#little blind

[gabrielokun]

[misanaco]

love is in all the places you forget to look at, and all the places you remember to.

i always believed loving was the act of reciprocation. the kind of love where iron rots away underneath the weight of our molars and we lose six of our teeth to look like the little children from seven years ago. in my head, my friends loved me, which is to say, i loved them. i always believed loving was the act of reciprocation, four years later, when i was no longer eleven and my friends laughed at me until i started to look like i would snitch to the teacher. but i would never. i bite love under my teeth to be a good friend.

and i would always believe love was a damaged bullet. sometimes it took it four years to hit an empty shell.

and richocet.

it took us six months to do away with my feet, where my bones crumbled under the weight of looking at you one by one; and we would stop talking only to meet each other again and fall in love in a boring month. when i told my best friend about it, she thought i seemed too serious for it to be a real thing and we laughed it off as a joke. and three months in you would say you loved me almost too much for it to exist in this world, and because love was an act of reciprocation; my sincerity had gotten to you. i used to believe love was a damaged bullet, and it would almost always crash before hitting the target, which is to say we would never make it but we meant to.

what does it take for a broken arrow to miss its target and return to the archer; i found out broken things never knew to richocet. and i save recordings on my phone until it's out of storage right back from the day you leave and the love is still there. too much of it. i have always been at war with myself since the day you left, and i have been looking for peace only to end up with martyrs, and a doomed hometown.

and then, i associate love with vision; maybe god created me first when he built these eyeballs, and i look at you down to the folds of skin underneath yours. and then, loving is the act of looking.

maybe as much as i long to see you again, i also dread it; because i would eat away my tongue for the loss of language. maybe i would simply look at you then. and love is the act of looking. maybe love is not reciprocation because i did not stop loving you long after you left too, and i am looking at you constantly and there is just about enough love in this world. i think the thing about love is that it comes in places where it is useless. maybe that is why i am the only one looking.

because if you looked back, we could make so much use out of it.

two weeks into being heartbroken over our breakup, my mother would say God is everywhere, with so much conviction in her words that i almost end up looking at God, with my hands in my lap - useless and empty, and wondering how to catch him. a week later i would walk upto her and ask her where that is and she would look at me in disbelief as if i could not see something so obvious for myself - but to see, you must first love. she would then drag me out of the house and tell me the sky is blue over houses where children starve to death and become orphans, their mothers constantly begging god to fix their cursed fate, and she tells me if they looked up, they would realise there is so much life in them. and the act of looking is as useless as the act of loving - because the two are the same - because you could just choose where to lay your eyes.

maybe you would be crying and your eyes would be fixed at the turn of the wall of the room, your knees bent at the floor like the world were crumbling and then, you would just be looking. maybe you could see the weeds blooming out of the iron odour of filthy blood. she would say love is in every place you forget to look at, and in every place you remember to. she means to talk about God, but everytime she talks of religion it is almost hard to not talk about love.

i also wonder if love is also as omnipresent as God, and why the two are so hard to find. and then i wake up at 6am but there is the crisp odour of burnt charcoal and a little, little sound of death, and i almost feel nice because everyone is just sleeping soundly beside each other - before i realise how fucked everything is. maybe death is such a curse because there is love. maybe we are scared of war more for this love than the dead bodies. and then, you.

maybe i am still alive even though you do not love me back, and the weight of this love is almost making me uglier, but i am glad i love you like this. i am glad i am looking for god in everything you left behind that you deemed useless, and in the soil that i chew so i can do away with the sound of war, and in the trees and in 6am, everywhere. which is to say i am glad i am looking for love everywhere. and loving is the act of looking. i believe i have almost never realised how there is so much i could take for myself, and be the lover of- because loving is the act of looking. and as long as i can deem myself the lover of everything, they could take away my eyeballs too - and i would still find god at the tips of your fingertips. they are almost too heavenly, too gorgeous and there are heartbeats in my throat. maybe i could survive this apocalypse for you. maybe loving is not the act of reciprocation like i used to think. it's vision.

and i am glad you could almost never take away my vision. and love is in all the places you forgot to look at, and all the places you remembered to. maybe love is not inside me and i am inside love, and my mother is tugging at my sleeves and pushing me to look at the photograph she received of me before she went through the labor of giving birth to me. and she says i look like her before placing her lips at the top of my forehead (she looks like the last person to like herself). and she is placing a photograph into my palms of my father holding me almost too tender and i realise i am not so damaged - after losing you. maybe he has always held me this tender, even when he makes me cry. and i despise cruelty, but i see mother laughing her flesh out - heartily - looking at the old sd card she looks almost too happy about finding while cleaning the house. look.

sd card. no memory of you. and i almost feel blind.

[lurkinginnernarrator]

POV: you are playing poker. you're to the left of the dealer.

You keep on calling it 'little blind' instead of 'small blind'.

thanks xue yang

[faeratil]

A-Qing “Little Blind”

The Untamed

Please don’t repost

Reblogs appreciated ❤️

[halfsixwakeup]

Edit: The two updated versions got lost in the reblogs, and people keep asking for characters, so I'm editing the original post now.

Also, after playing In Stars and Time, I have realised Siffrin isn't really voiceless in the way I meant, and people have said Six and especially Mono shouldn't count, but consider: it's my gender and I get to choose the blorbo

[companionquest]

Top Ten Cullen Rutherford Blunders

[blood-sand-supernova]

This came to me five seconds before I fell asleep. Now I cast EMOTIONAL DAMAGE.

Also:

Imagine being normal

[zorangezest]

thanks for listening

[molinaesque]

"He dips out... the whole world flips over."

[katherine-smith-xo]

i think it’s important to spread awareness of flawed scientific practices. date your lineage findings, people! this is how mistakes are made

[jojo-schmo]

In this house, we cherish Helpy. We thank him for his hard work and pat his head and give him all the candy that he wants because is a good and lovable little cub!!

[gabrielokun]

[homkamiro]

HEY DID YOU KNOW YOUR ART IS EXCELLENT AND YOUR LINEWORK IS STUNNING AND YOUR EXPRESSIONS ARE PEAK

HELLO??? AM I REAL IS THIS REAL??? THETRIGGEREDHAPPY IN MY ASK???????? I💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

dude i am SUCH a fan of your works you have NO idea, like I think if I hadn't read running blind that day i wouldn't be so fixated on speeding bullet right now. I reread nearly ALL of your fanfictions and I recommend you to every one of my friends. And seeing you here praising my art is just😭💥i need a minute

In a gratitude making a small comic based on that one moment from Little Things🗣️🗣️your dialogue writing is one of the best I've seen in YEARS and ngl I do plan someday making an animatic based on one of your fics perhaps...someday....and only if you're okay with that.....

[potato-lord-but-not]

obligatory Oscar post 🫶🫶

[twilightkitkat]

Really stupid idea but can you imagine if the TVA swore Wade and Logan to secrecy and then they come back and everyone is so incredibly confused. Like? Wade, what the fuck? Who is Logan and why is he living with you and why does he look like a dead superhero?

Especially with the insinuation that the entire movie timeline spanned over a few days. So Wade goes from hopelessly pining after his ex to bringing home this buff, hairy, muscular guy to live with him without warning after disappearing from his birthday party.

Like he just randomly walked out the door after blowing out the candles, then he mysteriously reemerged with this feral look-don't-touch beast of a man. And he's calling him stupid pet names like "peanut" and "babygirl" and the guy isn't biting his head off?

When asked, Wade just responds that Logan was his best birthday gift ever. Logan's ears turn pink and he covers his mouth to hide the small smile on his face. Wade wraps an arm around his shoulder and grins. Meanwhile, everyone thinks Wade left his own party because of a hook-up call that somehow ended with him landing himself a boyfriend.

[echollama]

Lantern Rite 2024 doodles!

This year's event hit a bit close to home for me personally, and I loved it🥰🥰🥰