#like literally when I think about it I just cannot fathom it

[freedarick]

If I love and appreciate people, why in the hell cannot I believe that I can also be loved and appreciated??

[tardis--dreams]

There's silverfish in this apartment so the only chance for my body to get some rest would be collapsing from exhaustion otherwise i will not sleep for a While

[girlwiththegreenhat]

tell me you've never had to use skype without telling me you've never had to use skype: you complain about discord

[timeisacephalopod]

The annoying part of dealing with any kind of aphobia is that no one even understands what it is to understand how they just hurt you. Like people understand homophobia and how it's hurtful, but those same people will say literally the most fucked up aphobic shit to your face and when you gently explain how that's offensive to X aspec group they just fuckin stare at you like a goldfish in a bowl confused as to why you're acting like they should respond with something, anything, but confused silence that they'd never have if someone told them they'd just said something wildly homophobic.

Like even generally progressive people do this and it's like for god's sake could you use your head for five minutes and think to yourself if gays don't like homophobia maybe aspec people react the same way to that aphobic rhetoric I just spent several minutes explaining only to have it still go over your head.

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

[drchucktingle]

this was a comment on one of my post from a recent live event. it was photos of joyful queer buckaroos celebrating together and proving love is real through creation, community, and a trot of love. most important I AM LITERALLY IN PHOTO AS A REAL FLESH AND BLOOD HUMAN

it got me thinking about how DEEP AND VICIOUS the irony poisoning of these early internet communities goes. the way buds like this cannot fathom someone just being a sincere person unrelated to their OWN old days of cynical posting. it is fascinating, and i will admit, sad too

despite a DECADE of work, countless live events, 350 tinglers written well before large language models were a thing, there are still people who cannot imagine someone like me could exist. it is a strange place to be. not just part of me, but my entire EXISTENCE is often gatekept

it is easy to say ‘well chuck your art IS strange’ but honestly i think it is more than that. magical realism is common. there are stories about dinosaurs and bigfeet and unicorns. this scoundrel reaction is about two unspoken things: my art is neurodivergent, and my art is queer

heres the thing: I WILL BE FINE. what concerns me is not an issue of MYSELF, it is a concern for the other young outsider buckaroos who see comments like this one and think ‘is that what they will say if i express MY unique way? will i be dehumanized like this at every turn?'

i will be honest, i cannot say that WONT happen, but i CAN say this: for as deep as this irony poisoning goes, it is slowly dying. the way i was treated at the start of my career is LIGHTYEARS DIFFERENT from the way i am treated now. there is a massive shift towards sincerity

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY. to young artists trotting up, the things that i am harassed over and doubted for and made fun of for are NOT tangental to what has made me successful, THEY ARE LITERALLY THE SAME THINGS THAT HAVE MADE ME SUCCESSFUL. YES I AM STRANGE, WHAT OF IT?

the things that you tuck away for fear of a review that says ‘there is a PROBLEM with this art because it has always been done another way’ THOSE ARE YOUR SUPERPOWERS. the gatekeepers want you to tuck those parts of yourself away because THEY TUCKED AWAY THOSE PART OF THEMSELVES

never forget that your unique way is PURE UNFILTERED 100 PERCENT ROCKET FUEL. it will stick out (maybe, if you are lucky, scoundrels will even say that someone like you could never actually be real), but sticking out isnt so bad when you are waving the flag of love.

in fact, when youre waving the flag of love, sticking out is pretty dang cool. what are flags for, after all? LOVE IS REAL BUCKAROOS. thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this long post then please consider preordering BURY YOUR GAYS.

LETS TROT

[fairuzfan]

Scrolling through a blog because I remember them being pointed out as Zionists a while back and then I found this post about standing together where the tags are FILLED with non-Palestinians calling BDS performative and shit like yeah I'm aware they fought the israelis at the border of Gaza to let aid in but by the time BDS had come out with the condemnation of standing together, they WERENT doing that. They were just talking. They didn't do SHIT when bds put out that condemnation. Now that they're finally doing something (too little too late btw) you wanna take this as a chance to yell at BDS?? Do you guys think it's appropriate to tell Palestinian orgs what they're doing correctly or incorrectly based on your own viewpoints??

"They work to deradicalize israelis so they use a specific vocabularly" I want you to know that Palestinians have been using that vocabulary for 75 years. No they're not doing something new. They're doing the same thing our elders have been doing for generations. And do you know what we learned from that? That israelis hate our guts more than you can fathom.

If standing together had FROM THE START done shit to help Palestinians in tangible ways, I wouldn't be saying anything. But they didn't. They JUST started a couple months ago with their efforts at the Gaza crossing so now you want to moralize and say "at least they're doing something"??? By all means they should continue doing this, I'm not telling them to stop but the way this post is just so rude... bds initiatives are widely supported by most Palestinians around the world (and yet we criticize it still, obviously) so you all have absolutely no reason to take this as a chance to diss it if youre not palestinian.

You guys actually need to stomp this shit out from your posts why the fuck are you all letting this happen. Bds has been around for longer than standing together and DOES help Palestine by making it clear that companies building on west bank territories (which the companies are owned by ISRAEL not Palestinians) will not be bought from or supported, meaning that they withdraw their contracts to put the israeli government in a monetary bind.

Also you all talk about "israeli deradicalization" as if we are at a point in time where deradicalization is the goal. We know people in '48 and the West Bank and Gaza. Like sorry but that is not what we are thinking about right now! Slow change might have been useful a while ago, but we literally cannot afford slow change right now.

That is to say I really don't care that much about standing together despite what it may seem. They do not occupy my mind nearly as much as i talk about them. I'm just astounded that you guys are giving them money when you can be donating to Palestinians in Gaza directly.

Also I was right, silverfox66 is a zionist so. Don't reblog them.

[how2loa]

HOW2LOA : ignore the 3D !

you have heard coaches tell you to ignore the 3D time and time again but you just can’t seem to be able to ignore the fact that the money isn’t in your bank account yet or that your physical appearance isn’t changing? we’ve all been there. let me help you!

be confident about your decision! say your affirmations with conviction. convince yourself that your visualization is real. if you affirm for ten minutes and then ask why is it not here yet i still see my circumstances well guess what? you’re just reaffirming that your circumstances exist.

literally pretend they’re not there. but if you choose to acknowledge them, think about it this way. why would they even bother you when you know you’re getting everything you want? the whole situation will turn out in your favor anyway so why would you bother worrying about 3D circumstances when you know how the ending will be. its like knowing a secret everyone else doesn’t know.

you don’t have to make yourself feel crazy or feel delusional like you’re lying to yourself, but if you know that you staying consistent with thinking as if and ignoring your circumstances will make them disappear then why wouldn’t you just do that? be patient and stay discipled, if you don’t have it you’re not done. keep thinking as if.

i know that sometimes we are faced with circumstances that we cannot ignore like having to pay a bill. i think what we often get mixed up when we hear the phrase “ignore the 3D” is that we think we have to ignore all circumstances and responsibilities in real life. NO! what you are affirming in your head, does not have to match what you are physically doing in real life. if you want to manifest being a millionaire, going out and shopping like one when you’re earning minimum wage and have bills to pay will get you in debt! do whatever you need to do in the 3D and while doing it, just affirm against it in your head. why would you quit your job to live as if you’re a millionaire when you’re still depending on that job for income in your 3D? that will just stress you out even more because you’re now depending on your manifestation to survive.

not to say you cannot manifest while depending on the manifestation, but there’s no need to put yourself in that position willingly. thinking as if and your actions in the 3D don’t have to match. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing in the 3D anyways since it’ll change in just a second right? so don’t mind what is happening out there and live in the 4D.

circumstances can disappear in a second, just like they appeared. and don’t even worry about the how. there’s infinite ways things can work out the way you want them to, you cannot even fathom all the possibilities. your job is to persist in your desired state, and the 3D must prove you right. it has no choice. unless you waver. so stay consistent and be stubborn until you get exactly what you want.

[simpxxstan]

so who in svt do you think loves titties 🤨

18+ nsfw MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

omg this. i have the CRAZIEST fantasies abt svt and tits sorry tmi but really enjoyed writing this for that reason. also i think all of svt like titties ... they are just men at the end of the day lmaoo i just think the difference is in degree and moments

seungcheol

i think he likes tits a lot. primarily because he cannot fathom how soft your boobs are. it's his favourite thing to touch during and outside of sex too. he loves going into the shower with you, mainly to get his hands on your soft boobs. and because they're so soft and pliable and squishy in his hands, it gives him all the more reason to mark it up with hickeys.

jeonghan

oh my favourite menace LMAO he's addicted to your tits. and not in a very convenient way. he'll remember about your tits during work and beg you to send pics (sometimes you recycle old pics and sometimes he'll convince you to go to the washroom at work to take a pic). during movie night, he makes sure you can't focus on the movie because his hand is down your shirt. and forehead kisses before leaving the house? no. jeonghan prefers squeezing your tits one last time before leaving.

joshua

not too obsessed with tits per se. he loves all your body parts, because they're so soft to touch and so warm to cuddle against. the only times he particularly favours your tits are during sex. when he can eat you out and fondle your tits at the same time. when you sit on his dick and he can kiss your breasts because they're literally in his face.

jun

again, obsessed and a tit menace. he'll grab whenever he can- during a red light when you're on drives, when you're cooking in the kitchen, and at night when he's the big spoon, sprawled across you from behind. and his favourite foreplay is undoubtedly, laying his head in between your tits, sucking and biting all over, as he fingers you and you arch out for him.

soonyoung

ANOTHER obsessed menace. he just wants your soft boobs all the time, to the point where it's annoying. he makes you wear his t-shirts at home, so that they fall off your shoulders and he can see your cleavage, and the mere sight makes him hard. but also non-sexually, soonyoung likes to lazily make out with you and suck your tits to heaven before he sleeps, and that gives him as much satisfaction as something else like a massage or any other relaxation method.

wonwoo

not a huge tit enthusiast. he likes how soft your breasts are, especially when you hug him and he feels them squish against the hard planes of his chest. but not overly obsessed (he'd much rather kiss your plush thighs and hips before he makes out with your pussy).

woozi

secret tit enjoyer. he's watched too much hentai to not be. i think his favourite way to ravish your tits would be when you give him titjobs in his studio, your softness turning him on endlessly until he's coming all over your chest and the sight makes even his spent dick twitch. non-sexually, i think he also likes to kiss them before sleeping, enjoying the softness as he cuddles with you after late nights at work.

dokyeom

addicted is an UNDERSTATEMENT. triggers off his submissiveness like crazy if he can suck your boobs for longer than 30 seconds. he's also partial to buying you clothes and lingerie that make your chest look pretty, although he gets very protective whenever you wear them (they're only for his eyes, he says). has an entire collection of polaroids he clicks when he wear these lingerie for him.

mingyu

ANOTHER OBSESSED PUPPY. he just loves your entire body- loves grabbing your soft flesh, your smooth skin, the curved and dips of your body, he loves it all. but the cherry on top, of course, are your tits. as a fan of clothed sex (i think mingyu is obsessed with this too), he really loves clothes that flaunt your boobs for him. gets hard if you squish your boobs against his body unconsciously when he wraps you in one of his bear hugs. also a fan of non-sexual intimacy, for exanple when, he gets to lie next to you in the bathtub, your tits in his mouth, as you watch netflix together.

-minghao

secret tit enjoyer, but not a lot. he ravishes your tits in unusual ways- like when he props you up on the kitchen counter while making out before dinner, his hands fondling your soft boobs. like when you let him drizzle maple syrup on your tits and lick it off after breakfast in bed. like when you let him paint you nude but he can't keep his eyes off your pretty tits for the entire duration of the painting so he marks them up (and adds those hickeys to the painting as well).

seungkwan

not obsessed but still likes them a lot. i think seungkwan gets mighty horny whenever he sees your tits bounce or even show through your clothes, when you're playing sports or dancing for fun with him. apart from that, he keeps his liking very controlled (except when you ride him in cowgirl and he sucks your breasts till they're super sensitive and you're squirming in his grip).

vernon

quite enthusiastic. he's going to grope you at any opportunity you give, and even the ones he takes. will spend entire evenings with your tits in his mouth as you card your hand through his hair and listen to your favourite songs. he won't ask you for it, but if you wear lingerie, vernon will cum in his pants, no question about it. also the type to want to see nipple piercings on you, so when you get one boob done for his birthday, he swears he doesn't want anything else from his life (just the other boob too, if you please).

chan

ANOTHER MENACE. he has very serious and wild fantasies about your tits. he tells you about them very shyly, so he's overjoyed whenever you react nicely to them. like when you let him massage your tits with oil for hours until you cum untouched, while you're handcuffed to the bedposts. like when he uses his vibrator on your tits, relishing the soft jiggle. like when you let him clamp your nipples a bit- not too much, but still tight enough to make you feel constantly stimulated.

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

*rolls up 15 years late with Avatar the Last Airbender thoughts*

So I've been rewatching clips from the show lately to refresh my memory while I'm writing my Zuko Alone fanfic. And last night I rewatched the clip where Iroh teaches Zuko how to redirect lightning and I have had thoughts about this scene for years so I might as well finally throw them into the void of tumblr.

So, this scene is insane to me, because at the end of learning how he could-hypothetically- redirect lightning, Zuko looks at Iroh and, completely seriously says "okay I'm ready to try it with the real thing now". Like, Zuko, the boy with a massive scar on his face from where his father burned him just looks at his uncle and says, "shoot me with lightning".

And yes, he's 16 and not thinking but that's part of the point because the amount of blind, complete trust Zuko has in Iroh to look at him and say "shoot lightning at me" after the insane trauma he had at the hands of his own father- that is WILD to me. Zuko literally trusts Iroh so much that he just assumes, without even having to think about it, that no matter how volatile and unpredictable the lightning is, Iroh won't hurt him because Zuko cannot fathom his uncle hurting him.

And of course, Iroh's appalled because Zuko's standing there with a massive scar on his face from when his father misused firebending against him and likewise, Iroh cannot fathom hurting Zuko. And since IROH knows how volatile and unpredictable lightning is and how it could literally kill his son nephew he is absolutely NOT going to use it just to let Zuko practice redirecting lightning, but he's so flabbergasted that Zuko would even ask him that that he just kind of splutters angrily that he will ABSOLUTELY NOT shoot lightning at Zuko. (it's also just another layer of how messed up Ozai is because he shot lightning at Zuko without a second thought later)

But I hope Iroh thought about it later and realized the amount of pure, unthinking trust Zuko has in him because ;-; the child didn't even THINK about it. "Okay uncle shoot lightning at me now. I know I'll be safe because it's you." I love them so much 😭😭

[acidinduceddaydreams]

First Real Love with Skz

Skz x reader who was in a toxic relationship before them

Synopsis: In which you experience love, the real kind, for the first time.

Warnings: major tw for trauma in terms of mental and physical violence done by a significant other. Please don’t read if this triggers you.

a/n : this fic was my baby for a long time. Now it’s yours, please look after it. I pray it brings some comfort to you!🫶🏼

Chan:

He feels honored that you choose him to be apart of your life.

Doesn’t pry too much when you bring up your past. If you want to tell him you will and he’s content with that.

He finds you so incredibly intoxicating. He can’t believe that someone would ever treat you badly. He would fight tooth and nail to make sure you’re always happy.

Literally so in love with your more childlike/ whimsical view of the world now that you two are together. Your personality definitely changed for the better once you met him and realized that being safe should be a prerequisite in a relationship.

Minho:

Doesn’t ask about your past relationship much. Mostly relies on you telling him about it when you feel comfortable enough.

Absolutely at your service!!! If you’re having particularly unpleasant or difficult feelings or are in your own head he’s at your beck and call. Whether that’s cooking for you, feeding you (which you won’t admit you like) or even leaving you alone for a bit.

The babies (his cats) are by your side 24/7 to ground you and get you out of your head because “ they wouldn’t want their mom to be sad.”

Changbin:

Cannot fathom the idea of someone hurting you in any way whatsoever without wanting to beat them up.

Unlike Minho, Changbin will not leave you alone if you’re having a particularly bad day. He thinks you’re so precious so he will never leave your side even in a particularly bad situation.

Binnie gives the best cuddles!!!! I am 100% convinced. Cuddling is a must! It’s like free therapy. (He, himself is free therapy but wbk) his hugs and cuddles make you forget about what’s going on in your head bc binnie’s cuddles make everything better.

Hyunjin:

He’s appalled that someone could treat another human with disrespect and violence let alone you!

He’s your number one fan in everything you do. Celebrates your small wins just as grandly as the big ones. Oh you ate breakfast today. Suddenly your name and “I’m so proud of you” is all he knows how to say.

Paints with you. Yk when you put the canvases parallel to each other and paint something for the other person. Yeah you guys do that all the time as a grounding technique but also just as a way to show love to one another.

Jisung:

He’s so good at reading body language!!!!!! He is absolutely crushed when things like holding your hand or stretching his hand out to touch your cheek make you flinch, not because he’s mad or angry at you but rather at the person who ever dared to treat you this way.

Wdym personal space? Hannie’s never heard of it. He’s so good at getting you out of you head. He knows what triggers you and sometimes know when something will trigger you before you do.

He’s so attentive bc why wouldn’t he be when he has you to look after. This boy loves you so much and he shows it every day.

Felix:

Bakes for you!!!!!! Sometimes you two bake together but he usually does it in advance to you telling him you need a little extra love today.

So in love with you. Tries to show you the beauty that you are because you haven’t felt beautiful till you met him. “Oh baby you look even more gorgeous than you did yesterday, I didn’t even know that was possible.”

You remind him of sunshine and he reminds you of the sun. Clearly neither of you can exist without the other.

Seungmin:

He is super playful and witty naturally but he tones down the more mocking side for your particularly hard days. He loves you in ways that you didn’t know you could be loved.

On regular days though you two share a similar sense of humor. He loves that about you. Never lets it go too far though.

Absolutely a sucker for you. The boys tease him for being soft for you but he doesn’t care. You’re his baby and he doesn’t care who sees that.

Jeongin:

This boy is so whipped for you. He always listens to you even if what you have to say is something he has no idea about. It feels so amazing to have someone listen to you. To truly listen. He makes it look easy even though listening and not interrupting is quite hard.

He’s not a big fan of skinship but your hands are always within his and he loves it. He’s genuinely so feral for it but you don’t need to know that.

He’ll make sure to show you how someone treats someone they love every day. He’s so attentive and that makes going to him whether it’s with a problem or just to talk so easy because you know there’s no judgment from him.

[mandalhoerian]

moth to a flame | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Break-ups are never easy. Thankfully, you've been preparing for yours for a long time. Leon doesn't let this revelation go for reasons you cannot fathom when he's the one who wants to leave.

word count: 9K

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, p in v, kinda body worship, switch leon, he subs for like a moment and goes this better not awaken anything in me

notes: i winged this please don't judge me. also, "plot"-wise, this is an extension of my leon love language post. header template can be found here. enjoy the filth

🌀 read on ao3!

📍 continue to the BAD ENDING!

📍 continue to the GOOD ENDING!

In hindsight, you’ve seen this coming. Your face barely moves at your on and off situationship of two years forcing out, “I think we should break this off.” 

So faint and unsure it’s barely above a whisper.  

He looks so uncomfortable hunching over, forearms resting on the countertop, breakfast untouched, as if trying to make himself smaller than you, it’s absurd considering the nerves of steel you envy him for, and sure, he’s adorably awkward sometimes for a man of his looks, but not like this. Never vulnerable like this.

The kitchen is gloomy despite the bright winter sun seeping through the windows, almost suffocating because of his uncharacteristically transparent malaise. Leon isn’t one to openly squirm, and in turn, it’s making you all the more nervous — nothing about this is fair when you were thinking you got all the practice needed from imaginary scenarios and possibilities on all the directions the eventual separation would go.  

He can’t look at you, shaking his head nervously, choked by the silence. “Say something.”

How funny it is that he’s the most fit man you’ve ever known, could lift you with one arm without breaking a sweat— one bicep literally the size of your head, yet looks like he’d cry if someone touched him right now. It’s a hard to swallow, unreal pill that you’re the one doing this to Leon, making him weak like this. 

You’ve never known you had that kind of power over him until now, how he says he wants to break up but would throw up if you actually say yes.  

You shift in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digs sharply into your skin with how hyperaware your body is of all the surroundings to deviate your attention from Leon, folding your hands on your lap. 

The answer is at the tip of your tongue, it was stashed away there months ago. Of course you’ll let him go. 

What makes it easier for you is having consented to how absent and private he warned half the things involving him was going to be, or it’s that you knew from the start your time with him would be limited. You just don’t question it; completely skipping the first four stages of grief and jumping readily to acceptance. 

The lamb knew it would be slaughtered by the nurturing, kind humans, and yet it still got attached to them; Homer straight up told the readers how the story would end right at the start of Iliad, yet the fall of Patroclus and the rage of Achilles burned the same, if not worse — you knew Leon would inevitably fall apart and run away one day, yet chose to cherish your limited time with him all the same.

It can’t be called a tragedy if you agreed to how it would end in the first place. 

Leon Kennedy is ephemeral in his nature, daydream-present and lucid-absent in your life all at once. You thought of him as an outdoors cat, never really yours in the first place, randomly shows up whenever he wants to, reluctantly leaves out of nowhere — a flighty, mysterious companion who’s happy and eager to be there but withdrawn when poked and prodded. 

You accept him as such, love him all the same.  

You’re not sure if he loves you just as much. 

Fondness and like is there, enough for him to have stuck around for this long, but you figure it’s because you’re safe and constant. You’re happy to have provided him with at least that because you’re not sure what he saw in you, to be honest. 

What’s happening is painless enough to go through exactly because of this, you hadn’t let yourself get too attached to Leon knowing he isn’t into you as much as you are into him. Maybe you are deluding yourself, maybe you are numb and not as apathetic like you thought you are, but you’re convinced this is how it should go — how it’s meant to go. What’s the point when you’re aware your name won’t be at the top of his list? 

The insecurity surely is a small part of the ‘Leon Kennedy Breakup First-Aid Package’ you’ve been cultivating over time in preparation to cushion your own fall when the time would naturally come, but it doesn’t cover the shape Leon is in that even when he’s the one breaking your heart, he looks like he’s shouldering the pain you’re going through on top of his. 

This is why you can’t ever be mad at him. You wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all. 

Leon is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-blond hair doesn’t shine like it usually does, he hasn’t conditioned it, the golden sheen to it wilted almost. His bloodshot, red rimmed eyes are dim in their blue, laser-focused on the black coffee mug he’s tightly gripping, the skin underneath his lower lashes spread out in faded pink-purple half-rings and it only ever happens when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days’ time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his paperwork. His thumbs are wiping at the place he puts his lips on and have a sip at the contents of it you’ve seen he fed some liquor to a few minutes prior. He’s awfully domestic in his black sweater and pants, not at all looking like he just asked for a breakup.   

You take pity on him. 

“I see. Alright.”

His head shoots up, eyes immediately finding yours, no longer blank. He doesn’t seem sure if he heard you right, expression disbelieving. “What?”

“How do you want to do this?” Mirroring Leon’s anxious movements, your own fingers trace the rim of your own teacup. “You could start gathering your things today, but if you want to call it a day, I don’t mind—”

“No—wait—what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying okay, Leon.”

He winces at the name, gaze escaping from you again momentarily and he has to blink, the lack of your usual pet name for him must have hurt him, you presume. He has to swallow before talking. “This is it?”

You’re not sure if it’s directed at the end of your relationship or you letting him off easy. “I don’t understand. What else was I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know, I just—”

This isn’t being hopeful, but you ask anyway. “What did you want me to say?” 

He sighs in return, tearing away his gaze and hiding it with a hand that wipes at his forehead.

Yeah, it isn’t your hopes that were crushed. You adamantly tell yourself it isn’t. He’s being nice as he always is, of course he’d question how agreeable you’re being, it’s not like his resolve is going to change. “I’m just being cooperative so we can—”

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

That was the problem?

“I’m not, Leon.” 

“How can you not be?”

“Well, I…” It’s because you love him, but bringing this up would only make it harder. “I’m not sure. You’ve been that good to me along the way, I guess. I don’t resent you for anything.”

He has that subtle sarcastic look on his face you would take as mocking if you were a total stranger, but you know better. He’s being self-deprecating. You could read it. But you should, he’s thinking. You should resent me. 

You don’t. 

The thing with Leon is he’s too good to be true that his only flaw is being a literal ghost. A well-meaning ghost who’d send presents upon presents and work his ass off to make extra time for what he had to give up on every time your plans falls through with unexpected shit that came up from his mystery job at the White House he never talks about that has him battered and bruised each time he turns up after prolonged leaves.  

Which is an oxymoron considering how attentive and absent he is at the same time. Sometimes you wondered if he’d fix his habit of being a clam about everything concerning himself after you guys were through, but imagining him becoming more open and changing for someone else hurt too much.

“Don’t you want to know why? I mean—god, why are you just taking it?” 

“What do you mean taking it? You’re not doing this to hurt me, look at you, Leon, when have you last slept? It’s hard on you too.” 

“That really doesn’t have to do with anything right now,” he dismisses. “How are you this unaffected? I’ll take it if it’s to get back at me…”

“It’s not.” You stand up, appetite lost. You want to wrap your food up and put it in the fridge to eat later, and this way, you don’t have to look at him while saying the sentences you have rehearsed for so long. “If you want to break up, I can’t force you to stay—or into anything you don’t want to. It’s not fair for either of us. You’ll be stuck with someone who you don’t want, and I’ll have to live with the knowledge I’m with someone who doesn’t want me.” 

You find him staring at you when you’re done, your hand stays wrapped around the handle of the fridge door at how tortured he is. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, blond strands framing his face gently swishing in the air. He does the angry eyebrow scrunch whenever he disagrees with you strongly on something you’ve said, but decides not to at the last minute, and you find yourself the tiniest bit disappointed at him not refusing he doesn’t want you. “You always— you always do this... Be angry. You have to be angry at me.”

You find refuge in the kitchen sink, washing your hands. “Stop it. I don’t want to fight, please.”

“So you are angry.”

“I’m not!” You slam the water shut a bit too forceful and you breathe for a second before turning to him. “I’m not. Angry. I’m sad, yeah. An understatement. Who wouldn’t be?” 

He just says, “I’m sorry,” at that, and hates it’s the only thing he can manage to give you, it’s blatant in his face. 

You take a seat at the chair directly next to him, you both need the intimacy of good communication at the moment. “But I had a lot of time to mourn, alright? It’s not that I’m taking it or being passive or whatever—”

“Mourn?”

His eyes search yours for a second, and the realization leaves him breathless, the insides of his brows raise up, making him look younger and more innocent. “You were expecting this.”

“Yeah, I mean.” Your lips press together, and you chew the insides before hopelessly shrugging, a small smile doing its best to put itself together. “Look at us. It was never going to work out in the long term. Not really. I consider two years a miracle, to be honest. I don’t know how we got this far.”

“All this time we were together.” Leon’s voice is thick, on the verge of shaking, you weren’t expecting him to take this so badly. His pupils devour all the blue from his eyes, he has never looked at you this hostile before all the hair on your arms rise up. “You were just thinking about breaking up? Have I only ever made you insecure?”

“Not all the time—it’s just—” You swallow. ““Why are you angry at me now? What did I do? You are the one breaking up with me.”

“And here you are okay with this. You’re telling me you didn’t think we’d ever work out when I—” He huffs. “I didn’t even notice a thing. You weren’t happy at all. Ever? You were uneasy all this time?”

“No, Leon, you’re not listening to me. What I expected was that you would leave one day, eventually. Because that’s how you are. That’s how your life is.” He leans back when he gets what you are alluding at, rubbing his face with a hand, refusing to look at you — but out of anger this time around. “I know you wouldn’t be able to stand being in limbo about not letting yourself go and wanting to at the same time. I know you felt bad about everything. I guess it’s just not the right time?”

You don’t say, right person and wrong time, it’s wishful thinking on your part—Leon probably doesn’t think that, someone else seems to take that crown in his heart, you know that all too well. 

The muscles on his arm closest to you flexes, he must be thinking about taking your hand in his, so you remove them off the table and nestle them between your thighs. Any physical contact from him might lead to you crying in the end. 

“I’m sorry I made you go through all that,” he laments. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Your head tilts sideways. “It wasn’t about me, Leon. Suppose I sat you down and complained you weren’t open with me, you were distant. Especially when you weren’t ready for the conversation. I’ll tell you what would have happened. Two weeks of radio silence.”

“Ah, c’mon…”

“It’s not something you haven’t done before. You said it was work, but… You know. I get it.”

Leon exhales from his nose and lowers his head, broad chest puffing up with rapid breaths, his neck is getting redder by the second. You’ve never taken him for someone with an explosive anger, but it looks like that could change any second. 

“I wish you wouldn’t take this to heart, I’m not saying this to hurt you when I say I knew this was always going to happen.” You’re talking like you’re trying to soothe a tiger, and he especially looks to hate it. “You can’t possibly have expected me to ignore it. And it wasn’t going to come from me either, I’m happy to be with you either way, but—”

“That’s the problem.” He has his head between his hands, like that could possibly hide him away from the conversation. “I treat you like this and you still say that.”

You wish he wouldn’t be this hard on himself.

“I signed up for this.” He tilts his head at that, accusatory, and you get more agitated in return. “I know your circumstances. You can’t help being absent most of the time, I understand. I understand more than you think.” His forearms hit the counter loudly, he looks about to spit fire any second, but you don’t let it happen. “However. It’s no way to continue a relationship, I know that too. My perspective is that it shouldn’t be guilt that comes to your mind whenever you think of me. I wish things could be different. I wish I could be a priority to you—”

Leon’s face sours, and you stop talking when you see it. 

You didn’t mean for the words to hurt him as they did, explanations becoming distraught. “Look, I like you, you know this. Possibly too much. More than I should. You have to understand that’s why I’m being this amicable with you right now. Break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, sometimes things just don’t work out, and that’s what’s happening right now, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t reach Leon. His gaze is faraway, defined jawline locked clenching and unclenching. 

“If it makes you feel better, I was angry for a while.” His hand comes down from rubbing a circle in the middle of his brows, eyes shifting back to yours. “But it is what it is.”

“You’re not even gonna ask?” he says, defeated.

“Would you tell me anything different from what I know?”

He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a sigh, one of his legs shaking, and his head falls forward, curtains of dark blond hair covering your view of his face. For a moment, all you want is to slip your fingers into the silky strands and comb them back, take his heat away, the pads of your fingers on his smooth cheekbones, you know he’d melt into your touch straight away and his expression would lose weight of the strain he carries you can only imagine the root of most of the time, but you abstain. 

He wouldn’t appreciate it on the brink of a break-up, you were about to become nothing but strangers. 

That’s why it’s abrupt when he leans forward and captures your lips in an unfair, unfair kiss, the force of it makes his teeth clack against yours and you grimace, retreating to break it. His hand slips to the side of your neck to pull you back in, the drag of calluses and heat against the skin of your neck sends goosebumps all over your body, his thumb caresses your cheek in a loving way that hurts but his lips are frantic in their gentler search to open your mouth to his, and suddenly you can’t breathe from how much Leon keeps advancing. 

Turning your face away to break the assertive, overwhelming liplock, you take in lungfuls of air as you look as away from him as you can, panicking at the way he presses his forehead to your temple and the way his nose nudges your burning cheek, he doesn’t budge when you attempt to push him off the second you realize you’re enjoying this. He’s built like a fucking tank. “Leon—”

“Say no if you don’t want it,” he breathes, right into your neck, the tickle is mixed with something dangerous that sears your skin along with the low rumble to his voice directly in your ear, and you have to stop yourself from squirming, a coil of incandescence binds its threads together in the depths of your stomach. “Say it and I’ll stop.” One muscular arm hooks around the back of your upper thigh and one around your waist, he quite literally snatches you off your chair and plops you down on his lap, each of your legs hang from the sides of his hips, and you yelp at how effortlessly Leon seems to arrange you to his liking. 

He’s needlessly, uncharacteristically cruel. You would always want him. Leon knows this. 

“You’re so—” Your breath hitches when his fingers bypass your shirt and sneak up the bare skin of your waist and his other arm readjusts you as he buries his forehead in your shoulder and you gaze at the top of his golden hair kissed by morning sunlight and take in the familiar scent of him and his shampoo. His body against yours leaves a festering sweet longing. “So unfair—you were just breaking up with me—”

He bites down at the meat of your clavicle and you draw in a short breath, the dig of his teeth sting, but he immediately soothes it with a lick and his tongue is hot, too hot. “Unfair?” he groans, you contain the shudder at the emotion he keeps at bay and at the path his blunt fingernails make above the clothing from your hips to the sides of your legs, he’s never been like this. “You already left me in your mind before this and I don’t even know exactly when.” The tip of his nose faintly traces the curve of where your neck meets the shoulder, the tickle is unbearable, aching, you wish he would have left marks instead. “You were always thinking of leaving— our time together didn’t matter to you. What do you think that makes me feel like?”

“That’s not—” You grip both of his biceps and feel the protruding veins and the flex of the muscle underneath the skin, intimidated as always by how both of your hands added together were too small to form a full hold around one. I work out a lot, was his excuse while you were first getting to know each other as acquaintances, and you’d thought how this man belonged with someone of his league. “You’re the one—” 

“You dummy, I’m not leaving you because I want to.” Leon’s arms circle your waist and pulls your body flush against his in a crushing hug, his head finding home under your chin and against your chest. It’s innocent and you feel the helplessness, the desire to hold but not be seen, but you don’t know what to do in return, his words don’t quite register. “Why would I ever when I—“ He cuts himself off, breathing shaky as the rest of the sentence dies at his throat. “Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

You tentatively hold his shoulders, surprised at how taut they are. How winded he is like some wire. “I don’t understand.”

“You are just letting me leave like that. Like some business deal done and gone, you just…” 

You can’t help the sound that escapes as he bites your earlobe. Why does he keep biting? 

“Ow!—“ Leon starts sucking, the wet sounds and his breathing directly in your ear sending shivers down your spine, and you’ve had enough of his thought processes ending up being completed by his lips on your body. 

He’s easily able to overpower you, but obeys when he feels you’re genuinely pushing him away, some strands of your hair get stuck on his face and the view of the detained obscenity of his expression  —the half-closed eyes and the missing blue, the flush of his cheekbones, glistening of his pinked lips— sends a hot wave downstairs. “It’s you. You! You’re the one leaving, Leon, I don’t get it—“

Some clarity through the pinkish haze of want dawns back to him, and he gingerly combs the threads of hair away from your face, some of them behind your ear. “I don’t want to. That’s the thing. I thought it was clear as day.” Leon searches your eyes, looking down at the details of your face, your heart races as his stare gets stuck at your lips the longest, he isn’t even aware he’s doing it and you feel feverishly desired from his insatiable look, from the slow movement of his Adam’s apple. “But—“

“You can’t help it. Right?” Your thoughts are blurring together, and he’s a black hole pulling you in. “I understand—“

Leon kisses you again, and your stolen exhale turns into a pleased hum. “Stop saying that,” he whispers with inches between your lips, eyes closed, so close your breath is his.  

“What do you want me to say?“

“Stay.” He takes your hand and brings it up, planting a singular kiss at the inside of your wrist, and then rests his cheek against your palm. You can only stare at the vulnerability he’s offering you on a silver platter, the tormenting softness is blinding. “Stay.” 

Your heart soars. God, you’ve longed for him to give away that he wants to be with you all this time, the insecurity is a blanket you’ve hidden under, this is it, but he’s so torn and you don’t get his struggle, what he must be hiding for such a visceral reaction. He wants to, but he can’t, and you don’t know why, having accepted he wouldn’t tell you from the start anyway. 

But you ask. You ask anyway. Hope is a flightless bird waiting for her wings to grow each day. “Will you?”

Something shifts, a delicate moment broken, and Leon draws back, his eyelashes flutter as if he’s shaking off some daydream — and then he’s upset, a pinch in his brow. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I can’t—“ You’re grabbed from the arms and scooted away from his lap, putting some distance between the two of you. Leon is physically pained, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m being like this.” He holds your hands between the two of you, and you get whiplash from the passion just mere seconds ago and the tenderness of this touch. “I can’t keep doing this to you. I don’t know why I’m this unreasonable, it’s so childish— Shit. I’m sorry, I’ll just—“

“No.” You cup his face in both hands and he looks like an abused puppy tasting kindness for the first time. “Stay for a bit.” Your heartstrings are tugged by the way Leon’s eyes are lit up. “I want to have you. One last time. Is that alright?”

A beat passes.

“Yeah,” he says, blanking out at first, but then repeats stronger, his fingers sink into the plush of your thighs as he licks his lips. “Yeah.” He turns his head and kisses your palm, somber. “You can have me however you want.”

Leon doesn’t look like he’s particularly looking forward to it. “You sure?”

“I’ll always want you, any day, any time,” he says, and you’re flabbergasted at the burden of his meaning. But you force yourself to look past it, look past the unguarded and unarmed honesty, choosing to interpret it in the language of lust. 

“Not here, though.” You get up from his lap and he doesn’t stop you. “It’s kinda cramped.”

“We can make it work if you’re up for it,” he half-teases, one corner of his lips curling up, his eyes are humorless. 

You snort. Easy for him to say. He’s fit, you aren’t, that’s why being on top can’t last half the time without his assistance. “You can. I certainly can’t.”

“You keep saying I can’t to me, knowing I take it as a personal challenge.” Leon’s touch moves up your forearm and in one swift move, he pulls you in between his legs. He leaves a kiss at the lower valley between your clothed breasts. “Maybe you’re doing it on purpose?”

You’re heating up right away. “I’m not—”

Leon pats his right leg, pulling up the sleeve of his shorts all the way up to the hipbone, exposing the well-endowed, firm thigh. “Sit here.”

“Your leg’s gonna get a cramp,” you say, but it’s hardly a complaint, your crotch has begun to contract at the thought of feeling the flawless skin slipping against your slick folds and how he would mold the tendons to fit just right for your pleasure. Expectation was pulling you tight right from the start where he had you hanging from his every word.  

Leon’s almost offended. “It won’t.” But his encouragement is gentle. “Come on, sweet girl.” Hooking one arm between the two layers of the bands of your underwear and pants, he lets them snap back against your skin after he pulls considerably. “And you’re taking off all that.”

You let it go. Immediately. “Fuck, okay.” 

It’s morning. You’re in the middle of the kitchen. And you’ve forgotten all of that, head lost in the beginnings of a dull throb between your legs. Your dignity would have been trampled on if you were too enthusiastic, so you try to take your time, and he asks, “How do you want to go about this?”

“Huh?”

His hands ride up your knee and inch up, his thumbs in the line of your inner thighs, and your first instinct is to press them together to alleviate the ache, but Leon’s forcing them apart. “You can have my tongue or fingers first. To help the friction.” You swallow when the nail of his thumb scratches the material of your panties and feels the slight dampness, and he’s watching your reactions very closely. “Or you could just sit down.”

You don’t have strength left in your knees anymore, head spinning with the way his darkened, narrowed gaze is simultaneously bearing down on and  looking up at you, and Leon helps you settle your weight on his leg after sliding your underwear down your legs, the warmth of his palms on your naked hips alone is vexing enough and it’s embarrassing that he feels the particularly strong pulse of your sex. 

He angles his leg up and you slide forward with the gathered moisture, arms catching onto his neck in surprise from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “Eager, are we?”  

You aren’t normally bold like this, would let him keep softly teasing rather than give the same energy back, but there’s a certain finality to this time, your brain is liquid smooth from the tantalizing delight of his touch, and you don’t hold back to inform just what he does to you breathily. “Always for you.”

The movement of his leg staggers and you look up to see him caught completely off guard. And the next thing you know, Leon has you in a bruising kiss, or you think it has the strength to bruise, he hasn’t been this rough before, and you certainly haven’t been craved to this extent in your entire life before him. 

This time you accept his tongue willingly into the cavern of your mouth, his fervent licks and gasps rise the question of who’s really the more eager one here, but it doesn’t really occupy space in your mind, limbs stilling overall from how he steals away all bodily functions with just kisses that radiate desperation. 

Leon ushers your hips to languidly move when you fail as a multitasker all the while the swirl of your tongues continue to tangle, and it proves difficult as your slide against him becomes smoother and wetter with him finding just how to pull the hood of your mound while you’re pulling back and drag against it in the correct angle, flexing his thigh accordingly. 

He pecks your jaw. “Faster?”

Skin contact goes straight to the tightening spiral in your stomach like this. “I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t.” He does something that has you dropping down from heights by circling his leg, and completely out of your control, small noises emerge from the back of your throat and you can’t kiss him back anymore. “Do you want it faster or not?”

You try to hum in agreement, but he catches you in the middle of it and jerks you forward, the sharp zap electrifies all your nerves and grants him a startled moan, you can barely see the satisfaction in his face from the sudden tears. You were somehow in control of the pace previously, but once he knows you want it faster, it’s him that anchors your hips to the edge of the stars, a man on a mission. 

Leon begins to leave open-mouthed, wet kisses on your neck that has you tilting your head to give him more room, and you’re glad his heavy gaze isn’t drinking in your bliss-stricken expression anymore. “You hear that?” His question is thick. “Listen.” 

The noises your wetness make sliding across the muscles of his thigh in a rapid speed makes some of the blood rush up to your cheeks, and the knot is stretched so agonizingly beyond the point of no return that you’re hurling towards absolution, legs beginning to shake and your whines become sweeter. “Leon,” you pant, the fever to keep going as he is conveyed in one singular word reaches him. “Leon—ah, mmh— I’m— Leon!”

“Yeah, I got you.” Adoring kisses are peppered along your jawline and your fingers clutch to his blond hair, pulling him in, your stiffened, perked up nipples are smushed in the press of his chest against yours, and you arch into him like a cat, lost in the ascending ecstasy. “Just let go.” He bites down and your sore walls clench around nothing, the pulsating increasing in intensity. You’re on a thrill ride, shooting up, up, up— “Come for me, sweet girl, come on, give it to me.”  

With a sharp, choked cry, and the throw of your head back, the coil explodes and unravels, white sparkles in your vision, and Leon holds you down when your body tries to fly off with the force of your orgasm, the sinking of his hands into your sensitive flesh only heightens and sends crashing waves as he helps you ride through it, rocking lazily with you back and forth. 

“Oh god,” you shiver, clinging to him, upper body basically draped across his chest as the pleasure rolls into a stinging ache of pain with the overstimulation, bones jiggly from the floaty feeling to get away yourself. “Too much. Leon. Too much.”

His voice is croaky. “Yeah, we’re not done yet.” 

He stands up with his arms supporting your legs around his waist, and you hold on for dear life. It scares every single time he does this. Leon makes it look so easy to carry you around from room to room without breaking a sweat. 

The full meaning of his words only get to you when you’re thrown on the bed, wind knocked out of you. “Leon, wait, aren’t you going to Spain tomorrow, don’t you have to prepare—”

“I’m preparing,” he says, putting one knee on the bed and oh god, the shine on his thigh, the drench, that was all you—- “Need to get my fill of you to last for the whole trip, yeah?”

It’s more like he’s saying, ‘To last for the rest of my life’, the hunger and melancholy makes for a Frankenstein’s monster of ravenous, unquenchable yearning when you’re right in front of him and your flame is rekindled.  

More than one round with him is uncommon most times because he’s simply busy and moves around a lot, you weren’t used to the practice, build wired to exhaustion taking over when he was finally done with you, either hot, heavy and fast or sweet and intense, each time leaving you with honeyed sore bones and the best sleep following right after. 

Arousal pools in the pit of your belly thinking about what comes next. 

Kneeling at your feet, he taps your tight-locked  knees. “Open up for me.”

It’s morning. He could see every detail of imperfection in this light and uncertainty washes over you for a second before you do as he wishes, the sheets crinkling and rustling beneath your shifting, and he gets on his stomach and puts one of your legs to his shoulder when you thought he would be entering you already. 

Flustered, you get up on your elbows. “Leon, you don’t have to.” 

“Didn’t think you wanted to get it over with right away.” Sliding his hand up, he fans his fingers on your tummy, thumb pulling at the skin dipping into your vulva, and looks up at you from his eyelashes. Little sparks of pleasure light up at each stroke. The weight of his arm is wonderful. “Breaking my heart over here.”

“It’s not that, I…”

He scooches up, and the knowingly feather-light kiss he leaves on the inside of your thigh, close — right there but not there, makes your leg twitch. “Oh, you wanted something else?” The teasing view of Leon inches away from where you wanted him was a sight for sore eyes, but his sudden hot breath on your post-orgasmic sopping heat broke your daze, making your hips attempt to jump up, but his arm had you absolutely pinned on the mattress. “Well?” 

It’s not something you’d planned, but his wanton beauty looking up at you shoves an image inside your brain unexpectedly, reminding you how you’d said you wanted to have him, not the other way around. This is going to be the last time Leon would be like this with you, and there were so many things left unexplored. What would it feel like to have this feline-gracious, strapping man underneath you, to run your lips through his unbelievably sturdy body all over and return the kindness on how good he’s been taking care of you? Leon was always perfect to you. Is perfect. Your wish to present him with how exactly on top of the world he has you feeling for your final time, to return the favor. 

Leon has stopped moving and it’s because of your lack of reaction and the long look of contemplation regarding him. You lift his hair away from his eyes. “Can you lay down on your back?”

“You wanna get on top?” he asks, but doesn’t object to it, moving up on the bed and sitting up, getting the hint on taking off his clothes, enamored, you watch his abdomen flex and limbs stretch like a cat’s as he slips his shirt off and throws it away and shimmy off his briefs. Every single movement of his is a wonder. 

“No, I want to touch you,” you say, stare not knowing where to focus on him and his half-hard dick jumps at your words. “Explore you.”

He meets your eyes, pupils blown, and swallows, nodding. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I wanted to have you, remember?” 

There’s a semblance of a laugh and Leon rolls on his back, one knee up and hands on his stomach, blond hair fanning around his head on the sheets. He looks like a sculpture. “And how will you have me?”

“Pleasured without thinking of pleasuring,” you explain, he’d be better at the dirty-talk in your position, perhaps say something like ‘Crying for me’, but you’re way too fascinated by him to think about what would have him helplessly turned on. “Vulnerable.”

You would be lucky if you are able to push him to the point of not even one thought behind those pretty blue eyes, but you just want to make him feel good, and with that in mind, reach a hand and trail the tips of your fingers through the prominent web of veins along his forearm, his fingers jump, and you continue through his upper arm, lingering on the sharp lines of lighter-colored small scars until you reach his shoulder, feeling the cluster of the goosebumps that rise in his skin. 

“Seriously?” he says with an annoyed timbre and you see him having gone completely hard, eyebrows shooting up in shock. “You’re going this slow? Am I some package you’re unboxing?” 

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you murmur in interest, and Leon sulks at how you run all five of your fingernails all the way down the lower of his belly button and how it’s hardly even a graze at all. His abs keep contracting. “I barely touched you.”

“You, haah,” he sighs at you straddling and hovering above him. “Don’t need to point that out.”

Leon tries to hold onto your thighs but you maneuver him away, and unsurprisingly, he isn’t pleased by that, groaning. “Oh we’re doing this?”

“I’m touching you. Stay still like a good boy.”

It’s your usual banter, but for some reason, he turns his face away and closes his eyes for a second, wetting his lips as if his mouth is dry. The line of his neck clenches and unclenches and you feel the brush of his dick lightly hit the inside of your leg. You’re fascinated again. He likes this more than you expected. “God, you really want to kill me.”

Leon could stop it if he wanted to. Switch it around. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. All the times you’ve attempted to ride him and your knees and calves failed you, he ended up sitting up and hugging you close, fucking up into you and kneading your insides from below and littering your shoulders with angry red marks, taking control of the pace, especially riled up from how endearing and sexy you were trying your best to pleasure him, in his words. He can do it again, but doesn’t. Just lies there, all for you, stuck between a rock and a hard place — which, in this case, is his discomfort and enjoyment. The lack of stimulation gets him going. 

You lean down and nip at the corner of his mouth, and he responds immediately, turning back to you, chasing the kiss. His hands come up to your waist but you take them off, pinning them to his sides, and Leon complains through sharply breathing into your mouth. “I’ll only,” Kiss. “Hold you.” Kiss. “Please, just let me—” You lightly bite his tongue. 

As if he couldn’t do it if he truly wanted to. He is letting you do this to him. Pleading. In that tone of voice, too. You’re in over your head, what is happening? 

“No,” you say, kissing his jaw and caressing the hinge of his opposite jaw with your thumb, sounding stern but feeling silly inside, unsure if he’s amused by you deep down. But Leon huffs again like a spoiled brat not getting what he wants. 

You’re shell-shocked, but continue your pursuit to find out what else he likes, settling on his ear, making a line through the outer rim of soft tissue with your tongue and sucking kisses until he’s shifting around, you can hear how he’s trying to level out his breathing, then you bite, and he hisses as you repeat it over and over again. 

You’ve heard that some men enjoy getting their nipples played with, and you caress and massage, knead and fondle all over his torso with both hands as the switching of your gentle and silky mouth and the needling pleasure of teeth assault his ear, and you listen to his heavy breathing the occasional hitch of it until you circle around one nub, and flick it, rubbing down and pressing the pebbled nipple inwards, just like how he does it to you, and twist the other one. His face hides itself in your neck, and you let him have that, at least. 

His exhale turns into sound and he shuts it down pretty quickly, opting to speak up instead. “Can you—” he begins, and then tuts, sounding nonchalant, but you hear it. You hear the thickness of contained arousal. “Can you move on already?”

“You want the other ear?”

His head jerks in your position at you saying that straight into his ear and breathing into it, you know the thin sheen of saliva coating it makes the sensation sharp and cool and warming at the same time. “No—” he says, but you ignore him, cutting the rejection off by taking his other earlobe between your teeth. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t necessary—”

“If it isn’t, why is this wet?” You ask, watching him closely, tapping the pearl of clear liquid gathered at the tip of his ramrod straight hardness. It’s scalding hot, throbbing at the contact. Leon hisses between his teeth, trying to contain it, and sighs as your index finger circles the tip to spread it around, another bead of precum swelling in the wake of your touch. His eyebrows are scrunched, lips thinning and returning to their usual plushness with him pushing them together, a dust of pink coloring his complexion, a weak glare is on you. “Just enjoy it.”

“I could if you actually did something already.”   

You wrap a tight hand around Leon’s needy cock, heavy and thick, and he shouts, the cry turning into a high-pitched whine you would never dream of coming from him and he clamps a hand on his mouth right in the middle of it, hips bucking into you, head thrown back, blown eyes horrified at what he just did. His breaths are loud and shaky, face turning red in seconds, and you watch, utterly captivated. You’ve seen adorable sides of him before when he lets himself be light and his brow isn’t hanging close to his eyes in that grumpy mood, but what you have right here…   

You’re drunk on this side of his, nibbling at his exposed throat. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“God,” he whispers behind his palm, with a subtle tremble when you squeeze once and let go. His hips stutter up before falling back. Leon’s embarrassed. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t retort back, all of the sass packed and left. You can’t believe this is working. That Leon’s obeying you like this. He’s leaked all over your hand. Oh my god. 

And you’ve really barely even done anything to him. 

You can’t help but wonder if this is you doing this to Leon or he’s just into being bossed around in general. 

How further can you push?

“Look, you’ve wet my hand,” you say, bringing your glistening palm up and separating your fingers after circling the gathered precum around, a thin thread forming between the digits. Like a hawk, he watches you lap it all up and you don’t take your eyes off of his, hearing him grip the sheets. “Still gonna act like this isn’t doing anything for you?”

Leon’s voice is gravelly as he rasps, “Kiss me.” It’s something between a request and a demand that if you don’t do it, he will. 

You oblige, pushing down on his chest to get him to lie down again when it’s apparently too slow and soft for him, and he avidly presses forward to make it rougher, intertwining his tongue with yours harsher to the point of your mixed drool sliding down his chin for more. 

He’s yanking and pulling on his clasp on the dreadfully wrinkled covers in self-restraint as he bites and licks and pulls at your lips, butterflies light up the pit of your stomach and thrash against the liquefied rapture that throbs in your pussy and seeps out, the need for attention growing impatient by the minute.  

You go down and focus on kissing his neck, alternating between openmouthed licks and bites, careful not to leave marks, insides doing a summersault at the small noise of disappointment he makes that transitions into husky gasps. Leon still is concerned with suppressing any kind of unbecoming sounds he’s appalled to come out of him, and you’re bothered by that. Pressing your palm on the head of his cock and twisting sure does the trick to vocalize him a bit, restoring your confidence. 

“Ah… Can’t you just directly touch it,” he sighs gruffly. “This isn’t enough—”

“You aren’t asking nicely enough.” 

His head snaps down, brows raised in disbelief, self-consciousness clouding the teased promise of bliss that edges him on, and you stare back at him pointedly — however, on the inside, you’re worried if he’d ever beg at all. 

You twist your palm with added pressure enough to alleviate the pain, but not enough to carry him to the peak he wants to get to, and his shoulders jump up, “Ah!” Biting down on his momentarily trembling lower lip and shaking his head with closed eyes as if he doesn’t want to see you watch him be like this, he mutters, “I’m gonna get you for this…” 

You grip the base of his cock so hard his hands fly up to your wrists and with a shuddering whimper, stop at the last second before he touches you and he drapes his forearms on his reddened face instead, his back rises from the bed involuntarily, Leon’s flat-on squirming and hating it. 

“That’s not nice,” you tease, pressing your legs together in momentary relief and waves of pleasure that slip on your skin like silk, and narrowly stopping the moan. You breathily add, “What do we say?” 

“Please,” so fast and quiet, humiliated. You understand, but don’t let him off.  

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuck, please, come on, please.” His hands ball into fists and his arm veins pop out and his right knee curls upwards. “You can’t keep doing this to me—AHH—mhhmh—!”

His sentence gets cut off into incomprehensible babbling once you start pumping your fist up and down his neglected erection, not even needing lotion for it, he’s drenched enough to make the slide beyond slippery. You add your other hand into the mix and begin teasing the tip, and his chest, having developed a thin layer of sweat and gleaming in the sunlight, is heaving, and he can’t swallow the gasps and noises anymore, fingernails digging into his palms. You can only see his puffed, rufescent lips from the way he’s covering his face.  

“Wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it,” you say, and it’s genuine. This much alone was too much, way beyond what you thought could happen. Leon is always in control, he has it together so brilliantly that this is actually him falling apart, it’s an enthralling, spellbinding natural disaster so beautiful you can’t look away, want to touch yourself to the sight. 

“I’ll show you what I have in mind,” Leon all but snarls, and he has you on your back and pulls you towards him by your legs harshly even before shivers can go down your spine. “Let’s see if you can take that.” 

You pushed him past his limit it seems, and he darkly stares you down, eyebrows scrunched and beads of sweat rolling down his temples. sweat-dampened hair curtains his face from both sides. His hand slips behind both of your knees and scratches at the smooth skin of the crevice, shooting lightning directly into your core, and he hikes them up to hook over his shoulder and hugs one bulging arm around to hold them together, lining himself up with your slit with a trembling hand, dragging the cherry red, furious tip up and down, slipping it in for a bit, catching your insides in a tantalizing drag, and then taking it out next, making your toes curl in the air and drawing squeals out of you. 

Leon would normally send you to the underground and back from how horribly he’d tease you for being this drenched for him, but he’s strained and silent now, snapping his hips against yours and burying himself to the hilt in the spasming cavern of your pussy in one go, with no resistance from how ready for him you were, ripping a fractured cry from you as your vision blacks and stars dance behind your eyes. He groans gutturally, cock pulsing inside, and you feel the sound in your body. You’re overly sensitive from head to toe, and even the sheets sliding against your burning skin makes your clit throb painfully, deliciously. 

He doesn’t start slow or build to something, it’s quick and rough right off the bat as he’s ramming into you with no mercy, and he’s basically catapulting you into glorious completion, but you need more stimulation, more, something more—

He slaps your hand away when you try to reach down to your clit to slip two fingers between your tightly shut legs and falls on his forearms, “No way I’m letting you do that.” Leon arranges your legs to wrap around his waist, grinding against you. 

His attention then shifts to something else and he pulls on the sleeve of your shirt that’s still on, a scheming shine comes to the blue of his eyes that worry you, and then he’s leaning in and forcing it up. It’s hard for you to move your back and slip it off with the way he’s pinning you down, and it dawns on you late after you make the mistake of raising your arms that it’s what he wants after all. After getting your head out, Leon turns it inside out around the entire length of your arms that act as a makeshift restraint and leaves it like that, you’re incapacitated with your hands over your head like this. 

You whine, this is so about not letting him touch you, and he thrusts up sharply to shut you up, sucking blossoming reds into the crook of your neck, hands pulling and pinching at your nipples. It’s building up. It’s building up, but— “You’re going to come like this.”

The frantic slap of skin against skin is echoing in the room and you struggle against the bunched up shirt around your arms. “Can’t—”

“You’re doing it on purpose at this point.” He laces his fingers into your hair on top of your head, thumb on your forehead in little caresses, contrasting how he fucks you shallow and fast, his voice a couple octaves higher than it usually is as he angles your hips upwards to hit deeper, and your moans are a metronome in beat to his ruthless pace. 

“Yeah, that’s right, take it!” Eyes glazed over, mouth agape, the muscles in his thighs jumping, body pulled taut, wrecked and somehow begging, Leon doesn’t leave a single spot unkissed on your face and throat and he’s hurling towards an uncontrolled craze, he’s so close himself. “More? You want more? Too bad, this is it—mmm—for what you just did to me, and you’re gonna take it!” 

You’re clamping down on him and he hisses in your ear as you repeat it like a mantra, Leon is wrenching a merciless orgasm from you and you have no control over it, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, can’tcan’tcan’tcan’t—!”   

Leon’s delectable weight pins you down as you shoot up with the detonation of the pleasure into a thousand pieces, rippling through your body in building waves, your pussy clenching down on him catches him off guard and he unceremoniously spills into you with a choked, staccato shout shuddering, the succulent warmth coating your insides and adding to the ecstasy, and it just keeps coming, his load is too heavy and too much. Your stiffened legs lock the shivering man in place and tremble around his waist as he languidly rides his bliss out, forehead sticky against your clavicle, the sheer strength with which he holds you against him is euphoric rather than suffocating. 

“God, what the fuck was that,” he mumbles at some point, collapsing on top of you and turning you around with him so he won’t crush you, pulling you to his sweaty chest and putting his chin on top of your head. His scent has you in a fuzzy daze. “What did you do to me?”

You don’t respond, consciousness slipping from your fingers and pulling you deep into the sweet comfort of the dark. 

You feel his hand on your cheek, lightly nudging. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Mhm,” you manage to make out. “Wanna sleep…”

“Okay, sweet girl, I got you,” he says, soft and endeared, from far, far away. 

And with that, you’re out like a light. 

When you wake up, you find yourself thoroughly cleaned up, in comfortable, cotton pajamas, with no Leon in sight and a small note left on your nightstand with the keys to your apartment on top of it. 

It reads: Had to go. I’m sorry about not staying until you woke up. Talk to you when I get back.

You plop back on your fluffy pillows and sigh, chest hurting. It was always going to end this way. In hindsight, you’ve seen it coming. 

Your heart doesn’t agree, tears freely falling from your eyes. It’s really over. Leon really left like that. Just as he came into your life. 

You don’t have the right to complain. You’d agreed to it in the first place. 

[homunculus-argument]

I've got Colors of the Wind (finnish lyrics) stuck in my head again, and I started thinking about how much more I actually like the finnish lyrics. Like yeah they have to match the lip sync and this song in particular was wrangled through hell grammatically, but translated directly, I like the tone a lot more. Like the starting words

You think I'm an ignorant savage And you've been so many places I guess it must be so But still I cannot see If the savage one is me How can there be so much that you don't know?

And in finnish that is

Oon vain sulle ihminen villi ja vaikka kuinka katsot ei muuta eessäs näy. En saata ymmärtää miksi käyt niin väittämään, kun elämää et voi sä ymmärtää?

Which literally translates to

To you I am only a wild person* And though no matter how hard you look, that's all that you can see I cannot fathom why you would claim such a thing When you cannot understand life?

And to note, while the word "villi" as a noun definitely is used to refer to people as "savages", as an adjective it's the same one that's used for wild animals, i.e. untamed, undomesticated. Finnish doesn't have separate word for "human" and "person", so it's just as much "feral person" and "wild human", a person not domesticated.

So the tone is a lot less "I don't understand why you think I'm uncivilised but you know so much better that I am sure it makes sense to you. Let me show you around white saviour daddy uwu" and far more of "you don't think I am domesticated to live in society, and I really don't see where you find the audacity to say that, since clearly you don't know shit."

[yandere-kokeshi]

How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering. 

A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!

Captain “Price” John:

Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table. 

“Sorry, what?” 

He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally. 

If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are. 

And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.

From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have. 

Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right? 

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you. 

“You bein’ serious?”

Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that? 

“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side. 

But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.

If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away. 

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned. 

“Wait– what was that?” 

Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part. 

“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you. 

Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you. 

But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him. 

Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.

 —

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time. 

“I– beg your pardon?” 

He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two. 

Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”

And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying. 

Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t. 

—

König:

He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek. 

“Hase, what’d you say?” 

He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you? 

“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?” 

He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.

He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight. 

As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots. 

—

Nikolai: 

Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip. 

“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”

He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?” 

Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate. 

And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no? 

Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd. 

[simplyreveries]

Hello! I would like to make a request for Riddle, Kalim, Ortho, and Malleus (gn reader, platonic or romantic. except for Ortho, platonic for him)

How would they react to finding out that the reader wasn't allowed to celebrate their birthday back home and has never had a birthday party?

riddle rosehearts

I have a feeling riddle never really had experienced a birthday party himself, unless it was someone like trey or che'nya doing some little kid attempt at giving him one during their childhood and that is until he came to nrc and got to feel that more. Yes, riddle is saddened when he hears that you've never gotten to have one yourself more so greatly upset. you’re the last person he would ever think deserves to have that happen to, he will make sure to go completely out of his way with the help of trey and other dormmates he made help to ensure that your first birthday would be positively perfect..! riddle really wouldn't accept anything less than best for you.

because of his own experiences with… unpleasant birthdays he knows what a dreadful feeling it can be so it only amps up his own feelings into making it good for you. The roses will be painted your favorite colors, he’ll make sure trey makes you the tastiest cake/pastries of your liking, decorations are of your taste he is going above and beyond here. ace and deuce even make sure to tread more lightly around him as he's invested in this… they cannot cause any trouble on your special day hjsdjklsdg

all he can think about is the smile that will be on your face once you've seen what he has done, at least he can hope so. he frets about choosing a gift for you, but he’d settle for something small but sentimental like a necklace. his tension and initial worry do seem to evaporate when he sees you having a good time, he feels a sense of relief and simply cannot keep his eyes off of you.

kalim al asim

kalim literally cannot fathom this... he is immediately planning and preparing your birthday as soon as he hears about it and yes, it's going to be his best one yet (”kalim my birthday is in two months-”) he talks to jamil all the time about his plans and how it's going to be absolutely perfect for someone as perfect as you. kalim really is observant, especially towards you— he knows what you like and will implement any of that into this celebration of yours.

I don't just mean a big loud party with a bunch of people— kalim already knows if that really isn't your thing but trust me, he will still go above and beyond even if it's just some sleepover with him and some friends of yours. we haven't even discussed the amounts of gifts you’ll be receiving. I 100% believe he’d be like giving you some gift every day in your birth month, he’ll claim they're all to make up for the birthday gifts you didn't receive growing up.

on the day of your birthday, you could look at what he’s done and be like “isn't this a bit-” “too little??” hahaha. he is so full of energy that day; he tries to get you to dance with him even if it's just him making some fool of himself to get you to laugh. because, despite all the things he does and gets you objectively kalim’s priority is to see you happy and laughing throughout the day. that will be his biggest reward.

ortho shroud

ortho knows you pretty well, he does analyze people incredibly. so, he can easily understand what exactly it'd bd you’d want for a birthday… the issue may be is how do you get a bunch of people to celebrate something in ignihyde?? he’d settle to making some surprise party for you at ramshackle and drag idia to help him out. Along with the other first years.

he would make sure to let others like grim, ace, deuce, and the ghosts that live in ramshackle know what he’s doing as he still asks for some advice from them quite often. it's cute to see how serious he takes it; he gets all stern with people like ace or grim to make absolutely sure they don't spill and reveal the little celebration they're setting up for you, it's almost a little intimidating until he switches a 180 to a cheerful and excited demeanor when the plans seem to be going his way.

the party would end up becoming some sleepover with him and the first years, a little chaotic, but really fun. on top of that, ortho is getting his own experiences with things like this with friends for the first time too and he loves it.

malleus draconia

he has had spent most of his birthdays, rather lonely. i mean, he literally doesn't like cakes for the fact that they once gave made him sick because he didn't have really anyone to split it with. not to mention, his birthdays may become quite repetitive and boring with his years of age. however, he almost seems confused when you mention that you’ve never really have had one before. malleus believed that it was normal for humans to always have one, it's what he's been the most exposed to.

malleus could not stop getting that fact of you out of his mind, he seemed to be troubled and lost in thought on how to make you feel better about it. most likely, coming to lilia for help since he’s usually the one to do birthdays, obviously. of course, malleus would be quite happy and excited even to have one celebrated for you at diasomina— silver is quick to suggest he handle cake after past experiences with lilias cooking and baking skills.

he tries to actually keep to a surprise but he’s so obvious about it as he can't help but feel excited as he awaits your reaction to it all. you could ask him one night outside of ramshackle if he's planning a party for you and he’d chuckle and be like “am i?” (disappears??). he doesn't seem to leave your side once the day comes, content and pleased with how happy you seem. you’ll catch him staring at you the whole time as you go about your day, blow out candles for the first time, open gifts (which are obviously some rare, expensive accessory from him) and experience what it’s like for the very first time.

[sabertoothwalrus]

hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?

I've talked about it before here and here!

But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing

So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.

Together Again did not do this.

It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?

And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?

It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.

I think Together Again should have gone like this:

Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.

Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.

There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.

By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!

“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.