#also. whered the fucking gate come from???

[parkersbliss]

Carry-On | J. MacTavish

pairing: soap x female reader (idk he calls them lassie so)

warnings: none just fluff 'cause idk this was cute in my head?

synopsis: something something meeting soap in an airport late for a flight

a/n: just had this random thought and I thought it was cute for soap like just imagine meeting this scot at an airport and he handles your luggage?? yeah thanks bye

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requests open for call of duty!

--

Your feet pound mercilessly on the ground, eyes scanning the signs above your head and the ensuing clacking of wheels on the tile behind you. Inside your head, you can hear a clock ticking with every second you are trying to race it. 

This just had to happen to you, of all days and all people. It was (Y/N) starring in the no good, very horrible, everything gone wrong day. You grip your bag a little tighter as you stop in hopes of assessing your location. Your eyes dart all over the vastness of the airport. The skylights flooded the room with sparkling sun, the dull white and gray of beams crisscrossing in what was probably a modern design. Signs are located in every direction, with letters, numbers, and arrows accompanying them. 

People skirted past you, knocking shoulders, mumbling apologies, and even yelling to get out of the way. But by this point of the day, you honestly couldn’t give two shits. You had a flight to catch and it would be really nice if you couldfigure out where. 

“Attention all passengers: Flight UA43 is now boarding.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse loudly. You pull your phone from your pocket, fingers splaying over the screen to log in and view your boarding pass. In the meantime, your legs begin carrying you in the direction of where you believe the gate is. You make quick hurried steps, still checking your phone and dragging your small carry-on suitcase. 

It was your fault, really, when you collided with a brick wall and your phone flew to the ground, your carry-on toppling over, more crashing sounds, and a pair of arms around your waist. One hand splays across your back to keep you from falling and the other digs into the flesh of your waist.

“I got ya!” 

Stumbling a bit, you immediately grabbed what was in front of you. It turns out it wasn’t a wall, rather, someone’s shirt. You could feel the rippling muscles underneath.

“Oh god! I’m so sorry!” You usher out. 

At the same time: “shit, shit, ‘m sorry!” 

You stared straight into his chest, letting go of his shirt as he dropped the hand on your waist. Your face burned with heat at the thought of being so close to a stranger. You can’t help the cologne that floats off him like a whisper, begging you to come closer. He smells like bergamot and iris, a refreshing earthy scent that leaves you reeling. 

“I wasn’t paying attention,” You explained, both you and the stranger picking up your fallen luggage, and his hand left your back.

“Neither was I. My fault.” 

You pause when you stand back up with your phone and finally get a good look at him. It should be a crime the way whatever you were gonna say next falls completely silent as cerulean eyes pierce into you. It should also be a crime that you managed to forget about the flight you’re desperately trying to catch in exchange for a man who is jaw-drop gorgeous, with a mohawk and you think you heard an accent.

The intercom announces your flight again and you shake your head. “I have to catch this flight—,” You’re already moving in the direction of your gate. No way were you coughing up another $500 because of horrible time management. 

“UA34?” He asked, his suitcase clacking behind him as he caught up to you. 

You turn to look at him. “Yeah.” 

He gives you a toothy grin. “Seems we’re both a little loss then, aye?” 

You can’t help the way the corner of your lips turn up a bit. You weren’t going to be the last person on this flight. “You too?”

He nods his head in the direction of your gate. “C’mon, lassie, we got a flight to catch.” 

Without thinking, he’s grabbing your free hand and dragging you through the airport. He weaves through the crowd like an expert, dodging left and right and slipping through the spaces between two people. You’re stumbling behind him, both yours and his luggage clicking loudly against the tile. It’s a catastrophe of noises as you mumble apologies to passing people who gasp and shout. Yet somehow, you find yourself more focused on the warm hand in yours leading you to salvation. 

He lets go of your hand as you break from the crowd and can see your flashing gate number at the end of the stupidly long hall. You both break into a run, turning to face each other and laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Your bag swings wildly at your side as you race next to him to a flight you didn’t think you were gonna make. 

“C’mon!” He shouts, waving his hand forward. 

“This is crazy!” 

You nearly crash into a couple and their coffee, shouting an apology as you rush through the airport. He grabs your hand again when you start slowing down, clasping the handles of your luggage in the other. 

“We catching this flight, or not?” He teases, not nearly as breathless as you. “Haul ass, lassie!” 

You grip his hand a little tighter, something like a spark of determination that wasn’t there before arising as you let him pull you the final steps. 

“Well, you just made it!” The flight attendant said as you both fumbled to hand over your boarding passes. 

“Thanks,” You pant, flashing the stranger a tired smile. He matches it, blue eyes flickering with pride. 

“Enjoy your flight,” She said, tearing away the ticket and ushering you inside.

He lets you go first, still carrying your luggage that you’d honestly forgotten about. You weave between seats, searching for your row and number. You’re waiting for him to break apart from you, but he doesn’t.

You finally find it. “This is me.” You drop your hands to your side. 

He nods and with ease, lifts your carry-on into the compartment above your seat and then his. 

You fall into your seat, strapping the buckle across and taking a deep breath. You watch as he slams the compartment shut and you’re prepared to say goodbye before he sits down next to you. 

“Name’s Johnny,” He greeted, extending a hand. “But you can call me Soap.” 

You shake his hand, a little pointless for formalities as he had already dragged you hand-in-hand through an airport. “(Y/N). Why Soap?” 

Soap smiles at you again, all pearly whites and laugh lines you want to trace. “You’ve got a whole flight to find that out, lassie.” 

– END –

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🏷 soap taglist: @looking1016 @Bitchyzombietaco @lilwinchester67 @crypticlxrsh @echo9821

[utilitycaster]

Following on the last answer you gave about Laura/Ashley.

What I'm stuck on is that this fear of making a mistake is not a new thing? They've been like this for all of this campaign, note Ashley not wanting to take the shard, Laura's constant fear of letting Imogen's mom stay on the moon, etc. And to a degree, I get it! Exandria is a pretty expensive and important source material - there's an Amazon series!!! - and it's scary to make any huge decisions in it. Additionally, I understand the feeling that there's something specific that the DM wants and you're just not getting it. But I keep wondering, how hard is it for Matt to sit them down and be like. Fuck around man, it's fine! (Or even the opposite! Give them some railroads, they're all over the place!) You know? It just feels to me that Matt can solve so many of these problems outside the stream with a quick convo and I'm so confused why that's not happening.

(I didn't watch this episode completely because the discussion at the end was giving me a very bad case of secondhand embarrassment due to how stupid it was. So if this happened and I missed it, feel free to ignore this.)

Yeah that is where I am at, and this is the MOST speculative I will get to the point that I'm making it nonrebloggable but my personal guess is that like. I watched a LOT of interviews at the start of C2, as a new viewer who was looking for more stuff (which...ultimately just resulted in a C1 binge) and the cast was at the time very cognizant of wanting to prove C1 wasn't a fluke and that they could tell another great story in the world with new characters. But they also prepped EXTENSIVELY for it; and also, in this case, I think a lot of the world was in a somewhat more nebulous state (ie, I think Matt probably had the concept of an ancient archmage plotting to release a god-eater possibly that far back...but I think Liam's concept for Caleb very much influenced the nature of the Assembly and gave Matt a place to put proto-Ludinus).

I think that with two campaigns under their belt, I don't want to say they rested on their laurels, because as I've said repeatedly the caliber of the vast majority of other things they've put out has remained high. But I think that because Campaigns 1 and 2 came together so well Matt might not have realized that Campaign 3, and his fairly specific intended plot, required more work and different work. Like, it required the level of planning and railroading you see for dimension 20 seasons. Campaign 2 could meander and focus on characters because the main goal it needed to achieve in a presumably 3 campaign story was worldbuilding, and I wonder if the fact that it diverged almost entirely from Matt's vision and still came out great obfuscated the fact that this wouldn't work for C3. Campaign 3 really needed to have realized and invested characters right out the gate with knowledge of the world. Like, I think it could have been solved with a conversation but I also think that there's been some sufficient "wtf" choices (bringing in Abu as the Arch Heart without any specific guidelines is one that comes to mind) that I wonder if the cast has entirely internalized how much this doesn't cohere narratively. And also, to be fair, I've played in D&D campaigns that didn't have a great plot or really any at all but I was having enough fun hanging out with my friends that I didn't really care, and since we weren't being filmed it didn't matter. It's a lot easier to see this stuff from the outside, is my thought. I don't think it's hard in terms of time and effort, but also, I know I kept thinking "oh HERE'S the course correction, finally!" pretty much up until the last ten or so episodes. I wouldn't be surprised if he kept thinking "surely this will pull together."

[redfacedpalindrome]

okay i wanna get this straight early, while we're still 10 sundays from melbourne. kimi antonelli is an actual 18 year old. he is a teenager. look at his fucking babyface. and he doesn't seem to be a 'consumed by the energy of hellfire and the incidental potential to ruin kvyat's life' teenager like max verstappen (this is not max hate, i love him, but dear god even now i would run and hide from 17 year old max verstappen in race mode and i think that's just normal self-preservation instinct).

maybe kimi is the second coming of ayrton senna and blasts through the entire grid in the first moments of the next season. or maybe he's 18 years old and he does fine or even not that fine as he adjusts to f1. but i propose that what we really shouldn't do is immediately write off his potential or overhype him to the point of failure based on his first couple races or his first season. there's so much pressure that comes with being chosen for a frontrunner team like mercedes, and toto clearly has faith in kimi. also kimi is just good, smart and hardworking, like his instant recall of lap times and his clear dedication to the sport- he earned his spot here. we gotta give him time to just figure it out initially. until then, george is literally chomping at the bit to be the next mercedes jesus so we'll see how that goes.

i only mention this because the other rookies are in teams like haas, alpine, sauber, vcarb, where their performance will be judged differently.

if in 10 weeks kimi comes out of the gate absolutely swinging and this entire post ages like milk, that's actually my best case scenario.

[scoobydoodean]

wait that video includes 4.01... the scene where sam thinks dean is a demon/trick and both him and bobby were prepared for a violent reaction because they had no fucking clue what could raise dean from hell so he Should be a trick? the same episode where dean has to fight bobby because he ALSO thinks dean is a demon?????? bro. the bias. (the point is that those scenes are some of the most justified violence in the show and i bet none of the characters hold it against each other)

I guess it is a little funny that we brush right over Sam and Bobby both immediately attacking Dean with knives and refusing to believe him at first. Also, I would like to point out that samgirls make a huge deal out of bodily autonomy, but only if it's Sam's, because they don't give a shit about Sam's shady ass behavior all season 3. In fact, they're more likely to argue that Dean refusing to agree to shady plans Sam comes up with in the name of saving Dean's life is Dean controlling Sam lmao. While Dean may get aggressive when it comes to demanding answers on how he was revived in 4.01 (that whole scene is so silly and overdramatic lmao) assuming Sam is the one who brought him back isn't exactly shocking, given they had multiple fights in season 3 where Sam expressed a desire to and acted on plans to deliberately disrespect Dean's wishes about his own life/body. And in 4.01, Sam says "I wish I had done it" and screams at Dean that he tried to make a demon deal and he even tried to open the devil's gate (which could have killed hundreds or thousands of people)... all in the name of a guy who begged him not to do that in his name. Sam's history of misleading Dean regarding "saving" him starts as early as 1.12 "Faith" and is extremely heavy-handed in season 3, to the point that demons repeatedly try to get Sam to believe that Dean needs Sam to be in control of his life because he can't take care of himself and isn't it so sad how "troubled" and "stupid" Dean is, not knowing what's best for himself (ex1 ex2 ex3).

[rosalinesurvived]

I should say smth about the new bsd chapter but ngl i just feel kinda dissapointed by it?? It felt really short and we’ve been stuck on the same characters for a whiiile. It just felt like nothing happened. We got Fukuchi but anime-watchers + that one cover of Fukuchi wearing the mask could fill that in without being told.

There are so many more people Asagiri has to fill us in on; the government’s response to all this, Tecchou losing everyone he loved, Atsushi’s feelings on this, the rest of the entire Agency. What does Kunikida think on Fukuzawa being unable to kill Fukuchi? How’s he feeling now that he’s responsible for the Agency members again?? Bro wasnt named their sucessor for nothing! What’s Yosano been doing, what are her opinions on the use of another immortal regiment for the sake of power? Kenji, Junichirou, Naomi?

I just need a goddamn break from Fyodor

[lazylittledragon]

did somebody say dadkarios

[sandinthepipes]

I once triggered wyll's romance scene where he looks like a dumb bird doing one of their weird courting dances, and haven't been able to think of him in any other way since.

Astarion may be a black cat, but wyll is a fucking riflebird

[lamortwrites]

The only way I can buy Sarevok's position in bg3 is if Gorion's ward ascended but took Bhaal's name, Mystra/Midnight style

[maegalkarven]

"What happens now?"

Nemo has spent unimaginable amount of time staring at his father's skull, its eyes unlit. Was he watching still? Did he see Nemo brought back to life by the forces the man himself did not understand? Or did he no longer care?

And just who exactly was Withers?

"Milord?"

It took a tentative touch to his shoulder for the man to finally turn around. And there they were, the damned, bloodied fools of his father's unholy assassins. The best of the best, the worst of the worst.

Staring at him like sheep brought to the slaughter.

"Yes?" It took all of his composure to simply shake the hand off and not break it; but composure was something he had a long good time of practicing.

And without the urge it was almost...easy. Almost like violence was something he didn't have to perform anymore.

"What will happen now?" Asked the girl, and Bhaal beneath, how didn't he notice how young they all are? None of the assassins looked older than forty and it said something about this whole business. Probably something very unsavory.

Nemo took a deep, steadying breath.

"Now," his voice echoed from the walls, multiplying it in a rather menacing manner. "You will renounce my father. You will lay down your weapons and your faith and will do no more of his bidding. Either you walk out of this godless or-" and at that he sent a glare more suited to be accompanied by a knife than by simple words. Seven hells, words were hard. "You will not walk out of it."

"Are..." another assasin raised a voice. "Are you asking us to forsake Bhaal?"

"Yes."

"And the alternative is..?"

"Joining his ranks on the other plane, of course," Nemo smiled his best, 'charming' smile. "But you all should be ready for that, everyone who kills should be ready to meet their own death. Or are you the cowardly kind?"

"So you will just kill us?" Oh, they argue now. Stupid lot. "As simple as that?"

"As simple as that," he gestured back at where whatever the fuck was left of his sister dearest lay. "Just like her. Though, I suspect, you'd throw less of a fuss over it. Or will you?"

"But we did everything Bhaal asked of us!" Another of his bunch of stupid idiots complained. "Everything you asked of us! And you will just...discard us?"

Of course he will. Did they not realize what kind of place it was, what kind of a "family"? Murder was what they did, all of them.

Him - more than the others.

"If, notice the emphasis, you do not reject Bhaal. But tear him out of your hearts - and you can walk out of this alive."

"And what about our contracts?"

That actually made him pause.

"Your...what now?"

The girl, the brave foolish girl who dared to touch him, spoke.

"Our murder contracts, you know, the ones we earn our wages from?"

They earned their wages? No, scratch that, they had wages?

He was sure he would not be able to forget that.

"Remind me for a moment, what's the deal with these," he winced. "Contracts?"

"Well...People ask us to kill someone," the girl shrugged. "We kill the target and get paid for that. Don't you remember? You set up the whole deal, said murders won't pay for our food unless we do something about it. And we did something about it," she grinned, obviously proud of "the whole deal."

"It was such a smart thing to do too, Lady Orin would never! All she wanted us to do is to perform the murders...fancily."

"By playing her corpse-dollies, I see."

Someone snickered. The girl frowned.

"Something like that. We had to run the operation in secret, but what else we were supposed to do?" She gestured around wildly. "The temple might provide us shelter, but the food? And what of our families? Some of us have children, you know, parents. Who will support them?"

Alright, now this was becoming weird.

"You're saying you've killed people...to feed your families?"

"I have a pet," someone from the crowd shouted. "It's an alligator and let me tell you, providing for this thing is costly."

"You have a pet alligator?"

"Yes," the man stepped closer. "His name is Minty, you've met him! Said he's a mighty beast and what I'd better feed him the corpses of my victims, that'd save the costs."

Despite his best judgment Nemo could feel a smirk crawl up his lips and firmly settle there.

A pet alligator Misty. Ridiculous.

There was a bunch of freaks and weirdos standing in front of him.

But again, wasn't he the same as them? A blade made of flesh, a man knowing how to take life and little else.

Maybe something could be salvaged here yet.

Maybe.

"Alright," the sigh he let out didn't feel forced, yet there was some anticipation too. Murder was familiar. Murder what brought money was...prospective. "Show me these contracts."

[beeribas]

Hot take: we don't need another sad white boy in media. I swear to the gods if I see one more sad white guy whose abuser is a BIPOC/BIPOC coded man I'm gonna commit arson. Most aren't bad story wise, but the trope is horrible for so many reasons and I am so tired of seeing it.

[xx-k1tsun3-k1d-xx]

full statement here

[bibleofficial]

lol uni accom sent an email saying that theyve ‘received many complaints from staff students & guests’ & it just makes me laugh but they DID include a place accommodating me feeding them at the end of the car park which is fine bc that is all i wanted to be fair. this was ALWAYS ABOUT POWER like 😭😭 it’s deadass so miserable living here we are all postgrad students so 22+ but we literally have room inspections 2x a semester like we’re fucking 12 to make sure things are ‘clean’ as if the building isn’t as old as our parents & literally falling apart. they restrict u so much like u can’t have a kettle in ur room …. but those guests can ??? ur putting a like 3 inch suicide bar on my window ? that i PAY FOR ???? girl … ‘it gives ppl anxiety & diseases …” & ???? having no fucking security here gives ME anxiety & these mfs are givin ME diseases shut the fuck up !!! THE ASBESTOS IN THE WALLS CAN HEAR U & IT’S LAUGHING

[a-story-teller]

Had another dream story idea and it's BAD out here y'all. My subconscious said "you don't go for sad old white men yaoi? Well here's one and you have to care about it so much. Good luck"

[these-lovely-monsters]

Mating Season

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: m!werewolf x f!reader

Content: hunting, primal behavior, predator/prey, sex, p in v, knotting, claiming bite, possessiveness, mild dubcon

#13 Mating/Hunting Season from @ozzgin's Monstertober 2024 prompt list

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

It’s werewolf mating season in your village and it’s a full moon which means it’s time for the hunt.

It’s almost midnight and all the eligible women have been gathered in the town square to prepare for the event. You stand amongst the group, everyone dressed in thin gowns and barefooted. A cool breeze causes you to shiver or maybe it’s just the anticipation of the activities to come.

The soft murmurs of the crowd are punctuated by howls in the distance. The werewolves are prowling through the darkness, eagerly awaiting their prey. Under the bright moonlight, the women around you glance at each other with mixtures of nervousness and excitement.

When the first midnight bell rings out over the square, everyone jumps, and the crowd surges forward. At first it’s a tangled mess of jostling limbs as everyone heads for the gates at the town’s entrance. But once you’re all through, the mass of bodies disperse in different directions and you take off sprinting into the darkness.

You’re racing through the trees, leaping over logs and boulders as you try to ignore the pain in your feet and the sharp scrapes and nicks from nearby branches. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your breaths are coming heavy. Over the roar in your ears, you hear the snarls and howls of the werewolves stalking their prey, mixed with the shrieks and moans of those already caught.

Your legs are beginning to ache as you zig zag in no particular direction. So you slow down, wondering if you’ve gone too far. But then you hear a twig snap in the trees behind you. Your heart lurches into overdrive and you sprint forward again.

Moving as fast as you can, you recall the only instructions you were given. “Run.”

Your predator is close on your heels, his paws thudding softly on the ground as he nimbly trails you through the forest. Just as you turn to look over your shoulder, you catch sight of a giant, black werewolf leaping out from between the trees.

When he collides with your body, you let out a soft “Oof,” and you both go tumbling to the ground. He deftly rolls you so that he takes the brunt of the fall and when you come to a stop, he’s hovering over you, pinning your body to the cold hard ground.

Although his form is mostly humanoid, he’s covered from head to toe in thick, dark fur. His head is also the shape of a wolf’s and he has a long tail that swishes behind him. His massive claw-tipped hands are buried into the dirt on either side of your head and his heavy breaths wash across your skin.

Baring his teeth in your face, he starts to rock his hips against your naked pussy and you gasp. When he shifts his weight so his cock is dragging against your clit, you let out a soft moan and he snarls at the sound.

Faster than you can track, he swipes his claws at your gown, shredding the material and leaving faint red scratches where his nails nicked you. He stares down at you for a moment, his pupils dilating as he watches your exposed skin pebble in the cold air.

He bends his head to lick at your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples, causing your back to arch off the ground. Then he lowers himself down so his hot body is draped over yours. Before you can appreciate the warmth, he shifts his hips so that the tip of his cock is nudging at your already slick entrance and you groan in anticipation.

Opening your legs wider in invitation, you grip his fur and tug. With a growl, he sheaths himself fully inside you until his hips are flush with your thighs. You cry out at the sudden fullness and he pauses to let you adjust. When your body begins to relax, he pulls out and then thrusts back in. He does it again and again until he’s setting a brutal pace, fucking you hard into the dirt.

You quickly become lost in the exquisite sensations as your back scrapes against the rock-strewn ground while his massive cock stretches and fills you to the brim. He’s snarling and wild-eyed above you as he ruts into you in a wild frenzy, unable to control himself at the feel of your hot cunt squeezing him so tightly.

When your orgasm climbs higher and higher, almost at its peak, his movements become jerky as he meets you at the top. Right before you tip over the edge, you feel his massive knot pushing against your entrance, trying to stretch your pussy impossibly wide.

Before you can protest, he lowers his mouth to your shoulder and growls one guttural word against your skin.

“Mine.”

And then his teeth are sinking into your flesh in a vicious claiming bite at the same time his knot pushes past your tight walls and you scream.

You’re launched into another stratosphere as your eyes roll back in your head and your entire body seizes up. Hot cum spurts inside you, filling you up endlessly until it starts to seep out around his knot and drip down your thighs. His hips are still jerking erratically as he rides out his orgasm, dragging your own out with it, until eventually he’s completely spent.

───

You must have passed out at some point because when you awake, he’s carrying you in his arms as he trudges through the forest.

“Where are we going?” You ask groggily.

“To my den,” comes a deep gravelly voice above you. “I’m going to fuck you until my cum is a part of your essence and everyone knows that you belong to me.”

Tip Jar :)

[mulattomochaccino]

I can NOT fucking believe i am watching this shit happen in real time.

Overnight I've watched the wiki page for 4B go from a single line of text describing it as a feminist movement and four more lines beneath it explaining the rules, to now it being a several paragraph screed about how it is a terf riddled, transphobic, transwomen hating movement made intentionally and with the sole purpose to stop women from having sex with transwomen.

The article editing history shows this all being done overnight. It also shows it mostly being done by a single user who INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH has been flagged multiple times for getting into editing wars on the CIRCUMCISION and FORESKIN wiki pages!!!! You cannot make this shit up!!

American women only briefly floated the idea that they shouldn't have sex with anyone that can get them pregnant in a time where pregnancy could be a death sentence and like fucking LIGHTNING these folks come out the gate to shut it down in every way possible.

[elodieunderglass]

Horror isekai where Perceiving the Weird Eldritch Thing gets you catapulted into a nightmare labyrinth of puzzle-solving.

I.e Those Who Perceive The Hunt of the Goblin King Must Partake In The Labyrinth and Can Only Be Freed If They Complete It In One Day and One Night. By Fae Law. For Reasons.

But the definition of “perception” clearly needs to be updated because some normal guy simply films the Hunt of the Goblin King Behind Arby’s, and puts it on Facebook -

No, not instagram or TikTok, it’s important that it be Facebook -

Because the rules are pretty clear, “the rules are the rules” as is carved ominously in elvish runes above the grim gate, and the Contract is Sealed. and so therefore the guy and 25 of their most random real-life acquaintances must run the gauntlet together. It’s Some Guy, their immediate neighbors, their first partner’s mom, their friends from hobby Facebook groups (oh this poor guy and their hobbies; the elderly birdwatchers from Facebook and the young up-and-coming drag king community), their random teen kid niece, college friends, a dog who also watched the video, a couple consisting of a woman who is the guy’s Facebook friend and showed her husband the video, and the husband doesn’t even know Some Guy, so he’s in the labyrinth and absolutely furious about being forced to be involved, and they proceed to break up over the course of the puzzle.

It’s important that the narrative keeps trying to be a sexy dark horror isekai! but within this the comedic reality of Catherine, 52, the guy’s horse-riding instructor, being passionately involved in escape-room-style puzzle solving and grappling with minor goblins. They are in fact speedrunning the gauntlet.

The Goblin King finally has to say: all right, actually, I only really set all this up to fuck with one (1) guy at a time, thanks for your willingness to participate, but I think all 25 of you can consider the gauntlet fully run.

And the group would be quite hurt by that. The rules are the rules. We have a contract, actually. Let Catherine cook.