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dumplingsjinson · 7 months

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List of “it’s all about the kisses but add just a lil’ flavouring to it” prompts

Character B pulling Character A closer by the small of their back/their waist as things get extremely heated (FUCKING JUST TAKE ME RIGHT THEN AND THERE YES YES YES YE SYE E-FJEWOINFW’LFNK i am malfuncTIONING YOUR HONOUR-)

Character A carding their fingers through Character’s hair

Character A letting slip soft little noises as they kiss

Character B letting their lips wander all over Character A’s face before pressing their lips against theirs again, stealing their breath away with another kiss

Character A’s hands slipping up Character B’s shirt, palms splaying on their back; fingers tracing down their spine

Character A giggling when Character B trails kisses down to their neck because they’re sensitive/ticklish there, which causes Character B to laugh along with them (LKNEWFLKNWFEN PLEAAASSSEEE I WILL CRYERWUIRB)

Character A pulling Character B closer by the nape of their neck

Smiling/laughing into the kiss (JUST. YES. YES. YES. A MILLION YESSES. GREEN FLAGS ALL AROUND IDFC WHAT YOU SAY)

When it goes from innocent little pecks to them making out (What can I say? What can I say?? WHAT CAN I SAYYYYYYY?)

Character B’s hand stroking the side of Character A’s thigh as they kiss

Hands roaming all over each other

Character B pulling away, exhaling a soft laugh as they hold Character A closer to them. “You good?” they ask, and Character A nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” Character A murmurs, smiling a little as they hide their face on the crook of their neck, cheeks a little more flushed than usual. (PL EAS EE THAT LITTLE GIGGLE OF HIS WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAVOURITE THING ABOUT HIM WQRNEW;LKN’FKN and the check ins THE SWEETEST MAN FRRR)

#WHAT CAN I SAY POOKIE THIS IS BASED ON PERSONAL EXPERIENCE ONCEE AAGGAAIIINNN #i’m sorry this is very out of left field but i think i’m in love with prayag lfnweflkn ANYWAY #cat guy chronicles #prompts #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #otp prompts #kissing prompts #kiss prompts

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gaytedlasso · 5 months

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All that matters is they’re living their soft epilogue years forever

Fuck the finale

#Dean has long hair and they’re happy and in kissing the wildflower field #the finale doesn’t exist #destiel #spn art #deancas #fuck the finale #spn finale #sketch.art

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zestpunk · 4 months

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Based off that one meme on twitter.

Also it's apparently V3's 7th anniversary? This counts as a celebratory drawing, right?

#kokichi #kiss him gently before punting him across a football field #Kokichi Ouma #drv3 #drv3 kokichi #fan art #danganronpa #Danganronpa V3 #of course my offhand drawing actually looks good why not all the time dammit

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27cowboys · 2 months

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ooooo you want to play zero escape so bad ooooooo

#clover field #clover #zero escape #ze 999 #999 #zero escape 999 #clover zero escape #if you play zero escape i will kiss you on the lips

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notyourdaisybuchanan · 9 months

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Rewatching The Bear 2x03 is actually crazy and feels so clarifying because like...

The ep starts with Carmy speaking at Al-Anon about fun, and how maybe he needs to have more of it. He acknowledges that fun is complicated for him because as a kid his family tended to ruin things for him, even though this was often unintentionally done. He says that he thinks if he had more amusement or enjoyment in his own life then it would be easier to provide that for other people. (Big note here that part of the purpose OF a restaurant is to provide amusement and enjoyment for people. Then add in Luca's conversation with Marcus in 2x04 about how the best food comes from being open and inspired, and spending time in the world. So Carmy having fun could theoretically make him better at his job.)

Anyway, Carmy gives that spiel at Al-Anon. Then we get a brief interlude of Syd looking at articles about recent restaurant closings and being stressed.

And then we're immediately back with Syd and Carmy cooking together in his kitchen. She fucks up a dish again, and he suggests they stop cooking and do a palate reset.

Like... this all happens within the first five minutes of the ep. This man has been musing about how he needs to have more fun.... and then he suggests spending the day eating in the city with Syd..... ergo that's his definition of fun. This is literally him making an attempt at doing something for amusement or enjoyment!! He planned this!! I fully believe he had this idea even before Sydney fucked up the dish. This man said I need to have more fun and you know what would be fun? Spending the day with my business partner eating delicious food. So he sends her home with plans to meet in an hour.

And then. AND THEN. Claire calls. First of all when she asks if he's busy, he looks at the white board and the very first thing on the To Do list is "call fridge guy" so like. lmao. I love foreshadowing. And he literally is busy!!! Not with unpleasant tasks to do but with something FUN. Something fun that he planned FOR himself.

And what is it that Claire asks him to do? Is it something fun? No. She asks him to HELP HER MOVE her mom. Like, the least fun task in the history of anything, the thing that people historically HATE being asked to help with. And he doesn't look excited about it! He looks torn. He looks...weird idk. Like ohhhh it's actually so crazy that Carmy bails on a truly fun day with Sydney in order to do a manual labor favor for Claire.

This is so ripe for analysis you simply cannot tell me it doesn't mean anything.

Carmy thinks about how he needs more fun, plans a fun day for himself, and then, when someone he tried to avoid asks him to do a not fun favor, he says yeah, I'll do that instead.

#Almost like he feels a sense of obligation.#Almost like he's self sabotaging.#Almost like Claire's connection to his past to his family to Michael is... allowing his family to ruin something fun for him yet again.#idk I'm not completely married to that bit but the material is definitely there!!#anyway this is my first post-s2 sydcarmy analysis but certainly not the last!!#this show is nuts everything is so intentional and carefully crafted I'm having a field day #apologies if this post comes off like I'm yelling I kind of am bc I was so excited while writing it lol #the bear #the bear meta #sydcarmy #sydcarmy meta #the bear s2 #chefs kiss #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #sydney x carmy

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voidcatofbedlam · 3 months

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“He whom I value more than all others, and love as dearly as my own life? I have lost him”

- the Iliad

“When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him.”

- the Song of Achilles

“Say that there were two boys who raced each other to the sunrise. Say that one went too far, and the other went with him”

- Aristos: the Musical @aristosmusical

Gouache on paper

Here’s teenage Patroclus and Achilles, soft and carefree and unknowing of their fate, plus some quotes that twist my gut every time I read them

#oh to have a studio Ghibli kiss in a field of roses #doomed by the narrative #the song of achilles #madeline miller #aristos the musical #the iliad #homer #patroclus #achilles #patrochilles #tsoa fanart #tsoa #homer's iliad

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willowycreature · 3 months

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#them calling this movie jonsa fan service is sooo funny because it wasn't the biggest ship in the show (that was braime) or even a recognized jon ship by the gp! it's literally because sophie and kit wanted to work together again because they LIKED working together 🤷🏽‍♀️

#i'm having a ball this is so fun #there's layers to why this movie is fun to me #it could utter trash idc i will be getting sex scenes and kiss!#field sex!#sophie turner #kit harington #thedreadful #jonsa

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ride-a-dromedary · 7 months

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I like to think that when animals in the Grove had babies around springtime, the lot of them would bring them to Halsin first if they were inclined to bring them to anyone - like a cat taking her kittens to the human she trusts most to show them off.

And he would appropriately marvel at them and congratulate the mothers, or gently tease the new parents that they've responsibilities now, always with the softest murmur of awe in his voice, because no matter how many times he has been firsthand witness to new life over the centuries, it is always a blessed thing, and their trust means the world to him.

#BG3 Musing #Halsin Posting #Halsin #'oh well done he looks just like you'#halsin play wrestling new baby bears and kissing little velvet muzzles of fawns and offering his hair to the nests with newly born chicks #and cradling wolf pups while listening to their mother boast about them #and chuckling when little field mice and squirrels crawl their way up from his palms #i'm soft okay #and then those baby animals bring *their* babies to halsin and the cycle continues #just a century of generations #of little ducklings in a row #it also fueled his baby fever something awful

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starks-hero · 2 years

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Iris

Pairing: Crowley x human!Reader

Summary: “When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.” Or, Crowley finally decides to tell you, his human lover, that he is a demon. He's justifiably terrified.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: hurt/comfort

a/n: shout out to the wonderful anon that chucked me headfirst back into my good omens' obsession. anyway, I'm not saying you should listen to Iris whilst reading this but–

Crowley loved your eyes.

Well, he loved the entirety of you. But there was just something about their alluring shade, the way they watched him so intently and with softness he couldn't recall last being regarded with. Their divinity reflected that of the cosmos themselves. Crowley should know, he built them.

He never really understood the whole ‘eyes are the window to the soul’ line before you. From Crowley's, albeit limited understanding, souls didn't have windows, and even if they did, it wouldn't be a very good indicator of one's character. Even the bleakest of days look more promising from behind the safety of a window.

You were the one to change that perception, to take it in gentle hands and mould it into something softer, more sentimental. You proved to him that maybe there was some truth to the verses he'd heard poets recite again and again over the millennia. When with you, Crowley could feel the unconditional kindness beaming from you like rays from the sun, a readiness and willingness to be good that made him fall for humanity all over again.

And yet despite everything your eyes inspired in him, you were yet to see his own. And for good reason. Crowley still didn't understand what miracle, (or lack thereof) had transpired for you to be with him, but he did know that he wasn't about to put it at risk. You were his anti-thesis; made up of all things good and loveable. The thought of how quickly you'd leave the moment you saw his eyes and all they stood for was one that plagued him daily. But on the other side of the coin, Crowley couldn't disregard the fact that you deserved to know. You deserved the truth. You deserved so much more...

It was time for the bell to toll.

And so, Crowley followed his usual routine of picking you up after your shift, only this time the music was cranked up double what it usually would be (already deafening) in an attempt to drown out his frantic overthinking. The windows shuddered with each guitar solo and Crowley was sunk so far down in his seat his foot was pressed uncomfortably against the gas pedal. If it weren't for the fact that the Bentley was somewhat sentient, he probably would have swerved off the road a mile or two back.

The moment he set foot in your home an uncomfortable burning sensation shot up his spine. He cursed whoever had blessed your house before realising that said uncomfortable feeling was in fact a combination of both his nerves as well as the conscious he forgot he had.

The drive back to the flat was tortuous, for Crowley at least. Your hand was on his thigh as he drove, drawing circles into the fabric. The ever-alluring sound of Freddie Mercury's voice droned on in the background as Crowley rehearsed what he wanted to say, swapping out words and rephrasing sentences before restarting altogether. The closer he got to home the more hopeless he began to feel and by the time he was holding the flat door open for you Crowley fought the urge to find the nearest cave, catacomb or other undisturbed dwelling to take a century-long nap in. He just wanted to wait this whole thing out.

The reminder that you wouldn't be here in a century served as an adequate kick in the arse as he closed the door behind him.

His shoulders were slumped and his steps slow as he moved through the apartment's halls in all their bleakness. The only room in the entirety of the flat that had any real colour was his conservatory, filled to the brim with succulents and tropical plants. The moment he entered said room he was met with the sight of green leaves and an earthy scent heavy in the air. It was an impressive sight, really; plants that stretched feet off the ground, leaves proudly pointed skyward, (although given Crowley’s presence it is far more likely this display was out of fear.) Ivy vines had begun to climb up the walls, something Crowley had intended to deal with before deciding he was rather fond of how they contrasted the greyness of the polished stone they clung too.

Among it all, in the very centre of the botanical display, the plant you'd gifted him proudly sat. A purple Iris, its petals bright and its leaves healthy and succulent. Its scent was sweeter than that of the other plants and the flower, despite its size, did not seem intimidated by the impressive foliage that surrounded it.

Crowley’s fingers delicately ghosted over the leaves. the sentimental side of him liked to believe that the flower’s flourishing beauty was because it had been gifted to him by you. Something about everything growing better with love. The more reasonable part of him acknowledged that it was due to the fact the plant had been placed nearest to the window as well as being the first watered each morning and night. The battle between his sentiment and rationality was nullified by the fact that you were also the reason the plant received such treatment, favouritism having quickly steered his hand.

You just had that habit about you; inspiring beauty whether you meant to or not.

As Crowley studied the flower that in so many ways reminded him of you, he imagined the leaves becoming dry and shrivelled, of the royal purple petals withering beneath his touch. He pulled his hand away.

He found you reclined along the couch, one arm covering your face whilst the other hung weightlessly off the side of the furniture. Your dramatic pose was reminiscent of some tragic renaissance painting and the sight was one that inspired such fondness Crowley didn't even mention how you had your feet up on the fine velvet.

“Tired, love?” He asked instead.

“You have no idea. Today was an utter nightmare.”

Even whilst talking about the most mundane of things your voice was siren-like, resonant with divinity. Crowley could listen to you for hours, for the rest of his life. Until his immortal heart stopped and the earth beneath him turned to ash.

“I feel better now that I'm here with you.”

The words sent a dagger into his side, the following guilt twisting it in place. He moved to join you on the sofa and with a gentle tap to your ankle, he watched you move your feet before taking a seat beside you.

Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The tension in his body and the seriousness of his expression was not something you were used to. He spoke before you could voice your concern.

“There's something I want–” He swallowed. “Something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.” Your breathy laugh that encompassed the word was an admirable attempt to hide your nerves but Crowley knew you better. “What is it?”

Silence followed.

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times, no words passing from his lips despite how hard he tried to voice them. There was a building pressure in his temples and he felt like his forked tongue was tied in a knot.

“Crowley.” Your hand travelled across the plane of his thigh and grabbed his own. It was a comforting touch yet he fought the urge to pull away. “What is it? You're scaring me.”

Another twist of the dagger.

“I– I just, it's that...” Crowley made a noise that fell somewhere between a groan and a whine. “I... I'm–” foreswearing words altogether, he reached for his glasses. With shaking hands, he pulled them away. “I'm not... good.”

He couldn't bring himself to look at you, to see the horror and fear in your eyes. “I'm quite the opposite actually.”

He felt your hand leave his own, the skin you'd once touched feeling bare. His chest hurt, his eyes stung and when he finally turned to you your fear and disbelief sent another sharpened blade through his chest.

“What–” The word fell quietly, the beginning of a sentence you'd never finish. Crowley took the liberty of answering regardless.

“Demon, unholy horror, the reason children are afraid of the dark.”

When you said nothing, he continued.

“I wanted to tell you. I should have told you. I never meant for this to go so far. I tried to stop it so many times but then you'd say or do something and I– just never wanted it to end. And I know that's selfish but–” Crowley motioned to his eyes. “That's what I am. Selfish, unforgivable– a bad omen.”

As his words set in you remained unmoving. Your eyes hadn't left his, not since he'd pulled off his glasses and laid everything bare.

“Love...” There was another stretch of silence and Crowley felt like he was drowning; like he was back at Mesopotamia with wind and rain at his back and a wave so large it blended with the sky fast approaching on the horizon. “Please, say something.”

You said nothing.

Rather, you raised your hand against his cheek, thumb timidly tracing beneath his eye, as if to ensure it was real.

Crowley flinched.

“This is what you've been hiding from me? All this time.” You asked. “And here I thought you just really didn't like the sun.”

Crowley blinked a few times, lips falling in a frown. He backed away from your touch.

“Crowley...”

“You've just found out that I'm evil incarnate and you're making jokes.”

“What would you prefer I do?”

“I'm a demon.” Crowley ensured to emphasise the word. “I'd prefer you did what anyone else would do.”

‘Leave.’ This part was silent. ‘For your own sake.’

You didn't waver. Your hand fell back against his shoulder, testing the waters and when he didn't pull away you continued.

“From my understanding, demons are supposed to be cruel, unlovable. So if you're a demon,” your hand ventured to his neck, Crowley's eyes falling shut despite himself as you traced his jaw. “Then no offence love but you're not a very good one.”

Crowley couldn't quite place the feeling that took hold of him at your words, but it left him feeling both hollowed and relieved. His eyes stung again, but this time he was smiling.

“You're being far too conversational about this.” His fingers encircled your wrist, he could feel the steady beat of your pulse beneath his thumb. “This really doesn't bother you..?”

You shook your head. “And even if it did, I'm in too deep now to get hung up on something like that.”

Crowley tried to think rationally but instead, he thought of the beauty of the cosmos, of dark purple petals and perfumed air. Of your eyes and their warmth and this time the idea of a withering flower didn't even cross his mind.

“You're sure about this, falling in love with a demon. Dangerous business, that.”

“I'll take my chances,” you mused. “Besides, being without you is the only real hell I can imagine.”

Crowley chortled, boyish and pure, a noise that certainly should not have come from a demon. "Aziraphale been loaning you his books, has he?"

“No, but I am trying to cheer you up." You gently nudged his side. “Is it working?”

Crowley's reaction told you it was. His eyes in all their vibrant brilliance shone so bright you felt you were staring at the sun. When he reached for his glasses, your hand worked on its own accord to stop him.

“Leave them off, please? I want to see you." Your words were cleansing and for the first time in an eternity, he felt worthy. Worthy of adoration, of love, of you.

Crowley kissed you, and you did not wilt.