#and a more complex look at choices

[lady-of-the-spirit]

reading fire & blood like "oh hotd really did fuck it all up"

[butchvamp]

i absolutely understand there was no way to account for every single choice ever made-- that's literally impossible across so many games and so many years and so many changes. i do, however, think that 3 games worth of established lore should be worth something and like.... addressed. there are always going to be things that are retconned over time, i even said previously that i liked some of the changes around the qunari that happened back in inquisition because it felt like a step in the right direction and finally fleshing them out and establishing their culture in a meaningful way. but that's not what's happening in veilguard. they do the opposite. with everyone, the qunari and the elves and the dwarves and even the humans. they get reduced to generic, bland, homogeneous, nonreligious groups that all get along amongst themselves. the dalish elves are either just dead in the background (which to be fair has always been a consistent feature of these games lol) or absorbed into the veil jumpers, who are a huge mix of humans and qunari and elves, etc. kal-sharok gets literally Nothing despite one of the main companion quests taking place there-- there are no dwarven politics like we've seen previously, the kal-sharok aren't even especially isolationist nor do they take any time to explore their proximity to tevinter (and what they did to keep trading with them), or the blight and darkspawn (and how it's changed them and their relationship to orzammar). the qunari are all antaam, just faceless bodies for rook and co to kill because they needed more enemy variety, and what we do see with shathann and taash does not cohere with what we've learned previously about gender in the qun. the chantry is basically nonexistent despite two games setting up this massive conflict between mages and templars, despite veilguard literally revolving around massive revelations of faith… and i know we're in northern thedas so the chantry and templars do function differently, but our only two templars we get a lot of interactions with are "good guys" (and rana specifically can get up on her high horse about it with neve with no option for us to give her the third degree like she's not a fantasy cop whose coworkers are paid off by rich magisters lol) like... these are huge, glaring changes that do not align with a lot of what we've seen in previous games and also have nothing to do with complex branching choices.

[beebfreeb]

favorite ghs artist also has a conlang ? my day is made ??

I even have multiple.

[sugarcube-stillabookworm]

my life long love of orpheus appears to extend to interesting and flawed modern-ish adaptations of him from vibrant absurdist tv shows because that soggy wet cat of a pop star sure got my heart

[loveandlegacy]

one thing i hope we in the united states get over like. sooner rather than later is the specter of "chinese censorship". i occasionally encounter people saying that riot, a famously regressive company in a famously regressive industry, won't just say viktor and jayce are in love because of censors in china and it's just like ok. i just don't think that's true. i think the call is coming from inside the house

[rigelmejo]

Again, if anyone has seen anyone post their results of doing the ALG method long enough to speak a significant amount, let me know. I'm going to do one last search on youtube of people discussing their Dreaming Spanish progress, and even if they didn't do it completely the ALG way (since some users of Dreaming Spanish videos studied with anki or word lists or word translation lookups at some point) I hope they may still describe what activities they did to develop speaking skills after they had developed good listening skills first. I want to know: did they shadow? Did they talk on their own? Did they talk with a language partner, and was it someone correcting their mistakes or them correcting their own mistakes later, or them just talking with no monitoring of mistakes besides making sure they keep talking until understood (as in re-explain in other ways if their partner is confused)? Did they do writing exercises? Did they do speaking or writing drills?

[linabirb]

also a SHOCKING reveal from today's therapy session: turns out that a girl who keeps making ocs with a god complex can actually have a god complex AND a devil complex (?) at the same time

[tranakin-skywalker]

Who is your most disliked star wars character and why 👀

Oddly enough I don't tend to dislike characters. The most I get is indifference, just a complete non-opinion.

Actually wait no

Rush Clovis

I suppressed my memories of those episodes so hard I forgot he existed. Though it's more the writing choices rather than the character himself I dislike. I'll admit, I only ever watched the Clovis episodes once and that was several years ago so I don't remember them very well at all.

I think mostly I just dislike that the writers used him to get Padme and Anakin both to behave in ways that are entirely out of character for their movie counterparts, and it pisses me off to no end. Like, I'm fine with characters acting ooc, but only when the writers give me a convincing reason to why they're behaving that way. I actually find that really interesting! For me it's less a question of if someone is acting out of character and instead what would it take for them to behave this way realistically? And those episodes episodes failed spectacularly at that.

Honestly, it's probably the wasted potential more than anything else that annoys me.

[isekyaaa]

Reading the spoilers of otome light novels always be like, "Wow, people really hate men."

[dirt-nerd]

Dude HH as a show is literally hurting people. Like, actual human beings in the real world. At that point you can't just brush shit aside with "oh the show just isn't for you, just don't watch it if you don't like it!" And even then, people are allowed to criticize flaws in things. Please be more thoughtful, this is not the hill you want to die on.

How exactly is this hurting human beings? Its not some disney show being shoved down everyones throats 24/7, so its pretty easy to avoid- I didn't even really know about it until a week ago! Additionally it doesn't seem to contain any intentional propaganda of the * these minority groups are evil* type.

It does have its flaws, not every joke lands, and the humour runs on the darker side of comedy which is definitely not to everyones taste. But unless the creators are doing some JK Rowling level "our billions in profits are funding a hate group" level shit I don't see what else the show could be doing that can't be fixed by just being responsible about your own media consumption?

Also I love a good show critique! But when someones criticism extends to the point where they seem to dislike the show at a fundamental level I genuinely think "hey I don't think this show is bringing you joy, maybe find something else" is a more thoughtful response then dragging them deeper into the rabbit hole by quibbling over different interpretations of the story or whatever.

[tenthhell]

Updated Orianna bc I got a mod to work + a rough approximation of Asmodeus' avatar.

[abyssalpriest]

oh and in case it isnt clear, i dont necessarily blame anyone on this plane for believing the stuff i said in the first posts tags? like. eve if youre an incarnated "demon" like i am as much as eh yeah im sick of that term like. its hard to get info across from fuckin anyone, but you add to that how their/our plane works requiring so much damn energy to get up here..... Its hard. yes.

HOWEVER. the fucking "demons" coming here being like. well. this

and fucking talking about how all evils are Actually (chrxstian and ''angelic'') and we're soooooo good and innocent like. you know what youre doing. i see you. shut the fuck up

[mcmansionhell]

we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[femmematisse]

I was very, very pro assisted dying until I watched the documentary by disability rights activist Liz Carr called “Better Off Dead?” on BBC iplayer. After my step dad died of cancer last year I was really passionate about people being able to choose to die, however I completely flipped after watching Liz’s documentary.

I would recommend everyone watch it and really understand where the disabled community are coming from in terms of this bill and what it actually means in practice under our current system of austerity and privatisation.

The UK officially passed the "assisted dying" bill... and with a healthcare system that actively WANTS to get rid of you one way or another, to the point of being one of its main motivations in choice of treatments (alongside cost)...

Well, I think we've figured out what Kier Starmer is planning to do with all of the disabled people who he can't force to work.

[pinkmoonastro]

Pluto Aspects

Sun/Pluto: Dark sense of humor, attracts jealousy through the ability to learn quickly and be talented at many things, seductive, private life/double life, prefers to be in relationships, controlling, self critical, importance on achieving success and public recognition, denial about how social you actually are, obsessive, bouncing back from hardship unscathed, masking true feelings, lover of luxury, worrier, carrying the burdens of many, leaders, strategic, good at balancing multiple careers/streams of income, can work long hours, wiling to sacrifice for future gratification, beliefs being questioned/questionable, operating best with routine, helping the exiled, quiet power, domineering, leading others to the promise land, rags to riches, sharing nature, being taken advantage of, learning self worth, noticing the subtleties, standing in your power, alchemizing, appreciation of scents, restoring the balance and bringing justice, protecter, connection to night creatures, reverence.

Moon/Pluto: emotional rollercoasting, rough tides, tsunamis, delusions, misunderstood, living in the past, victim mentality, feeling intruded upon, enticing, protective, human lie detector, causing shock value with your thoughts, okay with not being everyone’s cup of tea, attracting stalkers/stalking others, a lot of haters and obsessive ppl, determined, my way or the highway, always on the go, quick witted, forgiving, misguided anger, easily triggered or triggering to others, a safe space for authenticity, youthful looking but quickly matured, problem solvers, appreciates luxury, high expectations, stressing yourself out, very strong ppl, the rock of their family, liking drama, needing to be more careful with the words spoken, lucky breaks, nurturing, creating a home that feels beautiful and comfortable, beautiful smile, soft spoken mesmerizing with your cadence, taking care of the things you own, making the old look new, hard choices, a few more restarts than most, word is bond, direct communication, seductive aura ✨

Venus/Pluto: Insecurities being obvious to others but hidden from yourself, ppl pleasing, nurturing vibe, great reader of social cues, bully/bullied, learning to understand and love your body, freedom through movement, talk of the town, being projected on a lot, resilience, cup half full mentality, big mama energy, ungratefulness, ppl trying to manipulate you through financial means, getting things taken away from you as punishment or literally being stolen from, independence, personality that grows on you, attracting jealously based on being the opposite sex’s ideal, player/overly devoted, values the connection to family, the type to plan the family get togethers, prefers to be coupled, generous and great at gift giving, hair that attracts idolization, fierce eye contact, ppl wanting to experience you without worthiness, personal space being important, careful with the people you shake hands with, being exactly what you want to be, near death experiences, night owl, protecter of children and the poor, solo traveler, taking no shit, knowing that it’s okay some bridges need to be burnt 🤷🏽‍♀️, child like innocence, friendships that stand the test of time, health conscious, healing others through food/herbs, high society, rockstar lifestyle might not make it.

Mars/Pluto: Okay with being cut throat, intimidating, power hungry, holier than thou, superiority complex, triggering insecurity in others while just existing, putting in work that will stand the test of time, legacy is of importance, it ain’t nothing to cut bitch off, knowing how to wow ppl, the defuser of situations, protecters of the weak, chameleon, popularity, rememberable first impressions, quick thinkers, great lovers, career focused, pressure to succeed, feeling you have to always be on your p’s & q’s, controlling lovers, the person others vent to, attracting ppl that feel entitled to your body/possessions, love/hate relationships, social butterfly, observant, bound by nothing, living in the moment, making the best with what you have, animal lover, would benefit from slower living, ingenuity, fashionable, hard headed, ppl trying to silence you, sprinkle sprinkle no bread crumbing is tolerated, lucky items/totem poles, optimistic, teaches lessons on how to be discerning, secret exposer, substance abuse, attempts to hold you back through evil eye, tunnel vision, seeing what needs to be said and saying it, willpower matched with child like vigor, friends and lovers that are protective over you, respected in your community/field, interested in the benefits of all, easily multiplying what you already have, water to wine type of vibe, relaxing when the work is done, knowing when to take breaks, shining bright in dark places.

Mercury/Pluto: realism view point, harsh truth, so relatable, knows better but learns the hard way, passionate speaker, musically inclined, before their time, emotional highs and lows, forgetful/selective memory, dark humor, appreciates the shock value, curse words are like icing, different just to be, thinking outside the box, creating lingo other ppl use, over explaining, paranoia, defending the vulnerable, saying what everyone is thinking, whistle blower, lovers of knowledge, constantly reinventing yourself, conspiracy theories, quick witted, solitude, dating outside of your race, cult leaders, judgmental, biting your tongue, pathological liars, self righteous, polarizing, sweet talkers, accent, making complex subjects sound easy, self critical, creating a lot of opportunity for yourself, taking journeys without a destination in mind, getting to the root of the matter, hard to reach, wise beyond your years, very knowledgeable about niche things, big dick energy, viewing something from multiple perspectives, feeling short on time/waisting time, organized, thoughtful, pouring into others, lending a helping hand/attracting those that want to help you, having to be extremely patient, smoking cigars for enlightenment, stuck on ppls mind, noticing the underlining factors, honesty off the charts, sending warning shots attacking, feelings of overwhelm by choices, defending your stance, being victorious against all odds, just so rememberable.

Jupiter/Pluto: importance on self image, Beyoncé- upgrade you, relating to others though music, greed, great investors, a need to be in first place, critical of themselves and others, perfectionism, requiring patience, materialistic, condescending, over indulgent, substance abuse, bad mouthing others, attracting leeching personality types, look but don’t touch, a lot of ppl have witnessed your transformations, co dependent, persistent, preferring not to be around the bush, learning when to walk away, big personality, topic of conversation, having to rebuild yourself repeatedly, opposites attract, quick manifestations, repeating yourself a lot, sustainable living, being able to balance many things at once, bringing offerings, community leaders, hard earned respect, learning discernment in friendships, solo travels, mentorship, feeling isolated, knowing how to use what you have, tongue like a sword, guiding the youth, transforming the mundane, unique style, taking the road least traveled, freeing yourself from sorrow, seeing the good in anyone, comforted by your bed, the same thoughts on repeat, warrior spirit, connection to horses.

Asc/Pluto: having your items end up in the lost and found, escapist tendencies, prioritizing relaxation, messy room, starting a new project before finishing the last, ppl misjudging your power, manners, sob stories/lack of accountability, fashionable, stand out in crowds, unique style, noticing the little details, valuing peace keeping, don’t mind switching things up and experimenting, self employed, viewed as lucky, ppl keeps tabs on you, being at the crossroads, rumors about your body/hygiene, protecters of their family, collecting antiques, building from scratch, learning to stay the course, loves celebrations.

Chiron/Pluto: learning only when the pain has gotten so bad, feeling like your always falling short even when you have what you perceived to want, intense feelings and relationships, what’s done in the dark coming to light, dismissive, ppl indulging in your hardships, helping others through your struggle, leading by example, survivors, learning boundaries, developing antonymy, life starting one way and ending up much differently.

[swordsandholly]

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.”