#we writers put a lot of effort in as well

[hopepetal]

Reminding everyone that reblogs are better than likes

Especially on tumblr

[mantisgodsdomain]

Anyways, to those who have been wondering what we've been doing during our impromptu Tumblr Vacation or whatever we're calling it, we've been trying to find a playthrough of Baldur's Gate 3 that is made by someone who doesn't annoy the shit out of us, and also tormenting Karlach Cliffgate (as you do)

[facetsofthecloset]

i think one of my biggest hurdles as a writer (especially original fiction, but it also affects my fanfiction) is that i have an incredibly American/British-centric idea of what Fiction Books are supposed to be like, even though my personal lived experience is tangential to those things at best.

(rambly weird personal essay under the cut lol)

when i was a kid, i mostly read Doctor Dolittle and Narnia books, and when i got older i read HP, Septimus Heap, Artemis Fowl, Fablehaven, Sherlock Holmes, etc.

pretty standard kid's fantasy/fiction (i mean not Holmes but y'know). it definitely informed what i thought Fiction was supposed to be, and all of it is incredibly Western.

i've wanted to be a fantasy author since i was really young, but i could never really get anywhere because i was trying to copy what i read. and the problem with that is...well, i'm Japanese American, but i grew up going back and forth between Hawaii and Japan.

i have no personal connection to the environments the books i loved grew out of, so copying it was impossible to do organically. i didn't have the background lived experience to seep naturally into my writing in order to recreate these atmospheres and cultures.

from the language, to the culture, to the ecosystems and climate, none of it was what i knew was right outside my window. i couldn't write what i knew, because as far as i knew, you just...weren't supposed to.

you weren't supposed to write about the tropics except as some distant hypothetical. you weren't supposed to mention jungles outside of metaphors. winter and snow was a given. you're not writing a fantasy book without winter, you fool. no one knows what a japan is. no one knows what a hawaii is either. no one knows you, you're not supposed to exist in these books.

i think part of that is what appealed to me, actually, in wanting escapism, but when it comes to writing, it's a big hurdle. i'm a lot more comfortable writing from my own experiences now, but i still find myself wanting to ape the style and aesthetics of what i loved growing up.

it really doesn't help that i hesitate to claim any singular cultural identity for myself because i don't feel like an authority on either. if you pressed me, i'd say i'm American, but i'm still so far removed from what 99% of America (as in, the mainland) is.

i don't think of deer or squirrels or redwoods or prairie dogs or blue jays when i think about the "America" i'm from. i think of centipedes and green sea turtles and peacocks and jackson chameleons and myna birds (most of those are nonnative to hawaii but they were what i saw commonly growing up)

so there's just a huge disconnect between What I Know and the stories i want to write. which is annoying, why don't i want to write more stories about the beautiful world i knew and grew up in? there's magic there. there's potential for fantasy and adventure there. of course there is.

but no. i keep trying to recreate Narnia, or draw on European folk and fae, because i feel like i have none of my own. nothing that's allowed to appear in print.

i once read half of Julie Kagawa's The Iron King. i only read half because i hated it, part of which is probably because i was just too old for it.

but the other part, when i think about it is...i picked that book initially because i read that the author grew up in Hawaii, and she's Japanese. not first gen like me, but i thought, hey, maybe she'll get it.

but The Iron King is like a weird Midsummer Night's Dream thing, it's very old-Europe-filtered-and-strained-through-centuries-of-American. it's very temperate zone. i saw no trace of home or kin in those words and i think that disappointment is what turned me off it so virulently.

i wonder if my writing is as empty when i use fairies and satyrs and other mainstays of Western fantasy. if it comes across as a string of hollow tropes; words and ideas copied without heart or belief or connection into a story simply because that's what you're supposed to use.

i wonder why i use those things.

(part of it is because i'm definitely not native hawaiian and would feel weird about just lifting stuff bc i don't know if it'd be disrespectful or not and would have to do research on it. at this point, fairies are public domain, but menehune...ehhh, i don't think so.)

i think it's because i have so many examples and blueprints to work off of if i take ideas from the mainstream. whatever i try to do using me and what i know, and what is real and home to me...i don't know how to do that. i've never been shown a way.

(part of that is definitely that i just need to read more but i have a hard time starting new media of any kind, especially books. and i'm super picky with books especially so it makes it worse, but urgh i'm trying)

anyway i'm only thinking about this because i realized that trying to design a character that is the embodiment of Deer in Summer Forest is really hard when i've only seen a deer irl a handful of times and all the colors and leaf shapes are wrong for deer when i think of a Summer Forest. i'm designing a god by peering through a cloudy stained glass window into a room that only exists through stories and words. i can make a heart but there's no blood in it.

[hxlxnaaa]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in order to get a creepy coworker off your back, you begrudgingly let sylus play the part of your fake boyfriend. unfortunately, your emotions and pride quickly spiral out of control.

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: sylus

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first person pov, enemies to lovers, fake dating, part 1 out of 2, angst, some swearing

★ 𝐰𝐜: 5k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: i had HELLA writers block while writing this, so if it seems chaotic and rushed that's why. i really wanted to scrap this but i spent so long on it i would be disappointed if i did. this is part one out of two, and i promise to get part two out super soon! it should be a lot better than this one *sob*

“Is that a new necklace?”

I grimace, the annoying twerp’s voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

“No, Nicholas, it's the one I always wear.” I press my lips into a tight line, staring at the papers in front of me. After everything I’ve tried, I don’t know how he hasn’t caught on with how absolutely, utterly disinterested I am.

Nicholas was a recent graduate from the academy, starting his first year here at the Association. At first he seemed sweet, like an infatuated kid, but it quickly worsened and now I have to deal with harassment every day at work.

He’d do anything and everything to spark a conversation, trying to work any attention out of me despite all my efforts of ignoring him. I tried to be nice originally, letting him down easily whenever he’d pay me compliments and ask me out to lunch.

That didn’t work.

He became more persistent, and I resorted to either giving him the silent treatment or being straight up rude. Throwing him off my back seemed like an impossible task, and I was convinced I had developed some sort of parasite that was bound to me until I retired.

“Ah, I’ve never noticed…” Nicholas sat himself in front of me, and I could feel his stare on my face.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

“Hey guys!”

Thank God.

Forcing a smile at Tara’s cheerfulness, Nicholas paid her a nod, clearly unsettled with her interruption. She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. If there was anyone who was capable of putting a wedge in between me and my borderline stalker, it was Tara.

“Are you excited for the Hunter’s Ball? I can't believe it’s already coming up…” She sighed dreamily behind me, resting her cheek on the top of my head. While the Hunter’s Ball wasn’t my favorite event, it was typically a good time.

Well, at least before Nicholas came along.

I couldn’t imagine how it would go this year, him crawling six feet up my ass as I try to shake him off the whole night. It’s bad enough I have to deal with him sober, I can’t even imagine how much more unbearable he’d become with drinks in his system. This was the one night of the year the Association actually shows their appreciation for their employees, and I’d be damned if I couldn’t enjoy myself.

“It’s always nice we get a plus one,” Tara mentions, “I can't wait to see who everyone brings." She nudges my shoulder with her arm, laughing.

The look in Nicholas’ eyes told me everything he was about to say. I could practically hear the words come out of his mouth before he even spoke them-

“Yeah, I’m gonna bring my boyfriend.” I spoke before thinking, the words an act of desperation. Nicholas’ eyes widened and Tara’s arms flew from my body, as she whipped herself to stand in front of me.

Oh no, why would I say that- Why did I say that?!

“Your… what!” She started grasping at my hands, questions flying out of her mouth before I couldn’t even process half of them, “Since when? What’s his name? Where’d you meet him? Do you have any pictures?”

I knew I had gotten myself into trouble, I didn’t even have the slightest clue as to who I could possibly feign to be my boyfriend; but the look on Nicholas’ face told me I needed to keep up whatever I was doing, because it was working.

I smiled innocently, “We’ve been keeping it on the down low, things are still pretty new. I was planning to hard launch us at the Ball.” Chuckling nervously, I was convinced nobody was believing a word I was saying.

“Ohmygosh Mystery Man! I’m so excited!” Tara continued to blabber on, trying to pull any detail she could out of me. I made eye contact with Nicholas and thought about how soon the Ball was - only a week away.

Letting out a sigh of relief because of my believable lie, the feeling soon faded and was replaced with chest crushing stress. I had no boyfriend, and no plan; I was going to have to think fast.

-

Laying in my bed that night, I scoured my brain for any potential suitor. I thought maybe Zayne, a cardiac surgeon and childhood best friend. He’d be perfect, all my coworkers would be so pleased, but a cow would have to jump over the moon before he’d even think about complying. Maybe Xavier’s friend Jeremiah? A sweet florist…No, Xavier would never let me do that.

I flipped onto my stomach, screaming into my pillow. Smushing my face into the fabric, I silently prayed I’d suffocate and be free from this mess I’d webbed myself into.

Before I could pass out and be put out of my misery, my phone started to ring.

Not even looking at the caller id, I picked it up and answered with a disgruntled, “Hello?”

“You never sound pleased to hear from me, Kitten.”

I screamed into the pillow again, Sylus being the complete utter last person I wanted to hear from right now.

He chuckled over the line, “Actually, I think that might be the unhappiest I’ve heard you.”

“What do you want?”

“Can I not just call to talk? I’ve had a rough day and wanted to hear your voice.”

I let out a forced laugh, “You’ve had a rough day? YOU’VE had a rough day? You will not believe the day I had then.”

His voice softened, “Talk to me about it then.”

While I most definitely realized my day couldn’t be comparable to his, as he was essentially a mob boss running the N109 Zone, venting about my problems felt nice. As much as I couldn’t stand Sylus, with his incessant arrogance and backhanded flattery, he was easy to talk to sometimes.

Sometimes.

“I don’t even know how I got myself into this situation. Well, I do know, I just didn’t mean to!” I groaned, throwing my face into my hands.

He sits in silence for a minute, and I can hear the soft playing of one of his records in the background. It’s annoying how he feels the need to call and bother me, with a side of music, to wind down at night.

“When is it?” He finally asks, and I hear shuffling.

“Next Saturday, so…” I can practically see the clock ticking down, “Shit, a week from today.”

“What time?”

“9- Sylus, why?”

“I’ll be there at 8:30 then.” There’s mirth in his voice and my face goes pale, “Sylus, no, don’t you dare. It cannot be you, just let me borrow one of your men or something.”

Sylus lets out a low laugh, “Now why would I do that when I could just be your date?”

“Not date,” I cut him off, “fake boyfriend.”

“Of course, fake boyfriend.” He clucked his tongue, “Why would I let someone else be your fake boyfriend?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re the big bad Onychinus boss?” Pressing a finger to my temple to ease the headache that he was becoming, I started to pace my floor. “You’re stepping into enemy territory at this event, there’s no way I’ll be able to save your ass if you get found out, let alone what will happen to me and my place at the Association.”

“I’ve already met some of your coworkers before, remember? It’s best if it's me instead of some stranger, and trust me sweetie, they won’t know.”

My coworkers did take a liking to him when they met during one of our outings, Sylus just had this charisma about him that sucked everyone in; the mysterious fruit vendor Skye who was absolutely horrid at karaoke. He stole their hearts quickly, and I’m lucky if they don’t ask me at least once a week how he’s doing. Sylus was just magnetic like that, even if you tried your damndest to hate him, there’s just something about his demeanor that’s magic.

He has a point here, and it’s killing me to admit he’s right.

“Fine,” I snap, “but absolutely no funny business.”

“I’m not sure what you could possibly mean by that, Kitten.” Sylus lets out a low laugh that makes me want to punch my phone, “I’ll be there at 8:30.”

Before I can respond, he quickly hangs up. I’m left sitting on my bed with racing thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong. Was bringing Sylus really worth getting this creep off my back? Well, if there was anyone who could scare him off, it would be the leader of Onychinus. Worst case scenario, I have Sylus pull a gun out on him.

I shake my head, trying to clear my stupid thoughts.

I sent him a picture of the invitation, which included the dress code. I wasn’t too worried about him making a fool out of me, just the overwhelming anxiety of bringing a top criminal as my date to a work event where we quite literally are attempting to hunt this exact man down.

Trying to trust Sylus isn’t the easily discoverable type, I make a miserable attempt to put my mind to rest, and get some sleep.

-

The next week following my abrupt news of a boyfriend was hell. Not to my surprise, word was quickly spread through the Association, and I was constantly being flooded with questions and endless pressure to just ‘give them a name!’. I even had Xavier at my desk with questions one morning, and he was always the type to steer away from work related gossip.

Not to mention Sylus himself was being utterly insufferable. He was taking this far too seriously, sending lunch and flowers to my work with paper love notes attached. It was bringing on more attention at work, and every time I told him to stop, he’d just send more extravagant bouquets that cluttered my desk and made the surrounding area smell like a funeral.

At one point, I woke up to a box in the mail. Inside was a black velvet dress, a ruby necklace, and heels. Sending him an angry text about how I have my own clothes, he just responded by transferring 200 dollars into my bank account saying, ‘Get your nails done too. Match the outfit.’

By Saturday night, I was almost ready for everyone to meet Sylus, just so people would stop with the ‘fake boyfriend trivia’ while I’m on the clock, and his annoying attempts at romantic gestures.

The night of, at 8:30 on the dot, I heard a knock at my door.

On the other side was a well dressed Sylus; I think it was the first time I had ever seen him done up so nicely. He wasn’t ever one to slack on his looks, but in his black pinstripe suit and red tie that matched my gifted necklace, I had to take a second. Even though he made me constantly want to take my gun and replicate the time I shot him, I could never deny he’s hot. His arguably perfect looks just adds to the hatred.

He looked me up and down, smirking. The dress he had gotten me was backless and stopped at my ankles, with a slit up to my thigh that had me worried that with one wrong move I’d flash all my coworkers. Opening his mouth to I’m sure to make a snide comment, I cut him off.

“I have to put on my shoes and that necklace, but then I’m ready.” I walked over to the coffee table and grabbed the ruby piece that was gifted, struggling with the clasp thanks to the nails I was practically forced to get.

“Here.” Coming up behind me, Sylus took the necklace from my hands. Brushing my hair out of the way, I felt his fingers against my neck as he secured the jewelry with ease. I turned around to face him, and he smiled down at me.

He gestured to the couch, “Sit.”

His one word commands were starting to get on my nerves. “What?” I glared at him.

Grabbing my shoulder and softly pushing me back, I tumbled onto the couch. Sylus snickered, “I said sit, Kitten.”

Getting on his knees, he picked up my ankle, slipping the heel onto my foot.

“I could’ve done this myself.” Scoffing, I averted my eyes to anywhere that wasn’t Sylus on his knees in front of me.

“I’m sure you could with those nails, sweetie.” He hooked the straps around my ankle, and I felt my skin burn red where his fingers danced. It was definitely red with anger.

For sure.

Standing when he was done, Sylus reached a hand out to me. Narrowing my eyes at his hand, I ignored the help. To my dismay, I stood up too fast in heels and lost a bit of my balance. Sylus caught my waist and gave me a smug smile, pulling me into him. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight, my love.”

I grimaced, pulling away from his grasp and heading to the door. “Oh, do not do that. No more of that.”

“We have to get into character, I’m just being prepared.”

“Be in character when we’re there. Not here.”

“I have to get into the mindset.” Sylus creeped closer to me, and I stepped back. At this point, I was essentially pinned in between him and the door. “After all, I have to practice so I can impress everybody.” He leaned down, his breath fanning against the side of my neck.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, opening the door behind me and taking a backwards step out. Sylus stumbled at the sudden movement, and I smirked at his loss of composure. “Let’s go, we’ll be late.”

-

When we arrived, I felt my heart begin to race. All the mental preparation I had done for this exact night fled my mind as soon as Sylus put the car into park. My worry was not of showing off my new fancy fake boyfriend, it was the fact that I was bringing my new fancy fake boyfriend into an arena that was hunting him. Over the past week I’ve tried telling myself he’s not easily discoverable, I mean, if he was, the Association would’ve had him tracked down by now. However, knowing my luck, I was preparing for the worst.

Sylus gently placed his hand on my thigh, attempting to give me a reassuring smile, “It’ll be okay, Kitten. Just follow my lead.”

We’re fucked.

He walked around, opening the door for me. His car was clearly the nicest and most expensive out of all the guests tonight, and I knew if anybody saw I’d never hear the end of it.

When we were nearing the entrance, I sighed, shoving down my pride and grabbing Sylus’ arm, wrapping myself sweetly around his bicep. I watched his lips curve upward into a smug smile, and I suppressed the urge to throw myself off and take my heel to his-

“Invitation please.” Sylus handed the men working the door the two slips of paper, and I begrudgingly walked in clinging to his arm.

‘Playing the character’, I thought.

The venue the Ball was being held at was extravagant, with a high, golden ceiling, and golden marble floors.

It was filled to the brim with people that worked for the Association, plus their guests. I winced at the sheer amount of people, automatically going into defense mode due to the overwhelming fact that we were outnumbered.

“Smile, sweetie.” Letting go of his arm, Sylus took his pointer finger and thumb, lightly pulling the corners of my mouth upward.

I nipped at his finger, and he poked my nose as a warning.

I heard someone shriek my name, and I whipped around to see Tara quickly approaching. “Oh wow, you’re beautiful!” She wrapped me up in a tight hug, rocking me side to side. Letting go of me just as fast, Tara gasped when she saw Sylus.

“Skye! Oh my gosh it’s you, how sweet!” She fawned over us, and he smiled kindly at her, “You look lovely tonight, Tara.” If he kept up the nice talk, I was going to put my head through one of the walls.

“Here, come with me. Some of us already have a table together!”

Tara dragged us over to a table where a few of my most nagging coworkers stood around talking. Introducing him to the ones who had never met him, I groaned internally, ready for the torment of questions to begin.

“So,” Tara dropped the first bomb, “how long have you two been a thing?” I know this has been weighing on her worse than me all week.

“About a month now.” Sylus answered with ease. I tried to suppress a shocked look on my face, because I was planning on doing all the talking; but that continued, them rapid firing questions and Sylus answering all of them as if he had this all thought out. I mean, shit, he was convincing me.

“I have to know how this happened!” One of them said, and Sylus tucked my hair behind my ear, pretending to recall the moment.

“I had feelings for her for a while,” He said, smiling down at me, “and it got to a point where I couldn’t take it anymore. It was spur of the moment, but I showed up at her door in the middle of the night and had to ask her if she felt the same.”

Damn. He was good.

All the girls squealed, “That's so romantic!”

I placed my hand on Sylus’ chest, batting my eyelashes up at him, “I’m gonna go get a drink, d’you want anything?” He grabbed my hand, matching my energy, and kissing my knuckles, “No, sweetie, that’s quite alright. I’ll stay here and entertain your friends.”

All of them cooed at the sight, probably thinking we were so lovesick for each other it hurt. Well, it did hurt, this whole thing was a pain in my ass I needed to be over.

I grabbed a glass of wine from the drink table, the group out of sight. Sighing, I resisted the urge to down the glass all at once. While I was uncomfortable, I couldn’t deny everything was going well. Everyone was pleased, so I tried to relax.

“That's a pretty necklace,” I heard from behind me, “is it new?”

Nevermind.

Turning around, there stood Nicholas. His eyelids drooped, and he reeked of wine.

“What did you say?” I asked, looking around for the quickest exit route.

“I said I liked your necklace. Is it new?”

God, does this twerp have any other material?

“Yes, it is.” A low voice said, and I felt an arm wrap around my waist. My head shot up to meet Sylus in the eyes; I guess my face was screaming, ‘Help me!’, because he gave my side a soft squeeze of reassurance.

“Oh.” Was all Nicholas replied, shooting his eyes back and forth between Sylus and I. In his head, I imagined the pieces clicking together. ‘This is it,’ I thought, ‘finally he’ll leave me alone!’

“This song is nice… Would you care to dance?” There were no thoughts behind his eyes. This guy was genuinely dense. I could’ve sworn my jaw dropped at his stupidity, and Sylus chuckled next to me.

“So sorry, but tonight she’s mine.” Swiftly sweeping me away, Nicholas and my glass of wine were quickly left behind.

“Why don’t you dance with me instead, sweetie?” Sylus said, leading me to the open floor where people were dancing to the soft classical music.

Sylus put my hand on his shoulder, intertwining my other hand with his. Placing his hand on my lower back, he pulled me in closer to him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes stared into mine, and there was something behind them I couldn’t quite place my finger on. We started slowly ballroom dancing in our own little spot on the floor, a bit away from everyone else. As much as I wanted to strangle this man, I could relax a little in his arms. He just felt safe sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re doing good tonight.” Sylus said, still looking into my eyes.

“Thanks.” I started playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “So where do we go from here?”

He raised a brow, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do, Kitten.”

“How am I going to tell my coworkers that we ‘broke up’ right after this? They’ll be suspicious.”

“We could keep doing this for a while.” Sylus shrugged, smirking.

Groaning, I slammed my head on his shoulder, “Tonight was bad enough, I can’t do this for any longer.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

He was right. I didn’t have a better idea.

-

So we did just that.

I was going to give it two months. Then, it would say we were together for three months total, which looked like a completely reasonable time to test run a relationship and then call it quits.

At first, I was completely miserable. I already couldn’t stand Sylus as a friend, how could I stand him as my ‘boyfriend’? After that night at the Ball, to my dismay, he completely won everybody over. It made me feel like I had to put more effort into faking all of this.

The extravagant gifts sent to my work started getting sent to my place too. I told him he didn’t have to send them to me outside of work, let alone at all, but he always insisted so he could “stay in character”.

Whether it was convincing me to let him take me out to fancy places, like dinner or a show, it was always just to keep him ‘in character’. I think he just liked using that excuse so I would be forced to hang out with him and not be able to deny or complain about it.

Though, after a bit, it became easy to slip into a groove.

I started to not mind the talk about Sylus; everything started to become bearable, and dare I say it, kind of fun.

We had played with the claw machines once, and he won a white cat plushie. Jokingly, I had told him it looks exactly like him, and snapped a picture of the cat next to his face to prove a point.

I made that photo my wallpaper, to make things more realistic. It freaked me out for a while whenever I’d open my phone, but I came to like it after a while. Sylus looked kind of cute in the photo, his expression mocking the plushies. He looked kind, warm, a soft look on his face you didn’t see on him often. The more I saw the photo, the more it made me smile.

I began looking forward to his calls, his texts. He’d call me to say good morning, or tell me goodnight, even if he was in the middle of a meeting. The ‘fake dates’ became less uncomfortable as I grew more accustomed to the situation we had put ourselves into. The roles we were playing came easier and easier with time.

Which was causing a problem.

It wasn’t hard to notice the way my body would flush when he touched me, or how my once strong demeanor around him would start to falter. Words and actions of his that would be fast to anger me, quickly changed into something else.

I was starting to care about him. How annoying.

There was one day when Sylus decided he was going to pick me up from work. “Your coworkers will think it's cute.” He had said, and who was I to deny a free ride home.

He showed up on his bike in his leather jacket, in all his badass glory. Leaning against the bike, he stood up straight and smiled at me when I came outside. As time had gone on, Sylus was slowly becoming less hard and uncaring towards me. He began treating me like I was fragile, always so gentle with me. Him getting into character I suppose.

Sylus held his hand out towards me, and when I took it, he pulled me into his chest. I squealed, laughing at the sudden gesture.

“They’re looking,” He said, glancing at a few of my coworkers still inside, watching us intensely, “Kiss me.”

I choked, “What?”

He grabbed my chin, tilting it up slightly. He cocked his head to the side a bit, almost as if to ask, ‘is this okay?’.

Nodding my head yes, Sylus smirked before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine. For how aggressive he can be as the leader of Onychinus, the kiss was unusually soft. I had imagined kissing him, for all of this, and I never expected him to be the type to be so kind and gentle.

My blood was rushing in my ears and I thought I was going to melt under his hands. I didn’t realize just how bad I subconsciously wanted this until it was happening, and I wanted more. I wanted to kiss him so hard I could steal the air from his lungs, I wanted to grip his shirt so tightly my knuckles turned white because I could finally have him.

When he pulled away, and kissed the corner of my eye, I knew I was fucked.

I didn’t just care about him, I wanted him. I wanted Sylus to be mine, I wanted this to be real, I wanted-

No, I couldn’t want anything.

It would never work. Our lives were too different, we were too different, everything would be doomed from the start. He was a faraway dream that would never come true. He could never be what I wanted.

I always wanted security, someone stable and safe. Sylus could never give me that.

So why do I want him so badly?

-

It was my friend's birthday party.

I had invited Sylus, because what had originally been a fake relationship to get a creep coworker off my back, spread like a wildfire to a fake relationship that was now known by all my friends.

I only invited him because I knew it would be strange if I showed up without him.

After he kissed me, and my feelings became a living hell to deal with, I started to pull back; started to psych myself out mentally, constantly spending time just trying to convince myself how bad we would be for each other. Trying to will myself to hate him again, go back to where I was two months ago. When Sylus was a nuisance, an annoying pest.

I don’t even really think he noticed. Or if he did, I couldn’t tell.

When we got to the party, the music and laughter could be heard from outside, a drastic change from the almost silent car ride. Sylus tried to make conversation, and I shut him down almost every time.

We walked in, and my friends all greeted him with easy familiarity. They gave him hugs, pats on the back, and he was welcomed effortlessly.

I stood a distance away as he laughed with my friends, and my chest began to hurt. Guilt, dread, I felt doomed. He wasn’t meant to be here, he was never meant to be here. Sylus doesn’t belong with my friends. Sylus doesn’t belong with me.

None of this is real. All of this is one little lie that spun into a web of something so much bigger, and I’m stuck in it.

He looks happy with them, happy with my friends. Happy in my space, with my people. How could he? He’s an intruder, he knows it.

I knew tonight was the night I was done. This couldn’t go on any longer. No more playing house with Sylus, no more pretending. We’re adults, and this whole thing was so childish, and it ends now.

I stepped outside, sitting on the back patio. The night air was cold, and I wasn’t sure if it was the sharp air of my distress that was making my lungs constrict.

“There you are.”

I didn’t turn around to meet the voice, just kept staring into the trees ahead.

Sylus stood beside me, running his fingers through the top of my hair. I relished the feeling, ‘one last time, it’s okay’.

He didn’t ask any questions, didn’t ask why I was out here, if I was okay. I was happy for that, it could give me another reason to be mad at him. To hate him again. To try and rile up all my old feelings, stir old bitterness.

“I want to go home.” I finally said, breaking the silence.

We got in the car, this time he didn’t try to speak. His face was hard again, the soft look long gone. I think, in a way, he knew too. He knows this is for the better.

I said goodbye, told him goodnight before he left. Told him to drive safely.

It had been two months, that’s what I gave him. It was time for it to be over anyways. I changed my wallpaper, changed his name back. I didn’t care if I had to deal with Nicholas at my job anymore, anything was better than the gutted feeling I got from every interaction with Sylus. Nothing was worth that.

The next day, it was radio silence. For the first time in two months, there was nothing. No good morning, no texts throughout the day, no calls to tell me goodnight; and that just continued. For days. Silence.

I had perfected the speech I was going to tell my coworkers, “We gave it our best, but it just wasn’t going to work out between us.” It was reassurance for them, and myself.

It just wasn’t going to work out between us.

(divider by cafekitsune)

[yellowocaballero]

There's a genre of post that I see pretty frequently, which can overall be summed up as, "Modern fandom has a culture problem where fanfic authors are treated as content producers instead of community members and their fanfic is treated as a commodity to be consumed instead of a high-effort labor of love that deserves attention and compliments given directly to the author". I agree with 3/4ths of that. I find the part I disagree with very interesting, the same way I find a lot of writeblr interesting, because it's a perspective that I had to work very hard to actually understand.

Because the posts have such a warped view of what writing is and why we post our writing! They say that fanfic fights against the commodified internet we live in, but all they're doing is changing the currency of payment in this attention economy. Another way you can summarize about 70% of these posts is, "My payment for writing and posting my fanfiction is compliments, and if you do not give me those compliments you are not paying. If you give those compliments behind my back, or talk about them privately without giving them to me as well, then you are stealing from me." I don't want to put it like that, but a lot of these posts use words like 'deprive', as if the reader who enjoys the fic without commenting is withholding something from them that they deserve. They use the word engagement, and they do talk about how part of that engagement is just the joy of talking about AUs and ships with other people, but when people say that comments are their motivation to keep writing, what they mean is that validation is their motivation to keep writing. Which is compliments.

I understand that, because I understand that fanfic writers are not immune to the attention economy. But I don't understand how almost every one of these posts talk about how this lack of attention makes them stop writing - that this act of theft is killing their desire to write. I could understand this if they meant 'desire to POST fic' (I don't post fic I think zero people would read.), but they talk about how lack of payment stops them from writing at all.

IMHO, that is what creates a commodity from fic. People want to treat fic as art, but an artist makes art for themself. Art is made because we want to hold parts of skills and ourselves in our hands. If you won't make art if you get no payment, then you have devalued the art completely.

We think of AO3 as this unique site that's born entirely from passion and is filled with fics written for love of the game. But guilt-tripping posts that shame people for not commenting on a fic they enjoy, and that describe how there's no point in writing fic if it's not getting attention, are directly contributing towards the culture of treating fic like a commodity.

I also really want a fandom culture where the relationship between artist and reader is reciprocal, where it feels like a community, and where I get to talk about my fanfic with people. My favorite part of posting fanfic is rambling about it on my blog, because I can talk about my art all day and I love it when people stop and listen. But I love that because I love my own art. If you love your own art, then it'll always have value.

Also Google your username, just trust me, that's how you find The Secret Discussions. Someone made a TikTok fansong of me once. WHAT?

[ohsweetmiko]

daisuke headcannons

daisuke [mouthwashing] headcannons!

happy holidays everyone! hope this brings you some joy during this holiday season. remember you are loved, and that people look forward to you. <3

warnings: implied fem! reader contains sfw, as well as nsfw. please read with caution!

loves and reblogs appreciated ❤️

SFW

· even if you guys are only just friends, he is always the first one to say good morning to you.

· wants to be the first one to put a smile on your face, especially on your bad days.

· hates sharing food, will swat away any hand that even comes close to him. however, only for you he will let his guard down.

· is obsessed with matching jewelry, especially necklaces, earrings and rings. letting you switch out his earrings is a must.

· loves being the little spoon. he just wants to ramble about his day as you hold him close to your chest. it’s always the best part of his day, aside from seeing you!

· pet names would include: love, baby, ma, sweetie, sweetheart, sugar, sweetener, mommy

· is obsessed with your scent. would openly just take a whiff, which would make you giggle. whatever shampoo you use—he needs to know. he’d randomly ask you during a cuddle session “how do you smell so good?”

· is an absolute gentleman. we all know this. will always hold the door for you and pull out your chair with a smile.

· loves watching you as you do something your passionate about. he loves to see you happy and smiling.

· he never really gives effort into his looks, but when you guys go out—thrown out the window. he’s panicking like crazy hoping he’s not underdressed.

· lives for when you play with his hair, especially while cuddling. he loves how relaxing it is for both you and him, as you trail your hand through his brown locs. loves when you pull it too

NSFW

· like i said, is obsessed with your scent. it turns him on so bad—even when you don’t even mean to. you guys could just be cuddling and suddenly he gets all hot and bothered muttering “..you smell nice.”

· mommy kink definitely. should’ve been expected as he has some bad mommy issues. one day you guys were fucking and it must’ve just slipped out. he was so relieved when you said it was fine and that it actually turned you on—is now his #1 pet name when making love.

· poor baby, please praise him. he loves hearing that he’s pleasuring you and that it feels good. it makes him so happy when you whisper how well he’s doing and how proud of him you are.

· hear me out—switch, but leaning bottom, a lot. i feel he’d be the best soft dom if you just need to relax and want him to take control that day. however most of the time your topping from the bottom, haha.

· very vocal in bed. he’s loud in and out of bed! huge, and i mean huge whiner. loves to whimper, as well as to be muffled by you. loves to be muffled by your pussy and chest.

· i think all mouthwashing writers agree he’s the aftercare king. like he’ll prepare a warm, soothing bath for you both and give you a nice massage after. of course it ends with a relaxing cuddle session, as well !

· loves your chest. sucking, squeezing, licking, anything as long as he’s touching your chest. loves putting hickies, definitely some of the deepest ones here.

· loves marking you. it messes him up so bad. he just loves showing everyone he’s yours and you’re his. also wants you to look in the mirror and remember he loves you. loves when you exchange the favor as well,

· makes him so flustered when anyone points out ones he thought he hid, or ones on his partner and they put the pieces together and find out what happened last night. (especially if you guys keeps your relationship low profile.)

· overall, this man is a walking green flag. i literally love him so much he’s my baby 🥹❤️

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Tell If That Post of Advice Is AI Bullshit

Right, I wasn't going to write more on this, but every time I block an obvious AI-driven blog, five more clutter up the tags. So this is my current (April 2024) advice on how to spot AI posts passing themselves off as useful writing advice.

No Personality - Look up a long-running writing blog, you'll notice most people try to make their posts engaging and coming from a personal perspective. We do this because we're writers and, well, we want to convey a sense of ourselves to our readers. A lot of AI posts are straight-forward - no sense of an actual person writing them, no variation in tone or text.

No Examples - No attempts to show how pieces of advice would work in a story, or cite a work where you could see it in action. An AI post might tell you to describe a person by highlighting two or three features, and that's great, but it's hard to figure out how that works without an example.

Short, Unhelpful Definitions - A lot of what I've seen amount to two or three-sentence listicles. 'When you want to write foreshadowing, include a hint of what you want foreshadowed in an earlier chapter.' Cool beans, could've figured that out myself.

SEO/AI Prompt Language Included - I've seen way too many posts start with "this post is about..." or "now we will discuss..." or "in this post we will..." in every single blog. This language is meant to catch a search engine or is ChatGPT reframing the prompt question. It's not a natural way of writing a post for the average tumblr user.

Oddly Clinical Language - Right, I'm calling out that post that tried to give advice on writing gay characters that called us "homosexuals" the entire time. That's a generative machine trying to stay within certain parameters, not an actual person who knows that's not a word you'd use unless you were trying to be insulting or dunking on your own gay ass in the funniest way possible.

Too Perfect - Most generative AI does not make mistakes (this is how many a student gets caught trying to use it to cheat). You can find ways to make it sound more natural and have it make mistakes, but that takes time and effort, and neither of those are really a factor in these posts. They also tend to have really polished graphics and use the same format every time.

Maximized Tags (That Are Pointless) - Anyone who uses more than 10 one-word tags is a cop. Okay, fine, I'm joking, but there's a minimal amount of tags that are actually useful when promoting a post. More tags are not going to get a post noticed by the algorithm, there is no algorithm. Not everyone has to use their tags to make snarky comments, but if your tags look like a spambot, I'm gonna assume you're a spambot.

No Reblogs From The Rest of Writblr - I'm always finding new Writblr folks who have been around for awhile, but every real person I've seen reblogs posts from other people. We've all got other stuff to do, I'm writing this blog to help others and so are they, the whole point of tumblr is to pass along something you think is great.

While you'll probably see some variation in the future - as people get wise to obviously generated text, they'll try to make it look less generated - but overall, there's still going to be tells to when something is fake.

I don't have any real advice for what to do about this (other than block those blogs, which is what I do). Like most AI bullshit, I suspect most of these blogs are just another grift, attempting to build large follower counts to leverage or sell something to in the future. They may progress past these tattletale features, but I'm still going to block them when I see them. I don't see any value in writing advice compiled from the work of better writers who put the effort in when I can just go find those writers myself.

[beforetimes]

my headcanon about the alternate timeline we see in s2ep7 is that instead of ekko and powder being close friends throughout their childhoods who became lovers with no friction, it actually took a while for them to bridge the gap that vi's death caused.

when we see ekko and powder go to vi's memorial for the first time and ekko asks if she was the one who caused their death, powder very quickly retorts that it was ekko's tip that ended up sending them on the job that killed her. i think that this is important not just because the writers wanted to explicitly say that the chain of events that led to the original timeline hinged on ekko's tip but also because in how quickly she said it, we can assume that this is something that's come up between them before.

ekko already is seen as a character who carries a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, mostly self-ascribed, which i tend to characterize as being born partially of guilt. i think guilt is a large part of his character and it would be somewhat irresponsible to shrug that off when speaking about his character in the alternate timeline that the original ekko drops in on.

powder is characterized as brighter and happier than jinx when she grows up in this universe with a support system, obviously, but she still has a tendency to anger. this is shown through how she tells ekko to get out before she does something she'll regret rather than rolling over in the face of his interrogation and insensitive statements. she also holds a grudge, as we see it takes ekko physically taking her to see vi's painted memorial in the firelight lair before she stops scowling at him in the bar and warms up to him again.

looking at all of these things, i think it's a fair assumption to make that following vi's death, there was a period of time where powder directly blamed ekko for what happened, and that ekko blamed himself as well. this, in my opinion, doesn't cheapen their relationship when they grow up into the people we see in s2ep7, but deepens it.

i think the act of forgiving is something that takes a long time, whether you're forgiving yourself or someone else, and ekko and powder's relationship being as comfortable and easy as it is in s2ep7 speaks to the fact that they had a long stretch of time to get to that space where they could move past the circumstances that led to vi's death. at least, they both do until original timeline ekko drops in and reopens that wound, which in turn leads powder to throw blame back in his face, similarly to how i assume she must have done directly following vi's passing.

the idea that powder and ekko in this alternate timeline had to move past anger, grief, guilt, and blame makes their relationship feel more heartfelt than if they were locked in since day one and there was no more work to be done. love as something that has to be earned and worked for even in a world where things seem mostly ideal shows that it wasn't just a fluke that they got together but a deliberate continuous choice to work through trauma to allow themselves to be together.

it also legitimizes the idea that original timeline ekko and jinx could hypothetically be together as well. not just because we see "oh, one version of powder and ekko can get together so this one can, too" but because both versions have baggage to work past before getting together, but the universe we see displays how this pair managed that with the luxury of a support system and a kinder environment that original timeline ekko and jinx unfortunately weren't afforded.

i think this also makes their team-up in s2ep9 more heartfelt because we can see ekko move past blame when he comes back for jinx to help in the fight, similarly to how i assume ekko in the alternate timeline had to work through his own to eventually get together with powder. both relationships hinge on the fact that they have to put effort in to get comfortable with each other following the consequences of the job that ekko sent them on rather than letting the alternate universe relationship ultimately act as a fluke that can't be replicated because of how drastically different that world is.

[physalian]

Pacing your Story (Or, How to Avoid the "Suddenly...!")

Arguably *the* most important lesson all writers need to learn, even for those who don’t give a damn about themes and motifs and a moral soap box: How your story is paced, whether it’s a comic book, a children’s chapter book, a doorstopper, a mini series, a movie, or a full-length season of TV (old school style), pacing is everything.

Pacing determines how long the story *feels* regardless of how long it actually is. It can make a 2 hour movie feel like 90 mins or double the time you’re trapped in your seat.

There’s very little I can say about pacing that hasn’t been said before, but I’m here to condense all that’s out there into a less intimidating mouthful to chew.

So: What is pacing?

Pacing is how a story flows, how quickly or slowly the creator moves through and between scenes, how long they spend on setting, narration, conversation, arguments, internal monologues, fight scenes, journey scenes. It’s also how smoothly tone transitions throughout the story. A fantasy adventure jumping around sporadically between meandering boredom, high-octane combat, humor, grief, and romance is exhausting to read, no matter how much effort you put into your characters.

Anyone who says the following is wrong:

Good pacing is always fast/bad pacing is always slow

Pacing means you are 100% consistent throughout the entire story

It doesn’t matter as much so long as you have a compelling story/characters/lore/etc

Now let me explain why in conveniently numbered points:

1. Pacing is not about consistency, it’s about giving the right amount of time to the right pieces of your story

This is not intuitive and it takes a long time to learn. So let’s look at some examples:

Lord of the Rings: The movies trimmed a *lot* from the books that just weren’t adaptable to screen, namely all the tedious details and quite a bit of the worldbuilding that wasn’t critical to the journey of the Fellowship. That said, with some exceptions, the battles are as long as they need to be, along with every monologue, every battle speech. When Helm’s Deep is raging on, we cut away to Merry and Pippin with the Ents to let ourselves breathe, then dive right back in just before it gets boring.

The Hobbit Trilogy: The exact opposite from LotR, stretching one kids book into 3 massive films, stuffing it full of filler, meandering side quests, pointless exposition, drawing out battles and conflicts to silly extremes, then rushing through the actual desolation of Smaug for… some reason.

Die Hard (cause it’s the Holidays y’all!): The actiony-est of action movies with lots of fisticuffs and guns and explosions still leaves time for our hero to breathe, lick his wounds, and build a relationship with the cop on the ground. We constantly cut between the hero and the villains, all sharing the same radio frequency, constantly antsy about what they know and when they’ll find out the rest, and when they’ll discover the hero’s kryptonite.

2. Make every scene you write do at least two things at once

This is also tricky. Making every scene pull double duty should be left to after you’ve written the first draft, otherwise you’ll never write that first draft. Pulling double duty means that if you’re giving exposition, the scene should also reveal something about the character saying it. If you absolutely must write the boring trip from A to B, give some foreshadowing, some thoughtful insight from one of your characters, a little anecdote along the way.

Develop at least two of the following:

The plot

The backstory

The romance/friendships

The lore

The exposition

The setting

The goals of the cast

Doing this extremely well means your readers won’t have any idea you’re doing it until they go back and read it again. If you have two characters sitting and talking exposition at a table, and then those same two characters doing some important task with filler dialogue to break up the narrative… try combining those two scenes and see what happens.

**This is going to be incredibly difficult if you struggle with making your stories longer. I do not. I constantly need to compress my stories. **

3. Not every scene needs to be crucial to the plot, but every scene must say something

I distinguish plot from story like a square vs a rectangle. Plot is just a piece of the tale you want to tell, and some scenes exist just to be funny, or romantic, or mysterious, plot be damned.

What if you’re writing a character study with very little plot? How do you make sure your story isn’t too slow if 60% of the narrative is introspection?

Avoid repeating information the audience already has, unless a reminder is crucial to understanding the scene

This isn’t 1860 anymore. Every detail must serve a purpose. Keep character and setting descriptions down to absolute need-to-know and spread it out like icing on a cake – enough to coat, but not give you a mouthful of whipped sugar and zero cake.

Avoid describing generic daily routines, unless the existence of said routine is out of ordinary for the character, or will be rudely interrupted by chaos. No one cares about them brushing their teeth and doing their hair.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much. E.g. two characters sitting and talking – do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them gesture, wave, frown, laugh, cross their legs, their arms, shift around to get comfortable, pound the table, roll their eyes, point, shrug, touch their face, their hair, wring their hands, pick at their nails, yawn, stretch, pout, sneer, smirk, click their tongue, clear their throat, sniff/sniffle, tap their fingers/drum, bounce their feet, doodle, fiddle with buttons or jewelry, scratch an itch, touch their weapons/gadgets/phones, check the time, get up and sit back down, move from chair to table top – the list goes on. Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t – what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

4. Your entire work should not be paced exactly the same

Just like a paragraph should not be filled with sentences of all the same length and syntax. Some beats deserve more or less time than others. Unfortunately, this is unique to every single story and there is no one size fits all.

General guidelines are as follows:

Action scenes should have short paragraphs and lots of movement. Cut all setting details and descriptors, internal monologues, and the like, unless they service the scene.

Journey/travel scenes must pull double or even triple duty. There’s a reason very few movies are marketed as “single take” and those that are don’t waste time on stuff that doesn’t matter. See 1917.

Romantic scenes are entirely up to you. Make it a thousand words, make it ten thousand, but you must advance either the romantic tension, actual movement of the characters, conversation, or intimacy of the relationship.

Don’t let your conversations run wild. If they start to veer off course, stop, boil it down to its essentials, and cut the rest.

When transitioning between slow to faster pacing and back again, it’s also not one size fits all. Maybe it being jarring is the point – it’s as sudden for the characters as it is for the reader. With that said, try to keep the “suddenly”s to a minimum.

5. Pacing and tone go hand in hand

This means that, generally speaking, the tone of your scene changes with the speed of the narrative. As stated above, a jarring tonal shift usually brings with it a jarring pacing shift.

A character might get in a car crash while speeding away from an abusive relationship. A character who thinks they’re safe from a pursuer might be rudely and terrifyingly proven wrong. An exhausting chase might finally relent when sanctuary is found. A quiet dinner might quickly turn romantic with a look, or confession. Someone casually cleaning up might discover evidence of a lie, a theft, an intruder and begin to panic.

--

Whatever the case may be, a narrative that is all action all the time suffers from lack of meaningful character moments. A narrative that meanders through the character drama often forgets there is a plot they’re supposed to be following.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[tempobaekh]

Short N’ Sweet

pairings: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, suggestive, allusions to sex at the end and a tiny mention of sexual acts?? readers physical appearance is not mentioned

a/n: i am going absolutely feral for this man, like foaming at the mouth feral, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure kind of feral. and i also love sabrina and because of Halloween i got this idea, this might be a little late since yknow Halloween is over but i just got this idea so we can ignore that:) also i wanna thank my biggest fav frank writer @agirlcandream84 for inspiring me to write this. i absolutely love her work and the way she writes frank please go read some of her work. okay enough yapping from me

Halloween night was finally here, and you could barely contain your excitement. The costume you’d been planning had been kept under wraps—literally—and you’d teased Frank endlessly about it, keeping him guessing for weeks, knowing full well the look on his face would be priceless.

Ever since you’d seen Sabrina Carpenter's iconic outfits from her Short N’ Sweet tour, the idea had taken root. Glitz, glam, a bit of sparkle, and a lot of confidence—that was going to be your vibe tonight. And you knew it would knock Frank’s socks off.

Or maybe more like knock his pants off.

Frank, being Frank, wasn’t exactly putting in the same level of effort. He’d gone with his usual all-black getup: a black shirt that fit him just right, dark pants, combat boots, and his well-worn jacket. Not much of a costume, but with his gruff demeanor and dark eyes, he still looked intense and dangerously handsome.

You’d teased him about needing a 'proper' Halloween costume, but he’d only smirked, knowing you’d be the one to steal the show. Still, he was eager to see you; he’d been waiting all week, and you could feel the thrill of his anticipation even through the closed door.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he called out.

With one last deep breath, you slipped on a towel and cinched it tight around your chest, and stepped out of the bathroom, strutting a little as your heels clicked on the hardwood as you made your way toward him

He looked up when he heard you approaching, his gaze immediately sharpening with curiosity. You watched as his eyes narrowed slightly, scanning you up and down in curiosity. "You gonna tell me what the costume is, sweetheart?” he asked, a little smirk creeping onto his lips.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you took a step closer, letting him get a little look at your carefully styled hair and the faint sparkle of the makeup you’d applied.

“Mm, you could say that,” you teased, giving him a wink. “But the real costume’s under here. Want to see?”

“Hell yes, I do,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, lips twitching in that half-smile of his that always drove you wild. “C’mon, darlin’—let me see it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took a step back, giving him a grin, and with a flourish, you unwrapped the towel and tossed it aside, holding out your arms as you posed.

Frank’s reaction was immediate. His jaw went slack, his dark eyes going wide as he took you in. His gaze roamed up and down, lingering on every detail—from your heels up your bare legs, taking in the glittering, skin-colored tights that shimmered like liquid gold. He lingered on the lacy, sparkling red bodysuit that hugged every curve perfectly, bedazzled in red crystals that caught the light with each tiny shift and gave you an ethereal, almost unreal glow. The garters—lacy, sparkling, and just suggestive enough to make his jaw clench—added an extra edge to the look.

When he finally found his voice, he only managed a rough, “Damn, sweetheart.”

Laughing, you spun around, tossing the towel aside and letting him see the details you’d added just for him. He took in the bedazzled kiss mark on the top of your right inner thigh, positioned right where he always planted kisses with his face and tongue buried between your legs as you writhe and moan with pleasure under him. And when you turned around, you knew he’d see the second kiss mark on your left shoulder blade—another favorite spot of his when he has you on your hands and knees and thrusting into you from behind.

You felt the air between you shift, and a shiver ran down your spine at the brief image in your head.

“You like it?” you asked, turning around and looking at him, enjoying the way his eyes roamed over you, taking in every last detail.

Frank’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he closed the distance between you, his large hands resting on your hips before he traced one finger down to that kiss mark on your thigh.

"Sweetheart…" he murmured, sounding almost reverent. “You look…”

"Too much?" You asked, feigning a worried tone, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

"Too much? No… no, darlin’, it's perfect," he said, reaching out to gently run a hand along your arm, his fingers grazing the crystals. His voice was low, roughened with restrained desire as he brushed his thumb over the spot. “Did you put this here just for me?”

You smiled, heart racing. “Maybe. Figured it might be a nice little reminder for you.”

His fingers skimmed up to your waist, tugging you closer, his hands warm and possessive. “Can’t lie… I’m definitely thinkin’ about ditchin’ Josie’s altogether tonight.”

“But it’s Halloween,” you teased, giving him a look that only seemed to make him hungrier. “We can’t just skip it, Frankie. Besides, I want to show off a little.”

“You’re killin’ me here,” he muttered, his voice dropping as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your neck. His fingers flexed against your waist. “Whole place is gonna be starin’ at you. Don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you, darlin’.”

You laughed softly. "Guess you'll have to try, Castle."

He let out a low groan, and you felt his hands slide lower to your behind. "Yeah, easy for you to say when you’re wearin’… this." His eyes dipped down to the kiss mark on your thigh, a possessive gleam in his gaze as pulle away and traced the outline with his thumb again. "This here… You’re just tryin’ to drive me insane, aren’t ya?"

You shrugged, an innocent smile on your face. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you something to look forward to, and besides, you're the only one who gets to take it off me.”

That got his attention. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You keep talkin’ like that, and we’re not makin’ it to Josie’s tonight, baby. But we’re not stayin’ long. Got… plans for when we get back.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin across your face. "Come on, big guy. Try to survive the night without dragging me home too early."

When you arrived at Josie’s to meet up with Karen and her friends from her law firm, you caught more than a few looks. Heads turned, eyes lingered, and you could feel Frank tense beside you, his arm protectively draped around your waist as he pulled you in close.

Every now and then, he’d lean down to murmur, “You know, you’re lucky I’m keepin’ it together.”

“Oh, I know,” you replied each time with a wink, enjoying every bit of his attention.

As the night went on, Frank’s hands couldn’t seem to leave you alone, not that you minded. They’d drift to the small of your back, settle on your hip, or tug you closer to him. It wasn’t possessive so much as it was protective—he just wanted you to himself and wasn’t shy about it.

The night was fun, filled with drinks, laughs, and compliments from Karen and Marci who appreciated the sheer effort you’d put into your costume. But the real thrill was feeling Frank’s hand skimming along your waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your tights met your bodysuit. Every time he leaned down to murmur something downright filthy in your ear, you could feel the low, restrained fire in his voice that would make your thighs clench.

Finally, as midnight approached, Frank leaned in close, voice low and warm against your ear. "Alright, darlin’. I think we’ve done our part here. Time to go home."

You couldn’t help but smile as you glanced up at him. "Couldn’t wait to get me alone, huh?"

"Not one bit," he admitted, his fingers lacing through yours as he led you out of Josie’s and into the cool night air.

The drive back home felt like a blur, and as soon as you got home, his hands were on you the second you closed the door. He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

Frank’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands roaming your back with an almost desperate energy. His touch was firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of you. The smooth leather of his jacket pressed cool against your bare arms as he pulled you flush against him, his strength and warmth radiating through the layers between you.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and thick with want. His hand drifted to your thigh, his fingers brushing over the kiss mark there, and he let out a soft, possessive growl. “This right here? This ain’t fair.”

You smiled against his mouth, your breath hitching as his fingers teased along the edge of your garter. "I thought you liked it," you teased, your voice a little breathless.

"Like it?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes blazing as they swept over you. "I can’t think straight, darlin’. All night, all I’ve been thinkin’ about is gettin’ you alone."

His hands slipped to your hips, gripping just firmly enough to remind you of his strength as he guided you back toward the couch. You let out a soft laugh, but it caught in your throat when he leaned down, trailing kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. He paused just at the hollow of your throat, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Frankie…” you whimpered, your hands tangling in his hair as his lips continued their path, brushing over the crystals adorning your shoulder blade.

He hummed against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, wearin’ this,” he said, his tone somewhere between a grumble and a purr. His fingers toyed with the edge of the bodysuit, skimming over the the crystals adorning the fabric. “You’re lucky I got any patience left.”

"Maybe I don’t want you to be patient," you replied, your voice soft but laced with mischief as you tugged him back to meet your lips.

Frank chuckled darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "Careful what you ask for, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. The way he said it, low and promising, sent a thrill straight through you.

And with that, he captured your lips again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was setting the stage for something as bold and electric as the confidence you wore tonight.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[bloodibambiidoll]

The copying in the Outer Banks fandom has gotten completely out of hand. I am not only speaking for myself, but for people who I’ve also witnessed this happening to. It seems that some of you have the mentality of “oh! Well this has probably been done before in fanfiction so it’s not copying because they didn’t invent it!” But if you see someone’s post, and take inspiration from it IN ANY WAY, you need to credit them for it.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a moodboard of a fic they haven’t posted yet. Or just a simple thought they put out into the universe. Even if you use someone’s gif they took the time to make and share, there needs to be credit. I think the over abundance of !Readers has made a lot of regurgitation happening between blogs in this fandom. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t write them, but they’re all the same. Spice it up. And when there is something new? I see it ripped off over and over again until it’s like a telephone game and the original poster is lost in the wind.

It fucking HURTS to put your time, creativity, energy, and care into something and then see someone else take your idea, not even make it their own, and then proceed to give you zero credit for it. Taking inspiration from people is a fundamental human reaction that every person does. But it doesn’t matter if it was malicious. It still hurts just the same. I have posted moodboards teasing my AUs and have had people take that idea and write it before I can ever even post my fic. It fucking sucks. It’s discouraging. And it’s just fucking rude and inconsiderate as hell.

On top of that, it’s fucking boring. Why would you want to march to the beat of every other person in this fandoms drum? Fanfiction is about being whoever the fuck you want, writing whatever the fuck you want, but it seems like people care more about notes and what others think than the actual content they’re putting out. This fandom needs to be less about the aesthetics and more about the content. I’m tired of reading the same thing over and over again. I’m tired of the 500-1k blurbs that throw me right into the smut with no plot or backstory.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a little smut blurb down, but when it’s all you see? It’s gets old. But that being said, the lack of support on longer fics, smut, and angst, is extremely discouraging to writers and it causes us to not want to take the time and effort to write those longer things because while notes aren’t everything, feeling unappreciated in any capacity is shitty. It’s a byproduct of itself.

We need to be more courteous of others. There needs to credit given when inspiration is taken from others. There needs to be less worry about what other people like, what other people will think and more focus on the creativity and the fun of fanfiction. Something needs to change because I have been seeing this almost daily. I have had friends and mutuals coming to me for these exact feelings I’m feeling and it’s discouraging and exhausting to see. There’s also this fear around calling people out for stealing because whenever someone does, hell rains down on them. It’s not cute. People should be allowed to defend their creativity on their own blog.

And they wouldn’t have to. If everyone just started giving credit where credit is due.

[bunnis-monsters]

I remember venting about being upset that the fanfic series I put a lot of time and effort into wasn’t doing well on my anime account. It was pretty popular in the fandom, and everyone requested that I bring it back and continue it, so I did.

After posting it, something people had been pestering me and begging me for, it preformed terribly, which really killed my motivation. I posted a short vent, upset that it didn’t do well like my other posts did.

Do you know what the response to my vent was? People sent me asks saying I was being dramatic and ungrateful, that if I just kept posting the series and didn’t stop that it would still be popular.

I had taken a break from that series for mental health reasons(I was receiving death threats and being harassed) when before I had been pumping out chapters nearly weekly. Still, all that content, over 100k+ words of material wasn’t enough to keep them interested. They always wanted more, the threat of people leaving or unfollowing me if I didn’t post faster looming over my head like a dark cloud.

Writing became a chore. I didn’t view my readers as friends and comrades in my fandom, I viewed them as people that would leave the second I didn’t live up to their strict expectations.

This is all to say that I want you, the readers, to think about the author behind the works you read and love. Think about WHY you think it’s feasible for a person to be uploading every single week without a break. Why do you lose interest if an author isn’t working themselves to the bone to pump out chapters that could have been so much better if given the time to really flesh them out?

Be kinder to writers, be patient. We aren’t machines, and it takes time for us to make the content you want to see. Don’t rush us, and be grateful for all the free content you get to see with just a click or tap.

Don’t be the reason an author decides to give up writing.

[givehimthemedicine]

time for my big lumax rantpost. I used to be way more of a shipper but upon reexamining some of my GA-era assumptions, I'm here to tell you why it sucks, and why I don't look forward to lumax endgame if it's the same lumax we've been getting.

lumax has fantastic potential, but needs lots of work to actually become the ship most of the fandom thinks it is.

I get the sense most on here consider lumax ST's darling perfect ship which is sullied by weak and/or racist writing. while I wouldn't argue at all that the writing does right by Lucas, I do think it's important to recognize lumax as an intentionally-written badly flawed relationship, NOT a poorly-written perfect relationship. (the writing for 5 has a lot to prove so we'll see)

lumax is obviously happening. no ending to Lucas's story makes sense other than him getting the girl. however, I don't like that from either character's standpoint.

from hers - Max is not a prize. and from his - Max is no prize.

Max is a pretty shitty girlfriend.

we've never seen her show Lucas any interest in learning anything about him. I can't remember a time she's complimented him, said anything nice about him, or done anything purely for his benefit. virtually all of their serious conversations have been about her, and the scant few that are sort of about him are inevitably just a lead-in to him offering support to her.

Lucas and Max's relationship - pre, during, and post dating - is 100% about what he can do for her. he's the one making 100% of the effort.

it seems like most of their interactions are him walking on eggshells trying to placate, reassure, or convince her, all for the reward of.... what. being allowed to continue existing near her? like yeah, she's a cool girl, but. that can't be it.

what good is getting the girl if the girl doesn't really offer anything?

. . .

through the seasons, semiquickly:

season 2

Lucas and Dustin both like Max, so they invite her trick or treating, offering to protect her from bullies and show her where the good candy is. in other words, the first Max / Lucas interaction is him offering something to benefit her. Max returns no appreciation or even response to the invite, yet still shows up to reap the benefits.

that pretty much sets the tone.

Max wants to be included, but that's a sensitive subject, so she puts on aloof airs to protect herself. it's an act, but nonetheless it's all Lucas receives.

the facade slips on multiple occasions though; Lucas is permitted to see her vulnerability, and we can see she's actually more desperate to make the connection than he is.

Dustin seeks Steve's manipulation tactics to use on Max, but Lucas wins her over by treating her like an equal and offering her genuine friendship.

he risks both his place in the party and his safety/life to include her, gives his undivided attention when she talks to him, asks questions that show his interest and concern, he reassures, uplifts and compliments her, and physically protects her.

in return, Max. uhh. well she does apologize for being a jerk, although she doesn't exactly stop, lmao. this is one of only two moments I can think of when Max reveals any regard for what Lucas thinks of her.

lumax is off-balance before it even starts, although s2 is when I think that dynamic is most permissible. since Max is a newcomer, Lucas has the advantage in many respects, and it makes sense for him to be the one extending a hand to her.

when Billy attacks Lucas for hanging out with Max, he could be gravely hurt if not for Steve taking the beating instead. Max joins in the momentary group hug but never says a word about this. (I suspect the writers mean for Max's bus apology to have proactively served as a veiled "sorry my stepbro is racist" but more felt needed in that moment.)

then they go to the dance and she kisses him and it's cute and everything is happy for ten whole seconds.

between 2 and 3

even though the summer of '85 is "the good days," this relationship is already careening downhill.

we learn that Max has dumped Lucas five times - such a regular occurrence that he takes it in stride and is well practiced at winning her back as a result.

unfortunately it's Lucas taking to heart the "happy wife happy life" policy from his dad that's set up lumax as something that seems to serve only Max. her awareness of the policy means she holds all the cards.

season 3

Max has secured her place in the party and the relationship, and now it's time for her to bring something to the table, but I honestly can't name one thing. it's still Lucas bending over backwards and Max sometimes being a bit of a jerk. (another act. we'll come back to this)

from the start of 3 we see an excessively secure Max and an obsequious Lucas. she doesn't show him any of the vulnerability that made her endearing in 2. they share fun moments, but we can infer that she doesn't treat him very well in ways that matter.

at one point she even plays mad just to watch him panic. you get the feeling this boy can never feel secure in his relationship. yeah she's just teasing, but do you think Lucas is allowed to tease too?

when El comes to Max for advice, she tells her that "boyfriends lie all the time" and this is before we see Lucas lie to her.

when Mike comes to Lucas for advice, he confidently schools him on how to get back in El's good graces by buying her a present - making clear he's been following his dad's advice all summer long and it's been working:

L: Dad? When Mom's mad at you, how do you make her not mad? C: First, I apologize. Then, I get your mother whatever she wants. L: Even when she's wrong? C: She's never wrong, son.

the mall confrontation is the first time we see Lucas really lie to Max, but even then, the girls don't actually have proof Nana isn't sick.

it's telling, actually, that Lucas's loyalty goes to Mike instead of Max in this moment. in s2 it was the other way around (Lucas pissed off the whole party by including her in the group and telling her the truth - a technically banishable offense). but now he's back to his s1 bros before hoes policy, and not only backs up but expands on Mike's lie. after dating almost a year, his loyalty to Max should be even stronger, but here we see the opposite. if Max had been at least as good a friend to him as Mike, I'm inclined to think he would at least have tried to be noncommittal here.

Max is so confident Lucas will have nothing on his mind but winning her back, as always - meanwhile who we actually see Lucas apologizing to is Will.

she may have had Lucas wrapped around her little finger all summer, but we're seeing that start to uncoil. if Lucas apologizes, it's offscreen.

when Billy tries to break out of the sauna to kill Max, Lucas slingshots him and body shields Max during the fight. next thing you know, Max is back to being cliquey with El in the bathroom (making fun of Mike even though he was the only one who did anything to save El's life?? girl you're being shitty to boyfriends that aren't even yours)

they seem to be a couple again by the end of 3, but the relationship is weakened...

between 3 and 4

..which sets the scene for how the two apparently drift when Max ends it once again. she's not playing this time - she uses the term "break up" instead of "dump" and Lucas has accepted that it's over.

depression makes it hard for Max to connect with him, but the way she treated him in 3 has likely also eaten away at his insistence on prioritizing her. if you push someone away over and over you can't be too surprised if they stay further away each time.

so Max withdraws socially and Lucas apparently doesn't go to his usual lengths to pursue her.

he's still making effort though! the "stalking" comment makes it clear he's been trying to approach her. we know he's been inviting her to his basketball games. him already knowing her favorite song as of 4x4 is more evidence of him taking an interest in her between seasons.

he clearly still cares a lot about Max, but good for him for pursuing his own hobbies and friendships as well.

season 4

Lucas finally asks Max to do something to support him for once (come to his game), but she shuts it down hard.

we know Max still cares about him, but that's just it - WE know. he doesn't. to his face, it's bristling rejection even while he literally begs for the chance to support her.

saving Max's life is a group effort, but Lucas knowing her favorite song is the key that saves her life, and it's only after that that she's friendly towards him again.

the only time I can recall Max expressing any concern for Lucas's wellbeing is when she asks if he's okay in 4x6 - and he only gets a few sentences to process Patrick's death before it's time for him to turn it into an apology to her. sigh.

Lucas is the only one of Max's friends to voice any objection to her suicide mission of a Vecna plan, and pitches for them to gamble a stranger's life instead. he once again risks his life to hang out in the Creel house with Max, personally taking on the huge responsibility of making sure she doesn't die.

Vol 2 Max finally shows Lucas some long-awaited appreciation ("you might have been there" and "I'm glad you're here") which is very nice to see.

I'm conflicted about the movie invite scene, but we'll talk about that later. textually: he asks her out, she accepts, it's totes adorbs.

unfortunately, Max being tranced out by the time Jason walks in means it's time for Lucas once again to get attacked by an older, stronger guy who's wrongly convinced he's a danger to her. (again not her fault, but kinda because of her)

everything goes sideways, Max gets Vecna'd, and Lucas holds her while she dies. we end on a bruised Lucas sitting loyally at Max's bedside, reading to her just in case she can hear it inside her coma.

Lucas hasn't been perfect but he has spent yet another season physically protecting and emotionally supporting Max at great personal expense, and with little appreciation and no support in return.

. . .

the movie doodle didn't fix lumax

Max has had an epiphany, but a change of behavior has scarcely begun. being nice isn't the same as making amends. they've resolved zero of the old issues, plus 4 (even if the plan had worked) has heaped a ton of new shit on both of them.

she's still a grieving, neglected, depressed and passively suicidal child of a triply-broken home. dating doesn't fix that. they already broke up once under the same conditions.

plus Max has new catastrophic emotional traumas, some of which which explicitly exacerbate those very issues. she has catastrophic injuries and disability to cope with (and this is a girl who withdraws under stress normally). with a shred of realism, she's waking up in less a mood for dating than ever.

Lucas has also taken on new traumas, between the basketball team stuff, getting beaten up and almost shot/strangled, and watching Max get Vecna'd and die. he already has a history of guilt about not being there for her enough, so he's going to have a lot more about failing her in that moment (definitely not his fault but he'll still feel bad) and will likely be even more focused on her.

to me, this all sounds like a recipe for the same old dynamic except worse than ever. if they get sleeping beauty'd directly back into lumax, it'll be a disservice to both characters.

. . .

now let's talk about why Max treats Lucas the way she does 🔬

she's not a conniving bitch, she's just a scared kid from a toxic home. that doesn't excuse her behavior but it does make it understandable.

Max CAN be a great friend. she's just not to Lucas.

Max absolutely showers El with the good qualities she'll barely show Lucas. in fact I could loosely say Max is to El what Lucas is to Max.

Max is suspicious and disparaging towards Lucas, even while trusting that he can be counted upon to grovel. meanwhile El never apologizes for intentionally hurting Max both physically and emotionally, yet the moment El acknowledges her (only because she wants help), Max is instantly forgiving, kind, gentle, caring, generous and supportive towards her.

she throws her loyalty behind a friend of 1 afternoon over her boyfriend of a year who's been the only person in Hawkins to show her any true kindness and emotional connection.

if Max was half the friend to Lucas that she is to El, she'd be a decent girlfriend. why isn't she?

we can name a few reasons why Max IS so nice to El, but why she ISN'T to Lucas is a separate question. kindness isn't zero-sum.

she told us why. boyfriends lie.

and it's ANY boyfriend, not just hers. Nana's sick? more like Mike's a lying piece of shit! Suzie from camp? fake! Dustin's obviously lying! the only one of the boys Max has never accused of lying is Will - the only one who's been single the whole time.

just. the state of being a boyfriend (or even just liking a girl is close enough), makes any boy automatically a liar.

Max believes "friend" and "boyfriend" are mutually exclusive

"Friends don't lie!" "Yeah, well, boyfriends lie all the time." <- it's all right there.

back in 2 when Lucas was her friend, she was more open and trusting. she gave him the benefit of the doubt that monsters were real and he knew a girl with magic powers. starting to date flipped the switch, and now she doesn't trust him about mundane stuff.

now they're not friends, they're boyfriend/girlfriend, and she expects to be treated in a whole different way, including all the baggage that comes with romantic relationships in her mind.

what baggage?

Max's childhood is full of examples of awful, manipulative men and abusive, broken relationships.

her dad: I'd only be speculating about why her parents' marriage failed, but in 2 Max misses California because her dad is still there, then by 4 acts like it's doubtful he can even be tracked down for delivery of what's basically her suicide letter. it's clear she desired a relationship with her dad but was abandoned. Neil: abusive asshole who rules the household with an iron fist. I'd be shocked if he hasn't abused Susan, and see little reason he wouldn't do it in front of Max (after all, we see him verbally and physically abuse his first wife in front of his son, in a bad fight over suspected lies/infidelity). in his grief over Billy, Neil and Susan have "bad fights" and he leaves the family. he's not missed, but it's still a second abandonment by a father figure. Billy: Max's peer example of guys in relationships: a sleazy, two-faced asshole who treats girls like trash and completely changes his persona to manipulate them for sex or whatever else he wants (Max appears to be all too aware of his sex life and is disgusted). abandonment issues with him too: a good relationship with a big brother would've meant the world to her, but he rejected and probably abused her for years; her letter at his grave reads "ever since you left" - same word she used for Neil.

Max desperately hopes Lucas is an exception to the rule, but these are the behaviors she would naturally fear from any guy she dates.

Max is especially terrified of being abandoned (and that she deserves it)

to be abandoned over and over can naturally leave a kid wondering if it's their fault, if this is the treatment they deserve.

Lucas is overall quite honest, and there's not an abusive bone in his body. the most realistic one of Max's fears to apply to him is that someday he'll leave her, too.

and that's the worst fear Vecna chooses to voice in Lucas's form: realizing he's been wrong about her, that she's fundamentally bad and he's glad she's going to be killed. a gutting abandonment from the guy she most wants to trust.

Vecna-Susan also tells Max that she deserves what's going to happen to her, that she's "broken everything" and that her letters can't make things right. because he's in full Vecna mode when he says it, I just took those as very general condemnations at first. but they hurt even worse when I remember they're still coming from "Susan" - revealing that Max feels she has broken her family.

she wanted Billy to die, and she figures Neil left because Billy died, so that's two of the abandonments being "her fault". if that's true, Max would also feel responsible for destroying her mom's life - having cost her her marriage, home, and financial security.

in her addictions Susans has, in an emotional sense, abandoned Max just like all her other family members - and Max fears she deserves it. how desperate she was for this hug... :(

anyway, back to lumax: let's reexamine those s3 dumpings

what exactly did Lucas even do? we never find out.

on first watch, I took "boyfriends lie" at face value and assumed Lucas got caught fibbing. but that doesn't fit so well.

he's maybe the party member most invested in "friends don't lie". honesty to his friends is a pillar of his character. again, he caused friction in 2 because he so strongly prioritized honesty to Max. to assume based on one line from an unreliable narrator that he randomly became a huge liar over the summer is unfair.

via their counseling of Mike and El, Lucas and Max tell us what's been going on with lumax

Max tells El:

He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness. I guarantee him and Lucas are totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now like "ohh, I hope they take us back!"

I think we all clocked that one: Max thinks that because El followed her technique, Mike will come crawling back - because Lucas has come crawling back to her several times now.

but I haven't seen much discussion about how the spying scene (which "he'll come crawling back" is paired with) shows Lucas assuring Mike that he's been dumped for an unfair and illogical reason because that's what Max has done to him several times now.

M: I just don't understand what I did to deserve this. L: Nothing. Nothing. That's my whole point. You are the victim here. Stop asking rational questions. M: I know, I know, you're right. Because women act on emotion and not logic. L: Precisely. It's a totally different species.

Max is pissed. but has she been irrational, acting on emotion and not logic, and dumping him for no apparent reason all summer? signs point to yes.

and I understand Lucas saying this. it's not pure misogyny out of nowhere; he's been told that his mother expects gifts and apologies even when wrong, Max acts that way too, and now so apparently does El. all of his examples concur that this is just how women in relationships are. (Charles Sinclair how many relationships will your advice destroy lmao)

both Max and Lucas are bringing preconceptions from home.

Max acts this way on purpose

I don't think she's dumped him over truly nothing (although that's how it looks to him). I'm thinking she blows real, minor missteps out of proportion.

any time Lucas does something slightly insensitive, it looks like the first red flag to her, and instead of communicating in a constructive way, she just throws up this "boys aint shit" force field and dumps him. of course she doesn't truly want to be rid of him, she's just sorta snapping the leash.

I think Max knows what she's doing. I think she wants to keep Lucas always on his back foot, because the relationship isn't as scary if she feels like she holds all the power.

she's always trying to cover up fear/sorrow with anger, because anger gives an illusion of control. and she's been conscious of that anger, and the fact that it's unfair to Lucas, since the beginning - that's what she apologized for on the bus. "I guess I'm angry too, and I'm sorry."

she was mature enough at 13 to see the error in her behavior, but still not mature enough by 15 to fix it. every season has just been a slightly different flavor of "leave before you get left".

so, that's my take on Max's relationship behavior. but again, explanations aren't excuses. Lucas deserves to be treated well, and that's not happening.

what needs to happen?

simply maturing more will help them both a lot. being 15 is a terrible condition in of itself.

I don't see Lucas dumping Max's ass, but she should take her own advice before the relationship continues: explain herself and fix the garbage parts of her behavior.

before Max can be the girlfriend Lucas deserves, she needs a substantial period of physical and emotional healing.

she needs renewed connections with her friends and family, and a lot of general growth in the area of communication and processing her feelings.

in regards to Lucas, she needs to work on her trust issues, and learn to extend him the treatment warranted by his behavior, not the behavior she fears from others. she needs to learn that "friend" and "girlfriend" aren't mutually exclusive, that real friendship is the key to their relationship, and is a two-way street.

any Billy racism/assault acknowledgement would be better years late than never, especially if grieving Billy continues to be a focus in front of Lucas.

Lucas could also use a little work

the relentless positivity doesn't serve Max well. often it turns out to be empty reassurances which make her feel let down (so, a soft version of the lies she fears). she let him know in 4x4 that this hurts her, but he kept doing it for the rest of the season.

but the big one is that "happy wife happy life" doesn't serve him well, and rewarding unfair treatment perpetuates the problem. yes, the ability to compromise, swallow pride, and be the bigger person are healthy parts of a relationship, as well as the willingness to extend grace to your partner/friend when they're struggling. but it always being on one designated person is a recipe for dissatisfaction and resentment.

Lucas should voice to Max that he, too, has struggles and needs support. I'd like to see him pursue outside interests unapologetically.

no, this isn't an exhaustive list, and I don't expect to see everything fixed at once, or explicitly processed onscreen. but I sure hope we get some evidence of change, and that this has all been part of an arc.

for instance, I'd love for the final lumax reconciliation to be Max asking Lucas to take her back.

I kind of hope not to see them officially together until the very end. in fact I'd so much rather see ST end on a good Max / Lucas friendship with an implied romantic future than jump back to the status quo.

l don't want to see lumax until it's a new lumax, based on real, reciprocal friendship.

[wintershub]

With 2025 around the corner I'm going to make a much needed message.

NO ONE EXPECTS PERFECTION FROM YOU

And more importantly

NO ONE SHOULD EXPECT PERFECTION FROM YOU

Typos? Fine. Taking a long time to reply? Fine. Sporadic activity? Fine. Lack of aesthetics? Fine. Iconless? Fine. Literally do what ever the fuck you want, this is tumblr roleplay anyone that expects professional level shakesspear writing 24/7 or even amazing out of this world writing to begin with IS STUPID

Sure a lot of us put a lot of effort into our writing, blog aesthetics, art, and headcanons but that's because this a hobby we all feel very passionate about. We do it for the sake of it, we should only do it for the sake of it, this is not a boring office job where we HAVE to make certain quotas, where we do this because we literally need money to function as an adult, this is a creative field we all enjoy and should be having fun in

If someone comes over demanding perfect grammar, instant replies no matter what time of day or year it is, graphics 99% of ppl don't have the skill for, or what the fuck ever they can pay me and provide me with fucking life insurance, I have a real boss I get enough of I don't need another one. If people are going to make demands they are not good rp partners, cause I'll say it right now.

I value a mutuals mental health and well being far more than any silly rp thread

Need a 1000x years to type up a response? Go for it. Wanna drop a thread altogether? Fine. Wanna restart all our muses relationship? Perfectly fine. Wanna go low effort with no icons or fancy aesthetic shit? DO IT. Wanna make a bunch of headcanon posts and not rp? Love it you're doing great sweetie. Wanna just have your muse be silly and with no serious overarching plot? By all means have fun

Forcing my mutuals to pump out endless content like their Disney writers who don't get work break is not only not cool, but stupid. Especially when they'll be better writers and partners over all if they are given time to breath, relax and simply vibe. If I wanted mindless slop with no heart put into it I'd go chat up an AI bot or something

You do not need to be perfect, no one needs to be held to such an impossible standard. Especially when it comes to something as diverse as simply writing. You're doing great. Do what you need, but more importantly just do what you want. Do not cater to anyone.

[thesweetestsupervillains]

Avoid The Roleplayer Yips!

So here's something that I've dealt with, and talking with friends, they've dealt with, and from what it seems like, it's something that's not really talked about in the wider community.

Now, 'The Yips' is often talked about in terms of sports. It's a mental wall that keeps you from performing at your best; maybe the pressure to perform has gotten to you, maybe you just got back from injury and you're too preoccupied with not getting injured, but whatever it is you're incapable of performing at the level that you were before.

This happens with creative people too. Maybe you're a musician and you can't seem to play the same way you used to. Maybe you're a writer who can't bring yourself to sit down and write like you think you should. Maybe you're an artist and everything you put out looks, to you, like garbage. You're always chasing this feeling, this idea, this thing that you think needs to be true to be great.

And in roleplaying, this happens all the time. You think that you need to put in a lot of effort into your replies, because you want to meet expectations of your partners. You take their replies and you put them in your drafts, and you say 'I'll get to them.' But you don't. Instead they sit there, piling up, like a giant boulder growing heavier by the second. You can't bring yourself to deal with them, because it feels like such a huge ordeal.

And then one of two things happens. You either quit roleplaying entirely, because it's not fun. It's a chore. It's work. Or, you just delete all of them, start fresh, but don't change your behavior and the process starts again. Maybe you decide you need to start fresh on a new blog, and you move from account to account, never finding anything changing.

Look, you don't realize it, but you've already got The Yips. You've fallen into the pit. But don't worry, because there is a way out. But first you need to grasp how it happened.

When everyone starts roleplaying, no one thinks about things like quality or how much they 'need' to write or things like trying to meet other people's expectations. You're having fun. You want to have fun. You're writing, and they're writing, and that's all there is.

But then you start to actually gain understanding; you realize that some people are good writers. You realize that people seem to be putting in effort. You've gained understanding, and in so doing, you've suddenly realized that you might not be as good as others. But, and this is the important part, the only one who cares about this is you. After all, no one was complaining before; the one who has changed is you.

In other words, you're so concerned with meeting ideas of 'quality' and 'living up to expectations' that you end up doing nothing because you're being crushed under the weight of your own expectations.

So, now we know what it is. How do we deal with it?

Well, for one, you need to teach yourself how to get back to basics. Chances are, at no point have any of your partners actually complained about any of the supposedly awful parts of your writing. Thus, we need to see this as a skill, one you're going to work on. It's a habit that you're going to form for yourself.

First, I don't think about roleplaying as writing. Yes, it involves writing. But for me, writing implies a lot of things; writing a novel or a story is work, it requires effort, it's tiring, it's something that contains expectations. Writing is what you do in school, a thing that gets a grade at the end. It's stressful and has pressure associated with it.

But roleplaying is different. I've separated these two things in my mind. I don't go 'I'm going to write today' I go 'I'm going to roleplay.' Roleplaying is a game, it's fun, it's something I do that's entirely separate from writing.

But let's take this a step further.

When I write a response, I don't use drafts. I don't think about it. I just go with my gut. A response for me takes no more than around 5 minutes, maybe 10 if it's really long. And the way I do this is that I read my partner's response, and I just respond, and then I post it.

Now, some people will go but how could you not go back over it and make sure it's perfect and not bad and- No. Stop.

This is the skill you're going to learn. This is the thing you're going to develop. No more overthinking, no more trying to be perfect.

By just going with your gut, by not thinking but feeling your muse, you're training yourself to just respond. It's not work. It's not conscious. It's just something you know how to do. It's not stressful. It's just something that you do.

And this will make your writing easier. You'll stop struggling to 'have muse' because you'll just write. You won't have to think about how to respond, you'll just respond. And more importantly, you'll remove the stress from replying.

Look, it's not going to be easy at first. But the point is that you, the mun, need to form the habits that let roleplaying be fun again. Instead of feeling stressed or anxious, you'll be able to just write and enjoy yourself. It's a skill, one you can develop.

And it begins by taking a step back and changing how you approach your roleplaying. Roleplaying isn't a job. It's not a test. It's not something with serious consequences. So don't approach it the way you approach those things. Retrain yourself to do more roleplaying and less worrying.