#Like it was a full on 'he CLEARLY ships it and it is CLEAR his endgame is to break up with Jester so she will run to Caleb'

[kozzax]

opened the alastor tag. it's full of alastor shipping. closed the alastor tag. screamed.

[wardensantoineandevka]

The campaign has been actually rather light on the ship warring and discourse, for many reasons, and it seems to be finally turning into those waters. But, at least we're not yet at the point of creating giant posts of screenshot projecting onto Travis's every expression to "prove" he supports OP's preferred ship yet, so I guess we're still fine.

[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

[sanguineterrain]

I am FERAL over your knight Jason thought. FERAL!!! Okay check this out: so Jason's ignoring reader because he feels guilty right? Maybe he tried to give them back but the king wouldn't allow it. But maybe the reader misunderstands and thinks they're not doing their "duties" so they make dinner and breakfast and wash his clothes and basically act like a perfect spouse. How would Jason react? 👀

Dear god... I feel another series coming on...

Idkidk, their dynamic is just really interesting to me! it's probably gonna be a bit of a slow burn here. Feel free to send more thoughts about them. I am rotating these two like a rotisserie chicken in my brain.

knight!jason todd x gn!reader. ambiguous time period but just assume it's olden times *gestures vaguely*. tw arranged marriage/forced relationship but it's complicated! jason is full of angst and self-loathing but he's a sweetie as per usual. original post for context.

****

The soldier—Jason—has said four words since you've arrived.

The first was "here," which he said whilst handing you a mug of milk. He didn't look at you as he said it, and that morning, he left for a five-day long station. You only know that because he said, after handing you the milk, "I've been stationed."

You realized it was five days when you heard his horse galloping towards the house... five days later.

You haven't initiated conversation because though you're a commoner, and no one ever had much hope for you to become anything but an old spinster, you know not to challenge knights.

But this is fucking ridiculous.

"Do you like veal?" you ask on your fourteenth day here.

Jason is about to leave, his boots half laced. He freezes at your question and looks up.

You stand tall, chin up. This is a normal question. A question a wife would ask her husband, except you're not a wife, and you're pretty sure this soldier isn't a husband either.

"I like veal," he says carefully, slowly. "Would you like me to fetch some from the market?"

Now, this is where it gets tricky. When the king summoned you, he made it clear that you were expected to care for Jason under his rules. You don't know how to navigate this world. You know what couples in your village do, but you don't know what's expected of you here.

"Actually, I..." Jason looks at you. His eyes are very green. He has a surprisingly sweet face under his helmet. "Actually, I was wondering if I could go. On my own."

"Oh."

You brace yourself for arguing or yelling. True, he hasn't raised his voice once, but he also hasn't said much at all. It's like living with a ghost.

"Yes, of course. Of course you can go." He fishes out a pouch of coins and gives them to you. You take it slowly, waiting for him to realize his mistake. He doesn't.

"Thank you," you say.

He nods and watches you walk.

"Wait."

You stop. Here it comes.

"There's a cargo ship in port today. The guards rotate at noon."

He leaves before you can form a thought. You hold the coins, watching blankly as the door shuts behind him. His horse whinnies, and then he's gone.

The market isn't far from the cottage. It's fantastic to be outside again. No one's noticed your absence, clearly, but that's alright. You've never expected more.

You buy a good cut of veal and potatoes and carrots and apples. Jason gave you more money than any cut of meat would cost, so surely he assumed you would buy other food. Why else would he give you so much?

A ship's horn drones in the distance. You're feeling some oranges when you remember his words. A cargo ship.

The sun is almost at its highest point.

"Oi! Either buy 'em or stop feelin' 'em!" the seller snaps.

You roll your eyes and move on from the orange stand. You can see the horizon of where the sky meets the sea from here. Any moment, the guards will change, and the ship will be...

You stop. Was Jason hinting at your escape?

No, he couldn't have been! That's preposterous. Why would he want you gone? The king took you for a reason.

And where would you go anyway? Once you leave, you'd be a criminal forever. You couldn't make a home on your own. And who knows what could happen in between? Pirates, enemy soldiers, anybody could snatch you up.

This must've been a test. A test to see if you would run. That's why he agreed to you going so easily.

No, your escape can't be planned now. Not when you're so obviously uncomfortable, and Jason knows it.

You ignore the ship and go home with your purchases. You spend the rest of the afternoon preparing veal stew. You warm leftover bread over the fire and set a pot of butter on the table.

Jason comes in louder than he has before, humming quietly. You perk up at the sound, happy for the lack of silence.

You set a bowl of stew at his chair and wait by the fire. As soon as he enters the kitchen, the humming stops.

"Welcome home," you say, wringing your hands. "I made supper."

Jason glances at the table, then back at you.

"You came back," he says.

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask, face neutral as you cut the bread into chunks.

"That—did the ship come?"

"Yes."

Jason sits. His face is dirty from training.

"I bought more than veal," you say, and hand him the pouch. "I hope that's alright. We—there were no more potatoes."

He takes the pouch, rubbing the string tied around the top. "You went to the marketplace... and came back."

It's not a question, but it sounds like there might be one behind it.

"Certainly," you say. "I'm loyal to you, Jason. I serve you."

He looks up, blinking rapidly. Then he looks back at his stew.

Oh, right. He's waiting for you to ask permission to sit.

"May I join you?" you ask.

Jason flinches. "You don't... you don't have to ask. I would never stop you from eating."

The words hang in the air. It's like neither one of you can speak right.

You watch him, and he watches you as you serve yourself and sit on the opposite side of the table. Jason takes the first bite, and you eat right after.

"Is the supper satisfactory? Have I done well?" you ask.

Jason stops chewing and sets his spoon down. You're struck by his shift in demeanor. You worry for a moment you've screwed up something as dim-wittingly simple as stew.

His eyes are sad as they fall on you. It's akin to grief, the pain he wears, but you don't know why he's grieving. You silently offer him more bread, pushing it toward him. He takes it.

"Yes," he says quietly and eats another spoonful. "You did. Thank you for supper."

Jason cleans his bowl three times. You have no stew leftover, which pleases you.

But as soon as Jason finishes eating, he gets up, rinses his bowl, and wordlessly leaves.

You don't see him for the rest of the night.

Somehow, you feel lonelier than when you weren't speaking.

[innerfare]

Killer Relationship Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Killer

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Killer fell first and fell harder. He didn’t realize it was happening at first, he was just as shocked as you were to realize he turned into a rabid dog when anyone so much as mentioned your name, fighting anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. Even more shocking was the sweeter side you brought out of him. 

You had no idea what was happening in Killer’s head. To you, Killer was just a crew mate, and not just any crew mate: the first mate. You had the wherewithal to clock the man in the mask as emotionally unavailable and that was that. Sure, you often went for drinks together, but only with the whole crew, and yeah, you laughed at the same jokes and ate the same meals, but it was as crew mates, the lines clearly drawn and the knowledge that he was dangerous always in the back of your head. 

But then he started doing things for you. 

He started making a different side at dinner because the one he was serving everyone else wasn’t something you would eat. He started giving you the best piece of dessert, much to Kid’s chagrin. He started stepping aside when it came time to board the Victoria Punk to allow you to board first. He started scaring off men at pubs and taverns before they ever got the change to be rejected by you. Oh, and he started intervening in all of your fights. 

You take the fighting bit personally, never having considered he was into you. You think he’s just underestimating you, thinking you can’t hold your own in a fight. This leads you to confront him one night, more than prepared to duel him to prove your worth as a pirate and warrior. He shocks you by coming clean and confessing his feelings for you, though not exactly in a romantic way. It’s more like he’s pissed off by your accusations and snaps at you that he can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. He storms off afterwards. 

It takes you a few days to process what he told you because it makes you see him in a completely different light. Gone is the cold-blooded killer you shared a ship with, here is the man who has been taking care of you in small ways without you even realizing. And the most shocking part is how the idea of him stopping makes your chest ache. You grew accustomed to his affection without even realizing. 

You wait until around midnight, when you know he goes into the shower alone, and follow him in. He lets you see him without his mask, and you share your first kiss. That’s that, and from that point forward, the two of you are an item. 

The shower becomes the main place the two of you spend alone time together. Killer finds it easier to let his guard down. He’s going to take his mask off anyway to wash up, which makes it easier to do with you around. He’s able to convince himself it’s not a big deal, and the fact that you’re so cool about it helps. His face is a secret the two of you share, as are his kisses and kind words and difficult past. 

You’re his safe space and he’s yours. 

Don’t expect him to stop intervening in your fights now that you share his bed every night. He claims it’s because you’re too slow and he got to the enemies first, or because you looked like you already had your hands full, but you know the real reason he jumps in. 

He always keeps one of the counters clear in the kitchen so you can sit on it while he cooks. Everything that lands on the table is tasted by you first. 

Merciless teasing by Kid (he’s just jealous). 

After he eats his fruit, you realize not all of his laughs are the same, and you learn to read his emotions based on the different laughs, speaking a language he hates but is oh so grateful to you for learning. 

This is the sort of thing your relationship is built on- subtleties. It’s what made him fall in love with you and it’s the reason he would kill or die for you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[piastree]

Is It Over Now? | LN4

lando norris x reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)

— Part 2

Previous Part | Next Part

Summary : Y/N and Lando try to clear up the rumors about them. But things go downhill when Lando's actions end up causing more trouble for Y/N, leaving her facing hate comments from everyone.

landonorris added a story

luisinhaoliveira99 and landonorris

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luisinhaoliveira99 ❤️

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username OMGGG YOU GUYS R SO CUTE

username oh i thought lando and y/n are back together :(

username what u expect??

username THE HARD LAUNCHING????? OMFFF LANDO LUISA

username luisa girl<3 i love her with lando

username CONGRATS BOTH OF U❤️

username whoever say lando hasn't moved on from y/n must see this lol

landonorris added a story

yourusername added a story

maxfewtrell definitely hate it bc u hate drama yourusername ???? lmao max yourusername out of the context maxfewtrell haha it's been a while hope u doing well yn

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f1wagupdates Lando has been rumored to be close to Luisa for nearly 3 months, yet there's still uncertainty about their relationship status. While photos of them spending time together suggest more than just a friend. Then came the surprising news when Lando and Y/N both posted photos aboard a yacht, sparking speculation of them back together. However, recent social media posts from Lando and Luisa show that they are getting intimate, emphasizing that Lando and Luisa are dating. Will Lando stick with his old flame or go for someone new?

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username Honestly, i ship Lando and Luisa so hard! They look so cute together❤️

username I'm here for races, but Lando's love life has me more invested than the races itself

username i just want him end up with whoever makes him happy

username team Luisa all the way! She and Lando look so happy together

username y/n, darling, do yourself a favor and find someone who actually wants to be with you. Lando's clearly moved on to bigger and better things

username y/n still chasing after Lando like a lost puppy? it's time to accept reality and move on girl

username yeah typical attention seeker always trying so hard to stay relevant

username posting the same vibe photos as lando lol such a pathetic move y/n

username you might not know the full story, just because she posted the same photos doesn't mean she's trying to start rumors

yourusername

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yourusername period cravings

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username your period cravings post is hilarious and so relatable😫

yourbff so ur period cravings are shopping for foods and makeup?

yourusername yepp<3

username you are so cuteeee

username is one year not enough for you to move on from lando?

username stop creating drama you need to grow up🙄

username he's happy with Luisa, give it up

username lando found someone better, and you're just embarrassing yourself at this point🤦‍♀️

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Thankyou for reading! Feel free to comments anything<3 see u in next chapter xx

taglist: @c-losur3 @tania2748 @starz4me1 @celestialend @booksandflowrs @xlinxdax0704

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

The Prince - Chapter Eight

A/N: Hello, friends! I'm afraid today I bring more stress in this chapter. I hope you are all still enjoying the story so far. Thank you for all your comments, likes, and reblogs. Only two more chapters to go!

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 4.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader return to King's Landing, where for one glimmering moment it seems like all might be well, until an unexpected visitor arrives to shake that hope.

Tag List: Please see comments! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Previous Chapter

Jace is not in bed when you wake up. For the last three mornings, he has been the first thing you see when you open your eyes. Sitting up in the fluffy bed that the two of you had shared the night before, you glance around his room. It’s colder than normal in here, as well as empty, and the door to the balcony is wide open.

You grab a robe and wrap it around yourself quickly, making for the open doors. Jace stands along the railing, his back to you. He’s dressed, a first in the last few days, but you’re relieved that it’s only in his sleep clothes, not his full riding gear. He doesn’t hear you until you come up behind him, until you're wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Morning,” he says, turning to face you and giving your lips a soft kiss.

“It’s freezing out here, Jace,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re freezing,” you say, rubbing a hand over his chest. He laughs as he takes that hand, kissing it softly. He keeps his eyes on the horizon, a slight frown on his face.

“What is it?” you ask.

“My mother sent a raven,” he says, his jaw tense.

“Better than a dragon,” you say, and you smile when he does.

“She says I must return.”

“We knew this day was coming,” you say.

“She also asked that you return, too.” He turns to you then, taking your hands in his. He looks you over for a moment, a contemplative look in his eyes. “My first thought was to ignore her summons.”

“Jace,” you say softly.

“But I figured she would send a dragon then. So I thought about you and I getting on Vermax and heading for Pentos.”

“Jace!” you say, eyes wide. He smiles.

“I figured you’d say as much.”

“As much fun as running away with you sounds,” you say, “You belong in King’s Landing. You have a throne waiting for you.”

“What if I don’t want it anymore?” he asks quietly. You frown at him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to kiss him softly.

“I’d say you’re not thinking straight because we’ve been fucking nonstop for the past three days."

“Can you blame me?” he asks, his arm going around your waist.

“No, and I can’t even believe I’m saying it, either, but we have to return to King’s Landing. We have to face whatever fate awaits us.”

“Not right away though,” he says, pulling you flush against him.

“No,” you say with a smile, “Not right away.”

Later that morning, Jace mounts Vermax and flies back to King’s Landing. He hates that you have to part in Dragonstone, that you have to take a ship back. He wishes that he could have just one more moment with you, because as he approaches his home, a strange, paranoid feeling washes over him. He’s always been hopeful for your future, and maybe it just has to do with the fact that so much has changed between the two of you, but he feels that hope slipping.

When he gets to the castle, his first stop is his mother’s chambers. The look she gives him when he walks in is part relief at seeing him, and part disappointment.

“Mother,” he says, stopping just inside of the doorframe, hands behind his back.

“Hello, Jace,” she says, “I trust your flight was well?”

“It was.”

“Good,” she says, giving him a smile that chills him. “Sit down, please.” She motions to the table in her chambers and sits down after him.

“Mother—”

“Just, give me a moment,” she says with a shake of her head. “I want to make sure I understand clearly.

"Baela discovered that there is something between you and Lady Y/N, so she sends Y/N to Dragonstone, so that she could clear things up with you, after which, you follow to Dragonstone and hide out there for three days.”

“That sounds accurate,” he says with a sigh. Rhaenyra raises her eyebrow at him.

“You've insulted Baela," she says. Jace drops his head.

“That was never my intention.”

“Regardless, the insult has landed."

“Where is Baela?” he asks. "I saw Moondancer was gone."

“Driftmark. She should be back in a few days.”

“And have you thought any more about my request?” he asks. Rhaenyra sighs, looking at him blankly.

“You’ve put me in a tough position, Jace. You’ve put Y/N in a worse one.”

“What do you mean?’ he asks with a shake of his head.

“If I grant you leave to marry her, all is well. But you’ve bedded her,” she says, making him blush as he clenches his jaw. “If I deny you, what becomes of her? Of the child she may bare you?” He doesn’t have an answer because he has been denying the reality of the matter to himself.

“Tell me, did you do this to force my hand?” she asks.

“No!” he says quickly, “No. I love her.”

“You have to plead your case with Baela, Jace. But," she says, sighing as she meets his eyes, "If she agrees, you have my blessing."

The trip back to King's Landing took as long as the one to Dragonstone, but it feels infinitely shorter. You had two days to prepare yourself for what you will face when you returned, enough time, you thought, to sort out your own feelings. But the entire time, your head and your heart were fighting over the right path.

As you step off the ship and on to steady ground, you decide to let whatever is coming come. Whether that means getting sent back to the Vale, your reputation getting destroyed, or all your dreams coming true.

Inside the Red Keep, your first thought is to find Jeyne and apologize for leaving so abruptly. It had been so early when you left, you hadn't had time to find her and tell her what was happening.

You take a few more steps into the Keep when someone slips out of the shadows, causing your heart to leap.

“Let’s turn around and go back to Dragonstone,” Jace whispers in your ear, placing a soft hand on your arm. Your racing heart seems to settle to its normal pounding at seeing him.

“We've already discussed what will happen if we do that,” you say with a smile. Jace glances around the large hallway before taking your hand and pulling you into an empty study. The minute the door closes, he pins you to the doorframe, his lips crashing into yours. You laugh into the kiss, a hand on his waist, keeping him close to you.

“Your Highness,” you say, breaking away to catch your breath.

“Don’t start with that,” he says, the smile on his face never leaving.

“I need to get back into character,” you say innocently. He kisses you again.

“I like you just the way you are.”

“We can’t be seen together, you know,” you say. His smile does fall a little then, realizing that you are true to your word. Now that you’ve returned to King’s Landing, you will have to go back to playing your parts.

Simply put, there is no more time for this fairytale.

"I have news," he says.

"Oh?"

"My mother has given her blessing, officially, as long as Baela gives hers first."

"Jace," you say quietly, so stunned you take a step back from him. He smiles, pulling you right back.

"That's good news, right?" he asks.

"It's wonderful news," you say, now breathless.

"Well then look more excited," he says, making you laugh.

"I can't trust this hopeful feeling inside of me," you say, meeting his eyes. He smiles, brushing your hair back behind your ear with a gentle frown.

"I know what you mean."

"Do you think she--"

"I don't know," he say, shaking his head. "I don't know."

"Well," you say, holding his hands. "It is good news. We can be hopeful, but also realistic."

"How do we do that?" he asks with a laugh.

"We keep pretending that nothing has changed," you say. "And wait for the moment that we might actually be able to be ourselves."

“I don’t like this,” he says. You cup his cheek, your thumb brushing softly.

“I don’t either,” you say. You need to break apart, make your way to your separate chambers. “I love you,” you say, watching him look back to you. It’s the best way you can say goodbye right now.

“I love you,” he says. “I’ll see you soon.” You nod and lean in to kiss his soft lips once more.

Once you've settled into your room, greeting Brigitta, who gives you a knowing look, you head for Jeyne's quarters. When she opens the door, the look she gives you, deadpanned with a raise eyebrow, only makes you laugh. Sudden excitement fills you, knowing that she might share in your joy.

“You know, I didn’t come all this way, just for you to flee to Dragonstone for days,” she says, turning from the door, leaving you to follow her into the room.

“I didn’t flee, I was sent.”

“Within reason, I think,” Jeyne says, turning to face you. “If my fiancé was seeing someone behind my back—”

“Jeyne.” She studies your face, the look on it.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Rhaenyra has officially given her blessing. As long as Baela agrees, Jace and I can be together.”

"She has?" she asks, taking your hand.

"Yes," you say with a smile.

"Oh Y/N, that's wonderful. But will Baela agree?" she asks. Your smile falls a little then.

"I don't know. Jace doesn't either."

"She left the same day he did, you know," Jeyne says, guiding you into her room, sitting down next to you. "Rhaena thought she might be heading to meet the two of you in Dragonstone." You take in a breath, realizing how lucky it was that she didn't, that you got to have those few days alone with Jace.

"Should the fact that she didn't make me hopeful or not?"

"I don't know her that well," she says. "Rhaena does seem to be cooling off a little, though."

"Good," you say, setting your jaw.

"It's okay, you know," she says, leaning forward until you meet her eyes. "It's okay that you tried to find your happiness with Jace. Even if it doesn't work out in the end, you had this time together. It matters." You don't have the words, so you just give her a smile, fighting off the tears and nerves that build inside of you.

"So," she says, changing the subject to lighter matters, "Tell me how it was."

You don't see Jace the rest of that day. Jeyne invites you back to her quarters for a private dinner, and on your return to your quarters, you wonder if he might be waiting. If you might pick up old habits.

But when you approach your door, he is not there. You try to hide your disappointment as you settle in for the night. Brigitta goes about laying out your nightwear, and you are just about to change when a knock comes from the door.

You answer it, foolishly hoping its Jace, but instead find a member of the Kingsguard waiting.

"Lady Y/L/N, your presence is requested in the throne room immediately."

"Oh. Yes. Very well," you say, anxiety creeping in. This is to be the moment then, when you find out what your future will hold.

As you walk down to the throne room, your heart thuds. Jeyne appears at the opposite end of the hallway. She has a soft smile on her lips, too, but there is the same uncertainty there, too.

When you walk into the throne you, when you spot the Iron Throne, you aren’t sure you’re breathing, not sure what you’re seeing fully, until Jeyne stops in her steps, gasping quietly.

Standing in front of the throne is Barun Blacktyde, your former fiancé.

The world blurs around you, fading into the distance. Ringing fills your ears. Sweat builds at your brow. All you can see is Barun, his tall figure, corded with muscles, and the cruelest expression on his face.

“Hello, Y/N,” Barun says, meeting your gaze, a wicked smile on his face.

“Lo-Lord Blacktyde,” you say, your feet stuck to the floor. Jeyne doesn’t move any further, but her hand brushes yours, a gentle, quiet reminder that she’s here. The gesture is sweet, but useless. She had been there when the arrangement was made in the first place, and couldn’t do anything to keep you from him.

“Thank you for joining us, Lady Arryn, Y/N,” Rhaenyra says. Her tone is firm, and you break your gaze from Barun to look at her. She sits upon the Iron Throne, a strained, tight-lipped expression on her face. It is only when you look towards her that you realize Jace is at her side, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword, his face pale.

“Perhaps the two of you can shed a little light on this situation,” Rhaenyra continues. Jeyne takes your hand fully in hers, stepping forward twice, just enough to recognize her queen, but still stay far from Barun.

“Apologies, Your Grace,” Jeyne says, “But we are as confused as you are. It has been years since either of us have seen the Lord Blacktyde.”

“I’ve come to collect what was promised to me,” Barun says, his voice harsh, as if this is an argument he has repeated to Rhaenyra already.

“Who was promised to you,” Rhaenyra says, her voice tight, “Lord Blacktyde claims that he is betrothed to Y/N,” she says, turning to the two of you. If it wasn’t for Jeyne’s grip on your hand, you might have run, might have fainted, so scared are you in that moment.

“That was years ago,” Jeyne says immediately, watching Barun as he paces the room, eyeing the two of you, a predator stalking his prey. “And the betrothal fell through when Lord Blacktyde married another.”

“Lady Blacktyde died two months back,” Barun replies, startling you at how close he has gotten. He still stays a step away, constantly moving, but his focus is solely on you. You won’t quiver before him, and keep your eyes ahead, keep them on Rhaenyra. If you look to Jace, you know you will break.

“My condolences for your loss, Lord Blacktyde. But if what Lady Arryn says is true—”

“Y/N is unmarried, is she not?” he asks, and this time he is closer, just a step from you. The smell of sea salt and sweat cling to him. You straighten, hoping to move inconspicuously away from him.

Rhaenyra glances at Jace before answering, “Not presently, no.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that deal is void,” Jeyne says, dropping your hand to move closer to Barun, seamlessly pushing you behind her. “You broke it when you married Lady Blacktyde.”

“Is the Vale so eager to lose allies?” Barun asks lowly. Jeyne smiles, devoid of any joy.

“Are you threatening me, My Lord?” Jeyne asks.

“I only mean that the deal was brokered to forge an alliance with our two great houses. That something should change that—”

“You changed it already when you married,” you say, turning to look at him. Fear still resides within you, but so does a growing anger. He seems to have an equal look of displeasure on his face.

“So, she does speak,” he says, sizing you up.

“Our agreement has ended,” you say, “If you wish for it to be reinstated, I suggest you plea your case to my cousin, instead of coming in and demanding that which does not belong to you.”

“You dare tell me—”

“An excellent idea, Y/N,” Rhaenyra says, standing from the throne. “Lord Blacktyde, you've come into my home uninvited, I suggest you rethink your style. I shall offer you boarding here until an agreement can be made between you and House Arryn.” She looks over at you with a withering stare.

“I’m sure the pair of you have plenty to do,” she says. Words fail you, but Lady Arryn steps up, understanding the queen’s signal.

“We do, Your Majesty.”

“Off you go, then.”

Jeyne doesn’t waste a moment. Before even the guards have stepped up to guide Barun to his rooms, she grabs your arm. As she drags you out of the throne room, you look towards Jace. His face is ashen, his head hung low.

“Come on,” Jeyne says, pulling you after her. Neither of you say anything on the march back to her chambers. When she closes the doors behind you, she locks it tightly.

“Jeyne,” you say, breathless, “How did he know I was here?”

“I don’t know. Spies in the Vale?” she muses. There is fear on her face, which only makes the fear inside of you grow. So many thoughts fill your head, but nothing you can make sense of. A plan to escape rattles around. What Barun might take instead of you. But mostly, you think of Jace and the look on his face when he realized what was happening.

“Jeyne,” you begin, your tears from before wallowing up. She is by your side in a moment, her hands on your arms. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she says, “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out together. I promise you.” You nod, not fully believing her.

Jace decides to stop fighting sleep when the sun is visible from the window in his room. He rolls over with a groan as his maids enter. They curtsy to him, but even the task of nodding his head is too much for him.

“How did you sleep, Your Highness?” Cecelia asks. She has been his maid since he was a boy, and the way she is looking at him now, Jace knows she could see right through him.

“I’ve had better nights,” he says, sitting up, propping his arms on his knees.

“That seems to be the common theme around here today,” she mutters as she sets out his breakfast.

“What do you mean?” he asks. She only glances at him, but that look is confirmation enough. “How is Y/N?”

“I haven’t seen her,” she says, nodding to the other maid to dismiss her. Once she’s out the door, she continues, “But her lady’s maid was up all night, because Lady Arryn had a fitful night. Says she kept waking up, screaming.”

“I need to see her,” he says, throwing back his sheets.

“The Queen has asked that the two of you remain separated,” she says. Jace barely hears her as he tugs on a shirt and pulls on a pair of pants, whatever is close by.

“Cecelia, please,” he says, eyes wide.

“The guards will stop you,” she says. “But . . .”

“But?” he asks, stepping closer to her. The older woman looks up at him with a sad smile.

“There’s a servant’s entrance that can get you into her room. It’s a long path—”

“I don’t care,” he says. “Show me.”

The walls of the servant’s hallway are dark, and are nearly too tight for him to walk through, let alone two people at a time. His mind isn’t on the spider webs, or the dank smell of the halls. He just needs to get to you. He thinks about the night he had, the lack of sleep, and knowing that it was worse for you makes him sick.

When he finally reaches the door to your quarters, he takes a breath. It’s been nearly ten minutes since he left his chambers. The entire walk over he thought he knew what he was going to say, but here at your doorstep, he’s at a loss.

The light of the room is jarring in retrospect to the dark hallway he leaves. When he walks in, he hears soft chatter, and he spots you almost immediately.

You are still in your dressing gown, your hair flowing down your back, in tangled curls. Your back is turned to him, but when he closes the door behind him, you turn. Your eyes go wide.

“Your Highness,” you say.

“Really? We’re going back to—” he stops when he sees you nod towards the corner of the room. Lady Arryn stands from the breakfast table and makes her way towards him. She curtsies and Jace nods his head politely.

“What a lovely surprise, Your Highness,” Jeyne says.

“Lady Arryn, I need to have a word with Y/N, if you wouldn’t mind,” he says. She studies him for a long moment but then nods her head.

“I’ll be right outside the door,” she says, glancing at you before leaving the room. When the door closes, you turn towards him.

“Jace, I know you must be furious with me,” you say, “And you’ve got every right to be, I—"

“I’m not angry, Y/N,” he says, moving closer to you. “I’m confused as hell, but mostly I'm worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say gently.

“Don’t be sorry, just tell me what’s going on.”

“There is nothing going on between Lord Blacktyde and I. There never was.”

“He made it seem otherwise,” he says, bracing a hand on the back of a chair. You watch him for a long moment, and he can see you fighting with yourself, deciding whether you’ll tell him the full story. “Y/N, just tell me the truth.”

“Fine,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “Fine.” You take a seat at the table, nodding for him to do the same. He does, his pulse racing as he waits for you to tell him.

“When you came to the Eyrie all those years ago, asking for our help, what were Jeyne’s terms of agreement?” you ask. Jace’s brow furrows.

“A dragon to guard the Vale.”

“And what else?”

“That when the war was over, you would be allowed access to live within King’s Landing, as the Queen’s ward,” he says with a sigh.

“There was a deeper reason behind that. Before you came to the Vale, Lord Royce had arranged a betrothal for me, to Lord Blacktyde. Since my father’s death, we had been scrambling to find our footing, and he accepted the first worthwhile offer for me.

“What neither of us knew, was the kind of man Barun was. Is,” you say. “He’s got wandering hands, a fierce temper, and I was terrified of him.” Jace’s heart breaks at your words, and he reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We didn’t see a way out until you came. Jeyne took the opportunity, and," you say, taking a breath, "You saved me. Those long years during the war, I wasn’t afraid because I knew I had an escape. Jeyne told Barun that she wanted me to go to King’s Landing, to become a more well-rounded woman. He got sick of waiting and eventually married someone from the Iron Islands. Our engagement was called off, because of you.” He is silent for a long moment, sitting with the gravity of your words.

“When I heard the news, I was so relieved. But still, in the back of my mind, there was a fear. What if he ever came back? What if something happened to his wife? I waited five years to come here, not knowing when he would appear again, demanding that the engagement be reinstated."

“And now he is back,” he says. Jace is sick and he’s angry, but most of all, he just wants to take you in his arms and hold you. He can see the lack of sleep in you. The dark circles under your eyes, how devoid of energy you are.

“Now, more than ever we need to ensure our marriage," he says firmly.

“Jace,” you say, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “I am not sure we have that choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a time, during our initial engagement, where I tried to break it off with Barun, and in response, he threatened to bring war to the Vale,” you say.

“We’ll stop him. Can he stand up against our army? Against Vermax?”

“I would not send you into another war,” you say quietly. “And The Vale’s reinforcements are already so depleted.”

“So you mean to give in to his bargaining?” he asks.

“I don’t know what I mean to do,” you say with a shake of your head, “I’ve thought about it all night long.”

“He can’t hurt you here, Y/N,” he says, taking your hand. You look at him with sad eyes.

“He is possessive. Cruel. If he ever found out about us, about what we’ve done,” you say quietly. “I am dead.”

“Y/N.”

“He wants me as a trophy. Wants me to have children for him, he wants to use me. That is the future that awaits me. Now you see why I was trying so hard to find a suitor, I was trying to ensure that by the time he came looking, I was already gone.”

“Why can’t you see that you’ve found your suitor?" he says gently, "I will protect you.”

“We don’t even know if that’s a possibility, Jace.”

“We do know. My mother has given us her blessing, we--"

“And what will she think now?" you ask, "After what she's seen today? What kind of a queen would I make?”

“I won’t allow this to happen," he says, setting his jaw, stepping closer to you. "He's not going to just take you away from me."

“Jace,” you say with a frown, “Depending on what your mother says, what kind of deal Jeyne can make—"

“There’s always a chance,” he says, cupping your cheek. “I love you. Don’t you love me, still?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then we will figure this out, like we always have.”

[evilminji]

You think the Chimpanzee from Dark LOVES Amity shops?

Like? Think about it...

How many places do you know, near where YOU LIVE, aren't gonna Be Weird About taking a sentient chimpanzee's legal tender. Selling him goods and services. Without, you know, doing the whole "is this a wild animal or a sentient Chimpanzee Detective person" Every Single Fucking Time, dispite him very CLEARLY wearing a suit.

Not treat him like a side show to be ogled at. Baby talked down too.

Treated as Less Then.

How many shops? Because yeah, he can buy things online. Ship them to drop points. Yes, he has a paying job. Legal rights he fought very, VERY hard for. And yeah, those rights are tenuous. Only as real as the willingness of those humans willing to enforce them. But? Money isn't worth much, with no where to spend it.

He's a grown fucking Chimpanzee for God's sake! It's frustrating and embarrassing having to ask his colleagues, to buy his groceries and other such goods, FOR him.

Then? He finds a preportedly "Meta Friendly" shop in the town he's currently working a case in? That reviews say is VERY good.

He'll be the judge of that.

After all, they all say that. Until a chimpanzee walks into their shop.

Only? Beyond the cashier's confused blinking? Nothing. They make what they CLEARLY think is a "discreet" call, the owner pops their head out from the back, look at him briefly, then merely nods. Says something into the phone that seems to clear everything up.

Not once his he bothered, as he peruses the shelves.

He even finds some tea he'd been having trouble locating and a lovely local bread that looks promising. Bobo? Has a new favorite grocery store. To hell that he must take the zeta tubes to get there. Worth it.

And that's BEFORE he learns, through a bit of artful small talk. That there is both a FULL TOWN like this AND a full network of shops/services he can locate through an app.

When they say Everyone Welcome, they truely do mean it.

He's brought swamp thing, shown up covered in blood, swung by with a literal angel for bandages and some water too make holy. Not so much as a blink. Seen Constantine staring blankly at the vodkas, like they offer salvation. The stockers step gently around. Morningstar? Not sure what he was BUYING, but Bobo watched him pay in a solid gold brick and leave with the basket.

He reported that one.

Still. It's? The most... normal, he's ever felt.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes @hypewinter @hypewinter @dcxdpdabbles

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am i the A-hole for trying to protect a women focused space?

I'm the mod from the super one sided retelling of the "Refusing to change OC's sexuality to bi/pan" situation. Shin (the person who wrote that post) know i don't use tumblr so of course he bring the drama here so that people would judge "Laura" and me without knowing the full truth. Thankfully, a dear friend of mine who followed this blog told me about this and was kind enough to allowed me to send this ask using her account.

First of all, it's pretty clear that Shin is lying about his identity. Shin said he is a trans man but he admitted that he don't want to transition beside wanting flat chest. Shin also said that he is south east asian but his display name and his OC's name are all japanese, which is a huge sign of white weeb fetishizing japanese culture. The fact that his english and understanding of slangs is way too good to be south east asian.

Secondly, Shin joining this server knowing that 90% of the members are yumejoshi, he should be grateful of the fact that we even allowed those yaoi characters invading what basically a space for women. I know we advertised the RP as a non-shipping focus death game story but you should have read the room and know what type of people this space is catering to and not bring your gay character in if you didn't want him to be shipped with women.

Thirdly, if Shin was uncomfortable then he should have made it clear from the start instead of letting "Laura"s character flirting with his, like having him respond rudely or out right rejecting her or something. Shin said he is having undiagnosed autism in his bio then he should have understand how it feel when people don't state what they mean clearly. His OC still being nice to "Laura"'s OC even if he didn't like the flirting, of course she would misunderstand that his OC developed romantic feeling for her OC.

Fourthly, Shin said before that he didn't count alternate timeline versions of a character from a visual novel he likes the same as the original timeline version because of their different life experiences then why can't he do the same to his OC? Why can't he just agree to let "Laura" make an alternate version of his character if in his logic they are completely different people? Hypocrite much?

And finally, "Laura" was very upset about this and it took her a while to move on, she could have hurt herself back then because of you. Also, we had to revised our server's rules and banned all the non-yumejoshies, which cut several RPs short.

So who is really the A-hole here?

[badscienceman]

I saw someone ask what "I hope this hurts" means beyond the obvious, and I started to respond only for it to turn into an essay... Because I don't feel like dumping something so long in some unsuspecting person's notifs, I'm just going to post it here instead.

I started writing this after playing the game, but ended up watching a playthrough because I couldn't remember exactly where "I hope this hurts" was repeated. I think I caught the only few times it was mentioned, but I wouldn't be surprised if I missed something, so feel free to correct me on that or anything else I might have gotten wrong.

Spoilers for the full game and CWs for everything you would expect from discussing Mouthwashing apply.

Edited 10/16/2024 for clarity and some minor issues with formatting. I added sections in hopes of making it more readable, as well as a few more screenshots that I hope will support my points better. *Indicates where I made potentially significant additions to my original analysis.

Part One: Jimmy

Jimmy is someone who has a delicate ego. This means that he's very concerned with how he's perceived by those around him. We see this in how he responds to Curly and the news of the company's closure, which he takes it as a personal attack in spite of it very clearly having nothing to do with him on a personal level.

For people like Jimmy, a threat to one's image (whether it's a matter of their perception of themselves or, maybe worse, the perception others have of them) brings intense emotional pain. Even though it's clear that Curly meant no personal offense, and likely saw more good in Jimmy than was actually there, Jimmy sees this as a great threat to his own image, and thus identity.

To be clear, it's not just that Jimmy thinks Curly is looking down on him. It's also that Jimmy needs his role in the company to maintain his image, and he needs to eventually become captain. This is his ultimate goal because the respect and control that someone like Curly has, in Jimmy's mind, is tied to the title he possesses. And Jimmy wants that. He wants respect, he wants to be listened to, he wants power over others. (This is also why Swansea's final speech is so important, in relation to the belief that if one just reaches this next goal, they might feel a little more human, a little more in control, a little more fulfilled, but as Swansea shows us, that's just not the case. And it's true for Jimmy, too. Jimmy isn't magically fulfilled by obtaining the title of captain.)

But in the beginning, Jimmy has yet to realize that just getting the role of captain won't magically make him a man who is respected, or even a man who is truly in control. He sees no opportunities for himself on earth. The only option is to stay in this company and become a little lord of his own ship... and suddenly that's ripped out from under him. He will never reach the goal he's been chasing for all of this time.

Anya telling him about her pregnancy is the final push he needs to go over the edge.

Part Two: Captain

Returning to the initial reveal that the company is shutting down for a second, I think it's important to keep in mind a few things:

1. The importance of the title of captain in Jimmy's mind.

2. How this extends to his perception of Curly, him being the current captain.

3. Jimmy's self-centeredness preventing him from understanding the feelings and perceptions of those around him.

When Curly says what he does, Jimmy immediately jumps to the conclusion that Curly sees himself as above everyone else (and most importantly, as above Jimmy), to the point of considering them "dirt." I don't think Jimmy is just projecting his greatest fear (being seen as lesser) onto Curly. I think he's projecting his own perceptions.

He's placed all of this importance on the title of captain, and thus Curly. The captain is above Jimmy. Jimmy is beneath him, is lesser. And we know how Jimmy treats those he sees as lesser (first Anya, and then the rest of the crew once he's captain, *manipulating Daisuke into putting his life at risk because Daisuke, who is just an intern after all, just isn't important to Jimmy being an example).

I think this is a fair reading because Jimmy does something similar with Swansea when he insists that Swansea is keeping the last cryostasis pod for himself. I understand some might say that this is just Jimmy's attempt to manipulate Daisuke and Jimmy doesn't actually believe it, which is a fair interpretation, but I sincerely think he believes what he's saying in this instance. And I think that because Jimmy sees selfishness as common sense. It's what he would do were he in Swansea's position, and what makes him giving the pod to Curly significant.

Part Three: Anya

So, Jimmy is already hurt and panicking. He sees his chance at power and thus fulfillment slipping away. And then Anya tells him that she's pregnant.

Anya, who he has shown time and time again that he thinks little of.

Anya, who he clearly sees as beneath him.

Any mention of the pregnancy, no matter how gently it was worded, would immediately feel like a threat to him on multiple levels. And not only that, but a threat from someone lesser than him. His image, his status, his control, his power—it's already slipping from his fingertips. *It's happening right then, in that moment. It's not just a potential future where he's held accountable in a real way (maybe if Anya involved authorities, or if Jimmy was legally responsible for supporting a child once they returned to earth). It's happening now, because his image is crumbling.

For this reason, I believe I hope this hurts to be directed at anyone and everyone that he sees as "threatening" him.

Anya and Curly have made him hurt. He wants to make them hurt.

He doesn't care about Daisuke and Swansea. If anything, he's so caught up in himself and this contorted vision of reality, I wouldn't be shocked if he convinced himself in the moment that they, too, were looking down on him for some reason. (See again, "I know what everyone is thinking. The way they look at me." Obviously this is said in the midst of his spiral, after the crash, but I wouldn't doubt the paranoia was there before that moment.)

He wants to make them hurt as they've hurt him. He may also want to make himself hurt in order to vent out his emotional pain. If not, death may simply be the easiest way to escape pain and the threat the future holds in his mind.

*Part Four: Without the Guilt

In addition to all of this, I think crashing the ship (making them hurt) is his vision of what Curly has done or is doing to him. This is how he "leave(s) the dirt behind."

To understand this, I'm going to include the birthday conversation and the conversation between Jimmy and Curly about crashing the ship.

Jimmy: ... So I guess you got what you wanted. Without the guilt. Curly: Jim... If I had known... Jimmy: I can go back to my, how'd you put it? "Struggle of a life?" Jimmy: Anya never got into medical school because she's... well, let's be real. Jimmy: And how many employment years Swansea got left in him? Jimmy: Daisuke will be fine, mommy and daddy have him covered. So there's that at least. Jimmy: But you. Headed for bigger and better, right? Curly: I'm just... I'm just working on my life being a place I don't have to fucking escape! That's what I was trying to tell you, nothing mor- Jimmy: We're the ones you're trying to escape! Leave the dirt behind now that your boots are clean! Curly: That's not what I meant. Jimmy: It is what you meant. Jimmy: You just couldn't frame it to yourself in a way that kept you as the hero. Jimmy: Abandon the crew but remain the model captain.

To me, this is one of the most important and revealing sections of the game. Jimmy is not only projecting onto Curly, he's telling us exactly what he's going to go on to do (or attempt to do) when he becomes captain.

In addition to this, we see his manipulation on full display as he twists Curly's words and won't allow him even a moment to truly speak beyond a few lines he manages to get in between Jimmy's ranting.

That's not to mention we see the beginning of yet another pattern in Jimmy's behavior: getting a person to admit their weakness, then using it against them and/or using it to hurt them (he does this with Daisuke, for example, when he hears Daisuke's fears/desire for approval and proceeds to use it to get Daisuke in the vent). Here, Curly speaks about feeling trapped. Jimmy will soon trap him in a crashed ship just as much as he traps him in his own body, which Jimmy will proceed to drug. But I'll return to that.

Curly: Jim. I can fix this. Jimmy: What do you think will happen when we get back? Hm? Curly: We can figure all of this out. You and me. Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy: All I ever hear is how great of a leader you are. God, it's so annoying. Jimmy: But, now... What do you think will happen now when we get back? Curly: We'll fix this together. Jimmy: Everything you and I worked for in our lives. Accomplishments, changes. Jimmy: None of it will matter. Curly: You've gotten through difficult situations before. This time won't be any different. Work through it, one day at a time. Jimmy: It's not just me, is it? Jimmy: You were supposed to be the one who had everything under control. You said so yourself. Jimmy: The ship, this crew, everything that happened here... Jimmy: This was your responsibility, Captain. Jimmy: That is what you'll be hearing the rest of your life. Take responsibility. Jimmy: Or this can all be remembered as a tragedy. Jimmy: Despite what must have been the best efforts of its acclaimed captain. Jimmy: The Tulpar crew was never found. Jimmy: No one survived to tell the tale. Take responsibility. Jimmy: You're standing at the top. Jimmy: Feet in cement. Jimmy: I get it now. Right? Curly: ... Curly: ... Right.

This is an important moment, because aside from the scene in which Jimmy is approaching Curly while he's on fire, it's the only other time that I can recall the game separating from their perspectives to allow us to see them both, standing together.

We see a flash of Take care of it. Kills ninety nine percent. Jimmy begins to pull away. Another flash. He continues to draw back. Another. He turns towards the cockpit.

Jimmy sees through Curly. He sees Curly's worst where Curly sees only Jimmy's best, and he's more that willing to use that against Curly.

He sees a man who is not going to do what's hard. He sees a man who is going to try to "fix it" only in the most superficial sense. A man who confuses the appearance of cohesion and peace with the reality of it. Someone who sees the rocking of the boat as a manifestation of taking action against a wrong rather than the wrong itself.

In the end, it seems they're both ruled by appearances. And Jimmy will soon rip appearances in every sense from Curly's fingertips. He will make him hurt. He will get his revenge. He'll turn Curly into the villain, taking away his title, his respect, and his very face.

For daring to look down on him, Jimmy will turn Curly into dust.

But I think these words—I hope it hurts—come back to haunt him.

Part Five: The Eye as a Mirror

Like I said, I went back to try to find each time the phrase is used. There's the beginning, of course, but then there's the pregnancy sequence, for lack of a better name.

When the Polle monstrosity emerges from the giant uterus (?), we see these words:

In this sequence, we see a lot of different images and concepts connected: Anya's pregnancy and thus her sexual assault by Jimmy are tied to Polle and the company. The emergence of the Polle monster from the giant uterus (and the idea of the removal of the pregnancy) is tied to the mouthwash, as it's an act of "cleansing." This is all then tied to the phrase I hope this hurts.

Unless I missed something, these are the only two moments when the phrase is used: When Jimmy crashes the ship, and when he's experiencing this hallucination.

All clean! Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth, huh? Through wreckage! Through silence! Wash it away! All day fire fresh!

"Clean" is important immediately. "Leave the dirt behind you now that your boots are clean," Jimmy says. Because in this accusation is Jimmy's actual intentions himself. He wants to rise above others and clean himself from their filth. Now, he wants to clean himself of his sins.

I think "Really gets rid of that bad taste in your mouth" is mocking him. A direct challenge to the thought that he could ever truly be "cleaned," at least in the ways he's so desperately trying to go about it. *Not to mention how this connects to the mouthwash, as it might get that 99%, but there's always going to be 1% left.

"Through wreckage" obviously refers to the wrecking of the ship, but also of their lives. All by Jimmy. Though I wouldn't doubt in his mind it connects to the wreckage of consequences (ie. Anya's pregnancy resulting from Jimmy's actions).

"Through silence" I feel connects back to Jimmy's attempts to keep everything quiet, both literally and figuratively.

"Wash it away" also has a mocking edge, as if stressing the foolishness of Jimmy's attempts to treat these very serious events as if it's all just "dirt" he can wipe off.

Finally, we see "All day fire fresh!" This line stresses the connection to the mouthwash, of course. It also calls to mind the concept of cleansing by fire. Important considering Curly.

And after each, I hope it hurts. Jimmy's statement of pure, childish rage. His desperate desire to make others hurt as he hurts. To lash out, to get revenge. To have control until the very end.

This is also why Polle haunts him. Because he, as a man desperate for control, will always be under the thumb of the company even with that title of captain. That hurts him. And maybe the closest thing to ever recognizing the evil he's done to Anya is envisioning it as similar to the company's control, but even that feels like a mockery because he's so horrifically incapable of seeing her as a human being that she's been reduced to her womb. That's what he's really afraid of, in the end, and the fear feels like something else is in control. It makes the organ feel giant, larger than him, capable of hurting him.

When I was watching the playthrough, I thought that there was going to be four or five "I hope it hurts." I thought it would represent each person Jimmy hurts, or all of them, because he hurts himself too. When the sixth came, I thought so much for that theory. But then, I thought about it and there's the fetus. That makes six.

So, I hope this hurts means "I want to hurt you the way I've been hurt. The way you've hurt me." It's Jimmy saying that if his life has been wrecked, he'll wreck yours. It's Jimmy saying he'll shut you up. It's Jimmy saying he'll burn everything down if it means he can maintain control, or even just the illusion of it.

Part Six: Pain

But I think there's another side to this. Like some of the other lines I said feel are mocking him, I think I hope this hurts turns against Jimmy, especially here. And more than that, pain (and by extension, pain medication) plays a massive role in the game, after all. So I hope this hurts feels as if it haunts every moment where it's involved.

Jimmy says this the first time he gives Curly his pills. Pain is how we know we're still living.

The pills are clearly connected to death from the start. If "pain is how we know we're still living" then pain is connected to life and freedom from it is connected to death. That's saying nothing of Anya's use of the pills to kill herself. I think this connects back to the crash, as well. If life is pain, death is an escape from it.

I think it's also significant that the act of swallowing the pain pills is in and of itself painful.

The pills that are meant to take the pain away become a method of torturing Curly. It's a way to make him hurt, and to exert control over him. Even something that should take away his suffering is just an extension of it.

At one point, Jimmy says "Once these are out, we'll have nothing to keep him quiet." In this sense, the pain pills are meant to suppress, not to heal (Through silence!). They're supposed to shut Curly up and keep him from expressing his anguish in the only way he has left (the noises that disturb Jimmy's sleep).

Others have compared this, or Curly's state, to how Anya has been forced to bottle up her own suffering. Jimmy is keeping them both quiet, or at least attempting to. The ultimate form of keeping them quiet would be to, of course, kill them all.

The pills can also be seen as an attempt to hide or conceal the hurt that has been caused rather than to actually heal. In this way, they're like the mouthwash: something that's not really helping, just covering up an issue (and thus making it worse). And the mouthwash represents Jimmy's attempts to "fix" things. He doesn't actually want to make things right, because that would mean taking accountability. He wants to protect his own ego by "fixing" things in a mimicry of Curly "fixing" things in which he wants to create a sense of "rightness" without actually adressing what (or who) has been wronged. Jimmy can't stand to look at himself, because he would see that he really is constructed of his worst moments, or at least, that's what I suspect he would see.

Conclusion

Considering all of this, I hope this hurts can then become a mantra about living in spite of everything. I hope this hurts means "I hope I'm alive in the end. I hope we're all alive in the end." It could mean "I hope I'm allowed to hurt, because I am hurt, and the harm that's been done to me must be seen rather than suppressed and hidden." It could mean "You can't keep me quiet. You can't ignore or hide what you've done to me."

Maybe most of all, I think it means I hope you reap what you sow. When it's turned back on Jimmy, when it's almost mocking or haunting him, it becomes in part about his emotional weakness. About his inability to look at himself and his reality without experiencing the pain of humiliation. I don't think he ever experiences half of the pain he's inflicted on those around him. Still, he has to deal with the fact that his attempt to hurt others instead of facing himself has caused him more pain rather than taken it away as he'd hoped.

And I think that's why he suddenly decides to make Curly a "hero" instead of a "villain." There's a tipping point where he's pushed into a corner. The pain is too much. He hasn't confronted his own actions in any real way, but he's done enough that he can't stand to save himself anymore. It hurts too badly to live with what he's done. It sends him into another stage of fantasy/delusion. The only thing left to do is what he intended to from the start: kill himself to escape and damn Curly to a slow death. Because to go on living in spite of the pain would be the right thing to do, in a sense. To live in the hell of his own creation. To face what he's done. But instead, he'll entrust those heroics to Curly.

This feels barely coherent in the end, so I might come back in a few days and say wow what the fuck was I talking about? But hopefully there's something here that captures some truth. Again, please feel free to correct me if I'm misremembering anything or if I missed something.

[jintaka-hane]

A Visit to the Infirmary

Masterlist

Img by Buffoland

This is a gift for the lovely @akagami-no-laney 🎁!! I like Hongo thanks to you, and when I went to look for more content about him, I saw there was very little! So I decided to write this. I hope you like it! 💕 Summary: You've fallen in love with the doctor aboard the Red Force. In complete denial of your feelings, you think it’s best to avoid him for a while until the feeling passes. But a terrible pain in your back will force you to pay him a visit. Word count: 3000 Notes: Love in denial. Flirting. Confessions of love. Use of 'Darling' and 'Doll'. Reader is a brat. Beckman is a saint. Hongo doesn't really know how to approach you, though in the end it seems like he manages to 🤪. I have no knowledge in medicine, so everything here is pure fiction XD.

"Dammit, Beck!!!" you roared, kicking and flailing in the air, landing futile punches on the immense wardrobe-like back of the first mate. "Let me go!"

The tall man's grip tightened as he carried you over his shoulder, his face serious and stoic as he strode determinedly towards the ship's infirmary.

"Scream all you want, Darlin’, but we’re going to see Hongo whether you like it or not." 

“NO!” you whined, writhing harder. “NOT HONGO! PLEASE! I—I’ll do anything you want! I’ll… I’ll get you the finest cigarettes at the next port!”

Beckman chuckled and shook his head, clearly amused by your desperate efforts to escape.

"BECKMAN, I’m serious! Let me go!! I-I swear that… that…  OUCH!!" you twisted in agony as a sharp, searing pain shot through your lower back.

Your captor halted immediately, noticing how you contorted in pain, and gave you a moment’s respite as he tried to ease you through the surge.

“Darlin’,” he spoke softly, one hand moving to your back and rubbing it gently, “you need help… and he’s the only one here who can give it to you, do you understand?” 

You nodded, closing your eyes and gripping his shirt tightly, enduring the wave of suffering as best you could.

You had been dealing with unbearable pain in your lower back for days. You didn’t know what caused it—whether it was some bad posture, the fall when you climbed down from the lookout, or the time you landed hard on your backside going down the ship’s ladder. Whatever it was, you must have injured something, and the pain, coming in waves like stabbing knives, was horrible. 

Stubbornly, you had tried to let it pass on its own, avoiding asking anyone for help and steering clear of the infirmary. Yet your walks on the deck, face twisted in pain and hand pressed to your lower back, hadn’t escaped the ever-watchful Benn Beckman. Guessing your reluctance to see the ship’s doctor, he had kept his distance and observed you from afar without asking questions, but, as he watched your condition deteriorate further, he decided it was his duty to act.

“Hongo’s a decent doctor. Give him a chance,” he said, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you with his concerned gray eyes.

The problem wasn’t whether Hongo was a good doctor. You knew full well that he was competent and professional. The real issue was that he was also kind, tall, funny, and undeniably attractive. 

That, along with the fact that you were maybe… probably a little bit in love with him—an insignificant detail, considering you were fighting it, convinced that keeping the right distance would make the feeling fade and spare you from a potential broken heart. All you had to do was avoid him and act like a brat when he was around, and everything would be fine. You were as certain of this as you were that your back pain would eventually subside on its own.

BAAAANG!!!!

The infirmary door swung open with a deafening bang as Beckman kicked it harder than intended, his hands fumbling as he tried to grab hold of your increasingly elusive body.

“Sorry, Hongo,” he said, noticing that part of the doorframe had splintered.

“Oi, Beck,” Hongo said without turning around, completely unfazed by the door’s loud crash as he meticulously washed his hands in the sink. “I see you’ve convinced y/n to come and see me.”

“That’s not—” you began to say.

“YES,” Beck shot you a reproachful look as he carefully set you down on the floor. “She’s a smart girl and understands what’s best for her.”

You opened your mouth to speak but his huge hand covered it, stopping you. His cold eyes bore into yours, and he mouthed the word “behave,” leaving no room for an argument.

“Perfect,” Hongo turned around with that charming smile that always drew you in. “Welcome to my office, y/n.”

You held his gaze for a moment, his eyes crinkling beneath the scar that ran down his temple. He took a small white towel and dried his hands with an unusual gentleness for a pirate, and the thought made you look away, taking in the ship’s infirmary for the first time.

It was surprisingly neat and well organized. There was a wide variety of medical supplies and medicinal herbs neatly lined up on shelves lining the walls. In the center, a sturdy wooden table held a collection of bandages, ointments, and surgical instruments. And next to it, a set of perfectly clean syringes waited to be used.

“Do you need me to stay?” Beckman asked, unsure of what to do.

“Yes—” 

“NO—” Hongo said at exactly the same time.

Beckman’s gaze shifted from one to the other.

“I’ll be outside if you need me,” he said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and placing it between his lips.

Shit.

You watched him leave shooting him a dirty look, and as soon as the door closed, Hongo’s gaze was fixed on you again, his smile remaining as he took a step closer.

“So…” he began, halting when he noticed you flinch and step back, “you’ve had a sharp pain in your lower back for days, haven’t you?”

Of course, that bastard Beckman had told him.

“Maybe,” you replied nonchalantly, avoiding his eyes.

“And you didn’t come to see me until now, why?”

“It’s not that bad.” You shrugged, the careless movement causing the pain in your back to flare up again, but in a wave you managed to endure with dignity.

“Uh-huh…” he paused, examining you. “Let’s take a look, okay?” He took another step forward, slow and deliberate. “Can you lay face down on the exam table for me?”

Your gaze darted to the exam table to the doctor.

“Absolutely not,” you looked at him with a defiant look, arms crossed over your chest.

Hongo’s expression changed in an instant.

“Very well,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes and kicking aside a stool that stood in his way as he moved towards you, “by force then.”

You swallowed hard, realizing that your back was pressed against a wall, and as soon as you saw his figure lurking closer, you scrambled to take cover behind the wooden table. You clutched its edge and dragged it to shield yourself, causing several bandages, bottles and ointments to scatter across the floor, some breaking open and spilling.

“Eeehm, do you need help!?” Beckman’s raspy, concerned voice came from the other side of the door.

“No!” Hongo bellowed as he charged after you, his eyes fixed on you and ignoring the mess on the floor. “No need for help! We’re behaving like two perfectly normal, civilized people!”

He moved along the right side of the table while you quickly circled to the other side, moving as fast as your body let you. As he reached out to grab you, you twisted to evade him, but a sharp, agonizing pain shot through your back, spreading to your hips and down your thighs. Your legs gave way under the intensity of the pain and just as you began to collapse, Hongo caught you in mid-air.

“I’ve got you…” he soothed, his usual tenderness reappearing as he held you tightly against his chest, unwilling to let you go until the pain was gone. “I’ve got you…”

You buried your head in the crook of his neck, sobbing and swallowing your pride, and you stayed wrapped in his arms for a few minutes, until he felt your body gradually relax as the pain started to ease.

“I’m going to take you to the exam table now, alright?” he said, feeling your head nod against his neck.

“You know…'"he helped you to sit down, "you must be made of steel, because in all the time you’ve been with us, you’ve never come to see me…” his fingers danced lightly along the edge of your shirt. “Can I examine you?”

“NO.” You swatted his hands away immediately.

"Alright, alright..." He smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Let’s focus on your back, then." He gestured with his finger for you to turn over on the examination table. "Can you lie face down, please?"

You glared at him, tilting your chin defiantly. But as soon as he caught the rebellious glint in your eyes, he raised an eyebrow.

“Face down, Doll. NOW.” He said, his tone commanding and authoritative, making it clear who was in charge.

With a dramatic roll of your eyes you gave in, knowing full well there was no choice but to comply with your doctor’s orders. You turned over on the table, and the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through your back, forcing you to moan and press your face into the sheets. You felt Hongo’s fingers ghost over your back, right at the spot where the pain was the worst.

"It’s right here, isn’t it?"

You nodded, surprised at how efficiently he pinpointed the exact source. With your head buried in the soft, cushioned surface of the table, you heard the sound of a stool being dragged toward you. You turned your head to see him, but found his knees and the tops of his thighs instead, legs set apart.

"Okay…" you heard him muse, his voice soft, calm and steady, “... intramuscular analgesia”.

His left hand rested on your lower back, applying just enough pressure to keep you in place, while his right hand deftly prepared the cotton and antiseptic. As he turned his torso, his defined abs peeked out from above the waistband of his pants right in front of your eyes, and you snorted, turning your head away.

“Don’t worry Doll, I’ll be gentle…” he said, assuming your reaction was due to the fear of needles. “I need you to lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear, please.”

You didn’t respond. You stayed still on the exam table with your heart pounding in your chest. The pain in your lower back was unbearable, but the thought of Hongo right behind you, demanding to see your ass, was much worse.

"Come on, Doll…" he tried to encourage you in an even softer voice, "be a good girl for me."

This time, a surprised chuckle escaped your lips. Never in a million years had you imagine hearing those words from him, and a warm flush crept up from your neck, staining your cheeks. You hesitated, hands trembling as you slowly lifted your skirt over your hips. Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your panties, and as you exposed the soft, vulnerable skin of your ass, you felt Hongo shift slightly on the stool.

“... Hongo?”

"Yes," he cleared his throat with a hint of self-reproach. "Please, keep your ass up."

The tension was suffocating. The smell of antiseptic saturated the air, his gaze weighed on your exposed skin... and that last command. It was too much. You had to say something that might unsettle him and tip the balance in your favor. Anything.

“Tsk, tsk, doctor, you can’t just pull down a girl’s panties and say 'ass up’ without, you know, a little courting first, can you?”

He let out a snort of laughter, and the sound made you smir proud of yourself. Though not for long.

“Oh, doll…” His fingers brushed over your skin as he tapped it with the alcohol-soaked cotton swab. “You know I’ve wanted to court you for a long time, don’t you? But it’s hard when you’re always running away from me.”

Your heart raced again, faster this time. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to get up and run out of the infirmary. But unable to do any of that, you simply turned your face away, closed your eyes, and tried to focus on anything but what he had just said. He stifled a sigh and readied the syringe.

"Alright, here we go," he said, making you gasp as the sharp, clean prick pierced your skin. "Good girl, you’re doing great…" He noticed how tightly you were gripping the sheet on the exam table, and unable to stand seeing you so uncomfortable, he slipped his free hand beneath yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. "That's it, just hold on a little longer…"

You focused on his words, letting the rhythm of his calm, measured breathing soothe you, and as soon as he finished, he withdrew the needle.

“Try to rest a bit until the medication takes effect,” he said as he rose from the stool and moved away to give you space.

With your face still turned to the wall, you pulled up your underwear. The pain in your back was fading, so you slowly sat on the exam table, surprised to find you could do so without wincing.

From that angle, you had a clear view of the infirmary and saw Hongo kneeling on the floor, cleaning up the mess you’d made in your frantic attempt to escape. You watched him work, his back hunched and his shaved neck bowed, carefully picking up the spilled liquids and shards of glass. A sigh escaped you at the sight, and you felt the stubbornness in your heart start to melt into something warmer. You moved closer and crouched down beside him.

“Is your back feeling better?” he asked as soon as he noticed you presence.

“Yes… ,” you said softly, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor. "Thanks."

“Anytime.” 

You felt his gaze on you as you focused on the task, sorting the broken jars and glass shards into a bag. You worked side by side in a silence that, oddly enough, didn’t feel uncomfortable, and you wished it could stay that way. But when your hands brushed against each other and you pulled yours back, he spoke.

“Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” you replied without looking at him.

“But you avoid me…”

You remained silent, grabbing a rag and scrubbing it vigorously against the floor, feeling a knot in your stomach grow larger and larger.

"Look at me," he said, placing a hand on the crown of your head to make you face him. "Isn’t a ship’s doctor good enough for you?"

You shrugged off his hand and stood up , trying to hide the mixed feelings on your face.

“It’s not that, Hongo, it’s… it’s complicated.”

“It shouldn’t be complicated… " He rose to his feet to match your stance, and his eyes locked with yours with a hint of pleading in his expression. "Actually, it’s very simple. At least for me, loving you is as simple and natural as breathing.”

His words pierced your heart like arrows set aflame. He might have tended to your back, but his gaze and his words were leaving your mind and heart reeling, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

“You love me…” You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt your heart weary from fighting.

“Of course I do… You know I'm crazy about you.”

You opened your eyes again to meet his, his face calm yet sharply attentive to your reaction.

"I just..." your eyes darted between his, "need a little more time to sort out my feelings and make things... right."

He held your gaze for a moment, weighing the situation.

“I’ll be right here," he finally said, raising his hands in a gesture that seemed to take in the entire infirmary.

You returned his smile. It wasn’t going to be very hard to come to terms with your feelings if he kept acting like this. As you discarded the dirty rag you had been holding into a bin, you turned and walked toward the door, feeling as though you were leaving a piece of your heart behind.

"I’d really love to see it again, you know? But maybe under different circumstances...” he said as you reached for the doorknob.

“See what?” you turned to look at him, hoping that whatever he said next wouldn’t be too out of place.

"That beautiful ass."

Bastard. 

Your heart betrayed you, leaving you flattered and forcing you to suppress a smile.

He was a pirate after all.

“Oh, Hongo,” you looked at him with pursed lips, “I can’t believe it. Where’s your professionalism?”

“Believe me, I’ve been quite professional,” he placedhis hand over his chest. “I’ve had to restrain myself from giving you a smack, and believe me, I’ve really wanted to.”

“Ugh!” You huffed, stepping out of the infirmary and bumping into Beckman, who was waiting for you outside.

“How are you feeling, Darlin'? Better?” he asked, looking at you with his grey eyes.

With a smile you couldn't hold back, you stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, leaving him startled as you continued down the hall. The door to the infirmary opened and Hongo stepped out, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching you walk away.

“Much better!” you replied over your shoulder, smiling to yourself before disappearing from their sight.

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

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece <3

[winxanity-ii]

READY SET?... YOU BET!!

ship: soccer player!yuji x cheerleader!fem!reader x soccer player!megumi (aged up: reader, yuji and megumi are in early 20s) warnings: non-explicit; suggestive themes word count: 4.5k A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before...

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Friday afternoons weren't supposed to be like this.

You should've been back at Inkan College, practicing on your home turf, but no—the soccer team had to take over the field from Tuesday to Friday, leaving your cheer squad scrambling for a place to practice.

And now, thanks to the gym renovations at Inkan, you were all stuck at Kaisen College, borrowing their gym every Friday until further notice.

The situation wasn't ideal, but you'd take anything at this point.

As soon as you stepped into the massive space, the scent of sweat and faint cologne filled your nose.

The echo of shoes squeaking against the polished floor cut through the low hum of conversation, and you spotted Kaisen's soccer team scattered across the court.

They were warming up—stretching, chatting, completely unaware of the growing crowd of cheerleaders filtering in.

A part of you wondered if they even cared as they continued with their warm-ups and drills, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Except for a few.

A couple of the soccer players couldn't help but glance over at your team, their eyes lingering far too long.

You caught one or two making catcalls under their breath, which only fueled the simmering annoyance you and your teammates felt.

They quickly got back to stretching when one of their coaches barked out an order, but the damage was done.

It wasn't exactly the warmest welcome.

Your manager, Momo, stood by the entrance, tapping her clipboard nervously.

You could tell she was calculating something—probably how to split the gym time without causing too much friction. She was a stickler for schedules, which, given the current chaotic situation, had saved you all a few times.

Without a word, she darted forward, straight toward two figures standing near the side of the court.

At first glance, they were just two guys, probably seniors by the look of them, but the moment Momo reached them, you realized how tiny she looked next to their towering frames.

One of them—short pink hair, a carefree smile plastered across his face—didn't seem to notice Momo's intimidation. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his soccer jersey, and his eyes lit up as he listened to whatever joke the other guy, standing just as tall but with dark hair that fell messily over his face, was muttering under his breath.

Momo, clipboard clutched tightly to her chest, cleared her throat.

The dark-haired guy glanced down at her, his expression a mix of boredom and curiosity, while the pink-haired one grinned wider, clearly amused by the situation.

You couldn't help but notice how Momo's usual confidence seemed to shrink as she faced them, her skittish posture a dead giveaway that she was more than a little intimidated.

Not that you could blame her—these two looked like they could flatten anyone who stood in their way if they wanted to.

As Momo continued her strained conversation with the two towering guys, one of your squadmates, Maki, spoke up softly from beside you. "Should someone go over there?" she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern.

Her twin sister, Mei, however, had no such reservations, cackling under her breath as she nudged Maki. "Why? Just look at her! She's about to have a full-blown panic attack," she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. You could almost feel the smirk pulling at her lips.

The rest of the team exchanged confused glances, a mix of frustration and unease settling in.

Your cheer captain, Nobara, wasn't the type to let something like this slide, though. She crossed her arms, scowling as she muttered, "We shouldn't even have to go through this. All the coaches signed off on us using the gym today. This is such a waste of time."

You opened your mouth to agree, but before you could say anything, Nobara had already started moving.

With a huff, she stomped across the gym, grabbing you by the wrist in the process. "C'mon, ____," she grumbled, dragging you along with her.

"W-Wait!" you stammered, barely keeping up with her hurried pace.

You shot a glance over at the rest of your squad, all of them staring wide-eyed as Nobara dragged you straight into the fray.

It didn't take long before you were standing face to face with Momo and the two guys, their attention shifting from your flustered manager to Nobara's fiery glare.

Nobara wasted no time. "What's the holdup?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the awkward tension like a knife. "We have the gym reserved today, so scram."

The pink-haired guy blinked, clearly surprised by her bluntness. His grin faltered for a second before returning with full force, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

The dark-haired one, on the other hand, remained as still and impassive as ever, but Nobara held her ground. "And where the hell are all your cars?" she barked, her voice echoing in the vast gym. “There's barely anyone in the parking lot, yet here are all you idiots, taking up the entire gym like it's your own private space! We had this reserved! Our coaches agreed! But no, you're still here, screwing around like you own the place."

She wasn't holding back, her frustration pouring out with every word. And while Nobara kept tearing into them, you could feel a shift in the air.

The two guys—who had seemed so relaxed moments ago—were now focused on you. It started subtly, but soon, you felt their gazes burning into your skin.

You tried to ignore it, tried to stay focused on Nobara's rant, but the sensation was overwhelming. Heat crept up along the side of your face, crawling down your neck and across your chest as their eyes raked over you, slow and deliberate.

You shifted your weight, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you felt in your practice attire—short spandex shorts hugging your thighs, a cropped top barely covering the sports bra beneath it.

Normally, it wasn't an issue, just the usual cheer practice gear. But under their scrutiny, it felt like you were standing there completely bare, vulnerable.

The pink-haired guy's grin faded slightly, his gaze lingering a moment too long, while the raven-haired one's expression remained unreadable, his eyes scanning you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

They didn't say anything at first, just watching. But then, the dark-haired one moved.

"Enough," he said, cutting Nobara off mid-rant, his voice calm but commanding.

Nobara's mouth snapped shut, eyes narrowing at the interruption, but the guy didn't seem fazed. His gaze briefly flickered to you before returning to her. "The soccer team's staying on campus for a training retreat," he explained smoothly. "We were informed that we'd be sharing the facilities with the sister school, but no one mentioned the cheerleading squad had the gym booked today."

His tone wasn't exactly apologetic, but there was something almost diplomatic about the way he spoke, like he knew how to diffuse tension. "We can move our practice outside to the field. The gym's all yours."

Nobara crossed her arms, still irritated, but before she could argue, the pink-haired one chimed in. "Yeah, no problem! We didn’t mean to cause any issues," he added, flashing that grin again, though this time it felt less cocky and more… friendly. "We'll clear out."

Their quick surrender caught you off guard.

It wasn't what you expected, especially after the way they'd been eyeing you. Nobara looked ready to press further, but the raven-haired guy's unwavering stare and unexpected cooperation seemed to keep her from pushing the issue any longer.

The fire in her eyes flickered for a moment, and then she huffed, crossing her arms tighter across her chest. "Uh, fine," she muttered, clearly irritated by how easily they folded. It was like all the energy she’d built up for a full-blown argument had nowhere to go.

Without waiting for another word, she turned on her heel, clapping her hands loudly as she headed back toward the squad.

"Let's go, people!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Stretch! Stretch! Stretch! We've got nationals to prepare for!" Her voice boomed across the gym as she led the charge, her hands clapping rhythmically to emphasize her point.

The cheer team sprang into action at her command, following her lead without question, some of them already shifting into warm-up positions.

You and Momo, however, remained behind for a moment longer, standing awkwardly between the two guys who had been the focus of Nobara's wrath just seconds ago.

Momo, always the one to follow protocol, quickly thanked them once again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Uh, thanks again! We appreciate it!" she squeaked before practically darting after Nobara, clipboard still pressed tightly to her chest as if it were some kind of shield.

Then, it was just you and them.

You scratched awkwardly at the side of your face, feeling the tension of the moment settle around you like an itchy sweater. "Uh, thank you," you muttered, giving the two men a small, polite bow.

When you rose, you caught them both looking at you again, their eyes sweeping over your frame with the same intensity as before. The pink-haired one, who you now realized was taller up close, stepped forward, breaking the silence.

"Hey, no problem," he said with a bright, almost boyish grin. "I'm Itadori Yuji, by the way—team captain. This is my co-captain, Fushiguro Megumi." He gestured toward the dark-haired guy, who gave a small nod in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as usual.

You offered a polite smile, trying to shake off the lingering awkwardness. "I'm ____," you introduced yourself. "Co-captain of our cheerleading squad... and, uh, sorry about my captain. She can get a bit fired up."

Yuji laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Nah, it's all good! Passionate captains are the best kind." His eyes brightened with genuine interest as he tilted his head. "So, what's your position? Flyer? Base?"

"Varsity flyer."

Yuji's grin widened, and he tilted his head even further, like a curious puppy. "Oh, so you're pretty flexible, huh?" he said, his tone casual but his words heavy with innuendo.

For a second, your brain short-circuited.

You blinked, feeling heat rise to your face as your mind went straight to the gutter.

But then, you glanced at Yuji's innocent, beaming smile—and Megumi’s total lack of reaction.

Maybe it was just you?

"Y-Yeah, I guess so," you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

Before you could say more, Nobara's voice pierced the air from behind you. "____! Quit messing around and help me stretch already!"

You flinched, turning back to Yuji and Megumi with an embarrassed giggle. "I, uh, I gotta go. Duty calls." You gave them a quick, nervous smile and turned to leave, feeling their eyes on you the whole way back to the squad.

You wiped sweat from your forehead, your body sore and aching as you stretched your arms overhead.

Practice had been brutal, and your muscles were screaming in protest.

With a tired sigh, you walked to the sidelines, pulling on your hoodie as the chill of the evening crept in.

It was nearing 7 p.m., the gym lights casting long shadows across the floor as practice finally came to an end.

Nobara had practically worked everyone to the bone. The longer practice went on, the fewer soccer players you noticed on the field outside.

You'd catch glimpses of them through the windows, their figures becoming less and less frequent whenever you were tossed into the air during routines.

By the time the sun had started to dip below the horizon, the field was nearly empty.

Your squadmates were just as exhausted, pulling on their jackets and finishing the last drops of water from their bottles. You could hear their quiet groans and heavy breathing as they packed up their gear, the sound of sneakers shuffling against the polished floor.

Nobara clapped her hands sharply, rounding everyone up for one last pep talk before you could all head home.

"Alright, listen up!" she barked, her tone still sharp despite the weariness in her own voice. "I know today was rough, but we've got nationals coming up, and there’s no room for slacking off!" She paused for a moment, wrinkling her nose as she glanced around the gym. "And honestly, can you believe the state of this place? Kaisen's gym is a joke. The equipment's ancient, and don't get me started on the smell."

A few of the girls chuckled tiredly, but Nobara didn't linger on the complaints for long. She quickly shifted gears, her expression hardening with determination. "That being said, we need to tighten up! That routine wasn't perfect, and we can't afford any screw-ups. We've got one shot, and we're gonna give it everything we’ve got. Understood?"

The sound of tired but enthusiastic "whoops" filled the gym, everyone too exhausted to muster anything more. Nobara clapped her hands again, signaling the end of practice. "Alright, that’s it! Get your stuff, go home, and rest up. We'll hit it harder next week."

You grabbed your things, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a blanket.

Your teammates were already filing out, chatting quietly among themselves, their bags slung over their shoulders as they made their way to the doors.

The sound of sneakers against the floor faded into the background, and soon, it was just you, your aching muscles, and the quiet hum of the empty gym.

You were shuffling your bag onto your arm when you heard footsteps behind you. Turning, you saw Momo and Nobara making their way over, both looking just as tired as you but clearly still running through their mental checklists.

"Kasumi's been solid lately," Nobara said, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of you. "I'm thinking about promoting her to backup flyer."

You nodded, adjusting the strap of your bag. "Yeah, totally agree. Kasumi's been killing it in the stunts, and she’s got the energy. She's a good choice,for sure."

Momo nodded quickly, scribbling on the clipboard before tucking it under her arm as she chimed in. "I'll make a note to talk to her next session."

A chilly breeze swept through the gym as the three of you walked toward the exit, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth and sweat of practice.

The doors creaked as you pushed them open, stepping out into the dimly lit parking lot.

The gym behind you had become quiet, almost eerily so, with the earlier sounds of practice and drills fading into the distance.

The lot, which had been full of cars and people earlier, was now nearly empty. All that remained were the scattered vehicles of you, Nobara, and Momo, the only signs of life left after a long, grueling practice.

You could see the condensation forming on the windows of your car as the temperature dropped, the once bustling energy of the gymnasium now a distant memory.

"Well, at least the next few practices should be a little smoother," Nobara muttered, glancing over her shoulder at the now-darkened gym. "If Kaisen can get their act together, maybe we can actually get some work done."

Momo laughed softly, pulling her jacket tighter around her. "One can only hope."

You gave Nobara and Momo one final wave as you unlocked your car door, watching them head toward their own vehicles. The cool metal of your car's handle felt like a relief after the long day, and you were more than ready to head home.

Settling into your seat, you pulled the seatbelt over your chest and clicked it into place. With a tired sigh, you were just about to turn the ignition when your phone buzzed from the passenger seat.

Glancing at the screen, you saw a message from Fujinuma, one of your spotters:

Hey! I left my arm compression sleeve in the locker room. Could you grab it for me? It’s my last pair—should be near the lower lockers by the sinks.

You groaned, letting your head drop back against the seat. "Of course," you muttered to yourself, pulling your seatbelt back off with a click. "Things that come with having responsibilities..."

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you reluctantly pushed the car door open and stepped back into the brisk night air. The wind had picked up a little, sending a chill through your hoodie as you trudged back toward the gym.

The silence of the empty parking lot felt heavier now, with only your footsteps breaking the stillness as you made your way back inside.

The gym's door creaked as you pushed it open, the faint echo of your steps bouncing off the empty walls. In the short amount of time since your group had left, the gym lights had already been turned off.

The sudden darkness sent a small shiver down your spine. "Creepy," you muttered under your breath, hugging your arms close as you quickly retraced your steps to the locker room.

You'd only used the locker room once before, during the last practice, so you weren't exactly familiar with its layout.

The long, narrow hallway that led to it felt even more unnerving now, the dim emergency lights casting strange shadows on the walls. The sound of your footsteps echoed slightly, the quiet hum of the building adding to the eerie atmosphere.

As you pushed open the door to the locker room, you expected to find complete silence—just an empty space waiting for you to grab Fujinuma's sleeve. But instead, as you stepped further into the room, the sound of rushing water hit your ears.

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat, eyes widening as you squinted toward the steam creeping from the lit showers around the corner. Shit, you thought, panic prickling your skin. Who the hell is still here?

Your heart raced, but you shook your head, trying to focus. Get the sleeve, get out, you told yourself, forcing your mind back to the task at hand.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly skimmed over Fujinuma's message again. "Lower locker, near the sink," you mumbled under your breath, shoving your phone back into your jacket pocket.

The faint glow of the shower lights barely reached your side of the locker room, but you did your best to navigate the dark space. You crouched down next to the row of sinks, your fingers fumbling with the cold metal locker.

You tugged it open with a slight creak, your breath catching as you spotted Fujinuma's compression sleeve sitting just where she said it would be.

You grabbed it quickly, stuffing it into your pocket. Relief washed over you as you pulled your phone out again, ready to let Fujinuma know you had it and you were getting the hell out of there.

Just as your fingers hovered over the send button, a voice cut through the eerie silence.

"Hey, stranger, what brings you here?"

Your breath hitched in your throat, and before you could even process the words, the locker room flooded with bright light, illuminating the entire space.

Your pulse quickened, and you whiped around to face whoever had just spoken.

Your head snapped over, eyes wide, and your mouth dropped open at the sight in front of you.

Standing by the entrance to the shower area, his hand casually resting on the light switch, was none other than Yuji—the captain of Kaisen's soccer team.

His pink hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping with water from his recent shower.

The steam rising around him only added to the surreal atmosphere. His lean yet muscular frame glistened in the bright lights, every defined muscle on full display, water sliding down his toned chest and abs.

A towel hung loosely around his waist, dangerously low on his hips, barely covering what it needed to.

You couldn't help but stare, feeling your brain short-circuit for a second as the reality of the situation sunk in.

The heat from your earlier practice was nothing compared to the heat now rising to your face as you tried to comprehend what you were looking at.

Yuji's lips curled into a wicked smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, the same playful gesture you'd seen earlier. His voice was smooth, laced with something suggestive, but his tone remained infuriatingly innocent.

"So," he drawled, his eyes flicking over you briefly, "gonna tell me what brings you here? Looking for a midnight snack... or something else?"

The words hit you like a punch.

You choked on your spit, eyes widening as Yuji's words sank in, feeling your face flush even more.

A series of coughs followed, and you quickly clasped a hand over your mouth, your face hot as fire.

You struggled to pull yourself up onto your feet, eyes darting everywhere but him—focused on the ceiling, the lockers, literally anywhere that wasn't the sight of his wet, muscular frame standing there, towel barely hanging on.

"Uh… well…" you started, fumbling over your words as you desperately tried to navigate your way out of the locker room. "One of my squadmates left her compression sleeve, and… well, I came to get it." Your voice wavered as you bumped into a locker, making your way toward the exit, not even noticing when the sound of the shower behind you turned off.

"So, yeah…" you continued, trying to fill the awkward silence. "What can I do, say no? I'm the co-captain, haha…" You gave a nervous laugh, your mind scrambling to come up with something to say, anything to escape this weirdly intimate moment.

Just as the words left your mouth, you suddenly gasped, your breath catching in your throat. Without warning, you bumped into something—someone—solid.

Before you could react, a strong, wet arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling you gently but firmly against a warm, muscular chest.

The heat radiating off the figure seeped through your hoodie, and you could feel droplets of water from their skin soaking into the fabric, sending a shiver down your spine.

You froze, the feeling of firm, veiny muscles around you making your heart race even faster.

The warmth of his body pressed so close to yours made your mind go blank. Tilting your head back just a little, you came face to face with a pair of piercing, dark blue eyes.

Megumi—the co-captain.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on you remained steady, his arm still snug around your waist, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe, your words completely stolen by the intensity of his gaze.

"S-Sorry!" You squeaked out an apology, feeling the heat rising in your face again as you quickly stepped forward, trying to put some distance between yourself and Megumi.

But just as you freed yourself from his grasp, you bumped into something else—something solid. You froze, your body going stiff as you realized what, or rather who, you had just walked into.

Yuji.

You kept your eyes fixed straight ahead, staring at his honey-tanned chest and desperately trying not to ogle his still-dripping frame.

Every muscle in your body felt locked in place, trapped between the two of them.

When you finally managed to tilt your head up, you were met with Yuji's face—except he wasn't smirking this time. He was pouting.

"Really, Megumi?" Yuji whined dramatically, his voice filled with playful irritation. "You always get the cool, sexy entrances. It's not fair! I was just gonna offer to help, but you had to swoop in like that and steal my moment."

Megumi, still standing behind you, rolled his eyes, clearly unbothered by Yuji's theatrics. "It's not a competition," he muttered dryly, his voice low and calm, completely unfazed by Yuji's over-the-top complaint.

You blinked, completely caught off guard, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

Here you were, sandwiched between the captain and co-captain of Kaisen's soccer team, listening to them banter as if this was all totally normal.

You could only stare up at them in complete wonderment, your brain short-circuiting from the surrealness of the situation.

Gulping, you made the mistake of trying to move. Your body shifted slightly, but it only caused you to stumble forward, right into Yuji’s chest. His firm, warm body pressed against yours, and before you could react, you felt his strong arms wrap around you, keeping you in place.

"Whoa, where d'ya think you're going, babe?" Yuji teased, his voice low and playful. He tilted his head to the side, licking his lips as he looked down at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

The nickname sent a shiver through you, and you felt heat rising to your face again as you tried to wiggle free, but his hold on you only tightened.

Your mind raced as you attempted to come up with a reasonable excuse, anything to escape this increasingly compromising situation. "I-I need to get back," you stammered, not quite believing the words yourself as you glanced over your shoulder at Megumi, who was watching you intently. His gaze was sharp, focused, and completely unreadable.

"Oh? But we're just getting started~" Yuji cooed, his voice dripping with amusement as one of his hands moved gently along your back, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

You wanted to move, wanted to push them both away, but every time you tried to pull yourself free, it felt like you were sinking deeper into their grasp, prey to their every suggestion.

Your breath hitched as Megumi finally stepped closer, his tall, imposing figure now looming behind you again. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, a subtle, almost teasing touch that sent your thoughts spiraling.

His dark blue eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the tension building between the three of you, thick and palpable in the air.

"You're not really in a rush, are you?" Megumi asked softly, his tone smooth and laced with a hint of seduction. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second, and before you could protest, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a steamy kiss.

Your mind went blank as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate.

You hadn't expected it, but the heat and intensity of his kiss sent your heart racing.

For a moment, you forgot everything else—the locker room, the late hour, the surrealness of it all—lost in the sensation of his lips claiming yours.

Your resistance melted away as you gave in, your body leaning into his touch.

And just as you found yourself surrendering to Megumi, Yuji's soft chuckle broke through the haze. His arms were still around you, holding you close, and as Megumi pulled back slightly, Yuji tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"Don't forget about me," Yuji murmured, his voice a playful rumble before he pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was different from Megumi's—softer, but no less electrifying.

You felt a jolt of desire shoot through you as Yuji's lips moved against yours, his playful nature evident in the way he kissed you, teasing and tasting like he had all the time in the world.

Megumi's lips left yours only to trail down the side of your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, sending shivers across your skin. At the same time, Yuji deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours with a mix of intensity and playfulness that left you breathless.

Your mind struggled to keep up as you felt a pair of hands slip under your hoodie, splaying across your abdomen, fingers caressing the soft skin of your stomach before they slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

You gasped softly against Yuji's lips, pulling back to catch your breath, but the moment you did, he moved to kiss and suckle along the other side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The sensation of both men kissing you, touching you, made your knees weak.

Yuji hiked up one of your legs, pulling it around his waist to bring you closer, his grip firm as he held you in place.

Your mind was growing hazy with desire, your body caught between the two of them, every nerve alight with sensation. Megumi's lips continued to work against your neck, his hands slipping under your hoodie to hold you steady, while Yuji’s lips and tongue sent waves of heat through you.

Suddenly, Megumi's hand reached up to tilt your head back onto his shoulder, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, his voice low and filled with temptation. "Do you wanna play with us?"

Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest as his words sunk in. You blinked, your heavy-lidded eyes glancing through your lashes to find Yuji's face in front of you.

The pinkette's usual bright and playful expression was now flushed with desire, his eyes dark and heavy as he looked down at you. His grip on your hips tightened, a soft groan escaping his lips as he rocked his hips forward, grinding gently against you.

"Please," Yuji's voice was almost pleading, his tone husky with need. "Can we play with you?"

A/N: lololo ignore me just tryingn my hand at college aus...

[dropoutconfessions]

It makes me incredibly angry when people say "Riz is canonically aro/ace" and act like you're a horrible person if you ship him with people. Like. Nowhere in the show is it ever stated that he's aro/ace. The conversation people reference as him being "canonically" aro/ace is just him expressing his lack of very specifically sexual attraction, and even then the response from his dad (and by extension Brennan and the show as a whole) is that it's okay, and that it's specifically unclear whether he's ace or whether it's just not something that's happened for him in specific yet. It is intentionally vague as to whether he is ace or not, and there's genuinely zero indication in the show that he's aro other than that he doesn't have a love interest which could be completely unrelated.

Right so I'd like to share my opinion on this for a brief moment. I am still fully here to give people a voice, but this is just, an issue that kinda hits close to home since I'm demiaro.

The most annoying thing in a lot of media is when representation is shoehorned in as a list of labels and buzzwords we're given. Queer people should not have to turn to the screen and say their full identity in order for them to be canonically queer. That's what subtext is for. That's what good writing does. Is not spell it out for you when it's not necessary to do so. They do not need it to be spelt out for it to be very clear that he's ace/aro.

I am going to assume ignorance here instead of assuming malicious intent. The idea that the reason he isn't ace, is because "it's not something that's happened for him in specific yet", is an extremely common thought process behind asexual erasure. I'm sure that's not what you intended, but that is something to reflect on in general.

Both Adaine and Riz have yet to have relationships or display crushes (not counting junior year since most of the evidence comes from sophomore year) . Adaine hasn't gotten an entire nightmare sequence / arc around dealing with here friends all finding partners and leaving them alone. Adaine hasn't expressed or had conversations about any lack of sexual or romantic feels to the extent Riz has. Adaine is headcanoned as ace/aro by some people. Riz is more than that. Riz is very much canonically ace/aro if you do the slightest bit of character analysis. There's accidental coding and then there's Riz Gukgak.

List of every single Riz trait that is hella ace/aro coded

A lack of sexual and romantic attraction to other people (I'm not counting the time where he said he was kinda into Sexy Rat, that whole scene was a bit, and absolutely insane)

Making up a partner/crush in order to fit in (I have 1000% done that and so have a lot of acespec and arospec people)

A fear of being left behind by his friends because of a belief that they will find partners and move on from him, largely caused by alloromantic culture's insane emphasis on how the most important relationship is a romantic one

The fact that almost every other fantasy high pc has been in a relationship or a crush (kristen had tracker and gertie, gorgug had zelda, unit, and mary ann, fabian had aelwyn, ivy, and mazey, adaine had oisin and possibly zayn depends on your interpretation, and fig has had ayda and a string of professionals in a variety of fields across seasons 1 and 2) with only riz as a single character

The fact his sophomore year arc was entirely about his lack of sexual/romantic attraction and fear of being left alone because of it

Like not even a joke, it was that and his dad, that was the whole arc

His junior year arc was also about his obsession to stay together as a friend group, which like I mentioned above, is very clearly based in his asexuality and aromanticism

I am not going to stop people from shipping characters ever. If you want to rewrite character sexualities, that's fine by me, I'm a big believer in "Don't Like, Don't Read". I am not gonna pretend like characters are not their sexuality in canon so that people feel justified in writing their stories. People who rewrite character sexuality can do so without making everyone else assuage their guilt for them. I know I'm on the "piss on the poor" reading comprehension website, but it's not hard to tell Riz is ace/aro in canon, and pretending otherwise doesn't help your case.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Omg congratulations on 700! 🎉 It is so so we’ll deserved. I must admit that I reread your work a lot because it is just so good and some of my favorites! 🥰

For the prompt, as always I am a SUCKER for the one bed trope, but I’d like to add another fun element so….

Blue + Lion + Hummingbird perhaps? 😈

Okay this one was a request by many, including my cutie pal @thirstydiglett and @truebluesanji and HOT DOG is it a good one!

Just One Bottle (+18)

Pairing: Sanji x Strawhat Fem!Reader

Prompt: Only One Bed x Aphrodisiac

WC: 2000 lol

Warnings: Open for interpretation on how the pals ended up ingesting the aphrodisiac, forced closeness, unprotected sex, p in v sex, morning after pill discussion, drug use, creampie, Sanji being a gentleman!

— — 

You strolled the aisles of the bookstore as you waited for Sanji to finish up his snail call outside. You ran your fingers across the labels gently as you passed by each shelf. You glanced towards the shop windows and saw that Sanji was outside giving some choice words to whoever was on the end of his transponder snail. The sun was setting and you found yourself captivated by the way the low light reflected off his blonde hair. He looked handsome. 

But he wasn’t your type. He was always fawning over you, even more obnoxiously so than for Nami and Robin. You never gave him half a thought in terms of a choice as a romantic partner, he was just a crew mate that you cared for deeply… as a friend. You turned down another aisle of bookshelves as you could clearly tell that Sanji wasn’t finishing his conversation any time soon. 

You found yourself stopped at the romance section and pulled a bright purple tome off the shelf. “Part Time Human, Full Time Lover…” You read the title to yourself before flipping it open. You find yourself reading a rather graphic passage describing an intimate encounter between the human protagonist and her well-endowed centaur lover. “Goodness…” You whisper to yourself as you find yourself flipping the page in interest. 

“Y/n!” You snap the book closed instinctively as you hear your name called. Sanji was rounding the corner of the aisle and came up to you. 

“Sanji! Hi!” You hurriedly put the book back on the shelf. “Any news?” 

“Well, the sun is going down fast and the moss head idiot got his group lost so we have to stay on the island for the night. We’re all too far apart to get back to the Sunny. We can find an inn around here and get some rooms.” Sanji explains to you. 

“Fine, hopefully somewhere with a restaurant. I’m starving.” You smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a night off from cooking?” You raise an eyebrow at the tall blonde. 

“I guess. Don’t expect the same quality of food that you’d get back on the ship. Shall we?” Sanji remarks as he gestures to the door of the bookstore, letting you go first. 

— —

After wandering the small village for awhile, the two of you find a small inn that had a tavern on the first floor. You ducked in, trying not to draw attention seeing as the two of you were highly wanted pirates. 

Sanji strode confidently to the front desk. 

“We require two rooms for the night. Money is no issue.” Sanji stoically demands of the innkeeper. 

“Sir I’m sorry… but we only have one room left tonight… I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate…” The mousey old man behind the counter said as his voice trembled. 

“This kind of dump has no vacancy? You’re telling me that this hole in the wall has only one room available-“

“We’ll take it.” You pushed past Sanji’s shoulder and placed your stack of Beri on the counter. 

The innkeeper’s eyes danced from your smile to Sanji’s scowl. 

“We’ll take it.” Sanji echoed, lowering his voice. 

“E-e-excellent news! I will issue you your keys now. Would the couple like one set or two?” The old man sputters out. 

“Two.” “One.”

You say two and Sanji replies with one. He clears his throat. 

“Two, please sir.” Sanji changes his response. 

The old man issues you two sets of keys and hands you your change after you pay for the room. 

“Please, enjoy our restaurant. You may find that sharing a room is not uncommon among couples at this hotel.” The innkeeper mentions. 

You look up at Sanji. 

“I am kind of hungry, Sanji. Shall we?” You question. 

“Can’t go to bed with any empty stomach, can we?” Sanji shrugs. 

Sanji put his hand on the small of your back and led you in the direction of the small restaurant. 

“Two of you?” The stout hostess asked and you nodded. She led you and Sanji to a candlelit table in the back of the pub. Of course, Sanji pulled your chair out for you. Once seated across from one another, you picked up the drink menu. 

“The room was so cheap… should we get the champagne?” You smirk over the menu across the table at Sanji. 

“Nami would kill us… what’s the label?” Sanji gestures to grab the drink menu from you and you hand it to him. His brows furrow. “I actually haven’t heard of this brand before… but it’s expensive… must be from the South Blue…” Sanji quirks a curled eyebrow up at you. “Should we?”

The sides of your mouth curl up. 

“Yes.” 

Sanji breaks into a grin as the waitress arrived at your table. 

“Anything I can get you two tonight?” The cute redheaded waitress asked you both. 

“We’ll start with a bottle of the champagne.” Sanji says to the waitress. “And for food… anything your recommend for a night on the town?” He says with a smirk. 

“Oh, I think our chef can do something for you.” The waitress says with a smile. 

“Perfect.” Sanji says as he snaps his menu closed and hands it to the waitress. 

— — 

The two of you had finished your bottle of champagne and dinner and were waiting around for the waitress to bring you your bill. 

“No no, it really was lovely. I just have never had a champagne like this…” Sanji says as the two of you discuss dinner. 

“The oysters were a nice touch, I thought.” You remark. 

“Mr BlackLeg sir thank you…” The waitress interrupts as he places a large stack of Beri on the tray containing your bill. 

“That was a nice tip you left…” You say as Sanji ushers you softly out of your seat, covering your back with his suit jacket. “Far more than most would.” You didn’t feel drunk, but you felt some strange warmth growing in your lower half. It started building when you drank that damned champagne. 

“It’s nothing for someone who used to work in hospitality. Their service is worth far more than the champagne.” Sanji says as he guides you to the stairs, leading you up to your room on the third floor. 

You reach your room and Sanji fumbles with the keys before getting the lock open. The door opens to reveal a small room with a queen size bed and an ensuite bathroom. 

“I-I can sleep on the floor.” Sanji says immediately. You turned and saw that his cheeks were bright pink. Was it from the alcohol?

“It’s fine, we’re adults. Let’s just get to bed.” You respond and begin stripping off your pants. You then unstrap your bra and take it off through the front of your shirt. Sanji hesitates for a second before stripping down to just his boxers. 

“I’ll take this side.” You said awkwardly as you slide into the bed. 

“Right. Goodnight then.” Sanji shuts off the lights and hops into bed on the side opposite you. 

“Yep. Night.” You curl up into your side, so that you wouldn’t encroach on your crew mates sleeping space. 

All you can hear is labored breathing. 

Was it your own?

Was it Sanji’s?

Something was off. You couldn’t sleep. 

Why was your pulse thrumming in your privates? Why was there slick gushing out of your slit to soak your underwear? Nothing even remotely sexual has happened tonight and yet your levels of arousal were off the charts. You tossed and turned for several minutes trying to ignore it, having the ache between your legs only grow more intense. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Sanji?” You whisper out into the darkness. 

“Gods, Y/N, tell me you feel like I do right now.” Sanji responds in between pants. 

“What the fuck happened to us?” You breath out to the dark ceiling above you. 

“Something in that drink…” Sanji breathes out. “It fucking hurts…” 

You peer over to your left and see Sanji grabbing at his crotch beneath the sheets. 

“They drugged us.” You pant out, right hand delving into your panties and rubbing at your clit, trying to get some relief from the burn this mysterious wine was causing you. 

“I-I don’t know how to say this, mon cherie… But what if we… helped each other…" Sanji said as he saw you pleasuring yourself beneath the bed covers. 

“Right… it’s just helping a friend…” You say softly as you touch your sex further, reaching your left hand out under the sheets to wrap around Sanji’s erect penis. 

“YES- I mean, yes-“ Sanji jerks at your touch. “It’s just relieving each other…”

“Okay… fine…” You relent. 

Sanji jumps up and positions himself above you in a nanosecond. You take this time to push your panties down and your t-shirt over your head.

“Spread your legs for me, my love…” Sanji whispers as he hovers over you. “Show me what you need…” 

“Sanji please, I need you inside of me.” You pleaded as you brought your hand down to spread your pussy lips. “Sanji why does it hurt?! Please help me!” You bucked your hips in his direction. You were desperate. 

“I’m gonna fix it, okay? I’m gonna stop it from hurting. Do you want that, y/n?” Sanji asked. 

“Yes! Please help me!” You cried out again as you saw Sanji pull himself fully from his boxers. 

Sanji dances the head of his dick across you clit as you whimpered. 

“I’ve got you, mon amour…” Sanji assures you as he leans down and pushes his cock into your trembling hole. 

“OH-!” The moan is ripped from your lungs as you feel the throbbing head of Sanji’s member push past your g-spot to fill you completely. “Fucking finally-“ You groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the fullness you’ve been craving in your bones finally being fulfilled. 

“More, more, more….” You chant as Sanji bucks his hips into yours with a fervent pace. Whatever aphrodisiac was in that wine had fully engulfed your brain and all you wanted was a thick cock inside of you stretching you out. The only thing you could focus on was the wet glide of Sanji’s heavy dick in and out of your hole. “Please, more!” You cried. 

“My love, I’ll give you everything you want…” Sanji’s eagerness to please came through as he pushed your thighs up towards your chest, allowing him further access to your favorite spot. “Need you to cum on me… please..” He begged. 

“M-More.. want more..." You whimper out. 

Sanji takes one of his hands from the crook of your knee and places it around your neck gently. He leans in and places a tender kiss on your lips. He moves his other hand to the top of your sex. Sanji slips two fingers inside of you next to his own cock, assuring you're full to the brim and your favorite spot is being stroked with every thrust.

"San-ji! So- Fuckin- Full!" You cried out in the throws of pleasure, finally feeling exactly what you wanted.

“I can’t do this much longer, mon cherie, so wet and so tight…” Sanji groans into your lips as he ruts into you like an animal. “Need you to cum…” 

“I’m…cumming… fuck!” You scrunch your eyes shut and scratch at Sanji’s naked back. 

“So perfect….” Sanji whimpers into your sweaty neck as he shoots his load into you. You stroked his neck all the way down to the base of his spine. 

“Aaah- Fuck- Ah!” You hear the cook grunt into your flesh as he digs his hips into yours further. 

“A-are you cumming again?” You ask with a heavy sigh, coming down from your own orgasm. 

“Sh-shiiiit….” Sanji groans. Tears prick at your eyes as overstimulation sets in. “M-my love…” 

You feel Sanji’s hips drive further into yours, impossibly deep. He was emptying yet another massive load in you in less than a few minutes, it was spilling filthily out of your hole around his cock. Sanji collapsed almost immediately on top of you without pulling out. 

Sanji wrapped his arms around your torso and settled in.

“You know you’re going to have to ask Chopper about a ‘morning after’ situation, right?” You muse as you stroke Sanji’s lower back. 

“I think the embarrassment is worth it.” Sanji smirks as he nuzzles into your breast. 

You smile and pull your love-cook close to fall asleep.

— —

Hope you ALL enjoyed!

xx

Mo 

[stellarbit]

The Batch Comfort You

Word Count: 2.1k Pairing: One excerpt for each of the boys Warnings: Nada Anon requested the Batch reacting to you saying, "I'm so stupid! Seriously, how can you stand to be around someone like this?" So here we go

You'd made another mistake, adding to the already colossal pile of ones you'd made recently. And worse, your whole team lay witness to the most recent. Upon landing for refuel, everyone besides you took the opportunity to stretch their legs. Everyone else except for one.

"You shouldn't let it get to you." They said, seeing that you were clearly still upset. "Just let it go."

In a burst of misdirected frustration you snapped at them, "I'm so stupid. Seriously, how can you stand to be around someone like this?!" You stormed off towards the ship's exit.

Tech

Tech watched you slump against the Marauder’s step. Your elbows were resting on your knees while your head hung between your shoulders. A quick shake ran through you, a suppressed heave marked only by the fast motion. 

Gripping his datapad tighter, Tech considered what to do. This was an irregular response from you and not one he necessarily knew how to navigate. But he was certain of one thing.

Tucking his datapad away, Tech descended the stairs and took up a seat next to you.

You were quick to duck your head into your hands, but not quick enough for Tech to miss the wet streaks staining your face. Turning his eyes forward, Tech afforded you what little privacy the situation allowed.

The technician rubbed his hands over his thighs, preparing himself one last time before saying, “It is not unusual for one to become frustrated with one’s flaws and mistakes.”

One might describe that sound you made as a choked laugh, others may have called it a sob. Which it was, Tech could not say for sure.

“Flaws and mistakes.” You parroted in a cracked voice. “Two things I’m full of.”

Tech glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Yes. As all humans are.” Your answer, another strangled sound, gave Tech pause. Running his hands over his thighs in another soothing motion, he clutched his knees. His attempts at helping were clearly doing the opposite. 

Maybe if he tried another approach… “By chance, do you know the definition of ‘stupid?’” Tech asked.

On an exasperated sigh, you lifted your head to finally turn your tear stained, blotchy face to Tech. “Lacking knowledge and making mistakes.”

Tech made a thoughtful hum and pivoted slightly to face you. “You are partially correct. However the complete definition would be ‘having a lack of intelligence or common sense.’”

You blinked before giving an empty shrug and scoffing. “How is that any different?”

Tech bit the inside of his cheek, this topic was quickly putting him out of his depth. But he wanted to help - to see you happy and sure of yourself again.

Clearing his throat, Tech looked away momentarily as he asked. “Do you find me intelligent?”

“Of course.” You replied without pause. 

Turning to face you again, Tech hummed, “Well, I am currently struggling to comfort you at this moment.” He rolled one shoulder in a half shrug. “Some might surmise that is a result of lacking common sense and, by definition, that would make me stupid.”

“Tech you are not stupid.” Your tone was defensive, almost offended that Tech would insinuate such a thing.

“Neither are you.” He retaliated.

You blinked once, then twice, and a wobbly smile cracked to the surface. “Thank you, Tech.”

Tech smiled, patting your shoulder before using you as support to stand up. “It is something I am happy to remind you of in the future, should you need it.”

Wrecker

Wrecker trailed after you, taking steps two at a time to cut your path short. You stood on the last step, eyes cast downwards and shoulders shaking. Wrecker’s heart ached as he realized you were trying so hard not to cry.

“Hey, hey.” He said as took your hand in his. As he feared, even your hand was shaking. Wrecker knelt to the ground, gently guiding you down with him. “What’s all this all of the sudden?”

You blinked, attempting to keep back the tears, but it didn’t stop the sob to come. “I’m sorry.” Your voice warbled. Shaking your head, you kept your gaze lowered. “I can’t even keep it together.”

The large man extended a hand to tilt your chin up with a knuckle, but you still refused to meet his gaze. Wrecker took his knuckle and brushed away a few tears only for more to take their place.

“You’re not stupid.” Wrecker said firmly.

Unconvinced, you whispered back, “You’re my friend- you have to say that.”

“Oh, no I don’t.” Wrecker twisted on his heals, pivoting to get in your sights and finally pull your watery attention to him. When you met his gaze a wide grin spread across Wrecker’s face complimented by a wink. “I’m saying it because I know it.” Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Wrecker got to his feet and extended a hand, palm up, to you

“Besides,” Wrecker started saying in a light tone, wiggling his fingers in invitation to you. Rolling your eyes, you conceded and placed your hand in his. Wrecker immediately lifted you to your feet. “I like you ‘cause of the way you make me feel.” He stood on his toes to playfully whisper, “And for how pretty you are.”

You scoffed hard, giving him a light push back. The blush his compliment gave you only made your face all the redder. “Well that doesn’t make me feel better. You’re half-blind, Wrecker.”

Wrecker chuckled triumphantly. “Ha! There it is.”

“What?”

Using both hands, Wrecker held the side of your face, still damp from crying, and touched the corners of your mouth. “Your smile.”

Again, his comment made your stomach flutter. You hadn’t even realized you were smiling.

Echo

Echo caught you by your elbow, pulling you back to meet his eye.“Oh no you don’t.” He said in an almost scolding tone.

“Let go.” You grunted as you tried to pull away, but Echo held fast. Your eyes darted between his hold on you and his eyes. 

Turning you to face him fully, Echo pressed on, “You can’t give up every time it gets tough.”

You recoiled. “I’m not giving up.” You were quickly going from upset to offended and Echo could see it. The situation didn’t call for the militant approach. 

Echo sighed, releasing you as he did. “A bad situation got the better of you and you call yourself stupid?” The cyborg gave a disapproving shake of his head. “That’s giving up on yourself.” His call out instantly deflated what little energy you had left. Watching your shoulders drop, Echo thought to himself, Softer, soldier. 

Coming to your side, Echo placed a hand on the small of your back, mumbling softly. “C’mon.” Guiding you into a chair near the nav screens, he took a seat across from you.

“Listen,” Echo’s voice was softer than usual. He leaned in to touch your knee, continuing, “Not everything is going to go well, that’s just a fact of life. But all you can do is learn and move on. So, stop beating yourself up so much.”

Somehow he was riling you up further. It was as if you were offended he would even try to challenge you on this. You leaned in sharply, hissing, “I do move on. Then I mess up and I move on and mess up again. And on and on I go with a trail of fuck ups behind me.”

“There are wins in there too.” Echo challenged, firming his grip on your knee. His hazel eyes darted between yours, his features softening as he chuckled, “Your enemies better be glad for all this self doubt of yours.” He patted your knee and leaned back in his chair.

“Why?” You asked hesitantly.

“Because if you believed in yourself half as much as I believe in you, there’s nothing you couldn’t do.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Your eyes fell to where his hand had been, considering what he just said. Your stomach flipped over when you met his eyes again. “You really mean that?”

“I really mean that.” He’d barely gotten the words out when your arms made it around his neck. Echo sat still, hands flared at his sides, as you nestled into you.

“I can do that.” You said into his shoulder.

Echo softly smiled, allowing his hands to rest on your back. “Do what?”

He felt you smile into his neck as you said, “Believe in me like you do.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Echo hummed, leaning his head against yours.

Crosshair

“Oh, get over it.” Crosshair’s snarky tone stopped you mid step. Turning back, you watched him prop out a foot and put a toothpick between his lips. “Something went wrong. It happens. Moping about solves nothing..”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. Tossing a hand in his direction you said, “You are good at everything you do. You’ve no idea what it’s like to be like me.”

A snarl curled Crosshair’s lip. The reaction wasn’t meant for you, but for whoever made you believe you were less. He rolled the toothpick in his mouth to one side before removing it completely. 

Stepping forward, Crosshair pointed the toothpick at you and drawled, “Stop the dramatics, you’re fine the way you are.”

The realization that Crosshair was complimenting you pricked you with shame. You must look pretty pathetic for Crosshair to be pitying you. Your lips pressed into a tight line in an attempt to hold your composure. “You don’t mean that.”

Crosshair’s eyes momentarily widened. He was used to you fighting and your strong spirit. Hearing you sound so defeated - so worn down - pulled at something in him.  He closed the gap between you and muttered. “I don’t lie.”

His sudden proximity caught you off guard and brought with it the smell of mint and gun oil. You couldn’t control the reflexive inhale you took. If nothing else, he did a fine job of distracting you. You were so distracted you flinched when he rested a hand on your head. 

Gently, he stroked his hand over your hair. “Everyone has their moments.” A soft smirk perked his lips as he added, “Even me.”

“You’re being awfully nice.” You said softly, sounding more breathless than you had intended

Crosshair’s smirk grew. Snorting, he flicked you in the forehead. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Wincing as you rubbed your forehead you asked, “Then you mean it?”

Groaning, Crosshair rolled his eyes and pulled you by the chin. “I won’t say it again.” He said gruffly. In a lighter tone he continued, “You are not stupid. You’re fine the way you are.”

The sniper paused, watching as your words sunk in. He was starting to enjoy seeing these new expressions. He just needed one more push. “Got it, sweetheart?”

His words sent a chill up your spine. A satisfied smirk settled on him as heat singed your cheeks and ears. “Much better.”

Hunter

Hunter let you go, but kept an eye on you as you made for the outskirts of camp. He knew what it was like to be mad with yourself and he knew sometimes a little space helps. Eventually you did make your way back inside.

You checked for Hunter, hoping to sneak over to the fresher without his notice. Until you were toweling off your face, you thought you’d succeeded. Until you lowered your towel, found Hunter standing a few paces away and nearly jumped out of your skin.

He raised his hands, one holding a warm cup of caf and the other holding a ration bar. “Easy there.” He chuckled warmly.

A flush crept up your neck as your earlier shame reared its head again. Twisting the towel between your hands, you nervously laughed out an apology. Nodding to the items he held, you asked, “Afternoon snack?”

Hunter didn’t answer, but smiled at you and nodded towards the bunks as he stepped back towards them. For a moment you forgot your embarrassment and followed Hunter to the bottom bunk. He put the food in your hand and gestured for you to sit. Once down, Hunter sat right up against you and put the warm cup in your free hand.

You stared at your now full hands for a few blinks before looking back at Hunter with more confusion. With a soft laugh he wrapped an arm around you. “Feeling better?”

You silently nodded in response for fear of your voice cracking.

Hunter seemed pleased, having contemplated during your absence how best to comfort you. Not one for many words, he resorted to simple gestures. “Decaf,” he mentioned, tapping the rim of your mug. “A warm drink and a bite to eat always seem to help.” He began gently rubbing your arm in a comforting rhythm.

“Hey.” Hunter’s voice dropped to a softer tone, “You’re not stupid. You do your best everyday. You might not see it, but we all do.” He gave your arm a light squeeze and added, “So, have a little more faith in yourself.”

Your eyes fell to the caf and ration bar again, your grip on the cup tightening. “And what if I keep failing?”

Hunter shook his head, “That kind of thinking doesn’t do anyone any good.” He leaned forward to catch your eyes. “All we can do is keep going and try to be better.”

Clearing the lump forming in your throat and took a sip of the warm drink. Hunter was right, the caf did help.

@baddest-batchers

[tadpolesonalgae]

The Libraries

Helion x reader

a/n: I haven’t written for him in a long time so I hope he isn’t insanely ooc! 🧡💛

word count: 1,287

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“What may I find for you today, High Lord?” You ask, peering over the bright red rim of your pointed glasses. 

“So cold to me,” Helion drawls, bracing his forearms on the lip of your desk, the golden snake that bands around his bicep digging into the dark skin as the powerful muscles shift. “Didn’t you miss me while I was gone, peaches?” 

“It was certainly emptier,” you reply neutrally. “Now, what may I find for you?” 

“Can I not visit simply for the pleasure of your company?” The High Lord inquires, faux hurt showing in his sturdy features. “Pleasure certainly seems to be the main motive for your scholarly trips,” you reply, returning you gaze to the charts spread out on your desk, marking which books are due to be switched out and moved, and which sections are due to have new additions to their already full shelves. 

“Anything new?” The High Lord asks, and you can hear the wicked grin on his mouth without having to glance up. “A few things, since your last visit,” you reply, reaching over to the short list you’d scribbled down, now pulling it over and handing it to him to look through. Helion raises a brow as he scans through the short compilation. “Fully illustrated?” He repeats, clearly reading the note you’d added beside one of the titles. “Fully illustrated,” you repeat back in confirmation, ink pen scratching as you make an annotation for some sections to be swapped around. “And you verified that personally?” Helion asks, his deep voice taking on a low, suggestive drawl. 

“Personally,” you repeat back, again in conformation, still not paying him the attention he’s seeking. 

“Will you show me to it?” He asks, trying to pry you away from your desk. 

“You know the section,” you reply, a hint of amusement in your tone, but still annotating. 

“I don’t see anyone else requiring your attention,” Helion drawls, “and I didn’t come just for the book…” 

“To.” You correct, without looking up. 

“…to?” Helion repeats, blinking. 

“And I didn’t come just to the book, is what you meant to say,” you answer, a faint upward tilt at the corners of your normally straight-pressed lips. “Your humour is as sharp as your tongue, I see,” Helion says, huffing a low laugh that has the hairs on your forearms raising. 

At last you look up, and Helion resists the urge to stand upright, keeping his positioning casual as he looks into your eyes, partially warped by those red-pointed glasses. “Have you returned the last one you borrowed?” You inquire, reaching for a blank piece of parchment. Helion raises a brow, “you’ve let me borrow tens at a time, why does this book require an urgent return?” 

“It’s on the list to be shipped out to the continent. I take it you haven’t yet returned it?” You ask, and Helion shakes his head. You nod, scribbling something down before handing it to him. “A reminder,” you say when he takes it from your fingers, “to please return it at your earliest convenience. I understand you have a lot on your plate.” 

“Like a troublesome librarian who looks at me with a particularly…” —you shoot him a sharp glare over the red rims— “…bloodcurdling, expression,” he finishes. You hum, the doubt clear in the sound. You both know he wasn’t going to say bloodcurdling. 

“Now, will you do me the honour of showing me where this particular book is being kept?” He requests, a faint grin on his lips. 

“I suppose it is part of my job,” you reply, “even if you are taking advantage of that.” A distinctly satisfied expression appears on the High Lord of Day’s features as you stand from your desk, the knee-length robes that sit over your clothes swishing with the motion, and you set off down one of the long aisles, knowing Helion is keeping close behind. Able to feel the direction of his attention, too, despite the coverage of the robes. You shoot him a look over your shoulder, and he offers a questioning smile that has you rolling your eyes. 

It takes some minutes to reach the darkened corner of the library this particular book has been stored, and a while longer for you to climb the ladder that will carry you to the shelf it sits on, but at last you find it, handing it over to the High Lord who opens the first page with slight interest. 

“And to think you’ve looked through all of this already,” he remarks, eyes scanning across the few lines of writing beside the illustration. “I’m surprised you could tolerate such lewd imagery,” he muses, glancing at you with a faint grin, “did it bother you, much?” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you reply blandly, waving your hand dismissively. Helion hums, flipping the page over, eyes passing over the parchment with surprising restraint, then raises his brows. “You’ve seen things like this before?” He asks, half teasing, half serious. 

“Are you surprised?” You reply, brow slightly furrowed, “I’ve been working in these libraries for centuries now, I’ve seen all sorts of things. I doubt anything could shock me anymore.” 

“So if I got to put you in some of these positions…” 

“How very inappropriate of you, High Lord,” you reply, shooting him a look from over top your glasses, before making to move past him. 

You’re vaguely surprised when his large palm wraps carefully around your upper arm, prompting you to pause but not tight enough you couldn’t continue walking if you’d like to. 

You glance back up at him, listening. 

“Do my advances bother you?” He asks, sincerely. “I assume you don’t mind them from your occasional jokes, but I don’t wish to bring discomfort to where you’re required to work.” 

“I had no idea you were attempting advances, High Lord,” you reply, lightly shifting your arm, and he releases you without complaint. “I find that hard to believe,” the High Lord replies questioningly. “You’re flirtatious with most people you encounter, I wasn’t under the impression I was receiving any special treatment.” 

“Would you like special treatment?” He asks, his voice lowered a little, and you narrow your eyes on him. 

“I like genuine interest,” you reply, “I like commitment, and certainty—things I don’t believe you’re yet interested in.” Something shifts behind his eyes, but you wave your hand again, “which is fine. We seek different things.”

“You aren’t interested in finding out what might happen?” He asks, lips curved with a gleam in his eyes. “I would have thought that by nature you’d want to satisfy your curiosity.” 

“I have lived a long life, and I have seen a lot of things, as I’ve said. There are very few topics I’m still curious about, High Lord,” you reply. 

“Not even how it might feel to lay with me for one night?” He asks, that mischievous look on his features. 

But, “no. I’m afraid not.” 

Your lips twitch faintly at the slight surprise in his features before its swiftly concealed. “You’re free to continue as you like, though, so long as you don’t cause any trouble for my coworkers,” you say. “We had a new one in a few days ago and I don’t want you traumatising him with your literature tastes.” 

Helion grins, mischievous look returning, more promising than it was before. “Very well,” he replies, eyes glinting, “I’ll return the book as soon as I can. And I’ll remember to make my advances more clear, next time.”

You turn to head back to your desk, but not swiftly enough that Helion doesn’t catch the upward tug of your mouth. “I look forward to it, High Lord.”

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