#giggling and kicking my feet thinking about them

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

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[annievrse]

the sled problem

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: thinking about alabasta where there's no room for matsuge to carry you, so zoro puts you on the sled with chopper (feat. a lot of reader x crew too!). w/c: 1.1k c/w: zoro refers to reader as 'my girl' & 'girlfriend', she/her pronouns, established relationship, reader is shorter than zoro. a/n: thanks everyone for voting! here is bf!zoro.

"My turn!" Luffy exclaims, feet dragging through the sand. You eye him wearily as it seems he used the last of his energy to make it known that he was to take your place on the sled. You wince when he stumbles, the last of the water hanging by a rope around his neck.

"No way, moron," Zoro grunts behind you. "My girl and Chopper only."

Next to Luffy, Usopp lets out a noise of disagreement, his body weight relying on the walking stick in his hand. "Surely she can walk— Ouch!"

Chopper's weak giggle cuts the thick air beside you, and you look to where the sharpshooter lays motionless in the orange sand. Glancing back, you see Zoro's fist lowering back to his side.

"Stop complaining," Nami says, adjusting the scarf on her head. "We'll be there soon."

"You're on the back of a camel," Usopp splutters as he gets to his feet. Matsuge grunts in dismissal, and Nami pretends not to hear her crewmate and turns to face the horizon.

"Let me on!" Luffy attempts to yell, staggering toward the swordsman. "C'mon, Chopper, you're an animal fit for the desert."

The reindeer shakes his head and clasps his arms around your bicep. "No way, you try having a fur coat in his heat."

Usopp giggles, though he eyes the waterskin that hangs against Luffy's chest instead of the medic. "I'll cut it off you if you'd like—"

A collective gasp sounds through the group; this time, you kick your leg out to trip him over, realising too late that he was speaking about the water and not Chopper.

Zoro chokes out a cackle at the thump of his crewmate against the sand. "Atta girl."

Usopp makes no move to get up. He lays there, delirious, until Sanji grips the back of his shirt and tugs him along. "Idiot."

The only sound is the wind and the crunch of shoes in the desert. Sighing, you start to feel bad for the others when you see them struggling to stay upright, so, you shuffle Chopper over so you can get up.

"'Ro," You say, turning to face his back. Zoro stops and looks at you with his brows furrowed. "Here, Luffy—"

The group groans as you stand, dusting the sand from your clothes.

Zoro shakes his head and scoffs. "I'm not pulling that moron. Sit back down."

With pleading eyes, you shove your captain toward the sled, carefully avoiding Chopper. "Just pull him; I'll walk with you for a while."

Zoro grumbles and suddenly jolts the sled, so Luffy slides off. "Oops."

"Please, Ro," You say, touching his forearm. "Just until I get tired."

"Yeah, just until she gets tired," Luffy mumbles, heaving himself onto the sled. "Which will be never."

Zoro glares at you, but the look is too familiar for you to take it harshly. Then, he starts walking again, purposefully making a face of discomfort.

"Thanks, baby," you smile, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

"Aw, baby, that's so cute," Usopp mumbles, his face just inches off the ground thanks to Sanji's grip. "Zoro, baby, my baby—"

Sanji rolls his eyes, drops him, and keeps walking. "Do you ever shut up?"

You glance back at him, but Zoro nudges you with his shoulder. "He'll catch up."

Sighing, you stop and walk back to Usopp. Zoro knows what you'll make him do, but god knows he’ll always do what you tell him.

You try your best to help the sniper to his feet, muttering that he won't have to walk anymore, giving Usopp the energy to run to the sled. So much for feeling bad for him...

"You need to learn to ignore them," Sanji says, plucking the cigarette between his lips. "Let the moss head drag you through the dunes. He clearly wants to."

You look back and slow down to match his steps, smiling at Sanji's attempt at being nice to your boyfriend. "It's the least I can do."

The cook begins to counter your lame argument but stops short when he sees Zoro waiting for you ahead: his captain, the sharpshooter, and the reindeer piled on the wooden sand sled.

"I'm doing all this for you, and you ditch me for the cook."

You can feel Sanji roll his eyes beside you. Laughing, you quicken your steps to catch up to the swordsman.

"Jealous?"

Zoro scoffs and readjusts his grip on the ropes. "Of him? I'd rather die."

There's a sigh behind you, and then Sanji speeds past you, hands clasped before him as he asks Nami if she needs anything.

Zoro knocks your shoulder with his bicep, bringing you back to the man beside you. He's a man of very few words, but you know what he's trying to say. Quit teasing me.

Rolling your eyes, you giggle. "Stop flirting, we're in the desert."

"Seriously?"

You shrug and glance at the boys on the sled, your sweet expression turning to irritation when you see them sitting cross-legged, whispering animatedly while Chopper lies half-delirious from heat stroke. “Seriously?”

“Yeah? I just asked that—“

You stop walking and hit an oblivious Luffy upside the head when he passes. Your captain tumbles onto the sand, Usopp following soon after with expletives falling from his lips.

Huffing, you reclaim your place next to Chopper. "Manipulative idiots."

“You got that right,” Chopper mumbles. You shake your head and watch as the pair stumble back to their feet and start complaining again.

"Why?" Usopp cries. "Zoro control your girlfriend; she's mean."

Zoro laughs deeply, like a warning. "Usopp, I swear to god, if I hear your voice one more time, I won't hesitate to kick your ass."

"Sorry," Usopp mumbles to you. "Sorry, Zoro."

"Damn right," your boyfriend states. "And Luffy?"

Your captain's head raises, face screwed in anticipation of what the swordsman had for him.

"Give her the water."

"But—"

"Now, moron!"

You go to counter Zoro's demand, insisting that it is fine, but Luffy hastily rips the rope from his neck and stretches his rubber arm to drop the waterskin in your lap.

"Thanks, Luffy."

His only response is a whiny grumble.

"Here, Chop," You unscrew the lid and push the bottle towards the reindeer. "Drink."

Chopper lifts his head weakly. "No, that's yours."

Rolling your eyes, you shove it further into his tiny chest. "Zoro won't curse you for drinking it, I promise."

Nodding, Chopper takes the waterskin between his hooves and sips.

"Hey, no fair! Why do she and the reindeer get water, and we don't?"

Zoro stops dead in his tracks and drops the rope to the sled. "Usopp."

A terrified scream echoes through the barren desert, and then Zoro rounds the sled and tackles the sharpshooter to the ground.

Nami groans from the front of the group. "Can't we have a normal trip for once?"

Vivi's soft voice follows. "Doesn't look like it."

"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Zoro, please! I'm not meant for combat!"

"Shut it, asshole," Zoro sighs. "You speak to my girl like that again? See what happens." 

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

SCREAMIBG GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET ONE OF MY FAV ARTISTS DRAWING NOT ONLY GRAVITY FALLS, BUT FIDDLESTAN???? SCREAMING

Ok now time for an EVIL question what's ur op on fiddlebill. Neither of these idiots can have ford and blame eachother. Now kiss

(specifically pre-portal because I feel like it'd only really work then- fidds losing his memories and no longer being fords apprentice bill would just seem him as pointless to interact with and fidds probably wouldn't have such deep rooted opinions on him anymore either)

SJKFHSDFHFD LMAO YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! It's pretty much become my favorite gravity falls ship!!!! I'm so crazy about them!!! I love them so much!!!

That is SUCH an evil question dude. It's not anything I've really ever considered or thought about? I'm a multishipper so I'm not gonna shoot anyone down though. I mostly like to think about bill fucking with fiddleford out of pure unadulterated jealousy. He KNOWS fiddleford has feelings for Ford, a LOT of unrequited feelings, and he feels super duper insecure about that, despite the fact he's got ford wrapped around his toony ass finger. So I like to think he gives fiddleford weird dreams. That's something I meant to draw, actually. I came up with a scenario where bill goes into one of fids *fantasizing about ford* dreams and loses his shit. Hopefully I'll finish that eventually.

So yeah, he definitely contributed to fiddlefords mental downward spiral. Really contributed to the psychological thriller that was originally supposed to be a queer rom com in a cozy cabin in the woods.

I kind of took your ask and started rambling on it? I'm sorry. This was supposed to be about fids x bill. Whoops. You know what... closest I can see to that is bill posessing ford and putting the moves on fiddleford when fiddleford doesn't realize it's bill. Like they're in the bedroom and it's all dark so he can't see the yellow eyes. And bill is doing that to manipulate him. To find a way to hurt him in the process so he'll leave. GOD IT'S ANGSTY NOW THAT I'M THINKING ABOUT IT WHOOPS

HERE'S A BILLFORD/FIDDAUTHOR/MAYBE FIDDLEBILL SONG *throws it at you and runs away*

[potato-lord-but-not]

once again being annoying in ur ask box bc i have more things to say <3

EVERY TIME I WAKE UP TO YOUR ART I SCREAM AND GIGGLE AND ROLL AROUND IN BED LIKE A SPARROW IN DUST. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. SEEING UR DRAWINGS GIVES ME THE MOST INSANE EUPHORIA, THAT'S LITERALLY ALL I WANT MY ART TO LOOK LIKE EVEN THOUGH MY STYLE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND I SUCK AT CARTOONISH STUFF I WOULD LITERALLY KILL TO BE ABLE TO DRAW LIKE YOU. I SHOW MY IRLS YOUR ART ON A DAILY BASIS. EVERY TIME YOU INTERACT WIT MY POSTS OR ANSWER MY ASKS I EXPLODE INTO A CLOUD OF GLITTER. YOUR DOODLES ARE SO SILLY AND I SWEAR IT DOESN'T MATTER WHEN I SEE YOUR POSTS THEY ALWAYS INJECT ME WITH SHEER PRIMAL RABID JOY <3333 I SAW ONE THE OTHER DAY AFTER A 5.6 MILE CROSS COUNTRY PRACTICE WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO JUMP OFF A CLIFF BUT HTEN I SAW SILLY HUMAN JOHN AND OSCAR AND IT WAS CURED AND I WAS INSTANTLY REJUVENATED!!!! okay enough all caps my pinky hurts from holding the shift key down. i'm on my hands and knees begging my mother to let me buy better alcohol markers because mine are coughing and wheezing a collective death rattle and they are simply NOT SUFFICIENT to try to attempt ur coloring style. ALSO. our human johns are like literally twins??? giggling kicking my feet the way you draw him is so lovely and precious and gorgeous and stunning and marvelous and perfect and adorable and beautiful 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 he looks so squishable i think he would give the most marvelous back cracking soul healing hugs ever. AND OH MY GOD. MIGHT BE GIVING MYSELF AWAY BUT WHATEVER. YOUR BUTCHER DESIGN RGAHFHSLJDLJ I HAVE NOT BEEN NORMAL ABOUT HIM EVER AND I YAPPED ABOUT HIM TO MY LESBIAN FREIND (SHOWING THEM YOUR ART OF HIM) AND SHE DOESNT GET ITTTTTT HES SO AMAZING I NEED HIM TO TIE ME TO A CHAIR AND RIP MY FINGERNAILS OF(the pipe bomb under my chair goes off)

ahem. anyways. that concludes today's insanity. my sincerest apologies, it will happen again <33333 i think ur art is gonna get me through this school year

asks that heal your ailments and cleanse your soul— I need to tag this as something niche so I can find it again when I’m feeling down and need some encouragement from izel I mean from this random anon <3

[mac33cheese]

Love the head canon that kuboyasu would call saiki "baby doll"

Saiki would get kinda flustered and act like it's cringy but secretly really love it, and aren would be aware that saiki actually likes it and so when saiki gets really overwhelmed and in need comforting aren hold his hand and cup his face and call him "baby doll" while comforting him

Anyways this song is extremely aren coded

[royaltea000]

Pose practice! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

[emily-e-draws]

I love my, my, mine 💛

[melit0n]

Hands down, Give is one of Sleep Token's yearn-iest songs. Ever. It's not on par with TLYW, Jaws etc. (because that's a whole different layer of Sleep Token's yearning onion), but it's got a kick to it.

When I say that song is the epitome of desperate, I mean it.

Without thinking about it too much, the first time I listened to it my first thoughts were 'ah, okay, wanting to give all for your lover and be able to trust them, got it', but then I thought about it a bit more.

Like with all Sleep Token songs, it has a bit of an eerie undertone, which borders on slightly obsessive, depending on who you're talking to, with the lyrics. We have "I picture you when you are all alone", "I am the shadow, you're a passenger", "I'll be the limit of your light again" and, of course, "give me all that you can give" with "and if you want to give me anything, then give (give in again)".

Vessel is describing himself as literal darkness; he's a shadow in the gloom and whoever this is is a star glowing in the darkness. A light he aims to dampen because he wants a taste of that light. A taste of them.

However, it's this desperation for attention that gets me. "Give me all that you can give" is an easy example; he's desperately giving all he can possibly give in hopes of getting the same, or more, back. It's repeated over and over, half begging half demanding with soft dulcet tones and promises that he'll be watching for their enemies, to let them know that they contend with him etc.

Give becomes this two-faced thing of someone giving with all their might to someone who is afraid to trust, bringing up empathy from us, and someone who will not accept anything except everything. It's this sexually charged fight between who is a victim (or if there really is one here) and who is the abuser.

Further, to "give in" is to 'cease fighting or arguing; admitting defeat.' It's something primal and angry hidden under, or rather, mixed with passion, and it's incredibly well hidden.

[beanghostprincess]

Something about Sanji crushing on Usopp pretty early in the story and only getting his goggles back in Alabasta because he is 19. And an idiot. And he is crushing hard. And he thinks that if he gets Usopp his goggles back the pretty boy will pay attention to him because they are silly pookie teenagers and he wants his crush to look at him.

[crowscauldron]

Fluffy Jaytim Fic Prompt

Look, we know that Tim spent many years on his own, so I think it would make the most logical sense for him to know how to cook. Like he must be able to live off of something other than frozen food. HOWEVER, he’s always too busy to cook for himself.

Now just imagine if Jason has to crash at Tim’s place one day and Tim cooks something for the two of them and Jason’s all shocked and everything.

And then Jason cooks Tim a meal eventually. And then it just spirals from there. Can you just imagine every night the two of them cooking dinner together in the kitchen? Just little cooking dates all the time before patrol because that’s the only way Jason knows Tim will get healthy food, let alone just food, in his body.

[chaotic-deity]

He's on my mind a LOT tonight, so might as well post these old drawings of him <3333

[iamnoodnood]

cozy morning

[r0zzk1ll]

"this man, is weird.. CRAZY weird.." "he was always very bright.."

[emloafs]

We poppin the biggest bottles when binary boyfriends happens on thursday

we are SAT for s6 👏

me n my mutuals after watching eli confess his love for demetri in the rain and then make out with him

[neixins]

still obsessed with the tasteful matchiness of gija’s and jaeha’s outfits in their bday drawings from this year. it’s just soooo <3

[cerealbishh]

"Maria and Rhett knew each other way back when, they went to high school together. (...)Yeah, I think the spark is immediate because I think they maybe, secretly, always wanted to be together."

"I think that it's one of those relationships that never happened and never was but it was almost. And, I think, spending so much time apart, one can tend to fantasize what could be. (...) All of that ease of them seeing each other again is right there and it's almost as if they never left each other's side." - Isa and Lew on Maria and Rhett in an interview with Down and Nerdy(x)

"I also love that I get to tell a story about love in this really crazy, scary world(...) and we really want to root for them!" - Isa in an interview with SciFi Vision(x)