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youneedsomeprompts · 1 month

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~ IS THIS REALLY MEANT TO BE? ~ enemies to lovers arranged marriage PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous request: Would you do arranged marriage prompts but they like hate each other? Aka enemies to lovers arranged marriage. Like they bicker and fight a lot at the start but are like "damn them for actually having a point" idk I really love all your prompts and I am forever in your debt for the amount of writers blocks they've/you've gotten me out of!!! ❤️❤️

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: 10 marriage of convenience prompts Part 2: ~ IT'S FATE, RIGHT? ~ ARRANGED MARRIAGE PROMPTS

"I hate you and I won't even pretend to like you." "Well, you're in a pretty shitty situation then. We're stuck together."

"You're the worst person. I can't believe I have to spend the rest of my life with you."

"If you weren't so disagreeable you'd actually make a good spouse."

"I would like spending time with you if you weren't my spouse/wife/husband."

"I need some time for myself FOR ONCE!"

"Why did it have to be you? Anyone really would have been a better choice!"

"Do you think you can let me speak for once? It's not just your marriage. We're both in it. Unfortunately."

"Stop suffocating me! It won't make me like you more."

"But is the prospect of a life shared really only horrible? Can't we find something good in it?"

"Do you sense that? Is it possible that this is the first nice moment we spend together?" "Don't jinx it!"

they feel aggravated whenever their spouse is there but when their spouse is gone they feel strangely empty

they notice how they want to tell their spouse everything that's happening, even though they don't like them

they hate the forced proximity but they hate it even more to be alone

their spouse is so different from them but over time, they learn to appreciate their spouse's unique strengths

they realise that they might actually make a good team

when they have to spend time together they stay silent because every conversation would turn into a big fight

they have strangely romantic dreams about their spouse, even though they can't stand them

after a while, they write nice things about their spouse into their diary

^ their spouse finds the diary and reads it (bonus: they're confronting their spouse and an argument about trust-breaking and hidden feelings ensues)

they would never call it love but they're having these strange butterflies in their stomach whenever their spouse enters the room

#arranged marriage prompts #enemies to lovers prompts #writing prompts #prompt list #otp prompts #prompts #fanfic prompts #writing inspiration #writing ideas #writers on tumblr #writeblr #otp #arranged marriage au #enemies to lovers au #bickering prompts #arguing prompts #dialogue prompts #setting prompts #20 prompts

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droptheprompt · 9 months

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Height difference - Dialogue

"Can you stop putting everything on the top shelves?!"

"It's not my fault you're vertically challenged." "What did you just say?"

"You do realise I'm in the best position to punch you in the guts, right?"

"You're like a kitten, small and cute." "Say that again and I'll kill you."

"You're the only one who can fit in there."

"Hey, skyscraper, you're blocking my sun."

"I'll kick your shins if you don't immediately lean down."

"I'm not sleeping in your bed, it hurts when my legs dangle over the edge, you know?"

"Why don't you like my hugs?" "Because you always almost suffocate me! Stop squishing me like a plushie and then we can talk."

#otp #imagine your otp #otp prompts #imagine your ship #writing prompts #fanfic prompts #fanfic inspiration #writing inspiration #fluff prompts #dialogue prompts #height difference #small x tall #story prompts #prompt list #fluff #bickering #dialogue inspiration #droptheprompt

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year

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Modern Steddie AU where Eddie Munson (singer and guitarist for the popular band Corroded Coffin) and his fiance Steve Harrington get interviewed for the first time together after they got extremely popular on social media by Steve sharing the hardships of being in a secret gay relationship with a famous rockstar.

In the picture: Steve tells his fiance at the end of the interview that Vanity Fair didn't pick their outfits but he did and chose something he knew Eddie would hate. Eddie is contemplating marrying Steve just so that he can ask for a divorce.

#just a funny idea #i want them to bicker until the end of time #FYI this has nothing to do with the actors #just some silly steddie shipping #steddie #steve harrington #bi steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve and eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #steddie prompt #steddie idea #prompts #sbc writes

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keldae · 3 months

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Cute, shippy starters: 46) “Hey, have you seen the..? *Oh.*”

Devi loved cats, for the most part. Having grown up in the Lower City, stray cats had been all over the place; and most of them, after some obligatory introductory hissing, seemed to tolerate the little half-Elf thief well enough. Some had even learned that, if they were friendly enough, Devi might share her food scraps with them while she waited for her next mark. It hadn't been uncommon for Devi to have a cat curled up beside her while she had sat on a roof ledge, or prowling around her legs while she'd scoped out a new target. Her father would never have let her keep one for a pet, but she enjoyed giving scritches and pets where she could to the stray animals.

And then there was Tara.

Devi supposed her first mistake had been referring to Tara as “Gale's tressym” – she'd immediately gotten hissed at for that. She hadn't made the same mistake again, but Tara seemed to not ever forget a grudge. Even after Devi had come home with Gale to Waterdeep, Tara had regarded the thief with aloof suspicion. She was incredibly different from the normal cats Devi had grown used to, and even with regular usage of a potion to let her speak with animals, the two regularly butted heads.

She knew it caused Gale distress, that the woman he loved and the tressym he adored seemed to be permanently at odds. “Was she like this with Mystra too?” she had asked one day, watching Tara fly in pursuit of a hapless pigeon.

Gale had snorted. “Given how Mystra and I ended, and the sixth sense that animals have about such things, I like to think Tara would have tried to claw her eyes out if they'd ever met.” He'd smiled and given Devi a kiss on the temple. “I'm sure she'll warm up to you eventually. She's just… cautious with new people.”

That had been well over a tenday ago, and Devi still wasn't sure how long ‘eventually’ was supposed to last.

She sat in her favourite chair in Gale's tower, idly plucking at the strings on her violin. Gale himself was out today – he'd been summoned to some sort of meeting with another wizard, and the tone of the invitation had made it clear that Devi wasn't invited. Honestly, Gale had been more offended at the entire matter than she'd been. She'd sent him on his way with a kiss and a promise that she wouldn't find any mischief in his absence. And so far, she'd been good to her word, reading one of his many books and coming up with a new melody to play on the violin.

She sighed, looking out the window for a moment, then winced as her stomach lurched threateningly. Apparently whatever stomach flu she had somehow picked up (that Gale had dodged. Lucky bastard of a wizard.) was still not fully out of her system. And that had been the other reason Gale had been reluctant to go to this meeting with his colleague – he was worried about her, after the last four days of her waking up sick and struggling to keep anything she ate down.

Maybe it was the coffee he had introduced her to. Devi wrinkled her nose in thought. That was something she had never been introduced to as a poor Baldurian thief – perhaps the rich, stimulant brew was the cause of her–

Her eyes went wide, and she barely had time to set her violin on the table and grab an empty pail before her stomach violently rejected the two pieces of toasted bread and the banana she'd eaten less than an hour ago.

Wincing as her stomach eventually stopped revolting, she spat into the bucket, then shakily stood up, intent on finding water to rinse her mouth out before disposing of the vomited meal. “Fucking hells,” she mumbled, scowling down at her stomach. “Are you done yet?”

“Tsk, tsk,” said a voice behind Devi, one that made her jump. “Mr. Dekarios will not be pleased to learn that you're still ill.” With a flutter of her wings, Tara jumped up onto the table, regarding Devi with a stern look. “Had I thumbs, I would make you drink some tea.”

“Gale's been trying with the tea,” Devi said, finding a carafe of water in the kitchen and swishing a mouthful around to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. She spat into the bucket, still feeling Tara's eyes on her. “I think it helps a little bit?”

Tara lowly growled, then jumped to the counter. “Here,” she said, standing up on her hind legs to paw at a rack of herbs. “Mr. Dekarios keeps ginger up in this rack, and that should help with human – or half-Elf – nausea.”

“... Thank you.” Devi approached the counter, reaching around the fluffy head and wings to grab the large ginger root. Finding where Gale kept his kitchen knives, she carefully cut off a thin slice of the ginger, then put it in her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the strong taste. “Please work,” she mumbled as she put the rest of the root away, then moved to clean off the knife. She knew how particular Gale was with his knives.

Tara sat on the counter, tail swishing as she watched the thief clean and return the knife to its block. “I know you haven't been sleeping either,” the tressym said, “what with constantly waking up sick the last few nights. Go lie down.”

Devi frowned at the idea of taking orders from the winged cat. “I'm honestly all right,” she started to say. “I don't feel–”

She blinked as a paw batted at her arm. “You clearly are not all right,” Tara scolded. “And I'll not have Mr. Dekarios fretting over if you're getting enough rest while you’re so obviously ill. He's made it quite clear that he cares a great deal about you.” The tressym shifted her weight, then jumped onto Devi’s shoulders, making her stagger with a little grunt at the weight of a heavy winged cat perching on her. “To bed with you, Deviali.”

“It’s Devi,” the thief muttered. “What about if I just sit and read or–”

Tara growled threateningly.

Devi sighed, admitting defeat. “Fine, I’m going.” She wouldn’t ever admit it to Tara, but she was tired, after four mornings of waking up sick before the time that she and Gale normally got up. And it was impossible to quietly vomit, as she’d figured out the hard way – Gale was always at her side within a minute of her lunging out of bed, holding her hair back and looking at her with open concern in his eyes. “What do you care about me?” the half-Elf asked the tressym as she started making her way to the bedroom, with a longing glance at her violin. “You don’t seem to like me as it is.”

Seemingly noticing which way Devi’s eyes went, Tara lightly smacked the side of her face with her paw to make her focus on going to bed. “My opinions are moot. Mr. Dekarios adores you, which means that it becomes my duty to look after you like I do him. I’ve looked after that wizard since he was a boy – I’m not about to fly off because he picked you.” She settled across the back of Devi’s neck, like an oversized, winged scarf. “And if I don’t look after you, then it becomes the dog’s job to tend to you, and he is not a suitable caretaker.”

“Scratch is perfectly fine,” Devi protested, obligated to defend what she had come to think of as ‘her’ dog since the day he’d shown up in camp. “And he doesn’t try to nursemaid me or anything–”

“My point exactly. You’re obviously ill, and dogs, while loyal, do not understand taking care of two-legged creatures with no self-preservation instincts.”

“... I have perfectly fine self-preservation instincts,” Devi grumbled as she entered the bedroom and sat down on her side of the bed.

“That’s not the impression I got from hearing Mr. Dekarios’ stories about you during your little adventure,” Tara disagreed. She hopped down from Devi’s shoulders, then settled on the thief’s lap, giving her a pointed look. “If I have to make you lie down…”

Devi thought about arguing with the cat, then saw Tara warningly flex her front paws, revealing sharp claws under her fur, and thought better of it. “I can’t believe I just lost an argument with you,” she complained, laying down and curling up on her side.

Tara’s tail twitched in an almost smug manner. “Please feel free to ask Mr. Dekarios why he doesn’t pick fights with me anymore.” She climbed up onto Devi’s hip and started kneading the half-Elf through her trousers. “Ugh, you’re far too thin still. Is Mr. Dekarios not feeding you sufficiently?”

“If Gale could feed me himself, he would,” Devi muttered. “It’s hard to eat when everything he makes, no matter how good, keeps coming back up.”

“If you wake up sick again tomorrow,” Tara mused, “I’m going to have to tell him to fetch a cleric or visit an apothecary. Then again, perhaps he’ll bring something home tonight for you to feel better.” She jumped down to the mattress and, to Devi’s surprise, curled up against the thief’s stomach. “You are not to move from this bed until Mr. Dekarios returns home this evening, and you do not want to know what the consequences will be if you disobey me. Are we understood?”

“I’m being bullied into taking a nap by a tressym,” Devi groused, and promptly got batted by one of Tara’s wings. “Ow!”

“Somebody has to ensure that you rest and recover, if you’re not going to look after yourself.” Tara’s vivid eyes met Devi’s without blinking. “Now, I will allow you to offer scratches to my ears, just this once. Do not get used to it.”

Devi eyed the tressym for a moment, then slowly reached to slowly pet the top of Tara’s head, rubbing behind her ears. She was quickly rewarded with the low rumble of a pleased purr, vibrating against her stomach. Despite the half-Elf’s reluctance to take a nap, the feeling of curling up in bed with a large cat – or tressym – snuggled up against her upset stomach did feel very soothing. She sighed, then let her eyes drift closed, and felt Tara’s purring grow a little louder, as though the tressym approved. “You’re still the worst,” she muttered.

“Likewise, Deviali,” Tara smugly said, her purring never stopping. “Go to sleep.”

“It’s Devi,” the thief grumbled, even if part of her knew that the tressym would always use her despised full name, until the day Devi married Gale and took his last name for her own. Then it would probably become “Mrs. Dekarios”.

That actually has a nice ring to it, she thought as she felt herself slowly drift away into sleep, lulled by the sounds of Tara's purring.

—

Gale frowned slightly as he entered his tower, expecting to be greeted on his return home. The only lifeform to welcome him was Scratch, curled up by the fireplace; the dog looked up and thumped his tail against the floor, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. “Where’s Devi, hmm?” the wizard asked, kneeling to give the dog a scratch behind the ears.

Scratch wuffed, then set his head back down on his front paws. “Upstairs,” he said – Gale, once again, was grateful for the spell that let him speak with animals. “She’s been upstairs with Tara all day.”

That got a small wince from Gale – he almost wondered if there had been bloodshed in his home during his absence. “Good boy, Scratch,” he said, standing back up and making his way through the tower. It was suspiciously quiet in his residence: no Tara trotting or flying up to see him with a meow of greeting, no sounds of Devi playing her violin, no pretty half-Elf emerging from a doorway with a smile on her face to see her betrothed. He sighed, wondering if Devi and Tara had managed to kill each other while he’d been stuck all day with his wizarding colleagues. “Devi?” he lowly called out. “Tara?”

No sign of Tara anywhere – perhaps she was out hunting pigeons again. But Devi should have been here. Gale poked his head into the common room, then into his study – no sign of his favourite thief in either room, besides the violin resting on a table beside the window. Perhaps the bedroom, then? Gods knew that she hadn’t been resting well, with waking up sick every morning the past few days. He could only pray that the potions in his satchel, purchased from the apothecary only an hour ago, would cure whatever was wrong with her. He approached the bedroom door, only slightly ajar, and gently pushed it open. “Have you seen –” he started to say as he looked in – a second later, he went silent, his eyes softening. “Oh.”

On the bed, Tara looked up from where she was curled against a sleeping Devi, the tip of her tail swishing before her nose. “Not a word from you about this compromising position,” she quietly said, ears tilting back slightly. “It was the only way to make sure she rested. She was ill again this afternoon while you were gone.”

“Again?” Gale frowned worriedly as he sat on the edge of the bed; Tara stood up and stretched, then climbed up onto his shoulders, curling up around his neck and purring away. “Thank you for looking after her, Tara – I know you disapprove of her, but I love her.”

“I know you do. And it is good to see you happy with her, Mr. Dekarios.” Tara carefully adjusted her wings so she wouldn’t hit Gale in the back of the head with the large appendages. “She’s slept the last two hours after being ill again. You did stop at an apothecary for something to cure her, yes?”

“I did – and I’ve been assured that the potions I bought should fix anything.” The wizard carefully leaned down to Devi’s face, pressing gentle kisses over her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. “Hello, my love,” he murmured as Devi started to stir. “Did you sleep well?”

Devi’s eyes slowly opened as she looked up at Gale; her lips pulled up in a smile once she recognized him. “Hey, you,” she quietly said, reaching up to kiss him. “Welcome home.”

Gale smiled fondly as he returned Devi’s kiss, stroking his hand through her long hair. “And it feels the most like home when you’re here to grace it with your presence,” he softly chuckled. “Are you feeling better? Tara mentioned you were ill again.”

“Traitor,” Devi muttered, frowning up at the smug tressym, before slowly sitting up. “I… think I’m all right? At least for–” She froze, eyes widening as her hand settled on her stomach. “... Shit.”

Instinct had Gale stand up and get the hell out of Devi’s way, a second before she was on her feet and fleeing to the water closet. He frowned, worry becoming full-fledged anxiety as he started fishing around in his satchel for a potion. “Tara, can you stay with her for another minute while I get her some water?”

Tara was off his shoulders and flying after Devi almost before he’d finished speaking. “Do hurry, Mr. Dekarios,” she called back. “I am not an expert on half-Elves, but something is certainly wrong.”

#bg3 fic #bg3 #post-epilogue #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale dekarios #Deviali #tara the tressym #tara was fun to write #her and devi bickering pleases me #as much as Tara being a reluctant mother to Devi #also... oh Devi that isn't a stomach flu you've got going on #for the record #this has been sitting in my inbox since 11 November 2017 #oldest prompt that's been waiting for me #Kel answers prompts a million years later #Kel writes

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polutrope · 10 months

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hi! if you're up to it, daemags and 36? ;)

Thank you! Am I ever not up for them? From the kiss asks. On AO3.

36. … to give up control

“Here.” Without looking, the Noldo flung one arm back, proffering a wooden flute. “You play that.”

Daeron accepted the instrument and twirled it between his fingers. “Hm. I would rather not.” It was simple enough for a child. It probably was for a child. “How about that lute?” He used the flute as a pointer to indicate which he meant.

Maglor threw a sharp glance over his shoulder. “No. Strings are my signature.” He moved gracefully between several other instruments—or it would have been graceful, had his trailing red robe not caught under the frame of an absurdly large harp. What madness had possessed someone to travel with such an instrument, Daeron could not guess.

“Very well,” said Daeron. “Why don’t you play the lute and I will sing?”

“Absolutely not!” Maglor cried. He tugged his robe free. “I will sing.”

“You said strings were your expertise.”

“They are. And vocals. Here,” he stretched forwards to grab what looked like an oversized aulos. “Is this more suitable for you?”

Daeron sighed and held his palms open in front of him in a gesture of both confusion and reconciliation. “Maglor—may I call you Maglor?” It seemed appropriate that he should, given the casual disregard with which this lord of the Noldor was speaking to him. Maglor grunted. “What is the matter with you?”

Up until the revellers in the feasting hall at Ivrin had called for a duet between them, Maglor had been perfectly pleasant—charming, even. Daeron had even been wondering if Maglor might not serve as an evening antidote to the many days of dull diplomacy that still lay ahead of him. But as soon as they were alone together, he seemed to turn sour.

Now he looked affronted. His mouth fell open as if to protest, then shut again; then he said, “I do not like improvising with someone I hardly know.”

Not the full reason, but part of it, Daeron surmised. The vulnerable curve to Maglor's lips did not linger long, but it was long enough that Daeron felt a tug of sympathy for him—and a flutter of something else. In his far more practical leggings and short tunic, Daeron was able to weave easily between the instruments towards Maglor, who was now turned to the wall with a hand masking half his face.

“Shall we get to know each other first, then?” said Daeron, brushing up against his shoulder.

Maglor turned to him, eyes wide and cheeks coloured a lovely pinkish hue. Daeron's lips quirked into a smile.

“Confound it,” Maglor said. “Why are you so damned…” his eyes darted about, searching for the word, “enchanting?” he said, bitingly. Their eyes locked; their faces were not more than a few inches apart.

Daeron grinned. “Forgive me,” he said. “I have that effect sometimes. It’s not intentional.”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me already,” Maglor said, the breath of each emphatic syllable hot on Daeron’s lips.

“Will you let me play the lute?” said Daeron, taking him by the wrist.

“Yes, fine, I’ll—” Daeron tugged on his arm, pulling him flush against his hips, “—mmph!” and cutting him off with a kiss, to which Maglor entirely and enthusiastically surrendered himself.

#daeron #maglor #daemags #kiss prompts #prompts #it's not my default to make them petty and bickering #but it sure is fun :D

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wisteriasymphony · 1 month

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10 for the eyes on me prompt

Prompt list by dumplingjinson

10. “You have all these people who’d literally die to be with you, so I just don’t understand…” “Well, they aren’t the ones I’d want to die for. And also… They aren’t you, are they?”

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There was something to be said about Claudia's broken heating system having a silver lining to it; For the whole night, they had been practically inseparable, piling on blankets and anything else they could find like turtles in wooly shells, clutching onto each other to share that oh-so-precious currency of body heat, wading in and out of sleep by each other's sides. It had been a particularly uneventful affair, and those were the best kind. Claudia had even pulled out her laptop so they could watch all of the terrible B-movies she'd torrented. ...But the audio quality was demonstrably horrible, in Adrien's own opinion, so he much preferred to watch Claudia rather than pay attention to Cronenberg's Frissons.

"Have you ever really noticed the fact that you have freckles?" he asked, staring at the way the laptop flashed diaphanous veils of light over Claudia's face. Sometimes greens, sometimes pale yellows, sometimes other beautifully sickly shades that couldn't be described as one or the other. Adrien lightly poked the roundest part of Claudia's cheek, right where one of the most prominent freckles laid.

Flinching in her seat ever so slightly, Claudia turned her attention away from the movie. "Not really," she said. "Does it matter?"

"I just think that they're beautiful." Adrien paused for a moment. "That you're beautiful."

Claudia just sighed and rolled her eyes at the compliment, just like she always did. He'd think that getting a compliment from the so-called "Most Beautiful Boy in the World" would only make the sentiment more sincere, rather than less. And yet she thought the exact opposite.

"You really don't have to lie to me to justify us being together, you know." Claudia was back to watching Frissons again, drawn in by the ghostly noise of violins picking up in the soundtrack. "I just don't think I'll ever get it no matter how you try to word it to me."

"Get what?"

"Why it was me, of all people." The glance she shot back at Adrien was sharp and bothered. "You have all these people who’d literally die to be with you, Eddí," she huffed. "So I just don’t understand…"

"Well," Adrien said, one of his hands finding his way to Claudia's shoulder and pulling her closer to him. "They aren't the ones I'd want to die for." Once his arm was around her, Adrien leveraged his own body weight to roll the two of them further in on her bed, trapping Claudia flat on her back and her attention solely on him. "And not only that," he laughed, "But they aren't you either, now are they?"

No matter how she tried to crane her neck, Claudia was unable to follow Frissons any longer, despite the wretched garbled screams seeming to imply something considerably interesting was taking place. It also didn't help that Adrien was too cute in those dorky reading glasses of his to ever truly be mad at. What an asshole.

"First of all," Claudia said, pausing for a moment to purse her lips and think, "You wouldn't be the one doing the 'dying' part. You would have known that if you had actually paid attention to what I was saying."

"I was. And I'm frankly offended you think I would ever do the contrary." He took the opportunity to give her a kiss on the forehead, as if he was the gallant hero of a fairytale sealing a promise to a fairy queen. "To hear your voice is that which my very soul subsists upon, my heart a slave to your whims—"

Claudia mouthed his words mockingly, punctuating it with a stuck out tongue.

"You're insufferable. You know that, right?" She asked.

"I'm as insufferable as you are gorgeous. Can we agree to that?"

Claudia very nearly did, but stopped herself right before she said something Adrien could hold against her.

"Maybe the real reason you chose me is because I put up with all your wordy bullshit," she muttered, cheeks tinted the lightest shade of pink from embarrassment.

"Sure. Let's go with that."

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#god these two bicker like they're getting paid to do it. OTP #shitsquare #claudrien #claudrien nation #writing prompts

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night-wilf · 1 year

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Writing prompt 102:

Vlad stares at the red and yellow cosmic rings fighting for him to put them on. He sighs and just uses his portal to suck them through once again.

Like the other 20 times he's done it that week.

He's already caused enough trouble making Dani, why would he do more?

#fan fic writing #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #night wilf prompts #writing #dpxdc #vlad masters #lantern rings #red lantern #yellow lantern #bickering lantern rings #sensible vlad

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nympippi · 1 year

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Headcanon: Whenever Gwen wants to play with Vance’s hair, his feelings about it are basically “I’ll comply, but I’ll complain the whole time!”

Yes!!

He doesn’t like having his very meticulously styled hair being touched and the idea of a silly hairstyle on him makes him shiver. But Gwen is relentless and refuses to let up about it so he’ll sit and huff and puff until she’s done and even if it’s a style he actually likes he’ll still be huffy about it and say ‘it looks like shit.’ And then Gwen will respond with even more huff, ‘that’s because it’s on you.’

They will fight and bicker about Vance’s hair, but usually Gwen wins.

#pippi speaks #the black phone fandom #necromancer finney au #the black phone #vance hopper #gwen blake #Gwen and Vance love to bicker #they will pick fights with each other and it will prompt Finn to break it up #put two firecrackers together and it makes an even bigger fire. they’re besties I feel it in my bones #Vance hopper and Gwen Blake friendship. no I will not elaborate because they are besties #but Vance does let her do his nails. they also gossip a lot too

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daisyachain · 3 months

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There are places where I think a sex scene can dramatically impact a story in a way that enriched the viewing experience and conveys important information. There are movies and/or tv shows in which this happens. I haven’t seen any of them. So much of the time it’s there to do exactly what it says on the tin. A woman and a man are banging. Sure. Fine. Happy for them. It’s just a literal scene used to pull a bit of a ‘well you didn’t think THEY would be involved’ plot twist or a ‘we’re so edgy’ signal. The only show so far that I’ve seen that uses sex scenes as an actual tool of storytelling is Black Sails, and the reason it works in Black Sails is that the sex is Bad. People are bored. People are distracted. The characters are so bound up with the plot that it’s physically prevented them from fucking like normal human beings. That works. The rest doesn’t

#kelsey rambles #don’t ask what prompted this post because it would lead to me being institutionalized #but I do think sex scenes have a lot of untapped potential for just. character information. that doesn’t get used #like the anne/jack scene. it communicates so well that the intimacy between these two comes from trust and not the other way around #anne isn’t attracted to jack as a person and jack is neither here nor there on anne as a romantic interest #he pursues her out of a sense of ‘well she’s a woman and that’s how this works’. she semi-sort-of-dates him because it’s all the same to her #she’s never wanted a guy so why wouldn’t she consider a platonic bond to be just the normal thing for screwing around #Jack isn’t paying attention to Anne because he’s thinking about money.#Anne is bickering with him like they’re a pair of muppet clowns #it’s so very awkward and unsexy. it’s not even charged enough to be embarrassing #they may as well be clipping each other’s toenails for all the raw desire there is(n’t) in the scene #and it works! these are two characters who have an intimacy so far from romantic that the writers describe it as twin-like #they misinterpret it as desire because they’re plank-thick pirates. it’s not toxic it’s just kind of square peg round hole #(hah hah). good scene. shows should try having good scenes more often

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beez-nutz · 2 years

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Person A: Besides, you're a bad kisser

Person B: How would you know if you've never tried it?

Person A: By doing what you do before you try anything new: checking the reviews.

#person A #person B #imagine your otp #otp prompts #bickering #flirting #rivals to lovers #writing #incorrect quotes

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theresiagouldingreads · 1 year

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#3 writing prompts