#seriously the poem was SO BEAUTIFUL oh my god

[cherryjuicegf]

for @toss-a-coin-to-your-bard thanks for the prompt darling the poem was magical!! it was only fit to write some fluff for it, i hope you enjoy ♡

wc 640

love song - rainer maria rilke

"I tried to hold it back, you know."

A light autumn breeze enters the window and the curtain floats with it. Jaskier looks at Geralt beside him, a light frown between his brows. "Hold what back?" he asks, but can't bring himself to frown for much longer.

Because the afternoon is soft and the sheets are white and Geralt looks so beautiful with the sun tangled between his lashes, that he can't help but smile. A habit, perhaps, the way he delights in the presence of beautiful things.

Geralt huffs silently and sits up to watch him straight. Yet his gaze lowers at once. "This, now." His voice is hushed as if embarassed. Regretful. "I tried to keep you at bay."

Maybe he is waiting for an answer, but Jaskier doesn't give one. He doesn't even try, and it feels so heavy on his tongue, but he can't. Beause he knows. He knows what Geralt tried to do, he knows what he chose instead. He knows what Geralt needs.

And now, sweet gods, he knows even more. The taste of his kiss. The cracks on his lips, the lines of his jaw, the love in his eyes. The way he touches and the rythm of his breath. And he can't imagine a world in which he doesn't know. A world in which he didn't try.

So he doesn't speak, and only the distant, otherworldly sounds of the street fill his silence.

Geralt looks at him then, and shakes his head. "I never thought you wanted this. It was..." he pauses, a moment, and searches for words inside Jaskier's eyes. In some peculiar way, he always finds them. "You were worlds apart. I never thought you wanted me."

Be the one to hurt, so that you don't end up on the ground. Be the one to leave first.

Jaskier lets out a bretah that sounds like a complaint, and reaches for Geralt's face, warm and fitting inside his hand. Geralt leans into the touch like an ages hungry man afraid to eat too much, lest he cannot take it.

Why would you ever think that, Jaskier wants to say, but he knows the answer. He knew it when he came back.

Instead a smile, faint. "You know what makes a song beautiful, Geralt?" He chuckles at the way Geralt squints, almost playfully, perhaps expecting another one of his musings. But this oen doesn't need many words.

He turns around and reaches for his lute beside the bed, skilled fingers easily finding the strings, and Geralt stares.

"The chords," he continues, "never consist of a single note. Nor a single sound." He proceeds to play two strings, and they sound the same. Geralt can see why they always want him to give lectures in Oxenfurt. Jaskier doesn't take his eyes off him, smile wider. "You must play two or more different notes to ring them. And then you get a memorable melody." He strums the strings, fingers carefully placed, and indeed, a beautiful sound.

Geralt huffs a laugh. "So you're saying we must be pressed to make a nice sound."

Laughter. Jaskier nudges his shoulder and puts the lute on the floor. "Don't be a prick! I know you understand."

He does. Because before Jaskier can properly look at him again, he pulls him into a kiss, deep and warm like syrup, a hand reaching for his nape to keep him close, and Jaskier sighs, and smiles.

Then, a question. A golden stare melting in the setting sun. "What about our song then?" Geralt smirks and watches as the bard rolls his eyes. Fond. "What do you think of it?"

Tune. Press. Strum.

Jaskier's eyes crinkle like lake waves with his smile and he presses another kiss on Geralt's lips, short and blissful.

"I think it's the sweetest song I've ever heard."

[berk-brain-rot]

So Berk posted a video of some poems that never made it into Lazarus Rises and I wanted to talk about my favorite one.

It's this, it's this one.

If you're just here to read the poem, fair, it's amazing and stands on it's own, honestly click the link and read the rest of them, because they're all so good!

If you're here as a fellow-feral-unhinged-raccoon and want to read my honestly unneeded analysis, it's below the cut.

Oh my god. Are you kidding me?? This was a poem that didn't pass the cut??? And it's this good?????? (Once again I feel justified in telling literally every person who spends five minutes in conversation with me about how good of a poet Berk is)

Honestly though, this is one of my favorites of the poems in that video, because it's so short, it's so simply written, and this says so much that I feel like I could write an entire essay on each of the lines themselves and their meanings (I honestly might anyways but I'm not gonna subject you guys to those rambles)

"Life loves Death"

In the same way you can't help but love an impossible task you just want to give up but that at this point is the only company you truly remember and the only thing you know how to work towards.

"Life loves Death"

In the same way we can't help but try and find meaning in beauty in the thing that truly only takes from us, because if there isn't meaning and beauty in our pain, then why the fuck do we have it?

"Life loves Death"

As something we can't take seriously. As something we truly don't understand the risks of until it's too late. As something that for some of us, we rush forward to with joy and open arms because we think it'll feel like the warm embrace of the sun but instead all we are met with is the cold cold ocean.

"Life loves Death"

As a burden, a burden that some claim is a gift. A burden enforced upon us poor poor sinners by a god in punishment. Am I talking about Apollo or Jesus? Both, neither of them, I don't believe in either, but I mean no one believed Cassandra either.

"Life loves Death"

As a needed tool, as a part of every flower we decide to put in a vase, as every dye we put in paint, as every food we are forced to consume and as the tool that at the end of the days ends up changing us.

Also something something, gods punishing poor sinners for wanting to enjoy life something something an apple and a weaving contest being the show of ultimate pride something something I don't have religious trauma you do

Like do you get it???? Do you see how insane this is??? How much information they've packed into six lines???

And I'm not even gonna go over the way Life and Death are capitalized and personified, you all already know how I feel about how impressive it is they do that, but regardless, this poem is amazing and you can pry it out of my coffin-bloodied-cold-dead hands.

As always, the source is always more interesting than anything I have to say, so if you haven't yet, go read Lazarus Rises(amongst other things) and follow them on their Tumblr @icaruspendragon because they write so many cool things beyond just their published book.

[marchsfreakshow]

American Horror Story Masterlist

Tate Langdon:

The Locket With A Masquerade

Clingyness 18+

Sad Goodbyes

Gaming imagine 18+

Kit Walker:

Quiet Boy 18+

My Sweet Girl 18+

Kyle Spencer:

Words Are Overrated

Stubbornness

My Darling Prince 18+

Reading This And That

Innocent Touch

Party Imagine

Painting Rain

Jimmy Darling

Red Is My Favourite Colour

Sculpting Something More

It's A Sin

Riding Imagine

James Patrick March

Memories Fading

Poems - 1 2 3 4

Dangerously Yours

My Sweet Girl 18+

Two Sweet Teeth

Inconsistencies (Part 2)

Clair De Lune

Stay In My Arms

That 80's Song

Heartache In Him

Nightshade

The Stage Is Yours

Opium And Monique Gibeau

Dreary Dreams In A Window

Nicknames And Praise 18+

Loving The Same

Why So Lonely Solitaire?

Need Me More 18+

Bloodthirsty And Lustful 18+

Bdsm imagine

Theatre imagine

Having Their Fill [ft. The Countess]

God imagine 18+ [2]

Gun imagine

Comforting A Murder 18+

Desperate Pain 18+

A Little Piece Of Heaven

Kai Anderson

Obsession Over Control 18+

Kissing imagine

Punishment imagine 18+

Dandy Mott

Never Leave

Seriously, Don't Cry

Can I Sew Into Your Heart?

Princesses Over Princes

Stranger, Lover

Oh The Sleeping Beauty 18+

Loving The Fool

Such A Crybaby! [Seperate M.list]

[rafesdrew]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 so american ·˚ ༘

warnings ! near car crash? few swear words, pogues & kooks are friends! kelce and topper and dicks. um idk what else actually lmk if there’s anything i should add !! could be mistakes it’s too late for this😭

rafe x british!reader AGAIN!

drivin’ on the right-side road

“can i please drive today, rafe!” you excitedly came downstairs wearing your adidas campus instead of your usual heels.

“i don’t feel like dying today, angel!” rafe said in the same excited voice, mocking you.

“oh come on! it will be fun, i promise.” you said now feeling him up in order to get your way.

“fine.” he let out in defeat, connecting your lips and handing you his keys.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“i thought you said this would be fun, y/n?!” rafe said holding onto the door and his seat belt.

“what do you mean? i’m always fu-“

“Y/N YOU’RE ON THE WRONG FUCKING SIDE” rafe screamed cutting you off as a car came, having to turn the wheel towards the correct lane.

“oops?” you let out a laugh at rafe’s terrified face.

“you are never driving again.”

he says i’m pretty wearin’ his clothes

you were getting ready for a beach day with your friends, a weekly occurrence during the summer. you were applying your spf in rafe’s bathroom when he came in grumpily with his bed hair.

“you better get ready before we are late, love.” you laughed at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist nearly falling asleep on your shoulder.

“hmmmm i’m so tired.” he kissed your neck before leaving to his closet.

he came back in 5 minutes later dressed into only swimming trunks and no shirt, but yet holding one.

“you gonna wear this?” he said passing you his white button up shirt for you to wear as a bikini cover knowing that’s what you usually do, still not use to the hot weather after moving.

you immediately put it on after he handed it to you, placing your sunglasses on your head before checking yourself in the mirror for the last time.

“you look so pretty, especially in my clothes. you’re so beautiful angel.” rafe said spinning you around, placing a kiss on your lips.

and he’s got hands that make hell seem cold

watching the sunset on the beach and then spending the rest of your night driving around with your perfect boyfriend in the front seat of his car, listening to the music you wanted, there’s nothing that can make it unenjoyable.

except for when you regret wearing shorts.

rafe noticed the goose bumps on your thighs immediately.

he reached over the middle console and placed his hand on your thigh in an attempt to warm your legs up as well as turning the warm air on.

“how the fuck are your hands so warm?”

feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem i wish i wrote, i wish i wrote

when he laughs at all my jokes

you, rafe, sarah, topper, kelce, jj and pope were sat at dinner at the country club finishing up on your meal.

“so i got card for the meal and cash for the tip.” you said to the server.

well rafe’s card. he refused to let you use your own.

while the server processed the card, you handed them two twenty dollar bills.

“that’s fake by the way” you laughed while the table including the server just started at you.

well except rafe who was giggling.

and he (she) says i’m so american

“i don’t understand rafe. it’s our language, we are correct, it’s a fucking CRISP.” you and rafe were sat on your bed after just coming home from the store with your snacks.

“angel, it’s a chip.” he said laughing, kissing your temple”

“god rafe, why are you so american.”

oh god, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much

you, sarah and kie were in sarah’s living room gossiping about everyone and everything.

“he just makes me so happy, this is seriously the happiest i’ve ever been in my life. baldie really makes me smile” you said laughing and also smiling at the thought of your boyfriend.

rafe stood in the door way of his living room listening to you speak about him with an uncontrollable smile, while also rubbing his head to the use of ‘baldie’.

i’ll go anywhere he goes

“are we going to the party?” you asked rafe needing an answer soon to know if you should start getting ready or not.

“up to you.” he said unbothered, despite it being his best friends party. “i’ll go anywhere you go.” he added.

and he says i’m so american

oh god i’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up

you were laying in bed from your uncontrollable period pain, nothing was working!

when you had to cancel plans on rafe, he was so worried.

he ran to the store immediately, texting sarah and asking her for help.

he chose chocolate, tampons, ice cream, crisps!!!! (chips) and also got you takeout.

when he came into your room holding the goods with a huge smile on his face, you took one look at him before crying.

he placed the things on the floor and immediately rushed over to you.

“what’s wrong baby, is it me?”

hearing him say that made you cry even more.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ marry you, if you keep this up.”

i might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love

you were sat at the beach having a picnic that rafe so kindly set up after you mentioned it one time weeks ago.

you watched him stare out at the sea infront of you, looking so peaceful.

“i think im in love with you.” you said out of no where, even shocking yourself.

“what?”

“what?”

god i’m so boring and i’m so rude

“rafe why don’t you come to a party get high, get bitc-“

“don’t finish that sentence, you know i’m with y/n.” rafe said cutting topper off angrily.

“but she’s so boring!” topped exclaimed.

“and she’s rude, all she ever does is swear.”

“i don’t give a fuck. stop speaking about her, the both of you. don’t even look at her again.” rafe said before storming off.

can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you

“and so like the other day rafe and i, we we-“

“y/n. we have been at this table for two hours, you’ve ate nothing and just talked about rafe.” your mother cut you off leaving you with a frown on your face.

the way you dress and the books you read

you walked into rafe’s backyard to see him laying on a sun lounger, book in hand as he focuses on the words.

he’s wearing a blue and white stripped button up shirt and navy shorts. he smiles as he looks up and stares at you, as you make your way over.

you gave him a big smile and straddled his lap, putting his book mark into his page dropping his book onto the floor.

“my god you look so good.” you said kissing him hard.

i really love my bed, but, man, it’s hard to sleep when he’s with me

after spending what felt like a month in rafe’s house, you both decided to go to your house, and you couldn’t lie, you were excited to get to your own bed.

that night rafe had took all the blanket from you causing you to freeze and unable to sleep.

“rafe i am gonna kill you, please give me blanket.” you said to basically yourself as he spread out, snoring annoyingly and taking even more of the blanket.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

My mind keeps wandering back to that Apollo wedding night one shot and ghhhaaaa it's just so fluffy and cute!!! I'm especially obsessed with the part where it mentions the sun chariot proposal. On that note, could you possibly do a req about said proposal, kinda like a prequel to the first one??? Thx. in advance!!!

Song: To Love Somebody by The Bee Gees

"There's a light, a certain kind of light.." Your feet are on the dash of Apollo's chariot, currently in convertible mood, swaying side to side crossed over each other. You're looking at the village below you with an easy smile, catching the breeze and filling it with lyrics, "That never shone on me.."

Your boyfriend is watching you from the corner of his eye, reveling in the sight of the glow of sunlight that dances across your face gently. You look so comfortable, wrapped in a t-shirt and pj shorts as you lounge happily. You belong here, on top of the world with the sun and the man you love.

"I want my life to be," He joins in with you and your gaze turns to him, mirth growing as he sings, "Lived with you, lived with you.."

You both lean in over the next few lines, lips a shared breath away as your voices light up the space.

"Baby, you don't know what it's like.. to love somebody, to love somebody," His mouth brushes yours as he utters the last words of the chorus, "The way I love you.."

You kiss him, lips syncing immediately as your smile grows on his face. You pull away much too soon for his liking but he lets you because he just can't keep the grin off his face.

"What's that look for?" You giggle.

"You're just so perfect." He says it with awe in his tone. It's true, he's met gods less beautiful, kind, smart, funny, less amazing than you. And soon, he could make you one.

You hum contently before poking him in the arm, "When's the surprise?"

"Paris." And it's in view, a certain structure makes that obvious.

I'm a man, can't you see what I am..

"So... like four seconds then."

I live and I breathe for you..

Apollo pulls up to the Eiffel Tower, and then stops. Midair, your boyfriends parks the sun right above the Eiffel tower.

"Apollo..?" You start to ask, looking over the edge before a chuckle makes you turn back to him. He's standing on his seat and offers you a hand. You take it and stand on the perfect leather butt cushions, watching him with confusion.

Then, his knee hits the seat and suddenly he's kneeling before you with a golden box in his hands. You gasp and immediately think Seriously? I'm in my pajamas! before that thought is erased by him opening the box and reveling the most beautiful stone you've ever seen in your life.

To love somebody, to love somebody...the way I love you..

"Y/n L/n, love of my life, most darling of all mortals and perfect of all souls, will you marry me?"

"Oh god, yes!" You don't give him enough time to slip on the ring before you're tackling him in a hug. He's pinned against the door of the chariot, loud laughter coming from both of you as you drench his shirt in tears.

"I'm the god you said yes to, right?" He jokes and you devolve into giggles.

"Yes, Apollo, you certainly are."

The radio sings one last line and the song fades out.

"Can I put the ring on then?" You push yourself off of him with hands on his chest and nod eagerly.

He pulls it from it's place in the box and gently grabs your hand, sliding the gold and chunky sunstone down your ring finger. Your smile is uncontrollable as you watch your fiancé dote on you, placing lots of kisses on your hand when he's done.

"You know," He tells you as he adjusts its position, having moved from his oral expression of joy, "I had a whole poem I wrote but you looked like you would explode if I hadn't hurried and popped the question."

Suddenly, you gasped. "Oh my gods..." Apollo met your eyes with newfound terror, wondering what he did wrong before a mock punch hit his chest, "YOU PROPOSED TO ME IN MY PAJAMAS!"

"You would've gotten suspicious if I asked you to get ready at four in the morning!" He defended through chuckles. He caught your hand as it raised again, "Besides, you look beautiful no matter what you wear."

You pouted and huffed, "But pajamas? If you dress me in-in Uggs on our wedding day, I will go insane and take you with me."

He nodded very seriously, such a threat could not be taken lightly. "I see why but darling, if I did that, I would've already been insane."

[dandydanthelion]

Hii i love your apprentices :00 can you tell me more about them if you don't mind? Or link me to somewhere where you've talked about them ? :]

oh god i am not good at writing but i'll try my best

i have 3 apprentices and not all of them are equally fleshed out and the ref sheets are old, sorry about that

First up is Zaire! i use him mainly for julian's route (and muriel too sometimes). he grew up as the eldest brother to his 3 siblings. he was the golden child and he never really grew out of his need to be "perfect" and great at everything. so he sometimes overwork himself. his father is a magician, mainly uses his magic in culinary (like mazelinka), and thats where zaire learned his magic from. his mother was a merchant and both of his parents weren't home for much so zaire had to take care of his siblings. and that made him a great cook and an even better caretaker.

he has a journal and has a beautiful way with words so he occasionally write poems here and there. his sense of fashion is anything that is black gold and red, refuses to wear other than those colors. hes quite high maintenance and spends way too much money hoarding jewelleries.

for his overall personality, he could be quite the intimidating one at first glance because he has a resting bitch face but he's actually pretty good at socializing and he's pretty charming once you actually get to talk to him. once you know him well enough, you'll find out that he can be snarky and smug. hes pretty confident in what he does and how he carries himself.

like asra, he mainly uses water magic. his fursona is a wolf (the Alexander archipelago wolf to be exact) and his familiar is a flying fox. this is not in his reference sheet but hes an ENFJ.

heres a lil bonus design i made for julian's reversed ending

next up is Aries!

TW: mentions of SA and abuse!!! (in the indented paragraph)

they were actually my first apprentice back in 2020 and i originally used them for julian's route. tho i basically changed their whole personality from their 2020 version. i love to switch up my apprentices for different routes but aries is mainly for lucio's route for now.

in my previous post of their dynamic with lucio, as much as a shitpost that was, its still pretty much accurate for their personality. they can be quite dense but yk thats okay. they're optimistic and easy-going. everyone assumes theyre a cinnamon roll and could never do anything wrong but theyre that knife cat meme. kinda like asra but more chaotic and just a lil morally grey (be gay do crime). also theyre unhinged when theyre seriously pissed off.

now im gonna talk about heavier topics (that i mentioned in the tw) in this next paragraph.

growing up, they didnt really have the best childhood. when they were a child, they had to witness their adoptive parents fight and it was because of their mother. in their previous life, they had a (supposedly) romantic relationship but their (ex) boyfriend was abusive and aries had a hard time learning that those abusive behaviors werent normal (they did grew up with a mother who was an abusive wife). unfortunately, those abuse led up to SA and much worse.

even in those first 3 years after being resurrected and them not having their memories from their previous life, traces of their insecurities that were caused by their past can still be seen.

they were originally a gardener that also sold their plants, and one magic plant after another is what got them interested in magic. though their magic is actually fire related. their hobby is tailoring and they actually embroidered the flower pattern on their white shirt.

i didn't write it on the ref sheet, but i do intend on making them arospec! lucio (or any other m6, depending on the route u choose) is actually their first love.

their fursona is a rabbit (the lop rabbit to be exact) and their familiar is a draco aka the flying lizard.

i havent drawn their Lucio's upright ending design and their devil design yet but i'll do it... eventually.

and lastly, is dahlia!

now im so sorry for this but i dont use her that often (you can probably tell) because lucio refuses to leave my head and julian doesnt know how to get out so they're both stuck there. i use her for asra, nadia, and portia's route.

i havent really thought much about its bg story but anw here's what i got

out of the three apprentices, dahlia had the best childhood. it used to travel a lot in its early 20s, occasionally performing in taverns. she plays the lute and has a low and beautiful, warm voice which she only uses sometimes because shes shy. she doesnt perform in her first 3 years after being resurrected because of her social anxiety which the whole resurrection and amnesia thing dont help.

it is very smart and quick-witted but oblivious social cues. she keeps accidentally getting herself into trouble which she has no struggle getting out of. in her previous life, she got interested with magic from all of the magicians she met during her travels then she ended up dating one but thats another story. her magic is mainly water related.

her middle name means "full moon" and her moon earrings actually match up with the current phase of the moon. she doesn't really know how to... fashion so she just tends to wear a lot of black. its quite messy and unorganized so basically that combined with asra's messiness is just not good. overall shes very sweet, quite reserved, so easy to fluster gal. shes gremlin coded but has the opposite personality of a gremlin.

i didnt put its mbti there, but its an INFP. both her fursona and her familiar is a rat.

okay i think im done, i hope this isnt too much but

@sasha-is-annoying, tysm for the ask!!

[jadejedi]

Old Queer Love Letters

So, I just reread Red, White, and Royal Blue this week and was reminded of my slight obsession with historical gay love letters. I think there is something so heart-wrenchingly beautiful and devastating about these letters written between these people who so deeply love each other, even in times when they would be persecuted for that love. This is a collection of excerpts from some of my favorites, with sources included. Many of the letters written by men are from Rictor Norton’s “Dear Boy” essays, a collection of essays on love letters between men throughout history, which I highly recommend perusing if you also like to read old gay love letters (links below). All emphasis is my own. 

1779- Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens

“Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that ‘till I bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me.”

816- Yuan Zhen to Bo Juyi

“Other people too have friends that they love; 

But ours was a love such as few friends have known.

You were all my sustenance; it mattered more

To see you daily than to get my morning food.”

1927- Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf

“I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any more by giving myself away like this- But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses. And I don’t really resent it.”

1958- Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky

“‘When I think on thee dear friend/ all loses are restored & sorrows end,’ came over & over in my mind- it’s the end of a Shakespeare Sonnet- he must have been happy in love too. I had never realized that before… 

Write me soon baby, I’ll write you a big long poem I feel as if you were a god that I pray to-

Love, Allen”

1933- Eleanor Roosevelt to Lorena Hickok

“I cannot go to bed tonight without a word to you. I felt a little as though a part of me was leaving tonight. You have grown so much a part of my life that it is empty without you.”

And from a different letter that same year, 

“I miss you greatly dear. The nicest time of day is when I write to you. You have a stormier time than I do but I miss you as much, I think. I couldn’t bear to think of you crying yourself to sleep. Oh! how I wanted to put my arms around you in reality instead of in spirit. I went & kissed your photograph instead & the tears were in my eyes. Please keep most of your heart in Washington as long as I’m here for most of mine is with you!”

1941- Gordon Bowsher to Gilbert Bradley

“For years I had it drummed into me that no love could last for life…

I want you darling seriously to delve into your own mind, and to look for once in to the future. 

Imagine the time when the war is over and we are living together… would it not be better to live on from now on the memory of our life together when it was at its most golden pitch.”

1917- Wilfred Owen to Siegfried Sassoon

“And you have fixed my Life- however short. You did not light me: I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun round you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze.”

Sources below the cut:

Hamilton to Laurens, from the National Archives and Rictor Norton’s My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters through the Centuries

Yuan Zhen to Bo Juyi, from Rictor Norton’s My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters through the Centuries

Sackville-West to Woolf, from The Marginalian

Ginsberg to Orlovsky, from Rictor Norton’s My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters through the Centuries and The Pink News

Roosevelt to Hickok, from Autostraddle.com

Bowsher to Bradley, from the BBC

Owen to Sassoon, from Rictor Norton’s My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters through the Centuries

[brothersonahotelbed]

NICO NICO OH MY GOF HI HI I'VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH im so sorry i just went and disappeared on you like that. went through a really bad time and got sick of my blog (which i honestly have been for a good while) and just decided to wipe everything and be alone for a little. it's so good you should try suddenly disappearing into a fog sometimes I'll just want for you to come back when you've cleared your mind. sorry i miss you a lot and it's so nice to get to talk to you again :). oh here's some poetry from a book i've acquired through ah id say dubious means and ive bookmarked some that reminded me of you and your sea thing. im gonna go through and find some more for you. anyway PLEASE catch me up on things how's everything have you been writing show me show me how are your little silly creatures any new stuff youre insane about any cool things you wanna show me tell me everything man IVE MISSED YOU MWUAHMWUAHMUWHA

enyway these are the poems 👍. ly man

ZEDFER OH MY GOD HI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELLO I MISSED YOU SM!!!!!!!!!!

okay first before anything please please PLEASE don't be sorry for disappearing and retreating into the shadows for a bit. i mean it. you're braver than all of us for knowing when to take a break and even having the guts to deactivate for the betterment of your mental health especially with your posts blowing up and people being annoying and going through shit with your mental health and everything, i'm proud of you for taking that step & happy you did it!!! of course i was worried but i'm glad you're here and i'm glad you were able to do that to help scrape the grime and dirt off <3 seriously. :)

umm how things are going!!! idk nothing much has changed since you've been gone tbh? i just found out my coworkers at the library and i are getting a pay increase because the county loves us soooooooooo much and bc we've been working so hard, so that's cool!! i also finished writing a good omens fic that turned out to be 15 pages long (rip) and it was the first piece of non-poetry writing that i've attempted AND FINISHED in over a year. ACK!!!! im v proud of it :]

ALSO a little bit of tragic news our favorite girl (guitar) vendetta, my beautiful lovely woman, is like. on the fritz for some reason? her channel switch is fizzling out and she's have connection issues with the amp and it's really sad. but!! since my birthday is next month (the 17th), i talked to my parents and they agreed that for my bday present they would help me pay for a NEW GUITAR????. THIS IS THE ONE I HAD MY EYE ON

HE IS SO SO SO BEAUTIFUL I GET HARD WHENEVER I LOOK AT HIM ohhhhmy god

last thing, i watched juno 2007 (Finally!) during your absence AND IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO WATCH IT. elliot page and his little egg self :') idk it made me tear up a little i loved it so much. <3

my cats are as beastly as ever of course. here are some pictures:

anyway. JUNO THOSE POEMS. LIKE ARE YOU FOR REAL RIGHT NOW I AM LOSING IT OVER THE FACT THAT YOU THOUGHT OF ME :'))I NEED TO TATTOO THEM ON MY HEART FOREVER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AAGH. THANK YOU FOR SENDING THEM TO ME<3

we all missed you so much man it hasn't been the same without you here. i love you so much zed so so so much <3333

[daisychainsandbowties]

hi hello 📥 ✏️ 🖊

📥 what's your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

oh that's a tough one... honestly probably ligaments because i really pour my heart into that one. it's written in a very experimental style compared to the the third person POV & more straightforward narratives of my other fics, but it brings me so much joy to write it. and also i mean the comments on that tend to be from other big-time lilith fans & just some of the convos that u and i specifically have had in the comments section of ligaments were so incredible.

ligaments really brings me the most satisfaction when people *get* it, because i put so much of myself in that fic so it's really interesting to see people connect to the same things that matter a lot to me (and not just girls covered in blood but also the way that lilith feels so fiercely towards the world, how it renders her speechless, how love just unravels language and becomes something tender and untameable). yeah that's the one i think.

✏️ do you write every day?

yes! i write to relax so when i'm not working on my thesis i'm probably tucked away somewhere writing. i do still write original fiction (new novel idea crawled out of the primordial ooze this week rip me) and also my poetry, but recently it's been a lot of fic which i've really enjoyed. i don't have a strict schedule for writing or a set amount i have to write every day because my brain takes those kinds of things too seriously, but i tend to write about 1000 words every day, or a full poem which i consider equivalent to about that much (tho, i have been known to write 1k poems. rip my supervisors who are like... hey cas do you think you could write a short poem?)

🖊 post a snippet from a current WIP. has to be ligaments for u kei

ligaments 7

you wonder how it happened. a chaste kiss or something long and deliberate, beatrice lingering her tongue inside another mouth, swallowing each sound as if, that way, God might not hear it.

it is not difficult to imagine. you have after all watched this girl rip a bloody knife from inside a body, holding the blade aloft at a bad angle so the wet followed the pathway of her wrist and raced down her forearm like a tongue. you have watched her flick it off the ends of her fingers, splashing blood up onto her own face and wincing at the warmth.

you have stood with her fully clothed in a shower and scrubbed the various fluids of war out of her hair, feeling each bump in the topography of her skull. you can very easily imagine her pressing her body into another body, gripping brickwork to either side and rocking her hips forward.

but to imagine her without her scars and her silence and her little lips closed around the profanities that belong in her? this, you cannot do.

would she be an arachnologist? growing dusty and grey-haired in a laboratory full of the soft sounds of spider legs tapping on glass, shuffling around in cages. naming each of them in her eccentric way. picking their shed skeletons up out of their cages, totally unafraid.

she could be a physicist, you think, sometimes. when she will not shut up about the Higgs Boson particle, failing utterly to take offense when her papers - printed terribly off the rickety machine in the admin office - call it the God particle.

‘scientists don’t like it either, lilith. the arguments are very funny. either they say that it’s not as important as all that or they say that the beginning had nothing to do with god, so the comparison is irrelevant.’

‘and what do you think?’

‘i think it’s romantic.’ - you choked on your orange juice - ‘it’s an overstatement, certainly. but it’s beautiful. it explains why some particles break symmetry. it’s… it says that what might seem like an aberration is just another piece of what holds the universe together.’

[twelve-kinds-of-trouble]

Uh. Hi. I don’t know why I can’t choose a single thing for an ask game but this one was particularly bad so I. Just.

I chose six. Don’t be mad. Hope it’s okay.

So. 2, 8, 14, 22, 35, 38 for the writing ask game…?

MaD?? I’m over the MOON. I LOVE talking about my writing!!

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

Oh my god fuck no. I’d run out of paper, and I’d have doodles all over Everything, and I’d jump from chapter to chapter. My brain does not like to be patient or linear, so any paper document I’ve handwritten on is,,,,, a bomb site.

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

Literally allll of my WIPs rely on Those Two Things. And as much as I love Love LOVE dialogue, I think there’s something very intimate in silence, especially in scenarios where speech seems fundamental. I could do that, but it wouldn’t be a very long story, nor would it be much good!! bUt. Things written as just dialogue, like… the fuckin… End Poem in Minecraft. They hit. They just? When done right, they’re beautiful. I am.. undecided.

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

Oh my fucking god. I lent my friend a book once. Actually, I lent her THREE books. That was THREE years ago. I got them back in January of THIS. YEAR. Never again. I’m keeping them right here with me. My friends are Terrified to borrow books from me because I’ll eat them alive if they damage them. I’ve seen how they treat their paperbacks, I don’t need mine to get the same treatment.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

I write on Google Docs, but I am Notes app’s biggest fan. I love you, Notes app!!!! I also plan a Lot of fics and stories in random notebooks I have lying around. When I put my mind to it, I can usually create a good list to summarise chapters, and that’s about as organised as it gets, I’m afraid.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

‘dOn’T uSe lOts oF cOmmAs’, bitch?! Dickens did it, and so can I.

‘dOn’t sWiTch pOvS’, no!!! No. Say it with me: different points of view develop the world, the story, and other characters infinitely better than one POV!!!

‘dOn’t uSe toO maNy wOrds’— my WIP, my rules <3

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

Whenever I have little dialogues I want to check make sense, I act them out. Very professionally, mind you, I take this seriously. Either that, or I run through scenes in my head like they’re movies!! 

thank you. sOOO much. I am smiling and screaming and all that.

[the-unseen-servant]

The Falling of the Leaves

"Depravatio Vitae" by Alois Vidius, elven painter.

Composed by Lulica ke Aihwua and translated by Quinn Wilders, graduate of the Empyrean Academy.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: I chose to translate The Falling of the Leaves¹ not because I think it tells a simple, easily translatable story (because frankly, it doesn't), but because when I met its composer, Lulica², spoke to her about the poem's background, and then saw it being performed myself, I was completely and utterly enchanted by it. I wanted to share the sense of wonder I experienced with as many people as I could, and so I decided to do my best to translate it into Common Leonic. I hope (though I seriously doubt) that I was able to do such a poem justice.

A little bit of context: ballads³ from Rellica tend to retell the stories of ancient Rellican myths, and while those myths' plots are expected to be common knowledge, different retellings will show different interpretations and perspectives of them — poetry in Rellica is a culture of iteration and exploration of the same fundamentally understood stories; A striving towards the beauty and divinity of the myths they retell. Now, The Falling of the Leaves is a retelling of the myth of the wind god⁴ Aollica, who is best known for being the creator of winter. Given that winter has a tendency to devastate crops (and is, just generally, an unpopular season), Aollica isn't often a well-liked character. But what drew me to the piece is that The Falling of the Leaves was born out of a desire to resist that portrayal, and so, in Lulica's retelling, Aollica is actually presented as the hero.

The Falling of the Leaves

[Aihwua]⁵ An old woman stood on a ridge in the rain, Looking out as she braced under gusts of the cold. She saw to the east the vast kingdom's domain, And to its south, the Lone Forest⁶ which glistened like gold.

She is Aollica, Gardener of Winds⁷, And she sees before her what what alone saw: A danger which at the old kingdom begins, And that is because she has seen it before.

When she was a child, she happily played, Ha'anele Ruaku⁸, a village, is where she resided. But she grew scared of what to the south swayed: Trees, which grew closer each day, while unguided.

Her family had laughed and said she should be gleeful; The god of the forest was noble and fair⁹! More of his trees would not be any evil. And Aollica, laughed at, felt they did not care.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever lonely; Ever since childhood, distrusted and scorned. No wonder you grew to stay by yourself only, When even your loved ones would leave you ignored. Perhaps if they treated you fair as a kid, You never would need to have done what you did.¹⁰ Still, you had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

[Aihwua] One day the village was changed when she woke; Root, tree, and rock¹¹ had through each building grown. But worst was what came unto the village folk: Aollica found them now frozen as stone.

A voice from behind greeted her in the street. There stood a man, handsome, his skin a bright lime. His chest had been sculpted, his hair short and neat, And from horns on his head there hung silver wind chimes.

He called himself Kone'ehwuica, and spoke with a fervour: He was god of the forest; she should not be scared. He told her that he was not going to hurt her, And he seemed so sincere she was almost ensnared.

He walked up towards her, and tall did he loom, And reached out a hand to Aollica's shoulder. But Aollica bolted! Away from her doom, Away from the village, alone to grow older.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever tortured, But the suff'ring you faced, it would not be in vain. You were only a child, alone, scared, and cornered, When he took it all and let nothing remain. Grief is what had you set out on your deed, How could you know where it one day would lead? You had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

[Aihwua] On that ridge passed decades as Aollica bided, Towns being consumed¹² in an endless attrition. But now it was time, for she had decided, To save the kingdom — her ultimate mission.

The roads were exhausting, but she yet survived, League after league, remaining steadfast. In Kahulehulele Ani¹³, at last she arrived: City of Mirrors, the kingdom's vain heart.

In the hall of the king she arrived after days, And in the throne room, above her, there sat a blonde man. And though he seemed absent as at his mirror he gazed, King Kahio'anica held power in his hand.

Of the danger that choked out his kingdom she spoke, But spoke also of a plan to avoid such a loss: With a great wind she'd vanquish the forest with one stroke, But it may cause great damage in bringing a frost.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever patient; Plain as you brought your proposal to bear. But you could have been kinder with your dry dictation; For you spoke of famine like you didn't care. Your bluntness¹⁴ may've been what tore your plan apart, Or maybe you hadn't a chance from the start. Still you had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

[Aihwua] Only after she spoke did Kahio¹⁵ turn around, And he spoke just so slowly, like he relished the sound. He called her a lying, disgusting, old worm. The forest was beautiful¹⁶ and of no concern.

He claimed that Aollica insulted his name, By suggesting that he was not fitting to rule. "She just wants to make us all starve," he proclaimed. "Let her be banished! Away with the fool!"

So by the arms was Aollica bound. Though she hung her head low, she was silent, inert. Outside the gates, she was thrown to the ground, And they slammed them behind her, now banished, and hurt.

With eyes wet she bit the inside of her mouth. She knew not what do, yet she took a deep breath. Stumbling on, she then stepped to the south, Where the forest then waited, offering death.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever hated; They called you evil and named you a villain. And though you stayed quiet, you deeply frustrated, For you sought to save them yet they would not listen. With the beauty of him all too charmed were those folk, They would not consider a word that you spoke! No, you had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

[Aihwua] Knowing that she could not do this alone, She went between towns asking them for their aid. But every time, away she was thrown, Like when she was a child, laughed and distained,

With every step south hatred's all she could hear, 'Til she stood then before where his forest now grew. Alone, now unable to bite back her tears, She found herself questioning what she should do:

[Bridge]¹⁷ For all but her thought his forest to be harmless! And should she now do it, they all would so hate her. She'd wanted to help, yet they'd think her heartless; "The turncoat who starved us in malice, a traitor".

But if she now turned tail and fled, It is sure that the kingdom the forest would swallow! Every last child by his hand would be dead; Innocent people turned cold and left hollow.

There's naught else to do, she proclaimed to herself! Even if her name would never be mourned, She must give herself up; do all she can to help. So she stood up, determined, To death she was sworn.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever stoic; Despite all your struggles you still persevered. You decided to do what was truly heroic, To sacrifice all yet be never revered. This final choice is all what it came down to, But no-one should blame you for what you had chose. Because you had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

[Aihwua] Lead by mended resolve into that which she dreaded, Through verdant woodlands of people now gone, Aollica knew not where she was now headed, But the path then felt true, and so she pushed on.

Until she stumbled on something familiar, A statue, seemingly made of stone; Looking up at her was a human figure, For she now stood in the ruins of her home.¹⁸

Again a cold voice greeted her from behind, And Aollica turned, saw his face as he smiled. "Hello." he said, his voice sharp in her mind, And she felt like she was once again a scared child.

Though her will wavered, she stood and stayed sure. "Kone'ehwuica," she spoke, and put fist to the sky, "Too many you've hurt; I won't let you hurt more." And around her the leaves rose to flutter and fly.

[Chorus] Oh Aollica, you were ever mighty; With one foul motion, you sundered the forest: Leaves turning red swirled from trees in a blizzard, As Kone'ehwuica looked on in terror, and withered. No man alive has since seen you appear, But the frost you created now echoes each year. Though you had no choice in the crime you committed, You're now remembered forever for it.

Oh Aollica, you were never honoured; Through ages past you were cast as the villain: The wicked demon who murdered a forest, Who brought in the frost and invented a season. You knew what you, through your sacrifice, sold, But how tragic it's been how your story's retold, Because you had no choice in the crime you committed, Yet you're now remembered forever for it.

You're now remembered forever for it.

Footnotes

In Lelo Ekani, it is named "Ke Ha'ule Kaosi", which I've chosen to translate as "The Falling of the Leaves", but which could be validly translated with any form of definiteness or plurality on the word "Leaves". This is actually one of my favourite parts of Lelo Ekani; some may consider it as being a language full of ambiguity, but I prefer to think of it as really being full of intentional vagueness; it's not that saying "Ke Ha'ule Kaosi" is ambiguous, it's that the author doesn't need to be any more specific for you to understand what she's trying to say.

For the record, she gave me permission to refer to her here as "Lula", the informal form of "Lulica". Now, I don't care much for formalities, but I think I will still use "Lulica", if only because I think this version of the name sounds nicer.

The Lelo Ekani term is "melaho ahi" (literally, "fire song"), and "ballad" probably isn't a great translation. Aside from singing, it often also involves acting and dancing as key aspects, and I regret not being able to record that here.

"God" is a misleading term. The Lelo Ekani word is "melua", which just means "myth-people". They're said to be the semi-divine people who existed during the Age of Myth millennia ago, and whose actions still "Echo" to this day.

The square brackets throughout are used to designate which sections of the poem are spoken by the aihwua and which are spoken by the chorus.

In Lelo Ekani, it is called the "Nahele Meha", and it is actually a real forest, found on the south side of Rellica.

Written as "Kiha'apua Makani". "makani" translates plainly as "wind", but "kiha'apua" normally means "farmer". It was, however, clarified to me that in this context "kiha'apua" only means someone who cuts or tends to plants — a gardener.

It felt odd to translate the name of a village, so I've left it as is. However, this leads to the loss of the name's connotations, which I believe are important: "Ha'anele Ruaku" can be broken up into "ha'ani" (gift) + "-ele" (place) + "ruaku" (death). Literally, it means "deathly gift-place", but it may be more accurate to call it "Place of Death-gifts" or "Place of Sacrifice".

The original poem uses the word "pona" here, which conveys a concept that we don't actually have in Leona. It's this dual idea of both moral goodness and physical beauty — but speakers of Lelo Ekani don't view it as if it were a duality, as if it were two separate meanings of the word; it's a single meaning, a single word: "pona", which describes a perfect beauty of both body and spirit.

The poem returns to the idea again and again of "If things had gone differently, this terrible event would never need to have happened", but also seems to suggest that things were inevitable in the first place. This back and forth between fate and fault is a common theme in many pieces of mele ahi, and is one of the things that I, personally, really like about this poem.

To the Leonid audience, it may feel weird to lump in plants and rocks as being of the same domain of divinity. But Rellicans see them both as just being different parts of nature, and so Kone'ehwuica is as much a good of the forest as he is god of the dirt and stone beneath it.

The phrase used in the original poem actually means "to make (something) perfect", but is also associated with the idea of taking control over something in order to improve it. Its closest translation in Leonic is probably "consummate", but I'd like to avoid the modern connotations of that word.

"kahulehulele" is a redoubling of "kahule", which means town, and "ani" can mean either "glass" or "mirror". Kahulehulele Ani is a city that pops up in many Rellican myths — it's the centre of the world in the Age of Myth, so to speak. There's no evidence it was ever a real city, despite how many people have looked for it or its ruins.

In other myths or other retellings of this myth, being cold and ruthless is actually Aollica's primary characterisation. In fact, in more comical poems, Aollica is portrayed with incredibly dry humour.

It is typical to shorten "Kahio'anica" to just "Kahio" as a sly sign of disrespect. The name is actually related to the elvish "Cassius".

Again, the word "pona" is used. It's interesting that throughout the original version of the poem, both (and only) Kone'ehwuica and Kahio'anica are described as having pona. While for Kone'ehwuica this is a normal description, with Kahio'anica it's more typical to describe him as "nari", a word which similarly means beautiful, but in a more frivolous or narcissistic way (I've translated it as "vain").

A "bridge" is a traditional section of a work of mele ahi, and is used to reinforce the most emotionally charged part of the poem. The exact nature of the bridge in a performance depends on the emotion intended to be conveyed by the poem. In the Falling of the Leaves, the music and vocalisation becomes slower, but significantly more intense.

The equivalent of this scene in older retellings is actually the subject of the famous autumnal painting by Alois Vidius (That painting is also my favorite of his works that we have found).

[sweet-child-of-night]

I really didn't want to write you an eulogy because I take these things pretty seriously. Ye eulogy wagerah for the dead and stuff. Don't like it. I'm not very andhvishwaasi, but tujhe bhai bolti hun, toh this is-

Anyway, fingers crossed while I'm writing this. bhagwaan kare tujhe meri umar aur tarakki donon thodi thodi lag jaaein (sharing is caring)

-----

I've called him noc, no objection certificate, Mu. I never expected to him to go away so suddenly, that's for certain, he was so full of love and life.

He loved NBA. This one time he went specs shopping and crushed, well, half crushed on a girl that was wearing a Lakers t-shirt. Unfortunately, well, it was her brother's and she didn't know about Lakers. He was disappointed, mera bhai. We talked about it in dms and he was so disappointed.

He loved writing. Writing those beautiful, intricate poems. Once only he could write, in his own distinctive style. Now that I think about it, his account poetic-child-of-night was one of his favorite side blogs of mine, even more than the main one.

I've known him since his chaotic-child-of-night days, which turned into sweet-child-of-night. Meeting him through tuser Gopikanyari was perhaps one of my best decisions. Although I will admit, one of my first actions on his blog was to check his pronouns and sexuality, solely because I thought at first he was the bf nya told me about. He wasn't, of course.

And oh god, the crush anon. Nuisance. But I don't think noc would want us to talk about those creepy anons on the day that we're remembering him. Remembering our best moments with him.

I think,personally, I've never had as good a rapport with any of my male moots as I did with him. Perhaps it was because the first time I defended him, he went ahead and called me didi (which later when we realised that I was actually younger than him, changed into age main chhoti didi lol) and that immediately made me feel bith safe and responsible for him. Sort of. Being called an older sister in your native language does that to you ig.

And when I realised he was coming to Mumbai! Dear god, I think the only time I was ever that excited was when I realized one of my moots literally lived in the same district as me.

He wanted to enjoy mumbaiyya cuisine, well, street food.

His last days, those posts about him being alone, I wanted to talk to him about it, but I didn't know how to. I miggtve sounded a but too insensitive in the one comment I made, perhaps. I think that would be my greatest regret. I hope he's happy wherever he is and gets reborn as a kitten <333

🪦

in loving memories of

nocturne

2003 - 2022

[desolationblvd]

I wanted to let u know, the one poem u wrote, "CUT OFF YOUR NOSE TO SPITE YOUR FACE" really resonated with me, so much to the point that I keep it in a book filled with poetry n excerpts from literature that I love/found relatable (with credit of course). It's very special to me, n I love it very deeply. Anyways I just wanted to let u know, ur works have always touched a special place in my heart, n I always thought that what u wrote was beautiful, even if the subject matter wasn't something that most consider "beautiful". I always thought that everything you wrote was in some way, because I loved it so therefore it's beautiful. You introduced me to a whole new world of poetry, you're a big inspiration of mine for my own work. The very first poem that I wrote that felt official was sort of modeled after the first one I mentioned. N I also started using the label transsexual because of ur one poem, "THE LORD BLESSES THE TRANSSEXUAL", ur works also led to me to explore myself n my own sense of identity. N I suppose what I'm trying to get at here is Thank You. For everything. You're amazing and your literary works are very touching n relatable to me.

oh my god you have no idea how much this means to me. No idea!!! fucking incredible i love u....i keep reading this over and over and i can hardly even wrap my head around it!! seriously this made me feel so . Something. idk just. wow. even knowing ive done this for one person makes me want to write and keep writing!!! thank you <333

[ashtrayfloors]

Confessions: My Father, Hummingbirds, and Frantz Fanon

Every effort is made to bring the colonised person to admit the inferiority of his culture... —Frantz Fanon

And there are days when storms hover Over my house, their brooding just this side of rage, An open hand about to slap a face. You won't believe me

When I tell you it is not personal. It isn't. It only feels That way because the face is yours. So what if it is the only Face you've got? Listen, a storm will grab the first thing In its path, a Persian cat, a sixth grade boy on his way home From school, an old woman watering her roses, a black Man running down a street (late to a dinner with his wife), A white guy buying cigarettes at the corner store. A storm Will grab a young woman trying to escape her boyfriend, A garbage can, a Mexican busboy with no papers, you. We are all collateral damage for someone's beautiful Ideology, all of us inanimate in the face of the onslaught. My father had the biggest hands I've ever seen. He never Wore a wedding ring. Somehow, it would have looked lost, Misplaced on his thick worker's hands that were, to me, As large as Africa. There have been a good many storms In Africa over the centuries. One was called colonialism (Though I confess to loving Tarzan as a boy).

In my thirties, I read a book by Frantz Fanon. I fell in love With the storms in his book even though they broke My heart and made me want to scream. What good Is screaming? Even a bad actress in a horror flick Can do that. In my twenties, I had fallen in love With the storms in the essays of James Baldwin. They were like perfect poems. His friends called Him Jimmy. People didn't think he was beautiful. Oh God, but he was. He could make a hand that was Slapping you into something that was loving, loving you. He could make rage sound elegant. Have you ever Read "Stranger in the Village?" How would you like To feel like a fucking storm every time someone looked At you?

One time I was At a party. Some guy asked me: What are you, anyway? I downed my beer. Mexican I said. Really he said, Do You play soccer? No I said but I drink Tequila. He smiled At me, That's cool. I smiled back So what are you? What do you think I am he said. An asshole I said. People Hate you when you're right. Especially if you're Mexican. And every time I leave town, I pray that people will stop Repeating You're from El Paso with that same tone Of voice they use when they see a rat running across Their living rooms, interrupting their second glass Of scotch. My father's dead (Though sometimes I wake And swear he has never been more alive—especially when I see him staring back at me as I shave in the morning). Even though I understand something about hating a man I have never really understood the logic of slavery. What do I know? I don't particularly like the idea of cheap Labor. I don't like guns. And I don't even believe White men are superior. Do you? I wanted to be St. Francis. I took this ambition very seriously. Instead I wound up becoming a middle-aged man who dreams Storms where all the animals wind up dead. It scares Me to think I have this dream inside me. Still, I love dogs—even mean ones. I could forgive A dog that bit me. But if a man bit me, that would be Another story. I have made my peace with cats. I am especially in love with hummingbirds (though They're as mean as roosters in a cock fight). Have You ever seen the storms in the eyes of men who Were betting on a cock fight?

Last night, there was hail, thunder, A tornado touching down in the desert—though I was Away and was not a first hand witness. I was in another Place, listening to the waves of the ocean crash against The shore. Sometimes I think the sea is angry. Who Can blame it? There are a million things to be angry About. Have you noticed that some people don't give A damn and just keep on shopping? Doesn't that make you Angry? A storm is like God. You don't have to see it To believe—sometimes you just have to place Your faith in it. When my father walked into a room It felt like that. Like the crashing waves. You know, Like a storm. This is the truth of the matter: I am The son of a storm. Look, every one has to be the son Of something. The thing to do when you are caught In the middle of a storm is to abandon your car, Keep quiet. Pray. Wait. Tell that to the men Who were sleeping on the Arizona when The Japanese dropped their bombs. War is the worst Kind of storm. The truth is I have never met a breathing Human being who did not have at least one scar On his body. Bombs and bullets do more than leave A permanent mark on the skin. I have never liked The expression they were out for blood.

There are days When there are so many storms hovering around My house that I cannot even see the blue in the sky. My father loved the sky. He was trying to memorize The clouds before he died. I confess to being Jealous of the sky.

On Sunday Mornings I picture Frantz Fanon as an old man. He is looking up At the pure African sky. He is trying to imagine how it appeared Before the white men came. I don't want to dream all the dead Animals we have made extinct. I want to dream a sky Full of hummingbirds. I would like to die in such a storm.

—Benjamin Alire Sáenz (x)

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X ARTICLE

Here is the summary of what has been a beautiful day for Jess and Charles and their vow renewal ceremony.

Jess looked gorgeous in a custom gown made specifically for her, it suited her shape and her figure perfectly and she seriously looked like a princess. The arrangement was stunning as she walked down the aisle to one of her husbands songs and their vows were beautiful, Jess speaking from the heart and Charles wrote a poem for his sweetheart.

The couple looked overjoyed to be celebrating their love and their relationship with tier closest friends and family and of course their children who had a fabulous day they looked lovely in their dresses and their suits smiling and laughing running around the estate as they played after the ceremony.

Everything was perfect, from the flowers to the food, to Taylor singing beautiful songs to the drinks and the after party.

We’re so happy for them and we now hear they’re off to the Bahamas for the week with Taylor and Travis, what a luxurious honeymoon!

Comments:

@.landosspacehopper my king and queen

@.spicy1610 Charles can you fight

@.pierrespanda I can’t even comprehend how stunning she looks

@.811016 imagine going on holiday with Taylor

@.lecsainz mum and dad

@.playboyleclec wedding of the year

@.sharlleclerc love love her dress oh my GOD

@.jesscorefan takes notes for my dream wedding

@.lecstappen I’m obsessed

@.Ferraricore wowowowoowow goals

@.leclerccentral she looks like a goddess

@.landopitlane it’s just gorgeous

@.radioleclerc omg

🫶🏻📱

[oedipushansen]

your poem is seriously beautiful man. the framing with the hands, starting with her hands and what they're always doing, leading into the god analogy, the Mary analogy... "how dare you get burned after all she's done to keep you warm?" Is an absolutely killer line. and then ending it with her hands at your face, gouging at your eyes as gently as possible... the oedipus reference "no one can never escape their mothers love". really visceral that's amazing. Sorry i love poetry im so normal about poetry

oh my goodness thank you so so much!!! 💗 im really glad you liked it that means so much thank you thank you 🥹