Lessons On Compelling Slow-burn And Pinning Romances:

Lessons on compelling slow-burn and pinning romances:

- almost always start of hating each other and the audience finds their mutual hatred believable, justifiable

- as they spend more time together (usually through forced alliance or proximity) they start to unlearn their preconceptions of each other (like wow I had painted you an asshole but you’re actually not that bad or you had a real reason for being such a prick and maybe I should have given you the benefit of the doubt)

- during this getting to know each other beyond first impressions and misconceptions phase it is illuminated that they have similar experiences, wounds or trauma

- when the eventual physical intimacy starts to build, it is teased and often cut abruptly before they are able to really talk about how they feel (increasing plot points usually are the cockblockers lol)

- they spend time alone/are separated after copulating, evaluating what the sudden change or profession implies to their dynamic. Evaluating how their relationship has transformed and weather they are at peace with this change

Important to not just make their relationship founded on physical attraction or lust (that’s a weak dynamic). Sure it can start as that suppressed lust for each other but if stays just physical it shows no character progression and just falls flat.

It is far more interesting when you couple the physical attraction with the discomfort of working through emotional obstacles, fears, blocked and unlearning limiting beliefs. (Think push and pull, building tension between a carnal want and innate response to run away from that which makes them uncomfortable).

(Notes come from my recent obsession with Holly Black’s The Cruel Prince trilogy and Prime’s “My Lady Jane”)

"risk" is the song for the girlies who love too soon and too deeply, the girlies who live in extremes, the ones that can never be casual about a crush, or an interest or a hobby, the ones that let it consume them and transform them. the ones with a vivid imagination that bests them, the blaringly delusion kind that joke about their own delusion all the while a glimmer of hope twinkles somewhere deep in that staged smile. the ones that hold out for the "what if" for the silver lining and the glasses that are half-full instead of half-empty.

the ones that act on impulse, wearing their bleeding heart on their sleeve and know that though they might come to reflect on the brazenness of that impulsivity they don't ever really regret taking the leap.

the ones that "fall in love" with just about every human they meet, finding the traits they long for in others and ascending them to pedestals. the ones that have too much love to give but fear being known and loved in return with as much fervor. the mortifying ordeal of being known, you know? clashing with the intense desire to experience ground-shattering love. they probably have an avoidant or anxious attachment style and struggle accepting the love others might want to give them; fear of intimacy that spawns from a deep-rooted fear of rejection and abandonment.

-written by a "risk" girl, herself

LADY JANE GREY & LORD GUILDFORD DUDLEY — 1.07 "Another Girl, Another Planet"

romance is for the fictional realms

its somewhat equal counterpart in the realm of reality is financial stability

I covet both but since I abide in reality, I am only ever allowed to work towards financial stability.

This heroine gets the plot without the satisfaction of the sweet romantic lead to whisk them away when things get tough.

Messages I won’t send :(

nostalgia is a bitten fruit left to rot on the ground

remembrance of a more innocent time

a boundless time, during which evenings seemed to last forever in their low lit yellow

my eldest cousin used to climb the neighbor’s tree and throw rose-apples down at us to eagerly catch. after having ran, exploring every strip of the neighborhood - our little kingdom - we’d ravenously bite into the pink flesh of the fruit.

It’s been decades now but if I close my eyes and focus on the suspended memory, I swear I can almost taste that first bite, can almost feel the flowery aroma of the fruit flood my nostrils as my jaw clenches down.