#eternal growth is just a bullshit concept

[the-rainbow-of-doom]

The new photoshop AI picture generator sure is special. I asked for Karl Marx with a molotov cocktail but instead got a Bureaucrat with a Bloody Mary.

#photoshop #ai generated #mine #(if ''mine'' is even a term i can use here. but i just need it for my tagging system) #-sigh- and here we go‚ losing another fun aspect of working as a graphic designer to ai and use the saving of time to... #... -checks notes- work even more in the same time :') #I'd appreciate tools to generate backgrounds and such much more if it was used to give us more free time #but no.. instead we now have to work ourselves to burnout instead. it's frustrating. #ease and/or fun tasks are taken away by technology and the tasks that are so exhausting and require much concentration increase #don't get me wrong. i do love some complicated tasks that put my brain to its limits. if it's then followed by going home or simple tasks #but no it's now two or three of the hard tasks after another‚ five days a week. #fuck capitalism #eternal growth is just a bullshit concept

[quickspinner]

Triple Threat

Here it is, the 500 followers special, posted hot off the presses as promised because not only did I hit 500 followers before the poll even closed, I’m now at 520! My mind is blown. Thank you all for sticking around this little corner of the lukanette trash heap and especially for all your replies/comments/reblogs, I covet every single one. 

So you guys voted and you wanted to see Multimouse flirting with Viperion, and Marinette flirting with Viperion was a very close runner up, so I decided to do both, and I threw in a little Viperbug flirting for you just because I love you. So I hope you enjoy, and extra love to @livrever for giving me a sanity check when I needed it because y’all, I love you so much I wrote an akuma for you and even though most of the battle happened off-screen I still wasn’t sure whether the whole thing would hang together or not. 

I hate long author’s notes and this one is already wordy, but I just want to say again, thank you for being here and I appreciate all 520 of you that are here now and everyone who stumbles on this in the future. 

“Stupid Chat,” Ladybug muttered to herself between swings. “Stupid, overprotective Chat, making everything more complicated than it needs to be because of this stupid identity bullshit again and why am I still keeping up this ridiculousness now that Master Fu’s gone I have no idea…” 

She ought to be grateful, she knew. Later, she would be touched by Chat’s affection and protectiveness towards her civilian self, but right now it was just a pain in her red-and-black spotted ass. Fortunately, the akuma knew her name but not much else about her, which meant Chat was able to fool it into following him on a wild goose chase to buy Ladybug time to get help that they didn’t actually need but whatever. 

But it was fine. This was fine. She had a plan. In the three years that she’d been Ladybug she’d gotten very good at thinking on her feet. She tried not to call on Viperion too often, because it seemed like a bad idea to muck around with time too much, but the fact was, his power was both incredibly useful and incredibly reassuring for her. 

And, either because Luka was older or perhaps because he was simply more mature than the rest of the team, he’d been the first to push his powers past his original time limit, and he still had the longest time limit on the team, though he wasn’t anywhere near the unlimited time that supposedly came with being “an adult.” Marinette had questioned Tikki about that, whether it was a question of physical maturity or mental maturity or both, but it turned out that questioning a being as old as Tikki about the minutiae of human growth was...frustrating. Tikki’s concept of time was colored by her nearly-eternal perspective, and the markers of adulthood changed and shifted over the centuries.

In any case, second chances were all too scarce in her life and it was only the knowledge that all magic had a price and the fear that there had to be a catch somewhere kept her from calling on it more frequently. 

Seeing the Captain and Juleka both on deck, Ladybug crouched on the bank and squinted. It looked like Juleka and Luka’s room was empty, so she should be able to just slip through the porthole if she timed it right.  

Well, regardless of whatever method the Miraculous used to measure adultness, Marinette thought as she made her way through the porthole with some Miraculous-aided acrobatics, Luka had matured in the three years they’d known each other both mentally, and...and physically...oh dear. Ladybug gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, which did absolutely nothing to salvage the situation, since her eyes were still wide and staring.

Luka was standing in the doorway in his boxers, hair dripping into the towel around his shoulders, a faint blush growing on his face. “Ladybug. I wasn’t expecting you. Obviously.” 

Ladybug yelped and turned her back, this time slapping her hands over her eyes, though too late to do either of them any good. “I’m sorry!” Ladybug cried. “I just—your family was on  deck and I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in and the room was empty so I thought I could just—but I didn’t expect you to—“‘

“It’s fine,” Luka chuckled weakly, and she could hear him moving around behind her. “Nothing you wouldn’t see at the beach. Living in a house full of girls I don’t actually make it a practice to run around naked. You can look now.” 

“Good. Sound policy,” Ladybug managed, like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. She dropped her hands and turned around and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep in another scream. He had his jeans on now but he was still digging through a pile of shirts on the end of his bed and she was staring at his bare back. Which wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, really, but only when she was prepared and had Alya to smack her if she started...staring. Not ogling. Definitely not. 

“I’m assuming you need me for something?” he prompted, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Yes! Uh…” Ladybug shook herself back to reality and outlined the situation. How there had been a big design contest this week and one of the losers was taking it badly and had it out for the winner, a girl named—

“Marinette?” Luka turned to look at her sharply, now fully clothed (which, it turned out, helped less than it should have since knowing what he looked like under the shirt made her more than able to trace the lines his body made in it NOT THAT SHE WAS OH GOD) “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah, yes,” Ladybug said, surprised enough to be shocked out of her absolutely-not-ogling. “You, um...know her?” 

“Yes, of course I do. If Marinette’s in trouble, I’ll do anything you need,” Luka declared, a fire in his eyes that almost made her step back. Ladybug paused and studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Can you do this, Luka?” Ladybug asked, folding her arms. “The last thing I need is to suddenly be facing an akumatized Viperion with time reset powers. I know you guys are friends but if you’re more than that I need to know now.” What was she doing? It was a good thing she was still blushing from earlier. Why was she asking this, she knew he was over her, she was like a little sister to him and—wait, was he blushing? 

Luka looked away, but she was sure she saw red in his face. “We’re just friends,” he said softly. “Even if I sometimes wish we were more.” He glanced at her, and his blush deepened as he dropped his eyes again. “Maybe more than sometimes. I can do this, Ladybug. I won’t let my feelings for Marinette interfere. I promise.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping a lid on it.” 

“Oh,” Ladybug blinked. “I see.” She...wasn’t as surprised as she should be. Luka had never really made a secret of his feelings, but even if she hadn’t quite believed herself every time she told herself he was over her, she hadn’t expected him to be so...passionate about it. Especially after all this time. Especially after everything that had happened. “Well—well okay, if you think you can do this then I trust you.” She held out the box. 

Luka took the bracelet, greeted Sass briefly and transformed as Ladybug continued her instructions.

“I wanted to just hide Marinette but Chat thinks she needs more protection. He’s distracting the akuma now. You pick Marinette up at her home and keep her with you. Obviously, you’ll use Second Chance to keep her safe, but it might also take a few tries for Rena to get the illusion right, so you’ll also need to be in position to observe and report.” She couldn’t help a smile, feeling a rush of affection as the familiar green eyes blinked back at her. “I trust your judgement, so I’m not going to micromanage you; figure out what works and do it. Here’s the catch, though.” She folded her arms. “I won’t be there. I can’t explain to you why. Once the akuma’s focus is off Marinette, take her home, and proceed to Phase Two.” She continued giving him instructions and he listened attentively, asking only a few questions. 

Luka nodded as she finished. “I won’t let you down,” he said firmly. 

“You never have,” Ladybug smiled, and Luka looked...flattered? Almost shy. And that was kind of weird. Luka was reserved, sure, but never shy.

People did seem to find Ladybug intimidating, though. And it was kind of...cute. “You know,” she found herself saying as she strolled closer to him. “I think this Marinette girl’s awfully lucky to have caught your eye. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help. I know I do.” Ladybug gave him a slow smile. She reached up and touched his mask with two fingers. Viperion’s eyes widened slightly. “I think I prefer blue eyes to green though.” 

“Me too,” he said almost absently, searching her face, and she thought she saw a hint of color just below the line of his mask. That made her smile wider. 

“It’s a bit of a complicated plan today, but I think you can handle it. Good luck.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and before Luka could react, she dove out of the porthole, yo-yo catching just in time to send her skimming away above the water. 

Luka—Viperion, now—swallowed hard, swaying slightly in place. Because it was a plain fact that Ladybug was hot, as well as strong, smart as a whip, and tough as nails. All things that very much appealed to him, even if his heart was still given elsewhere, and he...didn’t quite know what to do with the last few minutes.

Viperion shook himself. He had more important things to worry about. 

...Starting with how to leave the boat without being seen by his family. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ladybug had caught him off guard this morning, and between having just woken up and running into Ladybug in his underwear—not to mention whatever that was just now—he was feeling a little off balance. It should have occurred to him to wait until he was off the boat to transform. 

Well, he’d figure something out. It sounded like his job was simple enough. He wasn’t super happy about having Marinette actually at the battle site, but he could see Chat’s point; it was the only way they knew she was absolutely protected and the akuma couldn’t pull a double-fake on them to come back for her. It had happened before. Hanging back with him, Marinette would be as protected as possible, out of sight of the villain to keep her from accidentally interfering with Rena’s illusion, with Second Chance as a backup if something went wrong.

Somehow, he just had to try and not be too Luka around Marinette. Best to keep things chill and aloof if he could, he supposed. 

Viperion could see her on her balcony as he approached, that would help. His last leap took him soaring in a flip to land on her balcony railing with a bit more show than was probably necessary. 

“Marinette?” he smiled. “Nice to meet you. Ladybug told you to expect me, I hope?”

“Wow,” Marinette breathed, blinking up at him. “She said she was sending someone but not who. You’re...you’re Viperion, right?” Her big blue eyes were round in her face. “You’re like—the most mysterious of all the heroes. You’re hardly ever on the Ladyblog.” 

“Not mysterious, just...quiet,” Viperion smiled with a shrug, feeling a little warm suddenly beneath his mask as he hopped off the rail. “I’m not really a front line fighter like Chat. I do my best work behind the scenes.”  

“Really? But you’re so strong—” Marinette’s eyes traveled down his body, rather blatantly checking him out. “Wow,” she breathed. “I thought the suit was just armored, but that’s actually you.” 

Viperion shifted a little uncomfortably under her gaze. Not that he minded, just...it was Marinette and she’d never looked at him like that before and...he kinda liked it.

Okay, he really liked it. 

But Ladybug was counting on him to be professional. 

Viperion cleared his throat. “Did Ladybug brief you on the plan?” 

Marinette nodded, still studying him though her expression turned serious. “Yes. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue and follow any orders you give.”

Viperion nodded. “We’ll be out of the main battle so you shouldn’t be in any danger, but that last part is really important. You’re a smart girl though so I’m not worried.” Much. He offered her a hand. “We should go so we’re in place before Chat gets there.” 

Marinette met his eyes and—shit, there went his traitor heart, suddenly galloping a mile a minute. Help me out here, Sass, he thought desperately, but his pulse continued to pound as Marinette put her hand in his and smiled up at him. Shyly, but also...mischievously? Her lips twitched just slightly, like they wanted to twist in a smirk, and crap why was he even looking at her lips, look away, Luka. 

If she smirked at him now he’d never be able to keep his cool. 

Taking a deep breath and hoping against hope that he wasn’t blushing too obviously, he tugged her closer to him and dropped her hand to put his on her back. “May I?” he asked, and when she nodded he lifted Marinette in his arms and settled her close against him, making sure he had a firm grip. She put one arm around his neck but ran her other hand across his chest, firm enough for him to feel the pressure even through the suit. His breath caught as she exclaimed “Cool! The material’s so different from Chat’s. Neat texture.” Her tone turned flirtatious. “Fits you really well too.” 

“Ah—” He couldn’t think.  

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at him and looking not sorry at all. “I’m a fashion designer. You’re—inspiring.” She used the arm around his neck to pull herself up to look in his face, and he had to adjust his grip quickly. “I have to tell you I love your mask.” And there was the smirk, even more devastating at close range as she ran her fingertips along the bottom of his mask. 

Viperion felt dizzy as she settled back again with a cheerful, “Ready when you are!” 

***

She wouldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the lines of his suit where the different materials met, outlining the yellow diamond on his chest with one finger, not-so-subtly feeling up his arm…

Chill and aloof was obviously not going to be an option, he admitted to himself. He needed a new plan.

When her fingers traced his collar, actually brushed his skin at the hollow of his throat, he stumbled and nearly dropped her, landing hard on his knees.

“Are you okay?” she gasped, snatching her hand back guiltily. 

“I’m fine.” Viperion sighed and set her down, getting to his feet and brushing off his knees before turning to face her, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say without hurting her feelings. 

He thought he understood what was going on. Marinette was always under a huge amount of stress. Pretty as she was, she didn’t get out much, and probably didn’t get to do a lot of flirting. She wouldn’t flirt with him—Luka him—because she knew he had feelings for her and she worried about leading him on. She couldn’t flirt with Adrien, partly because he was dating her friend and largely because she could still barely speak a coherent word to him.

As Viperion, he was a safe option. Marinette spent too much time lonely and sad. As far as she was concerned, she’d only just met Viperion, and when the mission was over he would disappear. She didn’t have to follow through on anything she said to him. Nothing she did raised any expectations. She didn’t have to worry about leading him on or breaking his heart. The situation must be frustrating for her. She was a doer. Being a spectator at best and a victim at worst in this situation, it made total sense that she would need something else to think about and focus on, a chance to blow off a little steam without consequences. 

And honestly, Luka was fine with indulging her. It fed his ego that she found him attractive enough to flirt with, even tease, but more importantly, if he could make Marinette happy, he wanted to. If he could make her feel pretty and valued and wanted, like the attractive young woman she was but never seemed to have time to be, then he wanted to, even if he had to wear a mask.

There was just one little problem. 

“Marinette,” he said, as gently as he could, “I get that you’re interested in the suit and I’m more happy to let you look at it, but first I’d like to get us where we’re going without faceplanting us both into the pavement, okay?”

“Right,” Marinette said, looking horrified and completely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I should have known better, if course you’re a professional and I’m being horrible, aren’t I, making you uncomfortable when you’re just trying to do your job—“

Well, that wouldn’t do. He placed two fingers over her lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” he told her when she stopped talking, and chucked her under the chin gently. “I don’t mind you touching me at all. In fact—“ he leaned into her space, just a little. “I like it. Certainly worse things than having a hot girl put her hands on me, even if it’s just for the suit.” He gave her an appreciative look and a wink and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. “I just don’t want you to be hurt. Ladybug’s counting on me to keep you safe after all.”

He could see instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, though he couldn’t fathom why. The color creeping up her face drained away and her smile turned plastic.

“Right,” Marinette said cheerfully, but the sound was hollow. “Wouldn’t want to let Ladybug down.” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Vierion repeated, putting his hand on her shoulder, all playfulness gone as he hunched slightly to look into her face. “Ever, but definitely not on my watch. Marinette, it would kill me if anything happened to you because I was distracted. And you can be…” He gave her a lopsided grin and a quick up and down look. “Very distracting.” 

She hunched her shoulders slightly, blushing, in a way that took him back to another time when he’d felt the urgent need to tell her how important she was. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said warmly, squeezing her shoulder before letting go. “You can check out the suit as much as you want when we get where we’re going.”  

“Right,” she breathed as he picked her up again. She put her arms around his neck and tucked her head down, pressing her eyes against his neck. “Because it was totally all about the suit.” 

Viperion chuckled. “You can check me out too if you want, I don’t mind.” 

He cradled her a little tighter as he ran, aware his heart was pounding from more than the run.

***

“There you go, Marinette. We made it.” Viperion let her feet drop, keeping his arm around her back. Marinette slid down his body until her feet touched the ground, her arms still around his neck. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Rena Rouge,” he added, gesturing at the hero in question. “Rena, Marinette.” 

“Hi,” Marinette said, sliding around to his side as she hunched her shoulders and waved with an awkward smile. “Um, sorry about all the trouble here.”

“It’s not your fault, Marinette,” Viperion said warmly, squeezing her against his side before Rena could even speak. 

Rena was looking at them with raised eyebrows. “You two are certainly...friendly,” she commented. 

“Are we?” Viperion said, lips twitching with the effort not to laugh as he looked down at Marinette still pressed against his side. “Sorry if I’m being too familiar,” he told her insincerely. She covered a giggle herself as he continued, “It’s just, well.” He gave Marinette a sly grin and a wink. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng is a bit of a mouthful.”

She looked up at him with a wicked twinkle in her pretty eyes. “I think you could handle it.”

He had to look away for just a moment before he could keep a straight face as he told her in a low voice, “I’d certainly try if you wanted me to.” Marinette giggled again behind her hand. 

Rena’s eyebrows looked likely to shoot off her head entirely. “Well, it certainly seems like there’s something going on here that I missed.” 

“You didn’t miss anything,” Viperion shrugged as Marinette unplastered herself from his side and wrapped her hands around his bicep instead. 

Probably fortunately, Chat showed up right then and ran through the plan again. Marinette continued clinging to Viperion’s arm throughout the briefing, which got looks from both Rena and Chat, but Viperion’s face remained impassive. 

“Don’t get distracted,” Chat warned him before leaping away. 

Marinette snorted softly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Viperion coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” he remarked. 

Marinette perked up a little bit, squeezing his arm. “Do you work out? Or is it just part of being a hero? Do magic muscles come with the suit?”

Viperion laughed as he reached back for his lyre and shook his earpiece out of its compartment. “A little more strength, yeah, but no extra magic muscles. Let’s just say I lead an active lifestyle.”

“One that includes a lot of time in the sun,” Marinette giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You’re pretty tanned. You definitely didn’t get that from being a hero.”

“Kind of hard to sunbathe in the suit,” Viperion agreed, running a finger along the edge of his mask. “Leaves awkward tan lines.” 

Marinette buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her laugh. “So the tan goes all the way down then?” she asked, when she could. 

Viperion smirked at her. “Yep. All the way.”  Marinette turned red and sputtered, and he looked away, grinning as he slipped his earpiece into place. Went a little further than you meant to, didn’t you? he thought with amusement. Too bad for you Couffaines have no shame. “Chat, Rena, do you read me?” 

“Loud and clear.”

“Gotcha, Scales.”

“Let me know when you’re in position,” he said, and then movement caught his eye. 

“Akuma,” he said urgently, growing serious at once. He put his arm out to move Marinette behind him, and felt her hands on his back as she moved close. “Here we go,” he said grimly. “Second Chance.” He slid the snake head back and touched his communicator. “Chat, Rena, she’s here. Checkpoint set. Round one.” 

Marinette’s hands moved over his back and down to his sides, and he sucked in a breath as they slid up the smoother texture of the darker panels on his side. “This part is kind of like Chat’s suit,” she murmured. “But this part must be armored,” she ran her hands forward over the ridged teal armor over his belly. 

Dear God, what had he gotten himself into?

She must have noticed his tension. “You said I could touch you,” she reminded him.

He had to swallow before he could answer. “I did.” 

“Did you change your mind?” 

Luka closed his eyes for a moment. He’d always known she was attracted to him but it wasn’t a thought he normally allowed himself to indulge in much. It just made knowing she didn’t actually want him worse. If he wanted to back out, now was the time. “No,” he said finally. “It’s okay.” 

Viperion drew back slightly as the akuma passed by below them. He felt Marinette peek over his shoulder.

“Oh, she’s scary,” Marinette whispered, and pressed her face into the back of his neck. “You’re sure you can’t see us?” 

He turned his head toward her for just a moment and leaned it on hers. “It’s fine, we’re out of sight. Don’t be scared, we’re all here to protect you.”

“I know,” she said softly. “I’m not scared if I’m with you.”

He had to shift his position to cover the shiver that sent through him. The akuma was past them now and Rena was casting her illusion. 

She ran her fingers through the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Your hair’s so soft. Guess a Miraculous dye job will do that, huh?”

Oh, that felt amazing, but Viperion could see the akuma shriek and begin to flee. “Second Chance,” he breathed. A flash of white, and then he gave his debrief over the comm so that Rena could adjust her illusion. Then Marinette’s hands were sliding up his sides again.

It took nine resets before Rena got her illusion refined enough to fool the Akuma into thinking she’d gotten her revenge on Marinette and for Chat to successfully lure her away. Nine times he recounted the battle over the comms and suggested changes.

Nine times he’d steadfastly kept his attention on the akuma while he let Marinette run her hands over his sides, up his belly and chest. Nine times he felt her press her face to the back of his neck and rest her cheek on his back while she toyed with his hair. He knew every line of her teasing by heart. His own varied, partially depending on his own sense of whether he was going to have to reset again. The only reason he hadn’t just given in and kissed her (or tackled her to the floor, if he was honest) was the combined knowledge that his friends were still in harm's way and that Sass would give him a lecture about the responsibilities that came with time powers. 

He was maybe wound a little bit tight by the time he took her home. 

“Well,” he said, setting her down on her balcony. “Here we are, beautiful. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked, not unhooking her arms from around his neck. 

“I’ve never enjoyed an akuma battle so much,” he told her, voice low, one hand sliding onto her hip while the other gripped the railing behind him in a desperate attempt to ground himself before he did something stupid. “Whoever catches your heart will be one lucky guy.”

“Thanks for being my hero today,” she smiled up at him through her lashes, a pretty pink tinting her cheeks the only warning he got that she was about to wreck him again. “I think a kiss is the traditional reward?”

“I don’t hold with those kinds of traditions,” he said a little roughly, hand tightening on the rail behind him. “But if you want to kiss me, I’m not about to say no.”

“If I do, are you going to kiss me back?” she asked, and though her tone was teasing her eyes were anxious. 

Viperion hummed thoughtfully, the hand on her hip sliding around to press into her lower back, pulling her closer. “I guess that’s just a chance you’ll have to take. If you decide you want to.”

“I want to,” she breathed, and he bent down until his forehead touched hers, eyes on hers the whole time. He felt her breath hitch and closed his eyes, waiting, as always, for her to choose, and trying to pretend his heart wasn’t racing just at the thought.

Her fingertips touched his cheek, hesitating, and then her palm fitted itself to the curve. It occurred to him to be glad he’d had time to shave before Ladybug showed up. He did kiss her back and she grew more confident, pressing into him, and the next thing he knew her hands were in his hair and her tongue was in his mouth and he made an extremely unheroic noise even as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her up into him. 

Viperion’s bracelet beeped and he felt Marinette sigh as she pulled back from him. “That means you have to go, right?” 

“I, um,” he blinked as she began to back away from him and his hands slid from her back to her arms, and then to her hands, which softly squeezed before letting go completely. 

“Please be safe, Viperion,” she said, her brow creasing as she undoubtedly remembered that he still had an akuma to defeat. Viperion swallowed and shook his head quickly, mustering a Chat-worthy grin that was entirely fake.

“Don’t worry,” he winked. “That Akuma’s not even close to being the most dangerous thing I’ve been around today. I’ll be fine. Go inside now and stay there until Ladybug does her thing, okay?” Viperion turned away quickly, pulling in a deep breath before he vaulted over the balcony railing.

***

His bracelet beeped a final warning about three rooftops later. He quickly found a place in the shadow of the building’s roof entry hutch and put his back against the wall. His transformation released and he met Sass’s highly amused eyes before he put his hands on his face and slid to the ground with a muffled whine. 

Sass’s hissing laughter was deeply unhelpful.

“Sass,” Luka said from behind his hands. “What the hell was that?”

“At a guess,” Sass replied, smirking—Luka didn’t have to look at him to know it—“Hormonesss.”

Luka slid his hands down to glare at Sass over his fingers. “That’s your input? Ladybug and Marinette both decide to try and make me combust today and the best you’ve got is hormones?”

Sass laughed at him again and Luka groaned. 

“What do you wissssh me to sssay?” the kwami chuckled. “I have myssself heard Ladybug refer to Viperion as a ‘ssssnack.’ I don’t sssee any reason Marinette should think differently. Unless I mistake the meaning of the word in this contexsst, that should be ssssufficient anssswer.” He flicked his tail. “Ssssspeaking of which.”

Luka groaned. “I could have lived without knowing that, thanks.” He pulled the little baggie full of chopped hardboiled egg out of his pocket and tossed it to the kwami without even looking. “Eat fast, we have to go meet Ladybug’s other contact.” 

Sass just chuckled and pulled the bag open. 

***

She didn’t have a lot of time, she was on a schedule, but Marinette couldn’t resist throwing herself on her bed and squealing into her pillow. Then she rolled over onto her back. “I can’t believe I did all that,” she gasped, fingers flying to her lips “What’s wrong with me?”

Tikki floated nearby, giggling. “You like Luka, Marinette, you know you do. I think you just felt a little bit bolder knowing he was wearing the mask.” She flew close and poked Marinette’s cheek. “Was it everything you thought it would be.” 

Tikki zipped back quickly as Marinette pulled her pillow back over her red face and squealed into it again. She never thought she would be bold enough to do such things, but...but it felt good. And Luka...he’d been thrown at first, clearly, but then he’d rolled with it, because Luka was super good at rolling with things, even, apparently, if those things included her touching him and teasing him and flirting and trading innuendo she never could have spoken to his unmasked face. 

Would it...be like that? If it wasn’t Marinette and Viperion, but Marinette and Luka, and they were in a relationship, is that...is that how it would feel? Not awkward and embarrassing, but...fun and teasing and exciting. Was that how it felt when you liked someone who liked you back? Would he look at her like that every day with those soft eyes, and talk to her in that warm, low voice, and stand with his arm around her, pulling her close into his side, and...and let her kiss him like that...or maybe kiss her like— 

She felt Tikki land on her head and pat her hair. “Come on Marinette! You’d better get ready for the next part. You don’t want to keep Viperion waiting,” she finished in a singsong. 

“Right,” Marinette sighed. She got off her bed and pulled the Miracle Box out from under it. As soon as it opened, she picked up the mouse Miraculous and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. It had been a couple of years since Multimouse’s last appearance. Surely she was safe to try it again. Mylène had done a great job with it but she was out of the country on one of her eco projects for the moment, so it was up to Marinette.

Not that she minded the chance to work with Viperion a little longer. Not that she minded at all.

Marinette put on the necklace and smiled at Mullo, eyes sparkling. Moments later, she was leaping off her balcony in the familiar pink and grey suit, on her way to meet Viperion, her heart beating with anticipation. 

***

Viperion was leaning against a wall, idly strumming his lyre and daydreaming about Marinette, when his mission partner hit the roof and rolled to her feet. It took him a moment to totally focus on her but when he did it took all of his natural stoicism to keep his jaw from dropping.

That...was not the mouse he expected.

Holy shit.

Until today, Luka would have denied that he had a type, but God. Clearly he was weak for tiny blue-eyed dynamos with dark hair. He’d never seen eyes that could kill like that except on Marinette. Her suit was fitted like Ladybug’s rather than padded and armored like his or Chat’s or Carpace’s, or flared like Rena’s. While all the boys had gotten used to seeing, or avoiding seeing, Ladybug’s curves in the suit, Viperion suddenly realized that the red and black spotted pattern did a much better job of distracting from the more subtle lines of her body, and the new mouse’s light grey suit...did not.

She cleared her throat, and he realized that he was staring at her abs and straightened off the wall, tucking his lyre away.

“Sorry, I was expecting someone else,” he said as smoothly as he could, offering his hand. “Viperion.” 

“Nice to meet you,” she said brightly, shaking his hand and then planting one hand on her cocked hip and saluting with the other. “I’m afraid your regularly scheduled mouse couldn’t be here today, so I’m Multimouse, at your service.” She winked one big blue eye and Viperion’s knees went weak.

He decided he was taking a very long, very cold shower when he got home. Assuming he survived. The universe really had it in for him today. 

Well it’s a hell of a way to go, he thought to himself, taking a steadying breath.

“Happy to work with you,” Viperion smiled. “I’m sure Ladybug briefed you on the plan, any questions?” 

“Plenty,” she grinned with another devastating wink. “But we’re supposed to be working.” 

Viperion folded his arms and smirked despite the heat he felt in his face. “I’m almost afraid to ask if there’s anything I should know.” 

“Just follow my lead, handsome,” she grinned, turning away as she unlooped her jump rope belt with an entirely unnecessary swing of her hips. “Think you can do that?” 

Oh, Mousey was a flirt. He grinned. “I’ll certainly enjoy trying,” he murmured, quiet enough that she could ignore it if she chose.

Instead Multimouse looked back at him over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. “I know you’ve had a long day already, so just let me know if you get tired.”

Viperion chuckled. “I think I’m getting my second wind,” he winked. “By all means, after you.” 

“Catch me if you can, handsome!” Multimouse swung from the building and Viperion took a running leap after her.

Multimouse led him to a warehouse, and after he smashed the lock, they slipped inside. It was deserted and Chat was supposed to be keeping the akuma occupied and after his ring, but there was no harm in being cautious. “You’re a handy partner to have,” Multimouse said, looping one arm through his. “This plan shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

“Ladybug did the hard work,” Viperion commented. “I’m just the muscle today. Have to hand it to her, she’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

“Ooh, watch your phrasing,” Multimouse winced, swinging her hip into him. “Remember your company, handsome.” 

“Sorry,” Viperion chuckled. “You’re right, poor choice of words.” 

“If you’re nice for the rest of the mission maybe I’ll let you make it up to me,” Multimouse teased, fingers curling around his bicep. “Hmm, Ladybug knew what she was doing.”

Viperion plucked her hand off him. “Don’t do that, please.” 

“Oh,” her eyes widened slightly, the first sign of hesitancy he’d seen from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“You didn’t,” Viiperion told her, squeezing the hand he was still holding before letting go. “I’d just rather we keep this hands off, if you don’t mind. No hard feelings.”

 “Sure,” Multimouse perked up again, though he thought he saw a hint of pink under her mask. 

“Can’t say I mind being on pretty girl detail for the day,” he said lightly, hoping to put her back at ease. “Where to, ma’am? I’m supposed to follow your lead.”

“This way,” Multimouse tugged him towards a corridor. “The akuma victim rents a space back here to use for her studio. Ladybug wants us to get there, take a look around, and see if we can get the akumatized item. She thinks it’s probably boobytrapped, so that’s where I come in. You’ll set second chance before I go just in case anything goes wrong.” 

Viperion followed her and they started slowly down the long, echoey hallway. So much for stealth, he thought, wincing slightly. Multimouse must have thought so too because while she kept her alert posture, she smiled back at him and said, “So, did you know that you came up second on the Ladyblog’s Hottest Hero: Male Edition survey?” 

Viperion chuckled awkwardly, trying not to blush. “Chat’s hard to compete with,” he replied with a crooked smile. 

“You were robbed, if you ask me,” Multimouse said in a conversational tone, winking at him when he glanced over at her. She really needs to stop doing that. He swallowed and took a slow breath before he answered her. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of belly breathing today. 

“Everybody has their own taste,” Viperion shrugged. “Guess not everybody goes for ‘mysterious, aloof, and quiet.’” 

“You read your own profile?” Multimouse giggled. 

“I was curious,” he grinned. “Haven’t you read yours?”

“Don’t have one,” Multimouse held up her hands and pretended to pout. “I’m so overlooked.”

“I can’t imagine anyone overlooking you.” 

“Ooh, flatterer,” she giggled, and then sobered. “This is actually only my second time out. The first time was years ago and it didn’t end so great.” 

“Really? That surprises me. You seem so natural,” Viperion said, following her down the corridor. 

“Why thank you,” Multimouse grinned over her shoulder at him, and his heart skipped a beat. 

Marinette, he reminded himself firmly, although she technically had no claim on him and he certainly had none on her. He blew out another breath, and then inhaled deeply—and abruptly wrinkled his nose. “Fabric dye,” he muttered. He’d been over to Marinette’s once while she was dying fabric and even with her windows open the smell had driven him up to her balcony. 

“Yes, this is the place,” Multimouse confirmed. She opened the door a crack and peeked inside, and Viperion readied himself to jerk her back in case of any unexpected surprises. “You don’t have to go any further,” she said, her flirtatious air gone and replaced with an intense focus that impressed him. “I know you hate the smell. Multitude!”

Viperion looked at her sharply but was blinded by the light of her power activating. He took a step back as she glowed brightly, and when he could see again, his partner was gone. He looked down to see the Multimice grinning up at him. One of them waved him down. Viperion knelt and put his hand down. One of the Multimice climbed onto his palm and he lifted her to his face. “I’ll stay with you,” she said cheerfully, hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” 

Viperion chuckled. “Welcome aboard.” He brought his hand up to his shoulder and the Multimouse hopped up. 

“The rest of me will go scout and report back,” she said, and then pointed to his bracelet. “If you could?”

“Second Chance.” Viperion slid the bracelet back.

The Multimice still on the floor blew him a kiss in unison, and then ran off in different directions. Viperion couldn’t help a smile, though he directed it at the ground. She—they? were really too cute. 

“So,” Multimouse said, reclining on her side along his shoulder and propping her face on one hand, “Just you and me now. Does my handsome partner have a girlfriend?” 

“No girlfriend,” he sighed, a wistful smile taking over his face. “Just a girl. One amazing girl. You’re cute, Mousey, and I’m sure you’ve got a style of amazing all your own, but my girl...she’s not my girl, she doesn’t like me that way, but...anyway, there’s no one like her. Not even Ladybug.” He looked at her and she jumped, shutting her mouth quickly and looking down as she ran her finger across the texture of his suit. “You? Anyone special in your life?”

“Hmm,” Multimouse twirled her jump rope absently. “Sort of. It’s...complicated.” She sighed dreamily. “And I really wish it wasn’t, because I really do like him. He’s sweet and talented and thoughtful...insightful, really.” She sat up, crossing her legs, and reached up to pinch his cheek, which felt really funny considering how small she was. “Almost as handsome as you. Nice muscles, too, though he doesn’t show them off nearly enough.” She bounced her foot and seemed to consider what she was about to say. “I thought I’d missed my chance though. I kept him waiting for a long time, and—” She looked at him, and then looked away quickly. “I was pretty sure he didn’t feel that way about me anymore, but...I’m starting to wonder if…” He turned his head slightly so that he could see her face better. She was smiling softly down at the jump rope in her hand, biting her full lower lip and blushing. Viperion smiled. 

“Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then,” he said, shrugging his shoulder just enough to jostle her slightly. “If he’s been waiting all that time, then he’s probably not going to make a move unless you do. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?”

Multimouse frowned, blinking at him. “But if he was still into me, wouldn’t he keep trying? Other...other guys have…” 

Luka snorted softly. “Would you like him if he was like ‘other guys?’” 

“I’d like him if he was like you,” Multimouse purred, leaning against his neck. 

“Right, okay,” Viperion chuckled. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to. I’m just saying, if you are interested, then you’re going to have to make a move, because if he does still have feelings for you, he’s trying to respect you by keeping them to himself.” He turned his face toward her and winked. “Food for thought. Though I’m sure a girl like you has plenty of options.”

“Aw, I’ll bet you say that to all the girls you turn down.”

Luka chuckled. “Believe me, if it weren’t for M—my girl, I’d be first in line.”

Multimouse squeaked and nearly fell backwards off of his shoulder, and Luka bit his lip in a vain effort to contain his grin. 

“Need a hand?” he asked, careful not to move.

“No, I’m good!” she gasped, clawing her way back up the seams of his suit. Then she turned her head and brightened. “Oh, here I come!”

The Minimice—nope, Viperion immediately crossed that name out in his mind—the Manymice—no, that was practically the same as Multimice. Copymice? Okay that just sounded dumb. This is why I let Rose write the lyrics, ugh. The Multimice returned, each of them with their arms full of...yarn? Viperion knelt and his Multimouse jumped down from his shoulder. They chattered amongst themselves, talking so fast that Viperion couldn’t quite keep up, and then they lined up and began knotting their pieces of yarn together.

One of them (he wasn’t sure if it was the same one that had been with him all this time; he wished they came in different colors or something so he could tell them apart) turned to him and said, “The akumatized object is defended by a weird sort of...maze made of yarn. Like one of those laser grids you see in spy movies? We’re pretty sure that if we can get above it, we can drop down through the maze. I’m not sure what the strands do but we’d just as soon not find out! I think we’ve got enough pieces here to reach from those girders up there.” She pointed up and Viperion looked up to the girders crossing the warehouse-style ceiling.

“Are you sure it’ll hold?” Viperion frowned. “I don’t want you to fall.” 

“Check it,” Multimouse winked at him, holding it up. Viperion took yarn and held it up, inspecting the knots. His eyebrows went up.

“You know your knots,” he said, tugging the yarn carefully. The knots tightened and held. “Where’d you learn that?” 

“Oh,” the mini Multimouse’s eyes went wide, and she blushed under her mask. “Umm...a friend taught me.” 

“Your special friend?” Viperion teased, “Maybe more special than you said if he taught you knots like these.”

“It is not like that,” Multimouse insisted, growing pinker. She folded her arms and looking away from him. “He spends a lot of time around boats, that’s all. Maybe I should ask how you know them.” 

“I’ve spent a little bit of time on boats as well,” Viperion chuckled. “Well, it looks pretty good. I think it should work. Everybody grab on, let’s give it a quick test and make sure it’ll hold your weights.” 

The Multimice all grabbed onto the yarn rope in a line, and Luka carefully lifted it by one end, his other hand ready to catch anybody that fell. Finally all of the mice were off the ground, the end of the rope hovering an inch or so above the floor. “Okay,” Viperion nodded. “Okay, looks good. Nice work. I’ll take you up.” He looked up to the steel girders criss-crossing above him and then around, planning his route up. 

It took some fumbling but after a few minutes, Viperion got to his feet with his arms full of clinging Multimice. “Everybody good?” he asked. “If you don’t feel secure, now’s the time to say.” 

“We’re good!” chorused the girls, and Viperion chuckled, then looked up again and took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go. One...two…” He felt them grip tighter. “Three!” Viperion leapt, resisting the instinct to use his arms for balance and momentum, and made it up to the steel crossbeam. He blew out a slow breath, relieved as he let the Multimice carefully down on the girder. 

“Well done,” one said, patting his hand with a sympathetic look, and Viperion smiled tightly, a little more adrenaline in his system than he wanted to admit to from the effort of getting up here without dropping or crushing anyone. 

“Be careful,” he said as the Multimice walked along the girder until they were all gathered above the glowing yarn maze, looking down into the center. Luka followed, careful not to knock anyone off as he looked down. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Multimouse teased. 

“Not at all,” Luka chuckled, sitting down on the girder and hanging his legs off as he looked down. “What is that? It looks like a stapler.”

“It’s a bedazzler,” said Multimouse, and all of them wrinkled their noses at once. “How cheap. Did she really think she was going to pass that off in front of those judges? Audrey Bourgeois might be the queen of glitter but I guarantee you the stuff she uses costs at least a hundred bucks a bottle and cheap rhinestones are not going to cut it. I can just hear her now.” She put her nose in the air, one hand on her hip and the other one out in an affected pose as she flapped her hand. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Viperion’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly.

“That’s...a pretty good impression,” he said slowly, looking intently at her. “Almost the best one I’ve seen.” 

Multimouse just shook her head. “Poor thing was probably humiliated, no wonder Hawkmoth got to her.” She held up the end of their yarn rope. “Would you mind tying it?” 

Viperion did so, hands working the tiny yarn rope almost automatically as his mind raced on other matters. He gave the Multimice a thoughtful look, but none of them noticed, all on their hands and knees staring down at the purple bedazzler. “This is really worrying,” one of them commented. “This is the first time an akuma’s actually hidden away from the akumatized person. This one’s simple enough, but they always get smarter.” 

When the rope was secure, he lowered it carefully between the strands of the yarn maze. Four Multimice hopped onto it one by one and slid down.

Working together, they knotted the end of the yarn rope securely around the bedazzler, silently thanking Luka for his lessons on knots and ropes, and then one by one the Multimice shimmied back up the rope. Once there, they reformed into one large multimouse, who grinned up at Viperion triumphantly as she reached down and grabbed the yarn rope, hauling the bedazzler up hand over hand. “And there we go,” she grinned triumphantly, sitting down on the beam and crossing her legs, holding out the bedazzler triumphantly.

Viperion was looking at her strangely, one arm folded across his chest and the other propped up on it, fingers pressed to his lips. Multimouse cocked her head, and looked back at him. “Do I have something on my face?” she quipped. “Besides the mask.” 

He didn’t answer. 

“Care to do the honors?” Multimouse asked, setting the bedazzler down between them. 

Viperion wordlessly took his lyre from the small of his back and smashed it down in a quick, violent movement that made Multimouse jump. It did the trick, though, and the akuma floated free. 

“Wow,” Multimouse said absently, tracking the little butterfly. “Never thought I’d see you do that with an instrument. I’ll signal Ladybug and meet you on the next roof over.” She got to her feet and leapt nimbly across the beams, following the akuma. When she was sure she was out of Viperion’s sight, she whispered, “Come on out, Tikki.” Tikki popped out of one of her buns and came to float in front of her, beaming. “Ready?” Multimouse asked, and Tikki nodded. “Okay. Mullo, Tikki, unify.” A few minutes later, she’d captured the akuma and tossed her yoyo to cast the cure.

She stood weighing her yoyo in her hand. Technically speaking, Multibug supposed there was no need for her to meet up with Viperion again. She could have just sent him home, which was her original plan. But she hadn’t and he was expecting her and she felt unwilling to disappoint him. Marinette was used to the extra freedom that came with the mask and didn’t usually let it go to her head, but...well. She’d said a lot of things to Viperion today that Marinette had been longing to say to Luka for a while now and it felt good. He deserved to hear that he was brave and strong and kind and wonderful, and nobody said it to him the way they should.

Including her. 

“Mullo, Tikki, divide,” she ordered, and Tikki flew free. She took one look at Multimouse’s face and giggled, hiding back in her bun again.

When Multimouse arrived on the roof, Viperion was sitting on the ledge of the roof, one knee bent and one hanging down, his eyes on the lyre in his hands as he idly plucked a tune. He looked like he’d been plucked from the gardens at Versaille and left there by accident. There was something about his posture that made her uneasy and she approached him with a little less swagger than she had planned. She opened her mouth to greet him but he spoke before she could.

“I was just thinking,” he said, eyes still down, “About that girl. The one I’m so crazy about. She’s a lot like you.” 

Multimouse rocked back on her heels slightly, trying not to give away how thrown she was. She folded her arms and cocked her shoulders teasingly, closing one eye. “I thought you said there was nobody like her.” 

Viperion chuckled, still strumming. Strumming...strumming Marinette’s song, she realized with a sudden jolt. “This girl, she’s amazing. I’ve been in love with her for years. She wasn’t interested though so I’ve been kinda hanging back for a while now.” He shook his head, and Multimouse was having trouble looking away from the fingers plucking the lyre. “I’m starting to think though...maybe she’s changing her mind. Maybe she’s starting to feel a little bit of what I feel for her.” 

Marinette felt a thrill that sped up and down her body and took up residence in her stomach, electrifying the butterflies already fluttering there. “You still love her?”

Viperion smiled, and stopped playing, returning his lyre to the small of his back as he cocked his head to look at her, and the look in his eyes took her breath. “More and more as time passes. She just keeps getting more amazing, not less. I’ve dated other people, but never for long. Nobody measures up. I think maybe I can get over her then I see her again and it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Multimouse had no reason to blush at that, she reminded herself. She strolled over to him and turned, flattening her hands on the ledge where he was sitting and leaning back against it. “You should tell her, then. Maybe you’re right and her feelings are changing, but she thinks you’ve moved on so she’s too scared to say anything.”

“Well, you know. I might be wrong, but…” Viperion leaned toward her and put his mouth right by her ear. “I think I just did.” 

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. 

Viperion hopped off the ledge and turned to face her, placing one hand next to her on the ledge as he leaned in close. Just like Luka, she thought distantly, her heart racing, to not trap her in, to leave her an escape.  “You know a little too much about me for coincidence, little mouse. And maybe I know you just a little bit too well. I’ve heard you do that Audrey Bourgeois impression a few thousand times.” Multmouse bit her lip. “You’ve been running me a merry chase all day but I’ve caught you now, haven’t I?” Viperion continued, his nose brushed lightly against her cheek, just under her mask. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I don’t mind, handsome,” Multimouse said, as bravely as she could manage, even though having him so close was making her heart pound. “But what if you’re wrong?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” She could see Viperion’s grin widen out of the corner of her eye. “I’m all about taking chances.” 

Multimouse turned her face to give him a Look, lips parted for a retort, but as soon as she turned to him, he dipped down and kissed her—not the soft, careful way she’d always imagined Luka would kiss, but hard and hungry and fierce, like—

Like they were both wearing masks and they could pretend it never happened if they chose. Like it might be the only time she’d ever let him and he intended to make the most of it. Like she’d been torturing him all day and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

Like he’d been in love with her for years and was finally feeling a tiny sliver of hope that she might have feelings for him too.

She felt him hesitate and begin to pull back, and suddenly she realized she hadn’t exactly stopped him, but she wasn’t really responding either, too caught off guard to do more than let her lips form to his. And if that wasn’t just like Luka, to kiss her like that and still wait for her. 

Marinette might have hesitated. Ladybug would have delivered a lecture on professionalism in the suit.

Multimouse put her arms around his neck to stop his retreat and pressed into him, catching his lower lip between her teeth before pressing her mouth to his. His breath hitched and his hesitation disappeared and then they were really kissing, and it was like kissing him on her balcony only better, because this time he wasn’t shocked and hesitating and acting on instinct.  

This time he wanted her and she wanted him and neither of them had to own up to it if they didn’t want to and it made them reckless.

By the time they stopped only his arm around her waist and the hand feeling up her back were keeping her from just toppling over the roof, he’d bent her so far back. They hung there for a moment, panting, and then he slowly straightened, bringing her back upright. He grinned at her, looking extremely pleased with himself as he eyed her. She felt a little cheated that his Miraculous lipstick wasn’t smudged, but his hair was a wreck, which made her smirk. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he told her, voice deeper than she’d ever heard it outside of a performance.

Multimouse slipped out of his arms and turned half-away from him, hands on her hips. “You think you know who I am,” she said, pouting bruised lips. “But that doesn’t mean I know who you are.” 

“Hmm,” he smiled indulgently, leaning back against the roof ledge. “If you didn’t know before, I think you know now. I’m planning to be at Cafe Belle about two o’clock tomorrow. If the girl I like just happens to wander by, I’ll ask her to join me for coffee and cheesecake.” 

Multimouse wrinkled her nose. “Is that a mouse joke?” 

Viperion’s low chuckle made her shiver. “If she doesn’t care for cheesecake I’m sure I can find something to her taste.” 

“Hmm,” Multimouse said airily, twirling the end of her jump rope tail as she sauntered away from him. “Well, good luck with that…” 

Viperion sighed, head cocking slightly. “I am going to miss that suit.” 

Multimouse whirled, her hands on her hips. “And I thought you were such a gentleman.” 

Viperion grinned, looking at her through his bangs, his green eyes looking somehow more intense and...predatory than Luka’s usual blue. “I guess we both learned something about each other today. I didn’t know you could be such a tease. You made it an awfully long day today, you know.” 

Multimouse cocked a hip and folded her arms. “You still might be wrong.”

Viperion shrugged, but his grin didn’t budge. “Maybe.” He winked. “See you tomorrow.” He kicked up his legs and flipped over the roof ledge behind him. 

Multimouse sighed. “I’m going to miss that suit too.” 

***

Luka was sweating and exhausted by the time he got back to the boat. He’d run as Viperion as fast and as far as he could, teeth clenched to keep from whooping at the top of his lungs. 

Even after his transformation dropped, he sprinted a couple of blocks just on his own. He had, after all, kind of a lot of energy to burn off. Every time he thought he was calming down, he remembered, and a grin split his face and he put on another burst of speed. 

He could hear Sass laughing at him in his hood and he couldn’t care at all. 

Luka arrived home panting and sweating and dishevelled. That wasn’t unusual for him; if anyone saw him they’d probably assume he’d been at work—which was sort of true, anyway, even if no one knew he occasionally moonlighted as a superhero and made out with pretty girls on rooftops how the hell did this become his life.

Sass eyed Luka as the kwami ate his snack. Luka grinned at him and then at the ground.

“May I asssk what that was?”

Luka shrugged his shoulders without looking up. “Hormones?” 

Sass laughed. “Indeed.” 

Luka risked a glance at him. “Are you going to yell at me?” 

Sass snorted. “I am not. If you wissssh a lecture, I’m sure Ladybug can arrange a disssscusion with Tikki. Persssonally, I think if you are judged worthy to wield me, which you have done resssponssibly for yearsss, it isss reasssonable to asssume you are not a fool. You knew what you were doing, you knew the risssk you were taking. Ladybug trusssts you with the fate of the city; I trussst you to ssstand up to your choicesss, whatever the outcome.”

“I—” Luka sighed. “Thanks, Sass.” 

Sass finished his food and came to land on Luka’s shoulder, wrapping his tail lightly around Luka’s neck. He patted Luka’s cheek gently.

Luka put the plate away and went back on deck to wait for Ladybug. Unsurprisingly, given how long it had taken him to get home, he didn’t have to wait long. He was leaning on his elbows staring at the water when her feet hit the deck and the zip of her retracting yoyo. 

“You’re not playing your guitar,” she observed.

Luka turned and shrugged. “It’s been kind of a weird day,” he said, handing over the bracelet. “I think I’m still processing it.” 

Ladybug’s eyebrow quirked and his heart jumped for no apparent reason. Habit, he supposed, at this point. Gorgeous blue-eyed girls had been wrecking him all day so why should now be any different?

Different. 

It...wasn’t different. It wasn’t different at all. Luka swallowed, suddenly staring at Ladybug’s mouth.

“Good weird or bad weird?” Ladybug asked, tilting her head and studying him. He probably looked deranged, he realized, windblown and sweaty and suddenly having a lot of difficulty putting words together.

“Good,” he replied, barely managing not to stutter. “The good kind, the best, actually, um…” He pressed his lips together before he could babble anything else. Ladybug looked like she was fighting a smile.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am fantastic,” he said, collapsing more than leaning back against the rail. “Couldn’t be better.” 

Ladybug giggled. “Well, that’s good to hear.” She gave him a smirk and flung her yoyo. “See you around, Luka.”  

“Right,” he said numbly to the empty air, and then he bolted for the door to the cabin. He clattered down the stairs and burst into his thankfully-empty room where he could lose his shit in peace. 

It was a little thing, really. Her lips were just a little redder than usual, but it was enough. The eyes, the lips, the hair—holy shit the smirk—he felt like an idiot. Luka’s legs went weak and he sat down on his bed.

He bent his head and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair. “I need a shower,” he muttered absently.

“Didn’t you shower this morning?” Juleka grumbled from the doorway.

Luka stripped off his sweaty shirt and threw it in her face. “I’m a guy, I need another one.” 

“Eeew!” she squealed, clawing it away. By the time she threw it to the floor, Luka had pushed past her and into the Liberty’s small bathroom, just about the only place where he could actually be alone on the whole boat. 

He preferred to be alone while his brain was melting out of his ears.

Multimouse was Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug. It was clear as day now, it just plain wasn’t possible that there were two people like that in the world, let alone three. He felt like such a moron. 

Marinette kissed him and he kissed Multmouse who was Marinette who was Ladybug and that he means he kissed Ladybug. Twice! Which, okay, he was in love with Marinette and always had been, and over the moon to have been kissing her, but he’d had some time to process that part and come on. Ladybug. If there was anyone in their age group who was attracted to girls who hadn’t fantasized about kissing Ladybug...well it was no one he’d ever met. Just nobody thought they’d ever actually get to, and he had, and that was kind of blowing his mind.

Juleka would be so jealous if she knew. 

Of course she hadn’t been wearing the masks at the time, or at least not that mask, but Luka didn’t care. He’d kiss Marinette in any mask or no mask and he’d wear any damn thing she wanted him to because he was madly, stupidly in love with her, and she was three times as amazing as he ever thought and he had a date with her tomorrow.

After years of silent pining and half-hearted attempts to move on...he had a date with Marinette. 

His hands were shaking.

Luka leaned his elbows on the tiny sink and grinned at himself in the mirror, shaking his head.

“You are one lucky bastard,” he muttered to his reflection, and laughed, giddy and breathless.

***

“What am I doing, Tikki?” Marinette breathed as she walked, briskly despite her nerves. “This is crazy. Right? Tell me this is crazy, Tikki.” 

“Love is always a little crazy, Marinette,” Tikki giggled, peeking up from Marinette’s purse. “Just give it a chance! For once it’s not the world at stake. And it’s just Luka.”

“Right,” Marinette muttered. “Just Luka, that I climbed all over yesterday and now he knows it was me and—”

“And thinking that he wanted you to meet him today just to reject you would be crazy,” Tikki teased, poking Marinette’s side. “I know it’s scary, Marinette, but this is the good scary! The normal scary! The exciting scary!”

Marinette smiled and put her hand in her purse to stroke Tikki’s head lightly. “Thanks, Tikki.” She promptly faltered a step and tripped. “Oh no, there he is. Just like he said he would be.”

“That’s a good thing, Marinette!” Tikki giggled.

Luka was leaning against the wall between the cafe door and the alley separating it from the next building, hands shoved in his pockets. His jean pockets, because he wasn’t wearing the hoodie that she had seen on him at nearly every encounter for three years, just a Kitty Section t-shirt that Marinette had made him.

And because she’d made it, it fit him perfectly. And without his hoodie, it left his arms mostly bare. Marinette whimpered quietly, cursing yesterday-Marinette for making her admiration of his arms so...obvious.

“You can do it, Marinette,” Tikki whispered, sinking lower into the purse. Marinette gulped in a deep breath and started walking again.

“Hi Luka,” she called as she got closer, “Hey, what a surprise, running into you like this! I was just, um, just out and about.” 

Luka looked up, giving her that same warm stare she’d last seen from masked green eyes, and a slow smile that made her skin tingle. “Hey Marinette. Fancy meeting you here. I was just thinking about getting a table to grab some lunch. His smile took on a cocky tilt that she had only rarely seen on him and for a moment she couldn’t decide if she was annoyed by it or something else entirely. “Care to join me? I hear they have great cheesecake here.”

Marinette stood, vibrating in indecision for just a moment. Luka’s eyes didn’t waver. 

Well, maybe it’s time you took a little chance then. He’s kinda put himself out there enough, don’t you think?

He was right. 

But first things first.

Marinette took a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and in a smoother motion than she would have thought she was capable of outside of the suit, she stepped up to him, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and swung him around into the alley entrance. “Woah,” he yelped, and then his eyes widened further as she planted a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed, backing him further down the (thankfully relatively clean) alley. Something in her face must have given him an inkling of her mood because he was slowly turning very red. 

She changed her angle to back him into the wall and kept advancing until she was chest to chest with him, looking up into his face. “Just so we’re clear,” she said, with only a little tremble in her voice though she could feel her hands starting to shake, “Nothing on this earth will save you if you breathe a word of what you think you know to anyone.” 

Luka’s eyes couldn’t get any wider. “Of course,” he gasped, breathlessly. “I wouldn’t, I would nev—mmph!” Marinette grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down into a kiss that was harder than she meant it to be, just out of nerves. He must have liked it well enough, though, because he made the same noise he’d made yesterday when she kissed Viperion on her balcony. That sparked the memory of the look on his face afterwards, which made her giggle, and then she squeaked as he took advantage of her distraction and—wow, pulling him into the alley was a good decision because she did not want any witnesses to this.  

This was so much better without the suits, she realized giddily as he pulled her up flush against him. He made that noise again when her hands slid up over his shoulders and slipped into his hair. It felt amazing and she could have kissed him forever but there were things she still needed to say. 

Finally she put her hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly, and he stopped and drew back to look at her, lips red and hair even more tousled than usual, and Marinette was grateful he was still holding her because she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own at that point. 

“A little mouse told me you still had feelings for me,” Marinette whispered. “Is it true? Because I—” she continued in a rush before he could answer. “Because I definitely have feelings for you and if it’s not true that’s okay, but if it—if it is then maybe we could go have that cheesecake and if you’re free maybe we could go see a movie and—”

He cut her off with another kiss, and it was softer and slower, more tender, more like how she had always imagined Luka would kiss, but it was no less thrilling. 

“She also said you were a really good kisser,” Marinette added breathlessly when he drew back.  

“Yeah?” The corner of his mouth came up in a subtle smirk that she could definitely get used to seeing on him. 

“Yeah,” Marinette shrugged one shoulder, aware that her intense blush belied her unusually calm attitude. “So I guess I’m kinda hoping that since she was right about that,” Marinette dropped her eyes and rubbed two fingers against the fabric of his t-shirt, “Maybe she was right about the other thing too?” 

“If you mean the fact that I’m even more in love with you than I was the day you tripped into my room,” he lowered his forehead to rest on hers and took a shaky breath. “Then yeah, she was totally right. And that’s one secret I’m more than happy to be rid of.” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette sighed, “For keeping you waiting so long, and then hesitating even when I knew what I wanted.”

Luka lifted one hand and brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “If you think I’m even the slightest bit dissatisfied right now then by all means, let me convince you I’m not.” His hand turned and cupped her cheek as he leaned in. Marinette put a finger on his chin and he paused. 

“So...about that cheesecake?” she smiled.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he told her, and his eyes—she couldn’t look away. “Today and any day. Every day, if you want. Whatever I have to do to make this real, just tell me, I’m there.” 

Marinette smiled slowly. “Silly boy,” she said, letting her finger slide away from his chin. “It’s already real.” 

He looked at her with soft eyes, and his voice was warm and low as he said, “Then let’s go have some cheesecake and go watch a movie that, I’m going to warn you now, I have no intention of remembering.” His arm slid around her, pulling her close into his side, and she smiled. 

Luka smiled too as they strolled towards the cafe entrance together, not entirely convinced that his feet were touching the ground, and only the persistent pounding assured him his heart was still in his chest. 

Luka held open the cafe door for her and she smiled up at him. As she passed him, he took a cookie out of his pocket and slipped it into her purse. He wanted to make a good impression, after all, even if he wasn’t quite ready to tell Marinette he’d figured out more of her secrets than she realized.

@wickidjennie

#quickspins #500 followers #thank you #hope you love it #triple threat #flirting #fluff #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #321

i’m exploring the deepest recesses of tumblr to unearth super old surveys, so you can expect an onslaught of ‘em.

When someone is tailgating you, do you drive faster or slower? I drive the same speed, even though it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. What place outside of your own home do you spend the most time at? My sister's place. Have you ever been snorkeling? No. Do most of your relatives live in the same state/province as you? No; only my parents and immediate sisters live here. Have you ever participated in a medical study? No. Is there a food you hate that everyone else seems to like? Especially where I live, fried chicken. It's disgusting. Have you ever had to evacuate from a natural disaster? No. Do you have any family members who are cancer survivors? Numerous, actually. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have a driver's license, never mind anything else. What job does you significant other have? I’m single. When you were in elementary school, what was a typical afternoon like once you got home from school? I did my homework right away; well, after having a snack. After that, I was most likely on the computer playing Neopets or Webkinz, or something on the PlayStation. Is your favorite movie part of a series? Yes. Have you ever played in a water puddle? Sure, as a kid. I loved that. Have you ever played in a mud puddle? I don't think so. Have you ever kissed someone (outside) in the rain? Yes. He did it purely to be romantic, lol. Have you ever lost control of your car in the rain? No, thank fuck. Have you ever had to attend summer school? No. Have you ever experienced a summer where the temperature exceeded 120'F/49'C? Yikes, no, not that high. The highest we usually get is below 110. Do you live in a hot or cold (normally) climate? Hot. It sucks. Has your community ever had a “smog alert”? No. Have you ever raked leaves, and then played in them? Oh, absolutely as a kid. Dad would rake a pile just for us kids. Have they ever cancelled school because it was too hot? At least once, yes. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. Have you ever experienced “cat’s breath”, where the wind was so powerful it took your breath away, literally? Yep, especially when I visited Sara and we went on a walk. It was fucking outrageous. Safe to say I didn't last long on that walk. Has your/or have you been in a car that was stuck in a snowstorm? No. What does your MySpace profile look like? I haven't seen it since that site was still "a thing." I do remember, however, that it was COVERED in meerkats, haha. Pictures, facts, etc. And my page song was "Pocketful of Sunshine" by Natasha Beddingfield lmao. Do you like living in the country or city better? Country, 100%. I'm not a city gal by any means. Do you have a big backyard? No, it's very small. Not used to that at all. What is your favorite Adam Sandler movie? I don't know, he's in too many to choose lmao. What was the last thing that surprised you? Apparently a rocket crashed today after launch. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? No. I... didn't even know those existed lmao I feel dumb. Who was the last person that said something that warmed your heart? I'm not sure, but I'm quite certain my niece or nephew would be involved there, haha. What is your favorite park? I don't have one. Have you ever felt an earthquake? No. Do you believe anyone is asexual? ???????????? Yes???????????? Were you abused? No. Have you ever missed a deadline? Yeah. Can you tell Mary-Kate and Ashley apart in pictures? I haven't seen them in an eternity, idk. Describe your fondest memory: I don't really want to... but I'll entertain the question. It's hard to choose, and they just about all include Jason. I think what I hold closest though was our dance to "Stairway to Heaven" after prom in the headlights of his car in my front yard. It's something that physically hurts to remember. What song makes you cry every time you hear it? Let's set aside my "trigger songs" for this. "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade does it very easily. How often do you break your promises? I almost never do. I don't bullshit around with promises. I've only ever broken ones I'd forgotten I'd made, if my memory serves me right. How long do you take in the shower, on average? Not even 10 minutes. Do you have your MySpace/Facebook profile set to a "friends only" setting? Yes. Did your last kiss mean anything? Why or why not? Of course it did. I care very, very deeply for her. Are your summers usually boring and relaxing, or busy and interesting? "Summers are hot and miserable." <<<< mood Tell me a crazy thing you did as a child. I don't really think I did anything "crazy" as a child, just weird. Like pretending to be a father penguin arranging rocks to mock a nest. I was fuckin weird. How many best friends do you have? One. When you’re upset, who do you wanna talk to the most? Either Sara, Mom, or nobody. Opinion on Daughtry? They're nice. "No Surprise" is positively beautiful. Do you like country music? Noooooo. What’s been the most awkward situation you've been in? Okay, possible TMI. Basically, Jason's parents arrived home way, way earlier than they were supposed to and my panicky ass couldn't find my clothes quickly, and when I finally did, I had to dress as quickly as possible in his tiny-ass closet while he distracted his mom and dad lmfao. I'ma just say it was a very close call to me melting into a mortified puddle. I look back on it and laugh now, but the absolute, throbbing fear I felt was NOT funny back then lmfao. Don’t you love that feeling when you look at someone and you just melt? <3 That is genuinely one of the best feelings in the entire world. Do you prefer male or female singers? I have no preference. So what are you planning for this summer? Nothing, really... Who knows where the Covid situation will be then. What’s a good book? In general for absolutely anyone, Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. It is a book about pacifism that is so very deep and emotional. For women, I highly recommend The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. As a woman myself, the concept of the book is terrifying, to be reduced to reproduction machines without rights, so it's something you can really feel as a female. It's a book that definitely makes you want to fight for women's rights. Is it awkward for you when your parents talk to you about boys etc… No. I'm a grown woman. Now if she asked about my sex life (if I had one), I'd feel a bit weird, but not very. Do you like it when guys play with your hair? Yeah. Ever cried when you had to say goodbye to someone? Well of course. Over multiple people. Have your parents ever hated one of your boyfriends/girlfriends? No. Have you ever dreamt of someone you barely know? Indeed. Do you have a blood donor’s card? Yep. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? I had to before surgery. Has anyone seen you naked in the last week? No. What kind of doctor did you go to the last time you went? It was via phone, but I talked with my psychiatrist a few days ago. Does your ex still think about you? I'm sure Sara and Girt do, as they're my good friends, but idk if either think of me romantically. I would hope Jason at least remembers me with some degree of care in his heart... As for Juan, Aaron, and Tyler, idk if they do and I don't really care. What has been bothering you a lot lately? My weight. Are you trustworthy? I think so, yes. Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? Yeah, but it definitely depends on the situation. Which literary character would you dress up as, if you had to choose one? Speaking of The Handmaid's Tale, for Halloween one year, I really, really want to take some cool photos of me dressed as a handmaid with a (obviously fake) blood splatter over my stomach. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? Being born with the mom I have, probably. I have no idea. None. Of where I'd be without her. Do you miss college? Sigh, sometimes... but I'm not going back. No chance. Dropping out three times due to my mental state hints at a clear pattern. Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? Yeah, accidentally. Except with my physical science teacher in HS that eventually became my "other mom" and most recently our landlord, even. I call her "Mama" sometimes. What was the name of your first imaginary friend? It was a wolf whose name I don't remember. What color was your nursery when you were a baby? No clue. What is your favorite arcade game? I desperately wanna go to a location that has Silent Hill: The Arcade. :/ That's on my bucket list. It's very rare. Are you allergic to grass? No. Do you remember to water plants? I don’t have any plants to water. What is your favorite fall drink? I don't drink any "fall" drinks. Favorite winter drink? Hot chocolate! Favorite spring drink? There are "spring" drinks? Favorite summer drink? Gimme a nice, cold margarita. Name three creative people you know. Sara, Tez, and Mini are some of the most creative people I've ever written with. Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. Mark in like a million different ways, I look up greatly to Jeffree Star's work ethic (say what you will about him personally, but holy shit does mama WORK), and Emzotic for her incredible growth after trauma that's left her more confident than ever, and she's amazing with animals and just a darling overall. Does anyone know who your current crush is? Yeah, I'm pretty open about it. Have you ever been scammed? Not successfully, no. Which song describes your life? I relate to "Get Up" by Mother Mother a lot at this point in my life. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? Probably because I open up so slowly/am very secretive of myself when someone might be trying to get close. People have also criticized my laziness. Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? YouTube. At least I think Tez was the last person I gave my number to. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? Hunter, my neighbor growing up. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? My therapist. I had to leave group due to severe abdominal cramping. It was just my period, but he just wanted to check. What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? Probably a soda back when I was still in school. Has anyone given you butterflies recently? Actually yeah; I had a memory of Sara that caused 'em to revisit me. What was the name of the first person you ever had a crush on? Why did you like them? I'm going to exclude my puppy-dog crush (Dylan) and talk about my first "real" crush, Sebastian. I liked him because we had very similar interests, he was really friendly, nice, and funny, and he clearly trusted me a lot because he actually confided in me regarding the relationship he was in that was struggling and causing him a lot of pain. I thought he was attractive, too. Ngl, I wonder sometimes where we could have gone if he hadn't been dating the girl, because I'm 90% sure he was into me, too. In current times, he very recently got engaged! Super happy for him. Which parent do you identify with the most? My ma. What do you think you cook or bake the best? Scrambled eggs, I guess. That's just about all I CAN make, haha. My family likes 'em. I always use American cheese, salt, pepper, and a bit of hot sauce. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Admitting I RP. If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why? Of actually important things, gay rights. If we're talkin' passionate about anything, then the answer's meerkats, duh. Who are you most envious of—real or fictional—and why? A rival photographer that lives here. I absolutely hate admitting that, but yeah, I'm extremely envious of her. She gets way more traffic than I do by a long shot, even though I, from a completely modest and honest standpoint, genuinely think I do better work than her. It's just frustrating. All about who you know in this business. How old is the most expired item in your fridge? Supposedly our milk expired on the 1st, but it smells just fine? And mind you, I am very cautious with expiration dates, and I've found milk typically starts to smell bad a few days earlier than the date to me. This jug is an outlier. What are your favorite style of underwear? I'm a fat old lady that likes high-waisted underwear. What’s the saddest song you’ve ever heard? Maybe "The Ballad of Dwight Fry" by Alice Cooper. I could name tons, though. How about the sweetest song? Maybe "Easy to Love You" by Theory of a Deadman. Another song I struggle to listen to because it was one of mine and Jason's "songs." Do you know how to play dominoes? No. Are you proud of what you’re doing with your heart and time right now? Not in the least. Why or why not? I'm just wasting time. Doing nothing with true meaning, and I seem unable to get over this low point I'm in. How many bones have you broken? One. Well, I was told "fractured," but apparently that's the same thing as broken? Have you ever won anything? Big or small? Yeah, multiple things. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Animals like cats or dogs. Pets, basically. I would feel WAY too weird. Has anything/anyone every saved your life before? Yes. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? If I'm embarrassed by it, why would I share it with whoever reads these? What is the most important memory you have and why? When I decided it was truly time to move on from Jason. Why that's my most important is obvious: it changed my mindset and life in general. Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? God, I hope Jason read my apology email I last sent him. I finally accepted I did wrong, too, and I want to know that he knows that. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My youngest niece's first birthday was mid-February. What’s a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? The violin. Do you play that instrument? I wish I could. Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) Just spaghetti noodles, ig. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Who sent the last e-mail you got? My PHP therapist sent me the Zoom link to our group session. Do you have a favorite shape? Out of basic ones, circles. What’s the last song you bought/downloaded? I don't recall. Probably something by 3TEETH. Have you ever been on a trapeze? Hell nah. Do you buy chocolate after Valentine’s Day when it goes on sale? No. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I met a poet at the psych hospital once. I also have an old friend who had something published in a magazine, I think. Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but I'd love to to take more ~aesthetic~ photographs sometimes. What is something you think is underrated? Snakes! :( They're not scary or gross, nor do they in any way deserve to be killed. I wish the worth of snakes was seen much more clearly. They are spectacular, intriguing animals. Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? Once it hits like 65*F, I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? I hope beyond hope that I have a job I enjoy. And that I'm driving again. What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? I used to loooove video editing, but I've lost all motivation for it. Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? Somewhere we have this one stretchy thing that I have no idea what it's called, then there are two sets of small weights somewhere. Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? New York. Farthest south? Florida. East? Well, ya can't go more east in NC unless you want to drive into the ocean... lol. West? Illinois. If you have/want children, will you raise them similar to the way you were raised? If I had kids, I would in some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? Nothing strange, no. What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? I don't know. Not very high. Do you have an ebook reader? (iPad, Kindle, etc.) No. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? 2017, ig. What is the last random act of kindness you did? I guess you could consider a loving text to Sara a random act of kindness?

#survey #surveys #questions

[rynweaverwriting]

The Dizzy Stargazers Project: 5 Questions for 5 Years of The Fool

Conducted by Maria Kornacki

Shoutout to Malcolm MacMaster for the support and giving me a space to make this happen!

“An artist's duty, as far I’m concerned, is to reflect the times.” - Nina Simone

“Music is a universal language” is a common phrase, but it rings true. Music brings people together. Artists often thrive on the intimacy of live shows. However, quarantine has put life on hold.

Social distancing combined with social media challenges us to communicate in other ways. I’ve seen people’s creativity shine during these strange times.

This project is intended to give voice to people, hear their stories, and see how we’re all connected. It’s also a celebration of five years since The Fool was released. It’s a time of reflection and moving forward.

I sent these five questions to several of Ryn Weaver’s fans/friends. The answers could’ve been in written form or a video:

What’s one of your favorite songs and/or lyrics from The Fool and why?

What does it mean to be a “Fool” to you?

What’s one of your favorite memories  of Ryn, either in real life or just through social media interactions?

How has your perception of Ryn’s album and her music as a whole shifted since first listening to it? In other words, have you gained any new insights or is there something in your current life you can connect back to certain themes in The Fool?

In what ways has music helped you?

Responses:

Maria Kornacki (ig: @maria_kornacki)

1. Here Is Home is a standout stylistically. I just like how it has an “in-between” tempo to fit the lyrics. New Constellations and parts of Traveling Song are lyrical embodiments of “the fool” to me, which brings me to my response.

2. A “fool” to me is someone who asks a lot of questions, but doesn’t get all the answers to feel satisfied. Thus, they live the outer life of a nomad stemming from an endless quest for wisdom in their inner world.

3. My favorite memory has to be going live with you for your enriching and confidence-building creative writing prompts despite me being a little unprepared the first time. It made me realize how many music and book synchronicities we have. Also, shoutout to my blue soul individuals: Maggie and Joni. Nina is a color of her own.

4. I connect more with the concept of loss and not settling in terms of my career life. The themes of The Fool follow me in different areas of my life. I also relate to the idea of “what if there’s more?” even just through learning new info and diving deeper.

5. Music has helped me share my expressive and creative sides as well as connect with like minded people, hence why I started this project (2 weeks ago). I didn’t really see myself as someone that could lead, organize, and share my ideas openly, and yet here we are.

Sam (twitter: @heremotionss)

1. My favorite is Pierre because of how personal sounding it is and I love the chorus.

2. I always associate it with being renewed and falling in love.

3. My favorite Ryn memory on social media is when we tweeted about her pet rat.

4. The Fool is an album that doesn’t age. I think I can associate this album personally with coming into young adulthood.

5. Music is a language that can connect with any emotion, and any time in life. I think when certain pieces of work can make people feel something, then it becomes a movement in a way.

Sarah (twitter: @rynsgirlfriend)

1. My favorite lyric from The Fool is "I've never been one for goodbyes". I have trouble dealing with grief and losses and this is very comforting to me.

2. What being a "fool" means to me is following your heart and passions although it may seem crazy. Being a fool to me means submitting to your desires even if you know better.

3. Ryn has always been nothing but caring and compassionate to me. Every time she has supported me is a time that is my favorite. Throughout the years, I've carried heavy trauma with me that's made me erratic, emotional and hard to understand, and Ryn has always been nurturing and supportive.

4. When The Fool first came out, i haven't experienced the pain I have prior to the album release. When I listen to the fool now, I connect more than ever, having dealt with limerence and how painful it can be.

5. Music has helped me feel less alone. I remember always thinking I was crazy and that there was no one like me i could relate to. When artists release vulnerable songs it is metaphorically (to me) a hand on my shoulder, sitting with me through the pain and letting me know I'm not alone.

Bo (ig: @kyototrain)

1. I think my favorite song off of The Fool is New Constellations because it addresses the main point of the album; the uncertainty of what path to take in life. It resonates with me because when I entered college I thought I was confident in what I wanted to do, only to realize I was clueless and unsure of my future. I had to seriously think about what I wanted for myself and how it might make the people close to me feel. While all of the possibilities life can take you can be overwhelming, there’s a relief in it knowing you can choose to be anything you want and do anything you want.

2. To be a fool is to not let the fear of finding your own way in the world keep you limited to something that makes you unhappy.

3. My friend group on twitter added Ryn to our group chat (Taco Bell vigil). We added her thinking she would never come in to chat but she did one night, and we talked with her until like 2 am about music, theatre, stuff like that. It made us all really happy. She comes back to talk sometimes and she calls us tacos.

4. The Fool came out when I was 16, so I didn’t have much life experience. As a result, I wasn’t able to relate a whole lot to the album (I still had it on heavy rotation though). Now that I’m 21, I’ve had so many wild experiences and growth. I can relate to the album a lot more. Whether it’s the love you feel for a soulmate that you’ll feel even if you grow apart (Here is Home), or the feeling of freedom and the need for something more than you have in the moment (New Constellations), it’s helped me appreciate the album even more than I already do.

5. I love music so much because of how versatile it is in the sense that you can have music that you’ll play to get immersed in or music that you play while you’re studying. It can help me escape as well as help me stay focused.

Tate (twitter: @octatate)

1. My favorite song from The Fool is definitely “Promises”. I think all of Ryn’s lyrics are excellent but there’s something so compelling about the lyrics in that song to me. Also, the chorus is fun to scream along to.

2. Being a “fool,” to me means putting up with bullshit from those around you because you care about them, and letting people tell you what you are and what you will be. My entire life I've had people in my life that have tried to bring me down and stand in my way, and for a while, I put up with it. I didn't want to upset anyone, so I just kept my head down and kept moving. In recent years, especially this year. I’ve realized that I need to STOP being a “fool” and stand up for myself  and now I’m making a conscious effort to do so.

3. My favorite memories of Ryn are probably the ones of the conversations my friends and I had with her in our twitter group chat, Taco Bell Vigil. She used to come in and talk to us about Björk and stuff and she was always so sweet and down to earth. It felt like she was actually one of our friends just having a casual conversation with us.

4. I think my perception of The Fool has changed in the sense that my favorite track has changed constantly throughout my time being a fan of her. For a while, it was “Stay Low,” then it was “Pierre,” then it was the title track, then it was “New Constellations,” and now it’s “Promises.” I think I definitely connect to “New Constellations” the most now though, especially the “What if there’s more?” part in the outro. I'm going off to college soon, and lately I've just been thinking about what more the world has to offer me, and where I'll end up. I've lived in the suburbs my entire life, and I want to know if there’s anything more I can do to make the most of my time left in my hometown, and what more the world holds for me wherever I end up going for college.

5. Music is basically the only thing that consistently brings me happiness in life. It’s a constant and always will be. If i’m sad, it’s there for me. If i’m angry, it’s there for me. Whenever i need it, it’s there. I know how corny it sounds, but listening to music really has shaped my life for the better. Ryn’s music especially is very important to me, and I'm sure that years from now when i’m a grown man, I’ll enjoy The Fool and “Reasons Not to Die” just as much as I do now.

Antonio Múnera (ig: @artangelszs)

1. New Constellations have always resonated with me deeply, especially at this exact moment, since I just graduated high school! The music that I like the best always provides some sort of catharsis, and to me, this song is the epitome of that sensation. Every time I listen to it it’s like all of my negative feelings and thoughts are purified. Of course this doesn’t actually happen, but for those 4-5 minutes, I can almost feel all of my problems disappearing. I find solace in every lyric in the song, but particularly in Ryn’s final inquiry, “What if there’s more?” Songs like this are what keeps me searching for that “more” in my life!

2. To me, being a fool specifically comes with some sort of awareness. Even Ryn herself admits that she’s a fool in the chorus of the title track; it’s both a tragic yet solemn way of describing oneself. It’s being conscious about one’s own self destructive behavior, while simultaneously trying to improve as a person. I’m eternally grateful for people like Ryn that share their stories so people like me, another fool, don’t feel so alone in this behemoth of a world.

3. Initially, my favorite memories of Ryn was when she replied to a few of my tweets. However, talking to her twice on instagram live and being able to read my own poetry to her was genuinely one of the most invigorating moments of my life. She even called me a “little poet” once I finished reciting one of my poems :,) But I think the best moment was when she called me “Colombian daddy”. Now THAT brought a tear to my eye.

4. I was in eighth grade when The Fool came out, so naturally, my first listen of it was a bit cursory, for I didn’t really focus on lyrics back then. However, once I actually focused on what Ryn had to say with her album, it became a whole different work of art. This is also because as I grew older, my anxiety and depression just got exponentially worse, and though depression isn’t really a theme explored in Ryn’s album, it does deal with themes of hurting, acceptance, and an ultimate need for emancipation, which are all topics that resonate with me. While The Fool used to be an album that I listened to just to pass the time, now it’s an enlightening experience every time I listen to it, and I can definitely say that it’s going to be one of my favorite albums of all time for the rest of my life!

5. I thought that films were the ultimate source of escapism and happiness, but over the years, I’ve found music to be the most indispensable thing in my life. And that’s not an exaggeration in the slightest. I possibly wouldn’t even still be alive without music like Ryn’s. She is certainly one of my reasons not to die ^-^

Destiny Thomas (ig: @destinyxcx)

1. My favorite song by Ryn is New Constellations, I actually wrote about it in my magazine. There’s a whole page on that song and what the lyric "you can run if you want to" means to me. When I first saw Ryn live on her Misfits tour she would make a speech before New Constellations and inspired me since then to always run from something or someone you're attached to if you're unhappy with it.

3. One of my favorite memories of Ryn was when she was on tour for sure, it was so much fun and of course one of the first times I saw her live and her VIP package on tour was really cool. She's very sweet to her supporters and loves talking to everyone. I'm just really excited for her to come back whenever she's ready to play some shows and release music!!

Nat (twitter: @track1O)

1. My favorite songs from The Fool are Sail On, Here Is Home and New Constellations. I listen to these songs when I’m feeling down because they somehow make me happy, I just feel like Ryn is singing the songs for me and for me only. New Constellations was produced by my favorite producers so this song is very special to me, I love everything about it. Traveling Song is another one I love with my whole heart, I know Ryn wrote this song for her grandpa, this song was already out when my grandpa died, I think I was the saddest person in the world when that happened but listening to it made me feel a little bit better, I messaged Ryn on twitter and thanked her for this song. My favorite lyrics are “soulmates aren’t just lovers, you know?” and all the lyrics from New Constellations.

2. I love being a fool, I’ve never experienced being a fool for anyone but I know I’m a fool in general. I think that’s one of the best things about me.

3. I’ve never meet or seen Ryn live but we used to interact a lot on twitter, my favorite memory is when she came to Mexico to play at a festival but I couldn’t go because it was so far from where I live but me and other friends messaged her and tried to plan a road trip to meet her (it didn’t work but it’s still a good memory lol)

4. I fell in love with her voice and music when I first listened to it, I was so happy when she announced The Fool and I played the album on repeat for months. I can’t wait to listen to her new music in the future.

5. Music is something that makes me the happiest person in the world. I love it so much and that’s the only thing that makes me feel alive. Ryn’s music has helped me a lot. It makes me want to sing, dance, cry, etc. It has helped me during difficult times like when my grandpa died, Reasons Not to Die helped me think about everything in my life when it was released. I just want to thank her for making amazing music, I miss her voice so much so I hope she releases something soon.

Gigi (ig: @misdenlaide)

1. Well I love pretty much all the album, but a song that stand out the most to me is New Constellations. There a lot of heartbreak songs out there, from the person that's been left perspective, but not so many from the person who leaves. I've been in that situation and the way she put it into words was extremely smart. 

2. To be blind. As an example, you know the reality of a situation, but it is not the one you want, so you fool yourself and you just try to make it happen the way you want it to happen... when it won't. Or when you just don't see stuff because of that same reason. I don't know if I made myself clear... you see roses and technicolor when you know you are being a fool with someone else. “Old dog, new treat”.

3) Well I haven't met her in real life (yet), but I remember the songs of the album being there in different situations of my life. I can relate to them a lot, so whenever I was in a similar situation, I just felt like they got me.

4. YES, since The Fool came out I connected to it a lot. Because of old relationships and stuff, where I've been the fool, when I wanted to look for new constellations, when I never meant to break my own promises, and the perspective changed a lot as I was living the same things the songs talked about. For example, New Constellations. I thought it was kind of a love song and then I realized it was a song from someone who leaves another. Crazy, but it happened, and it just made me appreciate her music more.

5. Music has a big impact in my life, so much I want to dedicate the rest of it to music (I am studying musical production now). I met friends because of it, cried tears of joy and sadness. It makes me calm and makes my heart beat faster... I believe that music is my true love in life. It’s something I struggle to put into words. It’s my fuel. My reason to be here, essentially.

Andie (twitter: @andrewdxrling)

1. My favourite lyric would be “My wings too wild to clip and cage around me” (I mean, it IS tattooed on my bicep!). It means a lot to me because it’s a reminder that I can’t let anyone try and use my own mind and heart against me or to try and quiet me. And since it’s on my bicep in Ryn’s handwriting, it’s like a constant reminder from her to always spread my wings and be my authentic self. 

2. To me, being a fool means accepting all the aspects of yourself. The crazy and wild ones, the fucked up ones, the messy ones, and the good ones. It means letting yourself be the entirety of who you are.

3. My favourite memory would be during her second tour when I saw her in LA! I had seen her a couple times on the first tour in the north, but then I moved! When I saw her in LA, she remembered me, and talked with me and it was such a nice feeling to know someone I hold very dear to my heart can spend the time to recognise and acknowledge me

Anyjah (twitter: @ANyjahh_)

1. Literally the entire album is one I hold so close to my heart. There’s about three lyrics from three different songs that come to mind as a favorite. The first is “sail on”. It’s such a short phrase but the song is literally one of my favorites still on repeat to this day. Every time I think about the phrase it reminds me of being somewhere deep in the middle of the ocean without any worries, sailing on. 

The second would be “Child of Neptune I’m the daughter of the Sun” from New Constellations. That is such a powerful lyric to me. When I think about that it boosts my self-esteem. Like imagine telling someone you’re the daughter of the sun. So powerful.

The third and last is “even if you stay or if you go” from Here Is Home. I got that tattooed on my collarbone. That song brings me such peace. People come and go. It reminds me of that saying if you love something or someone, and you set it free, and they come back, then it’s meant to be. 

2. For me, being a fool means to be naive or played, but people have made it sound so negative and condescending. We’re all fools at one point. I think it’s like a learning experience while you’re young. It’s not all bad. 

3. I honestly loved when she released Reasons Not To Die to the world. Not only did she get to see that I loved that song because she talked about being afraid of releasing music, but I feel like it was such an empowering moment for her in her life and I was so in awe. 

4. For me, I see The Fool as a growing experience, and it’s just something that brings me back to my very own youth/how I’ve grown myself. 

5. Music has helped me to create and feel relatable. I love that no matter what you’re feeling or going through, there’s always a song out there you can listen to and realize someone else may have gone through the same thing as you. Music also helps me to create through writing. I can take the story of a song and turn it into my own that way.

Mariana (twitter: @Marispiva)

1. My favorite song from The Fool is “Traveling Song” because I went through a similar experience as Ryn but with my grandma and that song helped me get out of the deep depression I went through after she passed away.

2. Being a fool to me means learning from your mistakes in order to reach the top of the mountain. Bringing new beginnings into your life and going on a journey, not knowing what to expect. I look at the positive side rather than the negative side.

3. My favorite memory was when I flew to NYC for the Steve Madden show. It was my first time traveling outside of Chicago and I needed to meet her since I wasn’t able to after the Chicago show for the Misfits Toys Tour. Also, tweeting her to get her Big Mac ass outside so I could meet her lmao.

4. I feel like The Fool as a whole is for misfits like me. High school was the hardest part of my life and it wasn’t easy to fit in, especially transferring to a new school twice. People always looked at me differently and never accepted me, so when Ryn released The Fool, I felt a connection and it helped me shape myself as a person. I didn’t care what other people thought about me and always stayed true to myself.

5. Music has helped me in SO many ways! Music is my escape from reality and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for music. It’s the only thing that keeps me mentally stable so it has helped me battle my demons. Music is my therapy.

Jade (twitter: @FoolRyn)

1. My Favorite song from the record is New Constellations. English is only my second language, so when I got the album, and heard it for the first time, I had to look up what Constellations meant. Little did I know, she was singing about my absolute favorite thing in the world. My favorite lyrics have to be the first line of that song. No matter how many times I listen to it, I still close my eyes and imagine living every word. It makes me feel at bliss.

2. To be a Fool is to be a wanderer, not just physically but spiritually, emotionally, and mentally.

3. One of my earliest memories and my favorite ones is interacting with Ryn on twitter and just enjoying memes. 

4. For me, her music got better and better with each time listening to them. Even now 5 years later, I find the slightest of things in the production or the range of her voice. It’s absolutely fascinating!

5. Music helped me with a lot of things, from trouble at home to mental wellness. Without music, I wouldn’t even be sure I'd be alive.

That’s all! This project is what you get when a double Aquarius and a Leo moon come together. Thank you to everybody who participated, either through text or video, and thank you to Ryn for gifting us with such beautiful music!

#BLM Petition Links:

https://signatures.carrd.com

https://blacklivesmatter.com/petitions/

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

Books about Race:

https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/show/race

#ryn weaver #the fool #interview #dizzy stargazers #maria kornacki #malcolm macmaster #chris bayer #chase gray

[castlehead]

: LITTLE MILE,

PART ONE : : [live for the weekend and buy grams of blow with your paycheck.

see section A. feel good about going for walks. work thru a long distance relationship and get through the suicidal shit okay. then

break promises but also keep a few, not to keep up appearances but you wish rather to keep the purity of your word, which is hard fucking work. wait till she comes for a visit after super long time

apart and spread some roses on the bed because she likes that sort of thing. leave oreos on the pillow as oreos are delicious. ride her later in the night about that time you smoked six cigarettes in five

minutes as she was blowing xanax to prove a point. go to sleep crying but remember a few special moments as well and base your memories around that. see GOD for awhile but then decide it was

bullshit and perhaps just your conscience given a literal voice. see section A. hear nobody text you for days and understand some weird nonsensical ehrebung at really enjoying a smoke for the first

time in the morning as you look out the window. it is brisk and sunny and the bricks of the buildings look beautiful. think what a day what a day etc. then actually try to accomplish something with friends in

PARK SLOPE. understand finally that the general agreement is you whack as shit. then find a letter from your girlfriend from awhile ago and feel uplifted all over again for some reason but as for positivity

you do not discriminate. drink horn of sun to fierce last dregs. think about whether you are actually thin or just think you get thinner when you are really just used to how fat you are. talk to your girlfriend at

a certain point mentioned in section A. while on break for way too long.

sweat out a cluttered subway ride every morning forever. decide to jump off the BROOKLYN BRIDGE then decide not to. look meaningfully at a

church because you are reading twilight of the idols. repeat a lot of different stuff at irregular intervals. repeat stuff at regular intervals. learn that those statements are an acceptable example of an irregular repetition: or is

irregular as regards time only, not difference: an irregular life has less to do with fiber than we think. an irregular life can be as varied as disposition to pate : : as feeling to brokenness, as alteration altered to fear of change

might comfort one back into the nest of ignorance : it doesn't have to mean as regards, well, anything : it itself can be fiber, a fibrous fiber: so: we scrounge for something burred underneath the soft netting: crack up: put way too much

weight in your presence at social events : leave social events early or go to sleep in front of everybody pretending to be passed out : see social events as a total stressor : don't kno what to do : never know what to do ever: social

events. assume yourself a negative, discomfited person thereby. lose all friends because you dig deep into stupidity to find a reason for it, think about it until you go blind, rectify and rectify till all's a mess: is that what you want: yes:

friends are lost based upon too many simpering blasted apologies. really wish that you will leave a good looking corpse and do leave a good looking corpse. wonder why you don’t think about childhood very often, as in the concept.

see section A. come to the conclusion that fuck yes it is too late to have a happy one but really come to understand that that doesn’t matter as all things are for a time anyway but then get pissed off about this because you then realize as well

that you are mere mortal and still fields of open grass and oak away from describing something beautiful or whatever but then also wonder that you are infinite wherein the moment is concerned: and then think about your ex

for some crazy reason because all that matters is the past as regards what you’d want to retain in some eternal rolodex of spite or some shit, or maybe it’s just you but you can’t reimburse your mom because of all the infinite

you’re feeling and tell her you can’t and she says that is okay but doesn’t mention that it is ok because the advent of your twenties was mainly depressing, and you there, in room, gnawing at psyche like some useless ape as usual say, WELL

OUT WITH IT, and there she goes finagling a fart out of her ass your mom we are speaking of your mom and her aggravation and her remnant pain from a lost job years ago because oh certainly to fail once is to fail forever

and then you as you are young realize the moment is forever and you can make it a failure and you can make it a wonderful revealing of some big thickened BLEAR asking for property, asking for sense to be given it but you

can’t you can’t justify the dread nay [beckett] nor the odd ghosts in your bathroom that time you spoke to yourself for days and and and so then so then the weekend promises at least an end to this damned ineradicable

gloom and empty state as in empty and taxing but no state of emptiness no state of gloom yet here is gloom here is the reflections of a man refusing too long to look in the damn mirror and see himself is it you or is it i or is it all

the damn farts from the woman who birthed you wanting to be the final whiffing sound as to all of your gutsy failures and drudges through fields of stone and grass and oak you paint out of a backpack and some green

carpet in your room that one time you tripped balls on a tuesday on mushrooms and the razor talked to you and proved by its unassuming nature a very grill to the face that damned long face of a son too burnt

into his own damned house and wired by the damned eternity that sounds like some resilient, grand tocsin, some priketh ye some don’t but ya know it’s all just plain forgotten and happy at that, I’d live in codes wordless

more than explain this meaninglessness and/or stain on the life of time, that is humanity: that is growth: that is the paradigm of something written, written, scratched along the judgments of your mom’s farting fucking

asshole, your grown ass self, so proud to put on pants, so good at that one joke made riskily at a party and relished ever afterwards, so good at failure, happy failure, happy, happy to enter that small crack in the sadness too, happy

to bloom out of dismissal, shunning, happy to mature past the point of needing a single reason for a fart, an end, or a waste of mind. turn 30.

repeat. [etc] see section A.] ?? . . . .

RAGE on rage on, collapse into morning day like something of a storm, at least Frightful mist, some thunder bloom / glass incipient of the troubling harrowing: Some awful precondition. Out its frightful bells: wetly dew paints grass lucent-

-And I rise away from all that in my small cave in my state an eye half open, My knuckles are red from cracking them on my own jaw very a lot that night And some banging head i.e. sleep deprivation considered itself and made it

Worse. I thwarted myself continually mind whanging useless and thickly, like Sometimes i feel like that hamster I had when I was in middle school, wasn't, That i never named - - - uh, worth, it, wasn't worth it . S'ok it's ok for things

To no be worth it. Don't cry well then here's a fucking cookie Tard. I literally Just spat up phlegm right on my computer / no joke / I am freakish, & loud Also re hamster-mortality: I kno it is tragic, my girlfriend lost HAMSTERR

Named peanut. An entire quadrant of space specking thru eyes of that thing All day . Dont think ive evr done this much speed in one night (lol) i dont think i should be able to backtalk : this quick speed = religious,

[chalk dust molars fanatical facial people crunch 'em with 'em to dust. be sure to drudge up spume in the foggy brume some master floater or for sake of interracial justice an inanimate image of justice untarnished by opinion

or blaspheme. vulgar just for sake of cashing in on the weird honey : dip in there : of big politics etc anticipatory raging, prolepsis, summoner say : ARiSE ! ! !! : my girlfriend: she is sleeping right next to the and oh like a lamb she is, right

next to the voodoo-man, shepherd, making us all fly thru the honey right into some strict objective eye, truly naked vision, making commune with image and self. - - ] She goes on dozing into me and snoring soft like a, like subtle universal truth, or

Somethin. My snot is stuck in the bakc of my skull, i feel, i feel like waking up my Girlfriend with my hands all over like tidal waves : : i know hamstermortality, to let The reader kno : it is the wave of arcanum 17 : it is, it is waft of hope, like random

Prescience. Iit is the great like space etc of all, or some completely lazy encompassing. Kewl things only exist cuz hm i guess they exist for — — time, like hamsterts, Hamsters = meaning of universe, it’s like classical semantics or fuzzy logic:

Supervaluationists predicting borderline cases!!! How many hairs must i lose before You can call me bald : for the hairs will exist alway / they will, they will scream out : They will be a thing that is they are the very fuxxx god calls logic

Slash these words apart, greet blame and slash that, grab the bags: Run from the rage then, drum up some possibility for fuel, beat legs For leagues. ‘Message’ after ye with a bat, won’t get a thing so. But

Kicked up dust he’ll cough on, sweat drooling, finally fatigued: marigolds Fooling in the wind around him, agh, long day: we run into the ‘Pome’ Later: find it sucking on a sugar lump in some coffeeshop, well, money:

Who knew, who but the pivot finally: as drain groans a fable like a job to Do. Shit twists with flood and the seagulls berating lend belief at it all with Solid statement, caw, caw, wishing, duh, To Be Done With Message

Of course, especially one that some brine of heart sloshed up: some Reticular wisdom like as hair, hateful : some weird gloss over shadow Dims the bald head, the bald ‘Message’ - the crested ol’ bigot furious

Yawp yapping damnable in that there roast for the father: big squeeze, Squeeze of animus. Finally, down the block of stillness, down dug into The brig, obstructed color, rigid air, manic doors, kids laughing at him:

Little Mile : : feel it all over again : what answers can we get to as regards You fully: an elliptical, maybe? Or trash, or earthy disarrangement, dirt, Particles resulting in flipflop, wages made but unfulfilled for good? Or

Maybe marigolds !! Breezes coming out of their loops into wiggling weight Themselves, hulking as cathedral tunes, heavy with ambiguous threadiness, And that holy torment of an ever-figuring progenitor, professor of the

'Message'—black & bleak—against the righteous curiosity, ol' puff-head, ol' Apoplectic, Sorry For The State Of - - and dese homeless parties of the Sad. The sad chase, the chase as I must do is still solo. But grand, the

Hemophilic fire, the rusty brigade o’ pleaches o’ daffy hair, dummy cunt To stake on cosmic sex, just a blowoff: still. Then. Little dragoons whiffed It up anyways and blessed the fakery past mythos into real, made a great,

Big sepulcher for all 'em fathers: all the risks at tacky jive: lagoon: great, Great swoon of fibrous living out the ducky’s little murmuring in the mud, Tump-a-tump with buckles o’ swash : #dgaf : yet is we da pirate , as in ,

We is , we ah make anything magnificent and say it is that and leave it So. We. Croon and wait for that swell damned music’s dish to punch big and soft into the pillow : we: meet poetry POETRY POETRY POUR IT ALL

And soft into th. pillow. We. Down a side-street : have a baffled-eye ‘a sec: Din in the den gets closed the sisters ears : think some nature-shit: stfu: Bucolic site there wispy girl : pencil neck : root , , , for Image-Pleasant:

For you that is : root for the Panjundrum not, in his anger-yells all daffy, Deadening reasons for the noise, amplified like a big [bracket] to the side Of something, past declaration, past the final honesty and towards some

New squeamish chuck of ew-grease out of my bad throat : 'Message' Attempts to toughen with - providence, it feels, it knows - of mere scraps Of itself, and then I emit new strings for my shoes, frayed knot, couple

Stoners ranting in a parking lot when one sees a human innim and flees, From eye of him : one states the [bracket] as annotation even though it Supplies nothing : mere notation is as much enclitic for an infidel sense

As rhyming to behead borders of rhythm with timing , adding meaning Like chaff at the end while a sprocket ebbs out then 'splodes at once, a Gathering of mite and fingernail and bedding shod in the cracks under

The bland couch then sets aflame, burning down the garbage, which is Everywhere : police police : fuck da : : whelp : lost musings only whelm As much as one is willing to go rapidly , that is, will be as quality as the

Quicken, enacting some different statement thru defensive natures of style Like Declension : Logoaedic : parse the thought, then let it run before the Jello melts, food gets cold: picnic raped by ants. Premise of the rule. So the:

Uh: bracketed, shuffling fragged things dole more out for the warmness, As in, have something mean what it means, leave it at notation , make the Final well and, "End like a spear, not like a broom" - - Well, who knows

About honor: maybe just to prove myself I will right something really for Awhile too messed for the husbandman to mould with his ass: drop the Incisive manacles, they get my wrist bit with copper: write to right a thing

You never mention: madden out copper tongues: make demands about Stuff you have no idea you are actually talking about: but that's not going To mention itself either and is perhaps what is missing for the right reasons:

So why yell out proper tongues if that is all tongues want is their own voice To hock a spray of legit logey sniffed up the nasal psg. and out into the World. Well. Garbage burns itself to slew. But you like that. You enjoy

The mesmerized epiphanic trumpeting, priketh, prike prike : nasty uncle, He was , and a bald head a sunshine away from DEATH-LAZER. Stun, But be stupid as brick. As was said, I speak to reflect mirrors in darkness.

Should be obvious. Maybe this inkling of finding a new way to speak'll Dart straight for the first reason to pant and wave commodities at the sullen Sucker-tourist upon losing his next day's provender at the hands of silly kids.

DeMand: Wring rungs out proper tongues, lick pompous, drone on in thatt Stat o’ thing: status of thing: state of things: rut t tt t t t tt t tt t t tttt tt t t t t tttt Guts me : feeling in’t I feel nothing but in hole: & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Still the great compilers edge more into the fantastic, learn to eat it along with The tragic as one happy meal. Eventual blossom, hoping Mary and Ed ride fine Off into the sunset, cans tied to the bumper clicking like cliché: Jesus is sick :

He tells me so much is at risk here : then again, who could harbor such a feel But Big J or Yeezy : : well he’s a prick : that’s why you shouldn't music so much: I don’t listen to music nomores: even you’re tarnished bc of all this harlot noise

Attempting heaven, & whatnot : WHAT? WHO THN ?? WHAT THEN ?? So Fortunately, I’m Done. Getting into ye head. I’m already there. Felt random & Also, tortuous pressure spread keen thru label after label, waiting for sustenance,

It was given, as if words could ugh the body with ugh : feed me with 'don't' is What the character 'Message' means. This sentence means it is myself declaring A sentence. That is what it means, and the Myself in it shines out of that part of

It like some beautiful renegade oxygen, a distillation more perverse, a naked way, A death of all that damnable stuff we got our heads warped around in like some Exquisite Fucking Turban [tho false] tho, maybe drunk off picked points smacking

Of defeat, well : : : such's to give up meaning at all - - MESSAGE _a t_ _a l l_ [?] As if words could damage the body : does language uh have one string it can plukk To stop the heart?[.] Or does it all. Well. Uh, lose weight: is it a fascinating receptacle,

Or mere extensiveeverything: ” Do You Believe In God.” – – – – – – I wouldn't be Able to give you anything for jesus, much less Jews. HAve little idea what I believe. Belief is odd. I think I believe in, just, being chased, you know, for thievery. It's a

Saturated L.A. sun like in this song by [The National] it is called "Pink Rabbits." it Is really damn good I remember feeling like the string to my heart almost cut that one Time. But I couldn't tell you anything a medium in some spooky curtained shop

Wouldn't be able to perform with a bit more erggh 'flair' well damn I despise flair write To construct a core or write to DeMand to write or write to right something wrong w. Your sister's [hairdo] or write about strings. Write about all the strings. What all of

Them would do if connected THE WORLD IS POME across the globe. Don't think There'd be much room else for people. Well no worries then, you’ll steal hunches till you Can’t even breathe a thinnest wisp of sister-air. Enjoy never figuring out anything. I

Like to tip-toe but that's no way to run , I gotta say the world is fucked w/o a point , , , The drain is really sick [!] w. all this flood it might as well be the guts of garbage And the rightness of wrong , of the failed and of lineage thru language do we bring

Our own booze do we sing some amped version of the obvious soullessness everybody Gets to grate all over everybody else like some annoying sadness too small for this World, too inscrutable to be anything bt what it is, what it is not anything, as POME

Is words, not ideas, get subjugated by need to buddy up with certainty by corroborating This or that line with another, breaking another, letting pennies go slipshod thru da Grate, while all the while mighty confusion rends a new surprise in plain polished sight,

But o the bees in my gut wig out more folly but as plain to live and hope by their ruin To bring the ties untangled, yes, state the statement-as-goal, martyr a few mirrors thru Indelible mistake, ending Kierkegaard at Democritus' river etc. NO WE NEVER

STEP THRU THE SAME RIVER TWICE NO NOR PERHAPS ONCE, anyways, The bees escape nathless from a pirson-prison. In spite of all this floppy flotsam, Like some weird torture. The stingings bless, the robust yellow flow mitred across

De backs uf'm. And I still considerable, a regular pill for the unagog men still seeing Me unsightly, some lack, some twit, some spook : er something as like, as what god Makes of his leftovers in the afternoon between jobs: but me young boss: HOSS:

What?, zooks, gain, what gain 'questionmark' nothing an adorable steeple could not Bring together as all us wonderful people together rise them, these middle fingers- -Pointing up UP UP, run with lacking, then, fuck, huh?, shut up, suited only to

Sslipped phrase, the bank account gets canceled & yr out on the streets with only Luck and Fucks to feed you. Wiring runoff, shattered, wrecked, fetid, but all of it So Human that nobody seems to mind: neither of those three words can understand

My theosophy, nor gainsay, I'm too cryptic: : fault fault, fault fault, thwartedness- -But still continuance, shorn but not straight dead. Lucky but suffering. What a bore, To get brought in by force, to the party, snatch a few lichen, press against petri dish

To make dialogue unheard of or no at the party what this is about, this sleight of hand, This emotional screening we seize up and clench our asshole to forget about, rot in it I Say, row those sewage tentacles, mandibles, new legs from the mess, new smack to

The veins, new shot, lessening as day and eyesight, NARCAMNARCAM. Ruin stake [valuesystem] bless me achoo gradient risen sceptic collide me w truth,

Ruin stake dress me up in my garters and delirious falbalas at table, valuesystem,

Run to the ruin: make stand up puppetry the rotary: vast tracts of time enable the- -Child to believe he is infinite. Child god goes wishing-wishing at peak, wishing To see: you flee from definition like that stoner guy from earlier all the time, you

You let the questions mysteries bleed out thru yr fanciful cufflinks: drat: quaint: Wanna bleed staid blood. Want to create the hurt that must hurt, that must come: Just to have some control, as elusive blood, got to pour lopsided from a precious

Wound : : we gaze into ourselves and do not speak, wondering what batty thing Happened back there: we go wishing to dash away performance with a little more Laze: 5-year-old Genius. But yea. But, with you I shuffle into someone free. You

You see the curtain and you know the pianist is behind it nodding off into overdose: You are knowing what curtains mean and that curtains rarely help to cover meanings: You realize there is nothing to peek at nothing to see so you shrug and go home to

Your death, ever-approaching some more-appropriate redness , , , but the redness in The West , tho. What's with that haze that looks like the hoarsest GLARE of all: It is the shot in the arm taken too breezy, brought you to the finale, the glimpse then

Recession into embedding blank blankets of so-and-so upon your life, weighty big Deaths greeting you with comfort, delicious sating of the lorn, and raggedy willful Bravery so long perceived like an animal, that is, now seen so much to salute. So I

Have access now into your maze : it is dangerous here : bees go grinding against the Gut. Entrails that trail haphazard underneath everything forever : the flighty frolic Of your hair, sister : good on you for nvr doing hoarse/horse. Your hair that speaks

In looks looks like the bigger maze, the bigger harder hug to give one day when just , When things get better: just so one don't get bitter, what from examining all sides of The same pipe dream. DeMand, and makes thus bigger dissonance w. me. Say me,

Of your aspect, at base, nothing less, your talent is my name and sister-curse, my uh My name is one to have in spades, you gotta have it so it radically disappears under A veil mentioned elsewhere in full wherein the chase is always and never the point

As your legs, extremities exist by the disappearance of a prior location, or some Name, some name called death we get into other ideas 'bout. But it is a lost name. Bu I cannot bless more than I bleed. Whatever that means. Perhaps I tell

This to others, they do not offer but stares and blinking : oh alienation : what an Easily dismissible thing : REAL PROBLEMS hah : in that case, those girls Kidnapped in Nigeria're having real problems : suffering is subjective & hell

We, as In I, Race Towards It as anything the wiser, wise as answer, jus cast answer, Jus cast ANSWER:- whatever happen to be, jus quake out a few inappropriate Inabilities in front of anyway, including meshing: hear aspersions there, here

And there: I say, if one feels pathos then uh                              you know the whitest lash fuck express it, fuck!, don’t you                        painful on your brow                                                                              loose the snow came, bother with a perfect shape as the                   clad in crammed houses families shape you have is naturally a very          frown at homies, themselves children, improvisation, imperfect as a sky                made random and the same                                                                                 as all storm, asleep flakes or something, like, one sky, just                        made like me to feel like an actor one. i guess, uh. that is what i                                       make like to me guess. that nothing happens if we                                     within the thin walls,                                                                   while bruised dads glimpse the hood are indifferent or something. give           in rochester,   barely guap to eat, to obsession, passion etc. then uh                       my father runs into a grand jizz what follows’s a thing the greater                                  on the way back                                                                        captures it and puts it in a safe . for therapy. write on for therapy?                               his father was a vato, well fuck yes. do it and do it and                           gift-wrapping raining down do it. i like channeling whitman , ,           on christmas, wanting to capture fame                                                                                       and getting the pink slip . cuz it’a means wealth, like, iduno                    it was majestic, slowly he i guess like, [vulgate,vulgate] it    drowned in throat cancer, later. my dads hates is freewheeling all over the place                christmas, but at least he caught                                                                                     a good fuck in childhood and without regards -blank- see yu kno, i cant write on tumblr atm bc something is wrong with my uhhhhhh

keyboard. it doesn’t allow me to , ,          delete the space between one anddd             another line. so i am writing this

                                   to you. it’s probably not really i guess to interesting just see that infinitesimal cube understood so , ,

uh, distantly, as me here, in this room, hanging out with whitman! as in i see ‘im, right here. he is in

the corner smiling to himself bout some private meditation, mostttttt likely. have you figured out this

is a msg in enjambments yet?, you are really cool and ring out , , , , , , despite, right?, whether or not or

            maybe regardless. PART II : : : : ERHEM: fast sadness folds in a toilet like down it you know like those soothing squares, gulls take to the particles after response to command goes lagging, and the aqueduct explodes filter to filter after longing for more than garbage could recall, prideful trash–

garbage i done made myself blind blabhah i done made a bad hither, done dash right into the fount of degrading. i feel very such things as i feel and call them detritus still. i am monstrous i am - big eye, i can fuck myself without any charity-help from anybody.

i am to call myself things like topaz once the giddy girth sloshes within a pictureframe's modest dimensions, and the sharks while snapping snapped alive by the implied sort of movement given only to starkly imperishable images that lighten you up at the art

show. well its time t-to start from the start and start a movement founded on a ginger ignorance of other movements. is i-t: is time to start from the beginning of focus way past bemused glance, ripe glare, teeth beside themselves w cavities of roe and garlic:

it’s time to inaccurately anticipate something, like we knew it was coming and wanted our surprise to look nice. anticipate the perfect slur, find a wide audience for that: it is, uh, time to enact maelstrom considerably, like, lofted above the saddest cloud's

drenching of itself: clouds they are clowns : be sure to recognize the hidden voice, what rattles us is not the mystery of how and logical wherefore but in transmuting some odd warfare of a distant crud's finding, that is - - - it is not what links but what is explained,

which for me is the distance crud, or clod, i call planet : am i a part of it or do i depart from its frequent accusings, importances, rudeness, and flat commodity, material, or just shattered booms hailing the demise of precept got so infrequent that one, less

righteous, is more thru the confessional of the lessness, a lesson : us, , rule, , : the sea like an antelope’s stride is, that is, like the picture purely between man, shark, and sea, of slopping sides over the frames of the picture: something by movement not volume,

by not expanse but a few flits of eye - big eye, - regardless of bigness it is, is and will be there for when the ranting stays, crucial delectable bizarre 'mischance of machinery' while the self goes further out, taken by the turning tides, and then yet this is a bit more

than mangling the heart by placing it on sleeve; this will always be here, distant, or like, remote!, yeh, better word!, you will disassociate whatever

from whatever, [edittttttttttt ttt ] from your blinding clarity [edit] : : you will take an eye out for the bossman cannot : since

wills black as char make the crud, clod, dusty clod, a piece of crud: "shouldn't be so hard to have a nice day." Mutter and grimace. wake up to totally remove yourself in the only way possible, that is, from the world of dreamstate: and piss dole me a new

self of yuck and maelstrom. PART III : : drying the die out of to play craps . or somethings like pinochle of life itself, shouted madman. made anterior who wants the soul who wants it made outside of use I see. something— / something digs for a very hinting it goes like something as must to stop,

as much to save the world as self by saving declamatoriations [!!!!!] declarations yeas, declaiming . / well go ahead and rue the ensuing bratty corps of lifer’s whom stake much on image / nada -rtiet- [edit] editwrite made something is^^^ within that words

them words something letters inverted salamander-language seen spanking new by breaking every rule, ruling over breaks like you had more time. / discovering the body, etc. and it all makes you want to imprint on the wise world some attmept, to do more

by removal of sense if sense is not snuffed out already by now in this senseless world, just going on and on!!!! to the creakiest hints shuffling under floorboards like captives from the bad!! quite the soul search. make more inklings, don't harry yourself, I say,

to discover a bunch of cool shit, also, uh, master it. master thinking in language. maybe i always never did nitpick and nitpick only yeup that is me I knit together the nits the nits are scratchiness, a scratchiness. then I think about how nice honesty is as re the slow

deliverance or rather sparing of us all by the most high / as by and by,, we grope for some bigger socket to launch a sensitivity of me I we errybody into, and me and ha and ha. ALERT. cannot diverge ALERT ALERT ALERT!!! Whoop show./Whopp whoop

whoop, can’t but take it down I wsiwiwsh i wish i was blind, i wish the rails weren’t so sharky : : so bloome [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 5$%uh September 13, 2014. Leave a comment Edit POME34 there is language to report, a monster essence. hammer away

and believe till the growth gets funnier and then throw it away handsomely / feel it run like sand thurr rthru your thru thru you[edit]hrought your fineger.s ample tome, im ean time, to write, requite certain disposable nothings like a big random power/ mind goes

and glowers at itself again. ah you kno. broken triangle. anything broken becomes an angle or many. a ziggidy line or somesuch. / so break a whole, rift it to life as some ziggidy line. some sorta line that breathes with uncaring for anything like information

but retaineing formless form as if your occupation was with something else/ let relax the

strands in you ankel, let the angel fall my dear / dont deny it / yur a good person, dammit. all the se facile blunders. all this. these stupid years of making. in the making,

or just making, about too. etc. greqat. great magnificent quiet [edit] is that which i search for and make and build into the most complex geometric shape for good / only to rift it and - - make what people would holy-fy even more bettr than the more better it was /

bby oh how you go on concealing pleanty of plaintiveness. am i nice ?? so what if you are. youre a stara special star . . . yr starved, strande line you ssay you are a bulk of issues you say you dance like a man made

of things .. light as wing . dwindle. wind. light as wind. so much so much to destroy sitll. my eyes need more blurs t[edit] to in order make everything wrong rightwise. foreget aspbergers. or any label / speak pretty

mane’s ruffling sinousity in wind. / a bloke with flow / gnarly [edit] speak charlie stude the sirfur, charlie stud is he who rides the wave, rides wthe wave in /by just meeting

wit ha hello and a hahaha at ripe ombustive ripe combustiveness at / a large offense

#writing #poetry

[vagaries-and-caprices-blog]

Notes on the Hugh Dancy oeuvre: “The Big C” (TV Series, 2011)

Part 3 of 3

(part 1) (part 2)

Recap

[Ep. 8] Lee Fallon celebrates Thanksgiving at Cathy Jamison’s home. When he finds out she has been lying to him (by hiding how well she is doing in the clinical trial), he has a hissy fit and storms out of the house.

[Ep. 10] Lee jogs, but looks sickly and hollow-eyed. Hugh performs the Cinematic Coughs of Death. Cathy and Lee drink a 2007 Chateau Lafite Rothschild and she offers up her tits for his gay bucket list.

[Ep. 11] Lee/Hugh now looks much thinner, has dark circles under his eyes, is visibly tired. He amps up the dramatic coughing. Lee tells Cathy he won’t be continuing treatment and is preparing for death. She buys Lee a plane ticket to Germany for a new clinical trial. When he refuses to go, she storms out of his apartment.

[Ep. 12] Lee dies (event accorded proper reverence below).

[Ep. 13] As Cathy finishes the marathon she is running in Lee’s honor, Lee shows up as a vision to say “Thank you.”

Attention Literature Majors: Allusion Amber Alert

In Episode 10, Lee says (as he opens a new bottle of wine), “Well, the first bottle is to spoil our senses and the second bottle is just to keep the buzz going.” At “spoil our senses,” a very loud bird starts flapping around my brain. But I can’t catch it. Perhaps the concept is so ancient/common in poetry that there is no single quote to point to. The closest I can get is “Love and Folly” (a poem possibly by Thomas Tickell):

The Fair have spoil’d far better Sense than this. Among their Vassals, patient take thy Place, And be an Idiot with a truer Grace.

“Spoil our senses” also brings to mind Nicolas Cage in “Moonstruck”:

Ronny Cammareri: […] We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and get in my bed!

Episode 12, The Darkest Day

Ready for The Death? First, we need to replace the Lee Fallon dying pop song used in the episode (“The Last Day on Earth”) with something that befits Hugh Dancy pretending to die of cancer. In honor of Lee Fallon’s New Orleans roots, we could go with Robbie Robertson’s “Sign of the Rainbow” (from “Storyville”). Another option: Etta James, “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long.” But the song that I hope you will cue up before you read on is Donny Hathaway’s “Giving Up.”

Got it?

Lee calls Cathy and asks her to come over. Lee/Hugh is very thin, ribs showing, although even dying of cancer he glows with maddening health and creamy porelessness. He is propped up awkwardly on pillows, his head bowed at a strange angle. He’s wearing only sweatpants. I’m thinking: Isn’t he cold? Get a blanket on him! What’s that growth on his left nipple? He should have that looked at. Then Cathy grasps his hand in both of hers and looks pleadingly into his eyes. And, D’oh! La Pietà!

(Sebastiano del Piombo)

Lee: Is it December 21st? Cathy: It is. Lee: Darkest day. Tomorrow more sun.

Lee [dying]: I think I might go now.

Refracted motes of light illuminate Hugh beautifully being-a-corpse. Cathy cries. I’m crying, too, but not for the reason you might think. 

Imagine you are just entering puberty in 1979 and you go to see Frank Langella in “Dracula” on Broadway. He was in his early 40s then, just about the same age as Hugh Dancy is now. And he looked like this (mentally add cape and fangs):

A goth-sensitive, pubescent young person left the theater in a state of heated bliss. Now, imagine that a few decades pass. You casually watch Frank Langella get older. You get older. You watch him play Gabriel on “The Americans.” But you don’t see him only as he is now, almost 80, you see his being, his lips, his eyes, hear his voice as those of the man you responded to so vividly almost 40 years ago. Frank Langella lives eternally in the youth’s heart and brings forth youthful remembrances. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that “the remembrance of these visions outlasts all other remembrances, and is a wreath of flowers on the oldest brows.”

While watching Lee Fallon’s Pietà scene, I imagined actual person Hugh Dancy getting cancer (or being hit by a New York City taxicab). We are suddenly deprived of watching him act over the next 30 or 40 years, deprived of watching him mature into a later Frank Langella, Paul Newman, Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Christopher Plummer, Ian McKellen, Laurence Olivier, Alec Guinness…and denied the pleasure of bringing forward—uninterrupted through time—the memories of him now, memories of which will be mellower yet finer as they age.

I work myself up a bit and start weeping. It’s a super satisfying cry, if you’re in the mood for that sort of thing.

Worth watching level: Pour yourself a big glass of wine, punch up some Donny Hathaway, think lots of sad thoughts, and get out the tissues.

#the big c #notes on the oeuvre #hugh dancy #acting! #lee fallon #frank langella #dracula #sebastiano del piombo #la pietà

[temperanceofsleep]

TV highway littered Trance

In the past ten years of extended life on the road, traveling from coast to coast and sleeping in both the wilderness and the big cities I have noticed an uncomfortable and warp speed growth of advertisements and cell phone towers littering the interstates. Most people may not even care or notice- but I have watched the beautiful empty prairies, the roaring seasides, the vast void of deserts, and the majestic mountains all be littered with human waste and glaring signposts hovering above urging you to buy even MORE. There are camera's now on every other cell tower or small electrical unit I see- constantly being monitored online, and in real life. Where are you going? What can we sell you? What lazy poison of lavish luxury and gluttony can we offer you today to disguise your eternal slavery? There is no freedom, no reprieve from the noise. I took a mini trip last week, went camping deep in the woods. My dreams were vivid, uninterrupted. It rained every night. I heard wild animals howling in laughter. As it all should be. Before coming back home I stayed in a hotel room, the only place I ever watch cable TV. It literally made me feel sick, and this isn't to be dramatic or to talk down on anyone it just doesn't make sense to me why anyone still buys into this badly crafted illusion of bullshit. Every single thing we are sold and given to watch, listen to, eat, drink, fuck, or believe in is a LIE. Hollywood and western-centric European lifestyle obsessions has made this entire planet sick beyond belief. Soul and spirit and magic have been sucked dry and replaced with vapid forms of entertainment to keep the masses in a hypnotic trance, gladly eating the poison rotting their brains. Born into a cage, infiltrated from conception with lies given as truth- a quiet tyranny masked as compassion and convenience. You see an advertisement, a security camera, an endless rape of the land for more cell phone towers and oil rigs- I see nothing but blood. It is time more than ever to wake up. You don't need new sheets or a nice outfit, you don't need to go out to eat every week, you don't need a smart phone or smart TV, you don't need useless toxic relationships and the useless toxic sex & drama that comes with them, you don't need drugs and alcohol, you don't need petty friends or all those trinkets to show what kind of individual you are-- you need to wake the fuck up NOW before your soul is completely wiped away. They lied to us all, we are angels in disguise- more powerful than we could ever comprehend and our heavenly garden here on earth has been set ablaze and defiled. We have assisted in our own demise through our comfortable servitude. It is time to take responsibility for ourselves. This existence isn't supposed to be working 9-5, having a manicured house/family/lawn, making sure you vote and "do your part", and plugging your brain into the TV or phone or computer to emulate and absorb whatever Hollywood tells you to while you shove manmade chemicals into your mouth and call it sustenance. Cognitive dissonance propels the ego into defending this "life" as if anyone actually pursuing any facet of modern societal lifestyles is fucking happy. Stop lying to yourself.

WAKE UP.

#words #anti celebrity #anti establishment #anti capitalism #political spiritual rebellion #spiritual warfare #anarchy

[thehostilegospel]

Soulmate(s)

Every now and then I read old writings I haven't shared or purposely didn’t finish. A few years ago I began to write about the concept of a soulmate and how I’m sure I met mine while out of town for work in 2011. I didn’t finish it and I won’t share it. We only spent two weeks together and never saw each other after that. During those two weeks we would sneak away from anything work related and bonded in this cosmic way. I’ve been searching for that feeling every since. I’ve failed miserably. Now that I think about it, him setting the bar so high in those two weeks could be one of the many reasons I’ve been single for so long. 

We always kept in contact and would entertain the idea of meeting up but neither of us were really serious about it, obviously. We had our own complicated lives to live and we just kept it at that. We have a mutual understanding that what we have is sacred, we get each other, we have love for each other, we trust each other, but we will never have each other. Not in this lifetime, at least. But in the next one, I’ll be waiting like clockwork and I’ll certainly know it’s him by the feel of it.

Anyways, this isn’t about him. I preface with this to better explain my views on what it means to have a soulmate/s. For some reason we’ve been made to believe that our soulmate is one person we are romantically involved with. They’re placed on this Earth specifically for us and it's only one person. I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. They are friends. They are family. They are children. They are lovers. They are people we cross paths with to experience God on a more amplified level. And sometimes that means we only have them for a fixed amount of time. Thus, I think our view on seeking a soulmate needs to change. Our view on seeking anything needs to change. When you know, you just know and you just let that shit happen.

Recently I broke down and put together how Dallas (I have a sperate writing about DDD I’ll post at a separate time), church and basketball has brought me to the closest people in my life, who I view as my soulmates. Long story short, In the 3rd grade I played basketball for Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship in Dallas, TX. This was my introduction to organized basketball which stuck with me long enough to never go a year without playing. By my freshman year of high school I wasn’t making the best decisions and my parents thought it would be best to pull me out of that environment and enrolled me in a private Christian school. I was ready to rebel that whole year. But I knew one thing for sure, I was hooping no matter where I went. I met Briana and Destiny that year. I was from the Eastside, Destiny was from the Westside, Briana was from North Town and we all had three things in common... Our parents forced us to come to this whack private school, we thought everyone there was lame, and we played basketball. We instantly bonded over that. I’ve picked apart how many of my soulmates have blossomed through that one encounter with those two. So here is a letter to each of you who hold a great deal of space in my heart...

Ava

I wish I didn’t have to start this off with you because it instantly makes me want to cry. Just thinking about how small you used to be and the little person you are now is insane to think about. In just 9 years on this Earth you have been such a pillar for all of us. You have been one of the main reasons we had to grow up. I have to constantly remind myself that you’re so ahead of your time because you grew up with us while we were still growing up. I still remember the first time you said my name when you were a baby as I was leaving for work. You amaze me every time I see you. You are so freakin smart and head strong. Your mom has done such an amazing job with raising and providing for you. I am so proud of the little girl you have grown to be and I don’t worry about you one bit. I know you will grow into a young lady who stands firm in what she believes, loves people, and will excel in whatever you decide to do. You just make sure you step into your role as a leader and handle your handle. Also, I still lowkey hope you decide to play basketball one day. Me and BB tried our best to make you a lefty when you were a baby so you could be a shooter. Didn’t really work out but I hope you surprise us in the next few years. You are the reason for us all ❤️

Bre

My God, my God. Where do I even start with you? I guess August, 2004 is a good spot. Girl, that one game you got suspended and I had to run the court without you, I knew I couldn’t ever be without you again! You have been my left and my right on and off the court every since. I can still hear you yelling, “I’m rolling with you!” after a fast break just to remind me I wasn’t out there alone. I knew if you were by my side, I was safe. And I still feel that way 15 years later. You are truly my soulmate. We have cried. We have laughed until we cried. We have been drunk off of our asses. We have traveled different countries. We have been ready to fight everybody with our bad attitudes and terrible mouths. YOU. GET. ME. And there is not a thing I’m more grateful for in this world than simply that. I have seen you grow into such an amazing woman. First a wife, and now a mother. You inspire me more than you will ever know. I knew from the moment we met that you would be more than just my teammate. You have stuck with me through and through and I know that won't EVER change. You and your family have loved me like I was blood and I can never thank you enough for that. You are my home and I love you, eternally. I am so proud of you. I love to see the stars in your eyes when you look at Kwame. You make me feel like maybe I can be a mother, too ❤️

Brian

You got the hell out of Vegas after graduation and I don't blame you one bit! You have been doing your thing every since and it is truly inspiring! I feel like we bonded more once I moved to Texas, and I’m extremely grateful for that. We’re similar in a lot of ways with our introverted personalities and our musical taste. You are truly a stand up dude and I appreciate every bit of you! Continue to keep setting and accomplishing goals. You deserve every blessing that is written in the stars for you. Also, I’m getting the itch to go sky diving again 👀

Cheric

Oh, Cedric 😂 Where do I begin? Initially we called you the “Curtain knocker downer” because you knocked down Mrs. Crystals Curtains up stairs hahaha. You probably don't remember that, but we do. Man, you have been one solid brotha for all of us. I may not say it enough, but I appreciate you so much. We all appreciate you. For never switching up. For always being there. And for always being down to get freakin faded! haha You are one of the few men I know I can always depend on no matter the circumstances. You always come through and you always have our back. Thank you for staying down. Stay focused on your goals and handle your business. One day my mom is gonna call you Cheric and not Cedric 😂

Des

My dawwwwwwg! I knew when I met you in Mrs. Bakers class that we were gonna be down for life. Man, I am so freakin proud of you! You are one of one. I will never have to worry about you making shit happen. EVER. You will always find a way. A way to be creative. A way to make money. A way to network. A way to connect with people. A way to make people feel comfortable. You have been an all around dope ass human being from day one. Sometimes I don’t know how I have a friend as cool as you. You probably are the coolest person I’ve ever known in my whole life hahaha. I have seen you grow so much over the past 15 years and step into who you are today, unapologetically. And it is SO inspiring. You make me so proud! You command any room you go into, no matter the crowd. You are always poised. You always make friends. You are always you. And I appreciate that about you the most. You have been there for me since I was 14. We’re about to be 30, dawg! I couldn’t ask God for a better partner in crime. I have seen you work your ass off for the things that you want and not complain about it one bit. You are the epitome of a hard worker and a rider. Thank you for being by my side throughout these years. Thank you for the advice, the late night convos, and being an all around whole ass person from day one. You inspire me through and through. I love you!

Julian

Oh, the Colombian/Italian brother from another. You are the only person who stuck around from Trinity hahah. I can’t remember how or when we all got so close, but you belonged with us! You have grown into such a handsome and hardworking man. I’ll never have to worry about you making a way. You always have a plan and you always execute. And your musical taste is IMPECABLE! You are so debonair and you always make shit happen. I’m thankful to have you on my team. You always come through when I need you, no matter the cause. I’m so proud of the man you’ve grown to be over the last 15 years. I can’t wait to see how you flourish over the next 15. With you, I know I’ll always have someone to ride around the city, listen to music, and hike with. Stay focused and don’t compromise. Thank you for being you.

Kwame

My beautiful bubbly God Son! Oh, you bring so much light to us all! You can’t read yet, but that won’t stop me from telling you how loved you are. You came along at such a necessary time for all of us. You are such a little inquisitive warrior and I love seeing the little baby you grow to be.  Forgive me for not being there for every bit of your growth, but I’m trying my best. My biggest fear is that I spend too much time away from you and you don’t remember who I am 😕 But I’m so happy I was there to witness your first steps. Thank you for saving that until I was home, Kwammy Kwam ❤️ You are here for a reason. And although I’d love to think that you’re here to bring us all the joy, I know you will grow up to have a true and divine purpose. You have that purpose now and I can’t wait to see it manifest. I also can’t wait to see if you’re weird like your Mom or weird like your Dad. We love you, Ekpoudia!

Lulu

Although you aren’t last on the list, I had to write yours last because there is just so much to say. But I’ll start when you traveled with us to Pahranagat for a basketball tournament (Yea, I got a memory like an Elephant). You didn’t even go to school with us and you sure as hell didn’t hoop hahah. But you were always around making us laugh. After we graduated high school, we became extremely close and we’ve been thick as thieves every since. There are things we get about one another that no one else will probably understand. Our sense of independence and solitude while simultaneously desiring what we know we deserve. And refusing to settle for anything less. If there is no one in the world that understands me and my mess, I know you understand me. I have seen you work your ass off while providing for Ava, even before she was born. You have not only been a mom for Ava, but really a mom for all of us. You are always taking care of us, feeding us, problem solving, listening, and putting together the best game nights and family functions. I used to joke with you and tell you that you could never leave that house because that was the only home I had. But the reality is that home will be wherever you are. You are one of the strongest people (not women) I know. You keep a lot of us together, and I don’t think you know it. You have done such an amazing job raising Ava and it shows. She is destined to be a remarkable young lady. Hell, she already is. Lu, you deserve all the love and security you give to all of us. You are an amazing woman and you inspire me each day through your love and grace. Keep working towards your goals and get shit done per usual. I love you. 

Mikey

You save lives, homeboy! You have been the funniest person I’ve known since you were in middle school. Til this day, I tell people your jokes/quotes because that's how funny you are! In a world where there is so much turmoil and chaos, I always know that when you’re around, we’ll all end up crying from laughter. I’ve also seen you grow from a little kid who clapped his feet together when he would shoot a jumper to a whole ass man who is handling his business! Stay creative through the music and the jokes. You are appreciated!

Mrs. Crystal

You have been a second mother to me and welcomed me into your family without hesitation. Thank you for loving me like I was one of your own. More than anything, thank you for being the matriarch and birthing 4 of the most amazing people in my life. They have kept me kicking, laughing, drinking, and loving. You are so appreciated ❤️

A few months ago after Kwame’s birthday, I left the house to “go to the store” and all my soulmates were there (Brian was on Facetime at some point lol). I came back and walked in and Biggy’s “One More Chance” was playing on Mikey’s turn tables. I will never forget how it felt to walk into that energy. It brought tears to my eyes. That was home. Y’all are home. I believe that I’m so content with my solitude because I have everyone that I need. Yall are everything that I need. Anyone else is just an accent.

Thank you for loving me. 

[crystalelemental]

And now the other completed game: Fire Emblem Echoes.  I’ve mentioned this many, many times before, but I hated Fates, and honestly expected this game to not be doing much better.  Fates just left such a terrible taste in my mouth, and no, I will never shut up about how bad it was.  Thankfully, Echoes did a lot right, and seems to have fixed a lot of issues while incorporating elements of the last two games.

Let’s start with the big stand-out: weapon durability is still gone, but is done in a way that it’s the stupidest bullshit I’ve ever seen.  Weapons don’t break, and instead offer a change in stats, usually higher power or defense in exchange for speed.  It’s a really cool way to handle things, and it allows for there to be stronger weapon types available without having such horrific drawbacks that they’re worthless.  There’s still a forge mechanic, but it’s straight-forward again and only needs money instead of eleventy-fuckbillion pieces of the same arbitrary resource you have to collect two at a time of by visiting thousands of people over My Castle.  It’s just a simple, straight-forward mechanic that isn’t complete bullshit.

Also relevant: magic.  Magic is forever, but takes some of your health.  To balance that out, it is unaffected by terrain, but also has a flat accuracy so it will miss more often than an accurate weapon when there’s no evasion bonus.  Healers work differently, in that their base spell absorbs damage, but has a lower hit rate.  As a result, there are some incredible tactics that happen in this game, where Mages use magic to blast holes in enemies, and your healing units recover them at the cost of their own HP, only to heal back up periodically.  A cleric with enough HP and Defense may as well be immortal.  So basically, Faye.  Faye as a cleric is ridiculous.  Also any of them with a Dracoshield.  They’re not even using that speed stat.  Physical attackers are straight-forward, but often lack resistance, so they have trouble with things in the late-game.  Except the Dread Fighters, who tear through magic attackers like tissue paper, but struggle against physical attackers.  There’s just such a wide range of unique skills that each unit type has, and they mesh together really well.  I have to admit, as much as I get invested in min-maxing child skills and stats in Awakening, I much prefer this type of skill system, where characters have different lists of spells and classes have different innate abilities, or learn them through the use of new weapons.

I’m not the biggest fan of gender-exclusive classes, though.  Pegasus Knight is really the only one that ever made sense, and even then I’m fine with removing it as a gender-locked thing.  What’s really stupid is that Archer is male-only.  Faye’s introduction was in Heroes, where she was an archer.  Get it together, game.

The other big sticking point, for me, is stat growth and stat caps.  Look, if growths are going to be low, that’s fine.  I’m actually on-board for this kind of setup.  But stat caps should not have been at like 40.  They should be around 30, at best.  Set limits where they’re achievable, game, otherwise I can and will go insane trying to get people to their stat caps.

Then there’s promotions.  Promotions work by adjusting the base stats of a unit to meet the class’ base stats.  So if adjusting to a Mercenary, you gain enough speed to hit 10.  If you already have those stats, then promotion gains like 1 point of HP and nothing else.  It’s an interesting mechanic...but resistance isn’t factored in.  I feel like that’s a really shitty limitation.  Resistance is the stat most needed, and yet it doesn’t adjust at all when promoting.  So even with the classes sometimes having like 10 base resistance, they don’t ever gain resistance to meet that.  The ONE STAT where this would be super useful, and it doesn’t happen.  Ridiculous.

On to characters.  I actually liked a lot of them!  Favoritism goes to, interestingly enough, Tatiana and Zeke.  Aside from being really solid units, the two of them have a great romance, with a good amount of sorrow behind it.  There’s a lot going on with these two and their relationship, and I like it a lot.  Genny is also fantastic, being a fairly quirky kid who likes to write her own stories of intrigue.  Clair is great, being the right kind of stuffy noble who means well.  Celica is arguably my favorite Fire Emblem lord now, but is held back pretty significantly by a thing I’ll talk about later.  And of course, outside of the protagonists, we have Berkut and Rinea, who are just...an excellent amount of suffering.  Characters as a whole just felt really good this time around.

Then there is story.  I’ll start with the world at large: I love Valentia.  I think the concept of two kingdoms ruled through different philosophies both going into the shitter for different reasons related to their respective ideals is fantastic.  Rigel is a shithole that’s so over-focused on strength that is has become all that matters.  Their clergy are sacrificing women for greater power and eternal youth, turning the sacrifices into soulless husks of great magical power.  Their nobility is so power-obsessed that defeat results in a complete existential crisis and a devastating blow to Berkut’s sense of self-worth.  By comparison, Zofia kinda just languishes away in its bounty, while the nobles become a bunch of entitled snobs that approach life with the sense that they’ve earned their positions just for showing up.  Fernand is a great example of this, being outraged that Alm would lead the Deliverance despite his talents and skills, and insisting that he and Clive should lead simply because they are nobility and that is their right.  The contrast between things is exceptional in the early-game, and I love it.

The story itself is that Rigel has invaded, and the land of Zofia is kinda falling apart without Mila’s bounty.  Alm is on the war-path to defeat the emperor of Rigel and restore peace, while Celica is on the path to find Mila and restore order to Zofia.  Having the two lords go down separate paths is an interesting way to handle things, and I get a vibe of an improved Radiant Dawn, where you actually follow multiple paths simultaneously.

One major, major problem I have is for Celica herself in terms of story.  It’s apparently a component that was added in this game, and I really do not like it.  The ending of her route.  She goes along with Jedah, and becomes a witch.  Now...on its own, this is stupid enough, falling for the age-old “go with what the villain says or he’ll hurt people” as if they ever had the intention of keeping their side of the promise.  And then, as if that stupid gambit wasn’t enough, Falchion is able to stab her, and somehow restore her soul so that the witchification process is reversed.  Because that makes sense.  It’s just such a contrived load of bullshit, and honestly, because it comes from Celica being an idiot, it all comes back to a stupid way to handle her actions.  Which is the main thing holding her back, I think.  Which is a shame.

Also, on a more minor note, did anyone notice how many female characters have to be rescued to join your ranks?  Clair, Mathilda, Delthea, Est, Tatiana...  It’s a lot.  Too many, I think.  I could be fine with one or two.  But that’s five off the top of my head, and I am certain there are others.  It’s really not good.

Overall though, I loved the game, and is definitely better than Fates.  Possibly good enough to be my favorite since FE7.  It’s such a great return to form, and has such a unique and interesting magic system.  I really enjoyed just about everything about this entry, and I sincerely hope this is an indication of the direction the series will take from here on out.  Not necessarily in terms of mechanics, but definitely in terms of story, characters, and decision of art and translation team.

#fire emblem echoes

[forceyourway]

Tree of Life Shadow Work Challenge

Day Ten: “What aspects of my religious background might I benefit from taking into consideration?”

(Using Loki’s tarot deck, “The Raven’s Prophecy Tarot”) So I had every day pre-drawn, so I don’t repeat cards or anything, but I seem to have accidentally deleted the picture of all the cards. I guess I’ll be drawing day-by-day now. Expect repeats and sudden multiple-card spreads.

Seven of Cups - This is about wishful thinking and temptation; multiple paths lie ahead, but some of them are only imagined. This doesn’t refer to Christianity, but to where I am right now. “My religious background” can easily be replaced with “fate,” for clarity. I have been thinking a lot lately about this Shadow Work, and in some ways, it has done less for me than I would have thought. I’m pretty sure I know where I’m going right now, but what if I’m wrong? If I’m wrong, my whole world comes crashing down. I won’t be able to see myself in the future. It’s scary. I need to start thinking of a “Plan B,” just in case/ The Seven of Cups is also a warning that I not choose instant gratification before what I need.

Religion - Belief, Ideals, Morality

Reflect on your religious background. How devoted to religious and/or spiritual practices were you/was your family? What sort of ideals were upheld? What was considered right and wrong? What was the underlying theme that accompanied the concept of religion for you– how did it make you feel? Did you find it comforting, assuring, manipulative, foolhardy? How did your religious background make you feel as a person? How have these factors impacted how you experience religion now?

I was raised Catholic. We didn’t practice much, but every now and then there would be church, and I’ve gone to Sunday school and a religious summer camp sort of thing, and been enrolled in Catholic schools twice. Also, my great-uncle was a priest. So religion was a thing, even if it wasn’t a thing. My parents were not very religious, but religious enough that anyone non-Catholic (or even non-Christian) was to be viewed with extreme suspicion, and they were big on sin. My dad in particular would reference the Ten Commandments a lot, especially “Honor Thy Father and Mother,” which I took as bullshit. My parents are abusive, and I wanted nothing to do with any god who would make me okay with that. The other points I questioned I will make bullet-points for, because otherwise this will get very long and jump all over the place:

Baptism - I didn’t like the concept of baptism, because it is very often done when one is a baby, so they can hardly consent to the procedure. I didn’t like that I had been baptized in a faith I wanted nothing to do with. Recently, I was invited to attend my friend’s (baby’s?) Christening, and I did, for my friend, and for the child. I was really surprised by how many “vows” were being made, and without the consent of the child. I don’t even like the idea of pushing religious books/media/etc. on children, because I think it’s done with the intention of conversion. But now, being Kemetic, and loving being Kemetic, I would love to have a Kemetic child. I can see their room, with plush jackals and Weegyptians and dolls made to look like the gods, and I love it. “Baby’s First Shrine.” And I’m writing Baby Pagan books! I’m starting to understand the appeal of things like Baptism and having religiously-themed children’s stuff; it’s going to be hard to keep myself from pushing my faith onto my children. I’ll continue to practice my faith around them, but refrain as much as possible from trying to coerce conversion. KO has a thing called Rootnaming, where your child can receive a name within the faith, a sort of pre-Shemsu name. It seems common to do Rootnaming after the birth of a child, and I really want to, but I’m gonna try to hold out until they’re old enough to say “I wanna get Rootnamed.”

Confession - I was always very uncomfortable with confession, because I didn’t want to acknowledge my sins, nevermind announce them to someone else. I was always meek and mumbling and “Well, you know, stuff” in Confession. I suppose I also found it a bit strange that Confession was supposed to sort of absolve your sins, because some sins are very big and very impactful, and I don’t see how saying 5 “Hail Mary”s can negate that. I kind of like the idea of Confession, because I can see value in admitting one’s faults. Acknowledgement leads to change, and change leads to growth. But I don’t think it should ever be mandatory. That sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?

Original Sin - I never liked the concept of Original Sin; I thought it was unfair that everyone should start out in life with the chips stacked against them, because someone else did something bad. I also found the idea of condemning unbaptized babies to Hell - or even Purgatory - extremely disturbing, because you don’t get more innocent than that.

The concept of Hell - I was confused about Hell, because I was always told that when people did bad things, that’s where they’d go. But Hell was supposed to be eternal torment, and if God really does love everyone, how could Hell exist? I was terrified of going to Hell, and my mother was always pushing that idea on me. I had - and have - nightmares about it still. And if people were punished for doing bad things, when bad things happened to me, I must have deserved it. It took a long time to shake off that feeling of guilt, because my life is unusually chaotic, and peppered with constant disaster. Meeting my gods really helped me kick this way of thinking, because I can see themselves in me. I can understand why I’m constantly sucked into conflict, and from that, I will grow.

"Let he without sin cast the first stone” - My dad would bring this out if he was ever accused of doing something wrong, or if he was defending someone else when they did something wrong. It seems to me just a convenient way of blame-shifting, for the purpose of deescalating conflict, and so he doesn’t need to look at himself. Seems like a fancy way to say “No, you!”

#Tree of Life Shadow Work Challenge #Tarot #Divination #Divination Challenges #@unmaskingthedivine #Christianity #Spiritual Abuse #Child Abuse

[ariswrites]

just a stupid deleted intro from laugh til i cry with some more magical context i’ll probably write into the upcoming chapter+ short stories.

i ended up replacing it 100% because i realised i didn’t have enough time to write something that was big enough to suit the magnitude of what i was introducing here 

Kuroo’s more dark, than not.

It isn’t something he considers prevalent throughout his early childhood. There’s very little indication of magic type before maturation despite the stereotypes others enjoy to perpetuate – he isn’t inclined towards any particular behaviours, but his mother’s friends joke about his fieriness, gift him red beaded jewellery on the salient celebratory dates his kind consider important. His mother is always gentle towards this, laughs along with them and scruffs his hair when the bracelets slide off his small hands, wrists too small for the adult decorations. She folds the bracelet in half, fitting it around his wrist twice to secure it, catches his gaze with the contrast in the shades. She tells him, in soft tones when her friends are gone, that she’d never expect a colour from him. That any magic is a gift. That his colour is not him.

Red is an offensive magic. Something which flares and simmers, something his mother embeds in her rings and necklaces. Magic isn’t bound by something as concrete as genes, and while family trends are considered common, the opposite is far from rare. Magic picks the host, and though it is innate to his lineage, it is notoriously picky about the compatibility of the life force it bonds with. Lessons on the topic are vague until he becomes older, but elementary teachers throw around terms of personality, of souls.

Somehow, this is easier than the truth.

The Kuroos present early, as magic ability goes, and the affair is quiet and small. An imbued statue of a shifter kneeling in prayer is brought to their home, laid out in the main room and surrounded by spice-laden candles, remnants of their more individualistic cultural roots.  The hands of the statue are stained with colour, with rainbow, metallic sheens that catch the light above, dulled down to its lowest to allow the candle light to glow headily. It’s a simple ceremony, over in minutes. He is cut, he bleeds, and the colour that wells forth in the statue’s hands is the magic type he possesses.

So, his mother comes forward, and cuts across the lifeline of his palm in two. His hand is held over the cupped palms of the praying idol, and he bleeds out into the waiting metal.

Her grip on his wrist tightens.

Dully, he notes none of the bracelets his family brought were going to match.

and alternate start number 2:

which was scrapped bc... i didn’t like where it was going. but this is mainly cannibalized for the current version

Kuroo’s more dark, than not.

 It isn’t something he considers prevalent throughout his early childhood. There’s very little indication of magic type before maturation despite the stereotypes others enjoy to perpetuate – he isn’t inclined towards any particular behaviours, but his mother’s friends joke about his fieriness, gift him red beaded jewellery on the salient celebratory dates his kind consider important. His mother is always gentle towards this, laughs along with them and scruffs his hair when the bracelets slide off his small hands, wrists too small for the adult decorations. She folds the bracelet in half, fitting it around his wrist twice to secure it, catches his gaze with the contrast in the shades. She tells him, in soft tones when her friends are gone, that she’d never expect a colour from him. That any magic is a gift. That his colour is not him.

Red is an offensive magic. Something which flares and simmers, something his mother embeds in her rings and necklaces. Magic isn’t bound by something as concrete as genes, and while family trends are considered common, the opposite is far from rare. Magic picks the host, and though it is innate to shifters, it is notoriously picky about the compatibility of the life force it bonds with. Lessons on the topic are vague until he becomes older, but elementary teachers throw around terms of personality, of souls.

 Somehow, this is easier than the truth.

 (Kuroo dreads to think of the fallout of this, dreads to think of the others like him, the ones who grew up believing their magic type matches their aptitude, that they are inherently one way or another because of the spectrum among their blood. Who think they are bad, or violent, or those who grew up trying so hard to fit a predestined role.

 He knows its bullshit. Magic cares not for personality, for soul, merely for energy exchange and balance. Concepts beyond the knowledge of their cultures conception.

 He knows and he hates it, hates it because he still believes it, somewhere. )

 The Kuroos present early, as magic ability goes, and the affair is quiet and small. An imbued statue of a shifter kneeling in prayer is brought to their home, laid out in the main room and surrounded by spice-laden candles, remnants of their more individualistic cultural roots.  The hands of the statue are stained with colour, with rainbow, metallic sheens that catch the light above, dulled down to its lowest to allow the candle light to glow headily. It’s a simple ceremony, over in minutes. He is hurt, he bleeds, and the colour that wells forth in the statue’s hands is the magic type he possesses.

 So, his mother comes forward, and cuts across the lifeline of his palm in two. His hand is held over the cupped palms of the praying idol, and he bleeds out into the waiting metal.

 Her grip on his wrist tightens. He notes, in the next few moments of silence, that no pre-prepared bracelet quite matches his hue. He remembers this quietness in every moment of self-reflection, this delicate, soundless pause as those around crane their necks and push up on their toes to peer into the tiny, coppery hands. It is the chorus of expectation, one that fades to disappointment, to resentment. A kind that lapses into another, longer and longer, until his mother grip draws more blood from him, nails still upshifted.

 She apologies, afterwards. Smooths a plaster over the indents, a ribbon across his palm. They don’t scar, scab over in a few hours, but he recalls them as the last time a wound would decorate his skin for longer than a day, the final lasting damage. As reminders – he knows what he is.

 More dark than not, and it’s undercurrents. Deep river running far beneath the earth’s crust, ancient tunnels carved from drops and tears and waterfalls, hallowed passages lost in the blurry nowhere between surface and core. Bone dust and minerals, thick oils, sand so fine and cold soft skin, preserved in stale air. There are glimpses in caves and oceans, oozing water from flesh wounds which, among the plasma, carry with it shivers from far below, a chilled unrest palatable only under the sting of salt and iron.

 This is where he finds it again within himself, years later. A place just out of reach of his nails, further even than his claws dream to tear through. Somewhere so dark he must bleed for hours to feel it slipping from him, and even in that instances only ever in the tiniest slivers. As if, somewhere between his split veins and his heart, it has slipped away through thin membrane. Buries deep within lymph nodes, nestles beneath organs. It matters not how many layers he tears through reaching within, how much blood is spilt down his thighs, how much he shakes and shivers and sweats, pale and determined on the bathroom floor.

 It doesn’t matter, because he can’t ever carve it out.

 (Because it’s part of him. Protected alongside marrow, integrated in every blood cells sense of self. Integral to his functioning. The bitterness beneath his teeth, the sourness on his tongue.

 Here, fingertips red, warmth dripping to pool sluggishly in his palm, between his knuckles in ruddy ribbons; here is where he stops. And he asks himself;

 What am I trying to kill, really?)

  ++++++

 He keeps this inside.

 There are few of his ilk, and they keep to themselves. Understandably. The polars of energy, black and white, are not considered favourably. Just like red magic is considered offensive, polar magics are thought to be universal. Jack of all trades, masters of none, and that is only the mocking undercurrent recent attitudes have brought about – historically, culturally, they are significant. Bringers of life and death, decay where there is growth. A balancing energy, a magic that enhances and inhibits, a tradition that is marred by prejudice and folk tales –

 Kuroo is a bringer of death. It’s supposed to be an honour, to carry those to death, to eternal rest, to escort them with soft words and tendrils of his being to where their next life lays; instead, he never sees his grandparents again. Instead, his family talks around him, do not visit as often - leave his mother isolated, a guilt in his heart he can’t outgrow.

 In folk tales, he rips life from the hands of innocents. In reality, he rips into himself.

 Because the old traditions are too old now. Because the new thinking is still too new.

 It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and he doesn’t wear his ribbons and bracelets and necklaces like his species is prone too. Cats adore their varied bloodlines, their versatile mixing, but Kuroo only ever worries over the exceptions. He’d love to say it’s a statement; that he rejects the jewellery as a protest of the discrimination among hisses and gatherings and ruffled tails – that’s he’s doing this for a cause, for a belief, to defend others, to make a place for them in this world. That he’s a brave frontier, fighting against the flow.

But Kuroo’s a coward. It’s easier to tuck away his ears, keep his tail wound at his waist than it is to explain to others why he isn’t wearing the jewellery so heavily associated with his lineage. It’s easier to curl up in shame at who he is, than it is so hold out through young kittens peering at his darkness from behind their parent’s legs, than it is to hear whispers of horror stories brought about by the black sleek of his tail paired with the induced glint of aged gemstones. Kuroo is tired of people shying away from him, of people scared of him, hating him. It’s easier to be anyone else, anything else, than it is to force through every interaction with razor wit and harsh edges alone.

 He’s not red like his mother. He won’t stand and fight.

 (Not anymore, at least.)

 So, so, so; He gets up after nights of hating himself so intensely he almost turns himself inside out, and he doesn’t throw himself a pity party. He covers palms red from bleach and scrubbing with the sleeves of his turtleneck, ruffles his hair enough to disguise the beaks of his ears as a messy peak of a haircut and dons a jacket just big enough to hide the suggestive bump at his waist where his tail coils. The pain isn’t there if he doesn’t let himself feel it, and he’s not limping or flinching every time he slides his phone into his pocket. There isn’t raw flesh beneath his jeans. He isn’t stitched together like the ghost of a family heirloom, and he doesn’t hate himself.

#deleted scenes #laugh til i cry #bokuroo #haikyuu!!

[killingtheopinion-blog]

Making a Change

My head is down, I’ve had a hard life and I tend to beat myself up.  I wonder is it me? I put blame on others and their faults.  I like to judge others and what they’re doing because it is easier to put the pressure on someone else.  I find it hard to believe at times, to have faith that everything is going to be ok.  I lay awake at night wondering how do I get rid of the pain?  The past that seems to come up over time.  I realize what I have done to others especially when it is thrown back in my face as I have those same behaviors.  I want to give up but I know I can’t, I will be eternally dead spiritually and mentally if not physically.  I live in fear of what my life will become or what mistakes I will make to screw it up again.  Over and over I see the pain that comes from my decisions and spend my entire life trying to figure out how I can be fulfilled again.  My peace is broken which leads to racing thoughts in my mind, my anxiety is high, and depression is around the corner.  Life is too hard to continue and I feel like giving up all the time.  Why am I wasting time in these rooms again, why am I wasting life making the same decisions, why am I wasting time not to grow within myself?  There comes a times where something happens when I decide to do something.  There comes a time when I start working on personal growth, I find answers within myself to do something about it.  I get sick of defeating myself instead of winning, I decide to make changes.  I start looking at my lifestyle and the way that it is structured.  Do I need to wake up earlier, do I need to read more, do I need strong people in my life, do I need start putting in work within myself to start making myself feel better?  These questions result in a decision to make a change if I am willing enough to do it.  I look around the room and I feel empty, can I relate, why are these people making me angry, why do I hate myself?  I stand looking in the mirror and wondering why there is self-pity that is destroying my soul, the despair of where I am at in life.  I have examples of what “life” should look like on daily basis, people have families, they take vacations, they enjoy activities that I want to do.  I wonder why I don’t have this, but doesn’t everybody have bad times to, we don’t see it.  What happens when times get tough and I don’t want to deal with it head on walking through it.  I live in this fear that I will never, it’s not going to happen, this won’t work, I can’t do this, these “people” made my life this way.  All of this is just a dillusion within my mind that tells me that I am not good enough to achieve greatness, to achieve success, to achieve certain goals that I want to obtain.  Changes will come if we want them to, if we are willing to fight, if we are willing enough to reach out for help.  I have to put my ego and pride aside for just a minute so I can have moments of clarity within myself.  I need to see the truth of what is really going on with me, how I really feel, why I have put myself in this position.  I don’t want to have these questions anymore, I want to be able to live in peace and happiness.  There is better out there for me, I deserve better, I will achieve better.  I need to give these things a chance and give it 100 percent or I am only failing myself again.  Why do I want to do that?  Why do I want to struggle and look at life in a negative aspect.  I have all of these issues and problems, but am I really willing to do anything about it?  Will I stay the same as a person or will I start to change how I treat myself and others.  I realize that my reality at times is false/bullshit, that my misleading thoughts create chaos and misunderstanding with others.  I get angry and resentful instead of taking my own personal responsibility of what I am doing.  I hate the way that I am so much that I need to mask it in anyway possible, I am scared to show people who I really am, I stay guarded so I don’t get hurt by others.  It is easy to hind behind walls and take the easy way out which is usually the route taken.  Living life not having the capability of being honest and hiding from the ones that I love.  These days it is to easy to move on and I live in a world that allows me to do so.  Instant gratification is easy to come by and has deterred me from having to work through pain.  I seek others and their approval, and if I don’t get it I wonder what is wrong with me.  I have to decide not to hide behind walls and lie to those I care about.  I watch others fall victim to the tools that we get sucked into the most, nothing is ever good enough, I need more, I don’t appreciate what I already have.  I have to make a change, I have to look down at my feet and realize where I am, I have every day to make my life better if I choose to do so.  I am tired of others dictating my future, I am tired of others taking up space in my mind, I am tired of listening to negativity.  I reach out for the positive and people that are on the path to make a change, I need to put in more work, I am letting the small things slip through my fingers.  I need to imagine what my life can be like, what I am capable of, what I see myself doing in the future.  I am tired of waiting around for something to happen when I understand that I am the problem but I am also the solution.  Law of attraction, that I can believe it into exsitance and continue into a positive direction.  I need to be able to have faith that my life will be good, that I will be happy, that I will get the things that I am looking for, and the people that are meant to be there.  I will make a decision to make a change today to add value to my life on a daily basis, to allow kindness and love into my life.  I will allow myself to let concepts that will benefit my life to take a greater effect in where I am headed.  I realize now that I have to find my inner strength, I have to find a way to break away from my demons.  I let these things dictate my life and my mood, why am I allowing others to control who I am and how I feel.  Why is it so hard to not allow that to happen?  Why do I limit myself to only one way of thinking and how I attack life?  Why have decided to make the same choices to keep feeling the way that I am which is defeated?  I am exhausted, I am tired, I have nothing left to give, how do I allow desperation to be a catalyst of change?  Give it a change, continue to fight, when these times are tough allow them to be an opportunity to overcome and change the direction of my path.  Nobody has told me that this is the way things have to be and I have to have misery.  I don’t care where you are or where you are going, or where your life is.  You have an opportunity to make yourself happy, to make yourself realize that there is more in this life for me.  I deserve the happiness and the refuge that I have been seeking within myself to be comfortable.  I don’t need to allow negative thoughts to creep in my mind early in the morning to start my day off in a terrible setting.  Upon waking up is one of the most important times of my day, it dictates how my day is going to go, how I will rise up and do something to make a change.  It also is how I go to sleep, what I allow my thoughts to be before I lay down to rest.  Give yourself a chance, give yourself an opportunity to gravitate towards where you are supposed to go.  See the opportunities, see the chances, the risks, see the deep inner workings of people in your life, see the change, listen to your gut, your inhibitions, your heart, listen to the reading in between the lines.  Get out of black and white, you have room for another way of thinking but you have to be able to seek it out.  Change who you are and where you are going to go and greatness will follow this I promise.  

#makingchange selfimprovement change