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hottpinkpenguin · 25 days ago

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Until My Bones Have Turned to Leaves

Joe Liebgott (BoB) X Fem!SoldierReader Part 1 of ? WC: 1772 Warnings: cursing, not proofread, canon-divergence A/N: omg it worked!! @redheadspark, TYSM for the BoB request. Also credit to one of my favorite singers, Lukas Nelson, for the title of this fic

First time Joe saw you, he’d laughed. Which earned him a prompt smack across the back of his head from Lip, and a glowering stare from Bull. Apparently Easy men weren’t supposed to laugh at the Experiment, as Joe had publicly dubbed you shortly after your arrival.

“I mean, c’mon guys, don’t fuckin’ sit there and pretend this shit is normal!” he’d insisted. At first, most of the men had agreed with him to some degree. None quite as vocally as him, but still, he saw it in their eyes. They knew it, he knew it too. A woman on the front was unnatural at best. Distracting at worst.

Despite Joe’s best efforts, your presence in Easy Company settled in after a few weeks. The novelty wore off, and you’d shown yourself as more than just “some dame” who’d impressed the Brass. Steely under pressure, a decent marksman (even Shifty agreed), and a fearless courier. You were smaller and faster than most of the men, so Winters often tasked you with running commands back and forth from Command to Easy to the men in their foxholes and back. Joe would never say it out loud, but even he was impressed to see you out there in the bone-biting cold of Bastogne, dodging the Kraut artillery and artfully sprinting from one foxhole to the next. You’d barely been winded and your eyes were shining when you gave him the news: dig in, no reinforcements expected.

Joe lost the few sympathetic ears he’d acquired during your first few weeks with Easy after you’d volunteered to take Malarkey’s place on the night patrol in Haguenau. For reasons that even mystified him, your selfless act made Joe angry. So. Fucking. Angry.

“What are you playing at anyway, Ex?” he snarled in your direction. He’d shortened your moniker Experiment to something smaller and even less descriptive. Although he’d meant it to signify just how little time he had to waste on you, the men thought it sounded an awful lot like a pet-name.

You ignored him and kept cleaning your rifle. You were one of eight preparing to head out for a nighttime patrol across the river to take a prisoner or two from the smattering of Germans still left in Haguenau, lobbing mortars and bullets across the river at a frequency just enough to pester the haggard regiment. The house you were in was one of the few homes on this side of the river still standing, although its interior was covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. The men had cleared off most of the usable surfaces, and were doing routine gear checks and prep for the patrol. Next to you, Bull raised a challenging eyebrow in Joe’s direction and popped the cigar out of his mouth. Unable to smoke on the front lines - “too much light and smoke” Major Winters informed them - Bull had picked up the habit of chewing off the butt ends of cigars. The nicotine made him feistier than Joe cared for, and doggedly protective of you.

“Liebgott, what’re you on about?” Bull’s question sounded skeptical, as if he suspected Joe’s anger had deeper meaning.

“Wasn’t talking to you, Bull,” Joe replied curtly, his eyes boring into the side of your skull. You swiped a few stray hairs out of your eyes and continued to ignore him. Joe felt his blood pressure creep upwards as his temper turned hot.

“Malarkey doesn’t need you stepping in all guardian angel on his behalf.” Joe knew it made your blood boil whenever he pointedly addressed your sex in front of the men. For that reason, he made a point to do it every chance he could. He had his theories about why the others had stopped grumbling about having to share foxholes and K-Rations and morphine with a woman - sex starved, most likely, he told himself - but he wasn’t fooled. No amount of fearlessness, courage, or capability would ever change the fact that you were a woman. You shouldn’t be here. Joe felt that deep in his heart just like he knew his own name. It was a fact that was threaded into the center of his bones.

The new lieutenant, fresh out of West Point with a clean shave and pristine uniform, stepped into the room and gave a few orders. He was one of two who’d actually volunteered for the patrol - you being the other - and he’d gotten it into his head that he was in some way responsible for leading the patrol. Liebgott nodded vaguely in his direction, like most of the others. Lt Jones grumbled something about lack of respect for chain of command but didn’t press the issue further, his eyes settling on you. He regarded you curiously and intently, although without surprise. Clearly one of the other officers had briefed him on your presence. He tracked your movements as you checked the sight on your rifle, wiping the lens clean with a rag until you were satisfied. He lingered in the doorway, his gaze appraising you with the smallest curve on his lips. Your eyes remained trained on the gun in front of you, although Joe had no doubt that you were aware of the extra set of eyes taking in your every move.

“Can we help you, Lieutenant?” Joe wasn’t sure why the words slipped out or why they sounded so much like a challenge. His snappy retort surprised even himself. He caught a few of the men exchanging looks around the room, their eyebrows raised as if to say ‘here we go’. A muffled hush fell over the room as the men waited for Lt. Jones’ reaction.

“Excuse me, soldier?” Lt. Jones settled his dark eyes on Joe, his expression hard but patient. He clearly wasn’t going to settle for an offhanded dismissal from an enlisted man, nor was he going to let Joe rile him up. Joe squirmed, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable and surprised at himself. What the hell was he doing, putting himself in the proverbial crosshairs of a man who outranked him? And over you? He chewed his lip and looked down, hoping the Lieutenant would allow his demur behavior to suffice for an apology and shove off.

“Private Liebgott asked if we could help you, Lieutenant.” If the room was muffled before, it descended into complete silence as your icy words slapped the floor. You’d stopped fussing over your rifle, your eyes trained on Lt. Jones with a spark of challenge. Joe had to forcibly close his mouth to keep it from gaping open in surprise. Were you of all people really stepping into the quagmire alongside him?

“Oh, I heard Private Liebgott quite well,” Lt. Jones replied smartly. Joe had a feeling from the way the Lieutenant said his name that Lt. Jones wouldn’t forget it any time soon. “I was simply surprised to hear a Private addressing one of his superior officers with such a tone of blatant disrespect.”

“And I’m sure Private Liebgott’s question was made out of surprise to see one of his superior officers regarding an enlisted soldier with such a look of blatant lustfulness.”

One single moment of silence lingered after you finished speaking before the room softened with the sound of poorly suppressed laughter. Lt. Jones looked around desperately, as if searching for an ally, his face turning redder by the moment. He spluttered something, looking utterly chastised, before Bull offered him a gracious exit.

“Just apologize to Private Y/L/N, Lieutenant, and be on your way. We were all a little knocked off our feet when she showed up. She’s a sight prettier than the rest of these mucks, that’s for sure.” The men hollered in appreciation and mock offense as Bull stuck a hand out towards Lieutenant Jones like an olive branch. Joe, for his part, was watching you watch the Lieutenant. The sharp edge of your temper was softened by the men’s camaraderie with you, but there was a wariness in your eyes that got sharper as he mumbled a weak apology and skittered out the door, tail between his legs. Your eyes followed him until he was out of eyesight, and even then they stared blankly into the distance. It wasn’t until Bull gently bumped your shoulder that you seemed to fully come back to the room.

“You oughtta be careful there, Wings,” he murmured under his breath. Wings was the nickname some in the company had taken to calling you after seeing you fly through the woods of Bastogne, as they said. Joe for one thought it was ridiculous, and unsurprisingly he made sure everyone knew it. “A lieutenant’s a powerful enemy to make.”

“You don’t need to lecture me on the dangers of refusing a powerful man’s advances, Sergeant.” You ripped the rifle off the table in front of you and slung it over your shoulder with a quick, cold movement. Without looking up at either Bull or Joe standing on either side you like bookends, you left the house, stepping out into the gathering twilight. Joe saw you disappear around the corner of the street, walking in the direction opposite from where Lt. Jones was undoubtedly licking his wounds. There was a hard set to your jaw that he’d never seen before, and a tired expression in your eyes. His feet were moving before he knew what he was doing.

“Leave it, Liebgott.” Bull’s hamburger-bun of a hand grabbed Joe’s shoulder firmly but not unkindly. Joe couldn’t decipher the tone of Bull’s voice, but he thought it sounded a lot like pity. He bristled, shaking off the Staff Sergeant’s paw.

“Where’s she off to?” Joe’s question sounded petulant and nosy.

Bull shook his head. “To cool off, most likely. Patrol’s in a couple of hours. She’ll be needin’ coffee before then.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Joe felt like Bull was talking to him as if he were in on some secret when it came to you, although he couldn’t hazard a guess as to what that might be. He fixed Bull with a flat stare. That seemed to make the blonde Sergeant chuckle.

“Don’t worry, Joe. I’ll take care of her for you.”

Unable to make heads or tails of Bull’s obvious misread of Joe’s contempt for you, he stormed off to a quiet corner of the house and threw himself down on an armchair. As the sun set over the frozen horizon outside Haguenau, Joe gave himself over to a dark mood as he waited with the rest of Easy for news on the night patrol…

**more to come!! stay tuned and let me know if you want to be tagged

#band of brothers imagine #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott imagine

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twisted-wonderland-memories · 8 months ago

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A wish you want?

Azul Ashengrotto x Stoic/Apathy! Reader (not Yuu) Genre: Fluff

Summary: You got yourself into a contract, and yet the contract doesn't seem that interesting and yet you just casually agreed to it to find a purpose...even if the contract is broken.

"With this contract, I will grant you the wish to have a purpose~ So What will you say?"

"..."

And this is how you got yourself into a strange situation, being part of the monstro lounge but something is very odd about you.

You are a normal person who is in the dorm of Ignihyde, Blending into the shadows despite having decently good grades, normal stable life, and a good amount of magic (almost similar to Riddle in a way) but there is one catch.

Apathy is the main reason why you show much of your own pride to others, because of that a few people purposely mistaken you for a weak mage even tho you are mainly the opposite, but that is right besides the point.

For some odd reason (before Azul's overblot) you seem to notice Azul making a contract with the others. Getting exam answers perfect to a tee just to win at the first place, if failed to meet the terms they are now employees till they graduate. At first it seem to be a desent thing to like and accept but for others they would complain cause not only they would be forced to obey but their own unique magic is taken away.

But to you.... this is unique.

One day you decided to make a deal with Azul.

"So you want a purpose?"

"Yes... A purpose to find meaning."

This is something that Azul is not prepared, he has the wish solutions prepared and all that being made and ready but your own wish is unique and is hard to fulfill it. But Azul is never back down from a challenge and got a bit too confident to help you with your wish. Thus the both of you did sign the contract, but even after the events of Azul’s overblot you are still here in the Monstro Lounge as a staff member cleaning the place up.

And Azul does mentally admits that your wish is pretty hard to achieve, he can achieve others’s wishes easily but not this.

If he needs to grant your wish in a effective way…

“(y/n)-san, pardon the intrusion. May I had a work with you on your wish?”

“Hm? What is it, Azul?”

“I can understand the term of your wish, but I do have one question. What type of purpose or desire do you prfer?”

When Azul as you that question, you paused yourself. Even he too didn’t know the meaning of your wish, “I….” Staring at your own hands you shrug as Azul stares at you, he too was wondering himself, “Still no answer?” He asked as you nod sadly, “I understand, thank you for answering my question, (y/n)-san.” And yet he did not treat you badly, unlike before he did not grant your wish but now it would seem that answering your wish is his newest challenge.

Ever since that awkward question, Azul decided to have an idea. Gathering up the courage he decided to search up your conditions and evenly asked the Leech twins to keep an eye on you, but once the research has been set. Azul soon understands why you don’t hold a grudge against him when he did put you on a pressure in the Monstro Lounge, with the new found knowledge in mind Azul has an idea.

If you can’t find a purpose, why don’t he hang out with you to find your purpose with him.

Surely it can work so easily well.

But as a result, Azul did not realize one thing…

Thanks to the hangouts for almost everyday, he grew closer to you to the point that he realize he is in love with you slowly. You are a good listening to him especially when you also accepted him just the way he is, you help him out in Floyd’s place everytime his mood is bad, and most of all your support is what got him to enjoy your presence more. Because of that he loves you and your company, it gives him less stress and reassurance that things will go well, and yet he is scared that you won’t understand his feelings.

And yet he was not aware that he got successful in fulfilling your wish.

One day, you were about to head back to your dorm and call in for the night till Azul decided to come see you and invites you over to dinner with him here for free, it was delicious and yet you feel a bit guilty knowing that he just did it to make you happy. But as a result….

“Azul….”

“Yes?”

“Can you give me your hand?”

Azul hesitated for a second till he obliges, gently taking his hand and removing the gloves you give him a kiss on the hand which caused him to blush. Once you pull away you smiled at him.

“Thank you Azul. For fulfilling my wish.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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wc-confessions · 2 months ago

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I’ll do a full breakdown of why the news surrounding the Tencent animation disappoints me.

Disclaimer: while you can have criticisms about Tencent as they seem to be a controversial company, don’t use it as an excuse to be sinophobic. If your thoughts ever go to “well of course a Chinese production would suck” or something of that ilk, please stop right there. The main issues are corporate greed and laziness, not China. Got it? Time to carry on.

Firstly, it strikes me as more of a proof of concept than an actual announcement. It’s the most minor problem IMO, so I’ll let them off the hook. They probably wanted to make sure people knew it was being worked on.

Secondly, AI. Warrior Cats is an art-centric community; it’s no wonder fans are pissed. I don’t like AI art, you - a (probable) Warriors fan reading this - likely don’t like AI art, your father doesn’t like AI art, everyone here doesn’t like AI art. Which means I’m going to argue on a more technical side. Looking at the confirmed and possible AI art, I have a question. What do they achieve? They don’t fit with the style of the hand-drawn illustrations, they resemble galaxy cats in space, while that Yellowfang generation is just a bootleg of the reprinted Rising Storm cover. Their existence in the presentation is a waste of time and resources (literally, AI prompts use up absurd amounts of water). I’d rather them show exclusively human art because you can tell they’re going in a direction, even if it’s uninteresting.

Speaking of the presumably human art, oh boy. To start off mildly positive, I’ll say a majority of the illustrations are decent. You get some character designs and scene concepts. They’re clearly playing with art style. I don’t find them particularly ugly, so… good job! I suppose! Now, to address the elephant in the room: anthro cats. For the love of StarClan, I’m begging on my knees, don’t make these cats anthro in the final product. It would fundamentally break the entire series. They call humans “twolegs” for a reason! Go work on the Redwall movie if you want anthro animals.

Finally, my last concern. As of writing, there hasn’t been confirmation of the Tencent animation being a movie, TV show, or other. My opinion on a TV show is “it’s fine.” Warrior Cats is a long series, making it suitable that it gets a longer adaptation. Meanwhile, my hope for a Warriors movie is as big as a single grain of sand.

Warrior Cats is borderline unadaptable when it comes to shorter-form media unless you want to dish out a pretty penny. We can already see this with the Prophecies Begin graphic novel; it’s transparent HarperCollins or whoever is in charge of these things didn’t want to pay for six TPB comics, so they had to hastily mash two books together in one. If the Tencent animation is a movie, I’m afraid some concepts already have signs of this. Multiple pieces have what can be assumed to be Fireheart and Tigerclaw fighting. I’m sorry, but that happens later in the books. Are they going to scramble the narrative worse than the graphic novel adaptation? Are we seriously going to wait 20+ years for an official animation, watch at least one high-profile fan project get canned, only for it to be about as accurate as evil snipers in an action movie? If it’s not a movie, ignore what I’ve said. If it is a movie, sigh.

TL;DR: Should’ve made the Little Dragon Studios series official instead of forcing them to cancel, guys.

#confession #anonymous

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magicshopaholic · 9 months ago

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Moving On (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: BTS performs in Amsterdam and Namjoon invites you to the afterparty.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, smut

Word count: 8.2K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, angst, sex, nudity, making out, fingering, cumming, arguing,

A/N: Takes place a little over a month after Final Destination.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "where does the good go" by tegan and sara

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

Joon [13:45] Did you get the email from Big Hit?

Kaya [13:50] Yes

Joon [13:51] The number at the end is their London office. They’ve been briefed already and have additional security available for all European locations.

Kaya [13:54] Okay

There’s a break in the chat here. Kaya stares at the time stamp, trying to picture him scrambling to find something else to say.

Joon [14:15] The company managed to track down the account that uploaded the video. Account has been taken down and they’ve sued for invasion of privacy.

Kaya [14:20] Okay

Joon [14:22] They’ve also offered to add damages to the suit, in case we want that. Do you?

Kaya [14:25] Not really

Joon [14:26] Okay then

Another break. Kaya scans the time stamps again, even though she’s memorised it by now. She remembers the three dots indicating him typing, seeing them appear and disappear over and over again.

Joon [14:40] How are you?

Kaya [14:45] Fine

Joon [14:46] How‘s work?

Kaya [14:48] Fine

Joon [14:50] Kaya I’m trying

Kaya [14:51] Class starting, got to go

He hadn’t responded and she hadn’t expected him to. Four days post break-up hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to let go of her anger but now, four weeks in, it’s only been replaced with an equal amount of sadness and longing.

Every conversation has been exactly this terse and abrupt, the last one being a week ago. It had appeared when she’d been teaching an elective class and it had taken every ounce of her will to not check it until the class ended. As it turned out, she couldn’t even think of a decent response to it.

“How can he possibly think of asking me this?” Kaya mutters, earphones in as she walks home. It’s dusk, a gorgeous time of the day, but she holds no appreciation for it right now.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if he didn’t ask?” Dilara asks reasonably. She’s in her car by the sound of it, a low hum audible of whichever fancy car of hers she’s decided to take out today.

Kaya swallows, pondering this. It might be, but it doesn’t address the problem she’s too embarrassed to voice out loud: it should be harder for him to ask. The thought that he might not be taking this break-up as hard as she is kills something inside of her, as if she’d misunderstood everything in the last three years.

Her strategy to save herself from hearing the truth had been to distance herself from everyone, including Yoongi, who had texted her out of the blue one day to ask her if she was okay (she hadn’t responded); Seokjin, who seemed to skirt the topic altogether and sounded as though he was speaking to someone very sick; and especially Dilara, who Kaya knew would be the only one with the capacity to ask insightful questions that she herself was too afraid to.

“It’s just… strange,” is all she can manage. “He hopped on a flight, shot a few emails, came over and broke up with me and then went right back to his schedule, all in one day. And now he's inviting me to a party?"

“After-party, so it won’t be, like… crazy,” Dilara clarifies. “And the concert before it.”

“I’m definitely not going to his concert.”

“Of course not,” she agrees breezily. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But the party… I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want you to be strangers.”

Kaya slows down as she approaches the river. She’s taken the long route home today - anything to prolong the commute before another night in her tainted apartment with memories on every surface.

“I don’t know if I want to see him.” I don’t know if I can. “He wants to see me, though, apparently,” she states after a moment.

Dilara doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I mean -“ She begins before pausing, then trying again. “I’m sure it’s going to be torture for him to see you. But even that’s better than not seeing you.”

Kaya doesn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath; she exhales as slowly as possible so as to not make a sound, both at Dilara’s words as well as her answering the unasked question.

She doesn’t respond immediately, though. Now that they’re down this route of addressing concerns she’s been harbouring in her heart for weeks, Kaya feels the rest of them on the verge of tumbling out of her mouth.

"You've seen him a bit these last couple of months,” she ventures, lowering her voice and leaning backwards against the railing overlooking the river. “Does it seem like he misses me at all?"

Dilara hums, a little too knowingly for Kaya’s liking. “Of course, he does. He’s not the most expressive when it comes to his feelings but aside from Tae last year, I don't think I've met a more miserable person."

Kaya waits for the swell of happiness or relief at this news, but all it brings with it is a new wave of anger and frustration.

“Thanks.”

"Look, speaking from experience, it's not easy seeing your ex after a difficult break-up,” says Dilara, sighing. “But sometimes you don't realise just how much you needed to see them until you see them, even if it's just to gain some closure."

Closure. It sounds… final. Kaya can’t picture it, being virtual strangers eventually, just bits of each other’s past. Ex-boyfriend, girl of his dreams, the one that got away. She hates all those words because they just don’t apply, not really. They can’t.

She closes her eyes and presses the heel of her palms into them to intercept the wetness forming, not caring that Dilara is still on the other end of the line. She and Namjoon had stood right here, years ago, living in the bliss of a new couple in fresh love. He’d brought her a bunch of tiny yellow flowers from the park, part-cheesy and part-genuine, eyes twinkling and dimples soft.

Kaya squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, terrified at how the edges of it are already blurring.

“I don’t think I’ll go,” she murmurs, opening her eyes to stare at the ground. “I can’t.”

“Are you sure?” Dilara sounds slightly surprised.

“Yeah. Two days from now is… it’s too soon. I’ll either cry or yell or… I don’t know. It’s too hard.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. If you’re sure. Let me know if you want to get together on Sunday,” she adds. “Brunch or something.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

—

The next day, Kaya is in the library again, grading papers and wishing she could go back to being a grad student who’s biggest problem was a pop quiz. She’s deliberately chosen a table at the back, away from where the students generally sit, which is why she looks up in surprise when someone comes to her table.

“H-hi, Kaya.” The student waves rests one hand on the back of an empty hair and waves hesitantly with the other.

“Um… hi.” Kaya tries not to frown too conspicuously, for she’s sure she knows this girl.

Svetlana. Savannah.

“Elena, right?”

“Yeah,” she answers with a nervous smile. “Um… are you busy?”

Kaya glances at the stacks of papers, books and laptop on the table. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Okay. Well… I just wanted to say hi.”

Kaya nods awkwardly and forces a small smile on her face. “Hi.”

Elena nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She looks like she’s about to leave but at the last moment, sits down at the table. Kaya feels her smile fade for she really, really wants to be alone right now.

“How - how are things going?” She sounds nervous - extremely so. She seems to be fidgeting slightly and constantly touching her hair.

“Great,” says Kaya shortly, going back to her paper and hoping she’ll take the hint. “You?”

“Not bad, overall. I guess. Classes are hard and mid-terms are coming up as well…” Elena trails off. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Trying not to sigh, Kaya shakes her head. “Not really. You?”

“Well… I’m going to a concert tomorrow,” she answers hurriedly, and it’s clear that she’s been waiting to divulge this information, oblivious to how Kaya’s heart stops. “It should be fun. Do - do you listen to BTS?”

An unexpected notification from this morning floats into her kind. BTS continues their Europe leg by arriving in Amsterdam, ready to kick off the summer in style!

“No,” she answers truthfully.

“Oh.” Elena is quiet for a moment. “They’re really… good.”

There’s some awkward silence during which Kaya deliberately writes comments on the paper she’s grading, scratching the pen on the paper and wishing Elena would leave.

“It’ll be good to get out of campus. The people here are kind of intimidating. The parties are pretty wild, too,” she murmurs after a moment, sounding uncomfortable.

Kaya nods absently, uncharacteristically satisfied with the knowledge that she might be intimidating this unwanted guest. “Maybe you’re going to the wrong parties,” she offers.

Elena lets out a nervous laugh again. “Maybe. I never see you at them, though. There’s one, tonight, in the common room. Maybe you could come,” she suggests lightly. “Bring a friend or - or your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers flatly, not looking up.

“You - oh.” There’s a note of surprise in her voice. “Oh,” she repeats, this time seemingly to herself. “Are you sure?” she blurts out.

Kaya’s eyes snap up to glare at her. “Pretty sure.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “Oh, of - of course,” she stutters. “Sorry, that - that was a stupid question. Sorry.” She swallows and looks at her lap.

Kaya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at an innocent bystander in this situation. “Elena, I… I really need to get these papers done,” she tells her, her voice one of forced calm. “So…”

The blonde finally seems to understand and awkwardly stands up. “Okay. Um, see you around,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again.

Kaya nods as she leaves, Namjoon’s invitation swimming in her mind tantalisingly. She can’t ignore it anymore, the fact that they’re in the same city, her city. If she’s not wrong, he’ll do the concert tomorrow night, the group will probably stay the night and depart by Sunday afternoon or evening and she will probably never see him again.

She attempts to continue grading the paper she was working on when Elena interrupted, but when she finds herself reading the same stupid sentence for the fourth time without retaining anything, she begins packing up, ready to head home.

—

Joon [18:42] Hope to see you there tonight

Kaya, with a loss as to how to respond to this, simply did not. She can’t imagine he would be texting her during his concert, but she also knows he has before, if the situation was urgent enough to demand it.

She straightens the black dress against her hips and tilts her head at her reflection. It’s a simple dress, plain black, form-fitting and reaching below her knees, but it’s quite possibly the most gorgeous, sexiest dress she owns.

If she and Namjoon were together, she would have worn it tonight with no hesitation because it would have driven him insane. After weeks of being apart, seeing her in this dress would have rendered him incapable of staying in work mode without dirty texts, flirty touches and eyes from across the room undressing her. Even now, with a bare face, her hair tied into a loose bun and no footwear, the dress is a game-changer.

She gives herself a few moments to imagine this paradise, one that might have come true tonight had she never told him about the break-in. Then, she silently unzips the dress and climbs out of the black fabric pooled around her feet. Tucking it back into her closet, she looks for something else.

Dilara [18:50] In case you change your mind, sharing the location here [Location]

Dilara’s text had come minutes after Namjoon’s, and Kaya has to imagine it was a genuine coincidence. Although she’d replied to neither, it was the second text that caused her to change her mind - that, and the lingering fear that if she didn’t go today, she didn’t know how either of them would be able to maneuver a situation to see each other again.

The concert should end in a little over an hour. Her phone pings again and she groans, for she doesn’t think she can take any more of their unsubtle attempts at convincing her to go tonight. It’s not Namjoon or Dilara, though, but Adam Fischer, her thirty-something thesis advisor, asking if she wants to discuss the coming week’s class schedule tonight.

Kaya shakes her head as she types out a reply (Sorry, I can’t tonight. Will set up a meeting for first thing Monday if that’s okay?), a little rueful. Namjoon heavily disliked Adam, despite having no concrete reason for doing so. He’d always suspected Adam of having feelings for her, even though Adam hadn’t said or done anything to make her think he might. Part of her wonders if she could somehow ditch the party for this meeting and still make sure that the news travelled to Namjoon through the grapevine (Dilara), and if that would still piss him off even now.

She immediately cringes at the pettiness of it, however, sending her reply to Adam and heading into the shower.

The party is at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel next to the concert venue, and presumably where BTS is staying while in Amsterdam. It isn’t as crowded as she was anticipating, although the music is fairly loud. It looks more like a fancy houseparty, and even a few seconds in, Kaya can spot a handful of vaguely famous people in attendance. She looks around for a familiar face, preferably Dilara or Yoongi or one of the younger boys, wishing she’d called ahead and trying not to think about the fact that in spite of not RSVP-ing, her name was on the guest list.

She takes another hesitant step in and audibly sighs when she spots Taehyung, who, for reasons best known to himself, has accessorised his outfit with an ascot. He seems to be in an animated conversation with Jungkook, while standing in between them and facing ahead, with loose curls tumbling down her shoulders and looking slightly bored, is…

“Kaya!”

Dilara’s mouth forms her name over the music as she brushes past her boyfriend and his friend and hurries towards Kaya, looking both happy and relieved to see her. “You look hot!” she exclaims when she reaches her.

“Oh -” Kaya looks down self-consciously; she’d settled for a straight strapless top and jeans, unable to justify dressing sexier without seeming like she was trying too hard for her ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. And you look…” She frowns slightly at Dilara’s mini-dress and go-go boots, with a slightly out-of-place gold ring hanging around her neck. “... like Daphne Blake.”

Dilara’s face visibly falls. “I look like a cartoon character?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, a very pretty cartoon character,” she adds quickly. “Especially with the headband. But… why?”

She rolls her eyes. “Taehyung picked it - but I’m sure it’s not because of Daphne Blake.” Spotting Kaya’s confused expression, she shrugs sheepishly. “We got into an argument yesterday about who has better taste, so we decided to go shopping at The Nine Streets and pick each other’s outfits for tonight.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows, something seemingly clicking into place. “So the ascot is your doing?”

“M-hm.” She nods in satisfaction before her eyes widen. “Oh, hey! An ascot - like Fred!” She lets out a low whistle at this realisation and laughs, while Kaya nods knowingly, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Not planned but zero regrets. I wonder if Tae knows that - oh.”

Kaya cuts her off mid-sentence with a hug, suddenly immensely grateful for Dilara. She can’t remember the last time she’d let anyone into her life this much with the exception of Namjoon; but just maybe, when she’d been happy with him and her guard had been lowered, Dilara had slipped in without warning as well.

She tightens her arms around Kaya and rubs her back. “It’s good to see you, too,” she says, sounding part-surprised and part-delighted. “It’s been a while but I promise that we will still - oh, hey.” The change in tone is abrupt. “Incoming.”

By the way her voice immediately lowers, Kaya is sure she knows what Dilara is referring to. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she pulls away from the hug and turns as casually as she can.

Her first thought is that he looks thinner - visibly so. Well, he’s on tour, says a voice in her head but Kaya suspects that’s not the only reason, for he’d been on tour when he’d broken up with her as well.

His hair is a silvery blond, looking almost metallic; dressed simply in a black T-shirt and jeans, he runs a hand through his hair so it falls gracefully around his face as he approaches her, his face unreadable.

“Hi,” he says, and it sounds like all the breath has been let out of him with just one word. He swallows and straightens his shoulders, a small smile appearing on his face, the dimple faintly visible. “It’s good to see you, Kaya.”

Kaya nods, unable to speak and overcome with a sudden urge to cry. “You, too,” she murmurs, glancing at the floor and blinking rapidly before looking back up at him, a bit defiantly.

“I’m glad you decided to come.”

She nods again, her chest twisting at how normal he sounds. He’s standing far away from her as well, as though to make it clear in every way possible that they’re not together.

“Hope you had a good concert,” she ventures, recalling the grad student who’d accosted her yesterday, practically beside herself at attending a BTS concert. “Backstage must have been hectic.”

A flicker of something appears in his eyes for a moment, possibly with memories of backstage. Wishes of luck, last minute hugs, sweaty and passionate kisses fueled by adrenaline. But it disappears instantly and Kaya wonders if she imagined it.

“It was,” he answers, nodding. He slides his hands into his pockets smoothly, leaning back on his heels and his smile widening a little. “But worth it as always. The crew did well.”

Kaya doesn’t even bother nodding this time; all of a sudden, she regrets coming here tonight. Dilara has left, she just realises, and Namjoon is acting like they’re acquaintances at best, making her feel stupid and yet immensely grateful that she didn’t wear the sexy black dress.

At that moment, his eyes flicker to something behind her. “I’m sorry, I just need to go and say hi to a couple of people. But enjoy your night. It’s an open bar,” he adds, smiling and nodding politely before brushing past her and walking away.

Kaya doesn’t move; she doesn’t think she can. Something heavy feels like it’s settled on her chest, the weight of confusion, disbelief and crushing disappointment threatening to suffocate her. She has no idea what she’d been expecting; maybe arguing, fighting, crying together again - but not him not caring. Not this.

Namjoon continues walking in the opposite direction for as long as he can keep Kaya in his peripheral vision, both guilty and relieved when she doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look her in the eye if she does, witness the pain and hurt in her face that close.

He catches Seokjin’s eye and hurries over to him. Seokjin raises his eyebrows and seems to guess what might have transpired, ushering him over to the other end of the circular bar and out of Kaya’s line of sight.

“How did it go?”

Namjoon rests his palms on the bar and shakes his head, no words coming to him at the moment and feeling like he could throw up. He can’t fathom how he did it, how he stood there before her and didn’t immediately pull her to him, or break down and ask her to forgive him for doing the only thing he knew to do.

“Drink this.” Seokjin slides a glass to him and Namjoon takes it without hesitation, taking a huge gulp and waiting for it to sting his sinuses.

“This is water,” he states hoarsely, frowning at the glass.

“Cold water,” corrects Seokjin. “It’ll help clear your head.”

Namjoon takes another sip and places the glass down, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t do this. How do I tell her I can’t do this? How do I ask her to -“ But he breaks off here, his mind swimming with the sight of her bare shoulders and exposed collarbones, imagining how they would feel if he held her.

“Okay.” Seokjin exhales through his nose and pauses. “Look, I have to ask. You’ve seen the state she is in. And you’re…” He struggles for a moment “...like this. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to ask her to get back -“

“No.” The answer is instant, although it’s partly a habit by now. As he does every time his mind tries to convince him otherwise, Namjoon forces the memory of her phone call to the forefront of his mind, the fear in her voice and devastation on her face when he’d entered her apartment.

“But maybe this is -“

“No.”

Seokjin is silent and Namjoon can tell that he doesn’t approve. Please don’t ask me again, hyung. He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by inviting her but he couldn’t imagine not doing it either, not being right here in her city, knowing she was so close that he could almost smell the coconut and vanilla in the air and still not see her in the flesh.

“If you’re sure,” says Seokjin at last. “If you are, then I guess you did well. Just… just be normal around her. Keep a normal distance, talk about normal things and…” He half-shrugs, sounding uncertain. “She’s smart. She’ll understand. If you’re sure you want to do this, then… she’ll get it.”

Normal. Namjoon knows what he means, but he wants to tell him that none of this is normal. Not touching her, not being honest with her, not being with her - none of it is normal.

“She’s talking to Yoongi right now,” he adds, and Namjoon turns to see them near the stairs to the top floor. Kaya’s back is to him, her head lowered slightly and her thumbs hooked onto the back pockets of her jeans, the material hugging her hips and curving down her backside… He swallows and looks away.

“This is your chance,” says Seokjin. “Go and mingle. Let her see you moving on - even if you actually aren’t,” he clarifies quickly. “It won’t be pleasant but it might encourage her to do the same.”

Namjoon isn’t sure of the wisdom of this strategy but ever since the cause of his break-up had been revealed to the older members (and surely to Taehyung at least, by Dilara), he’d almost been relieved that he wouldn’t have to make every decision on his own.

He tries his best to navigate the party after that, making empty conversation with guests, using every bit of remaining energy and willpower to plaster a smile on his face. All the while, part of his attention is constantly on Kaya, registering her familiar figure alone at the bar as she nurses a beer, sometimes with Dilara.

Be normal. Seokjin’s words start holding less and less meaning with every passing minute, especially when he spots Kaya having finished her drink and he’s struck with the sudden fear that she will leave the party. In an effort to be as normal as he can, Namjoon heads over to the bar where she’s scanning the life-size menu half-heartedly, arms folded across her chest.

“Like anything?” he asks humbly. Long Island Iced Tea or a Mai Tai - depends on the flavours. His heart jolts when she shoots him a doubtful look and doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s wary of talking to him. She leans over the bar and gives the bartender a smile that makes his heart drop, especially when he grins back.

“Komt de mai tai in mango?” she asks, half-pouting when he shakes his head. “Een biertje, alsjeblieft,” she says finally, taking her second beer and turning away from the bar.

Namjoon doesn’t remember ever feeling this distant from her. “I’m glad you came tonight,” he tries again, choosing to look at her even though she’s facing away.

Kaya nods, pursing her lips and looking ahead. “Yeah, you said that already.” But her voice trembles ever so slightly, or maybe he just knows her so well that he’s sure it’s not a case of her not wanting to look at him - she can’t look at him.

It’s all on him now. He started this; if there is any hope of them still staying in each other’s lives, it’s down to him to make it happen.

“How’s your dissertation going?” he asks, hoping her work is a topic she might open up on.

She shrugs after a moment. “Off schedule,” she answers shortly. “A lot of variables hanging in the air.”

“Did you get into the research project you’d applied for?”

It’s momentary but it appears: the corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Yeah,” she admits, finally looking at him, albeit hesitantly. “Guess I’ll have a lot more time to focus on it now,” she murmurs, the hint of a smile fading.

Namjoon’s heart sinks. She’s so angry with him; it’s palpable and not something he has ever been on the receiving end of. Her hand hangs by her side; his own itches to link his fingers with his, maybe tug her to him or lead her out of this stupid party where he can plead for her to just look at him.

“Well,” he says, then pauses. “I’m glad you could get the time off tonight. Must have been hard.”

“M-hm, not really.” She shakes her head. “Adam wanted to meet but I’ll probably catch up with him later,” she adds nonchalantly.

Namjoon nods, his hand tightening around his glass. He can’t tell if she’s trying to provoke him, for they do work closely; close enough that Adam’s intentions have always been a point of disagreement for them. He’d never been able to explain to her just how much he hated the way her advisor looked at her when she didn’t notice, how his hugs always lingered a moment too long or how he insisted on calling her late in the evenings to discuss work.

He’s distracted momentarily by Jungkook, who approaches them while bopping effortlessly to the music and stops in between them, turning to face in the same direction as Namjoon and Kaya. He’s definitely tipsy; the smile on his face is too big and he doesn’t seem to be reading the room at all.

“Dilara is a really good dancer, isn’t she?” he says loudly in English to no one in particular. Namjoon frowns and follows his gaze to see Dilara, Taehyung and Hoseok dancing, before turning back to look at Jungkook. On his other side, Kaya is also frowning at him, tilting her head curiously. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows slightly.

Namjoon fights a smile as Kaya half-chuckles and looks away, his heart twisting with longing at how much he misses her. She looks so incredibly beautiful; his eyes sting when he realises that there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

“I’m gonna -“ He gestures vaguely and walks away in the opposite direction, desperate to be anywhere but around her before his resolve breaks.

The next half hour is a flurry of faces; Namjoon distracts himself with every single individual at the party, making small talk and exchanging unfunny jokes and hyper aware of Kaya occasionally glancing at him.

He knows, because he’s watching her, too, doing his best to make sure she doesn’t see him looking. He can’t even help it; it’s almost muscle memory at this point.

“Who are you looking at?” The woman he’s talking to asks him point-blank.

Namjoon flushes, realising he’d been staring at Kaya over her shoulder while she’d been speaking.

“No one,” he answers quickly. “Sorry.”

The twenty-something woman frowns curiously. “Are you sure? I’m not offended.”

“It’s… nothing.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor.

“Ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. Not trusting himself to speak, Namjoon nods.

“Hm.” She hums, somewhat sympathetically. “Bad break-up?”

“Pretty bad.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “It’s never easy to be around an ex if it hasn’t ended well.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, desperate to change the topic. “All part of the process, right?”

“Right,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, once you’re past this phase, the one where you constantly want to die, you can begin the drink and eat and hook up as much as you want stage with no judgement.”

He chuckles politely, the prospect sounding horrendous. “Thanks. Feels good to laugh for real.”

She smiles wider and, before he knows it, leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.

It takes Namjoon a couple of seconds of pure shock before he jumps backwards. “Whoa. What -“ His heart races uncomfortably. “What was that?”

“Sorry,” she says slowly, looking a little confused. “I thought… you wanted to make your ex jealous. Isn’t that where you were going with this?”

“No,” he clarifies immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to - no.” In the midst of his minor crisis, he notes how the woman looks almost mortified.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He looks up out of habit and sees, unmistakably, Kaya leaving the restaurant, her long dark hair and the shimmery dark blue of her top disappearing out the door.

—

The night has gotten chillier in the last couple of hours and the cool wind hits her bare shoulders the moment she steps out, but Kaya barely feels it. She’s not thinking right now; thinking is what’s got them here, thinking about everything and overthinking to the point of fleeing a restaurant.

“Kaya!”

Her feet increase their pace automatically the same time her stomach flips, but he’s taller and faster and he reaches her before she can even reach the elevator.

“Kaya,” he repeats hurriedly, reaching and grabbing her elbow. “Wait, please. I’m sorry -”

“Why did you even invite me here?” she asks, cutting him off and turning around to face him. She’s so tired; she didn’t think break-ups could be this exhausting. “You’ve barely said anything to me. Was it to show me in person how you’re moving on? Because if that’s the case, then… message received.”

Namjoon shakes his head immediately; he looks exhausted as well, and Kaya is once again struck by how much thinner he is, overcome with a mixture of empathy and frustration at him.

“That was not - I didn’t plan that,” he says, sighing. “I don’t even know who she is. She kissed me and it wasn’t… come on, does it look like I’m moving on?” he asks, raising his arms helplessly.

Kaya stares at him and then sighs, shaking her head. “Why did you invite me here?” she asks again, less defensive this time.

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says at once.

She stares at him. “Well, you’ve seen me,” she says, sniffing. “Can I go now?”

“Kaya…”

“What?”

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for words. “Please don’t -“ He breaks off abruptly before taking a step closer to her, his height both large and comforting. “I don’t want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”

Too late. “You’re not supposed to care how I feel. Not anymore.”

He lets out a humourless chuckle. “What?”

“We’re over.” She can hear the tremble in her voice as she crosses her arms across her chest again. “You said it yourself. You’re not supposed to care how I feel.”

“Really?” He narrows his eyes at her. “You think this break-up had anything to do with how I feel about you? You know as I do that it didn’t.” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “I did this because I care.”

“If you say so.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me or something?”

“Provoke you into what?” she blurts out. “What - what is that you want, exactly? What do you want us to do? Just circle around in each other’s orbits for the rest of our lives, while still being - while still feeling the way we do?” she asks, avoiding her almost-slip of tongue. “We’re just supposed to stay not be together and still stay in each other’s lives? What - what do you want?”

Namjoon opens his mouth but falls silent; it’s clear he hasn’t thought that far ahead - or he can’t say it out loud. “I want…” He begins, before pausing and starting again. “I want… you to be happy,” he says eventually. “And safe.”

She scoffs and he bristles.

“I’m serious. I -” He breaks off when someone exits the restaurant, his gaze following them until they’re out of sight before he turns back to her. “This is hard for me, too, you know? Why is it so hard for you to believe I might want you to be happy?”

Kaya exhales but doesn’t answer, because it isn’t hard to believe, not even a little bit. It’s unfortunately the most believable thing he’s ever said to her which means she can’t even fight it.

“How?” she asks finally. “By moving on, like you were pretending to do?”

Namjoon bites his lip and his eyes glaze over, and she knows he’s picturing it. His eyes fall to the floor but he nods slowly anyway. “Yeah, I guess. As long as I don’t have to watch it,” he adds in a mutter.

It’s really over. Kaya feels her eyes well up. “Fine,” she answers quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone to move on with tonight.” She turns to leave but feels him stop her again. “What?” she snarls.

“Kaya, I -” The lift opens and a handful of people tumble out, holding merchandise and talking loudly. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs her arms and walks her back into a corner, just as the group turns into their corridor and towards the restaurant.

“What are you -”

But the second lift opens just then and they hear the sound of a second group of voices. Namjoon swears under his breath and pushes open a door behind her, walking her back further into the tiny dark room and letting the door swing shut behind him.

“What is wrong with -“

“It’s press,” he hisses, and she falls silent.

He peers out into the corridor through the small window in the door; there’s no light except for the bit through the window and from a skylight in the ceiling. Kaya can smell something vaguely citric that she decides is floor cleaner; they are in a janitor’s closet.

She and Namjoon are frozen in place, his hands still on her arms and hers on his torso to keep from losing her balance. It’s been a long time since they’ve been this close; it takes Kaya a few seconds to realise that the voices outside have disappeared, but he still hasn’t moved away.

Almost as if he’s subconsciously heard her, his thumbs stroke her arm once. The simple touch makes all the anger crumble away for a moment, especially now that it’s just them with the rest of the world shut outside. Kaya hesitates for a moment, then gently rests her forehead on his shoulder. Namjoon stiffens but a moment later, she feels his fingers tighten above her elbows, followed by him loosely enveloping her in his arms.

It seems cruel, almost, that the target of her anger and source of her comfort lie in the same person. It isn’t even a hug; it’s a moment of weakness at best, borne from his almost subconscious need to protect her. For the first time, Kaya wonders if she’s being unfair to him.

Resisting the temptation to wrap her arms around his waist, she steps away from him with difficulty, her back touching the wall. His arms fall from around her reluctantly, his expression resigned. It’s dark but she can see him more clearly than she has all night.

“This is a terrible idea,” she murmurs, echoing her words from a month ago. “The worst you’ve ever had.”

Namjoon exhales shakily but doesn’t argue. “I meant everything I said in that note,” he says, not even trying to hide the tremble in his voice anymore. “And I really do want you to be happy.”

The note. The one he’d kept on her bedside table when he’d left her apartment while she slept, the only thing of his that was left when she’d awoken, naked and alone. She’d only had the strength to read it once before she’d broken down and tucked it deep into her drawer, knowing the words would be etched in her memory.

“You know what will make me happy,” she whispers, looking at the ground. She feels him come closer to her, one hand hovering by her side as though unable to decide if she’d want her to touch him.

He finally rests it lightly on her waist, moving it slightly upward as she looks up at him, her heart twisting at how he’s unable to meet her eyes. She places her hands on his face, thinking vaguely how much she misses seeing his dimple.

“Joon,” she whispers, waiting for him to nod once. “Look at me.”

Namjoon visibly swallows, gaze still fallen. “Kaya, I…”

“No,” she interrupts him. “Look at me.”

With what seems like an enormous effort, he meets her eyes. This is hard for me too, you know?

She knows. Kaya strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs, her touch feather-light. “Kiss me,” she whispers. She touches her forehead to his and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll give in, for she can’t go further than this.

His hand tightens around her waist, pressing her into the wall. Their lips brush momentarily and he shivers.

“Do it,” she urges, her voice barely audible now. “Kiss me.”

She feels his lips before she even registers him moving against her and she leans into it, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. Come back to me, she thinks desperately. Come back to where you belong.

It’s like he can hear her. Namjoon pulls away, one hand on the wall beside her face for support, the other holding her.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and it sends a jolt of anticipation through her heart. “I love you, Kaya,” he adds, voice full of emotion. Kaya nods, unable to speak, wishing he would meet her eyes. He moves his hands to her face and touches his forehead to hers again, swallowing.

Look at me.

But he doesn’t. “But you have no idea,” he continues, every word sounding like it's costing him effort, “how I felt when you called me that night. The things that went through my mind…” He sniffs, and Kaya’s heart sinks. “I can’t let that happen again baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

She can feel her face start to contort and she drops her hands from his shoulders, for she knows this part by heart. “Goodbye, Namjoon,” she mutters thickly, sliding out from between him and the wall. She pushes open the door and hurries out, leaving him behind.

—

When she hears the knock on her front door the next morning, Kaya is just about to step into the shower. She freezes and sighs, for she really, really needs this shower. She considers ignoring it but the knock sounds again and she groans, abandoning the activity of tying up her hair and letting it fall loose instead.

Grabbing the old, threadbare robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she pulls it around herself and shuffles to the front door. She peers through the peephole and her heart stops for a moment, but she steels herself and opens the door.

Namjoon stands before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. “Hey. I just wanted to - oh, God,” he switches abruptly, his expression changing from vaguely apologetic to shocked, and he slips inside the apartment.

“What?” Kaya asks, taken off guard and stumbling backwards.

“You really opened the door wearing that?” he hisses, shutting the door behind him. “I could’ve been anyone!”

“I knew it was you,” she argues, tightening the belt around her waist and realising, for the first time, how short the robe is. But she isn’t about to admit that to him, especially not when he’s turned up unannounced and decided to begin his visit by berating her. She folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

He hesitates, almost as though he’s just noticing how displeased she is. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking a bit ashamed. “I didn’t mean to… anyway,” he says quickly, wringing his hands and slipping them back in his pockets. “How are you?”

Kaya shrugs suspiciously. He looks remarkably different from where she’d left him last night, almost breaking down and apologising to her. Right now, he seems almost… calm. She can almost imagine that last night had been a slip-up of emotion, possibly due to tiredness and an open bar, whereas in the light of day, he’s back to being the responsible ex who’s fulfilling his obligations by checking up on her each day.

“I’m great.”

He nods after a moment, clearly not believing her. “Well, I came here because…” He sighs and a glimmer of last night’s emotion appears on his face. “I thought about what you said last night. And you were right.”

The jolt in her stomach is almost painful, but Kaya hangs on. If he was talking about what she thinks he is, he would be delivering it far more differently.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t expect you to keep doing this,” he adds. “Staying in this limbo, not knowing…” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, removing his hands from his pockets. “You have every right to move on. I want you to - to be happy.”

Kaya licks her lips slowly. “This,” she says coldly, “could’ve been a text.”

“I didn’t want to leave things the way they were last night,” he tells her, his voice softer. “You’re, uh…” His voice breaks off for a moment. “You’re the love of my life. And we were together for a long time and I… I loved every moment of it. I just want to say goodbye the right way.”

Her throat hurts holding back the rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her.

“Are you sure?” She can’t resist asking, in a whisper. When he nods and lowers his eyes, she feels the heavy, heavy anchor of acceptance settle in her stomach.

Namjoon hesitantly reaches out with one hand but when she gives him a look, he nods and steps forward, and they meet in their last hug, three and a half years after their first last hug in her apartment.

Kaya hugs him tight, no longer caring about hiding how she feels. There isn’t enough time to try and memorise everything so she doesn’t even try; she just goes higher on her toes and presses her nose into his shoulder, revelling in his scent one last time.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be doing much better. He’s holding her tight, so tight that it doesn’t seem like he’s ever intending on letting her go. His face is in her hair and his arms stroke her back in small movements, his go-to movement to comfort her since they met.

Just a few more seconds. The sensations increase now; the feel of his shoulders, his chest touching hers - and she’s suddenly conscious of the thin robe being the only thing separating her naked body from him.

At the same time, his hands move to her waist - out of habit, she knows, but she can’t help but be extremely aware of it. His hand stops just above the curve of her hips, quickly and abruptly.

Her mouth feels dry, but her legs press together. Then, as though he can read her mind and the direction her thoughts are invariably leading in, against her hip, she can feel his body react.

She lets out a soft gasp and feels his body stiffen around her. This is goodbye, a voice reminds her, urging her brain to focus on the matter at hand. But it’s slipping - fading, almost, as a physical urge struggles for dominance.

Her lips brush his neck as she pulls away - she has to pull away - but it doesn’t matter in the end because somewhere along the way his lips find hers and all thought disappears, replaced by touch, feel and hunger.

Namjoon sighs into her mouth like he’s breathing for the first time, pulling her close. Her robe starts to loosen and he tugs at the belt, groaning when his hands touch her bare skin.

“Fuck, are you really not wearing anything under this?” he murmurs, his voice so low and reverberating so deep inside her that she shivers.

The robe is off; it’s cool and sudden air, a moment where his hands fall from her waist and then their back but this time, it’s skin against skin. It’s lips and sighs and tight grips, the feel of denim, her fingers moving out of habit as they unbutton and unzip - and then there’s pride and relief when she feels his desire for her, still the same as ever, no matter his words.

There’s something solid against her back; somewhere, dimly, her mind registers that her dining table is rickety and has her laptop on it, and then she’s leaning forward and he’s behind her and his chest is against her back and he wants her just as much as he wants him.

“Are you -“

“I’m still on birth control,” she confirms tightly, the next moment feeling his fingers on her hips and then he’s inside her again, after so long. She could almost sob at how good it feels, how right, the lips on her shoulder and his scent and touch.

But it’s over too soon. She gasps and falls forward, her ears ringing and heart hurting at the same time as her heart races. He’s getting close, too; she tries to memorise it now, the exact moment, but then he pulls out. It’s sudden, the emptiness, but the next moment, she feels wetness on her back.

It takes around ten seconds, ten seconds when she’s frozen before she finally hears him sigh and take a step away. A moment later, she reaches across the table and pulls the tissue box towards her, reaching behind and wiping her back.

Kaya turns slightly to see him pulling on his T-shirt, jeans buttoned already. She picks up her robe and pulls it on hurriedly, suddenly not wanting to be naked for even another microsecond in front of him.

Something feels wrong. It’s not the first time he’s finished on her; he’s done it before, on explicit request and without, none of which ever made her feel… like this. Self-conscious. Bare.

Namjoon clears his throat. “I -“ He meets her eyes, still panting slightly. “I still want to… do this right,” he says, sounding almost formal. “Goodbye, Kaya.”

He starts to take a step forward but pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t hug,” he murmurs, offering her a small smile. Kaya watches as he hesitantly offers her a hand.

This is goodbye. Kaya can’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable around him. The momentary loss of her sense of reason feels like it’s returned in full form, and she tightens the robe around her. She starts to reach for his hand but then stops.

“This is what you meant?” she asks quietly. “When you said you wanted to do it the right way? You wanted to see if you could squeeze in one last fuck before you closed this out like a business meeting?”

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No! I didn’t - I didn’t want that to happen! I mean - you know that’s not what I meant,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t plan this. You and I both -“

“You planned our break-up and I had no idea,” she cuts him off, the shame and embarrassment creeping up her throat. “I really don’t know anymore.”

He scoffs, but his eyes flicker like he’s been stung. “Is that what you think of me? We were both here, Kaya. It wasn’t just me - you wanted this just as much as I -“

“I slept with Adam.”

Namjoon freezes. He swallows and his eyes flicker again, rapidly this time. “You’re lying,” he whispers.

Kaya shrugs, holding his gaze with every last bit of willpower in her. “You were the one who told me to move on last night,” she reminds him, watching his expression crumble and doing nothing to stop it.

After what feels like several minutes, or maybe even hours, Namjoon nods slowly. Then, without another word, he turns around and opens the door, walking out of her life and shutting the door behind him.

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts rm fanfic #bts rm angst #bts rm smut

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weemssapphic · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I love your stories! Could you write a story about Larissa Weems and a University Student reader? Something 18+. They do the deed in an art museum restroom and the reader gets caught by their classmates because they still have lipstick stains on their neck. Thanks :3

hello! thank you for the compliment! 🥰 so very sorry that this has been rotting in my inbox for an obscenely long amount of time, my brain for some reason really did not want me to get this done 😣 i hope it's at least halfway decent to make up for that!

thank you to @afeatherformills for the beta-read <3

warnings/content: nsfw, age gap (reader is 18+), cunnilingus/fingering (reader receiving), praise kink, marking kink

words: ~3k

Lipstick Stains

next chapter | series page

“I’ll meet you guys back here soon okay?”

“Sure, just text us when you’re done,” Robin replied, threading her fingers through Christin’s and turning to lead her into an exhibit on modern art. Cassandra offered you a smile and trailed behind them, leaving you to your own devices.

You weaved your way through the throngs of tourists crowding at the entrance, all still deciding which way to go. You’d been here often enough to know the floor plan by heart, knowing which exhibits would be the most crowded on Saturdays. You also knew that your favorite exhibit would be deliciously empty, as almost no one wandered that far back into the museum.

You settled on a bench in front of an ancient Greek sculpture and pulled your sketchbook from your bag, thumbing through it until you found a blank page, and began to sketch, the world around you fading slowly until it was only static in the background.

“Exquisite, isn’t it?” A low voice in your left ear made you jump, your stomach dropping as if you’d just hit the peak of a roller coaster, your heart skipping a beat. In your art-induced daze, you hadn’t even heard anyone else enter the exhibit.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You twisted in your seat to find the source of the interruption: a statuesque blonde towering over your shoulder. A smirk graced her crimson lips as your eyes raked over her shapely form, pausing for a moment on their upward journey at her hips before moving higher and, finally, making eye contact.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, clenching your fingers tightly around your pencil as you worked to get your racing heartbeat under control.

“Larissa,” the woman introduced herself and you noticed that she spoke in a lilting English accent. Her voice had a soothing quality to it, calming you almost instantly.

Larissa. A beautiful name for a beautiful stranger. You smiled at that, heart fluttering at the smile you received in return.

“Y/N.”

“Would you care for some company, Y/N?” Normally, you would say no to such a request, prioritizing your alone time over small talk with strangers. But something about her had you absolutely mesmerized and before you knew what you were doing, you were nodding and the woman was sitting down next to you. She was so close that you could smell her perfume - notes of jasmine and rose, floral and decidedly feminine.

“Keep working,” she encouraged, seeming to notice your hesitation as you watched her. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you turned reluctantly back to your sketch and traced along the paper. Now it was as if your entire body was prickling with electricity at this mysterious stranger’s presence, your nerves alive and burning.

You stole a glance to your left, marveling at how put-together she looked - silver curls done up in an elaborate updo, drawing attention to her long neck and the smooth planes of her rosy cheekbones, eyes the deepest shade of blue you’d ever seen, framed by mascara-coated lashes that brushed against her cheeks when she blinked, lips a bright shade of red, parted ever so slightly as she as she admired the statue you were sketching.

You wondered briefly if you should flip to a new page and start to sketch her when her eyes shifted over to you, trapping you in her gaze, and the world around you stilled. A heavy blush crept up your cheeks and you couldn’t take it anymore, dropping your gaze back to your sketchbook.

“I have to admit I was surprised to see someone else back here, it’s my favorite exhibit and it’s not often I run into anyone here.” Larissa crossed her legs as she spoke, long legs that seemed to stretch on for miles, and you had trouble tearing your eyes away from them.

“Then I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner, I come here a lot. I like it back here, it’s quiet.”

“You’re here alone?” There was an edge to the woman’s voice, something darker swimming in her eyes as she leaned towards you.

“Uh, sort of? My friends are off somewhere, I’m not meeting them until later.” You squinted slightly, trying to discern the woman’s intentions, but she leaned back again, a satisfied smile gracing her lips, any edge she’d previously had dissipating in an instant.

Somewhere between outlining the Greek statue and your conversation with Larissa, you realized you’d begun to sketch her instead, the silhouette of her body slowly taking shape under the tip of your pencil.

“What are you working on?” Larissa tilted her head towards yours, her breath warm on your cheek as she peered at your drawing. The sudden invasion of your space made your cheeks heat and your pulse skyrocket. Her perfume was overwhelming now, it filled your nostrils and clouded your senses, making you dizzy.

You hesitated for a moment - after all, this woman was just a stranger, and being caught sketching her could end up very embarrassing for you. Something about her curiosity and openness, and your intoxication by her sudden proximity, won out though, and you pushed your sketchbook over for her to see. “Just an assignment for class. I’m an art major,” you supplied.

Larissa traced a long, manicured finger over the sketch, humming her appreciation, the vibrations clinging to the air between the two of you. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring earlier,” Larissa murmured, lips pulling into a smirk as she raised her gaze to meet yours. You were a kid with your hand caught in the cookie jar, until -

A warm hand on your thigh.

A quirk of a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

It was as if your ears were ringing and the air around you was thick and all you could do was wonder if Larissa felt it too.

Larissa’s eyes darkened as she hovered over you, lips parting as she waited for you to close the distance, your faces mere inches apart. You hesitated only for a second before crashing your lips into hers, whining at how Larissa’s tongue swiped almost instantly at your lower lip. Your sketchbook and pencil clattered to the floor as Larissa’s hands came to your waist and pulled you towards her, shifting you onto her lap to straddle her thighs.

“Is this okay?” She murmured into your mouth between kisses, breath ghosting over your face.

“Yes,” you sighed, not caring that you sounded more than a little needy as you wrapped your arms around her neck, enjoying the feeling of her palms settling on your hips.

The kisses became hotter, more desperate, and you found yourself beginning to search for a bit of friction as you ground your pelvis onto Larissa’s thighs. She moaned into your mouth and dug the pads of her fingers into your hips, pushing you down onto her lap.

You found a steady rhythm, rolling your hips and getting decent friction from the seam of your jeans, but it wasn’t enough, and it soon left you growling in frustration as the coil behind your navel wound tighter and tighter but found no release.

Larissa let out a breathy chuckle and moved her lips to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe before whispering, “let me take care of that for you.”

She lifted you carefully off her lap and motioned for you to gather your things - of course you did as you were told, you couldn’t possibly refuse this woman - and then led you expertly down several hallways, avoiding crowds converging at different exhibits before stopping at the restrooms.

Larissa pulled you into one of the restrooms, swiftly locking the door behind you before latching her lips onto yours in a heated kiss and pushing you back into the sink. Larissa’s body pressed into yours, your hands pulling at her waist. Her tongue swiped at your lips, begging for entry, and you conceded, allowing her to explore the contours of your mouth. Her hands came up to thread themselves in your hair, tugging lightly as her fingernails scratched at your scalp.

She pressed a plethora of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, swirling her tongue along the skin there. As she got to your collarbone, she began to nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, then soothing her tongue over the little red mark. Her head dipped into your cleavage, nibbling at the soft flesh barely exposed above your shirt, eliciting a low whine from your throat.

Larissa pulled back at the sound, peering up at you. No one had ever looked at you with such unadulterated hunger before, and it unnerved you. Your heart thundered aggressively against your ribcage, so loudly you were sure she could hear it as well.

A fire had been started behind your navel and was radiating outward, setting your whole body ablaze.

“Larissa…” A wetness pooled between the apex of your thighs and you clenched them together.

“You look absolutely divine,” Larissa growled before her lips hungrily crashed back into yours. Her hands settled on your waist, tugging you closer, though they didn’t stay there for long before they began to wander. Her left hand came up to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze through the fabric of your shirt as her right hand wandered down to your jeans, her slender fingers tracing the button in question.

“May I?” She muttered against your lips, voice low and dripping with desire. You nodded into the kiss, your fingers coming to your pants to assist with the process.

With your jeans around your ankles, Larissa’s fingers grazed over your underwear and she let out a sinful moan at the wet patch she found there.

“All this for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet?” She looked at you with humor in her eyes, a smirk passing her lips as she began to kiss down your neck again, moving down your body and pulling your underwear down with her, allowing you to kick them off and to the side.

“Let me get a taste of you, darling, hmm? I bet you taste so good.”

Larissa swiped two fingers lightly through your folds, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the unexpected touch. She brought the digits to her mouth and slowly, obscenely swirled her tongue around them to taste your juices, moaning and gazing up at you through her eyelashes. You gulped audibly, trying to clench your thighs together to keep your arousal from dripping down your legs, but Larissa’s hands came to your knees to force your legs open.

“Ah-ah, let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” You blushed crimson at her words, trying to look away, but a hand on your arm made you look down. Larissa looked at you with such kind sincerity in her eyes. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, darling. You’re beautiful.” The words didn’t help with your blush, but you held her gaze this time and relished in her smile as she turned her attention back to the throbbing ache between your legs.

Heat pooled in your stomach as Larissa dragged her nails down your thighs, placing her tongue at your entrance and trailing it slowly towards your throbbing clit. Her tongue began to circle the sensitive nub and a pitiful whimper clawed its way out of your throat. You were so close already, your excitement beginning to trickle down the inside of your thighs.

Your cunt was aching, wanting - needing - more. You clutched at the sink behind you, white knuckled, pressing your hips forward, anything to get Larissa’s mouth closer, anything to get more.

Larissa hooked your calf over her shoulder to get a better angle, groaning as your pussy opened up for her. She placed her hands on your hips to hold you in place, her nails digging little half-moon crescents into the tender flesh there. Your entire body felt ablaze under her touch, you felt almost feverish as she flattened her tongue against your slit, lapping up the juices that flowed freely.

“Fuck - Larissa,” you groaned as you began to grind your hips into Larissa’s mouth, chest heaving.

One of Larissa’s hands left your hips and you gasped as cool fingers brushed against your center. The action only served to stoke the embers in the pit of your stomach and you moaned as a single digit sank into your hole halfway, pulled back out, then sank in again, further this time, slowly, all whilst her tongue ravished your clit.

A second finger soon followed and you met your hips in time with the thrusts of her fingers, unable to take your eyes off the goddess kneeling before you. A particularly loud moan fell from her lips and vibrated against your center, all but forcing you to slam your thighs shut around her head at the sensation.

“I-I’m s-so close,” you gasped, biting into your bottom lip to keep from crying out as Larissa picked up her pace inside of you, curling her fingers into the spongy spot that had you tensing up and seeing stars behind your eyes. Her tongue latched onto your clit, sucking feverishly as shockwaves began to rack your body.

“That’s it,” Larissa cooed, her lips brushing against the hood of your clit and causing your walls to clench around her fingers. “Be a good girl for me and come,” Larissa’s voice dropped several octaves as she dragged her fingers in and out of your cunt.

Maybe it was the “good girl” that did you in. Or maybe it was just the fact that Larissa was good, really, really good, at what she was doing. But come you did.

Your thrusts became more erratic as you rode Larissa’s face, reaching your high on her tongue as your world exploded around you, vulgar moans dripping from your lips. Larissa carried you through it, lapping up every drop of your essence that poured out of you, tongue flicking languidly at your clit to bring you gently back down to earth.

For a moment everything was still, your leg still hooked over Larissa’s shoulder as she held you in place. She pulled her fingers out of you, slowly and ever so gently, and you mewled at the loss of contact, which earned you a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

Larissa cleaned you up with her tongue, taking her time to explore your inner thighs and your swollen sex. She peppered your mound with kisses, then the tender flesh of your belly, the swell of your breasts, your clavicle, your throat, your jaw - her lips hovered over yours for a moment before finally making contact, though this kiss was nothing like the rest. It was slow and sweet, tender even, and you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“You did so well for me,” she praised against your lips, her hand coming to cup your cheek, thumb gently stroking the flushed skin there.

As you pulled on your now-ruined panties and your jeans, Larissa stood in front of the mirror, washing her hands, redoing her lipstick, and adjusting a few bobby pins that had come loose in her hair.

“Will I see you again?” you murmured hesitantly, a bit pathetically, half-hoping that maybe she’d spare you the embarrassment of rejection and would pretend she didn’t hear you.

To your surprise, she grinned and held her palm out to you. At your quizzical gaze, she chuckled and said “your phone.”

You quickly handed her your phone and she added herself as a contact, before handing you back said phone and moving to the restroom door.

“Now, I really must get back to work, but do call me sometime.”

Larissa paused, eyes raking hungrily over your body. They stopped for a moment at your neck and a dark smirk crossed her face, a low hum of approval leaving her throat.

You felt utterly exposed under her gaze, short of breath, thighs clenched together tightly with want. Your heart pounded in your chest at the nod Larissa gave you, cool, almost professional, and in an instant she was gone, the door closing behind her. You steadied yourself on the counter, avoiding your own gaze in the mirror as you caught your breath.

Maybe, if you had bothered to look at yourself in the mirror, you’d have seen the many lipstick stains down the column of your neck that had been left during your little rendezvous, no doubt the thing that had left Larissa smirking at you before leaving you high and dry.

Alright, breathe. You’ll just find your friends, they’ll never realize you were gone. You checked your phone, 5:54pm. Shit, almost time to go. Without sparing yourself another glance (wrong move), you tucked your hair behind your ear, slung your bag over your shoulder and ran out of the restroom and straight into Cassandra.

“Hey, what gives? We spent half the afternoon looking for you!” Her eyes narrowed accusingly, then traveled down your neck, widening comically as her jaw dropped.

“Y/N, what were you doing in there?!” She shrieked.

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered, your beet-red face giving you away (as if the lipstick stains and blooming hickeys on your chest hadn’t already).

“You’re covered in lipstick,” Cassandra hissed, not caring that several tourists were looking curiously at the pair of you as they passed.

“I’m… I’m what?” You pulled out your phone, turning on the front camera to examine yourself and groaning when you saw the marks dotting the front of your neck and chest. “Larissa,” you whined.

“Who’s Larissa? She the one who gave you those hickeys?” Robin and Christin chose that moment to sneak up on the two of you, Robin slinging an arm around your shoulder and grinning down at you. Your blush extended to the tips of your ears and you swatted her arm away, huffing in embarrassment.

“So I say we order pizza tonight and Y/N tells us alllll about her afternoon with Larissa,” Christin teased.

You turned away from your friend’s laughter, looking distractedly across the main hall of the museum as you tried to cool your blush. A group of tourists passed the front desk and you looked past them, your gaze falling to a familiar tall blonde passing through the exit. Larissa looked up at that moment and your eyes locked from across the room. Red lips stretched into a devious smile, and just like that she ducked through the door, vanishing from sight.

#larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems #larissa x reader #it's actually embarrassing how long this took me #so so sorry but i hope it's decent #lipstick stains #lipstick stains series

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itsohh · 2 years ago

Text

Death Goes to Disco Part 3

A/N: Female reader, due to all the uh support from here and over at ao3 on what was supposed to be two parts, yeah I’m continuing. Dunno how much we winging it at this point.

Summary: After accepting Price's offer to join 141, you now have to deal with the fact that your new squadmates are the men you had a mindblowing threesome one-night stand with.

Word count: 4147

Warnings: None

AO3 Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Water dripped behind you, remnants of your recently finished shower. Hair still wet your arms leaned on the sink. With one hand you wiped away the steam that had settled on the mirror to reveal your face. To be back at Papakura, to be back at base. It was almost surreal. It had been so long, a lifetime ago. Yet not much has changed, you would be lying if you didn't fall back into your old rhythm. But it would never be the same, all those friends, all your family you had on base. Gone.

Your eyes gazed at yourself, your eyes specifically on the patches on your vest. It was good to wear your flag again. It felt right to have that NZSAS patch instead of the Shadow Company one. Two weeks you spent there. Two weeks of preparation that was almost up. Today was your last training day on base before you had to pack up. Then it would be off to the UK.

"A new chapter." You whispered to yourself and met your own eyes. At the sound, your shoulders relaxed and you pushed off the sink basin. For the first time in what felt like forever, you smiled. Genuinely smiled.

You had thought that they would send you on a commercial flight but you were wrong. Duffle back slung over your shoulder. A groan left your lips as you stretched a bit. You had slept through a decent amount of the flight but now your body was a little sore and stiff. The overly bright led lights had you squint and slowly you walked out of the aircraft and out of the tarmac.

One man stood there patiently waiting.

Price.

"Good to see you accepted my offer, Sergeant." He greeted you with a nod and you walked up to him.

"It was good to have options, sir. Thanks for not killing me." You nodded back and the pair of you started to walk together.

"I should be thanking you for not killing my squad."

"Call it even then sir?"

"Can do. Right, let's get this out of the way. Have you been here before?"

"A few times in the past."

"Do you remember the layout?"

"Enough not to get completely lost." He scratched his beard and nodded.

"Good, I can work with that. You have been assigned a room, I'll show you where that is." He paused and let out a breath. "The walls are rather thick but not completely soundproof. I say this because I happen to be in the room next to yours."

"Does that mean I'll hear your snoring through the wall then?" You couldn't help the way your lips curled up. Price glanced towards you for a moment.

"None of that cheek now." Despite his words, he too has a smile on his face. "Jokes aside we all share a dorm. Try to be considerate of everyone else."

"Will do."

"Good to hear. Right, you can put your stuff in the room when we get there. Laswell wants to have a video call with you."

"Laswell?"

"Back in Las Almas, she was the friend I was talking about. You will get orders from myself, Ghost and her. It's important you get used to her voice. We do training exercises and hired help in SpecGru so get used to the team around you."

"The PMC?"

"That's the one, we do training with and against KorTac."

"Never a dull moment?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"This here's my office." His eyes looked up and made contact with yours. "Always knock before you enter."

"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

"Good." His eyes looked down at the laptop as he opened it. "Maybe you can get Soap to do the same." He grumbled under his breath.

Price fiddled with the computer some more until a call started.

"Kate."

"John."

"Good to hear from you, here with the Sergeant." He moved slightly to the side and positioned the laptop in front of the pair of you.

"Disco, heard good things. You did well in Las Almas." She nodded towards you.

"Just tried to do what I could in a bad situation."

"Not many would do what you did, don't cut yourself short." She had this hard gaze on her. One that screamed not to argue.

"How is Las Almas since we left?"

"In mourning, broken but they will heal. Alejandro is already in the process of rebuilding."

"Shadow Company?" At your question, she glanced at Price but answered regardless.

"With the death of Graves and your absence the company is collapsing. The command chain has been broken and I've had reports of some being bought out and others abandoning their post. Their competitors have been quick to snatch up their contracts."

"What happened to Derek and Pepper?" Your eyes turned to Price for this.

"The men who surrendered with you?" Kate asked and you gave her a single nod.

"From what I gathered they both went back to America and gave up military life. I know one decided to help their husband with a bakery and the other I had recommended to one of my contacts in the FBI." Despite your rather emotionless expression, you couldn't help but relax at the thought. At least you helped them. A knock on Laswell's door had her pause and glance towards it. You could hear the briefest muffled sound through it but weren't able to decipher what was being said.

"Unfortunately I have to cut this short but it's good to have you onboard."

"Good to be here ma'am." She nodded to John and the stream cut.

"I would ask if she was MI6 but she sounded too American." You pushed off the desk.

"CIA, same thing really. Right, now that's out of the way. Go rest up and unpack. Get rid of that jetlag before it settles in. It's also bloody late. Dismissed." You were a little surprised and he sighed when he looked at the clock on the wall.

"Bloody 1am delivery." You heard him grumble under his breath before you left his office.

The room they had assigned you was decently large. In the corner of the room was a queen-sized bed pressed against the wall. Above it was a window covered by a pair of curtains. On each side of the bed was a small little bedside table, one of them had a simple lamp on top. At the foot of the bed was a decently-sided chest. Standing facing towards the bed with your door behind you, there was a desk to the right of you with an office chair.

Another door was to the right, in the middle of the wall which lead to your private bathroom. Next to that door was a set of drawers and a bookcase above it.

All and all, it was a pretty decent room. Sure Hereford was a downgrade from the king bed and suite of a room that you had at Shadow Company but still better than the rather small room you had at Papakura Military Base. Then again, you did have a house just out of town to escape to. Here in England, you didn't have that luxury. Your mind wandered a bit at the thought. Perhaps you should invest in an apartment somewhere, just to get away on the longer breaks. Then you wouldn't have to fly back but wouldn't have to be stuck on base.

A breath came from your nose and you flopped your back onto the bed. Despite the fact you had already napped on the trip over, you couldn't help but feel the true weight of your heavy eyelids. Just for a moment, the rest of your eyes you promised yourself. Only to immediately fall asleep a second later.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Your eyes cracked open with a groan. The thumping against your wall wasn't particularly loud yet it was still loud enough for you to hear. You leaned over to your side and grabbed your phone to see the time. 6am. You had managed to sleep for about five more hours.

Slowly you got off the bed and stretched out your body. You closed the bathroom door which cut off the small echo of thumping against your bathroom wall. Mentally you tried to engrain that into your head. To shut that door every right. The light to your bedroom soon clicked on and you started to unpack.

Most of your clothing was all new, either supplied to you by NZSAS or some of the clothing you had found at your old home. Tucked away in your old closet it had taken a decent amount of washing to get that old clothes smell out but you succeeded regardless.

You hadn't brought a lot of personal items. But there was one picture you brought. A framed picture that had you pause when you picked it up out of your bed.

It was an old picture, very old. It has been taken when you were still a rookie. Your Lieutenant still a Sergeant. She stood next to you with a wide smile on her face. The pair of you were surrounded by your squad mates with equally big grins on their faces. Everyone was covered in mud but you could still see the little red flag that was in your grip.

"Good job rookie, you did well!" You could still remember the praise on her lips and the smile on your then Captain's face. Still caught up in the memory, you placed the picture on your desk. It seemed like such a simpler time, back when everyone was still alive.

Half an hour later with fresh clothes on you clicked open your door only to immediately become face-to-face with the occupant of the door across from you. "Oh hey, Disco right?" He seemed a little surprised to see you but gave you a warm smile regardless.

"Uh yeah, your Gaz? Am I pronouncing that right?"

"Yeah, Kyle if it's easier for you. I don't mind. Are you heading out for breakfast? I'm going there myself if you would like to join."

"Sure, I could use the company. I think I had like a 65% of remember correctly where it is."

"Oh, you have been here before?" He shut the door behind him and the pair of you started to walk together.

"Yeah a few times way back. Normally we used to do training in-house or with the Aussies but on the odd occasion we would come here."

"Must have been a long time ago."

"Yeah, it was."

"Surprised you know the layout at all."

"I try to memorize buildings as much as I can."

"Fair, it can make the difference between life and death." The cafeteria wasn't too far away and soon the pair of you settled into the room. There was a decent amount of people in there and you followed him to the breakfast bar.

"Anything I should avoid?"

"Nah, the food here's pretty good. Just make sure you never get coffee or tea from one of the machines. Not many people use it and I swear it's never been cleaned a single time since I've been here." He gestured over to the machine against the wall.

"Duly noted."

Soon the pair of you had settled into a table in the corner of the room. All tables had a few people at them except the one you sat at. There were a few glances your way but no one said or did anything about it. "Alright, what's with the looks?" You subtly gestured with your head. Gaz looked up for a moment and shrugged.

"Not sure, probably cause you're someone new. It's not too often new operatives, let alone at your rank. Uh." You could see him glance at your shirt but without your identification, he wasn't able to figure it out.

"Sergeant." You said and he nodded and took a bite.

"Didn't keep you at Lietentiant when you jumped aboard?"

"I haven't earned that here. Besides I like being a Sergeant. I'm sure I'll learn a lot under you boys."

"Price is a good teacher and so is Ghost when he speaks up." He nodded. "Speaking of Price I'm surprised he's not up yet, normally he's first to rise."

"Might have got to do with me. I arrived at 0100 hours this morning." Kyle let out a low whistle.

"Damn, no wonder no one saw you come in. Anyway, welcome to the team."

"Thanks, met Laswell. What's her deal?"

"Laswell? She's the one that sends us out, pretty damn good with a rifle herself though."

"And what about you Gaz, what's your deal?"

"Haven't really got one to be honest. As basic as it sounds, I want to do good. Everyone here does."

"In SAS in general or 141?"

"I would say the prior but I don't know everyone so I'll go with the latter." A tray settled down next to Gaz and you looked up to see Price there. A porridge and a coffee.

"Disco, Gaz."

"Captain."

"Sir."

"Hope you managed to get some rest last night." Price nodded to you.

"Not the ideal amount but I'm sure I'll stabilize in a day or so."

"Good, can't have you dealing with sleep deprivation."

"So what's the plan for today?" Gaz asked and Price took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, then those two finally get out of bed, you lot are hitting the mats. I want to find out every weakness Disco here has."

You choked on your food for a second and Price gave you a grin at the edge of his cup. "So we know what to work on."

"Never such thing as too good." You shrugged and Price let out a small chuckle.

"That's the attitude, let's see if you still have it in a couple of hours."

The morning was rather relaxed. Conversation with Price and Gaz wasn't too awkward and you found yourself getting used to it. A sigh left Price's mouth as you all finished up. "Where in the bloody hell are those two?" He huffed.

"Did you want me to check up on them?" Gaz offered and Price's lips curled up and he glanced at you.

"Won't subject you to whatever has them busy. We can get started without them. You happy to spar in that?" He gestured to your plain shirt.

"Sure am."

"What about you Gaz?"

"Ready to go any time."

"Good, right let's get out there."

The indoor gym was a decently sized room. One that you found yourself in the corner of. With all the mats set out, Price stood to the side with his arms crossed.

"Any rules?" You glanced at him as you stretched.

"Try not to injure each other. No permanent injuries. Usual stuff. I'd like you both in one piece." You nodded and relaxed your body as you stepped into place.

"You ready?" You asked and Gaz gave you a nod, his eyes hardening.

"Gimmie what you got."

Instinct took over as the pair of you started. Years of training kicked in at ease and you allowed your body to work reflexively. Gaz wasn't bad, in no way. He played the perfect balance of offensive and defensive. His stamina was one to envy as well. The pair of you ended up in a long dance where neither of you really had the advantage over each other.

The pair of you were in ways, learning about each other. Each other's style, exactly how you fought. So, as Gaz danced with you, you decided to change up the song. Gaz went to punch you with his right arm. Until that moment you had either dodged or blocked. This time was a little different, you ducked under and grabbed his wrist.

With his continued movement, you brought it with you behind his back. Your foot stepped on his back calf forcing him forward. With one hand trapped by you, his other hand shot out to break his fall. However, you didn’t let him fall. Your free arm wrapped around his throat to choke him. It took a few seconds before you felt his slap against your arm and you immediately let go of his throat and stepped off his calf.

Gaz sank properly on his knees and you let go of his wrist once he was stable. “You good?”

“Yeah. You were toying with me.” He coughed with a weak smile.

“I would prefer to call it learning.” You shrugged and held your hand out for him. He slapped his hand into yours and you gave it a decent tug.

“I’d like to see how you would be in the field Sergent.” Price cocked a brow and his eyes moved from yours to the two men who approached the three of you. Soap stretched as he walked and Ghost stalked behind him.

“About time you two got up. Have a late night boys?”

“You could call it that. Sorry for the delay.” Soap spoke and his eyes settled on you. You could practically feel them size up your slightly sweaty body. “Disco, long time no see. What you doing here?” Your eyes glanced from Soap to Ghost.

“Training.” You could practically feel the way Ghost’s eyes narrowed at you.

“Speak of, Soap your up.” Gaz walked to the side of Price and took the bottle of water that sat on the floor. Meanwhile, Soap stretched his body out with a grin on his face.

“Sparing eh? I’ll go easy on you after last time.” He winked. He waved his hands out and took a position opposite you on the mat. Soap was a little different from Gaz, you had seen him work before. He was aggressive, fast to act and destroy defences. Right away you knew you would need to be on the offensive.

“Really?”

“Give me your best.” He winked. The grin on his face was quickly wiped off his face when you immediately jabbed towards him. Soap managed to narrowly miss your punches and jump back. “Right into it I-” You kicked his side and he let out a grunt. Now aware that you weren’t holding back he shut up. With your right arm, you went to punch him but he snatched your wrist. You continued on your moment and pressed into his grip for only a second before you jerked your hand free.

Soap was fast though, now behind you, he wrapped an arm around your throat. Just like Las Almas. There was no hesitation in your movements, you stepped to the side of Soap and grabbed his legs with both arms. Ignoring the hold on your neck you picked him up and slammed him down into the mat, breaking the hold around your neck instantly.

In his slightly stunned state, you pounced on the man. Ankles over his, your hands caught both his wrists and slammed them into the mat. Pinned. “I let you take me last time.” Soap stared up at you, his through bobbing and a light red dusted over his cheeks.

“An’t that the truth.” His bottom lip parted while his eyes landed on yours. He was painfully obviously aroused. You glanced away from him and slowly got off. Just as you had held a hand out for Gaz, you held one out for him. Soap continued to stare at you. You saved your hand impatiently and he snapped out.

“Thanks.” He swallowed and you pulled him up.

“Never underestimate your opponent Johnny.” Ghost glared at the man.

“Yup, fucked that one.” You looked over to Price to see him frowning at his phone.

“Gaz, with me.” His eyes snapped up. “Since you two decided to waste our time today see it as your punishment to make sure Disco is settled in properly.”

“Wait settled in?” Soap started to ask but was brushed off by the wave of Price’s hand. The two men promptly left and you were left with Ghost who had an expressionless look on his face and Soap who looked a little confused but not overly bothered. Both of them stared at you.

“What did the Captain mean, settle in. How long are you staying?”

“She joined 141 Johnny.” Ghost's deadpan voice had John gaping at you for a moment.

“Yeah someone supposedly someone gossiped a bit about Las Almas.” You walked over to your bottle of water.

“You're against that?” Ghost asked and you leaned over to grab your drink.

“No, just curious why go to the trouble.”

“Our reports are thorough. What Price and Laswell make of them is up to them.” Ghost was an enigma in a sense. Johnny was pretty obvious with his opinions and his emotions but when Ghost was like this, you couldn’t quite tell exactly what any of it meant. The pair of you started each other, neither saying a word. There was an uncomfortable silence between the three of you. You had been certain that spending the night with them would be a one-time thing. Something that they most likely thought the same. Then after everything that happened, you knew being face to face with them like this was the last thing they thought would happen.

“So where does Price have you holed up? When did you get here?” Soap finally broke the silence. Bottle in your hand, you relaxed your shoulders.

“The room next to his. I got here at like 0100 hours this morning.” Johnny immediately let out a cough and your eyes shot up.

“The one in between Ghost and his room?”

“I don’t know. It’s opposite Gaz?” You pressed the bottle against your lips and slowly took a drink. While Soap went to compose himself you could feel Ghost's eyes watching you.

“Oh fuck. We uh, sorry if we woke you up aye.”

“It’s fine, I just need to remember to close the bathroom door. ” You shrugged and snapped the bottle closed. “Don’t think Price was too happy about you two being late though.” You placed the bottle back down and readied back into a stance.

“Shit.”

“Ready for another go?” You smiled and he nodded. “Don’t worry, I won’t go too hard on you.”

The morning went rather fast and eventually, the pair of you ended up drenched in sweat. Eventually that lead to Ghost taking over when you took down John for the fifth time in a row. “Not many people can take down Ghost like that.” John slapped you on your back as the three of you walked to the showers.

“The higher they are, the harder they fall or something.” You shrugged. “There's some tall people out there, I’ve learned to use that against them.”

“God and we fall, whats with you and hitting the left side, going to feel this for days.”

“I doubt that aches the least of your worries.” You muttered under your breath. "Your weak on your left side. Seem to slow you down a little more than your right." You spoke up and started to separate into the showers.

“Johnny.” You looked over your shoulder to see that John has continued on with you. Only at the sound of his name did he realise and swerved around to join Ghost to your amusement. The showers on your side were completely empty and you ended up having a rather long shower. Zoned out you didn’t realise how long you truly took until you got out.

With the two men nowhere to be seen, you found your way to the cafeteria. With a quick scan, you managed to locate them. Both of them were at the exact same table that you had shared with Gaz and Price that morning. It made you wonder if there was a specific reason. After you collected your food you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. Looking up your eyes made contact with Johns. With a smile, he gestured for you to join him. Ghost had his mask slightly moved up as he ate. Tucked away in the corner no one else except for you and John could see the small stubble on his face. Adverting your gaze you sat down next to Soap.

“So Price and Gaz are out on a mission together. Don’t know when they will be back.” Johnny leaned back and you realised that he had already finished his lunch while Ghost had little left of his.

"After you finish lunch we move out." Ghost said much to both your surprise and John's.

"Where they sending us to this time? Surprised they aren't just shipping you off by yourself."

"Someone has to keep you in check."

"Ah Ghost that's just your way of saying you'd miss me." He grinned.

"Greenland. Prepared for the cold." Ghost ignored John and you nodded. "We will brief more in Price's office."

#ghost x reader x soap #ghost x reader #soap x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #call of duty

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pianokantzart · 6 months ago

Note

Wouldn't releasing a Sonic movie at or around the same time as a Mario movie basically kill hype for Sonic? I mean last year when both franchises released platformers on the same weekend Sonic did not do very well, and there's been a longstanding fandom rivalry (though there is a decent amount of fandom overlapping) No matter how successful Sonic is, it simply cannot be anywhere near as popular as Mario.

Well, the game space and the movie space are not quite the same. The thing about Mario games is that 99 times out of 100 they're going to be well polished and fun to play. Sonic games have a little bit more of a "wait and see what the reviews say" element to them.

But even with that in mind, I imagine that they'd only be able to properly compete with Mario if they hitch their wagon to Nintendo's marketing team, because if there is one thing that Nintendo is incredibly good at, it's marketing.

Remember the Superbowl plumbing commercial and the plumbing website that updated as we got closer to the movie's release? S-tier advertising.

So if both companies lean into the Sonic vs Mario rivalry, I think some real magic could happen that would boost both movies' performances at the box office.

#pixiedustandfairypowers #askbox #super mario bros #sonic the hedgehog #mario movie #sonic movie #but that's just my thoughts #I know nothing about business I just know what I'd like to see

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sentientgolfball · 3 months ago

Text

Ghoul Files: Aurora

The Files are basically little living documents of how I headcanon/characterize each ghoul. I've made one for every ghoul (yes every ghoul) and I'll be slowly uploading them alphabetically by era just for the hell of it.

Check out her design here !

Name: Aurora

Element: Multi-ghoul

Pronouns: she/her

Powers: As a multi, she has a connection to all the elements. The connection is nowhere near as strong as a single-element ghoul, however. This means she is only capable of small party tricks such as lighting and snuffing candles or creating a puff of air. Aurora finds air and water magic easiest to use. Earth is the most difficult for her.

Love language (giving): She genuinely feels so fulfilled when she makes people blush, so she adapts to whoever she’s around. Quality time is a big one for her though, alongside words of affirmation.

Love language (receiving): Words of affirmation and physical touch. She melts when others go out of their way to encourage her and keep her close.

Pairings: When not with the whole pack, she can typically be found in the company of the other ghoulettes. Besides them, she is attached at the hip with Phantom. They were summoned back to back which resulted in them basically being a pair of bonded cats. They are partners in crime with a Jessie and James type of dynamic.

Influential Others: Swiss and Sunshine are two ghouls she really looks up to. Sunny was the one to teach her how to play and how to sing for the band and just generally took care of her for the first few weeks of her arrival. She admires Sunshine and works hard to make her proud. When Sunny had to leave for her trip to a smaller branch of the church Swiss took over for her. The two became really close and Aurora goes to him first when she has questions about the world Topside.

Kinds of People Liked: She feels most comfortable with people who can find joy in even the simplest of things. She also likes people who are patient since she’s always burning with questions.

Kinds of People Disliked: People who can only ever see the bad in anything. She hates the way it brings the energy in a room down, she does have some connection to quintessence after all. She also just absolutely hates people who try to pester her. She can be stubborn, once she’s made her mind up that’s it. If she says no she means no. If she asks to be left alone and she’s still getting bothered she is not afraid to show off why she keeps her claws so sharp.

Time in the Pits: Aurora was a Bloodletter. She would fight and kill for other ghouls' entertainment. A decent amount of Bloodletters actually choose to enter the arena, it gives them shelter and food…if they survive the day's matches. However, Aurora had no choice. She was found by an arena owner as a kit, abandoned and left to die for being a runt. When the arena owner figured out she was a multi ghoul, they decided to keep her. Raise her and hone her skills in each element basically as a way to rig the competition and get more coin. Aurora was good at what she did.

Sense of Humor: Dirty jokes. The second she found out there were words and phrases that were considered inappropriate she went full send. Swiss had never been more proud.

Basic Nature: She's a little quiet when first meeting people, a bit reserved . She gets nervous around new people. Once she’s comfortable though, she’s confident. Bold. She knows how to get the things she wants. She cares a lot about people though, she just doesn’t admit it. She will claw someone’s eyes out if asked.

Compulsions/Habits: She plays with her hair when she’s nervous. It's part of the reason she likes to wear it in a braid. She also has a habit of scratching things, so she’s taken to painting her claws to remind her not to. A bit of a hoarder. She gets attached to the things she owns and has a hard time getting rid of anything.

Fears: She’s afraid that her new life in the Ministry is too good to be true. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Also bugs. The only bugs she isn’t afraid of are butterflies and those really pretty, fuzzy moths.

Attitude Towards Own Body: She absolutely adores herself. She takes every opportunity she has to dress up, add color to her hair, or do makeup. She looks in the mirror and thinks “Wow! Look how pretty!”

Sees Self As: A winner.

Hobbies: She tries a lot to find what she really enjoys doing. Right now, the biggest thing is crochet. She loves to make little things to wear, decorate her space with, and give to the pack. She’s also taken up sewing for similar reasons. She likes things that will keep her hands busy.

Pastimes: She likes to watch random YouTube videos with Phantom. She doesn’t really get it, but listening to them explain things is fun. She also likes to go exploring the forest. The stream at the heart is her favorite spot to slip away to.

Collections: Crystals. She stops at a metaphysical shop at every tour location to get a new one. She adores the shiny rocks.

Reading Materials Preferred: YA fiction. She loves the fantasy elements and appreciates that the story will almost always have a happy ending.

Most Prized Possession: The robe she was given when first summoned. It’s somehow retained the scent of the other ghouls and Copia. It was also the first thing she’s ever gotten that was hers and no one else’s. She’ll take it out and wrap herself in it if she’s having a rough time.

Favorite Colors: pastel pink and blue.

Favorite Foods: Big sweet tooth, even more than an average ghoul. If she eats anything she has to follow it up with something sweet. She keeps a small dish on her nightstand that’s always full of little candies. Her favorite sweet treat is strawberry crunch cake.

General Likes: dancing, car rides, horror/paranormal movies, self-care days with the other ghouls

General Dislikes: coffee, clowns/marionettes, totally quiet rooms, the feeling of denim

Is Seen By Others As: An eager little sprite who brings energy into everything she does.

Typical First Impression: Princess-like and quiet. Bit of a shy little thing. Probably wouldn’t dare to hurt a fly…wait why are her claws so sharp?

Morning Routine: She wakes up and gets her chores done as fast as ghouly possible so she has the rest of the day to do whatever with. Like she skips breakfast so often that Aether and Swiss have added it to their routine to find her and bring her something to eat. She does wake up early but that’s because she takes a lot of time to get ready. She likes to do her makeup and hair a different way each day despite the mask that’s a part of her uniform.

Evening Routine: Similar to the morning, she takes a long time to get ready for bed. She has to shower and then do a complicated skincare routine. She likes to pamper herself. She refuses to sleep without doing it. She could’ve just gotten done fucking someone’s brain out and she’ll still go do it. She always makes sure to give everyone a goodnight kiss before going to her room.

Strongest Character Trait: Her optimism. She may struggle with leftover feelings from the Pit, but she genuinely tries her best to see the bright side of things. She sees the good in others. She sees the good in everything.

Weakest Character Trait: She’s closed off when it comes to her negative feelings. She refuses to tell anyone but Phantom when she’s having a bad day. She likes to remain the happy-go-lucky ghoul people see her as. She knows having negative emotions is normal and healthy, but she feels like she’s letting people down when she has them.

Mental/Emotional blocks: She tends to bring it upon herself to make people happy. She was an entertainer after all. This is more so out of an effort to keep the negativity away by surrounding herself with positive vibes. This has manifested in her following her packmates around when her little bit of quintessence picks up on it. Most of the time the others welcome the company of her, but she’s occasionally been bitten by Dew when he’s in a particular mood. This only makes her double down. He secretly appreciates it.

Chores/other job: She genuinely enjoys her job of helping to keep the chapel clean and proper. She likes the silly little repetitive tasks, it gives her time to think to herself. It’s basically her own little meditation. Plus, she thinks the stained glass is gorgeous and she takes pride in knowing she helps keep it clean and shining.

Long Term Goals: She hasn’t been around Topside long enough to have very many goals besides “survive the tour” but she has been keeping a journal while on the road to help her sort out some identity stuff. Right now though, she seems interested in learning how to develop her powers more. She wants to know what else she can do with them besides take a life.

Present Problems: She feels like she lacks a real personality because she spent so long in survival mode in the Pits. She’s struggling with letting the pack see her bad days because she’s scared they’ll cast her out.

One Line Characterization: Aurora is a cheerful, confident ghoulette who loves to explore the world she’s been summoned into.

Room description: At a glance, her room looks messy, but looking closer it's obvious that it's well organized, she just has a lot of stuff. Her bed is filled with blankets and plushies. It's very bright and colorful. She uses LED strips as lighting because she likes to change the color to fit her mood. Her window sill is lined with her favorite crystals and a potted snapdragon flower.

Summoning: She was summoned right before Phantom. She was very on edge being surrounded by a bunch of ghouls and a man with strange paints. She was a second away from attacking when he started to approach her, but then she felt a tug in her mind from the ghoul with the strange silver mask that made her falter. Once she understood what had happened she was instantly clinging to Copia and her new packmates. To anyone on the outside, it looks like she adjusted to life Topside in record time, but to Phantom, it is obvious she’s still getting the hang of things.

NSFW

Favorite position: She’s tiny sure, but she loves it when she gets to stand over her partner. She likes them on their knees and she likes sitting in their lap.

Dom/sub: She’s kind of a bratty pillow princess. She prefers receiving much more than giving. She’s not bratty in a “i'm not going to listen” but in a “I’m going to act uninterested and bored the whole time” way. Though, she does have her moments.

Risk: She’s really uncomfortable with things that are going to result in pain. She doesn't care about public sex though, if someone wants to play she’ll play.

Kinks: She’s super into sensation play. With her connection to multiple elements, her physiology can change slightly depending on the weather and environment. She enjoys discovering what the most sensitive parts of each element are. She does have a bit of a boredom thing. Like she will paint her nails or be texting while her partner is trying so so hard to get a reaction out of her. Exhibitionist. Oh does she love getting put on display. She knows she’s pretty and people should look at her.

Aftercare: She’s a big cuddle bug afterward. She is going to wrap herself around her partner and not stop purring, not even when she falls asleep. She requires a minimum of ten kisses.

Noise level: Loud. Very loud. Not very talkative, but she is not going to try to hide a single thing. She likes letting her partner know just how much she’s enjoying herself. Of course, that’s only if they can get her started.

Surprise: She’s really into outside sex. Specifically, outside in the middle of the night with a clear view of the stars and the moon. She really couldn’t tell you what it is, something about it makes her feel like there’s a million eyes on her.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #golfball writes #ghoul files #aurora ghoulette #ghoul headcanons

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