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Great dialogue can come from radical emotional honesty. But in most real conversations, people

dodge questions

answer indirectly

lie (badly)

change the subject

crack jokes to avoid serious answers

lie (convincingly)

say half of what they mean

tell the truth but get so anxious/angry/defensive others now think they're lying

If your dialogue feels unnatural, it might be because everyone is saying exactly what they think, or articulating their thoughts too well. Try letting characters hide things instead.

Posting Date: August 10, 2026 Title: Your Blood in My Veins Artist: @aaliyahsparrow Author: @vexbatch

Fic Summary: When Ilya Rozanov discovers Shane Hollander's secret after the draft, it drags them close — and brings the stakes of the dangerous game they're playing ever higher. A vampiric retelling of the beginning of Heated Rivalry.

Snippet: In that moment, it felt so good to punish his body for not having been enough to come first. Sure, he would get to play in Montreal, close enough to his parents for driving purposes, but still. He had lost.

Not his team, but him. He had failed.

An unholy squeaking rang out in the small gym — the door.

Fuck.

It was getting harder to say goodbye.

Shane’d figured it’d be easier, once they were official. To part, knowing that there definitely was going to be a next time. But now? Now, it was excruciating. Because whenever he had to kiss Ilya goodbye, it was with the knowledge that Ilya belonged to him. That he was sending the most precious and fragile piece of his heart into the universe, unprotected, just praying that it would come back unscathed.

So yeah, maybe the last time they’d said goodbye, he’d gotten carried away.

Caught up in the moment, the feeling of Ilya inside him, the need to be inside the other man’s very soul.

He’d been loud. Groaning Ilya’s name so raggedly that it’d pulled Ilya over the edge after him, pulling him closerclosercloser, refusing to let go even in the sticky aftermath.

But it was just unbearable. How much he fucking loved him.

But he didn’t realize how needy he’d been until a text arrived on his phone the next day.

Unknown Number: Montreal Jane

He froze, shocked and a bit terrified.

Shane: Who is this? Unknown Number: Cliff Marleau Unknown Number: Damn girl Unknown Number: Look what you did

And then, a picture. An attached picture of Ilya in front of the mirror in what must’ve been the Raiders’ locker room, his torso bare. His expression in the reflection was electric, the uninhibited grin on his face lighting up the whole room. 

But the best part?

The picture gave a clear view of long, possessive marks scratched down Ilya’s sculpted back. Etched over his beautiful muscles and pressed into his perfect flesh, Shane had, in the heat of the moment, used his nails like claws, marking what was his.

Suddenly, he broke into a crazed grin that matched his boyfriend’s.

US climate with equivalent cities from around the world.