“Uh, I think your boobs just hissed at me.”
It's gratuitous dreambubble smut, folks.
"Shut up," you growl, and roll over on top of him, hands on his shoulders, "Shut up, shut up, shut up, I am not the asshole here because I am not the one whose stupid dead self shows up playing grabass just to make it absolutely clear that I am the biggest romantic failure of all time, it is me, even alternate universe doomed timeline me can get laid but me, no, not me, if I were to get someone's pants off we'd all die, that's what this means, do you even realize that's what's going on here? No, of course you do not, because your weak human brain cannot comprehend basic causality. Which is why I need you to SHUT UP and also to go away so I can bang my head against the wall and wonder why I was ever hatched." You're panting a little by the time you force your mouth shut.
"Yo. S'obvious our previous tricks aren't gonna work the same anymore, so let's open the floor to suggestions."
All helmsmen get their entertainment where they can. Damara and Mituna are just a little (okay, a lot) more socially unacceptable about it.
(Art Fill) Fleet lore is full of cautionary tales for prospective Helmstechs like the Sunslammer, but in terms of actual horror stories, the Demon Star is their worst case scenario.
Bookmarked by Lurkerfox
23 Feb 2021