#there are too many possible candidates

[skzoologist]

It was a bit(e) of a mistake

word count: ~1.3k

genre: crack

warnings: none

summary: Filming their Halloween special was always a hazard for Bae, now more than ever.

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

This day of the year came again, something that Bae both looked forward to and dreaded at the same time.

Why?

Because his band members were notorious for teasing him more than usual, forcing the poor makeup artists to hurry and try to cover up his heated up skin, before the situation got so bad it would become straight up impossible. The poor staff members were all familiar with it, learning to enjoy it more than anything, if their amused smiles and laughter were anything to go by. And through it all, Bae couldn’t do anything, his only choice was to silently accept it and try to shoot their Halloween special video for their beloved fans, hoping that his cheeks only looked like they had too much blush applied to.

He tried in the past, but it didn’t work. All it got him was a firm place in SKZ meme compilations, something that wasn’t exactly his aim, to be quite honest.

“What do you think we’ll be dressed up as this year?” - Seungmin asked from beside him, breaking Bae out of his stupor. “Well, probably not something we already were in the past, so I’m curious too.” - Jeongin replied, sipping on some caffeinated drink he found in their break room. “I hope it’s vampires, that one was fun.” - Felix added in as he entered the room, plopping right next to their maknae and immediately clinging to him. “Oh my god, you’re right, we should be vampires again! The fans loved it, didn’t they, Bae hyung?” - Jisung excitedly said, wiggling his eyebrows at the mentioned male.

Bae, of course, silently shook his head in denial, even though his mind instantly relayed to him the clips of all the videos STAY made, some cool, some… on the more questionable side. His skin already started darkening, something his very ‘kind’ friends pointed out to him gleefully.

“I agree with Jisung, the stylists did a really great job.” - it was Minho this time, a devious grin already forming on his lips. “Of course you do, you couldn’t keep your hands away from him in those black leather pants.” - that expression of Chan’s was frighteningly starting to look like the one Minho had, making Bae do a double-take. “Please, as if you were any different.” - Hyunjin said as he rolled his eyes, his lanky form draped over Felix as he was watching the boy’s phone. “Says the pot to the kettle.” “Yah!”

In the blink of an eye a playfight broke out between the three, everyone else watching it, even though they were just as guilty as the participants. It was a miracle in itself that Changbin hadn’t joined in, opting to instead continue snacking in their limited breaktime. Jisung somehow managed to avoid it all, quietly standing back and enjoying the show while sipping on his own chosen beverage. Based on his dangerously rising energy levels, it had to have been coffee, adding to Bae’s increasingly worsening stress levels.

“Can we have ONE occasion where you guys aren’t flirting, teasing and just straight up grabbing at each other?” - Bae muttered out into his own hands that rested on his face, only the ones sitting next to him hearing it.

While he didn’t get a vocal answer, something he didn’t really hope to get -he wasn’t that naive-, Felix just sympathetically patted his back in a fruitless chase of comfort.

Soon they were whisked away, their stylists moulding them to the image in their heads, turning them into the idols their fans knew and loved. Bae always loved it, obediently sitting in the chair and letting the professionals work away on him, covering up any imperfections and painting on his skin. His long hair always got the same treatment, sometimes even having two people work on it at the same time. This time the dark strands were hanging free, some taken to be braided and clipped to stay in place.

He felt like a work of art himself.

“WOOHOOO, WE’RE VAMPIRES, YESSS!”

A very miserable work of art.

He truly couldn’t help the deep sigh that resonated from his chest, the notion not at all new to him. His red eyes followed the excited form of the others joyfully darting around the room they were soon to be filming in, somehow even Chan joining them, instead of trying to wrestle the others into his hold to calm them down. Bae dreaded fully stepping into the room, knowing fully well what was about to happen once he did so.

The stylists thankfully crafted a less daring outfit for him this time, granting him that classy, old time vampire look with a hint of that usual kpop industry shine. His skin was fully covered up, nothing to bashfully try and hide, yet his neck was delightfully peeking out, two little painted on red dots revealed in the right angle.

Of course, this didn’t stop the others from flustering him the moment they noticed him, latching onto his rigid form every chance they could get. No matter how hard Bae was trying to act unaffected, to dodge them and their hands, his mask was starting to crack. It didn’t help that Minho was using the short moments when Bae was distracted to do what he was the best at: hunting butts. Even his little discipline, Seungmin, joined in, causing Bae to have a smaller brain aneurysm.

He didn’t think it could ever get worse, until he felt a presence behind his back, sharp pain in his neck following it close behind. A strangled little shout left his lips, sounding more surprised than anything.

Bae didn’t know what to think, as he stood there, silent, just like the perpetrator, all the while the others were laughing so hard, he was becoming slightly concerned for their well-being. But soon his brain rebooted, his eyes darting to the side, discovering dark strands of hair and round cheeks. 

A dangerous idea popped into his head, the taste of revenge too sweet to think of the consequences. Thus, he turned around, caging the mischievous little quokka in his hold and he bit, his two fake, elongated teeth sinking deeper than the others into his prey’s flesh.

A small sound took Bae’s attention away, his head urgently tearing away from Jisung’s neck and looking at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just fucking moan?!” - his voice was raised, something that didn’t happen a lot. “Hey man, I don’t kinkshame you.” - it was all the reply he got before his face shifted, his arms holding the man in his hold the furthest away from him he could.

Laughter bounced around the room, accompanied by thuds as some people fell down from the force of it. Some members were trying to form sentences, but failed as no word that left their mouths made sense. Even the staff members joined in, some desperately trying to hide their laughter, some entirely giving up on the impossible task.

“Holy s-shit, I, I have never seen, I-, Bae hyung look so disgusted, and, and h-he lives with Gymracha!” - it was Felix’s deep voice that succeeded first, riddled with laughter and wheezing, his lungs desperately trying to gather in air.

Seungmin and Jeongin were quick to agree, doubling over again, joined by the resident cat and weasel. All the while the mentioned members looked at the young aussie offended, but the memory of what just happened replayed in their minds once again and took their attention away, blessing them with another bout of laughter.

“I am giving you up for adoption, Jisung.” “Wh- wait, wait, Hyung, I’m sorry, please come back!”

As Jisung went out to chase after Bae, the others scraped themselves together, watching them with joy still swimming in their eyes.

“Now I wish I did it sooner.” “Me too Seungmin, me too.” - it was Felix who replied, but it was clear they were all thinking it.

“I guess I’m giving you all up for adoption then, bye.” “Wait, naur, Bae come back–”

[best-fictional-marine-reptile]

Well it was an incredibly painful process but I've finished with our roster! I've dropped about 30 candidates, primarily from series that already had a bunch of candidates (sorry Fossil Fighters).

I also focused on retaining candidates that were actual entities with design intent, rather than backdrops or incidental appearances, with some exceptions.

The final list can be found here (same link as previously)!

Please review the list and ensure that the information *ESPECIALLY THE IMAGE* for your candidate (and any others) is accurate.

You are welcome to suggest alternate images; if you do so then I will replace it if I think it's better.

Anyway, for now we just have one final thing to iron out and then we can get started, as early as next week if I'm feeling it:

[kakashibestie]

[notasapleasure]

A tale of two Georgias

Note: I wouldn't normally share subscriber-exclusive content from this news site, but I think Shota Kincha's opinions are too important to hide away in an exclusive email this time. If you're so minded, please consider supporting open journalism in the Caucasus anyway and sending some money OCMedia's way.

Highlighting is my own. Of course I support Georgia joining the EU, but absolutely not under conditions that ignore the recent rolling back of democratic freedoms.

---

By Shota Kincha, for OC Media.

On Wednesday, Georgians celebrated a long-awaited recommendation from the European Commission for their nation’s candidacy for EU membership, leaving the country’s candidacy pending just final approval from the heads of EU member states in mid-December. But the Commission’s assessment of the government’s ‘progress’ seemed to be based on wishful thinking, rather than its actions. 

On denying Georgia the status last year, the European Commission outlined 12 ‘priorities’ Georgia would need to address for the decision to be reconsidered — preconditions that largely reflected the spirit of the April 2021 agreement brokered by European Council President Charles Michel between the government and opposition groups.

When the unforeseen possibility for Georgia to formally apply for membership presented itself in early 2022, Georgia’s leadership had already failed on some of the key components of the previous year’s accord. 

Instead of addressing the ‘perception of politicised justice,’ an apparent euphemism for the imprisonment of opposition leaders, most notably Nika Melia in early 2021, the Georgian court imprisoned another prominent government critic, Nika Gvaramia, only five weeks before the European Commission was due to assess Georgia’s readiness for EU membership candidacy.

Instead of the ambitious judicial reform promised in the 2021 Michel deal and mentioned in the EU’s ‘12 priorities’ last year, the ruling Georgian Dream party has continued to shield corrupt judicial officials with a stranglehold on Georgian courts, resulting in more politicised administrative fines and criminal cases against civil activists, political leaders, media managers, or youth with ‘confused orientation’ who risked their freedom to defend Georgia’s pro-Western choice on the streets.

In the run-up to the European Commission’s latest decision on Georgia, the government and security services run by oligarch Bidzina Ivanishvili’s goons artificially created an anti-Western parliamentary group, gifted them private channel PosTV, and made violent extremist pro-Russian Alt Info immune to obstruction or challenge. 

If the last five years under Georgian Dream rule had been a steady decline in democratic freedoms, the government’s actions in the months since it applied to join the European Union — including their recent initiatives to clamp down on Georgia’s civil society and constrain protest — far surpassed any and all negative predictions.

But listening to President of the European Commission Ursula von der Leyen, one could have assumed she was discussing an entirely different country. 

Despite Georgia’s government persecuting free media, parroting Russian propaganda against the West, refusing to undertake institutional reforms in a way that included other groups and stakeholders, and satisfying only three of the twelve conditions set last year, the European Commission complimented them with no substantial criticism.

I do not believe the EU should approve Georgian membership candidacy later this year, as the move looks set to validate and entrench the government’s precipitous lurch towards authoritarianism. 

The European Commission’s approach may be based on the belief that denying Georgia candidate status could lead to Georgians becoming disillusioned with the EU and the West. But Georgians have been staunchly pro-Western for decades, perhaps even centuries. 

The real danger to Georgians’ trust in the West comes from the West’s indifference to anti-democratic moves by Georgia’s government, which, if left unchecked, will continue to use state institutions to slowly but steadily shift popular mood and policies towards Russia. 

Even were we to allow that recommending EU candidacy status was a justified decision in Georgia’s best interests, doing so did not obligate the institution’s leaders to legitimise the country’s government in the way they did.

Listening to the widely televised announcement by the European Commission on Wednesday, Georgians could reasonably have concluded that democratic backsliding, state capture by big capital, and a politicised judiciary are consistent with Georgia’s pro-Western aspirations, or that related warnings from local activists and media have been baseless or overblown. 

The announcement could also have created the impression that the ruling party has been delivering on reforms demanded by the EU, a powerful notion less than a year before the country’s next general elections. 

The truth is, however, that in inviting Georgia to join the club while neglecting to call out the government’s shortcomings, the EU is playing a dangerous game, and one it has played before. The EU does not want another Orban, and the South Caucasus definitely does not need another Aliyev.

I may be wrong: perhaps granting Georgia candidate status will still be a wise choice on the EU’s part. But even in its recommendation, the European Commission could have sent a clear message that business as usual would no longer be tolerated. 

What Georgia’s leadership heard instead will become abundantly clear in the coming months. 

[kirsctein]

voting has been made SO EASY in my country for reals. like you literally get a letter in the mail telling you that you have the right to vote in the elections (most recently the EU elections that are in two weeks). the letter tells you when the election day is and when the early voting takes place. hell, it even tells you WHERE you need to go to vote; the letter tells your primary voting location for the election day (which is the one you need to use on that day) but there is also a pamphlet that lists ALL early voting stations in your region (my town has 24 and the early voting lasts for 7 days) and you can go to any of those.

one of the perks of having a national population registry :)

[reasonsforhope]

Kamala Harris just announced that her vice president will be Minnesota governor Tim Walz. Based on the coverage so far I'm really reassured by this decision.

The Washington Post did an obviously great job of making a prepared article for each option, considering how long an article they had up 7 minutes after the announcement.

((Okay technically it's not an official announcement yet it's "according to three people familiar with the pick, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss a decision that is not yet public." But listen. I am 99% sure this is a weather balloon. (Meaning: a deliberate leak to gauge reaction.) Because the sheer weakness or incompetence on the part of the Harris campaign that it would take for three people to all confirm that within a few hours hours of each other and the planned announcement it is massive.))

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

Honestly this decision, from everything I've read and can tell, looks like it's brilliant politics.

Important Context: The vice president(ial candidates)'s job in an election is not to be similar to the president. The vice president's job on the ballot is very, very much specifically to be different from the president. Why? So they can cover each others' weaknesses. Especially regionally.

(Sidenote: I feel a bit ridiculous saying this. But genuinely if you want to get a stronger understanding of how US elections really work. Go watch seasons 6 and 7 of The West Wing. Genuinely, a lot of politicians have said - especially back in its day - that that was the most accurate depiction of an election they'd ever seen. Also specifically features an entire arc about a contested Democratic primary convention, so also very good if you're interested in understanding weird nominating convention shenanigans.)

From the article:

"Harris’s choice for a running mate was among the most closely watched decisions of her fledgling campaign, as she sought to bolster the ticket’s prospects for victory in November and rapidly find someone who could be a governing partner. In picking Walz, she has selected a seasoned politician with executive governing experience and signaled the importance of Midwestern battleground states such as Wisconsin and Michigan.

Walz’s foray into politics came later in life: He spent more than two decades as a public school teacher and football coach, and as a member of the Army National Guard, before running for Congress in his 40s. In 2006, he defeated a Republican to win Minnesota’s 1st Congressional District--a rural, conservative area--and won reelection five times before leaving Congress to run for governor.

Walz was first elected governor in 2018 and handily won reelection in 2022. Though little-known outside his state, Walz emerged publicly as one of the earliest names mentioned as a possible running mate for Harris, and in the ensuing days he made the rounds on television as an outspoken surrogate for the vice president...

“These are weird people on the other side. They want to take books away, they want to be in your exam room. … They are bad on foreign policy, they are bad on the environment, they certainly have no health care plan, and they keep talking about the middle-class,” Walz told MSNBC in July. “As I said, a robber baron real estate guy and a venture capitalist trying to tell us they understand who we are? They don’t know who we are.”

Walz also has faced criticism from Republicans that his policies as governor were too liberal, including legalizing recreational marijuana for adults, protecting abortion rights, expanding LGBTQ protections, implementing tuition-free college for low-income Minnesotans and providing free breakfast and lunch for schoolchildren in the state.

But many of those initiatives are broadly popular. Walz also signed an executive order removing the college-degree requirement for 75 percent of Minnesota’s state jobs, a move that garnered bipartisan support and that several other states have also adopted.

“What a monster. Kids are eating and having full bellies, so they can go learn, and women are making their own health-care decisions,” Walz said sarcastically in a July 28 interview with CNN when questioned whether such policies would be fodder for conservative attacks, later adding: “If that’s where they want to label me, I’m more than happy to take the [liberal] label.”

Walz also spoke at a kickoff event in St. Paul for a Democratic canvassing effort, casting Trump as a “bully.”

“Don’t lift these guys up like they’re some kind of heroes. Everybody in this room knows--I know it as a teacher--a bully has no self-confidence. A bully has no strength. They have nothing,” Walz said at the event, sporting a camouflage hunting hat and T-shirt.

Walz has explained that he felt some Democrats’ practice of calling Trump an existential threat to democracy was giving him too much credit, which prompted his decision to denounce the GOP nominee instead as being “weird.”

“I do believe all those things are a real possibility, but it gives him way too much power," Walz said on CNN’s “State of the Union” regarding the Democrats’ rhetoric. “Listen to the guy. He’s talking about Hannibal Lecter, shocking sharks, and just whatever crazy thing pops into his mind.”

If Walz is elected vice president, under state law, Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan (D) would assume the governorship for the rest of his term. Minnesota Senate president Bobby Joe Champion, a Democrat, would become lieutenant governor."

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

--

This guy. Sounds like. fucking Moderate swing-state/rural/Midwestern/southern/"heartland"/working class white voter catnip. He sounds like he's also a very smart politician and strong campaigner. And he's apparently genuinely a good guy with a good record, too.

He sounds like he's going to do a really good job of appealing to voters in several of the big deal swing states without being from any of them specifically. Which means it doesn't feel like pandering to one of the states involved (and thereby spurning the others), which is also great.

(Also he was the one who started "weird" @ conservatives and I think we should take that seriously as a very good political instinct/move. Judging in large part by how it has so clearly hit an actual nerve with conservatives like so little else. Also hugely relevant: that post going around about how part of why conservatives are so upset about "weird" is because in the Midwest, "weird" specifically also implies anti-social or harmful behavior.)

Officially feeling more optimistic about Trump not winning in November

[dumbbitchgalore]

Soon-to-be Single!Price sending this to his soon-to-be cheater wife to show her how good the new babysitter is taking care of him (🌽 link)

John’s intentions with bringing you into the house as a babysitter were genuinely pure. He wanted you to help fill the void inside his twin daughters’ hearts ripped open by their absent, whoring mother. 

One night he finds himself scrolling through the Au Pair website looking for the suitable candidate and he finds you. A foreigner, good with kids, previously working as a tutor and now currently on a gap year from studying at university to give a helping hand mouth and pussy to families like his. And that is how he brought you into his home. 

John’s wife seemingly did not care, as long as her kids didn’t bother her, she couldn’t care about who’s taking care of them. 

Day by day, John becomes enamoured by you. The way you took care of his kids was pulling at his heart strings, daring him to get closer to you, to get to know you better and possibly become friends so that he has someone to take to. That is his intention, right?

He learns your favourite colour, food, the flowers you like, the designer items on your wishlist hoping to be rich enough to buy them. He memorises your features. Your perfect lips, manicured hands, your prim and proper appearance in front of him is almost like a facade to protect yourself. 

And it is, you try to protect yourself from John, to keep a distance and always be polite with an air of professionalism. You can’t let him know that your head over heels to hear his gravelling voice, to stare at his cerulean eyes or even just to get close enough to smell his cologne. You definitely didn’t want him to think of you as a strange au pair that he regretted choosing. 

Often you and John would find yourselves alone in the home after tending to the girls and putting them to bed and going to the kitchen to enjoy a snack before bed. Tonight, you find John leaning against the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of whiskey as you go to open the fridge. You know, politely acknowledging his presence. 

“Care to share a glass with me?” John’s smooth voice engulfs your presence. 

You turn back looking at him as you give him a soft smile, “Thank you for the offer Mr Price, but-”

Before you finish, he puts his hand up signalling you to stop talking and sighs before taking another sip of his drink. 

“Turning down a man going through a divorce?” 

Your eyes widen at his question, “You and Mrs Price are-”

“That slut doesn’t deserve to be called by my last name.” He says curtly. 

You nod, making your way next to him and pouring yourself a drink and taking a sip, the liquid deliciously burning down your throat.

“I’d appreciate you not telling the girls, I don’t want them worrying.”

“Of course, sir-”

“John. Just John is fine.”

“Alright, John.” You say and John swears that you were a siren in disguise at that moment. Your sweet voice calling his name like a holy man being lulled in by a succubus. 

A few too many drinks later, you find yourself in such a predicament. On the floor, watching yourself in the mirror as you sloppily makeout with John’s cock as he records you. Suckling his head, you drool onto the floor, laving it as your tongue prods at his slit, guttural moans spewing out of his mouth encouraging your ministrations. 

You let go of his tip with a ‘pop’ noise, making your way down his length. Long wet drags on your tongue along John’s veins cause him to shiver in delight, begging his body not to cum too early on. 

His voice cuts through the air of whimpers and wet sucks as John addresses his wife in the video. 

“You could never suck my cock like this and you’ve given yourself wrinkles from the amount of dumbfucks you blew after work.”

John forcefully takes your mouth off his cock, halting the momentum of pleasure inside of him. He grabs your chin harshly, making you face the camera. Your lips red and bitten from his kisses, drool staining your chin as you look at the camera doe-eyed and needy.

“This sweet little thing takes care of the girls better than you do. She’ll be a better wife than you, ya slag.”

[lets-steal-an-archive]

By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024

I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.

I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.

I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.

And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.

But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.

Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.

Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.

I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.

Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.

After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.

So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.

At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.

This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.

This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.

Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.

[animeomegas]

Omega!Neji x Alpha!Reader - Are Drunk Words Sober Thoughts?

Summary: It took about six months of vanilla sex for perverted desires began to surface in his head, but Neji knew that he couldn't bear to admit them to you. What would you think of an omega so... so... filthy? No, he had to come up with a way to get a taste of what he wanted without you realising what he was doing.

OR The four times Neji failed to seduce you (and the one time he... wait, what? No, he absolutely did not do that!)

Word count: 13.4k

Warnings: General n-sfw warning, aphrodisiacs, alcohol and being drunk, discussions of con-noncon and con-dubcon, discussions of sexual choking, extremely unhealthy view of sex and his own sexual desires in Neji's internal monologue, Neji's still learning about consent and communication, Kiba (he's there for a bit, and that warrants a warning.)

A/N: Happy birthday @omeganronpa !!!! I decided to run with the idea of an omega who wished that his alpha would look at him disrespectfully haha. Neji and his issues (lovingly said) seemed like the perfect candidate. I hope you enjoy this and have a wonderful day! <333

There were many words that Neji could use to describe your relationship. Loving, special, steady, comforting… gentle.

Over the past eight months you had shown him greater loyalty and love than he’d ever believed possible for someone like him. He’d had some of his best and worst days fighting to leave his clan and establishing a new life of his own, and you’d been by his side through all of it, always there to make sure he had a say in his own life and always there to make sure his voice was heard.

Which is why, when new feelings started to creep into his head, he felt completely ashamed. How could he want more from you? And something so… so… disgusting as well. He was being greedy and ungrateful, he knew that, but he didn’t know how to make the thoughts stop.

They tormented him most days.

He would imagine you deciding for him, knowing his body and mind better than he himself did and simply… acting. You would touch him wherever you wanted, force him through one more orgasm even after he was spent, knowing that he could handle it. He imagined you taking him, mind, body, and soul, being overcome so completely with lust that the only thing on your mind was ravishing him until he could not stand nor speak.

Neji would also daydream about you being… rougher, harder, faster with him. He wanted you to pin him down, wrap your hand around his throat, and… and… well, he’d been unlucky enough to be trapped in a conversation with Kiba last month and had been enlightened to what squirting was. He had called Kiba disgusting (which the man had readily agreed with), but the thought had lodged itself into his mind without his permission and he had to admit that he wanted to try it. Could he do it? What would it feel like? How many times would you have to make him cum for it to happen?

Whenever Neji allowed his mind to wander for even a second this past month, his thoughts would stray into dangerous territory and leave him distracted, flustered, and one more than one occasion, wet.

But no matter how much these visions tormented him, Neji couldn’t handle the thought of being honest with you about his new desires; he was far too ashamed. What would you think of his crass and ungrateful wishes? Would you be disgusted with him? Would you think there was something wrong with him? He couldn’t bear to watch the love bleed from you.

But that fearful shame didn’t diminish his desires, and Neji had to admit to himself that he needed those things from his mate before he drove himself insane. He hoped that perhaps a small taste would be enough to sate him, but that still left him with the problem of how to get you to give him what he wanted without him having to ask.

There was only one solution: He needed to push you into wanting to do these things, without you knowing he was orchestrating from behind the scenes. Maybe if he hinted, guided, and tempted you, he could get what he needed without the humiliation of having to beg for it.

PLAN 1

The first plan (and the only plan he had come up with thus far) was to subtly steer your normal love making more into what he wanted.

“You’re so wonderful, Neji,” you murmured into his neck, planting kisses in between each word. You had two fingers in him, rhythmically rubbing at his sweet spot, while your thumb pressed against his perineum. “You’ll let me know if I’m going too fast, yeah?”

Neji felt a surge of irrational disappointment at your words. He didn’t want you to ask him, he just wanted you to know. He wanted you to press harder and force an orgasm out of him without asking him first.

And that was so silly because it felt good, of course it did, everything you did to him felt good. But those sensations weren’t new to him anymore, and increasingly, they weren’t enough.

Maybe he could try asking for something different… just a little.

“Could you—” Neji faltered as you immediately lifted your head from his neck, and he was subjected to the full force of your loving gaze. He was too scared to ask you to be rougher, in case you reacted negatively, but perhaps speed would be okay. “Could you move a little faster?”

“Of course, baby,” you cooed. “Thank you for telling me.”

You did as he asked and the circles on his sweet spot doubled in speed. It was nice, the clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock proved that, but it still wasn’t the fast hammering that he wanted to try.

Disappointed curled in his gut and started to smother the flames of arousal. No! He couldn’t go soft, because then you would ask why and he’d be either forced to explain himself and watch your enamoured eyes turn hard with disgust, or lie about the reason and make you think there was something wrong with you. And there was nothing wrong with you… it was him that was broken.

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine something that could bring him to the brink. Once he came, this would be over and he could go back to the drawing board with his plan, but he couldn’t afford to go soft, he just couldn’t.

Neji imagined you holding him in place with a hand around his throat, rocketing your fingers in and out of him too quickly for him to keep up with. He imagined his legs twitching and flailing, torn between pulling your closer and pushing you away. He wouldn’t have a say in the matter, of course, you would just… pin his legs down, knowing that he could handle it. And he would trust you more than anything, understanding that you were going to make him feel better than he’d ever felt before.

Neji’s cock twitched so hard it slapped him in the stomach. The fantasy was working! He continued daydreaming.

And when he finally reached that precipice, he would cum so hard that his eyes rolled back. Liquid would rush out of him as you pulled your fingers out. He imagined the way Kiba had described squirting, with the rush of wet warmth forced out of him, fuck, fuck!

A loud, drawn-out moan forced its way through his closed lips. He heard you hum in pleasure alongside him, your fingers speeding up ever so slightly.

His eyes opened. He needed to try something, any of his fantasies, with you. His mind was foggy with lust and enough of the shame had melted away to force him into action. He acted on the first idea that came into his head.

His hands hadn’t been doing much of anything as you worked his body, so he snaked one down and wrapped it around his cock. His was hot and heavy and so swollen it almost hurt. Neji made a few performatively clumsy strokes, making sure to exaggerate the shaking in his arm. You either didn’t notice or decided against commenting on it. He wanted you to brush his hand away and promise to take care of it for him, but maybe you just needed a little push.

“Alpha, I can’t do it right,” he whined, biting his lip and turning away from you. “I don’t know how to do it like you.”

“I—what?”

Your voice was startled and decidedly unsexy. Neji felt a humiliated flush crawling up his chest, but he was determined to persevere. He reached down and tugged your hand from out of him and dragged it over to his cock. You tentatively wrapped your hand around it, but when he drew up enough courage to look at you, he saw a furrowed brow and a concerned tilt of your head.

“Alpha, it doesn’t feel as good when I do it… can you teach me?”

Play along, please play along.

And thank kami, after a few still moments, you did.

You started moving your hand up and down his shaft, the combined wetness from your hand and his weeping cock more than enough to ensure a smooth journey. Every second stroke you dipped the tip of your finger into his slit and rubbed at the sensitive head, just how he liked it.

“You like this? Is that better?” Hearing your voice like that was like injecting fire straight into his veins.

He nodded, a whine slipping from him that was far less performative this time.

“Good, I’m glad. Just relax, alpha has you.”

Endorphins flooded Neji’s body and for a moment he was so filled with euphoria that he couldn’t speak. Yes, yes, this was what he wanted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start, and it felt so good. He wanted you to have him, to know him, to be so sexy and alluring to you that you can’t hold yourself back around him.

Neji’s mind was floating somewhere amazing, which was probably why the next words slipped out without him realising they weren’t confined to his daydream.

“Mm, it’s so sensitive, I’m so sensitive, alpha, please, it’s too much.”

His mind was darting between fantasies. Would you tell him he could take it? Would you compliment him on the pretty tears in his eyes? Would you say nothing and just keep pleasuring him as he whined and squirmed?

Shivers ran down his spine.

But then you removed your hand and the whole fantasy came crashing down.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ve stopped. You okay?”

Neji’s eyes sprang open. Had he said that out loud?!

His alpha was looming over him, concern in their eyes as they watched his reaction. His scrambled mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. His chest was heaving, his cock straining, and his hole aching and soaked. He… he was so close, but now the arousal was warring with the panic.

“Neji?” you prompted. Your voice was even more worried now and it finally gave him the motivation to kick the last of the fog from his mind. “Are you alright? Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine, we can keep going, I didn’t mean to say that, I—”

“No, I think we’re done for this evening.” Their voice was still quiet and concerned as they watch him sit up. “Easy, let me wipe you down.”

“I said I’m fine,” Neji argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’re not.” You used your clean hand to cradle his head and press a kiss to his forehead. “It’s obvious that something isn’t quite right this evening. You’re distracted and spacey, and I’m worried. We’re done for tonight.”

Humiliated tears sprung to his eyes and Neji slammed them shut to keep you from noticing. This was ridiculous. He was fine! But this was proof of his fears, wasn’t it? He had tried one of his fantasies and you had reacted like he was ill or behaving weirdly.

Upset, he slid off the bed and walked towards the bathroom, ignoring you calling his name.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he muttered, before slamming and locking the bathroom door behind him.

Plan failed. Great.

PLAN 2

After the disaster of plan one, Neji had tried his hardest to lock his strange feelings away permanently, abandoning his ridiculous plan in favour of appreciating the relationship he had. And for a while, it had worked. The humiliation associated with his first attempt had been strong enough to kill his arousal every time his mind strayed.

But Neji should have known that he wasn’t lucky enough for that to remain the case.

He was sitting on the engawa at the back of the house now, newly returned from a three-week long mission, admiring the garden and wildlife. His alpha had brought him tea and some melon slices to snack on before leaving him alone to decompress. It was a ritual they always practiced after longer missions when some solo time was required to compartmentalise.

And boy, did he have some compartmentalising to do.

Because he still couldn’t believe that he fell off a tree in front of his entire team. A team which, to rub salt into his wounded pride, included another Hyuuga (although Neji didn’t use that name anymore, instead preferring his alpha’s name) who seemed to take great joy in smirking at his genin level failure.

And to make matters even worse, Neji had only fallen from the tree because he’d been distracted daydreaming about his alpha ‘capturing’ him and taking him in the woods.

It had happened days ago, but it was still fresh enough that it brought a heat to Neji’s face which he quickly hid in his cup of tea even though there was no one to see him.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the tea, and tried to steady himself.

Honestly, as much as the embarrassment was horrific, there was something much more important to consider: the fact that his daydreams had put him in danger on a mission.

Thankfully, he had received nothing worse than a face full of leaves and a bruised ego, but what would happen next time he got distracted with his impure thoughts? Would he fail to spot a trap? Would he miss a signal from a teammate? Would he take a knife to the throat and leave his mate widowed?

Neji took another steadying breath at the thought; it was clear he couldn’t ignore the problem anymore. He needed to find a way to get at least a little of what he wanted. Perhaps if he could make you feral over him, he would feel better.  He wanted to feel desired in a way that was beyond your control. He wanted to feel enthralling for his body, not just his mind and personality. Could he find a way to make you go crazy over him and hopefully provoke the sort of passion and roughness he was looking for?

Neji looked out into his garden as he pondered the question. It was a beautiful garden, lined with trees for privacy, a small area for training at the back and a koi pond at the front. The garden hadn’t been designed by him, it had been there when you had both moved in, but he had been caring for it meticulously, so Neji felt that he was allowed to be proud of it.

It was an almost hypnotically calm space, and one so very different to the mess that currently plagued Neji’s mind.

He paused, midway through raising his tea to his mouth. Perhaps that was it? The garden was enthralling because it was beautiful, yes, but it was beautiful not just because of the nice bare bones, but because there had been time and effort put into making it look beautiful and cared for beyond its innate charm.

If he applied that logic to himself… Neji still only owned the clothes from before he was free from his clan, and those were almost entirely formal wear, training clothes, and mission clothes.

Neji felt like an idiot for not realising it sooner. Of course you weren’t going crazy over his body, he wasn’t putting in any effort to dress it up or adorn it with beautiful things. His natural beauty could only carry him so far, after all.

But, he considered, taking a slice of melon and popping it in his mouth, where would he find clothes like that? He didn’t own any and he didn’t know how to go about getting them either.

As horrible as the thought was… he had to admit that he needed some help.

…

Though Neji’s genin team had been officially disbanded for many years at this point, they still made an effort to meet up and train together at least once a fortnight, barring clashing mission schedules.

There was something nostalgic and familiar about training with his old team that set Neji a little more at ease than he would otherwise be considering what he was about to ask them.

They had stopped for lunch and were all resting in the shade of the trees, each working their way through the bento boxes that Neji had prepared for them all this morning.

“These are most wonderful bento boxes, Neji!” Lee exclaimed, eating his with gusto. “There is plenty of protein to ensure we can train at our maximum potential!”

Neji shot him a small half smile.

“Thanks, Lee. I’ve been cooking more frequently recently, and I think my bento boxes are getting better.”

“Yosh! I agree, my rival! Improving one’s skills through dedicated practice is most youthful!”

“I agree,” Tenten chimed in, much less enthusiastic but still with a smile on her face. “Look at you now, all domestic and stuff. Mated life suits you.”

“Cooking is a life skill for everyone, not just mated omegas,” he disagreed, although he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt at her words.

She rolled her eyes.

“You know that isn’t what I meant.”

There were a few minutes of silence as they all finished eating and remained seated to allow the food to settle. Now was the perfect time to bring up his problem. He could do this.

As Neji took in a deep breath, both of his teammates’ eyes snapped to him. He forced himself to retain as much composure as he could.

“While we have a moment to spare, there is actually something I wished to gain your insight on.”

Lee looked delighted that Neji would be coming to him for advice and Tenten sent him a measured, but slightly surprised look. She held up a hand to stop Lee’s oncoming flood of words and assurances and spoke.

“Is something the matter?” Her face darkened a little. “Have there been more issues with your clan?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It is an issue of a more… personal kind.” He cleared his throat, trying to push out the words he needed to say in an order that made sense. “I wish to buy some clothes.”

At their obvious confusion, he kept speaking, knowing full well that he was starting to babble but not knowing how to stop.

“Not just normal clothes, of course, I’m capable of shopping for myself, it’s just that I only seem to own practical or formal clothes from shinobi tailors, and now my alpha is here and for them, I mean, they take me out for special dates, and I’ve found myself lacking in appropriate clothing. I haven’t bought myself anything other than essentials since leaving the clan, and I know which tailors my other clothes are from, but I’m searching for something a little…” Sexier, more form fitting, alluring, “Prettier.”

He swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. What was he doing?! And why couldn’t he stop?!

“And I thought that perhaps a civilian retailer may be better suited to my needs, but I’m unfamiliar with that civilian retail district and prices and sizing and I just wondered if either of you—”

“Neji.”

He looked up hesitantly. Lee was staring at him, jaw hanging open a little. Tenten was watching him with such a disgustingly soft look in her eyes that he almost recoiled. She grabbed his hand before he could.

“Neji, it’s totally normal to want to do some reinventing after what you went through,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve got your freedom for the first time, of course you want to experiment with fashion.”

Lee nodded furiously.

“Clothes are a wonderful source of self-expression! It is only by discovering ourselves that we may embrace our true youthfulness!”

Oh. They hadn’t really understood what it was he wanted, he didn’t think, but it was probably better that they thought he was doing some self-exploration rather than attempting to seduce his alpha. He would get their help either way, and this version was far less embarrassing.

Still though, it was pleasant to see them so willing to help. Neji didn’t know what to say in the face of such genuine support. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“And,” Tenten continued, lowering her voice and squeezing the hand she was still holding, “no matter what your clan may have said, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to try out something more… feminine either, okay?”

Neji pulled his hand back like it’d been burnt.

“That’s—That’s not what I—I just meant—”

Why was she smiling like she knew something he didn’t? He couldn’t help but imagine it for a moment though, him wearing a dress, soft and gentle and—his stomach lurched. No. No! He would not let her put even more weird thoughts into his head!

Tenten was leaning against a tree with a smug smile and Neji refused to look at her anymore.

“Regardless, let’s meet outside yours at 7 tonight, and Lee and I can take you shopping.”

“Tonight? Won’t everything be closed?”

Tenten winked at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out, just be ready by 7, okay?”

Neji knew so little about how the civilian shops operated that he had no choice but to agree to her plan, even if he was sceptical about things being open that late. But even through his scepticism, he was touched that his friends had agreed to help him and relieved that he wouldn’t have to do this alone.

They finished up their training and then he went home to shower and eat some dinner before his teammates came round to pick him up.

By 19:30, Neji and his old teammates were silently approaching a large clothing store at the very edge of the civilian retail district. The windows were shuttered and the front door had the sign turned to closed.

“Tenten, I believe this establishment may be closed,” Lee pointed out, gesturing to the sign. “But fear not, I’m sure we can—”

“It sure is,” Tenten said, casually pulling a key from her pocket. “But I have the key.”

She unlocked the door and pushed both of them in before closing it behind her.

“Is this legal?” Neji asked, not bothering to resist her manhandling.

“Of course. My family are friends with the owners, and they’re cool with it as long as we pay and tidy up after. I just figured you’d probably be more comfortable with some privacy.”

Oh.

“I see. That’s… thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

She flicked on the light switch just in time for him to see her shoot him a grin.

“Don’t worry about it. Now, are you ready to choose some clothes?”

“Yosh! Let’s do this!”

He could do this!

…

Originally, Neji had been sequestered into the changing rooms while Tenten and Lee promised to bring him an outfit from a bunch of different styles to try on so that he could narrow down what he wanted. On one hand, he was slightly offended that he’d been left out of choosing outfits for his own wardrobe, but on the other, he had to admit it was less overwhelming doing it this way, as the shop had been even bigger than it seemed on the outside.

He wasn’t alone for long though, as Lee found himself also banished to the changing rooms for giving Tenten one too many ‘helpful’ suggestions. He was practically vibrating as he waited for his role of hype man, something he’d undoubtedly be better at, to begin.

After an hour, Neji had discounted ultra casual (“I would never leave my house dressed in such a way,”), gothic (“Do people not realise how hot Konoha is? Surely no one is stupid enough to walk around in all black,”), simple practical (“These are fine, but they are just like the clothes I own except less durable, so what’s the point of them?”), grunge (“What do you mean it’s supposed to look like this?”), and even something Tenten had referred to as modern party (“I sincerely doubt that this top has enough fabric to meet the legal definition of a shirt. And it’s so tight! I—I can’t breathe in it. No, I’m not coming out to show you! You shouldn’t have picked something like this in the first place, it’s so inappropriate!”).

“Gosh, you’re a difficult customer,” Tenten complained, taking back yet another rejected outfit to add to the discard rack that she’d dragged out from somewhere.

“Tenten! We must not be impatient while Neji is discovering the fabrics to represent him! It is an important moment and we promised to support him.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Okay, try this one.”

She handed him a bag and he took it before closing the curtain to give himself some privacy.

Wasting no time, Neji pulled the first item out of the bag. It was black and made of a floaty, gauze-like fabric. At first, he thought it was a skirt, but upon holding it up he realised it was a pair of shorts. He vaguely recognised the style as being popular among civilian male omegas and was glad that it seemed inoffensive compared to some of Tenten’s other choices.

The only other item in the bag was a silk, lilac shirt that felt pleasant on his fingers. He pulled it out and he was taken aback by how unlike him the style was, but then he reminded himself that that was the point.

It had a high neckline with buttons running down the centre, with the entire of the torso section being gently ruched. The sleeves were large and floaty, with tight cuffs at the wrists to keep the fabric out of the way. To finish, it had a bow around the neck, although it was tied more like an ascot than anything.

He felt unsure looking at it, but it wasn’t bad enough to refuse to try it on, so he methodically went about changing out of his clothes and into these new ones, a dance that had become familiar over the last hour.

Neji honestly hadn’t expected much when he finally turned to the mirror, still doing up the final button, but when he saw himself, he choked on his breath. Was that… him?

He focused on the mirror, brushing his hands down the new outfit and watching his reflection do the same. He looked pretty. Soft.

It was cute and it fit him like a glove. It showed off his legs while still retaining a sense of class, and if he just… there, he held his hair up in a mock ponytail and it highlighted the flash of skin between the collar of the shirt and his jaw, drawing attention to the sensitive area without flashing it too brazenly.

He swallowed and his mouth felt dry. It was different, certainly, but not bad.

And hopefully his alpha would find it alluring.

“What do you think?”

Neji jumped; he’d forgotten his teammates were waiting outside.

“I—I like this one.”

Lee cheered and Neji could hear Tenten clapping.

“Come on out then, let us see!”

Bashfully, Neji pulled back the curtain. Lee cheered again at the sight of the outfit and Tenten did a wolf whistle that had Neji shooting her a glare.

“It suits you well, my friend!”

“Yeah,” Tenten agreed. “You pull it off, and it’s perfect for date nights.”

Goodness, it was embarrassing to be the centre of attention over something like this, but he was still glad to have found an outfit he liked.

“I’ll go get some similar stuff, put that outfit in the ‘to buy’ pile.”

“Where’s the ‘to buy’ pile?”

“We haven’t put anything in it yet, so it’s wherever you want.”

…

Neji had walked out of the changing rooms with an armful of clothes in the style he had chosen, naively believing that he was done, only to get pushed into the shoes and accessories section of the shop, thus delaying the finishing time by a further hour and a half and making Neji debate about whether he should get his ears pierced or not.

He hadn’t known that shoes were so complicated, honestly. He wore his shinobi sandals outside and his slippers inside, that was that, and he’d never given it any more thought.

Now he had opinions on things like strap width, heel height, and sole support.

After Tenten had become frustrated with Lee dragging too many pairs off the rack for Neji to try, she had set him a challenge to figure out which pair of heels would theoretically be best to run around the village in, so as Neji had been trying on shoes, he’d had a click, click, clicking noise to serenade him as Lee ran up and down the aisle in different pairs of heels.

All the shouting about youth and having to ‘introduce this challenge to Gai Sensei’ would probably have been distracting to anyone else, but Neji was used to it.

He was exhausted by the time he had dumped everything on the counter; he’d done week-long missions that were less tiring.

It was at that moment, as if to torment him, that he noticed a section that he hadn’t looked in yet: nightwear and lingerie.

“Right, so we’ve picked out clothes, some jewellery, a new pair of shoes, do you want anything else, Neji?”

Neji startled at the sudden sound of his teammates voice, but he didn’t look away fast enough and Tenten easily followed his gaze.

“I was just—”

Tenten cut off his defence with a smirk and grabbed Lee by the arm.

“Let’s start scanning while Neji finishes up here, okay Lee?”

“Um, I thought we were supposed to be helping Neji—”

“We are! We’re scanning things for him, and we’ll be great scanners.”

Lee’s face brightened.

“Yosh! I will scan all of Neji’s clothes to my utmost ability, and if I fail, I will run 50 laps around the village on my hands, no, in heels! And—”

“Uh huh, I get the idea, Lee.”

Their voices faded out and Neji was left standing by the lingerie section, his face warm.

This would certainly make his alpha interested, no? That was the whole reason he came he, wasn’t it?

Neji hesitated. He should get something, certainly, but what did he choose?

In the end, he panicked, grabbing a few random things that were in his size, grateful that he’d just had himself measured for his new mech armour. He walked away with a see-through dressing gown, a white cotton gauze lingerie set, a lacy blue bodysuit, and two pairs of the shortest cotton shorts he’d ever seen, one in a dusty grey colour and the other in black with white polka dots.

He scanned them himself and quickly shoved them in the bottom of his bag before anyone could comment on them.

It came to more than he had expected and he hoped you weren’t too angry about the money he’d spent… who was he kidding? One mention of wanting a new wardrobe after leaving his clan and you’d hand over everything you had and then take extra missions just to give him more.

Sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve the love of an alpha so perfect, but he loved you so much.

He really, really hoped that this outfit could give him the last thing he was missing in the relationship and finally put his ridiculous thoughts to sleep.

…

When you came home from your mission a week later, Neji planned a dinner date at your home. He cleaned, made dinner, slipped into the lacy blue bodysuit and then debated just going downstairs like that, before he chickened out and put some of his new clothes on over the lingerie. He picked the very first outfit combination that Tenten had provided him with because it was still his favourite.

Once he was dressed, he brought the plates through to where you were waiting at the dining table. He watched your normal smile slide off your face as you registered his new outfit. Your jaw dropped and Neji felt a rush of confidence as he put your plate in front of you before sitting down with his own.

“You—Are those new clothes?” you asked, once you’d seemingly found your voice.

“Yes.” Neji loved the way your gaze felt hot and heavy against his skin. “I figured it was time to get something that wasn’t for missions or training.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before, to his alarm, your eyes started to get watery.

“Are—are you okay?” he asked, hesitant. “Do you not like them?”

“No, no, Neji… you look so beautiful.” Your gaze pinned him; he felt raw and exposed. “Really, you look more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen and—” you took his hands in yours across the table. “I am so proud of you.”

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Neji’s heart quivered in his chest as he felt the sting of tears come to his own eyes. How could you do this to him? How could you make him feel like this? He didn’t understand.

“They’re just clothes,” he whispered.

“We both know that’s not true, not after everything we fought for.” You squeezed his hands and then let them go. “Let’s enjoy this wonderful meal you’ve made before it gets cold, and I can appreciate your new outfit afterwards, okay?”

Were you going to ravish him after dinner? Did his plan finally work?

After dinner, he found out that your appreciation involved dancing with him in the kitchen, cradling him to you while you hummed a never-ending tune.

You didn’t even get to see his lingerie, but somehow Neji couldn’t find it in him to mind.

PLAN 3

No matter how many times Naruto asserted that he didn’t in fact have a kekkei genkai, Neji still wasn’t convinced.

Because if he didn’t have some kind of magic power to make people talk, then that meant that Neji had just honestly shared his problem with Naruto of his own volition, and there was no way he had just done that.

To his credit, Naruto didn’t laugh when Neji told him about his struggles to incite an uncontrollable lust in his alpha and his failed attempt with a new outfit and lingerie, and instead he nodded sagely, taking a few bites of his lunch while he considered Neji’s plight.

Neji tried to focus on something else to keep his blush down, because he really could not believe what he’d just revealed to Naruto ‘loudmouth’ Uzumaki of all people. The apples in the fruit bowl were surprisingly shiny. Yes… very shiny.

“I see the problem,” Naruto said confidently after swallowing a mouthful of his food.

Neji’s gaze snapped back to him.

“You do?”

“Yep! Look, clothes can be sexy and everything, but some alphas just like what’s underneath all those clothes, you know, like, they go crazy for it, understand?”

Neji struggled to muster enough strength to respond to that, but he didn’t need to because Naruto continued.

“Like, this one time, I was using my sexy-no-jutsu and my mate—”

Neji held up a hand to cut him off.

“I don’t want to know the details, Naruto. Besides, my alpha isn’t a pervert, there’s no way they’d fall for such a tactic.”

“But you wish they were a pervert, no?” he grinned, eyebrows waggling.

Neji didn’t respond to that.

“My point is, just skip the clothes! Go au naturel!” He snapped his fingers like a great idea has just jumped to mind. “Go to the onsen, rent a private hot spring just for you two for an hour or whatever. Loads of people find that hot; I’ve seen people spying there before.”

Neji’s face twisted into displeasure.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Wha—I didn’t say I do it! I just… know some people that do.”

Neji couldn’t believe that he was going to take this idiot’s advice.

…

Neji managed to find a slot at the onsen for you both only two days after his lunch with Naruto. You had seemed happy when he brought up the idea, and he was eager to find a plan that worked before he got himself killed on a mission, so he saw little point in delaying.

He raced through his shower to make sure that he was in the onsen first and had time to get into position.

He slipped into the water, intentionally tying his hair up too loosely to hold, until the water was sitting around his lower ribs. He hissed in pleasure as the temperature forced all his muscles to relax. He took a second to acclimatise to the water, but he didn’t have all day; he wanted to be in position when you came out of the showers.

He leant against the side of the onsen, closed his eyes, opened his mouth every so slightly, and turned his neck to the side, showing off his mating mark. He heard your footsteps approaching, so he quickly used his hand to splash a little water on his neck so that water droplets would be running down his skin, hopefully catching the light and drawing your eye.

He held the position, moaning performatively at the hot water as he felt and heard you slip in beside him.

“Took you long enough,” he said, injecting pleasure into his voice. “The water feels so good.”

He heard you let out a breath as you relaxed beside him and he opened his eyes and returned his neck back to a neutral position. He would have no way of knowing if you saw what he was doing, but he hoped you had.

You looked relaxed in the hot water, the steam creating an immediate glow to your skin that Neji found himself daydreaming about licking.

No. He was here to seduce you, not the other way around; he needed to focus.

“It does feel nice,” you agreed. “Thanks for booking this, I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

Neji decided against mentioning that it was Naruto’s idea, so he just hummed in agreement.

Although, thinking of Naruto… Neji activated his Byakugan and scanned the exterior wall of the onsen. Hmm, no perverts were there. Good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, following his eye line. You sat up straighter, body tensed and alert.

“Sorry,” he said, deactivating his eyes. “I’ve heard about some perverts stalking the bathhouses recently and I thought it pertinent to check.”

“That’s disgusting,” you said, top lip curling. Neji almost purred in satisfaction at your righteous opinion matching with his. He had a wonderful alpha.

“Indeed.”

“But I take it no one is there?”

“Correct, we’re alone.”

“Good.” You relaxed back into the water with a sigh.

There was a lull as Neji waited for his hair band to give out as he’d planned. He wanted it to look natural, but he was getting impatient, so he stretched, knocking it a little to give it some encouragement. Sure enough, it started to come undone, his hair slowly falling around his face.

“Oh, I need to retie my hair, one moment.”

He stood up in the water, angled towards you, removing the hairband completely and gathering all the loose strands in his hands.

He stretched and flexed on purpose, fluttering the muscles in his tummy, arms and upper thighs. The water height was perfect; he could feel it tickling just below his hips, likely showing off the base of his cock for you, a little tease with the promise of more.

Hot water ran in rivulets down his body as he slowly tied his hair up into a more secure bun. Were you tracing their paths down his naked body? Did you want to catch them with your fingers, with your tongue? Were you feeling hot from more than just the water? Did you want to throw decorum to the wind and ravish him until he couldn’t remember his name?

A rush of adrenaline crashes through him and he can’t help but turn to look at you. To his initial delight, you are watching him, staring right at him even. But then he registers that you’re looking at his face and his fantasy crashes and burns around him.

When you notice him staring back at you, you smile, cheeks flushed from the heat.

“Sorry for staring… it’s just that you have beautiful eyes, I can’t help but get lost in them.”

His eyes. He’s standing in front of you, naked and dripping, and you’re talking about his eyes?!

He had to supress a growl. Stupid alpha. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Were you blind? His nipples were down here!

He sank back into the water too aggressively and the water splashed on the stone around the edges.

He huffed. He could strangle you.

No, no, it was fine. This was fine. He could just try something else; there was no need to call this plan a failure just yet.

He took a deep breath to recentre himself before laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck.

“It’s so wonderful to spend time with you like this,” he murmured. He tried his best to make sure you could feel his breath on your skin. Would it feel warm, or with all the hot water would his breath feel cool? He wasn’t sure, but as long as you noticed, he didn’t care.

You slipped your arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer. He purred and you crooned in response, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“There’s nothing in this world that I’d rather be doing than spending time with you. Thank you for organising this, really.”

“You say thank you too much,” he said between pressing kisses on as much of your neck as he could reach. You gladly accepted the kisses but made no move to reciprocate them.

“I don’t say thank you nearly enough,” you disagreed. “Because it’s the biggest blessing of my life to have you by my side.”

“Sappy alpha,” Neji crooned. “Silly and sappy.”

You didn’t argue, you just laughed.

He loved you so much. But he was also angry that he spent the rest of the hour hanging off you and you didn’t make a move on him even once.

Plan 3 was a resounding failure.

PLAN 4

Having run out of ideas and friends he was willing to consult, Neji was forced to put his seduction plans on hold.

You were on a mission anyway, he reasoned, so he had time to come up with something before you came back.

He was running errands by himself, which was much less fun without you, and he was just finishing up his shopping when he bumped into Shino.

They hardly knew each other, but still, it felt rude to move on without acknowledging him.

“Shino, good afternoon,” he said, inclining his head. There, that should be enough of an acknowledgement.

But instead of a nod back, Shino jumped half a foot in the air at the sound of his voice, quickly shoving whatever was in his hands behind his back. Oh? What was he hiding? Curiosity bloomed and Neji remained where he was to find out more.

“Neji,” Shino said, his voice entirely steady despite his shaky body language. “Good afternoon. I hope you are well.”

“As well as can be expected,” he replied, eyes focused on Shino. Shino glanced away but nodded at his answer.

“I’m glad,” he said. Neji opened his mouth to question him on his startled reflex, but Shino pushed on before he could. “I must leave now. Why? Because I have a prior engagement that I cannot be late for. Goodbye.”

Neji watched as Shino scurried away, almost jogging in his effort to excuse himself from the conversation, still hiding the object in his hands the same way he was trying to hide his rosy cheeks.

Just what in Konoha had managed to fluster the normally stoic Shino? Neji was intrigued and couldn’t resist walking over to where he had been standing to examine the shelves.

Candles, incense, bath bombs… massage oils?

Inspiration struck Neji like a bolt of lightning. Of course! Touching was inappropriate at an onsen, and his alpha wasn’t a pervert, of course they wouldn’t make a move on him! He felt like slapping his hand to his forehead; this was the last time he’d be taking advice from Naruto.

But if Neji invited his alpha to touch him in the safety of their own home…

Neji studied the shelf carefully. Vanilla, lavender, cherry blossom… aphrodisiac rose? He picked up the bottle carefully and read the back. It was exactly what it said on the tin, an aphrodisiac oil scented with rose.

Perfect. Neji threw it into his basket and made a mental note to remove the label on the front before he got home. 

He left the shop with a pep in his step and a new plan forming in his head.

…

Neji was laying on the sofa with his head resting in your lap when he made a little noise of discomfort, just as he’d planned.

The hand running through his hair stopped and he watched you peer down at him in concern.

“Are you okay? I didn’t pull your hair, did I?”

“No, no, I’ve just got a slightly sore neck from my last mission.”

“Still?”

“Mhm. It’s kind of concentrated at the tops of my shoulders, but it’s making my ribs and chest ache a little too.”

“Do you think you need to see a mednin?”

Neji shook his head slightly.

“I’m okay, although… I was wondering if you’d be up for giving me a massage. It might help.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” you said, resuming running your fingers through his hair. “I can grab some oil when the shops open tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry about that, I think we have some already.”

“Oh? You planned this out in advance? How did you know I was going to say yes?”

Neji huffed at the teasing.

“Well, you did, so that’s hardly a concern. Besides, we already had some in the cupboard.”

“I’m sure,” you laughed. “Alright then, you go set up upstairs, I need to use the bathroom really quick, and then I’ll meet you up there for your massage.”

Once he reached your bedroom, Neji quickly shed his clothes and instead put on the pure white lingerie set he’d grabbed at the clothing shop with Tenten and Lee. He took a moment to look at himself in the floor length mirror hanging on the front of his wardrobe.

It fit him well, especially considering he’d just taken it off the rack.

He ran his hands down his sides, feeling the seams at which the toned flesh of his skin turned to the slightly rougher feeling of cotton gauze around his chest and crotch. He felt powerful looking at himself like this. He’d never given much thought to his body beyond health and training, but since entering a relationship, he’d started looking at himself with different eyes.

And he liked what he saw. He just hoped that you did too.

Your lack of unbridled and inhibition-less lust towards him wasn’t because you found him average looking, right? Or… ugly?

No, no, he was going to do this massage with you, and you were going to be so worked up that you wouldn’t be able to resist ravishing him. This plan would work he was sure of it! He had several details up his metaphorical sleeve to make sure of it, including the fact that he was almost certain that any contact with the oil would turn the white lingerie see-through.

When he heard your footsteps coming up the stairs, Neji suddenly realised that he’d been standing in front of the mirror for too long and hurried to strip the bed of bedding and lay down some towels. He also pulled the oil, without the label, out from under the bed and put it on the nightstand.

He perched himself on the bed, tying up his hair into a very high ponytail, just in time for you to open the door.

“Ready?” you said, walking in. “I brought you some water because it’s pretty common to get thirsty after a massage.”

“Who else are you massaging?” Neji asked immediately, forgetting that he was supposed to be sitting attractively for a moment as his jealously flared.

You laughed softly, putting the glass of water down before finally turning to look at him.

“It’s just something I’ve heard around and about,” good, you weren’t allowed to put your hands on anyone but him, “besides I—”

You froze, cutting yourself off as you finally registered what Neji was wearing. He struggled to keep the grin of satisfaction off his face, but he wanted everything to seem accidental, so he kept a neutral, if slightly wide-eyed look, on his face.

Do you see him, alpha? Naïve, pretty, dressed in virginal white, inviting you to put your hands on him?

You swallowed heavily but seemed to orient yourself. You then grabbed the bottle of oil, flicked open the lid and tested the scent. By the time you turned back to him, you had a gentle and playful smile on your face and the lust he’d seen in your eyes had vanished. Had he imagined it?

“Rose?” you asked, grinning at him. Neji didn’t know what that grin was about.

“Yes. Is that alright?”

“It’s fine, I like rose,” you said, pouring some onto your hands and rubbing them together to warm the oil. “I just knew you would choose something like that. If you’d asked me what scent I thought you’d choose, rose would have been in my top three choices.”

It was standard teasing but there was something in Neji that enjoyed that you knew him so well. It was scary sometimes, to be perceived so thoroughly and successfully, but it was also one of the most rewarding things he’d ever experienced.

“I… like rose.”

“I know, darling. Now, are you going to lay on your front or back? Which part of your neck is hurting?”

Neji quickly laid down on his back; to make the most of the oil susceptible lingerie, he needed his front to be visible.

“The pain kind of starts at the neck and top of the shoulders but it moves down into my chest and ribs.”

You hummed thoughtfully, moving over to him and putting your hands on his shoulders. You gently rubbed at his skin, spreading the oil and warming up the muscles. The heat of your hands against his cool skin was pleasant, and the smell of roses started clouding up his head immediately.

Or maybe that was the aphrodisiac.

“Do you think it’s your scalene muscles?”

“Could be,” Neji replied, mind more focused on the rubbing feeling than the conversation. “I’m sure this massage will help regardless.”

For the next few minutes, the conversation lulled as you focused on loosening his muscles and working out any knots.

Neji was warm, so very warm, getting warmer by the second, even. His eyes had shut at some point as he just basked in the all-encompassing presence of his mate. But he was also starting to tingle.

This time it was definitely the aphrodisiac.

And Neji was grateful, because he had been starting to get worried he’d fall asleep without completing the rest of his plan. But with a new wave of arousal crashing over him, he remembered what he was here to do.

“Can you move a little further down?”

“Hmm? Here?” Your hands moved slightly below his collar bones, becoming gentler in the absence of as much fat and muscle. Your thumbs moved from the centre, outwards, tracing a pattern not too dissimilar to the one formed naturally by his ribcage.

“Yes, that’s perfect… although, I think more oil would be good.”

Before you could grab the bottle yourself, Neji stretched over to snatch it and flicked open the lid.

“I can do it,” you protested as he went to pour it directly onto his skin. “It’ll be cold coming straight from the bottle.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

With that, Neji poured more oil on his skin, making sure to use a little too much so that it ran down onto the bralette.

“Careful,” you commented as you took the bottle from him and then swiped up some of the excess oil to rub into your hands. “If there’s too much you won’t be able to feel anything at all.”

Neji couldn’t check to see if the lingerie had indeed gone translucent because it would give the game away, but you didn’t seem to react. Your eyes were on his face and your voice was steady. You crouched down onto the floor beside the bed to get a better angle, rather than leaning over him as you had been before.

“It’ll be fine.”

You didn’t roll your eyes, but Neji got the impression that it was a close call.

He could barely focus on that though; was it hot in here, or was it him?

You went back to gently massaging the top of his chest and Neji put the next part of his plan into action.

“Mmm, that feels so good,” he said quietly, his voice bordering on moaning territory. It was less performative than he’d originally planned, because he was truly starting to get uncomfortably horny, but he figured that would only work in his favour.

“Yeah? Feels nice?”

Neji hummed, biting his lip.

“A bit harder and lower, alpha.”

“Lower?” you muttered, almost too quiet for him to hear. He felt your hands hesitate for a moment before they moved ever so slightly lower.

Neji had to hold back the huff; you had permission to touch his chest, but you were still being so… difficult about it! If you wouldn’t do what he wanted, then he’d just have to do it.

Using his core and leg muscles, Neji shifted upwards just as you were dragging your hands downwards. The base of your palm, right before your wrist, brushed firmly over his nipple, and Neji honestly hadn’t realised until that moment how hard they were.

He hissed in pleasure, his cock giving an interested twitch and his hole clenching around nothing. Fuck, that felt so good, he was so hot he could barely think straight. He was barely aware of you freezing one second and then pulling your hands back the next.

“Your skin is getting really red, so we should probably stop,” you murmured, wiping your hands on a towel. “Hopefully that should help the pain though. I’m just going to wash my hands.”

You were up and into the bathroom before Neji had time to process anything. The click of the door locking is what broke him out of his spell.

He sat up blearily, covered in oil and sweat, with his inner thighs suspiciously damp with a third sticky liquid. His first instinct was to check the state of his lingerie. Just as he’d hoped, the oil had rendered his bralette utterly useless; his areolas were clear to see, as were his hardened nipples. But what he was both more and less shocked to notice was the massive hard on he had.

His cock was straining at the fabric of his panties, lifting it off him and leaving little to the imagination. Even down there, away from the oil, his lingerie hadn’t escaped the see-through treatment; there was a rather sizeable wet spot around his tip that drooled obscenely.

Surely, surely, this plan had worked. You would have to be blind not to see how erotic this was. But then, if you’d picked up on that, why had you gone to wash your hands? Neji bit his lips, worried. He wanted you to come back. Maybe you had gone to wash your hands so that you could grip him better? Yes… yes, that must be it. You’d be back any moment now, he was sure of it.

But then you weren’t.

He waited, probably not for as long as it felt, but certainly longer than it would take to wash one’s hands, even if they were covered in oil.

Neji waited long enough to lay back down. He still felt really hot, but there was a loneliness to it now, like a fire burning alone in the middle of the desert with no one to tend it. It made him feel sad.

When you finally appeared, the first thing Neji noticed was that the shower was running, although you were still dry and wearing the same clothes as before. The second thing he noticed was that, as far as he could tell by looking, you weren’t aroused at all. And your clothes were tight enough that he would notice.

“I’ve started running the shower for you, darling. It should be nice and warm, to really make sure all the tightness bleeds out of you, and I’m sure getting the oil off will be nice too. I’ll clean up in here while you’re in there.”

Neji felt sadder.

“Okay,” he mumbled, not interested in arguing. He stood up on shaky legs and wobbled his way to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

He turned the shower down; he didn’t want a hot shower when his skin felt like it was burning.

At least the water made it easier to pretend he wasn’t crying.

(Not a) PLAN 5

You had been having several of the most stressful, restraint-testing, pent up months of your life.

Getting to spend your life with Neji, fight alongside him for his freedom, mate with him, support him… all of it was a joy and a privilege that you couldn’t be more grateful for.

But if you were honest, it was also a burden, on you and on Neji. Things weren’t easy. Neji had been hurt, emotionally and physically, and it was only after you started living together that you had a first-hand understanding of how deep some of his scars ran, and of how he’d been simultaneously thrown into the deep end from far too young and also sheltered completely.

Neji needed so much support and patience as he slowly figured things out. And you were proud to say you’d been there for him to the best of your ability. But there were also things he didn’t need, like pressure to make him live his life a certain way, or overt pity, and he especially didn’t need some knothead of an alpha pushing their ridiculous libido onto him before he was ready.

How despicable of an alpha would you be if you projected your sexual desires on an omega who was only now just getting to reclaim ownership of his own body? He was at an incredibly vulnerable stage with his self-perception, and you had sworn you would not make it worse for him.

And you hadn’t.

But fuck it had been hard (pun intended.)

For the last few months especially, your will power had been tested beyond anything you’d ever experienced before.

Neji had become more vocal in bed suddenly, and also more likely to get overwhelmed and teary eyed when you touched him. You figured it was him getting more comfortable with you, but the whining and pawing was making it difficult for you to focus on remaining a calm, steady presence for him.  

And then he had come home with an entire new wardrobe, and you were so proud of him, but also that new wardrobe seemed to include several pieces of lingerie that he now casually wore around the house, flashing you a glimpse of blue lace straps underneath his regular clothing. He was expressing himself and his autonomy… but kami, was he alluring. You wanted to rip the new clothes off him.

To make matters even worse, he’d booked you a private session at the onsen, and while you’d bathed together many times before, there was something crazy erotic about that day. You’ll never forget watching the water drip off his naked body as he stood to retie his hair. You only just managed to snap your gaze back to his face when he looked over at you, so he didn’t think you were being creepy in what was technically a public facility.

The cherry on top of this erotic sundae was when he’d asked you for a massage. He’d worn pure white lingerie without even suggesting that it was anything but normal for him to do that, and then accidentally poured too much oil on himself and turned the lingerie transparent, all while prompting you to touch him ‘lower’ each time, seemingly unaware that you were one centimetre away from rubbing his nipples.

By the end, it had been so unbearable that you’d fled to the bathroom to quickly get yourself off, even though you’d done that before the massage too to try and circumvent any issues. Then you sent Neji to the shower before he noticed the state he was in and got embarrassed. You couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable he’d have been if he’d known you were getting off on a massage designed to relieve his pain, or if he’d noticed the state of his lingerie.

You did your best to pretend not to notice anything.

And then suddenly it had all stopped. Neji became quiet and withdrawn almost overnight. He’d stopped touching you, stopped talking to you, and when you asked if he was okay, he just claimed to be tired.

So, it had been a difficult few months, and honestly, the last thing you wanted was to leave the house with a miserable Neji and meet up with your friends at a bar. You were simply feeling too horny and confused for conversation… but it was Sakura’s birthday, and so here you were, sitting in a booth with some of your friends and nursing a single drink that you really weren’t that interested in.

At least you had claimed a seat on the edge; it felt a little less suffocating there. Neji was sat beside you, and then Tenten, Hinata, Shikamaru and his mate, Naruto, and finally Kiba, who was sitting directing in front of you at the other edge of the circular booth, Akamaru having been left at home for today.

“—So I said to Kakashi sensei, ‘I’d love to be hokage, pass over the hate right now, old man, quit complaining’, but then he asked me to name the duties of an ambassador, and then I said, I don’t even know what that word means, sensei, and he got super quiet and kicked me out of the office. But what I don’t get is, like, if you don’t want the job, just give it to me, I’ll figure it out, dattebayo!”

Shikamaru shook his head in despair while Hinata giggled at the story.

Neji was quiet, having already finished his first drink. And his second drink. And his third drink. Honestly, you’d never known him to drink much, but you couldn’t say you knew everything about him yet. When you’d calmly suggested slowing down, you’d received a death glare, so you’d been holding your tongue ever since.

You watched him try to take a sip from an empty glass, only to pull it away in confusion. He put it back on the table, pouting, and then just swapped your glasses without even asking and started drinking your drink instead.

You just let it happen; you weren’t really drinking it anyway.

You didn’t notice him finish it, but by the time Naruto’s next anecdote had wrapped up, what was once your glass was also empty. You looked over at your mate and saw how flushed his face was and how glassy his eyes were. You were going to put your foot down and tell him no more, because you’d never seen him this intoxicated before and it was honestly making you nervous, but when he saw you looking at him, he just huffed and laid his head heavily on your shoulder. You put your arm around him and let him rest there. If he wasn’t going to drink any more anyway, then there was no point starting a fight over it, so you said nothing.

The thoughts were interrupted when a new person approached your booth.

“Babe!” Kiba said, waving his mate over. “You’re back!”

“Hey guys,” they said easily, pressing a kiss to Kiba’s head. “How’s it going over here? Behaving?”

They addressed that last part to Kiba in particular, who grinned.

“And if I’m not?” he goaded. “You going to punish me?”

You, Shikamaru, and Tenten all groaned at the display. Those two were completely insufferable. Naruto and Shikamaru’s mate just sniggered, while Hinata went slightly pink. You were all more than used to their shenanigans by this point, but that didn’t mean you liked seeing it any more than you did the first time.

“Jeez, get a room,” Shikamaru said, closing his eyes; he knew it was a losing battle.

“And not this room, by the way,” Tenten chimed in, crossing her arms. “A different room. Far away from here.”

“You guys are just jealous.” Kiba stuck his tongue out and his mate laughed at the sight.

Suddenly, a new sound pulled your attention. It was a quiet sniffing sound, and you could only hear it because it was so close to your ear.

It was Neji. And he was crying.

Alarmed, you pulled away from him so that you could see his face. Sure enough, tears were starting to bubble out of his eyes and fall down his heated cheeks. He scrubbed at his face clumsily.

Now that his face was visible, his tears weren’t only noticeable to you, and the conversation at the table went quiet.

“Neji?” you said, gently holding his face, concerned. “Neji, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

Neji shook his head, a sob escaping. Tenten put her hand on his shoulder from the other side and you both exchanged worried looks over his head.

“Y-you don’t t-treat me like th-that,” he sobbed, looking so far away from the stoically composed Neji you always saw in public. You wanted to fix whatever the problem was, soothe your omegas worries and stem his tears, but you had no idea what he was talking about.

You exchanged worried looks with everyone else at the table as they awkwardly looked on. You didn’t know if it was best to address his issues or try and take him somewhere private. You didn’t know he was a sad drunk, and for his sober self, removing him from the public audience seemed like the kindest option.

“Let’s go and talk about why you’re sad, baby, why don’t we go home? It’ll be nice and quiet and—”

“No! You don’t l-love me!”

Several gasps went around the table and honestly, although you knew he was drunk, you were extremely hurt to hear him say that.

“Calm down, Neji,” Tenten said, squeezing your shoulder. “You’re just drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yeah!” Naruto interjected. “You guys are perfect together!

“Neji, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way, but it’s absolutely not true.” You tried to keep your voice steady and firm. Beyond your friends, Neji’s loud sobbing was starting to garner the attention of some strangers. “You are the most important person in my life, and I love you more than anything, you know that. Let me take you home, Neji, you’ve had too much to drink.”

You tried tugging on his arm, but he resisted.

“Okay, fine, fine, you love m-me,” he said between heaving breaths, “but—but you don’t think I’m sexy!”

Everyone at the table looked as baffled as you felt.

“What?”

“I-If you did, you’d f-fuck me harder, but you don’t,” Neji let out a mournful whine before he continued talking, “because you think I’m average and you regret mating me!”

You could not believe your mate was a sloppy, depressive drunk and it was breaking your brain. This was Neji, the man that had so much control over his own body and mind that he learnt a secret clan jutsu just from observing it! The man that never let more than a speck of dust enter his home! The man scoffed at inappropriate public displays! He was here, dragging made up drama about your sex life into public, sloshed out of his mind.

“You- you wish that I was different!” he accused, crying. “You probably w-wish that I w-was blonde!”

Some of the tension broke at the sheer absurdity of Neji’s statement. Hinata looked mortified, and Tenten had her face in her palms, but most of the table was trying to hide their snorts. Naruto was giggling, as was Kiba. Shikamaru was staring open mouthed as his mate muffled their laughter in his shoulder.

“Alpha, I don’t w-want to be blonde!”

The majority of the table, and several eavesdroppers, lost their composure completely. Naruto had tears on his cheeks now as he laughed harder than you’d ever seen him laugh. Even Hinata’s shoulders were shaking as she tried to supress her laughter.

Finally, you managed to kick your tongue into gear.

“Alright, Neji, that’s enough, I’m taking you home right now, no arguments.”

You stood up from the booth and proceeded to try and manoeuvre Neji out. He didn’t exactly fight you, but he didn’t help either, and your friends were about as useful as a pair of wet socks, as incapacitated by laughter as they were.  

The second you finally had him out of the booth’s clutches, Neji’s knees gave out. You grunted, but managed to get a hold on him, lifting him in your arms.

“Thanks for the help, guys.” Your friends only laughed harder. You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to take Neji home, do us both a favour and pretend you don’t remember this.”

“Never,” Kiba snorted, wiping tears from his eyes. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Our first baby was literally born two months ago,” Kiba’s alpha chimed in, arms crossed. Despite their words, their voice was also filled with mirth.

“Sure,” Kiba agreed. “That was pretty good, but finding out that Neji has a phobia of being blonde is way funnier.”

The laughter renewed at his words. You ignored them and worked on weaving your way through the crowds without dropping your still sniffling mate. He was going to be so embarrassed tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

The cooler air was a relief as you exited the bar, even if the Konoha air was never really cold. Neji only became wrigglier and more difficult to hold though.

“Neji, please stop squirming—”

“I want a piggyback ride.”

You took a deep breath to maintain your composure. You were choosing to have patience about this.

“Fine.”

You put him down and helped him stumble around until he was standing behind you and then you crouched down so he could climb on. Your ever graceful mate didn’t really climb per se, he sort of just flopped on top of you, tucking his face into the juncture between your shoulder and neck. You were forced to adjust him, channelling chakra into your arms to make it easier.

Neji hummed as you stood up and continued on your journey home.

“Alpha?”

“Yes, baby?”

“W-why don’t you find me sexy? What can I do to f-fix it?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand why you’re upset about this, I’ve always thought you were the prettiest, sexiest, most beautiful omega on the planet.”

“Then… then…” Neji sniffled, wiping his face on your shirt, which you didn’t really appreciate but also didn’t comment on; as long as he didn’t throw up on you, you’d count your blessings. “Why don’t you fuck me properly?”

“I don’t… Are you unhappy with me in the bedroom?”

“Yes. You’re not d-doing it right.”

That stung. He might have been drunk, but didn’t people say that drunk words were sober thoughts?

 “I’m sorry… How—what do I need to do to make it better for you? Wait, no, never mind, we can talk about this once you’re sober.”

“No, I’ve waited s-so long. I’ve been trying to get you to f-fuck me harder for months!”

“I—Wait what? We’ve never spoken about this before.”

“I just wanted you to fuck me harder and faster and make me squirt, because Kiba’s alpha made him squirt and I w-want to try, an-and even if I say it’s too much you would fuck me through it anyway, so I c-can’t think about anything but your cock.”

Neji moaned lowly and you could feel him biting into the fabric of your top as his hips pushed something very warm and very hard into your lower back.

What. The. Fuck?

But Neji wasn’t done.

“And then you should put your hands around my neck and hold me there, and t-tell me that you own my pleasure and make me c-cum until I’m sore, alpha, please.”

Holy shit.

“Why didn’t you tell me this stuff, Neji?” you asked, still reeling from the shock. Your omega was a pervert. Your omega who reprimanded you for kissing him in public, that omega was a pervert.

“I did!” Neji complained. You could feel him pouting against your neck. “I told you to t-teach me how to touch myself, and th-then I bought lingerie and booked an onsen a-and got the massage oil that would turn my outfit see-through and—”

“That was all on purpose?!”

Had he really done all of that in order to seduce you into participating with his kinks with you? You closed your eyes for a second and sighed, just as your front door came into view.

“Stupid alpha.”

“Silly omega,” you countered, unlocking the door. “For not talking to me and just asking for what you wanted.”

“So… if I ask nicely… will you fuck me harder and faster?”

He resumed grinding his erection onto your lower back, but you just took a deep breath and deposited him on your bed. He stared up at you, red cheeked and wide eyed, looking confused about suddenly being on the bed. You couldn’t stay mad at him when he looked so adorable.

“If you still want that tomorrow morning, then I’d love to try some of your kinks out with you, I promise.”

“No,” he pouted, crossing his arms. “I want it now.”

“You’re drunk, my love.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care,” you countered, slowly undressing him so that you could tuck him into bed. “And I think we need to have another discussion about consent and communication tomorrow.”

Neji stuck his tongue out at you and the absurdity of it did make you giggle.

You finished undressing him and tucked him in. For all the arguing he was doing, physically he was cooperating for the most part. You brushed your hands through his hair as his eyes closed.

“’m sorry, alpha,” he whispered, clumsily nuzzling at your hand. “Didn’t mean to drink so much.”

And with that he was asleep.

…

When Neji first peeled his eyes open the next morning, he immediately slammed them shut again with a groan.

Ugh, he felt like shit. His head was pounding, his eyes felt swollen and crusty, and his mouth tasted like something had died in it.

He groaned again, burying himself back into the covers.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Neji made a noise at the sound of your voice but refused to open his eyes. You only laughed.

“Come on, sit up, I’ve got you some painkillers.”

The promise of getting rid of his headache did in fact motivate him to sit up, but he kept his eyes closed. He trusted you to hand him what he needed. Sure enough, two tablets were put into one hand and a glass of water in the other. He took them without looking; you wouldn’t give him anything that wasn’t safe.

Once he’d drained the glass of all the water, he held it out and felt you take it from him. Then your cool hands came to rest on his forehead. It felt nice.

“How much do you remember from last night?” you asked him.

“It was Sakura’s birthday,” he answered immediately. He remembered leaving the house with you but after that, things felt a little fuzzier. “I… must have had too much to drink, I apologise, I don’t normally do that.”

“Yes, I’ve never seen you drunk before. I had to carry you home.”

Neji felt hot with embarrassment, and he was glad to still have his eyes closed.

“I see. Then I apologise again, that can’t have been easy.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, taking your hand off his forehead. “Especially with you grinding into my back the whole time.”

It took a second for your words to register, but when they did, his eyes shot open. He hissed, battling with the small amount of light that felt like it was piercing his brain, while he tried to make sense of your words.

“Excuse me?”

“’You should fuck me harder, alpha, even if I say no, keep fucking me, alpha, I want to try squirting, alpha’, you were quite talkative as well.”

Finally adjusting to the light, Neji stared at you, open-mouthed. You just watched him with a sadistic little grin on your face.

“That’s—” Neji cut himself off, heat rushing to his face. There was no way he’d said that to you. He refused to believe it, absolutely not.

“I didn’t know my omega was so kinky,” you said, tilting your head. Then your smile dropped. “Or that he was so bad at communicating that he would spend months scheming by himself without ever considering just asking me, and then spend another full week sulking about the fact that I didn’t find him attractive, a problem he made up in his head by the way, only to try and drown his sorrows at a friend’s birthday party.”

No, no, no! Neji’s ears were ringing. He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” you said, gently returning your hand to his forehead. “I’m disappointed that you didn’t talk to me, but I’m not angry, okay? Everything is fine. Although,” you paused for a second, a fake pondering tone in your voice, “I think we should wait until tomorrow to put any of your suggestions in to action. After all, I’m not sure me, how did you phrase it… pounding you harder and faster would do much good for your headache.”

Methodically, Neji laid back down in his bed and pulled the covers up over his head. He was never drinking again.

“Aww, Neji, don’t hide!”

“I’m moving to Tea Country, and you’re not invited.”

“Really? You’re going to become a missing nin because you told your alpha you wanted them to make you squirt?”

“Shut up!”

“That would be such an embarrassing thing to have in your bingo book entry.”

“If you don’t stop talking, the first part of my bingo book entry will be about how I murdered my own mate before fleeing.”

“Ouch,” you said, not sounding hurt at all. “Well, I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

He felt the bed shift as you stood up, and then, after a moment, he felt your hand on his head through the blanket.

“I’ll make you some breakfast and bring it up for you, try to rest until the painkillers kick in and then I’ll run you a bath, okay?”

Neji just buried his face even further to his pillow. His voice was muffled but his words were easy to understand, nonetheless.

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” you sang, making your say to the door. Yep, he definitely hated you. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“…fried fish with noodles,” he muttered. “And I want some tea, the expensive one.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Neji’s face burnt as you left, clicking the door shut behind you.

He was never, ever drinking again.

[digitalsymbiote]

What makes a Mech a Mech?

Now you might think it's the shape: Humanoid, bipedal, articulated limbs. And once upon a time that might have been the case. These days those machines are a lot more diverse though, come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; you got quadrupeds, winged mechs, hell sometimes ones that don't got any arms or legs at all.

No, what makes a Mech a Mech, is the Neural Link.

Mechs are unique in the way that their pilots get wired into them. They plug their brain into a machine and they become that machine.

Y'see that's why so many of the early models were so standardized, modeled after our own anatomy and musculature. Back when the tech was first being developed, the test pool was pretty limited. All military types, foot soldiers and the like. Those folks tend to have something of a limited imagination, creativity and individuality gets beaten out of 'em until they conform to the template of what the military wants 'em to be.

Which means they aren't all that great at imaginin' their body as anythin' other than what it is.

So all those early prototypes had to conform to that. If they wanted a pilot to have a decent enough Link Aptitude, they needed Mechs that the pilots could see themselves as. Folks were already used to havin' two arms and two legs, replacin' 'em with metal instead of flesh was a short enough leap that those folks could handle it.

But y'see then they started expandin' the applicant pool; researchers and developers moved outside the military in search of folks with higher Link Aptitude. And they found that humanity is a lot more diverse than that template the military beats into its soldiers. Turns out folks can be a lot more creative with their body map. Not everybody fits into that standardized definition of what humanity is.

They were lookin' in the completely wrong place with the military, turns out. Conformity is all well and good when you're trynna rush somethin' off the assembly line, but when you're trynna really push the limits of what's possible? Well you gotta get a bit more creative with it.

That's why you don't usually see the jugheads piloting mechs anymore. They ain't as good with all the fanciness companies are packin' into them these days. Now y'know who is good with all of that? Queer folks. Transgender folks especially. Turns out growin' up in the wrong body and learnin' to deal with that makes you real good at dissociatin' and messin' with your body map. Makes it a lot easier to trick your brain into thinkin' some weird part of this metal colossus is actually part of your body now.

Once they sorted that out, synchronicity rates skyrocketed. Led to a lot of other good things too. Y'see suddenly Queer and Trans folks were prime candidates for bein' pilots, corpos needed 'em. Which meant they had to make it safe enough for folks to be those things, or at least enough to admit it to the recruiters. Kinda funny thinkin' back, that that was what tipped the scales, but I suppose you can always trust corpos to do what corpos do.

But anyway, that's why so many Mechs are custom made to their pilots nowadays. That's why they craft the IMPs alongside the pilots through basic training. You gotta build a system that'll fit the pilot's body map, and ideally one that'll make the most of it.

If that pilot's more comfortable with a tail? Give that Mech a tail. Digitigrade legs? Quadrupedal? Fuck it, if it works for the pilot, throw that shit on there. Y'see ultimately, through the Neural Link, all you gotta be able to do is trick your brain into thinkin' that Mech is your body, and then it's off to the races.

And that moment, when your mind slips into that metal monstrosity and suddenly you feel more at home than you ever did in your own flesh and blood? That's what pilots live and die for. That's how you know the engineers did a good job.

And that's what makes a Mech a Mech.

[balioc]

Let's imagine that you're trying to fix American politics by making a George Washington gambit, or perhaps a Dwight Eisenhower gambit.

Your goal here is to transcend our dysfunctionally-polarized moment by taking the two big political parties and smashing their heads together until they stop moving. You are trying to unite a supermajority of Americans behind a sane, stable, viable-consensus Middle Way - maybe through third-party shenanigans, maybe by hijacking and parasitizing the Republicans or the Democrats, whatever can be made to work.

Let's further assume - arguendo - that you have some good reason to think that you might be able to achieve this, given the right setup and the right resources. We don't need to have the argument over whether it's just a stupid idea from the get-go, that's not the point. (We also don't need to argue over what the sane stable viable-consensus Middle Way would actually be, in terms of policy prescriptions, branding, etc. Fill in your own favorite answer.)

You'll need a figurehead. A presidential candidate. Someone who can, in his person, stand in for the idea of "we're better than all this and we're actually going to set things to rights." Someone who won't immediately be treated as just another shill for the existing left/right.

A real American hero, ideally. Someone who seems like a good, trustworthy leader to as many voters as possible?

...any nominees?

Seriously. I mean it. Anyone at all? I'm coming up pretty short, and that fact scares me.

We tell jokes about God-Empress Taylor Swift (RIP @kontextmaschine), but of course that would actually be a bad idea for our project. She's popular, she might conceivably have the charisma and the intellect and the cultural-manipulation chops, but it doesn't matter; there's no escaping the fact that she's a pop star rather than anything else, and too many people would see her as inescapably frivolous. If she won, it wouldn't do the thing. Same goes for anyone else in the "celebrity performer" category.

War heroes are often good for this kind of role. Do we have any generally-accepted war heroes these days?

A scientist or high-culture artist might do. Are there any who are famous enough, and also not closely tied to an existing political faction?

I'd suggest "civil rights hero / activist leader" except that there are obviously none of those who aren't closely tied to existing political factions.

The best I can come up with on short notice is, like, Chelsey Sullenberger. Which is not super great.

(Admittedly I don't know enough about sports to say whether there's a sufficiently beloved-and-respectable athlete floating around. That would also be sort of an inherently weak choice, not much better than a celebrity performer and maybe even worse, but I can imagine really good spin doctors making it viable.)

[angelesca]

w.c. ~6.5k me? GONGAGA | (assasin) blade x gn!reader | warning for mild yandere, vague descriptions of injuries, red string of fate, everyone ships you and blade (guardian angel? more like boyfriend), reader fights for their life, xianzhou cast and stellaron hunters being stupid, silly as usual, skott is your (ex)fiance LUL💔exploring blade's past (some character study), reader implied to be yingxing's past lover reincarnated, a sidedish (whole lot) of angst, implied memory loss from mara

footnotes are included at the end of the post, including Chinese myths and proverbs :)

a/n: ignore the fact that the hair and eye is flipped😀and me using proper grammer? insane. happy 100+ followers!!! congrats again to blade for winning the poll, still the man of our dreams huhu BLADE SMOOCHERS LESGOOOOOO!!!

inspired by [touch within the abyss] (ILOVETHISMANGA SOMCUH), listening to [heavens official's blessing's] soundtrack while writing and editing was AMAZING omgg, and blade using butter knives as weapons was def taken from [black butler] lol

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

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Leave your request below. Reviews are uneccessary as all jobs are guaranteed to be well within the responder's capabilities.

Scrooooooll.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Oho? A potential challenger to test the results of my training? Come, fight me! ↳ User 'XxEradicator_Of_Dust360xX' replied: Please stop using Jiaoqiu as a barbell. User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle, can you find a pink-haired girl for me? She's skipping her training again... (；⌣̀_⌣́) Oh, leave her alive too, please. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ User 'Mr.ColdFeet' has left a review: Dearest customer, thank you for ordering the '10x "Belobogian-sourced" strawberry milk drink!! Here, I'll leave you a good review as token of my appreciation~ [Deleted by moderator] User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1': Hey, how is this website legal?😡Cease your business at once, I'm getting too many patients! User 'mostsanestbladefan' has requested: rerun when💔 ↳ Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme' replied: lmao

... Seems trustworthy enough. Although, why is everyone talking as if this was a hiring for a hitman? Wasn't this a fortune teller who can alter red string fates? Bah, whatever. This may be your last chance of escape, and you are desperate.

You press the request button and start typing:

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

Ping! A reply already? A private chat has been created. You click on it.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Your full name.

You type it out.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

...

They completely stop. "Huh?"

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' is typing...

...

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Sorry.

“Haha! I like to bully my subordinates, haha! Oink, oink– o–oops, f–force of habit,” Skott, yes, Lyndon Skott, your “insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance” wipes his mouth as if hoping to erase his words. If only it was possible to erase his entire existence too. “Anyways, fetch me my dog feed."

Out of all people, Skott is the worst possible candidate known to man. Stomach and back pains, cramps, coughs, sneezing. Every side effect ailed you anytime he did anything, as if you were an illness and the universe was trying to cough you out of its immune system.

“Here,” you say detachedly, handing it over.

Skott does a double-take. “This is... a ray gun? Where did you even get this?”

Oops. That was supposed to your last resort. “I think we're out, Skott. Your eating habits cost too much, even a dog doesn't eat twenty packs everyday.”

Skott suddenly stands up, hands on hips. “Why, you seem so tired,” Duh. “Well, it's nothing that I, Skott, the best possible candidate known to man, can't solve,” he pushes his lips together, leaning towards you. “C'mere... kissy kiss–”

You pinch his cheek before he could do anything. Skott whimpers pathetically. “I'm gonna go out and buy some dinner,” you grumble, immediately walking off.

“O–o-oink!”

Your phone blinks at you. You groan. Why did they ghost you? What's wrong with your name?

“Might as well buy more dog food too...” you mumble sourly, heading off to your usual supplier around the corner.

The store owner enthusiastically greets you, rubbing their hands together. “My, my, how lovely to see you again, my dear. Here to buy more food for your chihuahua? Haha, he sure does eat a lot for a small breed dog!”

You force a crooked smile, feeling crazy for having to lie about your fiance being a dog. “Yep... I'm here again... sadly.”

“Your chihuahua prefers wet food, right? Why don't you take a look at this new product? The texture of the loaf is incredibly soft—perfect for their jaws—which makes for easy consumption. High-quality lean meats mixed with fats, an ideal diet for a high-energy dog.”

Skott being as insane as he is would eat anything. “I'll try this one out.”

“Amazing!” The store owner beams, grinning. “Your boyfriend seems to agree too!”

“Boyfriend?” Did Skott follow you? No way. Skott doesn't walk; he marches to announce his presence with pride—there's no way you didn't hear his obnoxiously loud footsteps.

Ping! A chill runs down your back.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆' replied: Behind you.

“AAAH!!” A sching! flies past your ears, a clear sound shot straight, streamlined, like a bullet. You dodge the sword aiming for your head, lodged in the wall against your back, dog food in hand. 

The pathway you escaped along reclined into the shadows the further you ran, a detached wing from the body of Aurum Alley. An abandoned passage. Yet, two pairs of footsteps treaded the ground—one too many.

“W-who are you? I’ve done nothing wrong! I make sure to eat all my veggies- OH!” you swivel in time to miss the sharp object that would’ve hit your ankle. You look down. “A butter knife?!”

“Why are you running from me?” the voice calls out.

“Why are you trying to kill me?!” you shout back. 

A pair of crimson eyes unravel behind the curtain of shadows. Highlighted with a target on your head, the spotlight shines on you, casted as the main character by this stranger.

They approach, way too close for your liking. A daunting waft of smoke and metal haunts the life out of the air, making it almost hard to breathe. Moonlight descends his hair, a silk ladder, ropes of dark strands rolling over his shoulders.

Stuck in a limbo with no escape. Great. “... Anything but the dog food... Skott throws a fit when he doesn't get his daily fix,” you mumble, pushing yourself onto the wall as far as you can, hoping to blend into it.

A smirk on his lips. A phone is suddenly shoved in your face. You groan at the brightness, cutting your vision into a thin strip of magnifying glass as you squint.

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Is this the target?

There's picture of you leaving the house.

Guest_User#1001 replied: Yes! Get'em already!!💥

“Me?” You cannot believe your eyes. “Someone requested a hit on me?”

Guest_User#1001: Teehee

You’ve tried everything to escape. Firstly, you ran around the neighbourhood like a headless chicken, yet his legs easily erased the distance, tormenting your back with his glare.

Attempted bribing with berrypheasant skewers? Failed. Songlotus cake? Nope. Steamed puffergoat milk? His eyes flicked to it for a moment. Almost. 

And throughout everything, all you heard was an onslaught of hmphs and grunts rolling boulders over you, crushing your dignity in mocking. Save for the one instance he muttered his name to you, Blade.

Qingque, your fellow co-slacker worker, points a finger behind you, her face puckered. “Who the hell is that?”

“Don’t mind him,” you groan. Surroundings swirl, doused in a liquor poured by the hand of your exhausted mind. “He’s just my assassin.”

“How are you saying that so casually??”

Blade is glued to your side even at your workplace, the Divination Commision. But you are more angry that nobody is mentioning why this very obvious outsider, who isn't even dressed in uniform and is holding a sword, is following you.

“Hey,” You walk up to a random colleague. “Does this guy not look crazy dangerous?” You point behind you.

“Hm?” They blink. “I thought he was your significant other?” ??? Everyone must be tricked by his beauty!

It's worse that Blade only scoffs, giving no closed answer to their question.

At your desk, Blade is judging you when you quickly switch your monitor off your Celestial Jade game when Fu Xuan enters. In the break room, where there's even less people around, he's shaving butter knives with his sword into weapons of mass destruction as you drink your tea.

Most ridiculously, anytime Qingque—or anyone—does as much as tap your shoulder, Blade brandishes his sword at them. Mumbling and grumbling something about, “they're mine, not yours(?)”

“Ohoho~ what a handsome boyfriend you have!"

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

Jiaoqiu, your local coriander supplier—and you, his coriander dumpster—slowly turns around, smiling, as if garbage sludged out of your mouth.

Sensing dread root in your guts, a cold sweat running its tap, you turn to Blade– “HOLY–” You dodge his sword in the nick of time. Blade clicks his tongue, drawing his eyebrows together. Tch. “Did you see that?! He tried to–”

“Ah, how kind of you.” You snap back to Jiaoqiu who is patting his chopping board.

Dumbfounded, you trace the sword that landed squarely on the chopping board, having sliced a once-large-pile of coriander finely. A precision awarded to well-trained chefs who specialise in food and not cutting people up.

“Wow, what a handsome and capable boyfriend. Just like a guardian angel. Ha. Ha.” Jiaoqiu nods in approval.

“You can't even see him.”

“Oh, right.”

You came home with twice the normal haul of coriander, gifted to Blade, who didn't need "such useless sentiments", and stuffed it into your bag. You threw some extra into Skott's dog food.

Moonlight uncovers two figures standing on the rooftops, watching.

“General, is that…” A voice trails off.

“Yes, there's no mistaking him.” Another voice.

“Join me, Yingxing. B◼◼◼◼n◼... she may still live this way. And you... you need to save them too, do you not?”

Yingxing, the name was spat, drawled, torn through teeth, pulverizing the skeletons of each letter, leaving its corpse that would not survive to become a living legend. 

Before his downfall, Yingxing was an exemplary but arrogant blacksmith under Huaiyan, and a member of the legendary High-Cloud Quintet. Drinking partners with D◼◼ ◼e◼◼, sparred with J◼◼◼l◼◼, smiled with B◼◼◼◼n◼, grew with Jing Yuan, who would bust his ears about there being one-thousand-three-hundred-and-fourteen gingko trees to ever live on the Xianzhou Luofu.

And finally, Yingxing was the lover of a free-spirit who walked the path of the Trailblaze. A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again after the devastation of his homeland.

Blade woke up, breathing away the vice around his neck, fingers opening and closing. Reaching for someone who was not there, a phantom. But they were his. They belonged to him. It's all he has, and he won't let go.

You decide to go to an actual fortune teller, explaining all the events until now.

Although they are masked with a hood, obscured in secretive shadows, the candle on the velvet-robed table carves out the frown on their face. “This sounds like a couple's bickering. And I do not want to be treated as a couple's therapist.”

“Why does everyone say that?! He's far removed from being my lover!” You could cough up blood.

“Then what's he doing here?”

“Who?”

Ping!

Mod 'SW_was_here(^_−)☆': Behind you.

Surely not– “AAAH!” you shout, almost having a heart attack. Sure enough, Blade is standing behind you, arms crossed.

“Stop running,” he demands.

“So you can kill me? Nu-uh,” you taunt.

The fortune teller clears their throat. "If you want me to trace your red string, I can do so," they direct the conversation. "Red strings of fate are divined by Yue Lao¹, and are hard to alter as it moulds one's fate."

“So, what does it look like?” You hold up your pinky.

The fortune teller is silent for a moment, rubbing their forefinger against their thumb, testing the unsteady fabric that weaves the air. The both of you are dressed under a skirt of silence until they stop entirely. Tension frays its string, ready to snap.

They share a glance between you and the person looming behind. A long sigh in front of you. A small chuckle behind you. “You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You look at Blade. He looks back. You stare. He turns his face away.

Couples event! Lovebirds get a whopping 50% discount off our menu!

A brilliant idea pops in your head. “Blade, I know we're not on the best terms but– AH?!” You dodge a butter knife. The blade lands by the feet of a young woman, with orange hair tied into a ponytail, who almost collided into you with her tripod.

Blade already knows from the shine in your eyes. “Ridiculous.”

Bring your plus one to our story-telling theatre! Pay the price of one ticket for the value of two!

“How about this one?”

“Absurd.” Blade pulls you away, your feet dragging along. A short, green hair girl had barely missed setting you on fire with her tail.

Buy one-get-one-free steamed puffergoat milk for lovers! Come as two, and leave satisfied as two!

You hand the free cup of steamed puffergoat milk to Blade. "You're a fan of this, huh?"

Hmph. He takes it, face turned away. You think it's the trick of the lanterns, but a dust of red seems to colour Blade's ears.

This will be my breakthrough, Yanqing thought excitedly, General will certainly rely on me more if I catch this sneaky man!

“Boo!”

“AAAH! Y-Yunli?”

Yunli latches onto Yanqing's shoulders, who is hiding behind a wall, observing you and Blade who are sitting at a table outside a restaurant. Blade refills your teacup without you noticing. “Whatchu hiding?”

“Nothing,” Yanqing brushes Yunli off like dust. “Just on a mission.”

Yunli hums, stifling a smile. “Hmm... I'll watch your back then.”

Yanqing nods, straightening his back, and marching towards the table like a soldier. Yunli will be entertained by this for centuries, and will be rolling in her grave thinking about it.

A cough for attention. You slowly look up, meeting a blonde boy in blue clothes.

“Jing Yuan's kid…” A flash of recognition in Blade's eyes. “Did he order you? How bothersome.”

“Of my own accord, I came to arrest you”—Blade stuffs a piece of youtiao in Yanqing's mouth, a spoonful of congee to chase, and a bite of tofu pudding to finish—“Mm, good food.”

“You need to grow taller," Blade says. "Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,” Yanqing says, offended, taking a seat at the table.

“Should I order more?” you ask, confused. Was Blade always good with kids? It's kinda cute.

Behind the wall, Yunli rubs her temple. “Yanqing... were you that hungry to forget your mission?”

“I have to go, Yingxing. The Express is calling my name.”

“Ridiculous. Just stay here, you don't need them. Is there an imperative rule demanding you to board?”

A shake of their head. “Our lives are drastically different,” the voice choked out, “you have a past here with fond memories and companions. You belong in Xianzhou Luofu. But me, I have yet to lay my home.”

He scoffs. “You mean to say that you do not love me as much as you thought?”

“I love you most to search you out before anyone else. And I have loved you too much by entering your world when I shouldn't, knowing that this would happen.”

“Why are you leaving only now, when I have even fewer years to live? Will you not allow me to spend my last dregs of life with you?” Or does he have to force them himself?

“... I do not want to see you draw your last breath,” an inhale. “You would understand too, if you were also a long-lived species. Having to watch loved ones lose to time again and again, it never gets easier.”

How ridiculous, Blade thought, blinking away sleep as he stands guard outside your house, that he would end up in their exact situation.

Since the visit to the fortune teller, Blade's assassination attempts have been null. A change of heart? How charismatic you are. But then why is he still carrying your bags and listening to your rambles? And why is he swatting away people who get too close to you?

You can't bring yourself to ask him so you keep walking ahead, doing random things with your arms to distract yourself. Isn't this like... having a boyfriend? You slap your face.

Blade watches your back, tracing the flex of your body when you stretch, the snippet of your smile when you turn your head to the side, you looking back to check if he is still here.

Blade rarely demonstrates himself with his face. But if he were to release the tense muscles that he forces to stiffen, you'd realise that he's been holding back a smile all along.

He watches you for a bit longer, letting the script unwind past. The future is cast in stone, but dripping water can penetrate the rock with enough time.²

...

...

... Click, click.

Heels click down a corridor, purple hair tousled over her shoulder. She stops in front of double doors. Darkness throws its hunter's net, trapping, a natural selection in place to filter in only those who live to survive.

“Hmm, I see,” the woman echoes. “Yes, in Xianzhou currently.”

“Change of plans? Bladie would... Blade stays true to his name—there's no one he can't cut down.”

“I understand.” A small chuckle. “My regards, dearest Elio.”

“You again?” Blade grumbles, offering Yanqing no more than a short glance. He lends a levitating hand just behind your back as you walk up the hill. “What? Hungry?”

Yanqing points at Blade. “I'm here to arrest you!”

“For what?” you ask, looking back. You notice something quickly retracts, but everything looks pretty normal. Perhaps it was just a bug flying.

Yanqing throws his hands in the air. “He's an assassin!”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” You suddenly have a hard time looking at Blade. In your defense, he's been pretty nice lately. But catching him staring at you? You'll have to get used to that.

Just behind a tree, two people huddle together, cautiously sneaking glances.

“Firefly, why is he smiling like that behind their back? What's with that disgustingly sweet look??”

“I have no idea Silverwolf... isn't that what lovers do?”

Silverwolf tilts her head, tapping absentmindedly on her phone. “Blade... I haven't seen him like that.” She observes the smile peeking on Blade's face, hiding from sight as he stands behind you. As always. “We're supposed to help him with this mission as per Kafka's command, but…”

Firefly, with her gaze, draws along Silverwolf's line of vision, studying. “He must be happy here,” she says. “Oh, I'll miss his driving…”

“Who's a good boy~” you coo, scratching a stray puppy's head. The puppy closes its eyes, tongue wagging.

Blade crouches near you, watching you shower the puppy with affection, completely forgetting him. The dog looks at him, tilting its head. Hmph. “Annoying.”

“Why is that your first word of the day?!”

You see a sliver of a smile as Blade casts his gaze down.

Picking the puppy up, you hand it to Blade who awkwardly holds it in the air. You laugh. “Wouldn't it be so cute if this puppy stayed like this forever?” you say to no one in particular.

Blade pauses, hair slightly dancing in the wind, crested in golden gingko leaves. He finally says, “An eternity is of the same weave as an abyss, to never see an end. Yet, if all lived forever...”

Blade looks up at the gingko canopy, wistful, stern. But he looks at you with a soft crease in his eyes, lifted ever so slightly by the cheeks.

"I... would not mind it."

You hum, studying his face. Trying to distract the heat caressing your cheeks by thinking a million thoughts.

“But this puppy has so much to explore,” you say, taking the puppy into your lap. “Being stuck in one place for so long, the steps we take will always loop back.” You brush the gingko leaves off Blade's hair.

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

A beat in his chest. Savoured as it ripples through his body. Alive. Blade closes his eyes, feeling the breeze run its hand through his hair, the pulse in your fingers. You were alive too. Opens his eyes.

“... Ridiculous,” he simply replies.

Shuhu's flesh. It writhed, beating its last breath in Yingxing's hand. His other hand drew along a cold arm. One he has touched many times when it was warmer. A mortal separated from their immortal lover, a retelling of Hou Yi and Chang'e.³

A love he was willing to risk for, because he could not afford to lose again, he renewed that vow. A burst of pain, a golden disease invading. A bloodlust riveted.

I hope that in your next life, you will never wish for freedom again.

May fate bind us with its thread and suffocate us until we have to share our breaths through parted mouths, mistake whose hands are whose, and dig our fingers into each other's backs, melting into flesh, draw blood to malnourish the body of weight, just to fit into each other's arms. Because even if I torment your dreams, crush your future, or tangle your tongue until you can't speak, at least, that way, you always have to think of me. 

Hate eventually bleeds into obsession, and obsession will consume your every thought until you can't move. In that case, detest with all your heart, blacken me in your mind, and bite my hand when I try to feed; it will only make me love you more.

Stay where I can see you, or be chained to me forcefully... I will not lose you again.

...

...

...

When he awoke again, his body was pierced many times over.

"Remember the feeling of death," Her hair skimmed the moon's surface, an arc of the sword that glimmered silver, as if cycling through the lunar phases in a swift strike, and bloodred eyes. "And bring it to them."

Wounds mended and healed, tightened and closed. His new body is a seamster that weaves the fabric of his skin to fit his flesh again, a blacksmith that hammers out the steel and reforges it into a blade once more.

He does not come back to life—the joy of creation long forgotten in the face of death that has strangled everything else—a dead man walking. Laid his body on a bed of red spider lilies, the petals weeping on his clothes—or, was it a pool of blood? Doesn't matter.

The mara worked strangely on him—memories seldom passed by in his mind. Yet, this person crossed that boundary, weaved inside his head.

A face drifted along the tides of his mind, drowning and resurfacing every few seconds as he tried to fish the fragments. The scales shine, a bright smile, the tails flap, his hand weaved into another, the fins slither, laughter. Like carps, persevering past the strong waves of his mara.

He must've loved them so strongly to the point that it brewed hatred. A desire to blind them with his affection, and then mangle their limbs, so that the last thing they would ever feel was his selfish love.

Blade took you home as you sleeped in his carry, eyeing Skott intensely and scaring the man to make way. He draped you on your bed. It was too long since he's seen you so peaceful and... Blade stopped his fingers from feathering the rim of your lips.

Why couldn't he keep you here? Be chained to him, just stay here, you don't need anyone else. Crush you until you rely on him. This is where you're meant to be, right next to him.

His head lowered for a moment before he got up.

His words to Skott: "You're dead the moment you disturb them," Blade warned as he approached the cowering man. "Or, should I dispose of you here after what you put them through?"

Skott never returned home since, presumably ran away.

Blade went out and walked along Central Starskiff Haven. A simple thing caught his eye—a bobbin of blue string. And then—

"May I have a word with you?" Blade recognised that voice: Jing Yuan

...

...

...

“It was the same then, and the same now; you are fixated on the past.”

Blade studies Jing Yuan. Studies the carp swimming in the water, looking down. “Just skip to what you want to say.” Blade had little patience for the man who knew about the price of sin, yet said nothing.

Jing Yuan shakes his head, leaning on the railing of the bridge, looking up. He will savour every second of this meeting, one he had waited too long for. “Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile—for a reason—we are not meant to last forever. Even for us long–lived species, the mara is a cap screwed tightly to stop us, poised to spiral our memories into oblivion.”

Blade could almost laugh. This person before him, who used to reach only his shoulders, now was teaching him.

“Do you think it was only you who suffered all this time?” Jing Yuan frowns, frustrated. His shoulders shake. “We were separated. But the bonds we created last beyond a meeting. And I have have kept our companions in my heart. This way, they are always with me.”

“Fate may be predestined, but when the heart is moved, it becomes unforgettable.⁴”

Fate does not pity. Cruel yet kind at times, it does not know of its own recklessness, which must be why fate executes its job so easily. It feels no empathy.

But, it's exactly this reason why fate can never touch human connections. It does not understand the heart, therefore, what humans use it for are ultimately decisions that they make themselves. Fate is all-seeing, but not all-knowing.

“Hah…” Blade exhales. Words he didn't want from Jing Yuan, but needed to hear.

“And—” Jing Yuan winces, clutching his forehead. His eyes are watery, having recalled something yet lost it at the same time. A small silence. “Apologies, they say... that you are nearing the brink of death when memories start flashing at you, for the last time. Must be true... haha.”

Blade is wordless, fingers digging into palm. “Don't spout nonsense. Save your breath.”

Jing Yuan laughs, knowing that this is Blade's way of caring, the same as he used to, before saying, “I see all five of us. Underneath the gingko trees, where we met…”

Gingko trees... those words stood out. Jing Yuan would always... “Gingko trees... how many are there?” Blade asks, looking at Jing Yuan.

Jing Yuan's eyes are open in surprise, unexpecting the question. His mouth moves but does not mutter, on the edge of words, before saying with that lazy grin of his, “How would I know the answer to that?”

Blade walks along the rainy path to your home. Along the gingko trees, past the river flowing carps along, to a door that is open, ready to welcome. But before he could, he felt a presence. “Kafka.”

“Bladie, Elio's a tad bit disappointed,” Kafka steps out of the shadows, holding a black umbrella. “You were talking to General Jing Yuan. But what does he know?”

Blade lets the rain devour her voice. Kafka walks towards him, still wearing her smile. It is often that Blade cannot read her concealed expression. She fondles with something behind her back.

Blade's limbs are speared in place. Spirit Whisper. He steps back—

“Listen to me. I will say the words you truly want to hear.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from? They won't live long this time, so make the most of it. Take it all. This is your part of the script.”

Crush. Chain. Claim. The words inject its needle into Blade, piercing skin. Relieving. It feels like a cure, a medicine, his treatment. This is what he needs. The mara suddenly blooms its branches, ripping into his head, splintering it with an agonising pain. Clouds gather its dark feathers, pluming over Xianzhou with its wing-like embrace.

“Sorry, Bladie. I must do this. They were supposed to be dead long ago,” she says these final words, passing him with a smile, sad eyes, before turning into nothing more than another percussive instrument in the orchestra of rain.

...

...

...

Ping! ...

User 'Blade' is typing...

User 'Blade' is typing...

...

User 'Blade': You are mine.

You woke up to darkness placing its blindfold over you, sat on cold ground. Sweat trickles down your neck that bobs up and down, trying to breathe—to live. A musk repeating smoke and metal.

Taking another deep breath, you try to stand up but are immediately dissuaded by the nagging on your wrist, chained. The blindfold slips from the jolt.

“You're trying to escape me again.”

Suddenly, you are pulled into an embrace from behind, your back pressed on a chest. He is cold against your engulfed body—ice against fire. Designed by nature to sabotage one another, destined never to find each other. Caused by a sinner's karmic debt. “Blade, y-your arms...”

Small gingko branches perforate through his skin, the leaves thrumming to his slow breath. Red pearls roll down his arms, as if unhitched from a broken necklace. You notice the deep lacerations that dig past even further than where the branches grew from, as if someone has been trying to gouge them out.

Blade watches you, muttering as little words as possible to save breath, “It'll heal.”

You trace his arm with your finger. The wounds are caught in ebb and flow, between the stricken trauma and the regenerative tissues. Gradually, the bloody gap bridges his flesh together, an infrastructure built and painted over with his skin. “What...?” Your hand retracts but Blade catches it.

“Leaving me again?”

You search for his face, aching. Dark eye circles hung low, Blade is exhausted and just as afraid of what he's become. His hands glides along your arms, landing just above the back of your hands, before lacing his fingers into the crooks. He didn't want to hurt you, and you feel that fragility through the press of his lips on your neck.

“I won't,” you reassure, letting his weight stamp onto you.

His shoulders squeeze in, appearing smaller. As if trying to merge with you so that he may live inside. Know you inside out. Claim. His hand tighten around yours, subduing his desires.

Blade shakes his head, lips dragged down by the weight of the torrent he is trying to suppress inside him. He traces Kafka's words. “I abhor you…”

“You're lying... because eventually you will.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This is the price I pay,” he mutters, “I have willed life into an impossible existence, and I must witness how that very life ends.”

The law of equivalent exchange; to obtain what you so desire, an equal value must be given in return. And life and death always follow each other as equals.

Words disintegrate, melting on the tongue, as fragile as snow falling on skin. You replay the frown on Blade's face, his twitching eyebrows. An animation, flicking its pages in your mind, and your heart leaves it to loop over, and over. You lower your head, hesitant. You didn't understand what he was saying. But it feels like he's talking to you.

He is stood at the edge of the cliff, and you are the last push. But you didn't want him to let go yet.

“Then, it's our fault for choosing each other. Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart. And if we don't have much time, then let's use every second of it.”

Blade hears Jing Yuan's words in them. He also hears someone else's words. A final flash of another memory. And then, he repeats your voice that said the words. It comforts him, resting the pain to sleep. The gingko leaves fall, ripened. Maybe it were these words he was waiting for all along—to let him know that he can belong next to you after his sin.

There is no use dwelling on the past. He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey; he who blames himself is halfway there; he who blames no one has arrived.⁵ When moments can be spent with you now, the present becomes hopeful.

Kafka's shackles fade. Spring will come again.

Blade unchains the cuff on your wrist, soothing the red marks with his kisses. He fetches something from his pockets—a bobbin of blue string. Softly takes your pinky, intertwined with his, and he begins wrapping the thread around them. You watch him quietly, heart pounding. The knot is tied.

“Let me keep you for a little longer,” Blade whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I'll let you go after this, I promise.” To sever the string.

You mould into him, and the seamster sewed your stitch into the embroidery, the blacksmith modelled the sword in your shape.

Guest_User#1001: I am expecting good results.

Blade sighed, throwing his phone on the bed. That name they gave, it looked familiar. Nevertheless, he had a job to do.

Guest_User#1002 has requested: Hello, may I ask to book a session for me and my insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance?

... What a coincidence. Blade scoffed.

Tracing your location, he found your home. The first time he saw you, he recognised instantly, and memories began flashing.

“Why are you running from me?”

“Why do you have a sword?!”

“Jiaoqiu, you're facing the wrong way—we're behind you.”

“You really are sure he's not your boyfriend?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tch. What's Jing Yuan doing with you?”

“Excuse you,”

“If I stayed in the same spot with that insufferable-loser-of-a-fiance, and never messaged you, well, we wouldn't have met, right?”

“Life is finite, grains of sand that slip through fingers. Fragile - for a reason—we are not meant to last forever.”

“Your desires, why have you been suppressing their demands? Who are you trying to protect them from?”

“I will lock you here for eternity. I will never let you go.”

No, these weren't memories. This was a slither of the future that Elio granted him. The original ending that was supposed to fit Blade.

But Blade had changed the end. He had changed fate with you, by his own choice.

...

Ping!

User 'Blade': In front of you.

You look up from your phone, grinning. Blade smiles at you, walking over. You trace the bandage around his arms, where the mara sprouted. "How is it?"

"I'm fine," he replies, "this will not dull my mastery with a sword. Come." He links his pinky with yours. There is no time to waste.

Aurum Alley blossoms with gingko leaves, vessels for auspicious happiness. Qingque waves at you, having reserved a large table by a restaurant. The signature aroma of Jiaoqiu's spices whet the appetite, Moze swiping the dishes away from Feixiao, Jing Yuan leaning his chin on his palm, dozing, and Yanqing and Yunli playing around Blade. Silverwolf and Firefly said their goodbyes.

“Good thing Master Fu Xuan is in a meeting,” Qingque fills your teacup. “And if she questions me, I can just use General Jing Yua–”

"Qingque," Anyone can recognise that voice. “Jing Yuan, you too... and,” She looks at you. You gulp. “You level one-hundred slacker-offs!”

“Lady Fu~ come join us.” Jing Yuan pats a seat.

However, Fu Xuan, with scrunched eyebrows, suddenly grabs your wrist, scruntinising the pinky. As if it's missing something. She looks at Blade, unsettled. “Your string... it's been…” Blade looks at her, quiet. Fu Xuan then shakes her head, giving a sad smile. “So that's your choice. I'm not a couple's therapist, but... I wish good luck to the both of you.”

You are left confused, but Fu Xuan would glare at you if you pushed it further. “He'll tell you one day,” she said.

After the chaotic meal, you all parted ways. A sea of stars reflect the fishes worming under the translucent skin of the river bank, a mirror. Thoughts race in your head, thinking of everything that happened. You rub your pinky.

The red string of fate, a myth that weaves couples together. But you never needed it anyways. Not a red one, at least.

“Blade,” you begin, turning around.

“You were protecting me all along, weren't you?”

Blade looks at you, lending his ears.

“That time when you dragged me away from the orange-haired lady who was about to collide into me, same with the girl with the fiery tail that could've killed me.

When we were climbing that hill with Yanqing, I swear you had your hand behind me. It was to catch my fall, wasn't it?

And that time where you were injured—the mara, it's called—it felt like you were holding yourself back.”

Blade smirks. “You've been watching me?”

You smile. “You're like my guardian angel.”

In those few words, Blade witnesses the last flash of memories.

He remembered. And Blade knew then, that Yingxing was trying to move on. Traces of him were left—Yingxing's intense desires—but ultimately, everything was Blade's choice.

The past would stop haunting him. He is Blade, just as you are you. Not photographed to a fleeting memory, but living in a present time. Left with a body to fill with new memories, he now looks to the future.

A dull ache tugs in his chest, a pain so suffocating. His arms wrap around you.

Watching you laugh, cry, be angry, to keep you safe so that you can grow old, and he will love every second of you. Until you draw that last breath, and then preserved in his mind, so you may live on forever this way—immortal in his memories, until the mara grants him finality.

https://redstringservices.xzhou/homepage/requests/999

This site is closed for an indefinite period. Go away.

User 'Lacking_in_everything_but_muscles_General' has requested: Does anyone know where the person managing the website went? They haven't offered me a duel yet :( ↳ User 'HealerLadyIsTheBest1' replied: Good riddance! ↳ User 'Spice-and-Rice-is-Life!xox' replied: Feixiao, if you don't stop adding coriander to my broth, you will end up in the next meal I cook!!! User 'v1ral_m4ster_of_lif3-stre@ms': Oooh, a haunted website!! Let's make a video about this at Fyxestroll Garden, stat! @UserHuohuo @UserSushang @UserHanya @UserXueyi @UserYukong @UserLingsha @UserFugue @UserSunday @GalacticBaseballer111 @UserDanHeng ↳ UserDanHeng#1003 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserLingsha#1004 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserYukong#1005 replied: Why am I here? ↳ UserHanya#1007 replied: Why am I here...? (also asking on Xueyi's behalf) ↳ UserFugue#1008 replied: Haha, why not~ ↳ User 'GalacticBaseballer111' replied: Thanks for the invite! Still dead tho^^ ↳ UserSunday#1009 replied: ...? User 'grandpa!stop_doting_on_me' has requested: Uncle Blaaade, let's plaaaay huhu (╯︵╰,) ↳ User 'My_life_is_for_wielding_swords' replied: General Jing Yuan invited you to play starchess with us, wanna join? Invite March 7th too, we need to keep up her training! Guest_User#1001 left a review: WORST HITMAN EVEEEEER!!! YOU THREATENED ME AND TOOK MY PARTNEEER!!! User 'celstialjademylove10': Wait, that guy really was an assassin??? [Deleted by commenter] ↳ UserFuXuan#1010 replied: Qingque, slacking off are we? ↳ User 'celstialjademylove10' replied: ohshizzles [Deleted by commenter] Mod 'Let'sSetOurHeartsAblaze!': Farewell Blade, until we meet again~ Kafka (and me- and SW here😎) gives you two her regards! Mod 'SW#GU2055#addme': welp the story ends here ig. gg guys lets meet in the next story🤫

“Yingxing, do you know the myth of Yue Lao?”

“An old man who sits under the moon, tying the red string of fate for couples who are meant to find each other,” A melodic laugh, intertwining their pinky with his, wrapped in string. “But... even if Yue Lao did not destine for us to be together, as different as we are... a mortal and... a long-lived.” The knot tightened. A sad but knowing look. They continue,

“I believe it is much more powerful that we have loved each other of our own will, without the gods, deities, or aeons. A freedom and choice, entirely derived from our hearts. We love each other for who we are, not because it was meant to be. A love as natural as the carps along the river flow.”

“And with all the autonomy we had, untouched by divine power, I am so happy that you came back to me every time. As if tied by our very own red string—or, perhaps, our blue string.”

“Bound not by fate, but by choice, and by heart.”

... ౨ৎ

footnotes

Yue Lao - god of marriage and love in Chinese mythology, who appears to people as a old man under the moon. Carries the "red string of fate" to tie the destinies of couples who are meant to be together.

“Dripping water can penetrate the stone.” - proverb about how perseverance can help overcome obstacles.

Chang'e and Huo Yi - in Chinese mythology, Chang'e drank the immortality elixir, taken from her husband, the legendary archer Hou Yi. As a result, Chang'e was separated from her mortal lover, residing on the moon for eternity with her Jade Rabbit.

“Fate is predestined, but when the heart is moved, it’s unforgettable.” - proverb about how true connections that last beyond a fated meeting are what make the encounter unforgettable.

“He who blames others has a long way to go on his journey. He who blames himself is halfway there. He who blames no one has arrived.” - proverb about accepting the situation and moving past.

a/n: what if i wrote a time-skip epilogue so everyone can cry. what then. since blade is an older character, he has a lot of development. i tried my best to incorporate most of his story ^^ i teared up thinking abt the high cloud quintet, they were such a cute family before tragedy striked :( they were raising jing yuan, but jing yuan being the only one to have made it out made me even sadder :(( ALSO i apologise to any skott fans huhu. husband!skott but you're having an affair w blade forbidden love WATCH ME IM IM IMGON DO ITT!!!!1! im out of words now. i will now attempt to type the alphabet with my eyes closed. abcdefhjidkl,mnpqweribcxyd (i suck) thanks for reading!!🎀

[ultravi0lence14]

My Girl

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.2k | angst, fluff

summary: some people just don’t know when to quit, and when dean notices how uncomfortable you are with a local cop on a case, he can’t seem to hold in his anger.

there was no way this hunt could get any worse.

you, sam, and dean had only been in this small, connecticut town for two days, and everything had already gone to shit. the lead witness was no help, there was barely any evidence, and to top it all off, you had to see him.

max mcmillan, the person you wished to never see again. you knew him in high school, being a friend of a friend and running into him on rare occasions.

max seemed like a nice guy, his only flaw was he always harboured a weird liking towards you. it wasn’t something you’d deem stalkerish, just an observation that you had made over the years.

just your luck he was here now, working as one of the police officers on the case. you had politely smiled at him when you first saw him, but the second he realized who you were it was almost as though that keen liking he had towards you crawled back up.

he would always be around you. getting you coffee, trying to start up a conversation, and being way too close for your comfort. you could tell that dean had noticed this, and he seemed as though he was one more shoulder pat away from blowing a fuse.

dean could tell you were uncomfortable. he knew what you looked like when that chill of unease ran up your spine, and he knew how you were about physical touch.

you were never good with people touching you, even as a young child. if someone even grazed your hand you would unravel into a fit of tears, needing to be alone for the next couple of hours to calm yourself down.

no hugs, handshakes, hand holding, anything. you didn’t have a healthy relationship with physical affection as a child, for both of your parents were not really the perfect candidates for mom and dad of the year. but you lived with it, and dealt with your no physical contact for many years to come.

that was until dean winchester came into your life.

you had met the infamous winchesters when bobby asked them to assist you on a ghoul case two years back, and since then, you three have been inseparable.

from the start you liked dean. he had this charm and whit about him that just reeled you in, wanting to know more. didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous on top of it.

the boys almost instantly noticed your distaste for any physical touch. it was sam who saw you flinch when he went to go hug you after a tough case. since then, they have respected your wishes and didn’t bring up the matter unless you did first.

as you and dean got closer, he would constantly catch you reaching out but reeling back at the last minute. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he waited until you two officially started dating, making sure you were comfortable with him touching you.

you were, one hundred percent. dean winchester was the only person you’d allow to hug, touch, or even hold your hand. you were slowly warming up to sam, but any other person was completely off limits, and if dean noticed he’d be on their ass in a second.

so as he stood in this police precinct, a watchful eye on max as he leaned over your shoulder, practically breathing down your neck and making you tense immediately, dean wanted to beat into his face until he learned what personal space and boundaries were.

sam had noticed the man’s unwanted attention on you, but he also noticed the fury written on his brothers face and he wanted to defuse the situation as calmly as possible.

while they stood side by side, pretending to listen to some cop ramble on about a traffic cam that wasn’t even in importance to the case, sam angled his head and whispered over to dean. “if you stare at him any longer i think you might explode his head.”

the older winchester just huffed, redirecting his eyes so he can look at sam. “well if he doesn’t back up than i might just have to.” the words came out like a bullet coming out of a gun; followed by dean straining his head so he could keep an eye on your facial expressions.

“she can handle herself, dean. you don’t need to worry about her all the time.” sam was right. you were perfectly capable in handling yourself and dean knew that. he just had a nagging feeling that this guy wasn’t going to back off so easily.

you were on the verge of turning and clocking max in the face. his breath on your skin was making you uncomfortable and he was way too close for comfort.

“the suspect couldn’t have gone far since- Y/N?” you hadn’t even realized you had zoned out, too busy being focused on calming your breathing and not breaking down.

“i’m sorry,” you spoke, taking a step back from max and turning towards the door. “i’ll be back, i just need to get some fresh air.” you didn’t even wait for a response as you sprinted towards the glass double doors, pushing them open and heavily breathing in the cool air.

leaning against the solid brick of the station, you tried to stop a panic attack from coming on. slowing your breathing, calming your thoughts, and taking in the fresh air was helping you get back on track. that was until you heard his nagging voice again.

“there you are Y/N. i think you should come back inside, i think i’ve found something.” max had come and stood so close to you it was like he was trying to mesh the two of you together. you couldn’t take it anymore, taking a giant step back and reeling your hands out in front of you.

“max, i am so sorry but can you please give me some personal space?” he seemed taken aback by your words, halting in all movement he was planning on doing. you realized you could’ve been nicer but this had been going on for two days and you were sick and tired of acting like you were fine.

doing the complete opposite of what you had asked, max started to step closer to you. “what’s wrong, Y/N? did i do something?” it was like what you were saying was going in one ear and out the other, and you couldn’t grasp what the boy wasn’t picking up on

“max, please.” you breathed out, hoping he would understand and leave you alone. but he just came closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards his chest.

the air in your lungs escaped. you couldn’t breath and it was almost as if your skin was on fire. you tried to pull away but his grip was far too tight, fighting your attempt to get away from his touch. “cmon, Y/N let’s just go inside. work this out together.” he was dragging you now, attempting to get you to the precinct doors. but the fight you were putting up was straining any further moves he had planned.

feebly trying to push at his chest with your other hand, you felt tears sting your eyes, escaping and falling down your cheeks. “let me go max, please.” you could feel your brain shutting down, the notion of max not listening to a single word you were saying finally setting in.

you could feel your resolve start to slip when suddenly, you heard a faint shout in the distance. a loud “hey!” was heard over your racing heart before max was spun around and knocked to the ground.

dean was holding max up by his collar, fist landing repeated blows on his face. you could see sam and a couple other officers run outside as dean held max up like a rag doll, the latter not even being able to land any punches with how tight dean was holding him.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” dean’s words came out gritted through his teeth, sharp like a knife piercing max’s skin.

you didn’t know what to do. dean was in such a frenzy that trying to pull him away would just be stupid, and you were honestly enjoying watching max get his ass beat.

“dean!” sam yelled, finally reaching his brother and trying to pull him off the struggling man. the older winchester just wouldn’t budge, and it took sam and three other cops to fully detach him from max’s limp body.

you watched as sam attempted to pull dean’s arms behind him, the latter fighting his brother with such intense fervour you truly thought he was going to break free and go for another couple of punches on max’s face.

when sam was able to slightly calm dean down, the older winchester walked to max and got right in his face, staring at the other man with the deadliest look you have possibly ever seen from him. “if you even step one foot towards my girl, i’ll fucking break your legs. got it?” all max could do was slightly nod, slipping in and out of consciousness

the other police officers had gone inside to get medical attention and had now come out to see if max had sustained any proper injuries from dean’s beating. before any of them could even utter a word, dean had walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand, following sam as the younger winchester high tailed it to the impala.

the car ride back to the motel was silent, filled with a tense atmosphere that had you picking at your nails. dean was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, the wounds on his bloodied knuckles were widening more greatly. sam was just staring ahead, not saying a word. if you knew the boy though, you knew that inside he was stewing with a multitude of emotions.

when the impala stopped in front of the motel, you got out and went directly to the room. you noticed sam stop dean, not letting him walk into the room yet. the look on his face was passive, and you knew that sam had an earful waiting for dean to hear. so you just closed the door, listening to sam scold dean through the window.

all you could do was sit on your bed and stare silently at the wall. this is exactly what you would do as a kid, sit in silence trying to calm yourself down. you didn’t even hear the roar of the impala as sam drove off or dean come into the room. you only noticed when a soft, gentle hand was placed on your cheek, making you turn to look dean in the eyes.

“hey, baby, you okay?” all you could do was nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. dean just nodded, slightly brushing some hair out of your eyes as he smiled. “sam just went to grab some dinner. doesn’t look like we’ll be going back to the station tonight.” his sad attempt at a joke made you giggle slightly, warranting an even bigger smile on deans face.

“there she is.” he guided your head so it laid on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug. the feeling of your arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing him tightly had dean feeling calm, at ease after all that just happened.

what snapped you out of your comfort was the scene of deans knuckles; stained with blood and marred with cut skin and angry red wounds. you pulled back and studied his hand, allowing yourself to truly see what he’d done.

“oh dean,” you muttered. bringing his hand closer to your face to see how truly bad the cuts were. “we need to clean this up.”

with a reassuring squeeze of your hand, dean got off the bed and stood in front of you. watching as your eyes worriedly followed his frame, waiting to see what he was going to do.

cupping your face once more, dean smiled as he spoke. “don’t worry your pretty little head, sunshine. i’ll patch myself up. i will be right back.” with that he kissed your cheek and made his way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him as you moved to get into comfier clothes.

by the time dean was done, you were already in bed. half asleep as you were tired from how fast your brain was moving today. you listened as dean got out of his fbi suit, resorting to just sleeping in his boxers as he moved to get in bed next to you.

your body moved so you could put your head onto dean’s chest, finding comfort in how close the two of you were. his one hand moved to play with your hair as his other went to grab your own hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and lightly brushing them across your skin.

the last thing you remember before falling into a deep sleep was the feeling of dean’s hand in your hair and his soft voice soothing all your worries from earlier.

“i’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

[chamisulgrape]

watch me, watch me party on you 𖤐 [p.sh] pt.2

Months later, it's Milan Fashion Week, and you get to be the one watching Sunghoon this time.

ᢉ𐭩 part one | part two

pairing → sunghoon x afab reader word count → 7.1k tags → fashion industry setting, model au, nyfw, rivalry, yearningyearningyearning, models in love, established relationship smut tags → pwp, closet sex, barebacking (unprotected sex), sunghoon munches on reader (he’s a huge munch), lots of spit and wetness, use of petnames aka baby/darling, they're nasty and in love, dirty talk/minor degradation, face-grabbing, floor sex at one point…, reader is still in her heels while they canoodle :3 warnings → not proofread! a/n  → jungwon makes an appearance! pt.2 is finally posted, thank u to everyone who is supporting and loving them as much as i love them

♪ hands on your waist liquor is all that we taste your freckles lead the way i trace your constellations

minors dni.

Sunghoon has always had a certain something about him. 

It’s one of the many reasons you fell for him during your younger years. Sunghoon glows, radiates, even. He’s always had a captivating aura. Sunghoon attracts, and even you: stubborn and strong-willed, were weak to Sunghoon’s many charms. 

You aren't surprised that you’re walking the same path, both being models for your respective fashion brands, because it just makes sense for Sunghoon to be in this line of work. Sunghoon is a natural, he belongs in the spotlight. Sunghoon is made for the runway, for the stage. 

Sunghoon will always be famous, and you’re just another victim to the gold and temptation that is Sunghoon Park. Moth to a flame, as Sunghoon likes to call it. You would scoff and brush him off, speaking about how Sunghoon is no better, but you can’t help but admit that Sunghoon is right. You believe that there was no possible way you could ever escape from the likes of him.

Sunghoon is a magnet, and you will always be weak to his pull.

“_____! Look over here!”

You aren't a stranger to the blinding lights and the yells of your name, reporters trying to get your attention for a seven second video and the cameras in your face. Over the years you’ve learned how to handle them with ease. Perfect smile, candid poses, practiced responses. 

A mic outstretched a few inches away from you, a reporter quickly spits out her question before you can walk too far and she misses her opening. 

“How are you feeling today?”

As you always do, you greet the camera with the sight of your perfected media-smile. “I’m doing great.”

The reporter smiles, satisfied. “What are you looking forward to this afternoon?”

“Ah,” you grin, “I hear Sunghoon Park is opening the show today, I’m very excited to see how he performs.”

“He’s always the star of the show, isn’t he?” There’s a glint of interest in the reporter's eyes now. The world is well aware of the feud between XO and PARADOXX, and there’s never a day that goes by that netizens don’t have something to say about their rivalry.

The reporter opens her mouth to ask another question, but your security is already ushering you forward. She grins like she knows something you don’t. “Thank you for your time.”

You nod, sending a wave to the camera behind her as you move on. You make it a few steps before another reporter is trying to grab your attention.

“_____!” 

You turn to see Jungwon Yang, a beloved journalist and writer for a small up-and-coming magazine. You’re not a stranger to Jungwon Yang, either. You’re well-versed in the world of media, and you’ve heard of, as well as read a handful of Jungwon’s works in ENHA’s magazines and online articles.

“Good afternoon, Jungwon,” your smile feels more real this time, easy and less forced than it usually is. 

Jungwon’s smile is bright in response. “We’re all hoping to see you at tonight’s afterparty, will you be there?”

“Of course,” You nod, hand slipping into the pocket of your pants to rest comfortably. You lean in an inch, voice dropping to a faux whisper. “I’ve heard many things about the party's PARADOXX hosts.”

Jungwon lets out a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “I hope we get a chance to connect tonight, then, I’ve been very interested in speaking with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Jungwon.”

“Would you mind taking a few pictures for our cameras?” Jungwon gestures to the side, and you nod again.

“It’d be my pleasure.” You say, stepping aside for Jungwon’s colleagues. 

The time flies by quickly, a blur of flashing lights and endless mini interviews. You’ve taken a few pictures for some big brands like Vogue and Elle, and before you know it, you’re seated along the front row waiting for PARADOXX’s show to start.

You’re buzzing with the anticipation of seeing PARADOXX’s new line. You know it’s going to be something worth the suspense since Heeseung, Jake, and Jay were adamant on keeping it under wraps this time. Aside from anticipation, your stomach is churning with the thought of seeing Sunghoon again. Sunghoon. Just the syllables of his name already has your heart thumping against your chest and your fingers twitching with the memory of Sunghoon’s body and how his skin feels underneath your fingertips. 

The moment the show starts, you feel it in your bones. The atmosphere becomes heavy with excitement and suspense, and the crowd settles down into silence, everybody holding their breath as low music plays overhead. You recognize the songs that Heeseung, Jake, and Jay constantly play in their studio, claiming it adds to their ambiance and vibes, and it’s so them that you have to suppress a smile.

You forget to breathe as the lights dim. It has you sitting a little straighter in your seat and leaning forward the slightest, your mind running on one recurring thought: Sunghoon. 

When Sunghoon steps out, all the air you were holding in your lungs is forced out of you, because Sunghoon is absolutely stunning. The trio have outdone themselves this time, and you might even battle that this outshines XO’s last New York Fashion Week show. Sunghoon is gorgeous underneath the fluorescent lighting, his skin glowing underneath the see-through fabric he’s wearing. 

The ombre of yellow to red tucked into the flowy pants he has on compliments his skin so well that you almost want to thank your friends for dressing Sunghoon in this specific outfit because God, you breathe out, Sunghoon is beautiful. 

Your mouth goes dry as you watch Sunghoon, so powerful, so charismatic and wordlessly charming that you wish you could get down on your knees and worship him for the man that he is—a God. Impure thoughts aside, you hold so much respect for Sunghoon. Sunghoon has been walking for a shorter time than you have, yet Sunghoon walks effortlessly, exuding so much grace and confidence that it seems like he’s been doing this for years more than you. 

You’re proud as you watch Sunghoon walk, and you find yourself gripping your phone a little tighter as the distance between them lessens. Sunghoon spots you, of course he does, and your hands tremble in your lap at the feeling of Sunghoon’s heavy gaze on you. It’s quick, Sunghoon glancing away faster than you can blink, but you catch the ghost of a smirk on his lips and it’s enough for you to know that Sunghoon saw you, that he’s thinking of you as much as you are him.

You release a breath as Sunghoon struts past you, and you can’t help the way you lick your dry lips with the anticipation of seeing Sunghoon later tonight.

They’ll have their moment when the time comes, and you will sit patiently, for the payoff is always very well worth the wait. 

“Did you see Sunghoon?” Sunoo breathes out once you’re at your hotel. “He’s amazing.”

Riki nods in agreement, ushering you into the suite so he can prepare you for your next outfit. “Of course he is, the people love him.”

“I see why you had a crush on him in high school now, he’s gorgeous,” Sunoo teases, lips pulling upwards, “we should’ve snagged him when we had the chance.”

“I—” You splutter. “Hey!”

“Sunoo, you know she gets embarrassed when you mention that,” Riki says, but he’s huffing out a laugh as he walks to the other side of the room. 

“It was so cute, though. You were always so smitten with Sunghoon,” Sunoo sighs. “Young love.”

You pout. “It was not cute, it was embarrassing.”

“Sunoo!” Riki calls out. “Come help me!”

Sunoo gives you another teasing look before going to help Riki with whatever it is that he needs. You huff, pulling out your phone from your pocket and opening Twitter. There’s already hundreds of pictures of you at the event, and you spend some time watching some of the clips that have been posted. You scroll through some hashtags aimlessly, before coming across pictures of Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon’s official Twitter account has already been updated with posts of him in his outfit from earlier today, as well as some behind the scene pictures taken before the event. You, embarrassingly enough, save a few of the pictures to your camera roll. You resist the urge to let out a squeak at a specific picture of Sunghoon, instead opting to close out of the app for the sake of your sanity. You’ll remember to text Sunghoon later and bring up these pictures and to ask for more.

When you throw your phone onto the bed, Sunoo and Riki have come back to lay an outfit next to you. It’s all black, that much you can tell, and the two seem excited to undress you and get you fitted as soon as possible.

“It’s perfect,” Sunoo says, and Riki hums. “You’re going to look amazing once we finish with your hair.”

You don't know why Sunoo and Riki opt for always styling you themselves without the help of a makeup or hair stylist, but you trust their vision and the two always argue that you're solely theirs to work on, and that it’s more personal this way. You are the face of their brand after all.

“Not that you don’t look amazing already,” Riki adds, “now strip.”

You obliged to Riki’s request, stripping down until you’re left in your undergarments. Sunoo and Riki give you a quick once-over, turning to each other and nodding. Sunoo helps you put your arms through the underside of the dress before tapping your ass lightly. 

“Sunghoon is so going to want a piece of you after this,” Sunoo says, and you make a squeaking noise.

“What the fuck, Sunoo!” You cry, covering yourself with your arms. “Am I just a piece of meat to you?”

“No! You’re a hot piece of meat,” Sunoo nods, satisfied once Riki finishes helping you through the dress. “You look good.”

“So good,” Riki finishes. The pair motion for you to put on your heels. Once you finish, Riki pulls out a small bottle of shimmering lotion to lather onto your chest. “Hold this open.”

You let them do their thing quietly, standing in silence until they finish. You get lost in your head for a bit, thinking of how you and Sunghoon have been fooling around for months in private, since the New York show, and how your friends are unaware about the whole situation. 

You’ve agreed to keep things under wraps, since the two of you don’t want it getting out to the media (and because you both agree that it’s a little more exciting this way), so you’ve been keeping it a secret. It’s fun to dance around your friends; hushed kisses in fitting rooms and closets when you’re at each other’s stores, silent looks that say more than you let on, quiet touches as you pass by one another. 

The two of you don’t feel a need to share this with the world, nor do they feel the pressure to put a label on what you have. You like knowing that Sunghoon is yours no matter your relationship, just you and Sunghoon. You’re Sunghoon’s, Sunghoon is yours. You’re only each other’s, and you like it this way. 

“_____?” Sunoo interrupts your thoughts. Dazed, you hum. “Head into the bathroom, we’re going to get started on your hair now.”

You can’t wait to see Sunghoon later tonight, and your mouth already waters with the expectancy of what’s to come. 

The afterparty tonight is hosted at a restaurant you’d never been to, given this is your first time in Milan. 

The only word to describe it is elegant. The lighting is dim and golden, and it’s bright enough that you can make out enough of a face of the people you’re talking to, and at least see his plate. Everything about today is so PARADOXXX, through and through. There’s glasses of champagne in front of every guest at every table, and Sunoo and Riki have already finished theirs and yours, minutes after you’re seated. 

You, Sunoo and Riki are seated at the same table as Heeseung, Jake, and Jay, and Sunghoon is still nowhere in sight. You imagine that Sunghoon is a busy man, having many guests to converse with tonight, so you don’t worry too much about him. 

You can’t help the way your mind wanders off as the five conversate at the table, but you pick up bits of their conversation; something about a new brand, studio, new location. When you come to, it’s by a nudge in your side.

“_____? Heeseung, Jake, and Jay were talking about their plans for the future. They're planning to open up a store here, what do you think?” Sunoo asks, reaching over to steal Jake’s glass from in front of him and replacing it with his empty one. Jake scowls at him, but makes no move to steal it back.

“Really?” You say, in awe. Jay, Jake and Heeseung have matching proud smiles on their faces. “That’s amazing, guys.”

“I know,” Heeseung says, puffing out his chest in pride. Jake scoffs with a small smile on his face, hitting Heeseung in the chest. Jake continues: “We’re thinking that everything will be finalized sometime later this year.”

“That’s great, seriously,” You smile, “don’t forget us when you throw that opening party.”

Jay rolls his eyes, “How could we ever? Those two,” he motions to Sunoo and Riki, “would never let us. Tried getting rid of them back in high school—the worst mistake of our lives—they’re like leeches.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Sunoo and Riki were always so enamored with the trio, following them around the world. You feel warm just thinking about it; how they’ve all been friends for years. You feel lucky to have found them, to have found your family. There’s nobody else you’d rather be working and spending time with. 

“Well, Heeseung, Jay and I have some interviews to do, but we’ll be back before the food is served.” Jake grins at them, already pulling Heeseung and Jay out of their chairs by the lapels on his blazer. “Look awake, dude.”

“I am!” Heeseung cries out as he follows Jake and Jay. 

The three of them watch as the trio get whisked away. Riki sighs, “I kinda… love it here.”

“Love what? Being in Milan, or being wherever they are?” Sunoo asks, curious.

“Both,” Riki decides after a second, and you turn to him at the same time that Sunoo leans in to pinch to his cheek.

“Me too,” Sunoo says, leaning so his arm rests on the arm of Riki’s chair. “Me too.”

You take this as your cue to leave, only after Sunoo and Riki make you pose for a few pictures, and you get up to wander around the venue. You make it to a more secluded area, when you’re stopped by someone whispering your name. You turn to see Jungwon Yang, dressed in a different suit than he was wearing earlier that day. 

“Hey! I thought it was you.”

You motion for Jungwon to take a seat on the couch next to you. “Hello, Jungwon.”

“I hope your day has been well, you look incredible.” Jungwon gives you a warm smile, and you return it. “If you’re not too busy, I’d like to talk to you. I wasn’t joking when I said that I’d like to write an article about you in our magazine.”

“Of course, Jungwon. There’s nothing I’d like more than to talk with you, article or not.” You reply, and Jungwon lets out a small laugh.

“You know, your reputation precedes you,” Jungwon says, tilting his head in curiosity. 

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you huff, still smiling. “What do they say?”

“Lots of things, you know how it is,” Jungwon just shrugs, not answering your question. “What matters more is the impression you leave on people, and the impression I have of you is a wonderful one.”

You purse your lips, features melting into something soft, nice. “I’m glad.”

“You’re interesting,” Jungwon’s eyes never stray from your, “I’m looking forward to writing that article.” Jungwon reaches into his suit jacket to pull out a little card. “Please contact me so we can set up a time and date to meet and talk. My colleagues would love to meet you as well.”

“Of course,” you say, again. “I’d love to. You know, you’re quite interesting yourself.”

“Am I?” Jungwon grins. “I hope that I’m interesting in the best possible way.”

“You are, your name is quite big in the world. You’re making a change, Jungwon.”

“Well,” Jungwon diverts his gaze to his lap, where he splays out his hands in front of him. Shy, a little bashful and honest, you perceive. “That’s the goal.”

“A good goal to have, there’s not many people like you,” you say after a moment. “Who wants to make a change for the better. Your writing says a lot about you already.”

“I’m glad,” Jungwon repeats your words from earlier, looking into your eyes again. “There’s not many people like you either.” “Good, I like to be different.” You say, and Jungwon laughs again.

You enjoy Jungwon’s company. Jungwon is like a breath of fresh air in this industry. There’s not many people you can talk to freely without the feeling of pressure and camouflage, but Jungwon seems like somebody you can trust and confide in. You trust Jungwon and his writing, and you have a feeling that you’ll be great friends in the future. Sunoo and Riki would love Jungwon, you think.

“You should meet my friends as well,” you break the silence. “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

Jungwon’s eyes light up at this. “Really? I’ve been wanting to talk to Sunoo and Riki for a while now, do you think they’re free at the moment?”

“Mm,” you purse your lips in thought. “I’m sure they can make time for you.”

Jungwon beams. “Great! Sorry to cut our conversation short, but contact me, I’ll keep in touch.”

You only nod, and Jungwon takes this as his cue to leave and most likely search out Sunoo and Riki. You watch him go with a smile, collecting your thoughts for a moment before standing up and stretching your limbs. You take a second to breathe, looking around at your surroundings. The place Jake, Jay and Heeseung chose is beautifully decorated, and you keep in mind to ask Sunoo and Riki to snap a few photos of you in different areas before the night is over.

You’re admiring one of the many paintings on the wall when you feel a light touch on your back.

“Tired already?” You turn to see Sunghoon, in the flesh.

“Sunghoon,” you breathe out. 

“_____,” Sunghoon echoes back. You can feel Sunghoon’s hand resting at the small of your back, touch burning through the fabric, heating your whole body. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” You smile, eyes roaming all over Sunghoon’s face. His makeup is different than it was at the show, now more soft and natural. “You were amazing today.”

“Thank you, you were too,” Sunghoon says, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Me?” You question.

“Yes, you, you looked very pretty today.”

You hum. “Of course I did.”

“Of course you did,” Sunghoon shakes his head with a little laugh. “I’ve missed you.” “You said that already, Hoon,” your grin is soft, and you can see the soft look on your face mirrored in Sunghoon’s. “You saw me a couple weeks ago.”

“Weeks too many, I need to see you every day in order to function properly,” Sunghoon’s gaze rakes from your face to your feet, and back to your eyes. “Missed you so much.”

You can’t help the way your body practically melts at this. “You’re not good for my heart, Sunghoon.”

“You aren’t good for mine either,” Sunghoon licks over his lips, and your eyes follow the movement. “Sunoo and Riki have you all covered up today, don’t they?”

You let out a laugh, raising your arms to showcase the blazer you’re wearing over your dress. “Last time you thought I was wearing too little, now you think I’m wearing too much?”

“Well,” Sunghoon hums, “you have a body that deserves to be appreciated. How will I appreciate it when you’re all covered up like this, hm?”

“If you must know,” you lean in to press your lips to Sunghoon’s ear. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

Sunghoon lets out a sound akin to a muffled groan, fingers pressing harder against your back. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you don't have to look to know that it’s Sunoo and Riki telling you to come back to the table. 

“Worship me later, hm?” You step back to put some space between you two. “I’ll see you at the table, Sunghoon Park.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widens into a smile, showcasing his perfect teeth, the teeth you want to be pressed against your lips and skin later. “As you wish.”

Your eyes drop to Sunghoon’s lips before you force yourself to raise them to meet Sunghoon’s gaze that hasn’t strayed from you once. 

You take another step back. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“I hope you do.” Sunghoon winks, letting you out of his grasp. 

As much as you love Jake, Jay and Heeseung, you feel a little bad to admit that you’re feeling quite… over the party now. The food is great and you’re still having a great time, but it’s just too hard to focus on anything but Sunghoon, the man sitting right across from you.

Sunghoon has been nothing but distracting since you sat down at the table, god, Sunghoon is so bad for your health. Sunghoon, who has been running the tip of his shoe up and down your calf. Sunghoon, who has just grazed his shoe high enough to fit right between your thighs, pressing delicately against your crotch. 

Now, you know that Sunoo and Riki would scream bloody murder if they saw anything, especially a footprint, on the clothes you’re wearing, but the feeling of Sunghoon’s shoe pressed against your already damp core drowns out all the thoughts of explaining this to the two later. There’s nothing more that you want to do than grind against the bottom of Sunghoon’s shoe, just for the smallest bit of friction, but you really don't want the next fire on the internet to be about you sporting a damp spot and a shoe print in public. 

So, you let Sunghoon have his fun, try your hardest not to get wet, and keep a nonchalant smile on your face as you talk with the others. You take sips of your champagne, not enough to feel a buzz since your alcohol tolerance is weak and you don't want to lose control of yourself, not without Sunghoon here to take control for you.  

You can tell that Sunghoon is enjoying this, if the smirk he keeps sending your way is enough of a sign. Sunghoon hasn’t removed his shoe for the past hour, just resting between your legs, pushing harder sometimes and then lightening the pressure. Sunghoon shows no other indications of, well, anything, but you know when Sunghoon is bluffing; know him well enough to know when Sunghoon wants something, when he wants more, when he wants you.

Sunghoon hasn’t touched any of his champagne or food all night, other than picking at the appetizers and eating a few bites of his meal, opting to just mess with you under the table the whole night. You can tell that Sunghoon doesn’t have much of an appetite for anything but you.

Sunghoon shifts suddenly, removing his shoe from you completely and sending you a secretive smile when the ghost of a frown creeps onto your features. 

“I’m going to use the washroom,” Sunghoon says, glancing at you one last time before pushing his chair back so he can stand. “Anyone want to join me?”

“No thanks,” Heeseung grimaces. “Nobody wants to see that again.”

Sunghoon grins widely, a teasing smirk on his lips. “We went to the restroom together once. Nice to know that you were that intimidated.”

“Just go!” Heeseung groans, dropping his fork.

The night is still young and you know that Jay, Jake and Heeseung have no intention of letting the party end so soon, but you don't think that they’ll have a problem with you slipping away for a few minutes, or hours.

You wait a few minutes before following Sunghoon.

“Actually, I need to go too,” you stand, pretending to stumble a little. “Had a little too much to drink.”

You already made sure that everyone is drunk enough not to notice that you’ve been switching the cups around so your cup appears empty. “I’ll be back,” a lie. “Don’t wait up.” The rest barely acknowledge you, waving you off with their hands. You smile, satisfied, before making your way to where the restrooms are. You find the restrooms easily, secluded in an area towards the back of the restaurant. You knock a few times before you’re tugged away by the wrist.

“Sunghoon? Where—” 

Sunghoon tugs you along silently, a few feet away from the bathroom to a closet. When Sunghoon closes and locks the door behind him, the space is filled with darkness. The only sliver of light filtering through is from the door sill, even with the glow, it’s not enough to see anything. You can’t make out any of Sunghoon’s features, or see him at all, but you can hear the quiet breaths Sunghoon is letting out.

“Hoon?” You reach out blindly. You can hear Sunghoon’s footsteps as he takes a few steps closer.

“I’m here,” Sunghoon says, just as your fingers come in contact with his shirt. The fabric is soft underneath your fingertips, and you grip the material lightly before trailing your fingers down to find Sunghoon’s waistband, then moving back up just to feel him, to know that Sunghoon is really there. “Is this okay? Is it too dark?”

“No, no,” you breathe out, hands resting on Sunghoon’s chest. You indulge yourself, sweeping your hands up to rest around Sunghoon’s shoulders, satisfied once your fingers are in the hair at Sunghoon’s nape. “It’s perfect.”

Sunghoon ghosts his fingers down your hands to your arms down to your waist, holding you tightly. “You’re perfect.”

“You can’t even see me, Hoon,” you laugh lightly, tugging Sunghoon forward a few inches. You can feel Sunghoon’s breath on your nose now. “How do you know?”

“You’re all I’ve been looking at all night,” Sunghoon says. You feel his hand leave your waist and a beat later, a fingertip trailing from your temple to your jaw, then a featherlight touch from your forehead to your nose. “I can see you just perfectly.”

“Creep,” you whisper, but your heart is already turning to a puddle of goo in your chest, melting at the fondness dripping from Sunghoon’s fingertips. “I missed you so badly, you don’t even know.”

Sunghoon snorts, the sound maximized in the small space of the closet. “You love me.”

“I’d love you more if you said you missed me back, hm?” You pull him closer, lips brushing against Sunghoon’s.

“You already know how much I miss you,” you can feel Sunghoon’s words against your lips, and you crave so badly to press your lips to Sunghoon’s and swallow each and every one of them down. “I miss you more every day that I don’t see you.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?” You smile, and you can feel Sunghoon mirroring it.

“It only makes me weaker,” Sunghoon brushes his nose against yours, and you can feel every bit of love through the gesture. “You make me weak.”

“Good, someone needs to be there to knock your pride down a notch,” you tease, and Sunghoon nips at your lips.

“I’ve missed this so much,” Sunghoon confesses for the millionth time that night. “Feeling you, talking to you, just—you.”

“Such nice words,” you hum, “how about you show me rather than telling me? I’ve been waiting for you to take this off of me the whole night.”

Sunghoon, like he just remembered that you’re completely bare under your blazer and dress, immediately takes the chance to start removing your coat. You shiver a little when Sunghoon finishes his ministrations, the air hitting your bare arms. 

Sunghoon’s touch is teasing as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly unzipping it like you have all the time in the world. The sound of fabric hitting the floor makes your breath and stomach tense when Sunghoon runs his fingers along the planes of your now bare chest and down your stomach. 

“You feel so—unreal,” Sunghoon breathes out, as if he’s in awe. 

You laugh, stomach tensing against Sunghoon’s hand as you does. “You’re touching me, aren’t you? I think I’m pretty real.”

Sunghoon sighs through his nose and you feel it on your upper lip. “You’re still how I remember.”

“And how is that?” You ask, fingers still tangled in Sunghoon’s hair. “Mm,” Sunghoon pretends to think. “Snarky, cold, challenging.”

“Snarky?” You scoff. “I’m anything but snarky.”

“Sure, baby,” Sunghoon shakes his head a little before closing the gap between them, stealing the last bit of air right from your lungs, breathing it into his own. 

You melt into it, pressing forward so your chests are flush together. You shudder at the contact, your nipples rubbing against Sunghoon’s silky shirt. Sunghoon licks across the seam of your lips, biting down ever so lightly in the way he knows you like. You open your mouth to give him access, Sunghoon immediately licking across your teeth and the roof of your mouth, before sucking at your tongue.

Sunghoon’s hand roam from your waist to your bare chest to rest on your hips, rubbing shapes against the skin there. You sigh into Sunghoon’s mouth, reveling in the feeling of having Sunghoon’s hands all over you again. Sunghoon pulls back suddenly, the sounds of their lips disconnecting bouncing off the walls of the closet.

“Why—” you whine, pressing against Sunghoon harder. “Why?”

Sunghoon lets out a chuckle, squeezing your waist. “Nothing, just missed hearing you talk. Missed your voice.”

“I’ll be more vocal once you’re inside of me,” you purr, pressing your lips to what you hope is Sunghoon’s jaw, but is probably his cheek. You reach down between you to grope at Sunghoon’s bulge, preening once you feel that Sunghoon is as affected by this as you are. “Miss you inside of me more.”

You feels Sunghoon’s cock twitch at that, and arousal pools at your belly, shocks sending to the tips of your toes. Sunghoon lets out a breath, pressing a kiss to your cheek before moving down to press wet kisses to your neck. Sunghoon knows not to leave marks, so you tilt your head to bare your neck to him, humming in content as Sunghoon licks at your skin and collarbones. 

You squirm in Sunghoon’s hold once Sunghoon’s mouth reaches your chest, lips closing around a nipple and laving his tongue over it, sucking lightly. You let out a sigh, pressing your chest against Sunghoon’s mouth and pushing his head down with your hands. You tremble when Sunghoon sucks harder, tongue circling around the bud. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” you breath out, mind already feeling fuzzy. The fact that you can’t see Sunghoon or see where his hands are going to go next is so hot to you. 

Sunghoon pulls back with a pop. “You’re so pretty.”

You whine, pushing Sunghoon’s head back down. “More—more.”

“More?” Sunghoon hums, amused, before going back down to suck at your other nipple, fingertips brushing the abused one. He rubs a finger over it, pressing down and making a content sound when you flinch.

Sunghoon sucks one last time before pressing kisses down to your stomach, and you hear Sunghoon’s pants crinkle as Sunghoon gets down on his knees. Your hands slip into Sunghoon’s hair instead, and you run your fingers through the strands until you can find a stable grip. You’re ruining Sunghoon’s hair, you know, but hopefully by the time they leave, everyone will have cleared out. Mostly.

You make a sound when you feel Sunghoon nose at your cunt, tongue laving over it and making you feel weak in the knees. Sunghoon runs his hands up your thighs, the touch leaving goosebumps in it’s wake.

You whine when you feel Sunghoon blowing his breath against you, hissing at the air. Sunghoon hums, the sound akin to a fucking cat, then repeats what he said earlier: “So pretty, baby.”

You can only reply with a shaky moan, nodding like Sunghoon can see you. You let out another moan, louder this time, when Sunghoon licks lightly at your clit, licking up the wetness you know is dripping from you like a faucet. Your voice breaks a little when Sunghoon puts his lips around your clit, and sucks.

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” you gasp out at the sensation, letting out another curse when Sunghoon presses his tongue closer against the bud, sucking at the same time. God, if this feels good, you wonder what it’d feel like if— “Shit.”

Sunghoon does this thing with his tongue, pressing it right under the hood of your clit and grazing his teeth just right against your skin, and you almost come on the spot. Sunghoon lets out an approving groan, the sound sending vibrations to your core, and you moan again.

“So—so good, Hoon, you’re so good,” you sigh softly, and Sunghoon lets out another sound. “Could come like this, just from this.”

Sunghoon pulls away then, and you almost whine at the loss of his mouth. “Just from this? I barely even did anything.”

“Shut up,” you grits out, jaw clenching, “you know what you do to me.”

“Do I?” Is Sunghoon’s reply, and then he’s taking you back into his mouth again, this time trailing a finger to your hole. Sunghoon taps your thigh a few times as he moves his head, then simultaneously presses two fingers into you at the same time he sucks your clit, and fuck, Sunghoon is so hot. 

You resist the urge to grind against him, not wanting to hurt Sunghoon, but Sunghoon is letting out a huff through his nose and pulling off again.

“Fuck my mouth,” Sunghoon says, voice hoarse already, and then he’s diving back down. 

“I don’t—don’t want to come too soon, I’m already so close,” you whimper when Sunghoon crooks his fingers just right, tongue still drawing shapes against your clit while doing so. 

Sunghoon doesn’t show any time of stopping soon, and you give into his temptations and grind against Sunghoon’s mouth, eyes rolling back and mouth dropping open in a silent moan at the feeling of Sunghoon’s mouth, wet and hot, against you. You can’t help the way you grind your hips forward, just testing. Sunghoon doesn’t make a single sound, no choking, nothing, and you lose it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you grind your hips down against Sunghoon’s face faster, chasing your high as you use Sunghoon’s mouth and nose as you please. “You’re so—shit—hot.”

Sunghoon makes an approving noise, moaning as you grind on his face. You let out a shaky moan, feeling the familiar clenching inside of you and around his fingers, and everything is just so much that your hips stutter and lose rhythm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you come. Your thighs shake at the intensity of your orgasm, the remnants of your come now getting lapped up by Sunghoon’s tongue. 

Sunghoon swallows it all, and when he pulls away, he sucks at your clit one last time, then stands to press his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on Sunghoon’s tongue, the last remnants of your come that didn’t get swallowed down being fed back into your mouth as Sunghoon pushes his tongue past your lips. 

You flinch in overstimulation when Sunghoon uses his fingers to rub at your swollen clit once again. 

“You’re so wet, fuck.” Sunghoon’s voice sounds strained. 

You nod, panting against Sunghoon’s lips. “Please, I’m ready.”

“God,” Sunghoon groans into your mouth, fingers dipping past the entrance of your hole and into you with little resistance. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Sunghoon slides another finger in between the two, scissoring his fingers and groaning when your hole stretches with ease. Your body shakes in overstimulation, having already come once, but you want to make Sunghoon feel good, to let Sunghoon use your body like he lets you use his. 

“C’mon, Hoon,” You throw your head back when Sunghoon presses his fingers further. “Fuck—ah—fuck me already.”

Sunghoon adds a fourth finger beside his others and hums. “Wanna take my time, especially when you’re such a good girl for me.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine, pushing down against Sunghoon’s fingers and clenching down on them when they graze a certain spot inside of you. “Fingered myself while thinking of you fucking me like this, I can’t wait anymore.”

Sunghoon lets out a small laugh, but it seems to do the trick because he’s pulling his fingers out of your hole in a quickness, flipping you around to press you against the wall. You vibrate with anticipation when you hears Sunghoon’s zipper being pulled down, then the telltale sound of his pants dropping to his ankles. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp when you feels Sunghoon’s cock, hard and wet, slide between your cheeks. Sunghoon is leaving a trail of wetness against your skin, and your mouth waters just picturing it; Sunghoon’s cock, thick and curved, leaking so prettily for you. God, you wonder if there’s a wet patch at the front of Sunghoon’s pants, and you want so badly to check, to lick the remnants of the precome there, to make Sunghoon’s pants and underwear damp and soaked with your saliva mixed and Sunghoon’s wetness. 

You keen when the head of Sunghoon’s cock grazes your hole, the tip slipping inside before it slips out again. You whine, “Sunghoon, no teasing, I want you too much.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Forgot how needy you are.”

You pout even though Sunghoon can’t see it, but it’s quickly replaced with a moan as Sunghoon pushes into you, all the way to the hilt. You don't have time to think or breathe as Sunghoon is pulling out again, just until his tip barely breaches you, and slams in again.

Your head lolls forward, cheek squished against the cold surface of the wall as Sunghoon fucks his cock into you, balls slapping against your cheeks and the sound echoing off of every corner of the room. You can only let out little sounds as Sunghoon uses you as he pleases.

“God, you feel so good,” Sunghoon breathes against your neck, shuffling forward so he can press his forehead against your shoulder. “So wet and tight.” You clench down at that, and Sunghoon chuckles. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You can only whine, whimpering when you feel a little saliva drip out from the corner of your lips. Sunoo and Riki are going to kill him because you’re ruining your makeup, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Sunghoon is fucking you like this. 

Sunghoon laughs sardonically at your silence. “So fucked out you can’t even speak, hm, baby?”

You whine again, gasping when Sunghoon takes your face into a hand, pressing your cheeks together between his thumb and forefinger. Your face is smushed like this, and you lets out a surprised moan when Sunghoon pulls your head back, forcing you to lean against his chest with his fingers still on your face.

“Wish I could see how you looked right now,” Sunghoon groans out, hips flush against yours. He grinds into you slowly, and you can feel Sunghoon’s cock twitching inside of you as he speaks. “Bet you look even prettier like this, not even being able to think with a cock inside of you.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine out, clenching around Sunghoon sporadically. 

“Oh, so you can speak,” Sunghoon pauses, “guess I’m not doing good enough, then.” And then Sunghoon is lowering you to the floor, moving to brace your hands on the wall then gripping your hips to bend you over, the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor. “Don’t fall, baby.”

You let out choruses of moans that trail off into higher pitched noises as Sunghoon fucks you faster, harder this time. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other are so loud, it’s all you can focus on, and you fear that whoever walks by the closet will know what the both of you are doing, will hear you getting fucked like this, in a closet. The thought of it has you tightening up again, and before you know it, you’re coming a second time. 

Sunghoon lets out a surprised moan, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him. 

“Fuck, you—you’re so,” Sunghoon doesn’t finish his sentence, pressing forward another time to be as deep as he can as he comes. You tremble at the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up, and it only makes you come harder, body shaking as you falls forward, forehead resting against the wall.

Sunghoon presses kisses onto your shoulder and back as he helps you upright, still grinding his cock into you. You whine, clenching weakly around Sunghoon’s cock. Your breaths even out after a few minutes, and you yelp when Sunghoon experimentally thrusts his hips once, twice forward.

“No more, Hoon, I can’t—” you say, breathless again.

Sunghoon kisses your shoulder again, nuzzling his nose against your skin. “Come back to my hotel.”

“Was waiting for you to ask,” you reply, and you feels Sunghoon’s laugh against your skin. 

“Or, maybe I’ll go back to yours,” Sunghoon presses his cheek against your shoulder.

“That’s a first,” you joke, and Sunghoon grinds forward. “Sunghoon!”

“So, yes?” Sunghoon rubs soothing patterns onto your sides.

“When have I ever said no to you?” You say, fondly.

“Never.” Sunghoon concludes.

“Exactly,” you roll your eyes. “Clean me up.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in here…” Sunghoon trails off.

“Sunghoon!”

Your dress is going to be horribly ruined. You don’t know how you’re going to explain the mess to Sunoo and Riki, but when Sunghoon licks the come from your hole and thighs, and cleans your cunt with his tongue, you find that you don't care as much as you should.

XO sunoo and riki's brand PARADOXXX heeseung, jake, and jay's brand

a/n: hope u enjoyed pt.2, thank u for taking the time to read this if u have gotten this far! pls like and reblog or leave any comments or asks for me hehe ♡ my taglist is currently open, pls lmk if you would like to be added to it :3 and pls let me know if u found any mistakes.. did not want to proofread this

masterlist

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

at this point i will fully just be blocking anyone who says they're voting third party idk how to get it into your brains that by voting third party YOU ARE VOTING FOR DONALD TRUMP. if he wins, you're not getting another chance to vote, you're not getting another election, because he WILL become the dictator. he has smart people behind him, horrible people, but people who know what they're doing and know how to manipulate laws and twist them in ways where trump can do whatever he wants.

if you are voting third party, you are taking away our one chance at winning this thing.

kamala harris is a good candidate. she is the most pro-palestinian candidate we are EVER going to get who actually has a shot at winning this thing. she's a black and south-asian woman who understand the struggles that minorities face and does her best to fix them. she is smart, she is pro-abortion, she is literally the most liberal candidate we will EVER HAVE who has a remote chance at winning. she has a positive stance on lgbtq+ rights and worked to make sure the gay and trans panic defense was removed. she protected children and women and people of all kinds who were sexually assaulted. she made it so that children who were SEX TRAFFICKED wouldn't be prosecuted for BEING TRAFFICKED.

she is a good candidate. hell, she's a GREAT candidate. she's leagues better than biden, at this point i honestly don't know what you all are hoping for. we are never going to get the hyper-liberal, massively far left candidate some of you seem to be hoping for. that's just not a possibility: this is politics. you can't appeal to that tiny corner of the population and still hope to win. i wish you could, but that's just now how it works at this moment in time. kamala harris might be the best presidential candidate in the history of the united states.

and even if she wasn't: have you forgotten what 2016-2020 was like?! have you forgotten who we're fighting against?! because donald trump is a nightmare scenario. he is literally the opposite of everything that liberals and far-left people like myself stand for. when bush was running against al gore, the only reason that there was even a supreme court case that appointed bush was because too many people voted third party. you can't do that shit. i wish you could, i wish we had more options, but we just fucking don't.

so, yeah: come november, go out and vote, and when you do, vote for kamala harris. vote for her so we don't lose everything that we as liberals are fighting for, vote for her for those of us who are too young, vote for her for the best-case scenario that the palestinian people will ever have in this current political climate.

please. please, please vote harris. it's the only option atp.

(i will not be doing discourse in the replies or reblogs. don't even try it.)

[jaehaeryshater]

King Maekar and his cupbearer Vaella Targaryen, daughter of Daeron

art by @vazdelart, commissioned by me

“Emme, stop commissioning Vaella art” the crowd begs. “I can’t :(((” I reply while holding out a large wad of money to all my favorite artists.

I’ve been wanting a Vaella art featuring Maekar desperately for the past few months. The reason for this is that Rhaenyra was a cupbearer and in the southern part of Westeros, and especially in King’s Landing, the role of cupbearer is a very prestigious title for a young person to have and is often an indicator of someone being the heir to the throne. While Vaella’s claim was dismissed at the Great Council, I find no reason to believe that as long as Daeron lived, her role as his only child would not have been taken seriously and her education would not have been a priority nor that her prestige as the only child of the heir of the Iron Throne would not have been respected. That’s why I see her as Maekar’s cupbearer versus Duncan the Small, who was around the same age as her. Besides, I just think it’s sweet that Maekar would want to have her around as much as possible and hopefully have some control in her upbringing while Daeron, although I believe based on what we know about it his character that he must have loved Vaella deeply, was often not in a state to be a good father.

This is my second time commissioning Vaz and I love their work, so I would like to take a moment to point out some of the details that were worked in. I think they deserved to be appreciated. I didn’t ask for the pockmarks on Maekar’s face, she thought of it on her own and I’m so glad because I haven’t really seen any Maekar art where he has them, it adds a level of accuracy I think. I was so happy with the idea and how it came out. I wanted Maekar dressed mostly in black, sort of to show how he was a serious/no nonsense person and as a nod to his status as widower (I know we know nothing about him and Dyanna’s relationship but I like to think he never got over it, a lot like Queen Victoria), but also just because of it being his house colors. I think he looks regal but understated. Vaella, however, is all decked out. In my eyes, she loves pink. The excessive and showy fashion is meant to be courtesy of Daeron. I headcanon that he loves her so much but is too scared to get close to her because he thinks he will somehow negatively impact her, but that she adores him. The only way he feels that he can show his love and relieve his guilt is to spoil her with whatever will make her happy. And she loves dresses, he loves dressing her up and seeing her squeal in excitement when they’re fitting her for a new outfit. She does a pink strip in her hair, that’s supposed to be a nod to her mother, Kiera of Tyrosh. When this got posted to Reddit, someone was complaining that people (myself included) keep putting colored strips in characters hair when it’s not canon to their appearance, which I thought was really funny because Vaella has no canon appearance and the pink strip is as canon as her being bald. I just went with the sandy colored hair like Daeron’s because Kiera also doesn’t have a canon hair color. And in Tyrosh, they love to color their hair bright colors, so I thought Vaella would be a prime candidate to have a color strip in her hair.

This is mostly irrelevant but I wanted to yap about what I think Daeron’s intentions were for Vaella and kind of compare that to Aemon the Pale Prince. First off, it’s never stated in Fire and Blood that Aemon intended on Rhaenys being his heir, so it’s unlikely that Blood and Fire and will say anything about Daeron picking an heir, especially since we can infer that Daeron is a much less politically savvy person than Aemon. That said, Aemon is married to his wife Jocelyn for many many years and Rhaenys is their only child. He never tries to acquire a new wife (although I will say that I think people overestimate how easy/common it was in real history and in Westeros history to just set aside a wife, especially one you already have a child with. Henry VIII is not the standard) and never issues any complaints about Rhaenys. Jaehaerys only settles the issue about Baelon being next in line after Aemon dies, which I like to think is because if Aemon was alive he would oppose that and simply undo that once he became King. I think Daeron is similar in his love for his daughter and lack of concern about having a son. Although we have no information on it so it’s just a guess, I don’t think his love for Kiera was remotely to the caliber of Aemon and Jocelyn’s, so I don’t think the idea of having a new wife would bother him as much as it would Aemon. I don’t think Daeron ever wanted to be King nor ever saw that for himself, but I do think he assumed that Vaella would succeed him and that he would have wanted every opportunity in the world for her. I’m not sure the matter of succession was ever brought up by Maekar to Daeron. However, I will say that Daeron is not a very mentally well person and most likely would be easily swayed, so I’m not sure he’d hold up as well as Aemon if people were pressuring him to name a boy heir or to have a son. I think he’d want something for Vaella in his heart, but could be easily convinced that her being Queen would not be good for her. Then when he died (which it’s my headcanon that while he was dying for quite some time, he gave up fighting the disease entirely once he realized that Vaella was old enough to fend for herself, and that she was the only reason he was fighting it in the first place instead of not bothering to get up in the morning, seeing as his dragon dreams left him in such a deep state of depression). It was only when Daeron died that Maekar very quickly made Aerion heir, in fear that a female ruler would could strife. Kiera, I believe, was the one person to speak for Vaella at the Council, just as I imagine that Daenora was the one to speak for Maegor.

I do recommend commissioning anything you want to see even if it’s just for you and you think no one else will like it, because it’s so fun and it feels like you’re a King in the Renaissance and are a patron of the Arra. You can literally see anything you want and you don’t have to use AI slop to do it!!!! In the time of AI, it’s more important than ever to support artists. And I will never stop because it is so rewarding. I recommended @vazdelart in particular because they work really fast and are accommodating and they are really good at drawing old men; I love it. And you may be surprised about how many people will enjoy the art, because this piece got 1400 likes on Twitter. So it’s really fun. I can’t thank the artist enough.