#but i do make an effort to understand you

[sashayed]

I haven't written anything about what's happening at USAID, i think because I feel so sickened and overwhelmed by it. the number of vulnerable people worldwide who have died and will die because of the psychological defects of earth's wealthiest, most pathetic men is astonishing.

If you live in a represented territory in the U.S., here is a script from a beloved friend and ex-USAID staffer that you can say to your Congressional reps. Find their numbers here.

"Hello Representative [XYZ], My name is [XYZ] and I live in [XYZ]. I’m calling to urge you to reclaim Congressional power and ensure USAID's continued operations. The agency has broad bipartisan support, positively impacts US businesses and domestic security, and is crucial to US influence abroad.  Protecting this agency and its mission from biased political interference during your tenure will impact my vote in the next election. Thank you.”

I understand that a phrase like "US influence abroad" might feel distasteful to those of us who think US influence abroad is, and has been, Bad Actually. I think of it like I am playing a part where I have to pretend that we all agree this country is good so that fewer people die. USAID is one of the few agencies that is redistributing this country's resources globally in a useful way; I believe that is worth making an effort to protect.

I also haven't urged people to call their reps in a while. I understand why you might feel it is pointless. However I also think often it is good to do something pointless for the sake of having done it. IDK try it and see.

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna’s eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.

"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.

He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.

Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.

"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.

"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.

Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.

"Suku-… Ryomen, tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.

His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.

Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."

Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.

"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.

Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.

He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."

Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."

"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.

You hadn't done a thing he didn’t allow.

And for once, he didn't fight it.

[chromorbid]

[prefixing by saying i'm to give an "earnest" vibe and not a "telling you off" one bc i'm not great at words today, so here's a preemptive apology on that front]

yeah i'm grownup to understand when someone is just saying something out of an effort to get their outrage across and don't mean to imply that a ketamine addiction makes someone bad, which is why i didn't try to derail the post by making an addition within the post itself and just left a tag. just wanna get that outta the way

since you replied within your own post tho i'll take the opportunity to say thank you for clarifying, and just giving a reminder for the general crowd that—while we can criticize these assholes for letting him do this shit while comparatively giving the average person with addiction issues the runaround, like you said—the language we use regarding how we criticize fascists can be turned against us and used to hurt our own if we are not careful. so it's probably best lead with the actual intent of the meaning behind bringing up someone's addiction if you're going to bring it up at all

The US economy genuinely might collapse within a week. lol

[steddieas-shegoes]

because it's yours

for @steddielovemonth using the quote prompt: "If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples. I'd love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it's yours." - Stephen King

rated t | 1250 words | no cw | tags: post-vecna, eddie munson lives, pre-relationship, injury recovery, first kiss, getting together

▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️

Eddie’s not allowed visitors in the hospital, at least according to Wayne and Hopper. It’s for his own safety, they say.

Steve knows that’s partially bullshit. He’s good at sensing bullshit. But he plays along anyway, convinces the kids to just visit Max and they’ll plan a welcome home party for Eddie when he’s released. It gets harder by the day, especially when all the news they hear is that Eddie is healing well and should be good to go home even sooner than they thought.

No one tells them when he’s released.

Steve only finds out because he walks by the room Eddie’s been in, and instead of the door being closed, it’s wide open. There’s unfamiliar voices coming from the room. It could be doctors or nurses, but something makes him pause and peek in the doorway.

It’s an older woman and what appears to be her adult children, all of them having a very serious conversation about how she needs to be more careful while gardening.

Steve leaves before he’s caught eavesdropping.

He considers stopping by Dustin’s, see if he’s heard the news. Maybe the kids found out first.

Who is Steve to Eddie really?

Just because they gave each other looks and flirted a little and Steve carried him out of the Upside Down and-

He swallows the hurt and decides to go straight to Wayne’s new trailer. It’s just outside of town, easy to get to even with the damage done by the cracks. He’s been there a few times to check on him, even helped him set up his cable.

When Wayne opens the door, Steve knows something is off.

He doesn’t invite him in. Instead, he steps onto the porch and closes the door behind him. He gives Steve an awkward smile instead of his usual warm, comforting one.

“Is he home?” Steve asks.

“He’s sleeping,” Wayne allows. “He’s still recovering.”

“Do the kids know he’s home?”

“Son, he-“

“Why is he hiding? Everyone’s worried and just wants to make sure he’s okay. No one would keep him from resting!” Steve hates that his voice pitches higher. His hands are shaking. He’s never spoken to an adult he respects like this. “We just wanna know he’s safe.”

“He is.” Wayne sighs. “I told that boy no one was gonna stay away for long. He insisted everyone would forget him. I said no. He didn’t listen.”

Steve’s eyes dart over to the window he knows goes to Eddie’s bedroom. He’d been the one to help set it up when Wayne moved in.

“Can I please see him? I’ll be quick. I won’t even tell the kids yet. I just need to see,” Steve begs. “Please, Wayne.”

Wayne wordlessly opens the door and gestures for Steve to come inside.

He leads him to Eddie’s room, reminding him with a look to be quiet and not wake him up. Steve gives an understanding nod and walks into the room.

There’s sunlight sneaking through the blackout curtains, just enough to light up the bed that Eddie’s already wide awake in. Steve can’t help the smile blooming on his face.

Eddie looks scared, though.

His eyes are wide, and he’s pulled himself to the farthest corner of the queen sized bed. His hair’s a mess, proof that he probably was asleep just before Steve got here.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve waves. He doesn’t come any closer to the bed. “I just wanted to get eyes on you. Feeling alright?”

Wayne’s standing in the doorway behind Steve, probably trying to determine if he needs to step in or ride this out. If Eddie asks, Steve will leave. He doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asks.

Steve watches the way his jaw moves around the words, how his mouth twists differently, like it’s taking more effort to talk. The scar going across his cheek, up into his temple, and down to his neck seems to be the cause of it. It’s still an angry red, stitches visible in some places where the bites must’ve been deeper.

He walks forward slowly. Eddie doesn’t stop him. Neither does Wayne.

The scar is big. It’ll always be big, though Steve has plenty of experience with scars and knows it’ll fade into a paler pink than it currently is. It’ll be a reminder, every day, of how he almost died. Eddie will have this memory every time he looks in the mirror, every time his own fingers brush against the ridged skin.

Steve cups the side of Eddie’s face that’s scarless.

Eddie gulps.

“Is this why you didn’t want anyone to visit?” He whispers.

Eddie doesn’t answer, but his eyes closing and head tilting down is answer enough.

“Eddie, look at me.”

Eddie opens his eyes.

“Do you really think a scar could scare any of us away? After how we found you, a scar is the least of our worries. You don’t have to hide from us.”

Steve’s not sure if Wayne’s still standing in the doorway, too focused on the way Eddie’s holding his gaze now. He’s lost weight and he’s still pale, but he’s alive. He’s still beautiful.

Maybe even more now.

“You’re alive. Everyone just wants you alive.”

“I’m gonna look even weirder now,” Eddie rasps out. Steve wonders if there’s damage to his throat, something his voice may never recover from entirely.

“I dunno. I think it’s pretty badass. Since when do you care about looking weird, anyway?” Steve smirks. “The Eddie Munson I know would find a new ridiculous story to tell every time he’s asked about something this cool.”

“I was leaning towards making people believe I got in a fight with a dragon,” Eddie shrugs one shoulder. His cheeks are red, warm underneath Steve’s touch.

“And won.”

Eddie leans his head forward, resting his forehead against Steve’s. “Of course I won. A knight in shining armor saved me.”

“You saved everyone else first. Don’t forget that part of the story,” Steve reminds him.

“A hero’s brave sacrifice…” Eddie mumbles. Steve chuckles. “Maybe true love’s kiss?”

“Isn’t that supposed to break a curse?” Steve whispers, suddenly nervous about all the times they flirted before. Flirting is harmless until it’s not.

“You’re right. In this case, it’s the curse of never kissing a nice guy.”

“And you think I can break that curse?”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

It’s a little awkward at first, mostly because parts of Eddie’s jaw are still numb from nerve damage and moving in certain ways is difficult. But once Steve adjusts, and they both giggle against each others’ lips, it’s easy. They fit.

Eddie tries to deepen the kiss, but he is still healing, and he has to pull away when his stitches tug painfully.

“Your battle scars won’t matter to any of us. They damn sure don’t make you less beautiful to me. Everyone misses you,” Steve rubs his arm, the one with no visible bandages. “Can I at least bring Dustin over later? Let him see that you’re actually alive and the hospital and government haven’t been lying?”

“Is that what everyone thinks?”

“You have to remember we’ve been through this a lot. Hopper was dead until he wasn’t. Anything can be faked.”

“That’s reassuring,” Eddie groans. “Yeah. Bring everyone by tomorrow. I’ll even shower.”

Steve kisses the top of his head. “Do you need help?”

“With showering? I just might, big boy.”

The way Eddie smiles is different now, but Steve loves it all the same.

[astrcmoni]

just woke up and y’all already pissing me off. i understand that everyone is still upset from the grammys last night, rightfully so, but do not make her personal sadness your comfort.

you can crash out, you can feel some type of way but don’t make it about yourself because you as an individual are not affected by this situation neither positively or negatively. none of us are.

yall do shit like that along with spreading around the images of her crying and then wonder why she doesn’t like to post shit anymore. cause yall do bullshit like that. who the fuck wants to see themselves on the internet crying after not winning a single award for their most rawest and passionate project yet, it’s already being televised live, and after the internet dragged you for your new cut and fit. nobody wants to see that.

this goes for everyone too and i really don’t care if she’s going to see it or not it’s still odd. that’s like saying ‘oh someone just shot billie’s grandpa or someone just burned her house down….make something to where we comfort her through that’…. (just an example cause this ain’t the first time i seen this bs😒)

are you going to heal her grandpa or build her a new house in real life? no, you won’t cause you can’t. like i stated earlier its perfectly okay to be upset on her behalf but this will never hit hard for you like it does her and her brother. they put their entire being, time, efforts, money and so much more into this album. as a community we need to step back, go back to your regularly scheduled program. cause these awards are not definitive to her as an artist nor as a person.

let their loss be what it is and give them the room to handle it and deal with it gracefully.

once again this goes towards everything i’ve been seeing since last night, these are just some examples, no one in specific. but if you feel like this applies to you and the shoe fits, you better wear it.

[anim-ttrpgs]

@anenbylittlepotato

There’s a few options

Firstly I would suggest having someone who knows what they’re doing walk you through the rules and especially the character creation, you won’t be that annoying player who offloads all their rules-understanding to someone else forever as long as you make a real effort and try to really memorize and apply the rules as you go, but it sounds like you’ve already tried this so I think I have a better idea:

Play simpler and/or better designed games.

No matter what the marketing says, D&D5e is in the upper-mid level of complexity for TTRPGs, and its character creation in particular is a messy slog. More people would bounce off it if there wasn’t a billion-dollar marketing machine pushing it like a bulldozer (and flattening everything else in the space).

A simpler RPG is easier to learn up to a certain point(an RPG that is too simple can leave inexperienced players twisting in the wind, which is why I don’t recommend one-page RPGs to people just starting out), and a complex but well-designed RPG can be just as easy to learn but with a little more time commitment.

Here’s a list of some RPGs off the top of my head you might check out, sorted (vaguely) from least to most complex.

Mausritter

GREED

FIST

Mork Borg

Mothership

D&D Basic

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy (My team made this!)

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (don’t let the name “Advanced” scare you, it’s actually slightly less complex than later editions of D&D)

Pathfinder 2e

This list runs the gamut in terms of tone, setting, narrative structure/playstyle, etc. but don’t worry about that, you don’t have to lock in to a single one, you can learn to play them all because none of these will take up your entire life nor break the bank. The hardest part, as always, will probably convincing your friends to even consider them. I can provide some help with that too.

My team run a “TTRPG Book Club” that, among other things, helps D&D5e refugees escape and step out into the broader world of TTRPGs. It’s a super welcoming community where you can get introduced to, and get into groups to play, a wide variety of different TTRPGs.

I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.

Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.

And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.

And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.

[ribbonedreverie]

He Won’t Say I Love You

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Osamu Dazai – “Don’t Die Before Me”

Dazai doesn’t say “I love you.”

Dazai’s way of loving is contradictory, elusive, and impossible to pin down. His words are always laced with meaning, but never in the way you’d expect—because he does not speak plainly, not about things that matter. Love is a game to most, but to him, it is a ghost—something he has studied, something he understands deeply, yet something that has always evaded him.

That’s why he won’t say he loves you.

Because love, in its purest form, has never been kind to him. He knows love from the pages of books, from the way poets drown themselves in it, from the way people call it devotion but mean self-destruction. And Dazai is a master of self-destruction.

So instead, he turns love into something abstract. Something for you to decipher, something for you to chase, if you’re willing.

He flirts without effort, spins sweet words with a poet’s cadence, smiles like he’s already figured you out. But if you pay attention, you’ll notice the gaps—the empty spaces between his words, the careful distance he keeps no matter how close he leans. The way he offers everything and nothing at the same time.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you’ll hear it in the way he remembers things he shouldn’t—the way your voice sounds when you’re tired, the exact time the streetlights in your neighborhood flicker on. You’ll see it in the way he steals your pen but always returns it, tucked next to a note written in his elegant, half-mocking script.

You’ll feel it in the way his fingers brush against your wrist just long enough to make you wonder if it was intentional.

You’ll notice it in the way he never lies to you. Not because he is kind, not because he trusts you, but because if you saw through him, if you recognized what he really is, he wonders if you would stay anyway.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you do leave, if you choose to walk away, he will not chase you. He will not beg, will not plead. He will laugh it off, throw some teasing remark over his shoulder, and turn the page as if you were just another fleeting story in his collection.

But late at night, when the city is quiet and the ghosts press in too closely, he will still pour two cups of tea.

“Don’t die before me.”

That’s what he really means.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Chuuya Nakahara – “You already know, don’t you?”

He won’t say he loves you.

Not because he doesn’t want to—he does, more than he’d ever admit—but because love, real love, isn’t something spoken. It’s something you prove.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he proves it in the way he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk, shielding you from passing cars. In the way he places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through a crowd, steady, present. In the way he always remembers your favorite drink and orders it without asking, as if knowing your preferences is as natural to him as breathing.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he loves like a storm—fierce, untamed, all-consuming. But around you, that fire softens into something warm, something safe.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will roll his eyes when you forget your scarf but wrap his around you without a second thought. He will complain about your reckless habits but pull you into his arms the second you stumble. He will grumble that you’re a handful, that you make his life harder, but his hands will never let you go.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he loves with his entire being. He will hold you like you’re something precious, something irreplaceable, like he’s terrified that one wrong move will shatter the moment. He will kiss you like it’s a promise, like he’s memorizing the way you fit against him in case fate decides to be cruel.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you are hurt—if you so much as wince in pain, if you ever cry in front of him— he will carry the weight of it himself. He will fight with his teeth bared, his fists clenched, his body a shield between you and the world. Because no one gets to hurt what’s his.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will never ask you to stay. Not because he doesn’t want you to—but because he wants you to choose him, freely, without hesitation. He doesn’t need declarations, doesn’t need grand confessions—he just needs to know that when he reaches for you, you will be there.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when he stands beside you in a room, offering his hand with a smirk that softens only for you, it’s there in the way he holds you.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when he sleeps better with you tucked beside him, when his hand finds yours even in dreamless nights, when he fights like hell to keep you safe, it’s there in the way he chooses you. Every time.

“You already know, don’t you?”

That’s what he really means.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Ryunosuke Akutagawa – “Don’t die before I can protect you properly.”

He won’t say he loves you.

Not because he doesn’t feel it, but because love is foreign to him, something distant and unreachable, like the stars above the slums he grew up in. It is something delicate, something soft, something he was never meant to hold in his own hands.

He won’t say he loves you.

Because love, to him, has always been synonymous with loss. Everything he has ever cared for has been taken, ripped from his grasp before he even had a chance to understand it. So why would this be any different?

He won’t say he loves you.

But you’ll feel it in the way he teaches you how to fight, how he watches your every movement, memorizing the rhythm of your steps as if preparing to shield you before you even fall. You’ll see it in the way Rashomon hovers near you, shifting subtly, positioning itself between you and danger like an unspoken vow.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when you speak, he listens—truly listens, in a way he never does with anyone else. He absorbs your words like they are gospel, lets them settle deep in his chest, turns them over in his mind long after you’re gone.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you are hurt—if someone dares to lay a hand on you, if you ever bleed because of another, his rage will be instant, merciless. Not because he is angry, but because the sight of you in pain is unbearable in a way he doesn’t have the language to explain.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will stand beside you in silence, his presence unwavering, his eyes dark with something unspoken. He will never call you strong, but he will only ever respect those who are, and you are the only one he allows close.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you ever left, he would never stop looking for you. He would never say your name out loud, but it would echo in his mind like an unfinished sentence, like a prayer whispered too late.

“Don’t die before I can protect you properly.”

That’s what he really means.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Fyodor Dostoevsky – “You amuse me.”

He won’t say he loves you.

Because love, to him, is a human weakness. A flaw. A crack in the foundation of something that should be unshakable. Love clouds judgment, warps perspective, turns the brilliant into fools—and Fyodor Dostoevsky is no fool.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you are an exception. A variable he did not account for. A contradiction he cannot solve. And that interests him.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will watch you—not with longing, not with sentimentality, but with the gaze of a man who is used to understanding everything, and yet, somehow, does not understand you. He studies you the way he studies a chessboard, as if you are a piece that does not belong, a move he did not anticipate.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will never lie to you. Not because he is kind, not because he respects you, but because there is no need to deceive something he already considers his.

He won’t say he loves you.

But his touch, when it comes, is deliberate. He brushes his fingers against yours as he hands you a teacup, lingers just long enough for the contact to mean something—but not long enough for you to be sure. He never calls you by your name when he can call you something softer, something more intimate, something that makes it feel like you are special, even when you know you shouldn’t be.

He won’t say he loves you.

But his affection is in the silences, in the spaces between words, in the moments when he allows you to stand close when he would never tolerate another. He lets you speak your mind, even when he already knows what you will say. He allows you to question him, because he enjoys watching you try to unravel something that cannot be unraveled.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he lets you live. And that, more than anything, should terrify you.

“You amuse me.”

That’s what he really means.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Sigma – “Tell me I’m real.”

He won’t say he loves you.

Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. He is a man who did not exist until recently, a being with no past, no childhood, no proof that he belongs in this world at all.

He won’t say he loves you.

Because to love means to claim something as your own, and he is still unsure if he is allowed to claim anything. He does not know what he is, where he came from, or what fate has planned for him—but he knows you.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you’ll feel it in the way he always makes sure your favorite things are stocked in the casino, even if you never ask. In the way his hands hesitate before pulling away, as if he wants to hold on just a little longer but fears what it might mean.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you are the only thing that makes him feel real. The only proof he has that he exists as something more than a placeholder in a story someone else wrote.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he will memorize your schedule, not out of control, but out of a quiet longing to be part of your world. He will watch you from the corner of his eye, wondering if he can be someone worth staying for.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when you leave a room, he waits an extra second before breathing again, as if your presence alone steadies him.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you ever tried to leave for good, he would not beg you to stay. Not because he doesn’t want to—but because he fears that if you go, he will forget what it felt like to be wanted at all.

“Tell me I’m real.”

That’s what he really means.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Nikolai Gogol – “You’re the only one who makes me stay.”

He won’t say he loves you.

Because love is a chain, and chains were meant to be broken. Love is something that binds, tethers, shackles—and he has spent his whole life cutting himself free.

He won’t say he loves you.

But he lingers longer than he should, just close enough for you to wonder if he means to stay. He calls you his little trick, his favorite act, his most entertaining performance—but the way he watches you when you aren’t looking? That’s not an act.

He won’t say he loves you.

But you’ll feel it in the way his chaos never quite touches you. In the way his games are never at your expense, the way he teases but never cuts too deep, the way he pretends to be fickle but always, always finds his way back to you.

He won’t say he loves you.

But when he speaks of freedom—his one obsession, the thing that drives him, the only thing he has ever truly wanted—you notice he never includes you in the things he wants to leave behind.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you ever tried to run, he would let you. He would laugh, twirl his cane, bow like a gentleman as if bidding farewell to a fleeting amusement. But if you watched closely—if you really knew him—you would notice the hesitation, the half-second of stillness, as if something inside of him had just unraveled.

He won’t say he loves you.

But if you ever truly disappeared, he would burn the world down looking for you, laughing all the while, like it was all just another game.

“You’re the only one who makes me stay.”

That’s what he really means.

[abiatackerman]

Having Levi as your lover would be an incredibly wholesome and peaceful experience. Beyond his overprotectiveness when it comes to your safety, he is a genuinely comforting presence. He may not be the most expressive person, but his quiet devotion speaks louder than words.

As much as it pains me to admit, Levi doesn't have a high opinion of himself. The manga has shown just how insecure he is, and that extends to his feelings for you as well. He would never make the first move because, deep down, he doesn't believe he's good enough for you.

However, that doesn't mean he would glare at you every time you smile at another man. In fact, he'd be the total opposite. As long as you're happy, he won't complain. Your happiness is all that matters to him, even if it means you end up with someone else. Still, he'll always remain by your side, ensuring you're safe and well, even if he never voices his feelings.

That being said, Levi will step in if he thinks you're doing something risky or harmful to yourself. At that point, he won't hesitate to barge into your life, even if it annoys you. Having lost almost everyone he has ever cared about, he refuses to lose you too. He will issue silent but firm warnings to anyone who dares to hurt you and will always do his best to protect you. And at that moment, you might start to realize just how deep his feelings are, for you.

If you tell him you don't share his feelings and ask him not to interfere in your life, he will respect your wishes. He'll be hurt, but he'll never let you see it. Even from afar, he will continue to watch over you, making sure you're safe and happy. If you find someone else who treats you well, Levi won't act rudely toward them. Instead, he'll give them a simple, stoic warning: Take care of her.

But if you confess your feelings to him, choosing to make him a permanent part of your life, he will be secretly overjoyed. Because of his insecurities, he would never expect you to love him back, so when you take that first step without letting pride hold you back, you'll thank yourself forever because you'll realise that you have found one of the most non-toxic men to love.

Why do I call him non-toxic? Because Levi would be the most understanding lover. He would listen to all your complaints and genuinely try to change for you. If he knows that his cursing or blunt words hurt you, he will make an effort to be more mindful. No matter what it takes, he will try to make you happy, because despite his dark past, you have chosen to love him—and he will do everything in his power to be the man you deserve.

🩷If you wanna be tagged let me know🩷

Masterlist

Tags: @theremainsof @spouseofleviackerman @levisbrat25 @anti-cupid @meowmewow7 @mikabella7 @satorella @sugacor3 @darkstarlight82 @derealizationns

[unsolicited-opinions]

I'm starting to think that a whole lot of US Jews don't understand why a crowd of tiki torch Nazis chanted "Jews will not replace us" in Charlottesville. It seems like a lot of US Jews don't yet understand how the anti-immigrant sentiment Trump used to recapture the presidency is a direct threat to US Jews.

If you don't know this yet, please read the broad strokes below:

1. Like a certain Austrian in the 20th century, Trump saw both a disgruntled part of the electorate and their antipathy for non-white, non-Christian, foreign-born people. He capitalized on their xenophobia and feelings of abandonment by blaming foreigners, LGBTQ+ folks, and DEI for all the US's challenges.

He's used and amplified bigotry against already-marginalized people in order to ride his base's bigotry to power. All comparisons people make between this and how Hitler amplified and harnessed the power of antisemitism are entirely appropriate. It's demagoguery.

2. One of the existing, popular, xenophobic ideas on which Trump capitalized is a right-wing conspiracy theory usually called The Great Replacement.

It seems as though many US Jews do not realize that Jews are a huge part of this conspiracy theory.

Great Replacement, also known as white replacement theory or white genocide theory, claims there is an intentional effort, led by Jews, to promote mass non-white immigration, inter-racial marriage, and other efforts that would lead to the “extinction of whites.”

This conspiracy theory was famously promoted at the 2017 “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, VA, when white supremacists chanted, “Jews will not replace us.”

Right wing commentators have invoked the Great Replacement theory to say Democrats are “replacing” American citizens with illegal immigrants. Belief in the Great Replacement theory has been cited as motivation for recent terror attacks, including the 2018 Pittsburgh, PA, synagogue shooting at the Tree of Life, the 2019 El Paso, TX, and Christchurch, New Zealand, shootings, and the 2022 shooting in Buffalo, NY.

4. This isn't a theory limited to the far-right fringe. About half of US Republicans believe it.

It's been actively promoted on Fox "News" by Tucker Carlson and others.

This was the theory Elon Musk agreed with in a tweet, causing a mass exodus of advertisers from Twitter and prompting Musk's apology tour to Auschwitz with Ben Shapiro.

5. The anti-immigrant fervor, the mass deportation plans...? They're all tied up with Jews in the minds of the far-right base to whom Trump and his henchmen keep winking and dogwhistling. Trump has openly endorsed this conspiracy theory.

I see a lot of Jews online deciding to keep their heads down because they think Jews aren't the immediate target of this authoritarian and I'm gobsmacked by their ignorance of history and failure to pay attention to the rapid and violent increase in far-right antisemitic violence in recent years, driven by the very same Trump who they mistakenly believe is "good for the Jews."

Jews are being set up as scapegoats.

----

The irony is amazing, too. If you ask believers in the Great Replacement conspiracy theory for evidence of the Jewish plot to replace white people, they'll produce headlines about Jewish charitable organizations which seek to aid refugees:

The fact that Jews...care about refugees...is the proof of our sinister plot against white people.

[maspers]

Oh! You're asking about Outer Darkness. Let's see if I can help out. Disclaimer tho I'm just a random guy on the internet so be aware that my personal understanding of my faith could be coloring my explanation somewhat, despite my efforts not to.

First: yes, as the existence of such a place implies, we do believe in a possibility for eternal punishment. If we're talking about permanent hell, this is the place. The reason tons of LDS folks like to act like it doesn't is because 1) it sounds nicer and unfortunately people care too much about their reputations and 2) the chances of going to Outer Darkness is like. ASTRONOMICALLY small.

There's an old joke that if you ask a Mormon what happens after you die, they'll draw you a map (as opposed to a Catholic who will tell you to ask your priest and a Protestant who will tell you to ask your Bible, iirc how the joke goes). And honestly, it's true. LDS theology has its afterlife occur in multiple stages. The Spirit World is when you go where you die. But EVENTUALLY Jesus is gonna show up again (probably at the end of the apocalypse because dramatic timing) and EVERYONE is gonna get resurrected. And while the resurrecting is going on there's like a thousand years of awesomeness and getting some last-minute ordinance work done. Shenanigans ensue, everyone teams up to beat up Satan one last time (long story) and THEN and only then do we get to the Final Judgement, when it's FINALLY decided where people are going to be for eternity.

At every point BEFORE the final judgement, everything is ultimately temporary and can be forgiven or whatever because Jesus is awesome. Immortality is a guarantee for literally everyone, and even the people who DONT repent and become good people will still get a spot in a Kingdom of Glory, which even the lowest is referred to as better than anything humanity can comprehend (LDS folk don't do what they do because they want to get into Heaven, they do what they do because they want ALL THE PERKS). Getting into a Kingdom of Glory is essentially the DEFAULT.

But, at the final judgement, it IS possible for someone to do something that can never be forgiven. If you stand at the final judgement, with a perfect knowledge of EVERYTHING (because like, it's the final judgement, your entire past and the past of the UNIVERSE is laid out in front of you, you have complete understanding of what the universe is, how it works, and God's role in all of it) and then essentially give God the middle finger and say "screw you God, I hate you and deny you and everything you stand for"... He still won't send you to Outer Darkness. You have to do that to Him, AND Jesus, AND the Holy Ghost (LDS folk believe they're separate people, not a long story but not worth going into here) and basically also give literally every thing that's good the middle finger as well in the process, because ultimately everything good in the world comes back to those three. Then, and ONLY then, will you be declared a Son of Perdition (though really it should be "Child of Perdition" now, the term originates from scriptural text, obviously people who aren't male could still in theory become a Son of Perdition) and you'll go to Outer Darkness to chill with Satan and be depressed for eternity. I cannot emphasize enough that the people who go to Outer Darkness will go there of their own free will and choice, with a perfect understanding of the decision they are making. Despite what some people might tell you (and what some very stupid LDS folk might believe) Mormonism is heavily built on the concept of free will, and getting sent to Outer Darkness is no exception. You only go there if you WANT to.

And honestly, that's a REALLY stupid thing to do? The amount of people who will end up as Sons of Perdition is INSANELY small, especially compared to the amount of humans that have lived and will live. In all of scripture we only know of to meet the criteria is Cain, and he was only able to meet the criteria because of the unique circumstances at the start of Genesis, it's pretty much impossible for ANYONE to qualify during mortality, or at any other point before Judgement. Cain just is Like That I guess. (Incidentally Cain will explicitly RULE the place, because Satan is a loser and doesn't have a body so he can't be in charge). Some people claim Judas Iscariot also qualifies but that's not backed up by any scriptural or prophetic text, and frankly that idea doesn't make much sense to me.

The kicker is in theory, Outer Darkness technically isn't permanent either. If a Son of Perdition were to recant their ultimate middle finger to God and everything else, they would in theory be allowed to leave. The only reason it IS permanent is because at that point the idea of spitefully rejecting the glory of God is so engrained in their being that they will never repent. It's become their entire nature. (I'll admit this part isn't stated explicitly in scripture anywhere, for obvious reasons Outer Darkness isn't talked about much in the text, but it can be reasonably extrapolated from what we know about the nature of God and mankind based ON the text).

So TLDR: Outer Darkness is a thing in LDS theology, and so is Eternal Punishment, but the only people who go there LITERALLY ask for it. You're almost certainly not going there. Don't worry about it.

As for how this affects the LDS perception of Hell... like every religion, YMMV. Different members view things differently. Some people mistakenly believe that if you're a member of the Church and then leave or otherwise start being a bad person, you'll go to Outer Darkness. This explicitly isn't the case. But Outer Darkness as we understand it is the part of our theology that most closely resembles the traditional Christian idea of hell (though with less fire and brimstone and more just eternal self-loathing and anger), so if a Latter-Day Saint is referring to Hell as a specific place, then they're probably referring to here.

However, when an LDS person mentions Hell, they could ALSO be referring to:

Spirit Prison, where the people who didn't do All The Right Things in life go when they die. Not as bad as it sounds. Like yeah there's suffering but as we understand it it's probably like the "You feel your sins crawling up your back" thing from Undertale where you're just hating yourself because of your guilt. Regardless of if you stay here or end up transferring to Spirit Paradise, you still probably won't go to Outer Darkness. This takes place before the Judgement (long before) but since it's IMMEDIATELY after mortality it sometimes gets conflated with Hell as "bad place you go when you die"

Spiritual Death, aka what Hell as a concept MOST likely is being referred to by LDS. Literally just referring to a spiritual separation from god. Physical Death is when your body dies (oof) and Spiritual Death is when you metaphorically die by not being Christlike, and can really happen at any time. Jesus, being the awesome person He is, provides salvation from BOTH kinds of death (He breaks the "chains of death and hell") so like. Don't even worry about it. Incidentally, since literally everyone is experiencing some level of Spiritual death right now because we're designed to be flawed during mortality, we're technically all in hell right now! Yayyyyyyyyy. Again, don't worry, this is part of the process, part of the point of mortality is to fail and get back up.

So Second TLDR: Outer Darkness is generally known and understood by LDS communities, but like. We don't worry about it too much. Usually when an LDS folk talks about hell in a religious sense they're talking about the concept of (ideally temporary) Spiritual Death.

"Maspers are you going to cite your sources" No, this is tumblr and I'm lazy. the other LDS folks can back me up and correct me if I'm wrong. Peer review ftw.

seeing people discussing the concept of hell and how cruel the idea of eternal punishment is like, wow! i know this belief system you would love if not for your knee-jerk reaction against its name

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

I would like to know what you think people mean when they say wwx didn't respect jc.

cause personally, I do not understand that take what so ever, what has wwx ever done that is disrespectful?

I am trying so hard to figure this one out because HUH

Hi anon. This was going to originally be a longer response but I felt this was a lot simpler in reason than it was worth the effort I was trying to give it so, Here is what I think they mean: Wei Wuxian was the one to think of Jiang Cheng as lesser and due to perceived failing of Wei Wuxian's morals his actions are seen as reckless in the face of Jiang Cheng's "pragmatism".

This claim relies on making Wei Wuxian's own moral righteousness and his entirety more cruel than it ever actually is shown and meant to be, and treating Jiang Cheng... like Jiang Cheng canonically treated Wei Wuxian. Saying he disrespected Jiang Cheng, is to go against the moral beacon (and yes frankly ideal) the plot has tried to establish Wei Wuxian's morals to be by cherry picking what he did as a disservice to make Jiang Cheng seem vastly more heroic and sympathetic than he was ever meant to be established as.

His kindness towards Mianmian and his standing by his allies (Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan) is made to be out of actual arrogance to spin the situation to make Jiang Cheng the overall party wronged there. Wei Wuxian giving his core is likened to rape to essentially nullify Jiang Cheng's hate and jealousy always being the crux of their fall out, despite the actual loyalty Wei Wuxian displayed to the name of Yunmeng Jiang for him by giving that core up and saying nothing because he knew Jiang Cheng had that fragile of an ego despite his demands of being owed so much by the world. Him saving the Wens is a slap in Jiang Cheng's face (because of course his claims about Wei Wuxian betraying Yunmeng Jiang are reasonable and not about Jiang Cheng thinking he is owed ridiculous demands for what Wei Wuxian has done to him).

There is no reasonability to what if Wei Wuxian's morality to prop up Jiang Cheng, because the plot never places Jiang Cheng in the position of wronged by Wei Wuxian at any point.

Now I can say perhaps, in a sense were Wei Wuxian did not respect Jiang Cheng is because they have very very different moral ideals, that are diametrically opposed to each other, and Wei Wuxian does not care to rescind what he thinks is right for the sake of Jiang Cheng's ego. And that's really what the issue is and why Jiang Cheng stans want to argue Wei Wuxian treated Jiang Cheng cruelly and disrespectfully. Because they don't want to admit he is just a vile, jealous, hateful, mean, selfish person that is egotistical.

[chaifootsteps]

To me, Charlie from the show and Charlie from the pilot are two totally different entities.

One is Charlie Magne, the other is Charlie Morningstar.

I love Charlie Magne, i hate Charlie Morningstar.

I love the Charlie Magne thats positive despite living on an hostile enviroment but still smart enough to not make any impulsive desisions. The one that tries to be nice to everyone but still wont let them walk over her. The one that clearly shows to care about her people and wants to use her power as a ruler to improve things for them. The one who understand how redemption works and is completelly willing to help anybody to improve themselves and gain heaven. The one that may be a little childish and naive on ocasions but still ready to learn better. The one who actually puts effort into reaching her goals. The one who was smart enough to not make a deal with a dangerous demon and instead, on a clever way, uses her position as a princess of hell to make him work for her.

I love that sweet, smart, caring and mature Charlie Magne. And i also love her silly outfit.

I hate the Charlie Morningstar thats really stupid and takes a lot of idiotic desisions because she doesnt stop to think. The one who legit acts like a little kid on very serious situations. The one that speaks condescendingly to people and then acts surprised when they dont like her. The one that expects everything to go the way she wants while barely trying and gets mad when it doesnt happen. The one that ignores her status as a ruler and refuse to stop "her people" from doing terrible things because "telling people what to do is mean :(". The one that doesnt actually want redemption for sinners, just think they deserve heaven already because "it isnt fair" that criminals, murderers, rapists, etc dont get to heaven but angels that are kinda mean do. The one that proposes the most cuestionable and useless ideas and gets so upset when people dont follow her. The one that legits throws tantrums when things dont go her way.

I hate that childish, dumb, impulsive, weak minded Charlie Morningstar. And i also hate her stupid lawyer uniform.

Agreed, wholeheartedly. Pilot Charlie was a fiery, competent little badass with a big heart and just enough flawed naivete to make her interesting. Charlie Morningstar is a blundering, selfish idiot womanchild.

You calling it "her stupid lawyer suit" made me think of this skit, with pilot Charlie on the left and series Charlie on the right.

[doberbutts]

To note: I included all of those examples because they are things I have seen get labeled as "women's spaces" that trans men should not have access to. Not you, to be clear, which is why I asked what you were referring to, because so many times I see the above examples be referred to as women's spaces when many of them are co-ed or trans men still need access. Especially recently with the whole abortion and reproductive rights thing going around politically in my country. It's one of the reasons I've been quiet on tumblr for the past week or so and I only came back to answer a DM and spotted this post on my way back out.

Believe it or not, there are people who have said that trans men should not access any of these things by effect of being men, whether they are out or not, whether they pass or not, whether cis men have access or not.

Additionally to be clear- I also think that in most cases, gender segregation is stupid. I, uh, think that a lot of times "separate but equal" is perhaps putting a bandaid on a problem that needs lancing and suturing, and what we get is separate and very inequal. I also understand why gender segregation is a thing, and why it exists in the first place, and so have to come to think of these things from a harm reduction standpoint while also working towards a world in which gender segregation is no longer a thing that society feels we need.

That being said- honestly, as a gay and masc binary trans man, I don't want to access lesbian spaces. I don't want to access women's social groups. But I know plenty of binary and nonbinary trans men who have deep roots in lesbian spaces long before they figured out their genders, and I think it would be hurtful to eject them from a social group they have occasionally decades within just because they are trans. I felt that way about the kid that got kicked out of Girl Scouts after spending roughly a decade within the organization- kicking someone out because they're transgender is not right. You should not be forced to burn your social group the moment you take your first step towards your own happiness. Most binary trans guys will start to drift away from these spaces as it often eventually becomes quite dysphoric to be continuously referred to as women, it's not really necessary to shove them out the door before they're ready.

Also to be clear- I don't exclude trans women in the "we've always been here", which is why I mentioned that we as trans men have always occupied so-called "women's spaces" along with our *cis and trans* sisters. I personally occupy gay men's spaces and there sure are some trans women here too- I equally don't think they should be kicked out, because they've also always been here with us too. My "we" in "we've always been here" is inclusive of my sisters, my cousins, my siblings, my gender-in-laws. I've been out for 19 years at this point. And I've done so hand-in-hand with the rest of my trans family.

But to answer your question flatly: what, if not gender, do we used to exclude someone from a gender segregated space? I don't think we should have gender segregated spaces, and I think any efforts to exclude on a basis of gender will inevitably end up backfiring on those who do actually belong there- whether on cis butches and studs assumed to be too manly, or on trans women of any presentation due to their transness, or on trans men who are not yet out and it is not safe for them to do so, or on nonbinary people who are forced into one category or another against their will, or on intersex people trying to find their place...

And I think if the system is at such a high risk of harming the people it claims to protect, maybe it's time to try a different system of keeping people safe.

Any rule you (general) make is going to hurt someone it claims to protect. So why do we need the rule in the first place? Perhaps we should start by solving the problem that made us need these rules to begin with.

okay my question, genuinely, to trans men in the transandrophobia space, is this:

upon what grounds can someone justifiably be excluded from a womens space if not their gender? if trans men should be allowed into womens spaces, then why not cis men? i mean, theyre men, we're men, and if we're allowed in, why shouldnt they be? "they dont face the same struggles that we do!" lmao some of them do!

its just perplexing why the statement "the only reason someone can justifiably be excluded from a gender segregated space is that they are not the gender that the space is for" is so fucking offensive to people all on its own? like yeah yeah our struggles but like we are still men, right? and these spaces are for women, right? so why is "you are being excluded for being a man" when you are one treated like this absurdly offensive thing or like theres "no reason" for it. there is one! youre a guy lol.

whether you think that you should be excluded for being a guy or not is not the question im asking here-- its that, if being a man is not a justifiable reason to exclude someone from a womens space, then what is lmao?

[npdclaraoswald]

I've see lots of discussion about the reasons why so many fans prefer Stan to Ford: the fact that we have so much more time with Stan, the fact that the very first thing we saw Ford do was punch a beloved character, the fact that there was a big theory when the show was airing that Ford would turn out to secretly still be working with Bill, the fact that there was a huge time gap between Not What He Seems and A Tale of Two Stans airing which allowed the fandom that had been rewarded for theories a lot of time to make up a version of Ford both to get mad at and to get mad at real Ford for not being, etc

But I haven't personally seen discussion on what I think might be the biggest reason (not to say that those discussions don't exist, just that I haven't seen it). Personally, the reason that I love both of the Stans is that they're both just so sad and pitiful and have such big tragic backstories. But 90% of Ford's tragic backstory is in the books, and while the books are very popular and even fans who haven't read them at least know the gist of them, there's inherently going to be less fans who have read the books than have watched the show. And if you haven't read the books, Stan's tragic backstory is: kicked out of home and isolated from family, homeless for ten years and likely impoverished longer than that, trouble with the law and prison stays, and losing his brother again. Meanwhile, Ford's backstory as is in the show is: not getting into his dream school but still going to one that clearly served him well, losing his brother, getting tricked by Bill but without any of the details, and went through the portal for 30 years but we don't have any of the details and now he's a cool action hero.

Whether it's thinking about the Implications a lot on your own or going out and reading the books, it requires more work to fully understand just how much Ford has gone through. And I feel like the average fan who hasn't put in that extra effort would look at those experiences and be like "Well obviously Stan went through more, we should be more sympathetic towards him."

[prlite]

i am that ATTITUDE ( the art of persistence )

❝ a minor ordeal to me is a friend of mine it's cute when fate plays a trick i've got to roll with it, what can I do? ❞

trying to persist when unwanted circumstances happen can be hard; sometimes you feel like youre insane and that all of your effort has disappeared. you've been affirming, done like 50 mental diets and bingelistened to thousands of subliminals yet an unwanted circumstance STILL happened...does this mean that your ability to manifest is suddenly gone ?

NO.

if anything, it's more of a test of your self-trust. it's okay to be emotionally affected by sudden circumstances, you're human after all, but just because you're emotionally affected by it doesn't mean you automatically don't trust your ability to manifest and automatically assume that your manifestations won't happen. i can be upset that my hair didnt grow as long as i hoped, but i trust myself well enough to know that it's still going to grow as long as i assume it will. why? because i know that what i assume will come to life & i trust that what i assume will come to life.

that's the difference between the attitude that you currently have and the attitude that you need to have. being shaken up by something unexpected is natural, but it's about how you mentally tackle it.

will you assume that you actually suck as a manifestor, that you've been faking it this entire time, that everyone is so much better than you & you're just an awful person who'll never get what they want OR will you assume that this is a very small roadblock that you don't need to pay attention to, that regardless of what'll happen luck will always be on your side & that you can just roll with it because you have trust in yourself and know that when you assume something it'll always come into fruition ?

at the end of the day, your attitude and understanding of how law of assumption will make or break your manifestations. break the habit of self-blame, self-hatred & comparing yourself to others & make the habit of self-trust, self-love & persisting through all circumstances.

even if your worst day comes to life : persist, persist & persist some more. you do not need to fall apart and crumble after a mishap, acknowledge the circumstance and let go...you have bigger & better things to worry about.

prl ✶⋆.˚

[megwritesriddles]

Like You Deserve ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sebastian (Stardew Valley) x Reader / You

Summary: Reader is left adrift after a disappointing relationship with Shane comes to an equally disappointing end, but Sebastian wants to show them how they deserved to be treated all this time.

Tags: Unprotected sex, Filming sex, Friends to lovers, Dirty talk, Past Shane/Reader, Reader was cheated on, Shane-bashing!! (sorry), Making ex jealous, SoftDom!Sebastian, Reader is as gender neutral as possible (I'm used to writing fem!reader so sorry if that shows)

Word count: 3.5k

all fandom masterlist | sdv masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: Based on a request by the lovely @i-live-in-spite ! Apologies for all the Shane bashing but... I had to for the story!!! Someone pls send help making the cover images for these sdv fics, it's so hard :00!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Things had been tense for a while between you and Shane. You could feel it, he’d started acting cold again from time to time, like back when you first met him, not the sweet guy that you had known for a couple of months there when everything seemed fine. You supposed it was just the end of the honeymoon phase, or maybe he was just in some sort of autumn funk, but you assumed it would blow over, he’d had bad days before, but this was just an extended one. Surely. But no. 

He’d been cheating on you. When you’d found the conversations on what he’d always told you was a ‘gridball discussion board’ online, you were floored. He’d begged and pleaded with you to forgive him, that he wouldn’t do it again, that he hadn’t even met them in person, but that made it all the worse. He threw away what he had with you, months of effort to get him to trust you, you ignoring everyone who said you were significantly out of his league, giving him kindness and understanding at every turn, for someone he hadn’t even met in person. He continued to plead with you to stay, that it was a mistake and you were better than anyone else, but you were too proud. You gathered what few things you had in his room and stomped out never to return. It hurt, badly, you had put so much time and effort into your relationship with him, an effort everyone told you that you’d been wasting. It seemed in the end, they’d been right all along.

Shane continued sending letters and trying to corner you in town, telling you how much he regretted what he did and how badly he needed you back. Deep down, you knew he only wanted you to come care for him again. You weren’t sure if he’d ever really loved you or if he’d merely used you. How can you cheat on someone you love? Every time he said he still loved you, the words felt more poisonous. He finally begins to leave you alone again after a while, pouting and glaring at you whenever you are nearby, trying his best to look pitiful so you might come crawling back. You couldn’t believe that this was the man you’d thought you’d loved.

A benefit of the end of your relationship was that you were spending more time with friends again, namely, male friends. Shane had always been deeply jealous and insecure, indirectly making you cut off all your male friends, always paranoid that you might choose them over him. What was the expression? Every accusation is a confession? Sam and Sebastian welcomed you back with open arms, not asking many questions, glad you were joining them for pool again. They could tell you were sad, especially the first few weeks, but opted to try to cheer you up rather than ask you about it. It was clear that it was over between you and Shane, and Sebastian couldn’t be more happy. 

He’d been planning to make a move on you back in spring, but your relationship had started with Shane and he was out in the cold, even as your friend. He understood though, he knew Shane was deeply jealous, so accepted your apologies and promises never to let someone come between the two of you again. He pays you special attention, letting you win at pool to cheer you up and buying you your favourite drinks, anything to wipe that sad look off your face. He’s occasionally intervened and demanded Shane to leave you alone, which only angers the man further, but he does stand down.

It’s one of those nights where he’s paying you special attention, he’d told Shane to ‘fuck off’ from glaring at you across the Saloon a few hours ago and was staying late with you to talk. He’d missed you a lot while you’d been hiding away from the world with Shane, you seemed so much lighter these days, you almost had a glow about you. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, a risky move which had paid off, listening to you talk on a tucked away couch, just the two of you. You were a little tipsy, not enough to be worrisome, but enough to have you rambling. You’d never really talked about what happened with Shane, but everyone knew it must have been something bad, based on how the two of you were acting. The leading theory in town was an argument about his drinking that couldn’t be solved, perhaps he had broken something while drunk. When you reveal to him that he’d been cheating, Sebastian’s jaw hangs open for a moment. Your cheeks flush and glance around nervously in his silence.

“He what?” Sebastian hisses. 

“They hadn’t even met in person it was just… chats–” you ramble, trying to play it down so Sebastian would stop looking at you like that.

“Still! I can’t believe his audacity! To cheat on you… he was insanely lucky you ever even gave him a second glance,” Sebastian scoffs. He’d always felt this way, but knowing what Shane had willingly thrown away, he feels wildly incensed, anger growing inside him. “No one deserves that but especially not you! You’re stunning and he’s… well, him,” he rolls his eyes, if he was a more violent man, he would go knock some sense into Shane with his fists, but he knew you would never approve of that, you were really too sweet for your own good. You blush and look down, shrugging.

“I don’t know about stunning…”

“You are,” he asserts, glancing over your lightly flushed cheeks and shy expression. “He’s a complete idiot for giving you up, seriously,”

“Well, at least he’s disappointing them in bed now, not me,” you giggle, quickly covering your mouth when you realise what you’ve said aloud, eyes widening. The wine you’d had really loosening your lips, letting things out you’d kept to yourself for too long, itching to gossip. Sebastian’s eyes also widen before letting out a bark of laughter, a smirk settling on his face.

“Damn, cold,” he teases, gently poking your arm to get you to lower your hand. He cups your chin between his fingers and tips your head up to look at him, relishing in the deepening of your blush. “He couldn’t please you?” You bite your lip and shyly shake your head.

“He didn’t try that hard… to be fair,” you try to defend, but you hear yourself and know it sounds weak, it’s hardly a defence, just a further indictment of him. Sebastian’s fingers tighten on your chin, anger coursing through him again. You had been an angel sent from heaven into his life and he hadn’t even tried to please you.

“He’s a piece of shit, to be fair, a total scumbag, you deserve everything,” Sebastian declares, his jaw tight. “He should have been giving you like… 5 orgasms a night, kissing the ground you walked on,” he huffs. You giggle at his hyperbole, though your blush deepens, not used to openly discussing stuff like this, especially not with Sebastian’s thumb rubbing your jaw so gently, his face hovering close to yours. You taste the words before he says them. “That’s what I would do if I had you… you would always be satisfied, always,” he purrs, another risky move but he’s willing to make it. You take a shaky breath and slip your eyes closed, your mind filled suddenly with images of Sebastian pleasing you. “I would never be stupid enough to let you go or hurt you, I’d treat you like you deserve,”

Your lips crash to his without thinking, and his hands instantly fall to your waist, tugging you closer. He hums in excitement, he’d been waiting for this for so long and here it was. You taste delicious, with a hint of the wine from earlier that evening and a sweetness that was entirely your own. He tilts his head to press closer to you, tugging you closer until your legs settle across his lap, one hand caressing your hip, the other moving up to your hair. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling the two of you chest to chest in desperation. You had never felt this way with Shane, pure electricity coursing through your veins, your tongues meeting in a sensual dance, swirling and caressing. 

“Let me please you,” he murmurs between kisses, hand sneaking onto your back beneath your shirt. “Let me show you what it can be like, let me give you what you deserve,” with a breathless nod, he’s lifting you to your feet and the two of you are leaving the Saloon hand in hand.

The way back to your farm is full of your tipsy giggling, his hands softly brushing up and down your body and frequent stops to kiss. You can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other as you press each other up against trees and fences to have another taste. When you finally arrive at your farm, you stumble through the door, lips still connected, hands fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Every cell in your body is on fire, you haven’t felt this amount of lust in a while, and all the sinful promises Sebastian had whispered against your mouth on your way here only made the anticipation grow. You pull him into the bedroom, stealing kisses as you go, which he returns with a smile. The eagerness surprises him in the best way, you seem totally obsessed with the idea of finding out what he can do for you, and he’s more than happy to show you. He pushes you down onto the bed, caging you in between his arms, hovering above you, moving his kisses down your jaw. The gasp that leaves your lips and that look in your eyes has his cock straining against his jeans. 

“So sexy, babe,” he growls, nipping your collarbone and placing a questioning hand on your stomach, just beneath your shirt. “Can I?” you nod, writhing beneath him. Your shirt is quickly shed and Sebastian looks over your chest with a clear look of arousal. “You’re so perfect, I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he kisses and nips all over your chest, playfully making his way down your stomach to hear your breath hitch. He won’t use his mouth now, he feels too desperate to be inside of you, but he’s sure he’ll be using his mouth a lot in the future if he has his way, which it seems like he will. You’re completely willing beneath him, so aroused, pupils blown wide, body flushed and chest heaving lightly. “Want me?” he asks teasingly, toying with the button of your jeans. You nod helplessly. “Where?” he prompts, feeling a little drunk on the power he has over you right now. You huff softly.

“Inside… please, Sebastian, don’t tease right now,” you pout and he chuckles, finding your expression delicious, he leans up and pecks your pouty lips with a smile. 

“Sorry babe, I want to be inside you too,” he cups your cheek, kissing you deeper for a moment, which you enthusiastically reciprocate. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises deeply, popping open your jeans as he nips your bottom lip, helping you wiggle out of them, discarding them by your bed. There’s a quiet metallic thud and you both disconnect to look down at the source of the noise. “Oh shit, sorry,” he mumbles, realising your phone had been in your pocket, hurriedly reaching down to lift it and place it on the bedside table before returning to your lips. 

“Guess you were too eager,” you tease playfully and he agrees with a hum, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, his fingers tracing the edges of your underwear. He is happy to pull back and lift his arms when you start to tug at his hoodie and then the t-shirt underneath, smug when you look over his torso admiringly, eyes dark with lust.

“Like what you see?” he teases, unbuttoning his jeans, imagining himself soon between your legs.

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “I do…” Not bothered to feel insecure, Sebastian strips his boxers with his jeans, eyes lighting up when your mouth falls open at the sight of him. “Wow…” He knows he’s well-endowed, but is flattered by your reaction, being even more sure now that he can show you a very good time. You lift your hips as he tugs down your underwear, eyes glued on his rock-hard twitching length. You’re incredibly flattered by how aroused he seems as he looks you over.

“So stunning, can’t wait to bury my cock in you,” he purrs, massaging your inner thighs. From the corner of his eye, he notices your phone lighting up but tries his best to ignore it. There were more important things on his mind. He smirks as your body reacts to his words. 

“Please,” you breathe. “I need it,” 

He doesn’t need asking twice, settling between your legs, carefully positioning himself and making sure you’re ready for him, but as you whine pleadingly, it’s harder to be cautious. Slowly, he begins to press into you, relishing the warmth of you around his cock, squeezing softly. You both throw your heads back in sync, letting out pleased sounds. You feel like the perfect fit, taking him in so perfectly like you were made for him. He glances down to make sure you’re okay, your chest heaving and little whimpers leaving your throat. 

“Are you okay babe?” he asks breathlessly, eyes darting to your phone for a moment as it lights up again. You nod and mewl, wrapping your legs around his hips to get him to move. He chokes out a groan as he finally bottoms out, twitching within you. He knew you’d be amazing, but he couldn’t anticipate this. How did you feel so good? It seemed almost inconceivable. How could anyone give this up? He braces himself, his hands on either side of your head, pecking your lips before beginning to slowly rock in and out of you. Your hands fly up to clutch his back, and he groans at the feeling, drinking in the moans you let out against his lips. “Does that feel good? Yeah?” he husks, speeding up a little as your reactions egg him on. 

“Y-yeah… oh!” you whimper, your mouth falling open as he speeds up, letting out a constant string of moans. He can hear in your voice just how good you feel and the thought arouses him impossibly more, you’re so enchanting, you drive him crazy. He raises himself a little more so he can look down at you as he thrusts in and out, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure. He grips your hips, lifting you so he can sit up and continue thrusting. The new angle makes you gasp, his name falling as a whine from your lips, which he affectionately returns, smoothing his hands over your body as he ravishes you. He can see your phone continuously lighting up on the nightstand and it’s driving him crazy. He halts for just a moment, met by a whimper of protest from you, to reach over, intending merely to turn over the phone but then noticing who is messaging you.

About ten messages from ‘Shane DON’T ANSWER’ flood onto your screen, including a missed call. Sebastian growls in anger. He remembers you mentioning how he wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how many times you’d asked and how you were considering just blocking his number at this point. You plead softly with Sebastian to continue, craning your head from your lying position to try and understand why he’d stopped moving. Several of the messages mention Sebastian himself, saying how someone had seen the two of you leaving the Saloon together, followed by several insecure accusations. Sebastian can’t help but scoff a laugh at his insolence, picking up your phone and opening it. You raise your brows under him.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly, watching as he taps through your phone, shifting your hips to try and get that delicious friction back. Sebastian bites his lip and his eyelids flutter, you feel like heaven, and he hates himself for stopping, for depriving the both of you, but he has an idea. He opens your messages, seeing days of Shane talking to himself in your messages, switching between begging and anger. That man was so pathetic, he couldn’t understand what you’d ever seen in him.

“Don’t worry, just lie there for me, babe,” he smirks, opening the camera attached to the messaging app and scrolling to the video function. You’re shifting your hips in search of pleasure again, and it looks so sexy through the camera, watching himself disappear inside of you. He groans loudly, clicking the record button on the screen. The flash comes on in the dim light, alerting you to what’s going on, and your brows fly up. He shushes you by placing a finger to his lips, beginning to thrust into you once more. All your protests die on impact, melting into a choked moan. Sebastian watches, enraptured as he slides in and out of you through the camera, grunting and speeding up, struggling to keep the camera steady when all he wants to do is completely lose himself in you once more. He can hear the steady slap of skin on skin and a mixture of both of your moans. The thought of sending this to Shane, claiming you away from him finally, makes him feel feral, and he thrusts into you even faster and harder than before. He tilts the camera up to show your face, and though obscured by your arm thrown over your eyes, it’s clear who it is. You whine over and over, your lips parted in pleasure. “Yeah? Fuck… tell me how good it feels,” he grunts.

“So good Seb…” you whine lewdly, stretching out the words, shaky with every thrust he gives you. The fact you’ve said his name sends a powerful jolt through his body and he pounds into you harder, making you shout out in ecstasy. He was showing you pleasure you’d never felt before, you’d been a little sceptical at the start of the evening, but now you knew you were never going back, he was hitting some spot within you that had you seeing stars, a spot you hadn’t even known you had, touching it again and again, leaving you in heaven. The fact he was filming you… excited you more than it should have, you couldn’t help imagining what it might look like. 

“That’s it, babe, cum for me, yeah… show how much you love it, fuck… you look so sexy,” he husks, pounding into you relentlessly, no longer focused on the camera, staring down at you hungrily. It’ll be clear what’s happening anyway. His free hand is all over you, squeezing and caressing as he continues thrusting with all his might, feeling you tightening around him, your moans increasing in volume. “Yes… that’s it,”

“Seb!” you wail, your legs shaking violently around his hips, pleasure exploding behind your eyes, more intense than you had felt, possibly ever. The knowledge you’re being filmed only heightens the experience tenfold, tingles running up and down your body, a warm syrupy feeling settling in your lower stomach. He whispers soothing praises as you spasm around his cock, making him choke on his words occasionally, still softly thrusting into you. You gasp for breath, still moaning with each aftershock that courses through you. In this calmer moment, Sebastian fumbles with your phone, shakily typing out a caption for the vulgar clip he just captured. 

“Don’t text again, we’re busy,” he types, though a little inaccurately in his aroused haze. The message is still clear. He presses send, makes sure it’s gone to Shane and then tosses your phone aside, noticing it already beginning to blow up with messages from him. Your cheeks are burning as you look up at the cocky smile on Sebastian’s face.

“I can’t believe I just let you do that,” you giggle breathlessly as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, still giving you a moment to compose yourself, though remaining inside of you. “I’ll probably regret it in the morning,”

“Nah, babe, you looked so hot, it’s his fault for giving you up,” Sebastian assures, leaning down to peck your lips. You smile and kiss back.

“I felt hot, but still… it’s not exactly something I’m used to,”

“Me neither, but it was sexy as hell, maybe we should do it more often,” he smiles, tucking a few kisses under your jaw. 

“Oh? You think we’ll do this again?” you tease. He grins against your skin, moving back up to hover over you, beginning to ever-so-slowly thrust into you once more, making you gasp. He growls playfully. 

“Oh yes… you deserve so much more pleasure, babe, and I intend to give it to you,”

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