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egophiliac · 10 months

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Have you heard of the "Crowley is Malleus' dad" theory going around? Where Prince Levan (or whatever his name is) didn't actually die and just went out to get some milk and is now known as Dire Crowley, the silly man? The implications of that theory is absolutely hilarious when you think about it

hold on, we can figure this out, we just need LISTS

PROS THAT CROWLEY IS SECRETLY REVAAN/LEVAN/LAVERNE/WHATEVER:

unspecified fae of some kind, with similar coloring to Mal

the animal masks are apparently a Briar Valley thing

has some kind of big blackmailable secret that was alluded to in episode 4, and then as far as I know never brought up again

(unless this was just Azul bullshitting, which is extremely possible)

based on Diablo, which...maybe means something?

has canonically worn Dad Shorts

CONS:

(gestures to Crowley's entire personality)

NO LISTEN Revaan was the guy they sent off on diplomatic missions and to take care of delicate political situations, and...look, I love this dweeb, but would you trust Crowley to be in charge of negotiating your war treaties

despite my brain insisting on reading his name as "Raven", Revaan's title does imply that he was also a dragon (or super into longan berries, I'm not ruling that out)

currently unclear why Lilia "my closest friend Revaan...he is no longer with us...I used to make fun of him for being kind of a priss about eating jerky..." Vanrouge has somehow not noticed or said anything

Malleus' Aloof Anime ~Aristocrat~ vibe had to come from somewhere, and by all accounts it was NOT his mom's side of the family

???:

turns into a bird in the opening, I don't know if that means anything but it's kinda cool, I guess

all that aside, if Malleus and Yuu are any indication, then the Draconias have...questionable taste in their social choices. so anything is possible!

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #disclaimer that this is half joke and half speculation so like. please take it in good spirits and don't yell at me #right now i'm leaning away from crowley being revaan because i think the evidence is currently circumstantial at best #but who knows what the future will bring!#man. whenever i consciously remember that crowley is diablo it also reminds me #that his name is supposed to be pronounced like dear and not like the word dire #which always fucks me up a little bit. this is the worst thing about him bar none.#damnit crowley #anyway every time a new part comes out i rewatch the opening just in case there turns out to be any more foreshadowing #(there never is)#(but that ONE really quick bit where you can see overblot azul means i always have to look)#which is to say i have been carefully reanalyzing all the crowley bits and i have reached the conclusion #that i still have no idea what is going on with him #he may be the world's biggest mastermind or the world's biggest idiot and these are not mutually exclusive #(this is a strictly pro-crowley post btw)#(i'm allowed to make fun of him because i love him dire-ly)

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noodles-and-tea · 2 months

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hi !!! i’ve been following you on twitter and tiktok for ages (since luca) and have loved every single fandom you’ve transitioned through since then - your art is just amazing

but i cannot lie as a hardcore merlin fan seeing that you’ve entered this space after sherlock truly made me do a little dance with glee !! you drew them brilliantly and i can’t wait to see more if you happen to draw more of them !!

keep up the amazing work !! 💕💕

Oh thank you so much!!!!!

#genuinely getting emotional over here #thank you so much for the kind words??#your support means the world to me- genuinely #also do not fret there will definitely be more Merlin to come!!!#my art #ask #Merlin #bbc Merlin

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and-corn · 5 days

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I hope you are aware that your existence sparks joy.

i will protect that spark with my life

#your kind words mean the world to me #tbh I’ve been feeling pretty lousy lately and messages like these really turn my day around you have no idea #crying happy tears for a change lol

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gentlebeard · 1 month

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If I could hold you for a minute, Darling, I’d go through it again

For @edsbacktattoo & @stedesearring 💕 Show: Our Flag Means Death - Season 1 & 2 Music: Francesca by Hozier YouTube

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #edward teach #ofmdedit #ofmdaily #ofmd source #ofmd fanvid #ofmd s2 #ofmd edit #blackbonnet #ella’s edit #HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMS ❤️#AND A BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAITLIN ❤️#i'm killing two (impossible) birds with one stone by dedictating this video to both of you absolute angels!!#jams i love you so much. you're so incredibly talented and hilarious and kind and amazing. i'm so grateful for you.#if you didn't live halfway around the world i would come over and give you the biggest and warmest hug #thank you for letting me scream in your dms all the time. whether it's about our pirate boys or your writing or cancellation hell™️#and just THANK YOU for being such a wonderful presence in my life #oh and kaitlin. lovely sweet kind kaitlin. the one we all love to call a human ray of sunshine because you're just THAT lovely #your little yellow hearts in the tags brighten my day every time i see them. whenever i talk to you you're just so sweet #thanks for every single lovely word. for every music rec. for every sweet message or ask. what a gift you are. ily!!!#speaking of gifts: i couldn't think of a more perfect song for the two of you than francesca #so i hope you like my little creation that i've put together. once again shoutout to #evil gang 😈

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lesbaurinkos · 2 months

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i dont think people on this website who think of riverdale as, like, Straight Media understand that a) the magic and genius of it comes from the mind of one of our society's foremost homosexuals roberto aguirre-sacasa himself and b) i once tried to make a list of all the gay characters in rvd with speaking roles and gave up once i hit like 40 bc that was the point in the 50s timeline archie's homophobic uncle who was calling him gay for writing poetry (there was also the fact archie and reggie were having mutual onscreen bisexual awakenings about each other after watching gay porn together but thats like, less gay than the writing poetry thing) anyway archies homophobic uncle started fucking gay kevin's cop dad. luckily the two of them were killed by betty's gay serial killer brother-in-law chic (not to be confused with her gay serial killer BROTHER charles, who chic married in a beautiful gay serial killer wedding in the normal timeline) (do you even understand core four polycule was quite literally canon at the end of the day? do you know that?) (do you know that cheryl blossom is not just the best lesbian but the best CHARACTER who has ever existed in the history of all media and you could not in fact ever handle her? c) they dont even know about archies weird fantasy. so whats the point

#by the end of the shows run it was literally on a mission to make a new character gay each week idk like it was crazy..... u know nothing #riverdale is Not straight people media it is literally the world's number one example of camp..... u people know nothing.....#how fake camp enjoyers look when REAL camp comes at them idk!! this is a site of FAKERS #if u cant enjoy the cults and gangs and the aliens and the endless timelines and timeloops and evil d&d where's your FUN. your ADVENTURE.#go watch Actually Entertaining Television for once in your life...... go watch some riverdale and get back to me. get some WHIMSY i mean it #there is quite licherally no experience more fun. it's cinema. it's television. it's a blast. it literally has cheryl blossom.#at the end of the day as always to be a riverdale enjoyer is to be a modern day cassandra... they do not listen to our words... but we know #we know the truth of this world. and the truth is camp.

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taizi · 2 months

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gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok 🙄#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

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blitheringmcgonagall · 4 months

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Canon James Potter on hearing his name is linked to two ships in ao3’s top 20 ships for 2023 (no 8 and no 18):

Canon James Potter on hearing the most popular of the two is him & Sirius’ Deater baby brother Reggie:

#lol I’ve nothing against Jegulus #but I think canon James would be shook 🤣🤣🤣!#he’d be all listen #I had world saving sex #of course I’m mentioned twice in the top 20 list #😏😉😇#*preening* *strutting* *fussing with his hair* *repeatedly throwing and catching a stolen snitch*#WAIT WHAT ????!!#😱😬🧐😳#regulus??? as in Reggie I joined the Deaters at 18 and had a collage of Voldy on my bedroom wall Reggie?!?#*backs slowly out of the room*#*watching Sirius’ face*#*muttering expletives and words such as what the ever living fuck #*how did this happen??*#*more importantly why did this happen?*#*you’ll have to ask him I refuse to incriminate myself*#also *WHAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!*#Sirius Black: YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU ENDED UP HAVING SEX WITH MY BABY BROTHER???? THE LESS ATTRACTIVE BLACK BROTHER??????!!!!!!!!!!#Reggie? the less good looking bro???#surely to fuck if you were going to fuck one of us it’s have to be me Merlin damn it man!!!!!#the Deaters are the Death Eaters (you had to be there #(involves the scarlet pimpernel)

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pzyii · 11 months

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There's so much I could say about Cynthia's coming out scene

From the small differences in their reaction between each question

Or the way Cynthia's mood immediately changes when Nancy mentions the play

To the way their hands are still dirty from working on the car for some reason I can't explain feels like a giant gut punch

Or the little short breath nancy take when she reads the note, how her hand shake a little

Or the way Cynthia curls up a little more in fear of what Nancys gonna say

Or the way Cynthia almost seems dissociated while Nancy reads the note, not really in the room anymore, probably too terrified of what's gonna happen to bear to witness it

Or the fact that Nancy knows Cynthia so well she said the perfect thing, that she either said something to make cynthia laugh, or the laugh was just one of relief bc Cynthia wouldn't have to lose one of her best friends

#might ecpand on this in gve future #can yall tell theu mean the world to me #its like #impossible to word #what they make me feel #hungover duo #cynthia and nancy #(platonically oBVIOSULY but might aswelltag it as that too)#cynthia zdunowski #nancy nakagawa #grease rise of the pink ladies #grease rotpl #rotpl #rise of the pink ladies #rotpl spoilers #pzyii rants #edit: dissociation or shutdown #it can be either

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lumibye · 7 days

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⸻ helloo , it might be my birthday todayy 🎉

i don't really have much to say as i've never been the biggest fan of my birthday but i get to celebrate with him so yayy 🫶 🩵 💙

art : ai.itaii - ( vgen )

#⊱ 𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 ⊰#⊱ gallery ⊰#ramble :#thank you soso much for all the sweet words and asks they mean the absolute world and more to me 🩵#i cherish them all so much ty forever for making my day so v special 🥺🩵#⸻#pokemon self insert #pokemon self ship #selfship art #self ship art #yumejoshi #self ship

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hremails-art · 5 months

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your drawings are so adorable i love your style, can you draw something cute with hater n peepers? :)

hey thank you!!! i already had some lineless peepers drawings so here's hater and peepers doing make up

#doodles #2023 #anon #request #wander over yonder #commander peepers #lord hater #i really appreciate the kind words <3333333 it means the world to me

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fagnumopus · 2 months

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"Omg Lolita is SUCH an awful book bc the narrator is OBVIOUSLY so CHARMING so you'll SYMPATHIZE with him"

Humbert Humbert on the first page: "Your Honour, my defence is that I'm being crucified for my sins which literally makes me Jesus Christ"

#elliot speaks #obviously not his exact words but #this is literally what he means but more eloquently #lolita by vladimir nabokov #i got to the part where he calls himself a “nympholept” and it made me flash dissociate to a world where this man existed to kick his balls

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chiefnooniensingh · 9 months

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Erica Ortegas: Christine's #1 fan

STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS 2x09 Subspace Rhapsody

#snwedit #trekedit #startrek #strange new worlds #startreksnw #snw #star trek strange new worlds #erica ortegas #christine chapel #joseph m'benga #star trek snw #trekdaily #startrekuniverse #startrekdaily #lilysedits #userchapel #i know she means spock #but her words combined with her face has me 100% sure it's erica who's gonna miss her #startrekladies

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six-white-venus · 3 months

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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.”

#vi is back on their dysfuctionally healthy familial love agenda again #it's like. that one quote #love is a doing word #everything stems from love. everything gets its meaning because they are all doing words #maybe it's the way we've all benn raised/fucked over by the world but #saying sorry feels so.... wrong. hollow. it's simply not enough #i've grown up feeling like nothing i do is enough and that also travels to my way of apologising #we are all damaged in one way or another but we are all capable of so much love #and that's what my family and friends have taught me #it's okay if you're messed up and have no idea how to be a functional person. it's okay to screw up. we can sit and fix it #together #my writing #prose poetry #love #words #writeblr #prose #familial love #love languages #anger

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