#writing practice

[ofcharactersandplayers]

I did not ask to get called out like this.

I want to be a better writer, but it's hard when it's:

• 5% cool shit that you think of

• 95% filler to justify the cool shit

[daily-prompts]

Start a paragraph with this sentence:

I should never have come here, but I had to find out . . .

[echo-temporis]

[Text ID:

The Sound of Silence

They both vowed never to fall in love again. Yet here they were. Across the small, sticky table sat Jack. She had known him since the days they used to run around her grandma’s lawn, but decades later, Jack’s silence felt new to her. He hadn't spoken since they sat down. It wasn't a rude or awkward silence. It actually felt religious. Although both of them weren’t.

His hands were a study in contradiction. Large, scarred, and strong. But Jack held his coffee cup with a delicate, almost fragile, care. A small island of skin on his knuckle, she noticed, was a shade darker than the rest of his hand. His eyes were the same color as the waitresses’ uniforms; they were fixed on a point just over her shoulder, seeing something she couldn't. She became a witness to his stillness; to the way a muscle in his jaw jumped as Carol, their waitress, moved toward them like a tired ghost.

When she topped off their coffees, the clang of the ceramic mug against the saucer was a jarring note in the quiet room. Jack flinched, but with a precise, almost imperceptible tremor that ran from his shoulders down to his fingers. It was a reaction so contained, so practiced, that she thought it was a language in itself, more romantic than the French. His eyes, though still averted, seemed to recede further into his skull. He simply stirred his coffee.

Then, the front door burst open. A group of students erupted into the diner. Their laughter was a chaotic, unfiltered sound; a series of short, sharp blows that seemed to shatter the still air they had been living in. She saw Jack’s hands on the table. They did not move, but the skin around his knuckles drew taut, holding on to the cup tighter. He did not look at the children. Instead, his gaze flickered for one fleeting moment to her face. In his eyes, she glimpsed a flash of recognition, and they were transported back to her grandma’s kitchen, drinking iced tea and taking another slice of her pecan pie; sweat running down their back. Then, just as quickly, the moment passed. He looked back down at his coffee cup; his silence, a shield he had perfected for years—the years of her absence.]

~ Writing Exercise by @novlr: The Sound of Silence ~

[fandom-lore]

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. Prompts . ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

⤷ ゛Betrayal Dialogue (Betrayee) ˎˊ˗

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"I thought we meant more to you."

"It's me! Why don't you care?"

"Please, help me."

"Character A, I don't want to die."

"Don't do this. I'm begging you."

"Just like that? After everything?"

"If you walk away I'll kill you."

"I should have known. It was stupid to trust you."

"I can help you, you don't have to do this."

────────── ୨୧ ──────────

I accept all of my prompts for requests. If you comment on this I will always send you one (if you're a writing blog dw). Probably anoymously, so it's a secret whether it's actually me or not 🤭. Best of luck with your writing darlings!

xoxo,

Lore

[charitysstories]

Love this!

Seasonal Prompts

Spring

Spring Vibes

March Prompts 🍀

April Prompts 🐞

May Prompts 🌺

Valentine’s Day Prompts

Summer

Summer Vibes

June Prompts 🌼

July Prompts 🌴

August Prompts 🍋

Summer Prompts

Sunshine Prompts

Song Vibes: Summertime Sadness

Fall

Fall Vibes

Fall AUs

September Prompts 🌻

October Prompts 🎃

November Prompts 🍂

Halloween Throwbacks

Things to do on Halloween

Spooktober 2020 Prompts

Spooktober 2021 Prompts

Spooktober 2023 Prompts

Romantic Fall Date Ideas

Winter

Winter Vibes

December Prompts 🌟

January Prompts 🎉

February Prompts 🌹

24 Days of Gift-Giving - Advent Calendar

Christmas AU (1)

Christmas AU (2)

1. Advent Special Prompts

2. Advent Special Prompts

3. Advent Special Prompts

4. Advent Special Prompts

Fluffy Winter Holiday Prompts

New Year’s Eve Prompts

New Year’s Dialogue Prompts

Ice Skating Prompts

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[writers-potion]

how do you write a liar?

How to Write Liars Believably

Language

The motive of every goal is the make the lie seem plausible while taking blame off the speaker, so liars will often project what they say to a third party: "Katie said that..."

Referring to third parties as "they" rather than he or she

In the case of a deliberate lie prepped beforehand, there will be an overuse of specific names (rather than pronouns) as the speaker tries to get the details right.

Overuse of non-committal words like "something may have happened"

Masking or obscuring facts like "to the best of my knowledge" and “it is extremely unlikely," etc.

Avoiding answers to specific, pressing questions

Voice

There's isn't a set tone/speed/style of speaking, but your character's speech patten will differ from his normal one.

People tend to speak faster when they're nervous and are not used to lying.

Body Language

Covering their mouth

Constantly touching their nose

fidgeting, squirming or breaking eye contact

turning away, blinking faster, or clutching a comfort object like a cushion as they speak

nostril flaring, rapid shallow breathing or slow deep breaths, lip biting, contracting, sitting on your hands, or drumming your fingers. 

Highly-trained liars have mastered the art of compensation by freezing their bodies and looking at you straight in the eye.

Trained liars can also be experts in the art of looking relaxed. They sit back, put their feet up on the table and hands behind their head.

For deliberate lies, the character may even carefully control his body language, as though his is actually putting on a show

The Four Types of Liars

Deceitful: those who lie to others about facts

2. Delusional: those who lie to themselves about facts

3. Duplicitious: those who lie to others about their values

Lying about values can be even more corrosive to relationships than lying about facts. 

4. Demoralized: those who lie to themselves about their values

Additional Notes

Genuine smiles or laughs are hard to fake

Exaggerations of words (that would normally not be emphasized) or exaggerated body language

Many savvy detectives ask suspects to tell the story in reverse or non-linear fashion to expose a lie. They often ask unexpected, or seemingly irrelevant questions to throw suspects off track. 

[marsplastic13]

I LOVE that part of editing that requires me to act it all out and see if it's actually how two humans would interact

[wherethebare]

Volunteering at the old folks' home wasn't originally something you did every weekend. If you ended up with no plans by the end of the week, volunteering was the trick to get you out of the house. It was simple work, and after a couple of visits, everyone there warmed up to you. But what made you consistently visit every weekend was Mr. Withers.

Any chance you got to peer over at Mr. Withers, you took it. He was a sight to behold, a muscular marvel. Had muscles in places you didn't think was possible, and your curiosity in how he manages to stay as fit as someone younger than him led you to try and be around him at any opportunity.

The only thing he really needed was a spotter as, surprise surprise, he was quite capable of doing things himself. It made you wonder why he was here, but nonetheless, you were always ready to help at a moment's notice. And seemingly, that's what he liked about you. He never said it out loud, but considering he knew exactly when to call you over to spot and what to wear to garner a reaction out of you, there was a mutual understanding that you guys enjoyed each other's company.

Today's workout went almost the same as others. Mr. Withers went through the same workout he normally goes through, but this time, he was very amped up as he ended his workout. Where he would stow away his equipment, he instead leaped over to his full body mirror and reveled in his after workout pump. You followed over and watched as he flexed everything he could. Biceps, triceps, lats, traps, pecs. If it could be flexed, it was. And he was elated.

Seeing him happy made you happy, and it reminded you of the reason you were here in the first place. Admittedly, it made you happy in other areas as well, but you were more focused on Mr. Withers' happiness.

What happened next is what baffled you.

Mr. Withers' body began to grow. Specifically, his muscles began to inflate. It was unnatural. The first place that made a noticeable change were his abs. It was like each visible ab he had combined and created a solid gut that continued to expand forward. His pecs followed suit, slowly inflating to the size of volleyballs. Both muscle groups on his torso fought for space, squishing together to the point where they seemed to grow in sync.

His arms grew with each flex. The hills that were his biceps turned to mountains, giving his arm an almost fat appearance, although it was pure muscle.

All of this was extremely euphoric to you as something out of a dream was happening in front of your eyes. Looking towards Mr. Withers' face, you can see he also shared the same feelings and possibly more.

As the growth slowed down, he turned to you with a crazed look. You gave his body a look over. Everything bulged and rounded out, giving him a very wide look similar to that of a strongman.

With your eyes still on him, he moved his now gigantic arms down the sides of his gut, rubbing it a very sensual way. His hands ended up under his gut as he hefted it up for you, shaking it as a way to beckon you closer. You took the obvious bait and walked over.

Being one step away from colliding with the wall of mass that was your senior, you stopped. He shook his gut hard on last time, letting it go and allowing it to jiggle on his body. Your eyes were glued to it as it almost put you in a trance.

Stapping you out of it, Mr. Withers put his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. It's now apparent that his growth spurt affected another area on his body, and by the looks of it, it's eagerly waiting for your attention.

You looked up to see him smiling at you. You smiled back as it was clear to you that you found something else to help Mr. Withers with.

A huge bricklayer (unknown source).

[ruesol]

bodyguard!nanami does not give a shit if the paparazzi thinks he’s your new boy toy. He exists only to make sure that you’re safe. What the world thinks of you and him is secondary. His thought process frustrates you.

On one hand, you have your husband, who left you all alone on your anniversary trip for an unforeseen call from work, and on the other, you have your bodyguard who guides you in public places with a large hand stamped on the small of your back.

The conflict in your mind is agonizing to deal with, the summer heat getting to your cognition. And it gets even more difficult when Nanami tries his best to blend in with the crowd at the beach by being shirtless.

Your husband tells you not to worry about the tabloids that’ll come out later, saying that he’ll pay them off to buried by other juicy stories. In all honesty, it doesn’t sound like he cares all that much.

Complaints seldom rose about Nanami. He was acting like the husband you deserved.

In your mind, Nanami was replacing the man who was lawfully bound to you.

Everything comes just so easy with him. He taste tests every drink you’re served in case it’s been tampered with before he brings the beverage to your lips. He checks the straps on your heels, and carries flats with him so you don’t trip during your long walks around the city. And he stands with his chest pressed up against your back in crowded spaces so you never stray away.

It’s all for your safety. “Protecting the womb of the heir of our company,” as your irksome mother-in-law would say.

So why is it that kissing him feels wrong even after finding out that your husband has been cheating on you long before you got married.

Why does it feel wrong when Nanami carries you over to your bed, both your senses a little hazy, and lays you down so he can take you like your husband never had?

It shouldn’t because two people have never fit together so well. Not when he’s been praying to every god that by miracle, his fate would intertwine with yours no matter how long it would take.

[oven3bird]

Watching Tim is addictive. Kon can't help himself, he just focuses on him and ignores what's happening around them.

No matter if the world is ending, Tim's behaviour doesn't change; the tilted head while he's thinking, the long fingers tracing a pattern with a rhythm Kon has learned by heart, the slight smile he gets when he finally thinks a plan is perfect.

Kon watches Tim and feels back home, even when he didn't know what home felt like, he knew his boy wonder was safe, warm, a weighted blanket shielding him from the world.

He hums along to Tim's steady pulse, it's his favorite song.

[unknownwriter404]

All of my writing is slow burn...

Not because I want it to be, I just suck at pacing, lmao

[imnottkyle]

Box Dye Professional - A Solivan Burgmansia x GN!Reader FluffFic!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI

Tags Kinda?: TKaTB VN, Solivan Burgmansia, Sol, fluff, kinda weird in some parts tbh, gender-neutral reader/no mention of reader's gender.

Warnings: It's Sol, so yeah... However, this fic is fluff, so no warnings really, just Sol gets a little weird over being near Reader.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Meowdy folks, your newest TKaTB fic writer has arrived! I am so totally hyped to be writing again, and I hope that you have as much fun reading my fics as I have writing them. This is actually my first fic in SEVEN years, so please have mercy ｡･(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣ ꞈ˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

If you're still reading my intro here, I would like to let you in on a special tidbit! I am now starting a Stalker!Reader x Sol fic yayayayayay!! I just think it would be amazeballs to see someone outfreak his freak. Okay, I'll shut up and let you read <3

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Fingers moving nimbly with the charcoal, you sketched away at your muse, sharp eyes taking in his every detail. You told yourself it was simply because you wanted a good grade for this project, that you wanted to prove the authenticity of the piece, that those brief moments of eye contact didn't make your heart jump. Get a grip, you had only known Sol for a few weeks (even if it felt like a lifetime), now was not the time to start crushing. As you continued to scratch at the paper, your mind couldn't help but fall back to the reason you were here in the first place; your father, your home.

"___…?"

You startled, nearly causing the pencil to streak a nasty gash across your paper. "Sorry, what was that?" You asked, full gaze on your subject. "Something on your mind?" He answered, relaxing out of his pose for a quick stretch. "Oh, it's nothing, just got to daydreaming aga-" The sentence trailed off, your eyes sneaking off to peek at the bit of skin that showed when he stretched. No, stop it eyes, focus! Quickly pretending to notice a stray bit of fuzz on his shirt, you pointed it out, successfully hiding your wandering glance. Sol let out a soft chuckle as he picked off the fuzz, "So quick to notice the smallest things, aren't you? It's quite charming." he murmured rather gently. "Oh yeah, just like how I can't help but notice your hair dye is fading awfully! Tell me where you got it done so I know never to go there." You playfully retorted. The green-streaked, or rather yellow-green streaked, man groaned out loud, hiding his face in his hands.

"Is it really that noticeable?"

"Yep."

"Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have tried a different dye. I guess it really is that bad, huh?"

Okay, now you just felt bad for teasing him in the first place, that embarrassed expression that he wore, only tugging at your heartstrings further.

"Well, I was staring at you pretty hard- er -for the sketch, I mean. Maybe it isn't that noticeable from afar."

It was definitely noticeable from afar, but there was no way that you were going to say that to his face. You took a breath, a flash of brilliant courage (or maybe stupidity) overtaking you. The sketchbook and charcoal fell into your lap as you leaned in closer to your classmate, "Um, if you aren't doing anything later, maybe I could help you fix your hair. I'm somewhat of a bathroom salon pro." At this, you saw Sol's face brighten, "R-Really? That'd be nice, thanks." he smiled, voice soft. "Just shoot me a text when you're on your way, and I'll get everything set up. You beamed back, heart already pitter-pattering way more than necessary.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Your bathroom looked stupid. It was as if you became painfully aware of every wonky detail in your entire apartment. Two of the shower tiles were crooked, there was a weird blue stain on the floor, and the sink had lime growing on the edge. You had tried everything to get rid of the lime buildup, but in the end you had given up and just accepted the shit. So why now of all times, did it bother you so badly? Was it because Sol was on his way? Was it because you were afraid he would notice and think you were a slob? Why did it even matter in the first place, he was just your classmate, just your project partner.

Lime- 1

Your Idiot Brain- 1

You- 0

For the millionth time, you wished that you would listen to your own advice and calm down. It's not like Sol would even think anything of this, you were just being a good friend and helping him out. You let out a groan and simultaneously heard a knock at the door. Collecting as much of yourself as you could, you headed to the door, opening it to reveal your crush's classmate's handsome face.

"Hey Sol, got the goods?"

"Of course."

He held up the shopping bag, giving it a little shake. You grinned, this was certainly going to be a fun evening. "Well don't just stand there, come in, silly!" You said, before practically dragging him inside the apartment by his sleeve. Whatever nerves you had before had nearly dissipated, leaving you to feel rather giddy. Hair dyeing was fun, you would know. Having done this countless times to your own head, you found the whole process to be rather therapeutic, a welcome metamorphosis. You could have sworn that Sol had mumbled something as you dragged him along, though when you looked back on him, he simply smiled. Wait, was he blushing? It was then that you realized how tightly you had gripped his sleeve, fingers brushing dangerously against his wrist.

"Oh, god, sorry." You loosened your grip, allowing him to regain his left hand.

"It's okay." He replied, setting the grocery bag down on the bathroom counter.

How you wished you had a clock or something, because right now the awkward silence was, well, awkward. Seeing him just stand there suddenly reminded you of something, "Oh wait here, I'll get you a chair!" you spun out the doorway only to reappear a second later, "Did you want anything else? Water, snacks? I have some chips and um, fruit snacks…?" Maybe this whole hosting thing wasn't exactly made for you. Sol, however, didn't seem to mind your scatterbrain, chuckling once more before replying, "A glass of water sounds nice." he rose to his feet, ready to follow you. Aaand now you found yourself panicking, as to whether or not you had somehow left your stinky socks in the cupboard.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

There was now a man in your kitchen. The way he so easily reached into your high cupboards was honestly kind of impressive. Men were like cows, or semi-trucks, you forget how big they are until you see one up close. Or maybe you were just weird and lonely. "Oh, don't drink the tap water, it tastes funny." You interjected, quickly grabbing a water jug from the refrigerator, before extending your hand to take the glass Sol was holding. Once more, you couldn't help but be acutely aware of your fingers brushing against his as you took the glass, heart fluttering at the contact. Pouring the water, suddenly became a very serious task, your eyes focused like lasers, hands steady and balanced. This might be the most perfect glass of water you had ever poured. Handing him the glass, you spun around to place the water jug back in the fridge, quickly taking note of what all it contained in case Sol got hungry later.

It was your cup, or at least a cup that you had used at some point. Your lips had once been pressed to the cool glass, perhaps even at the same spot his were pressed to now. Your lips, your thirst, how he wanted to be pressed up against you, easing your craving.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Good grief, he must have been parched, the way he chugged the water down. You quickly offered him another glass, but he declined, strange. Back to the bathroom it was, unboxing the dye and getting things set up. It was decided that you would sit on the chair, Sol taking a seat on the ground (you gave him a cushion, of course) so you could better see his hair. Shaking the bottle of dye, you broke off the seal and squeezed some directly on his head. You felt the man jolt, "So, no instructions?" he asked, pointing at the instruction sheet that now lay in the trash. "Just trust me." You declared, using your bare hands to work the dye into his hair. Now this action caused Sol to whip around abruptly, "___!! Your hands are gonna be stained if you do it like this! Why don't you use the gloves!?" You groaned, grabbing onto his head, gently trying to guide him back into position, "It's fine, besides, the gloves just inhibit my amazing abilities." You gave yourself a grin, you were a seasoned professional after all! Well, you still had hair on your head, so that had to mean something.

"So, do you usually do this on your own?"

"Mm, yeah, sometimes Hyugo helps out."

"Oh that's nice. I almost feel bad for taking his place right now, except I'm having too much fun."

You let out a giggle, waving your green, stained hands in front of Sol's face. He simply turned back at you and smiled, "You're so reckless."

Your hands matched his hair. Your hands matched his hair. And they would be stained like that for a few days. Stained like him, marked to match him, branded as his.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A few more squeezes of hair dye, and even more idle chatting, it was nice really. Gently running your fingers through Sol's hair, making sure each faded highlight was coated evenly with fresh green pigment, it was soothing. However, you found yourself scooting your chair closer every few minutes, as if Sol was somehow sliding away. Oh, that's right, the cushion. It was just a random pillow, actually, which turned out to be quite slippery on the bathroom floor. You let out a small huff of frustration before scooting closer one final time. Thighs spread apart, Sol sat in between them as they pressed against his shoulders, firmly locking him in place. You heard a small mumble escape the man's lips, it sounded like a curse, but you didn't bother to pry.

"Sorry, but you aren't running away so easily." You chuckled, teasingly tugging at a dye-soaked strand of his hair.

"Whatever you say, pumpkin." He murmured with a returned chuckle, though there was little he could do to hide the heat in his voice.

"Hmph, atta boy."

Cheeks flushed, you were never so glad that Sol couldn't see your face. Pumpkin, that stupid nickname he had given you a while back. It was cheesy, but for some reason, you found yourself enjoying it, a rather endearing feeling. Your gaze softened as you tenderly stroked Sol's hair, the warm feeling in your chest only blossoming more. He had been one of your first friends this year, one of the only friends you had actually made on your own. A leap of faith, a single rooftop lunch, a chance at being partnered with this man, had quickly turned into some of your most treasured memories. And now you had started to question yourself; was this love at first sight?

Haah.. The way your fingers tangled in his hair, the gentle tug at it, fuck. The scent of you, snaking around him as he knelt between your thighs, clamping him in place. Your presence was inescapable, all-consuming, just the way he liked it.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"You look like a seaweed monster!" You giggled, standing in the mirror next to your dye-soaked friend. He simply frowned in reply, "And you look like a sea urchin."

"Huh? That doesn't make an-!!"

You were cut off abruptly as Sol yanked you close, tousling your hair with his hand. Satisfied, he pulled away, now examining the both of you in the mirror. "A seaweed monster and his little urchin." He teased, smiling at your disheveled reflection. "Idiot, now my hair is all messed up!" It was a false protest, your face betraying you, a heavy blush now spreading to your ears. Sol was so close, you couldn't help but inhale his scent, feel the warmth radiating off his body, and hear the rapid beating of his heart. It was beating just as fast as your own, and somehow it seemed as if it was in perfect sync. Could it be that Sol felt just as nervous as you did? That he perhaps harbored a small crush of his own?

"Uh, let's get you rinsed off, I think the dye might be seeping into your brain…"

"Huh?"

"Never mind!!"

You quickly extracted yourself from his space, smoothing out your hair, and instantly feeling the chill of your apartment once again. Had it always been this cool in here? After a brief crash course on how to use the extendable shower head, you let Sol rinse his hair on his own while you tidied the rest of the bathroom. A few moments later, his green-streaked head popped back up, wet bangs covering his eyes. "Uh, ___? Can you pass me the towel?" You handed him a towel as he pushed the bangs from his face, beads of water running down his pretty face. Focus, focus, focus! Judging by Sol's raised eyebrow and flushed expression, you were pretty sure your jaw was somewhere on the ground right then.

"Er, sorry…!"

"N-No it's fine!"

"I'd let you look at me like that all day if you wanted~"

"Did you-?"

"Hm? No, it's nothing!"

The man smiled back in reply, rubbing his hair with the towel.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You had brushed his wet locks, dried his hair with your blow dryer, the same one you've used since middle school, and sent him on his way. The apartment was silent now, save for the sound of your heart pounding against your ribs. You were sprawled out on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, completely alone, and yet the faint scent of Sol seemed to cradle you no matter where you moved. He smelled like soap, laundry, almost sterile. But underneath that all there was a hint of a woody musk and, oddly enough, a sweet, candy-like smell. Maybe he had a thing for sweets. What kind of sweets did he like? What kind of foods did he like? What was his favorite flavor? You wanted to know more about him, everything about him. There was no point in fighting it, you gave in, curling up into your blankets as if they could somehow offer protection from your own realization. You liked Sol. You really liked him.

[novlr]

Writing Exercise: The Sound of Silence

Write a scene featuring a character who does not speak at all. This can be by choice, circumstance, or nature. Despite their silence, you need to communicate their emotions, intentions, and presence through everything but dialogue.

Using body language, facial expressions, actions, and reactions, this exercise will sharpen your ability to show emotion and character through behaviour, rather than speech. It will also help you develop subtext through action.

[daily-prompts]

A man buys an AI companion for his aging mother, but before he knows it, they begin plotting to disrupt is life. What's their plan and how does he discover it? What's he going to do about it?

[echo-temporis]

A quick writing exercise inspired by @luna-azzurra's prompt: them absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve because they want to touch you but aren’t ready to say it yet.