injuries and causes of infirmary visits. How is this man even alive?

    “Logan Howlett, I presume? You’re pretty perky for a man who has such a long list of injuries.” You state, still reading it through. You’ve never seen this many on one chart before- all dating from the very start of the war to his current visit. Logan gives you a shrug of his shoulders, which isn’t exactly a response you would prefer, but he smiles at you in a charming sort of way that makes your heart flutter. 

    “They call me Lucky Logan for a reason,” Logan hums- causing you to huff a laugh. You shake your head at him, setting the clipboard down on the edge of the bed before you begin conducting a physical and checking on his “wounds.”- not that there really was any besides an odd, yellowed bruise or two that you could almost swear seemed to be lightening by the minute.

    “ ‘You new here?” You glance up at him at the sound of his voice, smiling a bit out of politeness.

   “Why, Is it that easy to tell?” You ask, knowing that he certainly knew so due to him seeing you earlier, but you wonder for a moment if you seemed to be any different from the other nurses. You always strived to be good at what you do, but part of you had a tendency to worry if you could keep up with the others here.

    “Nah,” He says, bluntly. “I just think I’d remember if I had seen a pretty nurse like you before.”  The words make you gape for a moment, that smile still showing as you shake your head at him and try not to laugh. He was a flirt- a rather smooth one too. 

    “Do you use that line on all the ladies?” You tease as you pull out your stethoscope to listen to his heart. You listen, and besides the fact that his heart rate is a little faster than the regular average, you don’t seem to notice anything too strange.

    “Only the ones as pretty as you.” He says. You don’t hold back your laugh at that, and his genuine smile is definitely contagious. You check his eyesight and overall mobility one more time once you’re done, trying not to blush at the way he’s looking at you. You feel his gaze even when you step away to write on his chart, finishing things up.

    “Well, Mr. Howlett, you seem to have a perfect bill of health,” Logan perks up a bit at that, moving to where he can sit on the side of the cot, his feet on the ground. “...but I can’t completely release you just yet. You’re free to wander around some, but you’ll have to wait for the doc to give you one last look-over before you can go back to the frontlines.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, frowning for only a minute before he stands, winking at you as he grabs his shirt from underneath the cot- the bloodied one they wheeled him in here with, no doubt, and puts it on.

    “If that means I’ll be seeing you more often, I’ll take it.” He flirts. You laugh, knowing that you very well might have swooned if you had been any greener to this line of work. Instead, all you can really do is cringe at the sight of his shirt and lean down to the small table to his right, the one where his chart had been, and open the drawer, revealing a freshly clean set of clothes. 

    “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Smokey.” You joke, finding his surprised face rather endearing. It only takes a moment before he’s smirking again, taking the clothes from you and doing a mock toast to you with the cloth. You shake your head at him, trying to keep your smile contained as you walk away from him and over to your next patient.

    You find yourself thinking about him throughout the day, both delighted and somewhat frustrated at yourself for swooning so easily over a soldier- on your first day, too. You had told yourself when you took this job that you would never do such a thing, knowing that so many romances in a time like this end in tragedy- but you certainly couldn’t seem to help it. You think about him when the other nurses talk about their personal soldiers, out there fighting the war, and think about him again before you go to bed. It was frustrating! You met a man and knew him a whole ten minutes before swooning like a schoolgirl. You suppose it felt nice to be wanted nonetheless and felt nice to be complemented by someone you found so handsome… But you didn’t need to be thinking so hard about this right now anyway. You roll over onto your side in your bed, hoping to fall asleep soon instead of spending time thinking about something that won’t happen.

    Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell that your brother would ever approve of any relationship you had with a soldier. You were sure that if he had his way, you would die as a spinster- forever reliant on the family. Your dreams that night are more like nightmares, dreaming of faces and growing old and rocking in a chair alone in your brother’s house, a burden to his finances, his wife, and children. But then there are some dreams where you see the face of one particular soldier, and wonder why you felt so compelled by him.

[emakataken]

Part Two

Pairing: Sal/Buck/Tommy

Part 1

----

Sal stepped out of the locker room and almost ran straight into Tommy.

The hallway was dim, lights low, most of the station already turned in for the night. Tommy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, one foot propped flat against the tile. He didn’t say anything at first.

Just looked at him, Sal held his stare. Tommy’s eyes flicked past him, toward the locker room door, then back.

So we’re really doing this?

He didn’t speak the words. He didn’t have to. At Sal’s nod, Tommy exhaled through his nose, tension rippled across his shoulders, but then he gave a single, sharp nod in return.

Alright.

No fist bump. No back clap. No promise spoken out loud. Just two firefighters, choosing a kid neither of them had expected to matter.

Sal started to walk past him, but Tommy’s voice stopped him. “I wrote up the report earlier, Dennis attached the audio file. Sent it in.”

Sal paused, lip curling upward as pride surged through him.

“What Gerrard said about Hen was disgraceful,” Tommy added, voice steady. “And I filed a second one. About the hazing. It’s time someone did.”

Sal nodded. “I’m gonna make a smoothie. Want one?”

"Yeah, give me ten, gotta shower and hey make one for the kid." Tommy waited a second longer, then pushed off the wall and stepped inside.

Buck was still there, rooted by the bench, shoulders tight.

Tommy didn’t say anything. Just reached out and tapped his fingers once against the back of Buck’s arm as he passed, light as a nudge. He kept walking, letting trust be laid down one action at a time.

Tommy stepped out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling around him in the hazy light. He froze for just a second, eyes landing on Buck’s back.

The kid stood across the room, toweling off, turned slightly toward his locker.

The scars caught the fluorescent light.

Shrapnel, unmistakable. Twisting up from his right hip, curling across his ribs, branching out over his stomach and back in angry pink and white. Beneath it all, ghosted into his back, were the faded remains of belt marks.

Buck, unaware, tugged his compression shirt down over his torso in one clean motion, dragging it into place. He ran a hand through his damp hair and grabbed for his pants.

Tommy waited, stepping back into the shower stalls. He gave it a solid minute, just standing there with his jaw tight, before moving again. He stepped into view, “Yo, Probie,” he called, voice light. “Sal’s making smoothies. You’re not gonna want to miss out.”

Buck glanced over, blinking like he’d forgotten anyone else was there. Then nodded, fast, like always, big grin splitting across his face. “Yeah, okay, cool.”

The kitchen was dim, only one light on above the stove.

Sal moved with lazy efficiency that came from years of half-asleep cooking. The blender whirring low as he added protein powder, banana, oats, a splash of almond milk. Tommy leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a glass of water in hand.

Buck sat at the table, wearing a t-shirt that might have once been black but had faded to soft charcoal. His skin was pink from the heat of the water, and there was a drowsy kind of softness to him now, looser, the exhaustion finally dragging him down to earth.

His eyes tracked Sal and Tommy's conversation like a dog waiting for scraps, hopeful, too alert for someone who hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours in the past two days.

“So you’re telling me,” Buck said, half-laughing, a hand loosely curled around his smoothie glass, “you set fire to your toaster trying to make a grilled cheese?”

Tommy didn’t look up from peeling a banana. “I was twenty-one and I tripped the breaker. Sal lost his mind. Thought I gonna burn down the entire base apartment.”

“I did not lose my mind,” Sal muttered, back to the counter as he poured. “I calmly responded to the smell of melting plastic and an electrical outlet making popping sounds.”

Tommy gestured toward Buck without turning. “Don’t let him near a grill, either. He’s got a vendetta against propane.”

“I’ve never set fire to anything,” Buck said, grinning, fingers tapping absently against the table. “I’m becoming a pretty decent cook, gotta love YouTube. There’s this little old lady, real sweet, wears these giant glasses, anyways she taught me how to make a whole roast chicken."

Sal set a peanut butter sandwich in front of him, shaking his head. “God help us all. Drink, eat, Probie.”

Buck obeyed, taking a long pull. He hummed approvingly. “This is actually really good.”

Sal leaned back against the counter, towel still slung over one shoulder. “Also, Gerrard asked me to get your emergency contact info. You know, who to call if you’re unconscious.”

Buck faltered mid-sip. “Oh.” His brow furrowed, a wrinkle forming between his eyes. “I guess, umm.” He shrugged, shoulders curling inward. “Do I have to have one?”

Tommy’s eyebrow slowly lifted.

Sal didn’t move. “You live in a house with six dudes. Some you don't even know their names. I’m not calling one of them.”

Buck scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not a big deal. I just… I don’t really have anyone. Not for that. I got a sister, Maddie, but I haven’t seen her since Danny’s funeral…” He wrinkled his nose, "and I was like ten. And I think she lives on the other side of the country.”

Tommy pushed off the counter. “That all you got?”

Buck gave him a lopsided shrug. “I usually write down my own number.”

Sal blinked. “That’s not how that works, kid.”

“I know,” Buck said, soft. “But it makes it look like I filled it out.”

There was a silence that followed, not uncomfortable, not angry. Just quiet. Like the kind you only get at midnight, with the fridge humming and the world outside finally quiet.

Then Sal reached into the junk drawer, pulled out a pen and an old sticky note, and slid it across the table. “My number, you can list me.”

Tommy added. “Mine, too.” He plucked the pen from Sal and added his own number to the yellow note.

Buck blinked. Looked between them.

Sal raised an eyebrow, thumb bouncing lazily between himself and Tommy. “Alright kid, pick your emergency daddy.”

That earned a real laugh, startled and shaky. “Jesus Christ.”

“Language,” Sal said, smirking over the rim of his glass.

Tommy shot him a look, one brow lifted at the boldness. Then his eyes slid to Buck dazed, blinking like the joke hadn’t quite landed, or maybe had landed a little too hard.”

His gaze went to Sal who gave him a grin. Tommy rolled his eyes, voice dropping with warning, “Sal.”

Buck blinked, still catching up, “Wait, do I get a third option? Like… emergency cousin or something?”

Sal snorted. “It’s us or one of the six guys whose names you don’t know. Your call, Probie.”

Tommy reached for the peanut butter dipping a disposable knife into the container. “Just list us both. Let the nurse figure it out.”

Buck grinned, the curve of it soft and a little too honest. “That’s the most family drama I’ve had since I ended up in foster care."

Sal’s smirk faded, not completely, but enough for the warmth in his eyes to sharpen with understanding.

Tommy stilled, his hand halfway to the bread.

Buck blinked, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Sorry, that was dark,” he murmured as he ducked his head.

“Nah,” Sal said, voice low but even. “It was honest.”

Tommy picked up Buck’s empty plate. “Hit the rack, kid. I’ll clean up."

Part 3

[missedloveletter]

🖤 •WIND BREAKER BOYS•🖤

Summary:how you met the lovely boys

Characters:Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, suo hayato

Warnings:bullying/harassment(nothing really happens don't worry pookie)

These will be a bit long🖤

(this is my first time writing so keep that in mind along with characters being ooc ishhh)

Suo hayato <3

You were on your way to the convenience store as the sun started to seep into the horizon.It was starting to fall dark.you know it was risky to get a snack at this hour,but you just couldn't resist the new flavor that released of your favorite drink and the wrapper came out with a new cute design.so your here, speed walking for your life to the closest convenience store being lead by the glowing sign illuminating your way.you swing open the door and bask in the blinding light of the cool store.you weave your way through the aisles grabbing all you beloved snacks with there new cute wrappers.As you make your way to the check out theres a voice,"what's a cutie doing out so late it's not sa-" and on instinct you raise the small basket you held all your snacks in and swung at the voice cutting the voice off".

The basket's contents fell to the floor .The hand of the voice that spoke gently stopped the basket from smacking his face.you met his eyes as he gave you a polite smile."That's not very nice...but I suppose I snuck up on you.you got quite the swing there".

you feel like you've seen this boy somewhere but it just wasn't clicking...huh....your eyes soon met the black green jacket of bofurin...oh...OH."Im Sooo sorry I thought you were A creeper".

your words come out in a jumbled mess as you look over the boy for any injuries gently grabbing his shoulder to look him over.Suo's eyes widen slightly at you touch...gentle as your eyes scan over him with genuine concern .He grabs your hands lowering them from his shoulders smiling at you once more, but this time it's warmer somehow.

"It's alright you didn't hurt me,but I can't say the same for the snacks". In unison you two looked at the floor with the snacks sprawled along it, drinks we're opened as their contents decorated the tills.

You find yourself deflated from the lack of snacks and the messy floor.

.

.

.

.

You say your goodbyes and apologizes to the store owner as she was sweet enough to let you go without charge for your little accident.you sigh heavily as you see the sky was dark illuminated solely by the moon.

suo looks at you and smiles,"I can walk you home if you'll like",You look at him skeptically...

"really.... because I just slapped your face , no hesitation with my shopping basket".

He laughs"correction I stopped you before it made contact with my face and what can I say I like my girl with a little spunk".All you can do is roll your eyes.

Hajime Umemiya<3

It was beautiful like always with the surrounding trees as light flows through their branches leaving leafy patterns on the grassy ground and tent tops.

You step out into the warm sun of the farmers market.There was rows and rows of tents with various vegetables, fruit and other home made goodies for you to get your hands on.you find your way at the row of baked goods with tents displaying their loaves of bread and others various pastries as the smell dances in the air.you find your self leaving there with plenty of bread.

"I should really stick to the list grams gave me....I'm sure she wouldn't mind a sweet treat though".As you were distracted trying to remember your mental list you run to a wall. But...there shouldn't be a wall in the middle of the park.You look to see the kind eyes of a young man.

He looks down and smiles big at you with eyes all crinkled.Too cute...and bright.

This golden retriever of a man picked you up from your half standing position because of your collection."Are you ok you seem a little dazed them".

"Oh ...OH I'm so sorry I didn't see you there I'm trying to get to the produce section".

His eyes light up at your words and quickly but gently grabs your shoulder"REALLY ME TO I CAN TOTALLY TAKE YOU THERE".

And that's how you got here, tagging along on this ball of sun shines shopping trip helping you find your needed Items as well.

Haruka Sakura <3

You were on your way back from school.The warmth of the sun was refreshing compared to the cold class room you were condemned to. Everything was the same and comforting as the movement of the town was the same.A white cat scurrying across the sidewalk, the smell of baked goods from the bakery you walked passed. But as you walked past an open alley way you heard a whistle. You cringe at the sound and try to spend passed in hopes of missing the man,but he quickly bloomed from the alley griping your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going sweet?"

You felt instinct disgust with chills rolling down your body.You turn away refusing to look at the man and in the Sharpe's voice you can you say"I'm not interested, let go".

All he did was chuckle,"Now now sweet cheeks there's no need to be like that ...I'm just trying to get to know ya....why not look at me mmmm".Even with you facing away from him you catch the smell of his morning breath making you more repulsed.

But you soon see a boy walking around searching for something.You soon seen the green and black jacket of bofurin.He was kinda hard to miss with is black and white hair, you look at the guy that gripped your wrist and stocked you tongue out quickly slipping away with his surprise.

You quickly cross the street to the boy and grip his arm and quickly whisper,"Please play along".

Poor Sakura didn't even hear what you said as he was 7 shades darker than a ripe tomato as his brain stopped working once you touched him.When he finally came he was about to step away from you being a flustered blushing mess,but then he looked at the directions you came from meeting the eyes of the man....then it clicked....

He quickly stepped in front of you being a wall between you and your harasser."step aside kid, I'm trying to get to know this cutie".The man reached his arm around Sakura to grab you which was the wrong move.

Sakura as gently as he could push you back as he gripped the man's arms and with his free hand punched him square in the jaw knocking him on the floor. The man stands up fingers teasing where he was just hit,"What the hell's wrong with you!?"

The fight between them soon became a blur.one second your harasser was standing the next he was out cold unconscious on the concrete .

"thanks you....so much are you ok?"

Sakura whipped his head around probably giving him whiplash,"D-dont thank me I didn't do that for you..." Poor guys a blushing mess.

You smile,"can I take you to dinner as a thank you"?

Sakura.exe stopped working.

[feyhunter78]

Sidewalk Kisses

Art cred: mia_bobrhia

“No, so then we get to the next chapter, the one we were supposed to read before class, right? And this dumbass goes wait, who’s Ophelia again? We’re literally reading Hamlet; the book cover is that super famous painting of Ophelia, and he doesn’t even know who she is.” You rant, waving your hands wildly in frustration, recounting the drama from your last class as you and Miguel take the back way to your next classes. You’re walking down the cracked sidewalk, the large looming trees above, birds singing in their branches, it’s quiet, no one else is around.

Miguel hums in halfhearted acknowledgment, and you look over at him, slowing your pace.

“Sorry, I know I’m being dramatic, but it just pisses me off.” You say, and Miguel can see you curling in on yourself.

“Don’t apologize, I’m just enjoying listening.” He says, trying to blink himself out of the trace your beauty has put him in. “And looking at you.”

You look so pretty, your hair tied up, a few strands falling perfectly, framing your face, the sun on your skin, the flowers blooming on the trees and bushes behind you.

You give him a shy smile, looking up at him through your mascara adorned lashes. “You’re so sweet.”

It’s his turn to be shy, and he ducks his head. “It’s easy to be sweet to you, you deserve it.”

You smack his arm playfully, full on beaming at him now. “Shut up, I adore you.”

I love you. The words sit on the tip of his tongue, poised, ready for action, but he chokes them down. “Now who’s being too sweet?”

You giggle, and it’s like music, like bells, like everything he’s ever wanted to hear. He loves to hear you laugh.

Miguel wants to kiss you, but he knows once he starts, he won’t be able to stop, and you both have classes to get to.

“Yeah, yeah, but anyways, so Dr. Wrinkler is like young man she is the very reason we’re reading this book. And dumbass just says I thought we were reading Hamlet because of Hamlet. Literally starts arguing with the professor! And I’m just sitting there dumbfounded, but also happy because I didn’t actually read the chapter before class, so I don’t mind him wasting class time.” You admit, giving Miguel an impish smile.

“My girlfriend, the ever-diligent student, is secretly a rule breaker, who would’ve known?” He jokes, glancing over at you when you stop dead in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

You smile and go up on your toes, pressing your lips against his cheek. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me your girlfriend before; I like it.”

His cheeks warm and he ducks his head. “I…I like it too.”

You coo at him and smother his face with quick kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down to your height, angling your lips against his in a way that feels both romantic and wildly inappropriate. His head spins and he can’t stop a whimper from escaping when your nails graze against the nape of his neck, and your tongue traces the seam of his lips.

You smile against him, tangling your hands in his hair, manicured nails massaging his scalp, his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose a bit. He doesn’t care, you could devour him, break him into tiny pieces, melt him down, mold him into something new, whatever you want as long as you keep kissing him.

His hands go to your waist, pulling you closer, instinct taking over as he explores every inch of your mouth, the tip of his tongue running across yours, his grip tightening when he feels your breathing speed up.

You break away, breathing harshly, leaning into him like your knees are weak. “You’re um—you’re really good at that.”

“Only with you, mi dulce.” He says, and it’s not a lie, it’s the truest thing he knows. He likes kissing you, it comes naturally, everything he does you like and vice versa, there’s no wrong moves with you. “You inspire greatness in me.”

“Who knew you had such a silver tongue?” You tease, looking up at him with your pupils blown wide, your hands trailing lower, caressing his broad back.

Maybe he could convince you to skip class?

“If you would let me, I could show you more of it.” The words are honeyed, far smoother than he thought they would be, and Miguel holds his breath as he waits for your response.

Your breath catches in your throat and blink at him, stunned, flustered, lips parted in shock, or maybe anticipation? It’s an intoxicating expression, one that fuels him, fills him with courage.

“Déjame mostrarte cómo me has inspirado, mi musa, déjame arrodillarme ante ti, pintarte, tocarte, adorarte.” He whispers, drunk on your reaction, on the feeling of all your attention focused solely on him. Trsl: Let me show you how you have inspired me, my muse, let me kneel before you, paint you, touch you, worship you.

“Oh…” You breathe out, as you tilt your head subconsciously, your eyes flickering down to his lips.

He doesn’t need any other instruction, and he closes the distance, humming at the way you melt into him. He could do this forever, just you and him in the quiet of the day, sheltered by the shadow of the trees.

A sharp wolf whistle breaks you two apart.

“Damn, y/n, is that Honor Council approved?” Kelsy, one of your sisters’ calls, making you turn on your heel.

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me, Ms. Honor Council Chairman?” You call back, rolling your eyes playfully.

“It’s not, but we’re going to be late for class, so I’ll excuse it.” Kelsy says, linking her arm with yours and pulling you towards the direction of your class, casting a sympathetic look over her shoulder towards Miguel. “Sorry lover boy, gotta steal your girl, good grades and all that.”

He just nods, feeling back in that daze from before. It’s only the sight of you blowing him a kiss that breaks the trance, and he forces himself to head to his own class, the feeling of your lips on his still lingering.

I KNOW THIS ONE IS SHORT BUT I'M TRAINING THE NEW GIRL AT WORK SO I'VE HAD ZERO TIME TO WRITE + EDIT, SO THIS IS ALL I'VE GOT TILL SHE CAN STAND ON HER OWN SO SORRYYYY

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho