#but if it IS $20+ it's better than what i make now

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 9)

summary: thoughts of jack still linger, but a familiar face (and the person who's helped you get over your breakup) come to visit you and hugh - your personal trainer. meanwhile, hugh continues filming and puts on the wolverine costume for the first time. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal abuse. smut (18+, mdni) - cowgirl, unprotected p in v, oral - m receiving, dirty talk, all while hugh is in his wolverine costume, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 4k a/n: i've missed these two's personal trainer, so she's coming back and i think she's gonna be the driving force behind the reader realizing how far she's come! hope y'all enjoy, things are gonna get better... i promise. in the meantime, i've been wanting to write some smut of hugh in his wolverine costume bc i mean... how can you not??? lol. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

A week has passed since your run in with Jack. Hugh tries to act like nothing happened, act like what happened didn’t bother him, but he couldn’t help it. He was still fuming, still wanting so badly to just find Jack and finish what he started. He does notice a small shift in your behavior, but he has to wonder if you’re hiding the fact that you’re still on edge. There are still brief moments where you space out, like your mind has drifted to some other place and he has to gently take you out of it with a hand on your shoulder or a quiet call of your name. 

You snap out of it more quickly than before, but he can still see the panicked expression flickering in your eyes. 

Every night, you thank him and Hugh isn’t sure why. You thank him for being there for you, for being the safe space that you didn’t know you needed, for loving you the way you should be loved. 

And every night, Hugh watches you fall asleep and only when he sees the peaceful look on your sleeping face does he feel relaxed enough to go to sleep too. 

As the weekend approaches, Hugh has an idea to give both your personal trainer a call and invite her over for the week. He knows how important she is to you, how she has helped you overcome not only your breakup with Jack, but has helped you see just how amazing of a person you are. 

You’re in the bathroom when Hugh steps out on the patio of the hotel room to give her a call. She answers almost quickly and Hugh has to look over his shoulder to make sure that you haven’t come out yet. 

“Hugh, hey! How’s filming going?” she says enthusiastically. 

“It’s been going great,” Hugh answers, biting his lower lip. “How are things back home?” 

“Busy like always,” she laughs quietly. “I’ve been thinking about taking a vacation.”

“How about you come here?” 

“That’s not necessarily a vacation if I’m going there to work,” she chuckles. 

“I’ll pay for everything.”

“I mean, that’s only fair.”

Hugh laughs quietly then he lets out a quiet sigh. “Listen, Jack–”

“I know,” she interjects. “We’ve been talking this last week. Doesn’t sound like she’s doing that well.”

“I think she’s hiding the fact that she isn’t doing okay,” Hugh admits. “And I think if you’re here, she’d feel a lot better. You don’t even have to train either of us. Just– I think she needs someone more than me right now.”

“I’m there,” she responds immediately. “Tell me when, Hugh, and I’ll be there.” 

Hugh lets out a breath of relief. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything for you and send you the details.”

After Hugh hangs up the phone, he walks back inside the hotel room and sees you come out of the bathroom in a white robe and a towel in your hands to run through your wet hair. He sees you look up at him, a small smile on your lips as he walks over to you. His hands drop to your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“So…” he begins.

You arch a brow, tossing the dampened towel onto the bed. You stare up at him, hands now moving to rest on his chest. “What?”

“I know what happened last week is still lingering,” Hugh continues and sees your mouth open to protest, but he shakes his head. “It’s lingering for me at least, baby.” 

“Hugh…”

“Just,” he sighs. “Hear me out. I’m flying in our trainer this week. I know that she’s been with you through everything, has helped you with this and I can’t…” Hugh bites his lower lip. “As much as I wish that I can help you, I just know that I can’t.”

“But you have…”

“But it’s not enough, love,” Hugh admits. “I know that. You know that.”

“I’m sorry…” you drift your eyes downwards, staring at your feet.

“Hey,” Hugh bites his lower lip and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look back up at him. He can see the hurt in your eyes, the worry etched in your features. You’re thinking again and Hugh brushes his thumb gently across your jawline as he stares deeply into your eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize for this, for him.”

“I just wish he still didn’t have so much control over me…” 

“I know, baby,” Hugh says softly. “He hurt you for a long time,” he tightens his jaw. “So the way you’re feeling… It’s completely valid.” 

“I love you,” you tell him. “I don’t think I deserve you–”

“Okay, we’re gonna stop saying that, yeah?” Hugh says with a small smile. “I feel like the luckiest man alive that you chose me, that I get to feel your love,” he admits. “So from now on, we’re going to stop saying that… because if anyone doesn’t deserve the other person, it’s me.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to protest, but he just leans in and presses his lips firmly against yours. You melt into him, hands moving from his chest to wrap around his neck. “Don’t think that kissing me is going to prevent me from saying otherwise,” you mumble against his lips.

Hugh smiles and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Fine,” he says, pulling away slowly. “How about we say that we do deserve each other?” 

You nod, playing with the hair at his nape. “Yeah, I like that a lot more.” You lean up on your toes and gently peck his lips, feeling him lift you even further until your legs wrap around his waist and he sits on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. 

“I love you, baby,” he says, moving a hand to the knot on your robe. “And I just want you happy.”

You bite your lower lip and look down at where his hand plays with the knot at your robe, feeling his length stir beneath his shorts. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admit. “And it’s because of you.”

Hugh grins and then undoes the knot on your robe, slowly pushing it off your shoulders as he watches the fabric fall from your body. He clears his throat, your entirely exposed frame now in full view for him as his gaze darkens with lust. 

“Think we can be quick about this?” he asks hopefully, feeling you slowly roll your hips against his. Hugh’s eyes gaze down between your legs, seeing your sex slicked with your arousal. 

“I think that’s a question you should be asking yourself, baby.” Hugh grunts quietly when he feels your hands tug at his shorts and he lifts himself slightly to lower it past his legs, letting it pool around his ankles. He’s already so hard at the sight of you, his tip already leaking with his precome and when he feels your hand wrap itself around his base, he lets out a loud groan.

“Shawn and Ryan can wait a little longer,” Hugh smirks, eyes fluttering when he feels you slowly lower yourself down onto him. 

—

True to Hugh’s word, your trainer arrives on set the following week. You practically run towards her in excitement (and immense relief) when you see her. Hugh’s at his trailer, leaning against the door when he sees the big smile on your face. It’s been a while since he’s seen your smile meet your eyes, pure happiness and relief written on your expression. 

You pull away from the hug and lead her to Hugh’s trailer, seeing the both of them hug as well before he lets the both of you inside. He’s not yet dressed for today’s shoot, but you can see the blue and yellow suit hanging in the corner. Today had been a day you were looking forward to because not only was your trainer going to be here, but Hugh was finally going to put on the comically-accurate Wolverine suit for the first time in over twenty years. 

“I was thinking we can all grab dinner tonight after shooting,” Hugh suggests, hand reaching out for you. You smile in his direction and take his hand, leaning against him. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan,” your trainer says with a smile. 

“I usually leave earlier than Hugh, so after a few scenes, we can head back to the hotel and catch up,” you tell her.

“Perfect. I’ve already seen Hugh in his element, but to see you in yours? I’m excited.” 

“Oh, I’m nothing special–”

Both Hugh and your trainer look at you with an expression that tells you to stop the negative self-talk. You bite your lower lip and then shake your head, lifting your free hand in the air. 

“Okay, okay. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, after this week, it’s gonna be drilled into you,” your trainer chuckles. “Now come on, show me around set while Hugh gets ready.” 

You nod and then watch her leave the trailer before you turn to look up at Hugh, hand resting on his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Hugh smiles and pecks your lips. “I missed your smile,” he admits. 

You let out a quiet sigh and then look down at his chest, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” Hugh corrects. “I just love seeing you happy, baby.” 

“You’re perfect,” you tell him with a contented sigh. “I’m thinking I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Hugh grins broadly. “Good because you’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, you promise?” you tease.

Hugh nods, staring deeply into your eyes. “More than you know, love. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

—

You give a thorough tour of the set, but you can tell from the look on your trainer’s face that she’s waiting for you to bring up Jack, to bring up what exactly happened, and how he even came back into your life. 

You know you’ve come a long way from the first time you met her, but you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed in yourself… that all of the hard work that your trainer helped you with seems to have gone to waste at the first conversation with Jack. 

“He called me after he found out that Hugh and I were together,” you finally admit. “I’m assuming it had to do with Hugh posting a picture of us and then word got out and–” you sigh shakily. “Well, you can figure out the rest.” 

��What an asshole,” she mutters. “I’m sorry you still have to deal with him,” she says softly. 

“I just feel–” you sigh. “I feel like I’m the same woman I was when I was with him. A coward. Weak.” 

“That’s not a reflection of who you are as a person,” she replies. “You were never a coward and you were never weak.” 

“But–”

“Jack was abusive,” she says bluntly. “Verbally abusive… and he took advantage of you. And he’s still trying to do that, but there’s a big difference from the woman you were to the woman you are now.” 

“And what’s that? Because from where I’m standing, I feel like I’m back to square one.” 

She sighs. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” 

You shrug. “I just wish I never got Hugh involved.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” she corrects. “You deserve to be happy and Jack doesn’t like that. He doesn’t have a right to tell you who you are – he never did, do you understand me?” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you look at her. She had become the person to help you out of your negative thoughts and you knew that if not for her, you’d have been stuck in the same mindset that Jack made you to believe about yourself. 

“I really missed you,” you tell her, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.

“Even my workouts?” 

“Ah, maybe not that,” you tease, pulling away from her with a small smile as you wipe your tears away. 

“Well, I’m sure we can squeeze one in this week,” she winks. 

“Thank you,” you say seriously. “For being here.”

“Thank Hugh,” she chuckles. “He just wants you to be happy.”

You smile to yourself. “When you texted me telling me about having someone join in our sessions all those months ago… Did you know that we would hit it off?”

She grins mischievously. “I knew you two would hit it off, but I certainly didn’t expect you both to get together so fast.”

“Oh my god, you set us up.”

She bursts into a fit of laughter. “Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head and begin laughing with her, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, like you can finally breathe again after everything that’s happened with Jack. 

—

After a couple of hours, your trainer decides to leave for the day and get some rest at the hotel before dinner tonight. You opt to remain on set, not having had the chance to see Hugh yet. It’s lunch time for the entire cast and crew, so you walk towards his trailer and step inside, removing the camera from around your neck to set on the table. 

When you turn around to see him dressed in his full Wolverine suit, sitting on the couch with a bowl of salad, you widen your eyes and clear your throat at the sight of him. He has a big grin on his face and waves in your direction, but you can’t help but let your eyes take in his frame. 

The suit is so fitting – sculpting to his entire body, but your eyes deviate to his arms, seeing his muscles flex from beneath the suit as he takes another forkful of spinach. 

“You’re–” you bite your lower lip. “You’re wearing the suit.”

“I am,” he chuckles and sets the bowl down onto the table nearby before he stands up. 

Your eyes widen even further at the sight of him standing in his suit in front of you. You know you’re obviously ogling him, eyes lingering in certain areas and Hugh’s enjoying it. He likes the way you look at him, especially right now. You look like a woman who knows what she wants and he can see the gaze in your eyes darkening. 

“You look–” you stutter. “You look good. Like really fucking good.” 

“Is this everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” he teases, his large hand coming to rest on your waist. “You know, with Wolverine being your favorite and all.” 

The contrast of him wearing this suit and his accent is doing things to you that you never thought it would. You can feel the wetness build between your legs, the throbbing and yearning to clamp around him. You can’t even respond, your eyes moving continuously up and down his frame. He looks so big, so strong, and–

“Hello?” Hugh interrupts your thoughts, chuckling quietly. “Do you like it?” 

“Like it?” you answer, hands moving to rest on his chest as you gently shove him back down on the couch. “I fucking love it.” 

Without hesitation, you drop to your knees in front of him as your hands move up his thighs and towards the waistband of his pants. You bite your lower lip, tilting your head as you try to figure out how to remove his pants and letting out a quiet huff of impatience when you can’t seem to find the zipper or button or anything to pull it down and reveal his hardening length. 

Even beneath the fabric of his suit, you can see the length of him, stirring and hardening as you run your palm over him. 

Hugh groans, head tilting to the side as he reaches down to cup your cheek. “Baby, I don’t–”

“Help me figure out how to take these pants off.”

“Baby,” he grunts, feeling your lips press against his manhood from over the fabric of his suit. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, his length straining beneath the fabric and he groans when he feels your lips find his covered tip. 

“Hugh,” you whimper impatiently. “I need you.”

Hugh nods and then stands up in front of you, looking down at you as you remain on your knees. He expertly undoes his pants, knowing that it’s going to be just as difficult to put back on, but at the sight of you so needy and ready for him, he knows it’ll be worth it. 

Hugh then drops his pants to pool around his ankles and he’s about to sit back down when he feels your hands wrap around his base and your mouth immediately wrap itself around his tip. He groans, eyes fluttering shut as he tangles one hand in your hair and remains standing before you. 

You feel a sudden sense of gratitude wash over you, wanting to show Hugh just how grateful you are of him. How patient and thoughtful he’s been these last few weeks. You lean in further, relaxing your throat as you feel the tip of his manhood kiss the back of your throat. The hair at his base tickles your nose and you feel tears sting your eyes as you look up at him, his face contorted into pleasure. You pull back enough, his length glistening with your saliva.

“Fuck,” he growls lowly, his grip in your hair tightening even further as you continue to bob your head rapidly. It’s almost obscene the way you’re sucking him off, like you’re a starved animal and this is your first meal. Hugh can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge with each of your strokes, with each inch sliding further and further into your mouth that he has to pull back from your lips with a quiet pop!. 

Your lips are red and slightly swollen, saliva dripping just a bit at the corner of your lips. You’re staring up at him with a lustful look on your face and he’s about to say something, about to tell you that he’s getting close, but you interrupt him with a shove against his chest to make him sit back down on the couch. 

He clears his throat, watching you drop your pants and underwear to the floor. He reaches down to stroke himself, eyes taking in your exposed lower half. Hugh groans in anticipation when he watches you straddle his hips and align yourself to his tip. 

You waste no time (like you usually do) in sitting firmly on his erected length. You don’t take your time, you don’t slowly lower yourself. Instead, you lower yourself until he fills you to the hilt and Hugh tosses his head back at the sensation of your warm and wet walls clamping down on his already throbbing length. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Hugh groans, hands darting out to your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. 

“Call me bub,” you demand, hands moving to rest on his shoulders as you bounce along his length. “Please, Hugh…”

Hugh grunts, feeling every inch of your walls slide along him. He knows what you want, so he switches the flip inside of him and stares at you with a dark look on his face. He lets out a low growl – the way Logan would – and leans in to rest his forehead against yours, having long forgotten his normal Australian accent to replace with Logan’s.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, bub,” he groans. “Taking me so well.” 

Your eyes widen and your walls clench at the role that Hugh is now playing. When he sees the look on your face, he smirks and digs his fingertips even further into you, knowing that it’s going to leave bruises later. “Oh god…” you moan, biting your lower lip from trying to let everyone else on the lot hear what’s going on.

“Yeah?” he growls, moving a hand to your clit and beginning to rub it in circles. “Such a good girl. Look at you,” Hugh groans, feeling himself get closer and closer. “Oh bub,” he continues. “You’re close, ain’t ya? Can feel you tremble��”

“Hugh!” you exclaim, rolling your hips forward and backwards as your walls tighten even further around him. You reach your high far too quickly and feel him continue to rub circles against your clit, your body shaking as you try to reach down for his wrist to stop his movements. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hugh grins. He knows that he’s stronger than you, but he loves seeing you try. Loves to see your body become so overly sensitive that you begin to squirm away from him, unsure if you can reach another orgasm. 

“Hugh… Baby, I can’t–”

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning in to gently bite at your jawline as he thrusts his hips up roughly and rapidly. His balls slap against your backside, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off the walls of his trailer as he feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build and build–

“Fuck!” he groans, moving both hands now to your hips as he paints your walls with his come. Hugh’s eyes fall shut tightly, slowly guiding you along his length as he shudders at your tight walls milking every last drop. 

Slowly, Hugh lifts you off his lap and you quickly scramble to sit next to him, not wanting any of his come to get on the suit. You lean back against the couch, legs still spread open as Hugh looks down at you and sees his release slowly trickle out of you. 

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” he says, his voice back to normal as he watches groans at the sight of his come now trickling between your legs. 

“That was hot,” you smile, breathing heavily. 

“You’re hot,” he grins, reaching for a tissue to first clean you up and then to clean himself. Once he’s softened enough, Hugh pulls up his pants and then grabs your panties and jeans to gently hand it to you. “I’m going to have to film for the rest of the day after that?”

You bite your lower lip and slide on your panties. You sit on your knees and lean in to gently peck his lips. “And then we also have dinner tonight.”

He groans and runs his hand along your bare thigh. “How am I going to pay attention after you attacked me like that?” 

You gasp and gently slap his chest, feeling him take your hand and kiss your knuckles. “I did not attack you!” 

“Oh, the minute you saw me in this suit, you were already undressing me with your eyes.”

“Not my fault you look so hot in it.”

“Should I take it back with me to the hotel?” he grins, eyes wiggling suggestively. 

“If you bring it back to the hotel with you, we’re never leaving.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes,” you giggle. “You still have a movie to shoot.”

Hugh sighs dramatically. “I suppose you have a point.” 

You let out a laugh and Hugh smiles in your direction. “I’ve missed your laugh too,” he says quietly. 

You look up at him and cup his cheek, eyes staring into his own. “I’m not gonna let that man control me anymore,” you admit. “It’s going to be tough, but I–”

“You’re stronger than you know, baby,” Hugh finishes for you. “And I’ll be right there to help you through it. As long as you’ll have me.” 

“Wear the suit and then maybe I’ll consider,” you tease. 

Hugh chuckles and gently pushes you onto your back as he settles himself between your legs. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Hugh.”

“Do you think you have one more in you?” he asks, eyes dark with lust once more as he moves a hand between your legs. 

“I don’t–” you gasp when you feel him move your panties to the side and slide a finger past your depths. He can feel his spend inside of you and it makes him growl. 

“Lunch is almost over, Hugh…” you whimper.

“I know. Let me have my dessert, baby.” Hugh grins and then lowers his head between your legs.

---

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@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[mountainsandmayhem]

Frankie x Santi x Female Reader

Summary: Your boyfriends take care of you while you have your period

WC: 1.6k

AN: This is 100% a self indulgent fic that I wrote in about 20 minutes. It’s not BETA’d and I’ll probably end up just deleting it in a few days. But, I’ve had my period for 8 days now (tmi, but deal with it) and you can thank @for-a-longlongtime and @lotusbxtch for sending me an interview with these dummies and now all I want is for Frankie to be my boyfriend and Santi to be my boyfriend and I want them to be boyfriends. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics.

Tags: pure fluff, mentions of period cramps and taking painkillers, men kiss (again, deal with it)

“Santi?” You called, your voice echoing through what you’re sure is a dark and empty house. “Pope?” You try, hoping he’ll respond to his nickname. When you get no response you try his full name.

A light flicks on in the kitchen. “Babe?” Your boyfriend says, the concern in his voice mirrors yours.

Francisco comes into view. “I need Santi,” you mumble as he pulls you into a hug.

“His flight was delayed. He’s not going to get back until after midnight.” His lips press to your forehead. “You’re warm. Are you feeling ok?”

Of your two boyfriends, one is a chaotic golden retriever, the other is a calm German Shepard. You love them both, but when your period surprised you three days early you knew you needed Santiago tonight.

“I need Santi,” you whine, a new wave of cramps and nausea coursing through your body.

“Did you get your period?” His voice is sympathetic but as you look up at him he has a mix of fear, and something akin to excitement, in his eyes.

You nod, noting that it’s definitely excitement in his eyes. Which makes absolutely no sense since Frankie cannot stand to see you in pain or sick.

“He left me a note!” He exclaims. “I’m going to make you all better.”

“A note?” He pulls you towards the couch, getting you all cozy in the corner of the plush sectional. He leaves the living room for the kitchen. “Fish! What do you mean a note?”

He comes back in with a piece of yellow lined legal paper in his hands. He starts to read, using his best impression of Santi’s bossy serious tone. The two of you tease him about it relentlessly, which usually ends in the three of you fucking like rabbits until every hole between your happy trio is full and spent.

“Fish, our girl was exceptionally horny earlier than normal so she might get her period while I’m gone. I know you’ve been with her longer, but she’s going to come home calling for me the day my flight lands. Just in case I get delayed I’ve left you some instructions.”

Frankie rolls his eyes, “I hate when he’s right.”

“Same,” you giggle, feeling so damn in love that tears start to burn behind your eyes.

“First, help her change into something comfy. Give her some of your sweats and that waffle knit Henley that usually makes her feral. Let her take whatever sweater she wants from me.”

Your hand peeks out from the blanket and Frankie pulls you to your feet. After you’re changed, wrapped in clothing that belongs to your men, Fish takes the note out again.

“Get her situated back on the couch, rookie move getting her all settled in her work clothes originally, Fish.” His hands fall to his sides defeatedly, he rolls his eyes, “Does this fucker have a crystal ball or something?”

You laugh, clutching your side and holding back a wince. “Don’t make me laugh, Francisco.”

He rushes to your aid, “Lo siento mi amor.”

The two of you leave your bedroom and head back to the couch. He helps you arrange the pillows and then gets your favourite blanket, tucking you in. After sponging his lips softly to yours he heads back into the kitchen.

He reads silently, “Give her one of those little blue pain killers. She has to drink a full glass of water, rub her back in small circles to help her. She’s going to fight you on the water, Fish, but you’re a soldier, stay strong.”

“No,” you whine, seeing the large glass of water in his hands. “Water makes me nauseous, Frankie. Pope lets me have a Diet Coke.”

“No he doesn’t, carinõ. Sit up a bit. I got you.”

His strong hand rubs small circles on your lower back, exactly how Santi does when he forces you to drink a whole glass of water with your pain killers. Once you drain the glass, Frankie takes it from you with a whispered ‘good girl’.

“The next part of the note is two options, depending on how your feeling.”

“Oh?” You ask. You hadn’t realized just how close Pope had been paying attention. He’s always there, calm and bringing you exactly what you need, but you hadn’t realized the extent of what was going on behind his eyes.

“Get her the heating pad and then she’ll either want to watch Dirty Dancing while eating gummy worms or The Departed while eating salt and vinegar chips. If she drank all the water she can have the Diet Coke she wanted originally.”

You snatch the note out of his hands. “There’s no way I’m that predict-“ your words falter as you read exactly what your boyfriend was saying aloud. You smile as you read the next sentence, “Seriously, Fish, if you didn’t make her drink all that water I’m going to punish you once she’s asleep.”

You look up at him mischievously. “I’m gonna tell him you didn’t make me drink any water.”

His mouth opens then shuts, contemplating whether or not to go along with it. “No, I want him to be proud of me, and you.”

“I’m a good girl,” you joke, “Our boyfriend is always proud of me.”

“What’s it gonna be, baby? Dirty Dancing or The Departed?”

You clench your teeth as a sharp cramp pierces at your side. “Dirty Dancing.”

Panic crosses his face as he rubs your knees that are curled tight to your chest through the blanket. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

Frankie checks the note one more time. “Her snacks are on the top shelf of the pantry, tucked behind the cereal that you say tastes like old carpet. I’m going to have to find a new hiding place now. Let her curl up to you, she’s going to fall asleep about 20 minutes into the movie but don’t turn it off, she’ll know if you turn it off.”

He shakes his head and keeps reading. “Take care of her, please. I know you can’t handle seeing her in pain and I’m hoping you won’t have to. I love you, Frankie. Tell her I love her, too.”

He strolls back out to the couch with all the supplies. “Santi says he loves you.”

“You talked to him?”

“No, it was in the note.”

A sharp pain shoots through your back waking you up. You don’t know how you got to bed. You roll towards where Santi sleeps. He’s sitting, reading a book. He’s shirtless and for a second you think you’re dreaming with how good he looks.

His forefinger comes to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet and then mouths ‘Hi’ at you with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you whisper, your hand coming to the small of your back.

“Bath?” He whispers, leaning forward to try to massage the cramps away.

With a nod of your head he pads to the bathroom. You see him in just loose fitting pajama pants, something about Santi shirtless and barefoot causes your heart to thunder behind your ribs. It’s homey and so domestic, and for a long time you thought he wouldn’t stay. Tonight, he’s once again proved to you and Frankie that he’s doing more than staying.

You sink into the warm water, Santi climbing in behind you. He knows you’re going to get all sleepy and the last thing he needs is for you to drown.

“I missed you. Frankie was so sweet tonight.”

“Ya? Did he follow my instructions?”

“He did. Even the water. I can’t believe I’m that predictable though.”

He chuckles behind you, his soft plush lips meeting your temple. “You’re not. I’m observant and I love you and Frankie. I’m sorry I was delayed tonight.”

“Mmm, it’s ok. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re home.” The water is the perfect temperature and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he used the unscented bubble bath instead of the rose scented one that gave you a migraine last month. Your muscles start to relax, the cramps easing. “Santi?”

“Yes, querida?”

“Thank you for staying with us. A few months ago I wasn’t so sure. I hope you know how much I love you and how much I didn’t know I needed until you came along.”

He runs a soft washcloth up and down your body under the bubbles, addicted to the way you melt into him every time he does it. “I know. I love you, too.”

Frankie stirs awake, something feels wrong as he eyes blink over. He rolls to find the bed empty. He sits up in panic, only the light under the bathroom door calming him.

He usually sleeps naked, so after slipping his boxers on he creeps to the en suite and knocks softly before testing the handle. The door pops open and he shakes his head at you and Santiago in the tub together. There’s no bubbles left and you’re both sleeping soundly. As he dips his hand in the water to pull the plug the water is just slightly above room temperature.

The sound startles Santi, his arms wrap around you protectively as he looks at Fish.

“So worried about her drowning and you’re sound asleep,” he says softly.

“I got her,” he says back.

“I know. I was teasing you.”

“C’mere,” Santi rasps. Frankie, like you, was sound asleep when Santi crept into bed a few hours ago. Fish crouches beside the tub, Santi’s hand comes out of the water to wrap around his boyfriends neck.

“You’re gonna get me all wet, Pope!”

“You’re always wet around me, little puta.” he whispers against his lips and then kisses him passionately.

They’ve been so wrapped up in one another that they haven’t noticed that you’ve woken up. You snort quietly, “He’s got you there, Fish.”

[malk1ns]

november 2 2024 vs habs, 3-1 win

bond fic part three (1, 2). i don't think they'll all be in this 'world' from now on, but i definitely plan to revisit, especially if sid keeps saying insane things like 'i love....really enjoy playing with him' on television while making the most blatant genoface of all time.

Sid feels guilty about the bond.

It doesn’t take a genius to tell that it’s benefitting him right now a lot more than it is Geno. It also doesn’t require any special detective skills to narrow down what exactly it was that caused it to clamor for recognition now, after presumably years of lying dormant—the specialists the team has hauled in haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly when it started to click into place, but they’ve narrowed it down to sometime in 2014.

Sochi. Coughing up a 3-1 playoffs lead to the Rangers (the first time). The front office getting a clean sweep, with barely-veiled references to their leadership, or rather lack thereof, being the cause. Sid remembers how much closer to Geno he felt after their post-Olympics conversation, how much they talked that summer, hours on the phone railing at ownership, at management, at their teammates.

He’d wondered why Geno brought that up after his 500th goal. It had felt personal, almost, to hear him give up such a private, important detail like when they really started to consider each other family to the public.

Now, though, Sid knows why. That was the bond. It was the bond, which had sat patiently for a decade, pushing Geno closer to Sid, making him beg for time on Sid’s line, which—really, shouldn’t that have been a clue? He puts up 11 points in five games and suddenly wants to switch to wing? Geno’s always said that the Penguins were Sid’s team, always deferred to him and stepped back and let him take the spotlight, but at the expense of his own points production? It was the bond sensing a weakness, a stumbling in Sid’s ability to lead the team on his own, that pushed Geno up off his own line to Sid’s side. Geno never would have argued so hard to give up his role otherwise, especially not when his line was helping keep the team afloat.

After the Anaheim game, they’d stood in the parking lot for almost 20 minutes, Geno holding them up as he braced himself against the car, before someone found them. The athletic trainers had come running first, then the medical staff, and they’d been examined in separate rooms. Sid had been allowed to drive himself home, but Geno was still in with Vyas when he left, sitting on an exam table and shaking so hard he had to lean against a trainer to stay upright.

Everything in Sid had screamed at him to stay, but Kevin had firmly ushered him onward, and Sid had no choice but to go home.

And then Geno missed practice. A maintenance day, Sully called it, but the twanging discontent at the periphery of Sid’s sensation said otherwise, and he’d have gone straight to Geno’s after practice if he hadn’t been firmly warned off doing so. He needs space, Vyas had said. He’s not adapting as well as you to the bond, and proximity is pushing him past his own limits. He can’t help it. You need to give him today, and he’ll be better tomorrow. This will take time for the two of you to adjust before it’s smooth.

When Geno shows up for the game, though, the circles under his eyes are so dark that Kris is at his side immediately, brow furrowed with worry as he corrals Geno off to a corner of the lounge to talk to him. Geno listens, but doesn’t do anything except shake his head, even when Kris gets more animated, talking with his hands and getting in Geno’s space.

Sid leaves them to it. Kris knows what happened, is one of the few people they told, but there’s nothing he or anyone else can do. There’s nothing Sid can do, even, except keep playing and listen to the staff and hope that whatever is keeping Geno from adjusting resolves itself soon.

They can’t avoid each other in the game, though. Sid doesn’t think they’ve ever shared this much ice time in their whole careers as they have the last two games. Every shift, every faceoff, Geno’s there at his left, crouched down and staring at the puck, waiting for it to drop and play to start. On the bench they bend together over the iPad, and even Ricky trying to sit between them at Vyas’s request after the first period doesn’t last more than a few shifts.

Sid feels like he’s orbiting something, their gravitational pulls drawing them closer and closer together; collision feels inevitable and imminent. He can’t stay away from Geno, and he doesn’t want to.

Geno on his wing is a revelation. He’s settling into it now, digging in the corners and whipping the puck around the boards back to the point, doing all the dirty work to set up the rest of their skaters for a goal that he doesn’t get a single bit of credit on the scoresheet for. Sid knows, though, can feel the bond humming when they’re clicking out there, knows that his passes to Geno are going to hit every time, knows that Geno will find him through traffic and set him up no matter what.

It’s the third period when Geno starts swearing on the bench.

Sid scoots closer and tries to talk to him, but Geno shakes his head vehemently and hits his stick on the boards, going off in Russian to himself, and when he stands up and moves down the bench, Sid gives up.

They get the win. It’s hockey night in Canada, so Sid has to grab some branded towel and talk to the kid from Sportsnet, but his mind is a million miles away.

It’s like watching from a distance when he hears himself almost say he loves Geno on national television.

He’s able to backtrack, soften it and change what he was about to say, but when he finally escapes to the locker room, his hands are shaking as he unties his skates.

Sid can practically see Geno at home, pacing his kitchen and fighting with himself over how he feels. It’s the same conflict that’s been bubbling up since Halloween night in Sid, the one he didn’t notice until Geno left after the game. The same fear, the same worry, the same realization that for years there’s been something there that neither of them have seen.

Sid isn’t adapting better to the bond at all, it turns out. He’s just been better at folding himself in denial over what it meant.

[highonakuweeds]

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness? (Part 5)

Sylus x right hand man!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ao3

Summary: You had a nightmare. Normally, that wouldn't phase you, but this memory was different, leading to your weakness.

The air around her felt sticky and cold. Not like she wasn’t used to it, anyway; it’s been like this for the past…

…How long has it been? Weeks? Months? Years?

Her sense of time mixed itself up the moment she lost her consciousness when she was walking down the streets of Linkon City, going back to the apartment she stole from a lady a long time ago. (Name) stole her credit card, too, but she cut that off a while back as well. 

There were an abundance of people that walked into her cell, but none of them talked to her. The one thing all of them did was grab her right wrist, swollen and limp from the countless amount of surgeries to place something sharp inside of it and monitor it constantly. It was always so close to her blood vessels, and every time she would think about it, it would make her lose consciousness.

This was the… 10th time that had happened? There was no sun from where she was, so she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what time it was. But from how her body strained less than before, she knew that it was shorter this time.

There was water that dripped a couple of feet away from her, mimicking the seconds ticked by. Sometimes, she would find herself counting until she reached how many days there are in a year. 365 seconds… that’s only 6.083 minutes, and that is only around 0.101 hours…

Wait, how’d she know that?

She noticed that she began to understand and know things way too obscure for her to know without any prior education. She could answer the most complicated Math questions she could think of, and she hadn’t even started college. Well, reason being she couldn’t afford it.

Yet even with that, she didn’t know the time.

She opened her eyes with a jolt of her tired body, her wrists encapsulated in something that numbed them. She could still move her fingers, but it was only slight. She groggily glanced up at the hooded figure that opened up her cell’s door; were they going to drag her to the operating room again?

Her body shivered when he spoke, shocked that there was someone else speaking other than her in this cell. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he declared, fingers nimbly working against the chains gripping her ankles that kept her in the cell. She tilted her head in confusion, opening her mouth to speak. “Why?” It was rough. Well, it had been a couple hours (days?) since she last spoke.

Even through the hood, she could feel his eyes on her as he continued to work against the chains, finally snapping them loose. They came down from her ankles with a clank, and she gasped at the feeling of circulation in her feet. “If I can’t save myself from this torture,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “Then I can at least save you.”

He began working on the things around her wrists, grimacing when he saw just how butchered her right one was. “Were you dominant in this hand?” He asked her, and she nodded, laughing weakly. “I don’t think I can write with it anymore after this.” When he was finally able to remove the binding material from her wrists, he softly gripped her forearms to hoist her up, steadying her when she staggered. “Will I be able to recover?”

He pursed his lips before smiling reassuringly. “If you take care of yourself. Now, close your eyes.”

“What?”

“It’s for the better if you don’t know who I am, and I’m going to remove my coat. Now, close your eyes.”

She hesitantly did what he told her to do, and she suddenly felt something drape around her shoulders, a hood covering her eyes. When she opened them, she could barely see her surroundings, and when she threw her head back to remove the hood, it was immediately placed back on her head, the boy—seemingly around 20, around her age—now behind her to conceal his identity. “Look, I know that you’re weak right now, but I want you to run. Run as far as you can without looking back.”

“But what about you—”

“I can’t save myself here.” He emphasized once more, saying it even more slowly. “My future lies here. But you? I know that you have so much potential out there, not cooped up here, ready to be experimented on. Now, go. I’ll distract all of the people in the lab.”

She didn’t question him when he said that, and the moment the both of them bolted out of the door, an alarm broke out. The mysterious guy gently yet urgently pushed her towards a hidden hallway as the guards began to flood the main one, all running in a panic.

There was a door there that looked so much like an exit, and (Name)’s face lit up when he told her that it was actually the exit.

And with that, she ran. You ran as fast as you could with your aching and still numbed feet, stumbling when you hit a small rock, but never falling. 

You won’t fall again after this.

—--

You opened the door to an abandoned building, glancing at the clock that was still somehow working. That probably means that this place was freshly abandoned. Was it 5 am or 5 pm? Either way, the red moon shone through the windows of the shop, confusing you. Were you still even in Linkon City?

You snooped around for any kind of weapon you could find, smiling happily when you found a small pistol. It was a luxury to find such a gun as sleek and high-quality as it, and it felt right in your left hand. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing with my gun?” A deep, rich voice vibrated within you, cutting the silence that you knew all too well. It was an instinct, really, something you’d picked up from roaming around the streets for too long. You stood up, twisting your body to aim the gun at the man. The only thing you saw when you pulled the trigger was his white hair and his red eyes, and a grin that made you want to wipe it off with a bullet.

And so you did.

The bang from your memories woke you up, mixing with the sound of your alarm as cold sweat coated your entire face. Your heart was racing way too much for comfort, and as you glanced at your right wrist, the red glow flickering so quickly that if you stared at it too long, you probably would’ve had a seizure.

You quickly removed it from your sight as you stood up from your bed, going towards your bathroom to look for any bandages that could at least soften the harshness of the flickering of the light. It didn’t take long for you to bandage it properly, the light dimming.

You hadn’t dreamt about that memory in so long; why did you dream about it now?

Because of it, you felt weak. Gripping your sink, you stared at your face and the newfound eye bags under your eyes. With a small grumble, you tied your hair to wash your face and get ready for the day.

The moment you took another step, you staggered, your brain remembering what it was like to be chained. It was how many years ago, and yet it couldn’t seem to let the sensation go. You gritted your teeth at it, forcing yourself to walk towards the kitchen to get some nutrients in your body. With how you woke up, you definitely needed some.

—--

When you entered the kitchen, wafts of the fragrance of bacon entered your nostrils, but instead of making you sigh in pleasure, it only made you grumble in distaste. You had forced yourself to eat the breakfast that the chef made; he took his time to make it, after all.

You asked where your boss was, and—to your expectation—the chef had replied that he didn’t know. Which usually meant one thing: he was probably dealing with some rat that tried to fool him.

And right on time, you heard your phone ping—a sound familiar to you because it’s only reserved for your boss.

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot, nodded at the chef in gratitude and left. You made sure to grab your hood, and as you walked the long hallway to the grand dining room that Sylus had, you fumbled with the strings of the hood; you never fumbled.

=What was going on?

You quietly opened the door to find a man trying to talk to Sylus about business, and him acting incredibly uninterested. You nodded your head at your boss, who then indicated to you to stay by his right side. Of course, you came to his side as quickly as you could, crossing your arms.

“They plan to implant Protocores into human hearts. Then they’ll insert the human consciousness into Wanderers,” the man had explained. Your wrist beeped quietly when it recognized the information—as false as it is—but it heated up quickly, making you stagger. The man hadn’t noticed it, but your boss surely did. He glanced at you with a brow raised in question. “This little project of theirs has a name: The Fountain of Atei—”

You placed a hand in front of you as Sylus spoke, indicating the man to stop talking. “You should know I’m not interested in other people’s businesses.” Your boss turned his head so that he’d be looking at you, and you pursed your lips. You could feel yourself getting a bit lightheaded, so your hand instinctively gripped Sylus’ bicep, nails digging into his skin.

If that action surprised Sylus, you didn’t see, but he knew what the purse of your lips meant. “And you’re lying. You’re not even telling me everything. It’s a shame you threw away your last chance.”

Red wisps of Sylus’ evol wrapped around the man’s neck, pulling him down to his knees. Your boss nodded your head at you, and you leaned down, gripping the man’s chin. You gave him a pitiful smile before removing a small dagger from your hood, opening the man’s mouth, and cutting his tongue off. 

A scream erupted from him, reverberating within the entire dining hall. You gave the now detached tongue in your hand a squeeze before grimacing at the look of it. No matter how many times you’d do this, you would never get used to it. 

Red tendrils wrapped around the tongue before making it disappear with its owner, and you wiped the saliva off your hands onto the ends of your hood. “Disgusting everytime.”

You took your hood off, and the moment more light gleamed within your eyesight, you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a ragged breath. Fuck, you still haven’t recovered.

Sylus’ brows furrowed when he saw you take that breath. First was when you staggered, then when you gripped his arm, and now this? Just as he was about to ask you what was wrong, someone else opened the door, making you immediately put the hood back on and disappear in the shadows.

Ah, he totally forgot about MC.

When she entered the room, you sighed softly, walking towards the door and leaving. However, before you could even reach the door, you felt yourself palpitate, making you gasp sharply and freeze in your tracks. MC’s attention immediately went to you as a rather concerned look on her face appeared. In all honesty, it even surprised herself. “Nyx, are you okay?”

‘Nyx’? Sylus had to stifle a smirk at the name you had chosen to conceal your identity from your colleague. But the worry that was subtly etched in his features never left

You placed a hand in between you and MC before nodding. And as quickly and quietly as you entered, you left, leaving the two of them in the room.

—--

“Good morning, (Name)! How are you—my God, you look like shit. What happened?” Tara rushed to your side, an arm around your waist to support you. You begrudgingly smiled, grateful that the hunter’s uniform requires you to wear long sleeves, hence covering up your glowing wrist. Nevertheless, you still had the bandages wrapped around it. 

You shook your head as you sat down on your desk, placing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on my palm. “I honestly have no idea. Hey, Tara?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if you accidentally fell in love with your boss?”

Your friend blinked at you, eyes blown wide as she attempted to connect the dots. “You like Jenna!? Damn, I didn’t know you swung that way. Wait, no but honestly, I can see it—”

“This,” you took a deep sigh, stifling your laugh. “Is not about me, okay? Just someone I met when I was on a date with Aries.”

Tara’s face scrunched as it took her a while to recognize who Aries was before humming. “...Okay, uhm. Without any context, if I fell in love with my boss, I’d have confessed.”

You furrowed your brows, looking around. “What? That easily? But—but what if he seems to be interested in someone else? Someone he all of a sudden became obsessed with? Your, uhm, colleague, for example. Then again, it was like he was incredibly interested in you for the longest time. And, hey, what if you lose your job? Sure, you may be valuable to your boss, but you can’t risk anything, right?”

Tara sighed, leaning against your desk before speaking. “Well, I would still confess. If I were to constantly see my own boss, I wouldn’t have been able to keep it in for long, anyway. So, might as well just get it off my chest, ya know?” She faced you, a knowing look on her face, as if she knew you were lying about it being a ‘friend’ despite not knowing who this ‘boss’ really was. “So, you go and tell your friend to spill her heart out. And you said that he was interested in her, right?”

You passed air through your lips, wondering if you should even consider Tara’s advice. “Might be interested. Not interested interested.”

Your friend just laughed at that. “I’m calling B.S. But, for the benefit of the doubt, what makes yo—her think that he only might be interested?”

You didn’t catch her small slip-up as you sighed. “Well, before he started getting obsessed with her colleague, he’d put on her heels for her, take her out to fancy restaurants sometimes, give her bouquets of flowers—”

“Pause.” Tara stared at you in surprise, a hand beside her head as if indicating you to stop talking. “He sounds like a husband. Are you sure those two aren’t actually a thing?”

Groaning, you held your head, beginning to feel the energy drain out of you. “No, they aren’t a thing. I… uh, asked her. Multiple times.”

Tara nodded slowly before speaking reluctantly. “Well, he seems very interested in her. Especially with the heels thing. That’s not something a normal man would do for a woman. Well, wait, I’m getting off topic,” she waved the air like she was swatting away the other thoughts. “He definitely likes her. Well, not just like, but he’s probably in love with her. Maybe it just seems like he’s obsessed with your friend’s colleague because… I don’t know, he needs something from her which requires a bit more attention than usual.”

You pouted, gaze drifting away from your friend. “I guess…”

“Tell your friend that she’s overthinking, and that her boss is definitely in love with her.” Tara scoffed playfully, leaning forward so that the both of you were eye-to-eye. “And that she’s got this, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Now, I have to finish off my weekly report; I’ve been putting it off the entirety of the weekend.”

Tara grinned, straightening up to go to her desk. “Alright, then!”

Once your friend was out of sight, you took a deep breath, recollecting your thoughts and putting yourself in hunter work mode. Though, just as you were about to touch your keyboard to type something, an energy pull caused you to reel forward towards it, making you gasp sharply. Your mind flashed with a multitude of conversations and memories of a factory, and you were quick to realize that it was memories of when and how the keyboard was made. You furrowed your brows at the sudden headache, feeling your heart pounding erratically. 

The pulses on not just your right wrist, but your left one, too, felt too strong for comfort. Lightheadedness, cold sweat, unregulated breathing—seriously, what was going on?

You couldn’t do any work that day, and told Jenna that you weren’t feeling well. You kept your hands inside of your pockets, though a picture of the person who made your uniform flashed through your brain every now and then. 

This didn’t feel like anything you’ve experienced before; you needed to go to the hospital pronto. There was a certain doctor that you’d overheard many of your hunter friends swoon over every time doctors were needed on the field. And with how much your heart was palpitating, he might be a good person to talk to about this.

—--

“Alright, then, let’s start with the basics.” Dr. Li’s cool voice filled the silent room, and you nodded. You tapped your knees awkwardly; it’s been a while since you’ve been in a doctor’s office. Usually, you had one of Sylus’ personal doctors do your annual check-ups, but you didn’t want him to know about this.

“Any history of heart problems?”

“None that I know of.”

“When did this start?”

“When I woke up this morning after a nightmare.”

“Has this been occurring frequently?”

“No, only today.”

“Do you drink a lot of coffee or indulge in a lot of caffeine? Are you susceptible to stress? Do you exercise often?”

“When needed, most of the time, and since I’m a hunter, yes.”

“What other symptoms have you been feeling other than heart palpitations?”

“Shortness of breath, sudden fatigue, lightheadedness… Does heartache count?”

“In the figurative sense, no.”

“Awh, damnit.”

Dr. Li scribbled the last of your responses before standing up, placing his stethoscope in his ears. “I’ll be checking your pulse now.”

You nodded, straightening up. “Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Dr Li.”

He just let out a soft huff of air that you assumed to be as a laugh(?) before he spoke. “Dr. Zayne is fine, don’t worry. Now, take deep breaths.” And as you did so, he placed the end of the stethoscope towards your chest, his brows knitting together ever so slightly. It was subtle, but you learned to always look for even the most subtle of movements.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but your heart rate is incredibly quick, approximately 125. Is this your resting heart rate?” Dr. Zayne’s voice snapped you out of your heightened guard, and you replied to him with a nod. “At least for today, it is. Usually, it’s at 70 beats per minute, but now, it’s definitely more than that. It was at 138 just an hour or two ago; it’s been making me lightheaded the entire day.”

“You track your BPM regularly.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement that Dr. Zayne used to confirm. You pressed your lips into a thin line as a smile, and he smiled fondly, his mind seemingly drifting somewhere else. He removed the stethoscope from your chest and his ears, slinging it around his neck. Walking towards the water dispenser, he grabbed a cup and filled it, giving it to you afterward. You accepted it gracefully as he spoke. “A certain someone could learn from that. She’s your colleague, I believe.” He caught himself, and shook his head. “Excuse me, I was a bit unprofessional there.”

That piqued your interest, however, and you downed it all in one go as he went back behind his desk to write down what you needed to do. “No, it’s alright. Uh, are you talking about MC?”

Dr. Zayne’s eyes lit up the moment her name was mentioned, and for a second, he just stared at the pad of paper, a small smile on his face. Your eyes widened at the revelation, and your mind was suddenly brimming with thoughts. 

“I was, actually. Do you know her? Well, of course you do, she’s your colleague. How is she? I haven’t heard from her in a while. She said she was going to be out of town for a couple of weeks, but she also promised to update me.”

Wow, he talks a lot when it comes to MC. You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t heard from her, either.” Liar. “Are you two… dating?”

Dr. Zayne’s ears visibly reddened at your question, and he just averted eye contact, jaw tightening before he spoke. “No, we aren’t. As her primary physician, I’m just concerned for her. Now, here is what you need to be doing and regulating if ever symptoms persist. And if they ever escalate, visit me immediately.”

You accepted the piece of paper Dr. Zayne held up politely, nodding your head. “Alright, thank you so much. And by the way,” Dr. Zayne raised his brows as a confirmation that he was listening to you. “I’m positive MC is doing just fine. Just wait for her call.”

This time, it wasn’t just his ears that blushed, but his entire face until his neck. He cleared his throat and nodded tightly. “Thank you, (Name). Come back next week for a follow-up.”

And with that, you were on your way. It was still early in the day, though, and you didn’t want to go to the N109 Zone so early. So, you opted to stay at a quaint cafe near the hospital. You could feel yourself getting calmer by the second, as if that conversation with your doctor along with his obvious crush on your colleague had calmed your nerves down. 

You glanced at the paper, pouting when you realized he told you to relax on the caffeine, if able to cut it all together. 

Fine. Decaf it is, then.

@readerxyourbabe :33

[the-dark-parade]

WARNINGS! THIS STORY CONTAINS... angst + fluff + lilia×fem reader

A/N: Dear souls, for the moment, thank you for waiting! Once more, I hope my work pleases you. If you are not comfortable with this, feel free to leave. If you would like a version with male reader instead, please request it. Just for your info, my prev fic is still on hiatus. One of these days I'll make a masterlist of my works... Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. I'm already starting part 3, sorry if this story doesn't fit your expectations!

Now, the parade continues its second destination...

Part 2

You're in a shitty story as a mob, what more could go wrong?

(if only this was a dream...)

.............................

...you open your eyes.

You opened your eyes!

You opened your goddamn eyes already, and even pinched yourself! Hard!

Once, twice, thrice, twisted it, pulled it, you basically tried everything you could!

But..

...you just couldn't get out of this dream.

The walls, ceiling, bed, and everything around you just screamed "this is war".

How, you may ask?

Well for starters, you're in.. a tent, it seems. Low quality.

The bedding doesn't even feel like bedding. It's just some fabric over.. grass. Literal. Grass.

But the worst part about this are 3 main things.

You could feel pain from wounds. (1 covers your whole head and 2 others for your arms. They all ache and itch under all those bandages. You didn't want to believe it at first, but fuck it's itchy as hell.)

As if that wasn't enough, you could hear. Too well for comfort. And you may ask how that's a bad thing.

Well it is. A major, major bad thing. You could hear basically everything between an estimated 10-20 meters, but you're not too sure. From other people's heavy breathing to crickets outside, it felt like everything was being mega-phoned into your ears. Even things you never noticed or heard before were at the noise level of people mumbling.

It is absolutely horrible. Your eardrums feel like exploding, (you hope it's not bleeding at this point) but the bandage around your head helps ever so slightly. You curse this newfound ability.

On top of that, you could also smell the blood, rot, and dirt from all directions. (Like your sense of hearing, your sense of smell has never been this good, even if it's just slightly better than your usual sense of smell. It's just that your surroundings stink and you wish you had a nose-block.)

Luckily, you could still sit up, so you did.

And guess what you saw?

Well, it should be obvious. As if the smells that invaded your nose and overwhelmed you wasn't a tell-tale sign already.

And so, you glanced at your surroundings with a swift turn of your head and eyes. Was it just you, but could you see better?

To your not-so-surprising surprise, there were so. many. injured yet beautiful people(?) - in your brain, you understood that they were people (at least in looks) but their ears were pointy.

...

Curiosity kills the cat, huh?

Well you surely understood that idiom the moment you touched your own ears.

With what you sensed through the bandages on your entire right arm, your fears turned out to be true.

... it's pointy.

Your ears are fucking pointy.

Haha. Hahaha.

This is not a fucking dream.

This is not.. a dream, is it?

And if all those things, no, people, no, you suppose they're called faes, are real...

Then.. did you truly die from reading that shitty novel?

...

...oh.

You wonder about your friends and family, (if you even had any in the first place) but decide to suppress those thoughts before you get a panic attack.

Anyways, onto your next move!

So, using your experience of reading so much fanfiction, you know just what to do!

Thus, you muster up my courage and reach out a hand to the lady(?) man(?) fae.

Their face was covered with some sort of mask. And you decide to go with she for pronouns as her hair is long.

After scanning the place with your eyes for a bit, you notice that everyone had some sort of mask beside them.

...exactly like the ones that were in that shitty novel...

"urm... what.. date is it now? And where are we? I'm a bit confused."

...you hope she doesn't see how much you're sweating. Is it even a she? You rack your brain, yet you can't figure it out due to the mask. You just decide to call her "green sheep" cause the mask she's wearing is green, and it's a sheep.

She responds back.. something. You somehow understand what she's talking about even though my human - not human - ears cannot comprehend it.

What you managed to catch was "Briar", exactly the same name as the fae's country in the book.

But what you suppose was slightly better was the date. It was 10 years before the main story would end.

After that would be the d day, the day were you and everyone else in this country die.

It's okay, everything's okay!

You are NOT freaking out!

(...not here, at least.)

...

...you want to cry.

Your injuries still hurt and your bandages still itch. Even after so many days of lying in bed.

(...but it's not like that's the only reason.)

Anyways, you suck it up.

It's the only thing you can do now anyways.

-

-

-

The days pass by pretty slowly. You can't believe it's only been a week since you got here. It feels so much longer than that.

Day after day, you get a new memory of who "you" used to be.

You suppose it's better for you...

Like clockwork, you apply the little amount of ointment you're given, change the bandages on your wounds, resist the urge to scratch, eat, exercise as much as I can, sleep and repeat.

It's not so bad after some time.

...

...haha, who are you joking?

You've resorted to talking (in your head, you're not that big of a weirdo!) to yourself because you're so lonely and have no friends here.

Your hand twitches from time to time because you forget you don't have your phone with you anymore.

Everyone is extremely tense and stressed out, not just you.

At night, you're unable to sleep, and not just because your hearing has gotten exceptionally better.

The clanging of swords, the whispers and the different people being shuffled in day after day keeps you up at night.

And even if you do sleep, all you have are nightmares.

Dreams of the modern life you used to have.

It isn't so unbelievably strange that you miss it now. Anyone in your shoes would. The convenience and comfort it came with was extremely addicting.

The more you think about it, the more you can't sleep.

And thus, you lay awake in bed, eyes open, just hearing the tick of the clock.

How long has it been?

How long will you be here?

You're scared. You're lonely. You want to go home. Badly.

...

...But you can't do a single thing about it, and you start to feel numb and accept your fate. It's highly unlikely at this rate.

You just wish this is all a bad dream.

.............................

A/N: You're in denial and will soon have a mental breakdown hahaha! I'm pretty sure my writing style changed, so sorry if you dislike it. Stay tuned for part 3!! Sorry for the long ass waiting times I'll try to post more often 😔😔😔

It'll take a few more chapters til lilia comes idk though but kinda slow burn??

extra for males:

You wake up and wonder.. is your ding dong still there?!

You check your pants and come to a horrible realization...

IT'S GONEEEEEEE!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

😞😞😞😞😔😔😔😔😔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[secretlywritingstories]

I am turning 30 today, which is the first "big" birthday since I turned 18 more than a decade ago.

Objectively, there's nothing special about this birthday compared to the one I had last year or the one I'll have next year. But it turns into something special because we assign meaning to it, and honestly, I can't really be mad about that.

I like that we as humans make all sorts of intricate rituals throughout our lives, like choosing to celebrate birthdays and even making some of them more of a big deal because you're entering a new decade. It's fun if you make it fun.

As a child, I thought someone who was 30 would officially be a Proper Adult. Looking at my own parents as examples, it was the year that they got married after a decade together and they would be having their first child (me!) about a year later. Very adult stuff.

It was supported by the view of society too, where you are meant to find a partner, settle down, get a job and a house, and start trying to have children. Especially that last one if you were born as a girl, since obviously the biological clock starts ticking real loud when you hit the big 3.0.

Thankfully, I don't feel that way anymore. I guess it isn't that surprising when you look at how my life is at the moment. I have never had a long-term partner, and while I wouldn't mind having someone next to me in my life, I also can do okay on my own. I've got the steady job, but I rent my apartment. And children are not really something I can image committing to, and as such I am freed from that particular "universal" stressor.

Oh, and I'm queer both in terms of sexuality and gender. I think that's part of the veering off from the hetero-normative constraints that are thought to be imposed on me by reaching this age. It has been confusing at times, but I am so thankful to know this about myself now.

And I have so much good in my life, even if it doesn't necessarily look how I would have thought it was "supposed" to look like when I reached this age. I have a wonderful family, absolutely incredible friends (a lot for more than a decade and also from all over the world! how lucky can I be?), my horse Moneypenny and the family dogs. I like my job and my colleagues that I have to spend so many hours with. I'm financially stable and able to take care of myself well.

I have written and shared so, so many stories, and coming out at about 4 million words total across them all. And I have so many more stories to tell, even if I don't know what they'll be yet. That's the exciting part!

I don't have a 5 or a 10 year plan. I never really did, so I don't think I'll start now. Who cares anyway? Time will pass no matter what I plan, and life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. So many of the good things in my life has been a string of coincidences that have placed me on this path and I am quite liking the view.

Still, I'll take this chance to celebrate life, on this supposed big birthday. Being happy that I now have three decades on me and know the bulk still lies ahead of me. I'll surround myself with loved ones, have an excuse to connect with people who reach out with birthday wishes, and just spend the day well.

And frankly, I think the 30s are only going to get better than my 20s.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 20

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you feel overwhelmingly concerned with Calibani's well-being. Even as you're pulled in three other directions, the drive to go to check on her is stronger than all of them combined. A good 38% or so of your mind asks you whether you might be getting too attached to this woman-who's-actually-a-monster that you've only known for, what, two days or so? It adds that you should be careful since you've been alone for a while. You're vulnerable, you need to take care of yourself.

You tell that part of your mind to fuck off. Well over half of you thinks it's full of shit anyway.

You find your sea-monster predator-turned-friend? leaning against the side of your boat and resting her face on her hand, her eyes scanning the horizon with a troubled expression on her face. Immediately you feel your concern is justified, and you don't even hide the haste in your step as you close the distance between the two of you. "Calibani, what's wrong?"

Her eyes go wide when she hears your voice, and she hastily puts on a big smile as she turns to face you, though you notice it doesn't reach her eyes. "Oh, nothing, Sailor!" she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just tired, is all! Fighting that gloppy monster took a lot out of me!" She smiles again, bigger and more visibly forced this time, and says. "What about you? It's can't be fun for you dealing with all these..." Her smile falters for a fraction of a second. "These monsters trying to eat you..."

It's a deflection, and not even a very good one, but you worry if you call her on that it'll scare her into withdrawing further. "It's been harrowing," you say as you keep your gaze locked on her face. "But I imagine it's worse for you, since you're a lot more vulnerable now than you used to be."

Calibani frowns briefly, her eyes big and just a little watery, but she quickly plasters a smile back on. "Oh, I've never been the biggest fish in the pond," she laughs. "It's not the first time something's hunted me, and it won't be the last. At least I have a new weapon to defend myself with." She looks at her stork-headed spear, and her smile finally becomes genuine again. "Thank you for making it, by the way."

Now you get to wave dismissively. "Please, you're the one who made it useful. I think you did as much damage to that thing as the boat."

Calibani's smile grows wider as her eyes flicker with worry again. "Yeah, I hurt it pretty bad," she says with clearly feigned enthusiasm, and again tries to change the topic. "It was so clever of you to hit it with your boat. What a finishing move!"

"Well, it worked for me bef..." you stop mid-sentence as you realize that Calibani knows exactly when you last hit a monster with your boat, and that it's likely a bit of a traumatic memory for her. But there's really no way to end that sentence differently, and so you just whisper out, "...fore..." as an awkward silence falls between you. As both of you stand there quietly not making eye contact, your eyes fall upon her tail, which once again hangs over the side of the ship.

"You're tail's hanging off the side of the ship," you say, stating the obvious.

Calibani looks at it. "Yeah, it is," she says quietly.

"Aren't you worried something will grab it again?"

She shakes her head, and her big mane oh hair attached to it wiggles with the motion. "The water feels so good on my scales and fin," she explains. "I think the time spent enjoying that will outweigh any time spent getting grabbed or bitten, so it's worth the risk. Besides, if something grabs my tail, I can warn you that trouble is coming, so we'll be better off in the end anyway."

You decide not to argue with her logic. "Well, let me know if you need anything," you suggest, unsure of what else to say at the moment.

"Will do, sweetness!" she replies with a bright, fake smile.

With a nod, you leave her to her thoughts, deciding to wait and see if maybe she'll open up later. It's time to focus on the second task at hand, anyway, the whole reason you came here: you need to search these boats.

It's slow, methodical work, and at first it doesn't yield much for all the labor involved. All the wrecked and capsized ships are a bust, their contents either lost to the sea or so water-damaged they're basically useless. The boats that are right-side up provide a bit more - some non-perishable or at least not rotten food here (and, to Calibani's assured delight, some salt, pepper, garlic, and paprika), a few useful tools there, even some clothes that you decide to pocket in hopes of adding to your wardrobe (and, notably, a few more sweaters that seem like they might fit Calibani, though a couple might need to be stretched out a bit first).

In one boat, however, you find something truly interesting. It seems rather bland at first - a briefcase, kind of fancy but not something that seems promising at a glance, with a logo on its side that seems vaguely familiar to you: Spindle Inc.

The name sounds familiar, and you wrack your brain about where you heard it before. Isn't Spindle one of those big tech companies, the ones that make a shitload of money but no one's quite sure what the hell they actually do or sell? You realize this is one of the few specific memories of your life before the Sea that you can recall, and try to see if you can remember more details, but nothing comes to mind.

There's a lock on the briefcase, but luckily for you the former owner didn't remember to lock it. You decide to open it up, just to see if anything inside might further jog your spotty and unreliable memory.

Inside, you spot several documents, with the one on top reading, "Field Agent's Guide to the Sea of Monsters." Most of it uses jargon you can't begin to comprehend, but as you pour over it you come across some notes jotted in the margins.

"It's no use, the only way home is under." "Need a deep sea vessel." "North, South, East, West. Where did it come from?" "Can't risk going back to the lab, they won't let me go." "FIND DR. NEPTUNE." - underlined "Where is Neptune's base? Clues scant." "Captain Peter = only person who knows where Neptune is. Find him beyond the boat graveyard. We're close. I'm close. We're going home."

It's scattered and strange, but you think you get a sense of what this person was looking for. Someone named Dr. Neptune, who you can only find by meeting someone named Captain Peter, who is "beyond the boat graveyard," which you can guess from context is where you are right now. Seems your next destination is... well, ok, not really set, but you know where to go looking next, and that's something, dammit!

Of course, looking requires sailing, and that reminds you that you should probably check on your boat. It's been running well enough, but you've had collisions with two large creatures in about as many days, more or less, so it's good to give things a looksee.

Most things seem in order - no leaks, no dents, no strange noises from your engine (because you're not even sure this boat has an engine, much less where it is or what noises it should make, since the damn thing has always been eerily quiet). Only one thing seems out of place.

There's a... stain? you think? on the front of your boat, a jagged red stain that looks eerily like a mouth. It must be the globster's blood, you tell yourself, except wasn't the globster's blood more of a, like, melonoma black sort of color, that putrescent shade of black that's got other colors mixed in like a mess of spilled paint? And it was chunky when it came out, so how is it smeared so neat and smoothly.

Unless... maybe it's paint? Yeah, that's it, it's paint! How could you forget the cute little shark smile that was painted on your boat, that sharp-toothed painted on grin it's always had as long as you've known it? Of course that smile's always been there, it's probably the reason you picked this boat in the first place whenever... whenever you found it, or bought it, probably? Who wouldn't want the goofy grinning shark boat?

Regardless, nothing is wrong with your boat, as it's in perfectly ship shape. You've got a heading, you've got a working ship, and you've defeated a hideous monster that wanted to eat you and, perhaps worst of all, seemed to be British. If anything calls for celebration, this is it. Going below deck, you break out one of your rarest treasures: a bottle of red wine you found, unopened and of, well, a vintage you hope is good (you don't know shit about wine, you're not Donald Pleasance). It's time to break out the salted meat, cook some of those potatoes you found among the ships, and make a night of it!

You go below deck and make as decent a meal as your conditions with allow, then invite Calibani to eat with you. The two of you share the best meal you've cooked yet, and while the little "ooo's" and "mmm's" Calibani makes while eating show she enjoys the food, you can't help noticing she still looks awfully troubled.

"Did you notice?" you say as you finish your meal. "That it tastes different, I mean."

She nods. "It's good," she says quietly.

"That's cause I found some spices," you say proudly, hoping for a big reaction. But while Calibani smiles, it once again fails to reach her eyes. "Did I oversell how good spices are?" you ask.

"No, no, I'm sorry," she says. "It's really good, best I've had, honest, but..." She looks down at the floor and sighs. "Do you... hate me?"

You stare blankly at her, completely dumbstruck by that question. "What?"

Panic flares behind Calibani's eyes as she throws up her hands and animatedly explains, "It's just that you've been attacked by monsters that want to kill you three days in a row and one of them was me! And the other two are dead - I killed one, we killed the other together, and - and I just don't get it, because you didn't kill me when you could have, and I'm just worried..." She stops her ranting to catch her breath. "I'm worried that you don't like killing and that I've forced you to do it and you hate me for it, or that you hate those creatures for trying to kill you and that means you hate me because I tried to kill you, and I never thought of killing as a personal thing before but now that you put the thought in my mind it's all I'm thinking about and I feel terrible about everything and just - just - do you hate me?"

"Uh... wow," is all you manage to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says quickly, "I didn't mean - oh no, you do hate me, don't you?"

"No, no!" you say just as quickly, your hand instinctively touching your compass. "In fact, I'd go so far to say that my mind keeps being pulled in a direction that likes you quite a lot."

She cocks her head at you and squints, confused by your phrasing despite understanding the jist of it. "Um... well, I mean... why though? I tried to kill you, just like that bird and the... the globster thing we just killed." She looks thoughtfully at the floor. "What makes me different? Why did you spare me?"

That's... actually hard to answer. So, as you do with all hard choices, you consult your compass.

[sunny44]

Chapter 4 (Love is in Mallorca)

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/n goes to Mallorca intending to leave her life behind, at least for a while. Then she meets a mysterious guy who makes this trip, to say the least, unforgettable.

Previous chapter

I woke up with the sun shining intensely through the curtains, announcing another hot day in Mallorca. I rolled over in bed, the sheets tangled around me, and stared at the ceiling. The previous night’s encounter still echoed in my mind like an unfinished melody. With every moment I spent by his side, the feeling that something important was being kept a secret grew, and his silence was starting to weigh on me.

I sighed, slowly getting out of bed. The reflection in the mirror showed a lighter version of myself, someone rediscovering joy in small moments, but also a woman in conflict. Being with him was like walking a tightrope, not knowing when or if I would fall.

As I dressed in something light for the heat of the day, my phone vibrated on the bedside table. It was a message from him. My heart raced automatically. I hated myself a little for it.

“Breakfast? I found a place you’ll love.”

I smiled at the screen. Even with all the uncertainty, there was something in his words that made everything feel simple. It was as if, no matter how complicated the mystery surrounding him, he still wanted to show me the best side of life. And I was willing to accept that — at least for now.

“I’ll be ready in 20 minutes,” I replied, feeling a wave of excitement swell in my chest.

He was waiting for me outside the hotel, leaning against a motorcycle I hadn’t seen before. As I approached, he smiled, a relaxed and confident smile, as if we were about to embark on another little adventure.

“Are you taking me for a ride on a motorcycle now?” I asked, laughing and raising an eyebrow.

“That’s right. I thought the view would look even better this way,” he replied, smiling.

He came closer to me, and carefully, without breaking eye contact, he placed the helmet on me.

Carlos climbed onto the bike, and I sat behind him, my arms hesitating for a second before wrapping around his waist. The contact was electric, but I forced myself to relax, letting the morning breeze carry away the doubts that still lingered in my mind.

The journey was just as he promised: filled with breathtaking views of the island, cliffs that dropped straight into the blue sea, and winding roads that seemed to take us away from everything. The smell of the sea, the sound of the waves, and the thrill of the motorcycle all mixed together, creating a feeling of freedom.

Finally, we arrived at a small seaside village, where he parked the bike. There was a discreet café, hidden among large leafy trees that offered a pleasant shade. The tables were set outdoors, facing the sea. It was the kind of place you’d only find if you were a local or… someone who truly knew the heart of the island.

We sat at a table with a direct view of the water. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the salty air, and the sound of the waves crashing on the nearby beach was calming.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, calling the waiter.

“It’s amazing, as always,” I replied, watching him more closely. He was relaxed, but there was something in his eyes that seemed distant. As if, even in that perfect moment, he was hiding something. “How do you always know the best places?”

He smiled, that reserved smile I was beginning to understand hid more than it revealed.

“I like to explore, and Mallorca has a lot to offer.” He turned his gaze toward the sea, and something in his expression changed. A silence formed between us, thick and almost palpable.

I couldn’t help it. I had to ask, I needed to understand.

“Why do you always seem to avoid talking about yourself?” The words escaped before I could stop them. “I don’t want to be intrusive, but… sometimes it feels like you’re hiding something. Something important.”

He turned to me, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that caught me off guard. The silence that followed was suffocating, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“It’s not that I want to hide,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “It’s just that sometimes, when people know who you are… they see you differently and expect things from you. And I like how you see me now. No labels and no expectations.”

That answer, though evasive, made me understand more than he intended. Whoever he was, he was someone who dealt with judgments, expectations, and perhaps even fame. And he was trying to escape it, at least for a while. With me.

“I think I understand,” I replied softly. “But… you know I’m not the type to judge, right? Whoever you are.”

He gave a sad smile, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, that he was on the verge of telling me everything. But, as always, he held back.

“Let’s enjoy breakfast,” he said, changing the subject with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I promise the coffee here is the best you’ll ever taste.”

And so, once again, the mystery remained. As we ate and chatted about trivial things, the invisible tension between us continued to grow. He wanted to tell me, I knew it. But something was holding him back.

When we finished breakfast, he suggested a walk on the beach. We strolled side by side, with the sun shining high above and the sea gently lapping at the sand. For a while, it felt like we were in our own world, no rush, no worries.

But as the afternoon wore on, the doubt began to weigh on me again. I wanted to know him, wanted to understand who he really was. And I knew that eventually, I would need to push this conversation. But, for now, I decided to give him more time.

In that moment, as we walked along the beach, I realized that, regardless of what I would come to discover about him, I was already deeply involved. Perhaps even more than I cared to admit.

And him? He seemed to know that too.

Still, the silence between us continued, and with it, the weight of what remained unsaid.

Whatever came next, I knew it would change everything.

Bonus scene!

Privy/n Instagram stories

“I’m having the best vacation ever”

@lieslostinsilence @iloveallmyboys @r4zberrygirl @hoya122 @sid-is-gr8 @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @barcelonaloverf1life @dark-night-sky-99 @willowsnook @thegirlamongthestars

Next chapter

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

I have a friend who is a Christian who has started accepting LGBT lifestyles and claiming they are not actually sinful. Me and my friends have had meetings with them and given scripture but they refute it every single time and call us unloving. They don’t believe God actually said it’s a sin to be gay/trans and encourage other Christians to embrace the lifestyle to get closer to God. We aren’t even sure they read their Bible anymore, and if they do we aren’t sure how they can possibly ignore what it says. We have tried so many times to lovingly correct and they continue to tell people to go and sin because Gods word is outdated. What should we do now?

I’m so sorry to hear you’re going through that. Be encouraged that you were able to stand firm on the truth and loved your friend enough to offer correction.

As a random guy on the internet, I don’t have answers for what steps you should take in your situation or what your friend needs. I can only speak generally from the Scriptures. This is why the local church is important. Your pastor/mature Christian friend or leader can offer you much better wisdom and possess much better understanding of your situation up close than I can from a distance.

Ultimately “What you should do now” can only be determined through prayer and walking by faith in what you believe God has called you to do based on His Word. Here are few things I believe His Word says that would be helpful for situations like these.

Most importantly, only God can change a person’s heart. We can bring all the sound biblical arguments that we want, but our faith must be in God (1 Cor 2:4-5). It’s not our job to convince anyone, only lovingly present them with truth and action the way Jesus would and surrender them into His care. If there is a professing Christian who is falling for Satan’s lies, the Spirit weeps over that (Isaiah 63:10; Heb 10:29). God loves sinners and calls us to believe He has the power and desire to rescue those blinded by lies and imprisoned by sin (Isaiah 61:1).

If we believe that God wants to save people and is the only one who can save people, then before we do anything we must pray, pray, pray, and pray some more. Then when we are done praying, go and get some more believers and pray with them.

Ephesians 6:19

praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints

Phil 4:6

do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

Luke 18:7

And will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them?

Matthew 18:19-20

Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

That last one is really important because in context Jesus is commanding us to pray together for the restoration of a sinning brother. When we pray together seeking God's will for helping those in need of His grace, we can be sure that He will respond and help us know what we need to do with confidence that it is right.

As we pray together with fellow believers for God's grace to work in the lives of those we love, we will find God working in our hearts to shape us into the image of Christ so that we can be used by Him the way He wants. Then we can act in faith to share what the sinning believer needs to know.

Matthew 18 also tells us that if the sinning believer refuses to repent, even after going to him/her with two or three witnesses and elders and even the whole church, then we surrender them to their choices and put them out of the church. If they don't want to follow God's ways, then they don't need to be in God's church. Let them live like the world and trust that God will do what is right.

I will be praying for you and for your friend as well.

[killorbekillian]

interview tomorrow! fingers crossed bc i hate my job!

[tenebrous-dream]

ok i still think that the first style boutique/savvy game is the worst in the series, but im playing it a lot recently (after not really touching it in a while) and its better than i remember it being

[evilkitten3]

au where there's like a paperwork error and sasuke ends up on team eight. but no one else's placement changes. so kakashi has to deal with just naruto and sakura, who isn't filtering herself at all. or better yet, sasuke gets swapped with kiba, so kakashi has to deal with three loudmouth hotheads, one of whom can just track him down whenever he's late.

meanwhile kurenai's first lesson is homicide 101 and sasuke thinks he just hit the team jackpot

[pbnmj]

Genuinely curious, what’s up with Noir’s age? And what does it have to do with his 08/09 run? ((You may ignore if you wish :D))

i no longer have to do an extremely long explaination about comics noir because it has already been done here, by foolsocracy!!!!!!! really great breakdown of his very vague age, which is never said outright in the 08-09 run, only implied!! my own personal take on this is that he's 17-turning-18 in the first one, just about graduated high school but not able to afford college (see the panel below LOL)

this also got a little longer than i thought it would, so under the cut for the rest of it! the tl:dr is "itsv!noir is not the same as comics!noir, and people saying that he's 19 isn't strictly true. to me, he's around 30!"

eyes without a face (the 09 run!!) only takes place 8 months after, in september 1933, which makes peter 18-turning-19. this is more of a headcanon though!! (see the noir birthday poll, which made me a noir-is-a-december-baby truther)

(peter being a libra is mentioned once in the first issue of amazing spider-man (2015), mostly as a punchline, and a specific date of october 10th was given in another issue that i have lost. other media, like with the mcu, has his birthday on august 10th. but to me noir is a sagittarius and you cannot pry that from me)

the 2020 run of noir begins establishing the year as 1939, making peter around his mid-20s, and 25 if you believe me on the 'peter was 17 in noir 2008' LOL.... i won't lie though i haven't read this one properly i very quickly skimmed so pinch of salt regarding my takes on the 2020 run

noir being in his teens during the first original runs is why "itsv!noir is 17-19" goes around so often! i've seen that on tumblr, twitter AND on tiktok and i don't mind what people hc, but it has become a pet peeve when people say it like its canon even though it's never been mentioned by the writers or the art book. itsv!noir is similar to his comic counterpart, but his differences in his origin story make me interpret him as a different noir (like how peter b.'s dimension is 616B, making him... 90214B?)

again, we are straying from itsv canon/etc here because i'm deranged, but i personally hc noir as being 32! some of my friends think he's in his mid-20s, others think he's older, but really the only reason is that 32 is the midpoint between the other two peter parkers: ripeter was 26 and peter b is 38. he's also voiced by nic cage, which makes me think older in the first place!

i just like the idea that he's more experienced that ripeter, but hasn't gone through as much as peter b. he spends most of the movie being broody ("moral ambiguity of your actions!", "matches burn down to my fingertips", etc etc), or snarkier than you'd expect ("it's that easy" "who are you again?" "you gonna fight or are you just bumping gums" etc etc). he also very sweetly tells everyone that he loves them before he leaves !!! i feel like it can in fact be in character for a peter parker in his late 20-early 30s, distanced from his tragedies in his own world by time (he doesn't forget them, that's different !) being able to look out for the spiders around him.

okay now we are VERY deep into hc territory, but it makes him able to balance out the rest of the itsv spider-gang as an older-brother figure who's able to guide peni, miles and gwen but also be able to act as a voice of reason for peter b. and ham if the sitauation calls for it. that being said noir is still peter parker and is therefore capable of spider-esque tomfoolery, which can lead to him misjudging the need for a snarky one liner ("this is a pretty hard core origin story"). my characterisation of him is also very inspired by heyitsspiderman, the itsv fic that changed me for the better, and noir isn't even in it that much LOL

veering back into itsv!noir's age and your actual question though: he's always read older in the movies, and not at all 17-19. noir is always going to be around 30 (32 if i have to give a number) to me!! if anything, he did go through the same kind of 'canon events' as comics noir did, but is an older and more experienced version of him, with tweaks to the backstory (like a radioactive spider instead of a spider-god, and webshooters instead of organic webbing). there are reasons ofc to see him being younger (egg creams are non-alcoholic, and that if it's 1933, his comicsverse self would be 18-19 too) . however you must consider that sony didn't expand on this and therefore it's up to fan interpretation and also that

[mr-stottlemonk]

made a timeline for monk tv for the folks cause it makes no sense sometimes.

[more in the tags]

[update: stottlemeyer's timeline found here]

[girlwiththegreenhat]

every time i take a peek through the transformers section at target, i miss the transformers animated toyline a little more

[carcarrot]

well that was a shortlived good feeling about my job