𝐀𝐝𝐲𝐭𝐮𝐦

Caves are weirder and more varied than you think

My, my...

365 days...

Sounds about right.

Starting... tomorrow.

YOU— YEAH YOU! DO THIS THING WITH ME!

THIS IS YOUR AGGRESSIVE SIGN TO CREAT EVERY DAY FOR ONE YEAR.

Okokokokok so the goal is essentially what I said above. Write/draw something every day for a year. I know that sounds like A LOT but even if you can spare 2 minutes in your day to quickly scrible something into your notes app that's perfect.

Why should you bother with this?

You will end up at 365 pieces by the end of the year

you will improve your skills

you are bound to find some gold

even if you miss 1/3 of the days you will still have 243 things!!!

helps you be more in tune with your feeling (especially if you treat it like a journal)

you can try out different styles in a judgement free zone

uhhhh you love me

you will learn how to be more creative

you will have content to post on your blog/publish/submit to contests

you will have something to keep you going/motivated

you won't be alone

AND LOTS OF OTHERS I DONT HAVE TIME FOR

So this is your sign to write with me

(don't worry about starting on the same day just start making stuff)

I will be posting the things I write on @rheas-poetry-motivation

JOIN ME 🫵

Tagging people for reach and cause i love my moots:

@mister-dirty-hands, @bamb1fawn, @outromoony, @themortalityofundyingstars, @garden-of-runar

@ancientpokemonrock, @ang3lic-t3ars, @justiceforplutoo, @albatris, @gayafaaryn

@lorelangdon, @imastoryteller, @chaoticcandle, @gildy-locks, @jamespotterbbg

@seekmemystar, @tequilaqueen, @picklerab23, @a-k-oblackhat, @leahnardo-da-veggie

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. 

words to use instead of running?

Running—to go faster than a walk

Barreling - to move at a high speed or without hesitation

Blazing - of outstanding power, speed, heat, or intensity

Bounding - to move by leaping

Cantering - to move at or as if at a canter (i.e., a 3-beat gait resembling but smoother and slower than the gallop); loping

Careening - to proceed or move quickly

Coursing - to proceed or move quickly

Dashing - to go at a pace faster than a walk

Galloping - progressing, developing, or increasing rapidly

Hastening - to move or act quickly

Hieing - to go quickly; hasten

Hurtling - to move rapidly or forcefully

Hurrying - to carry or cause to go with haste

Hustling - hasten, hurry

Jogging - to run or ride at a slow trot

Loping - an easy usually bounding gait capable of being sustained for a long time

Racing - to proceed or move quickly

Ripping - to proceed or move quickly

Rushing - to cause to move or proceed fast or faster

Scampering - to run nimbly and usually playfully about

Scooting - to move swiftly

Scurrying - to move in or as if in a brisk pace; scampering

Scuttling - scurry; a short swift run

Skipping - to move or proceed with leaps and bounds or with a skip

Speeding - to make haste

Springing - to make a leap or series of leaps

Sprinting - to run or go at top speed especially for a short distance

Tearing - to proceed or move quickly

Tripping - to go at a pace faster than a walk

Trotting - to proceed briskly; hurrying

Zipping - to move, act, or function with speed and vigor

Hope this helps with your writing. Do tag me, or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always

WHUMP PROMPTS INVOLVING COLLARS

trigger warnings: torture, dehumanization, blood and gore, PTSD (everything in this is entirely fictional meant to inspire writers)

whumper making whumpee wear a collar with whumper’s own name on it, so that everyone knows who owns whumpee.

collar that will only keeps on tightening around whumpee’s neck until whumpee says please.

prong collar. except instead of a dog, it’s wrapped around whumpee’s neck.

whumper having two different collars for whumpee, one with the words “good dog” engraved on it and the other with the words “bad dog”, depends on how whumpee behaves that day — whumpee is terrified whenever whumper puts the “bad dog” collar around their neck, because it means they will get punished; and so they try their very best to always be a “good dog”.

whumpee trying to remove their collar by themself by scratching and digging their nails into their skin until they bleed.

collar with barbed wires that bite into whumpee’s neck each time whumpee moves or breathes. the chances of infection and necrosis are high if left on and untreated for too long.

whumpee not being able to stop absentmindedly trace their fingers over their bruised neck where the collar used to be, no matter how long it’s been since their rescue.

post rescue. whumpee having difficult time speaking, eating or drinking water due to the bruises around their neck that were inflicted by the collar they were forced to wear — this could cause them to stop talking or eating, or it could cause them to talk and eat less.

whumpee wanting (needing) whumper to own them. they beg whumper to please put the collar on them again. please please please please don’t abandon them.

whumpee having been brainwashed into thinking that having a collar around their neck means they’re not a stray. thus they think caretaker is going to abandon them because caretaker didn’t put a collar around their neck like whumper did!!!!

whumpee having a panic attack. they’ve lost their collar; the collar was their shield telling others to fuck off because “this one is already taken”. but now there isn’t a collar around their neck anymore, they are going to scent an unowned meat, and they are going to crawl out of the shadows to feast on whumpee.

whumpee attacks whumper, but they are abruptly stopped when whumper activates whumpee’s shock collar, leaving whumpee convulsing helplessly on the floor.

whumpee having PTSD from the collar where they, even without the collar, think they cannot breathe and so they start panicking.

whumper telling whumpee to wrap a collar around whumpee’s own neck by themself. whumpee having no choice but to obey when disobedience only means excruciating pain. they’ve learned their lesson the hard way.

whumper making sure whumpee sees themself wearing a collar by holding up a mirror in front of them. “look at you. surrender suits you. you’re so pretty with a collar around your neck.”

whumper letting whumpee choose which collar they want.

whumper, upon recapturing whumpee, holds whumpee’s old collar in their hands as they slowly approach whumpee. the sight of the collar alone is enough to break whumpee down.

whumpee having an episode in which they attack every doctor and every nurse who’s trying to help them. caretaker hates to do this, but they have no choice but to threaten whumpee by saying they will have to put a collar on whumpee again if whumpee isn’t behaving, knowing what whumpee went through during their time with whumper. it works because whumpee, despite trembling like a leaf, stops trying to hurt themself and the hospital staff right away. and the fact it works breaks caretaker.

whumpee burning their collar after they escape whumper.

caretaker applying salve on whumpee’s neck to ease the pain caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumpee being extremely paranoid and not letting anybody get close to their neck, without having a panic attack, after their rescue. caretakers are trying their best because, in order to properly treat whumpee, they have to be able to inspect the damage on whumpee’s neck so that they can offer treatment accordingly.

whumpee feeling the needs to always wear a scarf to hide the bruises around their neck that were caused by the collar whumper made them wear.

whumper making whumpee say thank you and kiss the back of whumper’s hand each time whumper puts a collar on them.

whumper clasping a collar around whumpee’s neck without no warning, catching whumpee off guard. by the time whumpee realizes what’s happened, it’s already too late.

whumper giving whumpee a collar that matches whumper’s dog’s collar. so now whumper has two pets!

whumper pulling whumpee in for a kiss on the lips, by yanking the chain attached to the collar around whumpee’s neck, eliciting an involuntarily moan from whumpee.

whumper touching their hand to the collar around whumpee’s neck, running their finger over it and leaning in to breathe the scent of whumpee’s hatred, fear, and possibly arousal.

But what if they offer and I don’t want to say no?

Villain was alone. 

Villain was alone, yet, that did not justify them.

To trap another.

They touched Hero's skin as carefully as one would cradle a child, afraid of bringing harm, careful, adoring.

Soft as their hands trailed through their hair, playing with the strands, braiding it, brushing it, adorning it with any ornament they considered beautiful enough to be twisted or pin on their head. 

Soft their voice was too when they spoke, when they read to the other, when they told them words of comfort, of encouragement, when they told them words of love. 

Their gaze was soft too, always kind, always gleaming when their eyes met in the middle of a room, when they stayed fixed on the other's stare and both gave each other a playful smile. 

Hero was alone too.

Hero was alone and, perhaps, that did justify them. 

To allow themselves to be captured

Villain was so very good at tenderness Hero felt like crying with every kindness they offered on a silverplate

And perhaps, for a moment, they could pretend they had met at a party, at a café, perhaps in the park one day walking their dogs. 

Pretend their first date had been in an italian restaurant, a sushi one perhaps, somewhere pretty with candles illuminating each other's faces. Pretend blood had never been caused by the other's hand, pretend they had never seen each other injured more than by a small cut of a knife cooking, the cut of a paper as they read a book. 

Hero could fool themselves, that had been part of their life since birth, lies and façades, play pretend and simulate a life they would never have, but everyone expected of them. 

They were beautiful, graceful, skilled. They would make a fine spouse someday to someone greater, someone with more power, they were easy on the eyes, obedient, trained to not be a burden. 

“Can you cut my hair?” 

Comfortable was the silence broken, and their shoulders tensed for ruining the moment for such a stupid request. 

But Villain allowed it, helping them cut the back, but letting Hero do all the rest, to butcher it as they wanted. 

Villain allowed many things others would not, their parents, their organisation, their ex partners, and, after a while, Hero felt more free trapped beside them than they ever did away. 

“I’m not proud of myself,” they said once at the dinner table, earning a confused glance from their companion “I’ve been letting desire cloud my judgement lately.”

Villain lifted a brow. 

“And is that worth shame?”

“I’ve been told it is,” Hero answered, raising their eyes.

“And what is this desire you speak about?” 

“For life not to hurt.” 

The clink of the cutlery echoed through the room, an interested stare looking right back at them, urging them to continue. 

“For me to be wanted, loved, perhaps.” 

“Perhaps?” 

“Perhaps.” 

They shook their head “But none of that is something I’m supposed to want.” 

“But that’s not relevant, is it?” Villain answered “We established that, in this situation, I could do anything with you and there would be little you could do against it.”

Villain took a bite of their food. 

“Perhaps what I want it’s to fulfil your desire,” they said “so one day you can forget it brings you shame.” 

Hero never looked for a way out after that. 

_

Masterlist

This is gonna be by far my hardest semester at uni so far, works may not be as frequent :(

Guide to IPA Symbols

Vowels

æ ask bat glad ɑ: cot bomb caught paw ɛ bet fed ə about banana collide i very any thirty i: eat bead bee ɪ id bid pit ʊ foot should put u: boot two coo ʌ under putt bud ɚ merge bird further eɪ eight wade bay aɪ ice bite tie aʊ out gown plow oɪ oyster coil boy oʊ oat own zone blow ɑɚ car heart bizarre eɚ bare fair wear iɚ near deer mere pier oɚ boar port door shore uɚ boor tour insure ɒ British cot bomb ɔ: British caught paw port ə: British merge bird əʊ British oat own zone blow ɪə British near deer ɛə British bare fair ʊə British boor tour

Consonants

b baby labor cab d day kid ʤ just badger fudge ð then either bathe f foe tough buff g go dagger bag h hot ahead j yes vineyard k lacquer flock skin l law hollow l̟ pedal battle final m mat hemp hammer rim n new tent tenor run n̩ button satin kitten ŋ rung hang swinger p lapse top lip speed r rope arrive s sad mist kiss ʃ shoe mission slush t mat stick late tʰ toe attack ɾ later catty riddle tʃ batch nature tʃʰ choose chin achieve θ thin ether bath v vat never cave w wet software z zoo easy buzz ʒ vision azure beige

Other Symbols

' penmanship ˌ penmanship British indicates British pronunciation variant

Source

Black!Fem!Venom!Reader

Y/N laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't get to sleep, so instead of doomscrolling for the nth time this week, she did what any bored 24 year old would do with a flashlight and comics on the brain. She decided to go solo and investigate the abandoned factory just outside of town.

She peeked over the railing just inside, shining the light at the bottom. She frowned. The ground was not close enough to jump. She pointed the light around, locating dilapidated stairs that led down into inky blackness. At the end of the stairs, Y/n fell, narrowly avoiding tetanus as she grabbed the unstable metal, yelping.

Somehow, in her flailing, she'd kicked the flashlight back into her hand after dropping it. After the shock of not being dead subsided, she pointed the light down. There, the ground looked up at her, almost mocking her with its proximity. She dropped to her feet, the tired stairs creaking, a mere jump away from escape.

Down a hallway glowed something green. Like a horror movie protagonist, she walked toward it. But she did so quietly, keeping the light trained on the darkness ahead. The glowing goo below lit up her walkway, letting her eyes see in the darkness. She turned off her flashlight, having watched too many plots where the flashlight died right when it was needed.

She went down the hallway, the green goo now behind her. A hole let the faint light of the moon in, bathing everything in a twilight blue.

In the corner of her eye, she saw movement, but kept moving, slowly pivoting around the room, flashlight at the ready.

A (black?) goop plopped onto the ground and made its way towards her. The moment she realized it was moving, she bolted, saving her screaming energy for running.

She jumped up to the stairs faster than she would've thought possible. Whipping around a corner, she slipped and dropped the flashlight. She reached for it, but had no time to dwell on the loss as the black goop was right behind her. She bolted up the stairs, hardly keeping her footing on the old stairs, willing them to get her to the top faster than the goop.

She dove through the hole in the wall she'd come in through, barely sparing a glance at the hole to see that the goop had stopped at the concrete.

She gulped in air, watching the goop, before heading home. Y/n would need to get another flashlight. Oh wait, her dad had bought her one when the blackout had happened, giving her a spare. And worst case, she kept her phone charged. She glanced back through the brush, but saw no unusual movement.

When she got back to her apartment, its dark, quiet atmosphere was comforting. She took a shower and noticed a scratch right under her boob. She cleaned it as thoroughly as she could in the shower. Once out, she got some rubbing alcohol, gritted her teeth, and stuck the cotton ball on the wound. Pain threw stars in her vision and she could swear she saw Orion. After about five seconds (which felt like an eternity) she soaked her cloth with warm water and patted the cut before drying and bandaging it.

She put on her pajamas and went to bed.