Plumes Of Smoke Clouded The Dark Horizon. The Smokey Scent Of A Campfire Wafted Through The Cold Air.

Pacing Writing tip

Here’s the thing about pacing: it’s the heartbeat of your story. Too slow, and the reader flatlines. Too fast, and they can’t catch their breath. You need to know when to hold back and when to push forward. Slow down for the emotional beats, the quiet moments of character development. But when the tension builds, you hit the gas and don’t let up until the reader’s hanging on every word. Pacing isn’t about keeping a steady speed, it’s about the rhythm of highs and lows that keeps your reader glued to the page.

"I hardly sleep, and when I do, I am plagued by nightmares."

"I can help, but the price is steep."

🦑Inks for a squid kaiju concept I made a while back. Quite proud of these! 🦑

The man who strides in is haggard and unkempt. He looks at you with a dead-eyed expression and a look of utter despair.

"So, uh, here goes," he says. "People say you have some kind of power. And I just... I'm wondering if you can check my red string."

"Of course," you say. The request is not unusual. "I'll even tell you who's on the other side, if you like."

You find the start of the string and motion for him to follow. He trails behind you wordlessly, his eyes glued to the floor.

Outside, you can see the string disappear into the horizon.

"We'll take my car," you say.

You drive down the road in silence, following the twists and turns of the string. Sometimes you lose sight of it and have to retrace your steps. It's a bit difficult to pinpoint one string in an area full of people.

Finally you reach a residential building. The string goes straight into the walls of the third floor.

"We can stop," the man whispers. He sags in his seat and buries his head in his hands.

"You recognize this building?" you ask.

He nods quietly.

You touch his shoulder gently. "Then why--"

"It'll never work," he mutters. "My roommate, he's so... Oblivious."

You tilt your head. "Have you shared your feelings?"

He laughs. "So, so many times. He just doesn't get it. He doesn't think... Two guys..." He sighs and shakes his head in resignation. "I need to move out."

"You don't have to explain it," you say gently.

"Do you want to come in for some tea?" he asks.

You nod.

You walk up the stairs behind him. The string pulls taught as you reach his floor. You walk down the hallway, glancing at the various apartments, and pause at the door that the string leads to.

"Why are you stopped over there?" he says. "I live over here."

You blink, then follow him. He hesitates at the door. "I think he's home," he says.

"He can't be. The string leads down the hall," you say.

He opens the door. "Oh. Hey, roomie," he says.

His roommate waves back.

He gestures for you to sit.

You shake your head. "I have to tell you something," you whisper.

"Don't worry, he's got a headset on and he can't hear you right now," the man says.

"He's not your soulmate," you say.

"What?" he squawks.

You look at the string. It pulled taught straight into the wall.

"Come out to the hallway with me," you say. You knock on the door the string leads you to.

The man who answers says, "Oh no. Is your roommate being dumb again?"

Your client hesitates. He experiences a moment of realization.

"Oh. Y-yeah," he says.

"I got your favorite snacks," says the man who answered. "Also I need to share this new show with you. I know you'll love it."

Your client looks at you uncertainly. You smile.

"Oh, you're, um, welcome to join too," the man who answered says.

"No, you two have fun," you say with a knowing smile.

Your client smiles. "Thanks."

Some say that an invisible red string is tied around the fingers of soulmates meant to be together forever. As it turns out, you can see these red strings, and have therefore created a highly successful matchmaking business.

Smile out of spite

They want you to cry

Not here, not tonight

Existence is resistance

You are here, despite all odds

Thriving in the cracks they tried to seal

You are magnificent

Your roots are strong

One day you'll reach sunlight

But for now?

You know how to do with less

CW: implied abuse, wrongful imprisonment

It had been five years.

Five years since Villain heard that laugh.

Their blood ran cold. Their heart pounded in their chest. Too afraid to turn their head. With shaking hands, they pulled out their phone and angled the camera to view behind them.

It was them. Oh God, it was them. Sitting with their friends at a table, like everything was normal. Like they were normal.

Every nerve was in high alert. Throat constricted. Villain left cash on the table and rushed to leave--

THUD.

Villain fell back. Phone slid across the floor.

"Oh my god, I am so so so sorry," the person who ran into them babbled. They held out a hand to help them up. "I didn't even see you-- Are you okay, are you hurt? Let me help you up."

Villain glanced up at the friendly voice. Hero's Sidekick.

Villain quickly ducked away and ignored the hand, instead opting to crawl towards their phone and grab it before--

"Oh, is this yours? Here."

Those boots. That voice.

Villain couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Hero crouched face-to-face with them. Holding their phone. Rooted on the spot.

"... Villain?!" A flurry of emotions crossed Hero's face. "You're-- you're alive?!"

Villain bolted. Hero screamed for them to come back. Past the parking lot, past the tree line, into the thick of the forest. Not the best place to cut through to get home, nor the fastest, but an easy way to shake someone off.

They didn't stop running until their legs gave out. Lungs stung with the exertion. They upchucked everything from the bar.

Villain had escaped them. They had faked their death so perfectly. Vanished without a trace, all away across the continent. Hero wasn't supposed to ever find them. Yet here they were.

Villain leaned against a tree to stand up shakily. They needed to get home, grab their cash and whatever they could carry, and leave.

They arrived at their door covered with leaves and dirt. No time to shower.

First thing to do was to grab the money. They crossed the room halfway before they stopped. Something was off. Something was wrong, but they couldn't place what.

Peppermint. They never had peppermint in their house. Hero ruined it for them. Yet they smelled it now.

They turned to leave too late.

Hero was there, blocking the front door.

"You left your phone," Hero said, holding it up.

Villain backed away. "Let me go," they pleaded. "Let me go, please."

The back of their legs hit a coffee table, and they fell backward. The table cracked and collapsed. Hero stood over them.

"Why would I do that?" Hero said. They pressed onto the villain's chest with their boot. "You had me fooled, I'll give you that. Look at the life you've made for yourself here. Nice little apartment. Friends."

They clicked cuffs over Villain's wrists.

"You and I both know your only home is behind bars," Hero whispered in their ear.

"Please..." Villain withered. "Please take me to the proper channels. Please take me to prison."

Hero patted their cheek. "You wouldn't last five minutes in prison, my pet. I built the basement solely to keep you safe and out of trouble."

Villain shook. They tried to keep down the building panic attack and couldn't. They were sobbing, gasping for breath.

"I missed you, " Hero said, caressing the side of their cheek. "You're as perfect as I remember."

They carried Villain into the back of the car.

"Wow. You caught a bad guy on vacation?" Sidekick said.

Villain hung their head.

Hero startled. "Sidekick? When did you get here?"

"I followed you in case you needed backup. You left in such a hurry."

"I don't need your help," Hero said hurriedly. "This is a... Special case."

"It's not trouble," Sidekick said with a smile. "What'd they do, anyway?"

Hero's eyes darkened. "I'm sorry, Sidekick, but that information's classified. Please forget you saw this."

Villain peeked at Sidekick from the corner of their eye.

Sidekick glanced back. If Villain didn't know any better, they would say they looked worried.

"Okay," Sidekick said. "We're still driving back together, though, aren't we?"

Hero groaned. "I thought you were driving back with the others."

"No, they're taking a detour and we need to get back."

Hero relented, and for a while they drove in silence. Sidekick kept checking the back seat.

They reached a rest stop. While Hero was in the restroom, Sidekick ran to the back door.

"Quick. Here's some cash," Sidekick said. "Get out of here before Hero comes back."

"Why--" Villain tried to say.

"I recognize you. You were Hero's first sidekick." Sidekick looked away, expression pained. "I... I know your story. And I believe you. I know why you did it."

"...Thank you," Villain whispered.

"Get out. Now. That truck's leaving."

Villain nodded, then ran for the truck that was pulling away.

Hero screamed. "No, no, they're GETTING AWAY! STOP!!!"

Sidekick smiled and waved sadly as Villain watched them fade into the distance.

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

Hello. I heard you wanted ideas for a snippet so here I am.

Why not write about a supervillain inviting the hero to a dinner to a fancy restaurant. The hero would accept and he would be either dumbfounded or happy to be treated well (or any feeling you would like but something strangely positive). The supervillain would be a gentleman, the hero would be able to eat what he truly wants and not what is cheaper (broke hero perhaps?)…

I feel like I’ve been super specific already so I hope you enjoyed the prompt and if you pick this prompt, hopefully you’ll have a good time writing it.

Dinner with the Villain

This was so fancy to write lol, I love how it was more specific. I hope this is what you had in mind.

Warnings: Poor living conditions

The hero stood outside the restaurant, staring up at the glowing sign with a mix of disbelief and apprehension. Le Clair de Lune was the kind of place they’d only ever seen in movies—crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, waiters in tailored suits. Not exactly the kind of spot you’d expect to be invited to by your arch-nemesis.

But here they were, clutching the embossed invitation in their hand, the words “Join me for dinner. 8 PM sharp. No capes.” scrawled in the villain’s elegant handwriting. They’d almost thrown it away, convinced it was some kind of trap. But curiosity—and the gnawing hunger that came with living on instant noodles—had won out.

The moment they stepped inside, a waiter greeted them with a polite smile. “Ah, you must be our guest of honor. Right this way.”

The hero followed, their boots squeaking awkwardly on the polished floor. They felt out of place in their patched-up jacket and scuffed jeans, but the staff didn’t seem to notice. Or if they did, they were too professional to comment.

The villain was already seated at a table near the back, dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than the hero’s entire apartment. They looked up as the hero approached, a smirk playing on their lips.

“You came,” the villain said, their voice smooth and amused. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Yeah, well,” the hero muttered, sliding into the chair across from them. “Free food is free food.”

The villain chuckled, gesturing to the menu. “Order whatever you like. My treat.”

The hero hesitated, their eyes scanning the menu. The prices were astronomical, the kind of numbers that made their stomach twist. But the villain had said whatever you like, and the hero wasn’t about to pass up the chance to eat something that didn’t come out of a microwave.

They ordered the most expensive steak on the menu, along with a side of truffle fries and a dessert they couldn’t even pronounce. The villain raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, simply sipping their wine as the waiter took the order.

“So,” the hero said once they were alone, “what’s the catch?”

The villain tilted their head, feigning innocence. “Catch?”

“Yeah. You don’t just invite me to a fancy dinner for no reason. What’s your angle?”

The villain leaned back in their chair, their smirk widening. “Can’t a villain simply enjoy the company of their favorite adversary?”

The hero snorted. “Favorite adversary? You tried to blow up my apartment last week.”

“And yet, here you are,” the villain said, gesturing to the table. “Eating my food, drinking my wine. Clearly, you’ve forgiven me.”

“I haven’t forgiven you,” the hero shot back, though there was no real bite to their words. “I’m just… curious.”

The villain’s expression softened, just slightly. “Perhaps I’m curious too. We’re always fighting, always at each other’s throats. I thought it might be… refreshing to see what happens when we’re not.”

The hero didn’t know how to respond to that. They were saved by the arrival of their food, the aroma of perfectly cooked steak making their mouth water. They dug in without hesitation, savoring every bite. It was the best meal they’d had in years.

The villain watched them eat, their expression unreadable. “You know,” they said after a moment, “you don’t have to live like this.”

The hero paused, a forkful of steak halfway to their mouth. “Like what?”

“Like you’re always one paycheck away from disaster,” the villain said, their voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re a hero. You save lives. And yet, you can’t even afford a decent meal. It’s… tragic.”

The hero set their fork down, their appetite suddenly gone. “What are you saying?”

The villain leaned forward, their eyes gleaming. “I’m saying you deserve better. And maybe… I can help with that.”

The hero stared at them, their mind racing. This had to be a trick. Some kind of manipulation. But the villain’s expression was sincere, their offer genuine. And for the first time, the hero wondered if maybe, just maybe, they didn’t have to do this alone.

“Why?” they asked finally. “Why would you help me?”

The villain smiled, a rare, genuine smile. “Because even villains have their soft spots. And because… I think you’re worth it.”

The hero didn’t know what to say to that. So they didn’t say anything. They just picked up their fork and kept eating, the weight of the villain’s words settling over them like a warm blanket.

For the first time in a long time, they felt… hopeful.

Masterlist

That run cycle and spin kick!!! She is fast, but weighted!

Hey I'm back with another animation, that took forever 😅 accidentally deleted my progress from it last year around the same time as now. I worked on it on and off since then. I learned a lot again and now I can finally move on to other projects. This is the same character from my last one, Cassidy's the name, Kicks're her game! Terrible reference aside, I want this big lady of mine to kick ass and I believe I succeeded!

Their hand was warm in yours. The night was still, the moonlight sprinkled through the canopy of trees. You lay there and wish the rest of the world could disappear.

"I love you," they whispered softly.

You brought their hand to your lips. "I love you too."

Wind rustled through the trees. Something wet hit your cheek. The soft rumble of thunder tore you from the moment.

You both stood. They opened an umbrella and pulled you close.

"My place isn't far," they said.

You gently placed a kiss on their cheek. They smiled.

"Lead the way," you said.

"You poisoned me." Hero's hand goes to their throat, already feeling the burn, the effect of the toxin. They realized the moment they took a drink from pretty red wine Villain suggested they share.

"Not poison. Not exactly." Villain tuts. "Truth serum. It's considered a minor toxin but by no means dangerous to the average person."

Hero's eyes widen. They feel the sting of betrayal, harsher than the burn in their throat.

"Why?" They croak. "Was this the only reason you suggested dinner together?" Their eyes burn.

Villain eyes them for a moment. "You're privy to a lot of useful information about the other heroes. Information I could find useful. As for your other question," They drawl, "Why? Would you be upset by that?" Villain almost smirks.

Already feeling the effects, Hero is unable to lie. "Yes." They answer quietly. They try to avoid Villain's gaze, waiting for the interrogation to begin, meal abandoned. "I was happy when you asked me." Their words spill out of them unbidden.

They miss the surprised look on Villain's face at this admission. Quiet settles over them for a long moment.

"Looking forward to trying to mend my villainous ways?" Villain eventually huffs. "Did you hope that a nice dinner together would have been enough to change me?" Their tone borders on defensive.

Tears threaten to spill over Hero's lashes. They try to get control of their emotions, but the serum is doing something to their control, their inhibition.

"No." They confess. "No. I just wanted to spend time with you." They still can't meet Villain's gaze, the table below beginning to blur.

"Why?" Villain asks, sounding incredulous, sounding almost spooked. "We're enemies. I've nearly killed you countless times."

Hero gulps, trying to stop the words from coming out, mentally clawing at themselves to stop speaking. They tumble out anyway.

"I like spending time with you." Their hand goes to grip the table, to steady themselves as they lose control of their own voice. "I like spending time with you especially when we're not fighting."

"Stop it." Villain demands. Now it's their turn for their voice to wobble.

"I really like you." Tears brim over Hero's cheeks now, and they hear Villain suck in a harsh breath. They can't stop the words now that they're flowing out. The dam has been broken.

"Stop talking. Stop it." Villain sounds more desperate now.

"I was hoping you'd kiss me tonight."

The table shakes loudly as Villain stands, dining ware nearly falling over. Hero finally looks up at them, trying to blink away their tears. They see Villain's hollowed expression. They let out a rattling breath.

"This was a mistake." Villain finally says. Hero sees the way they dig their nails into the table cloth, before their vision is blurred by more tears. "I shouldn't have done this."

"Dinner..? Or tricking me?" Hero's voice is rough, raspy.

Villain is silent for a long moment. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done." Now it's their turn to not meet Hero's eyes.

"I'd let you take me to dinner again." Hero gulps, the truth still spilling out of them with ease. "I wish you'd take me to dinner again. Even if you trick me another time." Shame swirls in Hero's gut as they admit to this pathetic truth. It doesn't matter how many times they get burned, it won't change how much they imagine Villain's lips on theirs, their hands on them.

"I need to go." Villain's throat bobs. They shove themselves away from the table harshly, the wine spilling over. Hero watches them leave as their tears drip below.