#dont praise the seventh

[hey-hamlet]

Okay, dpts au mixed with sticky note au?

All Might meets Izuku as Yagi, when the 14 year old draws a donkey on the sidewalk to help carry his groceries. Izuku is sweet as pie and shyly asks him to not mention the public quirk usage, pretty please.

He meets him again a week later, blue in the face and deathly still inside a villain made of sludge. He tears the villain apart with his bare hands - Izuku is so good and so young and for a moment he wanted him to be his successor - but now he's laying on the ground and hes not breathing.

Running on borrowed time, he runs to the hospital faster that he thinks hes ever moved, just barely able to duck out of view to change forms.

He waits, using his status as 'All Might's secretary' to get given updates that should really only be given to family members. When Izuku wakes up, hes not sure what he's expecting, but its not the ashen face he sees, eyes flicking wildly about the room. He doesn't even look at him until he speaks.

"Mr Yagi? Is that - I can't - my eyes"

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

@single-use-ship-of-theseus OKAY SO the fic is called i was screaming your name through the radio and it's by ElectricSplatter on ao3. keep in mind that all my rambling is going to be from memory bc its on the long side (256,709 words split between 10 chapters) and the only way i even found and got through it was in a bout of like late night mental illness and i will probably never be able to get through it again dhdjdhdj

cut for spoilers & possible length

anyway i fucking LOVE this fic it may be my favorite bsd fic ever im fucking ABNORMAL about it and by abnormal I mean this was rhe comment i left behind when i finished it at like 1 in the morning

IM SO. NOT OKAY ABOUT IT RIGJT.

so one thing i fucking love about this fic is the way its presented to us. the fic starts six years and eight months after the release of the double black album and the single corruption, with the seventh anniversary approaching. in the present time chuuya finally gets fucking fed up with people asking him about it in interviews and says

“Corruption is insanely overrated, and I would prefer to never hear Dazai’s voice for the rest of my fucking life.”

naturally this fucking BLOWS UP, but we don't get to see that yet. why? BECAUSE THE FIC CUTS TO AUGUST. AUGUST ONE YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE RELEASE OF CORRUPTION.

FOR MOST OF THE FIC YOU'RE READING FROM TWO SEPERATE SPOTS IN TIME. in fact, the majority of the fic takes place in the past, starting here in august until it finally catches up with the present day. Every chapter tends to begin with a sliver of the present day following chuuyas interview, then cuts back to the past and i fucking LOVW IT SHAKING IT SO HARD RIGHT??? AUGU

so anyway it cuts to like 8 years ago and we switch pov to Dazai. for the entire book the pov switches in the book between chuuya and dazai which is nice. anyway 8 years ago dazai osamu of port mafia records is in a diner watching The Sheep play a bad pop song and HATING every minute of it, because hes been sent out to scout a new talent from them by mori specifically. obviously hes like wow these people suck im not doing that but then someone from the audience requests they play Golden Demon (Kouyou's hit song). shirase is like fuck no ew but chuuyas like c'mon lets do it so shirase sits out and chuuya gets to sing for this one and AIFJG!!!!!!! so he sings his own slower more painful rendition of golden demon and dazai has his 1st homosexual moment™ (of. a LOT) and realizes chuuyas got a LOT of raw talent that could definitely be put to use, which is VERY high praise from him.

and that's part of how chuuya joins PMR and i dont remember much very vividly BUT as the fic goes on you watch how the slowly get closer and closer and do stupid teen things and how they take care of each other from chuuyas nightmares and backstory to dazais own mental illness and aifjfufhgh.

as you read theres the feeling of fucking DREAD bc you KNOW how this ends. you saw the blurb you saw the start of the fic you know they hate each other now. and you know that they'll fall apart soon. eventually. and you just have to WAIT FOR IT AND AICCHDJSJS. PAIN.

and they get like so embarrassingly in love with each other its horrible its great like for dazais birthday chuuya dug up vita sexualis which is a song that moris tried to hide for years and chuuya sang it on stage for him bc he knew dazai would love it and AUFHFD and dazai keeps doing something for chuuyas birthday each year like dragging them on an outing or sending him a wine bottle full of seawater because he loves the ocean....

anyway anwya anyway a big part of the story is dazai and chuuya end up writing thw somg corruption together. thats why the timeline in the fic is framed as ____ years ____ months after/since/before the release of it. corruption is a REALLY big song. as in popular. part of this is the improvised piano solo in the middle of it, the corruption aspect. dazais job is to tell chuuya when to stop the solo. corruption is also HORRIBLE for chuuyas mental health. corruption was the alternative to another song chuuya was initially drafting arahabaki, which was a lot worse at the time. but corruption ultimately hammers in how like. not human he feels he is, how his mother viewed him. this makes chuuyas nightmares worse among other things.

HOWEVER eventually towards the end of the book. well no its revealed earlier but back then you're only concerned about it. so towards the end of the book chuuya finally releases his own solo album. and one of the songs is Arahabaki. the song he said he'd rather die than hear on rhe radio or smth iirc. because he turned it into a song about his realizing his own humanity. and oaidhd

im so tired rn so I'm gonna stop here but shaking you. shaking you

other cool bits

CHUUYA KAJII FRIENDSHIP. !!! chuuya ends up having to join his band the black lizard and they hate each other so fucking much but eventually they find common ground

KOUYOU. SHE IS REALLY IMPORTANT AS CHUUYAS MENTOR AUGH

ODASAKU DOESN'T DIE!!! it still hurts though

RIMBAUD!!!!!!! definitely dies though

teenage skk shenanigans. there are a lot i love them

mori isn't all that bad! him and dazai still have issues but his relationship with chuuya is actually pretty nice.

CHUUYA ELISE FRIENDSHIP!!! CHUUYA KYOUKA FRIENDSHIP!!!! CHUUYA KYOUKA ELISE FRIENDSHIP!!!!!!!!!

-

OKAY SERIOUSLY ending it here bc i started this yesterday night and fell asleep in the middle of it 😭 i literally just woke up now augh

[nicepersondisorder]

Oh well, seventh found:

31- Do you have a bucket list? What's in it?

32- Which are your paraphilias/kinks? How did you find out?

33- Who's your favorite person? Why?

34- Who do you hate the most? Why?

35- How do you feel about politics?

- ⚜️

31. not really? im not very familiar with a concept of bucket list 😔 i only know about it from fanfiction XD

32. i have a bunch of different kink, most of which i discovered through fanfiction. on the list are: choking, overstimulation, sex toys, wing kink, biting, praise kink, knife play, bondage, exhibitionism, size difference and more. theres also one i discovered through a dream that still baffles me. like brain wdym humiliation kink i hate being humiliated 😭😭😭

33. in a fp sense or just a person i like the most? i dont have a fp and i usually don't have a person i like the most but currently im talking with a person on discord who shares the same interests as me and actually watched two seasons of a tv show with me. theyre really cool imo

34. hmm im not sure i can experience hate? that emotion might be reserved for 🖤 (my headmate). i do get really angry and homicidal but also after i cool down from my fury i just feel emoty towards that person. does resentment count? because im pretty sure i resent one person the most, but im too scared he's going to somehow find this and see what u wrote about him. lets just call him *, i usually do that when i talk about him but dont want him to immediately know its him who im talking about.

35. most of the time i feel like my brain is too covered in fog to understand politics. like i know its important and i tried to educate myself on the subject but i just couldnt get past the style and it felt like every second word was blurry in my mind. so i usually just try to stay away from this because what if i because i don't understand i'll say something wrong? what if i take the wrong side? yeah i wouldn't want that

[personal-thoughts-of-one]

Seventh entry

Its been two months since She dumped me. It’s been really great. Finally stopped feeling like I was on edge at every moment. Been living fully, without stopping to think at times. Almost made a few mistakes.

I got back in touch with a precious friend a bit before She dumped me. Surprisingly (at least I didn’t expect it), we got back to how close we were quite quickly. He then got dumped himself by this girl for the second time.

We started talking a lot. He isolated himself from almost everyone but me. I felt special. He really didnt help my feelings that had never left. We ended up making a personal server for only us two, to play around with ideas and characters while we simped together.

Then suddenly, we were getting all sappy. I dont know how he doesnt get the hint I’m head over heels for him. We talked and clearly we’re expecting the same thing from life. We dont want to date again any time soon because of our issues with ourselves. Out of nowhere, we started getting flirty. Then a lot more than that. At first, it was just a game. I cant tell when it stopped being a game.

It got serious. Very fucking serious. Boundaries talked about, safe word selected. A dynamic I never thought I’d be in.

But hell is it good. How powerless I am in front of him. How easily he can read me and play with me. I would never have thought being degraded would make me feel the way he can. He plays his role so well. Such a good Master. He knows me too well. He knows where to push to be effective and it’s addictive. I wait for every interaction, every praise, every degradation.

We’re so alike, its easy to keep going.

I wonder how long we’ll keep it up.

[xmenlov]

This is a post if anyone has made/read a fanfiction about an au call don't Praise the seventh by @hey-hamlet if you have please share ( and go look at @hey-hamlet they have amazing Aus)

[obxdrewseph]

Slytherin!Rafe Cameron AU

Slytherin!Rafe Cameron x Gryffindor!reader (non-canon Rafe LOL) 

you and rafe cameron NEVER got along 

you two were always yelling at each other, throwing spells at each other, and even physically punching and shoving sometimes. 

it all started when you got accepted as one of the youngest seekers on the gryffindor team in a long time. you were praised by many and had many admirers 

he was jealous of your success. he was the same age as you but never received the same hype. it was like his household-- he worked so hard without gaining any approval from his father who only loved sarah.

the rivalry officially started when rafe told one of his friends lackeys to spell your broomstick before a game your first year. you were an innocent freshman then and felt confused when you jerked around in the air

after losing that game, rafe walked by you and mumbled “mudblood” under his breath. you weren’t surprised that rafe was prejudice after hearing the rumors about him

but you werent the type to judge someone before knowing them ... 

but now you officially hated mr. hot guy at hogwarts

later that month, you produced a love potion and slipped it into another third year’s drink who you knew had a crush on rafe 

crush is an understatement-- she was obsessed with him. and the love potion only made her passion more intense

she followed him around everywhere,.. and i mean EVERYWHERE until the potion wore off

and rafe had too many classes with the girl to avoid her 

the girl even snuck into his room and chased off other girls who hit on rafe

to be frank, he was pissed . 

the both of you had gone back and forth with mean pranks to each other, but you were seventh years now .. you were almost ready to go into the real world and you didnt have any time for immature pranks

...

just joking !! 

you both still hated each other. 

anywho

it was the nearing final game of the season, meaning it was you and rafe’s last quidditch game at hogwarts 

the tension was much higher between you two than usual 

when he saw you in the hallways, he would literally just shove you to the side while you spell his pants to fall down 

sometimes that worked in his favor which pissed you off

right before the game, rafe drank some liquid luck he needed it 

“god im so ready to crush that mudblood , there’s no way gryffindor will win today” 

“rafe why are you still fighting with her, it’s been years!” 

“hey she fights with me too” 

sarah cameron rolled her eyes at the immature boy but said nothing. she was secretly rooting for the two of you to have an intense love story... but it didnt look like it was happening 

the stadium was going wild as both teams walked out. everyone knew and loved the slytherin vs gryffindor rivalry 

secretly you loved it too. it gave you some sense of competition 

“ok i want a good game students. no playing dirty and all that” 

the professor narrowed her eyes at both you and rafe

you guys definitely wouldnt follow those rules

once the whistle blew, the players shot into the sky

there wasnt much for you to do as a seeker until you saw the snitch and you waited for it to catch your eye. you looked at the other seeker who was a sixth year. she glared back at you. 

“what are you lookin at, mudblood” 

you rolled your eyes at her comment

suddenly, it appeared in your line of vision and you went soaring through the sky. you could faintly hear someone announcing your actions on the speaker, but all you could focus on was that tiny ball with wings 

it was so close to you, you could touch it 

you held out your arm to try and grab the golden snitch-- your hands practically wrapped around damn thing

“y/n watch out!!” 

were the last words you heard before you felt something hit your side, flinging you roughly to the stadium. your back hit wood and you fell to the ground, the sand “breaking” your fall 

you could almost hear the audible gasp through the stadium as you dropped from the sky, but all you could feel was pain. in all of your years as a seeker, you’d never been hit with a bludger. you had always kept your eyes peeled for them

you knew someone deliberately hit you with one this time

a whole bunch of professors ran to you

“y/n darling! oh dear, this looks bad” 

you felt someone prop you up, but everything seemed blurry and faint. you were going in and out of consciousness 

your mouth was dry and probably bleeding, but you could still mumble out a few words

“check my hand” 

then you blanked out

you woke up in the hospital wing alone. and you hated being alone. 

your body felt sore and everything was fuzzy. your lips were dry and chapped and you could barely move your body

“easy there, y/n. you dont want to strain yourself” 

at the sound of that deep voice, you whipped your head to the side and came face to face with ... 

rafe cameron?

your curious look turned evil.

“you bastard, you hit me with your fucking bludger!” you wanted to hit him on the head, but your body wouldn’t allow it

“are you seriously that mad?? you still won the fucking game!” he spat back 

that made you laugh. he tried his best to knock you off your game, but you still pulled through-- as always

you gave him your best smug look 

“youre right. i should be grateful right now that mr. cameron just lost his last game... ever” you emphasized the last words

you expected to same something back, but he stayed silent

you opened your eyes and just saw him staring at you 

“what?” you spat. you didnt know what game he was playing at 

and for the first time in your life, you saw a look of remorse and confusion on his face 

“well if you have something to say, then just say it!” you yelled. patience wasnt your strong suit 

he scratched the back of his neck, something you knew he did when he was nervous 

“look, i just wanted to say im sorry, ok? i- i didnt mean to hit you so hard” 

his confession shocked you. 

you never had been kind to one another. ever. 

“um... alright” 

you and rafe were both bad at emotions 

“alright? i apologize to you and you just give me a mere ‘alright’?” his tone made you angry 

“excuse me?? just because you apologize, it doesnt mean i have to forgive you!” you didnt even know why you were mad-- it’s not like you meant to brush off his apology, you just were confused

he scoffed and slid back in his chair. it was then you noticed he wasnt in his robes, just his pajamas that were sweats and a tank top (you knew this because you had snuck into his dorm one day while he was sleeping and spelled a bunch of snakes to his bed. they were harmless ofc) 

“whatever.” 

you saw something flicker in his face that you hadnt seen before.. was it embarrassment? something else? 

you were over all the anger that you had towards rafe. you were both 17 and still fighting like kids. all you wanted to know is why 

“rafe, why do you hate me so much?” 

you finally asked 

he paused in his steps, and didnt make eye contact. odd. he was always staring intensely at you. then he scratched the back of his neck

“be honest” 

“fine, i was jealous of you alright? you were the golden first year and i was just another first year on the team. everyone paid attention to you i guess and i dont know .. i just got angry” 

you tried not to show any surprise, but you were shocked. rafe always seemed so cocky and arrogant, to know he envied you at one point didnt make you feel too good

“well maybe people would like you more if you werent such an asshole” you bit out. you dont know why you said that, he was being vulnerable but he started the rivalry by making you lose your first game. it humiliated you. the rumor was you couldnt even fly properly and people doubted your skills as a seeker

he rolled his eyes and turned to walk away 

“wait!” you shouted. he stopped.

you didnt know what you wanted to ask him, but the words toppled out before you could stop them

“why are you here?” 

“to apologize”

you gave him a look. 

somehow, you felt like you knew rafe cameron better than anyone at this school. you knew what made him tick, you knew what made him nervous, embarrassed, etc. you even knew what made him happy so that you could deliberately not do that

and you knew when he was lying. like right now

his jaw tightened. “jj.” 

?? huh ?? 

“what? what about jj?” you knew rafe didnt like the gryffindor, but he wasnt as mean to jj as he was to you 

“jj carried you out of the stadium. he was the first one there.” 

you still didnt know why he was telling you this 

“um, ok? did he like tell you to come here?” 

suddenly, you saw a smile on rafe cameron’s face. 

you had only seen him smile like that when he was reading his potions textbook or practicing offensive spells. he never smiled like that at you. 

then... it hit you 

“wait... were you.. jealous of jj?” you sputtered out 

he gave you a now smug look

“i guess? it was a weird development i admit.” 

you rolled your eyes

“oh, liking me is a ‘weird development’” 

“woooah who said anything about liking?? i just said jealousy. im pretty sure im just jealous youre close to another guy besides you.” he fibbed.

you scoffed. “im close to plenty guys besides you.” 

you were lying. 

guys hated how much you interacted with rafe cameron and were scared of getting on his bad side. they were cowards-- all of them. there was nothing you hated more than a coward. 

“anything else you have to confess to me?” you asked finally, confused of the direction this conversation was going. 

“nope. see you around y/n.” 

he gave you one of his rare soft smiles and closed the door, leaving you more confusion than you had woken up with 

once rafe closed the door, he paused with his back leaning on it. 

“guess that liquid luck came in handy” 

[ahs-requests]

Libertine (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: Michael has taken an obsessive liking to you since he’s entered the Outpost. You’re the only girl he can see himself bringing back to the Sanctuary and helping him rebuild the world, but you’re a bit more defiant than he expected.

Warnings: DUB/CON, dirty talk, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, humiliation, spitting.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: just a lil one shot to switch things up - this is more of my ‘tortured artist’ work lmao i dont think its as sexy as the other things ive posted since is has a pretty non-conish overtone but i thought id try something new.

~~~~

Mallory leans over the keyboard in the library, performing each request you suggest to her and revelling in every moment. The two of you reserve classical music for singularly cruel days. Between Venable’s ceaseless perusal and Langdon’s sudden persistence with you, you’ve grown ill. Mallory begins hitting the keys to play your favourite classical song, an upbeat hopeful tune that reminds you of early childhood. You stop her. “Moonlight Sonata,” you tell her, “I’m feeling… dark.”

Mallory eyes you up and down, staring at your gray uniform as you recline onto the grand piano. You can detect her empathetic expression, the way her eyes fall and lips curve into a frown. She knows the only way to aid your vicious mood drop is playing your favourite songs. So, without question, she begins playing the somber, ominous keys.

You lean your head against the piano, hearing each key tick to create a beautiful song. You’re startled by the clicking of dress shoes along the opulent, polished floors. “Y/n,” the calm voice addresses, “Mallory.” The two of you stop enjoying the music and stare at Langdon. He’s dressed head to toe in elegant, formfitting black clothes, his hands behind his back. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. It sounded beautiful.”

You and Mallory exchange a glance. You should’ve foreseen this; Langdon hasn’t been able to leave you alone these past few days. He perpetually sits back to watch you clean, engages you in eerie, bone chilling conversations, and even started the habit of watching you sleep. Mallory apprehensively starts playing the song again, timidly botching a few keys. “I’ll take care of him,” you sigh.

You propel yourself off of the piano and stride towards Langdon. He doesn’t say a word to you, he just stares with careless bedroom eyes. “Any particular reason you were in my room last night?” you keep your voice low.

He passively shrugs. “I like to watch you sleep. Your innocence is… arousing,” he admits with a facetious grin.

You clear your throat, disguising your anger. You don’t want Mallory to find out about Langdon’s abnormal obsession with you, she hates him enough as is. “Innocence?” you whisper. “You don’t even fucking know who I am.”

“Au contraire,” he responds, leaning his shoulder against the wall. You obstinately cross your arms over your chest as he speaks. “I’ve pried through your memories, felt the emotions you bury deep down inside of you, and hear the thoughts you so desperately keep hidden in your subconscious. Darling, I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Bullshit,” you spit, the words passing your lips with pent up aggression. “You don’t know a thing.”

“I know everything,” he snaps, slicing your attitude with his bellicose tone. “I know that you’re wickedly turned on right now. You can’t admit to yourself that being degraded by me is one of your deepest, darkest fantasies because it’ll make you feel like a miserable little harlot.” You’re taken aback by the brutality to his delivery. “I’ve seen you in my mind,” he whispers, “heaving chest and raisoned fingers, touching yourself to the thought of me choking the life out of those glossy, perplexed eyes.”

You feel tears welling, burning in your eyes from humiliation. Although nobody can hear the two of you, those thoughts were private. They were yours. Langdon simulates a reality in which he owns you completely, like you’re his fictious little plaything. You feel your blood boiling; you’re sick of it, you’re sick of him. “Fuck you,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You will in due time,” he mocks.

You hike up your hand, preparing to smack him flush across the face and wipe the pompous smirk right from his lips, but he grabs a hold of your wrist. “Just leave me the fuck alone,” your voice shakes.

He squeezes your wrist tighter. “Mouthy girl. You know I could never stand for that mistreatment in my new world.”

You struggle to escape his rigid grip, but fail at your short attempts. “I’ll never be a part of your new world,” you growl, weakly spitting in his face.

He shuts his eyes when you spit on him, then calmly opens them. Slowly using his free hand to wipe away the white spit that slipped down his cheek. His composure is unnerving, almost like he’s about to twitch a finger and snap your neck in a matter of seconds. Even if he is pondering over that thought, your ego is much too large now to surrender an apology. “Mallory,” he calls, not breaking eye contact with you. His head cocks to the side. “Leave us. Now.”

Mallory stops playing and rises from her seat. “What are you going to do to her?” she asks from across the room.

Langdon finally turns his head over to Mallory, jaw clenched in irritation. “Go or I’ll make sure Venable has your head on a fucking stick by sunrise,” he seethes. His nostrils flare and his eyes narrow on her. If looks could kill…

You don’t look in her direction, you can’t take your eyes off of Langdon. He’s impossible to deal with, his conviction is exasperating and his tenacity is tedious, but he is the most gorgeous person you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on.

Mallory’s footsteps quickly pace out of the room. Your heart drops, partly from having your friend leave you alone with Langdon, but mostly because the classical music soothed you in such a dreadful circumstance. “I can provide classical music,” he responds to your thoughts. Langdon flicks his finger towards the radio, and you jump in your spot as Beethoven’s seventh symphony commences.

You feel your body trembling in fear. Langdon always seemed like an overly ambitious, domineering asshole, but he has never shown off his much-gossiped supernatural ability. “What kind of monster are you?” your voice wavers in fear.

He raises a hand and you jump again, but brings the feeble fist to your face and grazes your cheeks softly with the backs of his fingers, the metal of his rings are cool against your skin. You blink out a fleeting tear and he wipes it away, still gripping your wrist hard enough to cut blood flow. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “I’d never hurt you.”

He leans down and gives your lips a small kiss, guiding your chin closer to him to deepen his kisses. You take a moment to kiss him back, but once you do, he accepts this as admission to devour you whole. He walks you backwards until your back is pressed against the piano. Then lifts up your dress, his greedy fingers find your clit and your eyes grow hazy, still trying to grasp the situation. He pulls down your panties and spits on your cunt.

He rubs the spit into your core and you let out a light whimper. Maybe it’s the fear adopting your body, but you relax as he continues undressing you. Langdon throws the pieces to your uniform aside until you’re completely naked. You’re dazed by him, almost like he’s drugged you, and now all of his advances seem palatable.

Langdon towers over you, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. You can already see how hard he is from the outline of his cock in his briefs. He spins you around and shoves you into the piano, your hips sock the hard wood and he pushes you down, lifting your ass for his consumption. He pries open your legs and you feel his dick press against you. Teasing by running up and down your folds. “You made this so easy for me, my love,” he croons. “Your pretty cunt is just begging for my cock now.”

He stretches you out, stuffing the fat head of his cock into you. You freeze as he does this, clawing at the edges of the grand piano you’re pressed against. He pushes himself deeper inside you and moans, your cunt writhes in pain. You feel your body tauten, embracing itself for another plunge. He pushes himself so deep that it feels like he rearranges your organs, you free a childish cry from your lips, a tear slips from your eye through a blink. “You may bleed, darling, but I can assure you,” he whispers and leans down, his full lips drag against the shell of your ear, “it will be electric.”

You squirm under him, now questioning whether or not you’re in over your head. Whether you are or you aren’t, Langdon is still going to use you like his personal, conceptive project. He hammers into you, growling and praising you for how tight you are. Occasionally you emancipate a moan, but it’s difficult to work past the pain. “Think of this as your baptism into the sanctuary,” he breathes, still pounding himself into your palpitating cunt. He still leans over you, speaking into your ear and creating friction between the two of your naked bodies. “We’re dirtying you up for the hellish dumpster fire of a world that we’re going to create… together.” You shudder at the thought.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the loud classical music echoes throughout the abandoned halls. You wish Venable would walk in and interrupt the two of you, alleviate you from the soreness already overtaking your tender cunt, but even she is too recreant to stand up to Langdon. You just have to lay down and accept it.

You feel your body resisting him, but he ignores the obvious signs. Only burrowing himself into you harder when your tight hole tries to reject him. He grabs onto your torso, pushing you against him and feeling his warm skin against your back. It almost reminds you of how you’d feel with a husband, a boyfriend, or simply a lover, but you question if Langdon could even claim that title.

His hands, once gently caressing you, now holds both of your wrists behind your back. Now you surely suspect both of your wrists to develop bruises. “It’ll get easier each day, kitten,” he assures you. His cock pounds your cervix as he speaks, you can’t bring yourself to respond. He uses a free hand to wipe away your tears.

He pulls himself out of you and both of you sigh, presumably for different reasons. “Mr. Langdon,” you say breathlessly, “this is a little excessive.” He laughs bitterly and begins positioning himself for re-entry. “Please,” you cry, not daring to change your position, “I don’t know how much more I can take.” Your breath fogs up the burnished wood.

“Well then, shouldn’t we figure that out?” his voice is as sweet as honey before he pummels himself into you again. You yelp from the unexpected intrusion. Your nails dig into your skin as he still holds a tight grip on your wrists with one of his large hands.

He pulls back your wrists so you stand up against him, your back pressed to his sturdy chest. His unoccupied hand sluggishly rubs your clit in circles and he kisses your neck, biting down on your skin and sucking until leaving a pale purple mark. You throw your head back, leaning it against his shoulder blade and he continues stroking you. His cock so deep inside of you that every movement feels lethal. You wiggle around, trying to find a position more suitable, less painful, but come up empty.

He breathes out a vacillating sigh. “You like how daddy stretches your tight little cunt?” he asks. He pushes himself balls deep and you cry, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. “Your pretty pussy swallows daddy up so well… mmm, you’re such a fucking mess for me right now.”

“You’re too big,” you whine into his burning hot skin.

He breathes out a sinister laugh, as if insulting your inability to endure his rough jabs. His hand careens up your body, glazing over your hard nipples and wrapping around your neck, squeezing tighter with each thrust.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. He squeezes harder, arresting your windpipe and cutting your breath. “To honour me with watching the life drain from your eyes as I fuck your tight hole?” Langdon stiffens his grip on both your wrists and your throat. More tears pour out of your eyes as he slams himself into you. “Pretty, pretty baby, dying by my very hand,” he jeers.

He spits down on your face, that must be turning red from the lack of air supply. Your lips part to beg him to stop, beg him for your life, but all that comes out is a short squeak that’s drowned out by the music. He spits on you again; it runs down your cheek and into your parted lips. He clutches tighter and tighter until your vision becomes foggy, then he lets go.

You hunch forward to collect your breath, still feeling the imprint of where his fingers restrained your throat. You try to wiggle your hands free to touch your neck, but he doesn’t allow you to move. Langdon throws his arm over your chest and presses you against him again, kissing your neck sloppily. You can’t keep up with his undulate sensuality… but of course, none of this was sensual.

His thrusts slow down but he pounds into you harder than before. Each of his breaths turn rugged as he groans against your skin marked in goosebumps. He thrusts one, two, three more times until you feel him release inside of you. Each thrust feels like it shatters your bones. He hauls himself out of you and you drop against the piano again. You feel his seed leaking out of your stretched hole as he finally releases your bound wrists.

He picks you up by grabbing your shoulders and spinning you around, although you’re essentially ragdolling at this point. He runs his tongue up your cheek until your eye, licking up the tears that have fallen while being fucked senseless. Then he kisses you, gently, almost lovingly. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, “we’re going to rule this fucking world, baby.”

[ms-demeanor]

After reading your "ultra-long postivity post", now I have kind of a weird feeling because i relate a lot to pretty much everything you said, but i ended up approaching the "not everyone can x" from the opposite side, being the "gifted kid" teachers used to hold everyone to unrealistic standards (that i knew most couldnt achieve in the given timeframes), and now i get frustrated when i dont develop skills immediately, because i have done it before and feel like i should be able to and aaaaaaaaaa

Funny story: when I was a kid my parents had both my sister and I tested for learning and developmental disabilities. This testing included IQ testing.

It identified that we were both “gifted” kids* and that I’m dyslexic.

It totally missed my ADHD, though!

The problem with that is that my parents. Hm.

Okay my parents both grew up in very poor families. VERY poor. And they both wanted to go to college and knew the only way that they could was through scholarships. So they became debaters. They met at a tournament in high school.

Debaters are weird. You need an efficient working memory and strong recall and the ability to think quickly on your feet. Being witty and kind of an asshole are also good traits for debaters. Basically you’ve either gotta be really fuck-off smart to be a competitive debater or you’ve gotta at least *seem* really fuck-off smart.

And my parents were champion debaters at a national level. The Whittier College debate trophy has my mom’s name written directly under Richard goddamn Nixon. My dad was on the USC debate team and competed against Harvard and won. Not only that but he ended up coaching debate for USC and Cal Tech.

So as kids who grew up in extremely poor families and were able to go to college and get middle-class jobs and buy a house because of intellectual ability my parents placed A LOT of importance on intellectual ability.

So that IQ score became a large part of my life.

First we attacked the dyslexia. The approach was basically teaching me a bunch of sight words because sounding out phonics doesn’t work when the letters get screwed up. And because I was *gifted* we did a lot of really BIG sight words.

It took about six months to get me up to speed from “memorizing the pages of a story to match the pictures because I couldn’t read along in class” to “the first book I read on my own was The Hobbit.” I guess that counted as “cured” because that was the last time I got any kind of educational assistance.

At that time I was at a gifted school, a really tiny private school that was also an after-school daycare where we did full-day classes and then did gymnastics and swim from 3-6pm. I also was there over the summer because my parents worked.

So going from “tiny private school where the teacher has you stand up in class to read your failing grade in front of everyone so that she could shame you into performing better” to “fine public school in a suburb wealthy enough to have arts programs” was a major, major change. They did an aptitude test because I was transferring in from a different district and there was much discussion about whether or not to move me directly from the second to the sixth grade.

The district refused, thank fuck.

The public elementary school didn’t *have* a gifted program so it took very little time for me to become the Certified Weird Kid. My third grade teacher had me read aloud to our class for twenty minutes a day. I taught the class the multiplication table.

When it got to be time to go to the junior high school my mom went to a meeting for the school’s gifted kids program. APPARENTLY one of the kid’s dad’s basically said “I don’t understand why you’re wasting school funds on field trips for the stupid kids, the school should spend more of its resources on kids who have a chance of actually meaning something to the world” and my mom decided that while being gifted was important it was less important than making sure I wasn’t exposed to assholes of that caliber on a regular basis.

(thanks mom, I actually do really appreciate that reprieve)

Several teachers pushed me into advanced classes - my math teacher insisted that I take the advanced algebra classes in the seventh and eighth grade.

The GATE kids *WERE* assholes and were extra bonus special assholes to me because math was the only advanced class that I was in. (At my junior high school you had to pick your elective based on what level of classes you were in - to take the GATE classes you HAD to take a music elective; if you took art, drama, shop, or home ec you couldn’t take the smart kid classes. The algebra class was a new, separate addition to the program so *some* of the kids in the “electives for dropouts” program could take algebra. Schools are really fucked up, guys, in case you didn’t know schools are really fucked up and that was BEFORE No Child Left Behind).

I got a C in that algebra class and sat in my room for literally an hour screaming at myself for being such a selfish, distracted idiot that I let myself read my books instead of studying harder for the class. (clearly very healthy, normal twelve-year-old behavior)

When it was time to go to high school my teachers made a united plea to the district to transfer me into honors/IB/AP classes.

The kids in the honors/IB/AP classes continued to be kind of awful to me. I got extremely depressed and basically started doing the lazy-but-brilliant thing of completely ignoring homework or in-class work but performing spectacularly well on tests or essays in the classes that I wasn’t catastrophically failing

I was the only person at the school who got a perfect score on the vocab part of my SAT. I was the only honors kid who hadn’t been in SAT prep classes. There was only one other kid who graduated with the same number of units as I had, we’d outstripped the valedictorian and salutatorian but three classes each. I only applied to one college - I got accepted for painting but my interviewer urged me to move to the writing program and I got accepted for that too.

My financial aid didn’t come through and my dad wasn’t willing to cosign for loans on “an art program at a trade school.”

I got accepted to Pratt Institute on their Writing for Publication track which included an internship with the New York Times for third-year students in the program.

At that point I had a Columbia Scholastic Press award for my work on my high school yearbook.

Let me tell you, the community college that I went to and spent five years variously failing and succeeding at had a fucking *killer* newspaper and magazine when I was there. The local community newspaper that hired me when I was 21 was also much better designed and edited than it had any right to be for the three years I worked there (getting paid a whole eight dollars an hour and sometimes working 20 hours straight to get it in to the printer on time).

When I transferred to the state school I got perfect grades and worked full time and won every contest offered by the school’s English Honors society (which I couldn’t join because I was a transfer student and hadn’t done honors classes my freshman and sophomore years). I started a literary magazine with some friends when I graduated; we published four full issues online before it fell apart.

You know what’s also funny?

Even the food-service job I had to pay my way though the community college I felt terrible about attending was a skills test. I was a barista, so of course for a while I was a competitive barista.

I disappointed my parents a lot. I heard a lot of “we know you’re better than this.” I got told I was too smart to be screwing up this bad. I mentioned it a couple weeks ago but my results from that IQ test got compared to my sister’s and that was the justification for holding me to a higher standard. “You’re measurably brilliant, why aren’t you acting like it?”

Here lies the corpse of a gifted kid. Look on my works ye might and despair.

I am the perfect picture of a twice exceptional gifted kid and the reason I wrote all of this out is to tell you one thing:

“Gifted Kid” is a label that someone applied to you, it has nothing to do with who and what you ARE.

It’s very, very unfair that the adults in your life used you that way. I have an exceptionally terrible memory of being singled out as the only one who passed the first test in my IB World History class; “Why is Alli the only one of all of you who is writing at grade level? You’re supposed to be the smartest kids in the school, why did you all fail?”

That’s awful for the kids around you, that’s awful for you. It doesn’t do anybody any favors if people around you are being informed that you’re setting the curve they’ll be judged against. And it really, really doesn’t do YOU any favors because it doesn’t take long *at all* for your brain to learn that that’s all you’re good for. If you aren’t the best at a thing then what’s the point, you HAVE to be best because they already SAID you were best and if you aren’t then all these other people hate you for setting a standard that even you can’t keep up with.

You end up competing with past versions of yourself and focusing on those things that make the grownups in your life praise you because the grownups in your life has praised you in such a way that it’s turned all the other kids against you.

You know who bullied the fuck out of me? The kids I taught the times tables to, the kids I read to for half an hour a day.

Those kids were MEAN to me but the teacher who told me to read Boxcar Kids to the class after lunch everyday was NICE and she told me not to worry, they were just jealous and I should be proud of my gifts.

“Anon did this in three minutes. What’s taking the rest of you so long?” - what a terrible weight to put on a child. You’re right. Not everyone can do everything.

Fucking hell.

Adults what the everloving shit is wrong with us? Please don’t treat kids like that.

Okay.

Okay.

But here’s the other thing:

If there’s any time in your life that it’s easy to acquire skills with no apparent effort it’s when you’re a child surrounded by a support system that is engaged in making sure that you can acquire those skills.

It took three adults, two dictionaries, and several hours a day to teach me enough sight-words to throw me into “look at baby genius*” territory but from my perspective as a little kid I was just reading cool stories.

I spent four hours a day in the yearbook room and ditched and failed other classes so that I could work on the yearbook. I collected hundreds of magazines to get an eye for layout. But from my perspective as a teenager it was a fun activity that I did with the closest thing I had to friends.

I’m sure that there are some skills that you had a natural aptitude for, some things that came naturally. But I’m also sure that you didn’t learn those skills with no effort, it’s just that now as an adult with a life and other shit going on it takes more effort to learn to do things.

In all likelihood you weren’t a savant who did everything perfectly the first time you tried. It just seems that way because even really smart kids don’t know when they’re bad at things and are mostly being compared against other kids (with the few rare exceptions of music prodigies or math prodigies or those kids who end up in science grad programs at 12 and boy howdy do I think there’s a whole other can of worms when it comes to the way child prodigies* interact with the world).

You wanna know what probably saved my life in the last few years?

That “anti-capitalist love notes” tumblr post.

You are worth more than your productivity.

You are worth more than your productivity.

You are worth more than your productivity.

I was actually kind of offended the first time I saw that post on my dash. “No I’m not,” I thought. “You’re only worth what you can do, everyone knows that. People care about what you do for them.”

And why the hell would I think anything else? That’s what I’d learned for pretty much my whole life.

It took me a really long time to understand that I was wrong. I matter outside of what I can do for people or how well I perform. I matter more than being able to perfectly recite poetry from memory or do calculations on command or sit down at a piano and play a piece I’ve never played by sight-reading it.

And you matter outside of that too. You’re more than your performance, you’re better than being gifted. There are people who love you for the way you make them laugh and how you listen to their stories and for the simple joy of your presence.

It’s nice to be clever, it’s handy in a lot of situations even if it does come with a lot of baggage for some people.

But god damn, it’s important to be kind.

* Personally I have issues with the way that society constructs the concepts of giftedness, genius, and prodigies. There are a lot of “gifted” kids who were the kids who scored in the top 5% of their class in school but there are also gifted kids who were doing high-level math or reading novels as toddlers; there are prodigies who showed an aptitude for music young and who were then schooled in that instrument to the exclusion of all other activities (and I bet there are a fair number of kids who might be considered prodigies if they were trained to play flute for nine hours a day and didn’t have friends but thankfully we don’t *do* that to very many people - side note, ask me my opinion about olympic athletes some time). Words like “genius” and “gifted” are very nearly meaningless and almost *never* accurately reflect skills proficiency or long-term success or are reflected in income or respect. People think that geniuses are hypercompetent robots with their shit together but literally every adult I know with a genius-level IQ is some variety or other of total fucking tire fire.

[lusus-automata]

In honor of segawa releasing a new game, I've been replaying end roll and I've just finished day 2, here are some thoughts I had while replaying

This was going to be under a read more, but apparently I dont know how to make those on mobile RIP dashes I'm genuinely sorry

Thought the first: in the intro sequence, someone (presumably a guard or escort of sort) mentions how embarrassing it is that someone as awful as russell gets to "live in such comfort" but like what fucking comfort??? theres nothing in the fucking room except for: a bed, a stand for the happy dream serum, and a tv that insults you it's not exactly the pinnacle of luxury dude

Anyway

Thought the second: I forgot how funny the conversation with gardenia is if you talk to her before going into the dozing forest with tabasa its fucking great

Thought the third: speaking of the more comedic parts of this game, if you talk to dogma a second time on the first day, he'll tell you that he hasn't finished cleaning the church and you shouldnt look too hard under the pews oh dogma this is why you're my favorite toscarina sibling

Thought the fourth: I really love the existence of the second gardenia. Like I know on a meta level she probably came to be because segawa needed a way for players to buy food while gardenia is in your party, but love the way it also feeds into the larger purpose of the happy dream. On a story level, there are two gardenias because russell doesnt know what the real gardenia was like. He never spoke to her and the birthday party was probably his first extended interaction with her and I doubt he was paying attention to what she was like. Therefore, the happy dream provides two possible gardenias. Who knows if either of them are accurate to the real deal. Russell sure doesnt and that's kinda the point. Theres A LOT of stuff in the happy dream that informs the player about russell and his psychology and his past without having to do so directly its fucking great

I might elaborate on some of that stuff later, it really deserves analysis

Thought the fifth: everything about the informant is genius. Who better to know you, then you? His dialogue is some of my favorite in the game because he has fucking ZERO sympathy for russell. But of course he doesnt! More than anything else in the happy dream, the informant is a direct reflection of russell. He is the part of russell that knows everything he did and WHY. Even when there was no "why." Especially then in fact.

If the purpose of the residents of the nameless town are to make russell feel guilty for the lives hes taken, then the informant exists to make russell feel guilty that he was the kind of person who could take those lives in the first place. "A horrible monster for whom motive is an afterthought" (or something like that, I havent reached that line again yet)

Hes my favorite character in this whole game hes great I might talk about him more later but that's enough for now

Thought the sixth: theres a maneki neko in kanteras store, but if you interact with it, russell doesnt know what it is. Russells level of knowledge about japan is all over the fucking place.

Things russell knows about japan: funeral processions, higanbana and their ties to death, at least some kanji (theres a few kanji characters here and there)

Things russell doesnt know about japan: its fucking NAME

Thought the seventh: okay this isnt actually in the game, but if you read the README file theres a bit that goes "almost all of the graphics and BGM are original, so please praise me" hkjkhkkjhk segawa I don't need you to remind me to do that your music SLAPS

Uuuuhhhh that's all I can think of for now may post again as I continue through the game

In the mean time, I encourage you to replay (or play for the first time) there are still things in this game I am discovering even though this is my fourth playthrough did you know theres a super ball hidden under one of the carpets in the sad birthday area? I didnt! Interact with everthing is the pro rpg advice

[houseki-no-suffering]

honestly in pad's perspective, them being in a coma didnt make rutile happy and them being healthy still didnt make rutile happy so it's like fuck you. try fixing me then, here's a piece of something that fixed me, see if you can replicate it if youre so stubborn about it. meanwhile, im gonna pay back the gem that actually helped me by giving myself to them cause you clearly only care about being able to fix me and not my recovering itself

after trying to answer this concisely, I found out that i had a lot of thoughts.

So have a meta about Padparadscha’s wish for death, Rutile’s insecurities and why Padpa came back to Rutile.

to latch onto your ask, the only time padpa speaks about making rutile happy is when we first see them. 

they just woke up from a centuries long sleep and rather than spend time with rutile, they go for a walk with phos, the ‘youngest little squirt’ who always tagged along sensei. the little jewel Padpa probably didnt have that close a relationship with, compared to other gems they have known for a longer time.

during this conversation, we quickly realize how similar these two characters are. Both of them need constant replacements: phos breaks all the time and the seventh treasure theory pushes them (unbeknownst to them) to lose and acquire new parts of their body. This is similar to padpa’s condition, with the difference that padpa’s has a much harder time accepting new pieces.

it’s ironic. phos could live the same life padpa does if their body wasnt so accepting of replacements (and we get a glimpse of it when they acquire lapis’ head and during the 220 years time skip). Padpa could live the same life as phos as well if their body wasnt as picky. Add pain, loss, the weight of a meaningless but timeless existence, of war, of crushing self-hate and helplessness. 

You can see that padpa and phos are aware of the similarities they share. So padpa moves it one step forward.

Padparadscha says they want rutile to give up on assembling them because they dont want to be a burden. For this we can assume two things:

1) like most of the old gems (and some of the young ones too), padpa has lost any interest in living. 

they arent alive for their own sake or because there is something they want to do or prove or see. Even after they go to the moon, they say they will sacrifice their whole being in seeing that phos’ mission is successful. They want to help phos and maybe they have new faith in change thanks to phos’ revolution but, ultimately, they still end up sacrificing themselves. 

Padpa never stopped considering their life like a chip they could bargain, they never stopped thinking about death.

2) Padpa doesn’t hate Rutile and they are living for Rutile’s sake out of kindness and resignation. perfectly aware of Rutile’s obsession with fixing them. 

To be “discreet and composed” is possibly the most recurring advice in HnK: be prudent, think before you act, have patience, wait, consider everyone else’s feelings, dont rush. Ultimately, this is just a cute wrapping for what these pieces of advice really mean: let it all go. 

Padpa let it go when they decided not to confront Rutile and they always stayed true to their resolution. They’re fond of Phos and fascinated by Phos’ ability not to let go, the one that made them an outcast, but even while helping them Padpa is still nonchalantly  putting their life on the line.

Padpa let it go. They dont speak with Rutile during the night raid. they dont think that communication will solve their problems. And the same is happening now.

Padpa’s face when they salute Rutile and give them a piece of their gem is like that of a mother who sees their lost child. If the child just doesnt understand, what good is to speak about things? 

They’re resigned, there’s tenderness in padpa’s eyes. It’s like they’re telling Rutile: “here, i’m back, sorry for the trouble. i did the thing i was meant to do. I’ll give you this piece so you can say you fixed me, like back then. It will be like old days: I’ll live for your sake again.”

This is directly connected to Yellow’s line in chapter 70, the one that sums up Rutile and Padpa’s relationship perfectly: “Padparadscha woke up! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

It isn’t. 

What Rutile wanted was to have absolute authority over their craft. If anyone can fix padpa, what’s Rutile’s skills good for? If they are disposable in a society where your worth and your value depend on how essential you are for the survival of the species, what good is Rutile?

It is ironic and profoundly sad and it shows you just how messed up the lustrous society is. 

I can think of few gems who are as un-disposable as Rutile. Euclase maybe, because they have a good grasp of the defects of their society and made themselves irreplaceable, Sensei, Bort… But Rutile is the only doctor, an excellent doctor. They truly are useful and their craft is praised and acknowledged as indispensable. And yet they too are disposable, because anyone can do their job if they train hard enough. Sensei can do their job better than Rutile.

So Rutile decided to embark on an impossible mission. They would fix Padpa. If they could succeed where everyone else had failed, where sensei had failed, they would be irreplaceable. They would be unique, needed, useful, worthy. 

Rutile is the umpteenth victim of the system. 

They didn’t tie their destiny and their self worth to a lost cause because they’re a psychopath. They’re just profoundly insecure, because insecurity is the only ground upon which a society and a community that refuses to mature emotionally and that teaches apathy can be built. 

This is not to say that Rutile doesnt care at all about Padpa. Rutile is probably unaware of the true meaning of their actions, but if you read between the lines you get a glimpse of the truth. For Rutile, it didnt really count whether Padparadscha woke up or not, what counted was that no one else but Rutile had a chance to wake them up. As long as the gems agreed that Rutile was the most suited for this task and could progress further than anyone else could, it was enough.  

This is where Phos was wrong. Taking padparadscha away didnt make things easier for Rutile, it took away from them their very mission, their self-worth, their guarantee that they were important and needed and worthy of existing in the lustrous society. 

This is why Rutile isnt devastated when Padpa falls unconscious after talking with Phos. This is why rutile tries to take Padpa’s replacements away during the night raid, this is why the say that they want to make Padpa worth something again “by my own hand” in chapter 62. 

This is why Padpa comes back to Rutile.

The problem is not whether Padpa can make Rutile happy or whether Padpa wants to upset Rutile and show them that Phos is the one that helped them in the end. Because yeah, Phos did, but Padpa wasnt looking for help. This is the umpteenth problem Phos couldnt fix: Padpa had let go.

Padparadscha is a keen observer. They are smart. They have been living for Rutile’s sake for hundreds of years, perfectly aware that they were not a person but a project, a puzzle that cannot be solved. By fixing padparadscha, Phos and the moon people have thrown away Rutile’s reason d’etre, they have stepped on their self-worth and destroyed their sense of security and confidence in their skills. They have taken away Rutile’s place in the world. Rutile cannot forgive them.  

Padpa knows, and that’s why, I believe, they never stopped thinking that they had to come back to Rutile. They have let it all go, with cold, simple rationality. They did what they could to help Phos, now they come back home. It doesnt matter if Rutile will decide to cure Padparadscha or not now, what counts is that, with that piece in their hands, Padpa has given back to Rutile power of life and death over them, purpose, meaning.

“Here,” they tell a mad Rutile, tossing their heart into the air for them to catch, “I’m yours to fix as you please.”

[hey-hamlet]

No Way UA (the one where U.A. sux and Yagi trains Midoriya as an apprentice insteas) meets Don't Praise the Seventh (the one where Nana Shimura was awful). Bonus points if Yagi's own past experiences with U.A. get involved.

UA is just a breeding ground for abuse - if you have a teacher who doesn't like you, it's very easy for them to intentionally get you hurt or single you out given how free the teachers are in their curriculum.

Nezu tries to get All Might to guest lecture here but he refuses point blank and 'accidentally' lets slip that, because he was a late bloomer, even he was knocked back from UA without 2 different pro heroes recommending him.

[logical-little-lies]

One Angel and a Brat-Agere!Sides AU (pt.9)

"Roman,no!" For the seventh time that day,Virgil had to stop Roman from doing something. 

"We do not jump on the couch,you could hurt yourself!" On the armchair,Logan sat there with Patton,who had a paci in his mouth as Logan read him a story in a soft voice. Patton kept pointing to the cutesy pictures,giggling and squealing,bouncing in his place on Logan's lap when he got excited. 

 If only Roman could be so calm. 

 Roman huffed,sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. "Stop giving me attitude, or an early bedtime tonight," Roman mumbled something under his breath, "what was that?" Virgil questioned. 

Roman's eyes widened,but he snapped back to the childish glare, "Dont care," he repeated. 

 "Papa? Why do Roman act like dat?" Patton looked up at Logan,who was obviously amused. 

 "Because he's a brat,unlike you. You're my little angel,such a good baby boy," he praised,kissing his forehead and causing him to blush. 

 "Thank you papa," he mumbled shyly around his pacifier. 

 "You even have good manners, you're such an amazing baby, aren’t you?" 

Meanwhile, "Roman I swear to god,if you don’t get off that couch I will-" 

 Roman got off the couch,hugging him and whimpering. Virgil sighed. This is how Roman was,he was super bratty and gave attitude, arguing,until suddenly guilt hit him and he felt bad. 

 It had been a few weeks since Roman first regressed. Patton had given up his naturally caregivery instincts,allowing Logan to practice taking care of him. Virgil hadn't felt super little since he had been helping out Logan when Patton regressed,and taking care of his own baby. He was okay with this,but taking care of Roman was hard. 

 Logan constantly rubbed it in his face that he had Patton,who regressed to a younger age and never acted out. All you needed to do is give him cuddles,a bottle,his paci,and something that'll entertain him. The first time Patton called him Papa,it slipped out and he was super shy,but Logan assured that it was okay,and that he found it adorable,and now it was a normal thing for them.

 "Sorry m' being bad Vee," Roman mumbled when he pulled away a few seconds later,looking down guiltily. 

 "Remember what I said about giving me attitude? And not listening?" Virgil questioned,and Roman hid his face. 

 "Nuthin! Didn't say anything!" "Mhm,okay," Virgil nodded with a slight eye roll, "come on,Ro." Virgil lead him into his room,sitting him on his bed. "Ten minutes,no toys,no talking,got it?" Roman pouted,but nodded. 

"Don’t move,got it?" Roman nodded again,and Virgil leaned over,kissing his forehead quickly. "It's okay baby,just a quick timeout,then we can forget about it,mhm?" 

 Roman felt a lot worse than he was letting on, he was always a brat until he felt like Virgil was fed up. Virgil must've caught on. "You okay,Ro?" Roman shook his head,hugging one of Virgil's pillows to his chest as his eyes glossed over. 

"Baby,baby,don’t cry please. It's okay,it's just a timeout," 

 "Y-you mad at me..because I don't listen ..." he sniffled, and Virgil sat next to him,wrapping his arms around the boy. 

 "You are just a brat,and while I dont like that,you're my baby boy. I might put you in timeout,or get onto you,but I'm not mad at you."

Roman didn’t respond, just burying his head in Virgil’s chest. “How about I stay here, and we just take a few minutes to let you calm down?”

“No timeout?” Roman mumbled.

“Sort of, it’s still a punishment, but I’m with you so you’re not as scared,”

“m’ not scared, Vee!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “mhm, sure.”

“cuddles?” he mumbled, and Virgil pulled him closer.

The sat there for a few minutes, until Roman was done crying, and stopped mumbling and talking. 

“I think that’s enough,”

Roman’s head snapped up, and he rubbed at his eyes slightly, “really?”

“Do you promise to be good?”

Roman nodded eagerly, and Virgil chuckled. He got off the bed and helped Roman up, “I love you.”

“love you too, Vee!”

A/N: Kay so the alternative name is: Roman Being a Brat and Avoiding Timeout BC his Caregiver is A Softie

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

heyy congratulations💕✨!! can i actually have a (male) ship for all the fandoms (if not, just do oscar characters (you have immaculate taste in movies, by the way)). im an entp and my star sign is capricorn. im very all over the place with my thoughts and i like talking a lot. like i already know this request is gonna be super long just ‘cause i ramble (im glad tumblr doesnt have a character limit anymore). in fact, i’ll send this short part in first and then the rest so you can like hide it under the cut or something. im so sorry 😂

so, my ramblings are probably why im considered an extrovert even though i feel like i might be an introvert sometimes. in my free time, i really like trying new things. i have a lot of hobbies that i pick up and drop at random but ive always been really into music (i think im a pretty decent singer. not good enough to make a career but enough to surprise people during karaoke).

ok, i feel like i kind of have to say this because the biggest stereotype of entps is that we’re argumentative... but im not that. i try to be very openminded and i hear people’s arguments before deciding on a stance (a lot of times, my opinion changes every time i talk about the topic. unless the topic, itself, is dumb. then i’ll be comedically stubborn (cereal’s a fucking soup, ok?)) and i’m also weirdly sensitive to other people’s emotions and i try not to say stuff that i know will offend them. i do thoroughly enjoy correcting people though. and debates are still very fun for me... a lot of times i come off as enfp/infp because im very excited/bubbly (when im horny (all the time)) and im very caring with my friends/family but i did my research and im definitely entp. im hella disorganized and i hate commitment (once i like you, though, prepare for me to sacrifice my life for you).

im good with other people’s emotions but the part i struggle with is managing/expressing my own. ive been told by multiple people that im very cold, which always surprises me because i try to act really “out there” with friends. i never dont expect them to see through it. most of the times, though, im not sure what people think of me. i kind of have a lot of different personalities that just ~materialize~ when im talking to a different person (woo defense mechanisms). one thing people dont realize is that im sarcastic but only with people i like. oh... yeah, when i have a crush on someone, i like to tease them. but im also stupid so sometimes i end up offending them instead of being lighthearted like with my friends (sometimes, but rarely, i will go too far with my friends too. even when i try not to). its my way of trying to reach out to them and show them im cool but it painfully backfires every. single. time.

uhhh, last thing, im a switch but definitely more on the “bratty-sub” side than the dom side. sometimes i go full on sub (degrading, praise, worship, bondage, etc) and i come back from it and im super confused because did that just happen?? this is just for your consideration, but usually, i really like hate to love type situations because the whole like “arguing as flirting” thing is just 👏🏻🥵 but im also really into best friends to lovers because in real life, i usually wouldnt like someone romantically unless i could potentially see them as my best friend, platonically.

ok, so. i just stalked your ENTIRE page and i ship you with llewyn because youre really sweet (you deserve each and every follower, by the way. id die for you) and i feel like he needs that in his life. i also think maybe nathan(?) could work because he could learn a lot from you, emotionally. if not, i was thinking abel too. IDK. for starwars, poe because you seem just sane enough to stop him from like killing himself on accident because hes so dumb? also i could totally see you two as “arguing for a good amount of time before getting together” BUT i could also see “we were good friends before getting together” which- 😫😫 having to pick a scenario from my two favorite tropes for you and poe is a good sign for me. same reasoning for anakin. i think mando could also really appreciate your presence on his ship because youre kind and could take care of the child. for marvel, you lowkey could be really good with peter parker or scott lang (one of the soft, silly boys).

sorry for making this so long 😂

Thank you!! And don’t apologise it was an entertaining read🤣

---

MCU:

I ship you with...

Bucky Barnes 😎

It takes a while for Bucky to feel comfortable around you. He sees you with Sam often when you’re having one of your movie marathons or you’re just hanging out. He really wants to talk to you but he’s shy?? You find him attractive but then he is also intimidating.

Then Sam interferes and his solution is to set up a blind date for the two of you. It’s a little awkward in the beginning but you find his shyness endearing as hell. As time goes by, his true self shines through, you realise he is such a romantic and he always finds a way to sweep you off your feet. Horny all the time? He’s literally a super soldier so the stamina...

Star Wars:

I ship you with...

Finn🥰

Imagine, you always lean on each other to vent about things and gossip about other people. Rey is busy as hell and Poe is a dumbass (the the topic of the vent most of the time). Plus he’s General now so a distraction from all the work is very welcome and hence a lot of meet me outside i got a bottle of whisky texts from him. Eventually that turns to just hanging out because he wants to spend time with you.

He probably knows everything about you because he loves to listen to you ramble about anything and everything. Hence he’s one of the few people who you feel comfortable enough to be yourself. And then that turn to making out under the stars on a picnic mat and the rest is history.

Oscar Issac Characters:

I ship you with...

Nathan Bateman😈

It’s almost like you have a seventh sense to detect Nathan’s true emotions despite how much he tries to cover them up. He hates it. So he’s mean to you hence creating a vicious feedback loop of hatred. Queue 100k enimies to lovers slow burn But eventually things work out and Nathan learns to open up a tiny bit to you.

Bratty sub you say? Nathan loves a partner who bites back. Speaking of, on the rare occasion that the two of you show face in public, no one can stand to be around you two since you are always bickering. But trying to one up each other is just your love language.

[tenpin-boleyn]

Rebellious Parr at School!

These were thought up by @wolfies-chew-toy and I- mostly MB- because Cathy going through teenage rebellion is I C O N I C

There are some teenage Anne in here too but mostly our girl Cathy P 🖤

Also I’m sorry about the length- I’m on mobile so I can’t add a read more :)

•Anne got her heelys confiscated, so she decided to sandpaper the bottom of her shoes so she can slide around like a penguin. No wheels? No problem.

•Catherine being the feminist icon that all teachers fear:

“NO I AM NOT READING ROMEO AND JULIET AS ITS A DEROGATORY REPRESENTATION OF WOMEN AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH”

Then Catherine promptly gets removed from the class.

“Catherine don’t you have English right now?”

“Don’t you have your funeral!!.... oh my god Mrs lynn I’m so sorry” because Cathy is a badass but she still has feelings

•Confusing the teachers on a daily basis:

"Hitler is kinda like Kim Jong Un dont you think?"

"Miss Parr and Miss Seymour what are you talking about?"

"Miss, isn't Kim Jong Un rather like Hitler?"

"Please stop discussing your Kpop idols in my class."

•The school has different colors led name tags for the different years, eg. Seventh year, yellow, eighth year green etc.

You can bet your ass Parr has a name tag in each colour and wears them all at once. It ranges from her actual name to Catradora. She has a name tag that just says CatParr420 and wears it everywhere.

And 90% of the time she wears a blank one and carries around a marker

“Umm excuse me what’s your name?”

Which prompts Cathy to draw on a fake name.

“Anita Willtolive”!

•She draws penises on all the whiteboards of every class she enters in permanent marker.

•One time the school used a drone to film the morning assembly and the noise annoyed Cathy so much she picked her book from morning reading up and h u r l e d it at the drone.

All you can hear before the recording stops is “YEET”

Did she get detention? Yes

Was it worth it? HELL YES

•You can bet your bottom dollar that Anne is in that detention too.

Anne's reasons for detention range from stuff like chatting to general shenaniganery but Cathy is just oPEN DEFIANCE

•She only is nice to her classmates

•And selected teachers

•She's a dick to everyone else

•But if she sees a kid on their own she’ll go out of her way to be lovely to them and to that one annoying teacher she hates, she’s a hell raiser

•She once moved the empty table next to her desk away to the other end of the class to stop teachers from sitting next to her- whilst the teacher was trying to sit at said desk.

•Catherine openly questioning EVERYTHING

“But if everyone is only nice to get into heaven surely that defeats the purpose and they’re being fake”

•She would fall asleep in front of the teacher

She'd just yell goodnight really loudly and knock out on her desk

•Honestly it’s a wonder she hasn’t been kicked out, but Jane thinks it’s because her grades bring up the school average

•She does her homework the moment she gets it and is finished by the end of the day

•Anne just puts in her file and lets it rot

•Parr gets in trouble for handing in Anne’s homework that Parr did but Anne has no idea. Cathy just wanted to make sure she didn’t fail

•Anne teaches Parr how to get discounts in the cafeteria, because Parr needs free cookies.

•Parr is Anne's defender when it comes to detentions

•She gives the teacher her Stare™️ and they instantly clam up

•Their detention desks are side by side and they have like those partners in crime necklaces but instead of two halves on their necklaces they’re carved into the tables

They they put them together they just line up

“Parr scares all the teachers except the German teacher who is literally Satan.

•Anne looks scary but she is basically harmless

•Parr looks like she wouldn't hurt a fly but given the chance she would 100% bite her teacher's hand off

•Anne has like five piercings and the messiest uniform in existence while Parr has only one piercing in each ear and the neatest uniform in existence but the moment Parr opens her mouth you better run

•She once bit a first year because they got in her way

•Cross any of Parr's friends or Parr herself and you might as well drop out because you'll be on a hit list for your whole education career

•She’s got a little black book of people that’s annoyed her because eventually she forgets but she’s too petty to let her memory get the better of her

•Anne has been on it at least once but Parr always strikes her name out

•She once kicked Parr in the stomach trying to show off her sandpapered shoes

•The shoe flew off and hit Parr in the stomach

She would have screamed at Anne but Anne’s puppy dog eyes are irresistible

Especially at 12 years old because she’s literally a baby

Like not even in a sexual way, you just can’t say no to those eyes

•Seymour has also been on the list once

But Parr got her revenge

What did Seymour do? She keeps taking Parrs highlighters

So Parr makes her pay money for every time she uses her highlighters

And one day a teacher sees and thinks it’s a drug deal

Every late payment is + 1 quid

Jane knows better than to accumulate late payments because Parr is ruthless when it comes to money

•When a classmate lost Parrs calculator and didn't pay her back, Parr literally carved owe money pay money onto her desk and got that person's friends to remind them daily till they paid her back

•Every time that person saw Parr in the hallways they'd turn around and head the other direction

•Tardies don't matter when the most trigger-happy person in school is out for your blood

•The day that she’s sat next to Parr in the seating plan is the day she moves schools

•Even then Parr still tracks her down

•She waits for them at the school gate with the most murderous smile on her face

•You just see Anne behind her chewing gum, snapping her fingers and doing jazz hands

•And the person is rapidly dialing their parents while screaming MOM COME PICK ME UP I'M SCARED

•Suddenly Aragon pulls up with the others and shouts at the pair “get in losers we’re going shopping”

"How the hell did you even find them Cathy?"

"I just followed the smell of crippling debt and it led me here."

“No seriously how?”

“Anne never turns her snapmaps off”

•Also Parr made the PE teacher cry more than once. More than twice. Okay it was 27 times.

•Parr has a pen knife and people try to confiscate it but she just brings out a printed sheet of paper that says that “a knife may be carried as a self defence weapon if it is under 9 inches and is retractable”

•She made the history teacher quit.

•One time she threatened to give someone salmonella because they were giving Anne and Kat a hard time

•Both Anne and Kat are in special ed and someone thought it'd be funny to bully them cuz of it

•She was skipping class in the toilets and two girls walk in and start bad mouthing Anne and Kitty so she kicks open her door and looks at them whilst sucking a lolly pop “hello bitches say goodbye to ur eyebrows”

•Parr is super defensive of the two of them

•She teases them sure but if anyone else tries, they have to sleep with one eye open

•Anne and Kat don't understand why people keep coming up and apologizing to them

•When they ask Parr, she just shrugs and smiles

•Parr used to be super motivated back in year seven. When year eleven rolled around, she became a little more rebellious, first the name tags, then the mouthing off. Then it escalated further and further. No one else but Parr and Anne knows what happened to cause this change

•Parr is soft for Anne and Kat and Anne and Kat alone

•She roughs up Aragon, Seymour and Cleves bc she knows they can take it. She's soft when she needs to be and not many people see that side of her

•Her favourite teachers rarely see that side either. Only during teacher's day when she sneaks into the staffroom to give them homemade cookies

•Parr wears leather jackets to class and no one dares question her.

•Anne learnt Chinese and how to play the guitar during detention so that she could sing for Parr the next time they had a session together

•Anne singing Unchained Melody exactly like in ghost the musical, and does the little elvis riff too

•Parr and Anne facetime and do Kahoots together because they need to study aka theyre competitive as shit

•Cathy gets excited in class and stands on her chair and yells "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK. U COMING TO KILL ME???" And promptly gets removed from the class.

•Parr gets a "Little Miss Adventurous" award for having the most travelled converstation.

BONUS:

•The queens doing that egg project where they have to bring an egg home and keep it for a week

•Anne calls hers Eggward Eggburt.

•Aragon drops it the moment she gets it

•Anne brings the egg home and makes it into an omelette

•Jane does well till the sixth day where she goes fuck it and uses it to bake cookies.

•Cleves breaks it during lunch after Anne called her a name and she threw it at her

•Kat gives hers to Jane and it's baked into chocolate chip cookies

•Parr shuts hers in the fridge for a week and takes it out at the end of the week

•Anne gets asked where her egg is and she pats her stomach which results in Kitty yelling “YOURE PREGNANT?!”

•Jane gets asked where her egg is and she holds up this cookie jar and offers the teacher one

•Parr is praised for being the only one in class for having an intact egg and then she grabs the egg and breaks it on the teacher's head cuz she 'needed to shut up'

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Okay, so, like, if you're uncomfortable answering this, that is absolutely alright, but I'm curious and it doesn't. like a completely inappropriate question, necessarily, so I'm gonna ask, but also apologies bc my social skills are lacking so it may be. How are you so confident in yourself and what you do? And do you have tips/help/recommendations for getting a similar or. y'know, any self-esteem?

not uncomfortable, you’re good uhhhh gonna get a lil dicey-talk here but theres really no way to sugar coat this first point - 

i got mental illnesses out the ears, basically, and was suicidal from 10-19, at which point i was committed to a psych ward. it was bad. 

all this you see, its not something that comes naturally to me. honestly if you went back in time and showed 15-year-old me this ask the first thing out of their mouth would probably be surprise i was alive for you to send it, followed by laughter

so i promise i am not preaching from some high mountain here. I get it, i really do.

and this is maybe not going to sound like helpful advice (it didn’t sound helpful to me when i got it) but - Just blatantly, lie-through-your-teeth fake it.

When you trip its not an “im such a klutz” joke you make - its a “look at me, a total deity of grace in this bitch” etc etc

and youre gonna feel a little silly, honestly.

but heres the idea - some things you can fake, and some you cant. kindness, for example. there is no such think as “pretending” to be kind. an action is kind or it isn’t - your motive doesn’t make a difference. if you give a homeless man a twenty out of nothing but empathy or you do it because you’re with someone and you’ll feel guilty if you dont, either way you did a kind thing, and thats kind.

everybody thinks confidence is something you can fake (people talk about “false confidence” all the time) but thats not really accurate either. Confidence isn’t what you think (thats self esteem) its a way you behave.

yes the usual way this goes for most people is High Self-esteem > More Confident Behavior, and Low Self-esteem > Less Confident Behavior

but theres no reason you cant do it the other way around.

and i do know, i promise, how hard it is to say nice things about yourself when your self esteem levels are the downstairs neighbors of the seventh circle of hell. 

its like pulling teeth. and it doesn’t feel genuine, and it doesn’t feel natural and you feel like you could say it a hundred times and it will never sound less obviously fake

if it helps, say it sarcastically - but if you can just manage to get a compliment out of your internal monologue, thats progress, even if its mocking.

because the more you do it, even sarcastically, the more likely you are to do it without thinking - eventually you’ll get to a point where its a coin flip, if you get Just Mean Inner You or Sarcastically Nice Inner You. and then its usually sarcastically nice, and then you get so used to hearing the compliment you start to just hear regular compliments.

another example - children. they need encouragement and kindness and praise and all that good good emotional enrichment. most people know this.

but you never stop needing that - its not a kid thing, its a people thing. think of your self esteem like inner-child-you, who needs compliments, and gentle words, and needs to be told their drawing or their story or the stuff they glued together into a sculpture is cool and neat (because it is) even if grown-up you on the outside doesnt actually believe it yet.

basically - if you wouldn’t say it to a child or your friend, dont say it to yourself. think of what you would say to them, and try to say that instead.

[ladyboltontoyou]

Arthur Morgan x Reader: Farmer’s Daughter. 2

Warnings: Cursing probably. Smut. 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

A/N: HELLO AGAIN. Listened to ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros while I wrote this lmao.(Okay I listened to it like three times in the span of the three hours it took me to write this) You should all listen to it, gave me young Arthur x reader vibes tbh, it’s super cute and happy. RIGHT OK so I hope you guys like this one as much as you enjoyed the first one, didn’t plan this to be more than a one-shot but more than one person wanted it to be so here I am. Hope the smut didn’t feel too rushed! I was going to do a few time skips but this just felt right to me. Thanks so much for your notes, comments, and reblogs, they mean the world to me.

It had been a week without any sign from Arthur, and on the seventh day you had almost given up hope. But he showed up right when you were about to fall asleep, knocking over a vase on your table when he climbed through the window it sat in front of.

You sat up in bed and pulled the sheets over you, frozen solid in fear for a good ten seconds before your eyes adjusted to the light and you made out Arthur picking up the vase from the floor. 

“You scared the daylights out of me.” You whispered as you calmed down from the near heart attack.

“Your doors were locked, so I uh, knocked on the window. You didn’t wake up and, well, here I am.” He sounded slightly embarrassed, taking his jacket off to put on the floor. “Sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to do that, a little water is okay.” You said as you climbed to the foot of the bed, but his jacket had already soaked up the spilled liquid. 

“Exactly. I’ve got other coats. At least it ain’t leather.” You both laughed a little at that and then you lit your bedside candle. 

“Close the curtains, will you?”

He looked over his shoulder and realized he’d not only left the window open, but he gave a good view to anyone who looked up at the balcony. He quickly did as you asked, closing the window too. “You draw anything while I was gone?” He asked as he walked back over and sat in the chair at your table. 

Another reason he was such a good man, he sat a respectable distance away from you when there was a whole bed he could have taken advantage of. 

Which damn, you wished he would. 

If there was anyone in the world who was sexually frustrated, it was a tie between you and Arthur. You had sex only once in your life, and it wasn’t even good. You had many other opportunities with pretty attractive people, but your family was almost constantly on you so you had no time to sneak away. And for Arthur, well, it’s self explanatory. 

“A few things.” You admitted and crawled back to the head of your bed and pulled out the drawer of your nightstand. Your brand new sketch pad laid in there, your father had bought it for you a few days before since you had already filled up your last one. 

“Really? Well, I’d love to see them.” He hated how vulnerable he felt then. Snuck into some girls room, knowing damn well he was a fool for being there. He fawned over you a little too much for his liking, last time he had butterflies over a girl he was very, very, very young. But that was the last thing on his mind for once. All he cared about now was the farmers daughter in her silk night-dress with the sketch book in her hands. 

You opened to the first page where a simple sketch of a cat waited to be praised. “This is my cat Scully.” 

Arthur got up from his seat and walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, squatting down at your knees so he could see properly. “Well, look at that.” He grinned and you handed the book over to him, which he gladly took. “How’d they get that?” He pointed to the right ear which was missing the top half. 

You leaned over to look at what his finger pointed to and sighed. “One day when I was real young, I was playing outside and the neighbor's dog came over, guess he didn’t like how I smelt so he started growling at me. Scully, she saw me crying and came over, kicked its ass then chased it off.” You laughed when you remembered how your parents treated the cat afterward, taking her to the most expensive vet they could find. She was queen of the house from then on out. 

Arthur snorted, his head bobbing slightly as he did so. “That so? She’s braver than any man I’ve ever met.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. “You can go through them, there's only two more in there.” Your heart sped up in excitement when you remembered the last picture was something you’d done for him, a silhouette of him standing on your balcony overlooking your farm land. 

He turned the page slow as to not wrinkle the expensive paper. When he saw the next one he raised his brows. “Christ, girl. You need to be selling these.” 

The one he was looking at was a more detailed sketch, one you had done the day before. You still needed to do a little more shading on it, but it was mostly done. It was your parents sitting outside at the bench in your garden, they were both laughing and holding wine glasses. Your father had told your mother something funny and she was almost doubled over, one hand in front of her mouth and the other holding the glass outwards so she didn’t spill any on herself. They were surrounded by their roses and jasmine. 

“How do you remember something like this?”

You shrugged with the biggest smile on your face and a blush in your cheeks. “Something like that just sticks.” 

He looked up to you and shook his head before looking back down. “You’ve got me speechless.” He flipped to the next page and completely froze. He didn’t say anything for a minute, which worried you, but then he just let out a huff-like laugh of disbelief. “This me?” He knew it was him but for some reason he felt like he had to ask, just to hear you say it.

“Yes, it’s not weird, is it?” You asked while you chewed on your bottom lip nervously. 

Arthur scoffed and stood up before sitting down on your bed next to you, his eyes on the paper the whole time. “I’ve never seen myself the way you draw me. Even though this is just my damn figure.”His words really hit you. You knew what he meant by it and although you wanted him to explain it himself you knew it was something he wouldn’t go into detail about. He probably didn’t even mean to say it, it was most likely a slip of his tongue. 

After what seemed like several minutes he closed the book and handed it back to you. “No, this is for you.” You opened the book back open and cleanly tore the page out, handing it to the man sitting next to you. 

“I appreciate it. I really do.” He said and walked over to the table, setting it down on top of his satchel. His hand lingered there momentarily, considering taking out his own journal and giving you the paper he had spent days perfecting. Anxiety gnawed at him and he pulled his hand away, turning back to you. “Sorry I didn’t come back earlier, by the way. Got caught up in some business and ended up in Valentine for a while.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You waved him off. “You didn’t even have to come back, we barely even know each other. You got what you came for the first time anyways, you could have taken my hundred dollar drawing and sold it to make yourself a rich man.”

He laughed and sat down at the foot of your bed, making sure to keep a proper distance from you so he wouldn’t scare you off. If only he knew you wanted the complete opposite. “Now, a hundred-dollars isn’t very rich, why do that when I could keep coming back and get more? That would be one hell of a business.”

Where on this cold earth did this man come from? How were you so lucky to know such a good person? Given, you had only seen him two times, but he had still made a name for himself. He had a good sense of humor, he was polite, and goddamn he praised your art like it was god. If there was one sure way to your heart it was through that. And not to mention he was incredibly attractive. Fit as could be, well-groomed yet he had this dangerous look about him that said he could put you down in two seconds flat if you tried him. 

You wished he would.

In an attempt to clear the dirty thoughts that had flood your head you brought up a new subject. “The last time you were here you said my drawing was better than yours, you never answered me when I asked if you drew too.” You said and tried to look casual as you watched him for a reaction. 

He cleared his throat and looked away from your gaze, his eyes landing on everything in the room besides you. “I said that? Of course I would. That sounds like something I’d say.” He laughed to try to chase his anxiety off. “Sure, I do. A little bit.”

“Do you have anything you could show me?” You asked and pulled your legs back up onto the bed, making yourself comfortable as you continued watching him. It was hard not to, every single thing he did was mesmerizing.

He scratched his chin and sighed. “Yeah, I do.” He reluctantly grabbed his satchel from the table and pulled his own journal from it. “They’re not the best, but, well, look for yourself. There’s some writin’ in there too, pay no mind to that.” He handed you the worn leather book and you flipped through it. It was mostly full of wildlife, plants and scenery. 

“These are really good. This wolf looks like a photograph.” You said as you went through the pages. Some of his work was way better than anything you could ever dream of drawing, but he probably thought the same about yours. There were a few small doodles that made your heart melt, like one of a poodle that looked like he drew under sixty seconds. 

You had gotten so wrapped up in looking at the pages you didn’t even notice the way he was looking at you. He looked at you like he was seeing something so magnificent, and if he dared look away he would miss something. The way your eyes scanned over the paper, the way you would smile when you saw something you found his drunk doodles, it made him feel like he was drunk then and there. He had almost forgotten about what he drew you, on the newest page. When your expression changed to something unreadable his heart sped up and he shifted anxiously on the bed.

“This is me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Not because it was you, but because you knew it was the way he saw you. You were wearing that pretty white sundress you had worn the day he first saw you and you had jasmine flowers in your hair. You looked like you were in the middle of walking, your left hand trailing through the tall grass he had drawn you in. You had a small smile on your face and you were looking directly in front of you as if you knew you were being drawn. It looked amazing, so beautiful you couldn’t believe that was actually you. But sure enough it was identical. “I look so pretty.”

Arthur scratched the back of his head, torn between feeling utterly in love with you and feeling disgusted at how sappy and vulnerable he was. “I draw what I see.” 

That was all you needed. You set the book down beside you and threw all your inhibitions out the window, crawling to the foot of the bed to kiss him. You took his face in your hands and pulled him towards you. His trimmed beard felt rough in your hands but you loved every bit of it. His lips felt even better against your own, they were hot and tasted raw as if he had been chewing on them for hours. 

Arthur inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes wide and his hands raised off his lap in surprise. He wanted to push you off because he knew it was wrong and you’d regret it later. He told himself you had to have been drinking, there was no way any woman like you would kiss someone like him. 

You were the one to end the kiss, but only because you were running out of breath. It seemed he had been too, since when you parted he sucked in a breath. 

“Now why did you do that?” He asked immediately, his voice faultering.

“I don’t know.” You admitted with a shrug and a soft laugh. “I just wanted to. I’m sorry, I should have asked. I just, really… really like you, Arthur. I know we haven’t been in the same room as each other a total of ten hours… but I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this. I don’t know what the normal thing to do is when you like someone like this.”

Arthur shook his head and sighed. “Don’t do that. Please. Don’t.” 

“Give me a reason.” You were still so close you were practically touching, your knees a hair length apart. “Because I don’t see any good reason not to.”

“(Y/N), I’m not a good person. I don’t know if I’ll stay around here long, I don’t normally stay in one place for too long. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, you’re a young beautiful woman. You could have any man, hell, any man or woman you’d ever want.”

“Really? Well, I want you.” 

He sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head again. “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, I want you, Arthur. I don’t want anyone else, not right now at least. And right now is all that matters.”

At your words he groaned, hearing the sentence ‘I want you’ coming from your mouth was too much for him. “But-”

You shut him up with another kiss, this one shorter but more heated. “Listen Arthur, I’m a big girl, okay? I won’t be heartbroken if we never see eachother again. I’ll be sad for a while, sure, but like you said. I’ve got my whole life. I’ll get over it.” You smiled and took off his hat, setting it beside him. “You think pretty highly of yourself if you think one night will be the end of me.”

Arthur laughed and finally looked at you. “You’re stubborn. You know that?”

“Of course I do. But now you’ve got me interested, what’s so good about you that you want to protect me from missing?” You questioned with an innocent smile, placing a hand on his knee. 

He grew serious again and the playful smile disappeared. “(Y/N), I don’t think this is such a good idea.” He warned while he still had the mindset to think that deeply. Your hand on his knee wasn’t helping his good intentions. “If your folks-”

“Don’t worry about them. They sleep on the other side of the house with the river right outside their window. The only thing that will wake them is screaming, or the dogs outside. But don’t worry, I can be quiet.” You winked and took his hand in yours, impressed by how huge they seemed compared to you. “Please?” 

There was no way of explaining how you got the idea to start kissing his fingers, it just felt right. Arthur closed his eyes and groaned in the ‘What have I gotten myself into’ type of way. There was no way he could say no to you, not when you were doing… that. “Christ, woman.” He hissed when you pulled him forwards towards the head of the bed. 

He took a quick second to take his boots off and blow out the candle, providing you with a more comfortable sense of safety. There was no way anyone besides the two of you could see what was going on in your room.

He climbed back on the bed and kissed you, one hand on your cheek and one on the bed beside you. Arthur kissed so sensual and deep that you felt like you were kissing someone you had been married to for your entire life. Your heart swelled and all the blood made its way between your legs in a hurry. “Take this off.” You whispered against his mouth as you unbuttoned the front of his shirt. 

He finished the rest of the buttons, sitting up on his knees to pull his arms out of the shirt. Once it was off he hurried back to kissing you like his life depended on it. He loved the feeling so much he totally forgot about the rest of his clothes and only stopped when you placed your toes on his belt buckle and gently pushed him back. 

You smiled when he laughed and shook his head at you. “What? Don’t like taking your time?” He teased and lowered his hands to unbuckle his belt. The imagery mixed with the gentle clink of metal as he took his belt off drove you mad.

“I do once the clothes are off.” You meant to tease him back but you sounded far too serious. He had nothing to say to that so he just finished taking his belt off, laying it with his hat at the foot of the bed. When he leaned forward again you stopped him with your foot on his chest. “Keep going.”

“Maybe you should've been the one warning me.” He breathed and pulled his pants down his hips, standing from the bed to pull them off the rest of the way.  “There’s no way I could have you just once.” 

Good. You thought. You didn’t want him just once either. 

Once he finally got his pants off you felt it was unfair that you were still fully clothed so you reached under your dress and pulled down your panties. He watched as you pulled them off of your raised feet with a look that just screamed sex. “Am I dreamin’?” He asked with a laugh, sliding back onto the bed in front of you. 

“Come here and find out.” You grinned and spread your legs a bit, just enough to notice but not enough for him to see anything exciting.

“Jesus, woman.” His voice was barely a whisper and he leaned back into you, grabbing your waist gently to pull you flat on your back, his hips pressed flush against you. You could feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of his underwear and it drove you fucking crazy. He finally started taking the lead then and he slipped his hand between the two of you, sliding his fingers down your slick folds to your entrance. When he pushed a finger inside of you the both of you gasped, he didn’t expect you to feel so good around him. 

“Oh, fuck.” You muttered and closed your eyes, grabbing onto his biceps. His arm muscles tensed under your touch, mostly his right arm since that was the one with its fingers inside you. 

He kept at that for a while, curling it inside you in sync with the beat of his heart. You came just from that. When he felt you tense up around him mixed with the feeling of hot cum oozing down his hand he lost any patience he had left. He took his hand out from between your legs and kissed you again, using his right hand to take the last article of clothing he had off. When he pressed back down into you the breath hitched in your throat. 

“God.” You moaned and moved your hands from his arms up to tangle into his hair. “I want you so bad, Arthur.” 

As if he couldn’t be in any more of a hurry, you had to go and say that. 

“You have no idea.” He said with a grunt and used a hand to guide the tip of his cock against you. He rubbed it up and down your slit a few times and you let out the filthiest sound he had ever heard. You locked your ankles around his back and pushed him into you, catching him by surprise. 

The feeling of his cock fully inside of you was indescribable. You arched your back and rolled your head back into the pillows. He groaned and grabbed the bottom of your nightgown to pull off of you. You had to help him get it off your shoulders. After it finally came off he sighed, looking down at your body.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered and leaned back down into you. His thrusts were slow, but only for a few of them. Once he was sure you were ready he let himself go completely. You pulled his head down to yours and kissed him again as his cock drove in and out of you at a quick steady pace. He felt so amazing inside you, the feeling of his cock rubbing against that one special spot gave you your second orgasm. 

Your third came when he rough handled you a little bit for the first time, he had grabbed your thighs roughly and slammed himself inside you about four times. The sheer force of it all knocked the air out of your lungs and left you paralyzed. The fourth time you came he had flipped you onto your stomach. The way he could manhandle you to easily was so hot to you that you swore you fell in love with him then. 

When he pushed his cock back into you at the new angle was when you came, and god, he felt it. He almost came with you but he thankfully had the will to pull out and give himself a few seconds to calm down. Once he had enough time he continued fucking you into your mattress. 

This all went on for what only felt like a few minutes. You had no idea that you’d actually been at it for nearly two hours. You probably would have gone longer if you didn’t decide to sit in his lap, that had been what finished him off. 

When you were on top of him his cock reached deeper inside you than it had ever been before. He was stunned for a second, unable to move as you rode his cock and pulled his head back by his hair. When you sunk your teeth into his neck was when he truly lost it. He came undone in you, grabbing you by your hips and forcing you down further onto his length. 

The noises that came from him sounded so primal it led you to your final orgasm. Thank god you came with him because there was no way he’d be able to go again after that. He’d be surprised if he had the energy to climb down that lattice and onto his horse. 

No one said anything for a good while but that was okay. You couldn’t talk if you tried. You were too busy gasping for breath to form words.

Arthur was the first to speak. “I should probably leave now, I told Dutch I’d only be out a few minutes.” He sighed when he remembered that the older man had told him not to stay out too long since the law was keeping an eye out for them. You had no idea who Dutch was but you nodded anyways. 

“Alright. I should go to sleep anyways, I’ve got to wake up early in the morning to go to town with my mother.” 

Arthur nodded and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, noticing how messy it had become. Before he came over he had made sure it looked nice but now he was sure it looked as if he had no idea what a comb was. 

You watched him pull his clothes back on, almost forgetting his hat and belt. He slipped your picture for him in his journal and safely secured it, sliding it back into his satchel. 

After he gathered his things he gave you one last kiss at the doors, full of more passion than any others you had previously shared. “Could I come see you again sometime?” He asked after you parted with the most adorable smile on his face. 

God. He was right in his warning, there was no way you could get over a smile like that.

“Arthur, you know the answer to that.”