#and when will i learn that tumblr does not actually know whats ‘for me’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sheeezu · 2 months ago

Text

Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.

I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.

Yes. I've shifted.

I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.

I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.

Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:

I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.

So? Why did I mention this?

Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:

"Shifting needs practice!"

Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.

Though, is the phrase actually true?

No, not at all.

Shifting does not need practice!!

Here's why:

(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)

The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)

Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)

Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.

Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.

I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:

My journey:

I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.

A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.

First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.

Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.

Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.

Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)

I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.

I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.

Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.

A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.

The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.

LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.

And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.

Background to my first shift:

It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.

I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.

The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.

But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:

"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."

Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.

I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.

And with a blank mind I thought.

"I won't have to take any test today."

And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.

The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.

So the test got cancelled.

Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.

I decided to apply this to shifting.

Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)

And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.

My method and what happened next:

First phase of shifting:

When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)

I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:

a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.

b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.

c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)

During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.

And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)

So you can start the next phase.

Middle phase (optional):

To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)

This is all about connection to your DR.

Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:

My name is ___.

I work as a ___.

My age is ___.

Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.

(That's you!)

Phase three:

Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.

a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)

OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)

b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.

❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.

Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)

Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.

(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)

c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)

Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.

And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.

Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?

So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.

And I remember I thought this:

"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."

(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)

And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)

I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.

I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.

So that's it.

Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.

And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.

Ask away.

I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.

#shifting community #reality shifting #shifting motivation #shifting blog #shifting antis dni #shifting #shiftblr #shifters #permashifting #respawning #shifting methods #shifting stories #shifting success

5K notes · View notes

vetyr · 10 months ago

Note

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

#answers to asks #illustration #art advice #art help #drawing #digital art

3K notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 4 months ago

Text

do you believe me now? | 9

in which we find out how the morning after went for fem!reader. you finally share with spencer after unanticipated anxieties come up. you're continually shocked by his affection for you.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ (angst, fluff) warnings/tags: (preface none of the bad stuff is done by spencer) sexual harassment, slut shaming, non consensual voyeurism of sorts, blood + pain from losing virginity, talk of rape (nothing like that actually happens), implied nonspecific age gap (someone says he looks slightly older than you) non sexual nudity, showering together, intimacy, ewww being in love is embarrassing a/n: I honestly was not gonna post this today but I decided to bc it's just Tumblr its not that deep also you can probably tell I am just creating problems bc I don't wanna let go of them...... ik this is supposed to be a smutty series btw and trust good things come to those who wait!!!but anyways idk what I'm doing and I kinda hate this!! lolol!!!

Friday morning

The air is thick when you wake up—the angle of the sun through the window is lower than usual, and the binding weight of your limbs as you struggle to stretch in place all suggest that you’ve slept in.

But you don’t check the time quite yet—for a moment, you simply lie there, studying the pattern on your ceiling, downloading the events of the previous night.

Flashes of skin on skin, lips, breaths, whispers, promises. Phantom sensations.

Was it even real?

Your apartment is deafeningly silent, you realize. And you have that sinking sense, which you can’t quite explain but know to be true—that you are alone. Spencer is gone. You can’t feel him like you’d be able to if he were simply on the couch or in the kitchen. He’s definitely not in bed with you, and the sheets have long gone cold.

The truth of it renders about as slowly as your sluggish consciousness does, and you frown, not quite sure what to do with that information. Should you be angry? Should you cry?

Mostly you’re confused.

As soon as you sit up, sore thighs and abs and a strange ache between your legs confirm that last night was not a dream nor a figment of your imagination. You’ll figure out what to do about your twinging body in a moment—for now you rub your eyes and blindly reach for the bedside table, knocking several things to the ground in your quest for your phone.

It’s not there, you realize, once you actually try to use your eyes. It’s not in bed with you either as you pat the sheets, and it doesn’t materialize as you sit on your knees and shake out the comforter.

From this venture, however, you learn two things. First, Spencer must’ve taken it upon himself to get you dressed last night, which you have no recollection of, but you doubt you sleepwalked your way into underwear and a big t-shirt; and second—you bled.

It wasn’t something you were thinking about in the moment, but now, faced with all the evidence and none of the pleasure of last night’s activities, it’s jarring. A stark, unforgiving archipelago of red on a pristine sea of white.

People say, at its best, sex brings couples closer. Spencer once told you it could facilitate feelings of deeper connection. But here you are, no longer a virgin, and what do you have to show for it? A stronger bond with your boyfriend? He’s not even here.

All you have is this glaring red stain marring perfectly good sheets. It mocks you, like something you’ve dropped and can’t pick back up. You can’t think looking at it, and you need to think, and so in a fit of frustration you’re pulling the comforter onto the floor, leaning over your mattress and yanking the fitted sheet free. You ball it up in your hands, breathing heavily—and realize you bled through to the mattress.

Wonderful.

Spencer’s just at work, you tell yourself, grabbing the first pair of shorts you see and pulling them on before gathering the ruined sheet once more and stomping on aching legs through your apartment to the hallway, not even bothering with shoes. He can’t just play hooky because his clingy girlfriend lost her virginity and needs to be comforted like some previously celibate high school cheerleader.

But you miss him so much it’s making you angry, so much your eyes are stinging and welling with tears of frustration as you shove your bed linens down the trash chute at the end of your floor’s hallway. You’re supposed to be independent. That’s how you’ve always been. Since when does it bother you to wake up alone? It’s just sex. It’s not as big a deal for him as it is for you. Or for anyone. You’re the one overreacting, you’re the one who expects too much. He works for the FBI, for god’s sake. There are people dying, and here you are—

“What’chya got there?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, and you turn around just as the bundle is disappearing down into the hole in the wall. It’s your neighbor, Jerry—the one in the unit right next to you. You’re not happy to see him, especially like this. He’s got a blue 5 o’clock shadow despite the hour, and is clad in ill-fitting gray sweats and a pair of ratty slippers. His distended belly strains at the confines of an oil-stained white shirt, tied with a dingy checkered robe. You barely meet his drooping eyes before looking longingly back at your cracked door down the hall.

“Just… garbage.” You shift your weight, hiding a wince as you try to find a comfortable position to stand in. Jerry notices this, and you wish his eyes wouldn’t linger on your bare legs like that.

“Huh. Looks like someone had a late night.”

“Sorry?”

“It’s just noon and you’re still in your PJ’s.”

Disgusting. And who the fuck is he to judge? At least your pajamas are clean.

You shrug. “Yeah.”

He scratches his bald head.

“So that boy tired you out pretty good, huh?”

Your stomach drops. Your brain freezes.

When you don’t reply, he takes the liberty of continuing on.

“Saw him sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night. He looked a little older ’n you. You like ’em older?” His laugh is a cruel bark. “Yeah… He’s a lucky man. You know, it’s natural for a man to like a younger girl. Fresh meat, ’n all.” You try to speak and can only swallow a gag. Jerry adjusts his stance, hands in pockets like he’s telling you a local news story. “Heard some of it. Sounded like you were putting on quite the show. And sure, a young pretty thing like you? Hell, I would if I could. But I’ll tell you right now, you don’t wanna end up like my daughter. She wasn’t as pretty as you, but still—three kids with three men by the time she was 24. She should'a kept her damn legs closed. You know, she loved to cry rape, but you gotta ask yourself, if your legs are open all the damn time, what do you expect? Back in the day we all knew girls like that—” he bats the air dismissively. “Guess you can’t call ’em sluts anymore—they get what they’re asking for one way or another. See, I think everyone still knows it and they’re just too afraid to say it. So my advice: don’t let yourself get used up, you hear me? Not by men who are gonna ride you hard and put you away wet. So to speak. Men can smell a girl like that from a mile away, and they’ll take it as an open invitation. It’s just human nature.”

When he finally stops talking, the hallway fills with a vacuous silence. It makes your ears ring. Several moments pass, but you’re frozen. Your whole body feels intolerably hot but your blood is freezing. How are you supposed to react?

“Hello?” He says, voice loud enough to hurt your ears as it echoes.

Get out of here, your more rational self says to the rest of you, and you mumble something, you don’t even know what, excusing yourself to hurry on stiff legs back down the hall to your door.

Once inside, you do up every lock on your door, and face your apartment, shoulders tensed practically to your ears and fists clenched so tight your arms are trembling. On autopilot you look around for something to do, but there’s nothing. More importantly, nobody.

I’ll call Spencer. He’ll know what to do.

No, you won’t, your higher self reminds you. You lost your phone. And besides, it’s clearly not like he wanted to stick around last night. Maybe he doesn’t even like you anymore.

So you’re stuck here. Stranded. Sharks can smell blood.

Processing that information, you walk back to your bedroom and close the door behind you—before promptly sinking to the ground and burying your face in the duvet with a deep, silent sob.

That goes on for a few minutes until you realize you’re too achy and you can’t breathe and you’re forced onto your side, curling up in your blanket on the floor like it’s a nest and not a burial plot.

You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. A relationship can’t implode twice in 24 hours. You don’t have your phone. Maybe he’s texted you.

But is that really all you’re worth? A text sent after the fact? He couldn’t sacrifice a few hours to sleep by your side? Couldn’t even wake you up to say goodbye? You think about the sweet things he’d said afterward—the way he held you, fingers dancing down your spine. Promises he made when you were half asleep in his arms, so sure he’d be there when you woke up.

Even fucking Jerry the neighbor—who you think might have just sexually harassed you in the hallway—said Spencer should’ve stuck around.

Fuck.

No, don’t think about that. It doesn’t even matter. They were just words.

Heard some of it. Sounded like you put on quite the show.

Your skin crawls and your stomach turns as you hold yourself tighter. Something that was supposed to be private and special—and some random man not only had a front row seat to your deflowering but felt comfortable talking about it with you. It feels like a violation. Like he crashed a really important party. If you had known you had an audience last night, you never would’ve done it.

The way he looked at you, tracing your legs with his eyes like he was touching you—

You scramble up from the floor and walk heavily on your knees to the dresser, digging up a pair of pajama pants and a hoodie. You should be showering, but you don’t want to deal with your body right now. You just want to hide.

Friday evening—present

After your conversation, Spencer seems eager to make sure the car ride to his apartment is not reminiscent of the car ride to yours last night—he holds your hand, resting in your lap, bringing your knuckles to his lips at a red light. Every few moments he glances over at you, maybe to appreciate the view (though you doubt it’s especially scenic at the moment) or perhaps to gauge your mood. The further away you get from your apartment building the better you feel, and you try to focus on that. Sure—maybe you had a shit day, but Spencer’s here now, and he didn’t leave you after all. In fact, since finding your phone, you’ve seen the series of very sweet and highly concerned messages he sent over the course of a few hours. They almost make your stomach hurt. It would’ve been really nice to have those earlier.

He doesn’t ask you any more of the hard questions, but you sense an inquisition in the works and getting closer with every curious glance he gives you. It’s like he’s unwrapping you, layer by layer, using his impressive cognitive faculties to drill through your skull into your brain and deeper still into your soul.

Back in his apartment you sit awkwardly on the bed. Last time you’d been here, things hadn’t gone so well for you.

The shower starts in the adjoined bathroom, and Spencer comes out a moment later, warm light seeping into the darkened bedroom. Purple and dark blue mixing with yellow, like a bruise.

“Hey. Water’s warm.”

You hum, smoothing the material of his neatly made bed with your palm and watching the way it flattens. That had been your doing. You may have thought he was on the verge of breaking up with you last time you slept here, but you didn’t want to leave his home a mess. Didn’t want to leave any evidence of your having been here.

A moment passes. You thumb at a thread and don’t look up.

Spencer crosses the space without a word and crouches in front of you, hands coming up to cup the back of your legs, running knee to ankle and up again.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Please?” He asks softly. His voice wrings your heart out. Now that you’re in a completely different space, and you’re not so alone anymore, you’re struggling to sort out your feelings. It should be fine. You’re with Spencer. Presumably he still loves you.

And you still feel terrible.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, just as quietly.

Spencer doesn’t say anything else. I know you don’t want to—and yet. Your lips twist to the side. He’s persistent. Even in his kindness. It’s not the kind of care that falters or buckles when you try turning it away.

“My neighbor said he c—”

You’re forced to stop, frowning by how overcome you are. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. Worse things have happened to you.

“He said he could hear us. Last night.”

Spencer’s hands stop on your legs. You can’t meet his eyes. You’re afraid whatever you find there won’t be the right thing.

“He’s in the unit next to you?”

You nod. “We share a wall.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation and your stomach sinks. He doesn’t understand.

“What did he say?”

“Just… dumb shit,” you scoff, fiercely wiping away a stray tear. “He said he listened and it sounded like I was putting on quite the show. And then he—and then he told me not to let you… use me up, whatever that means. He called me fresh meat, and said I shouldn’t let you ride me hard and put me away wet, and bad things happen to sluts who can’t keep their legs closed.”

You finish with a sharp inhale, briefly leaning down and covering your face with your hands when you realize how upset you really are. You want to hide it.

A fraught moment passes. Spencer reaches for your hands, no doubt to try and pull them away from your face. You spare him the trouble, sitting up with a cavalier sniff before he can touch you and brushing your hair behind your ears.

His voice is uncomfortably quiet. You can’t look at him. “Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine. I only told you because you asked.”

It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyway, and so you avoid eye-contact like it’s the plague. Maybe it’s just safe to be mad at him. Maybe he knows that.

Regardless, you’re not in the mood for coddling. It’s borderline repulsive—like trying to mix oil and water. Anything good slides right off of you because maybe you’re not designed to be able to absorb good things.

Nothing changes for a minute—and then he’s standing, offering you a moment alone as he goes to crank the shower off.

As soon as he’s gone all the air is vacuumed from your lungs and you crumple, heaving it back in silently as your head spins and your heart races. It’s like your mind is split in two—half is primal, overwhelming panic, and the other a cold observatory eye, full of disdain and scorn for what it deems a severe overreaction to a few nasty comments made hours ago. You’re so tangled up as you curl in on yourself on your side that you can’t even cry. You’re just trying to remember how to breathe, ignoring the crawling feeling up your spine and the tingling heat at the back of your neck. The shower stops on the downbeat of your staggered breath, and then it’s silent. He’ll come back at any minute and see what a mess you’ve become.

You’ve ruined everything. If only you could’ve kept it to yourself.

When Spencer reappears in the doorway, and sees you collapsed and curling like paper burnt at the edges, he’s quick to return to you.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, trying and failing to brush away hair from your cheek, which is wet—so you were crying—and Spencer shushes you, pushing it away for you as he kneels.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m being dramatic, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Of course, at the end of that declaration, a sob wrenches its way from the depths of you, so bright and cleaving you half expect the smell of ozone to follow. You follow it with a blisteringly self-deprecating laugh.

“Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t minimize it.”

His hand is warm where it rests over your cheek, affectionate, but he sounds frustrated. You frown and sniffle.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Tell me his name.”

It’s a quiet request, made as gently as his hand cards through the hair at your temple like it’s woven with fragile threads of gold.

“No, Spencer,” you beg, anxiety pooling in your gut and rising in your throat, ��please, I don’t want to make it a thing, I don’t want you to talk to him. You’ll just make it worse, it’s fine.”

You look at him imploringly, eyes wide and still welling, hoping to god the gravity of your plead will sink in. His are a bed of coals—somewhere between furious and sympathetic, and you try to appeal to the sympathy.

“It is not fine. Saying sluts get what’s coming to them is not fine, that is a threat, and I’m not going to talk to him. I’m going to have him fucking arrested.”

You scoff.

“For talking to me? Yeah, good luck with that. Cops are really known for being helpful when it comes to sexual harassment.”

“Baby. Men who are comfortable violating your boundaries like that are exponentially more likely to commit an actual violent crime. That is not a safe person for you to be around.”

“He’s not gonna rape me, Spencer! He’s just a gross old man! This is why I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you’d make it a bigger deal than it is! You did it last night and you’re doing it now—you think everyone is out to get me!”

To his credit, he doesn’t so much as raise his voice.

“Of course it’s a big deal. You’re upset.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my own fault.”

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to say. Spencer goes silent for a moment.

“It’s your fault?”

“Yes. It’s my fault because… because now everyone knows that I’m…”

His voice goes impossibly soft again. “Knows that you’re what?”

“I mean, what did I expect?” You sniffle. “It’s an apartment. If I didn’t want to deal with the consequences, I shouldn’t’ve done it.”

He says your name like it’s a ring he twists around his finger as he tries to think—to gather the right words.

“The consequences for having sex do not involve punishment or sexual harassment.”

“It’s the result of my actions, so—”

“No, it’s the result of your neighbor being disgusting. I don’t care what he heard, he doesn’t get to talk to you like that.”

“He—”

“If you heard something you weren’t supposed to hear would you bring it up to the person the next day?”

“Stop interrupting me,” you plead. Spencer looks like he has something to say to that, too, but he swallows it. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I… understand that he shouldn’t have said those things to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he did, and it was really, really uncomfortable and I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna go back now. Maybe that’s dramatic, but…”

You trail off, studying the ceiling as a fresh wash of tears dampen your cheeks. Spencer’s hand slides down your waist as you wipe your face. “I don’t regret the fact that we slept together. I just regret everything that’s happened since, and if I didn’t do it last night, none of this would’ve happened. I feel like he ruined everything.”

The words end on another cry and you put your hand over your eyes like you could stop it all from coming out. You sniffle. Spencer is quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, his own voice threaded with emotion. “I…”

He sighs. You push your hair back and look at him.

“What?”

He studies you, chewing on his lip like a nervous tick you’ve never seen before. You sit up again, feet balanced on the edge of the bed frame. Spencer’s eyes remain stuck on you. Again, you ask, “What?”

“I didn’t think about it until you brought it up earlier, but—I did see someone. Him, I think, when I went out to my car to get my bag. He was smoking when I came out, and when I got back into the lobby he was waiting for the elevator. We took it up together, he—he said something to me, so I know he saw me going back to you. I don’t know why he made it sound like I left.”

You frown. “What did he say?”

Spencer hesitates.

“He asked if I had a long night. He was obviously commenting on the fact that I was basically half-dressed and getting an overnight bag from my car at one in the morning, so he could probably gather from context what was going on, but… my point is, he knew I came back and it seems like he was almost trying to make you think I didn’t. So for whatever reason, maybe he was lying about being able to hear you, too. Maybe he just wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s a long shot, Spencer.”

“I know, but… it’s not that long. He obviously gets off on it—and besides, he said you were putting on a show, but you weren’t… you weren’t loud, last night.”

Heats blossoms in your cheeks and you look down at your lap. “Thin walls.”

“Have you ever heard your neighbors before?”

You have to seriously think about it.

“I’ve heard them yelling…”

“Nothing else?”

Again, you consider it. The answer comes as a surprise.

“No.”

“Okay, so… does that maybe help a little bit? I really, really don’t want you to feel like last night was a mistake in any way, or let anyone ruin it for you.”

You breathe deeply. “I know. It… it kinda helps, yeah.”

His hands come to the top of your legs. There’s so much genuine care and concern in his eyes. “Yeah?”

Only when you nod does he relax some. His hands skim your thighs, and you set yours on top of his own. For a few breaths, it’s quiet. And then you laugh.

“What?” Spencer asks, a tentative smile curling his own lips like he doesn’t know if he should be concerned or participate in your mirth.

“I—I don’t know how to say it without being cheesy,” you admit, sniffling the last of your tears away and smiling softly down at him.

“I think you should say it.”

You link your fingers with his on your lap, watching the way they twine like it’s what they were meant to do.

“I was just thinking about how I had, like, the worst day ever. And how much worse it would’ve gotten if you didn’t show up when you did—I would’ve completely spiraled. But you did show up. And how easy it is to kind of compartmentalize, because I have you, and when I’m with you… nothing feels as hard. You make the bad things feel smaller, I guess.”

By the end, it got a lot more real than you’d intended, and your face feels warm, and your stomach is sort of floaty—but you don’t look away from Spencer. You hold his gaze, though it makes you a little nervous, because you want him to know you mean it.

He inhales, like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t—only looks at you, like you’re beautiful and impossible and a defiance of everything he thought he knew, which was almost everything. To him, you’re expansive. A gorgeous anomaly.

And then he stands, holding his hands out for you. Without question you take them, and he pulls you to your feet, absorbing the momentum that threatens to topple you, and he wraps his arms around you tightly. So tight you have to laugh.

“I love you,” he says against your shoulder, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head.

Your humor softens, but doesn’t become inflexible—still tinges your words with the perfect amount of euphoria and relief. “I love you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, and your laughter flares again.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“But I’m grateful. I… I feel lucky.”

Always so earnest, so vulnerable, when you’re least expecting it—which should be always, you’re learning. You pull back to look up at him. You don’t want that concession to go unrewarded.

“Me too,” you say softly. He’s doing that fond thing with his eyes, where they’re all soft and it’s like he’s trying to take in every millimeter of your face. This time when he goes to touch your hair, you have the wherewithal to dodge it.

“You’re really brave for trying to touch my hair right now.”

“Why?” He asks, utterly bewildered, and the softness of the moment falls away easily, but not without leaving everything smudged and fuzzy around the edges. Everything is still okay. It’s still good.

“Because it’s dirty,” you laugh, dodging him again and eventually ducking from the circle of his arms entirely.

“Oh, your hair is dirty? Should we breakup?”

“Hm. I don’t really like when you take on that tone with me.” You’re still half-laughing, dipping and weaving past him toward the bathroom as he tries to get you in his arms again. And then you stop, toes just short of the tile.

“What is it?” He asks after another moment. You blink, looking at the shower head as it drips.

“Um—would it be okay if I had a five minute headstart in the shower?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. I just… I need a minute.”

His hand skims your waist as he passes by you through the open door. “Okay. Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll get the water going again?”

Soon enough, you’re remembering how much better his water pressure is than yours as you stand under the torrent, eyes closed as if in prayer. You definitely could’ve stood to shower earlier in the day. But you had other concerns, earlier, and besides—you were afraid of what you might find.

And you were right to be. The sex was nice. The aftermath isn’t quite as pretty.

When Spencer taps on the bathroom door, you’re nervous.

“You can come in,” you call.

“You sure? If you want it all to yourself, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

The door creaks open, and gently clicks into place again, and fabric rustles as he undresses, and soon the shower curtain is sliding aside and he’s stepping in. Unsurprisingly, the space feels smaller with him in it—but not small in a bad way. It feels warmer. Again you’re awash in that safe feeling, which you didn’t realize you’d been missing so much today.

“Hi,” he smiles, a teasing sliver of what you know to be the most brilliant light in the world, and stunning like the rest of him as you watch the water begin to darken his hair.

“Hello.”

His smile flickers briefly wider like you’re his favorite thing and he just can’t contain his joy, and then it’s easing again, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

In this alien context the idea has your heart pounding—you don’t really understand the concept of casual nudity yet, but you know he’ll respect your earlier wishes to keep it chaste and so you nod.

Spencer doesn’t take you immediately in his arms like you’d expected—instead his hands find a rest at your collarbones and carefully push your wet hair back over your shoulders—but his eyes aren’t cast quite low enough to be indecent. They connect dots over your chest and neck, and he thumbs at one just over your pulse point.

“Oh, man,” he laughs, and you think you detect a hint of self-deprecation. “That’s… wow, I didn’t realize I… sorry. They don’t hurt, do they?”

It’s your turn to smile as he’s suddenly over-concerned.

“No, they don’t hurt.”

“Good.” He looks relieved, but it doesn’t last as his eyes trace lower—though you don’t sense any hunger in it. He’s just taking you in. “How about everywhere else?”

“Um… it’s not bad. Kind of, like… I don’t know. Sore. But it’s not bad.”

“Still?” He frowns, clearly unfazed by your evident embarrassment on the subject. You shrug and avert your eyes.

“It’s fine. it was worse earlier, so.”

That does not have the calming effect you’d intended.

“Worse? 1-10, how—”

“Spencer, it’s fine, I promise. It’s only when I—when I move certain ways, I notice. Honestly the… blood… was way more disconcerting to me.”

“Yeah, I saw your bed… sorry for ruining your sheets. I’ll buy you new ones.”

You shrug, watching the water run in rivulets down your arm and branch off into tributaries and waterfalls from your fingers. “You don’t have to do that. It was a collaborative effort.”

Normally this conversation would have you melting into an embarrassed puddle, but something about the tile cocoon of the shower, the humid fog, the proximity, feels safe. The white noise of water on porcelain, the warmth. You go to him at the same time as he comes to you—his arms around your waist, yours slung over his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. Falling asleep standing up has never seemed so plausible until now.

He presses a kiss to your head. You sigh.

“Ugh. I don’t want to deal with washing my hair.”

“I can do it,” Spencer immediately offers. You frown.

“I was—you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was asking.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“It’s a process.”

“I understand.”

“You would have to do it exactly how I say.”

“I am willing to learn. I like taking care of you.”

You’re glad for the hot water, then, and as he washes your hair. You’re not sure if you’re crying at the tenderness of his touch, or the way he loves you like you’re easy to love. You’re too tired to explain it.

He doesn’t push you, because he never pushes you.

He just washes your hair.

part ten

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

1K notes · View notes

fangdokja · 12 days ago

Text

You tried to break up with him… but did you ever really want to?

❤︎ Synopsis. You thought walking away from him would set you free, but now you’re trapped in a game of his making, where every step away pulls you closer into his dark web. Breaking up was never an option—he’s already planned your return.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Johan Liebert x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Geto Suguru x Fem. Reader (separate)

♡ Headcanons. Never Really Gone - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 6,342

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + heavy manipulation, sexual themes, fear play, hints of rough play and sex, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, gaslighting, victim blaming, psychological manipulation and conditioning, manipulation of circumstances, white knight strategies

♡ Note. All art on the banner does not belong to me, and belongs to the artists who created the artworks.

♡ A/N. Yes, I wanted to philosophize this time. Been a while, since I wrote something like this. But, actually, before Tumblr and Ao3, I wrote these kinds of works often. Anything in relation to morality, humanity, existential questions, and more. It's fun.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer whose philosophy is rooted in the idea that nothing is truly unattainable. He grew up in a world where survival was an art, and morality was an illusion crafted by the powerful to control the weak. To Chrollo, freedom isn’t about doing what you want—it’s about taking what you desire, consequences be damned.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who applies this philosophy to you with a terrifying elegance. He doesn’t love you like a man loves a woman; he loves you like a collector loves a rare artifact. You are a piece of perfection he wants to study, admire, and ultimately keep under lock and key. His love is subtle, almost suffocating in its gentleness. He doesn’t need to raise his voice or make threats; his words are calculated to burrow into your mind and make you second-guess your every thought.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who uses your intelligence as a hook, weaving conversations so deep and enthralling that you forget he’s untangling every thread of your mind. He is endlessly patient, unraveling your independence slowly, methodically, until you reach a point where you don’t know where you end and he begins.

In your relationship, Chrollo is attentive but detached, like a scientist studying a delicate experiment. He knows when to praise you, when to pull back, and when to remind you of just how much you need him. He never forces his will outright; instead, he leaves breadcrumbs, ensuring that every choice you make feels like your own—when in truth, he’s orchestrated it all.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert whose philosophy is a chilling combination of nihilism and superiority. He sees the world as a fragile construct, its meaninglessness a playground for his manipulation. To Johan, people are tools, and love is the ultimate form of control—an emotion that binds people tighter than fear or violence ever could.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who views you as an exception to his usual detachment. Your quiet demeanor and sharp mind fascinate him in a way he can’t quite explain. You’re not like the rest of the world—mindless, hollow, and easily disposable. You’re a puzzle he wants to solve, a light he wants to snuff out and relight just to see how it flickers.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who expresses his love with an eerie calmness. He doesn’t smother you with affection or demand anything from you; instead, he quietly infiltrates your life. He learns everything about you—your fears, your dreams, your weaknesses—and uses that knowledge to become indispensable. He convinces you that he’s the only one who truly understands you, the only one who can keep you safe in a world that’s out to destroy you.

In your relationship, Johan is a paradox. He’s gentle, considerate, and impossibly kind, but there’s an undercurrent of control in everything he does. He’ll encourage your independence on the surface while quietly sabotaging any attempt to leave him. He’s the type to smile and say, “I’ll wait for you,” even as he ensures that no one else ever gets close enough to take his place. To Johan, love is about possession, and possession is eternal.

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru whose philosophy is steeped in a twisted sense of superiority and duty. He believes that the strong have an obligation to protect the weak, but only those who are worthy. His disillusionment with humanity has left him with a stark view of the world—most people are parasites, unworthy of existence. But you? You’re different.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who sees you as a rare exception to his disdain. Your quiet intellect and detached nature resonate with him, a kind of purity he thought had been lost to the world. You’re not a parasite; you’re a treasure, someone who needs protection—not from the world, but from yourself.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who loves you with an intensity that’s almost reverent. He admires your mind, your resilience, but he also sees your fragility, and it terrifies him. He doesn’t want you to break under the weight of the world, so he takes it upon himself to shield you, even if that means isolating you from everything and everyone else.

In your relationship, Geto is controlling but not overtly so. He frames his actions as concern, his possessiveness as devotion. He doesn’t raise his voice or demand obedience; instead, he calmly explains why his way is the best for you. He creates a world where you feel safe and cared for, even as he slowly strips away your autonomy.

To Geto, love is a responsibility, a sacred bond that justifies any action. He doesn’t see himself as manipulative or cruel; he genuinely believes that what he’s doing is for your own good. And even if you hate him for it, he’ll accept that—because your hatred is still a form of connection, and he’ll take anything you’re willing to give.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who was drawn to you the moment he noticed the sharpness in your eyes. You had a mind that cut through deception like a blade, a presence that remained unshaken even under scrutiny. You never sought validation, nor did you waver under pressure—you existed on your own terms, and that made you utterly fascinating to him.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who admired your strength but saw it as something that could be refined, polished into something even greater. And who better to be your guide than him? His involvement in your life was never forceful, never imposing. It was patient, meticulous. A thoughtful conversation here, a well-placed question there. “You’re remarkable,” he’d muse, studying you with a gaze that saw too much. “But do you ever wonder if you’re carrying too much alone?”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who never took anything from you—rather, he gave. Insight, solutions, a sense of ease. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you began to turn to him. Not because you had to, but because he always seemed to have the answers, the right words at the right time. A reassuring presence in the background of your life, always available, always understanding.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who never demanded your dependence, yet it became inevitable. He never corrected you outright, only offered perspectives that made you rethink your choices. “I trust you, of course,” he’d say, a gentle lilt in his voice. “But sometimes, even the most brilliant minds need a second opinion.” And over time, you found yourself hesitating before decisions, waiting—expecting—his input.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer whose love felt like a safety net you didn’t realize you needed. By the time you noticed how much of yourself had subtly reshaped around him, it no longer felt like change—it felt like growth. A natural evolution, one where he was woven into the fabric of your existence. And that was all he had ever needed.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who recognized something rare in you the first time he met you. Not just intelligence, but an elegance in how you carried yourself. A quiet depth, the kind most people overlooked. You weren’t swayed by charm or intimidation; you existed in your own world, untouched by the trivialities that consumed others. And that made you irresistible to him.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who never sought to change you—no, that would be crude. Instead, he aligned himself so seamlessly with you that his presence felt like an inevitability. He listened with an attentiveness that made you feel understood in a way few ever had. “You’re extraordinary,�� he’d say softly, his admiration never loud, never overwhelming. Just a simple truth, spoken like a secret only he was privy to.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who became your quiet refuge, the person who knew exactly how to soothe the weight on your shoulders. He never told you that you needed him, never implied that you were weaker alone. But somehow, in moments of uncertainty, his words would surface in your mind. “You overthink things sometimes,” he’d once told you with an affectionate smile. “You don’t have to bear it all alone.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert whose influence never felt like pressure, only gentle guidance. He never dismissed your thoughts, only reframed them. “You’re brilliant, but even the most brilliant minds falter under unnecessary burdens.” His words never undermined, never dictated. Yet they lingered, shifting the way you perceived yourself, the way you navigated your own decisions.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who, without ever asking for it, became the foundation you leaned on. And by the time you realized how deeply his presence had integrated into your life, it felt too natural, too comforting to pull away. After all, what was so wrong about relying on someone who had only ever wanted the best for you?

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who was intrigued by you from the start. A woman who stood with unwavering confidence, who carried an unspoken wisdom in her gaze. You weren’t someone easily impressed, nor did you seek approval from others. You knew your own worth, and that fascinated him.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who never sought to diminish your strength, only to ensure it was preserved. “You’re exceptional,” he’d tell you, watching the way you dismissed the weight of his words. “But strength isn’t just about standing alone. It’s about knowing when to let someone stand beside you.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru whose care never felt like control. If anything, he encouraged your independence—praised it, even. But beneath that praise was something else, a quiet implication that true strength was knowing when to yield. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he’d remind you, his voice soft but firm. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who never outright questioned your choices but always offered an alternative. “I trust you,” he’d say with a smile, never condescending, never doubtful. “But have you considered another perspective?” And it was never an argument, never a dismissal—just enough to make you pause, to make you wonder if your certainty was truly your own.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who, with time, became the voice in your head, the presence you unconsciously sought out before making a move. Not because he had ever demanded it, but because he had gently guided you to a place where his insight felt indispensable. Where, without even realizing it, you had come to need him just as much as he had always needed you.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who made his love feel like a sanctuary, a safe place to rest. And in the end, you never saw it as dependence—you saw it as trust. A quiet, unshakable trust that tethered you to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain, yet never wanted to escape.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who folds his hands neatly on the table as you tell him, your voice unsteady, that you think the relationship needs to end. He listens without interrupting, his expression as serene as ever, the faintest trace of curiosity in his eyes.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who tilts his head slightly, the movement so slight it’s almost imperceptible. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he says, his tone warm and understanding. “I can see how difficult this is for you.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who doesn’t argue or plead, instead leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “If you feel this is best for you, I won’t stop you,” he says, his voice measured and calm. “But I do wonder…” He pauses, just long enough to make you glance at him. “Is this truly what you want? Or are you running from something you don’t fully understand yet?”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who lets his words linger in the air, unchallenging yet heavy, like the weight of a velvet curtain falling over the conversation. “Regardless,” he continues, “I respect your decision. You’ve always been someone who values their independence.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who, as he pays the bill and walks you to the door, doesn’t make a single misstep. His movements are fluid, his smile genuine. “Take care of yourself,” he says softly. “I only want what’s best for you.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who watches you walk away, his expression neutral, almost unreadable. There’s nothing overt, nothing dramatic, just a quiet shift in his gaze that feels like a shadow passing over the sun.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who sets down his coffee cup with a soft clink when you tell him, in a trembling voice, that you need to end things. His expression doesn’t change—calm, patient, as though he’s hearing something inevitable.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he listens to you. “You feel like you’ve lost yourself,” he repeats, his tone thoughtful. “That must have been so difficult to admit.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who doesn’t try to dissuade you, doesn’t argue or press for answers. Instead, he nods slowly. “If leaving is what will make you happy, I won’t stop you,” he says gently, his words carefully chosen, as though he’s weighing each one before speaking.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who lets the conversation drift into silence, his gaze soft yet focused. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he says after a moment. “And if you ever need anything—anything at all—I’ll always be here for you.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who watches you stand and gather your things, his smile faint but sincere. “You’ve always been strong,” he murmurs as you hesitate at the door. “Even now.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who remains seated long after you’ve left, his expression unchanged. There’s no visible reaction, no sign of distress—only the quiet stillness of someone who never truly lets go.

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who sets aside his tea with a quiet sigh when you tell him, in a shaky voice, that you want to break up. He leans back slightly, his dark eyes thoughtful as he processes your words.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who gives you his full attention, his brows furrowing slightly in concern but not disbelief. “I see,” he says softly. “You’ve been feeling this way for a while, haven’t you?”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who nods slowly as you explain, his expression calm but attentive. “You don’t feel like yourself anymore,” he repeats, his tone careful and deliberate. “That’s not something I ever wanted for you.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who leans forward, his elbows resting on the table as he regards you with a quiet intensity. “If this is what you need,” he says, his voice low and steady, “then I won’t hold you back. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s without me.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who stands as you gather your things, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’ve always been someone who knows their own mind,” he says, his voice almost wistful. “I admire that about you.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who watches you leave, his posture relaxed but his gaze lingering on the door long after it’s closed. He doesn’t move for a long time, his expression serene, though there’s an almost imperceptible tightness in his jaw—a subtle crack in the façade.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who, after the breakup, doesn’t chase after you. He respects your decision—or so it seems. He remains polite, understanding, and almost distant, as if he’s already moved on.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who reaches out with carefully calculated timing, sending you little notes or messages that seem innocent. “You left your favorite book at my place. Should I drop it off, or would you prefer I mail it?” A reasonable question, but the reminder of how well he knows you lingers in your mind.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who subtly plants seeds of doubt without ever making it obvious. He’s a ghost in your life, popping up in conversations with mutual acquaintances, always painted in a positive light. “Chrollo’s been so generous lately; he helped fund a library downtown.” His altruism makes you wonder if you misunderstood him.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who manipulates circumstances so that you start to feel isolated without realizing it. A lost job opportunity here, a canceled appointment there—small inconveniences that seem coincidental but slowly erode your confidence.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who remains patient and kind when you reach out to him in moments of weakness. “I’m here for you, no matter what,” he says, his voice soft and reassuring. “You don’t have to do this alone.” It feels genuine, but his subtle inflection reminds you of how much easier life felt when he was by your side.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who ensures that you remember the best moments of your time together. A framed photo he “forgot” to return, a familiar scent in a letter—it’s never blatant, just enough to make you second-guess whether leaving him was truly the right choice.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who remains composed and graceful post-breakup, never pushing boundaries or demanding your attention. He doesn’t reach out directly, but his presence feels inescapable.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who ensures you hear about him through others—always in glowing terms. “Johan organized a fundraiser for the children’s hospital. He’s such a kind soul.” The stories make you question how someone so compassionate could have ever harmed you.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who plants doubts in your mind with precision. A single comment during a chance encounter: “You seem tired. Are you sleeping well?” It’s not accusatory, but the implication lingers, making you wonder if you’re truly okay on your own.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who subtly orchestrates situations where you feel overwhelmed and vulnerable. A sudden financial setback, an unexpected confrontation at work—problems that only seem to resolve themselves when he’s tangentially involved.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who appears at just the right moments, offering support that feels both coincidental and inevitable. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but I noticed you were struggling. Let me help.” His calm demeanor makes refusing him feel illogical, almost cruel.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who always speaks to you with warmth and understanding, his words like a balm to your insecurities. “You’ve always been strong,” he says softly, “but even the strongest people need someone to lean on.” His sincerity feels unshakable, even as his influence quietly tightens around you.

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who doesn’t fight the breakup, respecting your decision outwardly. He gives you space, never contacting you directly—yet his presence feels as steady as ever, a quiet force lingering just out of reach.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who subtly ensures that you notice his absence in your life. His knowledge of your routines allows him to step back at critical moments, leaving a void that feels unnervingly hollow.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who uses logic as his weapon, planting subtle doubts with precision. A chance meeting at the grocery store leads to a calm, reasoned conversation. “You’ve always been independent,” he says casually, “but it’s not weakness to need someone, you know.” His tone is gentle, unassuming, but his words stay with you.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who doesn’t sabotage you outright but instead carefully positions himself as the only stable constant in your life. When other relationships falter or opportunities slip through your fingers, he’s always there, offering quiet, unwavering support.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguruu who uses your own logic against you. “I understand why you left,” he tells you in a rare moment of vulnerability. “But I wonder if you’ve thought about what you really need. What makes you happy?” His words are measured, reasonable, and devastatingly effective.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who never pushes too hard, his manipulation so subtle it feels like guidance. His calm demeanor and thoughtful advice make you question whether he’s truly the villain in your story—or if you’ve misjudged him entirely.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who waits patiently, never rushing, as the cracks in your resolve begin to show. He continues to be the steady, reliable presence in your life, always there when you falter but never overtly pushing.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who uses your love for independence as the final thread to weave you back to him. He leaves an innocuous invitation one evening: a handwritten note left in your mailbox. “There’s something I think you’d find interesting,” it reads. “Come if you’re curious. No pressure.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who takes you to a quiet library hidden deep in the city, its dimly lit shelves lined with rare, obscure texts—exactly the kind of place that would ignite your curiosity. He shows you something you’ve never seen before: a book you’ve spent years searching for, one you’d nearly given up hope of ever finding.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who smiles softly as he places the book in your hands, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t let you miss out on this,” he says. “It’s too perfect for you. It belongs with you.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who, as you flip through the pages with trembling hands, adds, “There are more like this. Rare treasures, hidden away. I’ve already started gathering them for you. No one else would understand their value the way you do.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who, with his calm voice and unwavering gaze, ensures you feel that only he could ever truly see you, that his presence in your life is not control but a partnership you’d be foolish to walk away from.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who never pressures you, never raises his voice, and never crosses a line—his demeanor as gentle and perfect as it’s always been. He remains at the edge of your life, always watching but never intervening overtly.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who appears on your doorstep one rainy evening, his expression calm but his eyes soft with concern. In his hand is an envelope. “I wasn’t sure if I should show you this,” he says quietly, “but I couldn’t bear to keep it from you.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who hands you a collection of documents—letters, reports, and photographs that seem to detail a series of coordinated misfortunes in your life. The lost job, the failed opportunities, the strange tensions with old friends—all traced back to a third party whose name you don’t recognize.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who lets you pore over the evidence in silence, his presence steady but non-intrusive. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he finally says, his voice low and steady. “But I’ve been keeping an eye on it. Whoever it is—they’ve been trying to isolate you. I’ve done my best to protect you, but...”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who watches as the realization dawns on you: the world is far more dangerous than you thought, and you are far more vulnerable than you ever realized. His timing is perfect—just as your walls are crumbling, he positions himself as your only sanctuary.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who places a hand on yours, his touch warm and steady. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he says. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who lets you spiral on your own, his involvement so subtle you don’t even realize how carefully he’s guiding you back to him. He never imposes, only steps in when absolutely necessary, his calm presence soothing your growing unease.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who, one evening, reaches out with a cryptic message: “I found something that might interest you. Thought I’d share it with you before anyone else.” Attached is a link to a seemingly unrelated incident—a local scandal, a breach in security at a place you once frequented.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who meets you in a quiet café to discuss it, his tone as calm and logical as always. “It’s strange, isn’t it? The way things have been unraveling around you.” His words are measured, his expression thoughtful, as though he’s piecing together a puzzle.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who, after weeks of planting subtle hints, reveals his “final discovery”—a detailed explanation of how vulnerable you’ve become without him. He shows you the ways the world has already begun to erode your security, pointing out how reliant you’ve unknowingly been on his guidance all along.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who leans back in his chair, his eyes calm but piercing. “I never wanted to burden you with this,” he says softly, “but I’ve been handling it for you. Keeping you safe. If you’d rather face it alone, I’ll respect that. But... I hope you’ll let me help you, as I always have.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who knows exactly when to pull back, leaving the choice in your hands—but ensuring that the only logical answer is to stay with him.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who doesn’t pressure you after helping you with the book and other rare treasures. Instead, he gives you time to process, staying polite and distant as though respecting your boundaries.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who contacts you weeks later with a calm, measured voice. “I just wanted to check in. You seemed troubled last time we spoke. I hope I didn’t overstep by helping you.” His tone is apologetic but faintly accusatory, planting the idea that you’ve been ungrateful for his efforts.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who listens carefully as you stumble through your words, his quiet sigh barely audible over the line. “I understand,” he says softly, “but it’s disheartening, you know. I’ve always supported you, even when you pushed me away. I thought we were a team.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who turns the conversation into a reflection of your supposed failings. “I never wanted you to feel weak or helpless,” he says, his voice laced with disappointment. “If anything, I was trying to help you see your potential. Was that really so wrong of me?”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who subtly reframes every moment of doubt you’ve ever had as evidence that you need him. “I saw how hard you were struggling,” he murmurs. “You didn’t see it, but I did. I thought... I thought you trusted me enough to let me help.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who lets silence hang in the air, his tone calm but weighted when he finally speaks again. “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should’ve let you fall instead of trying to catch you. Would that have been better?” His logic is irrefutable, his manipulation so subtle that it feels like an honest conversation.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who ends the call with a resigned but loving note: “I’ll respect your decision, but know this—I only ever wanted what was best for you. I hope, one day, you’ll see that.” The guilt lingers long after the conversation ends, pulling you back toward him.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who doesn’t push after revealing the evidence of your supposed “stalker.” He lets you sit with the knowledge, never bringing it up again unless you do.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who runs into you by chance at a quiet café. He smiles softly, his demeanor as kind and understanding as always. “You look well,” he says warmly, but there’s a hint of concern in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who, when you thank him for helping you, brushes it off with a graceful wave of his hand. “I only did what anyone would’ve done,” he says. “But it’s good to see you taking control of your life again. I was worried about you for a while.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who, over the course of the conversation, gently reminds you of all the ways you’ve struggled since leaving him. “It’s not your fault,” he assures you, his voice soft and soothing. “You were trying to be strong, but the world isn’t always kind to people like you—people who see things differently.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who subtly blames you for your insecurities without ever making it obvious. “You’ve always been so brilliant,” he says, “but sometimes you get lost in your own mind. That’s why I stayed—I wanted to ground you, to help you focus on what really matters.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who smiles sadly when you start to falter. “I know I’m not perfect,” he admits, his tone tinged with regret. “But I’ve always believed in you, even when you didn’t believe in yourself. That’s why it hurt so much when you left—it felt like you didn’t trust me anymore.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who leaves you with a parting comment that stays with you long after he’s gone: “You’re strong, but strength doesn’t mean pushing everyone away. I hope you’ll remember that.”

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who remains calm and composed after showing you how vulnerable you’ve become. He doesn’t push or pry, allowing you to come to your own conclusions—or so it seems.

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who waits until you reach out to him, his voice steady and reassuring when you speak. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says sincerely. “I was worried you might’ve felt overwhelmed after everything I told you.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who never raises his voice or shows frustration. Instead, he uses reason to guide you back to him. “You’ve always been so determined to stand on your own,” he says, his tone thoughtful. “But sometimes, it’s okay to admit when you need help. It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you human.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who subtly reframes the breakup as a mistake on your part. “I didn’t want to say this before, but when you left, I was... worried about you. You’re so capable, but the world isn’t always fair. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t lose yourself.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who carefully plants the idea that you were at fault for how things ended. “Maybe I was too involved,” he says, his voice tinged with regret. “But I only wanted what was best for you. If that came across as controlling, then... maybe I need to rethink how I approach things.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who gives you just enough space to doubt your own decisions. “I never wanted to take anything away from you,” he says softly. “I wanted to help you build something better. But maybe I failed in showing you that.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who ends the conversation with a quiet, almost resigned comment: “Whatever you decide, just know that I’ll always be here for you. I can’t promise I’ll stop worrying, but I’ll try to respect your wishes.” His logic, his kindness, and his subtle manipulations leave you questioning whether you ever truly understood him—or yourself.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who watches you crumble before him, your voice thick with regret, your hands trembling as you reach for him. He doesn’t stop you. Instead, he lets you grasp at his coat, his touch featherlight as he brushes away the tears staining your cheeks. “No, my love,” he murmurs, his voice velvet-smooth. “You were simply lost. But now you’re here, where you belong.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who holds you that night, his body heat wrapping around you like a silken cage. His lips trace the slope of your neck, his breath a whisper of devotion. His fingers skim the ridges of your spine, languid and patient, memorizing every inch of your body. “I would forgive you a thousand times,” he breathes, “as long as you never leave me again.”

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who makes love to you as if he’s weaving scripture into your skin, each touch deliberate, each thrust a vow. His hands map your body with a reverence that borders on obsession, his lips branding you with soft, lingering kisses. And yet, there’s an edge beneath his tenderness—a silent warning in the way his nails dig just a little too deep, the way he marks your throat with his teeth.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer whose dark gaze never wavers as he cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His voice is soft, almost hypnotic. “Say it,” he coaxes, rolling his hips with slow, devastating precision. “Tell me who you belong to.” When you moan his name, it’s a prayer he drinks in greedily, his smile both serene and possessive.

♡ Yandere! Chrollo Lucilfer who strokes your hair afterward, his lips grazing your temple as you succumb to exhaustion. His voice is barely audible, a lullaby meant for your ears alone. “Even if you left me again, I would always find you.” And though his words should unnerve you, the weight of his arms around you is far too comforting to resist.

———

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who cups your face in his hands as you break apart before him, your apology spilling from your lips in frantic sobs. He hushes you gently, his thumbs smoothing over your damp skin, his eyes filled with something you can’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to apologize,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d realize, sooner or later, that I was only protecting you.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who takes his time with you that night, his touch languid and knowing, as though he’s unraveling you piece by piece. He kisses down your spine, savoring every shudder, every hitched breath. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands molding to your hips, holding you in place as he takes what is his.

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who moves with slow, intoxicating precision, drawing out every whimper, every moan until you’re trembling beneath him. His grip tightens, his control absolute, and yet his voice remains unbearably gentle. “You were made for me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “No one else will ever know you the way I do.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert whose every touch is a calculated act of devotion, his movements measured, each moment orchestrated to ensure you never forget the way he makes you feel. His lips curl into a soft smile when you cling to him, your breathless cries spilling into his skin. “That’s right,” he purrs. “Stay with me. Just like this.”

♡ Yandere! Johan Liebert who traces lazy circles against your bare shoulder as you lay entwined in the aftermath. His voice is almost absentminded, laced with quiet amusement. “It’s fascinating,” he muses, “how easily you let me shape you. But that’s all right—you don’t need to think about that.”

———

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who watches you with quiet patience as you stammer through your apologies, his fingers threading through yours as if to ground you. He tilts his head, his gaze unreadable. “You don’t need to explain,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “I always knew you’d come back to me.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who handles you with deceptive gentleness that night, his touches reverent, his kisses lingering. And yet, there’s no mistaking the quiet command in his movements, the way he holds you against him as if daring you to slip away. “You’re mine,” he murmurs into your skin, his teeth scraping over your pulse. “You always have been.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who takes his time breaking you down, his pace unhurried yet devastating, his hands keeping you right where he wants you. His voice is low, soothing, as he whispers against your ear. “You don’t have to think anymore,” he coaxes, his fingers threading through your hair, his grip just firm enough to remind you of his strength. “Just let me take care of everything.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who leaves traces of himself all over you—bruises shaped like fingerprints, love bites blooming across your skin like evidence of his devotion. His lips brush against your temple, his voice a promise disguised as a lullaby. “You’ll never need anyone else,” he murmurs. “Not when you have me.”

♡ Yandere! Geto Suguru who holds you close as you drift into unconsciousness, his fingers idly tracing patterns over your spine. His voice is barely more than a breath, a thought he speaks into the darkness. “Even if you wanted to leave, I’d never let you.” He pauses, his lips curving against your skin. “But you won’t, will you?”

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

598 notes · View notes

luvvyouforever · 10 months ago

Text

harvey (sdv) - nsfw alphabet <3

-> there is not nearly enough harvey content on tumblr for my liking. SO two harvey posts in a row, yes i do believe. and i do love reading an sfw/nsfw alphabet so of course i have to provide for our favorite nerdy doctor <3 i also want you to know that as i write this, i imagine harvey as a taller, bigger man. so like he's got some chub on him and he's got broad shoulders. idk idk it's my headcanon.

-> this is nsfw and dirty! like i really tried to get over my reservations about using descriptive language. with that being said, NSFW 18+ MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

harvey is the sweetest, most gentlemanly partner after sex. he makes sure that you get cleaned up, that you protect yourself against any UTIs or other gross things, makes you some coffee or tea, and cuddles with you endlessly. harvey would need some extra reassurance that what he did was good, that you enjoyed it, or that you didn't get hurt. he'd get anxious and worry about it for the rest of the night if you didn't offer him some kind of honest discussion.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think he appreciates his arms and hands! he knows that he has some strength and likes when you can grip on to his biceps in the heat of the moment. knows how to work his hands i mean, come on. he can do minor surgical interventions. if you hold onto his arm while you're walking in town, he'd get all blushy.

as for you, he truthfully loves every part of you. if you ever asked him "what part of me is your favorite?" he would actually stress over it and couldn't answer. however, if you really really wanted him to say, he would choose your eyes. there's nothing better to him than looking at them when he's giving you pleasure. sends him reeling, actually.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i don't think harvey is particularly keen on making a mess, especially of the bed or another surface. he'd try to keep his cum inside of you, or at least contained to an easily wipeable surface (like your face). on the down low though, i truthfully think he'd surprisingly enjoy cumming on your face, mainly around your lips. messy oral? he's done for.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

meeting dr. harvey in his office for a confidential check-up? hmm. definitely not when you first start dating, but give him some time and you may just find yourself on his desk (never in the actual, sterile field) receiving a little extra attention wink wink nudge nudge

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he has plenty of knowledge about anatomy, trust me. he never struggles with finding your best spots. however, he struggles with foreplay and building intimacy and dirty talk, etc. he's a nerd! what can i say? tell him what you like, guide him, and help him and he'd be confident in no time. he's a quick learner.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

so, i think there are two sides to harvey. he is either incredible slow, passionate, and earnest. this lends itself to something simple like missionary where he can stare into your eyes, kiss you, tell you sweet things, etc. his other side comes out later, when he's gotten more comfortable with you and with himself, and he can get a little rougher or faster or intense. he likes to be able to grip on to you so something like doggy, maybe riding?

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

harvey can't help but be clumsy sometimes. he learns to be able to giggle at himself when his hand misses the bed and he falls. he also can't help but giggle when hair gets caught in your mouth or some other silly thing. however, he likes to keep things intimate and prefers to have a serious moment with you in bed.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i don't think he fully shaves, he just doesn't strike me as that kinda guy with his mustache. but i do think he trims it, kinda manscapes it a little bit to tame everything down but he likes to have a little hair down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

loves making sex romantic. he doesn't do it often, but on special days like your anniversary or birthday, he will harvest some flowers from the farm and throw the petals around the room, open up some freshly made wine, and showers you in affection. as for every day sex, he still likes to make it special for you and never backs down on his pure, teeth-hurting sweetness.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think that he is the kinda guy that starts feeling guilty for masturbating after he gets into a relationship. prefers to just wait for you. however, before your relationship, he would masturbate every once in a while when he was stressed or horny. if he ever watched porn, which i feel like would be very rare for him, he wouldn't watch highly produced, fake porn. it would have to be something amateur. (harvey has a secret twitter account)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

okay so...i think harvey starts out vanilla. when you're getting to know him and for the first few times you have sex, he keeps it simple. mainly out of nervousness. however, i think he's kinkier than we might assume. i think he really enjoys being praised and praising you. i think, too, he likes feeling big and strong in that he gives in to his possessiveness sometimes, and he likes being able to manhandle you a little bit. also, i propose this everyone....bondage? nothing super strong! just with his tie or belt. and your hands. to the headboard.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom, mostly! he has a reputation that he needs to uphold so anything in public is nerve wracking. but with some convincing, like i said, his fancy office is not totally off limits.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you do anything! especially if you're really determined to get something done and you're working hard at it! like, you've been working so damn hard on renovating and cleaning the farm and you come back proud of everything you've done, he will look at you with a glow in his face. kisses on the neck, too!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever hurt you. it's just not something he could ever see himself doing. he doesn't mind seeing like fingertip marks on you the day after but anything like choking, spanking, etc is out of the question. he also would find rudeness a turn off in a person. like he would hate to see anyone be rude to another person and it would take away from someone's attractiveness immediately! (that's not to say that he doesn't enjoy some town gossip here and there)

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

my first headcanon here is that harvey LOVES giving oral and on the days when he hasn't cleanly shaved his face, his stubble leaves marks around your thighs. okay, now that that's out of the way: harvey is such a pleaser and he'd do anything to make sure you feel good. he likes when you guide his head, mouth, or hands and he likes being told if you want more, or faster, or less. as for him receiving, i think he enjoys it but he gets so in his head that he can't really cum from it. it takes some extra praise and reassurance to get him to fully open up.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like every other answer here, it depends on his mood! he can get really fast when he's feeling extra needy or kinky. however, when he's trying to be romantic, he will take his sweet time and go nice and slow with his thrusts, movements, touches. however, i think he could also use slowness to his advantage and tease you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

prefers to take his time but sometimes he likes to catch you before you wake up and start working on the farm and before he has to go to work. he enjoys these more than he will admit to himself though and he thinks it can be fun!!

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's down to try new things, don't get me wrong! if you wanna try something new, he'll let you to an extent but he won't do anything that comes with a dangerous outcome or health risk! like, sure, he might be down to try some new rope positions but he won't dare put chocolate sauce around his genitals. do you know the bacteria risks that can come with that??

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i don't think he has very high stamina. it's not that he gets really sleepy after, but he can't go for multiple rounds. maybe two if it's been a long time since he's seen you. he can last a while though, i think. he won't cum the minute he engages in anything and with his anxiety, it may even take him a while to get to that point.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn't mind bringing out a vibrator because he knows how good it could make you feel. he doesn't like them on himself though! he doesn't mind taking a trip out to zuzu and hitting up a sex shop to buy some new bondage-y toys. they will be thoroughly cleaned though. why would nipple clamps be any less clean than forceps?

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn't do it with malice in his heart, trust me. he just likes seeing you on edge, waiting for him of all people, begging for more pleasure. he experiments to see how long you can go for, or how far he can drag out oral. he definitely enjoys it more than he'd let on. oh, and, i leave you with this, imagine harvey offering fake pity and cooing at you:

"my poor flower...you must want it so bad!"

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

keeps quiet, mostly. some interjections of grunts and groans, especially when he cums. he uses his voice more for sweet talk! he loves hearing your noises, though, and it gives him more encouragement than anything.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

the first time you called him dr. harvey in a joking, yet somewhat flirtatious manner, he blushed and got incredibly flustered. then, you did it again, and it had the same effect. and then...oh lord. your hands were roaming his body and you, just testing the waters, called him dr. harvey and he could have finished right there.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's big guys, i'm sorry. nerdy white men are always packing. i headcanon him as a big boy and it's only fitting that he's proportionate. more thickness than length. he was a little ashamed the first time you had sex but he realized just how good it feels and it makes him proud. big dick energy if you will.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think he has a fluctuating sex drive. during flu and cold season, he is so stressed and likes to come back and make dinner, cuddle, and go to bed. however, during the summer, when everyone is healthy and only needs some aloe vera gel for sunburns, he could go day after day with you. it just all depends on his mood and the time of the year.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he enjoys cuddling and talking after sex but give him an hour and the man is CONKED. he's the older bachelor so of course he's a sleepy man. cuddle up to his chest, open up the window to let fresh air or the sounds of rain float in, and he'll be like a baby.

#fanfic #fluff #harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #harvey one shot #harvey #milh (man i love harvey)#alphabet #headcanon #harvey headcanon #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley headcanon

1K notes · View notes

baddywronglegs · 4 months ago

Note

I'm just..... So curious

Do you like introduce yourself as "the walrus/fairy guy" in real life ? Did you put it on your resume ? In what context have people you meet learned that about you ? How the hell does it come up in real life conversation???

It turns out if you hang out almost exclusively with neurodivergent queers your broader social circle has a statistically anomalous concentration of people who were on Tumblr in February 2024.

I have a lot of IRL friends who are on Tumblr who delight in bringing up the walrus/fairy question in company of people I haven't met before, listening to them explain passionately why of course the correct answer was walrus, what the actual fuck is wrong with the creator of the poll thinking fairy was even a reasonable answer, then dropping on them that the person quietly squirming in the corner might have something to do with it.

Particularly Fun in the first month or so when people I knew would bring up in conversation "this thought experiment I saw on Twitter/Instagram/LinkedIn or whatever" and someone tell them "Hey, do you know who Baddy Wrong Legs is?" and just unveil me like a cringing pudding under a tureen.

... Yeah that month where opening the internet to find half of Tumblr banging on my window going "Don't you believe in fairies?" like that Junji Ito comic isn't a thing I tend to open conversations with.

#walrus vs fairy #fairy vs walrus

492 notes · View notes

neroushalvaus · 1 year ago

Text

Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.

Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly – But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.

So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:

Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.

Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.

Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.

Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:

It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.

It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.

The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.

Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.

These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!

#phew. maybe that's enough salt for one day.#james somerton #hbomberguy #todd in the shadows #edit:// embarrassingly many mistakes in the original post. in my defence i have a fever and english isn't my first language. forgive me #edit2:// made the text bigger!

2K notes · View notes

nostalgebraist · 2 years ago

Text

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

#nostalgebraist autoresponder meta

5K notes · View notes

steviewashere · 5 months ago

Text

I want to write something sort of meta, hear me out on it. Sorry, if this hits too close to home. The idea came to me and I needed to get it out of my system. And...would you look at that, another half-written fic.

Steve ends up getting really into Star Wars after Dustin shows him to it. Like, so much that he gets himself involved with conventions, cosplay, collecting anything and everything he can. He's involved in a fandom space. Learns the world of fan fiction. And let's say that maybe, during his time figuring out where he wants to go with life, he picks up writing fanfic as a hobby.

It encourages him to get an English degree. Encourages him to lean more into that hobby, but then expanding upon it to write original short stories and small novels that go published. But he holds strong to Star Wars and fandom and finding his spot cemented in it. He's been a fan for...nearly forty years at this point (set in 2024, ugh I know).

And maybe he dabbles in online spaces here and there. He ignores the insufferable adults in the Star Wars fandom (the "um, actually..." guys, btw). Indulges the effort of typing out his handwritten fan fiction, ones he used to bring and pass around at conventions, ones he'd let Eddie read with a shy look in his eyes. And he posts them online, has a Tumblr account, maybe does a few short things on Twitter, definitely is on AO3 (albeit newer, having never attempted online fan work before).

But then...then he gets his first little bit of hate. Vicious, gross comments on his work. Sometimes in private messages. Even publicly, once, on Twitter. It irks him. He holds strong, he does. But then it gets worse and worse and somehow, worse. Younger people claiming he's too old, others claiming that he can't write for certain characters because they're out of his age range, that he can't ship certain people, he can't say that a character would do this or that, that Star Wars is media for a younger audience (despite being somebody who saw it "back in the day"). But that he...That he's not supposed to be there.

And that last little comment sticks with him for a long time. It makes his effort and his attention and his love for writing fanworks falter. He stops. Thinks about the characters he loves, of Leia and Han or even Luke and Han or Lando and Han (listen he loves writing Han). But then he wonders if it's even worth it, to indulge this interest anymore. Yeah, maybe he's older than the source material. Sure, maybe he was introduced to it a little later than most, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. Yet, his attention towards Star Wars completely falls away.

He stops watching it. His DVDs going dusty and unused. Starts putting away all his action figures, because what if he posts a photo one day and somebody sees them and claims that that's not for him and—

Then, he goes completely offline from fandom. Even if he still gets the emails from users who actually enjoy his stuff, ignoring them completely. Focuses on using the internet for work. For his novels, for the little stories he actually gets paid to write. But his work just isn't the same. The passion, despite being an original story and original source material, is completely dwindled.

His hobby has been stripped from him. His interest has been knocked straight out of his hands. And he just...moves on.

Even if it hurts to go down into the basement of he and Eddie's home, eyes catching on the see-through bins of original action figures, Lego sets, comic books. Even if it makes something strangle in his chest when he opens up the browser on his phone and it immediately opens to a new ship he'd been getting into: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker—because he finally picked up The Mandalorian, because he was finally talked into watching it when he had the free time.

And then it all bursts over when Eddie finally approaches him about it, when they're enjoying a night-in, sitting around lazily on their sofa.

"There's a convention coming into town," he comments, "supposedly, Hayden Christensen is going to be there. We should go, try and meet him."

Steve just grunts in response.

"Oh-kay...or we could just stay home and watch the movie?" Eddie suggests. "Been a while since I've seen Darth on screen, telling Luke about"—

"I don't want to," Steve cuts in quietly, "isn't really my thing anymore."

Silence then follows. For a beat. Then two. A third.

"Not your thing?" Eddie asks him incredulously. "Not too long ago you were raving all about that new show that's coming out! That you saw they were doing lightsaber whips and you were excited to see how they worked! What do you mean it's 'not your thing'?"

Steve shrugs. "Grew out of it or whatever. Got more important things to focus on now." He sniffs, trying to keep himself held together, grumpy and firm in his decision.

Eddie's stare drills into the side of his face. Scalding, just like that lava was in Revenge of The Sith. "Baby," he speaks softly, "did something happen? You haven't even...you don't read your beautiful little stories to me anymore. In fact, now that I think about it, I haven't even seen your lightsabers around here. What's goin' on?"

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt. A ratty plain white t-shirt that he wears now when he's lounging around the house. It used to be one with the Millennium Falcon on it, but that's tucked down far in his dresser. Not for him anymore.

"Steve," Eddie presses, "did something happen?"

His stare stays down at his lap, still fiddling with his shirt. Fingers flexing unfamiliarly in the strings, unlike the loose ones on his Star Wars shirts. "I just"—Steve heaves a deep sigh—"it's time I grow up. It's...not for me anymore. Too old for it now, I guess."

"You guess or you know? Because nobody's too old for anything. Unless, y'know, you're like eighty-nine and in terrible health and trying to hike Everest, then..."

Despite everything, Steve finds himself chuckling. A giddy little sound here and gone in a breath. He shrugs again, albeit smaller this time. Crumbling within himself. Quietly, honestly, he admits, "People were being mean to me about it online. About my writing. That I'm doing it wrong, that I—that I'm too old for it. That I don't belong because of my age." He finally brings himself to look at Eddie, blearily because his eyes are aching and wet. "I got to thinking and I...maybe I've just been too caught up in my own bliss to realize that those people are right. They're right and I shouldn't be into kids stuff anymore."

Eddie makes a soft, sad cooing noise in the back of his throat. "Oh, baby," he breathes. "Baby, those people don't know a single damn thing about your love. But...but I do. I know that you've seen every single Star Wars movie more times than I've probably eaten in my entire life. And what about all those Halloween costumes over the years? I didn't dress up like Leia for nothing, Mr. Solo."

Steve scoffs wetly. Goes to protest, but—

"And...and that handshake! The one with Dustin? You guys have had that for nearly forty fucking years! So, why bother indulging any of these...these hardasses on the internet? Did they sit next to you on the sofa as you fucking curled yourself like a shrimp and wrote every little intricate detail of a kiss between Luke and Han? Have they read your work while you blushed all shy, while you tucked your hair behind your ear and asked for the most earnest of feedback, to make sure you spelt things correctly or put a comma in the right place? These people, did they get to see you blossom and grow like a fucking bushel of roses over your hobby?

"Because I know I did. And even though you were nervous about your words on the paper, you still came to me. You still wrote and wrote and wrote until I had to bully you into breaks, just so you wouldn't ruin your poor wrists. If they had even an ounce of the passion that you do, they could write their own stories. They can make their own endings and make the characters the way they imagine them.

"They choose, instead, to—what—make fun of you because you have a space to express yourself? Because you found passion and turned it into something so beautiful, even I—a dungeon master, someone supposed to be amazing at storytelling—can't put into words? You found a way to do that, Steve. And you do that with kindness. You do it for free, mind you. If their only passion sits within sending you vitriol over people who aren't even remotely close to real, then they're the ones who don't belong.

"If I've learned anything, fandom is a space to share and bounce off each other's words. It's community and it's belonging and it's sharing what you love because you just love it. Fandom isn't bullying. Bullying is just bullying, Steve.

"And everything you've ever done in your life, in regards to fandom and outside of it, is so much better than hate. You may be a nerd or...or a little bit overzealous or whatever, but at least you aren't hateful. I think being hateful, that's worse—don't you think?"

Steve can only stare in response, fast tears down his cheeks, hands shaking in his shirt. Mind reeling. Because, yes, Eddie's right. And he maybe should've talked about it initially, but the hurt festered and festered and tangled and grew until he was nothing but an unhealed scab. And Eddie, he's the antiseptic to his uncovered cuts—the ones deep on his heart, where all his love is—even for things considered mundane, like movies, like TV shows.

"Steve," Eddie carefully murmurs, wrapping Steve's hands with his own, "you don't have to do something right to love it. You don't have to be a certain way to be happy. If Star Wars made you happy, then why give it up?"

He sniffles and chokes back on a sob. Because, again—damnit—Eddie's right. "I miss it," he admits quietly, "all I've done is miss it."

Eddie gives him a small smile. Something achingly soft that reaches deep within Steve. "Then open your arms and welcome it back, baby," he whispers, "even if you can't be online anymore, do it for yourself."

"I...I want to try it again, I'm just...scared. What if people hate it all over again? What if they're just nasty to me and shut me down and push me to the side and"—

"But what if they love it? What if your readers have missed you just as much?"

"You think?" he meekly asks.

Eddie's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "I know, actually. Your emails keep coming in on the computer's desktop because I keep forgetting to log you out. And, baby, you would not believe how many people have been eager for updates, for your return." His thumbs work into the backs of Steve's hands, warm and sure. "And, if it helps, maybe I can moderate your comments before you look at 'em? I'll read them to myself and if they're mean, I'll delete them."

Steve blows out a breathy little chuckle. "You'll just get mad at them," he gently teases. "But that doesn't sound too bad. Maybe I should try again. Not yet, though. I'm not ready."

"That's okay," Eddie assures, "take things slow. Maybe we start with watching the movies again? Getting your lightsabers back on display?"

"Can we go to the convention, too?"

"We can do whatever you want, Stevie."

For the first time in a long while, Steve finds himself smiling. "I love you," he whispers.

"I know."

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #future fic #modern day #Steve gets involved in a fandom space #established steddie

412 notes · View notes