#write something? TOO BORING

[thehardkandy]

having an absolute inability to find something interesting to do today. like ARGHGH!!! this is the most free weekend i could possibly have. and i am able to get into absolutely nothing

[punnifullife]

Request from @wafflesandd1ck for an evil starfire request. I wouldn't say "evil"-evil, but this was if she was either mind-controlled/under a hallucinogen (like robin was in that episode "Haunted") but she sees everyone as enemies or something. idk. And I couldn't decide on what he was saying at the end, BUT i know my girl could body all them if she didn't hold herself back 👍

[stuckinapril]

I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling

[fictionadventurer]

There's something about reading really great writing that's so relaxing. You can just sit back and let the words wash over you, knowing that you can trust the writer.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[faeskiss]

THE DOWNFALL

“We hereby pronounce Zaros Kymen Atha’llin as the new crowned King of Serulla”

Everyone stood up at once in order to acknowledge and pay their respects to the new eminence

Zaros looked regal in his custom made coronation cape, adorned with pearls, diamonds and rubies, the finest of the fine, the Serullian crown was resting effortlessly on his head, as if he was born to wear it, he looked luminous, godly even

“Look, the Earis is here too, so unexpected, everyone thought they’d never show up”

“What an embarrassment to the Ilves name, truly a disappointment, they should’ve just stayed in their room” snickered the random nobles

You had gotten used to the snide remarks and insults from everyone around you, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less

Your eyes traveled to Zaros again, only this time he met your gaze

He gave you a heartlessly taunting smirk, almost as if he pitied your worn out state, it served as a reminder of how you lost, how you had lost everything that gave you any worth in the first place, his gaze was piercingly icy, it felt demeaning to say the least, salt to the wound, only you knew this wound would never heal no matter what you did

You stood there, embarrassed and mortified, with a broken heart and a shattered soul, you were damaged beyond repair, you knew that this was your downfall, it was a long time coming

You finally had nothing to lose.

[riacte]

was spiralling for a bit again so am forcing myself to remember that it gets better and you get better and all the people i watch are over thirty years old and you will get better at your craft over the years and you will be excited to age and find out what the next year brings. you will be excited to grow old and grow plants and make shitty doodles and learn sculpting woodworking and you will be bad at it but you will get better. you will look back and thank yourself for trying so sincerely. the time will pass anyway. in the future it gets better.

[lord-squiggletits]

The reason this fandom hates IDW Optimus isn't because he's a cop (plenty of people are fine with Prowl) or because he's a bastard (most characters in IDW are) but because he commits the crime of being an actual person who's messy, flawed, and makes a shitload of high stakes mistakes fitting for the intense situations and pressure he's put under constantly.

But we can't have Optimus actually react to his situations by lashing out or being unpleasant, no, he has to have the personality of a cardboard cutout of G1 whose only defining personality traits are "dad, funny, nice," and if he ever vents negative emotions it can only ever be #relatable depression or him being sad on his own without ever letting it show during the important parts of the story. If Optimus dares do things like be angry or frustrated or bitter it's just a sign that he's a bastard and LITERALLY the worst Optimus ever. If Optimus ever makes mistakes or does wrong things in the heat of anger/frustration/stress it's because he's just an evil bastard with no redeeming traits.

God forbid Optimus go through an unending gauntlet of war, politics, atrocities, near-complete loneliness, and a seemingly endless cycle of violence for his entire life and come out of it kind of bitter, angry, and tired of dealing with people's shit. He's not allowed to be a realistic person, context doesn't matter, sympathy doesnt matter. IDW Optimus doesn't fulfill the fandom's fantasies of Father Figure or Perfect Cultural Icon or Twinky Fucktoy and since that's the only reason most people care about Optimus in general, the fandom collectively trashes on IDW OP.

All because he can't fit into the overly simplified and childlike double standard the fandom has where if any other character is messy and flawed, that's good writing and interesting and compelling, but if OPTIMUS is messy and flawed, he's Literally The Worst and he's an asshole for no other reason than He Sucks, context be damned

[ninyard]

went to work on the bee fic and then had a lightbulb for connecting up the second chapter of the jeremy fic and now im sitting here with 13k words of a chapter wondering if i should find a beta reader but can't do it because im scared of criticism and i know this draft is Messy

[leverage-ot3]

sorry to keep personal posting but my day fucking SUCKED and ended with me dropping one of my brand new earrings from a set that I just finished cleaning down the drain, took the sink apart and still couldn’t find it 🙃

if y’all feel like asking a leverage/misc question for thoughts or headcanons I’d love to answer them in the morning! or even if you just want to say something about your day- I just like hearing from you guys 💖

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

i have tried a lot of things but nothing works for me. how do you study for multiple hours a day effectively. my multiple hours of study consist of 20 minutes of actually studying and the rest of it doing something else because i get distracted. i cannot focus. and when i do miraculously succeed in keeping my focus i dont even memorize the majority of it. im at my wit's end

[bluepallilworld]

Palida's Day

The sky is blue, blue like the moon. It is salty too and she's unsure if the wind is soft or harsh. Her hands squeeze hard on fur as the surroundings shifted at an incredible speed. A laugh bubbles its way out of her non-existent throat and orange fireflies start to dance around. Her giggles are loud and clear and nature bursts into life with each vibration, growing with bright blasts of colors that end up covering the sky. Her loyal rabbit stops and she flies out of the saddle. A cloud catches her. A dizzying light envelops her, flashing rapidly from a dull red to vivid blue-green, each flicker sending subtle jolts along her spine.

Palida awoke with a bustling energy coursing through her every limbs. It was exhilarating.

She jumped down her bed like a spring and took a moment to twirl and jump with happy little shouts. It always helped to get some of the extra energy from the sleep out right after waking to avoid getting into situations like running into a wall trying to do anything. She giggled and flapped her hands, kicked her feet and just had fun being as loud as she could do without making someone scramble to her room in confused panic. Once her morning routine successfully finished, she could already feel her internal fire chill down a bit. Just what was needed to not get into troubles but not enough to feel sleepy too early in the day. She should be able to go all the way through to her afternoon nap without faltering this time! And her parents will tell her how proud they are of her and maybe she'll have two desserts instead of one! With that very thought sitting right in front of her mind, the young girl runned down the hallway. Direction the kitchen. She sangsung while trailing her hand along the wall, jumping above imaginary lines and dodging invisible dangers.

"Kitchen, kitchen, let's go to the kit-kit-kit-kitchen!"

The monster pushed the door open and stormed into the room, eager to start the day. She hopped on a chair and finally looked around to see who was up.

On the chair right across the table was sitting an owl, busy meticulously peeling off the skin of some tomatoes before eating them. That was the last visitor, Charley. Or was it Jone? Asturd? She just couldn't remember it right now and she couldn't care less. They were a very boring guy... They didn't even glance at Palida as she made her chair wobble in thoughts. Nobody else was in the kitchen yet. With a determined stare at the big clock over the oven, she determined it might be a bit too early for her dads.

Meaning!

She could eat whatever she wanted for breakfast!

Not wasting a minute, Palida jumped down on the floor tiles.

The action made the room swim for an instant before she readjusted herself. Aw, the sleeping rush was already ending... No more running around until she got something tasty in her belly she guessed.

Well, she just had to rummage through the closets for a second and she would bounce back for at least another half hour!The chair's feet made some unholy screech as she dragged it to the cupboard, making the visitor groan. There! Palida cautiously climbed back on it and stood on her tippy toes to reach her potential breakfast. Surprisingly, she did not fall during the adventure and the girl felt very smug about it. She really was getting better at this! Once the monster got her hands on her favorite cereals, some really sugary things shaped like carrots, she scurried right back to the table and wasted no time plunging her hand into the box with all the attention to scarf down the food the fastest possible.

"Pali, what did we say about eating right out of the box?"

The girl gulped down what was in her mouth before turning towards the new adult in the room, who was currently leaning on the door frame. Wearing a louse black shirt and a lopsided crown.

"To... not do it?"

Palida answered her papa hesitantly, scrunching her memory trying to remember the exact phrasing of the advice she heard almost every morning.

Dream sighed and yawned once before approaching the cereal mess on the table. He softly brushed his hand against his daughter's cheek, making her look at him.

"Yes and to clean after if you inevitably end up doing it again."

"I was going to!", the girl lied easily, not even trying to look shameful about the endeavor.

"Sure, you were."

Dream crossed his arms, his only functioning eye light staring at his child, a slight grin making the expression softer. Palida watched her papa slowly retreat in the corridor and swiftly come back with a hand hidden behind his back, her head tilting in confusion. What was he holding onto now?

"Now guess who got out all clean and fresh from the laundry washer?"

Red and beige fabric, floppy ears above a limp cloth like body.

"Bunby!"

"Oh, is that its name today?"

Palida ignored the question and jumped on her beloved rabbit plush she reluctantly let go of yesterday after a jam accident. She squeezed it in her arms, letting the smell of clean fabric rubbed against her nasal bone. She stayed that way as her papa swiftly picked her up and busied himself cleaning her food mess, content to just cuddle up there silently.

After the table (and floor) was clean again and some conversation went over her head between her papa and the guest, she stretched up to pat her hand against the adult cheek.

"Yes my light?", he answered after some frustrating long seconds, glancing at her.

"Is Popy still on bed?"

"In bed, lil' star. And yes, I do believe so. Should we...?"

The girl giggled and nodded vigorously. They should!

They made their way quietly towards the biggest bedroom of the house, barely glancing back when a soft sound and a squick told them their current guest had finally left this plane.

The door creaked despite their best attempt at staying discreet.

Warm room. King sized bed. A shape hiding under a fuzzy blanket, curled around a pillow.

Palida stared at her papa. He stared back for a minute before grinning.

And just like that, she was launched like a canon-ball on her still asleep father. Action that allowed a loud screech of surprise out of the victim and a loud fit of laugh out of the victorious warrior.

Cross, now fully awake, looked at the bundle of energy sitting on his chest with a quirked brow.

"Pal, pumpkin, are you obligated to wake me up like that, everyday?"

She knew that despite his words, her popy was not mad. Mostly because he was half grinning (and that was not a mad grin! She was really good at noticing those!) and his hand was softly brushing the top of her skull. So she just giggled and went for what would be the funniest.

She pointed at her other parent, leaning on the far wall and took her most innocent voice.

"Papa idea!"

"Oh so that's what it is? Dream was the real culprit this whole time?"

The "culprit" barely had a second to widen his eyes and even less to attempt a desperate dash towards the exit before a cushion violently hit his chest and made him awkwardly stumble backward.

Palida shrieked in delight watching the pillow fight start between the two. Laughters filled the room as various soft weapons flew in the air. She bounced on a corner of the king sized bed, clapping her small hands.

That was so fun!

The world exploded into tiny little shards of light and darkness. Pain erupted from her face and soon her back collided with the floor. She had tumbled down the bed after an accidental pillow hit her square. For a second the air felt still, no one in the room dared moving.

Then a wail resounded, loud and clear, escaping from the girl's mouth as her whole body shook. It was all it took to make the adults scramble to her side, whispering sweet comfort and apologies and promising treats.

Her nasal bone hurted and her back was on fire! What were they talking about stuff being "fine"? She was literally dying! She tried to muse her thoughts aloud but she could only get out pitiful and retched sobs making her body feel all fuzzy and twitchy.

Strong arms picked her up, rocking her gently and hummed words made their way through her mind. A song she knew well wormed its way through the pain.

"Hey there firefly, what's going in your mind? Hey there firefly, why is your light snuffed out?

The night is dark and my fingers are frozen...

Will you warm me up, dear firefly?

Will you light my path, dear firefly?

Will you hug my heart, dear firefly?

Hey there firefly, what's going in your mind? Hey there firefly, why is your light snuffed out?

If you're tired, I'll bring you to bed, dear firefly!

If you're sick, I'll take care of you, dear firefly!

If you're sad, I'll hold you close, dear firefly!

So please stick around firefly...

Lay your head in my arms...

And... take a nap with me..."

Words started blurring at the end, exhaustion spreading through the small monster limbs and soon everything gently turned to black.

"She fell asleep."

Cross examined his daughter's face, lingering on a small scratch on her nasal bone. His partner leaned against him, sighing. He delicately put their child in his husband's arms to let him fuss for a minute. Once they were sure no real damage was done, they decided to tuck her into their bed to let her nap in peace. The red light pulsating under her bones indicated she was in "low battery" mode. Cross grinned as he knew how much Dream loathed when he used that to describe her state.

A cat, a cat is lapping from the water in her hands. It pours out of her hands. Onto her lap. Onto the floor. It makes a pool. Shimmering like jewels. It is dark. Black. Dark. Wet. She doesn't like it. Her movements are snailish. Light. Sudden. Disappear. Appears. Dissed a pear. Black again. Again. Again. Again.

Palida woke up for the second time of the day. But this time she wasn't as energized as she should after a good sleep. The child groaned and turned around, wiggling like a crazy little worm. She finally peeled open her eyes, only to marvel that she was laying in her parents' bed! The big bouncy bed! She didn't jump on it however, simply tapping her hand on it appreciating the texture of the mattress.

Glancing around, she narrowed her eyes at a pillow lying on the ground. Meanie.

Palida rolled until she sat on the side of the bed, tugging a light sheet on her shoulders as she carefully set her foot on the ground.

Now.

What to do?

Where was everybody, she mused.

Humming and huffing, she strolled towards the corridor in quest of some living beings that left her all alone. Then she noticed a smell. A food smell! And run right to the kitchen. Before stopping and running right back into the bedroom, grabbing her plush then she trotted back through the corridor.

The sheet fell at one point and would lay on the ground for a while.

"POPY! PAPA! WHAT'S COOKING?"

She burst into the room, her arms already up to be grabbed.

And grabbed she was, picked up and put in her chair in front of a plate of food.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty, are you feeling better? We're sorry for the flying cushion."

Cross was promptly ignored as the child marveled at what was seating on her plate. A steak shaped like a kitten and yellow beans.

"KITTY MEAT!"

Maybe the others continued to talk but she couldn't care less with how busy she quickly became trying to cut her steak. One ear. Then the other. The head. The paws. The tail was the funniest part! Worm. And whatever the rest was. She attempted to eat the beans, one by one, but they kept fleeing so she just grabbed them with her bare hands when she thought nobody was watching.

Palida was smart like that.

She jumped out of her seat before getting any dessert. Something was ringing and she had to figure out what was ringing exactly.

Nobody shouted after her to come back so she figured it must be fine.

Now the ringing.

Back to the corridor.

She already heard that ringing before.

Palida checked the bathroom.

No ringy here.

She checked the big mystery closet (because it was so big inside) of the living room.

Not there.

What did that ringing mean anyway?

It was not the oven ring.

It was not the fridge nor the washing machine.

What was it again?

Palida turned to her plush and stared into his fabricated eyes, to see if the answer was hidden there.

It was not.

She readjusted its hat and continued hunting for the treasure noise.

It was important.

It meant something important.

The child ended up in her room, glancing around, smiling at her various toys laying around.

It must have been here, she looked everywhere else.

At the end, her eyes stopped on the high shelf who held stuff she didn't have the right to play all the time with but were still very much hers.

She could see a bit of red from a device from her position (standing up on her bed).

...

THE FRIEND PHONE!

Knowing there was no way to get to it without help (believe her, she tried before), the small skeleton rushed back to the kitchen where her parents were cleaning the dishes and doing other boring adult things.

She all but bolted, launching herself to her papa's back, giggling and screeching.

They asked her what was up and she gleefully explained with all the strength she could muster at the moment.

"THEPHONEFRIENDISRINGINGPLEASEHELPMEICANTREACHIWANTTOIWANTTOWHATIFTHEYHANGUPQUICKQUICK-"

Seeing her magnificent try to explain fast was only provoking (very funny) faces of confusion on the two, she changed her plan and grabbed their hands to drag them where they needed to be. Right now.

Once that task achieved (all by herself, they did not follow, she had to drag them!), Palida pointed to the shelf and exclaimed with all the will of a master ordering its pet around:

"Bring me the phone."

They stared at her for a minute then at each other as if debating about something (nothing more important than bringing down the phone, she was sure of it).

Finally, her papa chuckled softly and reached for her treasure.

It was still ringing.

She answered the instant the object reached her eager hands.

"HELLO HELLO DO YOU HEAR ME?"

A chorus of voices answered, all mixing so horribly it was impossible to understand a thing.

The girl did not let go of the red engine however.

One last shout rang before a voice louder than the overs quieted the rest.

"Come on, kids, we talked about it... One at a time."

"LINTY!"

Palida had no struggle recognizing her older friend's voice and yelled her name excitedly.

"Hey, lil' star, it's been a while. I hope you're doing well! And your parents too."

Her parents exchanged a few greetings with their former guest and now the long distance friend of her daughter before said girl could continue the conversation.

"I'm dooing good! Popy sent me a cushion straight in the face and I didn't even cry!"

Her dad looked amused at the lie but didn't comment.

"Oh that's my warrior! I'm sure-"

A mix of voices stopped her a second.

"Palida, girl, you can tell me all your adventures later but the kids and I, we have something we need to tell you before. Can you turn on the video feed for me? It's the bottom button, the yellow one."

Her papa reached over her shoulder to point at the button and the child pushed it. A fuzzy image slowly appeared on the device and, squinting, Palida could make out the figures of maybe all of the children of Lint's orphanage, the adult holding the friend phone high.

The video shook a bit but got clear fast.

She didn't know all the kids' faces but she recognized some in the front row.

Abigail and Giren. Ebony. Lili in the chair on the right side. The selkie monster she liked but always forgot the name. Tuna maybe? Solky the fire chicken that claimed he was a phoenix. Even Dalty grumpy is there, frowning slightly less than usual.

Most of them seemed very excited about something.

Were they wearing party hats?

"Are you ready kids? At the count of three like we practiced!"

What?

"1"

Palida looked, confused, as the youngest wiggled around impatiently.

"2, Tody, I see you, get that flamethrower away."

What was happening?

"3!"

And at that moment, many sparkles appeared around the group. Magic was thrown, strings of water, fire and various magic bullets made the image crinkled and blurred.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PALIDA!"

The whole thing is joyful, chaotic and she swore the boy Lint called "Tody" did not put that flamethrower away.

But Palida stayed stuck as the shouted words wormed their way into her mind.

The girl turned around to face her parents and spluttered the beginning of the question, searching for the answer in their eyes.

"Is it really...?"

And they both smiled at her.

"Yes, it is your birthday, firefly."

That day promised to be great!

***************************************************

Dream belongs to jokublog, Shattered!Dream by galacii-gallery and post!dc!Dream is based on @zu-is-here's story Cross belongs to jakei95

My girl birthday was on the 19th but I forgor 💀

[pynkhues]

Am I the only person alive who would find it (darkly) hilarious if Armand did erase the rest of the 70s interview memory at Louis’ request? I think we can all agree Armand has taken a lot of liberties with the truth and he’s a pretty seasoned manipulator but I’m just so amused with the idea that that was one of the only times he was telling the truth (mostly because of how hard Daniel was rolling his eyes over it and because of how insane it sounds.) it’s got that same energy as that one co-worker who’s always causing trouble who you finally call out, only to find this was the one time they weren’t responsible.

On a similar note, because of how Louis is portrayed (ie with a spotty or unreliable memory at times) and how Armand is portrayed (lying, sometimes directly and sometimes by omission) how do you think about the bits of story we get from the two of them re authenticity? I see lots of takes that just…sweep anything complex or unsavory under the proverbial ‘blame Armand’ rug or the ‘Louis’ brain is Swiss-cheese’ blanket as opposed to examining each action and element of the story through the lens of where each character is coming from in that moment. (For example, I’ve seen plenty of folks question if Louis’ memories of lestat can be trusted at all or if it’s all just Armand’s tinkering to make him look bad and just…it’s a tv show. From a practical standpoint they literally cannot rip up everything they’ve shown you. Rehashing memories can only be done some of the time or the audience gets frustrated. And from a story perspective, can’t we take Louis at his word at least some of the time until shown otherwise?)

(Side note and ironic given my ask but I wish we had half as much discourse about Louis as a capitalist and his understanding of the commodification of experiential human things such as art as we do about whether all his memories are unreliable re his romantic relationships. Thank you so much for including the gallery scene in your fic.)

Hahah, I don't think you'd be alone in finding it darkly hilarious if Louis had asked Armand to take the memory away. Hell, the ambiguity of that scene works because it's believable that Louis would ask - Louis really pendulums between heavy handed repression and unrestrained self-indulgence, and it seems like a dam burst for him that night when it came to Lestat. His name had been unuttered in their home for 23 years! And given Armand can read his mind and could clearly sense thoughts of Lestat in Paris, I imagine he's not been deliberately not thought about too. And suddenly a night with Daniel and it's all he can say! All he can think about! The pressure he's placed on the box he keeps Lestat in has loosened just enough to let it all come out!

To know Armand tried to contact Lestat, to feel his own weakness, to know Lestat might know not just his mental state but his crumbling resolve in terms of the promise he made him in Magnus' tower - - it's not hard to see him asking for Armand's help in repressing it all again.

And in terms of their authenticity in the telling of their stories - - I think it varies! I think Armand definitely and deliberately finds the truth malleable, but that doesn't mean I think he lies about everything. Like you said, he tends to prefer to omit than outright lie - like omitting Gabrielle in his recounting of 1800s Paris or the truth about San Francisco, or, I'm sure we'll discover in s3, Lestat being in Paris in the 40s.

I actually don't think he would've tampered with Louis' memories of Lestat at all though - I don't think he would've needed to. Louis is a really punishing character and Lestat's a volatile one, I don't think it would be all that hard for Louis to focus on Lestat's worse behaviour, or to allow his memory to re-write certain events with the most bad faith interpretations of Lestat's actions, thoughts or words as a means to keep him at an emotional distance. Memories aren't facts, even when we want them to be, and I think for Louis they're as malleable when he needs them to be as the truth is for Armand.

The result is that they enable each other's untruths, I think, which goes to the facade of their relationship. Louis can try and mould his memories into something that justifies his choices, and Armand can mould the truth in a way that makes their love story something more than it is, but that doesn't mean that it's entirely lies or entirely inauthentic. It's a version of a story that they've enabled in one another to perform a happiness neither of them feels, but neither knows an alternative to because Louis' grief struck, traumatised and clinically depressed and Armand has been groomed by a monster, has undealt with trauma of his own and an incapacity to be alone.

So yeah, I think a lot of it is true, it's just not a whole truth.

[velaraffricate]

so I've been working on my latest conlang, irkan osla (or just osla for short), for a bit now and would like to showcase its writing system in this post! osla has a syllabic alphabet, not too dissimilar to korean hangul, where letters are stacked according to certain rules to make syllable blocks.

osla's syllable structure is (C)(C)V(V)(C), here's how the stacks work for each type of syllable:

all letters have small, wide, and tall forms depending on their position in the syllable. here are all the letters with their IPA value and romanization:

and here's an example text! i translated parts of the minecraft end poem into osla. maybe i'll make another post just focusing on the grammar when it's more developed. the poem says in english:

What did this player dream? This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind? Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

this post is getting long, so under the cut you'll find a "sans-serif" version as well as the poem in osla and its gloss if you're also a linguistics nerd and wanna know what's going on under the hood (the roman numerals stand for the 3 noun classes)! thanks for reading!

The way regular people would write something quickly on a piece of paper with a regular pen is an aspect of creating neographies that I feel is often overlooked, so I developed this sans-serif version that people would probably be more likely to use when writing their shopping lists or diary entries:

And, finally, here's the poem translation:

pak oṇḍul phan wimbakis?

DET.I.SG.PROX play-AGN what dream-PST.3SG.I?

pak oṇḍul lümaṇiuṣerothi han buloni an wimbakis. kaṣkhaothi han nilothi an. wimbakis, run sëmamkis. wimbakis, run xokthakis, han bumxokthakis. zöga an wimbakis.

DET.I.SG.PROX play-AGN sunlight-II.SG.DAT and tree-II.PL.DAT of dream-PST.3SG.I. Fire-II.SG.DAT and water-II.SG.DAT of. dream-PST.3SG.I, that create-PST.3SG.I. dream-PST.3SG.I, that hunt-PST.3SG.I, and PASS-hunt-PST.3SG.I. shelter of dream-PST.3SG.I.

ṭauraka, run kaak samare? run glutsüna flia?

know-NP.3SG.I, that 3SG.I.ABS love-NP.1PL? that universe kind?

imba ethamo, khaṣiŋli an ka’am hu’aŋni pitë, glutsüna ṣaraka, ti.

some time-NOM.III.PL, noise-ACC.II.SG of 3SG.I.GEN thought-NOM.III.PL through, universe hear-NP.3SG.I, yes.

[byanyan]

can i just be emotional on main for a sec & thank y'all again for sticking with me & supporting my weird little brand here these last few months while i've been like. worse than ever about getting any writing done? just like. hhh. all of u putting up with my shitposts & liking the hcs and whatever else i shove out onto the dash while i'm struggling with energy for replies, and everyone who still wants to plot & develop our dynamics despite me being the WORST at keeping up with dms (& being somehow even worse at being the one to actually initiate dms), and!!!! those of you who continue to indulge me by sending me asks despite the fact that you've been waiting 5 years for me to reply to our thread!!! i appreciate u guys sm, like i don't think u actually understand just how much. i mean this so sincerely: thank you

[edwinisms]

literally I have not written this much in the span of a couple weeks since like. mid high school. so around 7-8 years ago. what has this show done to me