Subtle Ways To Include Foreshadowing

flirty bellamy makes me feel things…

Bellamy Blake Appreciation Week 2025

Day 3 : Bellamy Blake + fave outfit

The blue Henley in S5a (@pendragaryen)

hi hi! this one's mine >u<

What is the first sentence in your WIP?

I’ll go first

Emotionally reserved characters

Instead of openly sharing their emotions with others, they keep their feelings locked inside, letting their inner thoughts do all the talking. You get a glimpse into their mind, where a storm of conflicts, doubts, and desires brews quietly beneath a calm exterior. This internal monologue allows readers to understand what’s going on inside their head, even if they don’t show it on the outside. It’s like seeing the world through their eyes, where every little thing stirs up a wave of emotions that they never express out loud.

For these characters, actions speak louder than words, but even their actions are restrained. They communicate their emotions through the smallest of gestures—a slight tightening of the jaw when they’re angry or hurt, a brief flicker in their eyes when they’re surprised, or a controlled change in posture when something makes them uncomfortable. These tiny, almost imperceptible movements can say so much more than an outburst ever could, hinting at feelings they would never openly share. It’s about what they don’t do as much as what they do.

When they do speak, every word is carefully chosen. Emotionally reserved characters don’t ramble or spill their feelings in a flood of words. Instead, they speak in a measured and controlled manner, always keeping their emotions in check. Their sentences are concise, sometimes even vague or indirect, leaving others guessing about what they’re really thinking. It’s not that they don’t feel deeply, they just prefer to keep those feelings close to the chest, hidden behind a mask of calm and composure.

For these characters, what they do is often more telling than what they say. They might not say “I care about you” outright, but you’ll see it in the way they go out of their way to help, the quiet ways they show up for the people they love. Their actions reveal their emotions—whether it’s a protective gesture, a silent sacrifice, or a kind deed done without expectation of recognition. It’s these unspoken acts of kindness that show their true feelings, even if they never say them out loud.

They often have strong personal boundaries. They keep their private lives just that - private. They don’t open up easily and are cautious about who they let into their inner circle. They might deflect conversations away from themselves or avoid sharing personal details altogether. It’s not that they don’t want to connect, it’s just that they find it hard to lower their walls and let others in, fearing vulnerability or judgment.

When they do show vulnerability, it’s in small, controlled doses. These characters may have moments where they let their guard down, but only in private or with someone they deeply trust.

Sometimes, emotionally reserved characters express their feelings through objects that hold special significance to them. Maybe it’s a worn-out book they keep close, a piece of jewelry they never take off, or an old letter tucked away in a drawer. These symbolic objects are like anchors, holding memories and emotions they can’t express in words. They serve as tangible reminders of their inner world, representing feelings they keep buried deep inside.

When these characters communicate, there’s often more to their words than meets the eye. They speak in subtext, using irony, implication, or ambiguity to convey what they really mean without saying it outright. Their conversations are filled with hidden meanings and unspoken truths, creating layers of depth in their interactions with others. You have to read between the lines to understand what they’re really saying because what they leave unsaid is just as important as what they do say.

Despite their calm demeanor, there are certain things that can break through their emotional reserve. Specific triggers - like a painful memory, a deep-seated fear, or a personal loss - can elicit a strong emotional response, revealing the depth of their feelings. These moments of intensity are rare but powerful, showing that even the most reserved characters have a breaking point.

Over time, emotionally reserved characters can evolve, gradually revealing more about themselves as they grow and change. Maybe they start to trust more, opening up to those around them, or perhaps they experience something that challenges their emotional barriers, forcing them to confront their feelings head-on.

if bellamy in the 100 book isn’t a fuckign mood

Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)

Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):

1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.

2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.

3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.

4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.

5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.

6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”

7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.

8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.

9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.

10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.

11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!

12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.

13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.

14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.

Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.

BELLAMY BLAKE APPRECIATION WEEK ↳ Day Seven ∞ Free Choice

Hello again!! :D i was wondering, what makes a story feel lifeless? i mean, not the plot but the text itself. My writing feels like a bunch of facts one after the other: the sky was blue, it smelled like cinnamon; This happened and then That happened, now they're doing This etc. Despite including sensory details and the protagonist's thoughts, it still feels monochromatic and devoid of personality :( and like? too quick?? in a bad way (not sure why). How can i change this?

Great question! I love this one! Here are three things that come to mind for me.

Based on what you've written, it seems like what you might be missing is emotionality--without the right emotion beats, it's no wonder its feeling lifeless to you. You've got the senses nailed -- the sky is blue (what they see), it smells like cinnamon (scent, evocative! curious: why does it smell like that, i wonder as the reader, that's good!). And you've got plot points coming one after the other, also good.

So maybe your paragraph looks like this (obviously I'm just making this up):

Jane followed Maura into the farmer's market. It was a hot day. The sky was bright blue and the air smelled like cinnamon. Maura took a long time looking at all of the vegetables. Jane bought a Red Sox onesie for Frankie's baby. Maura spent a lot of money, and Jane was ready to go long before Maura was.

Here are three things I'd do to make this seem more alive, more emotional, and take longer (if you want it to):

1. Vary the sentence length. This is a great an easy fix to writing that sounds wooden. Read it out loud. Notice the steady tempo of the sentences above; they're all relatively similar in length. Breaking that up can give a more unpredictable rhythm that makes the reader's breath catch in their chest. After you read the above paragraph out loud, read this one. Notice that none of the words have changed, only the punctuation (and things like "and"):

Jane followed Maura into the farmer's market on a hot day. The sky was bright blue, the air smelled like cinnamon. Maura took a long time looking at all of the vegetables, and Jane bought a Red Sox onesie for Frankie's baby. Maura spent a lot of money. Jane was ready to go long before Maura was.

That's a little more lively, a little more of an emphasis comes into "Maura spent a lot of money," and there's a bit of a dance to "the sky was bright blue, the air smelled like cinnamon" in a way there wasn't to the first version.

Okay, simple fix done. Now to the more complex ones.

2. Tie specific emotion and memory to each sensation. So it smells like cinnamon, so what? So the sky is blue, so what? What do those things mean for Jane? Why are we calling those out? What can we learn from/about Jane and the scene from her reactions to those things? Maybe now it looks like this (new/modified stuff in blue):

Jane followed Maura into the farmer's market. It wasn't until they were approaching the first fruit stand that Jane realized how long it had been since she'd been here. Jane was surprised to find that she missed it, missed watching Maura touch every single damn zucchini and then buy none of them. It was nice, actually. It was the hottest day of the summer so far; the sky was bright blue, and the air smelled like cinnamon. Maura took a long time looking at all of the vegetables, as always, and Jane wandered away in a fit of boredom, returning with a cheap Red Sox onesie for Frankie's baby that made Maura mutter something under her breath about synthetic fabrics and infant skin. Jane didn't bother not to smile. It felt like old times. Maura finally found some berries up to her standards and spent more money than even Jane expected her to, and Jane eventually had to drag her back to the car.

Okay, so that's very different, right? Thinking about each detail, each action, as something that's specific and makes Jane think of specific things, to compare and contrast to how it might have gone before. That's going to give you lots of life and emotionality. We learn, without you having to tell us, that Jane expected it to be boring, stilted, long, and not very hot outside. That tells us a lot about Jane. Plus, we learn that not only was nice and kind of emotional and hot and Maura spent so much money, but also how Jane feels about those things, those expectations she had gotten wrong. That tells us even more about Jane!

And then the final thing that comes to my mind right now is:

3. Connect what's happening to the broader plot or tension of this scene. Why are they at the farmer's market? What is Jane needing to happen, or hoping doesn't happen? Let's say Maura has dragged Jane out because Jane has been stuck inside the precinct for a week trying to find a clue that's evaded her on a tough case. The unsolved case is weighing on Jane, and Maura is a firm believer that fresh air and exercise will give Jane's brain the breath it needs to find the clue. Jane is very grumpy about it. So that's tension: Jane wants to be at work saving lives, and Maura has dragged her here, using Jane's love for Maura to manipulate her into coming to the market. So maybe now it looks like this (new/modified stuff in purple):

Jane reluctantly followed Maura into the farmer's market. It wasn't until they were approaching the first fruit stand that Jane realized how long it had been since she'd been here; Maura used to drag her here almost every weekend, but that was before Casey. Before everything with Maura's dad. Before their relationship was stretched taut like a rubber band and then very nearly snapped in two. Jane was surprised to find that she missed it, missed watching Maura touch every single damn zucchini and then buy none of them. It was nice, actually. It was the hottest day of the summer so far; the sky was bright blue, and the air smelled like cinnamon. Inside the precinct, at her desk, it was always dark and smelled like a gym locker. Maybe Maura was right, not that Jane would ever admit it to her. Seeing the sky, smelling the pastries and coffee and ripe peaches--maybe this was what Jane needed to crack the case. Maura took forever looking at all of the vegetables, as always, and Jane wandered away in a fit of boredom, returning with a cheap Red Sox onesie for Frankie's baby that made Maura mutter something under her breath about synthetic fabrics and infant skin. Jane didn't bother not to smile. It felt like old times, like maybe one day they'd get back to the banter and easy affection they'd used to have. Maura finally found some berries up to her standards and spent more money than even Jane expected her to, and Jane eventually had to drag her back to the car, because murder can only wait so long, after all. The sunshine and stone fruit and the hot, humid breezes of summer would all still be waiting for her once she'd solved this damn case.

So by (1) varying sentence length, (2) making things tied to specific memories and details, and comparing/contrasting with past experiences or current expectations, and (3) tying the entire situation into the broad tension of the scene/chapter/fic, we've been able to add a lot of liveliness, character depth, emotionality, and slow down the pace so that we're not rushing from one thing to the next.

What do you think? What do you all do to add life to your scenes?