Jaune wearing headphones and dancing alone in JNPR’s room unaware as RWBYNPR watches on.

Ruby: “Wait, why are you all filming this?”

Yang: “Teasing, duh.”

Nora: “Blackmail, duh.”

Weiss: “Prosperity’s sake.”

Blake: “Research purposes.”

Pyrrha: “Personal use…”

Ren: “I know Jaune would want to see how his moves look.”

Ren: “Also, blackmail.”

Ruby: “Could you send me a copy?”

Gen no offense but if you were a silly little man living on a boat wearing your special cowboy hat and spent your days knitting and watching black and white movies on your tiny tv amd eating bowls of sprouts , id ask you to marry me 😂

according to the japanese art of kintsugi,

nothing is unfixable.

statues that have withered may be

repaired with seams of gold.

I wondered if that principle applies to people,

and if God would let me in after fixing his creation,

then I tried it anyway.

kintsugi was the uber spinning thirteen miles east,

the passenger seat ejecting, flipping,

shards of me flinging into

a tangle of hair and shoulder blades.

her torso is a long drag of tobacco and

I run my hands along the equator of her back.

body foetused into body, until I realise.

I’m an unmade mosaic masquerading

as an art piece, with a stranger

behind my face and on my lap.

I thought if we pretended long enough

we might fill each other’s cracks.

kintsugi kokaï // r.t.