#too much time on my hands results in too much thinking

[wonderlandcrown]

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑥 𝑌𝑢𝑢(𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

a/n : book 5 spoilers, also Vil didn't know Jamil overbloted until book 6. reader is gn and referred to as "Yuu, the prefect, you, they/them pronouns"

genre : light angst, romance(pining)

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛💜���┈⛧┈┈•༶

Someday my prince will come Someday I'll find my love And how thrilling that moment will be When the prince of my dreams comes to me He'll whisper, "I love you" And steal a kiss or two Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil was reluctant to stay in Ramshackle during VDC, "A messy room equals a messy mind", is what he tells his dorm mates. Though he understood that the prefect didn't choose to stay there, Vil Schoenheit was never a fan of unclean spaces.

But Vil had bigger problems at the moment, Neige will undoubtedly show up for the competition, and his dream- no, his goal will be in jeopardy.

The headmage did say that the prefect was quite talented in bringing people together...

Fine then, if staying in a dingy dorm means having a chance at winning against Neige, he'll do it.

"How thrilling, " Vil thought, "will my moment of victory be."

Someday I'll find my love Someone to call my own And I'll know him the moment we meet For my heart will start skipping a beat Some day we'll say, "I do" Things we've been longing to Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil noticed the scars around the prefects hands, undoubtedly the result of going through no less than 3 overblots, not to mention all of them happened under a year!

Vil scoffs, Crowley must be more incompetent than he thought if he allowed a poor defenseless student to get caught up in so much trouble; or is it Yuu who is careless?

He originally saw you akin to something like a pathetic wet cat : lost, clueless, naive.

Though he'll admit he was quite wrong, your occasional sharp jabs towards the trio of potatoes(Ace, Deuce and Grim) didn't go unnoticed by Vil. He thinks you're quite funny, you act so brazenly and sarcastic around your friends but around strangers you suddenly become quiet and well spoken, you remind him of the difference of his personalities on camera and off.

Though that's the only thing he and you have in common.

Vil remembers perfectly well the glare Yuu shot at him when he cursed the delicacies Trey gifted the younger spudlings. It was a necessary measure! You're smarter than your friends, you should understand that they would've tried to break away from the diet Vil gave them.

Vil doesn't understand, he doesn't understand those potatoes, didn't they agree to this? Don't they want to win? If they do they should listen to him, he knows what's best, he's been trained for countless competitions since he was young, these diets, these restrictions have been imposed onto him ever since then and they will be forevermore.

For them, it'll only be a moment before they're back to their normal lives, so why can't they understand? Vil understood ever since he was young, so why can't they?

He's been longing for the chance to stay on stage until the very last moment, so why can't Yuu just do what he says and help those idiots cooperate with him.

Vil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, he shouldn't dwell on unnecessary things for too long, lest he stray from his goal.

Somewhere waiting for me There is someone I'm longing to see Someone I simply can't help but adore Someone who'll thrill me forever

"Hey, uh, can we discuss something? "

It was already late afternoon, Epel had screamed at Vil and ran away from the dorm and one of your friends, Deuce, he remembers, ran after him. But they haven't been back.

He lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"What is it?" Vil turns to face you, usually during the breaks between the VDC groups training, you pass around water bottles and some snacks(not cursed by Vil this time). Though this time you carry nothing, it's expected, the rest of the group only have a break because two of the members ran off to who knows where.

"I think you're being too harsh on them. " Vil scoffs, "Excuse me? They're the ones being too careless, they're not serious enough. " Vil glares at you, nose scrunched. You betray his expectations, really, he expected you to be more mature about this.

You only look at him in the eyes as a response, he notices your tense frame, you must've been planning to tell him this for a while now.

"..Epel ran away." Vil lifts an eyebrow, "And? Are you just here to state the obvious?" He hears you click your tongue, you're irritated with him? Why must you be so mean to him, prefect, all he wants is to win, is that so much to ask for?

"Look, I understand your efforts, what you do to achieve your dreams is commendable, really, "

Dreams? How dare you use such a childish word, the Vil Schoenheit doesn't dream, he has no time for that.

"but you need to realize that not everyone can handle, well, you. We want to win, obviously but uh, you're already so accustomed to this type of stuff but we're not.."

Hm? Oh, prefect, you're flattering him, so you're saying that he's so glamorous to the point that the normal spudlings can't even begin to compare?... Vil's kidding obviously, but the compliment has made him more inclined to listen to you.

"Dear prefect, I may see your point.. Though you must realize that diamonds are created under pressure, and the headmage has been far too lenient." You sigh, brows furrowed, "Tell me about it.. Again, you're not wrong, there are limits. Even the seemingly strong gems can crack if they have internal flaws."

My, isn't this new.. Prefect, it's been quite the long time since someone dared to question him, in such an interesting way no less.. Most people either agree with no objections or slander his views vehemently (Rook and Epel, Vil's looking at you) Congratulations are in order for managing to intrigue Vil of all people.

You're confused on why Vil's smiling, so.. fondly at you, did you do something wrong?

"Prefect, if you don't mind, how do you feel about joining my nightly routine tomorrow, I think you have many interesting topics to share with me."

Someday my prince will come Someday I will find the one Though he's far away he'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true Oh, please make my dreams come true

"The winner of VDC is.. ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY, LED BY THE ONE AND ONLY NEIGE LEBLANCHE!"

The crowd cheers endlessly, Vil feels his heart grow heavy with that same, twisting, horrendously ugly feeling of envy. His feet feel like they're on fire and Vil has to pretend the camera flashes are irritating him in order to blink back the tears.

It's ok, it's fine, the loser has to fall and Vil feels like he's been plummeting since then, now, and perhaps forevermore.(please don't let it be so)

It's even worse when Neige pulls him into an encore, his hand pressing on one of the bruises on his arm, a scar gained from his overblot. But Vil's heart only winces when he thinks of you, he thinks of your scars, you must have so many, you've been through so much..

Vil is so, so sorry, he wants to cry and beg for your forgiveness, for Rook's, for Epel's, for everyone's forgiveness. What he did was so stupidly immature, how could he just betray his own expectations, everyone expected Vil Schoenheit to be level headed, mature, and beautiful. So why? Why must he be everything except that?

Everything after his overblot was a blur, really. He thought his career would go up on smoke, everything he worked for would've been gone. Vil stared at his phone, waiting for a ping from his manager, informing him that his overblot, his weakest moment, was leaked for the whole world to see. Vil sits at the vanity, normally he would be staring into his reflection, but now he can't even bear the thought of looking at the mirror.

Suddenly he was met with a knock on his door.

"I'm not expecting visitors, if it's not urgent then go find Rook, or the prefect."

"Vil, I am the prefect."

Vil immediately sits up right, brushing away the few strands of stray hair, before inviting you in. "Come on in."

You quickly slip inside his room, closing the door behind you with a click, Vil tilts his head, usually he would never do this, unbefitting of the mature image of Vil Schoenheit, but since it's you, he finds himself at ease without putting on his performative mask. "I see you want privacy, is it personal?"

"Yeah, I.. wanted to see how you're doing. " Vil doesn't hold back the bittersweet smile, "You really are kind, don't worry about me, you should've ran away when you saw me overblot, why didn't you?"

Why didn't you? You should've ran away the moment you saw blot dripping from his lips and eyes, yet you stayed, you stayed during his overblot and all the others. Vil wants to know, how is one person so caring yet sarcastic, so plain yet so interesting, so normal yet.. Vil feels like he's never met someone like you before.

"Why didn't I? What kind of question is that, the better question is how could I leave a friend during his weakest moments?"

See? Caring yet sarcastic, Vil giggles at your response, "You should know when to stop helping people, dear. One day you'll get irreversibly wounded and there's nothing I could do to help you at that point." Vil's tone is light, though he feels an aching sensation when he imagines a fatally wounded Yuu.

You sigh, taking a step closer to Vil, "I'm not that weak, so don't think of stuff like that." The housewarden of Pomefiore only gives a tired smile, plain yet so interesting, he thinks. You're a magicless being somehow willed with such tenacity that befits the values of the Beautiful Queen, Vil might be inclined to take a few lessons from you.

It takes a while before Vil notices you're staring at him, you look at him as if you were looking at a poor, caged animal. "..Is there something else you want to tell me?" You don't respond, you only continue to look at him, at his clothes, at his hair, then you stare at him in the eye.

Vil feels a lump form in his throat, you're looking at him in such a humane way, not the lovesick expressions usually adorned on his fans, not the scowls of jealousy from the haters. You look at him as if you see something beyond the masks he wears.

Unlike what most people think, Vil Schoenheit actually has two masks, one he adorns when the camera rolls, which from there he has many others to choose from. The second he wears to retain the strict and regal image of Pomefiore, the one who rules this dorm with an iron fist, where he is both hated and loved.(not that much different from his career)

But you, you're looking at none of the two, he never saw anyone else other than his own father and Rook wear this expression. Someone who sees beyond what is presented to them.

"You're tired." Vil finally hears you say something, "I'll go draw you a bath." Your words were authoritative and left no room for arguement, it reminds Vil of himself. As the actor watches you walk into his bathroom he feels a warm sensation course through him, it's been quite the long time since he was the one on the receiving end of these affections.

No, affections is too intimate a word, but Vil can't think of any other way to describe it.

You can't see his expression now, prefect, but do know that you made Vil Schoenheit of all people cover his face to hide his blush and smile. So normal yet Vil's never met anyone else like you.

Vil hears the sound of water flowing coming from the bathroom, he hopes you finish your task soon, Vil has never felt what yearning for another's presence was like until now.

Vil already has his hunter and poison apple, so tell him what you'll be? What role will you take on to complete the Beautiful Queen's camaraderie? Will you be his raven, dutiful, working from the shadows; or his mirror : showing him what you see, beyond what Vil presents himself to be.

Vil shall wait for your answer, prefect.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬

a/n : someday my prefect will come - vil schoenheit. first fanfic tbh, there were pacing issues but I don't think it's that bad for a first timer. reblogs are appreciated

edit : chapter 2(not a continuation of this) is out now, go on my blog and search the tag "the songs of love", also you can tell me in the reblogs or comments if you wanna be tagged for chapter 3

[cyborg-alchemist]

Being trans fucking rules for a lot of reasons.

So, to preface, I don't exactly have the standard accepted gender narrative of 'I was always a woman, born in the wrong body.' I was born a baby in a baby's body. From there, I transitioned into a kind of genderqueer kid, to definitely a boy, to a teenage boy that sometimes wore feminine clothing to piss of my school, to a fuck gender is fake and I don't want one, to transfem. All of those were me, more or less. I spent a solid 10 years being a grown ass man, and decided that I've seen about as much as I care to, and I didn't want to die wondering if I'd be happier as the version of myself that decided to do it.

Now I get to see what it's like to be on both sides of the hormonal experience, at least, to some degree. I never realized, as a man, how much the world felt through feminine skin. It's like my entire body was wrapped in callous, and I'm feeling with my bare skin for the first time. This is fantastic with soft clothes, clean sheets, and cuddles. The first time I did a load of dishes after getting my new skin, I nearly scrubbed my fingers off, trying to remove the feeling that there was dish grease inside my skin. I'm 30 now, and going through a second puberty, and it feels like I'm getting to rediscover the world through new hands.

It's emotionally different, too. As a man, I was plagued by these little flashes of frustration when something felt restrictive, bursting up faster than I could react to, and then gone moments later. I'm pretty sure this is where teenage boys get a reputation for punching drywall. Now, many of my more angry emotions have a slow release that I could never get before. I never used to be able to maintain a space between incandescent rage and empty stillness, but now I have a warm smoulder that I can nurse into action all day. I feel like my emotions are both smoothed out, but also more expressive now. I'm feeling in far more analogue signals, instead of something that felt far more binary before. I don't know how many of these feelings are "this is your brain on e" and how much is "This is your brain with that missing piece" but my transmasc friends have described the reverse experiences on their end. Testosterone, on average, made them both feel stronger, and express it less. But now I've been able to see all of that spectrum of experience.

In short, the act of crossing over is giving me so much perspective that I only vaguely suspected I was missing. I'm getting more life in my life.

And when I try to describe this to my cis woman friends, they don't seem to quite get it. Sometimes it feels like they simply don't realize how big a deal it is, and sometimes it's like trying to describe a cool drink of water to a fish. Most people can't describe what it's like to be them, because they haven't been anything else. Well, I HAVE been someone else, pretty recently, in fact. Every moment, I know what it's like to be me, because this time last year, I was a pretty different me.

On a more physical level, I think being transfem is the only way to have the configuration of body parts that I want without some big surgery, assuming a binary sex starting point. So there's that. I'm enjoying the second puberty, and I'm even, in some cases, enjoying that it is the second one. I'm planning on undoing some of the harrier results of the first, and I might want to train some out of the voice, but even cis folks don't get everything out of puberty that they want.

Like, sure, being trans in this time and place is A Lot, but that's "I don't like sharing a country with those assholes" not "I don't like being trans." The actual internal experience has been fantastic.

Trans people only

[shuenkio]

Please ? — 현진

Paring: Hyunjin X M!reader

Synopsis: Making your boyfriend mad? He had enough from bottled up ever since, now you'll pay the price.

Genre : Smut — no plot. Cw: smau.

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Note: A drabble smut.

The bed cracked, by the impact of the masculine hot man pounding his enormous length into his lover's ass. His boyfriend had been a very bad boy, ever since and didn't even admit that he was wrong. Hyunjin was bottled up by his anger, and frustrated whenever M/n doing that that upset him, such like touching other guy hand, clinging to their friends a lil much than usual.

"You little piece of shit, MMHA— take it you fucking slut, know your place that you're only mine, you're my god damn boyfriend, not the slave to put up for good to the others than me M/n! Fuck"

Hyunjin growl like a husky while balls deep down into M/n's hole relentlessly, pressing his hip to the hilt inside, rough pounding him with no mercy to punished M/n for good, making sure he'd remember who he belong to. M/n can't put his fingers on anything, his wrists are being tied by one hand due to his lover. Your world has become Hyunjin's toy — His own personal toy, this was the consequences of doing bad, something that Hyunjin had already been saying countless times that he doesn't like M/n to make contact, touching, and clingy to everybody a lot however M/n didn't listen now here we are, M/n's anal is being destroy and abused by Hyunjin's cock non stop.

"I'm sorry kiwi— I'm so surry— w-wont happened ever.... Again" Feeling guilty along with how rough he is fucking without any rest, M/n left no choice but to beg for mercy, to spare, to breathe. Yet Hyunjin only gets more turned on with the way you beg for him, the puppy doe eyes never fail to melt Hyunjin's heart ever, it was one of the reasons why this relationship started.

Hyunjin's chuckle, his voice vibrates through the body of M/n with his sly and chucky smirk. Your whimpers and squirming is like music to his ears which he can't stop pulling his sensitive dick out of M/n even though the moment the latter said sorry— all anger in Hyunjin faded like a dust.

"Puppy you think by saying sorry is over? How funny because you're not only fueling me more but making yourself so fuckable rn!!

Shit— why are you so MITHERFUCKING tight owchh mhmm like that— I'm gonna

No—No— Ahh Ahh I'm coming m/n, this is insane I can't stop— so fucking STRANGE I'm FUCK— CUMMING" Gurgle sound were heard, it was crazy that Hyunjin nut so hard to this point of him, shooting lot jazz of hot cum rope inside of his boyfriend's inside, painted them from flesh to tacky smelly white. As Hyunjin's expression contours in pleasure, results him to hold onto M/n's waist for his dear life that could leave hands prints, whilst his throbbing rock hard cock pulsing to the vast unable to pull it out due to his overstimulated sensitive, he throwing his head facing the ceiling where in his eyes were nowhere to be seen except white. The sensation never failed to turn Hyunjin into a lifeless demon, by your tight hole clenching him like a vice every single time.

M/n's also turn into a sculpture, his boyfriend's orgasm is almost too intense which clicked instantly, triggered the small latter's penis as a load of cum, spurt out staining on the black mistress. He's fucked up.

"Never make me mad again my forever — this is how I punish you okay? You know how much I fucking love and would burn the world for you. Please."

Funtalk: How was it... It's another experiment ;_; would you ever want to leave Hyunjin? I hope you say no.

[shianis]

If you're okay then maybe you could write Starscream wearing his crown, roleplaying as a King and Megatron as his knight? Chaos ensues over the Decepticons as they continue to play and act like this for the whole day. Sfw, could be any form of art please.

"The Nemesis Theatre Disaster"

Morale on the Nemesis was at an all-time low.

The Decepticons had suffered setback after setback, Autobots ruining their plans at every turn. The troops were sluggish, unmotivated, and even the usual entertainments—like fighting matches in the training room or gambling on who would get punched by Megatron first—had lost their charm.

Knockout, ever the perfectionist, hated this.

“Low morale leads to low productivity, Lord Megatron!” he argued, arms crossed. “And low productivity leads to poor results! Do you want your forces to perform at half capacity?”

Megatron, who had just suffered through an exceptionally sloppy battle, ex-vented through his denta. “…No.”

Knockout smirked victoriously. “Exactly! So, we need a solution.”

As second-in-command Starscream immediately took this as his chance to shine.

“Clearly, what we need is art,” he declared dramatically, wings flaring. “A distraction to lift spirits and remind our troops that the Decepticons are more than just warriors—we are thinkers, creatives, visionaries—”

“I am going to regret asking this,” Megatron muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but what are you suggesting?”

Starscream grinned.

“We shall host a play!”

Megatron’s spark sank. He had already made a mistake.

---

Knockout, not surprisingly, loved the idea.

“Oh, brilliant! We’ll make it grand! A true spectacle! And I shall be the director, of course.”

Starscream scoffed. “Obviously. Who else could handle such an important task? Vehicons? I don't think so.”

With that settled, the disaster spiraled quickly.

Starscream, as the most gifted with words (his own assessment), was put in charge of writing the script.

Breakdown and Soundwave were tasked with handling props, stage construction, and lighting. Soundwave, with his usual eerie efficiency, had it all set up within hours, while Breakdown spent most of the time wondering how he’d been dragged into this.

The casting process was… interesting.

“You, Lord Megatron, shall play the part of my loyal knight!” Starscream announced, puffing his chestplate with pride.

Megatron immediately hated this. “No.”

Starscream waved dismissively. “Too late! The script is already written. You swore an oath of fealty to my character—King Starflare the Magnificent—and I expect you to act accordingly.”

Megatron turned to Knockout. “You will regret this.”

Knockout, adjusting his director’s cap, just grinned. “Oh, I already do. But I’m enjoying the chaos too much to stop now.”

---

Opening Night.

The entire crew gathered in the Nemesis’ cargo bay-turned-theatre. Seats had been arranged, a stage had been built, and Soundwave had somehow rigged up an actual lighting system.

The play began.

And it was an utter disaster.

Starscream’s script was atrocious.

The story followed the noble and glorious King Starflare (played by Starscream) as he ruled his kingdom with unmatched wisdom, beauty, and grace. His loyal knight, Sir Mediumtron (played by a very unamused Megatron), was his fiercest defender, sworn to protect him at all costs.

The problem?

The dialogue was awful.

Megatron read from the script with the enthusiasm of a mech contemplating self-destruction. “Oh, my most radiant lord, my sword and spark are ever at your service. I shall smite thine enemies with the fury of a thousand sunrises. —” He paused. Looked at the next word. “... Mediumtron looked at his king with admiration because he secretly loved him.”

"Those are stage directions you should not read that part!!"

Starscream, standing dramatically on a fake throne, waved a dismissive hand. “Besides, you must sell it, Megatron. The people need to believe in your love and devotion to your king!”

Megatron’s fist clenched. “I am going to kill you.”

The troops in the audience were barely holding in their laughter.

Things only got worse.

Breakdown had built the worst props possible, including a cardboard dragon that was supposed to be the grand final battle but looked more like a sickly Turbofox with wings.

Knockout, being Knockout, had focused entirely on style, giving everyone elaborate capes that got tangled in their movements.

Soundwave had rigged the lighting too well, and at one point, a dramatic spotlight hit Starscream so hard he tripped on his own cape and faceplanted off the stage.

That was honestly Megatron's favourite part.

The audience erupted into laughter.

Starscream shot up, flustered and furious. “Silence, peasants! You dare mock your king?!”

That only made them laugh harder.

Megatron, suffering through one of his worst cycles yet, rubbed his optics and sighed. “Starscream, end this madness.”

Starscream huffed. “The finale has yet to—”

That was when the cardboard dragon collapsed mid-scene, knocking over an entire set piece. Breakdown cursed as props went flying. The whole stage fell apart, leaving Starscream standing awkwardly in the wreckage.

Silence.

Then—

Thunderous applause.

The troops loved it.

They cheered, whistled, and shouted for more. They weren’t laughing at Starscream—they were genuinely entertained. For the first time in weeks, the Decepticons were actually happy.

Starscream was taking in all that applause and pretended all was according to his plan.

Knockout smirked, leaning against Megatron. “Well, Lord Megatron? Morale’s never been higher.”

Megatron groaned. His dignity was in tatters, but…

If the troops were happy, then maybe it was worth it.

…Still, he would make Starscream and Knockout suffer for this later.

[spider-mancan]

Tony can't finish dressing by himself.

Broken arms fuck up a lot more than he expects. No matter how often he fucks up his arm or his shoulder or his elbow, it always surprises him. Buttons? He's lucky he's had a lot of practice undressing one-handed. Zippers? 50-50 shot towards manageable but he has been traumatized from the last time Pepper had to detangle him from his slacks. Now he's a little gunshy.

Ties, though. There's no hope without a second set of hands.

He doesn't wear many ties these days. He's semi-retired, after the whole death thing. The charming romp that resulted in his broken arm was an unexpected exception involving a set of French doors, some ill-advised molotov cocktails, and ten sets of stairs. And also an assassination attempt, once Tony finished laughing his ass off. It was immediate karma, although Tony maintains he didn't deserve it.

Pepper has begged him to show his face in public more. They think he faked his resurrection, which is funny because they thought he faked his death, too, and the resurrection was, like, three years ago -- Tony doesn't have the kind of patience for a long con.

Speaking of patience: "Hey, Pete?" Tony gives up trying to strangle himself with the silk monstrosity Pepper set out on his bed this afternoon. "Mind helping out an invalid?"

"One sec!" Peter's voice bubbles from down the hallway. He's excited in a way one can only be when they haven't been to too many fancy events in their life. Pepper was smart about sending Peter as his plus one. At least then,some of Peter's enthusiasm might rub off. "Let me wash my hands. This shit gets everywhere, every time."

It'll be a fun event, as much as it could be. Not black tie, and the invitations swing a little camp. Tony is wearing a crimson red suit, clean cut but bright as all hell, with gold embroidery. He tends to prefer classic ensembles (although he has fond memories of the 90s) but he can't deny the chance to dress up. Peter hadn't even let Tony buy him a suit. He said he'd rather do something more fun, and had begrudgingly taken Tony's credit card and promised to buy something pretty.

That's what he'd said, once his protests had died. Okay, Mr. Stark. I'll use this to buy something pretty, if that's what you want.

God, Tony is a bad man. He doesn't think about lace or leather at all. He doesn't. Isn't.

"Are you in here trying to end it all? Give the tie a break, mister." Tony startles as hands magically appear before him, pulling the tie out of his grip. To be fair, it looks less like a tie and more like a knot, now. Peter snorts, fingers picking at the mess. "Tell me you have a steamer or something. Can you use steam on silk?"

Tony opens his mouth, blinks, and then shuts it.

There's gold on Peter's eyelids.

Gold. Eyeshadow. Probably. Tony's worn makeup before. Peter has gold eyeshadow, and some dark liner smudged around his eyes. A little concealer. His browns are darker. His lips are glossy, maybe just a balm. Glossy. His lips are glossy. His eyes are gold.

"Yeah." Tony doesn't remember what he was saying, but Peter is just looping the tie around Tony's neck and getting to work.

Tony is the one who taught Peter how to tie a tie. May tried, but Tony is particular. He taught Peter how he likes his ties tied. Not to have Peter tie his ties or anything, but because everyone should know how to dress slick and easy. That's all.

Something pretty. Peter is wearing dark red shot through with gold thread pinstripe and a sheer shirt. Sheer. There isn't much skin to show, with the jacket, but if Tony took his good hand and used all those years of unbuttoning, pushed aside the lapel, he'd see Peter's bare nipple.

Peter smells like Tony's cologne. He probably borrowed some, since Tony's collection is huge. When he tilts his head, Tony smells it on his skin, hot. It's heavier around the cooler, which is open and very visible. Lots of skin. And cologne. Is it hot in here? Where is he right now.

Peter crosses the knot a bit too tight and it jolts Tony back to earth. "You're staring," he says, eyes focused on his hands as they work silk around Tony's neck. His eyes are shiny and gold. Gold. His lashes are long, too. Did he use makeup on them or has Tony just not noticed before.

Tony clears his throat. "No."

Peter makes a small sound of agreement, even though his mouth quirks in that way he does when he doesn't believe a thing a Tony says. "Okay." Over, under, tighten the know. Smooth the silk down the front of Tony's chest.

Tony swallows thickly. "If I was staring, you'd know."

"Okay," Peter says again, slipping the tie into the clip and smoothing it down again. "I wonder if I'd even notice." Tilts his head, even though his eyes are still focused on his hands. Tony is also focused on Peter's hands, because they have stilled and are still on Tony's chest. "You staring, I mean."

"Like I said, you'd know."

"Maybe I'd even mention it to you." Peter looks up now with a secret little smile. "And you'd tell me you weren't, and then where would we be?"

Tony's good hand wants to press Peter in close, but he can't, so he doesn't. Why can't he? He keeps forgetting. It settles on Peter's elbow instead, light and teasing through the jacket. Unintentional, probably. His fingers flit over the seam. Peter doesn't move away. Tony keeps forgetting that he should.

"Are you ready to go?" Peter asks, changing gears, and Tony slumps with either relief or disappointment. Either way, it's the first breath he's taken in a year. "It's almost time for us to be fashionably late."

"Right." Tony wipes a hand over his face and grabs his jacket from the bed. Peter steps close again, helping him drape it nicely over his sling. "Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."

"You could never. Oh! By the way." Peter is setting the shoulders straight, but then he's pressing closer -- his body a firm line against Tony's back -- and slipping his hands over Tony's chest. "Thanks for something pretty." He kisses Tony's cheek, all mischief, even though his cheeks are blushing red. There's a smear on Tony's skin. Definitely gloss.

When Tony recovers, Peter is already out the door. Tony finds his credit card in his breast pocket when he's hurriedly shoving in the pocket square and trying to follow him out the door.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Trop bon, trop con.

Warning : drugs, nudity, masturbation mention, suicidal ideation

Genre : angst

Synopsis : “could I request a thanos x male reader where it's before the games, & they've been childhood friends, mixed complicated feelings & the reader let's Thanos stay in his apartment?? it results in the reader finding out abt Thanos using the crypto app & kicking him out, & it kinda just ends with the reader assuming Thanos already got over him because he hasn't heard from him😭 (when it's really just Thanos in squid game)” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // trop bon, trop con = too nice, too stupid. // you’re both not out sexually to each other

You’ve known each other since your first school years, always together, one could almost never be seen without the other. Always going to his house or yours, constantly being invited during the holidays and birthdays, he even followed you when you and your family went away during the holidays.

Even after he stopped studying to focus on his rap, you continued seeing one another. You were always gravitating toward Subong and him toward you.

Somehow along the way, feelings bloomed as neither of you spoke about them, being each other’s first man crush, preferring to focus on your personal goals than to try anything.

You briefly lived together in a flat, rent paid by your parents as you both tried to find a job to get some money, and when he made enough, he left to get his own apartment.

You did the same, finding your own place, even though it was small.

Years passed and you both kept changing jobs, you were trying to find something that you’d like while he kept getting fired for almost always the same reasons.

Bad customer service, talking back to everyone, arriving late and leaving too early.

“Why did you flip your boss off ?” You asked, taking a sip from your drink.

“I didn’t know there were cameras !”

“Of course there are ! It’s a convenience store ! They all have cameras by the cashier !” You sighed. “What are you gonna do once you’ve worked at every place in the city ?”

“Hey, I didn’t get fired that much. The way you talk makes it sound like the whole country fired me.”

“You have been fired by the whole country.” You snickered, patting his hand as he slapped yours away, grabbing his drink. “Why did you do it ?” You asked again and he side eyed you.

“He asked me to be nicer to the customers. I literally was ! No one is nicer than me !”

“Nicest man on earth flips people off. Yeah.”

“Shut up. There was this lady, I said ‘Hello’ she didn’t reply. I thought maybe she was deaf so I repeated myself louder. Still no answer so I said it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. And when I said it once more she said she heard me the first time.”

You laughed as he glared at you, crossing his arms.

“You’re laughing ? I was literally being super nice and polite !”

“Why couldn’t you just drop it and move on ? Why did you want her to answer so bad ? Aaah, she was cute, right ?” You pointed at him, shaking your head exasperated.

“What do you take me for, huh !? Some old ass lady, tsk. I’m always fired because of them !”

“Yeah, definitely not because you flipped off your boss.”

“Ah, stop it with that ! You would’ve done it too !”

“No. I’m an exemplary worker.” You replied, posing.

“Such a humble bastard.” He scoffed as you laughed again.

“Such polite words from the nicest man on earth.” You said, making his chuckle. “I bet you didn’t just flip him off lazily, you put all your strength in it, face scrunched up, fist shaking and all.”

“How do you know ?”

“I’ve seen the tapes, man. No, I fucking know you duh. You think we’ve known each other for only a few months or what ?” You sighed, leaning against the back of your chair.

He seemed to think for a moment, drinking before gasping. You raised an eyebrow, wanting to know what he just realized.

“I don’t know what my life is without you.”

“It would’ve been sad and dark without me.” You smiled, nodding solemnly. He raised his glass quickly, threatening to empty his drink on you if you continued as you laughed.

“Since kindergarten ?” He finally said after a little while.

“Yeah I think.”

“Woah, I’ve been supporting your ass all this time ?”

You snorted, making a slurping sound with your straw as you took a sip.

“Stop it, you love me. None of the girlfriends you had know you the way I do. Who has been a constant in your whole life ? Meee ~”

He scoffed.

“No way I’m dating you. Pain in the ass.”

You chuckled.

“I never suggested we date. I’m too good for you anyway.” You sighed, nodding once more.

“Shut up, you’re the worst between us two. You kept fumbling your girlfriends, almost making me believe you have feelings for someone else.”

“You can talk.” You scoffed.

“What does that mean ?”

You only shrugged, ending the conversation there.

He doesn’t care much about the jobs he does, knowing his rap career would take off someday and get him rich. Then he could have the place he wanted and not have to care about some shitty ass job anymore.

He already had a small fanbase, all he needed was a little push to get more famous.

Then it happened. As they looked for participants to a rap battle on TV, Thanos went to the audition and finally got accepted after many tries over the years. He immediately quit his job after only a few days of working there. Well, quitting is a big word, he simply stopped showing up without giving any news.

Everything was going so well, Thanos had managed to make it till the last round. And then, he forgot his bars, not remembering what he was supposed to rap next.

He looked around himself, eyes wide and mouth agape as he quickly understood he was fucked. And he was right, he lost like that, the money and contract to officially debut with a label passed through his hands to stay with his rival.

You stared, grimacing as he looked completely lost, sitting back in your seat defeated as everyone around you cheered for the winner. You felt so bad for him.

He tried to challenge the judges’ decision but it was too late, they and the public had made their choice. His mic got quickly cut off to let the winner talk and express his joy.

He had lost.

“Is it because of the stuff you take ?” You asked driving him to a bar to drink.

“Don’t start with it.”

“I’m not ! I just read it can fuck up someone’s memory ? Amongst other things.”

He didn’t reply, instead popping a pill into his mouth as you rolled your eyes. He was too pissed off to talk.

After a few days he crashed at your place, depressed, claiming he had no money to pay his rent, but your flat was too small for two people to live in. Only one bed, no couch, barely 15m² to share together, the small kitchen with no oven a few feet away from the bed, and the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen, the sink and toilet next to the shower, barely leaving any room to move comfortably. And with Thanos with you it was worse.

Your bed was made for one, not two people, and with you two constantly tossing and turning at night, it was a nightmare, kicking and hitting one another, snoring into each other’s ears, drooling on each other’s clothes.

You’d sometimes wake up cuddling together though, bedsheets on the floor, but neither of you ever mentioned it, quickly pulling from one another as you had to leave for work.

You had seen each other naked more times than you could count and had to learn to take a shit while he was showering, and vice versa.

There also wasn’t enough hot water for two people.

“We could shower together.” He said once as you ate on the small table by the bed. You nearly choked on your food.

“Why would we do that ?” You asked after recovering, heart still beating fast.

“I’m tired of taking cold showers. It’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Dude, I’m the one who takes cold showers the most because you take so long before I can go in.”

“Still.”

“Plus, there’s barely any room for one person so two people in the shower ? Let’s just fuck already it’s the same.” You sighed.

It was his turn to choke on his food.

“Why the fuck would it be the same ?!”

“Because we’ll be so glued together it’ll be the same fucking thing ! Are you stupid ?”

He sighed. Sometimes you were driving him mad.

“And I don’t wanna see you shower from up close, I already see enough when brushing my teeth or pissing.”

“I’m just trying to find solutions.”

“Well, they’re shit. Keep looking pretty and eat instead of trying to ‘find solutions’”

He rolled his eyes, glaring at you, taking another bite of his food.

You still tried it.

Serious mistake.

Naked, you both stared at each other awkwardly before turning the water on. The silence was so loud if not for the sound of the water hitting your bodies, the shower felt even smaller and cramped than usual.

“This is literally the worst.” You said, clenching your teeth, praying to not get hard. You were not doing so well.

Thanos said nothing, focusing as much as he could on thinking about stuff he hated to not get hard as well.

You decided to both turn around, ass to ass, but it still felt too much.

“No, I can’t-” You tried to walk out of the shower but Thanos was faster, almost running away, nearly slipping on his way out, catching himself by the corner of the wall.

Then he came back, slowly, one hand hiding his dick as he grabbed his towel before leaving again.

You both took care of your hard on, slightly confused as you wondered why you still tried this bad idea, images of the other naked flashing in your head.

When you were done showering, you let him get in without a word as you walked out, tower wrapped around your waist.

It was awkward for a few days as you both refused to talk about what happened. But at some point Thanos had enough of it.

“Stop staring at me like I forced you to try it !”

“I’m not ! I agreed to try because I was curious.”

“Then why are you making it weird !”

“You are ! Not me !”

Silence.

“I didn’t get hard.” He suddenly said and you stared at him.

“…Me neither ?”

“Good.” He nodded. Still looking away.

Silence again.

“But uh, I saw your dick though, you looked pretty… hard.” You chuckled, half nervous, half amused.

“I was thinking about sexy girls !”

You laughed.

“Okay.” You replied. “Sure.”

“And I saw yours too when I went back for my towel.”

You hummed, not knowing what to say.

“Sexy girls too ?” He asked.

“Y- yeah, definitely, yeah.” You nodded and he hummed in response.

That’s the only time you spoke about it.

This was the push you needed to look for a new flat.

And so, you quickly left for a bigger one.

But a bigger one meant a bigger rent to pay, which meant you had to work two jobs to pay for it. But at least you had two bedrooms, an oven, a distinct living room with a couch and a TV, a bigger kitchen and a bathroom almost the size of your old flat. You still had to share it, yelling at him each time he didn’t clean up after himself, but at least you had enough hot water for the both of you and no more reason to shower together.

You were busting your ass with two jobs you hated to pay the rent and groceries while Thanos stayed at your shared place. He was still taking his pills each time he went clubbing, which was almost every night.

You wondered how he got the money for it, but didn’t think further, believing he still had some money but not enough to pay for big things.

Or so you thought.

One day as you got back home from work, you found Thanos’ phone on the table, unlocked. You grabbed it to give it back to him, briefly eyeing what was on the screen as it buzzed in your hand.

You saw an app you yourself had on your phone. You used it to invest in crypto money, you had paid around 910 000 won to collect some coins, waiting for the right time to sell them back, hoping one day you’ll make enough to help you pay the rent, if not pay you some vacations.

“Here’s your phone.” You said, handing it to him. “I saw an app on your phone. You invest in crypto too ?” You asked, plopping on the couch next to him.

He quickly thanked you before nodding, focusing back on the TV.

“With what money ?” You suddenly asked out loud. You were curious.

“The one I won by rapping. I made some money with the second place.” He simply said.

“Huh ?” You looked at him confused, he managed to make money ?

“But I lost it all.”

“Oh.” You continued looking at him.

“It’s because of that bastard MG Coin and his fucking Dalmatian token.” He groaned, unlocking his phone, clicking on the app and showing you the coin.

“How much did you…” You began asking as you suddenly saw the amount he had put on it. “500 million won ?!” Your eyes grew in size. Did you read correctly ? You grabbed his phone to have a better look. Was it really what he had invested ?

“Yeah. That’s why I was so pissed of the other d-”

“Are you fucking serious ?!”

It was his turn to look at you, slightly confused and startled by your tone.

“You had 500 million won and never thought you could help me pay rent or buy groceries or pay for Netflix or Disney + or fucking Spotify or whatever else we pay monthly ?!”

He looked at you then in front of himself, not knowing what to reply.

“What the fuck, Subong. I literally work two jobs to makes ends meet every month, I always pay you stuff thinking you have no money and your out there with 500 fucking million won !?”

You stared at him, feeling your anger grow and grow as he stared at you, sheepish.

“I work in the restaurant business, do you know how shitty the people are ? Customers and colleagues ? They’re so comfortable they don’t even bother hiding their bigotry. The other day two colleagues lusted after two teenagers, barely 14. And even then I’m being nice, because 14 surely wasn't their age. My colleagues are in their thirties. And I can’t even say anything or I get fired and if I get fired I can’t pay the rent. Rent that you can pay since the very fucking beginning. Are you fucking kidding me ?!”

“[Name]-” He turned to you, placing a hand on your knee.

“No, fuck off !” You stood up. “What the fuck do you take me for ? A fucking pigeon ?! How long did you plan to use me like that ?!”

“That’s not-”

“Out.” You cut him off, pointing at the door.

“What ?”

“Take your shit and get the fuck out.”

“But I don’t-”

“Have any money ? Yeah, tell that to other pigeons. Maybe they’ll be dumb enough to believe you.”

“Come on, I’m serious, I just thought-”

“I’m serious too ! Get the fuck. Out. Of my. House !” You yelled, grabbing him, forcing him up and pushing him to his room. “Put your shit in a bag and leave.”

“[Name], please, I didn’t mean to. I promise I’ll find a job and help you.”

“Too late, don’t care, get out.” You replied dryly, entering his room, grabbing a backpack, opening his wardrobe and shoving his clothes inside.

“Stop it !” He rushed to you to try and stop you but you pushed him away.

“I’ve busted my ass for months ! Do you know how many times I thought about dying because of how much I hate my jobs ? But then shaking myself up because I thought I couldn’t leave you alone, believing you needed help ?!”

“I’m sorry-” He said, words you rarely ever hear from him.

“Shut up. I hate you.” You quickly replied, throwing the backpack at him. “You better help me pack your shit or I’ll throw it through the window.”

Thanos continued trying to get you to pardon him as you put his stuff into bags, but you refused to listen, hands on his back as you pushed him out of your shared apartment.

You locked the door behind him.

It was his turn to get angry, kicking the door, yelling at you to open it.

He gave it one last kick before leaving, cursing you out.

You were devastated, not believing he could’ve paid for things since the beginning. Why did he lie and said he had no money to pay his rent ? Why did he never help you pay for stuff ?

The first few nights he slept in his car, messaging you to let him back in. You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t really want to kick him out, but you were so mad and upset, feeling betrayed. You worked two jobs and he was at home, swallowing his pills and clubbing, enjoying his peace doing whatever he wanted while you felt stuck and trapped by your jobs, not knowing when you’ll be able to relax as well.

You wanted to accept him back to your shared apartment but each time you received a message or call from him your anger returned, ignoring him.

Thanos knew he had fucked up big time and he didn’t know how to make you forgive him since you refused to let him talk to you.

Walking on a bridge, he thought about ending it all. Feeling abandoned by the world.

Then his messages stopped. No longer bugging you to let him in, to forgive him, trying to beg his way into your no longer shared apartment.

You thought he had finally understood to give you time, but days passed, then weeks. You tried to call him but you went straight to voicemail. You sent him messages, all unread. Did his phone die ? Did he not find a hotel room in the city to stay at ?

You called his parents, but just like you, they hadn’t heard from him in a while. So you went to the police to report a missing person.

Then months passed and still nothing from him. You were beyond worried. He was missing and it was your fault. If you hadn’t kicked him out, he would’ve been here with you.

Although you still struggled with paying the rent, you refused to leave the apartment in case Thanos would come back. You didn’t want him to find someone else where you both lived. Daily, you checked his platforms in case he might post, like or repost something, but nothing. Even his fans were beginning to worry about his lack of activity.

You were beginning to panic. What if he died ?

Where ? Why is his body still not found ?

A year had passed and still nothing, time continued passing as you kept thinking about him. The police eventually told you they were soon stopping the research. He was most likely dead.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have kicked him out. It was impulsif and not thought through. You should’ve told him to come back. You should’ve forgiven him. You should’ve gone after him sooner.

You forever regretted your actions.

[r3dblccd]

Your Dating Service

Date with Minsung. Date Fee: $50 Customer Comments: "I think… I've fallen in love♡ (Female in 30s)" //now he doesn't usually go for people that are older than him, more towards those in his age range, but he doesn't discriminate. And honestly, same, girl, I would have fallen in love too. But, if it was up to him, he wouldn't even charge for his services, he'd just want to give people company, he's got more than enough money already.

Date with Yongsun. Date Fee: $400 Customer Comments: "I was more than happy to be by their side... (Person in 50s)" //listen, if you're rich all your money will be going to him soon, but at least you'll be having a good time, this is why he's so popular at the club. And yes, not even your father and grandpa are safe with him if they look fine

+++ many more under the cut bc I have no self control (muses included cause I ain't tagging them all to save you time from scrolling: Navi, Tai, Azazel, Azalia, Ubon, Jum, Jinkyong, Abaddon, Dabi, Nao. Do let me know if there's anyone else you wanna see for me to do a pt. 2... Who are we lying to, I will do a pt. 2 either way dghdfjg)

Date with Navi. Date Fee: $250 Customer Comments: "It was so much fun! I want to go out with Navi again!! (Person in late 30s)"

Date with Tai. Date Fee: $50 Customer Comments: "I didn't expect them to wear that outfit... (Person in 60s)" //ah, yes, a fit that could make even Yongsun clutch his pearls (that's a lie, he's got some modesty at least)

Date with Azazel. Date Fee: $29.99 Customer Comments: "Azazel, will you marry me? (Male in late 50s)" //I am starting to see a trend here, but older people are a big yes for him

Date with Ubon. Date Fee: $50 Customer Comments: "I want to do...more with Ubon... (Male in 20s)" //don't we all

Date with Jum. Date Fee: $156 Customer Comments: "My heart hurts without them... I want to see Jum again.... (Female in 20s)" //I... am so sorry to break this news to you, girl, but things are gonna stay just friendly with you two, but it is true Jum is a cinnamonroll

Date with Jinkyong. Date Fee: $51.37 Customer Comments: "Smells nice. (Person in 30s)" //facts

Date with Abaddon. Date Fee: $25 Customer Comments: "It was..okay.....I guess.. (Female in late 40s)" //Iwai we see you hiding in there

Date with Dabi. Date Fee: $2 Customer Comments: "I'm never dating again. (Person in 60s)" //UNACCEPTABLEEEEE. They couldn't handle the cunty bob

Date with Azalia. Date Fee: $1342.57 Customer Comments: "This was a mistake. (Male in late 20s)" //well, duh, because u're a dude. Women on the other hand--- (I just *had* to use this gif for this result sorry)

Date with Nao. Date Fee: $917 Customer Comments: "Please erase my memories with Nao...Please... (Female in late 30s)" //maybe Azalia and Nao should have switched their customers, again, your fist mistake was being a woman hiring the most gay guy on this blog ever

[nothingbutloveforyou]

can't remember the last time i didn't wish for love when i blew out candles, wished on shooting stars, or stray lashes, dandelions, just any opportunity i could get to make sure my desire was heard. oh well, here we are :)

[stillfruit]

edward elric, protector of dogs (x)

[haru-chi]

-a bit Manga Spoiler ahead-

The more I think about it the more I just don't know what to feel about doing Miharu's arc before doing an extended hand story ><

tbh I feared them doing that and was talking about this with a friend before the Miharu's arc preview even dropped but since they did a pretty good job so far this season unlike the past two, I wanted to have faith ...

maybe it's fine to do it after which would result in different reaction yet reach the same end plus it's up to oneself to decide how to perceive something ...

personally speaking, I don't want Miharu's arc before the extended hand story ... for me it won't hit the same ...

don't get me wrong ... be it I saw it before or after I know Miharu's arc will always be special to me ...

but you know, being "special" hold different kind of meaning ... the Miharu's arc being "special" without an extended hand prior knowledge will be different than it being "special" with that knowledge beforehand .... it won't be same for me ... the experience will be different .. the reaction will be different ... I don't know if I make any sense but don't know how to explain it well enough ><

I'm not only talking about how Seiji's reaction is different in both stories when Natori offered him help .. nor am I talking about how their relationship in it was pretty positive by its end ...

it's something more than just those ...

a glimpse at Seiji's family burden

Seiji's sad wish of wanting a Shiki

Natori trying to understand him

it's those little details, those unspoken things that change your view of characters and character's reaction in stories ...

that's why when you read/watch Miharu's arc with this knowledge it makes it so different ... everything is just so different since Miharu's arc expand on those same ideas while adding more .. this same burden .. this same sad wish .. this same delicate and complicated relationship between Seiji and Natori ...

Miharu's arc something too special for me, that it felt unreal to have sometimes ... but I don't think it would've been so without an extended hand story ..

as I said it would've been still special even without it but wouldn't be the same kind of special :)

also, I guess the questions and mystery would've been different in a way too by the end of it or throughout the story ...

I know cuz what I asked about and was killing myself to know throughout Miharu's arc was questions I wouldn't have asked nor considered if I didn't know an extended hand beforehand ^^

anyway, in the end since the anime team decided to change the order of events, I hope Manga reader don't ruin anything for anime-only or spoil an extended hand for them for the sake of Miharu's arc (surely the anime will adapt it) or make them feel they're missing something out if they didn't ask for it themselves ...

let them live and enjoy their own type of experience and memories while we watch over them silently ^^

I'm only sharing my view and emotions regarding the matter since I can't deny I'm a bit sad since I wanted my friend to live through the same experience as close as possible but oh well ...

[daily-hanamura]

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

.

[swordheld]

how do you think in poems? i really enjoy the tags under your posts i've always wanted to write down my own thoughts that way bc in my head they feel so thorough and magical but whenever i put it in words i feel it just gets so much flatter and i no longer see a point and give up

oh oh oh, but lovely, can't you see that you've already started? it's a perspective that you hone, over time, something that is specific to you and you alone – that's the piece of it that makes it so special! you've already begun, and it only goes forward, up, sideways from here, wherever you wish to go!

think of it like a skill, for a moment, or a kind of muscle, if you'd prefer. you have to work at it, with it, over time and differing experiences, in order to progress.

(a quick important note: not progression as in the kind of quality-check of a grading scale, but progression as in evolution. shifting change. think of the leaves and their colors across the months of autumn, or temperatures rising with the sun and cooling with the evening dark. change isn't intrinsically a qualifying thing, it can just be, sometimes. this is difficult to remember, especially in the midst of frustration, but it is worth it. you are always doing better than you think you are – harshest critic, and all that.)

which is not to say that it's a simple thing to do! compare this to the vibe of me picking up crochet recently, with my shaking hands and too-quickly dwindling adhd focus – my first attempts at making a lil headphone sprout have not been going as well as i once hoped. my stitches are either too big and sloppy bc i'm not holding the yarn tightly enough to get clean ones, or i feel frustrated due to it not looking like how i'd like it to look in my mind when i started it, or even as i begin my umpteenth attempt.

but!! i know that it won't ever look the way i want it do if i set it down and never keep trying. it'll take awhile, like everything does, even the seasons take their time, the moon and its phases; but what i do know, is that, eventually, it'll resemble something i want it to. vaguely, maybe, but it is something. it doesn't have to look exactly like the guide i'm following, or the examples i'm inspired by, because it's mine – something made by my own hands, my own time and experience with every mistake and thrilling joy along the way to learn by.

take it from me: i want to be good at things i want to be good at so badly. and that excitement makes me want to be at the skill level i need to be at in order to do so right then and there, no learning curves or building blocks allowed. which is never how it happens, unfortunately, but –

i think, gently, that we tend to overlook what a pleasure it is to learn. to see the slow progression of things, to begin and change and continue and get better. and even if it's different as we go along, in a way it's our own little kind of magic, maybe, to create and never be done if we don't want to be.

which is all to say: it's already yours. why does it have to be anything else, anything more? why can't it just be good as it is now, where it might never be again? what is there to lose by enjoying the moment of where you are?

like everything, it will grow and shift and evolve with time, maybe into something you'd hoped for, or maybe into something you don't even have the words to describe right now at all. but that's the fun of it: how even now, even then, there, across time and distance and skill, there is a common thread of things; it will always come from your heart, your experience, where you are right then and there and now.

and if you think of that like magic, well, it becomes a little like magic, doesn't it?

also, something to consider: sometimes things you feel or think can't be put into words at that moment, or even at all! something else you could try (that i certainly do) is making something else with whatever it makes you feel - whether that's another form of art, or any other kind of media. if it makes you want to go outside and take a walk or get cozy and read or play a video game? that counts too! that's still an experience, you're still feeling.

i think that counts a little more than anything else, you know?

and as a little ending fun side-note, can i share something cool? i've never thought of it that way before, as thinking in poems. in my mind it's always been a kind of perspective of personal wonder, but you're right – it's poetry, in it's own way. you gave me that – so thank you, from the heart of me. i hope your journey finds you with every bright joy.

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[unma]

In relation to the tags on the post about my birthday: I wonder if its normal to be unable to remember what happened on your birthday two years ago or before that. I guess if I looked at the dates and check when I graduated from secondary school (the first time) I could remember a few things, but I'm beginning to remember my memory is real spotty.

[neverendingford]

.