#is that what you were looking for anon?

[tunemyart]

So I've just watched the finale and I'm feeling... Weird. I think part of it is because this show started with everything I like in a story (cool badass ladies, a queer romance, found family, redemption, etc etc) and ended up being... Not all that (most characters die, the romance is doomed, and I guess the redemption mostly happened but wasn't entirely satisfactory to me). Also, I'm someone who as Trauma (tm) with death so, I guess my brain's first reaction is "fuck that I just want them all happy and safe" and it takes me a while to accept when stories take these paths, however well written they might be.

Still, I thought it all went a bit fast in the last 2 eps, with parts of the show ringing just a little bit more hollow than I would have expected? I'm left feeling like the characters of Alice, Mrs Hart and Jen were treated a bit superficially (Lillia's story felt more complete). I also wished we had seen more of Agatha's past because spending centuries just conning witches then killing them is... a bit boring? (maybe we learn more about her in WandaVision, I haven't seen it). And obviously I wished we had seen more of Agatha and Rio. It's like the show couldn't decide if it was about Agatha or about Billy (partly because, I'm guessing it's setting up a 3rd show about him?), and with this short format we ended losing a bit on Agatha's part.

Anyway, curious of what you think of all that because your analysis are always super interesting, and like I said my own brain might be a bit biased towards resistance with this one. And obviously would love to read your fanfic(s) should you write any!

So, I've started and restarted a reply to this a few times, but I think what my answer boils down to is: we're meant to have multilayered responses to this finale. We're meant to sit with it. It's meant to change our experience of the show we've had to this point.

I think the best metaphor for this is the fact the revelation that Rio is Death. Bear with me, because I know this got spoiled for us way early on and we all knew it and were all just waiting for the revelation to drop - but imagine for a second that we didn't know that Rio, Agatha's ex-girlfriend and spooky fun vaguely-a-psychopath as played by the delightful Aubrey Plaza, is death. Your perception of Rio would have been turned on its head. Your perception of Agatha would have been turned on its head. Your perception of the Witches' Road and what we're even doing here with Death walking alongside us as a tourist would have been turned on its head.

Now, we all had an incredibly fun time even with the knowledge that Rio is death before we should have had it. But I think some of the power for what it meant for the story - and our perception of what was really happening - was muted.

Jen, at the beginning of 1.08, says, "She told us who she was from the very beginning."

Sit with that - because the same is true of this story.

---

It turns out that the Road is a metaphor for death. This isn't fully illustrated for us until Nicky, the author of the Ballad, walks down the road with Death's hand in his, and we go, oh. Oh.

Agatha tells us in the beginning that the Road doesn't exist, a rare instance of her giving anyone unbridled truth. And sure - the Road that our coven walked down doesn't exist. The Road that all the witches Agatha lured to the deaths believed in doesn't exist. It's a fiction. But it's significant that Agatha lured them all to the Road and killed them. They wanted to walk the Road. They died. Not "they died instead" - it's a two-fold statement. They wanted to walk the Road and they died. In a gruesome way, Agatha's been taking witches on the Witches' Road since the 1750s.

I don't think the significance of that is lost on Agatha, either, especially where we pick up at the beginning of 1.08. Lilia's dead, and everybody's reeling.

Perhaps Agatha more than anybody.

---

I also want to quickly take a look at Rio's accusation of Agatha regarding Billy.

"The bodies are really piling up." "Did you doubt me?" "Yeah, I did. I thought there'd be a trick in there somewhere. And there was! You were distracting me from him."

Because this is a revelation about Agatha's actions toward not just Rio, but any audience watching her - i.e., us the viewers. She's been distracting us! Not from who Billy is, we know that of course, but with regard to what the Road itself is. Agatha's known the Road isn't real the entire time. She's been protecting Billy from that knowledge. She's been protecting Billy from Rio. She's been protecting the coven itself from disintegrating. And, the biggest con woman move of them all, she's been distracting us - with less and less success as the show goes on - from the fact that she is not even the slightest bit in control.

---

So I definitely want to circle back to what you said about how the show started out with everything you like in a story, because oof, yeah, I felt that. I felt that hard in the finale. Coming off the impact of the incredible storytelling in 1.07, and the queer jokes and campy Wicked cosplay balancing out the sad, I think many of us spent the next week expecting some kind of emotional resolution that probably involved the remaining coven banding together in some more of that found family we've felt them becoming along the way.

Here's where things starts going wrong, right off the bat: they don't. Instead, they splinter. Not only are you aware of just how few of them are left (Jen, Billy, Agatha), but Jen and Agatha can't handle Lilia's death. Jen's distraught. The close up on Agatha running away out of the trial and back onto the Road, alone, shows her looking hunted and wild in her guilt. Everything that follows has its seeds in that moment of rending that began with Lilia's death.

From the beginning, the point has been that Agatha Harkness is a covenless witch. It's something we've seen her revel in - maybe simply because she has no choice but to own it. But the fact is that here, for the first time in centuries, she had a coven. She didn't intend to have one - she intended to kill them all in her basement and not think twice about them again. But events transpired the way they did. They became her coven. And one by one, they all died on the Road.

Rio, of course, has the words to cut right to the quick: "Your coven is shrinking," she teases Agatha cruelly. Agatha looks wild - because she's right. The worst thing is that she killed Alice - and she didn't mean to. She didn't want to. But she did, and in exactly the same way she'd intended to kill her at the beginning, the same way she's been killing witches for hundreds of years. "Your coven is shrinking," and it's Agatha's fault. It's Agatha's coven. It's Agatha's coven.

Hold on to that, too.

---

One of the things that I've been mulling over most is Agatha's character. She's so much fun in the beginning. We're all fucking charmed by her. We also don't have the full context of just how much of a serial killer she is.

So for me, at least, watching 1.08 and not only not getting found family, but getting an Agatha so far away from a "redemption" story that she only just barely is willing to not sacrifice Billy for herself, was kind of a rude awakening. Agatha's a lot more of a villain that I was prepared for. Surprise!

Agatha's so far away from "redemption", in fact, that she's only just barely starting to feel empathy for other witches. She's just starting to be affected by people who aren't #1. And that's a trauma response. And it's so, so, so deeply rooted in her that she's only just starting to be able to conceive of the idea of people who care for her. Of the possibility of being able to live in community. She's not ready for a redemption arc. There was no way that the kind of redemption arc she'd need could fit into nine episodes, because so much of it would for her be predicated on a mental shift that Agatha just hasn't arrived at yet. She's still so angry. She's still so traumatized. She's done almost none of the work. And even at the end, even with the final gesture of sacrificing herself for Billy, that's not a final act of redemption, oh Agatha's now a good person/forgiven/insert word frame of choice.

What this show did in terms of redemption for Agatha was set her up to be in a place where she might want it - where she might want to do and be better for Billy, and someday, for Nicky.

And it's significant that that point comes for Agatha in dying… and after death.

---

This show is about death. The Road is about death. Death is a character on the show.

Like, okay, you're saying. Fine. But what about my gay fun times? What about my queer romance, my found family?

And please know that I'm there with you.

I'm not hugely in touch with what the larger fandom is saying and how they're reacting because I have my little echo chamber here on tumblr and a few friends who have actual social media, but even here I get the sense that we're all kind of :/ for fairly similar reasons. What happened to the show I fell in love with?

And for me, the last few days, I think it's been important to realize that the fact that the show I fell in love with didn't suddenly become a different show. It didn't pull a bait and switch. No twists were in bad faith. Everything has been right here in the text of the show from the very beginning.

And I think it's important to see the story that Jac Schaeffer et al. were actually telling vs. our expectations of what they were telling, or worse, what we wanted them to tell. For just one example, I was convinced we were going to see Alice again - maybe Lorna Wu, too. I wasn't expecting it to be for the sole purpose of recognizing that not only is she dead, but to give Alice herself the space to say that it wasn't fair, that she wasn't ready, that she'd just broken her family's curse, that now she can really do something with her life! Because, ugh, yeah! It's not fair, for all those reasons! But that's also death. Likewise, Sharon's just dead, and worse, her death was pretty much meaningless. Lilia rediscovered herself again, and she chose her death to save everyone else - extremely meaningful. But at the end - she's just dead. We don't see her again. She's gone. She, like the others, walked the Road and away with Death.

I loved these covenless witches. I loved them finding themselves together. I loved them bonding around the campfire and discovering community. I miss them all, so so much. But they told us from the beginning how haunted by death all of them were: Alice and her mom, Lilia and her coven in Sicily, Billy and William Kaplan, Agatha and her son and her ex-lover. And of course, Death herself. Forget haunting these individuals - she came to actually join the temporary coven. Like, fuck. They told us what this show was about.

---

This show is about death, but it's more complicated than that: we'll take our cue from Rio again, who, in being Death, is also the original Green Witch. In short, this show is about Green Craft, "growth and decay in constant flow."

So yes - almost every single witch in the coven dies. Yes, it's permanent. No, the queer romance isn't resolved happily. No, Agatha doesn't have a redemption, satisfying or otherwise. And no, none of it follows what we've come to expect from found family story trajectories.

But the focus shouldn't be solely on the decay. There's a whole cycle of growth coming up after it, even now, and it's being made possible by the death and decay that we just witnessed. And most importantly, it's confirmed that this isn't the end of the story - just the end of "Agatha All Along."

---

I'll finish by actually answering your question - I've been sitting with the finale for a few days, because I also felt weird about it. And I think that's the right word: "Weird." Very spooky season-esque, first of all, but also not tipping all the way right into "bad".

The first thing to acknowledge is that no story is perfect - they were limited by nine episodes by what they had the space to show, and finales are really hard to get just right. The second is that you're allowed to not like any or all of it, especially when something happens that asks you to change your entire understanding of the story thus far, i.e. the Road isn't real, or when you have a particular trauma around death and it turns out that that's what the whole show is about in ways we hadn't fully realized. The third is that it's worth sitting with stories sometimes and seeing how they marinate and develop in your brain and your soul over time. All of these things can and should coexist.

This isn't my first go-round with a series finale that initially made me ???, so I was fortunate in that I felt like I had a cheat sheet. I've still got some marinating to do to see how this continues to change for me. But it's helped me to realize that my ??? reaction is what the story wanted me to have - that the characters are reeling right along with me. Not just Alice in shock about her death, but also Billy at the implications of his creation of the Road regarding his responsiblity for what happened on it. We're meant to feel this way… and then we're meant to reconsider the journey we've been on, the Road we've walked with all of them and the death we've died alongside them, and see it anew for what it really is.

[chilschuck]

May i requests imagines for chilchuck with an s/o that kisses rough? Not sexy biting rough but like those big dogs that throw themselves at their owners lmao!! Id like to see how youthink chilchuck would react ♡

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ this is so cute WAHHH!!! i hope i did it how you wanted, i took rough as more so messy and sloppy, which i thought would be fun to write!! i hope you enjoy anon, and so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you!!!

— CHILCHUCK HCS: x reader who gives messy kisses.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + gn!reader! fluffy goodness.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 550

✦ i’m still working on requests from april, so i’m so sorry to those of you who are still waiting for theirs!! i will get them out soon, i promise!! (;;w;;) lots of love to you and i hope you enjoy!!! <333

✦ Chilchuck isn’t sure what to think the first time you pull him in with messy kisses. I can imagine it’s a bit shocking to him to suddenly have his nose, cheeks, and lips smothered with smooches like that, so expect him to stop and process that for a moment.

✦ Once his cheeks are done burning and his nose is finished crinkling up, he’ll complain and grumble about it for sure. Be prepared for Chil to wave you off and act like he didn’t like it. (We all know he did.)

✦ Imagine approaching him as he works on something at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration. You just can’t help but pull his face to you, licking your lips before he can utter a word and absolutely splaying kisses all over him. In between each obnoxious kissing sound is his voice complaining about the sudden barrage. You can’t help it, you tell him after. He’s just so handsome!

✦ It gets to the point where he hears you approach and he jumps, eager to defend his face from your lips. You pout a bit about it once, telling him you’ll stop giving him those messy kisses and he spends the rest of the afternoon silently thinking about the face you made.

✦ Expect him to get a little grumpy if you don’t walk past him while it’s just the two of you and pull him in for kisses. We know how this man is with affection, but imagine suddenly stopping your ministrations and leaving him with none at all. Chilchuck is going to eventually complain that you shouldn’t stop giving those to him. (Even if he acts like he doesn’t like it.)

“Hey.” His voice was softer but still a bit rough around the edges, pulling your attention from the task you busied yourself with.

“Can you… Do that thing you usually do?” Chilchuck continues after swallowing down his pride, that line between his brows appearing from how hard he’s furrowing his brow.

You blink, wracking your brain for what he could possibly be asking. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, grumbling a quiet, “The kisses, idiot.”

That gets you smiling. Stretching your arms out towards him, you give that mischievous look you always do before decorating his face with your lips. Chil moves between your legs as you press kiss after messy kiss along the light spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks, trailing them down to finally meet his lips. You are pleasantly surprised at how much he reciprocates in that moment.

✦ If you haven’t seen him for a long time and the first thing you do is pull him into a flurry of smooches, he’s going to get very flustered. Get ready for him to either grab your cheeks and pull you to his lips or for him to groan out as you speckle his cheeks in kisses.

✦ Either way, Chil is affection and touch starved, and will never admit that to you. Once you find out just how much he secretly enjoys your affections like this, you never let him hear the end of it. He’ll always be on the receiving end of your messy pecks and smooches, even if he acts like he doesn’t look forward to it.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <3

[dirtbagdefender]

[fistfuloflightning]

✨our golden boi Glorfindel! ✨

ehehe

“That is the last time you dump me in the river and go haring off just because Arwen gives you puppy-dog eyes.”

[arkarti]

No peepaw eggplant for us😔✊🏻

well, think again! there u have it 😌🙏

"happy now?"

[zevrra]

hii!! i hope your doing well, im not sure if your requests are open rn

but if they are open, can you please write for Gaara (naruto) x fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? (hand holding, hugs, etc)

🫶 thank you!!

A Shared Touch—

tags: anon request, 18+ characters, gaara x fem!reader, pure fluff, gaara’s love language is 100% physical touch, this is so sappy and lovey dovey jshshs

creator notes: thanks for requesting! hope this is what you had in mind (bc i had no idea what to do im so sorry i wrote this at 2 am kshssjh)!! but i also hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this! thanks again!! ❤️

Sunlight warms your face as you sit at a wooden table. You sit in silence with yourself. Accompanied only by the sound of a soft breeze and a few chirping birds. A range of flowers sits before you, ranging anything from chrysanthemum to peons. Besides the flowers sits a pair of scissors. Using them to cut stems off of a few flowers here and there as you put together a small bouquet.

“What are you doing?” A soft voice asks from inside the doorway to the greenhouse you sit inside of.

Turning to look at the source of the voice and you find your loving boyfriend. A smile as warm as the sun shines on his face and you can’t help but mimic it. “I couldn’t sleep. Came here to do some arranging.” You respond. Watching fondly as he makes his way to your side.

He still wears the clothes he had slept in. He must have just woken up and upon finding your side of the bed came straight out to look for you. The sleepy was still in his eyes even as they look upon you with love.

A chilly hand touches your shoulder, moving to soothe across your neck. His teal eyes glance at your project before looking back at you. “They look as beautiful as you do.” Gaara compliments you.

For the years you had been together it took him quite a while to willingly touch you. Skin on skin contact had been one of his biggest fears. For so long, anytime your hand would reach for his; you were met with a wall of sand. Any brush of skin would have him standing frozen in place. He had never done any of it on purpose though and you knew that. It was pure reflex for the deeply traumatized man. Now it almost felt like he never wanted to stop touching you. To never let you go so he would never have to fear being truly alone again.

You wave his compliment off with a smile. It was too early to be so sappy. You set down your scissors to fully turn and face Gaara. “What about you?” You ask curiously as you grab hold of his hand gently. “Off to some important kage meeting I assume?”

Gaara shakes his head, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a small kiss against your skin. “No, not yet anyway. Just missed you.” He admits with a shy look. Glancing from your pretty face to the flowers you had gotten up that morning to work on.

It was truly a miracle how far the two of you had come. Once, so long ago, he would never have reached for you first. Would have distanced himself as far as he could. But now he sought you out first. Missed you simply because you were not by his side the moment you both woke up. It made you feel wanted and loved. You could only hope he felt the same.

You stand with the help of your boyfriend. Leaning in to kiss him and he meets you halfway more than eagerly. After you two part, he guides you towards the door he had entered from as you two plan to return to your shared home.

“Let’s go make some breakfast.” You offer. Your fingers intertwine with his, giving his hand a tight squeeze. A reassuring gesture that you would never let him go either.

You’d have to return to your flowers later.

[shepscapades]

Why does Ren have 4 ears? Are they all real or is one set fake?

Hehe I’ve gotten this question a lot actually! They’re all real— I like to think hybridization isn’t always a clean balance of traits, so Ren just unfortunately ended up with two sets of ears— his Dog ears being much more receptive to sound, naturally— and sometimes when the extra intake of sound is too overwhelming, I imagine he wears earplugs in his human ears to help adjust :> it’s a bit weird, but idk! i like to make designs funky and nonconventional! I liked the idea that Ren had hearing struggles due to wonky hybridization and just kept the concept :>

[preeningpisces]

pleaaase could we get some more choso stuff? maybe some more nsfw headcanons if you have them or if not then some drabble of him being a Little Freak (endearing)?? anything that you'd feel like tbh <33

Omfg of course!! I actually have a lil fic I’m working on for him rn, so hopefully I won’t take too much longer. Love me some freak Choso. Thank you for taking the time to send this!

Hopefully this isn't too weird, lol

Choso being a lil freak

Content: fingering, masturbation, handjob, mild dacryphilia, ear eating, saliva, use of good boy and baby

18+ content below, mdni, afab!reader, enjoy!

The TV drones in the background as you scroll through your phone, leaning into the arm of the couch. Anxious anticipation rolls off your boyfriend. You don’t have to look to know he’s fidgeting with the blanket, trying his best to focus on the show—an episode of How It’s Made, his favorite. It’s obvious what he wants, it’s what he always wants when you’re around, but he remains bashful nonetheless. Amused, you let him stew in discomfort, wanting to see how long it takes for him to crack.

He adjusts himself and scoots closer to you, in what you think was an attempt at subtly. A smirk threatens to split your mouth, and you can feel your lips wobble from the effort of resisting. What was once fiddling with the blanket becomes a bouncing leg, drumming fingers, and more frequent glances. Laughter presses against the seam of your lips when he sighs, but you keep it at bay. You’re as focused on your phone as he is on the TV; his energy is contagious and makes your desire spark. But right now, you just want to antagonize him.

Sex is a recent development in your relationship, and ever since you gave Choso the keys to the kingdom, he wants it all the time. Not that you mind. Introducing your boyfriend to sex in all its forms has been fun, to say the least. This isn’t cruelty: you’re just building his confidence to initiate, you tell yourself. Not two minutes later, he says your name in question. Innocently, you set your phone aside, giving him your full attention.

“Do you…?”

“Do I what, Choso?” It’s clear he didn’t anticipate any pushback, because looks ready to retreat.

“Can we?” His stare is intense and imploring as he rests a hand on your knee.

“Oh, I don’t know, this article is pretty interesting” — a lie. When he deflates with puppy eyes, you feel too guilty to not throw him a bone. “But I could be persuaded.” Confusion flits over his face; he really does need everything laid out for him, doesn’t he? “I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing, unless something more tempting comes along,” you say, and with no further explanation, return to your scrolling. You know this worked even though he hasn’t moved, because he’s wringing his hands and mulling over his next step.

Maybe you are cruel. Just a bit.

An unsure arm winds around your hip, and pulls you away from the armrest to sit upright. With a delicate press to your jaw, he turns your head to kiss him, but you pull back.

“Ah, ah—you can’t turn me away or block the screen.” Now understanding the game, he nods with wide eyes. “Good boy.” Excited, he sits right next to you, but doesn’t remove his hold on your hip. Hesitant kisses tickle your jaw and neck—more endearing than distracting. The complete lack of reaction prompts Choso to trail from your jaw to your chest, and cup your right breast.

A post makes you laugh, and you feel him bristle beside you. Riled up, he squeezes your breast harder than you thought he would, and goes for your nipple. Choso absolutely loves your breasts, it’s no shock he sought them out first. What is shocking is how aggressively he’s touching them. Normally, his touch is irreverent and pleading. A weak pinch makes you flinch, but you keep your focus.

“Is that okay?” 

“All I said is you can’t turn me or block the screen,” you say vaguely, allowing his imagination to fill in the rest. A sharp pinch is his reply, making you gasp. Tentative kisses are forgotten as he breathes into your ear, now more focused on the weight in his hand. Wearing no bra, there’s only a thin t-shirt between you and his fondling; rolling your nipple around and tugging it occasionally. As if just remembering he has one, he mouths at your jaw, and gently nips at your ear. The sweet attention makes you hum, your eyes hooded as you lazily continue scrolling, barely paying attention to what you see.

Suddenly, the kisses stop, and his hold on you relaxes. You fight the urge to look at him. Is this his way of playing, or is something wrong? Before you can ask, his lips rest at your ear, barely touching. Anticipation stills your shoulders, and you stare at the screen blankly as you wait for him to do something. Those lips press against your ear, and stop, gauging your reaction. When there is none, he kisses your ear fully, gently.

You expect him to move on, but one kiss becomes two, then three, then doesn’t stop at all; his head angles, and his kiss becomes more passionate, fully making out with your ear now. It tingles, and despite your bewilderment, you let out a breathy whine. Emboldened, he introduces his tongue, which licks at the planes and ridges. Cheeks hot and appalled, you shriek his name—he squeezes your hip so hard it could bruise.

Normally, he would release you and frantically make sure you’re alright, but your taunting must have affected him more than expected.The odd sensation makes you squirm, but you stubbornly grip your phone, and don’t turn to him. This only cues him to pull at your nipple with a twist, making you arch and moan.

He’s quick to move on; his hand dips under the waistband of your sweats, then your panties, and wastes no time rubbing soft circles around your clit. As if touching your pussy wasn’t enough, his tongue dips into your ear’s canal, making you nearly drop your phone. It doesn’t go far, but enough that it’s oddly sensitive. Sounds cut in and out, like you’ve dived into a pool and swam back up. Embarrassingly, you feel yourself throb.

“You’re really wet,” Choso says, and immediately returns to assaulting your ear. His bluntness only makes you more mortified, and the nerves in your neck and jaw prickle. The attentive circles are consistent, and keep a steady pace, which only drives you crazy, noises spilling from you freely. With his mouth covering your ear, you can’t tell how loud you are—every sound you make blares internally, as if you’re listening to yourself through earbuds. Your sounds arouse more of his own, overwhelming your mind. You can’t even hear the TV anymore, or the sticky sounds you know your pussy is making.

So enwrapped in pleasure, you hadn’t even noticed Choso was humping the air, his moans somehow both stifled and amplified. Unable to resist, you toss your phone and cup his bulge, letting him grind into your hand. Abandoning your hip, he helps you slide his sweats and boxers down his hips, cock twitching with need once it's exposed to the cool air. You wrap you hand around his cock and stroke him making his legs tremble. The hand previously on your hip winds back around you to continue stroking your clit, while the other slides two fingers in your needy cunt. 

“Oh, fuck–oh fuck,” you belt, grinding against his hands, helping him find your g-spot. When he grazes it, you shout his name, and he strokes it with every thrust of his fingers. “Yes, baby, just like that.”

The steady pace fumbles when you spit in your palm and continue stroking him. He chokes on a gasp and sucks the shell of your ear in his mouth; it’s the most you’ve been able to hear since he began, but the leftover saliva prevents you from hearing clearly. You twist slightly as you stroke upward, squeezing near his head. Even with the lingering saliva, you’re finally blessed with the wet sounds of his cock and your pussy.

“Please—ah—please cum,” his high-pitched and needy voice doesn’t match the way he roughly fingerfucks your pussy, stretching it with spread fingers and pushing your hood back to attack your clit. Overwhelmed, you shiver as you approach your release; it isn’t until he resumes his lip lock with your ear and tongues at the canal that you come with a keen. “T-that’s it, you look so pretty when you c-cum.”

Your body locks up as your stomach twists from the convulsions, and your pussy clenches around him nonstop, but he doesn’t let up until you still. He covers your limp hand with his own, and he pumps his cock furiously, chasing his end. Gripping one of his buns, you smash your lips together. Distantly, you expected a waxy taste, but were relieved to find none. Tongues graze, drool pools, and he makes debauched sounds when you pinch his tongue between your fingers.

“Are you gonna cum?” You pull his tongue tauntingly and squeeze around his cock. When he nods instead of answering, you pinch it harder, and his cheeks go redder than you’ve ever seen them.

“Yeth, I’-I-” he lets out long, continuous whimpers as he comes. Sensitive, he removes his hand, but you grip his wrist and make him stroke himself through it, thick cum leaking over your joined hands. Tears and drool roll down his face, but you keep stroking his cock with a sickening squelch. 

It’s only when he stops leaking cum that you release him, soothing him with kisses to his wet cheek before fetching the nearby water. The two of you lay against each other, now winded.

“I’m just going to address the elephant in the room: why did you stick your tongue in my ear?”

“You wouldn’t let me kiss you,” he shrugs, as if it was obvious. “I’m glad you liked it, though.”

“I did not!”

“Okay, if saying that makes you feel be-” you smother him with a throw pillow. 

Next time, you’ll think twice before giving Choso the reins to do whatever he wants. 

[peterparkcr]

Sam + kissing Mon’s hand

GAP THE SERIES

[roguescum]

Luffy being zoros dom is so true. Do u think luffy uses his conqueror's haki with zoro? Maybe they "fight" to see who has the strongest haki and zoro just crumbles when he feel how strong luffy is?

short answer: yes

long answer: hell yes

longer answer (with pictures): ⚠️

i think this is straight up how their first time figuring this out about each other went. wrassling with the boys is all fun and games until your homie moans out loud

it takes luff roughly 6 seconds to figure out what that sound just was and why he made it but the second he reaches the conclusion

'zoro liked that'

it triggers his predator hunting instincts and hes a man on a fucking mission to see what else makes him tick. up until this point bro has never really given sex or bodies a second thought it just sounded boring to him but once he makes the connection of 'oh he WANTS to get broken. i LOVE breaking things. and zoro is my FAVORITE thing :D' its so fucking over

they are of course also tender sometimes but they both frankly prefer being a little more beast than man and they express themselves to each other like 2 very large very dangerous animals . deeply affectionate in each others perspective but horrifying to passing bystanders

absolutely NOT safe NOT sane but rest assured zoror is more into this than hes been into anything in his entire life

[thewiglesswonder]

You know the TFA Decepticons aren’t an oppressed minority right? DJW even said their Rise Up rhetoric was a jab at how conservatives preach about Protecting Freedoms, and in the Allspark Almanac it’s explained they wanted to colonize other planets and the Autobots objected to that. The Decepticons were exiled for being military fascists.

I'd really, really love to know where I've ever said that on this blog, but since you seem very convinced that I did, let's look at the lore again. I don't feel like trawling the internet for this specific tweet/whatever form this DJW evidence has, so if you have that, I'd love to see it.

This timeline from the Allspark Almanac II pretty clearly states that the entire crux of Cybertronian society as a whole has rested on colonization, very early on in their species' history. Their "Golden Age" 8 billion stellar cycles ago is characterized by expansion that led to the colonization (!!!) of their solar system, further colonization only prevented by isolationism.

The earliest indications of the factional split that mark their history exist within the ruling class Guardians and the Malignus, defined as a "military caste". This implies that Golden Age Cybertron existed as a caste system. Which I would take a guess as not being particularly great.

And when we get to the first (again, quoted from the text here,) "military coup", it's executed by the political ancestors of the Autobots. Not a peep about the Malignus while that was going on.

This faction eventually becomes the Protectobots, and the most notable thing about them is that their leader attempted a Great Purge of "undesirable elements" from their society. I'd be hard pressed to think I'm wrong in thinking that's kinda fucked up. We're not given explicit reasons for this 17 million year war, but wars don't happen without someone to oppose someone else, and we get this in the form of the Destrons.

As for the point about colonization: my point is not that the Decepticon's motivations are not what we see in canon. Not at all. My point is that the Autobots have the same fucking motivation.

The Age of Expansion literally begins when the Autobots take power! It only ends when they butt heads with the Quintessons! Colonization, militarism, and facism, as you put it, are not traits that are unique to Decepticons.

And, according to this timeline and historical reasoning given, there is no mention of either faction's position on further expansion. The formation of the Decepticons is rooted in the divide between labor and military aligned Cybertronians. Both sections are equally responsible for the imperialistic efforts of their Empire/Commonwealth/whatever you want to call it, and make no mistake, this does continue into the present day! From both factions!

Assuming you're referring to my hefty lean towards the Cons in terms of character/exploration interest in the gist of your message, my goal here is not to elevate them to the same Good Guy Status the Autobots have by virtue of being the protagonists. I am fully and completely aware that they are a group of insane zealots that have rallied under a guy who was described by his own VA as an "elegant bully". Rather, I think what you're picking up on is my focus on the fact that the Autobots in Animated have more than their fair share of insidious shit going on.

They retain what is essentially a military dictatorship, with the position of Magnus being only theoretically beholden to the will of the Council and Guilds, as seen when Sentinel was able to fire Fortress Maximus with no approval from the Council and got nothing more than a disapproving sentence from Alpha Trion. We have no word on how their schooling institutions work, but all of it seems heavily centered on their version of the military they've concocted in the absence of warbuilds. And, just in case we forgot about Sentinel's proposed budget...

And that's not even getting into how fucked up Autobot culture is! They're unspeakably xenophobic, throw around propagandistic phrases like they're nothing ("Cogs in the Great Autobot Machine", anyone?), have an incredibly questionable justice system if Wasp is anything to go by, and this only seems to be getting worse at the end of Season 3, if Sentinel's curfews and public service announcements are anything to go by.

I'm not trying to make the Decepticons look better. I'm trying to make the Autobots look worse.

[shakingparadigm]

It's a bit silly that found it unlikely for Luka and Till to be the final match back then. The more that I thought about it, the more it made sense. Sure, Luka and Ivan are incredibly similar in terms of personality and image, but in terms of circumstance Luka and Till are opposite sides of the same coin. I really couldn't envision a better matchup.

[cator99]

out of curiosity, would you consider yourself butch?

used to be a blonde underweight twink and now I'm a based jock still got the chanel bag and the sick albeit matured mind of a suckpig to prove it so I'm gonna let you decide whether you wanna call me that word just cuz I got a pussy and short hair. I promise you that there have been enough advancements made in the art of lesbian sexual dynamics in the past 50 years to broaden the vocabulary used to describe the plethora of types of masculine females.

[toxintouch]

how do you think the lis would respond if mc sheepishly asked if they could fondle their tiddies? (even mhin, even though i KNOW they'd shank a bitch.)

Here ya go, Anon!! :3 They pronouns & non-specific language/MC used. Suggestive, but no other warnings.

AIS:

Pretends he doesn’t hear them.

“Hmm?”  He holds a hand to his ear, a toothy little smirk on his face, his scarred eyebrow raised.  The way he’s making direct eye contact is an unmistakable challenge.

“You wanna what now, Sparrow?” 

He knows exactly what MC said and they can tell.  He just wants to see if they'll say it again.  They didn’t sound so sure about whatever that request was just now…

His smirk grows when– (if?? But c’mon he’s so clearly saying yes, please) –

His smirk grows when they don’t back down.  He spreads his arms out in invitation, haori splaying open.

He’s patient for as long as he can stand once they get their hands on him but it isn’t long before he finds himself grabbing them by the wrists, pulling them closer.  Pressing his palms against the back of their hands to encourage them to make full, firm contact.  Haven’t they been warned?  He’s awfully greedy.

(And: if he purposely presses their touch against his heart for a moment, no one needs to know but him.)

VERE:

He gives them a blank look– a look unsettlingly similar to his hungry, flat eyed stare.  Though, it’s gone in an instant–so quick they might even be able to convince themself that they imagined it.  One blink and his entire expression is different, his tail swishing elegantly and with a flourish that can only be described as pleased.

“Well,” he purrs, “aren’t you just adorable?  I did tell you to ask next time you wanted to touch…  Very well then.  I’ll reward your ability to follow simple instructions.”  He relaxes luxuriously into the cushions of the divan that he’s resting on.  “Come along, then.  Fondle to your heart's content.  Don’t leave me waiting.”  He beckons to them with a crooked finger, tempting them closer, a haunting echo of their first meeting. 

Survival instincts be damned…he did give them permission…

He breathes a chuckle out as they touch him, his mouth hot against their ear as he buries a grin into their neck.

In the space of another breath, he’s flipped the two of them, leaving them pinned against the divan.

“You didn't think you were getting a single thing for free from me anymore, did you?  Tut tut.  After you treated my generosity so callously before?  From now on, I’ll be expecting payment in kind.  Quid pro quo, darling.”

KURAS:

He looks at them, eyes crinkled with amusement.  “Am I to take it that your interest is academic?  Studying anatomy, perhaps?  I do have a few select texts I could offer you which you might find quite beneficial.”

The embarrassed look on their face seems to amuse him further, the corners of his lips tugging up as he takes in their expression.

“Of course, the benefits of a more hands-on method of scholarship should not be overlooked.”  He takes pity on them, beckoning them over as he takes a seat on the doctor’s stool, right next to the cot where they first met him.  He neatly removes his coat, folding it and laying it to rest beside him.  Despite their fears, he doesn’t start listing out the anatomical names for things as they lay their hands on him.  His eyes slip shut as they rest their hands on his  shoulders–he’s still so tall, even sitting on the low stool–sliding their hands down, admiring the sturdy form and shape of him.

His own hands come up, clutching around their waist with surprising strength.  His eyes are bright and intense as he looks up at them.  They expect him to say something but he merely squeezes them–Possessively?–

Like he might be able to trap them in this moment with him forever, through will alone.

He closes his eyes again; his grip loosens. His self-control back is back in its necessary place, and he finds himself repentant.

“Forgive me.  You are quite endearing.  I simply find you…difficult to resist.”  He admits.

MHIN:

You are so correct anon.  Shanked immediately.  But MC bonks their head into Mhin’s chest on their way to the ground, so…  Achievement Unlocked? Or, for MC’s sake, I’ll assume that they have earned a level of trust/intimacy with Mhin that makes Mhin a lil' less likely to get stabby.

Mhin’s eyebrows furrow as Mhin crosses their arms, physically creating distance between MC and their…

Mhin’s cheeks go a little red as they realize how obvious their body language is, their pale eyes darting to the side as they worry about what other things they’ve accidentally telegraphed to MC. How many of Mhin's true thoughts and feelings are they privy to...?  Shaking themself mentally, they quickly snap out of it, pinning MC with a pointed glare.

“If you value your life at all, you’ll never ask me that again.”  Mhin marches away.  “Staying at the Wet Wick–around Leander–has ruined your brain.  You need to get out of that place while you still have some grey matter left.”

. . .

Later, escorting MC back to said Wet Wick, ducking through the lesser known and narrower streets after a long day of following dead ends together, Mhin finds the thought ruining their own brain.  It must be the heat of MC pressed against them in the alleyway, the comforting, all-consuming scent of them, the memory of MC’s flushed face while they were asking Mhin’s permission...  MC’s much braver than them, Mhin thinks bitterly, so much more willing to let themself have what they want, despite their cursed hands.  Mhin sighs, stopping abruptly.  Turning.  Pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Look–you can–”

Mhin feels themself blushing all the way down to their chest.  They open their mouth and close it a couple of times, attempting to articulate what they want.  They make a noise of aggravated frustration.  Carefully–very carefully, and very slowly, so that MC knows exactly what they are doing, they reach for the bandaged hands at MC’s side.  They rest MC’s hands lightly on their chest, shivering as they feel the brush of fingers against their clothed ribs, thumbs pressing into their sternum.  They bite down a noise that would surely make them perish where they stand.  Stars above, how long since–

“...Does your heart always beat this fast, Mhin?”

“Quiet.”  They snap.

Wow Mhin.  Right there in the alleyway huh?  Well ok then. I see what ur about.

LEANDER:

The two of them are alone in the room at the Wet Wick, just sitting together innocently on the bed when MC asks.

Well–they try to ask.

He hears them start the question and his coat and shirt (and tiddie belt) are coming off before they can even finish.  He gives them a quiet chuckle, blushing as his shirt(s) get caught at his shoulders. 

Though the perfect way it frames his boobs might convince them he did it on purpose…

“You meant skin to skin, right?”  He laughs again, leaning back on his hands and looking entirely too appetizing–is he arching his back a little more than necessary? 

“I don’t mind at all! Though, if you could help me with…”  His eyes crinkle as he smiles at them, head tilted like a puppy, waiting expectantly.

They get up from the bed to help him discard his remaining topmost layers of clothing, standing above him in order to better assist.  His eyes are pinned to theirs the moment the fabric barrier is fully cast aside.  “I…can’t say this is a bad view,” he admits, eyes roving along their form, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  Then, more sincerely: “I’m glad that you asked me for this.  Don’t be afraid to touch, all right?  Nothing bad will happen to me, promise. Remember: whatever you want.”

They find themself feeling along the edges of his scar, tracing the line of it across his pectoral…  His breath catching when they accidentally scratch him a little with their nails (MC is just a little clumsy–that was completely unintentionally, really) is dangerously addictive.

“Ah... Anywhere else you’d like to touch?  It would be a shame to waste this opportunity…”

If they're feeling shy, he could offer a few suggestions.  He really, really wants to help in any way he can. :)

BONUS!ELYON:   “You can, but I will have to charge.”

[mousy-nona]

Hey this is the anon that had requested the mpreg story with Lucifer havin a drunken night with Alastor that lead to him having a child with Alastor that he didn't know about until Alastor brought the young boy to the hotel. I just want to say that the first part is really good as I see it as a prompt plot backstory that leads into the prompt itself

PART TWOOO 

Less porn, but still some porn, then mostly plot.

You have been warned.

Later that night

Alastor sneered and tried to buck him off again, but this time Lucifer was prepared. His angelic grace kept the bastard pinned into place as Lucifer lowered himself to Alastor’s weeping cock. 

“Now, that’s not very fair,” he scolded. Alastor stared daggers at him, but he couldn’t quite hide the hitch in his breath as Lucifer’s hot breath washed over his sensitive skin. “You had your turn. It’s my turn now.” 

“Fuck. You.” 

A tentative lick was all it took to send Alastor’s head careening back, every muscle in his body clenched as Lucifer sucked on the head of his cock with reckless abandon. The sounds that were coming out of his garbled throat – his heaving chest slick with sweat and desire – his clenched teeth, Lord, his eyes, hazy and drugged with pleasure as he watched Lucifer bob on his dick…

It was almost too much. One wrong move, and Lucifer thought he might cum again. Patience. He forced himself to go slower, to enjoy every waking second of this already half-forgotten dream. 

Alastor groaned. “Coming,” he managed, his voice hoarse as his hips shot up. 

“No you’re not.” 

“Wha–”

Lucifer squeezed the base of his shaft with his fist, stopping the seed from surfacing. His cock strained, swollen and red with pressure as Alastor cried out, his large body twisting wildly under Lucifer’s golden grip. His back arched, his heels dug in hard, his shadows whipping and snarling as he strained to get free, to release. 

Lucifer had never seen anything more erotic in his long, long life. 

“Lucifer!” Alastor, that cold, cruel, merciless soul, sounded close to begging. The radio static had nearly faded from his voice. With a shiver, Lucifer realized that, for the first time, he was hearing Alastor. The real Alastor. 

“Not yet,” Lucifer groaned, wondering if it was possible to come without touching himself at all. He licked his finger and pressed it between Alastor’s legs, the tight hole clenching and gripping his finger as he continued working Alastor’s dick. 

There was a low moan, but otherwise Alastor didn’t put up any more of a fight. His large frame was trembling, his whole self shaking with the need for release. His eyes were glassy, twin rubies shining through the dark as he watched Lucifer with overwhelming need. 

“Lâche-moi,” he whispered.

Let me go.

“Soon,” he whispered. 

He pushed another finger in, and then another. Alastor let his head fall back, his chest heaving, the sizzle of static and sex heavy in the air. Finally, Lucifer withdrew his hand and pressed himself against Alastor’s loosened hole. 

He leaned forward and captured Alastor’s mouth with his own. The wild animal he was, Alastor slashed at his lips with his teeth, gold blood and spit and pre-cum mixing in an unholy trinity as their tongues fought against each other, sloppily, angrily, violently. It was no more a kiss than it was a battle for dominance. There was nothing tender to it. Nothing sweet or loving. 

So that was how he wanted to play this? 

Lucifer snapped his hips forward, nearly losing himself immediately as his cock was swallowed by the tight ring of muscle. Alastor howled, feeling himself filled, claimed. His eyes flashed, but the anger was quickly replaced by ecstasy as Lucifer found the spot, found it over and over again. Both of them were spiraling quickly, their bodies still oversensitized from the last round. Alastor growled, his long limbs twisting and flexing, his eyes widening as cries burst from him, his hips rolling forward to guide Lucifer’s cock deeper, harder. 

The waves of pleasure washed over Lucifer, coming faster and faster as he lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. He moved his hand down and grasped Alastor’s head in his palm. Alastor choked, his hips lifting, his back arching.

“Come.”

It was the magic word they’d both needed. Alastor clenched around him, a crazed shout ripping from his beautiful throat as Alastor’s unbelievable tightness milked every last drop from him. In that moment, the Heavens could have broken, and Lucifer wouldn’t have noticed. There was Alastor, and only Alastor. 

A whispered “Lucifer,” was the last thing he heard as the darkness claimed him.  -------------------------------

Lucifer woke up the next morning to a throbbing head, an aching ass, and an empty bed, in that order. Alastor was long gone – or maybe he hadn’t been there at all? Could it have been a dream? 

He rolled over in his sheets – and promptly smacked himself in the face with the remnants of his torn clothes. Ow. Okay, not a dream, then. 

Which only left one question: How the Hell was he going to face Alastor? 

But he needn’t have worried. When he made his way down to the kitchen, the table was set for six, not seven, and Husk was the one leaning over a merrily crackling pan, not Alastor. Lucifer had never seen the ex-Overlord in such high spirits. The cat was humming, for Chrissakes. 

“What are you so happy about?” 

“The annoying-ass deer moved outta here last night,” he crowed. “Back to whatever hellhole he crawled out of. Maybe he’ll actually stay there this time!” 

Husk was too busy whistling away to notice Lucifer disappear.

Alastor’s room. His radio station. The lobby. Every dark and shadowy corner. Even Rosie’s shop. Cannibal Colony. Lucifer searched, and searched, and found nothing.

The demon was gone, as surely as if he’d never existed in the first place.  -------------------------------

Days passed, then weeks, then months, and still no sign of Alastor. The others moved on, some faster than others (Husk, who’d damn near thrown a party the first night he’d left), some later (Charlie, who cried for days when she thought no one was looking), but one by one the mentions of Alastor disappeared. Time ticked forward. The world marched on.

Lucifer, though, never stopped looking. Never stopped staring at shadows, never stopped seeing antlers out of the corner of his eye. 

And then, on the fourth anniversary of his disappearance, there was a knock on the door. 

Because life loves symmetry, it was Charlie who answered. The rest of them crowded around the lobby behind her, each one mentally ticking off the names that mattered and realizing none of them was missing. So who was at the door? 

“Welcome to–” Charlie stopped in the middle of her well-practised speech. She went as still as a statue for one breathless second. Then she screamed and jumped onto the tall, lean figure silhouetted in the doorway.

Lucifer’s mouth went dry. No. No, it couldn’t be. 

“Alastor!” Then she gasped, her gaze shifting to a smaller shape standing by Alastor’s side. “And who is this?” 

“This little one is Dio.” The radio static was so familiar and so heart-breaking at the same time, Lucifer felt he’d been shot through the chest with it. “He and I were staying at Rosie’s –”

“Aunt Rosie’s,” a higher voice piped up.

“Yes, Aunt Rosie’s,” Alastor obligingly amended. “We were staying at hers until things had…calmed down, somewhat.” 

“And do you really think you can come barging back in here as if nothing’s happened?” Lucifer barged forward, pushing Charlie to the side. “It’s been four fucking years –” 

His voice trailed off when he came face to face – with himself. Well, almost himself. The boy had his pale skin, his marionette cheeks, but he had Alastor’s antlers, Alastor’s fire hair and Alastor’s bright red, cunning gleam.

Slowly, disbelievingly, he met Alastor’s narrowed eyes. “Who did you say this was?” 

Alastor ignored him, because he was a dirty, annoying, bastard. Instead, he crouched down so he was eye-level with the boy, his face softer than Lucifer had ever seen it. 

“Dio, say hello to your other father.”

“Hello,” the boy – Dio – said. 

That was when Lucifer keeled over in a dead faint. 

When he woke up, the lobby was empty. Well, nearly empty. Alastor was sitting next to him, and the boy was practicing throwing darts at a lumpy doll. There were at least eight darts skewering the doll in the heart, and three more stabbing it in the brain. 

“What did I say? Think about where you want the dart to land, then throw it.” Alastor was saying, sounding like his usual, terse self. Good to see that some things never changed, child or no child.

There was a child. And from the looks of it, it was most definitely his child. 

He groaned and rubbed desperately at his eyes. They both looked at him at the same time. 

“Welcome back, drama queen.” That was Alastor and his sharp tongue. 

“Where is everyone?”

“I told them to take a walk. There’s a couple of things we need to catch up on, and I thought it might be better if we did it without an audience.” 

“A couple of things?” Anger surged through him, hotter than the fires of Hell. His six wings flared wide, and when he stood, a red tail lashed around his legs. Alastor immediately stepped in front of Dio, his shadow tendrils creating a protective shield around the boy.

But it was Dio and his suddenly too-white face that made Lucifer take a step back. He sighed and forced himself to calm down, extinguishing the fire blazing around his head. “You left. You did…that –” he spluttered, feeling his face turn red at Dio’s curious gaze. “With me, and then you left without a word. And now you turn up here – with our child? How did you think I was going to react?” 

“Frankly, I had no idea.” Alastor’s face was carefully blank, smoothed out of any emotion. “That’s exactly why I had to leave. You dote on Charlie, but she was the product of your marriage. How you would have reacted to a son with an enemy was anybody’s guess. I couldn’t take that risk.” 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have helped you?” Lucifer bit out. “Do you really have such a low opinion of me?”

“Listen to yourself,” Alastor’s voice snapped and snarled, the static thick in his words. “You hated me. That was fine. The feeling was quite mutual, I can assure you. But this child – I did not want him growing up in that environment. Rosie’s was a much safer bet.”

“Safer,” Lucifer scoffed. “He would have been safer with me. I am the king of Hell. I am the first and original Sin. Who would have dared hurt him under my roof?” 

His son. Lucifer’s mouth turned bitter as he thought of everything he had missed, everything Alastor had stolen from him – those first blissful moments of birth, his first cries, his first steps, his first words. All those years he would never be able to experience. “How could you do this to me?” He asked, his voice half-broken.

“Dio, to the kitchen.” Alastor ordered.

“But–” 

“Now.”

Grumbling, the boy marched away, reminding Lucifer of the way Charlie used to stomp off whenever it was time for bed.

Char-char! It’s getting way too late! 

Da-aad! 

She’d bat those adorable, huge eyes of hers and trick him into staying up just five more minutes, Dad, please! I’ll be super, super good! 

He softened, the deep, protective part of himself stirring for the second time in his life. There was no mistaking it. This was his son. 

And he didn’t know him, but he would die for him. 

Alastor watched him carefully, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxing just a touch when he saw the rage ebbing from Lucifer’s face.

“I’m…sorry,” Alastor said. 

Lucifer gaped. Alastor…apologizing? That was the second most surprising thing he had ever done – the first being giving birth to Lucifer’s kid, of course. 

“You – what? Sorry?” He repeated dumbly. 

“Yes,” Alastor repeated stiffly, as if it was causing him great pain to acknowledge it. “I didn’t want to keep him from you, but I didn’t see any other way. I didn’t know how you would react, and I believed it was safest to wait until he was old enough to defend himself. He means…” 

Alastor trailed off, and Lucifer placed his hand over his and squeezed. “I understand,” he sighed, because he did. Being a parent made you crazy. It made you scared. People did stupid things when they were scared.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t forgiveness – the hurt ran too deep for that – but it felt like the start of something else. Something new. 

Finally, Alastor stirred. He pulled something out of his coat and placed it in Lucifer’s palm. “His favorite toy.” 

It was a toy duck. 

And suddenly, Lucifer knew everything was going to be just fine.

[butmakeitgayblog]

I think your understanding of canon Clexa and their characterization/dynamics is really spot on, which makes me really excited to read your canon story. The ask about canon Clarke being Loud made me wonder what your take would be on how their first time went? It’s obviously a scene that’s been written in fanfic a ton but since you seem to be against the typical “heda got fucked into a nap” narrative I’d love to know what the version of events is in your head?

Oh no, I do believe Lexa got fucked into a nap 😂

I just don't believe that was all that happened, nor that it happened the way a lot of people think 👀

Sorry in advance for the rant.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I don't agree with some people's fandom interpretation of Lexa being this ultimately hesitant/demure or reserved person. At least not when it comes to how she expresses herself romantically. Now, I'm not shitting on the people who do see her like that and have written her like that for canon by any means because it's certainly understandable given the way she carries herself overall. I do get it.

But to me at least, Lexa is not a reserved person. Not when she's interested in someone. Not romantically, and certainly not physically.

From the very second she decided she was going to go for what she wanted with Clarke - when she decided to be honest and active about her feelings - what did she do? How did she behave?

Well. She took the reins and kissed Clarke exactly how she'd been wanting to kiss her for days

She took command and pushed into the feel of it and chased Clarke's lips to stretch the moment as long as she could

Yes she backed off when Clarke pulled away and said not yet, but that doesn't negate the fact that she very much did exactly what she wanted to do. That doesn't negate the fact that Lexa slipped her hand through Clarke's hair and tugged her in by the neck and kissed the living shit out of her simply because she wanted to.

Now here's where things get jumbled up imo and where people kind of... lose sight of Lexa for who she is. Because after this comes the mountain and then the subsequent betrayal, and after that Lexa is left hanging in this weird love/hate limbo (Clarke's, not hers. Obviously.) Was Lexa reserved during that time? Yes. Because she was trying to be respectful. She assumed Clarked hated her and would probably never forgive her. She felt she'd already done enough damage to ruin any hope for a relationship between them, so all that was left was to be respectful and love Clarke from afar. (That's glossing over many instances of Lexa still, STILL, showing her affections outright i.e. touching her when Emerson charged at her, the vow, showing up to Clarke's room dressed like a harlot a relaxed woman who just happened to like showing a whole lotta leg. You get it)

Which brings us to the afternoon Clarke was going to leave, and my God the girl was devastated. She was holding it together because that's what Lexa's does. Because Lexa was used to losing everyone she ever cared about. That's just how her life went. But also she was trying her best to keep it all together for Clarke's sake. To not make the decision of going back to Arkadia any harder for her than she knew it already was.

But even then, even in her facade of strength for both of their sake, Lexa still gave in and showed Clarke the crack in her armor. Lexa was methodical in everything shw did, and yet still she let slip, "That's why I...". Because she knew. She knew Clarke would understand what she was saying even when she wasn't ready to actually hear it. She let it "slip" because if that was going to be the last time they were together, she needed to at least know that she'd put it out there. That Clarke could carry that with her forever, if she chose to.

And then Clarke fucking kissed her.

Not once, but twice. Lexa gave her a chance to pull and think it over because of how shaky everything still was, but then Clarke leaned in and kissed her again.

And Lexa didn't hesitate again for one goddamn second after that.

Instead she kissed Clarke deeper than she'd kissed her before. Ran nervous hands all over her and caressed at her wherever she could.

She held Clarke close and actually tasted her with all the hunger she'd been pushing down for weeks (whew, thank you Alycia😮‍💨🫦).

She quite literally took Clarke's hands and tugged her to her bed. Like??? Heda really said through body language "oh we are going to fuck" (but... sweeter)

Yes she was patient and gave Clarke a chance to say no because, again, she was still very aware of how tenuous this seeming forgiveness probably was in Clarke's eyes. But that doesn't change the fact that she made it clear what she wanted. She put her affection and her yearning - all of her vulnerability right out there for Clarke to take or leave, and she did it in way that there was no mistaking exactly what she was asking for.

But Clarke didn't pull away, and what did Lexa do?

She grabbed her again. She pushed their intimacy forward again. She tugged Clarke down to the bed and not only gave herself to Clarke, but also took everything she had wanted.

So you see, Lexa was never passive in her expressions of attraction toward Clarke. She was never truly hesitant when it came to physically going for what she wanted when it came to wanting to be intimate with her. She kissed Clarke and she touched Clarke and she reached out for her time and again without shame, only stopping herself when Clarke put a stop to things because Lexa would never take something Clarke didn't openly give.

Which makes me believe Lexa would've been even less reserved when she was finally, finally, allowed to do all the things she'd yearned for. Yes she'd given Clarke the control to begin with because they both needed that kind of reassurance in their intimacy, but afterward? When it was Lexa's turn to show Clarke exactly how much she wanted her?

I believe Lexa would've been exactly who she always was when it came to being in love: giving and expressive, unabashed in her naked want. I think she would've kissed Clarke until their mouths ached and tasted every drop Clarke had to give. I think she would've begged Clarke to moan for her just so she could have those memories of making her lose control to keep with her forever. I think she would've fucked Clarke like it was their first and last time all rolled into one, because as far Lexa knew, that's exactly what it was. I think she would've teased her just to see Clarke smile and then teased her just to hear her whine. I think she would've done everything to stretch the afternoon out even while knowing they were racing against the clock. And I don't think she would've felt hesitant about any of it. Not about giving herself entirely to Clarke, both dominantly and submissively.

Cuz yeah Miss Lexa was a very happy camper after round one

But she sure as hell still wasn't shy about having her own turn