#(everything is so funny and they can't help it)

[infinityinakiss]

Do you have top 3 pazzi pics?

edit: so i'm blind and can't read apparently and i made this whole list cause i thought you said fics. just pretend you asked for fics cause i don't have the heart to delete this and i'll make another post with my pics. this is so embarrassing for me.

it'd be easier to pick a favorite child, man. i'm gonna spotlight a couple (a ton) of authors with my favorite fics by them, but just know i am absolutely in love with anything they write. this post is about to be so long.

@imaginespazzi - anything nivi writes is a godsend. golden hour broke me a thousand different ways, as i'm sure it did many other people, but if you like a fluffy fic, i reread their here's to eternity series whenever i wanna smile at my screen like an idiot.

@luvergirl-535 - actually so good and so funny, her that's so true series is like the perfect mixture of comedy and angst. she's such a wholehearted author, i love her writing so much.

@loeysoi - everything she writes is so beautiful. she says her favorite fic that she's written is thinking of you (while i'm up here), but i've got such a soft spot for weren't we the salt in the sea. lyra, if you see this, your writing is so lovely and if you'd like to update salt in the sea, i wouldn't be opposed.

@azzibuckets - trying to pick one thing that cessa's written is giving me anxiety, so just read all of it. also, follow her and put her notifs on, she's so funny. literally such a beautiful person to follow online.

@bucketgetter535 - wanna feel like you're 15 again and it is all so bright and fireflies aren't going extinct, but also everything is insanely complicated and nobody will tell you anything? read their fic this is not a cry for help (but it might be). i personally love writing that reads like thoughts, that doesn't try to be anything less than it is, and this fic is it. (also there is a little soft spot in my heart for i don't even like her.)

@theseh00perscanh00p - genuinely one of my favorite authors on here, reading their writing is like being given a tight hug (most of the time at least, this new series has been tearing my heart out.) par for the heart is so sweet, not very angsty, and i just love paige and azzi's character voice in it.

@raevpng - rae, i love your writing so fucking much, i basically live in your anons because you're so good and i feel the need to constantly glaze you. i am actually so obsessed with their new series only you, go read it now if you know what's good for you. their one shots are so incredible, bags is a personal favorite of mine.

@azzibueckers5 - their series i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) is one of my top rereads, it's truly so well written and emotional and just everything that i don't think i can fully articulate how much i love it without kissing them on the cheeks like an italian grandma.

@sowerpatch - i've been so hooked on their series terms of play, the tension and the dynamic is so good and so addictive. paige in this fic has balls the size of australia and it always makes my jaw drop.

so yeah. there's my very short and sweet top 3 pazzi fics. totally didn't go overboard.

psa: i love that here it's normal to send an anon so you can really show the authors how much you appreciate em. but it has broken my heart to see people abuse the very thing i love about the fandom to make authors feel unsafe. this is your daily reminder that fic authors are people too and they have their own lives besides writing. try not to hound them too much about when they're gonna update, and always give them grace. they are creating beautiful art for free because they love to. don't ruin that for them.

and if you threaten authors and run them off the internet because they fear for their safety, you are the actual scum of the earth.

[lululocomo]

After seeing the Xiaotian abduction post, my brain came up with a strange but in a way funny scenario.

Tripitaka is abducted again, but the pilgrims cannot cope with the Demon Lord, so Wukong leaves to ask for help from Heaven. Before that, he asks his pilgrim brothers to look after his cub. Xiaotian is a little tired of being constantly taken care of, and therefore, in the absence of Wukong, persuades the others to come up with a plan with him to save the monk. Or he'll just quietly run away from them.

And of course, the plan is ingeniously stupid. Xiaotian goes to the Demon Lord's lair and, provoking him, pretends to be defeated and allows him to be captured. Once inside, Xiaotian avoids the guards like a shadow and searches for the Tripitaka. But unfortunately, the Demon Lord's child gets caught. Xiaotian accidentally charms a young demon and he helps to find Tripitaka and free him... But he doesn't let Xiaotian leave.

And now the gods and pilgrims have to restrain Wukong from destroying and killing everything and everyone around him because the demon's offspring wants to make Xiaotian his mate.

And Xiaotian doesn't even understand what's really going on because of his poor knowledge of demonic customs. He just thinks that the young demon is obsessively friendly and out of politeness is waiting for his dad to pick him up.

Omg I love the idea dfgdf Wukong trust MK to protect the pilgrims but never expected for him to go on a rescue mission on his own- Poor MK who have no idea what's going on and just want to leave but can't 😭

Wukong would managed to free MK from this situation without killing anyone (but not without damaged ) and scolded Xiaotian for doing this plan without telling him first dfgdf and they both agree to not tell Macaque about it 😌

[mona-risms]

Okay hear me out. Polytrix x reader with reader being their coreographer but when they train they have a vibrator that's just slowly buzzes all troughout and if they mess up a move reader would just turn it off but if they manage to get to the end without mistakes reader would turn it to the max and make them cum until their legs shake, but afterwards they still have to do more practice and in the end they're just edged beyond believe and desperately begging reader to just mess them up in frint of the big wall mirror <33

Also may i be 🎨 anon 🫶

First of all, yes you can!! Welcome 🎨 :3c. Second of all, no fuckin wonder Rumi's muscle memory kicked in when it did during Takedown LMAOOOOO it's a fucking Pavlovian reflex by that point 😭

They SWEAR to you that it's completely beneficial. In fact, they say it's an incentive!! To do better!!!! Bc it's very fun and very effective!!!!!!! No it's not unprofessional (it is technically) and it's not a distraction (it definitely is), but honestly when you get results like how sharp they are with choreo? Literally why would you ever debate otherwise??? Clearly it's working soooooo..... It's most definitely funny as fuck when they see reviews and stuff ab how their choreo's so sharp and smooth and whatever, and maybe they even get asked ab it, to which they just. Thank you for your service 😜 and no one will know the wiser

They all just have different colour-coded vibrators inside them ("fun-coloured and fun-sized", thanks to Zoey LMAO), all at different settings that'd count as their individual 'minimum' aka what they can definitely feel and get absolutely dripping wet and sexually frustrated over but nowhere near enough to push them off the edge. Imagine even slowly turning up the intensity as the three of them progress through the choreo you taught them, whether it be via turning it up based on the part's difficulty level or inching it closer and closer up the closer the song gets to the end. You even get them to sing while doing the choreo too, bc how could they EVER think of being the top-charting idols if they can't even sing through a number and perform perfectly while they have distractions threatening to throw their concentration and mobility coordination out the window? Honestly, you're being a good choreographer by helping them here!!!!

By the end of it their panties are absolutely soaked through from the edging and the overstim and constant switch and everything and NONE of YOUR touches, and unless they've done a Particularly shit job, it always ends with you making sure that the trio gets a turn in being eaten out and fucked through; they're begging you to give them a reward, and honestly why wouldn't you, when they've done and will do their very best?

There's a reason why their dance studio's soundproofed and always locked whenever you lot are using it 😁

[kurizz]

Pink Poly Club (miromabby) Part 3

click for part 2

Summary: They successfully dashed out of the studio. But it started raining heavily outside, making it unsafe to drive. Mira, not wanting to let them know where she lives, ended up at their place instead. She needed to relax after being stressed out by that interview.

Word count: 1127

a/n: gotta clarify that it's an alternate universe where the saja boys are regular humans.

-----

Maybe she should’ve just checked into a hotel. But after that stunt they pulled earlier, that would've been a terrible idea. Without Bobby or the rest of the company staff around, people would gather and ask questions. Too many questions.

Mira sank into their couch with a weary sigh, tossing her feet up on the small table. “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she muttered. “I just needed to relax, so I took the offer.”

“Hot cocoa? Something to drink?” Romance lazily called from the kitchen, clinking around in the cabinets. “Abs, turn up the heater. It's freezing in here.”

“On it,” Abby replied, already moving.

He was right—it was getting cold.

Mira stared out through the tall windows, the curtains were pushed to the side. It displayed how the rain lashed the glass in harsh, steady bursts. Bobby was probably still pacing, worried sick about where she’d gone after ducking out of the studio earlier than scheduled. She had told him the truth. Not that it helped. It only added to his worries. 

The girls would surely want in on everything. She’d tell them when they meet. For now, her phone was shut. She needed to relax.

“Once the rain stops, I’m heading home.”

Romance hummed. She hadn’t even answered his question.

“Feet down, please,” he called out, holding two mugs of hot cocoa.

She dropped her feet on the floor quickly.

He set one mug in front of her. “Here. Have a drink.”

“I didn’t say I wanted one.”

He slowly raised a brow, “I’ll drink it then. You sure you don’t want it?”

“I…I’ll have it,” she grumbled, grabbing the mug from the table.

The couch creaked as Abby plopped down beside her, leaning in towards the mug in her hands. “Careful, it’s hot. Let me help.”

He wrapped his hands over hers and guided the cup closer to his mouth, trying to blow away the steam.

Mira recoiled, eyes wide. “Stop! You’re getting your saliva all over it!”

Abby paused, stunned. Romance slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Mira was fuming, she wanted to pull the mug away from Abby but she was careful not to spill it.

Abby let go and slumped back, turning his head away like a kicked puppy. Was he sulking now?

Romance drew in a deep breath, trying to keep it together. That earned him a glare from Abby, “You’re really enjoying this.”

Romance grinned. “Don’t be mad just because I’m her favorite.”

Abby turned his glare on Mira.

She returned it right back. “I don’t like either of you. I could’ve blown on it myself.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“By spitting on my drink?”

Abby’s ears turned red, his glare was more of a pout than a threat. Why did that make him kind of…cute?

“Forget it.”

“I can't drink this anymore,” Mira grumbled, setting the mug down. She leaned her back onto the couch and rubbed her cold hands together. Abby got up and walked away. What, is he more upset now?

“Have mine instead. I haven't taken a sip yet.” Romance offered, sitting beside her.

“…thanks, if you don't mind.”

She took one sip and welcomed the warmth that entered her system. The cocoa tasted so good. But she wouldn't say that out loud. It helped rid her of the cold a bit. She needed the warmth from the drink that badly.

Romance and Mira drank hot cocoa in complete silence. The sound of harsh rain was filling up the room for them. She glanced at him sideways, wondering how long he’d stay quiet. Oddly, it felt comforting.

Then, there were loud footsteps. She paid it no mind and focused on her drink, knowing it was just Abby coming back to the living room. His steps grew closer. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, the fresh lavender scent engulfed her senses. She was pleasantly surprised. So, that’s what he was up to.

Abby also tossed one blanket to Romance. He was wrapped in one himself, a small frown still evident on his lips. He said nothing and only sat on her other side—the one unoccupied by Romance—in silence.

Mira sighed, giving in. “Thanks,” she whispered softly.

Abby pretended not to look pleased, “No problem.”

He wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. Romance was still sipping on his cup.

There it was again. That stretch of silence surrounding them. If it weren't for the rain, she would've assumed that her hearing was gone.

Normally, they were chatty. Teasing her left and right, trying to get a reaction out of her. She wasn't sure if she preferred this side over their playful side. This definitely was new. She hummed in thought, setting down her mug once she finished drinking.

“I didn't get to say thank you earlier.” she paused, waiting for them to respond. Once they didn't, she kept going. “You must've known I was uncomfortable so you took me out of there.”

“Not sure what you mean.” Romance pretended to be fascinated by his mug, he wouldn't even look at her.

“Don't start thinking we did it for you.” Abby murmured, “…because we did.”

This time, it was her turn not to respond. They did it first, anyway.

Out of nowhere, Abby rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Just a few minutes…I won't do anything else.”

His voice was low and soft. It had a mild pleading tone to it that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. He was way too close, the heat from his body threatened to consume her. She couldn't help but fix her posture—it only made Abby scoot closer.

Romance sighed, grabbing her attention. He nuzzled his head on the other side of her shoulder, “I can't help it anymore. Give me a few minutes too, Mira.”

“What are you guys…”

She didn't know what to do. That awful fuzziness she felt in her chest was clearly trouble. She doesn't need it, go away. Why is she giving in…clearly it must be the weather. It's messing up with her way of thinking.

She plopped her head back, her gaze softening as it met the ceiling. She wouldn't admit it, but this felt nice. Being wrapped in a blanket and almost cuddled up amidst the heavy rain outside made her slightly woozy, her eyelids getting heavy.

She closed her eyes, but reminded herself not to sleep. She's just going to rest for a bit. Just for a bit. It’s fine.

Minutes went by.

Abby noticed the rain had subsided, so he pointed it out.

Weirdly enough, Mira hadn't had the urge to get up and leave anymore, but she had to go. She had to go before they let the moment carry them away.

-----

a/n: still getting a hang of this thing. btw, my fingers were itching not to italicize almost everything. also, golden is just so good of a song but so hard to sing—my voice cracked like rumi in their practice. probably the only thing we have in common.

author's note? no. author's ramble.

@suzieq1948374 @unmooredandfulloftrepidation

[ghouljams]

gaz. wife 4. 10 years from now. pretty please what’s it look like

It's funny how even after a decade love can still find ways hurt you.

You sob against Kyle's side watching your son wave to you from the front entrance of his new dorm. You raise a hand to wave back, trying to look presentable, as he turns with a grin and walks back inside. Kyle helped him carry the last of his bags upstairs more than a half hour ago and you've been delaying this as long as you could. Your baby boy... you miss him already.

"He'll be alright," Kyle assures you, "and we'll see him on fall break."

He's right, you know he's right. Kyle managed to talk your son out of enlisting, and for that you're grateful, but it's still hard letting him go. Your little boy is still so young, even for all his insistence that he's an adult now. He's the same age you were when you married his father. You'd thought you were so grown up back then, but watching your son... God you were just a child. A silly little girl playing pretend.

"You want something to eat, love?" Kyle asks, "Past lunch."

You scrub at your eyes, sniffle a little as you nod. Kyle wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you back to the car. You blow your nose, crinkling your nearly empty tissue package to get another when the first gets too wet to continue using. Kyle hums along to the radio, and when you peak at him you're relieved to see his eyes are a little puffy too. You've known for a long time that he thinks of your kids as his own. Your daughter has called him "dad" for long enough for you to know the feeling is mutual.

Still, there's a selfish part of you that wishes you'd been able to do it all on your own, that you didn't need Kyle as much as you do. Even now he's taking care of you, making sure to pick up the pieces of your bittersweet heart so you can assure your daughter that everything went well at dinner. Kyle takes his hand off the gear shift and settles it on your knee. His fingers squeeze their reassurance. You're doing a good job.

It still breaks your heart to hear it. Too many years without so much as a glance of praise, sure you'd never do anything to deserve it, and now Kyle showers you in it. It makes your stomach twist. It makes you think about marriage and permanence, about two names on a mortgage, and about the way men change when they back you into a corner. You still can't say the words out loud.

"I love you" forms on your tongue like a curse rather than a promise. One you won't doom either of you to.

[conchoronzon]

Hi, I love CV Vore and your stories are simply great. I have a predator boyfriend who lets me watch every now and then, which always turns me on, and I've been wondering a question for a long time that my boyfriend couldn't really answer, or maybe didn't want to. 🙈🙈 So I'm asking you: When a CV predator devours someone and digests them in its testicles, do the predators feel no pity for the victim if it were a friend, for example, or no pity in general? How is that?

Hm... That's not so simple a question. You know, there are non-preds who eat meat and feel bad for the whatever animal ultimately ends up in their gut. Some don't care at all. Some get so overwhelmed, they become vegetarians or vegans. There are lots of reactions, and that's how it is with preds.

Lots of factors go into this. Is the prey willing or unwilling? Does the cock pred mostly digest using his cum or does he crunch them up with his balls? Does he have the sort of sack that makes digestion goopy and pleasurable or the type that's graphic and painful? Do his prey tend to stay awake through digestion or is there some means by which they fall asleep before they truly get to melting? Is the prey a reforming type? What's the pred planning on doing with their load: eat it, waste it, fuck it in someone, save it, or get someone pregnant with it?

There are a lot of questions that can help you figure out if a pred might be the kind to feel pity or even guilt for making someone into their cock snack.

Imagine this: You're one of your boyfriend's friends. You know he churns guys into big fat fuckin' loads. One day on break from college, you come out to your family, and your step-dad calls you all sorts of names. You vent or cry to your friend, and next thing you know, you're sat on his bedroom floor, watching as his sack churns that homophobic man into a cum shot that your friend half-splatters on the walls and half-pumps into your guts. He's a good friend. After that, you can't stop thinking about it. When you hang out with him - one-on-one, in public, at parties, whatever - you glance at his bulge. You wonder about the last person you ate. You wonder if it's so plump because he eats guys or not. You remember how full he made you. It's slow at first. You think about it every now and then. But then you go online. You look at vornos and read stories about it. One day, you find that's all you jerk off to, the idea of melting away in your friend's nuts. You dream about getting married and taking a honeymoon with your future husband down his cock; nothing more romantic than getting churned together by the best man. So one day, you guys are having a few drinks, and you confess. You're not in love with him or anything, but you do want to be his cockfood. He claims he couldn't do that to a friend. But then a few weeks later, he shows up at your door. "It's all I've been able to think about." And that's your last night on this earth. He stuffs you into his cock and teases you as he melts you down, asking if this was as good as you thought it'd be. He soaks your bedroom in white and collects some of you in a little jar. He stores it to decide what to do with some other time. He only does that for his favorite prey.

You tell me: if that were you, would you want to be pitied? You'd be getting what you wanted, what you need.

Now, did I write that scenario in the second person to really get you to think what it'd be like for your boyfriend to churn you to cum? Am I trying to get it so you start fantasizing about it, getting jealous about the squirming guys you watch him melt? Of course. It'd be really funny to me if asking this question leads to you getting sloshed. Your boyfriend probably will pity you as you get churned. He'll feel guilty. He might get mad at me. But oh well.

That's all to say, context is everything, my friend

[respectfulrebel]

^^ me reading this chapter 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

I love them so much, I love him, I love her, I love their banter, I love their slowly building romance, I love their softness for one another ughhh 😭😭😭

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words were out of your mouth, trying to sound casual and not like you had been thinking about him every single minute since you last saw him.

"What if I came too?"

🥺🥺🥺🥺 oh baby girl, you’re so in love with him

"That man is in love with you."

Amber gets it!

Amber's voice gentled. "You mean you wanted to be wherever Noah was."

Yes she does 🥺🥺🥺

"It's not like I planned this. I didn't go looking for it. It's just... God, when I'm with him, it's like my brain shuts up. Everything goes quiet and he is so fucking kind and funny and sweet and he deserves way better that all of this. And I'm just-"

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this is so beautiful

"You should break up with Kole."

YEEESSSS PLEASE

"I can't just walk away from Kole. I still... care about him, okay?

Why???? He’s an ass 🫢

That stung, mostly because it was true. You felt it in your chest, that ache you kept trying to ignore every time Kole kissed you and you were starting to feel nothing. And every time Noah looked at you and you felt everything.

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

Noah watched them with an amused smile as they took turns throwing punches, with more enthusiasm than technique, their little hands wrapped in tape.

Noah would be a great dad 🫢

"Promise me?" Noah pressed.

"Promise," they said together.

🥺🥺🥺🥺 I love him

"Maybe she'll surprise you. Maybe she'll come just to see you."

I love those kids 🥺🥺🥺🥺 little matchmakers

When he lifted his head, as if he felt your eyes on him, your gazes locked.

"Okay. Then... thank you for coming. And yeah..." his voice softened, "I'm glad to see you."

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 asdfghjklpuzxd

Then you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

SCREAMINGGGG 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

He froze for a moment, startled, and then his arms came around you. One hand rested carefully on your back, fingers pressing lightly, like he was afraid to hold on too tightly.

And when you caught yourself thinking that you could happily spend the rest of your life waking up to the scent of him, your head tucked against his neck, in bed, with him, you realized you were doomed.

Stoooooooopp 🥺🥺🥺🥺 AAAAAAA this is too good 😭😭😭

He wasn't brutal. He didn't want to hurt him more, not like the man that kept hitting him when Noah was already on the ground, bleeding and basically passed out.

Yeah because he is good 🥺🥺🥺

He was bleeding.

He was breathless.

And he was so fucking beautiful.

The blond guy was sitting on the ground, slumped back against the wall, his legs half-stretched in front of him, his chest still quickly rising and falling, damp strands of hair sticking to his bloody forehead. And Noah was walking toward him with slow and quiet steps.

So that was the guy from the teaser? He went to help himmmmm???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I’m gonna cry 😭😭

You hadn't moved, still frozen near the door with Noah's hoodie clutched to your chest. The rain had found you now too, cold drops threading through your hair, dampening your clothes.

ARE THEY GONNA KISS IN THE RAIN?????? 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Don't make me feel like I deserve to be with someone like you."

But you dooooooo

You lifted your hand, slowly, so he could stop you if he wanted, and let your fingertips touch his cheek. Just beneath the bruise. Light. Careful.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my godddd

His hand, still wrapped, came up slowly, almost hesitantly, and covered yours, pressing your palm more firmly to his face. His fingers curled slightly, holding your hand like there.

MY HEART IS POUNDING 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Your gaze dropped to his lips without meaning to. They were parted slightly, his breath shallow, warm against your skin in the close air between you. He leaned in just a little, and you didn't move, couldn't have if you wanted to.

He didn't pull away. His eyes searched yours, like you didn't make any sense but somehow he still could understand.

"And you're not happy."

"I know."

I AM SCREAMING 😭😭😭😭

But then, slowly, he pulled back.

NOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭 but.. but.. the raaain??? The haaaand?? The loooooks? 😭😭😭

And you looked.

You couldn't not look.

Girl, I don’t blame you 😩

"Do you still have the scissors?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"I'm gonna steal them."

🤭🤭🤭 this whole conversation was so cute

"You totally did pigtails at least once."

CUUUUTE 🤭🤭🤭

"Yeah but, I mean" he nodded toward his hands. "You're good at being gentle."

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 stop ittttt

While somewhere else in the same building, Kole was laughing with his friends, a bottle in one hand and a pretty girl with dark curls perched on his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist as he told her yes, of course they'd see each other again, his girlfriend would never find out.

WAS THE CHEATING TW FOR HIMMMMMM??????? 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢 I did not see this coming 😬 fucking asshole, I hope he gets fucked up (by Noah) ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

Ughhhh the tensionnnnn 🥺 but it’s good tension, like soft, between them, you know? I love this so much 😭😭😭😭

Also on a different note, I made the sandwich

And you know what? It was actually pretty good, I can definitely see that being a childhood favourite 🥺 but it needed more pickles, preferably more sour 🙂‍↕️

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

Pairing: underground fighter! noah x reader

Series summary: You’re dragged to watch an illegal fight, and after the match, you meet Noah, a fighter who seems to be battling more than just his opponents.

Tw: fighting, blood, cheating

Series mastelist

It was still early morning. You were in the kitchen, sat at the small table, cupping your hands around your mug.

Kole stood leaning against the counter, thumbs moving rapidly across his phone screen, barely looking up. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he hadn’t said much yet, just grunted a “morning” when you walked in and he was already in the room.

He smirked at something on his screen. "I’m going to a match tonight."

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Don’t wait up.”

“Alright.”

A moment passed. You took a sip of your coffee, trying to seem casual. Then he added, glancing up from his phone, “Word is your friend Sebastian has a decent shot at winning tonight.”

You froze with your mug halfway to your lips. Your eyes flicked to his, trying not to look startled. He was teasing you, sure, but that sounded like it was actually true.

Noah.

Noah was fighting tonight.

You hadn’t known. You hadn’t planned for this.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words were out of your mouth, trying to sound casual and not like you had been thinking about him every single minute since you last saw him. “What if I came too?”

Kole looked up for real this time. “You? You hate that place.”

“I know,” you said quickly, “I do. But... I don’t know. Lately, we haven’t really had time together. Between our work schedules and you being out most nights... I thought maybe we could just do something together, even if it’s just this.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

A pause. Then he shrugged, going back to his phone. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll pick you up after work.”

“Perfect.” You smiled.

You sipped your coffee again, and stared down into the dark swirl inside your mug. Your stomach was twisting.

Because you’d just lied to your boyfriend.

Because you knew it wasn’t about spending time with him. Not really.

It was about Noah. And about the fact you were really dying to see him again and wanted to make sure he was okay after the fight.

After a couple of hours, you were at the tattoo shop.

Amber sat on the other side of the counter, perched on a stool, sipping from a to-go cup she’d brought in from the café down the street. She was wearing a bright red leather jacket and had her sunglasses pushed up into her hair, twirling a sugar packet between her fingers, focused on what you were saying.

It seemed like Nick kind of liked Amber, he never said anything when she came by the shop, even if she wasn’t there for a tattoo, but just because she wanted to chat with you inbetween calls. And after she posted those stories of her new tattoo on Instagram, the shop’s account gained over a hundred new followers overnight. So really, no one could complain about her being around.

“…and then he just showed up here. Said he wanted to say hi and see the place.” You continued.

"That man is in love with you."

"Amber, what the fuck?" 

"He borrowed his neighbor’s car, drove for an hour, and tracked down where you worked, armed with nothing but the name, just to see you."

You looked at her like she was delirious. "We are just friends."

"How can I believe you when you have that face when you talk about him?"

"What face?"

"A face of someone who is madly in love." She said before adding, "with someone that is not Kole. You’ve got that dumb little twisty look on your face. Like when you lied to your mom in high school and told her you didn’t like that guy from the gas station who wore leather bracelets.”

You gave her a deadpan stare. “That was one time.”

“It’s the same look,” she said.

You covered your face with your hands. “God. I’m such a mess.”

Amber laughed, moving her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “And also a bad liar.”

“He’s fighting tonight.”

She straightened.  “And let me guess… you’re going?”

“Yeah,” you said, avoiding her gaze.

“With Kole?”

You hesitated. “I told him I wanted to go. To spend time together. But…”

Amber’s mouth twisted. “But really, you’re going for Noah.”

You didn’t say anything.

She sighed, soft but not judging. “You gonna tell Kole that?”

“I can’t. And I won’t. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong. I just want to be there.”

Amber’s voice gentled. “You mean you wanted to be wherever Noah was.”

“I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “It’s not like I planned this. I didn’t go looking for it. It’s just... God, when I’m with him, it’s like my brain shuts up. Everything goes quiet and he is so fucking kind and funny and sweet and he deserves way better that all of this. And I'm just—”

"In love with him." Amber finished your sentence.

You looked at her, said nothing.

And that silence spoke for you. Because Amber knew. You both knew.

"I don't know what to do," you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You should break up with Kole.”

You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands, fingers twisting the edge of a random piece of paper on the counter, until it tore. “I don’t even know if Noah likes me like that.”

Amber tilted her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Please stop.”

You didn’t look up.

“I’m serious,” she went on. “You’re telling me the man used the sidewalk rule, and you’re still wondering if he likes you?”

You gave a small, helpless shrug. “Maybe he’s just… like that.”

“Sweetheart, open your eyes.”

You covered your face again. “I can’t just walk away from Kole. I still... care about him, okay? When we got together we were just teenagers... basically kids. I basically grew up with him by my side.”

Amber’s voice softened. “I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just saying staying with someone you don’t love anymore is a slow way to kill both of you.”

That stung, mostly because it was true. You felt it in your chest, that ache you kept trying to ignore every time Kole kissed you and you were starting to feel nothing. And every time Noah looked at you and you felt everything.

“I just need time,” you said quietly.

Amber looked at you for a second. “Okay,” she said. “Just… don’t let it be too much.”

You nodded. “No. I’ll figure it out soon. I promise.”

“Good,” she said, reaching out to squeeze your wrist gently. “You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know. Thank you.”

There was a pause then, she didn’t say anything else for a moment, just sipped her coffee and looked around the shop like she was giving you the space to breathe. Then, with a small smile, she said:

“You know I’m gonna want to meet him, right?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Noah.”

You groaned. “Oh my God, Amber—”

“No, I’m serious,” she grinned. “You bring him to breakfast one day. I’ll be nice. I just wanna know what the hell kind of man makes you turn into this.”

You narrowed your eyes. “This?”

She gestured to your whole body, dramatically. “This. All blushy and dreamy and heart-eyed and trying to act like you’re not.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Yeah, cause that wouldn’t be weird at all. ‘Hi Noah, this is my best friend Amber, she thinks we’re in love and would like to interrogate you over pancakes.’”

Amber shrugged. “I mean, you are in love.”

You rolled your eyes. Just then, Nick, tattooing a woman’s leg a little ways off, called out, "Hey, can you come here for a second?"

You stood up and started to walk over.

Amber’s voice followed you. "Don’t do anything stupid tonight."

You sighed. "I’m not the one stepping into a ring to fight."

Miles and Theo stood in the building's biggest room, as Noah had promised them. The heavy punching bag hung low from the ceiling, swinging slightly every time it was nudged.

Noah watched them with an amused smile as they took turns throwing punches, with more enthusiasm than technique, their little hands wrapped in tape.

“Easy, easy!” he called out, stepping forward to show them how to keep their wrists straight. “You don’t want to hurt your hands. Punch with your whole body, not just your arms.”

Theo swung a bit too hard and staggered backward, both boys breaking into laughter.

“See?” Noah grinned. “This isn’t just about hitting hard. It’s about control. Balance. Timing.”

The kids exchanged mischievous looks, then started a mock boxing match with each other, giggling and dodging. Noah shook his head, trying to keep a straight face as Theo pretended to throw a knockout punch that sent Miles sprawling onto the ground.

“You guys are gonna be pros in no time.” he joked.

Then, his tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious as he crouched down a bit, to their level. “But hey, you need to promise me one thing.”

The boys nodded.

“No fighting in that place. Not in that ring. Not anywhere like it.”

Theo frowned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not a good place. People get hurt there. Really hurt. What they do, what we do... is not nice. Or funny.  ”

“Okay,” Miles simply said.

“Promise me?” Noah pressed.

“Promise,” they said together.

Noah smiled softly, ruffling their hair. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

They kept punching the bag and pretending to fight for almost an hour. Then, they finally slowed down and sat on the ground to take a break.

Miles looked at Noah, his eyes curious. “Hey, have you seen that girl again?”

Noah chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead as he sat cross-legged between them. “Yeah, I’ve seen her.”

Theo’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s not your girlfriend yet, is she?”

Noah let out a long, amused sigh. “Still with that question, huh? No, she’s not.”

Miles exchanged a look with Theo, clearly unconvinced. “So, she’s gonna be at the match tonight? Mom said you’re fighting.”

Noah slowly nodded, “Yeah, I’m fighting tonight. But I don’t think she’s coming.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you. Maybe she’ll come just to see you.”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You’re gonna win, right?” Miles asked.

“I guess you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out.”

The fight club was already full of people by the time you arrived with Kole.

He slung an arm around your shoulders as you stepped inside, grinning as he spotted familiar faces. “Hey!” he called out, weaving through the bodies to reach a group of his friends. You followed close, but your eyes were already scanning the room.

He had to be here already.

Your gaze swept across the dimly lit corners, the fluorescent lights above the ring, the benches along the walls, and then you saw him.

Noah was seated on a chair in the far corner, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered like he was mentally someplace else. He wore a white tank top and black shorts, his hands already wrapped. When he lifted his head, as if he felt your eyes on him, your gazes locked.

And just like that, the rest of the noise faded.

Kole was still talking, laughing with his friends beside you but you almost didn't hear any of that.

“How much did you bet?” someone asked.

“Wait, on who?” another said.

“Nah, man, I’m telling you, Sebastian’s got it in the bag tonight.”

"I'm not sure about that."

You tore your eyes away from Noah and smiled weakly at Kole. “I’ll be right back,” you said, already stepping away before he could ask where you were going.

Noah stood as you approached. “Hey,” he said, voice warm.

“Hi,” you replied, your heart suddenly loud in your chest.

He tilted his head a little. “Let me guess, your boyfriend dragged you here again?”

You shook your head. “No. I wanted to come. I knew you were fighting tonight.”

“So you came to watch me lose again.”

You smiled faintly, stepping a little closer. “I came to make sure you’re okay after the match. No matter how tonight goes.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. Like maybe he didn’t know what to do with that kind of answer.

He gave a quiet laugh under his breath and shook his head. “I don’t know if I should thank you for coming, tell you I’m glad to see you… or tell you that maybe you shouldn’t have.”

You shrugged, your voice gentle. “Say whatever you want. I’m already here either way.”

There was a pause. Then he nodded once. “Okay. Then… thank you for coming. And yeah...” his voice softened, “I’m glad to see you.”

He started to lift a hand, slow and hesitant, like he meant to touch your arm, but he stopped just short, curling his fingers into a loose fist instead.

Before either of you could say anything else, someone shouted across the room.

“Sebastian! Let’s go, man! You're about to start!”

Noah turned his head at the sound, then glanced back at you. “I have to go.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll see you after the match?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He had started to turn when your voice stopped him. “Wait,” you said, reaching out and catching his hand gently. The tape was rough under your fingers, and he looked at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

Then you stood up on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck.

It was fast, spontaneous, maybe a bit reckless, but you didn’t care.

He froze for a moment, startled, and then his arms came around you. One hand rested carefully on your back, fingers pressing lightly, like he was afraid to hold on too tightly.

His skin was warm against yours. He didn’t smell like any particular cologne, not like the ones Kole always wore, just of sweat and cheat soap.

And when you caught yourself thinking that you could happily spend the rest of your life waking up to the scent of him, your head tucked against his neck, in bed, with him, you realized you were doomed.

Because Noah wasn’t Kole.

Noah was Noah.

And you loved Noah more with every passing day.

Because it didn’t matter what he smelled like, what he wore, or where he lived.

What mattered was the way his eyes had found you instantly the moment you looked at him across the room, the way he kept trying to tell you that you shouldn’t be there, not to push you away, not really, not anymore, but to protect you. (Not like your boyfriend, who would’ve dragged you there every night without a second thought.)

It mattered how the corners of his eyes crinkled into soft lines whenever you said something stupid that made him laugh. It was all the little things.

He didn’t say anything.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Good luck,” you whispered.

And then, just like that, it was over.

He gave you a little smile and a nod. And then he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the ring.

You turned back toward Kole, who was still laughing with his friends, his back to you. You slipped quietly back to his side just as movement in the ring caught your eye.

Noah climbed in, followed by his oppenent. The other fighter was a bit shorter, leaner, with tousled strawberry blond hair that curled slightly at the edges, and he looked at least few years younger, though in a place like this, age meant very little. What mattered was how fast you could hit and how long you could stay standing.

You barely had time to brace yourself. There was no bell, no formal start, like the first time you've been there. Just a voice somewhere in the crowd yelling “go!”

And they did.

The blond struck first with a fast jab. Noah dodged, slipped just left of the hit and came back with a jab of his own that landed clean on the side of the boy’s jaw. The crowd started screaming. Your hands clenched unconsciously at your sides.

Noah’s expression didn’t change, staying composed.

The next few blows were quick, rapid exchanges of fists and footwork, Noah always adjusting, always circling. He took a punch to the shoulder that made him grunt, but he didn’t back off. Another clipped his ribs, sharp enough to twist his torso, and you flinched hard enough for Kole to glance sideways at you. You barely noticed.

Then came a hit to his face, right to his cheekbone. You saw his head jerk to the side. A tiny spray of sweat flew off his temple, and blood bloomed along the edge of his cheekbone.

Your breath caught in your throat.

But Noah didn’t stumble.

He pressed forward, reading his opponent’s patterns now, finding the space between jabs. His fists landed, one to the ribs, another to the side of the guy's face. The blond staggered, tried to swing wildly, but Noah ducked low, stepped into his blind spot, and landed a punch to the gut that echoed through the room.

More hits came, the opponent's nose started bleeding a bit. Noah hit his jaw a couple of times. Then an uppercut, hard enough that the other boy lost balance. He stumbled sideways. People shouted, some for Noah, some not.

The blond lunged out of desperation. Noah caught the motion, sidestepped, and swept a leg, sending the boy down to his knees. He could’ve ended it right there, one final hit to the face and the boy would have gone out cold.

But Noah didn’t.

Instead, he stepped forward, caught the boy by the shoulders, and dragged him flat to the ground. He didn’t punch. He didn’t strike. He mounted, held the opponent down, his weight strategic and firm.

You felt a weird feeling in your heart.

He wasn’t brutal. He didn’t want to hurt him more, not like the man that kept hitting him when Noah was already on the ground, bleeding and basically passed out.

The guy tried to get up, to hit Noah, but it was all in vain.

A moment later, a voice rang out, “Winner by ground pin, Sebastian!”

People yelled, others started to give the money they bet to others. But all you saw was Noah, still straddling his opponent, arms hanging heavy as he lifted his head and scanned the crowd.

He was bleeding.

He was breathless.

And he was so fucking beautiful.

“Sebastian just made me win eighty bucks. Not bad, huh?” Kole said beside you, dragging your attention back to where you were, beside him, not where your mind kept slipping.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Not bad.”

Your eyes drifted back to the ring.

Noah was still inside, though he had shifted off his opponent, now sitting against the ropes, his chest rising and falling in slow, heavy breaths. The other boy was still flat on his back, his chest rising erratically, his face streaked with blood, but it was nothing compared to how Noah had looked that night, a month ago, when you’d found him outside, barely able to stand.

Two men entered the ring, ones you recognized instantly. They were the same ones who had dragged Noah out that night.

They moved in now without ceremony, grabbing the blond boy by the arms and pulling him up.

You didn’t need to ask where they were taking him, you already knew: the same alley where they had left Noah that night.

You flinched as they passed close to the edge of the ring. The boy’s feet dragged limply, one shoe half-off, blood dripping down his chin. His eyes were open but dazed.

Kole let out a satisfied chuckle and turned away, already pulling money from someone’s hand, some guy you didn’t know, smiling wide with cash fanned out in his grip.

You looked at Kole, then away.

When you glanced back toward the ring, Noah was gone.

You blinked, scanning quickly left and right, standing up on your toes for a better view through the crowd.

He wasn’t by the ropes.

Not by the benches.

Not near the back wall.

Had he really just left? Without saying anything to you?

Then an idea hit you.

Your eyes darted toward the far side of the room, to the chair where you’d seen him sitting before the match. There, a black hoodie, simple, with a random drawing on it, slung carelessly over the backrest. You didn’t hesitate.

Kole was still talking with Dean, and you didn’t even say anything to him, you just turned and slipped away through the crowd, your hand closing around the hoodie as you passed.

It was still warm in places. You pulled it tight to your chest.

Then you walked towards the back door and pushed it open.

The alley behind the fight club was dark. The stars above were barely visible through the creeping gray clouds, and the rain was beginning to fall and hammer against the concrete around you.

You stepped out, letting the door swing closed behind you.

There, down at the end of the alley, was Noah.

And he wasn’t alone.

The blond guy was sitting on the ground, slumped back against the wall, his legs half-stretched in front of him, his chest still quickly rising and falling, damp strands of hair sticking to his bloody forehead. And Noah was walking toward him with slow and quiet steps.

The younger guy lifted his head, catching sight of him, and flinched. He tried to jerk upright, a sharp reflex of fear, but his body didn’t cooperate, and he collapsed back down with a wince.

"Fuck", he whispered to himself.

“No, no,” Noah said gently. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”

He crouched in front of him, lowering himself to his level.

“You alright?” he asked. “Anything broken?”

The blond hesitated, blinking at him through the thin drizzle. “I’m fine,” he muttered.

“You sure? Your head okay?”

“It’s pounding,” He admitted after a second, “but I’ll live.”

A beat passed. Then a weak laugh. He rubbed a hand over his face. “You hit hard, man.”

Noah let out a soft huff of breath. The rain had started to soak through his hair, flattening them against his forehead. He pushed them back absently with one hand.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Elijah.”

“Well, Elijah…” Noah straightened a little, rising to his feet and extending a hand. “Can you stand?”

Elijah looked at the hand like it was something strange. Then, slowly, he reached up and took it.

Noah pulled him up with careful steadiness.

Elijah wobbled once on his feet but managed to stay upright. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I think I’m good."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, sure."

“Good,” Noah said, giving his shoulder a little pat.

Elijah gave him a little smile. “Thank you, man.”

Noah glanced toward the sky, squinting as the rain began to fall harder, now cold and persistent. He looked back at Elijah, then tilted his head toward the end of the alley.

“You should go,” he said quietly. “Before you catch a cold too.”

Elijah nodded once, then started to walk away with a quick, last wave.

You hadn’t moved, still frozen near the door with Noah’s hoodie clutched to your chest. The rain had found you now too, cold drops threading through your hair, dampening your clothes.

And then Noah turned, finally seeing you.

You took a slow step forward, then another, the sound of your shoes soft against the wet ground. The hoodie was still clutched to your chest, damp now where the rain had kissed it.

“Hey,” you said gently. “Thought you might want this.”

He looked at it for a second, then reached out and took it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours.

“Thanks.”

You gave a faint smile in return.

“What you just did…” you said, “that was really kind of you, making sure he was okay.”

Noah looked away for a moment, “He was just a kid,” he said after a second. “Like I was. Like a lot of them are.”

He shook his head once. “I don’t want to be the kind of fighter that forgets there’s a real person on the other side.”

You stayed silent for a moment.

“You’re a good man, Noah.”

Your voice was soft, almost lost in the sound of rain hitting the pavement and the distant hum of traffic, but he heard you. You saw it in the way his shoulders tensed just slightly.

He started to shake his head, already gearing up for protest. “You—”

“No.” You cut him off gently, “Before you say ‘you don’t know me’… I don’t care. Because that’s not true. Not anymore.”

You took another step closer, and his eyes met yours.

“I do know you, Noah,” you said. “And every moment I spend with you… I think you are a good person a little more. I don't care about anything else.”

His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words.

“Don’t,” he said eventually.

You frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me feel like I deserve to be with someone like you.”

“But you do.” you said, and the words came without hesitation.

He didn’t answer.

The rain kept falling, more gently now, soft and rhythmic against the concrete and metal.

You moved even closer, your body almost brushing his, and your eyes dropped to the bruising along his cheekbone. Even in the dim alley light, the purplish-black stood out stark against his skin.

You lifted your hand, slowly, so he could stop you if he wanted, and let your fingertips touch his cheek. Just beneath the bruise. Light. Careful.

“Look at this,” you whispered. “It’s almost black.”

He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something else. “In a week it’ll be gone.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, your thumb brushing ever so gently across the curve of his cheek. “But I still see it now.”

His hand, still wrapped, came up slowly, almost hesitantly, and covered yours, pressing your palm more firmly to his face. His fingers curled slightly, holding your hand like there. His brown, almond shaped, eyes searched yours in the dark, the rain tracing paths through his hair, across his skin.

Your gaze dropped to his lips without meaning to. They were parted slightly, his breath shallow, warm against your skin in the close air between you. He leaned in just a little, and you didn’t move, couldn’t have if you wanted to.

His forehead almost touched yours, the space between you thinning to nothing.

“You’re with someone,” he murmured, the words brushing your lips.

“I know,” you whispered.

He didn’t pull away. His eyes searched yours, like you didn’t make any sense but somehow he still could understand.

“And you’re not happy.”

“I know.”

You felt his breath again, so close, just a hair away from a kiss.

But then, slowly, he pulled back.

Just barely. Just enough.

His warmth slipped away.

Your hand slipped from his cheek, falling to your side. Cold rushed in to replace the heat of his skin against your palm.

Noah took a step back.

“We should go back inside.” he said.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Right.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, like there was still something he wanted to say. But instead, he just nodded toward the door behind you.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you something to dry off.”

“Alright.” Was all you could say.

So you followed him.

The hallway he lead you through was narrow and dark, the sound of the crowd still faintly audible from the other side of the walls. Noah pushed open another door, revealing a locker-room-type space, small and a bit cluttered.

The walls were painted a dull, industrial gray, parts of the paint chipped from years of wear. Lockers lined one side, dented and scuffed, names and stickers and scratches covering most of them. A bench ran the length of the room, bolted into the concrete floor, with a couple old folding chairs pushed to the corners.

“This is where we change before the matches if we need to,” Noah said, giving a small shrug as he crossed to one of the lockers and opened it. “Glamorous, I know.”

He turned, holding a towel, large, old, but clean , and before you could take it, he tossed it directly over your head. The thick fabric landed with a soft thud, and you burst out laughing.

“Hey!” you said, your voice muffled under the towel.

You couldn’t see anything, but you heard his quiet laugh, warm and unguarded, and it made your chest squeeze.

“You���re welcome.” he said, still chuckling.

You pulled the towel down so you could glare at him, or try to, but you were still smiling.

“Very mature of you,” you said.

“Extremely,” he replied, and sat down on the bench with his towel in hands, patting the spot beside him. “Come on, sit before you drown in that thing.”

You joined him, your clothes damp, your hair already soaking the towel draped over your shoulders.

You stole a glance at him. He rubbed the towel roughly through his hair, drying it in uneven swipes. Drops of water still clung to the ends, dripping occasionally onto his shoulders.

He let out a low grumble as he grabbed the hem of his tank top, the fabric soaked and clinging to him like a second skin. “This thing’s glued to me,” he muttered, half to himself.

You watched as he peeled it off with a grunt of effort, tossing it in a heap near the locker. Now shirtless, he stood for a second, drying his arms and chest with the towel, then sat back down.

And you looked.

You couldn’t not look.

His torso was a map of ink, you could see roses, a sketon, a lantern, the word "desolate". You wondered if some of the colors you saw were part of the tattoos or bruises.

You knew you should look away. You told yourself to. But you didn’t.

Because a part of you was still stuck on the way his face had moved closer to yours earlier. On the way you were about to kiss.

And now you were in this room. Just the two of you. Both soaked. And he was sitting beside you, shirtless, dripping, beautiful.

“You kinda look like one of those long-haired dogs when they take a bath,” you said instead, chuckling, because sometimes saying something so stupid helped push your thoughts away.

He let out a laugh. “Wow. Okay.”

“I mean it in a good way.”

“Uh-huh. You should’ve seen me when I had long hair.”

You sat up. “You had long hair?”

“Yep.”

“Like… shoulder-length?”

“Try mid-back. Maybe even longer.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way. You’re lying. I need to see this. Do you have pictures?”

“Pfft. No. I haven’t even had a working phone in over a year.”

You groaned. “So the only way I’ll ever see it is if you grow it back.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“They were always in my face. I cut them off with a pair of scissors I found in a supermarket. Kitchen aisle.”

You laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I swear. It was the most satisfying haircut I’ve ever had.”

“Do you still have the scissors?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I’m gonna steal them.”

“Alright. Note to self...keep my utensils locked. You already broke into my building once, now you’re coming for my knives?”

“Nothing is safe from me.”

He smiled, looking down at his hands. The wraps were still there, soaked and clinging to his knuckles. He tugged at one with his teeth, but the knot resisted. You reached over.

“Let me.”

He hesitated for half a second. Then he let go and let you take his hand.

The bandages were damp and clinging, and your fingers brushed warm against his skin as you started to unwind them. Neither of you said anything for a moment.

“You ever did braids?” you asked then.

He groaned. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope. I know you did.” You said as you kept unwinding the damp wrap, careful not to tug too hard where the skin looked red underneath.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered, half-laughing.

You smiled, eyes on his hand. “You totally did pigtails at least once.”

He just sighed.

Then he looked down at your hands again.

“You’re good at this,” he said.

You glanced up. “Unwrapping hands?”

“Yeah but, I mean” he nodded toward his hands. “You're good at being gentle.”

Your thumbs lightly brushed the back of his knuckles.

“Only with some people,” you said.

You’d found this weird rhythm with Noah, some uneven mix of insults and sarcastic remarks, quiet moments that felt too vulnerable, and small touches that said more than most words ever could.

And you liked it.

So you stayed there a little longer.

While somewhere else in the same building, Kole was laughing with his friends, a bottle in one hand and a pretty girl with dark curls perched on his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist as he told her yes, of course they’d see each other again, his girlfriend would never find out.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog @pandora-08 @geminigirlfromfinland @bloody-spades @rumoured-whispers @astronoids

Fresh bruises tags: @1toreyouapart @respectfulrebel @dragoncopper @overmydeadbodysblog @fear-its-beauty @xslavicprincess @concreteangel92 @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @pipidoll @bluehairpunklol @tktstomydwnfall @jesuisunchaton @brutallysoftmuse @acatatonicpeace @spookieolson @dontwantthemoney

[shewritesinblackink]

Twilight fanfic - Paul Lahote x reader

Part 1: A wolf gone rogue - pairing: Paul Lahote x reader

masterlist

blurb: This came to me in a dream, for real i just wanted to imagine an alternate story in which Paul’s imprint would be another shifter but I wanted to add a little twist to it. So here we go with something a little crazy about shifting and probably not accurate at all. But hey, it’s just a fanfiction.

You arrived at Forks under the cover of a low and dark sky, thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. The thick forest surrounding the town was a lush dark green color, giving you the impression of being alone on the Earth. And to be honest, the thought wasn’t so bad. 

People were the reason why you had to move out in the first place. Something happened and it left you with no other choice than packing your things, loading your truck and driving as far as you could. Or until you found the perfect place.

You didn’t really know why you had decided to do a pit stop in Forks but one thing was certain, you were hungry and your tummy noises could compete with those of the thunder in the dark sky. So you stopped at a diner and ate so much all you wanted to do afterwards was take a nap. 

But you had to keep going. Keep driving until you can't anymore. But there was something about this place, Forks, it made you feel all funny inside. Made you want to stay a little longer. Like there was a thread pulling you and keeping you there.

You found a small house on the outskirts of the woods to rent. Cheap and small but it was largely enough for you. You just needed a fresh start. So you found a job, or two and began your new life. You befriended your neighbor, the chief of police. His name was Charlie, and his daughter Bella. You weren't that much older than her, so you became friends.

Some night you even went to their place when Charlie would invite you over to watch baseball on tv with his friend Billy and his son Jacob. So yeah some of your nights were as lonely as your day, some were better. Spent in good company, with genuine people. Pizza, popcorn, beer. Good evenings.

And the other nights? They were worse than the rest, lonelier and more brutal. It is during those torturous nights that you wish you could hold on to somebody. But your fear of getting close to people- either because you knew they could easily hurt you or you could easily hurt them- was holding you back from any real socialisation.

One night in particular was rougher. Thunder rolling low in the sky, rain falling slowly, the sound echoing on the roof of the house. The whole day had been excruciating, pain flaring up in your entire body, your skin felt too tight on you, you couldn’t breathe properly, every sound was louder than usual. Everything you touched felt wrong. You knew what it meant and yet your brain tried to deny it every waking second. Every cell in your body was fighting against one another.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, and you knew you’d shift at any given moment, you leaped out in the forest, thorny bushes grabbing at your skin and hair. But you didn’t stop, you couldn’t stop. You kept on running as fast as you could and screamed when the shift happened. You could feel every bone in your body snapping into place, your skin moving with them.

Your senses already heightened where exacerbated even more and you fell loudly to the ground, your body convulsing in spasms. You tried to drown out the noises by covering your ears, grabbing at your head. You screamed again and again from the pain. Praying, begging it would stop. 

In your state you didn’t notice the dark silhouette watching you from a distance, half hidden behind a tree. He watched as you moved in pain, laying in the grass under the cover of the big trees. He watched as you shifted slowly, painfully. Listening to your cry of agony. He was hovering between walking away and waiting for you to reveal yourself to the rest of the pack, or staying in case you needed help. It was strange to see another struggle with their shifting. It made him feel less alone.

But suddenly you rose up on your feet, ears moving with every sound around you. And then your head ducked down again and he saw a flash of your human form covering your head with your hands. Just a flash, barely could see the colour of your flesh under the black and and dark brown fur. Then the wolf was back, the flash stopped and he heard a howl, low and painful. He could feel the pain in the tone of your voice. 

You dashed deeper in the forest, paws landing heavily on the wet ground. He watched you disappear in the dark, where the moon couldn’t touch the moss covered ground. Under his wolf form he took a few tentative steps, staying silent as he walked towards the place where your shift had occurred. 

Your clothes still on the ground, smelled strongly of you for his wolf senses. He heard you howling again and turned his head in your direction. Mentally telling Sam about what he had just witnessed.

The alpha arrived, cautiously sniffing your clothes. That way they could recognise you if they crossed your path one day. 

-

You spend the next day in pain, curled up on your bed. The pain had persisted even after you had shifted back and retrieved your clothes. The walk back to your house annoyingly painful but alas the cold rain drenching you allowed your mind to relax a little and to cool down.

During the next few days you only wanted to skip work and stay curled up in bed. Painkillers only worked for a few hours before the pain came back again, so you quite literally looked like a junky. But you had to go anyway, the rent of the house wouldn’t pay itself.

All day your colleagues would throw weird glances your way, and whisper amongst themselves, thinking they were being discreet. But you could hear them, they hushed tones as if they were speaking of some ancient secret. You didn’t really care, all you could think about was the pain taking over your body.

You could hide it most days, but sometimes it was too much and you looked so sick people started to throw worried glances at you. One day your boss sent you home early and told you to take the reminder of the week to get back on your feet. 

So you took his advice and tried to rest, but you knew there was nothing to be done. The pain would always be here. 

Your doorbell brought you back to the present, it was Bella. She hadn’t heard from you in a while and was worried when you showed up looking like a sick puppy at the front door. 

“Hey, what’s up? You look like you haven’t slept in days.” And you just shrugged softly. So she grabbed your hand and dragged you to her truck. you barely had time to grab a flannel jacket. She drove to the reservation, a place you only had heard of through her and Charlie and Jacob. She said it would be good to breathe some fresh air, would probably make you feel better. You doubted but indulged her.

“It’s high time you finally come visit this place and make some more friends. Besides, it's a bit lame to only hangout with single dads to watch baseball.” She said. “So you’re saying you’re lame?” You retorted, and she was happy to see that your humour was intact.

Once at the beach of La Push, she parked beside a black truck and you both walked on the sand. The silence was comfortable, and sometimes you both would talk about anything and everything. You liked Bella, it was easy to be around her even if it had been a bit awkward at first. 

There was something you couldn't quite shake tho, it was a strange smell, and you could swear it was coming from Bella. But it wasn’t strong enough for you to actually identify it so you decided to let the thought go. 

After some time, you both decided to sit down, using a log of wood to rest your back. You groaned while moving to sit down, Bella shooting you a weird look. You pretended not to notice her in the corner of your vision, but you could see her brow knitted together in worry.

“I know you’re a little bit older than me, but not that much,” She tried to land a joke and you only huffed a laugh, half smiling. “What’s up with you lately?” She asked still, but you could sense the hesitation in her voice.

Before you could answer you both turned your head toward voices coming your way. A group of young men and teenagers walking shirtless and barefoot and you thought it was strange, they should be cold.

But then you looked at yourself and the beads of sweat on your forehead. You would gladly take your jacket off, even though you had chosen to wear a light one, but you didn’t want to worry Bella anymore. The weather was cold for her, with a little wind picking up from the sea and the grey clouds blocking out the sun, you could see her shivering.

She stood up to greet one of the guys, Jacob and you did the same since you had been hanging out with him on occasions.

“Hey! wow,” he grabbed you by the shoulders and looked at you like you had something on your face. You stared back and smiled slowly. “Hey sorry, think i’m coming down with something.” You offered the only plausible answer you could muster. 

“Jake,” One of the other guys said beside him, a weird look on his face. Jacob looked at him and then back at you. Letting his hands fall from your shoulders you could feel something in the air had shifted. A gust of wind shook around you, your hair dancing in the cool breeze and you welcomed its fresh sensation on your hot skin.

And that’s when it hit you. A very specific scent, something of pine needles and wet dog. You sniffed the air a bit more loudly than you meant to, looking around for a dog walking on the beach or something. But upon seeing nothing around you, your gaze landed back on the group of young men in front of you. They were staring at you.

A part of you knew what you had just smelled, but another part of you wanted to deny it all together. You took a step back at the same time as one of the other guys. Suddenly he looked as sick as you, or more like he was going to faint. Jacob and the two other guys looked at his friend with concern. They all exchanged glances while you and Bella hovered on the side, watching it unfold.

“Paul? You okay?” Jacob puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder and when said Paul faltered backward, Jacob and another guy caught him by the arms. And your eyes met Paul’s.

And then you felt something else. A weird warmth spreads inside of you, wrapping its tendril around your ribcage. Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt like you were suffocating suddenly, and you thought you were going to shift again, right then and there. Fear making its way to you, making you start to panic a little.

You couldn’t bear the sweat sticking on your skin anymore and took off your jacket in a swift movement, letting it fall to the ground. You didn’t care if it worried Bella, you needed to cool down. You were left in just your long sleeves. Bending down, hands on your knees to try and steady yourself while you try to breathe. And sure enough Bella gasped and almost forcefully put your jacket back on your shoulders but you shrugged it off. You took a few paces and passed your hands in your hair. You couldn’t focus on anything. All you could hear was Paul’s ragged breathing and all you could see was his eyes glued to you. 

And all of a sudden Paul turned on his heels and ran away, his friends right behind him. Jacob mustered a half apology before running after them. You were left alone on the beach with a shivering Bella. You told her you should both get back home and she hurriedly agreed.

You didn’t see her for a few days after that. Not that it was the first thing on your mind at the moment. You were still feeling a little weird from the beach encounter and the sensation that had washed over you that day. And the smell. It was a distinctive smell, and you knew now that you had already smelled it around Jacob.

[ineffectualbookseller]

The way Azirphale is underestimated and practically infantalized by heaven is so closely tied to his femininity and I think we should talk about it more because I just want to shout about how relatable the way he's treated in his workplace is as a woman working in a traditionally male field

It's in all the little niggling comments from your boss about personal things that hold no bearing on your work

and the assumption that what you're doing must be simple if it was assigned to you

your work is trivialized

and you get these the placating smiles when you're told plans and proposals are rejected and passed over

or when your complaints are dismissed

and you get more of the same from upper management

it all feels so frustrating and draining but you're at work so all you can do is take a breathe put on that mask and move on with your day

It is all so deteimental to your emotional well being and textually, so much of this is tied to Aziraphale's softness, his gayness - his femininity

The thing about working in an environment and gives you this feeling - of being simultaneously destrought watching your belief in yourself get chipped away but also just so irate becuase you know you don't deserve it - is how it builds. It sinks under your skin and feeds into this indignant dejection until you can have a moment of release - but Azirphale doesn't get to bitch about it over drinks with friends, he doesn't get a lunch break where he can go for a walk and listen to an angry scandi death metal playlist, he doesn't even get the chance to cry about it in the bathroom for 5 minutes before confronting it again

(And I talked a little bit about it in the tags of this beautiful photoset but this all comes into play whenever Crowley dismisses his plans or calls him an idiot. These are purely emotional reactions; I really don't think Crowley means much by it - he respects Aziraphale's opinion and genuinely thinks he's brilliant - but Crowley is so quick to use this terminology when Aziraphale is making a decision Crowley thinks is wrong and he doesn't know how much this hurts Aziraphale. Just like Aziraphale doesn't understand the true impact the Fall had on Crowley, Crowley doesn't understand the ways heaven has been tearing away at Aziraphale's self worth)

Aziraphale has been facing this constant drip of denigration since before the beginning of time and has never released the pressure valve. At this point, he's a bomb waiting to go off

[sezja]

I have decided Hector gets very giggly when he's drunk

So he almost never drinks.

[izartn]

So, about how I see Link Click's Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi relationship:

As it stands in canon? Queerplatonic partners. And it's convenient for the plot that they're like this.

Because of Chinese censorship it can't be explicitly romantic, yes I know it. Let me tell why it's queerplatonic for me. The way these two have intertwined their lives and futures together?!

Owning a business and living together, that hint in ep2 (comparing them to the subtextually older lesbian couple who also came across as queerplatonic bc censure) where Xiaoshi wonders/fears if years down the line he and Lu Guang will separate/break up implying their partnership is for life as far as he's concerned (the parallel can be taken as a subtext romance too but follow me we're talking text), the way they were already going also on vacancies together three years prev in canon, etc...

Without entering on their complimentary powers and the way the dives need both of them if they want security in not screwing the past, and the inmense trust and vulnerability the dives themselves require?

They're not simply best friends either.

Those aren't the actions of normal, totally not queer friends. Cheng Xiaoshi checks out women on the dives, sure, (and men too when the host is feeling it which I love bc they can't address it directly bc censorship and then it comes across as Xiaoshi being super confident in his own relationship to sexuality/gender) but I don't think he would ever date bc Lu Guang is already there, filling that place in his life minus sex and romance but all that same companionship and intensity of feeling.

These two meet in what, the last year/s of High School and then proceeded to latch onto each other with a commitment reserved for romantic partners.

And I know you want to say, "it's the censorship! they'd be romantic and canon if not for the censorship!"

Are you sure? Are you sure the story would work if there were explicit romance in it? (I mean, if they could I'm pretty sure they would have nailed it anyways but allow me my a-spec delusions) Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang feel so much like an already established pair, they work like one, and Link Click is not about them coming together like many other stories. Are you sure this would work as BL?

There's a distinct difference on the way they start the show already like six years at least since they're best friends and three or two since they live together. That's not usually how it goes. I'm talking not just romances but every buddy or nakama anime/show, where the protag has to learn to work with who will be his best friend or rival. These stories usually have the same kind of plot progression as a romance which is why they work so well when you make the subtext text.

But a story where the main romance is already established and we're following a plot that has nothing to do with it? Much more rare, even stranger to find them well done although there are some very good ones and with the friendships instead of romo they're more common. For example, Soul Eater, which is all about the trials of it and how they hace to truly come to understand each other. That's Link Click a bit, but not even then.

Link Click juggling a budding romance between Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi with all the other stuff is going on?? Messier for sure. I don't know if people would have liked it as much or if the donghua would have been as well done.

As it is, Link Click has the exact level of emotional connection between our protags it needs to have incredibly high stakes emotionally and at the same time not need a detour by romantic scenes/fanservice that would derail the plot or the other charas importance. That it happens to be pretty queer anyways in a platonic way?

Nice for the aroace-spec folks watching the show xD

Btw, I'm pretty sure in season 3 we're going to get more of Lu Guang's PoV, the origins of their powers and the past between him and Xiaoshi. It'll probably dig more into the aspect of "testing their bond and coming stronger bc of it" which is were the romantic subtext usually comes through...

—unless you're very very good at writing like Arakawa in FMA, who nailed the brotherly relationship without tipping into incest subtext which I've seen more than a few writers fumble. or the latest D&D film for the platonic childrearing and partnership for a no familial example between a man and a woman also very very difficult to get right for writers dunno why—

... but until then, for now I'm incredibly satisfied by the canon.

The other read of course it that they're already a couple since well before the start of season 1, and to mentally edit what we saw in canon with that lens (it wouldn't be very difficult honestly) but reading only the text? Queerplatonic partners!

There also how Xiaoshi and Lu Guang don't have that anxiety/insecurity of their bond that makes it so easy to read the want for something, like a romance for shipping purposes. Despite the disagreements on the Dives or the trials of season 2 or Lu Guang keeping secret Cheng Xiaoshi future/past death they read very steady which is fun. I love some good established relationship, you can go to deeper places when the base is already secure and the risk is higher for the characters. Plus I love domesticity! Yes, I do my angsty/Gothic leanings notwithstanding. Don't you know you need a home for the Gothic to be effective?

[triglycercule]

hes right behind me isnt he

sorry for being so dead guys can you believe it triglycercule not posting?! more common than you'd think,,,,,, anyways have some horror n dust in roblox as an apology X,,3 sowwyyyy

[mona-risms]

Can’t stop thinking about reader’s family and friends not believing them when they say that they’re dating rumi, bc 1. Rumi is a worldwide famous popstar and 2. Rumi is a literal goddess in her own right and reader is just going insane trying to prove that Rumi is actually their girlfriend.

The moment I saw this ask come through I really did just have to run over here bc as someone with a large family, white siblings and two fuckass extended family ahh friend groups this felt like an obligation. Ofc different groups may respond differently, but 😜

Telling your friends would be a Challenge aka they'll probably laugh your ass out the door. How the fuck did YOU??? Bag THAT fine piece of ass HELLO????? Like okay bae and I'm actually Tom Holland's side piece it's time to wake back up to reality 🫶. You need like proof in pictures, receipts in messages and preferrably her right in front of them. It feels like you're going through an immigration checkpoint. When they actually see that Oh you're Not actually bullshitting and this is actually #holyfcknairball? "THEM?????? REALLY" but tbh at the end of the day they'd support it easily. If you have K-Pop enthusiasts in your group they'll probably freak out and faint but they'll be back up later asking for autographs from her and the other members. My friends would threaten me if I ever fumbled personally

Rumi finds it funny asf but also she's kinda like "my bad", half laughing at you and half sincere bc wow you fr have to prove you're not just being DELUSIONAL. It's okay she'll kiss you in front of them if they want proof, she'll take Any excuse to kiss you :3c

Family would be another thing. You wouldn't even need to supply proof though, she'd wanna make a good first impression on her own. She'd bring like food baskets and gifts and everything, getting to know your family and all that. She'll basically do all the work for you and next thing you know she's basically already invited to the gc and whatever sort of family gatherings you have 🤷‍♀️ atp wedding her would just become a formality LMFAO but if you fumble this they'll kill you. Joke. Maybe. Who knows. But she's like the most likeable person out there, parents fucking love her and yours probably won't be an exception—can't help but stare at how easily she can just. Do it like "is it PR training or is this just like natural for you" "🥰"

My mum would love her and she's very Traditional so 💀. My siblings would personally also laugh me out the door too 🫶 hate them (love them)

[becasbelt]

I am displeased to announce that upon my second reading of harrow the ninth, ianthe tridentarius is very nearly my favorite character of the entire book

[wovenstarlight]

indescribably funny to me that hyj's argument to convince stw to take the lamb was in part "THINK OF HOW GOOD IT'LL BE TO HAVE A KISEUNGSU WHO CAN HELP YOU FIGHT IN DUNGEONS" because songie is NOT doing that songie is a full-time therapy lamb who for all i know has free run of the awakening management office and routinely cuddles victims of awakening related crimes to make them feel better while stw goes and arrests people about it

[sufjanista]

ohhh my goddddd like ok whatever i get what he means but also can he PLEASE shut the fuck UPPPPP. paul simms you need to pay the lgbt community 3 billion in reparations for this bs. this is classic queerbait language and listen I KNOWWW i don't feel like it's right to call nandermo queerbait when they're both canonically queer and as i've said before, nandermo endgame is not the most important thing atp i just feel like the opportunity was there to give them a romantic angle and you just didn't take it. people were just expecting it to be diff not everyone wanted ubiquitous porn. fuck's sake