#all of them being worded and structured the exact same way

[arcsin27]

I think one of the most damning pieces of evidence that all these gofundme links in my inbox are automated scams is that if they were real people they would’ve noticed I don’t publish these by now. Like you can see I don’t post random gofundme links. I’m not one of those guys. It’s been like two months you can clearly see I’m never gonna post your link guys

[pomefioredove]

@hxney-lemcn said more cater fics and I am here 2 deliver ✌️✌️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends kiss, too

type of post: short fic characters: cater additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, friends 2 lovers ON TOP! a little making out

Every time Cater drags you through one of these things, you ask yourself why you let him, and every time, the answer is the same: he's your best friend, and you love him.

It's the very same reason you let him spam you with texts and annoy you with surprise selfies. It's the reason you rarely hang out with anyone else, because you know it makes him jealous, though he'd never admit that.

It's the reason you're here, now, awake in your room well past curfew.

Despite the threat of a Housewarden who would flay you alive if he caught you and Cater sneaking around in the dead hours of the night, your bestie was absolutely insistent on this all-nighter.

It's a trend on Magicam, he said, and he had, of course, pouted and whined like a sad puppy until you agreed to "support him" by keeping him awake.

By two in the morning, you were more bored than tired.

"Pass. Pass," Cater says, swiping through dating profiles on his phone. "Hm... no, pass."

You sigh and slump against the headboard of your bed. "You've said that word so many times, it doesn't sound real anymore,"

"Ughhhh. Is Sage's Island where hotties go to die? I just want a cute holiday romance!" he exclaims. "Think of the pics!"

You roll your eyes. You'd heard that exact string of words probably ten times in the past few days.

"You can't date someone just for couple photo ops,"

Cater pouts. "Oh, yes I can. I specify "nothing serious" on my profile! It's not like I'm lying!"

Another eye-roll. He's technically right, as always, which just makes you even more annoyed.

But you don't want to get into an argument about the morality of flings right now.

"And it's cold out. Who am I gonna hold when it gets even colder? It's cuffing season, hon,"

Something about the way he says that bothers you. You try not to think about it so much.

"Well, you'll always have me," you tease.

Cater giggles, and sets his phone down on the bed, a subtle way of showing you that you have his full attention now. "Oh? What's this? Sounds like you're offering,"

"Not what I meant," you counter. "I'm your bestie, not your bae."

"Boooo. What are you, a nun? Friends cuddle all the time,"

Again, he's right. He likes being right, and you can see that on him now, too. He has that competitive glow on his face.

You smile. "Sure, sure, but we all know that cuddling isn't what you're looking for,"

Cater gasps, feigning offense with a hand placed delicately over his heart. "I am not that easy! I'm starting to think you really do want me all to yourself,"

If anything, it's the other way around. Since befriending him at the start of the school year, you'd always had the feeling that he took up all your time on purpose. But you don't say that.

"Besides," he goes on. "There are a lot of things that besties can do that are perfectly friend-like. The segregation of romantic and platonic is a totally oppressive amatonormative structure, anyway."

You roll your eyes. "You have got to stop reading those infographics. Do you even know what any of those words mean?"

"Not the point! I'm saying that there's lots of cute stuff we can do while remaining besties,"

He's very enthusiastic about this. You can't tell if it's his penchant for being right, or something more.

"Pfft. Okay. So, what, friends can kiss?"

"Obviously," Cater crosses his arms over his chest, giving you that smug look of his. "Friends kiss, too."

"Then prove it,"

The words that had you had been holding in the back of your mouth for the past few minutes escape before your brain can stop them.

Even Cater, who's never surprised, pales a little.

Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens, again without your thoughts offering any support.

"I didn't mean-"

"Okay,"

You blink. Something hot and cold at the same time runs through your body- adrenaline, anxiety, maybe it's just your own blood heating up at the way Cater leans closer, cupping your face in his hand, his fingers curled under your jaw and thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

His hands are kinda sweaty. You don't really mind, and even if you did, it wouldn't have mattered, because his lips are now sweetly pressing against yours.

You fit together quite nicely. As if he was just meant to kiss you.

It's hard not to think about everything all at once; his warm hand moving to cup your chin and hold you close to him, his hair brushing against your face, the way his lips still linger with spice from whatever he'd eaten earlier...

It's not perfect. But it's him, which is close enough.

Cater pulls away, his breath dancing across your lips, but he gives you no time to recover before he's closer, kissing you again with a sort of heat that matched the taste of his mouth.

He holds your face in both hands, shamelessly pinning you against the headboard and sitting in your lap as if he belonged there, always.

Minutes go by. Maybe hours. You wouldn't have noticed, or cared, either way. When you finally part from one another, it's felt like years.

You feel like an entirely different person. As if the world had ended and begun again in the six minutes you had been kissing him.

Cater sits atop your thighs, panting, his face redder than his Housewarden's hair, that of which would have flayed you both if he were to catch you like this.

Luckily, it's just the two of you.

"See?" Cater finally mumbles, dismounting you and scooting back to where he left his phone. "Platonic."

You're too breathless to argue.

You suppose you'll let him be right again.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Beating Perfectionism

1. Recognising writing perfectionism. It’s not usually as literal as “This isn’t 100% perfect and so it is the worst thing ever”, in my experience it usually sneaks up more subtly. Things like where you should probably be continuing on but if you don’t figure out how to word this paragraph better it’s just going to bug you the whole time, or where you’re growing demotivated because you don’t know how to describe the scene 100% exactly as you can imagine it in your head, or things along those lines where your desire to be exact can get in the way of progression. In isolated scenarios this is natural, but if it’s regularly and notably impacting your progress then there’s a more pressing issue

2. Write now, edit later. Easier said than done, which always infuriated me until I worked out how it translates into practice; you need to recognise what the purpose of this stage of the writing process is and when editing will hinder you more than help you. Anything up to and including your first draft is purely done for structural and creative purposes, and trying to impose perfection on a creative process will naturally stifle said creativity. Creativity demands the freedom of imperfection

3. Perfection is stagnant. We all know that we have to give our characters flaws and challenges to overcome since, otherwise, there’s no room for growth or conflict or plot, and it ends up being boring and predictable at best - and it’s just the same as your writing. Say you wrote the absolute perfect book; the perfect plot, the perfect characters, the perfect arcs, the perfect ending, etc etc. It’s an overnight bestseller and you’re discussed as a literary great for all time. Everyone, even those outside of your target demographic, call it the perfect book. Not only would that first require you to turn the perfect book into something objective, which is impossible, but it would also mean that you would either never write again, because you can never do better than your perfect book, or you’ll always write the exact same thing in the exact same way to ensure constant perfection. It’s repetitive, it’s boring, and all in all it’s just fearful behaviour meant to protect you from criticism that you aren’t used to, rather than allowing yourself to get acclimated to less than purely positive feedback

4. Faulty comparisons. Comparing your writing to that of a published author’s is great from an analytical perspective, but it can easily just become a case of “Their work is so much better, mine sucks, I’ll never be as good as them or as good as any ‘real’ writer”. You need to remember that you’re comparing a completely finished draft, which likely underwent at least three major edits and could have even had upwards of ten, to wherever it is you’re at. A surprising number of people compare their *first* draft to a finished product, which is insanity when you think of it that way; it seems so obvious from this perspective why your first attempt isn’t as good as their tenth. You also end up comparing your ability to describe the images in your head to their ability to craft a new image in your head; I guarantee you that the image the author came up with isn’t the one their readers have, and they’re kicking themselves for not being able to get it exactly as they themselves imagine it. Only the author knows what image they’re working off of; the readers don’t, and they can imagine their own variation which is just as amazing

5. Up close and too personal. Expanding on the last point, just in general it’s harder to describe something in coherent words than it is to process it when someone else prompts you to do so. You end up frustrated and going over it a gazillion times, even to the point where words don’t even look like words anymore. You’ve got this perfect vision of how the whole story is supposed to go, and when you very understandably can’t flawlessly translate every single minute detail to your satisfaction, it’s demotivating. You’re emotionally attached to this perfect version that can’t ever be fully articulated through any other medium. But on the other hand, when consuming other media that you didn’t have a hand in creating, you’re viewing it with perfectly fresh eyes; you have no ‘perfect ideal’ of how everything is supposed to look and feel and be, so the images the final product conjures up become that idealised version - its no wonder why it always feels like every writer except you can pull off their visions when your writing is the only one you have such rigorous preconceived notions of

6. That’s entertainment. Of course writing can be stressful and draining and frustrating and all other sorts of nasty things, but if overall you can’t say that you ultimately enjoy it, you’re not writing for the right reasons. You’ll never take true pride in your work if it only brings you misery. Take a step back, figure out what you can do to make things more fun for you - or at least less like a chore - and work from there

7. Write for yourself. One of the things that most gets to me when writing is “If this was found and read by someone I know, how would that feel?”, which has lead me on multiple occasions to backtrack and try to be less cringe or less weird or less preachy or whatever else. It’s harder to share your work with people you know whose opinions you care about and whose impressions of you have the potential of shifting based on this - sharing it to strangers whose opinions ultimately don’t matter and who you’ll never have to interact with again is somehow a lot less scary because their judgements won’t stick. But allowing the imaginary opinions of others to dictate not even your finished project, but your unmoderated creative process in general? Nobody is going to see this without your say so; this is not the time to be fussing over how others may perceive your writing. The only opinion that matters at this stage is your own

8. Redirection. Instead of focusing on quality, focusing on quantity has helped me to improve my perfectionism issues; it doesn’t matter if I write twenty paragraphs of complete BS so long as I’ve written twenty paragraphs or something that may or may not be useful later. I can still let myself feel accomplished regardless of quality, and if I later have to throw out whole chapters, so be it

9. That’s a problem for future me. A lot of people have no idea how to edit, or what to look for when they do so, so having a clear idea of what you want to edit by the time the editing session comes around is gonna be a game-changer once you’re supposed to be editing. Save the clear work for when you’re allocating time for it and you’ll have a much easier and more focused start to the editing process. It’ll be more motivating than staring blankly at the intimidating word count, at least

10. The application of applications. If all else fails and you’re still going back to edit what you’ve just wrote in some struggle for the perfect writing, there are apps and websites that you can use that physically prevent you from editing your work until you’re done with it. If nothing else, maybe it can help train you away from major edits as you go

[bogkeep]

in which i tell you about medieval timekeeping methods

ok we gotta start with BABYLONIAN TIME and SUNDIALS because this is the Foundation. this is what they used for thousands of years. pretty much every structure we have for understanding and conceptualizing time is based on The Movements Of The Universe - years, months, days, this is how we understand Time to pass. the sun and stars were used for keeping time since Always!!!! there were also multiple ways of keeping time with the Shadows of the sun, not just sundials, but also tablets to measure the length of shadows. And Such

BABYLONIAN TIME is twelve hours daylight, twelve hours nighttime. this makes very good sense considering Sundials, you just split the indicators into twelve parts. don't know why Twelve specifically other than that the babylonians liked it, but it is a very nice, divisible number, and its been kept as the base for all the hour keeping systems i've read about so far.

but yes this does mean that a babylonian hour does not have a set, static length like a modern hour does...! it changes with the seasons and the place, so a babylonian winter hour is different from, say, a winter hour in northern norway. it probably helps to be closer to the equator and reliable sunny weather.

until the invention of mechanical escapement clocks, babylonian time was The main, foundational understanding of timekeeping, BUT...!!!!!! the church put a spin on it. what the monasteries needed to keep time for was Prayer Times, which they had seven of and were based on the passion of the christ. so they signaled the Seven Canonical Hours, starting at sunrise, ending at sunset. church bells is also how people kept time, because you could hear them out in the fields. timekeeping was a bit of a wibbly wobbly art but accuracy wasn't That important.

the various methods used to keep time in addition to sundials included: the cock's crow, candles, hymns, incense, and water clocks. not hour glasses, as they were invented around the same time as mechanical clocks. isn't that wild!!!!!!!

WATER CLOCKS, also called clepsydra, are a diverse category of clocks ranging from a container with water dripping out of it at a steady pace, to complex hydraulic mechanisms with weights and stuff that i honestly have yet to grasp. the simple versions were used in classical greece + rome in the same way you'd use hourglasses, to keep track of speech time, watch time, et cetera. the islamic world + china were the ones to develop the complex water clocks. there's documentation of a water clock in gaza that had like, moving automata and stuff around year 500. there was a water driven astronomical clock in china around year 1000. water clocks made a comeback in europe around the 1100ds, and were getting more widespread use. like at least they work at night, unlike SOME dials

"mechanical clock" is a bit of a misnomer since water clocks were clearly also mechanical, and the exact time of invention of what we think of as mechanical clocks is Vague. the word "horologia" was used to refer to any kind of timekeeping device, including the noble rooster, so it's a bit of a semantic haze.

they had astrolabes, which Could be used to tell the time, but weren't used to do that in the daily life. scientists wanted to make an automated astrolabe for like, the Science, they just needed to invent the perpetuum mobile first and then combine them. obviously.

the missing piece for the MECHANICAL CLOCK was the escapement, the mechanism that regulates the time with which the gears turn. once they got this going, probably early 1300ds, they got the shows on the road. the shows being: the astronomical clock, and the public striking clock. these were considered different things, you see.

the astronomical clock is the Automated Astrolabe. it shows the movement of the sun and moon and stars and as a consequence, the Time. they had dials that people could read the time from, but they were generally considered objects of prestige and god's glory, kind of like cathedrals. they often had moving figures and such.

now, public clocks that mark the hours with sound, THAT'S a timekeeping device. they didn't even have clock faces at first, and it really is so interesting to think about how looking at a clock wasn't considered the main way to tell the time. these clocks seem to have originated in italian cities and spread from there, and this is where we get ITALIAN TIME.

to show babylonian time with a mechanical clock is impractical. the machinery is good at regular movement, to show babylonian hours you kind of need the astrolabe. so italian hours were static and unchanging in length. you had twenty four hours in a day, and the cut-off point was half an hour past sunset. that was the end of the twenty fourth hour, and a new calendar date begun.

of course, the time of the sunset keeps changing all the time As Well, so these clocks had to be adjusted for that Continuously. which was annoying but they still did it until the 17th century. this method was used in italy, bohemia, silesia and maybe poland? i'm unsure what they used outside these spaces at the time, if they stuck to the babylonian hours even with mechanical clocks and did complex maths about it.

at least the NUREMBERG CLOCK had its own take on it, even if it didn't spread beyond southern germany at all. they used babylonian hours, but instead of changing the length of an hour, they changed the amount. eight day hours and sixteen night hours in december, opposite in june. the tables needed for how many days with how many hours were very complex and annoying also.

the concept of starting a new calender day at midnight, and never needing to constantly adjust day hours or when the sunset begins, WAS known but only used for scientific and astronomical purposes. like that's such a weird way to split the day!!!!! twelve at MIDDAY?? WEIRD. some travellers noted that this was a very practical and elegant solution, though, but travel and far flung communication was still very slow, so mismatched timekeeping was more annoying than inconvenient. but anyway that's for the future to figure out

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Improve your Writing

Rick Riordan's Writing Tips

Rick Riordan:

Taste is subjective, and opinions differ about what "good writing" looks like. Most of us have read a bestseller or two and wondered, "How did this thing get published?" Nevertheless, I would argue that most work does not get published unless it demonstrates a certain level of technical competence. The grammar is correct. The prose is readable. I would further argue that most manuscripts are rejected because the writing is not technically competent. The manuscript never stands a chance because the writer simply doesn't know the craft of writing well enough. If you write well, you have already set yourself apart from 99% of what agents and editors see every day. Below are some notes on what I call "sentence level competence" — the ability to craft prose at the most basic level. These tips reflect the most common problems I've observed in unpublished manuscripts.

Sentence-Level Competence

Sentence focus — the subjects of all clauses should be appropriate to the content of the sentence.

Favor the concrete over the abstract, the antecedent over the pronoun.

Example: It was a sunny day. (the subject "it" is boring and vague.)

Better: The sky was brilliant blue. (Here the subject is sky, which is what the sentence was supposed to be about.)

If you are writing a sentence about a guy named Fred, the subject in the sentence should be (surprise!) Fred.

Exercise

Go through a page of prose and underline your own subjects.

How many are abstract?

How many of your sentences are truly focused?

Modifiers

Be sure the modifier refers to the right thing.

The modifier should refer to the closest noun.

Confusing modifiers will trip up the reader, consciously or subconsciously.

By the same token, pronouns should have clear antecedents.

Always place the modifier as close to the subject as possible.

Example: Can you help other writers who are writing books like me? (I got this question recently. I understand what the person is saying, but 'like me' follows the word 'books' so he is implying, without meaning to, that there are people producing books that look like him.)

Better: Can you help other writers like me who are writing books?

Exercise

Color-code a page of your manuscript, making each phrase and clause a different color.

Match up dependent clauses and phrases with their modifiers.

Avoid getting your modifier too far away from the thing being modified.

Deft Description

Choose your details carefully.

A description should be vivid, but surgically precise.

The detail must be given for a reason, and have a logical connection to the plot or advancement of character.

Avoid long "grocery lists" of details.

For a paragraph-length description, offer a uniting theme — an extended metaphor — to give the details cohesion.

Example: He was six feet tall, three hundred pounds, with brown hair, small brown eyes, a big nose and big fists. He wore jeans and a muscle shirt. He looked angry. (this is way too much description for the reader to keep track of, and it is offered as a random list)

Better: He looked like a rhino, ready to charge. (then you can pick a few details that reinforce the image of a rhino)

Exercise

Go through a chapter and delete all adjectives and adverbs.

Read through, then add some back in sparingly.

You may find you can do with less than before.

Parallelism

Clauses or phrases that are part of a list should be similar in structure.

Unparallel constructions are awkward and difficult to read, even if the reader can't put her finger on the exact problem.

Example: He likes dogs, hiking in the woods and reads books a lot. (Dogs is a single noun, hiking in the woods is a participial phrase, reads books a lot is a simple predicate. These are all totally different things. Make them the same, and the sentence will flow much better.)

Better: He likes walking his dog, hiking in the woods, and reading lots of books.

Exercise

Try constructing your descriptions in parallel units — absolutes, infinitives, adjectives.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[velvees-archive]

art cr: @cokiicookies on twitter

Tags: Love Confessions, Bratfeen, Art Student Feenie, Law Student Bratworth, Ace Attorney-typical cringefail, Canon Divergence

and many others!

HEAVILY inspired by @cokiicookies's bratfeen art on twitter! check out the full comic there!!!

"Hey...so...uh..." Phoenix coughs out, voice scratchy from his most recent line repetitions. It's a small mistake, not unsalvageable. All he has to do is stick to the script. Stick to the script. Stick... His eyes flick down to his note cards. He swears he’d printed them in his best penmanship, atop one of the library's extra premium desks, but everything is spinning and he feels faintly like he's going to throw up. "Did you uh," he starts, letters swirling in his eyes. "Did...you fall out of heaven...?" Genius prosecutor-in-training Miles Edgeworth regards him with a blank stare. Phoenix thinks now would be an opportune time for him to locate the nearest possible bridge and promptly jump off of it. - The joys and woes (mostly woes) of being in love, as told by BratFeen.

so i caved and wrote narumitsu. another huge thank you to @cokiicookies on twitter for allowing me to write an accompanying fic for their work. i attached some of the comic here in an attempt to entice you to look at their comic (well? are you enticed?!), but if you wanna see the full thing, please do give their art a like, a retweet, a comment, and all the love on twitter! fic screenshots below:

misc commentary/musings under the cut :)

the way i wrote feenie inner monologue and narration parallels my informal writing style, so writing his freak outs weren't challenging. consciously changing sentence structures/verbiage to be more or less extra, on the other hand, totally was.

the bulk of my pain came from writing fluff in the first place, stumbling through dialogue exchanges (as always), and attempting larry dialogue...all of which i honestly think i failed at pretty badly HAHA. who cares tho? it's my work!

bratfeen is one of my favorite narumitsu "eras" if you will. i've always wanted to write them. i didn't know the opportunity would come so soon (and at my expense considering i still have a zine fic to finalize for a diff fandom), but i took the shot. the full fic was written over the course of a day which i do not recommend anyone experience. i was on a writing hiatus for months and wrote 8k words as soon as i came back. do you see why i burnt out in the first place?

the easiest part about writing bratfeen is that none of the things i write are exaggerated for the purpose of carrying the plot forward. feenie believing that bratworth is better of a human being than everyone makes him out to be? sounds about right. feenie insisting to others that miles is the best thing since grilled cheese? his raging savior complex says that's likely to occur. feenie fumbling the bag because he thinks miles is the prettiest thing he's ever seen? yeah, 20 y/o feenie would! feenie shoving the asshole who talked shit abt miles? we saw the exact same thing with doug swallow (and we all know how that ended...). all of it is in line w his character. also miles being a try hard. that's a given.

i am hoping i can showcase more of my technical skill aka the angst writer in me with my next work, though i've been closely following fictober (haven't been publishing because, again, zine fic obligations) and have plenty of angsty fics stored in my drafts. i hope you enjoy my poor attempt at humor and fluff. may i muster the strength to finish the rest of my zine fic...please...

[meanbossart]

Hellow

I was catching up with the latest chapters of ANE before reading The Spice™️ and I was reminded of how well you build and describe the environment surrounding your characters. Which prompts me to ask:

1 Do you have any drawings/sketches of landscapes and places from ANE that you can/would like to share?

2 Any advice for someone (me) that isn’t really good at putting their characters in places? I always end up with either a ‘too crowded’ or a ‘too barren’ of a setting.

Thank you for reading and hopefully answering my questions byee:3

Hello!!

Thank you! I have no idea what I'm doing so I'm glad I'm able to paint a good enough picture 😅

I do have two VERY simple sketches of the house of blood/the compound that I made to compare against my boyfriend's mental picture of it, basically to see how well I had been able to describe it since it's by far the most challenging area to put down into text.

(everything is very boxy and not exactly the ideal proportion, but again, this was a very simple sketch I made to "aid" the descriptions rather than for it to stand on its own at all) Here you see the "apple core" of the hive with the drow settlement and all the precarious platforms that interconnect and spring out of it. The cabins you see are sometimes two stories high so the area us actually quite big! Which is how Do'zynge is able to walk across the support-beams on the underside of said platforms even though he's rather large for a drider. The catwalk pictured can be moved up and down to connect people to different floors a little faster.

Here's a similar sketch based off of an specific scene, this one focuses more on the walkways built into the walls. I'm not sure why I huddled the doors together so much, they should definitely be more spaced out.

Also, while I used the same shorthand for everything, the spawn living spaces are all wood and stone - from the doors to the floor and railings. While the drow settlement (where Dalyria is too) is mostly metal and well structured tents.

For your second question, that's rough because I am also never quite satisfied with my descriptions 😂but I think that's a part of it; you need to make peace with the fact that you will NOT be able to paint a perfect picture, and think of the whole process as less of a job that you must do alone, but rather a collaboration between you and the reader's own creativity! You have to be willing to put some of the onus on them to imagine what it is you're trying to transcribe, instead feeling under the obligation of giving them exact descriptions for every little thing.

I try to use words that evoke a specific style and mood - say that the room is ornamental, warm, say that it's all golden and red and six sentences from now mention that the couch your character sat in is velvety. Reveal things as they come into relevance instead of interrupting the pace for two entire paragraphs to describe the room your characters just walked into - when appropriate, consider what they would even pay attention to at all and maybe limit yourself to it. Set a rough base for your environment at the start of a scene and then sprinkle descriptors in throughout the prose, and always consider if you truly NEED to get into the specifics of something or if the reader can be left to their own imaginative devices.

Also, unless necessary or some sort of plot device, I find that trying to establish where things are in a room (doors, furniture, stairs) in a map-like manner is a waste of time. Just say "behind him", "to her left", "right ahead", I don't think being overly specific benefits anybody - your reader picturing this set of stairs facing the west rather than the east is unlikely to be consequential to your narrative.

That being said, don't shy away from pointing "unnecessary" things out when they help set a mood, or help in characterization. Way early in ANE there's a scene where DU drow walks into the room where him, Astarion, and Shadowheart have been staying and are now about to leave, he takes note of the fact that one of them made the bed - he doesn't say who, besides that it wasn't himself, but I put that there to hopefully establish from early on that one character's priorities had started to change. In the compound, Dalyria is described as collecting useless things she found in the underground and displaying them around the office - this, on top of her new look, outfit, and company should paint a picture. Irennor's living situation should say all there is to know about him, and the way DU drow dismantles his belongings after only what is immediately valuable instead of considering the historical significance of anything says something about him, too. That's my favorite way of setting scenes, by finding out how to say something about the people in it.

[eternalmomentss]

yes king give us the orym meta!

You asked so nicely...

Oh boy, oh boy, where to even start. This has probably been said a million times before, so I might just word vomit a little bit here. I fear this might get a little messy, but just hold on...

So, first of all I have never really enjoyed the idea that Orym is the rational one in the party or that he serves as the one and only true moral compass. I've seen the take that he is the only "normal" person in this group and that he might have exploded and left them at any second because their chaotic, stubborn and messy nature doesn't fit in with his own personality and values. To that I have to say no, he is not the "normal" one, he is not the most "morally correct" one, and yes he fits in very well with this group.

Orym is heavily biased when it comes to the idea of what justice is and what the right course of action might be in their situation, which - just like with most of Bell's Hells, is due to his trauma and genuine concern for the world. His experience with it has just been very different and he gravitates toward the "pro-god" / "anti-ludinus/predathos" side of the conflict because of it, unlike most of the other Hells. But that doesn't mean he isn't a necessary and valuable part of the entire puzzle that led to the outcome they eventually decided on.

Most of the time Orym himself doesn't even realize just how stubbornly narrow-minded and biased he is and how his idea of justice becomes more and more resentful and unyielding. In a way, it's the exact same thing as with say Ash or Dorian, who hold onto their hatred of the gods and the system due to their own trauma. Just because Orym's raw disdain is directed at a more well defined embodiment of a "big bad villain" rather than a concept, doesn't mean it's different at its core. His beliefs kind of remained stagnant and onesided with the appearance of Luda, which makes complete sense. Being confronted with the source of all his misery obviously does that, but he is not more moral or correct than the rest of the group because if it. He says he doesn't want revenge but it's a clear lie.

He regresses hard throughout the course of the narrative, which is the entire focus of his character arc. In his case, regression is progression. He goes from claiming that his family died fulfilling their duty and protecting their home to insisting they died for nothing and Luda is responsible for everything bad that has ever happened in the world. He gets stuck in this deep hatred and focuses on this strict narrative to ease his own feelings of guilt and try to make sense of his trauma (which is valid, of course, I am not saying he shouldn't hate Luda). But with each new terrible thing that happens, he finds a way to pin it on Da'leth. When they discuss the power structure of the current situation, he circles back to the man again and again, even in moments when they really didn't mean to talk about him (for example, at Essek's when Ash and Dorian lamented the power imbalance between gods and people and Orym immediately felt attacked and made it about Ludinus again). He is unable to seperate the two concepts in his head. There is evil, which is Ludinus and there is in turn good, which is everything and anything that man calls an enemy: the gods and the current status quo, because it stands in contrast to him.

And yes he says he is not pro-god, but his understanding and sympathy of the gods grows at the same pace that his hatred for Luda does, to the point that what he fears about Predathos actually happens with the Wildmother (she accidentally pushes him to hard and has her "steps on ants" moment so to speak), but he overlooks it, latches onto her and is quick to forgive, because they have a common enemy and that's all that matters.

Orym's idea of good and bad is basically along the lines of "the thing that hurt me and the side that's against it" (and I am not sayin that isn't understandable, it absolutely is, given what he has been through). He cannot let go of that idea. He kills Ludinus and he enjoys the idea of getting rid of something evil, but once he has done it, he feels empty. Because really, he didn't succeed in snuffing out all evil in the world or ending his pain and guilt just by killing that man. He didn't fix the situation, like he so adamantly told himself he could. It's not that easy. In that moment, he realizes that this is so much bigger and so much more complicated. For probably the first time, Orym has to cave, he shuts down completely because now he sees that the world was never that black and white to start with. And it's so, so heartbreaking.

Orym is fundamentally just as scared and biased and bitter as everyone else. And he does everything to reach his own goals. He gets himself into a pact with Morri, he gaslights himself into believing he has to sell his entire soul away for it (which we know now was never true), risks being enslaved and losing his life. He persists on being noble and dutiful to the point where he feels the need to keep sacrificing himself, keep pushing, keep doing the things he has been doing all this time. In those moments when he might start to see the greyscales around him and he needs to question his own judgement. He needs to revaluate and make this journey make sense again, because there is no way he could be wrong at this point, right? Not after all this time. It's a compulsion inside of him, it makes him run in circles.

(Here I would like to say; I enjoy he idea of ptsd and ocd Orym, which has come up a few times. It really does work well, especially considering the obsessive and compulsive thoughts and behaviour, rituals, rumination, etc.

I am not a therapist, nor am I qualified to porperly evaluate a fictional character's mental state, so of course I cannot claim to know this for sure, it's a headcanon I've seen pop up that I found to be fitting.)

So, there ya go....

Orym of the Air Ashari I adore you, you are not okay.

[rosquinn]

i've re-read the catcher in the rye recently, and as holden is one of my favourite classic literature narrators i've tried to break down a couple parts of his way of talking that intrigue me. expect this to be a (quite disorganized) long post + warning for mentions of suicide, SA, death, everything that comes with the catcher in the rye.

holden's fame as a whiny narrator does surprise me even more now because he doesn't actually complain about anything bad that's happened to him. he projects anger and sadness onto small, trivial things, like movies, for example, and brushes off all of the traumatic events he's been through (the death of his brother, being assaulted by teachers, watching a classmate commit suicide, etc) and his suicidal thoughts. and when he does mention them, he changes the subject immediately:

this is the last paragraph of chapter 14. here, holden uses words such as "feeling like", "probably" and "if" to make suicidal ideation seem a lot less concerning than it is, referring to it as a momentary thought that doesn't have much importance and then looking for a excuse to stop talking about it. he doesn't explain it, he doesn't address it directly and avoids elaborating about it. given the many things he has to say about schools, religion, movies and all you'd think he'd be talkative about his own life and personal feelings, but it's something he tries to mention the least he can.

a significantly more "unserious" moment when he mentions suicide is the ending paragraph of chapter 18:

holden switches from talking about things he likes to suicidal ideation tied to an impossibility and an hyperbole to make it seem less serious, then immediately closes the chapter to not have to elaborate. he uses hyperboles a lot as well-- "i'm crazy about x", "that killed me", specially when talking about trivial matters. i feel like he (unconciously) does this to make the reader get used to his "disproportionate" reactions to things that aren't that serious, so him thinking about killing himself isn't something that specially catches their attention, and they can forget about it as quickly as he does.

moving on:

end of chapter 24, and once again, he uses slang even in moments when he feels threatened-- he doesn't switch to a more "serious" vocabulary (he even keeps the hyperboles!), he talks the exact same way to the reader when he's chatting with a woman at the bus stop as when he's described how he was sexually assaulted by his teachers as a child,

again, he avoids addressing the situation directly ("that kind of stuff", "something perverty") and immediately drives the attention to his own reaction to it, attributes it a cause he can't control and closes the sentence, without really explaining anything. it follows the same structure as the ch14 scene:

mention of a traumatic experience or a dangerous thought -> vague description of his reaction to it, without referring to his thoughts in depth -> correlation to something he can't do anything about as an explanation (sweating, people finding his body) -> chapter abruptly ends and the subject changes.

now, it should be added on to this that holden uses escapism quite often as a coping mechanism:

(↑ chapter 14, right before the paragraph about suicide)

(↑ start of chapter 20)

and the structure repeats! hyperboles, slang, blaming it on something he can't control (alcohol this time), then switching to another subject. talk about avoidance

another interesting thing i noticed is that he replicates some parts of the speech of people he's met: he says "certainly" quite often despite making fun of carl luce for talking like that. funny thing is, he imitates luce's vocabulary (which he related to luce wanting to show off and appear as mature) when he talks to his little sister phoebe:

he says it after saying sure, when there is no need to. it has a slightly mocking tone.

there's probably more things that are worth noticing, but these caught my attention the most

[squoxle]

˚₊‧꒰ა All Good Girls Burn In Hell ♡ S.Eunseok ff ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

💠pairing: Eunseok x Reader!afab | 💠wc: 7.1k | 💠cw: profanity, religious themes, drug use, abuse, coercion, protected and unprotected sex | 💠plot: Your tired of being mommy’s little girl so you sneak out to a college party with the Devil’s Advocate…

With the pressure of being the perfect daughter weighing on your shoulders, the last thing you needed right now was a boy. Especially not when that boy was Song Eunseok He was everything you weren’t and the complete opposite of what your parents believed in. Rule Breaker. Trouble Maker. Bad Boy.

His beauty... charmed you like a snake, entrapping you in his comforting grasp before crushing the life out of you.

His words... were like the devil’s music, enchanting you with his lovely tune as he led you down a path of darkness.

And his eyes... God his eyes were the most delicate yet aggressive feature of his face. Boldly standing out with a gentle aura surrounding them.

He was the perfect temptation. Sent by Satan himself to draw you away from purity and righteousness.

And you were the perfect target. You were weak and he could tell, which is what made corrupting you that much easier.

Your home life was just about as chaotic as you'd expect an extremely religious family to be.

“Honor thy father and thy mother, for this is the first commandment with promise,” she would say this whenever you did anything remotely ‘disrespectful’ in her eyes. “Don’t you want to live a long and happy life?”

Sometimes her words felt like vain repetition or taunts echoing through your head, as her method of reprimanding you often came in the form of lectures.

The neurotic controlling nature of your mother could only be tamed by one thing—aside from the public eye—and that one thing was…your father.

Unfortunately he was no longer around and your mother often blamed you for his absence.

Your mother taught you that a wife should submit to her husband for he is the head of the family and you--as his wife--are to be his helpmate.

Though that sounds fair, for the most part, Mom had a much harsher way of embedding what she believed into the lives of her children. Especially her daughters.

After your rebellious older sister ran off 4 years ago with her motorcycle-riding girlfriend, all hell broke loose at home. You had now been promoted to the oldest of the siblings and were therefore subject to physical pain on top of everything else. It felt like you permanently resided within the confines of a chapel, which often felt more like a prison than a home.

You’d had enough of this torture. You needed a break away from the unreasonably structured environment. Just for once, you wanted to feel like you were the one pulling the strings.

Never did you expect to hand your strings over to a new puppet master.

To keep things brief, you'd met Eunseok through your best friend Faith. Ironically, she was a girl you met at Sunday school in 9th grade who definitely wasn’t the perfect little angel people thought she was.

One time her dad almost caught her smoking outside. The way she launched that bud halfway across the street before sticking a sucker in her mouth was insane. Another time you could remember her telling you the story of how she snuck a boy into her room to have sex while her parents were sleeping…well the boy was her boyfriend, but still.

She had a wild side that you found alluring. Which made you wonder if you had a one too, well one apart from the scenarios you enacted in your imagination.

As a freshman in college, you were ready to try to relax a little.

"Or maybe not," you thought to yourself as you woke up to the sound of religious music playing from the kitchen. Your mother did this nearly every morning at the exact same time, almost like clockwork.

You could smell the coffee brewing, coupled with the scent of bread toasting. You knew you could only roll around in bed for a few more minutes before it was time to get up. Not only did you still have a bedtime, but you also had a specific time to wake up. No later than 8 o'clock were you expected to be out of your pajamas and have your bed made.

"Nothing comes to a man in his sleep, but dreams," another saying your mother loved repeating.

You lived in a house with two younger twin brothers and shared a room with your big sister. Though, now that she was gone, dust bunnies were the only thing sleeping in her bed.

One thing you had to learn was to be the first one in the bathroom. Sometimes you'd get up earlier to avoid the chaotic morning bustle.

After getting dressed you grabbed an apple for breakfast and waited for your mom to drop you off for your first day of uni. Luckily, you and Faith were going to the same university, so that eliminated the anxiety that came with being completely alone on a huge campus for the next four years of your life.

Unfortunately, loneliness, like most of your other personal problems, was none of your mother's concern. "Read and pray," she'd tell you. "The Lord will comfort you."

As this was your first semester in college, you decided to knock out a good chunk of your core classes, English, Math, History, and Politics.

After 3 hours that felt more like a lifetime, your first lecture had finally ended. By now hungry didn't compare to what you were experiencing right now. Unfortunately, you forgot to bring your wallet which meant that water would have to fill you up for now.

“I can already tell this semester is going suck ass. And the next 16 weeks of my life or going to be a nightmare from hell,” Faith sighed as she dropped her backpack on the ground beside her.

You had met up with her outside at one of the round red tables that were scattered across the open green field.

"Oh, come on you can’t say that. It’s only the first day, give it about a week or so, and then see if you still feel the same way," you said trying to encourage her to look on the bright side.

"No, you don’t get it. This guy hates me, like literally hates me. You should've seen the way he looked at me," she sighed. "God, he was such a fucking scumbag."

"Who?"

"My stupid fucking sociology professor. He started nagging about some bullshit and I called him out for it," she rolled her eyes before pulling out a box of cigarettes. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," you held your hand up. "Wait this is a no-smoking zone," you said as Faith lit the end.

"Shit, my bad," she shrugged before picking up her bag and walking off. "You're coming, aren't you? You're not just gonna tell me I can't smoke here and expect me to go off by myself," she held the cigarette between her two fingers.

"No, sorry, I'm coming," you stuttered.

"You better."

You followed your blue-eyed friend to a brick wall that was high enough that when you sat on it your feet couldn't touch the ground.

"So I guess we found our secret place," Faith smiled. "A sweet escape from the terrors of uni and their stupid, boring bullshit," she puffed.

You and Faith often found little areas that you claimed as your own. This was just another spot to add to your map of many discrete destinations.

"Woah, what the hell was that?" Faith looked as your stomach growled uncomfortably loud.

"All I had was an apple this morning and I'm starving," you sighed before cracking open your water bottle to take a sip.

"Well, that water isn't gonna do shit for ya. Let's go grab you something to eat," she hopped off the wall before putting her cigarette out on a rock.

"I can't...I forgot my wallet at home and my mom is already on her way here," you sighed before joining her on the ground.

"So what? I have money. Besides, it's not like she's gonna kill you for grabbing something to eat," Faith slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm kinda hungry myself."

You’d be lying if you said you didn't have a slight gut feeling that your mom would be upset about this. But maybe Faith was right. There's no way your mom would get mad at you for eating...right?

After splitting a sandwich you headed to the front of the school to find your mom parked in a handicap spot. You waved to Faith as you walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

"So, how was your first day of college?" your mom asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"It was good," you nodded as your mom pulled down the sun visor to reapply her Cherry Blossom Bliss tinted lipgloss. "How was your day?" you asked as you placed your bag on the floor between your legs as you looked out of the window.

"Good," she said plainly as she closed the car mirror and closed her gloss before tucking it away in her clutch bag.

You drove around a bit in silence before you heard the sound of her coin-filled bag swinging through the air. Hitting you in the mouth. Strangely enough, you heard the soft jingle before you actually felt the pain.

"Don't ever keep me waiting like that again. When I come here to pick you up you need to be ready," your mother said as you turned to her in shock, covering your mouth that was now decorated with a sliver of blood that seeped through the crack of your lower lip.

"But, I--" Your attempt to explain yourself was cut off by the stinging pain from your head as your mother dug her nails into your scalp.

"Are you talking back? Don't talk back to me you fucking brat," she spat. At this point, you knew that saying or doing anything else was just going to trigger her to spiral so you wiped the tear from your eye, attempted to fix your hair, and sat back in silence until you made it home.

It was moments like this that you wanted someone to vent to. But what good would that do? Even if you told Faith about this nothing would change. This was your life and the only smart thing you could do was learn from your mistakes.

Don't be late.

Don't talk back.

The next couple of weeks were like the first minus getting attacked for being late. You went to class, you did your homework, and you hung out with Faith. Today, your class had ended early since it was almost spring break and you took this as an opportunity to spend more time with Faith before your mom came to pick you up.

But today was a day to mark on your calendar as the beginning of your ending...

“Hey, Faith,” you said shyly as you noticed the two boys that sat with her. One of them being none other than Eunseok.

She waved to you tapping a spot beside her for you to sit. “Hey girl, we were just talking about going to one of the fraternity houses this weekend for a little get-together,” she smiled mischievously. "What d'you say? Wanna join us for some life-changing fun?"

You knew that look, and nothing good ever came from that. You’d been invited to gatherings like this before and always declined. You never regretted your decision either, especially when she’d tell you about all of the horrible things that happened. Faith never saw the stories how you did, they all sounded like exciting retellings of the glorious moments you missed out on.

"No that's alright," you chuckled as she glared at you with her big blue puppy dog eyes.

"Pleeeeeease," she whined, pouting her lips and squeezing your thigh.

"No, Faith," you giggled. "You're just gonna run off and leave me all by myself."

"I'll be there," Eunseok smirked. "In case she does abandon you," he sat on the opposite side of you placing his arm behind you.

"I-uhh," you stammered.

"Cool it big boy, she's not into that kind of stuff," Faith budded.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know she was gay," Eunseok said, slightly backing away.

"Oh no. I'm not gay," you spat.

"Okay then, lesbian? Bisexual?"

"No, I'm straight. I just don't like boys," you were doing an awful job at pleading your case and you could see Faith holding in her laughter as she watched the awkward interaction between you two.

"How the hell are you straight, but you don't like boys? That makes no fucking sense."

"No. Wait. I like boys, but I'm not allowed to date."

"Who said anything about dating," he chuckled. "Are you already trying to claim me?"

"I never said that. I mean. Ugh, nevermind," you sighed.

"Relax, I'm just joking. Faith already told me about preserving your purity."

"Yep, I sure did. So you don't have to worry about him trying to lead you astray," Faith smiled.

"Eh hmm," the other boy cleared his throat.

"Oh, right. I forgot. This is Theo. I met him a year ago at a party and we've been friends ever since," Faith said as the boy waved.

"You got me over here feeling like an outcast," he smirked.

"Well, she barely knows that goofball, Eunseok. I think this was the first conversation they ever had." Their conversation faded in the background as you dug deep into your mind only to realize that this was your first time actually speaking to Eunseok.

You were much younger when you first met and you've always been one to keep to yourself. Plus, your sister had just left and life at home wasn't so great. So there wasn't much to talk about.

"So, you're coming right?"

"Huh?"

"The party this weekend...you're coming right?" Faith asked again.

"I don't think so. Sorry," you replied.

"Hmm...well I'm not gonna force you. Maybe next time," she said patting your shoulder. "Oh shit," she sighed as you noticed your mom walking over to you.

"I've been waiting in the car for over an hour now and you're out here goofing off with boys?"

"Mom, it's not like that I was just--"

"I don't wanna hear it. Go get in the car. Right now. We're going home," your mom looked everything but happy right now. She must've known you got out early and had been waiting for you all this time. Scared didn't begin to describe what you were feeling right now.

To your surprise, the entire ride was silent. Even when you made it home, pure silence. You went upstairs to take a shower before going to your room to study.

As you were going through your drawers to pick out an outfit, a head-spinning blow knocked you to the ground. Your mother's angry face hovered over you as she raised her hand to hit you again.

"You attention-seeking slut," she sneered. "You're just like your whoring sister," she hummed before grabbing your hair and dragging you to the middle of your room.

"I didn't do anything! I swear," you whined. "We were just talking!"

"First you'll have boys kissing and touching all over you. And the next thing you know, you'll be with a girl too. You'll be confused and broken. Just like your sister," your mother's eyes pierced through your soul like fiery daggers as she continued to berate you.

"I wish you had been born a boy like your brothers. I'd rather have a house full of men than one filled with whores in training," her words lingered in the air as she walked over to your bedroom door. "Sometimes, I wish your sister would've taken you with her."

Every word you thought of saying was caught in your throat. You were being choked by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and disparity. This was a common pattern whenever your mom would get violent.

Senseless slut shaming and misjudgment of your character coupled with the clawing sensation of her nails digging into your scalp was too much.

Dragging your hand across your face, you wiped the tears from your cheeks as you curled up into a ball on the floor. The sound of the ceiling fan clinking blended with the ticking of the clock that hung on your wall. You ended up falling asleep on the floor with your knees to your chest.

If not for the lamp on your desk, you'd be in complete darkness.

The next morning you woke up earlier than you normally would. This gave you a chance to shower before going to school.

The water ran down your body as you thought back to what happened last night. You turned your back to the pouring water but flinched as you were met with a stinging pain. You looked over your shoulder to see small scratches on your back--likely from being dragged across the carpet floor.

You searched under the bathroom cabinet for something to clean the wound with. Nothing but a bottle of toner stared back at you.

"Well there's alcohol in it," you mumbled to yourself as you poured the liquid on a cotton ball. You dabbed every spot within your reach before throwing your clothes on.

"You alright?" Eunseok asked. His voice caught you off guard as you drifted off into your thoughts. Faith had walked off for a smoke break with Theo, leaving you behind with the dark-eyed boy.

"Yeah," you smiled feignly.

His energy was different than it had been before. Maybe it was because he saw how your mom behaved when she saw you guys talking.

"You sure? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit," he said tilting his head to meet your eyes.

"There's just a lot on my mind right now," you sighed.

"Wanna talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener."

"No, I'm okay. It's not like that'll do anything anyway," you sniffed. Crying was the one thing you'd never do in public. And you'd rather struggle on your own than bring other people into your personal business for no reason.

"Alright, fine. Well then how about we not talk about it together this weekend."

"I can't go to that party. My mom would kill me."

"Well, you look like you're halfway in the grave already. You could use a bit of excitement in your life."

"But I've never...I can't..."

"You're an adult. You can't let your mom dictate your life forever," you were quiet before he continued. "I'm sure you can just ask your dad, right?"

"Yeah, that would probably work if he was still around."

"Oh...sorry I didn't know."

"It's fine. He's not dead, but he might as well be. I'm sure my mom would be happier if he was."

"If you don't me asking...what happened anyway?"

"Well, basically he left us because my mom is literally insane. They would always fight. And one night he came into our bedroom and slid a note under our pillow," you thought back to the feeling of him placing a kiss on your forehead as you laid there pretending to be asleep. You watched as he wiped the tears from his face. To this day you regret not saying anything. Not doing anything.

"That was the last time you saw him?"

"Yeah..."

"You're going to that party," Eunseok whispered before placing his hand on top of yours.

"How?"

"I'll sneak you out on Saturday night," He said pulling out his phone. "What's your number?"

You looked down at your hands as you shamefully replied. "Even if I give you my phone number, my mom takes it at night time..."

"Damn. Well, I'll just give you my old phone. I barely use it now so I won't be looking for it," he said reaching into his bag. He pulled out the smaller black phone which was protected by a bulky plastic case. "It's a dinosaur, but it still works," he chuckled.

"Are you sure? What if I get caught?"

"Relax, you won't. You just have to keep it hidden until tomorrow night. After that, you're in the clear," he smiled.

"Okay, but if I get in trouble it's all you're fault and I'll probably never forgive you," you said as you took the phone from his hands.

Maybe a night out would do you good...

To be completely honest, it didn't take much convincing to get you on board. He was attractive as hell and as much as you hated it, he definitely had an effect on you.

"Deal," he chuckled as he watched you slip the phone into your bag.

"What are you losers yapping about?" Faith grinned as she skipped back over to you and Eunseok.

"Uh--"

"I was just helping our little friend plan her escape," Eunseok said, cutting you off as he pulled you in for a side hug. "Isn't that right?"

You nodded as Theo clapped his hands together. "Awesome! Another innocent soul to claim for Satan," he words sent chills up your spine as you thought back to what happened the night before.

"Hey? You alright?" Faith asked as your face went blank.

"Yeah...I was just umm...I was just thinking about some stuff," you replied, trying your best to play it off. "Shoot!" you spat.

"What?" Faith asked.

"My mom is on her way. I gotta go," You snatched your bag up and began walking off.

"Oh...but--"

"Sorry, I don't wanna get in trouble again," you continued as you drifted back into your thoughts.

"Hey," you felt a large hand palm your shoulder. You whipped around to see Eunseok standing in front of you. "If you ever need someone to talk to, remember that I'm here for you," you nodded as his hands slid down your arms to your hands.

A warm feeling rushed to your face as all of your previous worries melted away. It was like he was the first person to take your mind off of everything negative in your life. He was like a drug and you were afraid to get addicted.

You both stared at each other for a bit before he pulled you in for a hug. "I'll be over to break you out tomorrow night. Don't forget, okay?" His voice sounded even more soothing when he held you close. The gentle vibrations from his throat were just about as relaxing as soaking in a hot tub.

You hummed in response before walking off to join your mom in the car.

11:24pm tomorrow night...

You quietly tiptoed through the darkness of your bedroom to your dresser. You pulled out the bottom drawer to grab Eunseok's phone from its hidden place.

Feelings of guilt, fear, and anxiety tugged at your heart as you thought back to the moment between you and your mom in the car the day before.

"I'm really sorry for how I reacted the other day..." your mom bit her lip as she gripped the steering wheel. "It's just that I'm afraid to lose you the way I lost your sister..."

You could feel the genuine pain and regret in her tone as she poured out to you.

"I don't want you to make terrible mistakes that you'll regret in the future. And sometimes...exploding is the only way I know how to fix it. That's how my parents were with me."

This was no excuse for her actions, but this did make you feel a sense of pity for her. It was almost enough to make you cancel. But you needed this more than anything else right now.

You just wanted a small taste of what else life had to offer you...

Anything was better than spending all of your free time in this hellhole.

You powered the phone on to text Eunseok.

"She's sleep. You can come pick me up whenever." you sighed as you waited anxiously for him to text back.

"Alright, princess. Your knight in shining armor is on the way to rescue you from the evil dragon." Reading his text made you giggle a bit as you struggled to find anything remotely skimpy to wear. Nothing but an old baby blue dress from your sister hung idly in the back of your closet.

You quickly hopped into the dress and slipped into a pair of silver heels.

*Tap. Tap. Tap*

The tapping sound from the window nearly made you jump out of your skin. The moonlight dimly lit your features as you turned to see Eunseok's face behind the glass. You tapped your finger against your lips, signalling him to stop.

You opened the window and stuck out your first leg to climb out. Eunseok came close to guide you out by the waist. "You ready?" he smirked.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," he chuckled, grabbing your hand and running with you to his orange Dodge Challenger. You climbed into the passenger seat as Eunseok closed the door behind you.

Your heart was beating fast as hell, probably the fastest it's ever beat in your life. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you lied. Your throat was so dry it felt like you had cotton in your mouth.

"You might be able to lie to your mom, but you can't lie to me. You look like a scared little puppy," he smiled, scanning your body. "Nice dress."

"Thanks, it was my sister's."

"Well you look amazing in it," he turned the keys and you felt the seats rumble gently beneath you. You watched as Eunseok reached down to pull out a V-pen. He breathed in slowly before blowing out the sweet strawberry-scented vapor. "Here. Take this. It'll relax you," he said handing your the plug.

"Uhh...I'm okay. I don't smoke."

"Come on, just try it once. If you don't like it you can stop."

You hesitantly opened your mouth as he brought the device to your lips.

"Just suck it in slowly. Let it fill your lungs and don't try breathing out of your nose at the same time--" You began coughing aggressively, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Or that'll happen," he chuckled, before patting your back.

You looked at him through watery eyes as he reached to hand you a water bottle. "Don't worry, I didn't drink any of it yet."

"Thanks," you sniffed.

"So, what'd you think? D'you like it?"

"It tastes good, but to be honest I didn't notice much of a difference aside from coughing my brains out."

"Well, that one was kinda weak. Hold on. Imma give you something a little stronger," he smiled as he drove to a red light. "Look in the glove box and pull out that little red case," he directed you, pointing his finger at the glove box.

You sifted through the other miscellaneous objects before finding the red case. You placed it in his hand and watched as he pulled out another smoking device.

"Alright, I'm gonna go first and you just copy me okay?" he licked his lips before clasping them around the metal tip. "Just take a little bit first," he said after blowing out the cloud of smoke.

Remembering the mistake you made last time, you sucked in slowly.

"Woah, woah. That should be good enough," Eunseok chuckled as you inhaled the herby smoke.

You blew out the smoke, filling the car with the scent. You still coughed a bit, but it wasn't as bad as before. "That's weed, by the way," Eunseok smiled. "You should be feeling it in a bit."

He wasn't wrong either. You felt a sense of alertness wash over you.

"We're almost there," Eunseok said as he entered a subdivision before pulling up to a house shortly after. Cars were lined up the street, most likely belonging to the other partygoers. You could even hear the music blasting as you sat in the car with Eunseok.

This was the first time you finally noticed that Faith wasn't there. The amount of questionable decisions you were making in such a short time even shocked you.

You walked with Eunseok into to the lively house party hosted by Theo who greeted you at the door with Jell-O shots. "It's about time you got here, princess. We've been waiting for you," he smiled as he took down the cherry-flavored shot you rejected. "Did you get my message?"

"What message?" you asked.

"This one," he said, grabbing your hand to spin you around. "Wanna dance?"

"No, that's alright," you chuckled as he pouted playfully.

"Your loss. I'm a terrific dancer--"

"If by terrific you mean terrible then I'd definitely agree with you," Faith said cutting Theo off. "Hey girl, what do you think of the party? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Well, we just got here a couple minutes ago."

"Yeah, and I was having a conversation with her until you came over here interrupting us," he poked her nose.

"Puh-lease. I'm sure she's glad I came over here to save her from your boring ass."

"Boring? Boring?! I'll show you whose boring."

"I'm already looking at you dummy," Faith playfully pushed Theo's shoulder. "If you really wanna dance then let's go," she giggled, leading Theo to a corner by the tip of his chin.

"Heh, later princess," he waved to you.

You watched as Theo grabbed Faith's hips. She swayed her hips, grinding her ass against him as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. A seductive smirk crept across her face as Theo turned her around to face him. He caressed her thigh as he lifted her leg, wrapping it around him. He slowly leaned into her lips, hanging centimeters away from her soft pink lips before she placed her finger on his lips.

"I thought we were just dancing," she beamed.

"Dancing and kissing?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Uh uh. Man, these shots have you acting extra horny today huh?"

You shook your head, scanning the room for Eunseok. You couldn't believe you were staring at them for that long. You didn't see him anywhere in the kitchen so you went out into the hall to look for him somewhere else.

To be honest, if Faith wasn’t busy teasing Theo, you'd probably be hanging out with her right now. But, Eunseok wasn’t so bad. You actually enjoyed his company. 

Still feeling a bit fuzzy and lightheaded from the hit earlier you swayed through the partygoers, silently searching for a familiar face. You were more of a shy person, so engaging with random strangers wasn’t exactly at the top of your list. 

“Hey, ~” a dark-haired girl waved to you as she was being dragged off to a bedroom down the hall. “Wanna come have fun with us?” 

“No, that’s alright,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“Oh come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while,” the boy said, releasing the other girl’s hand to run his nose against the skin on your neck. 

“I said, no,” you spat, pushing him away after he licked the exposed skin on your chest.

“Oh, you wanna play hard to get, huh?” He smirked devilishly as he pressed you against the wall. 

You struggled beneath his weight as you looked down to see that the girl had passed out on the floor. Knowing that this was going nowhere good, you swung your free hand to hit him straight in the mouth. 

“Argh!” He winced, licking the blood from the broken skin on his lower lip. “You little bitch! You’re gonna regret doing that,” he spat, grabbing your wrist, and twisting it slightly. You groaned at the burning pain travelling down your arm before kicking him between his legs which made him drop to the floor. 

While he was on his knees swearing and shouting out all of the horrible things he was gonna do to you, you shook the collapsed girl to try and wake her up. There was no way in hell you were gonna leave her in the hands of this monster. 

“Are we gonna play now?” She hummed. “Hmm, I’m sleepy. Can I stay here?” 

“No, come on. I gotta get you out of here,” you tugged at her arms. “No girl left behind.”

The boy must’ve been feeling better by the time you finally got her to stand as you felt a set of hands push you to the ground. He grabbed you by the ankles and started to drag you down the hall. 

Even though you kicked your legs in an attempt to fight him off, it was useless, he was much stronger than you and you didn’t stand a chance against him now. 

Dazed, but conscious enough to see what was going on, the dark-haired girl ran off. 

“Dammit,” you thought to yourself. Closing your eyes shut, you prepared yourself to just accept your fate. A set of footsteps ran up the hall toward you as you felt the boy drop your legs to the ground. 

“Ugh!” He groaned as you opened your eyes to see a beer bottle had been smashed against his head. 

You watched as Eunseok punched the boy in the face until blood came from his nose. His hair bounced at the force of every blow. You could tell he had broken his nose by the way his face had contorted. 

“Let’s go,” Eunseok said, looking at you still on the ground. He grabbed the boy by the shirt and proceeded to drag him to the front door. “Does your brother know you’re here?” He spat looking to the dark-haired girl who you assumed ran to get Eunseok. 

“I’m almost 18. I can make my own decisions,” she stuttered. 

“Right, and we see where that almost got you. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Eunseok said as he walked up to a dark-skinned guy. “Lance! Can you keep an eye on this fucker? The cops are already on their way for him.” Eunseok said as he abandoned the lunatic who tried to assault you and the other girl. “He was trying to make a move on Eunchae.”

“Sure, man. I’ll hold him until the cops get here,” the boy whom Eunseok called Lance smiled as Eunseok walked outside with you and the other girl. “Tell your brother I said hi,” he chuckled as you walked outside. 

“Get your ass in the backseat,” Eunseok spat as Eunchae folded her arms. “And put this on,” He said as he pulled off his oversized varsity jacket and draped it over her shoulders. 

“Wait! I forgot my phone,” Eunchae exclaimed as the car started up. 

“Too bad, I’ll have Theo hold onto it for you. We’re leaving,” Eunchae sat quietly in the backseat as you drove almost 30 minutes to a black and white apartment complex. 

Acting like a spoiled child, Eunchae refused to go up the stairs. You could see that Eunseok was more than fed up with her bullshit as he threw her over his shoulder and walked up the stairs to knock on the door. 

Eunseok, placed Eunchae on the doormat in front of him as he waited for the door to open.

“You’re not doing a very good job at babysitting her, Seunghan. Maybe you should send her back by your mom and dad,” he said as he poked her cheek. 

“Yeah, I might do that because she’s obviously not ready to be an adult yet—“

“No! Ugh! You never let me do anything,” she huffed as she stormed to her room.

“Thanks for bringing her back, bro. I thought she wasn’t feeling well because she went to bed early.”

“Eh, it’s alright. But you seriously need to keep an eye on her. Oh, and Theo has her phone. He’ll probably bring it over later.”

“Okay, it’s not like she needs it anyway,” Seunghan chuckled as he closed the door.

You followed Eunseok back to the car as he started it up again. 

“Sorry,” he said after taking a hit of the weed from earlier. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t exactly the fairytale ending you were expecting,” he sighed.

"Well, it's definitely been interesting," you scoffed lightheartedly.

"Did you want to go back to the party or to my place? It's quieter there."

"Umm, wherever you want to go is fine with me."

You were hoping that he'd choose his place. Mainly because the party felt more like a freak show, a disaster waiting to happen.

"M'kay. My place it is," he said before pulling off.

He didn't live far from Seunghan so the drive was relatively short. You followed him up the stairs before entering his apartment which was uncomfortably cold.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to contain some of the heat that was rapidly escaping your body.

"I would've offered you my jacket, but I already gave it to Eunchae," Eunseok said as he turned off the air.

"It's alright," you said sucking in your breath.

"C'mere," Eunseok whispered softly as he pulled you into his grasp.

Your cheeks burned hot as you felt the warmth from his body coupled with the feeling of his breath on your neck.

After a short silent moment, he turned your body to face him. He was met with a warm and submissive look on your face. A sense of innocence wrapped up by desire.

He leaned in to kiss your lips. Little did he know that this was your first kiss.

You freely allowed him to take the lead biting and sucking on your lips as he pulled your body closer to his. You quickly pulled away as you felt his bulge brush up against your core.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you eyes fell to the ground.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—“

“No, I want to. It’s just that…”

“It’s just what?”

“I haven’t really done anything like this before.”

“Kissing or sex?”

“Both…”

“Oh…sorry, I didn’t know. I kinda just assumed you had done something.”

“There’s a lot that I haven’t done.”

“Well we can stop now if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going. Just take it slow with me.”

Eunseok led you to his room that was fairly empty. Nothing but a king-sized bed, a small night stand, and a laundry bin occupied the floor space.

You stood at the foot of his bed as he began kissing you again. Though this was your first kiss, you never expected it to feel so good. Again, you felt his hardness press against you, but this time you welcomed the sensation.

You felt his hands blindly move across your back stopping at the zipper before pulling it down. He pulled out of the kiss to slide your dress down before directing you to stand up and sit on his lap.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt a bit shy about being naked in front of someone.

He slid your panties down before he wrapped an arm around you. He reached his finger down to glide between your lips. The amount of wetness definitely wasn’t ready for his cock just yet, so he spit on his fingers before massaging your clit.

You jerked your body as he used his fingers on you. Gripping onto his arms, you threw your head back as he inserted one finger into your pussy. Your tightness gripped around his finger as you let out a soft moan.

He slowly pulled his finger back and forth grazing the flesh of your g-spot before picking up the pace.

You watched as he pulled his finger out completely covered in your wetness.

“Okay, what do you want to do first? We can go straight into sex or I can eat you out?”

“I wanna go straight into sex,” you replied as you stood up.

“M’kay. Let me go grab something first,” he said before leaving the room. You waited on his bed, playing with the wetness between your legs.

He came back shortly after and pulled down his pants to reveal his pulsing hard-on.

“I’m gonna put this on to make it easier for you,” he said as torn open the packaging that contained a dark blue condom. You watch as he slid it down his length before climbing onto the bed. “You’re gonna get on top okay,” he continued as you hesitantly straddled him.

You leaned forward to place your hands on his chest as he guided his cock to your opening. Slowly, he pulled you hips down gliding his lubricated dick deep inside of you. You whined as he broke through your hymen. A slight burning feeling filled your core.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned as he thrusted into your pussy. More swears left his lips before he came inside of the condom. You felt his warm seed fill you up as he laid there breathless.

“I didn’t expect you to be so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Alright, now you gotta suck the cum off so I can fuck you raw. That was my last rubber,” he sighed, fluffing his hair between his fingers.

He pulled the condom off before you went down to wrap your lips around him, sucking off the cum before gagging slightly on his length.

Once clean he bent you over on your hands and knees and plowed into your pussy as you came closer to your climax. He pulled out his cock to insert two of his digits into your gummy hole as you reached between your legs to rub your clit.

Breathless, moaning, and panting you came all over his fingers screaming out his name. He held you down and pushed in his cock to feel you pussy clench around him as you slowly came down from your high.

You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and satisfaction as Eunseok stroked his length.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he sighed as he kissed your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home before sunrise. Just get some rest for now,” he said as he saw your legs trembling from the orgasm.

This definitely wasn’t the night you were expecting, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy it.

You watched as Eunseok pulled his jeans up before stepping out on the balcony to smoke. Your eyes fluttered gently as you watched the puffs of smoke escape his lips. He ruffled his hair again before coming inside to join you in bed.

He guided your head to rest on his chest. The gentle hums relaxed you till you eventually fell asleep.

You don’t know what time you got in the car or what time he drove you home, but he made sure to bring you back before the sun came out.

Even though this had just happened the day before, you already couldn’t wait for your next opportunity to sneak out.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @nikisvanillaccola @mrswolfhard3 @hynjinnn1 @melobin @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @swaggyjinnie @j4yluv @mimikittysblog @wonbinisbabygurl

[samflir]

Similarities between Toki Pona and Lojban

Toki Pona and Lojban are two engineered constructed languages with speaking communities and very different goals. Toki Pona is a minimalist language based on simplifying your thoughts to fit the vocabulary of 140 words. Its grammar is similarly minimalistic. It has a simple sentence structure, not many particles and no affixes at all. Lojban is a logical language, one designed to express logical statements in its grammar and lack structural ambiguity. It is not at all minimalist, having over 3.5 times more particles than Toki Pona has words in total. It has particles for just about any grammatical function or marking you can think of.

So you may be surprised to learn that, having learned both languages, I consider them to be strikingly similar. They both have traits in common that English lacks for what I think are similar reasons.

Overall character

These are the big picture similarities. They are the cause of the specific similarities discussed later.

One class of root words

Both languages throw root words into one class, with usage determining their interpretation as a noun, verb or modifier. Both achieve this slightly differently.

Toki Pona's contentives

Most Toki Pona words cover broad semantic categories and have interpretations as nouns, verbs and modifiers relating to these categories in some way. For example, the definition of "moku" is:

eat, drink, consume, swallow, ingest; food, edible thing

These all relate to food and eating in some way. A very frequently cited example of Toki Pona's ambiguity is "mi moku" meaning "I eat" or "I am food", as Toki Pona doesn't have a copula. Note that it's not possible to predict how the meaning of a word changes between noun and verb usage and this must be memorised with each word.

Lojban's verbs

Lojban's only class of root word is verbs. These are defined in an unusual way, resembling sentences with blank spots given numbered Xs for nouns. For example, klama means:

x1 goes to x2 from x3 by route x4 with means/vehicle x5

"klama" is about as complex as verbs get, having 5 blank spots (arguments). Most have fewer than this! The blank spots are how Lojban creates nouns. The articles (lo/le) in Lojban select the first place of a verb and turn it into a noun. This avoids the need to memorise unpredictable changes in meaning for different words. For example, "lo citka" can only ever mean "an eater", it cannot mean "a food", which would be "lo cidja".

Concepts that are nouns in English are verbs in Lojban that include their copula. For example "cidja" means:

x1 is food for x2

This is as much as a verb to Lojban's grammar as the entire rest of its root word dictionary. The exact same grammar that works with "klama" works with "cidja". In other words, Lojban makes no distinction between being and doing. This also means that while Lojban does have a copula, it is barely ever used. Verbs contain "to be" in their definition.

Greedy phrases

In English you mostly know where a noun phrase ends because a lexically defined noun appears at the end of a string of lexically defined adjectives. Context and word order alone are usually sufficient to know how an English sentence is structured. Toki Pona and Lojban both take a different approach, because zero-deriving modifiers from contentives and verbs means that phrases are "greedy", they keep expanding unless explicitly separated.

Toki Pona phrases

Modifier phrases are the main way that Toki Pona stays expressive with only 140 words. Toki Pona has noun-modifier order. "jan pona" literally means "person good" but actually translates as "good person", since English is an adjective-noun language. You can keep adding root words onto phrases indefinitely and every following word modifies the whole phrase to its left:

small red car tomo tawa lili loje ((room move) small) red

Lojban tanru

Lojban's "tanru" are phrases just like Toki Pona's, where one word modifies another through juxtaposition. Lojban's order is backwards from Toki Pona, with the verb determining the place structure (and therefore most of the meaning) occurring last rather than first. However, Lojban still groups modifiers to the left. Just like in Toki Pona, root words can be added onto the end indefinitely since all are in the same category and they cannot, on their own, indicate the end of a noun phrase or start of a predicate.

intensely-red type of car kandi xunre karce ((intense) red) car

Keeping open question words in place

English fronts question words. This means that when asking a question, the syntax of the sentence is shuffled in some way that brings the wh-word to the start of the sentence. "You want what?" becomes "What do you want?". This is not the case in Toki Pona or Lojban, which prefer to keep question words unmoved.

Toki Pona's seme

The question word in Toki Pona is "seme" and it can go in the noun or verb positions of a sentence.

This is/does what? ni li seme?

This is good for who/what? ni li pona tawa seme?

Lojban's ma and mo

Lojban has different question words for every possible type of question. It has many more than just "ma" and "mo" which are noun and verb questions respectively. But those are the question words that most directly correspond with "seme" and just like it, don't require any change in word order.

This is/does what? .i ti mo

This is good for who/what? .i ti xamgu ma

Word order

Both Toki Pona and Lojban are similar to each other but also English in word order. Toki Pona has subject-verb-object word order and also tends to move preposition phrases to the end of sentences. While Lojban's word order is flexible, it defaults to a very Englishy order of putting the verb second, after a single noun and then putting all other nouns after the verb.

I give a book to you at the library.

mi pana e lipu, tawa sina, lon tomo lipu. I give a book, to you, at building book.

.i mi dunda lo cukta do bu'u le ckusro I give a book you at the library.

Specific similarities

As a result of the similarities in overall character, Lojban and Toki Pona have some very similar grammar.

Predicate markers

English doesn't have a predicate marker because it doesn't need one, not usually anyway. A predicate marker tells you where the verb in a sentence starts. This seemed like such an obviously artificial feature to me (having only seen it in Toki Pona and Lojban) that I assumed it was something that only existed in conlangs for a good while. I've since learned that Tok Pisin has a predicate marker. Natural languages are always stranger than I expect!

Toki Pona's li

The word "li" in Toki Pona separates third-person subjects from their predicates. It is essential to Toki Pona's grammar to allow for speakers to stop adding description to the subject and start the verb.

A big cat wants a fish. soweli suli li wile e kala.

Toki Pona allows for a subject to have multiple predicates attached to it by repeating "li".

A hunter sells food and goes to a house. jan alasa li esun e moku li kama, tawa tomo.

Lojban's cu

The word "cu" in Lojban terminates any nouns before the predicate of a sentence or clause. This is very similar to "li" and when Toki Pona speakers learn Lojban, it's very useful to be able to say "remember 'li'? it works like that".

A fish eats a person. .i lo finpe cu citka lo prenu

However, it is never actually obligatory in Lojban. It is usually used when the noun before the verb is one that uses an article, as opposed to a single-word pronoun. This is because pronouns self-terminate and don't start a greedy tanru phrase.

I run. .i mi bajra

Lojban only permits one "cu" per clause. This is a very helpful rule for certain deeply-nested sentence structures. Attaching multiple predicates to a single subject is still possible, but requires conjunctions.

A hunter sells a food and goes to a house. .i lo kalte cu vecnu lo cidja gi'e klama lo zdani

Phrase bracket particles

The default way that both languages group together modifiers in phrases means that it's impossible for multi-word phrases on the right to modify single words to the left. A phrase with the structure "A B C D" will always group together as "((A B) C) D" when what you want may be "(A B) (C D)". Both languages have words for this exact purpose of regrouping modifiers, a type of particle that has no direct counterpart in English.

Toki Pona's pi

Toki Pona's particle "pi" is used to override Toki Pona's default left grouping. An example is "tomo telo nasa", which translates to "crazy restroom" because "tomo telo" groups together and is finally modified by "nasa".

crazy restroom (tomo telo) nasa (room water) crazy

Putting a "pi" after "tomo" allows for "telo nasa" (alcohol) to modify "tomo", creating the meaning of "bar". These two very different meanings are only distinguished by the grouping of modifiers.

bar tomo pi (telo nasa) room (water crazy)

Using multiple "pi" in one phrase is ambiguous and considered bad style. It is unclear whether both pi phrases apply equally to the head of the phrase (flat pi) or the second pi phrase applies only to the contents of the pi phrase it follows (nested pi). The example given in sona pona is "lipu pi sona mute pi toki Inli". Is it a book of much knowledge of English, or a book of much knowledge and English?

Lojban's ke-ke'e

Lojban's particle "ke" does pretty much the exact same thing as "pi", but appears in opposite situations from "pi" due to the opposite word order of tanru compared to Toki Pona phrases.

catcher of big dogs barda gerku kavbu (big dog) catcher

The meaning of the phrase without pi in Toki Pona has to use "ke" to get the brackets on the right of the phrase.

a catcher of dogs, who is big barda ke gerku kavbu big (dog catcher)

Unlike Toki Pona, mulitple "ke" particles unambiguously nest into each other. Conjunctions are needed to achieve the "flat pi" meaning from Toki Pona.

small school for girls which is beautiful melbi ke cmalu ke nixli ckule pretty (small (girl school))

Unlike Toki Pona, a terminating particle "ke'e" closes the opening bracket created by "ke". Sometimes, the entire "ke-ke'e" structure may be replaced with "bo" as this marks a gap between two verbs to be interpreted as grouping together first before the usual left-grouping rule is applied.

small catcher of big dogs cmalu ke barda gerku ke'e kavbu cmalu barda bo gerku kavbu small (big dog) catcher

Analysis

Toki Pona is vague, not ambiguous

With a few small exceptions such as preverbs, prepositions and nested pi, the structure of a Toki Pona sentence is usually not ambiguous because of very un-englishy particles tagging parts of sentences such as "li" and "e". Most of Toki Pona's multiple interpretations come from its words covering board "semantic spaces", fuzzy clouds of meaning that are clarified through the addition of modifiers and context.

Toki Pona and Lojban both solve ambiguity in similar ways

Both being SVO isolating languages with greedy phrases, both languages use similar very obvious solutions for terminating phrases. Lojban has terminators, articles, prepositions and the predicate marker "cu". Toki Pona has "en", "li", "e" and prepositions marking the starts of phrases in sentences. The biggest overlap is predicate marking, but both languages also have particles exclusively for regrouping modifiers.

[astrobydalia]

Saturn🪐

by astrobydalia

There’s a lot of emphasis on the ‘delay’ aspect of Saturn. It is true that the house where you have this planet are themes that might be delayed in your life until your Saturn return (your 30s) or until you’re mature enough (age and maturity don’t always go hand in hand). Up until then, you could struggle to find stability in these house’ themes to the point where you might think you’re not cut out to have them like everyone else since nothing here seems to come easily or naturally.

Example:

Saturn in 4th - could face early abandonment from family (emotional and/or physical). May spend a big chunk of their lives feeling like they have no support or quite literally no family. Constantly feeling rejected by the people and places they try to call home and lack a sense of belonging. Eventually they learn what it really means to become a support system for themselves and the people they love, this might have come at the expense of their own comfort, but learned to build this stability within themselves once they mature

However, that is the most forgiving manifestation of Saturn in my opinion because it can actually do the exact opposite. Saturn placement can also show themes that are imposed on you very early on and you have to stick with for a veeeeery long time until you’re ready to mature out of it or until you know better. In other words, a karmic lesson. This is because Saturn also represents burdens

Same example:

Saturn 4th - could actually have a strong bond with their family and have a stable place to call home, but they could be inseparable from family/roots in a way that is detrimental for the native. Could feel the pressure to stick up for family and what they want at the expense of their own needs which results in another form of emotional abandonment. Family is limiting, could feel like you can’t escape from them or their influence. Ultimately the lesson is the same cause it’s the same placement, but instead of learning it through trial and error like the last case, they learn it from being hands on in a less than ideal situation

There’s also a combination of both: having to deal with a certain burden because you it’s like you lack the possibility of anything better in the long run. Following the example: could be the case that your whole family is gone and you only have one relative to relay on but they’re abusive

Saturn isn’t here to make sure your life is crap, it can actually bring blessing if you’re patient and resilient. After all it rules karma, so it eventually delivers what’s fair. That’s why Saturn’s exalted in Libra and also because the concepts of boundaries, respecting the common rules and detaching for the sake of compromise are things both Saturn and Libra understand perfectly. “time ends up placing everything where it should be”

It’s true that Saturn is tricky because it’s all about prioritizing growth over comfort. It’s about the sacrifices that make you tougher, stronger, bigger. So at its worst it actually be very bad. The shadow of Saturn is all about doing whatever it takes for growth and benefit. In the case of Capricorn that relates to climbing the social and economic ladder. For Aquarius, that’s detaching from your humanity in order to be more ‘evolved’. It has a lot to do with detaching from your heart and soul in benefit of the 3D world, that’s why Saturn is debilitated Aries, Cancer and Leo, because these signs are all about checking in with yourself and staying true to yourself and your heart so don’t like accepting Saturn’s limitations in terms of these things. I’d argue that it can even be worse than the other ‘malefic’ planet because it’s associated to all of the things that can be devastating for any human in a permanent basis: loneliness, depression, coldness, abuse of power (saturn=limits, control, authority)

On the flip side, Saturn at its best represents everything a healthy person needs: stability, structure, boundaries, the barriers that keep you protected and responsibility. The growth over comfort motto is actually positive when channeled healthily. As we all know, in order to mature and be a better person, we have to take responsibility and compromise some of our comfort zone, we need to learn to ‘tame’ and take control of ourselves and that’s not always a walk in the park but it’s worth it at the end. This is what helps you build a solid ‘you’ and that’s what Saturn can teach you. Saturn also represents the matrix, the rules and limits of this big game so at its best, it can be the most helpful planet when it comes to teaching you how to navigate this world and to grow from your lessons. It other words it can help you manifest!!!! Saturn gives you clues on what you can do to materialize what you want, how you can translate things into reality

Saturn is actually very rewarding and liberating in the long run if you embrace the process of growth and take responsibility for yourself in the themes it is influencing in your chart. It gets to point in your life were Saturn’s like “yeah it is what it is. It sucks. Too bad. But the ball’s in your court now, what are you gonna do?”

Anyways this was a little spontaneous ramble of my thoughts. As always, don’t hesitate to share yours :)

by astrobydalia

[insert-random-account-name]

Analyze the Princess- The Stranger

Part two of analyzing the Princess. Stranger time!

The shortest Chapter 2 in the entire game, the Stranger somehow manages to perfectly encapsulate the core themes of the game in a chaotic weave of timelines colliding. It encapsulates how your perception alters reality, how small choices have huge impacts, while what seem to be huge choices don’t seem to matter at all. How, when you get to the end, it might not even matter what path you take, since you’ll still be facing the same outcome. The Stranger is similar to the Razor, seeing as both lie outside of the typical chapter structuring every other Princess falls into, in which every Chapter 2 branches into two Chapter 3’s, one unique to that chapter, and another shared with a different Chapter 2. The Stranger is designed so that, no matter what happens, you end up with the same result, ending Chapter 2 with the exact same vessel. The Stranger is reached by refusing to enter the cabin in Chapter 1, instead turning around and leaving. Since you never saw the cabin or princess, this results in a Princess who doesn’t know what to be. They are simultaneously everything and nothing. Their final form is built from a mess of limbs and faces, showing everything that could possibly be in one mutilated form.

The Stranger is a mess. How can a creature of perception exist without being perceived? You have no idea what to expect when you enter their cabin, meaning that they are forced to contain every possible version of themself, to a disastrous degree. Every attempt to communicate with them leads to a new form fracturing off the whole, mirroring the way the voices fragment with every new chapter, giving you a frightening visual of what is happening in your own head; single thoughts breaking off from the whole, each with their own beliefs and motivations. There is a gentle Princess, a bloodthirsty Princess, a harsh princess, a blank princess, and a pessimistic Princess. They all have their own personalities, but in the end, they all combine to make the Stranger. If you get her in the final cabin, you can see those different personalities shine through in her words, her voice, and her design.

The Stranger is about choice, or the lack of one. The chapter shows how, when anything is possible, nothing is. You tried to avoid choices, and now you’re being confronted by every one that could possibly exist. However, despite these infinite options, there is only one result; the Stranger combining into a multitude of princesses. All the discussion on how to hold the knife, which stairs to pick, and what to say never end up mattering. This mirrors the game as a whole. No matter what vessels you find, you end up with the same options once you reach the end of everything (excluding the Pristine Cut ending). The five fractures of the Stranger mirror the five vessels you bring to the Shifting Mound. Every choice you make in the Stranger’s basement reflects the choices for each vessel, and once you make a choice, that version is cemented and doesn’t change.

The Stranger also represents a lack of caring for the consequences of your actions. Leaving someone you never met (who might end the world) locked in a cabin with no care for stakes and consequences comes back to bite you. You return to find a world shattered by your absence, turned into an incomprehensible mess just because you wanted to troll. It gives you a harsh reminder about the effects of ignoring your own responsibility. The Stranger route is beautifully rich and vibrant, just like their heart.

Other parts:

The Razor The Stranger The Damsel The Prisoner The Tower The Witch The Spectre

(If you like my yapping, check out my other analyses. There's one for the voices here and my one for the narrator here)

[dapperd3m0n]

Hypnosis as a symphony.

I saw some discourse on here recently (link here) about a good litmus test for a skilled hypnotist is whether they've had discipline in another art form. That really stuck with me, and I began wondering about my art form of choice, music, and how studying and pursuing music and composition creates my particular flavor of hypnosis -- and I found something interesting.

(Forgive me, it gets a bit rambly from here.)

I found that, to me, effective hypnosis has a lot of the same qualities as effective music. I'm a bit more biased toward a classical approach, as in, symphonies and sonatas as opposed to pop music, but the same principles apply.

At a bird's eye view level, good music is well structured. Whether you're writing something in sonata form or a song for your first album, there are certain conventions that are expected and, for the most part, adhered to. Sonata form is strict and rigid, with rules on rules (and heaven help you if you break them). But even with pop music, we have a generally expected format: intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, outro. It's nearly like clockwork.

Coherent hypnosis, too, also has a similar sense of structure, though not quite as rigid as sonata form, and even not as rigid as pop music. But the way that the hypnotist establishes rapport, sets the tone, cadence, and rhythm (all of these music words coming up so naturally, I love it), drops the listener like EDM, and brings them back up again, whether on the listener's own time or in a guided manner, reads to me the same way.

Of course, these expectations can always be subverted. Maybe we start with a chorus. Maybe we change keys, change tempo, change styles halfway through the piece. Maybe we pull a Beyonce and have several key changes. Done effectively, this isn't a jarring effect (at least, not in a negative way), but can greatly enhance the piece or hypnosis session.

Getting into the weeds a bit, great music to me makes use of motifs, or uniting ideas throughout a piece. It can be a hook, a lyric that comes back, or even the four notes that open Beethoven's Fifth (the universally recognizable dun dun dun duuuuun). I love listening to symphonies or large scale works, and finding hidden instances where these ideas come back. It's such a treat, and even when I know it's there, the piece doesn't lose any effect -- in fact, I have a deeper appreciation for it.

In the same way, we see this similar "motivic" idea with great hypnosis. The repetition of a word or phrase -- even, to an extent, the idea of triggers as motivic material -- makes the listener feel like they know the tune, can hum along, can dro-- ahem, be lulled into that sense of familiarity. Those who can do this on the fly and make it sound natural have the same virtuosity to me as jazz greats, who use the exact same principles of structure and repeated, recognizable ideas in their solos. And that's the key, isn't it? Repetition legitimizes, and it should be recognizable enough that one could get that lightbulb moment (or, you know, that dizzy, glassy look in their eyes) even when it's not in the exact context presented originally (think a trigger out of trance, for example).

Finally, a piece of music to me is truly exceptional when you can tell every note is crafted with intention. Some of these instances the audience may never know. For example, why did they choose a particular key? A particular time signature? Why this specific set of notes for the recurring idea? Was it someone's name? A word? And how does the changing of that idea reflect the story arc of the piece?

I'm reminded of Hector Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique, and the Idee Fixe (fixed idea) that occurs throughout the work. The occurrence, reoccurrence, and manipulation of the Idee Fixe isn't immediately recognizable. I didn't get it my first few listens. But after reading it (being forced to read about it) in school, I developed a newfound appreciation for the piece and the story that it follows, even if Berlioz was a total nut.

Exceptional hypnotists, those who seem to command the craft like it's breathing, do exactly this. Some of these things, again, the listener may never know -- how the hypnotist is analyzing changes in breathing, or using imagery that they know will resonate with the listener, or even using details about the listener that they don't consciously realize, but the hypnotists includes it in their composition anyway because they know the resulting effect is one they will want to listen to again, and again, and again. Of course they will. Of course they will.

If this all comes across as gobbledegook, oops. I've been tossing this idea around for a while, and it could be that it sounds better in my head. I would, however, be curious to hear how these ideas translate to painting, sculpture, or hell, even computer science. I'd love to hear what gets you excited about your craft and hypnosis, and how they come together to form something truly unique. That's what makes this world so special, after all.

[shirleycarlton]

Familiar

For the MayPrompts2024 by the wonderful @calaisreno

Familiar

Sherlock couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He knew that this cake, the taste and structure of it, stirred an ancient memory deep inside of his brain. It just didn’t stir it hard enough to become clear in his mind. There were only vague associations: a feeling of relaxed happiness, sunny weather, belonging.

“What are you suddenly smiling about?” John asked, smiling contentedly himself from the opposite side of the rickety café table as the sun beautifully lit up one lock of his hair.

After briefly looking up from his cake to the love of his life (who had no idea of his feelings - a minor detail), Sherlock looked away over the outside seating area of the establishment whose owner they had just helped solve a mysterious series of thefts (or not so mysterious, once Sherlock had solved it). Then he stared back at his cake. “I don’t know.”

And as soon as the words had left his mouth, he suddenly remembered. His grandmother’s garden, in the south of France, with the exact same cake on little plates in front of them on the white garden table. Her soft voice. “Always remember that I love you, Sherlock.”

“I love you.” He blinked.

John choked on his drink.

Sherlock hadn’t meant to say it. Not at all.

Yet, he regretted nothing.

Because the way John was looking at him right now was better than when he called Sherlock brilliant, amazing, or extraordinary. John was biting his lip as if he was attempting to hold back a radiant burst of happiness. “You’re being serious?” he asked, a tiny trace of wariness creeping along the edge of his broad, expectant grin.

Sherlock didn’t hesitate more than a fraction of a second. John’s warm smile had melted away all the fears that Sherlock had accumulated throughout the months of loving him secretly. “Yes,” he simply said, noticing the little tone of surprise in his own voice.

John seemed to collect himself for a moment, then cleared his throat and tentatively reached his hand across the little table to put it over Sherlock’s. “I must say,” he said, smiling at their joined hands, his voice barely more than a whisper, “this is not how I had imagined this moment would happen, if it ever did. And I have often imagined it. But, well, I guess this is as good a time as any.” He looked Sherlock in the eye, his eyebrows knitted together. “I love you too, Sherlock.”

“You’re being serious?” Sherlock jested mock-incredulously, relief washing over him like the waves of the Mediterranean near his grandmother’s cottage.

“You know what?” John said, pushing his tongue inside his cheek. “Let’s go home, so I can convince you properly.”

“That sounds like a very sound plan,” Sherlock replied, trying to sound serious.

“That’s because I’m brilliant,” John said, pulling Sherlock up, still holding his hand.

“You really are.”

#MayPrompts2024