the worst trait of me and my family is probably this: we never learned to say the word sorry.
i) my best friend and i, we are no people. knives? maybe. liars? definitely. but people? i’m not so sure.
knives were never forged to be tender (what a shame, what a shame) and we too, fall and slay what we meant to protect. him and i, we go for the throat when we clash. we hurt and bleed and oh, i should be terrified, i should be running for my life, but all i am is tired and a bit lonely and would really like his arms around me.
( “can we please stop fighting now.”
“oh god yes please.”)
because time and time again, this man has held my heart in his hands and cleaned its festering wounds with cotton dipped in alcohol (always the healer, always the lover) and wrapped gauze around them with clinical precision. and i have walked through the maze of his head and tended to his withering garden, have dragged the sun and fresh air and all the oceans to the barren land to make it bloom (always the poet, always the lover).
him and i, we have never needed words because we are knives forged in the same fire and at the end of the day, we both know that he will be the one who wordlessly stitches my broken heart and i will be the one who sings him to sleep.
ii) let me paint you a picture:
blue that fades into red that fades into black that fades into blue that fades into red. loud, clashing and nonsensical. a pit in your stomach that was dug with desperation and blunt fingernails. how do you colour anger that is also pain, grief, hate, love, fear and truth? the smell of the paint is foul and clogs your windpipes. blunt fingernails and blue and black and madness. can you bear to look at what you created without flinching?
that’s what anger looks like on my father. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
all his life, my father has been scorned, belittled, beaten, spat on. his mother didn’t love him right because her mother didn’t love her right. my dad loves like he hates. something is fucked in his head and heart and his words fade into black and blue and red and this shitshow always ends with me sobbing, bleeding, dying on the floor. my father watches with his hackles raised and his eyes red and wide and glowing. once wounded, an animal never sheathes its claws. it strikes the ones it loves and walks away with its head held high and hands trembling.
but here’s what happens when the curtains close: he pulls me into his arms and brings me tea. he wipes away my tears with hands that has moved mountains to make me smile. he kisses my forehead and tells me that his mom didn’t love him right. my grief is like anger and indignation and love. i wrap my arms around him and cry all the tears he never had the luxury to. who should say sorry, really? is it him or his mom or his mom’s mom or this stupid fucking world? my father has never said the word sorry. he never needed to. this is what love looks like on us. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
iii) despite it all, i am not usually an angry person. i take after my father and my mother, after all. i rage like my mother (quick, loud, fire that burns out almost as quickly as it sparked to life) and fight like my father (aim, shoot, bullseye). my sister does something even mildly upsetting and before i know it, i’m cursing her to be miserable till she dies. not even an hour later i’m draping myself over her shoulder and bugging her till she rolls her eyes and smiles ever so slightly.
(“do you have no shame?”
“yeah no i don’t think so.”)
my family and i, we never learned to say the word sorry. because the word sorry never meant sorry, not to us. because at the end of the day, that’s all it is: a word. and it sticks to the back of my tongue and the dents of my molars and gets tangled in my mouth when i try to spit it out. so i grab it by its throat and thread it into my being. i find it so much easier to hide my pathetic inability to do one thing that doesn’t scream that there's something wrong with me with the truth of another three words:
“i love you”
and they are always echoed back to me, just a few million times more tender, in ways only we can understand.
“yeah, i know.”
“that’s great, but there’s no escaping dishes duty.”
“oh, shut up, you.”
“what’s that for?”
a pause and a hum.
“i love you too.”
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I never quite knew anger, until I knew fury borne from pain.
He who chose to break you, deserves to hurt the same.
Love, I was late to shield you. But this I now proclaim.
My wrath will destroy any who dare touch you, if you ever cry my name.
---penned by bird-inacage
(A few people have asked, so I thought I’d add a note here. I wrote these lines myself. They’re not taken from any quote/poem).
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Some character designs for my favorite Feanorions
Top to bottom: Caranthir, Curufin and Maedhros
I headcanon post-Thangorodrim Maitimo not really caring much about appearances anymore as it was one of the things used against him during his stay but still looking effortlessly sexy. Keeps his hair relatively short for a while
Atarinke has long hair but mostly keeps it in a practical updo cause forges are hot as hell. Third pic is his more regular style. He still has grey eyes like his da but it's bordering on blue
Carnistir I always picture with a more fancy, 80s goth look. He has long hair but the style makes it look like it's only shoulder length. Gave him ruby and onyx earrings for the themes✨. I was thinking of Cher the entire time I was drawing him.
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Do you have any part 2 hot takes?
i can see you're trying to get me in trouble.
that's fine.
i have two? i think. no three but that's not a hot take it is an opinion. a correct one but still just an opinion.
i think the amped up drama and sudden hate for LW this season was kind of over the top and some people were really too hard on penelope for it. even the queen picked up LW always rushing to "save the bridgertons", she didn't do anything she did to deliberately hurt them except maybe, uh, once. which brings me to number two:
some people are wilding about a comment colin made while angry and hurt that no one but penelope heard but have no issue with what she printed about him in part one for the whole ton to read. neither one of them really meant what they said, they were lashing out and neither one of them really apologized for it but only one of them is going to have it held against them. at least be equal opportunity about it. they're both halves of a whole soulmated idiot and deserve a little grace.
opinion: colin and penelope would have couples costumes for halloween and it would 100% be his idea and he would do the planning every year. the costumes would always be some sort of pun and it's a hill i am willing to die on.
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I have some questions for Stanley do you ever have flashbacks and nightmares of the war? If so how bad do they tend to get? do you have some sort of comfort item or like a little safe space for you?
Stanley: *looks awkwardly away* Well-yeah kinda, like I’ve struggled with severe anxiety, the amount of panic and anxiety attacks I’ve gotten especially after Kyle’s death, and my jinx definitely didn’t help me out, well some days I have nightmares on that day or when-him-constantly berating me and calling me all sorts of horrid things or when my old manager before I came to the msr-
But Nia and Freddie, they also know-what’s it’s like- I mean they did sortave kindave taught me everything they know(like Kyle)-They’re were both so funny and tried their hardest to made me laugh and smile and they didn’t criticize or berate me when I’ve cried or made mistakes started talking about bugs and stayed awake with me when I had trouble falling asleep (insomnia I hate you so much) since they also had trouble sleeping…
Nia spoke a lot about her old home in South Africa 🇿🇦 like the animals living there and she told me stories and she sung me a lullaby in Xhosa? Zulu? I believe (and I’ve memorized it by heart) to help soothe my fears, we talked a lot about animals together even spend time at her flower garden and Freddie always tries to get me to race him though it’s more of a doubleheader with him being goofy and telling me a bunch of silly things heh.
The others have also helped me.. I mean Stuart, Falcon and Andreas worked all day to try and help me with my jinx and Andreas did apologize to me for suggesting I would be better off as a generator (though that’s not a terrible idea, I’ll keep it in mind and that’s not the most horrible thing I’ve been told to do-….)
And- and *he gives a slight hopeful grin* Duke and Toby did help me get rid of my jinx and well-I feel so happy *gently chuckles*I’ve haven’t felt this much… freedom in years…it’s.its exhilarating (kyle should be alive not me-)
Ah-sorry for rambling I admit I don’t exactly have a comforting item or memento unless you count the Little Rock’s and geodes or herbs and flowers Nia, Freddie and I find together, and I love being in Nia’s flower garden, there’s a track nearby the forest where I get to look at the constellations 🌌 and the stars since Nia and Kyle told me so much if that’s a comfort space to say-well as long as its not raining or the weather is too much it’s comforting to me…
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day 01 // 100dop++
decided to start a loosely defined productivity challenge to start off the new year, counting the days for as long as i feel like. the goal is to get off holiday potato mode, focus on my priorities, and work towards the version of me i dream of without burning out, fighting fear and doubt and visualizing success - no self-discouragement here. (but since i want to try to make daily posts, i will probs mostly be taking my pics from the internet...like i've done today)
����🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉🔪🍉
study stats (50/10): 🍅🍅🍅
meditate ✅
physio ✅
learn Perl ✅ (timestamp: 22:52 / 4:10:32 hopefully it gets easier...i doubt it tho 💀 but i feel my brain expanding and it's fun to practice git while i'm at it - i was quite intimidated by git for a while so i feel extra cool when i use it rn 😎😅)
sensation & perception notes (1/3) ✅
digital organization ✅
learn R ✅ (if i continue to do 2 sections / day, i can finish the course in 3 days! 😤)
exercise ✅
start beginner java course ✅ (anyone else also feel the need to learn >1 language at a time to not get bored? 😅 hopefully i can keep up the momentum with school... when i say i started this course, i mean i barely started it.)
laundry ✅
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Okay but the way swords in danmei often represent/are associated with manhood and masculinity and the way hensheng is a soft sword and a sneaky weapob could very well represent JGY's position as "lesser" for his origins as a prostitute's son.
Like the way JGY is treated, in lack of better wording, as a woman, throughout the whole novel, (see: the way he's held up to higher standarts than everyone else, the way his standing will plummet with a single whiff of sex relating to him, the way he has to protect himself and take preemptive measures against everyone and everything and most of the time he's right)
I feel it kind of ties onto the way hensheng works, as an assassin's weapon, as something that doesn't require strenght per se, as something hidden easily, etc, and the fact that it's a soft sword— soft as women and JGY are expected to be, soft as they have to be to survive, but deathly nonethelesss
Idk. I'm just very into swords and very into the subtle themes of emasculation around JGY's character
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