Levi's Regrets In Manga 136 - LeviHan's IF

🎉I made this for you b/c you deserve a party!!!! 🎉

I love Marc Spector catches you trying on lingerie. So... what might have happened w/ Steven or Jake? Another surprise? More lingerie? Less lingerie *wiggles eyebrows at you*???

Steven Catches You Trying on Lingerie

AHHHHH!!! Take all my money so all the Moon boys will give me special messages! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! Look at you linking my fic like a pro

Oooh, ok, so there's a little about Steven + lingerie in Moon Boys' Kinks <- which I sort of used as the basis of thought for what you see below...

nsfw below the cut - sensual and suggestive but no actual smut Steven Grant x gn!reader who likes lingerie (Read Marc's part above, in the ask) Word Count: 754

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You snap a few pictures of your new lingerie in the mirror, satisfied by the way the fabric hugs your curves. With a sigh, you toss your phone on the bed and pout for a second, wishing you didn't have to wait until date night to reveal your surprise.

Then a thought tickles the corner of your mind. Steven actually sends dirty texts all the time, but that's usually what they are - texts. Words.

You imagine him working hard at the museum, leading a tour or sitting in his shared office doing some research and you giggle to yourself as you try to envision his face when he sees you in this brand new sensuous outfit.

Without another moment of debate, you grab your phone and swipe to the most scandalous pose before dropping it into Steven's text thread, adding 'Got a surprise for you' underneath.

Thirty-seven minutes later, you hear the front door deadbolt turn. You haven't even bothered to change out of your lingerie yet - tying a robe around yourself instead.

Determined footsteps clomp toward your bedroom, the thought never crossing your mind that they don't belong to Marc.

Steven's hair is a mess - clearly he's pushed his fingers through it one too many times on the train ride home. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted as he draws heavy breaths, eyes dark and hooded...

and zeroed in on the curves of your body.

"Bit naughty of you to send me that picture while I'm giving a tour to primary school students," he husks, peeling off his jacket and stalking toward you.

"What are you doing home?" you gasp out with mock innocence.

Long fingers find the tie of your robe and he yanks it loose, swiping his tongue over his lips as the very lingerie you teased him with appears.

Shifting from one foot to the other, his smoldering eyes rove hungrily from your collarbone, over each curve, all the way down to the center of you. Ever mesmerized by beauty and softness, he swallows thickly, his own desire stirring to life as he forces himself to wait before devouring you with his mouth and hands.

"Surprise," you whisper, shrugging the robe all the way off your shoulders and striking a simple but effective pose meant to highlight the best features of the lingerie, and your body.

Dropping to his knees, he tosses his hair out of his eyes, peering up at you through endlessly long lashes. Squeezing his hands into fists, he fights every urge pulsing, inviting him to trace the soft, sexy fabric that has you on display like this.

But he knows to wait.

"You're so good to me, Steven," you praise, carding a hand through his curls, inching gently toward him. "Got you something soft to play with."

"Gods, love," he chokes, forehead nuzzling your stomach as he struggles to keep his hands in place by his sides.

"Do you like it?" You murmur, using the grip on his thick hair to turn his face up to yours.

"Yes," he pants, nodding, despite your grip on him. "Oh god, yes. Please, I..."

"You want to touch me, baby?" You purr, stepping a little closer until his cheek rests against your soft abdomen. "Will you make me feel good?"

"So good, darling," he promises, his voice already wrecked as he tries to wait for your lead. "Won't stop until you make me."

You hum out a satisfied moan, nodding once, indicating that he can touch. Stretching out his fingers, he brushes your bare thighs temptingly, heavy breaths falling where his head stills rests against your stomach.

Seeing this beautiful man on his knees for you already has you stirring with raw want.

One agonizing inch at a time, he seems to return the favor, making you wait for the impending bliss that's sure to follow this display of restraint.

"So pretty like this," he whispers, finding the hem fitted over your hip bone. "Wonder how long it might take me to unwrap you like a present."

Now it is you shifting in anticipation, aching for his expert caress to find the center of you.

"Think I'll leave this on you while I make you come for me." His eyes flicker up to yours as he touches right where you want. Breath rushes out of you as he starts to pleasure you. "Would you like that, darling?"

"Yes, Steven, please..."

There it is. Once he turns the tables on you, there's no stopping him. This is gonna be fun.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration

Originally from Moon Knight Asks

Steven Grant-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

okay i have seen so many superwholock posts about how they’re the ‘crazy fandom’ and like ????? have you even met the snk fandom because

(they cosplay bungee jump like good luck topping that)

yeah ur faves could never bye

After the Plan Paris? Then we immediately begin Plan Rome.

reciprocation

part 1 | part 3

pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader

cw: smut (18+), fwb relationship, PWP, face sitting, mutual-pining but their idiots so..., 69, cumming untouched, cum eating.

w/c: 3.4k of SMUT AHHH

a/n: ignore how this is suddenly typed with capital letters :0. THIS ONE IS FOR MY FAVORITE STEVEN ANON WITH THE 69 REQUEST FROM A MONTH AGO -- i'm sorry it took so long 🫠

also special shout out for @whatthefishh for reading over it like half-a-month ago 😭🙏🏻 i was going through a major writers block :^)

masterlist

----

“Are you sure about this?” You watch him warily from a few feet away, shifting from side to side.

Steven is laid back on the bed patiently waiting for you, hair fluffy and soft under him. You can tell he’s been thinking about this for a while now, eager to start. 

His voice is soft as he appraises the timid energy surrounding you, “I’m sure. I want it–you. I promise.” For once, Steven seems to be the least nervous between the two of you. You're not used to him being in charge or even initiating anything remotely affectionate, let alone sexual. “Do…you?”

You can already see the prominent outline of his erection pressing sweetly against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. No matter how loose and comfortable he dresses, he can never manage to hide his need for you. 

“I do, but I just… don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You wring your hands together, still unsure if you should approach him. 

Steven looks at you with trusting eyes, “You won’t hurt me, darling.” His comforting words help you relax a little, almost making you forget what you agreed to, what you’re so apprehensive to attempt. He offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you closer and guide you onto his lap.

His voice lowers as desire drips from his lips, “Though, even if you did,” His dark eyes look up to meet yours, pure need bleeding through the gaze. You eagerly drink it in, body buzzing on top of him with flustered energy. “I think I’d be okay with it…” Your breath hitches.

You know it’s true. Steven has never shied away from pain; he even invites it in the heat of the moment. He likes to be under your control, letting you use his body to drive him crazy, even if it means teasing and denying him until he’s sobbing under you.

He loves seeing the possessive marks you leave when he wakes up in the morning, fingers ghosting over them as the night before replays in his mind, or feeling the residual sting of scratches down his torso when he takes a shower, letting the warm water draw out the sensations until he’s hard and aching for you again, and he has to seek you out, hoping you'll notice him.

You regularly get carried away, so desperate to have all of him, that you don’t even realize how intensely you devour his eagerness to please you. But Steven is more than happy to indulge your hungry advances.

He especially loves it when you soothe him after, lightly kissing each bruise and mark as you whisper sweet words, apologizing for how rough you got.

He takes it with a shy smile, basking in your affections and your gentle touch, sighing as he’s surrounded by your energy, by your undivided attention. 

Sometimes he likes to pretend like you're his, like you're doing this because you love him, not because you think you're being a good friend.

It's not hard for him to imagine it when he closes his eyes, especially when you're moaning around his cock or grabbing his neck to pull him into a desperate kiss.

But when it's all over, when he's pulling his jeans back on -- still thrumming with heat -- the spell breaks and you go back to being just friends.

Now, he's going to pleasure you. Make you feel the euphoria of his mouth, so you'll want him just as much as he wants you. This is his form of reciprocation for all the favors you've given him. And he hopes it will convince you that he'd be a good lover for you. That you could be more than just friends with him.

He lets out a hushed, “Please,” as he leans into you, enticing you to follow him and capture his lips hungrily.

Steven knows exactly what he’s doing when he uses that tone, that soft shade of himself that can bring you to your knees even when he’s falling apart harder and faster than you are. 

You moan against his pouty lips, feeling the softness, his gentle press, you pull him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. He lets you have control over him, merely following you as you slide your tongue against his, delicately tasting you, tenderly holding you by your waist.

Steven is always gentle with you, no matter how clouded his mind gets during these heated moments, no matter how lost in pleasure he gets or how desperately he needs you, he always handles you with delicate care.

You nip at his bottom lip, drinking in his soft mewl as you start to roll your hips against him. His grip on your waist tightens, holding you more insistently against him, letting you feel how desperately he needs you.

His lips are pink and plump when you pull away, parted ever so slightly as he stares between your bodies, working your body over him. His eyes are glazed as he cants his hips to chase the exquisite feeling of your soft center against him.

You tease him, lifting yourself just enough that he can’t grind himself against you. He whines when he can’t feel you anymore, gripping your waist with frustration.

“Love, please!”

You break the kiss and climb off of him, appreciating how ruined he looks from a few kisses and light grinding. He huffs out a breath in frustration, hands fisting with the need to touch you. To have you close.

You stand next to the bed, hair in disarray, fiddling with the hem of your large shirt to garner his attention. His bronze gaze soaks over you, flashing dark when it meets the short hem of your pajama bottoms.

“Your shorts, p-please, take them off.” It’s not a demand, Steven doesn’t make demands, it’s a request, a plea, one that you’ve heard time and time again, and have seldom refused. 

Your fingers find the waistband of your shorts and drag them down until they’re pulled the rest of the way off with the help of gravity. A breathy sigh can be heard under you when you step away from the pooled clothing, leaving you in an oversized t-shirt that barely brushes at the top of your thighs. 

It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time – he’s always like this.

His eyes sparkle as you shuffle closer to the bed. “Come’ere, darling.” He pats his chest, “Right here.” You timidly crawl over him, delicately straddling his chest, legs parted just above his ribs. Your knees pull in towards each other, trying to hide what your shirt can’t cover, but you don’t get far before warm fingers pry you apart. 

“Show me.” It’s a bare whisper, as light as his touch gliding over the outer sides of your legs.

You reluctantly let yourself relax on him, hands gripping his soft shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Heat prickles under your skin as he cranes his neck to look at you, lashes nearly brushing the tops of his cheeks with how lustfully heavy his eyelids are. He takes that moment to breathe you in, devouring every inch of what you’re offering. 

His touch disappears from your thighs, and you hear quiet ruffling behind you, then a broken groan under you. You look over your shoulder and spot his hand pressing desperately against his covered hardness. 

“S-Steven…” He doesn’t stop his actions when he meets your eyes, utterly shameless with his need for you. 

“Beautiful.” 

His breaths become heavy, and his chest moves deliciously under you, right against your hot center. You attempt to squeeze your legs together, hoping to abate the intensifying sensations, but you can’t, his chest keeps you spread, open, and quivering just for his eyes. 

Steven is barely touching you, but even the slightest hint of pleasure has you craving him.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you subtly shift over him, drinking in his soft grunts as he continues to touch himself under you. It makes you throb with heat. 

Steven watches you suck your lip into your mouth to hold in wanton moans as you experimentally slide against his firm chest, hands pressing into him to support your movements.

Your initial timidness crumbles as you roll your hips over him again and your head tilts back as you begin to lose yourself in the way your clit presses so perfectly against him.

Steven’s gentle voice cuts through the carnal fog infesting your brain and pulls you back to reality. “Sit up higher for me.” His hands are back on you, urging you to scoot up. “Let me taste you – L-let me fuck you with my tongue.” You press your dripping center to his shirt-covered torso with a soft moan, feeling the small spot right in between his ribs where you’ve soaked through. “Please, baby?”

You nod wordlessly, letting him guide your body until you’re hovering over his face. Your body shivers as you feel his warm breath brush against your center. 

It’s a bit daunting looking at Steven from here. His face is nestled right in between your thighs – which is not an unusual sight – but this time you are on top. You can barely see his eyes since your shirt is so big it practically drapes over half of his face. What if you suffocate him or break his neck?

“Maybe… we should rethi-” A gasp falls from your lips as strong arms pull you down to his face. “Steven!-” Without hesitation, wet heat laps at the seam of your cunt, greedily dragging over any slick that threatens to drip down your inner thigh. 

Your words are effectively stuck in your throat as Steven begins to eagerly nip and suck at your softness, drawing out deep whines instead of coherent sentences. You can only hold on to the headboard to support yourself, holding back your urge to grind against his supple lips. 

You moan as Steven tentatively nudges against your entrance, laving his tongue over the sensitive opening just to tease you. When he finally pushes into you, you have to hold yourself back from grinding against him like you’re riding his cock. He licks and thrusts his tongue into you, humming at your taste as you drip over his lips, down his chin. 

Your hips uncontrollably buck against him as his tongue flicks at your clit. A hand drops into his hair, tugging frantically at the ends before pushing him further against you, begging – no, demanding for more. He gets the memo and focuses on your most sensitive bud, delicately suckling it until your thighs are trembling by his ears. 

A ball of heat quickly blooms in your lower stomach and flushes under your skin. Familiar sparks of energy thrum up your spine, enticing you to clench around nothingness with promises of unspoken bliss and ecstasy. 

Calloused fingers lift you away from the molten heat of his mouth just as you were reaching your climax. You’re gasping for a breath as Steven holds you back from toppling off the edge. 

You can feel it, his breath, barely ghosting a sigh over your center, and somehow, even that slightest brush of air has you pulsing helplessly over him. He’s breathing as hard as you are, mouth glossy and plump as he stares back up at you, face flushed, and eyes glazed. 

Utterly pussy-drunk. 

Your grip on the headboard tightens intensely and your eyes roll shut. You can’t stop it. 

A stilted cry rips from your throat as your orgasm suddenly rushes over you in full force, crashing over you like a wave. Steven can only watch, lips parted in awe, as you shatter completely untouched right above him.

His fingers grip harsh bruises into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself throb dangerously close to his own euphoric end. You moan harder at the tender marks he paints on your trembling legs. The sharp feeling travels up your legs and straight to your center.

His hands rub your thighs comfortingly, apologetically, before he starts to drag his tongue over your messy center with a hum, doting on you with kitten licks that make you shiver. 

He cleans you up slowly and methodically, making sure to avoid your most sensitive area. Your body still thrums from your unexpected and intense orgasm, and his soft licks quickly become too much, even with how light and sweet he is being. 

You lift yourself away from his tongue, “S-steven…no more. It’s too much!” 

“You can do it again, darling…” He coos, trying to pull you back down onto his mouth. “Just one more. For me, please?” 

You're head is fuzzy as you steady yourself on top of him, gripping the headboard tightly to ground yourself from the lingering sparks of mind-numbing pleasure.

Steven groans as he watches you struggle to get a grip.

“C-can’t. It’s too much…” You get off of his face and sit next to him on the bed, squeezing your legs together to suppress the bout of overstimulation that almost overtook your senses.

You look down at him when one of his hands wraps around your thigh and squeezes, a simple act indulgence that drives you crazy. Your lips part as you take in the view. 

Puffy lips and glassy eyes, blown out with lust, meet your stare, begging you to climb back on, but you're still shaking where you sit. He's drenched in your slick from his chin to his neck and the collar of his shirt is soaked through, sticking sweetly to his chest.

Your eyes drift down to his sweatpants, to the prominent bulge that throbs under your gaze. He palms himself, whining lightly at the feeling of his neediness and desperation. He's so hard, begging for your touch without even saying a word.

“Okay, now it's your turn.”

His shakes his head, “No, I want more.”

“Steven…”

“Please, I want to taste more of you."

"But--" Your eyes dip down to his covered erection that you've been neglecting all night.

"Just...come back, we can do it at the same time if you want.” 

Your face heats at the implication. You don’t know why you’re so coy, you just came right above his fact. You've just never seen Steven like this: so insistent and hungry.

“S-sure, ok.”

You whimper when he eagerly tugs you closer, urging you to straddle his face again. Careful to not knock your knee into his cheek, you swing your leg back over his body, but this time you situate yourself so you can take care of him at the same time.

He immediately dives back in, tongue thrusting into your sensitive channel before you're even settled on top of him. You falter and almost collapse over him, hand grasping at the bottom of his shirt for support.

"Steven! Gentle, please!" You groan out, eyes already threatening to roll back as he continues to drink you in. He hums in response, but doesn't actually let up, if anything, he becomes more insatiable, suckling every stimulus point until you're shaking above him.

You struggle against your pleasure to pull his sweats down, freeing his cock from the restraining fabric. Your mouth waters as his tip weeps for you, spilling silky precum with every breath he takes.

You've always loved Steven's cock. How responsive it is when your breath ghosts over it and how it desperately throbs for you as you swallow around him. How perfectly it fits in your mouth and how deep it can fuck your throat when he allows himself to let go.

Sucking his cock was the furthest you allowed yourself to go. You convinced yourself that these one-sided interactions would keep you from revealing your feelings, that you could deal with the friends-with-benefits bit if you didn't have an actual 'relationship'.

So you deemed actual sex as too intimate and barred letting him touch you (you just weren't sure you could handle it).

But then one thing led to another...

You failed to reject his soft kisses and couldn't resist marking him up like he's yours. And now here you are barely able to handle it as he fucks you with his tongue, hands gripping marks into your thighs as his nose nudges against your wet center.

You don't know if you could go back to just being friends when he's given you unfathomable pleasure. When he talked to you like this. Looked at you like this.

You're a mess and you're struggling to hold on to your original plan.

You try to block these thoughts from your mind as your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing it gently just to get a reaction out of him. He groans against your cunt, movements stuttered as your touch distracts him away from his task.

You unconsciously sit up on your knees and lift your hips off of his mouth to get closer to his cock. Steven barely notices, too focused on holding his orgasm off as you diligently taste him, one lick at a time.

You drag your tongue up his shaft, licking the precum that slowly cascades over his silken skin. You feel his body quake as you lave and kitten lick against his tip, gently coaxing shortened breaths and whimpers with every touch.

You dip down to engulf him into your hot mouth, enjoying the slick feeling of his cock gliding easily against your tongue and the top of your mouth.

His hands frantically latch onto your upper thighs, unintentionally pulling you back onto his mouth as he squeezes at the softness, desperately attempting to control himself.

He has to actively keep his hips from snapping against your face, you just feel so sublime, so soft and hot.

Steven cries against your cunt when he reaches the back of your throat. He can't help it when he feels you struggle to swallow around him, so tight, wet, and hot. He's just so sensitive -- especially when it comes to you.

You keep laving your tongue against the underside of his cock as you suck him in, ignoring the your jaw begins to ache as you open wide for him.

"Uhh!" His stomach tenses under you and he twitches against your tongue.

He can't be cumming already...right?

Fingers grip into your hair and you're suddenly pushed down, forced to take him down your throat. You choke slightly, eyes watering, before letting yourself relax against him.

He's lost in pleasure, grinding and thrusting his cock into your mouth like it's your cunt, shoving it deeper than you're usually comfortable with and you let him.

Steven spurts warmth at the back of your throat. You try your best to swallow it down before it dribbles from your mouth and makes a mess. He whimpers as he fully lets go, thighs tense and trembling under your touch.

He's still cumming when he tugs you back onto his mouth, feverishly lapping through your center before taking your clit between his lips. You orgasm explosively as he avidly sucks you in, already half-way there from the mere feeling of him spilling in your mouth.

Even after he has emptied himself, he continues to gently fuck your face, not yet ready to leave your warmth. His hips stutter and his breaths become uneven but he ignores the overstimulation, too attached to this closeness, to this illusion of mutual affection.

He also continues to lick you clean, despite your whines of discomfort. He lovingly places gentle kisses against your inner thigh, wishing he could stay in this position forever.

He huffs out disappointedly when you climb off of him, even tries to lock his arms around your legs to keep you there, but you were adamant to get away from his insatiable mouth.

"One more?"

You gape at him, "Steven, we already did 'one more'." You shiver, suddenly cold without his body against yours. "What has gotten into you? I've never seen you so...horny before."

He looks at you sheepishly, "I dunno. I guess, once I got a taste I wanted more." He sits up, hand wiping your slick off his face. "How 'bout later?"

"You're already thinking about later?"

He nods, "I'm always thinking about you."

Your heart thumps painfully in your chest as blood heats your face. You try to ignore it. Try not to look directly at him. Try to pretend like he didn't just say that because he probably doesn't even understand the impact that his words have on you.

He's always thinking about your favors. That's it.

"Later, then."

Scenes from a Marriage with Jessica Chastain & Oscar Isaac

HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNDERTALE ❤

(and also... Deltarune too? xD)

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 1x05 - "Everybody Wants to Be My Enemy" ↳ "I couldn't have done it without you."

Walter have you made a shield yet? You're gonna wanna make a shield before you go into that cave Walter. Those skeletons are going make easy pickings of you without a shield I've seen it time and time again

Ogni volta che la politica manda a effetto una operazione contro la classe operaia, i primi a gioirne o, “meglio”, i primi a dare manifestazioni esteriori della loro contentezza non sono i “pezzi grossi”, commissari di polizia od ufficiali delle regie guardie o dei carabinieri, ma sono i più umili agenti, i più modesti carabinieri, l’ultima delle guardie regie. Sono cioè gli agenti del governo usciti dalle file del proletariato più arretrato, costretti a questo passo dalla miseria o dalla speranza di trovare, abbandonando il campo o l’officina, una vita migliore, dalla persuasione di divenire qualche cosa di più di un povero contadino relegato in un paesetto sperduto fra i monti, di un manovale abbruttito dal quotidiano lavoro d’officina. Questa gente odia, dopo averne disertato le file, la classe lavoratrice con un accanimento che supera ogni immaginazione. “Ecco le armi”, urlò trionfante non so se un agente investigativo od un carabiniere in borghese, scoprendo una rivoltella durante la perquisizione all’ “Ordine Nuovo”. E rimase stupito, spiacente che nonostante tutta la buona volontà non si riusciva a trovare nulla di compromettente per il nostro giornale. all’ “Ordine Nuovo”. E rimase stupito, spiacente che nonostante tutta la buona volontà non si riusciva a trovare nulla di compromettente per il nostro giornale. all’ “Ordine Nuovo”. E rimase stupito, spiacente che nonostante tutta la buona volontà non si riusciva a trovare nulla di compromettente per il nostro giornale. Pochi minuti dopo, un altro agente udendo uno scambio di parole tra il commissario ed un nostro redattore, esclamò: : “Finiremo per arrestarli tutti! Li arresteremo tutti!” A questo pensiero la sua bocca si aprì ad un riso tanto cattivo da sbalordire chiunque non sia abituato a questo genere di fratellanza umana. Ho compreso allora perché nelle caserme e nei posti di polizia, carabinieri, guardie regie ed agenti gareggino nel bastonare gli operai arrestati, nel rallegrarsi delle loro torture. E’ un odio di lunga data. Gli agenti dello Stato addetti al mantenimento dell’ordine pubblico sentono attorno a sé il disprezzo che tutta la classe lavoratrice ha per i rinnegati, per quelli che sono passati nell’altro campo, per i mercenari che impegnano ogni loro energia per soffocare qualsiasi movimento del proletariato. E al disprezzo del proletariato s’aggiunge quello di gran parte della borghesia che guarda con occhio diffidente tutta rinnegati questa puzza di questura. Perché? Perché questa è la sorte di tutti i mercenari: al disprezzo e all’odio degli avversari s’aggiunge quasi sempre il disprezzo dei padroni. Ed è naturale, è umano che nell’animo di questa gente mal pagata, che non sempre riesce a procurarsi quanto occorre per una vita piena di stenti e di privazioni e che si sente circondata da una barriera che la divide dagli altri uomini, che la mette quasi fuori dalla società, germogli l’odio, metta radici la crudeltà: odio contro quelli che prima erano i fratelli, i compagni di lavoro e che ora disprezzano con maggior forza, crudeltà che si esplica contro di essi sotto mille forme diverse. Così, arrestare un operaio è una gioia, un trionfo, bastonarlo e malmenarlo, una festa, rinchiuderlo in carcere una rivincita. Solo nel momento in cui essi tengono un uomo fra le mani e sanno di poter disporre della sua libertà, della sua incolumità, sentono di possedere una forza che in qualche momento della vita li rende superiori ai loro simili. La gioia di acciuffare un uomo non proviene dalla consapevolezza di servire la legge, di difendere l’integrità dello Stato: è una piccola bassa soddisfazione personale, è la gioia di poter dire: “Io sono più forte”. Quale altra gioia possono essi provare? Quanti di essi sono in grado di formarsi una famiglia senza che la vita di stenti diventi vita di patimenti? Non è forse vero che a molti di questi transfughi del proletariato la vita non riserva altre soddisfazioni che qualche umile offerta di una passeggiatrice notturna in cerca di protezione?

Noi li abbiamo visti pochi giorni or sono nella nostra redazione. Moltissimi, dall’abito, potevano benissimo essere scambiati per operai in miseria. E’ certo che erano umilmente, più che umilmente vestiti non solo per introdursi tra gli operai, per raccoglierne i discorsi, per spiarli, ma anche perché non potrebbero fare diversamente. E guardavano con gli operai veri, quelli che si dibattono tra la reazione e la fame e cercano affannosamente la via della liberazione. Essi comprendevano, sentivano che chi lotta è sempre superiore a chi serve. E quando hanno ammanettato i giovani che difendevano il giornale del loro partito il giornale della loro classe, il loro giornale, gli agenti hanno avuto un lampo di trionfo, hanno riso. Ma non era un riso spontaneo, giocondo. Era un riso a cui erano costretti dalla rabbia, dal disprezzo degli altri, dalla loro vita, dal destino a cui non potevano sottrarsi. Quel riso era la smorfia di Gwynplaine.

(A.Gramsci “L’Ordine Nuovo”, 30 agosto 1921)

eurofans rn: