#My handwriting looks so terrible here oh my god

[clavissionary-position]

Divine Protection Package

Azel: (polite voice) It's almost here.

Emma: (still recovering from hauling stuff to the temple all morning) What...?

Azel: (benevolent smile) A terrible affliction of the body will come to grip you in less than two days' time.

Emma: What?

Azel: Indeed. And while not life-threatening, usually, your experience will only be that of pain and suffering.

Emma: What? What is it?

Azel: Something so unspeakable that it makes even God break out in a cold sweat. But fret not, for I've outlined a—

Emma: —a payment plan.

Azel: (frowns for a second) Yes, a payment plan. (pulls the document out from nowhere) As usual, you have several tiers to choose from based on your financial ability.

Emma: (looks through) As usual, I can just barely afford the cheapest tier. What's in these packages? What exactly am I paying for?

Azel: God's Divine Protection, obviously. You are always free to decline and endure the cataclysm alone though.

Emma: I don't think I want to risk it. Your 0% failure rate freaks me out more than anything.

Azel: So it goes. Please fill out this form here, and please stay as far away from me and the temple for the next five to eight days.

✩

Emma: (moaning in bed two days later) Oh god, it's... it's happening... it's... it's...

Emma: Wait a minute. This is just my period.

Emma: (opens up the Divine Protection Package) Aw, Azel...

Azel's Note: (after taking five attempts to decipher the handwriting) I figured you'd go for the cheapest tier, so I tossed in some extra stuff from the higher ones. Only SOME stuff, okay? Don't go thinking I put everything I had into this one box. I'm already operating at a loss here. Anyway, I meant it. Stay the hell away from me until you're done. If you need me for anything, just get some sleep. Get some sleep anyway. But I'll come meet you in your dreams.

[gingerdraw-blog]

I got silly with the prompt generator AGAIN

TW Y/N IS HERE TOO AND THERE'S ALSO SHIPS LIKE LASERFROG AND RAYFROG (and also x reader AND JADE IS HERE TOO)(Y/N being a dumbass LIKE FR ITS STUPID) UMM SUGGESTIVE TOPICS???? YEAH YEAH SUGGESTIVE TOPICS

Ramon: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Y/N : I sleep with a knife.

Dolph: Both of you are pathetic.

Ramon: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Dolph: Bullfrog

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Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Dolph, with Bullfrog and Ramon behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Ramon: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Bullfrog: Y/N FUCKING FELL OFF!

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Y/N : *sees Ramon and Bullfrog together*

Y/N : They're cute. I would put them on a boat.

Dolph: You mean... you ship them?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon: Where is Y/N ?

Bullfrog : I'll do you one better, who is Y/N ??

Dolph: Here's a better question, why is Y/N ?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon : Where's Dolph?

Y/N : Don't worry, I'll find them.

Y/N , shouting : Bullfrog sucks!

Dolph, distantly: Bullfrog is the best person ever! Fuck you!

Y/N : Found them.

------------------------------------------------------------------

(again but rayfrog version because I'm multishipper)

Dolph: Where's Ramon?

Y/N : Don't worry, I'll find them.

Y/N , shouting: Bullfrog sucks!

Ramon, distantly: Bullfrog is the best person ever! Fuck you!

Y/N : Found them.

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Ramon: Is the plural of milf/dilf milfs/dilfs or milves/dilves?

Y/N : Milfs.

Dolph: Milf/dilf is an acronym, you can't change the spelling to milves/dilves.

Ramon: Wait, they're acronyms? What do they stand for???

Jade : Mom in late forties, dad in late fourties.

Jade : I learned that from the movie called M.I.L.F that I saw the trailer of in theaters probably 5 to 7 years ago.

Dolph: Mom/dad I'd Love to Fuck.

Ramon: WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK—

Ramon: I NEVER REALIZED IT WAS ACTUALLY HORNY!

Jade : Oh, is it not mom in late fouries?

Y/N : What? No! It isn't!

Jade : THE MOVIE TRAILER LIED TO ME!

Dolph: Jade ...

Jade : THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T THINK CALLING PEOPLE MILFS WAS ALL THAT BAD BECAUSE IT STOOD FOR SOMETHING HARMLESS IT JUST HAD A SLIGHTLY SEXUAL CONNOTATION!

Dolph: I am entirely unsurprised that this is coming from you.

Jade : RAMON, DOES IT MAKE SENSE WHY I CALLED THE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID MOM A MILF NOW BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A DESCRIPTOR WITH FUNNY CONNOTATION!

Ramon: The word milf has been ruined for me.

Y/N : THAT'S ITS DEFINITION, IT CAN'T BE RUINED THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

Dolph: Y'all are dumbasses.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N : It’s Christmas! Are you all in a Christmas mood?!

Bullfrog : Merry crisis.

Jade : Jingle bells, jingle bells, single all the way.

Ramon: Hoe hoe hoe.

Y/N : Guys, please.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Jade , writing in a letter: "I'm going to kick.. your... ass."

Jade : THERE. Now send it.

Ramon:: Dude, your handwriting's terrible, are you sure you want to-

Jade : JUST DO IT!

later

Y/N : So what does it say?

Dolph, reading the letter: They say they're going to "lick my...."

Y/N :

Dolph:

Y/N : Gross-

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”.

Jade : *looks over at Y/N and Dolph* Jade : Is it “sexual tension”?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bullfrog : Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Y/N: Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Ramon : Ya know... it might be.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon , looking through their clothes: Has anyone seen my top?

Y/N: Bullfrog 's in the kitchen.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bullfrog , gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

Y/N: Yeah, sure.

*A few minutes later*

Y/N: Here you go.

Bullfrog :

Y/N:

Ramon : Why am I here?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: We need a diversion. I say Ramon gets naked.

Bullfrog : No.

Y/N: I could get naked.

The squad: NO!!!

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bullfrog : What did Ramon do this time?

Y/N: More like WHO did Ramon do this time?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: I'm gonna eat the chicken breasts!

Ramon , snickering: Yeah, eat what you lack.

Bullfrog , deadpanning at Ramon : Then maybe I should order brains on delivery for you.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bullfrog : How do you tell someone that you wanna have sex with them in a polite way?

Ramon : Excuse me Mx. Would you give me the honours of indulging in sexual activities with you?

Y/N: What the fuck is wrong with you two?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Thank you all for coming.

Bullfrog , wearing a hospital gown: When I heard you couldn't get laid, I dropped everything and came straight here.

Y/N: Well, I couldn't imagine anyone else being part of the "Fuck Y/N Task Force".

Ramon : Yeah, I interpreted that in a different way.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Ramon : The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Y/N: Stop.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Bullfrog : Are you trying to seduce me?

Y/N: Why, are you seducible?

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon : I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight.

Y/N: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?

Ramon , already taking off their clothes: God, Y/N, you’re so fucking stupid.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ramon : Two brooooos!

Y/N: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Ramon : Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Y/N:

Ramon :

Y/N: *tearing up*

Ramon : Babe, c'mon...

Y/N: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Ramon : Babe...

------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N: The stars are so beautiful...

Ramon : They're just giant balls of gas.

Y/N: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-

Ramon : And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.

Y/N: Oh...

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[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 ao3

It’s quiet for the whole day. Eddie wakes up mid-afternoon, sees that a doughnut has been left for him in a paper bag on the coffee table. It takes a few minutes more for him to realise that it’s still just the two of them in the house—that Steve must’ve told everyone not to call, not to come over.

Eddie’s chest almost hurts at the thoughtfulness behind it—but he’s not surprised by it, not now. Not since he saw Steve in the RV keep the volume of the radio down low, even as the clock in his head grew ever closer, just so his friends could sleep a little longer.

And the quiet means Eddie, too, can just… stay. Rest.

He’s glad of it, even though a part of him thinks it’s stupid—that save for that terrible night, this might be the most exhausted he’s ever felt. He’s not even done anything, but his body still aches, like he’s only just finished running from the trailer park.

There’s the ghost of pain at his knee, as if his brain has finally remembered a past hurt. He thinks of Nancy telling him that he fell. “I was so scared you wouldn’t get up again.”

Steve seems to understand implicitly. He does most of the fetching of food and drink, and when Eddie tries to protest, he doesn’t make it a big deal, just says that he wants more practice on the crutches; he phrases it in such a way that it sounds like Eddie is doing him a favour rather than the other way around.

“Hey, check it out,” Steve says, halfway from the couch to the kitchen. “I can really move on these things now.” And he very briefly swivels in place on the crutches, as if he’s leaning on dancing canes instead.

Eddie snorts, feels a rush of fondness. “All right, cool it, Fred Astaire.”

For dinner, they eat defrosted spaghetti bolognese from Joyce. Eddie teases Steve when he notices that he can twirl the pasta perfectly around his fork.

“Sorry, what the hell is that, Harrington? We in a goddamn commercial right now?”

Steve elbows him. “Shut up or I’m stealing your portion.”

It’s kind of unnecessary, for them both to be sharing the one couch. Neither of them bring that up.

-

When clearing away some of the VHS tapes, Steve finds a notepad that doesn’t belong to him. He scans it with interest, then chuckles.

“Oh my god, look at this.”

He beckons Eddie to look at one of the pages.

Eddie leans in. The page is covered in writing, to the point that the white of the paper is almost invisible. The handwriting keeps changing, too, never the same on each line…

And Eddie realises that this has been written by the kids—all of them.

It acts as a log, of sorts: them recording their impressions of each musical watched while staying here. El has drawn a wonky cluster of five stars for The Sound of Music—has signed it with her name and a smiley face.

In the margins, Eddie can see them voting on whatever they want to watch next, laughs as he comes across Dustin and Erica bickering:

Erica picked last time! You’re not allowed an opinion, Dusty-Bun

But there’s more than just talk about the movies. Part of the page has been separated by solid lines in pen, forming a box. What’s written inside is much neater: updates on Steve’s progress in the hospital. At the bottom of the square, Eddie recognises Dustin’s handwriting instantly—cramped and hurried, like when he’s excitedly jotting down details during a campaign.

He can come home!!!

When Eddie glances over at Steve, he’s still looking down at the paper, smiling like it’s some art project he wants to stick on his fridge.

“They’re so stupid,” he says, and so clearly means something else. He carefully sets the notepad aside. “I kinda want to frame it.”

They lie on the couch in comfortable silence for a while. The sight of the kids’ writing reminds Eddie of the pencil marks he saw in Steve’s poetry book, evidence of him underlining particular lines.

“Hey, did you—uh, did you always like poetry?”

Steve gives him a sideways look, smirks slightly. “What’s up, you doubting my credentials? Did your ‘Munson Doctrine’ say I can’t read, either?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, I was just…” He leans on his elbow, turns further towards Steve. His voice quietens in sincerity. “Just curious.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Um…”

And huh, there’s that thing you do, Eddie thinks.

It’s like Steve has to prepare himself for honesty, work up to it. He thinks of that walk through the woods, being startled at the sound of Steve running up to him. “Eddie. Eddie. Hey, man. Uh… Listen, I just, uh… I just want to say thanks.”

Eddie remembers not knowing what to do in the face of an awkwardness that he didn’t expect, not from the likes of Steve Harrington. But more importantly, he was struck by the fact that Steve was so genuine. That once he got past the stops and starts, he meant every word, felt it deeply.

“It was in class, actually. It was… uh, we were looking at a Sylvia Plath poem?” Steve’s voice rises uncertainly at the end even though he’s not asking a question, and Eddie somehow knows then and there that he’s never told anyone this before. “Can’t remember the title, but um. Honestly? It stuck with me, ‘cause… kinda reminded me of my parents. Like, their marriage.”

Eddie opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then says, delicately, “Not the best omen.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Uh, that aside, there was like, a rhythm to it. I like when stuff… repeats, y’know? Hold on, think I can remember the last…” His hand reaches up to bat the top of the couch in time with his words as he recites, a touch reserved, “My boy, it's your last resort. Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.” A tense little shrug. “Guess I’ve got a thing for last lines.”

Eddie thinks of I was much too far out all my life/And not waving but drowning. 

In the ensuing silence, Steve looks like he’s very subtly holding his breath—as if waiting for Eddie to show one hint of discomfort. Like he’s ready to instantly regret speaking.

So Eddie keeps his tone light, says, “That’s… kind of fucked up, man. Very niche though, I approve.” And he feels Steve relax—his good leg touching Eddie’s, thigh to knee. He senses that it’s safe enough to joke a little more, adds, “You should start a support group or something.”

“What?”

Eddie mimes holding a microphone, affects a news reporter’s grave tone. “If you have been affected by poetry, we advise you to call—”

“God, you’re so dumb,” Steve says, grinning. “You know when you did those, like, bits at lunch, y’know, all the voices, I used to think, Who does this asshole think he is?”

Steve’s voice is warm, so Eddie just tries to quip back, “Pretty sure you and half the damn school thought that.” He’s joking, he really is, but he can feel a little wisp of bitterness slip through despite himself.

And Steve must catch it, because he suddenly looks a bit contrite, replies quietly, “Not like that.”

Steve’s eyes flicker down to the left in thought—and there he goes again, Eddie thinks. Working up to something.

“I knew part of your deal with D&D was, like, storytelling, right? And you… I dunno if you remember, but the school used one of your short stories as… an exemplar? It was anonymised, in one of those study packets they’d—”

“Oh, those,” Eddie says. “Never read ‘em.”

Steve chuckles. “Well I could tell it was you. ‘Cause it was freaking nuts, man, all these like, myths and heroes, and it just… God, I kept thinking it came so naturally to you.” He shrugs again, more bashful. “Guess I was jealous.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You were?”

Steve smiles as if to say Well, what can you do? “I applied to college, like, for writing and stuff.” His smile turns self-deprecating as he says, “Didn’t get in, obviously.”

“Huh,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “What did you wanna write about?”

Steve laughs. “Uh, don’t think it was your scene, man. No dragons or… Just kinda. Ordinary stuff? Like, basketball games or—”

“Basketball games,” Eddie echoes with an impish little smile, and Steve elbows him in the ribs.

“Not just basketball, you dick.” But he’s still smiling as he says it. “Or, I s’pose, yeah, basketball but, like, it’s also about something else…? Normal things, but… more, I guess. I don’t know, man, you’re better with words, I just—”

“You know, I don’t think that’s true,” Eddie says quietly, privately recalling, “Whenever I looked at you… all that shit… never touched you. You just stayed… you were so… lovely.”

“When all of The Upside Down stuff started,” Steve continues, as if he’s not even heard Eddie speak, “for a while, it was… it was all I could think about. Y’know, it was like one of your stories, just… like, fantasy. Unreal. And obviously, I couldn’t just… like, can you imagine if I filled my college application with all this shit? Just asking for someone to…”

Steve makes a slashing motion across his neck, and Eddie winces slightly at how his fingers graze the scar there.

There’s a lull, and then Steve gives a little sigh, speaks again.

“I don’t even think I finished my application properly, it was kind of a blur. Just sent it off ‘cause, well, I had to at that point.” He crooks an arm behind his head, blinks pensively. “Guess all of… uh, everything, sorta… stole my words.” He huffs with another one of those self-effacing smiles. “God, that sounds dumb.”

Eddie tilts his head from where he’s resting on the arm of the couch. Looks at Steve, his side-profile, the thoughtful curve of one eyebrow. Thinks that he gets it; that sometimes there are no words for something like this.

“No,” he says honestly. “It doesn’t sound dumb, Steve.”

Steve breathes in and out, relaxed and easy. His chest only stutters a little, a remnant of… before. His knee presses further against Eddie’s, as if in silent gratitude.

“Do you remember…” Steve starts, and there’s already laughter in his voice; he’s still looking up at the ceiling as if whatever memory he’s thinking about is being projected on there, like a private cinema. “Remember when… y’know, that English class, last period. When we had to read, um, a play. Williams something?”

Eddie thinks. “Oh. A Streetcar Named Desire?”

Steve clicks his fingers. “That’s the one. We were made to read it out loud; it took forever. And you—” He laughs up at the ceiling again, joyful creases around his eyes. “You kept talking over the girl that got Blanche’s part, do you—?”

“Didn’t know I made such an impression,” Eddie teases. He vaguely recalls completely overselling a breathy Southern Belle accent—definitely remembers getting sent out of class for being ‘a disruptive influence.’

Steve turns his head to the side, glances at him. Grins. “Hey, I thought you were a riot, man. Least you made it come to life with how you, like, delivered everything. Everyone else made it sound so boring.”

“Well.” Eddie manages an imperious flick of the wrist, feels a sudden heat to his cheeks. “Guess no-one else appreciated my talents, huh?”

And even though Eddie’s being flippant, Steve replies, with all sincerity, “No. They really didn’t.”

-

Eddie doesn’t know what time it is, when it happens. Just knows that it’s growing late, that Steve’s quietly flicking through a magazine next to him—that nothing is happening, but his mind has apparently decided to freak out anyway.

He reluctantly gets it, though; has kind of suspected that perhaps he’s just been staving off the panic from last night, that maybe that’s why he’s felt drained all day.

He grits his teeth against the feeling, tries to keep quiet.

But maybe Steve notices precisely because of his attempt at silence. Suddenly the magazine has been dropped, and Eddie feels a hand around his wrist.

“Hey, are you—? Shit, your heart’s going like crazy.”

Eddie screws his eyes shut. “Yeah, m’fine. It’ll pass. Th-think it’s just—” He shudders out a breath as Steve’s fingers stroke over his pulse point. “Just. Last night, it was—the first time I’d driven… there. Since. Y’know.”

“Oh. I’m—”

“If you apologise one more time, I’m gonna push you off the goddamn couch, Harrington, and then where will we be?”

“Uh. Well, I’d be on the floor?”

Eddie laughs shakily—from the way Steve squeezes his hand, knows that that had been his aim.

-

It does pass, eventually. Eddie manages a deep, proper breath in and out—feels, embarrassingly, a bit like he’s run a marathon.

Steve finally lets go of his hand to pick up a thicker blanket from the floor, drapes it over them both. The warmth gradually makes Eddie sleepy. He loses track of time. Doesn’t know when his eyelids become too heavy to open.

He hazily feels a hand in his hair, Steve’s fingers working in little absent-minded circles, like he’s not even aware that he’s doing it.

“Gonna f’ll ‘sleep,” Eddie mumbles, “if y’keep tha’ up.”

Steve’s hand stills for just a moment. He hears Steve sigh out a soft, “Oh, you’re so tired,” like he’s fretting a bit. He resumes playing with Eddie’s hair, and this time, while it’s still gentle, there’s more of an intentionality to it.

Eddie thinks he turns his head into the touch, but he’s honestly not sure. Feels somehow both weightless and heavy. Wants to lie on this couch forever, so long as Steve’s here. 

“Tell me something,” Eddie says, does his best to enunciate. He wants to linger in this cosy in-between for just a little…

“Hmm? Like what?”

“Um… wha’ kinda…” Eddie yawns. “Wha’s your favourite thing to read?”

Steve is silent for a little while, long enough for Eddie to jolt out of an unintended half-sleep when he does say something.

“What were your stories about?” Steve asks.

Eddie yawns again. There’s so much he could say, but long, rambling sentences feel far out of his reach. So he settles for, “S’bout… coming home, in the end.”

“Oh,” Steve says, then, “I like that.”

“Steeeve,” Eddie sings through another yawn. “Wha’ ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… I s’pose… I like stories where people are… lost, I guess. And then they’re… not anymore. Or maybe, they’ve been… like, searching for something without realising it.”

Have you found it? Eddie thinks, his thoughts slipping away on a wave of sleepiness. Have you found what you’ve been looking for? 

He drifts off before he can ask.

[punsmaster69]

3/JAN/20XX

[The handwriting is basically chicken scratch. It's recognizable as distinctly not being Sans' handwriting.]

Hi.

Hello-

Should I write that in a journal? It's not mine, so...??

How does he usually format it?

Everyone else figured it out..

Okay! I'm just!! Going to.

Write.

"Are you sure you will be alright to do this, Sans?"

"not like i can lay around and do nothin'."

"distracting is the easiest part i could be doing anyway."

"If you are certain."

"You and Mettaton are in charge of getting the decorations up, it was?"

Mettaton looked at me, then back to Toriel with a nod.

"Mhm."

"Blooky, dear, you can play birthday tunes, can't you?"

"...i can.. find something, probably..."

Undyne raised Frisk's arm, lifting them off the floor just slightly.

"We'll help with the cupcakes!!"

Frisk, unphased, gave a thumbs up.

"Grillby will be keeping in communication with Sans, ensuring it goes smoothly."

"Flowey, will you still be on watch with him? As a precaution."

"In case Trashbag can't keep Papyrus away long enough? Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"pretty much."

Toriel started like she was going to say something to Flowey, but released it with a sigh.

I think she's given up on scolding him for that nickname anymore. It's just what he calls Sans now.

Despite that, sometimes it seems like he might kind of...

Kind of like Sans?

A little?

"Trashbag, you better not keel over while we're doing this."

"You'll make everyone's jobs harder."

Maybe?

"At least wait until the fifth to die."

Might just be hopeful.

"He is not dying."

"that'd be a terrible birthday present."

"Death as a gift..."

"Sounds like a sick metal band or something."

"O-Or like, a one-liner in an action movie!"

"Not to break the convo, dears, but don't you think Papyrus will be getting suspicious here shortly?"

"he's already started sending question marks in the group chat."

"Well. If all is set and agreed, then all that is left is to wait for tomorrow."

"Thank you for allowing us to use the space, Grillby."

Grillby nodded at Toriel and she nodded back.

Me and Undyne walked with Sans back to his house. She says she's following in case Sans topples over.

Considering that Sans pretty much spent the entirety of the week (technically not a week fully but like almost a week so I'm counting it as a week-) barely able to get off the couch (or out of bed) without looking like a poorly balanced display skeleton in the wind, I get where she's coming from.

It's kind of concerning that he's behaving so normally today.

At least he let himself return to the couch upon getting home.

Papyrus was concerned as to where we disappeared with Sans to, but he ensured him that it was his idea.

"just wanted a quick visit to grillby's real quick."

"GRILLBY COULD PROBABLY BE CONVINCED TO COME HERE, IF HE KNEW THE SITUATION..."

"and take him out of work? it's fine. gotta get back on my own two feet at some point."

Oh my god.

I didn't even say what we were doing.

Papyrus' birthday is tomorrow.

Sans wanted to arrange a surprise party to raise Papyrus' sprits after all the stress lately.

Specifically noting that he doesn't want it to be the kind where everyone jumps out.

"paps is already jumpy from being anxiety-riddled all the time lately."

"being the cause of that anxiety already, the last thing i want is to make it worse by scarin' him."

Sans does video calls with his therapist sometimes, maybe Papyrus could use that kind of thing as well...

[jgjmk4-2]

Hello, thank you for tackling the other HC I asked about. I really like the way your write! 💞

So how about a HC of Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, Masamune, Shingen and Sasuke reacting to the MC who's hands shake so badly they can barely write or eat with chopsticks?

It's a very specific idea but I just need some fluff in my life. 🥹

Aw, thank you! Here is your fluff! 🥺 Thanks for being so patient for my reply @lovxhumans!😊

Nobunaga:

Tries to understand it. Cant understand it. It frustrates him to hell and back.

What's wrong with you? Why are you trembling like a scared lamb? The worst feeling is knowing he is the most powerful man in Japan and yet he can't do anything to cure you. He's brought all the doctors from all over the world, fed you all the medicine that might work and yet he still sees those beautiful hands tremble

Will kill anyone who dares to laugh at you, especially anyone who so snickers when you're trying to eat or read your shaky handwriting

Everytime he sees you start shaking he gently tells you to stop, he holds your small hands in his warm ones until it stops, telling you you're perfect the way you are when you try to apologise for being troublesome.

Mitsuhide:

At first he found it funny; why is my little mouse shaking like a little mouse?

When he realises you can't control it, the laughing stops. He observes you carefully, watching out for what your triggers are and what makes your shaking calm down or go away.

Once he's got a pretty good idea of that, it's a simple matter of eliminating your triggers. Does it happen when you're cold? Tight hugs to keep you warm. Does it happen when you're nervous and people are watching? No crowds for you.

When you're shaking horribly at a banquet, he will immediately take you away to another room. You wait together until the shaking stops and only go back in once he's very sure that you're okay with going back in.

Masamune

Challenges anyone to a duel if anyone dares to laugh at your struggles.

Jumps at any opportunity to distract you from your shaking hands. Will act so silly people are staring at him, not you.

Treats your hands shaking like it's a normal thing that everyone has so that you know you're not the werido or a freak those judgemental idiots shout. Your hands shaking is as casual and normal as simply forgetting to wear a thick haori in winter to him.

In front of you, he acts very casual about your hands shaking, "Oh, you're shaking again? C'mere, let me fix that for you!" And it's because it's a part of you he's accepted fully - to him, there is nothing wrong with your hands shaking as long as you're not sick.

Shingen:

When he first sees you shaking, he has a massive frown on his face. He was so worried that you were sick or something. He was so worried maybe you were hiding a big secret about your health from him like he did last time.

One afternoon after you finish having tea with Sasuke, Shingen, drops by and says 'we need to talk tonight'. He didn't mean to make you so nervous, he was just so busy but didn't want you to fall asleep first before he could talk to you tonight. God your hands were shaking.

It was quite a sight when he returned to your shared room and saw your whole body shaking. He actually panicked real bad because he thought something was terribly wrong. When he finds out it's nothing life threatening, he relaxes. After learning about your hands shaking from anxiety he is now always on the look out for your shaking hands. He'll hold them gently in his to give you comfort in crowds where people might judge.

When people ask about it, he always says that his angel is trying to shake him off and return to heaven so he's got to quickly catch your hands so you don't fly away!

Sasuke:

Is she too cold? Is this early signs of Parkinson's? So you have some sort of neurological disorder? Severe anxiety? Sasuke is relieved he known a bit of modern medicine to at least identify some of the causes which might lead to your hand shaking

But he curses himself for not knowing anything more than that. Even in the present there was no cure a disease like Parkinson's. Stressed and upset that you have to deal with a closed minded society that does not understand, Sasuke is forced to go back into the present to find some help for you. He calculates day and night for the next hazy storm that will bring both of you back and promises that he will do the best he can to come back to the Sengoku period once you're cured or have some sort of remedy. (Meanwhile Kenshin is an angry boy that his ninja is leaving).

You find a remedy in the present - some medicine that will ease the shaking and the two of you return to the Sengoku period. But that only lasts for so long, especially when you have to take a pill a day and without modern technology Sasuke cannot make anymore.

Sasuke puts his head down and he's back to calculating day and night. This time, he brings you to the future where he hopes there's a cure. If there is none, then he'll just have to go further into the future. The two of you will become a time travelling duo because there's nothing Sasuke won't do to make sure you don't have to suffer anymore.

...

On a side note, I recently downloaded ikesen again. I tried to do a data transfer but I guess I took too long to do it because my data couldn't be found (I uninstalled the game 1-2 years ago I think?) 😭 I didn't want to start again so I uninstalled again rip lol

But there are so new characters that I don't even know now and the new act 2 and prologue makes my head spin 😵 Kichou was kinda cute though😩 but with all the new stuff I don't think I can keep up 😢

[texancommie07]

"And everything was made for you and me

All of it was made for you and me

'Cause it just belongs to you and me

So let's take a ride and see what's mine"

Heavy Metal Valentines Day One: Confession

December 16th, 1984. Billy Had Only Been In Hawkins For About Two Months, And He Hated It Here. In Fact He Hated Everything About The Place.

Well... Almost Everything...

There Was One Thing There He Liked, Loved Even. The Problem Was How To Go About It.

Billy Didn't Know, He Wasn't The Kind Of Guy Who Caught Feelings, Well Ever Really, So He Did The First Things That Came To His Mind That Put Him At The Least Amount Of Risk Towards Getting His Shit Knocked.

He Wrote A Letter. Stupid Right? Well It Gets Even Stupider When You Know That He Didn't Even Come Up With The Letter. Nope, Just Took Some Lines That Were Commonly Used On Him, Slapped Them Together And Hoped For The Best.

Now He Just Has To Wait.

--------------------------------------------------

He Stood At The Rickety Old Table In The Woods. It Was About 9:00 p.m. And The Silence Was Creeping Him Out. You Didn't Really Get Quiet In California. He Was About To Head Home, Assuming That They Just Thought It Was A Joke, Until He Heard Footsteps.

"Hey Billy."

He Turned To Face Them. "The Hell Do You Mean 'Hey', How'd You Even Know I Was Here?" It Made No Sense. He Knew Eddie's Eyes Were Good, But It Was So Dark Out You Couldn't See A Foot Infront Of You. And He Was Facing Away!

"You Wrote The Letter, Right? The One Shoved In My Locker? I Recognized Your Handwriting."

"Oh..."

Billy Stood There, Slightly Stunned. He Didn't Know How To Move Forward, He Hadn't Really Planned This Far. He Didn't Even Expect Eddie To Show Up.

"So, Are You Gonna Tell Me What The Note Was About, Or Are You Just Trying To Have A Staring Contest With Me?" Even With How Dark It Was, Billy Could Practically See The Grin On Eddie's Face.

"Shut Up. You...I Haven't Been Here Long, But This Place Sucks. It's A Shit Hole Full Of Shit People."

"Very Astute Observation, Tiger. Anything Else You Wanna Tell Me About That Place Before We Continue The Grand Tour?"

"Shut Up! Lemme Finish Jackass." Billy Heard The Russeling Of Fabric As He Watched The Blob Of Eddie's Shadow Put It's Hands Up.

"I Hate This Place And Absolutely Nothing Good In It... Except For You... You're The Only Decent Thing About This Place. Hell, If People Saw The Way We Interacted, They Might Even Call Us Friends. But I Don't Wanna Be Friends." He Paused, Taking A Breath Before Speaking Up Again.

"I Wanna Be More Than That..I Like You More Than That. I Want You More Than That."

Billy Stopped, His Eyes Having Finally Started To Rejust After Opening Them Again(When Did He Close Them?), To Look At Eddie. They Were...Smiling?

There's No Way, But It Couldn't Be Anything Else, Billy Could See The Way Their Teeth Reflected The Moons Light.

"Well Well Well, Big Bad Billy Hargrove Is In Love With The Town Freak. Can't Say I Saw That Coming. Though, Can't Really Say I'm Upset About It. That'd Make Me A Pretty Big Hypocrite, Considering I'm Pretty Sure I Fell First."

Wait, "Fell First?"

"Oh Yeah, I Was Mildly Obsessed With You The Moment You Got Here, You Make Quite The Entrance, I Must Say. I Thought It Would Pass Like Most Feelings Like That, Aesthetic Attraction And Nothing More. But Then I Started Dealing With You, And, If I'm Being Completely Honest, I Think I Was Gone After Our Second Meeting."

Eddie's Tone Seemed Almost Sheepish, Like They Were Ashamed Of Admitting It, At Least To Billy. Billy Took The Risk.

"So, What I'm Hearing Is, You Wanna Be My Boyfriend, Maybe?" The Second The Words Left His Mouth He Cringed. God, He Was So Good With Women, How Was He Struggling This Hard?

Although, Maybe His Skills With Men Weren't As Terrible As He Thought, As Eddie Let Out A Cackle At His Response, Their Stupid Goblin Laugh Echoing Off The Trees.

"Yes Billy, I Would Be Delighted To Be Your Boyfriend."

Billy Was Actually Sunned, He Almost Couldn't Find It In Him To Speak. Almost.

"Can I Kiss You?"

"Please."

Sketch

[emlovesstates]

California: Oklahoma, what do you call people you go out with but don’t try to sleep with?

Oklahoma: ...People?

----/-----

Oklahoma: If it’s any consolation, they got me here on a very misleading text message.

California: Technically, you are about to be screwed in the biology room.

-----

Oklahoma: I committed all 7 deadly sins in 30 minutes.

California: Wow, I've gotta hear this.

Oklahoma: I was angry and envious of my neighbor so I lazily seduced his wife and ate all his groceries and didn't share.

California: You forgot pride.

Oklahoma: No, I'm pretty proud of this.

---

Oklahoma: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

California: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

-----

Oklahoma: Bro, I had a dream we fucked.

California: Bro, relax it was just a dream.

Oklahoma: Huh, gay, I wouldn’t fuck you.

California: You wouldn’t?

Oklahoma: I mean, unless you want to-

------

Oklahoma: What’s sexting?

California: I'm not having this conversation with you.

---

California: Know why I called you in here?

Oklahoma: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

California: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

-----

Oklahoma: Look, last night was a mistake.

California: A sexy mistake.

Oklahoma: No, just a regular mistake.

------

Oklahoma: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?

California: Nope, there's 26.

Oklahoma: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.

California: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.

Oklahoma: You'll get the D later ;).

-

Oklahoma, turning to California: Stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.

---

Oklahoma: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?

California: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves,

------

California: New York , you'll be working with Georgia and Oklahoma.

New York : Alright! My fantasy threesome!

Everyone else: *blank stares*

New York : ...Of people on a team.

------

New York , writing in a letter: "I'm going to kick.. your... ass."

New York : THERE. Now send it.

Oklahoma:: Dude, your handwriting's terrible, are you sure you want to-

New York : JUST DO IT!

later

California: So what does it say?

Georgia , reading the letter: They say they're going to "lick my...."

California:

Georgia :

California: Gross-

----

Oklahoma: Is the plural of milf/dilf milfs/dilfs or milves/dilves?

Georgia : Milfs.

New York : Milf/dilf is an acronym, you can't change the spelling to milves/dilves.

Oklahoma: Wait, they're acronyms? What do they stand for???

California: Mom in late forties, dad in late fourties.

California: I learned that from the movie called M.I.L.F that I saw the trailer of in theaters probably 5 to 7 years ago.

New York : Mom/dad I'd Love to Fuck.

Oklahoma: WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK—

Oklahoma: I NEVER REALIZED IT WAS ACTUALLY HORNY!

California: Oh, is it not mom in late fouries?

Georgia : What? No! It isn't!

California: THE MOVIE TRAILER LIED TO ME!

New York : California...

California: THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T THINK CALLING PEOPLE MILFS WAS ALL THAT BAD BECAUSE IT STOOD FOR SOMETHING HARMLESS IT JUST HAD A SLIGHTLY SEXUAL CONNOTATION!

New York : I am entirely unsurprised that this is coming from you.

California: OKLAHOMA, DOES IT MAKE SENSE WHY I CALLED THE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID MOM A MILF NOW BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A DESCRIPTOR WITH FUNNY CONNOTATION!

Oklahoma: The word milf has been ruined for me.

Georgia : THAT'S ITS DEFINITION, IT CAN'T BE RUINED THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

New York : Y'all are dumbasses.

-----

Oklahoma: So anyways have y'all seen New York ?

California: I think they went in Georgia 's room 'studying'.

Florida : Doubt that. I heard groans there.

*Meanwhile in Georgia 's room*

New York & Georgia , fighting:

-------

California: Isn’t it weird that we can’t ride any other animal except horses. Like if horses weren’t a thing, humans would be fucked cause we couldn’t ride any other animals. Like riding animals wouldn’t really be a thing. We should probably be more grateful to horses.

Florida : Elephants.

California: Blocked.

New York : Camels.

California: Extra blocked.

Georgia : Donkeys.

California: Ultra blocked.

Oklahoma: That dick.

California: ...Followed.

Or

Georgia : Isn’t it weird that we can’t ride any other animal except horses. Like if horses weren’t a thing, humans would be fucked cause we couldn’t ride any other animals. Like riding animals wouldn’t really be a thing. We should probably be more grateful to horses.

California: Elephants.

Georgia : Blocked.

Florida : Camels.

Georgia : Extra blocked.

Oklahoma: Donkeys.

Georgia : Ultra blocked.

New York : That dick.

Georgia : ...Followed.

----

California: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

New York : Sex.

Oklahoma: Seriously, answer faster.

New York : I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Oklahoma: It’s like a giant hug.

California: Georgia , what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Georgia : Food.

California: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Georgia : Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Florida : What about you Louisiana? What would you give up sex or food?

Louisiana: Oh... um... I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Florida : No, you gotta pick one.

Louisiana: Um, food... no, sex... no, food... sex... food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want hot people on bread!

---

Cali : Florida kissed me!

New York : Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Cali : It was unbelievable!

New York : Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Louisiana: Okay, we wanna hear everything. New York , get the wine and unplug the phone. Cali , does this end well or do we need tissues?

Cali : Oh, it ended very well.

New York : Do not start without me! Do not start without me!

Louisiana: Okay, alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Cali : Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Louisiana: Ohh... So, okay, were they holding you? Or were their hands on your back?

Cali : First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair.

New York and Louisiana: Ohhh.

*meanwhile*

Florida eating pizza in their house: And, uh, and then I kissed them.

Gov : Tongue?

Florida: Yeah.

Texas: Cool.

------

New York: Where's Oklahoma, California, and Georgia?

undefined: They're playing hide and seek.

New York: Where?

New Jersey: I don't think you get how this game works.

[dramallamas]

The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil. Episode Three Edition

Previous Episode || Next Episode

Cant wait to psychoanalyse this episode later with the scriptbook!

Jinmuk je te deteste dont even dare feel sad you monster

that shot of Juwon lazing on his sofa im down bad

He has nice handwriting tho

Honestly when is this man not thinking about Dongsik

The fly jumpscared me bc of my headphones

Dongsik you bastard (affectionately)

He is not ok rn

Juwon eavesdropping was me and my flatmate last night trying to find out the drama

The camerawork in this show is beautiful omg

Dongsik has no right to look this fine rn tho

Oop spotted!

Jihwa knew both of them were at the station lol

And bada bing bada boom we are in the recording room

And theyre off and Jihwa is so done

Juwon is so like WTF with this whole thing.

If looks could kill Dongsik would be dead 💀

why at 5am?! WHY WERE YOU UP AT 5AM?!

Bro Juwon doesnt hold back

Dongsik <3

Juwon could murder im sure of it. He has it ij him.

I like watching the gay men fight… because its fun :)

THE ONLY TIME I WILL AGREE WITH HAN KIHWAN IS RN “What a nut job. I like him [Dongsik].”

Juwon pissing off Kihwan is just so great at all times.

Theyre gonna find the wrong body and blow this case even bigger

Dongsik again <3 the onlt dilf of my life tbh

My heart breaks for him though. He masks a lot if pain

“What if I ran into older Yuyeon on the street, but failed to recognise her. That worries me a lot…” 💔

Fellas is it gay to stare at another mans smiling photo for a long time whilst in your room?

Juwon you have always been a crafty bitch and I respect that

YJG is a brilliant actor he is a master at subtle emotions which makes him one of the most expressive characters in the show

YAY you found a phone

Bad news for Juwon its Geumhwas phone that has his number.

Mate ur laughing like a maniac like dongsik does. You two arent as different as you think.

But my god you like to jump to the wrong conclusions

Watching the scene with nam sangbae and dongsik makes me cry but i cant because im in the living room with my flatmates. And the score in the background just 😭

Me 🤝 Dongsik : Laughing to hide pain

Man will stay in work just for Juwon

They back and forth in every scene like its all they do.

Mf going on about the culprit always returning to the scene and here comes JINMUK AHDKFMSP FORESHADOWING WE MISSED

Part of me think that Dongsik is suspicious of Jinmuk atp.

If you told them that they would be so close by the end of the series they would be fucking disgusted.

Oop juwon getting interrogated.

Juwon pausing before adding 요 at the end of his sentence like bro you are forgetting your respect conjugation

oh shit juwon not looking good for you is it.

"Given his nature, there is no way he [Juwon] would get involved in a crime" HYEOK YOU DONT EVEN KNOW-

Hyeok became his tutor in 2010... when JW was 17. does that mean that he helped JW in Korea rather than britain? or the tail end of britain onwards.

Hyeok you are such a kiss-ass

Do Haewon 🤢 she is so fake i hate it (which is the poing ig lmao)

LEE CHANGJIN. hes so funny for a bad guy

Jeongje is so frustrated with his mum (same)

Juwon is this close to slapping Hyeok at times.

aliens? rude much kihwan (what did we expect)

and there goes juwon loosing his cool.

annoyingly kihwan makes some points even if its for self centered gain. still hate kihwan dw

bro standing outside as ppl talk about him like 🧍

And then the eye contact between him and dongsik god having a whole silent conversation

Nice recovery juwon.

Them being nice to each other? NOT THIS EARLY BOIS

And boom personal space who? They dont know it.

Dongsik telling Juwon to go to therapy lmaooo

Juwon grabbing Dongsik probably became a… different thing later on yk? Hehe

This episode is basically Juwon and his terrible no good very bad couple days.

Bro you need to hike/walk more Juwon how are you already sweating.

You make think you have him, but nope he has you.

JUWON BREAKS INTO DS BASEMENT PART ONE HERE WE GO

The tiny bloodstain ofc. He def left it deliberately somewhat

And i am so hyped for episode four because of the incoming moments.

Juwon this isnt the victory you think it is trust me

see you all next episode! bye ^^

[callipraxia]

okay I’m here to thank you. Do you remember that post from like a Long Time Ago where you talked about what inks you used to plan/outline fwjb on paper? well, a few days after I heard about that, I went to the nearest store and bought the shittiest composition notebook and highlighters you’ve ever fucking seen in your life. then I forgot about it for like a very, Very long time. that's important context.

I suddenly remember it existed three days ago. I picked it up, decorated it, and colored two full pages of marker because. because well why not. The first couple pages are soaked in ink my bad. anyways—I finally decided to start actually WRITING in it, in PENCIL, because while actual writing notebooks would be a lot better than a Fucking Composition Notebook, I’m pinched. so. I did that. and guess what?!? it helped! it fucking helped! my weird ass outlines On Paper! I figured out a WHOLE Three Act Structure for do you remember hanging up the stars, AND have begun loosely sorting all of the POVs I have in the search for future reference. like?!? oh god it’s so helpful to have something I can Look At. very shitty picture attached (ignore the gagging mess of handwriting, never grew out of third grade cursive hybrid lettering, you might not even be able to read it--) (this is for the stars)

so… thank you! this was very helpful and that wasn’t your intention with the post but fuck all I Listened. you’ve got organized writing a lot more than I do, lol. will possibly take More Notes in the future…! :)

oh Wow now im getting feelings from showing off my handwriting to a public for the first time. hopefully this doesnt unlock and unbridled the terrible ordeal of being known anxiety! /lh

Ooh, cool! And your handwriting’s quite nice and very legible, so don’t be anxiety about it!

Composition books are also perfectly valid forms of writing notebook. I’m writing the first draft of Tracey’s journal in one, actually, because that’s the kind of notebook he’s writing in in-universe, and the McGucket memoir’s on a purple legal pad. The FWJB outlines and notes, meanwhile, were written mostly on loose sheets of printer paper, gathered into a folder (which proved invaluable as a supplement for my memory, which went into full leaky-faucet mode for a while halfway or so through IE cos COVID/2022 being Just The Worst Year). Most of my one-shots are written in my tiniest handwriting on bits of scrap paper, including a number of those alignment sheets the printer spits out when you plug it in. As much as I love good-quality notebooks, they aren’t always the right tool for the job…especially if you just hoard them and never deem any idea good enough to ‘waste’ them on (I’m convinced that getting the FWJB notebooks on clearance sale was directly tied psychologically to my willingness to actually use them, somehow or the other).

[nihilityart]

Infinity Incorrect Quotes 1.5

(The Sins and Rimuru)

——————————————

Mammon, writing in a letter: "I'm going to kick.. your... ass."

Mammon: THERE. Now send it.

Satan: Dude, your handwriting's terrible, are you sure you want to-

Mammon: JUST DO IT!

later

Rimuru: So what does it say?

Asmodeus, reading the letter: He says he’s going to "lick my...."

Rimuru:

Asmodeus:

Rimuru: Gross-

*Rimuru is in the kitchen and they hear a crash from the living room*

Rimuru, running into the living room: WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED HERE?!?!

Satan, looking at the broken TV screen and the remote on the floor: I was trying to throw the remote onto the TV stand!

Rimuru: And Belphegor didn’t stop you?!

Satan, pointing at a sleeping Belphegor: She’s been asleep for the past three hours.

Leviathan, walking in, oblivious to the situation: Hey guys-

Leviathan, realizing: Wait, is the TV broken? Why?!

Rimuru, pointing at Satan: He threw the remote onto the TV stand.

Leviathan: Come on! That’s the 5th time this week and it’s 2 in the morning on a Tuesday!

Belphegor, waking up to see the situation: *yawns* How long was I out?

Belphegor, seeing the broken TV: OH GOSH NOT AGAIN! SATAN, I TOLD YOU NOT TO!

Satan: You were asleep! And I always take a window of opportunity when I see it!

Rimuru and Leviathan, in unison: But you broke the-

Satan: My work here is done. If anyone asks, I was never. *dashes out of the living room*

Mammon: Hey, how did my phone break?

Satan: You were drunk yesterday.

Mammon: And?

Rimuru: You threw it.

Mammon: Why?

Belphegor: You turned on airplane mode and kept screaming “FLY DAMN YOU!”

Mammon: And why didn’t you stop me?!

Leviathan: We were busy laughing our asses off.

*Leviathan and Rimuru are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Leviathan: oh my god, Rimuru, backwards!

Rimuru: Really, Leviathan? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

Rimuru: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Satan: Where did you get that?

Rimuru: My pocket.

Satan: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Rimuru: Skills.

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia! 2, 6, 7 and 10 for the writing meme please

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

Hmmm.

Yes, but much much slower. And so also probably no, lol. At least not the way I'm currently doing it.

Look I type around 125-150 words per minute. Handwriting could never.

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

This one is tough. In a way, I've confronted some of my darkest fears about writing. I thought my writing was essentially terrible, and I realised that as long as it's mediocre, it's okay, and weirdly that nuked that fear outright. Realising many many writers are successful off pure mediocrity means I can be successful, I would prefer my writing be good, but it's no longer my darkest fear, that my writing is terrible.

And then I was afraid that people were just humouring me re: leaving comments and liking my story, and I was so fucking unhinged about this (hi I have multiple mental illnesses) I started a second secret account on AO3 and didn't tell anyone at my not_poignant account and I, um, wrote Stuck on the Puzzle and realised I was wrong.

And that's the story of how thespectaclesofthor came into existence. Part 'I need somewhere to write fanfic' and also part 'oh god what if no one likes my writing and I'm just

My real darkest fear these days is that I can never make a series as good as Fae Tales ever again. And that everyone knows this except me, and they're too kind to say so.

In good news, I'm generally absolutely wrong about my batshit darkest fears, so...

Like not everything I write will be a winner, but I think like - I still enjoy these stories, I still have something to say, I think it still has meaning, and I think it still has meaning to some people even if to some other people I will never write anything as good as Fae Tales ever again. I think that's why I struggle so much with the 'when will you write more Fae Tales' questions, because every single one feels like an axe to the chest, just repeated blow after blow of 'you'll never write anything as good as Fae Tales again, so just go back and keep writing that series and those characters.'

And that's why I tell people I need a long break from Fae Tales, because nothing helps you deal with a darkest fear than confronting it and seeing whether it's true or not by creating other series and seeing what happens.

I am scared though. Like, that's a very real fear.

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

There are two things, and they're equally side by side.

The first is the pure joy and satisfaction and catharsis in the process of writing. Sitting down to write these characters, even in their angstiest moments, feels like channeling pure Awen to me. It's hard to pin down, and the feeling of bringing a character through a challenge through to the other side is a strange, perfect feeling that I crave repeating over and over again.

The second is the pure joy and giddiness that comes from making connections with folks. Here or on AO3 or Discord or even in reading your public bookmark comments. When people say something about a story and it's like 'omg YES you PUT IT INTO WORDS' and they did it in two sentences and I needed like a whole novel, lol. (I am not succinct and won't pretend to be). When people used to say things to me like 'you're not alone in feeling this way' when it came to my own personal suffering, I kind of knew it was true in a distant way, but I didn't really know it. Writing aspects of that suffering dressed up in different characters let me know that I'm really not alone in feeling a bunch of ways, and even when I'm often writing things I haven't felt, the people who relate to those things are also not alone. Going into comments and seeing a bunch of people - many of whom are drawn to hurt/comfort for personal reasons - participate in something is a very anti-lonely experience for me.

And as a person who has been lonely all my life, there is joy in shining a light in the places where you previously thought you'd never talk to another person who 'gets it.' But now, thanks to these stories, I can experience that, I can watch some of you experience it.

Also like, an honourable third? Fanworks. Fanworks sdflkjfas that's why I have them on my wall and whiteboard and fridge and hanging in the lounge.

Was that too sentimental? Are you all rolling your eyes? I feel things pretty intensely lsdakjfsa

(I've answered 10 previously)

--

From the Weird Writing Asks meme!

[nightmare-in-the-woods]

This is an OC thing I wrote so uh enjoy!! It’s fluff, with a suggestive line but it’s just meant to be a fluffy thingy! Enjoy this very much self indulgent thing!!! It's meant to be an OC x Oc thing but can be read as an OC x reader because it's from an OCs perspective and I never named the second oc!

Everything hurts, why does everything hurt? I was in bed, surrounded by soft things, nothing should hurt. Wait, was I sleeping on my back weird again, gods I hate it when I do that. 

“Time to wake up, love. We’ve got to get down to the next town if you wish to keep on your schedule.” I whine and cuddle into the warmth I’m being…held by? Who cares warm and feels like snuggles…. 

“Come on now, Love. I know you’re comfortable, but we have to get up. The others are waiting on us.” Wait what the fuckkkk that voice is real that strangely British and smooth voice is so real. I shoot up and stare, very confused, at the oh so attractive elfin man in front of me.

“What the…fuck?” I still sound like myself…so not everyone is weirdly British for New Orleans. “Wait who are you, where…are we what the actuall fuck…’ I mutter looking around extremely confused. The…oh so attractive elf just chuckles and smirks at me. 

“I see your memory has reset again dearest. I’m your boyfriend, Avión. You dearest-“ He’s getting out of the bed and holy shit abs. I stare at his stomach trying to fight the urge to bite him and add to the already numerous bite marks covering him already. I feel a hand tilt my chin up to meet his smirking expression. “You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you dearest?”

“Not at all…” I mumble, feeling suddenly like telling him the truth was the best option.

“Oh hells you really are just…” he pauses, taking a deep breath before pulling away and putting clothes on. Oh I’m naked too, and…covered in hickies… Well that would explain why everything is so sore.

“Get some clothes dearest, I’ll grab your journals so you can read what all has happened.” I nod at his words, grabbing a large white pirate remanicant shirt and some black pants. I leave the tent I woke up in, gods this is reminiscent of Baldur's Gate Three or a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. I look around confused and Avión waves me over to sit by the fire with him. I walk over and sit down and get handed a book, one filled with my handwriting.

This had happened before, according to the tally I’ve kept, about twenty or so times, everyone was used to it. 

I’m twenty three now? I was sixteen last I remembered…. I whimper and put the book down and just sit pondering what’s happening.

I was in New Orleans before, home, in my bed reading fanfic, and now I’m here with this group of British fantasy people. I’m the bard of the group? I’m so confused. At least this world is beautiful, and having a stupid hot boyfriend (?) doesn’t make it absolutely terrible.

 I’m not alone, that’s comforting, past me wrote a lot about them all. Most of the book is about Avión, how kind he is, how comforting, some notes about his likes and dislikes, and a good page’s worth of information about the parties’ dietary restrictions and preferences. 

I really care, cared? Doesn’t matter, I clearly hold them dear and close to my heart. This feels weird, fuzzy, warm, yet heavy. I look around at the smiling faces of people I wrote about as friends and called “My dearest companions.” This world feels weird, I can feel something akin to oil with glitter in it thrumming in my veins, prickling at my soul, pulling me to sing or burn something. 

I put the book down and stand, pacing to get rid of the feeling of glitter in my veins and soul. It didn’t help. Avión comes over and grabs my hands.

“Dearest can you say this for me?” he asked softly, handing me a scroll with a phrase on it. I mumble the phrase and he smiles as my hands glow yellow. The yellow spreads to him before fading and he smiles at me before letting me sit alone again. 

He knows me so well, doesn’t he… Twenty one times, this is my…our twenty first time dealing with a memory reset. I still find it weird that I’m the only one not British, but it’s fine. This world is warm, I’m cared for by this odd group of people, and the me that wrote this was very happy. I’ll get used to this world again, I hope so at least. I’ve done it twenty times before. I add the twenty-first tally to the back of the book and give it back to Avión before sitting next to him as he stares into the fire in front of us. 

“So…we love each other?”

“That would be correct, dearest.” I shyly take his hand and he rubs my knuckles comfortingly. “It’ll be okay, lovely. You’ve forgotten before, you’ll remember soon.”

“Okay.” I mumble softly and smile weakly at him. I really do hope it all turns out okay.

[fischerfrey]

HPMA AU; A Christmas Prince

Chapter 10: Alderly’s Past, Present, and Future

Summary: Dawn’s time in Alderly is running out, but he still has one card up his sleeve to help Quincey.

A/N: Second to last chapter. I might also include a little epilogue after Ch11, but we’ll see...

Words: 2.5k

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle and Evander Alderly by @potionboy3

Beginning | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10: Alderly’s Past, Present, and Future

Olympia helped Dawn sneak back into the palace. She had suggested going through her father’s papers in case they could uncover something that might help Quincey, and Dawn jumped at the chance. It was way past midnight, and Dawn felt like he might fall asleep standing.

“Got anything?” asked Olympia, sat on the floor with a bunch of old journals.

“I got excited when I saw this was a legal document,” said Dawn. “But then it was about the building regulations of fences.”

“Riveting,” said Olympia. “I’ve been introduced to the teenage angst of one Prince Edward of Alderly.”

“Oh, wow.”

“He doesn’t want to study philosophy; he wants to party.”

“Sounds like someone we know,” said Dawn.

“Yeah, except good old Eddie actually wrote this himself,” Olympia said. “Terrible handwriting.”

“Go Eddie, I guess.”

“I don’t know if these are going to be any help at all…”

“Well… If we want to prove that party boys can be kings, then that is a gold mine.”

“Yeah,” said Olympia “I remember this guy from history class... he ended up being alright. Married an ancestor of Diana's, too.”

“Ah, hey, I think I might have a perfect solution,” Dawn said, peering at Olympia over the papers he was studying. “What if you just marry Evander?”

Olympia laughed. “I don’t think the cousin thing is even as bad as the fact that’s he’s just… the worst.”

“Oh right, I wasn't even thinking about the cousin thing, I just figured you'd marry him, suffocate him in his sleep and then we could be like ‘oh look, Quincey is the next in line for the throne’.”

“Love the idea,” she said and shuffled through the journals, frustrated. Eventually she discarded them and moved on to go through another drawer in her dad’s desk.

“I have many other murder plans in store for him, if you want to hear,” offered Dawn.

“Oh please, do tell.”

“Okay, so,” started Dawn. “There’s one involving fire, symbolizing my burning hatred for the man…”

Dawn came up with several funny was of killing Evander for the next half an hour or so, while they read through boring legal document after boring legal document. Just as Dawn was about to bring up the guillotine, Olympia gasped.

“What, what is it?”

“Oh… my god, look,” she said and motioned for him to go over. Dawn did and examined the paper she had found. It was a draft addressed to parliament, suggesting the change of the marital law.

“It’s dated only a few days before father died,” said Olympia.

“Holy shit…”

“It’s only a draft, but this could help,” Olympia continued, and then spotted something that had been under the legal draft. It was an envelope, addressed to Quincey. “Father’s handwriting.”

“You can take these to the meeting tomorrow.”

“You won’t come?” asked Olympia.

“I don’t think Quincey wants me there…”

“I...”

“Olympia, I have to catch my flight because I can’t afford another ticket home.”

“I…” Olympia began. “You’re really going to leave?”

“I think I’ve caused enough trouble here, O.”

Olympia frowned. “I’m just going to miss you.”

“You can always visit,” Dawn offered.

“Careful, or I’ll come round every weekend.”

“My dad would love you.”

“You think? Even though I'm posh?”

“Well, I do.”

“I love you too,” said Olympia. “Precisely because you aren’t posh.”

Dawn smiled. “Good to know.”

“Now I think we should get some sleep if we want to make it to the meeting tomorrow.”

As they headed, out, Dawn almost tripped over the books Olympia had left lying around. He picked one up on a whim. A journal of one King Henry III of Alderly.

“Are you okay?” asked Olympia.

“Yeah… hmm…”

“What is it?”

Dawn flipped through a couple of pages. “It’s one of the journals,” he said. Olympia read over his shoulder. The page that had been lying open had contained plans to change a few laws, and that had drawn Dawn’s interest. Mostly they were about taxation and workers’ rights. But there were also more personal notes about riding trips, dinner parties with friends, and wishing the king need not have been separated from some mysterious he who wasn’t named.

“When was this?” Dawn asked, looking for a date.

“Early 1900s,” said Olympia, aptly.

“The way he writes about this man sounds…” Dawn started.

“Romantic?” Olympia finished for him.

“Why would something this just be lying around in your father’s study?”

“Maybe he had a reason,” said Olympia, eyeing the letter her father had written for Quincey.

Dawn turned a page. Stacked away on it was an old photograph of four people in Edwardian garb, holding champagne glasses. Olympia pointed out the king and Dawn turned the photo around and read: “New Year’s Eve, 1903; Henry, Primrose, Elian, and Malcolm.”

“Huh… I know three of those names. Those two were married.” said Olympia, pointing to the only woman in the photo and the tallest of the men.

“Do you think…?” Dawn started. “Maybe that last one’s our mystery man?”

“I mean…”

“As the historians would say,” Dawn started. “They were probably just really good friends.”

“Of course,” said Olympia.

“Want some light reading for bed?” asked Dawn.

“Yeah.”

Dawn handed her the book. He wasn’t crazy enough to sneak it out of the palace, but Olympia insisted he take the papers. “For safekeeping,” she said. “I don’t trust them to stay safe in the palace. You can give them back to me in the morning.”

“Alright,” Dawn agreed, but only because he’d gotten a first-hand experience of things going missing from his chambers.

They headed out. Olympia went off to create a distraction, so Dawn could get out of the palace and to the inn he was staying at.

~

The next morning, things didn’t go as planned. Olympia never showed up for their meeting outside the palace. She was supposed to get the papers and go to the meeting, while Dawn headed for the airport. Dawn suspected she had been caught by Miss Pince, or worse yet, her mother. Luckily, she’d had the foresight to give Dawn the papers, but not a way to actually get in the room the meeting was held in. Eventually he just trusted his tried-and-true method of marching in and hoping no one would stop him. They did. Then he said he had to speak with the Queen urgently, and that didn’t work either, so he tried the Prince. When that failed, he bolted and ran past the guards and to the door, opening the door with loud enough bang that every single dignitary and parliament member in the room turned to look at him with astonished expressions. Dawn didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. He saw Quincey in the room, sat at the table next to his mother. Olympia was nowhere to be found. Quincey was looking at him as he made his way to the table, stopping to stand at the end of it.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he started. “But I have some new information regarding the constitution and as the person who discovered it in the first place, I’d ask for a permission to speak.”

It was the Prime Minister, who got his mouth open first: “This is highly unusual.”

“What information?” asked the queen.

“Who let him in here?” asked a woman sitting next to Evander with a striking resemblance to the queen.

Dawn ignored her and grasped at the straw of the queen asking him directly about the information. That sort of counted as a permission to speak, did it not?

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he told her, and then cleared his throat. “Hi! I'm the shady reporter from yesterday you’ve come to know as the finder of the law we’ve all gathered here to talk about. I’ve continued my research and come across this paper,” he held the king’s petition for all to see. “It's a draft of a petition for parliament, singed by the king himself. He was planning on submitting this before his death.”

“This is outrageous,” said the woman by Evander, presumably his mother and Isabella’s sister. “Who let the reporter in here?” she demanded.

Isabella looked at her sister with an expression that, to Dawn, said: Who let you in here, bitch?

Then Quincey stood up. “Let him speak.”

The prime minister looked mostly confused. “I… fine, alright, Mr… Whoever you are. Let us see that you have.”

Quiney looked at Dawn. Dawn took the paper to the prime minister.

“I believe the king meant to have this matter handled before his death,” Dawn continued. “This might shed some light to it.”

In his other hand he was holding the letter to Quincey. “It’s addressed to you, Quince–, Your Highness.”

A palace aide came over and took the letter to Quincey, who opened it and read. Everyone waited with bated breath.

“Dawn’s right,” said Quincey. “He meant to take it to parliament but then he fell ill. He… he wished it to be repelled entirely, since such a law doesn’t really represent the needs of a modern country.”

“This document is as Mr… Dawn… said, as well,” the prime minister said. “Signed by King Stefanos.”

“Let me see that, Prime Minister,” said the Queen and took the document. “Oh…”

Evander went to see it as well. There was a low murmur in the room and Dawn took a step back.

“Yes, well, that was it from me so…” he said and then looked at Quincey who was clutching the letter from his father like a lifeline.

“Well, no, actually not. I also think that you're all bonkers if you let this stupid old law have effect on who becomes your next ruler. I came here with the expectation that I would find some irresponsible party boy, who's not fitted to be king but while getting to know prince Quentin, I've seen that he is quite the opposite of that and cares about Alderly and his responsibilities just as much as Count Evander here does. He just doesn’t make as big of a spectacle about it.”

Quincey looked back at him. Dawn couldn’t be sure, but it’s almost like he mouthed thank you. Then he turned towards the prime minister. “Let me see the draft.”

The prime minister handed it to Quincey and said: “It isn’t yet law but we can push it through parliament to respect the late king’s wishes. Only, the interregnum is over in less than twelve hours. The law allows for a coronation if the monarch has the intention of getting married within a year.”

Evander’s mother got up from the chair. “The fact remains, that the law has not been changed yet. My son is getting married. He has followed his duty.”

“Mother,” said Evander. “My engagement ended an hour ago. I wouldn’t push the law so hard right now, if I were you.”

Dawn wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He gaped at Evander.

“I believe this law has been put in place originally, to ensure a small nation’s line of succession during the Medieval period,” the prime minister said. “As it stands, I would argue that in the 2020s, it is not of as paramount importance as it was back then.”

“What do you suggest?” asked the queen.

“I suggest we take it to parliament to be considered at the earliest opportunity,” he continued. “And until then, we act… unconstitutionally.”

The room erupted into chaos. Evander’s mother was yelling. Isabella told her to shut up, Amelia, Evander massaged his temples like he was having the worst headache of his life, and the prime minister was trying, in vain, to get everyone to calm down. Dawn felt like his moment had come. With one last look at Quincey, who was looking at the letter again, he headed out.

~

The trip to the airport was a blur. He hadn’t gotten to say good-bye to Quincey or Olympia. He wasn’t even sure if the plan had worked. He wanted to go home and cry in his bed for a week. He didn’t want to go home but return to the palace and find Quincey and beg for his forgiveness. He almost called a taxi, but when he went to look for his phone in his pocket, it wasn’t there. He couldn’t find it anywhere in his luggage either. He swore and went through everything one more time. He must’ve dropped it at some point on his way to the airport, but there was no way he’d have time to retrace his steps before his flight.

“This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to London, Gatwick. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you,” a loudspeaker announcement came. Dawn clutched his passport and boarding pass and headed for the gate.

Bonus: Quincey

When he finally remembered Dawn’s letter, he was sure the suit jacket was long gone to the cleaners. Returning from the meeting exhausted and after having spent an hour looking for Dawn, he’d finally gone to Olympia. Mother had, in all her kindness, locked her in her room to stop her from interfering with the proceedings. Olympia told him that Dawn’s flight had left already, but that he’d left her with his father’s address in Bristol. Phone number would have been nice, Quincey mused and wondered about the address. Then he remembered the night before, the ball, the letter Dawn had handed him. He had called it an apology. Quincey rummaged around in his room and found the jacket in question, with the letter in its pocket. He opened it with shaking hands, and read:

 “To His Quinceyness, The Star Of My Sky, Or The Reason For My Currently Crumbling Career, (which ever works the best for you love),

I have to confess something that I should have started with.

The reason for my arrival was not your sister, it was always you. I'm actually a reporter for Beat Magazine and I was sent here to write an article about your scandalous life. So far what I’ve got for my article is a selfie in front of a posh Christmas tree and some shaky pictures of children and whatever is left of a snowman. Sadly, my other material was burned down in a horrible accident and so thus ends my oh-so-successful career as a journalist. But never mind you, I didn’t much care for the job anyway.

I know you will probably hate me after finding out the truth, and while usually being the most honest person one can find (too honest, I hear), I wanted to save the last days I had with you for my own selfish reasons and decided to write to you instead. I am hoping for an angry answer letter from you in return, or maybe I’ll never hear from you again, to which I’m not as prepared as I would like to, but which would surprise me less.

I wanted you to know the real me, but I think you already do. I didn't end up lying about that many things, just my name and address. I actually live in London but will probably soon be moving back to Bristol with my dad after my boss finds out that I don’t have anything juicy to write about. I'm giving your sister my dad’s address, just in case you do want to write to me. I'd like to know what you think.

I'll also be following keenly the start of your kingly days and looking forward on seeing what the future holds for my dear Alderly. I need to hurry to your coronation ball now, so I’ll have to cut this short. The truth is that in the process of discovering the truth about you, I may have fallen in love with you instead.

Dawn Harvelle (not whatever the last name was).”

 Quincey sat on his bed and finally let himself cry.

Tag list:

@lifeofkaze​​ @gcldensnitch​​ @magicallymalted​​ @endlessly-cursed​

[aniandthesuns]

After a long, jam-packed project day at work, Anakin slowly shuffles home, feeling like he can barely stand up on his own. Watto had asked the previous day if he could come early, so he did. He just… didn’t expect to also have to stay late. So what is usually an eight or nine hour work day for him had suddenly become ten… pushing eleven… until he was able to go home.

“Ani?” Shmi stands as he approaches, pulling her cover over herself tighter, “Ani I was worried to death-“

“I’m sorry ma,” he says softly. “Watto needed me to stay. We’re a bit behind.” He shuffles inside with her. “You shouldn’t have waited up… it’s late and very cold- and dangerous.”

“I know,” Shmi nods a little. “But… but something came from Lili today. And I was too excited to sleep without you seeing it.”

Anakin straightens, a sudden burst of energy zapping through him. “Lili sent something?”

“Yes- it’s here on the kitchen table.” She hurriedly brings him over, patting the large box. “It is very heavy…”

“Oh my gods…” he grabs a box cutter and carefully cuts the box open, his eyes widening at how packed it is. “I- I thought- maybe she found someone else,” he murmurs, grabbing the letter addressed to him.

He quickly starts to read, tearing up even at your very first sentence.

“She- she wants to come get me,” he whispers, “to free me. She sent presents for all of us- even for you, ma. Look.” He digs through the box until he finds hers, grinning as they open it together. “Oh it’ll look beautiful on you. Oh it’s two things! A shawl and a dress!”

Shmi holds the dress against her body, positively beaming. “It is beautiful Ani… what a wonderful, thoughtful gift- we must write back to her when we’re done giving everything away. Have the boys over tomorrow, we can give them their things!”

Anakin nods his agreement, politely excusing himself to his room with all of the items and your letter to finish reading it in privacy.

You didn’t forget him. You didn’t move on. He was worried about that for so long. He’d never tell you, of course, but that’s the biggest relief of his entire life.

After a week of enjoying the presents with his friends and taking photo after photo with Voran’s gorgeous new camera, he manages to send you a letter back, on the pretty stationary, the envelope stuffed with photos.

Lili,

I am sorry about my bad handwriting. It’s been a long week and my hands are cramped so often now. I think I will need Voran to help me relieve the aches, he’s the only one who knows how.

You’ve written to me again… it’s been so long. I’m terribly excited to hear from you, my love. Congratulations on your promotion. It sounds like a big job but I know you can handle it. You are strong and smart and so brave.

Thank you for our gifts. I don’t know where to even start. Mom wore her dress several nights ago to our little bonfire, the boys all made her feel really good about it. She looked beautiful. I added a picture in this thing. An envelope, I think it’s called. Mom and I weren’t sure but Voran said envelope so we took his word for it.

I still work on droids. But I have also had to work on lots of ships lately. There was some sort of fight over the planet a month ago and every one of them who lived wants us to fix their ships. Watto bragged about me and so they chose me. I am… thankful, and the extra money will be nice. But I am very tired. Droids are still my favorites.

My birthday was last week, which I’m sure you know because you sent the cake mix and torch candle things. We had a very fun party and the cake was delicious. Voran got a sugar rush and was vibrating the whole evening. Haha. I got a picture of him grinning very big and his pupils were really crazy because of the sugar.

Voran and Kit insisted on doing a photo shoot with me because you did not have many pictures… so there are a lot of me in here, I think. I hope you like them. And yea, I did grow my hair out a little more. I think the curls look really nice, the only problem is I use more shampoo which costs more. But mom says it is worth it.

She has met someone. I think she may like him. Or love him even. I don’t know how I feel about him yet but he seems kind. He is a moisture farmer and has a son. The son is quiet. Sort of grumpy sometimes. But he is kind too.

Please know I love and miss you so much. I wish I could have hugged you when I got your package.

I am always thinking of you.

I am always yours. Even when the suns burn out and the galaxy starts to crumble. I am yours.

I love you endlessly. Please write to me again.

- Your Ani

A week after he sends the letter, Ben comes home from his Temple duties, having grabbed the mail on his way.

“Darling?” He calls, “there’s a letter for you. Looks like it’s from Tatooine.”

I straighten a little and hurry over, quickly plucking it out of his hands, “thank you for grabbing it. How was your classes?” I put my letter in my robe.

[lgcxmax]

in the middle of promotions, wookjin had no idea how he was going to sneak his present to max. it seemed like the world was trying to keep the two apart. but wookjin wasn’t going to let that stop him from giving his boy something for their first valentines day. did he have to bribe one of max’s roommates to sneak the box of goodies into max’s dorm for him? yes, and he’d do it again. 

wookjin had spent a night, a couple weeks ago, scouring through the internet to find every relaxing and calming things he could, and filled a heart covered box with it all. there was chocolate, warm socks, candles, body scrub, poetry, fluffed blanket and a lego orchid–all hand picked to ensure max could take a moment to breathe and destress. at the top of the box sat a handwritten letter, that read in wookjin’s messy handwriting:

you know i’m terrible at getting my words out…but you knew i’m fucking crazy about you max. it’s still unbelievable that we’re finally together, after all we’ve been through. and by god, have been through it. i wouldn’t change a second of it though–our choices, our journeys have led me to you and i couldn’t be happier to have you in my life. i was worried that this relationship and the labels and all that would change us–and it has. but this is the best change i’ve ever felt. i feel closer to you than ever before (i don’t know how that is possible lol) and i’m so glad i can call you mine. and you’re still my best friend…and that will Never change. through rain and snow, you’ll always be my #1 maxi.

i hope you enjoy this gift! i’ve packed it with a bunch of coozy, soft stuff and nice stuff to relax to. i know you’re stressed about lgc boys, but don’t worry. you’ll make it and be great, i know it. use the stuff in here to try and relax for me? when you’re stressed, i’m stressed.  

happy valentines day, my forever valentine.너의 사랑 정욱진

PS: how have we not done a lego date?? we should do it sometime when we both have a second to breathe.

max fully planed to faceplant right into his bed after a long day, the hours he spent staying behind to work on his guitar skills since he spend his normal hours on his weak skills for the most part weren’t entirely necessary but felt therapeutic in an oddly calming way. he really had missed strumming the old trusted instrument. placing the bag in the corner he thus falls face first only for his forehead to collide with a package that has him grunt in disapproval. 

oh. right. valentines.

the heart on the label has his stomach do a tiny summersault and recognizing the hand writing has his heart leaping into his throat. smile widening across his lips he reads the letter first while rubbing his sore forehead. he truly had the best boyfriend in the whole world. giggling like a teenager in his first relationship he holds the paper to his lips while looking over the package, ducking his shoulders a bit at the dent in it caused by his thick head, hoping he didn’t damage whatever his best friend had packed for him.

quick to cut it open and roam around the contents he can’t help but love each and every single item, especially the orchid that looks rather intriguing to build up. hopefully they’d get a chance to do it together one day...

without thinking much longer on it he reaches for his phone and his guitar. sleep can wait. he’ll just give wook his own surprise right now.

[another-tired-little-demon]

This what playing Genshin Impact with @artcoven is like.