Latest Posts by shamelesschilddeer - Page 4

Avoiding the “Mary Sue” trap while creating characters.

A “Mary Sue” is that charact. Perfect; bends the story to their will, faces no meaningful struggles, and often feels too idealized to be relatable. The thing I like most is when an author makes a character, a situation, a scene, realistic. I like heavy realism in my books. I know we read to escape reality, but there's a way to do that.

1. Give Them Flaws Not the checklist kind. Not "clumsy" or "bad at math" unless that genuinely bleeds into who they are and how they move through the world. I mean the kind of flaws that crack open relationships. That drive certain choices. That make you want to shake them. Flaws should cost them something. Otherwise, they’re decoration.

2. Let Them Fail Failure is the most human thing. It brings shame, doubt, growth, all the stuff that makes a character feel alive. Let them try, and stumble. Let them mess up something important. Let them hurt people and not know how to fix it. Failure opens narrative doors that perfection just slams shut.

3. Don’t Make Everyone Love Them If every side character is just there to admire your MC, you’re not writing a story—you’re writing propaganda. Let people mistrust them. Let some hate them. Not everyone sees the same version of a person. Maybe someone sees behind their act, maybe someone’s immune to their charm. That gives perspective.

4. Make Their Skills Believable A skill with no backstory is just plot armor. If they're good at something, show why. Time. Training. Failure. Maybe they’re not even the best—just someone who works harder than they should have to. That’s infinitely more compelling than someone who just is talented for no reason.

5. Avoid Overloading Them With Traits They don’t need to be smart, funny, hot, tragic, a prodigy, a rebel, and an empath who bakes when sad. Choose what matters. Strip it down to the few traits that define them, the ones they carry into every scene. Complexity is about layers, not a pile of labels.

6. Give Them Internal Conflict We all contradict ourselves. That’s the beauty of it. Your character should wrestle with decisions. Regret them. Say one thing and feel another. Inner conflict is what separates a walking trope from a person we believe in.

7. Let the Plot Push Back The world shouldn’t bend for your character. The plot should push them, break them, make them bleed for the win. Their goals should cost something. The story isn’t just their playground—it’s the pressure cooker where they get tested. If they’re never cornered, what’s the point?

8. Ensure They Don’t Eclipse the Entire Cast Other characters are not props. Give them wants, voices, limits. They don’t exist to spotlight the protagonist—they exist to breathe life into the story. And your MC is more interesting when they’re surrounded by people who push them, contradict them, challenge them.

9. Avoid Unrealistic Morality Nobody’s always right. And honestly, it’s annoying when they are. Let them justify things that aren’t justifiable. Let them fail to see another perspective. Let them believe they’re in the right—until they’re not. Give them a compass that doesn’t always point true north.

10. Make Them Struggle to Earn Trust Trust is a slow build. People remember hurt. They hesitate. Let your MC do the work—prove themselves, fail, rebuild. Trust earned over time is more satisfying than instant loyalty that comes out of nowhere.

I hate perfect characters. Especially when it’s pretend perfection. Like what do you mean he has abs when he has no time to workout? Like what do you mean she is so put together all the time? In this economy?

let's write something raw, something realistic.

When Should You Describe a Character’s Appearance? (And When You Really, Really Shouldn’t)

It’s one of the first instincts writers have: describe your character. What they look like, what they wear, how they move. But the truth is — readers don’t need to know everything. And more importantly, they don’t want to know everything. At least, not all at once. Not without reason.

Let’s talk about when to describe a character’s appearance, how to do it meaningfully, and why less often says more.

1. Ask: Who Is Seeing Them? And Why Now?

The best descriptions are filtered through a perspective. Who’s noticing this character, and what do they see first? What do they expect to see, and what surprises them?

She looked like someone who owned every book you were supposed to have read in school. Glasses slipping down her nose. Sharp navy coat, sensible shoes, and an air of knowing too much too soon.

Now we’re not just learning what she looks like — we’re learning how she comes across. That tells us more than eye color ever could.

2. Use Appearance to Suggest Character, Not List Facts

Avoid long physical checklists. Instead, choose a few details that do double work — they imply personality, history, class, mood, or context.

Ineffective: She had long, wavy brown hair, green eyes, a small nose, and full lips. She wore jeans and a white shirt.

Better: Her hair was tied back like she hadn’t had time to think about it. Jeans cuffed, a shirt buttoned wrong. Tired, maybe. Or just disinterested.

You don’t need to know her exact features — you feel who she is in that moment.

3. Know When It’s Not the Moment

Introducing a character in the middle of action? Emotion? Conflict? Don’t stop the story for a physical description. It kills momentum.

Instead, thread it through where it matters.

He was pacing. Long-legged, sharp-shouldered — he didn’t seem built for waiting. His jaw kept twitching like he was chewing on the words he wasn’t allowed to say.

We learn about his build and his mood and his internal tension — all in motion.

4. Use Clothing and Gesture as Extension of Self

What someone chooses to wear, or how they move in it, says more than just what’s on their body.

Her sleeves were too long, and she kept tucking her hands inside them. When she spoke, she looked at the floor. Not shy, exactly — more like someone used to being half-disbelieved.

This is visual storytelling with emotional weight.

5. Finally: Describe When It Matters to the Story, Not Just the Reader

Are they hiding something? Trying to impress? Standing out in a crowd? Use appearance when it helps shape plot, stakes, or power dynamics.

He wore black to the funeral. Everyone else in grey. And somehow, he still looked like the loudest voice in the room.

That detail matters — it changes how we see him, and how others react to him.

TL;DR:

Don’t info-dump descriptions.

Filter visuals through a point of view.

Prioritize impression over inventory.

Describe only what tells us more than just what they look like — describe what shows who they are.

Because no one remembers a checklist.

But everyone remembers the girl who looked like she’d walked out of a forgotten poem.

How to Write a CHARMING Villain

Everyone loves a good villain, and they especially love a charming one. If you want to write an antagonist who's both evil yet irresistible, look no further!

1. Show Their "Kindness"

Kindness? Wait, I thought you said we're writing a villain today.

Yup, I mean it--make your antagonist appear kind. Realistically, someone who's polite and friendly is often considered more attractive than someone who's rude and judgmental, so make them kind. It doesn't have to be honest kindness, but you want your readers to doubt the malevolence of your character, if that makes sense.

You can show this kindness through small, daily actions; they don't have to have a lot of impact on the story. Something simple like leaving a big tip, granting a minion a vacation, letting someone go first in the line, and holding open the door all contribute to this image.

2. Smooth Talker

Effective communication is everything. If your villain is eloquent, they seem more capable and intelligent! However, if you're looking to expand further, explore what they can do with their speech.

Does everyone pay attention when they start speaking? Are they able to calmly resolve conflicts verbally? Are they really persuasive? Do they speak elegantly?

Show the effects of their communication skills!

3. Good leader

Make them a good leader. Make them consider how their subordinates might feel. Make them choose good decisions. Perhaps they give their workers days off when they need it. Perhaps they engage with their followers often. Perhaps they're more down-to-earth.

A solid leader looks respectable while a poor one looks ridiculous.

4. Intelligent + Logic

I say this all the time, but make your villains smart, make them logical, make your readers understand where they're coming from. Some of the best antagonists I've ever seen are not the ones that seem excessively evil or unhinged, but rather the ones that seem logical in their actions. And knowing that they're well-aware of their actions and the consequences makes things that much scarier.

if you want a charming villain, you have to start with someone who is competent.

5. Conflicting Moments

At the end of the day, your character is still the antagonist. Yes, they might appear kind, but that's not going to last forever. There will be times when they act unnecessary cruel, and that's okay.

Your audience might be unsettled and confused from the whiplash, and that's okay. Don't force your character into being someone else to satisfy the readers. Embrace the difference.

6. Backstory

Backstories matter for all different types of reasons. From establishing the basis to one's goals, morals, and values to providing the foundation for their character, an effective backstory can do a lot.

However, I want to specifically talk about how the backstory demonstrates someone overcoming their obstacles. If they made it to the present, then they really defied all odds to be here, and honestly? That's admirable (and attractive), no matter what kind of person they turn out to be.

Now, if you're thinking "what if I don't give the antagonist a painful backstory?", I'll address that real quick. You don't have to give them a super depressing past, but there will always be pain and hurt in their past, even if it isn't something "lifechanging" or there 24/7. There is no such thing as a perfect, happy past.

CONCLUSION

To quickly conclude, a charming villain is often not one who appears visibly evil, but one who appears compassionate, intelligent, well-spoken, and acts like a good leader.

Happy writing~

3hks :)

Tender, Subtle Ways to Show a Character Cares

For the characters who will literally die before saying it out loud, but their body and habits scream devotion.

Letting them walk on the inside of the sidewalk

Memorizing their coffee order

Keeping extra gloves/scarves/snacks just in case they forget theirs

Texting: “Are you home safe?” instead of “I miss you”

Tucking their hair tag in

Offering the last bite, even if they really wanted it

Taking mental notes on what makes them nervous or happy

Saying “Call me if you need anything” and meaning it

Sitting close enough that their shoulders brush

Keeping an umbrella in their bag. Just. In. Case.

Being the first to notice when something’s off

Defending them behind their back

Refusing to let them feel dumb, even for a second

Remembering little details from a single offhand comment

Turning down the music when they walk in without asking

Ways to show a Character is Hiding a Secret They’re Desperate to Protect

Secrets are juicy. But the best ones aren’t just plot bombs—they’re personal, shameful, dangerous because they mean something...

They flinch when a specific topic comes up. Just a little. Not enough for anyone to call it out, but enough to tell you they’re holding something back.

They avoid eye contact when someone asks a question they almost can’t dodge.

They rehearse conversations in their head, just in case “it” comes up. Always planning a version of the truth that’ll hold water without leaking too much.

They hate silence, not because they’re bored, but because it gives people time to think.

They keep a part of their past oddly vague. “Oh yeah, I lived in Boston for a bit,” they say, casually skipping over the why like it’s not loaded with dynamite.

They’re overly controlling of one specific detail. Always driving. Always cleaning. Always checking someone’s phone is face-down. Not because they’re picky—because if that one thread unravels, it all falls apart.

They sometimes seem exhausted by the lie they’re living. The weight of holding it together shows in subtle ways: headaches, bad sleep, irritability. Their body is cracking before the truth ever does.

Body Language Cheat Sheet For Writers 

╰ Facial expressions

These are your micro-signals, like the blinking neon signs of the soul. But they’re small, quick, and often lie harder than words.

Raised eyebrows — This can mean surprise or disbelief, sure. But it can also be a full-on, silent “Are you serious right now?” when someone’s being ridiculous. Or even curiosity when someone’s too emotionally repressed to askthe damn question.

Furrowed brow — That face people make when they’re doing long division in their head or trying to emotionally process a compliment. It’s thinking, yes—but also confusion, deep frustration, or quiet simmering rage.

Smiling — Can be happiness… or total fake-it-till-you-make-it energy. Some smiles are stiff. Some don’t reach the eyes. Show that.

Frowning — Sure, sadness. But also: disappointment, judgment, or the universal “I’m about to say something blunt, brace yourself.”

Lip biting — It’s not just nervousness, it’s pressure. Self-control. Anticipation. It’s the thing people do when they want to say something and decide, at the last second, not to.

╰ Eye movement

The window to the soul? Yeah. But also the window to when someone’s lying, flirting, or deeply trying not to cry in public.

Eye contact — Confidence or challenge. Eye contact can be gentle, curious, sharp like a blade. Sometimes it’s desperate: “Please understand me.”

Avoiding eye contact — Not always guilt. Sometimes it’s protectiveness. Sometimes it’s “I’m afraid if I look at you, you’ll see everything I’m trying to hide.”

Narrowed eyes — Calculating. Suspicious. The look someone gives when their brain’s saying “hmmm...” and it’s not a good hmm.

Wide eyes — Surprise, yes. But also sudden fear. The oh-God-it’s-happening look. Or when someone just found out they’re not as in control as they thought.

Eye roll — Classic. But try using it with tension, like when someone’s annoyed and trying very hard not to lose it in public.

╰ Gestures

This is where characters’ emotions go when their mouths are lying.

Crossing arms — Not just defensive. Sometimes it’s comfort. A self-hug. A barrier when the conversation is getting too personal.

Fidgeting — This is nervous energy with nowhere to go. Watch fingers tapping, rings spinning, sleeves tugged. It says: I’m not okay, but I’m trying not to show it.

Pointing — It’s a stab in the air. Aggressive, usually. But sometimes a desperate plea: Look. Understand this.

Open palms — Vulnerability. Honesty. Or a gesture that says, “I have nothing left to hide.”

Hand on chin — Not just thinking. It’s stalling. It’s delaying. It’s “I’m about to say something that might get me in trouble.”

╰ Posture and movement

These are your vibes. How someone occupies space says everything.

Slumped shoulders — Exhaustion. Defeat. Or someone trying to take up less space because they feel small.

Upright posture — Not always confidence. Sometimes it’s forced. Sometimes it’s a character trying really, really hard to look like they’re fine.

Pacing — Inner chaos externalized. Thinking so loudly it needs movement. Waiting for something. Running from your own thoughts.

Tapping foot — Tension. Irritation. Sometimes a buildup to an explosion.

Leaning in — Intimacy. Interest. Or subtle manipulation. (You matter to me. I’m listening. Let’s get closer.)

╰ Touch

This is intimacy in all its forms, comforting, protective, romantic, or invasive.

Hugging — Doesn’t always mean closeness. Could be a goodbye. Could be an apology they can’t say out loud. Could be awkward as hell.

Handshake — Stiff or crushing or slippery. How someone shakes hands says more than their words do.

Back patting — Casual warmth. Bro culture. Awkward emotional support when someone doesn’t know how to comfort but wants to try.

Clenched fists — Holding something in. Rage, tears, restraint. Fists mean tension that needs somewhere to go.

Hair tuck — Sure, flirtation or nerves. But also a subtle shield. A way to hide. A habit from childhood when someone didn’t want to be seen.

╰ Mirroring:

If two characters start syncing their body language, something is happening. Empathy. Chemistry. Shared grief. If someone shifts their body when the other does? Take notice. Other human bits that say everything without words...

Nodding — Not just yes. Could be an “I hear you,” even if they don’t agree. Could be the “keep going” nod. Could be patronizing if done too slow.

Crossed legs — Chill. Casual. Or closed-off, depending on context. Especially if their arms are crossed too.

Finger tapping — Time is ticking. Brain is pacing. Something’s coming.

Hand to chest — Sincerity, yes. But also shock. Or grounding—a subconscious attempt to stay present when everything feels like too much.

Tilting the head — Curiosity. Playfulness. Or someone listening so hard they forget to hide it.

Temple rub — “I can’t deal.” Could be physical pain. Could be stress. Could be emotional overload in disguise.

Chin stroking — Your classic “I’m judging you politely.” Often used in arguments between characters pretending to be calm.

Hands behind the back — Authority. Control. Or rigid fear masked as control.

Leaning body — This is the body betraying the brain. A tilt toward someone means they care—even if their words are cold.

Nail biting — Classic anxiety. But also habit. Something learned. Sometimes people bite because that’s how they self-soothe.

Squinting — Focusing. Doubting. Suspicion without confrontation.

Shifting weight — Uncomfortable. Unsure. Someone who wants to leave but doesn’t.

Covering the mouth — Guilt. Hesitation. The “should I say this?” moment before something big drops.

Body language is more honest than dialogue. If you really want to show your character’s internal world, don’t just give them lines. Give them a hand that won’t stop shaking. Give them a foot that won’t stop bouncing. Give them a mouth that smiles when their eyes don’t. And if you’re not sure what your character would do in a moment of fear, or love, or heartbreak, try acting it out yourself. Seriously. Get weird. Feel what your body does. Then write that down.

Unhealed Wounds Your Character Pretends Are Just “Personality Traits”

These are the things your character claims are just “how they are” but really, they’re bleeding all over everyone and calling it a vibe.

╰ They say they're "independent." Translation: They don’t trust anyone to stay. They learned early that needing people = disappointment. So now they call it “being self-sufficient” like it’s some shiny badge of honor. (Mostly to cover up how lonely they are.)

╰ They say they're "laid-back." Translation: They stopped believing their wants mattered. They'll eat anywhere. Do anything. Agree with everyone. Not because they're chill, but because the fight got beaten out of them a long time ago.

╰ They say they're "a perfectionist." Translation: They believe mistakes make them unlovable. Every typo. Every bad hair day. Every misstep feels like proof that they’re worthless. So they polish and polish and polish... until there’s nothing real left.

╰ They say they're "private." Translation: They’re terrified of being judged—or worse, pitied. Walls on walls on walls. They joke about being “mysterious” while desperately hoping no one gets close enough to see the mess behind the curtain.

╰ They say they're "ambitious." Translation: They think achieving enough will finally make the emptiness go away. If they can just get the promotion, the award, the validation—then maybe they’ll finally outrun the feeling that they’re fundamentally broken. (It never works.)

╰ They say they're "good at moving on." Translation: They’re world-class at repression. They’ll cut people out. Bury heartbreak. Pretend it never happened. And then wonder why they wake up at 3 a.m. feeling like they're suffocating.

╰ They say they're "logical." Translation: They’re terrified of their own feelings. Emotions? Messy. Dangerous. Uncontrollable. So they intellectualize everything to avoid feeling anything real. They call it rationality. (It's fear.)

╰ They say they're "loyal to a fault." Translation: They mistake abandonment for loyalty. They stay too long. Forgive too much. Invest in people who treat them like an afterthought, because they think walking away makes them "just as bad."

╰ They say they're "resilient." Translation: They don't know how to ask for help without feeling like a burden. They wear every bruise like a trophy. They survive things they should never have had to survive. And they call it strength. (But really? It's exhaustion wearing a cape.)

Making a Character Whine in Monologue

I’m a big believer in letting characters bleed quietly. You know, the kind of emotional tension that simmers just under the surface—not the dramatic “I am torn!” speeches. Here’s how I like to sneak internal conflict into my writing without making my characters feel like they belong in a bad soap opera... Have Fun! (｡♥‿♥｡)

╰ Saying the opposite of what they feel. Like insisting they’re fine while gripping a coffee mug like it personally insulted their ancestors.

╰ Pausing before responding to something simple. Because sometimes the silence says “I’m thinking too hard about this” louder than a whole paragraph ever could.

╰ Changing the subject when things get too close to their emotional soft spot. Classic evasion. Bonus points if they pretend it's for someone else’s sake.

╰ Making choices that contradict their stated goals. "I swear I’m over them"—cut to them rerouting an entire road trip to pass by their ex’s hometown.

╰ Being too nice. Yep. People-pleasing? Avoidance in a trench coat.

╰ Fixating on a tiny, irrelevant detail while avoiding the bigger thing. They can’t deal with their grief, but they can definitely spend 12 minutes lining up pens perfectly.

╰ Snapping at someone they trust—then immediately regretting it. Because pain has to leak out somewhere, and it’s usually not in a convenient monologue.

╰ Doing something “just in case,” but obviously hoping for the opposite. Packing a goodbye gift they never plan to give. Writing a message they never send.

╰ Rewriting memories in their head. “It wasn’t that bad. They didn’t mean it. I probably deserved it.” A spiral in slow motion.

╰ Being hyper-aware of how others are reacting to them. Internal conflict often turns into external paranoia: “Did she flinch? Was I too cold? Did he see that?”

Romance Dialogue Starters

Tender / Confessional Moments

"Come here. Just for a minute."

"You don’t have to be strong all the time."

"Stay. Please, just stay."

"You make me feel safe. That’s terrifying."

"I missed you so much it hurt."

"When I’m with you, I forget to be afraid."

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"You’re not a burden. You never were."

"I wish I’d met you sooner."

"You’re my favorite ‘what if.’"

Protective/Overprotective Behavior

"Where were you? I’ve been calling for hours."

"You could’ve died, you idiot."

"Don’t ever scare me like that again."

"Next time, I’m going with you. No arguments."

"You’re hurt. Let me see."

"I’m not letting you do this alone."

"Overreacting? You bled through your shirt!"

"You think I care what they say? I care about you."

"If anything happens to you, I’ll burn the whole damn world down."

Conflicted Longing

"If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop."

"We can’t do this." – "Then don’t look at me like that."

"You’re the last person I should want."

"Tell me to go, and I will."

"I want to hate you. But I don’t."

"This changes everything."

"Just tonight. Just this once."

"You’re always in my head. I hate it."

"You deserve better. But I’m selfish."

Ways I Show a Character is Emotionally Burned Out (Before They Even Realize It Themselves)

I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.

They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.

They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.

They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.

They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.

They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.

They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.

They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.

They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.

They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.

They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.

Habits That Reveal Deep Character

(A.K.A. the quiet stuff that says everything without screaming it)

❥ The “I Always Sit Facing the Exit” Quirk They don’t talk about their childhood much, but they always know where the exits are. Every restaurant. Every train. Trauma has muscle memory. Your job is to notice what it’s saying without needing a monologue about it.

❥ The “I Can’t Sleep Until I Hear You Lock the Door” Habit It's not controlling. It's care shaped like paranoia. They say “Goodnight” like it’s casual, but they’re counting the clicks of the lock like a lullaby. Let that show more than “I love you.”

❥ The “I Keep Everything You’ve Ever Given Me” Thing Not just gifts. Receipts with your doodles. The crumpled note you wrote when you were mad. Every bit of you that felt real. It’s borderline hoarder behavior, but also? It’s devotion.

❥ The “I Cook When I’m Sad” Pattern Their world’s falling apart, but suddenly everyone has banana bread. It’s not about food—it’s about control, about creating something warm when everything else is cold. And they won’t say it out loud, but they're asking, “Will you stay?”

❥ The “I Practice Conversations in the Mirror” Secret Before big moments, hard talks, or just answering the phone. They're rehearsing being okay. They're trying to be the version of themselves people expect. That’s not weakness—it’s survival wrapped in performance art.

❥ The “I Fix Other People’s Problems to Ignore My Own” Reflex Everyone calls them “strong,” but no one notices how fast they redirect. “How are you doing though?” they ask, one heartbeat after breaking down. Let your reader see how exhaustion wears a smile.

❥ The “I Never Miss A Birthday” Rule Even for people who forgot theirs. Even for exes. It’s not about being remembered—it’s about being someone who remembers. That’s character.

❥ The “I Clean When I Feel Powerless” Mechanism That sparkling sink? Not about hygiene. That’s grief control. That’s despair in a Clorox wipe. Let it speak volumes in the silence of a spotless room.

❥ The “I Pretend I Don’t Need Help” Lie They say, “I’m fine” like it’s a full stop. But their hands shake when they think no one’s looking. Let your other characters notice. Let someone care, even when they don’t ask for it.

❥ The “I Watch People When They’re Not Watching Me” Curiosity Not in a creepy way. In a poet’s way. In a “who are you when no one’s clapping” way. They love the in-between moments: laughter in elevators, fidgeting before speeches. That's who they are—observers, not performers.

How a Character’s Anger Can Show Up Quietly

Anger doesn’t always slam doors. Sometimes it simmers. Sometimes it cuts.

╰ They go still. Not calm... still. Like something is pulling tight inside them.

╰ They smile, but their eyes? Cold. Flat. Done.

╰ Their voice gets quieter, not louder. Controlled. Measured. Weaponized.

╰ They ask questions they already know the answers to, just to watch someone squirm.

╰ Their words are clipped. Polite. But razor-sharp.

╰ They laugh once. Without humor. You know the one.

╰ They leave the room without explanation, and when they come back? Different energy. Ice where fire was.

Emotional Walls Your Character Has Built (And What Might Finally Break Them)

(How your character defends their soft core and what could shatter it) Because protection becomes prison real fast.

✶ Sarcasm as armor. (Break it with someone who laughs gently, not mockingly.) ✶ Hyper-independence. (Break it with someone who shows up even when they’re told not to.) ✶ Stoicism. (Break it with a safe space to fall apart.) ✶ Flirting to avoid intimacy. (Break it with real vulnerability they didn’t see coming.) ✶ Ghosting everyone. (Break it with someone who won’t take silence as an answer.) ✶ Lying for convenience. (Break it with someone who sees through them but stays anyway.) ✶ Avoiding touch. (Break it with accidental, gentle contact that feels like home.) ✶ Oversharing meaningless things to hide real depth. (Break it with someone who asks the second question.) ✶ Overworking. (Break it with forced stillness and the terrifying sound of their own thoughts.) ✶ Pretending not to care. (Break it with a loss they can’t fake their way through.) ✶ Avoiding mirrors. (Break it with a quiet compliment that hits too hard.) ✶ Turning every conversation into a joke. (Break it with someone who doesn’t laugh.) ✶ Being everyone’s helper. (Break it when someone asks what they need, and waits for an answer.) ✶ Constantly saying “I’m fine.” (Break it when they finally scream that they’re not.) ✶ Running. Always running. (Break it with someone who doesn’t chase, but doesn’t leave, either.) ✶ Intellectualizing every feeling. (Break it with raw, messy emotion they can’t logic away.) ✶ Trying to be the strong one. (Break it when someone sees the weight they’re carrying, and offers to help.) ✶ Hiding behind success. (Break it when they succeed and still feel empty.) ✶ Avoiding conflict at all costs. (Break it when silence causes more pain than the truth.) ✶ Focusing on everyone else’s healing but their own. (Break it when they hit emotional burnout.)

I need this!

Chuckie plush is real!!! :D Been in the works for about a month now and he finally arrived today

Just a little off the top

From our French vacation

Nick passed the remnants of a luxury dealership showroom, its glass façade cracked but intact. Inside, bathed in golden light, stood a red car.

Sleek. Shiny. Perfect.

Nick stopped in his tracks.

The world around him faded a little bit.

He walked forward slowly, as if pulled by a string. His boots clicked softly against the tiles.

It looked like something out of a dream. Low to the ground, curved in all the right places, the kind of car that whispers to you.

He touched it.

Fingers brushed against the glossy hood, and a spark ran up his spine.

“I wonder how your engine runs…” he whispered, voice hushed like a confession.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

Back at the Wrench-O-Rama, Rhonda had caught him completely fixated on a customer’s custom motorcycle. He wasn’t just admiring it, he was, running his hands along the pipes, talking softly to it, murmuring improvements and redesigns.

She had to pry him away. He’d been breathless then too. Eyes glazed; heart racing, mind churning.

Machines and vehicles didn’t just fascinate Nick. They spoke to him.

Not literally, but in some intimate, spiritual way.

He could hear what they needed. Feel what they lacked. It was strange, more passion, less obsession.

But to those who saw it happen, it was unsettling to say the very least.

Nick stepped away, finally, his heart thumping madly as if he’d just run a sprint. He felt himself getting excited down there as well.

I can't wait

The next chapter of Sweet Heat Lightnin’ will focus on Rochelle’s backstory

cozy n colorful

🧸 🧸 🧸 🧸 🧸 🧸 🧸 🧸

bros... i just wanna say i LOVEE how u draw nick and dick they're so cutie cuties ummm idk why i keep forgetting to tell u🦘🌵💝💝

GUH GUH THABK YOUUU THANK YOUU UHM UHM WHIMPERS WHIMEPRS I think I have one more nick drawing in my phone uhmm

Yea thus was rhe last time I drew him 💔 I need to draw him again... honestly he's a pain to draw bc he's so cute and so ???? Ugly???? LIKE HES NOT UGLY BUT HE KINDA ISSS!!!???! BUR THANK YOU MOOT THANK YOUUU HII HII

This makes me very happy and I love how frank is freaking out it's perfect!

*swings pocket watch * oooo you are feeling very sleeeeeepy.... also you want to post frank west self ship art on main! It would be so cool and fun... (if ur comfortable doinf that that is!)

Oh woww... im so sleepy..... yawwnn...

And uhhmmmm 🥹🥹🥹 are you for eel...!! Do you really......!!!!??? Aahh ok..!! 🥹🥹🐟🫧🫧

I really really uhmmmm idk he makes me feel like the only shark in the world 🥹🦈🫧🪸

BUT THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET AAUGHH AJDNSIDNDKENDJ