Love Begins
trying on a metaphor
Mike Driver
if i look back, i am lost
Discoholic 🪩
Andulka
hello vonnie
No title available
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
shark vs the universe
taylor price
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
JVL
todays bird
Janaina Medeiros
h
Monterey Bay Aquarium
JBB: An Artblog!
sheepfilms
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
seen from France
seen from China
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from New Zealand
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from Canada
seen from Canada
@gravitysmadness
He was going to kill me. And you killed my father. My m- You didn’t finish the job so I had to finish it for you by putting a bullet in my mother’s head. And then you lit my house on fucking fire. So I shot your brother in the face. And now we are going to kill you because you fucked up our lives. That’s the other thing you took from us – each other.
Gareth to Will, the final fight.
You have to know human behaviour … And the quality of your writing is absolutely capped at your understanding of human behaviour. You’ll never write above what you know about people.
Tony Gilroy (BAFTA/BFI Screenwriters Lecture)
A Bit About Twins
tangosvu asked: I’m writing a story about a set of twins who start with the dominant/submissive generalization (one twin talks, the other doesn’t) and eventually plan to switch the dominance. I’m looking for information on how to write twin speak and other kinds of twin idiosyncrasies. Thanks for the help!
Normally I would advise you to do your own research, but this topic struck my fancy, so I’ve compiled some interesting resources for you. I would, however, like to stress that these links are a starting point for you, not the endpoint of your hunt for information. If you want to know about twins, I think it’s probably best to talk to twins. Hopefully, we will be able to provide you with some volunteers.
At the bottom of the post, I will compile any further resources, including fellow writers who volunteer to answer questions for you about twins.
So, without any further ado…
Twinspeak, also known as cryptophasia, is a type of idioglossia, or a language spoken only by one or a few people. Here’s a bit more about twinspeak.
Wikipedia: Idioglossia
Wikipedia: Cryptophasia
Slate.com: Dugon, Haus You Dinikin, Du-Ah: The secrets of twin speak by Jon Lackman
Psychologytoday.com: Twin Speak
Google Scholar search for “psychology articles twins”
Here are a few general but interesting article on twins.
The Washington Post Magazine: Nature & Nurture When It Comes to Twins, Sometimes It’s Hard To Tell the Two Apart by Arthur Allen
Vice.com: Meet the Nieratkos - The Twins of Atlanta by Chris Nieratko (EXPLICIT)
Articles on twins from The New York Times
Scientificamerican.com: Identical Twins’ Genes Are Not Identical by Anne Casselman
Pinterest: Interesting Articles about Twins
Independent.co.uk: Similar but not identical: study reveals more about twins than about education by Steve Connor
Theweek.com: 9 incredible stories about identical twins by Lauren Hansen
Theguardian.com: Black and white twins by Joanna Moorhead
Nationalgeographic.com: Twins by Peter Miller
Discovery.com: Do Twins Have a Mysterious Connection? by Benjamin Radford
Psychologytoday.com: Straight Talk about Twin Studies, Genes, and Parenting: What Makes Us Who We Are by Scott Barry Kaufman, Ph.D.
NPR.org: Life As Identical Twins: ‘One And The Same’ (audio)
And here are a few IAMA Reddits for twins.
IamA We are identical male twins who are in the same college program, one semester apart! We’ve seen and done some awesome twin things! We also have had some unusual requests! AMA!
I am an identical twin, AmA
I am an extremely identical twin. AMA!
IAMA Identical mirror twin
IAm The submissive from a set of identical twins girls. AMA
I am an identical twin, the evil one
IAmA heterosexual identical twin with a homosexual brother. AMA
We are 19 year old identical twin sisters! Ask us anything
If you are a twin and you would like to be a resource for tangosvu, please respond to this post and I will add you to the list.
Thank you!
-C
AU short story [ Gareth & Seth ]
Seth wound his way through the first floor of the lounge, mildly ashamed that his feet knew exactly where to go so he moved as if on autopilot. He weaved through the familiar pattern of the tables and booths where even in the dim, ambient light of candles and LEDs he found his way easily enough, turning as the lounge’s bar curved to the right and ending in a dark corner where a set of metal double doors stood ominously, the same color as the dark stone walls so that anyone who didn’t know any better would never have noticed, unless you knew it was there and what dark and dubious world lay behind.
Seth paused, hands twitching as though they themselves were nervous about opening the doors as well. He felt a stone of sadness heavily settle itself in the pit of his stomach but also a wave of dread wash over him. He knew his friend was in there and he could imagine what sort of state he was in and what he was probably doing but it didn’t matter, he was on a mission with a precious objective – to remove his friend from this place, by any means necessary.
He knew that there was no way he would ever be prepared enough so he swallowed hard and willed his fear and anxiety away. It was selfish; he was here for Gareth after all and if he didn’t get him out of here tonight, no one would… ever.
Like a soldier, he stood tall and squared his shoulders and with determination (desperation?) he pushed open the doors with force and passed through.
He took the first step down with a confidence he prayed not to lose as he descended down the long flight of very wide stairs, wide enough that three people could walk down side by side. His boots squeaked as they moved against the rubber of the steps but the sound was drowned out by the time he reached the bottom.
There were so many elements that affected the senses down here. The cold air always hit him first as he stepped down onto the smoothed concrete floor that was the wide, high and very long and winding hallway. Even though he had been here before, tonight was different and he felt as if he were now standing in the driveway of the devil’s playhouse. The music would hit him next, the sound of different songs pumping from different areas mixing into some awkward and disconcerting tune but as he made his way down, the louder it got and then he would feel it pulsing against his skin. Then the smells; there were so many. Wisps of perfumes, sex, drugs, medicine and various bodily fluids assaulted his sinuses.
He hated to admit he always liked the lighting down here though; the hallway had a light blue glow that seemed to come from nowhere, and there were different colors of lighting that came from different rooms. But he shook his head and got back into focus. Gareth was down here somewhere and he needed to hurry up and find him.
There were some people in the hallway leaning against the walls talking, some kissing and some leaning close together, heads down and making deals. He passed them without really noticing them. Once the sets of small rooms with half-length black curtains came into view and he saw the red lights filtering through the bottom, he stopped.
He realized he didn’t know where to start looking.
It wasn’t safe to just go from room to room and asking random people and tapping on random shoulders. So he closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths right there in the middle of the hallway and tried to somehow sense his friend. He mentally prayed to be led to wherever his friend was. He tried thinking of the smell of Gareth’s cologne; it was distinguishable, at least to him. He had a thing for Gareth’s fragrance of choice; it was nice and one that he would probably be able to pick out in a crowd. He prayed even harder that he would be able to do it tonight, that even with the air being thick with pretty and pungent poisons, that he would somehow be led to him.
He breathed in deep again, his mind filtering through all of the different smells as he tried to remember Gareth’s.
He began to walk forward and only opened his eyes enough to see where he was going. He heard moans and cries of passion and loud talking and rowdy laughter the farther he walked. He caught bits of random conversations and one woman’s words that came from one of the dark niches ahead caught his attention.
“After the candy sale earlier, all of the rollers are postin’ up in the room down there,”
The room down there.
That was it. He knew it.
There must have been another big shipment in from the port and the club had gotten its bimonthly batch of ecstasy so naturally patrons and users wanted to come and get their orders or hang out for the night. It was Saturday after all. Every other Saturday was the big nights for the X parties.
Seth should’ve known better. Well, at least now he knew where to find Gareth.
Problem was he knew what Gareth would probably be doing. But that’s fine, it’s not like he didn’t expect it. He came prepared and had an idea or two of how to make this work… but not much else. This would have to be done very carefully. The last thing he wants is to have a room full of people trippin’ balls on MDMA to get mad and bum rush him. Or worse. Either way, he didn’t have a choice.
He lifted his eyes and stared down the hall at the last door on the right. It wasn’t known as anything other than The Big Room or The Room or The Blue Room. It was a very large oval shaped room with a leather sectional that went all the way around the room. There were also leather ottomans that filled the center or the room. Large projection screens also lined the walls on all sides showing anything from music videos to abstract designs to porn. And lastly there were LED lights that framed the bottom of the sectional all the way around and the ceiling bulbs that glowed blue, hence how the room got its name. Ecstasy users primarily occupied this room and people danced, raved, used, talked and fucked. Mostly they fucked.
And that’s exactly where Seth was headed.
He walked with a purpose towards the room where he could hear the loud thumping music reverberating through the concrete walls and floor. He sped up his pace; he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
The light cast a blue shadow from the open door that spilled into the hallway. He was nervous but he only walked faster. A humorous thought came to him when he reached the doorway.
He had never been in this place while sober.
He allowed himself a chuckle but then bit down on his lip hard and strode right into the room. His senses lit up whenever entering this room; the light, the sound of feet moving on the carpeted floor, of skin sliding against skin, heavy breathing; the cold air that brought bumps to his chilled flesh; and the smell of sweat, sex, leather and, thankfully, sanitizer because the management did take great care to making sure this area of the building was always clean and hygienic.
Couldn’t say the same for the occupants most of the time, unfortunately.
There were all kinds of patrons everywhere. There were women who were scantily clad or even completely nude either with someone or dancing. There were young people with glow sticks raving to the thumping bass of that music that pulsated around them. People who were in in depth conversations always kept near the door, which he could hear as Seth stood there observing. And of course, people were fucking and it didn’t matter with whom. Young and old, men with women and those of the same gender, it didn’t matter here, on this drug nothing mattered. Nothing was taboo, which is the main thing everyone loves about ecstasy. Seth would be the first to admit it without shame.
He quickly scanned the room, breathing in deep to find that scent. But he didn’t have to search long before his eyes fell on his friend’s beautiful bared neck with his head thrown back in pleasure; with his pants around his ankles, crying out as he bounced on some fat stranger’s dick.
Here we go.
He strode right up to them and didn’t even bother with Gareth and went straight for the man’s attention. He leaned close and spoke loud to be heard above the music.
“How much, man?”
The large man with a thick mustache, who did not smell appealing when perspiring, was barely able to focus his eyes on him enough to give him a confused and startled look. “What?”
Seth leaned in closer. “How much for this sweet thing?” He rephrased his question and rubbed his hand lovingly across Gareth’s lower back where his shirt had ridden up. And kept his gaze hard and his face right in front of the customer so his focus wouldn’t roll back.
The man looked annoyed from being interrupted, the fact that Gareth was still hopping on this man’s cock had Seth fighting for his attention. So he flashed three Benjamins at him. He wrapped his arm around the front of Gareth’s neck for emphasis and he tried not to pay attention to how his heart was breaking at the fact that Gareth had no idea what was going on. In the face of the cash the man’s eyes finally began to focus.
“Fuck off!” The man said as he lazily pushed his hand away. But Seth was prepared and he hoped that this would do the trick; he didn’t have any other alternative besides just simply grabbing Gareth and dragging him out but if that’s what he had to do then he would.
So he fished two more Benjamins out of his back pocket and waved all five bills in his face. He threaded his fingers through the hair on the nape of his friends’ neck and pulled slightly in a show of determination. The man looked around the room at the other patrons and what he was thinking or looking for, Seth didn’t care, and sighed inwardly with relief when the man rolled his eyes and ripped the cash from his hand. “Whatever.”
Seth hooked his other arm under Gareth’s and went to pull him off the man’s dick and even though he didn’t want to, there was something he had to look for.
Jesus Christ, he almost cried right then and there: the man wasn’t wearing a condom.
Frustration and anger gave him the physical strength to lift his friend off the guy and pulled the tight jeans back onto his muscular legs and he began to lead him out of the room, cautiously weaving through the people and finally making it out the door. The only convenient about this area of the club was the exit door right by The Room which was exit only. He chanced a look up at his friend and Gareth’s eyes were barely able to stay open, pupils blown and sweat pouring off his face and neck. They were of similar height but Gareth was lean where Seth was stocky so Seth had to use the bulk of his own width to hold Gareth’s weight and lead him through the door and up the stairs that led to the back of the ground level parking lot, which was fortunately out of sight from the upper level guests and busy streets.
When he finally tossed Gareth into the passenger seat of his Jeep, his friend’s eyes were fully closed and his mouth hung open comically. He fastened the seatbelt and made it out of there as fast and as safely as he could. The ride mostly consisted of Gareth’s moans and mumbles. At one point Seth reached over and put his head on his friend’s forehead and his hand was quickly covered in sweat that was pouring off of him. “Gareth?” He tried.
“Hunyghh,” came the deep reply. His body was still writhing and he kept flexing his fingers and rubbing them on his pant leg and grabbing his jeans and rubbing his fingers over his forearms hard. “What?”
Seth reached down and grasped his hand. “Dude it’s me, Seth,”
Gareth turned his bleary gaze towards him, his blue eyes dark and near unrecognizable beneath the swollen black pupils. His brows furrowed. “Seth?” Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and Seth saw his teeth beginning to gnaw on his lower lip. With one hand on the wheel, Seth fished around and found a straw and pushed it into Gareth’s mouth for him to chew on, lest he chew a hole in his cheeks or lips.
He turned his attention back to the road and continued to drive.
*
Gareth was heavier than he looked. He had the majority of his weight on him while Gareth was at least able push forward on his toes. Seth practically dragged him through the parking garage and into the elevator to his floor. When the doors opened they both damn near face planted in the hallway. Growling in frustration, Seth used the rest of his strength and hoisted his friend over his shoulder and walked with him to his door… until he realized he didn’t have a key.
He tried turning the handle just to see if Gareth was dumb enough to leave it unlocked but to no avail. So he dropped him completely to the floor and raided his pockets. Gareth was still moaning and babbling and conscious but more than likely he was now peaking on his roll and would be out of it for a few more hours.
Seth whooped with victory when he found the fucking keys in one of the front pockets of his too tight jeans and opened the door and began to simply drag his friend’s body into the apartment. Once the door slammed shut Seth locked it then promptly fell to the floor and desperately tried to catch his breath. He was mentally drained after his adventure at the club and even though the dangerous part was over, the hard part was only just beginning, the emotional part. His body didn’t want to move from dragging Gareth’s weight around and he had a headache from being in the club and the mental stress of getting him out. He thanked his lucky fucking stars that it had been as easy as it had. He tried to swallow as he lay flat on his back on the cool hardwood floor but he couldn’t. He was so tired. But he forced himself up because his job was only half done.
He sat up and looked over at his friend who was now writhing and clawing at the floor; it would have looked sensual had Seth not known it was purely the drug. Gareth’s eyes were closed and he was still chewing on the straw and breathing heavily. Damnit, he was still peaking. That meant that he would need to stay with him until he began to come down or else he wasn’t going to get through to him very much and he seemed really gone. It concerned Seth to think of how much he had taken.
He crawled over to Gareth and leaned over him, cupping his face with both hands, Lord he was warm, and tried to get his attention.
“Gareth? Gareth, look at me please! Look at me,” he patted his cheeks firmly and his friend forced his eyes open and it took effort to keep them open. “Nngh?” Fuck, his pupils were blown beyond belief, no blue could be seen and that straw was just about through. If only Seth had a pacifier, but he wouldn’t leave Gareth, he couldn’t.
“How many did you take, dude, how many tabs did you take?” he gripped his face firm as to try to keep his attention. The man beneath him mumbled something but he couldn’t make it out. “What?”
“Two!” Gareth near shouted past the straw and Seth let go of his face.
Ok, he obviously took two at once, not bad, could be a lot worse and there’s always the chance that Gareth was on something else as well but he doubted it. He hoped he wasn’t. Well he had about a good hour before the strongest part of the peak was over and Gareth would be on his way down so all he could do was make him comfortable and keep an eye on his heart rate. Granted it wasn’t so bad if he really was only on ecstasy but tonight was just another car on the train that was Gareth’s life and would soon be wrecking. And it was up to him to stop it. He cared about him greatly. He wasn’t going to let his friend kill himself and that’s exactly where he’s headed.
*
Forty-five minutes later and Seth had him on the bed in only his boxers under the ceiling fan with only the light from the open bathroom door shining into the room. He had managed to find Gareth a pacifier from a drawer full of ‘goodies’ in his nightstand. Seth had debated on whether or not to turn on any soft music or even annoying music to try and pull his friend out of his state faster but decided against it altogether. Now he was just dabbing his face, neck and chest with a cool, damp cloth to help bring him down.
Gareth was still breathing heavy and his eyes were closed and he was getting to the sleepy stage of his roll and his body would be ready to shut down for sleep soon. Seth went and got Gareth’s tray from the living room and got a joint, lighting it and taking the first hit. He helped Gareth sit up and lean against the headboard and Seth got comfortable next to him. He helped Gareth in smoking the joint with him. The pot would help relax his muscles and slow down his heart beat and fall asleep faster.
Seth hoped that this would work. He hoped that he might be able to get through to Gareth. It was all fun and games in the beginning. They partied together, went out together and Seth had really started liking him as a friend but Gareth just keep trying new shit and they knew then where he might be headed. He was so mad at him. Seth hadn’t known what to do until now. He figured it was him or no one. But now the sheer physical and emotional exhaustion was getting to him and he started wondering if he even could do this.
A clammy hand on Seth’s thigh got his attention and he turned and saw Gareth blinking up at him, saying softly, “I’m ok, Seth.”
Seth stared at him blankly for a few moments then narrowed his eyes. “Only because I got your ass outta there. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” He took the joint from Gareth and tossed it on the night stand.
Gareth rolled his eyes and fell silent. He turned away from Seth’s looks and at length he spoke softly. “Yeah, man. I do.”
Something froze in Seth’s chest and his eyes widened at his friend’s words. “So you’re completely aware that you get fucked up and go dance around bareback on some random fat fuck’s dick, tossing your head back like a little fucking whore?” Seth’s words and inflection rose with each word but at the word ‘whore’ he got a right hook to the face so hard and sudden he was sent flying off the bed and onto the hardwood floor.
“What the fuck man!” he cried and got to his feet and crawled over the bed and held Gareth’s head down and gave him a few punches to the shoulder. Gareth shoved him and got to his feet unsteadily but Seth was suddenly there pushing him back against the brick bedroom wall. He had his forearm crossed over Gareth’s chest so he couldn’t move. “This is all you man, you know that right! This is all you,” he growled and then moved and led his friend into the bathroom and shoved his head towards the mirror. “Look at yourself!”
Gareth winced when his forehead connected with the mirror unexpectedly. When his vision finally focused, his blood ran cold. He didn’t remember the last time he looked in a mirror. His skin looked sickly pale and grey, hair an ashen color, very bland and he was no longer as lean and fit as he used to be. He wasn’t thin but there were ribs showing in places where there wasn’t a few months ago. His normally bold blue eyes were dark and dull and his hair was sweaty and dingy and it was getting longer, hanging in front of his eyes a little. And he looked extremely tired.
Seth’s hand was still holding the back of his head and Gareth couldn’t look anymore, he let his head fall forward as he let out a few ragged breaths. The darker haired man finally let go and let his hand travel down his bare back before dropping to his side. He moved to stand close, in front of his friend and leaned their foreheads together and spoke softly but low and serious.
“You gotta stop this. It’s one thing to party and have a good time but this… you’re falling apart. What are you trying to pacify?” His voice fell to a whisper and he tried to get Gareth’s gaze to meet his.
Gareth raised his eyes and was met with bright and desperate blue ones. Seth’s hand came back up to thread his fingers through his friend’s hair. “You are more than the life you are living. Or not living. You’re the kind of person who creates and reveals things, not cheapen and destroy them.” He squeezed gently, for both emphasis and from Seth’s own emotions. “Just stop this, Gareth. Just stop.” Seth finished tiredly. He let go of his friend and made his way to the front door.
Gareth was momentarily stunned but turned and hurried after his friend and stopped him before he could open the door. “Seth!” He cried while taking his arm. “Why do you care?”
Seth stared at him for a moment with hopeful eyes before leaning in. Their lips came close to brushing but Seth stopped, and couldn’t do it. He pulled back slightly to shyly kiss Gareth’s cheek and locked eyes with him before opening the door and leaving without a word, leaving Gareth rooted to the floor in surprise. He reached up and touched his cheek. The area tingled where Seth’s soft lips has been and Gareth felt something foreign bloom in his chest and spread throughout his body.
He numbly made his way back to his bedroom and stood there uselessly looking around. He stared at his bed, where Seth had been with him all night looking after him. He walked over to sit on his bed where it was still slightly warm but upon sitting Gareth hissed as his sore ass was brought to his attention. As balls to the wall as he was most of this night, he obviously didn’t feel how much of a hit his body had taken with the drugs and the fucking. He didn’t now remember who it was at all. All he knew was that he was fucked up and getting fucked and he couldn’t feel much of anything. Bareback… that’s what Seth had said. No protection. Gareth felt like vomiting and his hand lashed out in anger and disgust and he sent a framed picture flying off his nightstand. It startled him and he gasped for breath for a moment before he got up to retrieve it. He froze. It was a picture from one night when they had stayed out all night and had just left the bar when it closed. They were standing on a city bridge and Seth loved taking pictures so of course he took a great one of them then, the city lights in the dark night all around them, reflecting off the waterway. He had a lot of fun nights with Seth but hadn’t in a while. He had been too busy fucking around and fucking up to notice he was in actuality losing a good friend, a real friend. Now he and Seth had partied hard but he never lost control, he wasn’t pushing things down and self-medicating.
And yet… Gareth touched his cheek again and felt a pang in his chest.
Seth had done an epic thing coming to his rescue tonight. He got him out of there and home safely all by himself. And with how messed up he was and what he was doing God only knows where he would be right now. Seth gave enough of a damn to save his life.
And it was a fact that Seth had just almost kissed him and actually kissed his cheek.
In that moment Gareth sunk to the floor and cried.
~
Roughly a month later Gareth was sitting at the chill lounge where he had first met Seth. He has even sitting at the same stool table. He sat patiently and hopefully nursing a crown and coke. He had come a long way. And after a month of intensely trying to get healthier and turning his life back around, he had begun really missing Seth. He hadn’t contacted or really seen anyone. He had been so focused on himself. And he felt he was finally ready to come out and face the world again.
He had been here for two hours already and it was actually not the first time he’d come here on a weekend night and sit and wait if he ever bumped into Seth. He was too ashamed and not yet brave enough to straight up call Seth. He wanted to try to bump into him somewhere and surprise him.
And Gareth himself was surprised when at that moment the man of his musings came right through the door with one of their mutual friends. He felt a rush; Seth was amazing. That calm and content look of him with his lazy smile. He wasn’t wearing any eye makeup and his eyes shined bright in the dim lighting of the lounge. Gareth sighed and simply watched him for a few minutes. He noticed that Seth seemed to be glancing around, searching for something himself. Their eyes met and a blue gaze bore right into his own and Gareth couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. His smile widened when Seth gave a smile of his own and walked over to him.
His friend nodded at him. “This seat taken?”
Gareth nodded back. “You’ve had a reservation for a while now.”
Seth’s look softened and he sat down and gave Gareth a once over. “You look amazing,” he said lowly and sincerely.
“Thanks,” Gareth replied. “I’ve been working out and attempting a healthier diet.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his now shorter and kempt hair. The dirty blond had come back and it looked fresh again. Seth ordered a drink when a waitress came by and after taking a sip of his Johnnie Walker, he gave Gareth another once over, this time his gaze lingering. He bit his lip before asking and he didn’t really want to ask but he really wanted to know. And by the look on his friend’s face he knew the question was hanging there.
Thankfully Gareth already knew the question. “I get the results next week.” He softly said. Seth took a deep breath and nodded. Let me know, it went unspoken.
Changing the subject, Gareth spoke lightly. “I started publishing again. So I’m not broke anymore.”
Ink (2009) - As the light fades and the city goes to sleep, two forces emerge. They are invisible except for the power they exert over us in our sleep, battling for our souls through dreams. One force delivers hope and strength through good dreams; the other infuses the subconscious with desperation through nightmares.
If you have not seen this film, please check it out.
Ink (2009) - As the light fades and the city goes to sleep, two forces emerge. They are invisible except for the power they exert over us in our sleep, battling for our souls through dreams. One force delivers hope and strength through good dreams; the other infuses the subconscious with desperation through nightmares.
If you have not seen this film, please check it out.
Jacob: They’re all reactions! One thing begets the next. A man has a weakness, he’s flawed. That flaw leads him to guilt. The guilt leads him to shame. The shame he compensates with pride and vanity. And when pride fails, despair takes over and they all lead to his destruction. It will become his fate… Something’s gotta stop the flow.
In this post we’ll be talking about open hand strikes, how they work and what they do. While closed hand strikes are more popular in fiction, the ones working with the open hand are also important. We’ll start by talking about the advantages and disadvantages of the open hand, and then try to give some insight into some specific strikes with some examples on how to write them.
With open hand strikes, there’s honestly not that much to say. Or there’s not much I can say, aside from a few common ones, they’re not my specialty. But try not to let that worry you too much, I’m avoiding the spear hand on principle because it’s finicky and the chances your character would have to use the strike are so limited (and so obvious) that it’s better to just ignore it for the moment.
So, let’s get down to it.
Open hand strikes can be, in the right circumstances, more dangerous than a closed fist because they focus the force of the strike into a much more concentrated point than the fist. It’s important to remember that most of the conventional wisdom about force application we have in popular culture comes from observations made about various sport styles and exhibition fighting, such as in movies and staged fights at martial arts tournaments. The assumption becomes that those moves were chosen to be allowed because they are more effective, not less. The problem though, with that assumption is that while goal of fighting is to win, it’s also to do so with relative safety and not kill the opponent. Injure, wound, and maim perhaps, but again not kill. The same is true for both tournament demonstration and media in general. Many of the open hand strikes are, in fact, designed not just for killing but also screwing with the body’s internal energy flow and its nervous system.
Open hand strikes are useful in that they can transition more easily into blocks than the closed hand strikes.
Below: the open palm strike, the half-palm strike, the knife hand, the ridge hand, and the slap.
The Open Palm Strike:
A common strike in Karate and Tae Kwan Do, the palm strike (open and half) is one that allows the attacker to hit their opponents body with minimal risk to the delicate bones in the hand. The open palm strike specifically hits the opponent with the meaty portion of the lower palm in the vulnerable areas of the body. It is important to remember, that the strike does not use the whole hand. The palm strike uses the wrist as the driving force behind the assault, with the hand vertical to the rest of the arm. It’s important to keep the entire hand and wrist tight to absorb the impact. Like the punch, the palm strike goes upwards at a 45 degree angle to the face (hitting the nose, it drives the cartilage into the brain) and straight to the stomach. If the strike is low enough, it can connect with the throat, but it’s also important not to catch the fingers on the chin. There is, however, a variation on the half-palm strike that goes to the throat and it is discussed below.
Remember, like all strikes, the power of the palm strike comes from the hips, the shoulders, and the pivot of the front or back foot, not the muscles in arm. Martial arts is a full body exercise.
How do you write it? Here’s an example:
Amy stepped in as her opponent’s arm came up. Folding her fingers in until they touched the underside of her knuckles, she bent her hand up to expose the fleshy portion of her palm. There wasn’t enough distance between the two of them for her to strike his nose and he was closing rapidly.
Well, Amy realized, she’d just have to take a chance.
Jaw clenching, her elbow and shoulder pulled back. Then, her hand shot out, slamming her palm into the small, vulnerable opening underneath his chest. As the wind went out of him, she threw herself forward. Her hands rose to clinch the back of his head, her fingers locking together as her elbows folded in around his throat. Drawing him down as her hip came up, she rammed her right knee into his groin.
The Half-Palm Strike:
The major difference between the open palm strike and the half-palm is that the first one comes in with fingers straight, the second folds the fingers and tucks them in tight against the bottom knuckle of the palm. When the half palm is vertical to the wrist it strikes the same as the open palm. However, when it’s horizontal and in-line with the wrist, it strikes with the joints to the windpipe or the stomach. It can be performed overhand (with the palm facing down) or underhand (with the palm facing up).
Common Beginner Mistake: The open palm strike is commonly taught first, on the basis of beginners risking a finger break. The joints of the fingers are extremely delicate, so if it connects wrong such as the practitioner forgetting to pull their hand all the way back to expose the meaty portion of the palm when the hand is vertical or connecting with a bony part of the body such as the cheek, chest, or chin when doing the horizontal version the fighter risks damage to themselves.
So, how do you write it? Here’s an example:
Alan’s fingers folded in and he rolled his hand over. Drawing his arm down to his waist, he struck upwards at a forty-five degree angle. The tender joints of his fingers met his opponent’s windpipe, but instead of slamming through, Alan pulled back. After all, this was just a training exercise. Jim stumbled, hands rising to his throat. He hacked and wheezed, drawing air up in through his nostrils. Then, he lifted his head. Narrowed eyes glared at Alan as Jim turned his head to the side and spat.
The Knife Hand:
We’ve talked some about the knife hand and how dangerous it can be in previous posts, but we’re going to talk about it again! Why? Why not! The knife hand is a bread and butter strike from quite a few different martial arts from all over the world, though it was popularized, attributed, and defanged by Hollywood to Karate in the 60s and 70s in the spy genre with “the karate chop”. Contrary to popular belief though, the knife hand isn’t actually a safe knockout strike to the side or back of the neck. It’s a kill strike and when it’s within range, it’s a fairly efficient one. So, be careful with it. If your character is practicing any variant of Karate or more traditional forms of Taekwondo then they will be exceedingly familiar with this strike.
The knife hand or the sword-hand uses the blade of the hand, the outside edge opposite the thumb that runs from the little finger to the wrist when the hand is flat and tightened together. The wrist locks in place to support the hand and the fingers point to create the visual profile of a knife or single edge sword. The knife hand strikes in a chopping motion either up and down or on a diagonal, it doesn’t stab. The knife hand targets soft points on the body from the carotid artery in the neck to the outside pressure point midway up the upper arm between the biceps and triceps. The strike closes the carotid artery and when it aims from the spinal column or the back of the neck, it’s looking to sever vertebrae. The blade of the hand allows for much deeper tissue penetration and more pinpointed strikes.
Common Beginner Mistake: Your character has got to keep their entire hand tightened, if they loosen up before impact they’ll damage their hand and won’t really damage their target. This is where thoughts like “I don’t want to hurt anyone” will really screw you, because it both damages a character’s ability (and yours) to fight effectively (thus ending the fight quickly before anyone is hurt more than they need to be) and the good intentions open the character up to retaliation by the person they’re fighting (who often really does want to hurt them). The knife hand, while a simple strike, doesn’t have a lot of room for error on the part of the practitioner before it’s no longer capable of dealing damage. The mind and body need to be in sync with each other.
Example:
Tightening her hand into a blade, Sonya slammed it on a downwards diagonal into the side of Misha’s throat.
The Ridge Hand:
The ridge hand is the opposite version of the knife hand, it uses the inside portion of the hand to strike on a diagonal arc to different portions of the body, such as the mastoid muscles in the neck, the jugular, the temple, the eyes, the nose, and the groin. It’s a strike that I personally feel is more dangerous to the wielder than the opponent because of what happens if they miss, but that’s why it’s high risk and high reward. Unlike the knife hand, the ridge hand is a very big strike. Much like a haymaker or roundhouse punch, it requires a rather wide arc to be successful and thus is very easy to see. This is not a stealthy strike. Like I said: high risk equals high reward.
To perform a ridge hand, tuck the thumb against the hand (or under it in some styles). Lock the fingers together, tighten the whole arm up to the shoulder and swing the arm on a diagonal, high or low, to the point of impact. The ridge hand doesn’t strike with the fingers, but with the inside side of the first knuckle on the hand. When on a high diagonal strike, the arm swings up and arcs downwards into the target, even when going across into the nose or eyes. When going to the groin, it just swings straight up between the legs while stepping through the opponent.
Common Beginner Mistake: The ridge hand really requires fairly exceptional accuracy when dealing with an opponent in non-sparring circumstances. A beginner has a greater chance of missing, which means they’ll hurt their hand in the process. It’s better to stick to safer strikes. Safer for the beginner, I mean.
Example:
Sarah whipped her arm up and slammed it downwards in a wide arc, tucking her thumb tightly against the side of her hand. The first knuckle of her hand collided with Ethan’s left temple and he stumbled backwards. Then, his eyes rolled back and he dropped to his knees.
The Slap:
The slap doesn’t get a lot of love and with good reason: there are better techniques out there that work faster and do more damage in a shorter amount of time. The slap mostly plays out in the hands of street fighters, amateurs, and wife beaters because it’s a safe strike for the hand, and spreads the force over a wide area, and is a stunner more than a hitter. But, for a character who is not sure how to fight and is worried about breaking their hand on someone else’s face, the slap is actually a pretty good strike to use when disorienting and distracting an opponent. Its fellow technique is the bitch slap which uses the knuckles on the back of the hand to make more of an impression.
The slap comes with some nasty connotations for abuse, so be careful with it.
The slap uses the whole hand to whack the opponent across the face, it’s usually going for the cheek or, more specifically, the sensitive exposed cheekbone underneath the eye. Places on the body with exposed bone like the shin, the cheek, and the elbow’s funny bone tend to be more sensitive and easy places to produce pain for a stun to lock up the opponent.
Common Beginner Mistake: This one’s more about perception of an opponent than it is about actual fighting failure. The slap is very safe and easy, but because it’s used as a controlling strike and often gets lodged in as the favoured strike of abusers and bullies, writers and their characters often underestimate those who use it. Someone picking on or hurting someone smaller and weaker than themselves is (a bad person) not necessarily a weakling that a stronger character can take out. Sometimes it’s that simple, but often people are more complex than that.
Example:
Do you really need an example for how to write a slap? I didn’t think so.
Other primers that may be of use to you:
The Kicking Primer (Basics) Part 1
The Basic Upper Body Primer (Fists)
Fight Write: Don’t Underestimate the Slap
"Don't you fucking get it?! He made a little bitch of me. I got him that rope. The rope that tied them up. It was like I helped him kill those kids!"
"Seth... he would've killed them anyway..." Gareth whispered.
*
It had now been six hours since Seth had sat himself at Gareth’s dining table facing out the large window. He didn’t think twice about straight up tossing Seth’s tattered and blood-soaked clothes into the trash and after he had gotten him as cleaned up as he was going to get without a shower, he fetched a pair of his own basketball shorts for him to wear temporarily. They hung low on his pale hips but Seth hadn’t paid any attention. It was too painful for him to lift his arms very high and he walked out of the bedroom before Gareth could offer him a shirt.
His friend’s cigarettes had been crushed during the fight and he thought about going to the store and picking up some for him but he didn’t dare leave Seth alone. So instead, he had gotten out his box and began rolling joint after joint until he had used up all of his stash and had seven lined up on the coffee table in front of him at the ready.
Seth had fallen silent after his breakdown and once he had dressed he had gone straight to the dining table and sat down. At first Gareth hadn’t known quite what to do and then half an hour later he took five joints and laid them out on the table by Seth, putting two between his lips and lighting them both up, keeping one for himself and giving the other to his friend.
After the first hour spent in silence Gareth couldn’t take it so he had turned on one of the iTunes radio stations on his laptop but kept the volume quite low. It only helped a little but it was better than nothing and Seth didn’t have any reaction.
Three hours into Seth’s vigil Gareth had practically paced trenches into his entire apartment. He had kept his own watch over his friend, gotten him a glass of ice water, an ashtray. He had made himself some grilled cheese after his first high had begun to wear off and he had even set one sandwich next to Seth just because. He had noticed then that Seth’s second joint had burned down about two thirds of the way so Gareth gently took it from him and lit another and put it to his friend’s lips. He brought the neglected roach to his own lips and finished it off.
He wasn’t fazed when the sandwich went untouched.
*
An hour and a half later Gareth woke up from where he had apparently dozed off on the couch. He jumped up in a panic but relaxed when he saw that Seth hadn’t really moved an inch. He had just stood there and watched as his friend sat motionless, his gaze far, far away as he could see the reflection in the glass of the window. Something shivered deep inside of Gareth then and he nearly doubled over and felt as if he were going to vomit. He had turned around and crouched to his knees, covered his face and took deep breaths. All of a sudden he felt overwhelmed as the reality of the situation finally hit him. He had felt sick initially when Seth had told him what had happened. For the past almost five hours he had been focused on his friend but his imagination then started to put images together in his head as his mind sped through all of the possibilities and what this now meant.
Morgan and his men had tried to kill Seth. If Gareth hadn’t believed in God before he certainly did now because it was nothing short of miraculous that Seth had escaped and made it all the way here while injured. Seth had discovered Morgan and his group’s evil secret and there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that they would need to get rid of him. Any minute his front door could be bashed in and they both could be gunned down.
The thought of death didn’t bother him much, it happens, but he realized he feared for Seth more than he could describe.
Seth was, at the end of each day, just a simple and innocent being. He was compassionate, fiery and so positive. He was full of hope and dedicated to never being chained down in any way and never wavered in the face of obstacles. He had such strong faith in things that Gareth couldn’t see nor wrap his mind around. Sure, the guy could be an asshole at times but he didn’t hate anyone, never disrespected anyone, never hurt anyone. With all his sense of fairness and understanding he was a sympathetic and merciful soul. And he had yet to show any hint of fear or hesitation in the face of life.
And that flat out terrified Gareth because this whole night he could feel raw fear radiating off his friend and charging the air. Even though he himself had never harbored any maliciousness toward anyone, it was not beyond him to go to the extreme, if the situation called for it. His own sense of justice and righteousness was stronger than his moral compass, as fucked up as that sounded. He was numb to most of the emotional effects of human action thus approached the world with logic and acceptance. Sometimes he felt heartless for his indifferent and passive attitude, sometimes feeling as if it were a burden. But then Seth had come along and over time, the man had helped him see the bigger picture, the higher meaning of everything and even though the details and acceptance of all things good and bad were important, Seth taught him that it was also important to not forget the complete structure that the details are a part of, that it was ok to feel and think the way he did but to always remember that everything is a part of everything else, that there is meaning to everything. And that sentiment truly helped the truth and the details and the harsh realities feel more like an anchor to Gareth rather than a burden, a burden that makes no sense for anyone to bear. It is what it is, as he always said, but it’s not all there is, his friend would turn and say to him.
He took a deep breath, swallowed a few times then stood and went to go check on Seth. He was met with a slightly odd sight; Seth had cleared the table and lay down on his back, staring up at the ceiling with that same faraway look in his normally bright blue eyes that were now dulled. He had a fresh joint between his fingers and it looked as if he were more aware of the business of smoking it, looking deep in thought, with purpose, even though it didn’t reach his eyes. The radio still played softly and echoed in the otherwise silent apartment.
Gareth felt like he wanted to cry.
*
Gareth watched his friend for a few more moments before a song on the radio caught his attention. With only a moment's consideration, he went and turned up the volume, causing Seth to blink out of his stupor and turn to look at him. He walked over to Seth and stood in front of him, face blank but relaxed. He reached forward and took his friend's hands and began to pull to and fro, slowly moving to the beat of the music, walking Seth away from the window. Gareth tried to contain a smile as he began to sway his hips in an exaggerated fashion. Seth looked at him strangely. Being careful not to lift his friend's arms too high, Gareth gently swung him around by one arm and wrapped one of his own around Seth's chest and then spun him back around. A low, annoyed laughed escaped Seth as he realized that Gareth was dancing with him.
Together they danced for the duration of the song; silly and comical movements that lacked any form of grace or affinity but they laughed, laughed and laughed, and in these four minutes nothing else mattered. At the end of the song they both fell to the floor and Seth groaned as his sore body landed on the hardwood floor but he was mostly fine. As they caught their breath and listened to the end of the song, they both laid back on the floor side by side, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. Gareth didn't know how much time passed as they lay there together in the still and foreboding silence. And when Seth finally spoke with calm conviction, Gareth was unsurprised at his words.
"I'm going to kill them."
"I know. And I can't stop you."
"Can't... or won't?"
