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aarafox · 11 months

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On Stolitz, Desire and Misunderstandings

I’ve thought about them so much for the past few days that I just have to put my thoughts somewhere. This might be far from structured/coherent but contains everything that has been running around in my brain lately. Feel free to interact with me about this because they’re driving me insane (in a positive way).

Quick disclaimer: I’ve watched everything in nearly one sitting a few days ago and am new to the fandom, so I might be unaware of commonly known info or things the creators have said or confirmed. If you come across any of my questions that have been answered already, please forgive me for not knowing and feel free to enlighten me! Let’s begin~

The main thing that got me thinking about this so much is Blitz’s line in ep 7 when he brings Stolas home after their failed date: “Don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to fuck you, okay? You make that really clear, all the time.”

But the thing is, he is wrong. We as the viewer know this, how Stolas chokes on his food when he sees that Blitzy calls, how he lunges to pick up the phone and how his eyes turn into little hearts when he hears the question. If anything, Stolas is smitten with Blitz.

He even calls Gabriella a “mood” when she asks Alejandro why he won’t love her. It’s indisputable that he’s thinking about Blitz here.

And how much he actually likes Blitz becomes even more clear to us at the start of season 2, when they’re kids. Stolas falls in love at first sight and blushes several times.

And then, 25 years later, he is delighted to meet Blitz again. After the initial (joking?) assumption that Blitz has come here to “ravish him”, he tries to make gentle conversation and asks him how he’s been. Blitz is the one who decides to initiate sexual relations—that is, he pretends to start it, and decides to keep it up when he hears Stolas chirp about how happy he is that it’s his “first ever friend” who wants to do him. But Stolas, before this, was surprised by Blitz’s advances and unsure how to react. Stolas, if anything, has to believe that Blitz is very sexually attracted to him.

That is why Blitz’s line in episode 7 fascinates me this much; one would think the reverse of what he says is true. Stolas has no reason whatsoever to believe that Blitz ever wanted more from him than sex/the grimoire, especially with how their relations began. So it strikes me that apparently, to Blitz, it hurts him to think that Stolas wants nothing else from him. He even begins to cry there in the van as he begins to reject the prince.

See the tears in his eyes? Why is that? Is he embarrassed? Angry? Does he feel guilty for putting Stolas in a “disgraceful” picture? Is he thinking about entirely different things that happened to him in the past?

And Stolas cries when Blitz is gone, because, well, he does think of Blitz as more than a sex friend. He was so excited to be asked out by him, he made himself look pretty, tried his best to make conversation with him, thought Blitz was actually taking him on their first date ever! He thought Blitz had called him out because he wanted to spend time with him, so he did his best to make the date a success, but all he received from Blitz was, well, nothing… He even tried to end the night on a more positive note by asking Blitz to come inside for something other than sex, perhaps to drink some wine and talk about what happened (or watch a movie, or cuddle 🥺). But when he hears that his sentiment of just wanting to spend time together has never come across—not now, not ever before—and Blitz actually believes Stolas just wants to frolic, that’s when Stolas leaves it for what it is and ends up crying.

(God I feel so bad for him, my heart)

And he spends a LONG time trying to show Blitz, via his texts, that sex is not the only thing that he’s after.

But he only gets one-word responses from Blitz. Nothing, literally nothing to keep going on. It’s no wonder he loses faith in that whatever they had could ever be anything more. And Blitz probably has commitment issues or is afraid of things not working out and he ends up keeping Stolas at a distance—until it’s too late.

And it just kills me that he does care about Stolas but somehow won’t admit it, won’t show it. And yet he sounds so hurt there in that van, when he accuses Stolas of merely wanting to be his sex friend. And he actually cries. For that reason, and for many other reasons not all clearly laid out for us.

Meanwhile Stolas has been crushing on him for 25 years. It’s only natural for him to propose the deal they made: he wants Blitz to be close to him (and he assumes Blitz enjoyed sex with him that first time, since he slept there for the entire night while at first only claiming he could do it “real fast”) and Blitz wants his grimoire. This is the perfect way for Stolas to get Blitz to be with him, because, frankly, he doesn’t have many other reasons to meet up with him. So they make this deal: Stolas gets to be together with him for once a month, and Blitz gets the grimoire. Perfect right?

Except when Stolas discovers that Blitz doesn’t even begin to know how much Stolas actually cares. That’s why he keeps sending those long texts, he tries so hard to let Blitz know they could be doing anything else and he’d love that too. That night after the date he already begins with those attempts, by telling him he enjoyed spending time with Blitz and suggesting things to do inside which Blitz misunderstands for him trying to get him into his bed.

But damn, if that was all Stolas was after, he wouldn’t get so depressed that he’d drink until passing out. He is heartbroken. And somehow, for some reason, so is Blitz. The first thing he does when he gets home is opening his phone to a selfie he took of them while Stolas was asleep.

And others have pointed this out as well, but Stolas doesn’t know about this picture and that Blitz smiled while he took it. On all the pictures Stolas has of Blitz, Blitz looks like he’s not enjoying himself at all.

So what must he think when he sends Blitz his reply that he could be in the hospital for a while in case he wants to visit, and Blitz doesn’t answer?

Well, that Blitz doesn’t want to come. That he doesn’t care enough.

Indeed, if there’s anyone who hasn’t been showing his true feelings or intentions, it’s Blitz. Stolas compliments him, calls him darling and “his” Blitzy, makes himself pretty for their date, and (for instance in ep 2 of season 2) blushes big time multiple times.

He’s had it bad for Blitz for ages, but he (correctly? incorrectly?) concludes that this is not mutual. And he has every reason to think so! Blitz treats their sexy adventures as a business transaction, is all serious and stoic to Stolas about it except for the rare occasion where he does show how much he likes it, like after Stolas rescues him from the demon hunters and he grins and seduces Stolas before kissing him.

But the times when Blitz talks about them to others? Those are moments Stolas doesn’t know about and doesn’t get to see, like when Blitz talks to Striker and stutters like mad trying to explain what they are and aren’t. He never outright says that they’re not dating. He doesn’t even deny Millie’s words when she says they’re boyfriends.

(M&M totally know I’m wheezing)

It just drives me insane how Blitz isn’t honest with his feelings, especially towards Stolas. He probably chooses to believe that Stolas only wants to have sex with him, because that’s more convenient and safer for him, and enables him to keep Stolas at a distance.

Perhaps that is why he never properly responds to Stolas’s texts, never jumps to the opportunity to agree to Stolas’s indirectly asked questions or suggestions. Getting closer might be a bad idea somehow—but after those texts he has to understand what the prince’s intentions are, right? They just don’t talk about it at all; we also aren’t told whether they still do it or not, or just exchange the book like Stolas’s texts suggest. This is striking compared to season 1, where we got scenes of them in bed or talking about their next meet up.

It isn’t until Stolas’s life is in actual danger when Blitz begins to realise how much he cares.

“He can get hurt?” His eyes are trembling with disbelief. After that he finally sends Stolas a text first, and then begins typing again, and stops. I imagine he started typing a yes, but stops himself for some reason. I really hope they’ll show us what Blitz was thinking in that moment. Why would he not go to see Stolas? Because he feels guilty? Because he’s afraid he’ll start caring even more when he sees him wounded in that bed?

But again, for Stolas this just means that he doesn’t care, and the poor owl curls up and turns away from his phone.

#stolitz #helluva boss #my brain is doing things #also if I'm posing any questions I should've already known the answer to please be gentle with me #stolas #stolas goetia #blitzo #stolas x blitzo #helluva boss meta #stolitz meta #I am greatly enjoying this show #not planning to interact with criticism #click on the pics for better quality etc etc #ngl their kissing scene was my fave moment lol... they looked so happy together #can't wait for the next ep uuuuuuugh sobbing

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yashley · 5 months

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Fearne has seen a version of herself that has gone down a very bad path in EXU. […] She doesn’t know where in the timeline that Fearne was, and if every sort of step that I’m taking, “Is this gonna lead me down to that path - to the bad Fearne?"

#critical role #ygifs #fearne #cr3 #thinkin my dark girl fearne thoughts and all the pacts she just ''selfcares'' herself into lately :)#skips around the room giggling thinking about the high warqueen elmenore and her fearne plans #I say thats my abandoned emotionally fuckedup ruidusborn downbad chaos girly and I want her evil but I want her safe😵‍💫#I do love fearne's interaction with evil fearne literally was just fearne being like lol but how cool are u hmmmm #and yet fearne is actively concerned about That fearne while actively taking steps more likely to lead her there hmmm #also like I don't Need there to be payoff for ollie's plague nightmare of fearne but like dot dot dot #anyway fearne moments are the hottest moments next #my galpaloway

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5ftboy · 6 months

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BONUS REACTIONS:

#candela obscura #critical role #candela obscura spoilers #brennan lee mulligan #zehra fazal #travis willingham #luis carazo #sean finnerty #jinnah basar #nathaniel trapp #marion collodi #mine **#an absolutely *wild* plan that somehow - in the end - they perform together !!!#they're both . such opposites and i Adored the interactions !!

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yasmeensh · 8 months

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Angsty Neanderthal teenager and his blind little sister. I gave them names but I'm too timid to share yet lol. I'm developing their story arc far more than the main character's 😳 they took over my mind ever since I thought of them existing.

#personal project #paleolithic #neanderthal #so uhm I HAVE AN ENDING THOUGHT OUT #at last #I have the story beats planned out #I have some key scenes #but still needs to be filled out waaaayyyy more #I think what will make up the core of the story experience are the little things. the character interactions #misadventures #etc #I day dream about these things but haven't written them out or placed them anywhere in the story #it's those things that will reinforce the theme softly. in little tiny bites #so that when a character does something related to the theme it doesn't come out of nowhere #the character has been exposed to it and experienced it time and time again #until they get the aha moment and apply what they've learnt during a critical moment #(I'm talking about Tam here. but it also applies to neanderteen's arc)#there will be a slow timeskip btw #the characters gradually grow up in the story #I had a moment. wanted to see my baby characters all grown up ;-;#and in ACTION

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beanmochiii · 3 months

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halOPE

#seriously good game. there will b spoilers in the tags cuz im gonna talk abt it #so to start off the charactee design in both appearance and like personality is phenomenal #im so interested in every single character i interacted with!!!!#and the art is sooooo pretty and the music is sooo good #the game inspires so much art from me. this is not the last art of halope u will be seeing from me #ive only gotten one ending so far. idk how to present what ending i got cuz idk how the others r different but hope (me?) killed Mother and #saved regret and got the eye in my stomach instead of the hole. and the hopeful workd didnt happen #i do have some light criticisms but i plan on writing an indepth itch io review so. those can go there along with other details i loved #my art #halope #halope fanart #eye contact

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isuara-ez · 1 year

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While the main event in terms of crossovers next week will be The No Way Home of Marisha PC’s, let’s stop and consider another possibility.

Autistic Ginger Bisexual to Autistic Ginger Bisexual communication.

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swiftfootedachilles · 6 months

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what do i have to do to get people to read my stuff actually like im not about to get in everyones faces begging for attention but i dont understand how im expected to make FREE fandom content without much feedback on my work

#ignore my ranting but im actually so fucked disillusioned #like why are there so many people who scream about supporting each other and lifting up small creators #and they never do it themselves unless its their friend #sorry i dont sit at the popular table but i never expected that it would impact my reach this much #my newest fic has more hits but less kudos and less comments than my first #it's so obvious people only interacted on my first fic *because* it was my first fic #and thank you so fucking much to the people who have given me kind words #and literally religiously rbing my stuff because you think im worth listening to #this isn't about me crying because im not popular #people with bigger followings are naturally going to get more attention #but the only reason ive started posting my fics is because all these POPULAR BLOGS were like 'we support each other here!!!'#'were a big family were not a big fandom so any time someone posts it brings a smile to our faces!' blah blah blah #like youre out here lying for clout you literally only leave feed or kudos if its your fucking friend 😭 not even if its good #i guess id rather have less people interacting if it means the feedback i get is genuine and not just blowing smoke up my ass #but it still hurts to write a fic that flops and then write another fic thats over 3x longer than my first fic #WITH A PREMISE THAT POPULAR WRITERS HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT BEFORE AND BLEW UP FOR IT AND PEOPLE IDOLIZE THEIR WRITING #so im expecting to get more feedback and constructive criticism because it's a concept that a lot of people seem to love #only to get EVEN LESS FEEDBACK THAN ON MY FIRST FIC #like sorry to everyone who genuinely likes my writing i actually love you so much #but im very rejection sensitive and don't plan on continuing this. it seriously hurts me. it triggers my abandonment and selfhatred shit ba #like im sick to my stomach that another thing im passionate about is sucking the life out of me & i cant even get my foot in the door #donut rebagel this thanks and goodbye

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lit-in-thy-heart · 9 months

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people leaving not glowing reviews in ao3 bookmarks my unbeloved

#went onto one of my fics to familiarise myself with interactions before continuing to tackle a planned sequel #saw someone else had bookmarked it and went :DD and got even more excited to see it had been bookmarked with a comment #buut the comment was just like 'i mean it was alright' which isn't shattering criticism but it's like #i spent 2 weeks writing and editing and tying myself in knots and worrying about the depiction of characters in that fic #it's one that i'm actually quite proud of and am putting a lot of effort into the follow-up and trying to maintain the same tone #why would someone bother to bookmark it if it just felt average -- moreover why bother to say that?#i've seen worse ones #like i understand that you're not going to like every single fic in existence but unless people ask for feedback #you don't need to leave your critical review in a comment that the author can see #and i know how i've worded it may sound conceited #but some i've seen very much carry the same vibe as being invited in to someone's house and dumping spaghetti bolognese on their carpet #like if you're not a fan either don't accept the invitation or politely leave instead of posting a pic on social media #with a caption of how much of a state the house was #it just baffles me why someone would bookmark something they didn't thoroughly enjoy #anyway #shoutout to the fantastic people who leave lovely comments on fics and in bookmarks and put a smile on fic writers' faces you're all swell #even just a !!!!!! makes my day <3 #personal #lit talks

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hestiasroom · 3 months

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Planned Parenthood

gyns, what's the radical feminist opinion on Planned Parenthood these days?

For context, I have had a regular monthly donation going to the organization for some time. Reproductive rights are a core tenet of feminism to me, and I want to put my money where my mouth is, in addition to my vote.

But as you may or may not be aware, Planned Parenthood is becoming more and more deeply invested in gender bullshit. And to be honest it breaks my heart. I was "ignoring" it for a long time, because I wanted so badly to believe in the good that they were doing in the fight for reproductive justice and abortion rights in particular. I don't want to be a person that believes an organization has to be in perfect agreement with my ideology in order for me to ally with them.

But I'm at an impasse now. The gender bullshit is too much for me to ignore, and I'm likely going to end my donations soon. And as dramatic as this sounds, it really hurts to do that because they are currently one of the biggest dogs in the fight right now for abortion. I don't want to abandon the cause. I frankly don't think smaller and more local orgs have the same (deeply necessary) political pull that they do.So I've had trouble picking a new org to move the donation amount to. Should I just do it anyway, and be happy with a smaller, more local effort toward reproductive justice?

On a more petty level, I hate the risk of being associated with conservatives and religious who have done all that they can to demonize this organization. In some ways, those people were right - Planned Parenthood is doing harm when they dole out hormones to kids, and spread an ideology that actively harms women and girls. But they didn't ONLY do harm, and I don't want to ignore that. I don't want to be yet another person that holds certain people and orgs (especially ones to do with women) to impossibly high standards: never slip up once, or everything you've ever done is bankrupt and your org is not worthy of saving/sticking with through the bumps in the road. I think PP is messing up big time right now, but does that mean I should jump ship (after all, it's not like religious women who hate PP have jumped ship from their churches in spite of it's long history of wrongdoings. why do they get to stay in flawed organizations, but I can't)?

Where do you stand when it comes to Planned Parenthood these days? No wrong answers - I genuinely want to know what other women's rights advocates are thinking on this topic lately.

#Planned Parenthood #trans ideology #gender ideology #radblr #radical feminism #terfs do interact #gender critical #TERF #terfsafe #terfblr #radical feminist

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doodlebloo · 2 years

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your tags are the eeverything ever im on my laptop so i cant sc them and add them to the post but believe me i would and if i remember later i will. youre so fucking RIGHTTT its the condensation of the story into LORE into 'big streams' or episodes and in part thats bc of how the fandom treated lore and how it got turned into a big Thing that has to be very Streamlined and its a Lore Stream (yet they wont. plan it 😭) and Aurgghhh its pretty sad. but atp id rather actually see season four retconning than have to sit through another HUGE EVENT ON THE DREAM SMP!! (DEATH) (DRAMA) and then have no follow up on it

TBH I feel like everyone being busier definitely contributes to that bc like the Burger Plotline was supposed to be several streams over which we would likely have gotten a lot of little moments and interactions that showed us a lot about the characters and that had to get condensed to a WRITTEN STORY...

So it would not surprise me at all if there was supposed to be a lot more in-between but it kept getting condensed into five streams, then three, then One Big Stream simply because it's so hard to get everyone together now. Like that's why I think they need to be wrapping things up because if it's that much of a hassle to get multiple people on the server at the same time then the thing that made the story so interesting is sort of already gone at this point? Not that it was only interesting because people streamed Daily but like, that sort of "improv lore" that Tubbo always says he misses can't really come back because nobody is ever online enough for it (and when I say Nobody I mean rarely any people that have been here long enough for c!Tubbo to have history w them)

So like I do think part of the reason that lore has been so sparse is because of scheduling, it isn't Only that but what could have been several streams gets condensed into one huge stream where so many things happen that there isn't really time for the characters to react properly and we don't get to see any of the aftermath because they don't log on... In a story about grief and humanity we aren't getting to see c!Tubbo grieve or be human much at all, because if he logs on it's either for Lore that has a clear goal in mind and not a lot of time for us to see into his mind or it's just to mess around and we don't get to see his character's thoughts/emotions then anyways ...

There is nothing wrong with "big event" lore streams but at some points it sort of seems like events are planned just for the sake of having a "big event" happen and not because they actually make sense for the characters involved.

Idk I know it's easier said than done but if Wilbur has sat down and written out an ending that he's slowly working his way through at like 1-2 streams per month I feel as though others should look to him as an example, like I wish they would sit and genuinely assess "How much fun am I genuinely having doing lore CURRENTLY (not in the past), how much free time do I have right now/am I expecting to have," & make a decision based on that

#^ also w the Improv Lore thing... ppl have said before that it was a lot easier to do in the beginning of the server when ppl didnt have a #ton of characterization yet and thats very true. but also I feel like the term ''improv lore'' has sort of been twisted into something it #isnt. like c!Eret's betrayal wasnt improv lore. cEret and cWilbur planned that. They didnt have a Script #and they didnt tell other ppl so the Lmanbergians reactions were genuine... but that was Planned Lore.#the election results were not really ''improv'' because they had different plans based on what happened. the festivak and nov 16th were #planned. like everyone wants ''improv lore'' but i dont feel like a lot of ppl including Tubbo realize that big lore events are rarely ever #improv. ''improv lore'' is mostly for characters having little interactions or doing side-plots. cBeeduo building their hotel was improv #and it didnt go anywhere..... because improv lore rarely does. its sort of supposed to be self-contained to a couple of streams and if it #isnt then you need to actually Plan how/why it will be relevant or it doesnt really go anywhere...#so to me Tubbos plan to ''log on and see what happens'' aka to try and do mostly improv lore doesnt seem like it will work #asks #negativity #this is not cc critical again its their characters and they know their lore plans and schedules better than i do #long post

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scriptmyworld · 2 years

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catching up on e27 except I can’t get past the dusk/laudna > imodna > brief ashton/laudna > imogen/laudna/fcg convos

#which is actually around where I left off so that tracks #just such a good series of character interactions #the whole part where they’re ranting and squeeing like the greatest iteration of girl best friends is so mmmmm #and also imogen’s accent is delightfully thick there and I’m only so strong #and the immediate hilarity of the ‘let’s lie to our friend to make him feel better’ plan failing #and quickly turning into such sweet concern #the momentum between these segments is v good I think #critical role #bell’s hells #c3 e27

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stepseduworldblog · 20 days

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Unlocking Opportunities: How a Trusted Education & Career Coach Facilitates Study in the UK

In the vibrant city of Dubai, where innovation meets tradition, the journey of Trusted Education & Career Coaches and consultants unfolds with promising opportunities and transformative innovations. As Dubai continues to position itself as a global hub for education and business, students in the region are witnessing a dynamic evolution in the way they learn, explore career paths, and prepare for the future. In this blog post, we delve into the multifaceted aspects of education and career opportunities for Dubai students, from emerging trends in learning to the diverse pathways in the professional realm.

Virtual Reality Classrooms: Stepping into Tomorrow

Imagine students donning VR headsets, transported to ancient civilizations or exploring molecular structures up close. Virtual reality classrooms are revolutionizing learning, turning textbooks into immersive experiences. In Dubai, where innovation is a way of life, VR classrooms are poised to reshape traditional learning paradigms.

One of the defining characteristics of modern education in Dubai is the integration of cutting-edge technologies that enhance learning experiences. Virtual reality (VR) classrooms have emerged as a game-changer, offering students immersive and interactive environments that transcend traditional teaching methods. Imagine a history lesson where students can virtually visit ancient civilizations or a science class where they explore complex molecular structures up close. VR classrooms not only make learning engaging but also foster deeper understanding and retention of concepts.

#AI-Driven Learning Platforms: Personalized Pathways to Success #Meet your digital mentor: AI-driven platforms that adapt to your learning style. From personalized lesson plans to instant feedback #AI enhances the educational journey for Dubai students studying in the UK. Imagine an AI coach guiding you through challenges or recommendi #Alongside VR #artificial intelligence (AI) is revolutionizing education through personalized learning platforms tailored for students studying in the UK.#adaptive assessments #and real-time feedback. Dubai students benefit from AI-powered tools that cater to their unique strengths and areas of improvement #paving the way for personalized learning journeys that optimize academic success.#Global Networking Opportunities: Connecting Dubai to the World #Networking is key in a globally connected world. Dubai students access a vast network through virtual conferences #collaborative projects #and cross-cultural exchanges. The world is at their fingertips #broadening horizons from their classrooms.#Dubai's cosmopolitan environment opens doors to a rich tapestry of global networking opportunities for students. Through virtual conference #and cross-cultural exchanges #students in Dubai connect with peers #experts #and mentors from around the world. This global network not only expands their academic horizons but also nurtures valuable relationships an #Blended Learning: Bridging the Physical and Digital Divide #Welcome to blended learning #where traditional meets digital. Dubai embraces hybrid models #combining in-person interactions with online resources. This approach caters to diverse needs #customizing the learning experience.#Moreover #blended learning equips Dubai students with essential digital literacy skills #critical thinking abilities #and adaptability to thrive in the digital age. As technology continues to evolve #the integration of digital learning tools and resources enhances Dubai's education ecosystem #preparing students for success in an increasingly digital and interconnected world.#Skills of Tomorrow: Nurturing Creativity and Critical Thinking

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swordsandholly · 14 days

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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afeelgoodblog · 2 months

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The Best News of Last Month

Sorry for being not active this month as I had some health problems. I'll start posting weekly now :) Meanwhile here's some good from last month

1. Widow donates $1 billion to medical school, giving free tuition forever

Ruth Gottesman surprised by her late husband's $1 billion in Berkshire stock, decides to donate it in full to the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in the Bronx, New York City's poorest borough. The donation is intended to cover students' tuition indefinitely, ensuring access to medical education for generations.

A video capturing students' emotional reactions to the news, cheering and crying, circulated after the announcement, highlighting the profound impact of the donation on the medical school community.

2. Electric school buses outperform diesel in extreme cold

In Colorado's West Grand School District, electric school buses outperformed their diesel counterparts, particularly in the bitterly cold temperatures of towns like Kremmling, where morning temperatures can drop below -30 degrees Fahrenheit. Despite common concerns about reduced range in extreme weather, the electric buses maintained their battery charge even in these frigid conditions, providing reliable transportation for students.

This success has been welcomed by the school district, as diesel vehicles also face challenges in starting in Colorado's harsh winter weather.

3. Christian Bale unveils plans to build 12 foster homes in California

Christian Bale has led a tour round the new village in California where he plans to build 12 foster homes, as well as two studio flats to help children transition into independent living, and a 7,000 sq ft community centre.

The actor has spearheaded the building of a unique complex of facilities with the aim of keeping siblings in the foster care system together, and ideally under the same roof.

4. Average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome has increased from 25 years in 1983 to 60 years today

Today the average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome is approximately 60 years.

As recently as 1983, the average lifespan of a person with Down syndrome was 25 years. The dramatic increase to 60 years is largely due to the end of the inhumane practice of institutionalizing people with Down syndrome.

5. Greece legalises same-sex marriage

Greece has become the first Christian Orthodox-majority country to legalise same-sex marriage. Same-sex couples will now also be legally allowed to adopt children after Thursday's 176-76 vote in parliament.

Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis said the new law would "boldly abolish a serious inequality".

6. Massachusetts police K9 tracks scent for over 2 miles to find missing 12-year-old in freezing cold

A Massachusetts police K9 followed her nose to help find a 12-year-old who went missing in frigid temperatures last week, tracking the child’s scent for over two miles, authorities said.

K9 Biza, a female German shepherd, was called on to help after officers learned the child left their home at around 10:30 p.m. Wednesday and was last seen in the Pakachoag Hill area of Auburn, the Auburn Police Department said.

7. Good News for the Socially Anxious: People Like You a Lot More Than You Think They Do, New Research Confirms

The "Lake Wobegon effect" or "illusory superiority" phenomenon highlights people's tendency to overestimate their abilities, but recent research suggests that in social interactions, individuals often underestimate their likability and charm.

Studies indicate that people consistently fail to recognize signals of others' liking toward them, leading to a "liking gap" where individuals believe they are less likable than they actually are.

Techniques such as focusing more on others during conversations and genuinely expressing interest in them can help alleviate social anxiety by shifting the focus away from self-criticism. Ultimately, understanding that others may also experience similar anxieties can lead to a more relaxed and enjoyable social experience.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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novlr · 8 months

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How to Write Betrayal

Betrayal is a powerful plot element that is represented in countless stories. The gravity of betrayal brings a profound depth to character dynamics, plots, and themes alike, making it an indispensable tool for writers to explore emotions, conflicts, and the complexities of human nature. Let’s explore some quick tips on how to write betrayal!

Behaviour

Secretive actions

Dishonesty

Becoming emotionally distant

A sudden change in routine

Pushing people away

Nervous or fidgety movement

Frequent lying or making up stories

Unexpected aggression or irritability

Unjustified mood swings or emotional outbursts

Increasingly defensive

Interactions

Disturbed interpersonal relationships

Frequent misunderstandings or fights

Withholding information

Avoiding personal discussions

Insincerity in conversations

Frequently cancelling or missing plans

A sudden shift in relationship dynamics

Quick to deflect or place blame

Frequent subject changes

Gradual emotional detachment

Body Language

Avoiding direct eye contact

Defensive stance and crossed arms

Covering mouth or touching face

Shuffling or restless movements

Forcing smiles or laughter

Constantly looking around or at the ground

Stiff, tense posture

Heavy breathing or frequent sighing

Avoiding touch or skin contact

Exaggerated gestures

Attitude

A lack of concern or empathy

Increasingly personal and hurtful arguments

Erratic or unpredictable reactions

Self-centeredness

Insincerity

Dismissive or negative attitude

Callous disregard for other's feelings

A negative or pessimistic outlook

Inability to handle criticism

Withdrawal from relationships

Positive Story Outcomes

In the wake of a betrayal, a story can manifest various positive outcomes that add depth to the plot and its characters. Relationships can be strengthened, showing their resilience. Characters may discover newfound self-reliance and learn valuable lessons about trust and forgiveness, leading to an increase in empathy and understanding, personal growth, and the reinforcement of personal values. These experiences can encourage a clearer understanding of personal boundaries, prompt self-reflection, introspection, and the development of healthier coping mechanisms. Ultimately, these positive outcomes can bring about improved communication and honesty, forming the silver lining in the cloud of betrayal.

Negative Story Outcomes

The aftershocks of betrayal can reverberate throughout your story. This might include an irreparable fracture of trust and damage to relationships. Betrayal can trigger psychological trauma, leading to an increase in suspicion and insecurity. Feelings of inadequacy or self-blame may surface, and characters can experience a heightened sense of isolation. The fear of forming new relationships or trusting others can become overwhelming. There may also be an escalation of conflict or violence and the reinforcement of negative behaviours or patterns. Damaged self-esteem or self-worth may be another repercussion, and this can encourage destructive coping mechanisms.

Helpful Synonyms

Treachery

Deception

Double-crossing

Duplicity

Backstabbing

Two-faced

Disloyalty

Unfaithfulness

Infidelity

Falseness

Perfidy

Treason

Fraud

Deceit

Slander

Misrepresentation

Falsification

Chicanery

Double-dealing

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elvirable · 8 months

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Instincts

[ Astarion x f!Reader/Tav ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 3.7k | status: complete themes/tags: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light angst at the end, you know the sex scene after the tiefling party?, yeah so this is it, with astarions pov, already catching feelings smh, smut is halfway through, just skip to after all early dialogue

----------------------------------------------------

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his simple plan crumbling apart.

In other words: Astarion has been struggling to balance century-long instincts with newfound feelings, an undeniable connection. He carries out his simple little plan as intended, but meets complications he didn't quite expect. ----------- A/N: so i hung up my cod medals of honor to write this.. i've been playing for a month now. originally posted without proofreading, but its now edited for grammar and some terms -----

It was hard not to have fun around you.

Something of a child-like giddiness would buzz through his nerves whenever you sauntered over, his marbled red eyes wouldn't dare to miss a beat of the vision you were. Swaying hips and that deceivingly coy face. Of course, you were strikingly beautiful – a wickedly delectable sight – but that wasn’t the only source of his carnal anticipation.

It was just you, the enigmatic little thing you were.

Admittedly, Astarion believed he had read you like an open book the moment he laid eyes on you. It was an instinct of his: gathering a cerebral repository of notable ticks and body language, facial twitches, and octave changes in those around him. Watchful, constant observations.

He had chalked you up to a sort of stoic character at first. Graceful, to a degree, in your manner of subtly balancing the world around you. A stable composure, quick and quiet without brash or idle chatter.. unlike that Gale. You were a less flagrantly repulsive hero-type crafted in his mind – but he had still expected you to be oh-so predictable with a shallow drive for self-emaciating ‘justice’. Whereas the others wore their baggage like a garment, you held your cards close to your chest – like a chameleon suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

Yet the sun rose and fell two or three times around the wilderness of Elturel, when he found himself pleasantly contradicted. He normally didn’t dedicate much attention towards someone he believed he so easily pegged, but his interest began to pique. Just enough to leave him sitting with an edge and a consuming desire to peer in closer.

Maybe it was the way your mouth twitched into a quiet smile during his verbal antics on the road or the firm passiveness you held from the blighted village to the drama of Emerald Grove; an intoxicatingly confusing blend of traits you harbored. The closer he watched you, the less blurred you became. You didn’t fear being authentic and enforcing boundaries to those who attempted to use you – but you weren’t cruel; you met the world around you just as it was, without discrimination. No unnecessary harm, no free handouts either.

Or perhaps it was your sarcastic remarks that stirred what little glee he had in him; an especially delicious and refreshing insight into your humor. While he could care to give a critical note or two on your lack of blatant cruelty, Astarion respected your compelling demeanor; he witnessed how all these companions turned their eyes so frequently to you with decision.

But what he did know for sure was the eye contact.

Gods, the first time your heads swiveled mid-strife and your gazes locked with a rich crackle – the memory alone was enough to stupefy him! Something strange stirred, something that didn’t sit comfortably. He didn’t know what to make of it.

With all this said, that same sensation boiled inside his stomach as he mulled over his every interaction with you. He recalled that moment of midnight – when all was still and you had caught him prepared to taste your throat. Your wary stare pierced through him, washing away briefly the desperate pangs of blood-thirst and left him feeling.. nervous.

Ugh, how he despised the feeling.

He was sickened when all those ledgers of observations caved in on himself, caught in his pale throat. He had taken such an overwhelming liking to you – to the extent, he had realized, that he was drawn to your guidance, your approval; a repulsive frustration at the time enough to coil through his cold veins. Without much to say, however, he was adamantly relieved when you conceded and soon regularly allowed him to drink from your slender neck.

His trail of thoughts glossed over your stifled grunts onto the following morning: when you came to his defense as everyone felt the need to chime in with their unfettered prejudices. And how his ease, his excitement around you became persistently potent – a fresh energy that filled him as you spurred on his teasings and whims. Astarion noticed your subtle release of your ever-strong walls, just enough so he could relish in your humor and affable side.

There was always a hesitation at doting on the sensation that rose inside him at these thoughts of you. He surmised he was merely back in the practice; where he spun honeyed words and charmingly guile eye contact, to wrap his target around his finger. Any little edge of control he could grasp onto, the familiar taste of influence he used to know so well. These habits of two hundred years were kicking in. He’d play the part and – sooner or later – this eagerness to please would be reversed onto you.

Whether it was his own willful denial or the culmination of fate’s ever-spinning thread, the first crumble began the night of the tiefling party.

Cool and clear was the star-freckled night. Everything was too merry for him: the wide-toothed grins of the tieflings, sharp strums of the lute, the chatter. Even the wine was downright awful, pungent and tart like vinegar.

Astarion would’ve normally indulged in his bitter mood, but it was the sight of your drunken smile that diffused his prior desire to complain.

How interesting, he thought as his eyes lapped up your squinted grin and eased laughter. It was helplessly infectious to see you so earnest, casually prattling on in conversation throughout the camp.

Red eyes followed while you made your rounds, encouraging the tiefling’s dancing lights spell and conversing with the bard. Astarion even raised a brow at the playful expression that washed over your face as you spoke to the hulking druid by the name of Halsin. When you strolled over to Shadowheart and he caught that carefully provocative glint in the raven-haired cleric’s eyes – a chord of jealousy grew taut inside his chest.

He had half the mind to feel insulted that you hadn’t wandered in his direction yet, but that was quickly dispersed when he noticed you dismiss yourself and head towards a wooden crate near the riverfront.

Almost like a shadow, Astarion swept in your direction. Whether it was to merely take in your smile up close or to put his plan in motion, he settled on the latter. You were rifling through the crate that held what could barely pass as wine, muttering a quiet curse about the little tiefling probably pocketing a bottle or two.

“Here’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” the words dripped from his mouth with a sweet cadence. “You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

You swiveled at the sound of his voice, raised brow accompanying your hazy smile. The influence of wine lowered your usual wariness, and he caught the realization flutter across your face; there was no constitution in attempting to act reserved, especially with the rapport you two had grown. Amusement was written all over your face, hardly concealed – you had decided to play along.

“A little treat? You can do better than that.”

“Oh, I certainly can. It would be my pleasure.”

He leaned closer, half-lidded eyes darkening and breath heavy with a mischievous delight. You watched him expectantly, reveling in what would pour from his lips.

“How about this one,” he loosened his posture, as if you both were stowed away from the entire world instead of dawdling along the outskirts of the shoddy camp. “All these accolades from the tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

Astarion watched the smile further spread across your soft lips, the wickedly sweet crinkle in your eyes while you crossed your arms. An exhilaration rose underneath his suave demeanor, even the bemused snicker invigorating.

“Is that the best you can do?” came your quick quip.

“Hmm, let me give it another go,” his voice was thick with arousal, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation – it’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

His words clung to the air for a moment. The deliberate onslaught of poetic pleasantries laced with such ardent lust, the hum of the wine – Astarion studied your face swirling in thought. Heat had built up from the lower half of your body up to your cheeks, a quiet neediness wavering in your stance and threatened to boil to the surface of your skin.

Gods, you were thinking, it had been the longest time and you’ve been touch-starved.. more so under the urgency of all the trouble you had been thrust into. You never trusted a pretty boy, but you'd be damned if his flowered prose didn't stir something in you; you had never been the subject of such pursuits, real or not. Desire rushed through you, coiling in your stomach.

There was a beckoning in his eyes as they clutched onto yours, imporing you to draw closer, and his boyish features were even more alluring when caressed by the moon’s glow. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust those flowery words. They were tinted with an air of rehearse.

“Did these really work on Cazador’s targets?”

“Well, they’re working on you, aren’t they?”

A mild bashfulness buzzed through the warmth on your cheeks, as you couldn’t really deny it.

“How about if I said these little words… everyone’s favorite,” Astarion continued, pausing for effect.

“I love you.”

Sly amusement colored his face. He had succeeded in riling up the intrinsic urge, no matter how much you tried to conceal it. How adorable you were when your gaze fluttered briefly.

“Having fun, are you?” you observed, smile holding on your lips.

As he had mused earlier, he was. It was hard not to whenever around you.

Festivities settled down, the entire camp fast asleep once the wine crate had emptied and bellies were full. Only the chittering of crickets could be heard amongst the trees.

The forest, usually dressed in potent darkness, stilled beneath the moonlight. A serene, subtle beauty of the night – one Astarion was very accustomed to knowing, to living . He had done this so many times it had become second nature – the salacious rendezvous, the secrecy and fleeting thrill of them all.

He had contemplated before, the image of you melting in the throes of pleasure. He wondered whether you preferred his hands gentle or rough, what sounds would dribble from your lips – if they sounded as sweet as you tasted.

Though nothing could prepare him for the reality, which far surpassed fantasy; the pretty little thing you were, bare figure caressed by the lowlight, slowly making your way towards him.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

You offered him a coy smile, cheeks still warm and rosy. An ache rushed between your legs at the sight of him sauntering forward, his well-formed broad physique. Lean, yet muscular – and the soft details of his appearance; the crease of laughter lines, the curl of his lashes. Just the anticipation of it all served enough to make you wet.

“Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he leaned closer, desire coating every syllable.

“You don’t have me yet,” you matched the pulse of his words, emanating a playfulness to goad him on further.

Greedy lips suddenly met yours, and you were pressed against the tree trunk. His palms gripped the back of your thighs, swift dexterity almost catching you off guard. You instantly melted, like a puddle, in his grasp; your soft lips just as eager, skin aching and impatient for his touch. You never realized how sensitive you were, how truly touch-starved until you fought the gasp that escaped your throat.

Astarion didn’t waste a beat, carefully laying you onto the grass below while he drawled slow kisses along the curve of your neck. Fervent yearning permeated from your skin; you wanted more, and he was prepared to give you everything .

He drank in the sight of your arousal, eager to please you yet potently roused from the position he was in: you were such a delectably pretty thing sprawled beneath his weight, completely bare and vulnerable. Wide eyes bashfully beckoning him to just taste you.

“Part those precious legs for me, beautiful.” He directed, his voice less of a growl this time – instead more sweet. Soft.

You could feel your face heat up further at his words, following his command without hesitation. Tender hands trailed along the soft skin of your thigh, his intense eyes briefly leaving yours to watch his fingers lingered over your folds – you were glistening with slick , fevered arousal.

“Oh my, you’re already so wet for me.”

His voice was almost a whisper now, as a keen excitement rushed through his veins. A twitch pressed against his briefs, his cock already hard and eager especially when his eyes darted towards your rosy. So willing, ready to indulge his every whim. For a moment, he settled in your vulnerability – a sight he didn't expect to see. You were always full of such delicious surprises.

He shook the thought from his mind, allowing a sly smile to return to his lips.

“Who knew you were so needy?”

Your cheeks flushed, timid lips scrambling to form a defensive retort before he slipped two fingers inside. Only a quiet gasp left your mouth as your soaking warmth struggled to adjust, tightening around his digits. You were barely able to comprehend the words he said, instinctively bucking your hips.

“ Astar ..” your breath hitched before you could even finish, when his fingers began a slow pace. Teasingly slow, you would beckon, but there was nothing you could even fathom whispering anymore. Your walls began to clench, eager to receive his unwavering attention.

Hums of pleasure pulsed through your every nerve, rapidly as he fastened the curling pace of his fingers. Every hitched and quiet whimper encouraged him, his palm soaked with your slick. He relished the sight of your round breasts rising and falling feverishly, your heat clenched around him – his cock further hardened, precum no doubt pooling on the fabric of his briefs.

All you could manage was to focus on the pleasure mounting between your legs, thighs now quivering with anticipation. His thumb slid up to your swollen clit, never breaking pace, to draw teasingly slow circles. He adjusted his weight to lean closer to your face, the sudden attention causing an overwhelming shyness to press your eyes shut. Your thighs trembled more now while his fingers beckoned and lured your pleasure to spur closer and closer.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice the gentlest you’ve ever heard.

He couldn’t place the sensation – of feeling entranced in a sense, when whimpers of pleasure fumbled from your beautiful lips. Astarion almost felt lost, nearly mesmerized, when you kept those pretty eyes trained on his. He could feel his eyes soften at your vulnerable stare, and all at once everything inside him craved to slide into your warmth. To feel you melt into him, to hit every right spot to make you sing, for every sweet prayer cascading from your lips to be for him.

“Mmf..” You were left in a sudden foggy haze, a mix of pleasure and confusion when he abruptly withdrew his fingers. You couldn’t fathom any words to speak, only furrowed your brows in a hazed and disorientated manner.

“I’m sorry, love.” His breathless laugh seemed dazed before the low, heaviness returned to his tone, “You were practically just begging with those lovely eyes of yours.”

He leaned downwards to plant soft, reassuringly delicate pecks across the nape of your neck; each a mantra to affection, leaving a buzz in their wake. Carefully he peeled down his briefs with a wasted moment to rub his eager cock against your slick warmth.

Your moans sounded even sweeter closer to his ear, and a delighted sigh pressed from his lips onto your skin. His throbbing cock was met with some resistance as the length and girth was suffocated by your tightening walls, warm spasms at the sensation being filled.

A guttural, low moan hummed from his throat. Fuck, you were so perfectly tight.

His cock pulsed at the sudden attention, aching with pleasure and a warm buzz radiating through his skin. He paused for a moment, needing to relish every second it felt to be now pressed so deep inside you. The softness of your skin, delicate cues of pleasure washing over your face, how your warm walls enveloped his cock.

You moaned as he pushed more of his length inside your needy warmth, tears beginning to well up in the corner of your eyes. Pleasure and slight pain blurred, the tip of his cock almost pressed against your soft cervix and a rouse of heat traveling up your spine.

His hands gripped the globes of your ass to adjust his leverage, slowly but deliberately digging his hips against yours with each thrust. His body was achingly ready, alive with frantic urge. He was incapable of any pretty words to whisper, tangled groans replacing his usual velvet tongue.

As he pounded quicker into your warmth, your pulsating soft walls sucked his cock tighter and deeper with each buckle. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck. Sweat formed on his pale forehead as he wrestled with his restraint, his cock stroking in and out, hitting pleasure points you never knew existed and relishing in your shameless cries – desperate for him.

Soft, warm pleasure unraveled across you in hot waves. If you had the mind, you could only hope that no one could hear you two – the sounds and wet smacks of his skin colliding against yours – but all you could do was turn your pleasured cries and whimpers into soundless gasps.

Your lips parted, hips bucking before your back arched from the ground. Every fiber of your body attempted to get closer to him, and his to you. Of some act of grace, your hand caressed his face, lifting him to face yours.

Oh, how he wanted to melt right there.

Eager eyes met each other, brows furrowing together into a soft, tender stare. Astarion’s hips began to buck erratically for a moment as he struggled to regain his resolve. Once steadied, he continued to bury deeper into you in every perfect way. You were clenched so tightly, so divinely around him while his name trickled as a whisper from your lips.

“You – fuck .. “ you couldn’t be bothered to form a proper sentence, every whim of comprehension overwhelmed by new heights of white pleasure. You were lulled into a stupor, and his grip tightened at your garbled pleas.

“Thaaat’s it,” Astarion practically begged, voice ragged, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face as it twisted with sweet expressions. An eagerness gnawed inside him, to push you to the edge of your pleasures. You were so perfect while you cried his name, taking all of him so well.

“Come for me, sweet girl –” Hushed and delicate was his tone, only causing you to surrender any inhibition.

Heat wound tightly in your abdomen, lashes wet with the tears trailing down your warm face. Every nerve was wound so tight, finally snapping into a rush of white hot pleasure that left your skin flushed and tingling. You tried to whine out his name, but it spilled out into broken gasps as you reached your fingers to grip his silver curls.

His hips began to stagger, riding out your pleasure until he could no longer postpone the succumb to pleasure. They lost their rhythm, and a low moan rumbled from his throat as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of your tightening walls, pressing into you.

You could feel his cock throbbing in you, as your nerves are slow to fizzle from the glowing buzz, and it swelled. Your slick walls were overstimulated nearly by his desperate, choppy thrusts before a cry escapes his lips – his cum flooded into you, thick and hot. He felt waves of warmth, so real and alive. So helplessly right.

The air was silent, as you both collected your breaths in hurried gasps. Astarion peeled his weight off of you only to roll onto his back, by your side. Your body felt light and completely slack, almost boneless as you sunk into the earth underneath you. Aftershocks of pleasure still rippled throughout your nerves.

Both of you laid sweaty, flushed, exhausted, lacking the energy to care. You broke the silence with a wobble in your voice.

“Fuck, you came inside me..” you stated the obvious, reeling from pulsing nerves and vision hazy.

“I’m sure the druids have something that’ll take care of that..” Astarion said breathlessly, extending an arm to wipe the sweat glistening off his forehead.

He waited for a quiet laugh or a retort, but neither came.

Turning his head, he was met with the vision of your exhausted figure fast asleep. Slowly your chest rose and fell, face at ease – a vulnerability he had only seen when you were in deep sleep, if you weren't tossing and turning.

The quiet sat with him while he attempted to gather his thoughts, his experience. He had seen an entirely different side of you – exposed delicate. Part of his conscience pooled with guilt.

He had a plan. A nice simple plan. It wasn’t foreign to casually bed strangers, seducing and manipulating them into following his every whim. Hells, this had been routine for two hundred years . The count was lost on how many nights he spent using people like ragdolls, only to be lured back into the hands of Cazador.

Astarion returned his gaze to the stars glistening above, attempting his best at reducing it to the odd circumstances or perhaps he was simply out of practice.

Regardless – even if it was more than a fluke – he had already fucked things up. The thought felt tainted now, uneasy and riddled with remorse.

Little did he know that evening, that was the beginning of his plan crumbling apart.

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