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brother-emperors · 3 months

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hi!! i’m a classics major and am so entranced by your art and how you interact with history and literature, it really inspires me and expands my brain all the time. SO spicy.

anyways, I was wondering if you’d be comfortable talking a bit about your degree (s) and how they’ve influenced your artistic/critical analytical processes??

oh man, I have exactly zero degrees. like a true jester, I went to a trade art school, so I don't even have an art related degree, I've got a certification of surviving hell completion

the way art and history interact for me is that a lot of it circles back to trying to find ways to talk about something. history doesn't necessarily repeat, but it often rhymes, haunts, and cannibalizes. some eras of history are equal parts history and a stage, and a stage serves as a place to say something without necessarily having to be in it. the bossism politics of the philippines rhymes with the faction politics of the late republic more often than it doesn't. watching the marcoses crawl back into power was like watching the medici return to florence. duterte said he was like julius caesar crossing the rubicon, and over 6,000 were murdered under his regime. somethings are the same.

a lot of it feels like a puzzle, and I like it when pieces come together. more often than not, there's something current going on that prompts me to look back into history for something comparable, either as a stage, or just to feel like I'm not losing my mind, that other people had to deal with this shit too.

I was a teenager when the original assassin's creed games were coming out, and I used to go to libraries with other fans and we'd just sit in the non fiction sections and read everything that was on a shelf, and then go outside or whatever and start talking about where the games diverged from history and try to figure out what the next game would do based on whatever we learned. and I just kind of. kept doing that even when I stopped playing the games because the story sucked ass, but because there's already a second intersection of fiction working along side historical analysis, it unlocks a bunch of other stuff in the back of my mind while I take notes on something.

the gore you read in the thebaid reminds me a lot of imperial chines torture literature, and now we've got imperial horror and while we've moved out of the ancient Mediterranean but it's a whole body of work that I'm now looking at while thinking about rome, and somewhere in there, I'll probably find some literary theme that's cool and I'll start researching whether or not someone's examined like. the renaissance from that lens. what does the gore mean. what happens when history unfairly maligns and scapegoats someone. what happens when a foundational sacrifice goes wrong.

one of the most gut wrenching things I ever read was about how rome took any record of spartacus' words and buried it, and now I spend too much time thinking about what words we put in the mouths of dead people.

#also if it was not obvious. i have unmedicated adhd. which is why my brain frequently works like a horrible pin ball machine #ask tag #anyway! i have no idea if this answered your question but this is more or less how my brain works when i make stuff

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jacksprostate · 2 months

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f Narrator wanting to murder maim mutilate m marla.. or marla/ male marla and narrator/f narrator worsties/besties. or marla/male marla and tyler… or anything with marla/ male marla..

Marlon called me, interrupted me at work, and he said he had a bruise. He said I needed to come and look at it right away, because he needed to know.

This was him, asking me, pounded flank steak, to look and tell him the nature of his bruise.

Marlon hasn't had health insurance in years, so he tries not to think about it, usually. It's easy, since there's no difference when you have health insurance. It's old hat.

But today, he thought about it.

And he noticed a bruise.

So I'm walking up to the Regent hotel after work, and he's in the lobby in his limp little tank top. He'd call it a wifebeater and imagine himself in place of the wife, I'm sure. I wonder if he isn't cold all the time. Mr. Marlon Singer, such a masochist just so he can show off his skeletal body with all the cigarette burns I have to hear him and Tyler laughing over.

I am Jane's abnormal hemorrhoid development.

He doesn't mention what Tyler and I stole from him, even though I think it was all the cash he had. Even though just three days ago he tried to chase me around the house and beat me with a broom. He made me and Tyler go sleep in the junkyard. Buried under our furs, howling at the moon. Maybe I can't fault him for that.

He couldn't keep it here where the guys he brings back could get at it, he said, and sure. But he should've known better than to tell Tyler about it, because now it's bags upon bags of lye being kept in the driest room in the house.

I work on grinding cracks into my remaining teeth as he grabs his neighbors Agatha and Dianne's Meals on Wheels kits. The delivery lady remarks on what a good young man Marlon must be, helping out these old ladies. Oh, yeah. A real, upstanding, mummified rat of a man. Maybe he helped them into the ditch. He yaps at me the entire walk up to his room, and I don't hear a word as I methodically rip up the skin around Tyler's kiss on my hand with a broken nail. It's been infected since Tuesday, and the ring of puffy red flesh makes the ghost of her lips white like the center of a neon tube. Always buzzing.

We get to his room, he says to me, "One of these boxes is for you, you know."

I think about all the women who bother to use what little time they have to operate charities that keep the poor and destitute alive enough to want to kill themselves. All that time spent cooking mac and cheese en masse and putting little packets of powdered milk next to little cartons of the liquid, like they get at schools and prisons, packets that can only be opened by the nimble fingers of caring relatives these elderly recipients do not have.

Sure.

Tyler told me I need to be eating at least two meals a day, or she'd steal a blender and make me drink raw chicken. So I eat the Meals on Wheels box. Sorry Agatha. I rip open the powdered milk packet, dump it into the carton, hold it closed, and shake it. Twice the calories. A recipe for palliative care.

Marlon's sitting there, quiet, eating Dianne's latest last meal. All the urgency is gone. Sucked dry. He's got pallor like a hospice heart failure. When dogs get treated for heartworms, the worms die, and sometimes, not all of them break apart. Sometimes, there will be thin, dead cords of necrotized nematode strung through their heart waiting for the right beat to fall apart and clot a vital artery. This can take years to happen. Your pet recovers perfectly from treatment until seven years down the line, you give it a doggy cupcake and a pulmonary embolism for its tenth birthday.

Marlon looks like he's had his first melarsomine injection and his owner is thinking about taking him to a dog park instead of bothering with the second. If you let a dog get its heart rate up too high when getting treated for all the parasites you let grow in it, its heart will explode. Or all the worms will clog its lungs. Whichever one it is, it's happening to Marlon here in this room. On this bed.

He says he'd found a bruise, a while back. A nasty little thing, like the crush of a plum under your thumb. Near one of his ankles. And Marlon Singer knew he couldn't afford any novel treatments, and he'd seen too many people rot from the inside out from them already. He did not go to the clinic down the street that gets its windows broken in often enough that there's just big black billowing sails of trashbags over their storefront more often than not. Marlon says he once saw a rat nailed to the door, which is something you'd think would be too neat and poetic for real life. He didn't go to the clinic because he didn't have to. And maybe if he was fucking guys he wanted to he would be a bit more cautious, but the men Marlon Singer gets to fuck are the type to have given him those bruises in the first place. They're the reason there's single mothers visiting that clinic, like half melted wax getting scraped out of the picture. He says he shouldn't feel guilty.

I tell Marlon about where I got the idea for poisoning all the food at the Pressman hotel.

He asks me what I mean by that, and I tell him about my first boss at the company I work for now.

When I first started there, I was selling our cars to companies. Bulk orders for work vehicles. My job was to not fuck up any contracts we already had. Marlon is probably aware, but the type of man involved in that sort of thing, he knows he's got you on a collar and chain. You and him both know he'll be renewing the contract, but you have to do the song and dance for him. Pretend you like how close he gets to you. Pretend you don't want to rip his testicles from his ballsack when he leans in sweaty and tells you how he likes your hair, did you go and do all that just for me?

Because he knows. And you know. But enduring this is what you were hired to do. If you were a man, you would've been hired to create a sense of the old boys club with this guy. But you're not.

There is so much pretense in the world.

Anyway, my first boss, call him Joe — whenever I'd return from those trips and dinners, Joe wouldn't pretend that it wasn't a shit job. He'd commiserate and wish me luck with the next one. He didn't overstep, he wasn't creepy, he kept his distance. The best you could hope for. Thirty days on the job, they asked me how I was doing, and I told them I was doing great. The job was amazing, I felt embraced by the company, my boss was great. One of those things was true to me.

And when Joe got his promotion, for being such a great regional manager, he cornered me in my cubicle and informed me he'd been jerking off into my nicely labeled thin salad lunches each time they showed up in the office fridge. He told me this with the same smile he'd always worn.

Marlon, he's next to me, and he leans closer like we're having a nice little confession. My skin itches.

It was before the 90 day clause kicked in my health coverage, so I had to wait at one of those free clinics like Marlon's, and I was surrounded by a lot of young men, wispy mangled pears. What little flesh was left was soft. When I told the nurse what happened, I watched myself die in her eyes. Dappling up with rashes and bruises until I was all painted and sunken like a bog body.

For the longest time, I wondered if I'd become the oral Mary. How many times I vomited in that office toilet, I don't know. I stopped bringing lunch.

The thing is, I couldn't see it in his face. Joe's, I mean. Not even when he told me. I couldn't see it in anyone. So I stopped eating out. Stopped eating altogether, really.

Marlon, his response was to go to the support groups. His tragedy was that it was a slow death, coming for him. Best to wriggle into the pile of dying bodies, see what it's like. Maybe that could muster enough suicidal impulse.

I tell Marlon, of course, I couldn't go to HR. I was a new hire with no evidence and previous record of liking my boss. I didn't want to tell my mom. I didn't want her to know. Those uncomfortable dinners became absolutely, wretchedly unbearable as I thought about the food I was being forced to share.

When the option came up for a dead end job in the least loved department in the building, I put on the best performance of my life to get the part. Best aspiring Compliance and Liability head and sole department employee, that's me. My new job was to keep secrets. It was, already, old hat.

For months I thought about waking up from a narcoleptic fit at my desk, with Joe leaning over the cubicle wall and asking if I was alright. I watched my stomach like it was nuclear. Every extra second it took until I bled like usual slid me closer to buying myself a shotgun and pumping a slug or two into my brain.

It's an unavoidable fear, I tell Marlon. You can't do anything about it. Once you know, you know. At some point, you have to find the peace in it. Imagine yourself, a balloon popping with meaty chunks flying apart, splattering onlookers and raining viscera.

For a month, six months, I had cancer. Worse than cancer. Every time I eat out, I get it again.

Marlon is looking at me, melting stained glass, drowning in that sort of shared pity you build together with someone who's dying.

I don't want Marlon to feel guilty.

I tell Marlon, that's why I poison the food at the Pressman hotel. Someone's got to do it. Blood in the tomato sauce, spit on the steak. Imagine what you could do to a soup. The men who go to the Pressman hotel, they're the kind that leave Marlon bloody and walking around Paper Street calling for Tyler to come out and burn more holes into him. They're the kind that get promoted from regional manager. They're the kind that lean in close, pull your wrist towards them, and say there's one way they know you could secure the contract renewal. The kind that almost ruin it in a temper tantrum when you don't, resulting in an upper management intervention on the 24th day of your new job. They're the kind that hear that shit and say you should've been more appeasing. More polite.

Don't feel guilty, Marlon.

I hope all of them rot so everyone can see the maggots eating their insides.

Marlon isn't smiling. I am unavoidably bad at distracting him. There's something final in it, when he sighs, and takes off his tank top. He says it's on his back, and I should just tell him.

I look. I see it. Black hole, botfly, necrosis. There's so many things these broken blood vessels could be. Withering, snapping apart like mummified heartworms. I imagine driving the two inch melarsomine needle deep into the muscles bunched upon his spine.

I look.

I press my hands into him, and I grip like I'm trying to rend my fingers through his skin, deep into his body cavity to rip out his guts. Like I'm trying to grab the rope of his small intestine and strangle him with it. Marlon's yelling at me and trying to hit me, arms flapping like a chicken, and I am bruising ten deep circles into the soft pearskin of his abdomen. It's the only place left on him that's mealy, that isn't frayed rope under worn out leather.

I tell him, you've got bruises. They look mostly normal, to me.

Don't worry too much about it.

And Marlon, he leans into me, and I let him.

#asks #fight club #female fight club au #my writing #obv directly in parallel to the book chapter #this has been sort of floating in my head #in the book its probably the most caring moment the narrator has for marla #and i think that is the same here actually #its just female narrator off the charts detestes marlon more in the first place. puts all her sense of sympathy and shared solidarity into #Tyler. but. yeah #anyway made marlon's life absolutely miserable #and the narrators #i actually went back and forth on that #i dont want to... necessarily... give her Solid Reasons in a way male narrator doesnt have #but its sort of inescapable that fucked up misogynistic shit would happen #and i was thinking how to resolves the food contamination question in my head #hard to explain #inherently more horrible shit will happen to her than male narrator #but not excessively and i want it to feed into the same issues. in this case her complete subjugation in the office and inability to freely #reject the horrific shit shes forced to play along with #resulting in her doing the same to the fat cats rolling by #anyway #she does care about marlon #its complicated

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mamayan · 6 months

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#Genya doesn’t use a gavel he shoots his gun in the court room #Obanai will rule guilty if Kaburamaru doesn’t like them #they’d make horrible judges lmfaooo #baby Muichiro just sleeps and continuously asks the same question #look at them #LOOK AT EM #LOOK AT THEMMMMMM #look at Obanai #LOOK AT HOW HE SIT #LOOK #Obanai Iguro #he’s a cutie pie #LOOK AT SWEET BABY GENYA #so precious #I love them #genya shinazugawa #iguro obanai #sanemi shinazugawa #himejima gyomei

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squeakadeeks · 3 months

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moodboard for this past week ❤️

#they should invent a grad school thats not fucking insane #i'm hanging in there but im the most unwell i've been in AWhile #this week was just horrible #there was already the freezer food incident but it also started off with a very severe pain episode thats putting me in constant woe #even mundane motion has been agonizing which is McAwesome bc we had a lab inspection which involved moving hundreds of pounds of equipment #during which we found a blackwidow and rats which we had to deal with and was a whole thing psychologically on top of the physical toll #the new class fiasco is still popping off and i had to respond to at this point over 400 emails in the fleeting moments outside of lab #AND A STUDENT TRIED TO FINANCIALLY BRIBE THEIR WAY INTO THE CLASS ? ?? ?? ?????#then the instructor wanted to use me as a guinea pig and i had to test new circuit boards but I wasnt given any time to do so properly #i had to test them plus get them operational and deal with my incoming students all in a frantic 10 minute window #im in charge of running our meetings too but the instructor was interrupting and having side conversations that made it really hard-#to train the other people on the new equipment in a smooth manner #which meant that a bunch of people had to keep me after to ask questions which made me late for my drs appointment #where i found out i cant get the new covid vaccine bc my heart and blood levels arnt stable enough #and joanns lost an expensive+critical fabric order of mine+i had to give a big presentation this week on my research that was stressful #and my inbox is still blowing up from being needed all over the place between teaching lab and classes and yall i am. so so tired.#im in so much pain and so stressed out #debating the ethics of turning into a pile of lint to escape my responsibilities and mortal frame

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weirderscience · 9 months

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warriorcats is so funny. its narrative says indoor pet cats are missing out on the true cat way of life but at the same time i have never read a book series so dedicated to depicting the realities of what happens to cats when they are outside the house

#book series that asks the simple question 'what if you let your cat outside'#over several arcs you get the answer: the cat dies badly and horribly #labz.txt

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crimeronan · 4 months

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currently possessed with thoughts of Camila coming for a visit with an old photo album from before Luz disappeared, but it happens on a day where Luz is hanging out with Eda so it ends up just being Camila showing Hunter Luz's baby pictures and being so so so so so fond about how much Hunter loves her. Camila shares stories of silly little things that Luz did when Camila was her mom and Hunter just smiles because "she's always been that way"

AW. OH NO THAT'S SO CUTE.... hunter matching camila's old stories with stories of his own from when he and luz were growing up and not even Realizing how much it means to camila.... just to have this little glimpse of who luz was as a child and the pieces of her childhood that were Not defined by Endless Horrors (TM)....

#hunter asking questions about every damn random object in the background of any photo #hunter like oh so she's ALWAYS been befriending venomous and poisonous animals. is that a human thing??#camila: no. not even slightly #hunter describing having to constantly chase after luz when they were kids because her autistic wandering did not stop in the demon realm #and describing luz reading and writing and playing and annoying everyone she talked to and getting underfoot constantly....#and it's like. so obvious to camila how much he Adores her.#none of it is an act or an angsty protective thing or an irritating job to him he's not pretending. he just adores her #camila's ongoing desperate gratitude and quiet guilt about feeling grateful to someone who was neglected and parentified... ough #replies #toh #princess luz au #horrible mindscape trauma pals #hunter toh #luz noceda #camila noceda

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jrueships · 7 months

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https://twitter.com/danfetes/status/1712166167572361344

josh says people saying stuff about stef ticks him off 😭 that's the meanest he'll ever get off the field 😭

that was kinda... 😏😏😏

and i definitely know stef feels the same... 😏

" tired of hearing all this nonsense... lot of guys in this league that have that same fire that don't get talked about, but--"

" frankly that kind of ticks me off when people wanna say stuff about him, but... we'll keep that all internal here 🙂🙃🫥."

this is allen at his boiling point omg 😭😭 held back by pr

#reporter: we talked to josh and we asked him a question about y-#stef smirks in Yeah. I Bet You Did. Bitch.😎 we're a two packaged deal. inseparable 😎 (insufferable) im his right hand man. his silly rab-#the sassy pose and the fond smile. theyre so untouchable dramatic ass top of the foodchain powercouple it's Unreal.#WHERE IS THE RPF!?!??!?!????#josh and allen sooooo fucked after this #fucked HARRRRD bro fucked HARD #and they were both soo ready for it like you cant tell me they didnt fuck nasty after this HELLO #we cant always bet on them winning but the fuck nasty is surely guranteed #diggs had the bed all set up with romantic candlelight and roses and josh hurdled over all that shit just to hold him in his arms #josh caught on fire a little bit but diggs patted the flames down before he could notice #all the snow piled up around their home in buffalo could not muffle the 'youre my qb.. ure my qb' pants& moans which shake those very walls #josh '🙃🙃' the hell outta this interview #he said YOU may not understand diggs horrors but **I** DO!!@@! **I** UNDERSTAND. I GET THEM.#the frustration of seeing everyone hate on his husband when he knows all of that pales in how much stef hates himself #AND THAT MAKES JOSHS LITTLE STUNNED FACE ALL THE MORE SAD LIKE. HES SO HURT FOR STEF.#AND HE JUST KNOWS. he KNOWS the public is gonna spin this horribly. make stef the diva they always degrade him as #josh has CONSTANTLY with like a bear pacing around the cracked glass enclosure barely disguised rage #defended stef from misinterpretation and disdained the diva drama so vehemently #so everytime josh messes up or stef messes up or they lose all josh is thinking and feeling is 'im fucking this up for him even more #i dont care if theyre gonna be mad at me. diggs is hurting. somehow some way. diggs is gonna get Hurt.#and i cant do anything but talk. and i cant even do that well.#it's all my fault i cant do anything im so stupid im so stupid'#saint bernard song 1 hour #that single wide eyed stare he gives his wr bcs all he can do is stare as stef's pain surges #it's not fear of stef as the media tries to portray for qbwr tension. it's fear For stef.#he knows theres hurt. and he knows theres gonna be even more hurting. and. the nail. he knows he cant do anything to help it from stopping #'why couldnt i throw better. i need to just run it to lessen the chances. i need to do something. i need to be better. i have to be better'#meanwhile diggs could care less abt what everyone else thinks about him. he just cares abt how josh thinks. about josh #stef wants to perform well so josh can actually feel well. be able to express anything he wants without worry or treading #diggs/allen

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sheirukitriesfandom · 5 months

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What kind of drunk is your OC? Do they spontaneously grow a horrible taste in music? Do they suddenly love everybody? Can't they stop crying?

#oc questions #ginposting #oc asks #ask game #alcohol #alcohol cw #I'm the horrible taste in music jusging by me blasting 1 2 Polizei by fucking MoDo as loud as possible

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fishwithtitz · 4 months

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29, 40, 57 for the horrible questions!!

YAY I LOVE THESE!

Response to the Horrible Questions Asks below 👇

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? Yes. Quite a few times. I'm a very honest person and say things matter of fact, which has gotten me in some hot water before. I never intend to be mean and my fiancé has even said "now that I know you're autistic, I don't get nearly as offended by the things you say anymore" and I'm like...

...lol thanks?

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? No. I hate my lady lumps.

57: Do you believe in true love? I believe that love ebbs and flows and changes depending on the state of a relationship. I think I'd have to know the definition to true love for this one.

#horrible asks #horrible questions #horrible question asks #you asked i answered #ask me shit #answered asks #shitposting

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jerrsterrr · 7 months

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hey guyssshahgahgahaaaaaaahhaaaa

obligatory silly posting about my ocs/sonas!!!!!!! and. me

and the amongus crewmates because i made a joke on insta that my followers were little guys and it was a silly "where do u wanna be on the drawing" w my mutuals over there :3

those characters are like my sort of sonas in my little oc world, the mind, body and heart!! i have this lil goober with headphones to more accurately represent me ^___^

(LMAO THIS WAS THE ONLY PIC I COULD FIND)

Theres like a big biiiigg storyline as these three being main characters thats going on here with several different characters that i wish to update more accurately on my Toyhouse and i have several posts on my instagram but i decided to use tumblr as to rant and ykno fanboy about my own ocs aswell!!!!!!!!! lol

okay long infodump that probably makes little sense my bad

The way it goes is themed after infinite realities, death,, living and basically heaven? Which i came up with after having like several years of haunting dreams LOL

For the longest time since i was little ive had dreams of being in some sort of messed up apocalypse so thats what the mind is from!! His name is Xiety and he looks like me when i had those dreams, or like some fucked up bird thing heheh

After all that though i started having dreams where i was,, different people sort of?? Dreams with different povs or dreams where i lived entire different lives. Thats Jerri! the body.

The last little guy is called matthew and isnt based off any dreams but more based off the feeling i get when i realize im dreaming. Ive never lucid dreamed but ive always had like a moment to realize "this isnt my life" and im just like viewing whats happeining o_0

All together i made a story for when they get sort of seperated, Xiety, the mind is seperated from the two in a apocalyptic world they have control over and hides the heart (matthew). The body being basically a carbon copy of itself just wanders around this world. Jerri cant remember how they got there or where they are from, but they die, over and over and over. Until eventually, they find the heart, in some rubble, and they sort of gain concious enough to realize "um im stuck in infinite zombie reality hell and this is NOT my reality" they take the plush and try to survive, but xiety kinda catches on and feels betrayed by this. He cant comprehend why on earth the body would want to live knowing what he knows (news flash only the mind knows what he knows of their og reality) HENCE the breaking out and being stuck in a infinite inbetween of constant realities woooo. Jerri and Matthew try to find to find the og reality, going through different bodies, meeting different minds and dying in ALOT of them. It becomes kinda clear that in most realities NONE of them do they live or are happy LMAO

that was like a shitty simplification BUT BESIDES ALLAT they litterally stumble into heaven and meet gods and Reapers and souls BUT they cant stay which SUCKS cuz imagine losing it it and one day people see you for yourself and you cant STAY cuz ur technically not dead just abstracted into peices and yaddah yaddah more ocs hehehe

(ALSO BASED ON A DREAM I HAD)

anyways heres a silly video i made with all of em:

ALSO ALSO OBLIGATORY TAG @moenmomentsthemoe-en

:333333

#j oc snippets #GOD THIS MAKES NO SENSE GRAAA #anyways the sillies ive had for like 4 years heheheheohoh #jerri was like my main sona for like 2 years but they all represent me in some sorta weird dream way #jerri grew xiety didnt and matthew just k n o ws #i lvoe this storyline so much and the rest of the ocs i needa loredump too because can you imagine jerri interacting with people aft alltha #me when i stumble into heaven but am not allowed bcuz im stuck in limbo #real not clickbait #i still get these weird dreams till this day btw HEHE #follow my toyhouse im tryna upload more everyday #fanboying #oc cringe #WAHOOOOOO #erm if u want u can ask questions but idk this is rlly horribly explained #theres also lots of more art on insta #OK DIES GOODBYEVIGWTFGH

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

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Phullo it is I again!

I am very glad that you actually responded and given me an actual advice since I was worried about the question I sent you.

Though besides that I have another question for you (hoorayyy)!

So, about the reading books earlier- I’m fortunately a bookworm too! It’s just that I notice I prefer reading the genre science fiction/psychological horror more than… anything else!

And while the books I am currently reading, ‘Flowers For Algernon’ and ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ (these books are seriously so wonderfully made they make want to tear my walls), DO have romantic aspects of it- it’s not really the main plot of the story..

‘Flowers For Algernon’ has amazing storytelling and is very unique- though I’m not sure if you’ve read it before but, it’s actually just the main character taking notes. Hence why there was a lot misspellings which honestly makes it a great touch if you know the context behind it.

On the other hand, ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ too shares the same uniqueness as the other, possibly even more unique if I must say so myself. Though I REALLY don’t want to make my story similar to them since I want to make it more heart warming than fucked up..

Which is why I feel like I have the need to borrow or buy at least one romantic book because, I lack of it. I mean I accidentally borrowed it one time but it was kind of disappointing.

I don’t know if its a good idea and if I should do it or not since does it really matter of the genre, or just the writing?

Still, if you have any good books that are in the romance genre. Feel free to recommend some to me!

-lots of love, from another bookworm

welcome back! happy to hear you're a bookworm as well <3 im writing those titles down since i read a criminal lack of sci-fi despite loving it

i actually don't have any straight up romance recs - i don't actively search it out (outside of fanfic), so any romance i read just comes with whatever book i've picked up. just straight up romance bores me, unless its a fic with a pairing i actively like. and even then, i need to take breaks from it unless the romance is interspersed with an actual plot. im not a romantically-geared person! i dont have single Main Plot Is Romance book on my shelves!

but imo its really just the quality of writing that helps. ive never been in a romance, im the child of two different divorces, and yet ive been told that i write romance fairly well. go fuckin figure lmao.

so actually my advice on romance is to just like. wow idk what i do is pick apart the romances i see on tv / in writing. what makes them good together, how do they act around each other, what are their love languages, what's their dynamic, what traditional romance things do they partake in, what dont they partake in, do they have anything nontraditional, do they work and why do / they dont they - does that make their relationship more interesting or is it flat. are they a good match.

you don't have to have every answer, but ive found that at least understanding their characters / dynamics, and having them interact in a way that suits them will help your romance feel natural. dont conform to tropes or tradition, that will just make the relationship flat and unrealistic. and you can always sprinkle in little things that you like / would like, which will help ground the romance and get you into the groove

tldr with romance, i think it's better to observe real life (whether that's paying attention to couples or reading reddit threads) & analyze in-love or in-a-relationship characters instead of just reading romance novels. bc honestly, and from what i can tell, they can tend to be over the top or cookie cutter

just realized you did not explicitly ask for romance advice! Oopsie! i got a little carried away here....

#another thing i like to do is analyze bad fictional relationships / ones i dont like #both bc it gives me a concise argument / explanation if someone gets on me about it #and bc it helps me understand what makes good romances Good #bc bad relationships make me sit there and ask 'well. what went wrong here? why dont they work? why do i hate this? whats Missing?'#and filling in those gaps teaches me what Does work. what will go Right. why i Love it. what Is there.#sometimes the answer is simply bad writing & after taking a deeper look #i can conclude they they Are good for each other - the show/book just shoved them together with no reason other than #'need romance' or 'boy meet girl' or 'love at first sight'#i mean there are some romances that i look at it and im like 'wow! this should not be happening!'#but i Like it because its interesting enough! a good example is aline & the darkling from the grishaverse #such a fucking unhealthy relationship. really well written. fascinating. hot as hell. important for the story/characters.#i wanted to rip them apart but also glue them together to see how horrible the train crash would be!!!!#absolutely unprompted #so i mean... i think i can rec books that Have good romances in them? but thats not the focus by any means #lemme know... i know im less helpful this time around but i hope im helping a little!#feel free to ask as many questions as you like - ill do my best with all of them

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