#Open Lines of Communication

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[kidsinnowadays]

How to Build Strong Parent-Teacher Communication: 10 Tips for a Collaborative Relationship

Discover effective strategies to foster open and productive communication between parents and teachers, ensuring a collaborative approach to your child's education journey. #ParentTeacherCommunication #EducationPartnership #CollaborativeApproach #Parentin

Effective parent-teacher communication is a cornerstone of a child’s educational journey. When parents and teachers work together in harmony, children benefit from a more supportive and enriching learning environment. This article provides 10 valuable tips for fostering strong parent-teacher communication, creating a collaborative partnership that nurtures a child’s growth and…

[cr4yolaas]

my new big pet peeve is ppl writing nanami like a bland, formal old man. like no he isn’t exactly cheery but he isn’t super monotone either imo. i don’t think he’d bother excessively w the whole elegant or “floral” speech, nor do i think he’d be slower when it comes to things like gen z-esque convo or online trends. do i think he cares less abt these things and employs them less in regular convos?? yeah. do i think he IS gentlemanly and romantic to an extent?? absolutely. but i’m soo tired of the same “Darling, I’ve prepared you XYZ. Please be so kind as to…” script. don’t reduce my man to this </3

[vivsinkpot]

How to Craft an Unforgettable Opening Sentence

“Begin as you mean to go on—but with teeth.”

Your first sentence is more than a hook. It’s a promise: of tone, voice, tension, and style. So how do you make it bite?

Start with Movement or Mood

Drop the reader into something already happening—a flicker of tension, a sound, a change.

“The scream tore through the morning like a knife through silk.”

“By the time they noticed the blood on the floor, she was already gone.”

Ask yourself: What emotion do I want the reader to feel right away?

Start with a Contradiction

Use paradox to spark curiosity.

“Everyone said he was a good man. He wasn’t.”

“She had waited her whole life for this moment, and now she wanted to run.”

Contradiction = instant tension. The reader wants to know why.

Start After the Event

Let the fallout speak louder than the explosion.

“They buried the monster behind the chapel, but the ground never settled.”

“It took three days for the smell to fade.”

Hints of trauma, mystery, or aftermath can draw readers deeper than action ever could.

Let Voice Do the Work

If you’ve got a strong narrator, show it off in the first line.

“You’d think I’d be used to ghosts by now.”

“The last time I saw him, he was trying to steal a book from a priest.”

Voice tells the reader how this story will be told. Think attitude, rhythm, and perspective.

Don’t Waste Time Being Polite

Skip greetings. Skip the weather (unless it’s cursed). Skip “My name is…”

Instead of: “My name is Calliope and I live in the city of…”

Try: “They say beauty is a gift. I say it’s a curse.”

Jump into what matters. You can catch the reader up later—right now, you’re getting them hooked.

Your challenge: Write 3 first sentences for your WIP.

Make one moody, one voicey, and one full of contradiction. Then pick the one that won’t let you go.

Want feedback? Tag #vivsfirstlinechallenge and let’s read each other’s openings 💌

[nonchalantsimmer]

the new @maskxo set is sooooo cute the hat is a staple prepare to watch me overuse it ❤️

[paraonyx]

Behold! The winners of Inanimate Insanity!!!

I'm really really happy with how this turned out and I think I'm starting to understand my coloring with the characters better!

But yeah, wanted to do a little drawing of all the winners and their initials

[yyprompts]

🌙💙🤍

opening lines (for novels, fics, etc.)

The pain in their chest was particularly unbearable that night.

The officer knew it had to be a proxy murder, and just needed the evidence to prove it.

We've waited five years to meet, and finally, that magical time has arrived.

What made you come to hate me when I did all that I could for you?

He bolted down the street, darting past everyone at a pace that only hares could match.

The voice on the other end of the line was only a soulless song that, unfortunately, couldn't distract Muse from the reality at hand.

Even with the blood washed away, I can still see the stains of murder on my palms.

I'm the bird who fell from the nest the first time she tried to fly.

"The way I love you makes me act mad, sometimes." They swore.

"The afternoon that she died, where did you say you were again?" The interrogator asked, taking a sip of their coffee.

[faithful-freak]

massaging the beating heart of my live dissection patient whilst fucking into them with a matched rhythm

[plant-ago]

An Open Letter to Dan and Phil

Dear beloved nerds,

This was originally going to be an (even longer) actual letter that I was going to give to you at the tour, but my nonprofit-employed ass can’t afford a meet and greet, so we’re doing this instead. I promise it’s not just trauma dumping— mostly, it’s about saying thank you and trying to cultivate some hope for all of us.

I’ve been a big fan since around 2014, when I was a mentally ill neurotic deeply repressed loner egg (average phannie, let's be honest). Now I’m a whole adult who got therapy and HRT and has joined the legions of transmascs with the Dan Howell haircut! What a legacy.

I’m making jokes because the thing I actually want to talk about, and the reason I decided to make this an open letter, is kind of serious. But in light of the election, I feel like I need to share this, both with you and with all the other queers in this little corner of the internet.

Here’s the gist: I’m a paralegal at a non-profit organization that works to help queer migrants get asylum. Mostly what I do is sit them down in our nasty sterile office and try to be kind, and help them get through telling me all the most terrible things that have happened to them, and then turn around and pare it all down into legalese that is digestible to the government to make the case they should get asylum.

It’s a horrible job, really, and one that shouldn’t have to exist. Some parts are plainly wonderful, like meeting so many queer people from all walks of life. But it’s also heartrending and difficult, and burnout is always looming. My horrible banal work is often literally a matter of life and death for the client, and I’m fighting a broken system for a chance at giving them the happiness and safety is owed to them by international law and, really, by any decent human standard, should never have been in question.

The thing is—and this is reason to hope—queer people really do exist everywhere, no matter how much repression and violence we face. In a tiny village in Colombia, there's a kid who’s all spit and vinegar, dresses like a boy and plays football and fights anyone who says that they can’t, who grows up wiry and gets black eyes because men still can’t handle getting their asses handed to them on the soccer field by a dyke. This client texts me at my work number sometimes to ask if I’ve eaten that day, because they wanted to check in on me. He asked me to call him by a boy’s name, recently. I don’t know that he’s told anyone else. I open every message I send him with "Hola, James."

Then there’s the sweet, babyfaced college freshman who got death threats when he was outed to his classmates back home, and whose parents kicked him out when he refused to marry a girl to protect the family's reputation, leaving him alone in a foreign country. He was couch surfing and just trying not to miss class so he could keep his student status and he was so conscientious I wanted to cry— he’s eighteen, guys. Eighteen. I’ll get him his papers or so help me fucking God I will kill for him. You know? You know. After that meeting I had to sit at my desk with my notebook and fill an entire blank page with the phrase “he’s just a kid,” over and over again, until I felt like I could breathe.

On a Friday morning recently I get up and open my laptop to interpret on a call with a soft-spoken older trans woman who's sat in the bleak phone room of the ICE detention facility because her immigration judge didn’t believe that she was really transgender. “An odor of mendacity pervades everything the respondent says,” the judge wrote in her ruling, where she determined the client wasn't "credible." To this day I’m still floored that she straight up ripped off Tennessee Williams—new frontiers in bigotry, truly. She didn’t even cite. In our meeting now, the client quietly tells us how hard it was when she came out but how happy she was the first time she wore makeup, and she'd rather stay in detention here for indeterminate years as proceedings spiral on than go back to Guatemala, where they'll kill her—boys, if I ever get within spitting distance of this fuckass judge, it is on SIGHT. Absolutely fucking ON SIGHT. For legal purposes, that was a JOKE.

So I finish the call and get up to get a snack. It’s only ten am but feel tired already because I’m angry, which is not unusual but also not something I want to hold onto, because it doesn't help anything. So I make some toast and look at my phone— two texts, which I ignore, a spam email, and, wouldn't you know it, a YouTube notification from Dan and Phil games! Jarring! That’s just sort of how life is though, isn’t it? Deathly serious and lighthearted in the same breath.

But regardless, seeing the notification makes me feel warm, so I have my toast and watch a little video of you two playing Roblox or dress up or whatever it is you do on that channel these days. I have a good giggle and I finish my toast and go back to my desk. It’s a crucial part of my diet really— the giggles, not the toast. I’m not angry anymore. I’ll be angry again, but for now my cortisol levels are manageable and I can put my head back into emails or whatever the fuck. Do you ever think about how plants make food for free out of sunlight but we sit around writing emails all day? And that’s if we’re lucky. Capitalism is hell.

Anyway, there is a point I am trying to make, and it’s not really about the banal horrors of neoliberal nation-state or capitalism or even homophobia. It’s to say thank you for coming back to make silly videos together, because I love them, and you never fail to make me happy. And yeah, maybe something about the story of that scared eighteen-year-old kid at the front of my mind makes it particularly sweet to watch you two goofing off and being openly queer. It reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing, and it gives me the strength to send another fucking email because sometimes doing “important work that I value and believe in deeply” means having to send another fucking email. And sometimes I’ll rewatch your older videos, and then come back to the more recent ones, and my heart bruises, because you remind me what I’m fighting for and why. It’s nothing grandiose, it’s just— for queer people to get to have the ability to grow into themselves and be outrageous and silly and make mistakes and to love and be loved for who they are. To have the safety and support and security that no one should ever go without. That’s all.

So I am being dead serious when I say thank you for making top-tier light entertainment, and for coming back to a job that wasn’t always kind to you, and that it does actually matter. All this talk about terrible influences and legacies has made me think that sometimes you doubt whether you do good in the world, so let me be clear: you really, really do. I kind of get the sense that in order to accept sincerity Dan needs to be beat over the head with it, so if that’s the case, consider yourself coerced, you dickhead. You matter to me, and especially in times like these, I think I speak for all of us when I say that the joy you share is a precious and treasured gift. So please accept my gratitude in return.

All my love,

Jules

(I removed or changed all identifying information in this letter to protect privacy, but the stories are real).

[not-so-superheroine]

[tahbhie]

How do you develop your opening lines?

I LOVE this question and have been waiting for it. I won't get overdramatic, but I understand how crucial opening lines are—they can either ignite or extinguish our inspiration for a project.

Before diving into how to develop opening lines, let's consider the qualities we're aiming for. Opening lines should pack a punch, set a promising tone, and hook readers beyond the first page.

Now that we've established that, let's look at the different forms opening lines can take:

Emotional

Practical

Straight to the point

Dramatic

Action lines

Dialogue technique

I can't exhaustively cover each form in a single blog post, but understand that each works better for certain genres and can be interchangeable in exceptional cases.

If you wish to learn more, consider joining my group. I'll be running events soon where I'll discuss topics like this with interested writers. You'll find the link below.

One last thing: no one, absolutely no one, can or should determine what your opening lines should be. You have to figure that out yourself after understanding the forms you can use to your advantage. Remember how I said it can shut down our inspiration? Well, opening lines come from inspiration.

"If the opening line doesn't set the tone for you when you write, it can't set the tone for your readers when they read."

Looking for a supportive community dedicated to helping you grow as a writer? Join the Writers Universe server and thrive!

[sir-gale]

Commissions still open on Ko-Fi! Both Line Art and Full colour, SFW and NSFW, check out the different options!

[candy-goat]

Opening my commissions!! Dm for more info :}

[theeccentricraven]

9 Lines, 9 People ✍️

Thank you @winterandwords for the tag here 💐

Rules: Share nine lines from your story and tag nine people

From The Blood Cleaners

“He’s right.” She stepped up to Justin, putting her mouth to his ear. “Tell him what you told me.” Justin smugly gestured to Jeff. “You tell him.” Joselyn puffed her cheeks, a little embarrassed, but stepped forward. “Jeff, you’re not weak. Just struggling. Don’t give up.”

Tagging (no pressure to join): @forthesanityofstorytellers @gioia-writes-and-others @agirlandherquill @ieppiq @sunflowerrosy

@leahnardo-da-veggie @fairy-tales-of-yesterday @kitty-is-writing @kitkins13

[aalinaaaaaa]

Ten Opening Lines Tag

Thanks to @ark-inkweaving for the tag!

Rules: list the first line of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you noticed yourself, and see if anyone else notices any.

These lines are all coming from my ten previous Flash Fiction Friday pieces, starting with the most recent one! :D

—

These Vows Renewed

The Chalice stood upon the table. Glistening.

Prayers for a Spark

Another day, another boat, the same shoreline.

Stab in the Dark

“Why haven’t you done it yet?”

Impending Eclipse

Meals were but a dance of droppings and thievery.

The Crow's Gift

Blessed not the lake that stagnates.

Don't Lose Feathers Over It

Ufaull’s musician plucked strings for the sacrifice.

Deadly Proposition

Poison had a taste to it.

No Good Choices

“Shari, why does Dad leave us every Solstice?”

A Toast to Tomorrow's Problem

“Who’s to say for another round?”

A Thesis in Bloodlust

Nepheret had blood to pay.

Seeing as all these came from flash fiction, words were at a premium for such pieces, hence why they're all so short. A lot of them are either thesis statements for the core theme or concept of the piece, a line to set the start of the scene or they're a link with another part of that particular plotline. Some of these start with dialogue, and more broadly a lot of them invoke some sort of sensory detail (sound and visuals are the most predominant).

Notably, the opener for Deadly Proposition was a subtle reference to what would've happened had Nepheret succeeded in his goal, as well as it implying alcohol.

Meanwhile, the line for Don't Lose Feathers Over It is a parallel to the opening line for Fading Swansong. The only difference is in who is plucking the strings! xD

—

Here's an open tag for everyone to share their opening lines, plus @seastarblue @winterandwords @drippingmoon @thatndginger @thepeculiarbird @bardic-tales @nightmaricwriter @spideronthesun and @tryingtimi

[anemicjellyfish]

Saw the merch and immediately thought about this line from Ghostfuckers. Blitzø wants Moxxie so bad