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inkeyjay · 8 months

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🫀 Eucharist of the Ravenous 🫀

It started out as a bellyache, guts rumbling after two days of barely eating. An unfinished visage, featureless, fixing the blurry sockets it had for eyes into his soul.

The humble priest dropped his brush onto the cold floor of the chapel and stumbled backwards. The walls, towards the ceiling, all full of still fresh perfect faces framed by golden halos, that he had been carefully painting non stop for days. Faces of dead saints and prophets, long gone, commissioned by the high church as a display of power and opulence in an age of religious and political crisis. And this last saint, the one that still had some loose and tired brushtrokes for it's face. There was something about it that made the priest flinch out of his creative trance. He swore the paint moved, vibrated with anticipation at the touch of the brush.

He laid tired in the center of the chapel, exposed to a hundred pair of eyes that almost felt judgemental, knowing of the priest's internal thoughts. "Why am i doing this" "Why do i have to over exert myself with work to survive while i use pure gold to embellish... You. This" "Why"

And the faces remained still and silent.

"Why all this for long gone martyrs that had the fortune to die for their for their beliefs, or to let their God speak through their lips, bestow miracles through their fingers"

"Why this for a God that let them die at the heretical hands of the non believers. That leaves hundreds if not thousands of people to die of the pestilence outside this golden, rotten, WALLS"

The bottle of turpentine exploded and its contents dripped down the wall, dragging hours of work with them, dissolving like acid false flesh and gold leaf alike. And then blood, through the priest's hand, holding the neck of the bottle. He panicked and kneeled towards the wall, trying to undo the mistake with cloth, only to make a bloody mess. Red running through the gold, ichor like.

The priest cried holding his hand, a deep wound running through his palm, burning because of the chemicals. But the pain was not the cause of his tears.

"A sign" "I just need a sign"

But the faces remained still and silent.

The priest got up, slowly, and turned around towards the door. Why be here then. Why remain hungry, at the mercy of a dying church that kept their riches safe in mausoleums and layers of paint upon gold leaf upon stone, while its believers died in the streets famished and sick. The priest saw it clear now. If God did ever exist, it was long gone, uncaring for its creation. He might as well die outside, with his people. It would be like inviting the sickness into his chest but at least his last breaths wouldn't taste of incense. His steps echoed through the chamber, determined, reaching for the doors.

But the faces opened their lips. And with a cacophony of voices, each one vibrating with a torrent of beating wings, It spoke. No.

It sang.

Super happy to finally be able to show you this illustration i made for Tome of Pacts, a zine about warlocks, patrons and their pacts! There's a leftover sale going on right now! This is Pantheon, a shapeshifting entity that impersonates long absent gods and feeds on the faith of their followers, always hungry for more. But it's not for me to tell you.

! First of all, credits to @/gothhoblin, the writer of our team, for helping shape out this Patron "...and it spoke with a cacophony of voices, each one vibrating with a torrent of beating wings, a thousand or more." Is a marvelous line of her creation.

Tome of pacts has 11 more patrons and 24 warlocks for your enjoyment, all beautifully depicted by teams of artists and writers. Im super proud to have been able to participate in this project 💛

This short story is about an original character i created after the patron, just as an appetizer, pun intended. You get it right??

Hungry for a copy?

#dnd #tome of pacts #great old one #illustration #dungeons and dragons #magic the gathering #eldritch #patron #warlock #fantasy #dark fantasy #church

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smallpapers · 2 months

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sneako peeko of my page and merch contributions for the HUNTLOW GOLDEN GARDEN ZINE! pre-orders open on Feb 14th! ⭐️ a v-day treat!! Check it out at @huntlowfanzine , there are so many cool artists and writers involved!!!

#huntlow #the owl house #Toh zine #zine promo #huntlow zine #hunter wittebane #willow park #toh willow #toh hunter #scheduled post

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travelingthief · 8 months

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Lord Apollo Devotional Post

Divination

Tarot/Oracle decks

Pendulums

Rune stones

Charm casting supplies

Crystal balls

Scrying bowls

All divination tools

Cookie fortunes

Tea leaves

Art

Paint brushes/paints

Canvases

Colored pencils/markers/crayons

Collages

Journals

Art books

Art prints

Anything you made

Sculptures

Zines

Stickers

Any art supplies

Music

Music boxes

Records/CDs/Cassettes

Record players/radios/MP3 etc.

Headphones

Music posters

Band merch

Instruments/String instruments

Dance shoes

Concert tickets

CD book holders

Sun and Light

Sun imagery

Sunscreen

Aloe for sunburns

Golden objects

Matches

Candles

Sunflowers/sunflower seeds

Health and Healing

First aid kits

Medicine

Pain relievers

Band-aids

Ice/heat packs

Rice socks

Masks

Aloe

Ambulance toy cars

Adaptive aids

Archery

Darts

Bow and arrows

Arrow quiver

Dart board

Targets

Bullseye

Myth Related

Snake skins

Snake imagery (Python)

Laurels

Bay leaves (Daphne)

Palm trees (Birth myth)

Ravens/Crows

Crow feathers (Why the crow is black)

Cattle/turtles (Hermes birth myth)

Swans (Pulled His chariot)

Hyacinths (Hyacinthus)

Locks of hair

Food

Vanilla

Honey

Sunny D

Lemons/lemon juice

Oranges/orange juice

Citrus

Water

Devotional Acts

Health

Take your meds

Go to therapy

Exercise

Wear a mask (We are still in a pandemic y’all)

Get vaccinated

Get STI tested

Self care

Learn first aid/CPR

Keep a first aid kit at home/in your car

Learn about alternative medicine

Advocate for accessible healthcare

Advocate for disability rights

Volunteer at a hospital

Give blood/plasma

Volunteer at a retirement home

Learn about anatomy/biology/nutrition

Learn about health conditions/rare disorders

Eat healthy for your body

Help fund surgeries if you can

Trip sit for someone

Listen to your body

Sunlight

Sunbathe

Wear sunscreen

Start a garden

Make sun water

Open all the windows on a sunny day

Music

Go to a concert/show

Listen to music

Make a playlist for someone you love

Make a playlist for Apollo

Learn an instrument/play and instrument

Dance

Sing

Support local bands

Explore new music

Burn CDs

Divination/Prophecy

Daily tarot card/rune stones

Make an oracle deck

Give divination readings

Shadow work

Colormancy

Art

Make something

Draw/paint/craft

Write a poem/story

Color

Make a zine

Go see a play

Get a tattoo

Archery

Throw darts

Use a slingshot

Take up archery

Go to a shooting range

#apollo #apollo offerings #apollo worship #apollon #greek gods #paganism #helpol #hellenic polytheism #theoi #witchblr #hellenic polythiest

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homugabs · 10 months

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golden days

Our lovely zine @inherarmsfe3h is starting their leftover sales by July 7th, if you are into sapphic content for fe3h ladies you should check it out <3

#fe3h #fire emblem 3 houses #petra macneary #dorothea arnault #doropetra #dorothea x petra

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titanrpg · 4 months

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you got a minute? I need a favor

Hey everyone, it's Lex. Happy New Year to you and yours!

Today, I have a huge announcement about Titanomachy RPG and its future. This month marks 3 years since I joined TTRPG Twitter. I've met so many incredible people and learned so much from y'all. Your support has allowed me to take one HUGE step in my life.

I recently moved to Maryland from Florida to get some basic human rights. I also left my job of 7 years to try and live unburdened by selling hours of my life to some random rich guy. And now, I'm taking Titanomachy RPG full-time.

Here I am, already having taken the leap. I have some money saved up, yes, but ultimately I am trusting in the generosity of others to help me build out a life I can truly love.

So yes, this is a Patreon announcement. And there's a link to Caltrop Core below (if you want to make a one-time contribution). But before anyone exits this email, I want to talk about all the cool stuff everyone can expect from me, regardless of Patreon status or donor status. I have a lot of exciting things coming in 2024, like:

a NEW open license d12 system called DODECA!

physical copies of my games becoming available via Indie Press Revolution, starting with NIGHTHAWKS!

more consistent game & system releases

seeing more of my work in some upcoming Evil Hat projects (look for me in the Girl by Moonlight stretch goal zines)

prints of "prayer to curse ron desantis", bunny girl osr posters, and perhaps shirts/hats/merch?

ttrpg workshops IRL in the Maryland area

and much much much much more!!

Now, here's the link to my Patreon before I forget: https://www.patreon.com/TitanRPG

I have an AWESOME founding patron bonus. There are 3 tiers of membership, and no matter which you choose to join today, you'll get a pre-release PDF of GOLDEN BEETLE PLAYGROUND, my Medabots-inspired TTRPG built on Caltrop Core EX.

This bonus is ONLY for people who join this month. After January, I'll take it down to work on the game further (and eventually do a full release later this year).

For tiers 2 and 3, I'll be releasing one short RPG every single month. These games will remain Patreon exclusives until I can put proper polish on them (or the patrons vote to release their favorites).

There's a bunch more goodies and details on my actual Patreon page. Click that link to see!

Eventually, I'll be putting merch up on that page, so even if you can't support with a monthly pledge, you'll be seeing posters, shirts, hats, all that very soon!

These days, I'm on tumblr every so often, but no other social media. Patreon will be my dedicated page for updates, game mechanics, design discussions, everything! Even if you join at the $3/month tier, I want to provide a ton of value, starting with GOLDEN BEETLE PLAYGROUND!

Click here to see the three membership tiers and support a trans game designer today!

Thank you for your support over the past 3 years. I hope to remain worth of it for many more years to come.

All my love,

Lex Kim Bobrow

Publisher, Titanomachy RPG

P.S. Here's the link again. Take a moment to check out the page please, and if you can't contribute, please tell your friends! I've lost touch with so many people after leaving Twitter, so any help in getting the word out is 10000000% appreciated!!

P.P.S. If you could reblog this post ASAP, I'd really really appreciate it. Thank you!!!

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #caltrop core

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anicedoomsday · 6 months

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Aziraphale cannot find his voice, so he merely nods and presses the back of his heels to Crowley’s ass. “What should I call you?” “Oh well, you may call me alpha,” Crowley says with a smirk and Aziraphale moans when clever fingers grab the plug and pull it out just a little. “And what about you? Do you prefer me to call you angel,” Crowley says, eyes staring down between Aziraphale’s legs, presumably watching slick trickle all over the duvet. He feels his face burn at the thought, but that only makes him gush more. “Or are you my needy, little omega-” Crowley pulls out the plug completely at those words and Aziraphale is grateful he’s already lying down. He moans and uses his elbows to raise his body so he can get a little closer. “Omega, your omega, I need-” he begs, his heat taking control of his body at last. “Alpha, please.” “Oh sweetheart, you are perfect,” Crowley coos. “I cannot decide where to start, I mean, look at you-” And Aziraphale does. The position is a bit tricky and he does wonder if he will get a crick in his neck the following day, but what matters is watching as Crowley explores his body, golden eyes and lean fingers mapping each layer of soft flesh.

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Here's a (horny) snippet from the story I wrote for @aivelin's gorgeous artwork, both available in all their glory @ 💦 GOmegaverse Fanzine Vol. 2 💦

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And you can find previews for art and fic from the other creators checking out the zine's Twitter account here💖

#aziracrow #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #a/b/o verse #a/b/o au #gomens

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hooitsclaire · 2 months

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Happy Valentines Day!! For your loved one, why dont you get them a very lovely Owl House Zine?? Oh, but not just one but 2!! @huntlowfanzine is officially open for pre orders today, and @titanstomeszine (a fanfic centric zine) also has pre orders open!

Golden Garden: goldengarden.bigcartel.com

Titans Tomes: titanstomeszine.bigcartel.com

#art #disney #fanart #my art #toh #the owl house #fan art #huntlow #huntlow zine #golden garden zine #fan zine #fandom zine #toh fanart #hunter toh #owl house

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gutouhua · 1 year

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𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

vampire!kaeya x human!f.reader

wc. 1395

tags. kaeya drinking reader's blood, penetrative sex, hickeys, slight dumbification, size difference, cervix-fucking sorta, not edited

a/n. last reader insert piece i'll post for the year! i love the reader fic community very dearly--y'all were the ones that made me want to write!--so even if i'm writing other stuff besides reader fics, know i will always be back! gonna be working on zine stuff & the next part of shrine master's bride in the new year! i hope you lovelies have a gentle christmas and peaceful rest of the year <3

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭! 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖+!

There were times when Kaeya felt that he was made specifically for you. For your needs, your comfort, your pleasure. A knight at his queen’s service.

At the farmer’s market, he’d carry everything for you even though he knew you were more than capable of doing it yourself. He’d never admit it, but it was just an excuse to be by your side.

And as you flitted from stall to stall, he’d trail after you with heavy arms, juggling bags and parcels of food and trinkets, and admire your pretty sundress. He told himself that he followed behind to protect you, but it was mostly so that he could enjoy—ogle—the way the cotton voile clung to your ass.

You’d always buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and meats wrapped in kraft paper. (Bloodied steaks, he’d noticed, were a particular favorite of yours.)

But the shop you always lingered the longest at was the dessert shop. Dainty frosted cakes, golden flaky pastries, and soft cookies presented prettily in delicate containers was your ultimate weakness. The shopkeeper always had your order of sugar rush ready even before you arrived, and Kaeya was always careful to balance your desserts in expert fashion, careful not to jostle them too much.

(The last time your baklava got crushed into a sticky, flaky mess, you refused to kiss him for an entire day which left Kaeya very distraught and aching.)

And when you come back from a mission, your familiar scent smothered by the tang of feral vampires, Kaeya would greet you like clockwork with a kiss and a hug at the door despite his intense aversion towards the smell of ferals.

He’d hoist you up into his arms and carry you to the bathroom before peeling your hunting clothes off and depositing you into a bath scented with your favorite rose oils. The bathwater would get most of the stink out, but Kaeya knew your muscles would ache from the hunting and that some of the stench would linger, he’d work the knots in your body and scrub at the blood that stained your scarred skin. He always started at your neck and ended with your toes and you’d always try to stop him—you were extremely ticklish—but in the end, he always had his way.

But archons. When you were under him—

“I swear you get wetter—tighter, ah fuck—” you desperately arch up against his hips, chasing heat and friction, “—when my fangs are on your neck. Why’s that baby?” Kaeya mumbles. Sugar and sin against your beating pulse, so loud you can somehow hear it through the rough rasp of his voice and the erotic sounds of your bodies intertwining with each other.

Kaeya is mocking, but his tone belies his own control; taut, thin strands of sweet candy floss that could snap at any moment. But your unraveling is always his goal, what’s most important to him, so he squeezes his eyes shut to push the bleeding red from his eyes and tightens his grip on your hips to anchor himself.

“I—I don’t know—” Your answer comes out as a moan, half-delirious from the steady pressure building between the juncture of your thighs, and you buck against him again before digging your heels into his lower back to keep him inside you.

But Kaeya simply ignores you with a lazy smile, instead mimicking the drag of his hard length inside you with blunted fangs against the column of his throat. The dull pain slides across your sensitized skin, a numbing, delicious promise.

“P-Please I, I need, ah,” you whimper brokenly, trying to fight your mind for words when Kaeya presses a perfectly timed callused palm to your stomach. And suddenly it feels like he’s filling you everywhere, consuming all the empty spaces in your body.

“You need what, darling? You’re a smart girl so use your words,” he chides, dragging each thrust out—slow and honey amidst the haze of your pleasure. “You know I’ll give you whatever you ask for. Command me as you see fit.”

“It’s easy for you to say when you—”

A sharp thrust, full. His tip kisses your cervix and the stretch almost hurts, making you scramble for a fistful of his hair to steady yourself. Keeping his pace steady, he returns to nibble your neck, fangs teasing and nipping the hollow of your neck. Even when you whine against him, raking your nails down his back, Kaeya doesn’t stop until he feels he’s lavished enough attention on your neck. He licks the blooming purple rose on your neck and draws back to admire his handiwork.

Kaeya hums. “Is that what you need, baby?”

The vibrations travel straight to your core, and you shake your head and whine. Kaeya grins. He knows that’s not what you meant, but seeing you beg and fall apart is so much better than just giving it straight to you.

He liked the chase almost as much as he liked watching you lose your mind.

“Y-You know that’s not it. That’s not what I want,” you cry while squirming, trying to seek sweet, hard relief.

“Then tell me, baby.”

Your muscles tighten with each quick thrust, the heavy drag of his cock like a key twisting your insides tighter and tighter. “I want you to-to—ah, fuck, baby not—”

“Words, baby,” he whispers hotly. Fire and brimstone.

"I-I can’t,” you sob shakily, tears welling in your eyes.

Kaeya flips you over and pulls your hair lightly, creating a delicious burn on your scalp. You dig your hands into the sheets, crinkling the silk as you blink wet eyes in an attempt to focus your thoughts.

“Poor baby,” he coos, not at all sorry if the way he thrusted into your cunt was any indication of his intentions. “Too dumb to speak, are you? Can’t use your big girl words?”

“Want you, mmf, want your, ah, fangs, please—”

“Ah, my love.” Kaeya slips two fingers into your mouth, pressing against your tongue. Warm saliva drips down his cold fingers. “I’ve got you now,” he murmured, voice low against the shell of your ear. “You want me to drink your blood, baby?”

You turn, nodding as much as you could given the position.

“Then I need you to cum.” Kaeya pulled out, and you whimpered at the loss, a cry of frustration bubbling in your throat.

“But I want it now. I don’t care if it hurts,” you whine, eyes glassy with need.

“I need you to cum so it hurts less though, baby. You know that’s how we always do it.” Kaeya adjusts himself and lines the tip up with your pussy, moving his cock up and down to spread your slick and tease your clit. “So will you be a good girl for me and cum so I can reward you?”

You nod. You’re so close to the edge that you know you’ll cum the moment he sinks into you again.

He kisses you. Full-bodied, tongue circling yours, and pulls back when he smells the frustration—arousal—increase. He steadies himself against your cunt before pushing inside without warning in one fluid motion, and remembers that he still has to stay sane enough to give you what you want. (But it’s hard to think when his balls are pressed tight against your ass, and your insides feel tighter than they did before.) Kaeya drags his heavy length out, leaving just the tip inside your wet heat, before achingly pushing back in.

Close, close—

“Almost there?” he murmurs, voice soft against his hardness. He grinds down on you and sinks deep while pinching your clit hard, watching as you fall apart under him, mouth open, throat straining, vein thickening—long, smooth and—

Sharp fangs sink into your beating pulse. Blinding pleasure streaks through you before syrupy pleasure spills into your veins. Kaeya sees red and struggles to keep himself steady against your soft body and wet heat.

You seemed to have a habit of doing that to him. Making him crazy, wild, ache for you. With each heavy draw of blood, he relishes the sweet taste, hoping that each additional drop would quench his thirst, but it never does. His mind grows fuzzy, fangs throbbing with each drag.

He might never have enough of you. Never be satisfied.

Kaeya groans.

You’d be his downfall.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x y/n #kaeya smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #kaeya fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic

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gbellasart · 6 months

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🎶Little kitty on the roof together with his lady 🎶🐞 here is my rooftop Ladynoir print for the Boise Comic Arts Festival! I always loved the small, Ladrien version of this that I did for a miraculous zine last year. Golden hour is my favorite time of day with all its majestic, God inspired beauty. 😭🤍 When the Miraculous movie came out, I was struck with inspiration to recreate this because it fits movie Ladynoir so well 😭

•

🎨Supplies🎨

Art App: @procreate

Tablet: iPad Pro 11in

Screen Protector: paperlike matte screen protector! If you want to purchase one check out the link in my bio! 📺🩵

🩵My Socials!!🩵

Ko-Fi | Instagram

#my art #miraculous ladybug #fan art #miraculous fanart #digital art #fan zine #ml fanart #ladynoir #ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir

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atlas-of-the-mind · 5 months

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[ID in alt text and under cut]

Piece 3 of 3 for the @technojoy-zine : A Day Out

Find the Technojoy Zine here

Image Description: A scene of Technoblade (facing the viewer) leaning into a booth manned by Philza (back to the viewer) that frames the image. A doglike skull peeks up from the bottom left corner, as though searching for a treat. Sunrays filter through the booth’s overhang, highlighting the image from the top-left corner. In the background, a large gray wolf has its forepaws on the booth of a nervous expropriator with an owl-like face.

Technoblade is an anthropomorphic boar wearing a red cloak held together by a large gold brooch, a golden crown with two visible sharp points, and two earrings—a golden hoop and a bar piercing. He has a long, braided goatee, tied off with an emerald. He is leaning forward with a pleasant, interested expression.

Philza is a white humanoid with black wings, feathered ears, and hair that fades from blond to white. His fingers are dark and clawed, black veins creeping up his arm, and his shoulders have freckle-like feathers on them. He wears a striped green bucket hat and a green robe. He is animatedly talking to Techno, his wings resting in a half-open position behind him. End Image Description.

#art #artwork #my artwork #digital art #technojoy zine #technoblade fanart #mcyt fanart #c!technoblade #c!philza

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plenilune · 4 months

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what a weird year it's been! this time last year I remember being so high on not wanting to die for the first time in years that I was ecstatic to greet 2023 and find out what I could do in it -- I don't feel that way this year, buffetted about by circumstance and my stupid human body and brain, but I don't feel defeated. I feel like I made a good first pass at a piece of work and now I'm going to take a hack at another draft. I made some good ground. not all the ground I was hoping to make, but a lot I wasn't expecting. I feel good about my ability to keep building a life and a self I can be more and more joyful to occupy.

I tried a lot of new things and some of them didn't work but most of them did. I said yes to a lot of weird shit. I had so many experiences this year. I'm glad I spent a night dancing and smoking on the fire escape outside a masonic lodge and being absolutely drenched in rain. I'm glad Corey and I went on a gorgeous queer group ride with a bunch of other queer cyclists through the streets of our favourite parts of northern Kentucky and then bicycled back home together. I'm glad I had a not-quite-one-night stand and bused home as the sun rose golden and alive and lovely. I'm glad I re-learned the importance of dancing at clubs until I can barely move. I'm glad I saw Oldboy in the cinema and was so adrenalised that I jumped up and down on the sidewalk and screamed waiting for my bus home. I started painting back patches and sewing things onto my clothing and making jewellery and collaging and cropping all my tshirts and sweaters.

I started writing again .god, I started writing again.

and I broke my phone, my glasses, and my computer and struggled financially and took a nightmarish disaster trip to Philadelphia for my grandmother's funeral and I lost access to meds for reasons that were completely my own fault and thus sunk into a mire of depression and fatigue for several months that could have been completely avoided. I struggled to connect to people and struggled to feed myself and been a goddamn wreck. I didn't really accomplish most of the things I thought I was going to, that I started with eagerness and energy at the beginning of the year.

but hell. I built some shit. now I can keep building on top of it. I feel like a completely different person sometimes now, with different possibilities. I fucked up and lost and careened into walls of bad luck over and over this year but I feel better for and about it than I have in a long time. okay, that's new muscles. okay okay okay. new page, new draft, we can go again.

anyway. this year I want to push forward more deliberately on some of the stuff I found out I could do this year -- obviously I am continuing to work on my goddamn space heist book, but also specifically pursue block printing, drag/burlesque, bass, and making zines in 2024 instead of just experimenting with them. bicycle more, cook more, invest in people more, Not Go Off My Meds At Any Point, play more video games, watch more films. (I watched over sixty this year! after barely watching films for so long I didn't know what my own taste was any more, and feeling the shame and confusion of having once been a kid who wanted to go to film school but didn't know what movies they liked any more.)

anyway. here's to all of you who have kept me alive and interested in the world this year. my beloved partner is making arriabbiata and playing jazz in the next room. I have to work first thing tomorrow but tonight I'm going to finish the first season of Better Call Saul and poke at my novel and the day after tomorrow I'm going to have tea and listen to music and sew patches onto my jacket and best flannel. I'm going to keep finding new things to be alive for. I'm going to create a self I want to live inside. I'm excited to know what things are going to happen to me in 2024. I'm excited to learn about new ways to feel joy.

goodnight, 2023. you were a mess and I loved you more often than I didn't.

#the diary #the new year

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miss-tc-nova · 6 months

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Hunted - Leona Kingscholar & "Yuu"

My piece for the Twst Horror Zine. I had a lot of fun thinking of the possible terror and re-watching one of my favorite horror movies.

Premise: Backpacking around Twisted Wonderland goes bad

Words: 2,962

Trigger Warnings: implied death, stalking, isolation

Art done by the incredibly gifted HoKeki on Twitter!

~~~~~

October 23, 20XX

I’m not sure how to start this, so here goes.

Welcome to my journal! Over the next several months, my friends and I will be backpacking across Twisted Wonderland, taking in the sights and cultures across the world. This is going to be my first excursion and I thought it would be fun to document it.

As anyone who knows me might guess, I’m bringing Ace and Deuce along, though I’m not sure how they came to agree on it when they never seem to agree on anything. Even right now, Ace is badgering Deuce about all the stuff he’s bringing. I agree Deuce might’ve overpacked a bit, but I don’t know how Ace thinks he’s going to be fine with just two sets of clothes and his pajamas. At least I don’t have to wear them. So I’ll be spending a lot more time with these dummies, but I’m excited it’s my best friends I get to share this adventure with.

Our first stop is going to be Sunrise City in the Sunset Savanna. From there, we’ll probably go east to the Shaftlands and then maybe up into the Kingdom of Heroes. The great thing is that we get to decide as we go. I was pretty adamant about starting in Sunrise City though. I’ve always wanted to visit since I learned about its culture and how intermingled it is with the wildlife. Also, being directly south of the Queendom of Roses made it an easy choice to start with.

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. It’ll be a struggle to keep my excitement in check enough to get even an hour of sleep. Though I should probably finish packing first. Thank goodness Riddle isn’t here or I’d never hear the end of my unpreparedness. But that’s part of the fun, right? The spontaneity and not knowing what adventure the next day will bring. It’s the surprises on the horizon that I want to experience. Even the mishaps—because you know that’s gonna happen with the three of us.

I better cut it here. Ace is about to get punched in the face and I still gotta pack.

Peace!

~~~~~

October 24, 20XX

We finally made it! It took so long the sun is already starting to sink in the sky, but we’re here! Our plane was surprisingly small. In fact, the port here is more rural than I was expecting. It feels a lot more wild—like a safari.

Still, it’s absolutely breathtaking. Clear skies shine bright and the plains ripple like liquid gold in the breeze. Only the captivating local culture could stop me from staring at it for hours. The people are really kind. Most were obviously trying to make money off us, but even they were nice. And it all looked so amazing we had to drag Ace away from a shop selling “Bone Cookies.” This is literally our first day and the temptation to spend money is strong.

Right now, we’re in a cozy guest cabin. Some government officials questioned us about the purpose of our visit, where we’re going, all that stuff. When we told them we planned on taking the scenic route to the capital, the radio chatter started. They insisted we find another route, but the golden plains are one of the “Must See” views of the Sunset Savanna. Plus, we don’t have the money for fancy transportation. I’m sure we’ll be fine with a three-day walk, especially when there are rest stops that have some of the best hospitality.

In the end, our names, details, and contact information were taken. They even took pictures of us from different angles. It’s as if they’re expecting something to happen.

Some of the locals acted odd too, after we told them we were heading through the plains. Some gave us extra food, one gave us a discount, and one strangely gave us a compass—all with the same weird look. Still, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Anyway, it was an exciting start but I can’t wait to get trekking. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

~~~~~

October 25, 20XX

Waking up to Ace and Deuce arguing is going to get old real fast, but I should probably get used to it. They are “best friends” after all.

After the commotion, we prepared to head out. The locals again reminded us not to get distracted. Explicit instructions told us that there were to be no detours and no delays. Honestly, it started to kill the excitement. However, it’s going to take three days to reach the capital—one day to get to the first camp, one to get to the second, and one to get to the city—so it’s probably just proper precaution.

A single step into the gold plains was all it took for the grass to dwarf us. Elephant grass is notoriously tall, but I couldn’t have prepared for just how small we were. It felt like being thrown into a maze; yellow grass, the dirt under our feet, and the blue sky above were all that could be seen. It became intimidating along with its wonder and beauty. Fortunately, there’s only one path.

Not long after we began, Ace started talking tales of some banished prince. He heard the story from a shop owner he bought cookies from after being kicked from the cabin earlier. The reason I hadn’t heard anything was because of how recent it had been. Supposedly, just days ago, he tried to overthrow the king and murder the heir. People called for his execution, but the king didn’t have the heart to kill his own brother. Instead, he was exiled. But while being transported out of the country, he was set free by his followers—his jailers’ bodies were found maimed beyond recognition. Now the rumors say he’s hiding out to the east in the Shadowlands.

I didn’t want to hear any more, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Ace to stop. Instead, he just kept talking, probably trying to scare us. And yet I think he also scared himself. It didn’t help that we could hear things rustling in the grass. I thought I saw something once, but couldn’t say for sure. Even though the locals said most wildlife would ignore us, it’s unnerving not to see what we can hear.

Despite the spooky stories, we made good time. The rest stop was within reach well before the sun started to set. Camp guards ushered us inside the fence, demanding our names, birthdays, reasons for travel—the same information we provided at the outpost. It must’ve been to check that we were on the list of expected visitors, which is a little strange considering I noticed ours were the only names on it.

It’s a small campsite. There are a few cabins around the clearing. A massive ring circles the whole place, dotted with devices that appear newly installed. Deuce says they’re for magic defense. Nobody can use magic in the camp and magic can’t get in. For all the security, that’s probably why we were instructed to arrive before sundown.

Well, I better get some sleep. Another long day of walking awaits tomorrow.

~~~~~

October 26, 20XX

A member of the camp staff woke us early this morning—the sun hadn’t even broken the horizon. All color had forsaken his face as he rushed us to dress and pack. No answers were offered to our question, only echoes that we leave immediately.

And again, as we stepped foot into the wilderness, we were warned to stay on the path and stop for nothing.

On our way out, the ruckus could be heard. They found something unusual at one of the barrier projectors. It would make sense to get us out of the way so they could focus on repairs. Yet I can’t help wondering if the hole being dug on the outskirts of the campsite had something to do with it. What was it for? What happened last night while we were all asleep? Did something get in? Where was it now?

That must be my imagination talking. It was early so it would be easy to misunderstand the whole thing. Besides, we needed to leave earlier since today’s trek was longer than yesterday. The sun would be long gone before we reached the next camp otherwise.

If only the boys could’ve kept their mouths shut. They argued the whole way. Ace sulked about not getting to sleep in and Deuce’s phone was missing. He demanded that Ace give it back, but Ace denied having it. The accusations probably come from last night’s teasing over Deuce messaging his mom, but I think he misplaced it in a different pocket. Hopefully he finds it soon or he’ll have to spend some of that souvenir money on a replacement.

Their fighting slowed us down, delaying our arrival at the second camp until just after sundown. Our reception by the staff was rough. After being jerked inside and held under duress, the interrogation went on until they could confirm we were the names on the list of travelers. So much for the hospitality.

There were no apologies as they put us in a cabin for the night. That’s where everything in Ace’s pack got dumped out and it still wasn’t enough to convince Deuce about his phone. So the arguing continued, even as I left to get a break from it all.

This second rest stop is much like the first. Cabins and staff equipment are scattered around. Though people are quiet at night, I could hear animals beyond the barrier. I think I even saw one. It was big, maybe the size of an antelope. It’s crazy how comfortable the wildlife is so close to settlements like this.

Well, I’m tucked in now and Deuce and Ace are pouting in their own beds. We’ll set out again in the morning and, by sunset tomorrow, we’ll be in Sunrise City.

~~~~~

October 27, 20XX

We messed up.

Ace really didn’t have Deuce’s phone. But neither did Deuce.

Like the day before, we were woken up early and sent on our way. Camp staff barely gave us time to pack before shoving us out. There was no time to question the hasty behavior and it left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. Still, we went on our way as planned.

After noon, Deuce made us stop, yelling at us to be quiet. I thought he was crazy, but then I heard it too.

It was his mom’s ringtone.

Coming from the elephant grass.

We couldn’t stop him. He just took off. It was a blind run as Ace and I tried to keep up. We never would’ve caught up if he hadn’t stopped. In his hand was his phone, still ringing yet entirely useless. The screen was shattered and the frame bent. It was a miracle it could still even ring. How it got there and how it got destroyed is a mystery—one made worse by the fact that we couldn’t find the path again.

No one could say for sure which way we ran and the grass gave us nothing to find our bearings. Our phones were just handy clocks with no service in the middle of nowhere. Only the compass gave us any consolation. Surely heading south will get us out of here.

To make matters worse, night fell sooner than we anticipated. Making camp was the only sensible solution, no matter how badly we want to get out of here.

Now here I sit, in our little tent, listening to things creeping all around us. I have this nagging feeling that, whatever they are, they’ve been following us and I don’t know if it makes me feel better or worse that I can’t see them.

It’s probably just my paranoia. If we keep going south, we’ll make it out of here tomorrow. By now the savanna guides must realize we’re missing and be looking for us. We’ll be laughing about this whole thing in Sunrise City by lunch, except Deuce who will have to buy a new phone. Because of course this is the kind of trouble we would get ourselves into.

Everything will be fine.

~~~~~

October 28, 20XX

Maybe my paranoia last night wasn’t just paranoia.

None of us got any sleep at all. Whatever was sneaking through the grass lingered all night, getting louder and louder with their cackling and snarling. When we finally ventured out of the tent this morning, we were greeted with the destruction of our supplies. Everything was scattered, either destroyed or altogether missing. Here and there were pieces of the map, unsalvageable, and the compass was gone. Our bags were placed right outside the tent because keeping food inside is frowned upon for this reason, but now we have no food, no directions, and maybe half our belongings.

There was nothing to do but pick up what we could and continue walking.

Ace’s pessimism didn’t help. He’s convinced it was the banished prince at our camp, but all we could tell from the flattened grass was that they were large creatures. Still, the constant talk of our doom began to bother me and Deuce. I just hope whatever they are, they realize we don’t have anything else and leave us alone.

I don’t know how, but we must’ve gotten turned around somewhere. We tried to follow the sun, but each step was just more and more grass, hiding the unknown, letting us hope that the end is just one more step. Now the sky is black and we’re still here. We’re exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. So we set up camp to spend another night in this place.

~~~~~

October 29, 20XX

I’m getting really scared now.

Our tent was shaken by a fight just outside last night, but we were all too scared to make a sound. In the morning, not a word was said as we walked. Only this time, we knew the noises in the grass were them. They are following us. No, stalking is more accurate. I can hear them snicker and growl. I’m sure if I reached into the grass, I would touch one.

But they have nothing on the banished prince.

I’m not sure how, but I always knew it wasn’t him stalking us but his hyena henchmen. They’re destructive and menacing, but he’s a monster hiding in the shadows. He’s behind this.

I don’t remember when I spotted him, but I could feel his gaze on me, different from the other beasts. His growl shot through my heart and it felt like I had his claws at my throat. Barely veiled by grass, he wanted me to see him. Fangs eager to tear gleamed in that grin. Behind his gaze was nothing but malice, highlighted by the ink dripping across his skin. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even breathe. I was so certain that those bloodthirsty green eyes would be the last thing I ever saw.

And then he was gone. He wasn’t really gone, only gone from sight. There’s no doubt that he and his pack are watching us even now. We’ve been sentenced to death and they’re just toying with us.

We’re never getting out of here. Even if it weren’t for the monsters hunting us, we have no food and no more water. I don’t know if we can survive another night out here. I regret everything. I never should’ve suggested this trip. Because of me, we’re going to die out here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry to Ace and Deuce. I’m sorry to Deuce’s mom and Ace’s family. I’m so sorry I got your boys into this mess. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

I wish this nightmare would just end.

~~~~~

October 30, 20XX

We lost Ace today.

Tension was high. We’re being hunted. We know we’re going to die. The fear of what’s in store for us is sickening. Unlike yesterday, Ace and Deuce couldn’t stop arguing. A fight was inevitable. When Ace knocked Deuce to the ground, he took off. We tried to find him—spent hours calling his name. But we never found him.

Long after the sun had gone, the grass finally parted. At first, we were excited. I think I cried. Then I realized where we were.

Rocky, barren land laid before us. Towers of stone loomed above, colder and less forgiving than the grass we escaped. An eerie fog hovered, concealing both new and old monsters. It was bad. We found the Shadowlands. Sunrise City was meant to be south of the port we started at. Those beasts managed to manipulate our path away from our destination and far to the east. He led us here to be slaughtered.

This is where we found Ace’s magic pen.

Nothing else.

We considered our options. The grass gave us no visibility and muddled our sense of direction. On the other hand, the Shadowlands were the prince’s territory. Both were bad choices, but we chose not to go back. At least in the Shadowlands, we had a chance. We knew where we were and how to get to where we needed to. Maybe Deuce and I could still find our way to Sunrise City. Maybe we could send a search party back for Ace.

Maybe this terrible journey will be over soon.

~~~~~

October 31, 20XX

We were wrong! We should’ve gone back!

If anyone finds this, stay out of the Shadowlands!

They took Deuce! They dragged him out of the tent! I can’t hear him scream anymore!

If you see this RUN!

GET OUT OF HERE!

GET OUT BEFORE LEONA KINGSCHOLAR FIN

~~~~~

#twisted wonderland zine #zine feat nova #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #ace trappola #deuce spade #gender neutral reader #yes reposted because i jumped the gun

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doodleswithangie · 8 months

Text

"Boldness will be required in the days to come, Lapin."

My piece for "CANDY COUTURE VOL. 2" ran by @kindlespark as part of this year's D20 Zine Jam! This one was definitely a journey but I'm very proud of how it came together.

If you want to check out everyone's incredible pieces and for a look into our design processes, the zine is available here and as part of a pay-what-you-want bundle with 49 other D20 zines here! All proceeds from the sale of this bundle will be donated to the entertainment community fund in solidarity with the SAG/WGA strikes.

[Image description: Fanart of The Sugar-Plum Fairy and Chancellor Lapin Cadbury from Dimension 20's "A Crown of Candy." Alt text is provided and copied below the cut, along with a more detailed image description of their clothing.]

A recreation of Sugar-Plum Fairy and Lapin's meeting in Episode 1. They are depicted as haloed figures dressed in Rococo and Baroque inspired fashion. A cracked teacup mended with golden magic stands on the pedestal behind them.

As he bows, Lapin shifts his heavy blue cape to reveal an emerald green two piece suit. Both are adorn with lace appliques and beading.

The Sugar-Plum Fairy wears a Rococo style gown over an off-the-shoulder frilled chemise and draped in a cerulean wrap. A small pair of feathered wings is affixed to the bodice, which features beading and boughs of ribbon that pattern throughout the dress. Giant sugar plum leaves layer a red spotted fringed petticoat and striped purple underskirt below. Her hair is inspired by Marie Antoinette, with an extravagant headpiece of masks, sugar plum leaves, and feathers.

End ID

#dimension 20 #d20 #dimension twenty #d20 zine jam #a crown of candy #acoc #lapin cadbury #chancellor lapin cadbury #sugar plum fairy #rococo #baroque #historical fashion #digital art #artists on tumblr #doodleswithangie

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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 2 months

Text

Dennis writes a letter 💌

(My fic for @its-always-ziney-in-philadelphia 's Valentine's Day zine)

Read here on AO3, here for the full zine, or below the cut!

It starts with a box of chocolates, as all romantic gestures that Dennis has read about do. He buys them from this fancy place in Rittenhouse Square that charges an extra five bucks for gift wrap, though he manages to charm the guy behind the counter into waiving it and walks out of there only twenty bucks lighter.

Once home, he attaches a tag to the box- For Mac, from Dennis- and stands back to admire his work. He places the box in the kitchen for Mac to find when he gets there, at which point Dennis is sure Mac will throw himself at his feet with words of praise for his boyfriend’s gesture. Plus, this is only the first step of his grand plan for Valentine’s Day, the entirety of which involves far more than just chocolate. He is going to blow. Mac’s. mind.

At least, this is the way Dennis envisions things going.

How it actually goes?

“Oh, sweet, Den! That’s so cool!”

Dennis tries not to let the disappointment show on his face at his roommate’s lacklustre reaction to what he is sure amounts to a proper gesture of affection... right? Every website he scoured told him that there was no clearer message of affection than a box of chocolates on Valentine’s, and yet Mac only claps him on the back and walks off with them after Dennis humbly presents his offering. Like it was nothing more than a bag of chips or a takeaway pizza.

He stands there in the kitchen for a few seconds after he hears the door to Mac’s room close, blinking as his brain short circuits.

What the flying fuck is he doing wrong?

His next attempt at proving his love for Mac according to the five-step plan Dennis has constructed involves breakfast in bed, a true staple of the romantic flicks the two of them used to (platonically) watch every so often before the themes became too confronting. He wakes up bright and early on the morning of February 14th and sets to work on his creation in the kitchen while Mac remains asleep. It’s not a simple affair, either- there’s bacon to be cooked, and eggs, and pancakes dotted with blueberries that Dennis very nearly burns himself trying to flip.

Cooking isn’t something he does very often, after all. It’s a little harder than he anticipates.

Still, he manages to arrange the plate perfectly, even the side toast is the exact shade of golden brown that he knows Mac likes. Any darker, and Mac says the carbon makes the bread toxic. Dennis isn’t quite sure that’s true, but he’s not going to risk serving Mac poison on Valentine’s Day of all days.

He’s just about to pick up the tray and turn around when he hears Mac’s door open. His stomach drops.

No. No. Get back in there, Ronald McDonald, or so help me God I’m going to-

“Den! You’re up early.”

Dennis wheels around to face him, cheeks aglow. “Uh, Mac- yeah, I was just- I was just making you breakfast.”

Mac stretches in his doorway, though one hand still remains at his side- a hand that Dennis soon realises is holding a gym bag.

“That’s nice of you, dude, but I’m heading to the gym. You made some for yourself too, right?”

Dennis glances back at the worktop, though he’s not quite sure why. He knows that he didn’t make himself any, because of course he didn’t. Breakfast isn’t his thing.

“Uh, yeah, I...”

“Sweet. I’ll see you around later, alright?” Mac wanders over to Dennis and presses a kiss to his cheek, eyes moving briefly to the tray. “Hah. Cool. Looks almost like a smiley face.”

Dennis watches him leave with a growing pit in his stomach, and barely forces out a fake chuckle at the ‘coincidence’, that tapers off the moment the door to the apartment closes. He picks up the tray and curls his lip at the ridiculous face which stares back at him, almost taunting, and the heart shaped toast he’d carefully cut out with a knife.

He throws the whole thing directly in the trash.

The bar is empty when Dennis arrives. Mac’s still at the gym, Dee’s probably still in bed, and Charlie and Frank are probably fucking around playing some Valentine’s version of NightCrawlers.

It doesn’t matter, though. Dennis is glad that he’s alone because it means he can place step 3 of his Grand Valentine’s Day Plan right on top of the bar ready for when Mac enters- a little vase of flowers, each one picked out especially for the occasion. He’d endured the allergen hell that was the florists for Mac, and even now the pollen makes his nostrils itch, yet he doesn’t consider abandoning his plan for a second. The chocolates and the breakfast in bed were missteps. This will prove to Mac just how he feels. It’s written there, spelled out in the petals.

Baby’s breath symbolising everlasting affection. Bluebells for humility. Pink Camellia for longing. Daisies for loyalty. Heliotrope for devotion.

Red Chrysanthemums- I love you.

He spends a few moments longer arranging them to look their best, then slips a little note underneath the vase for Mac to see once he picks them up. The action means he has to muffle a few sneezes into his elbow, but it’s worth it.

Tired from his early morning escapades (nobreakfastnobreakfastnobreakfast), he pulls himself into the back room and flops down onto the desk chair. The moment he closes his eyes, he falls asleep.

When he wakes, he can hear footsteps and conversation outside, and his pulse leaps at the realisation that it means Mac has discovered his gesture. He stands up and tugs nervously at the fingers of his right hand, then opens the door to the main bar. This is it. This is his chance to explain what each flower means, and in doing so assure Mac that though he may not have said it in words yet, he’s said it in petals. He loves him.

The moment Dennis turns to the spot where the flowers should be, though, his stomach sinks. They’re not there.

He can do nothing but stand there for a few seconds, brain short-circuiting as he tries to figure out what could have possibly occurred to displace his gift, when he sees Mac pop up from behind the bar, apparently having been crouched under there cleaning a soda pipe.

“Hey Den! You feeling okay?”

Dennis doesn’t know whether the question is posed because of his impromptu nap or the way the light has probably faded from his eyes, but it doesn’t matter. He clears his throat and replies,

“What happened to the flowers on the bar?”

Mac’s expression morphs into one of understanding- or, at least, a false sense of understanding, given Dennis knows exactly what he’s going to allude to.

“Ah, right, of course! See, I knew they were going to give your allergies trouble, which they obviously have- sorry dude, I don’t know who put them there- so I got Dee to throw them out the back.” He grins, so assured of his good deed that he looks like a proud puppy after completing his first successful trick.

Dennis, meanwhile, feels the familiar weight of disappointment heavy on his shoulders.

“Ah... cool. Right. I’m... I’m gonna go outside for a smoke. Don’t wait up for me.”

Mac makes a slightly confused face, but lets Dennis trudge to the back anyway. Once outside, it doesn’t take long for the latter to see the bunch of flowers sticking out of the trash can, their stems bent, a few errant petals scattered across the ground. Dennis’ fists curl up with frustration. He wanders over to his ruined gift and shoves it a little further into the trash, a low growl building in his throat when it refuses to goddamn go down. Stupid fucking idea. Stupid fucking gift. Stupid fucking Valentine’s Day. Stupid fucking-

“Dennis?”

Oh. Fantastic. The last person he wants to see right now is here.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders, and doesn’t turn around until he’s convinced he’s not about to let how upset he is show. “What do you want, Dee?”

She’s standing just outside the back entrance to Paddy’s, brows creased with almost concern. “Is this about the flowers you put out for Mac?”

Dennis’ ears flush so red he can feel their temperature rise. He hates being a twin sometimes.

“What do you care?” he snarls.

She doesn’t retreat beneath his anger. Never has. Instead, she merely sighs, holding a little scrap of paper aloft that Dennis recognises with a pang of dread. “I found this underneath the vase while I was picking it up to throw out.”

Her brother says nothing. What can he say?

“You were inviting him for dinner? On Valentine’s?”

It doesn’t sound like she’s mocking him, but his own vulnerability being parroted back at him hurts all the same so he marches forward, snatching the note from her grasp before wheeling back around and pacing in front of the dumpsters. “Just- just fuck off, alright, Dee? I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, tough shit, dickbag. You’re my brother. Unfortunately, whether you like it or not, I’ve become wrapped up in this love affair between you and Mac, and somehow the fact that you’re asking him out on a date for Valentine’s is almost touching to me... Y’know, Mac didn’t see the note, Den.” Despite himself, Dennis freezes. “He saw the flowers, that’s all, and the only reason he got rid of those was because he thought someone else left them in there, and he was worried they were going to set your allergies off.”

Dee gives him a once-over, wrinkling her nose at the redness she seems to perceive in his. “Apparently for good reason.”

Dennis rolls his eyes.

“Look, what I’m saying is he didn’t do this maliciously. In fact, it was the opposite. He was trying to look out for you.”

“Yeah, well, I wish he’d open his goddamn eyes for once!” Dennis growls, still pacing like a caged tiger. “I don’t get it, Dee. I’m doing everything that I’m supposed to do.”

“Everything you’re... supposed to?”

Dennis pauses, looking at her as though she only has half a brain. Throws up his hands in exasperation. “Yeah! I followed all the stupid steps on these stupid websites to show him that I care about him, and for what? The stupid idiot doesn’t even notice!”

He’s aware that he’s said ‘stupid’ way too many times, but he’s angry, and the coherence in his head evaporates before it can reach his lips. Dee doesn’t seem phased by his outburst in the least.

“Look,” she says, far too gentle for comfort. “Have you ever wondered why he doesn’t notice these things?”

Dennis quirks a brow. Waits for her to do what she’s never done before, and enlighten him.

“Alright, let’s break it down. It won’t take long. Who, in Mac’s life, has ever shown him proper affection?”

The question catches him so off guard that the first reaction Dennis has is to chuckle. That’s ridiculous. Of course Mac has... he’s... A cool flood of realisation washes over him like the sweat of a bad dream. The mirth fades from his features, and his arms fall limply to his sides. Oh.

Nobody.

Dee smiles a little. “Get it now?”

Dennis swallows and looks her in the eyes with the sincerest expression he’s ever mustered. “So- so what the fuck do I do then? How am I supposed to show affection to a guy who doesn’t even know what that looks like?”

“How did we show each other, Den? Back when we were kids?”

He feels his features soften, and as he looks at his twin sister, he’s half compelled to hug her.

Of course.

“Thank you.” He murmurs.

Dee only nods towards the exit of the alley. “Yeah. I know. Go do what you gotta do, asshole. I’ll tell Mac to dress pretty for his date tonight, alright?”

For once, Dennis is sat in Guigino’s before Mac arrives, his leg bouncing up and down beneath the best table in the restaurant (far from any fans or kitchen doors). He’s checked his appearance in his compact mirror ten times already, but that doesn’t stop him from hazarding another quick look while the coast is clear.

Usually, he’s only dressed in a shirt and pants- perhaps a little more formal than his day-to-day attire, but nothing to write home about. Tonight, however, he’s jazzed it up with a proper suit jacket and matching pants, plus a pocket square that perfectly resembles the shade of his shirt. His hair is styled in that carefully constructed muss of curls which is so particular to His Look™ at the moment. He’s wearing Mac’s favourite cologne. He’s wearing just a touch of mascara. He’s wearing the most nervous expression he’s ever sported in his life.

There’s no fanfare when Mac walks in, as much as Dennis would’ve liked that, but it seems to play in his head regardless, because damn. Mac. Looks. Good.

Evidently, he got Dee’s memo about dressing fancy, and for once he’s ditched the monthly dinner polo in favour of an actual dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows accentuating the muscles of his arms. His hair isn’t gelled, and Dennis thinks the slightly fluffy look he’s rocking is hot as shit. It reminds him of when times were a little bit simpler. Back when labels were things you put on diagrams instead of complicated relationships with your roommate.

Still, as Mac wanders towards the table, a smile lighting up his expression like summer’s sunshine, Dennis finds himself somewhat glad that things have changed.

Because tonight, unlike twenty years ago, Mac is his boyfriend.

“Hey.” Dennis greets, standing up to meet him, cheeks uncharacteristically flushed.

Mac grins. “Uh, hi- wow, dude, you look good.”

Despite how much it makes him want to puff out his chest like a proud little robin, Dennis restrains himself and merely smiles back. “So do you, babe.”

Babe. The word feels almost unfamiliar on his tongue when used for Mac, given that they’ve spent much of their adult lives calling each other ‘dude’ or ‘bro.’ Still, Dennis needs to show Mac that he’s serious about all that romance shit. If that means peppering in a few pet names to get him primed, count him in.

They sit down, and after ordering and receiving their food, the conversation flows almost like usual. Dennis tries to forget that he was ever frustrated at Mac for missing the overt gestures he was making, and focuses instead on just how much he’s missed sitting down like this and catching up. It may have only been a few days in reality, but given that Dennis’ mind has been fixed on making plans instead of the recipient of them (his boyfriend), it feels like far longer.

Eventually, they finish their meal, and usually it would be time for them to start getting ready to leave. Tonight, though? Tonight, Dennis holds out a hand when Mac stands up, and bids him sit down a little longer.

“I... I wanted to... to give you something.” He says. “For Valentine’s Day.”

And with this, he removes a piece of paper from his pocket, and hands it to Mac. The contents are still fresh in his mind from the hours he spent agonizing over each word, and he hears them in his head while he glances up every so often at Mac’s eyes gliding along the page.

Mac,

For the last few weeks I’ve been trying to think of what to do for today. I spent hours researching romantic gestures online, and I tried to enact them- but I’d failed to realise that what we have is different from the relationships in tabloids and novels. We’re real, Mac. It’s not always as simple as the movies.

I told Dee about this (I know, but please hear me out) and she reminded me of something we used to do when we were kids, and Mom and Dad wouldn’t let us talk to each other for some punishment or other. We used to write letters. It started as a necessary tactic to skirt around the rules and communicate, but it turned out to be easier expressing things in a letter than saying them out loud, so I thought I’d do the same thing here.

Here goes...

I love you, Mac. There it is in writing, so you can show it to me whenever you piss me off with your Borat impressions and excessive hair gel. Because it’ll still be true. I love you.

It’s not much of a Valentine’s gift, but it’s the one thing I want to give you more than anything, now until the end of time.

Yours always,

Den.

Dennis spends the whole duration of the letter tugging on his earlobe, eyes fixed on the white tablecloth. The prospect of Mac recoiling at this rare expression of vulnerability is terrifying. Even now, Frank’s denunciations of anything that made his son seem like a ‘nancy boy’ echo in his mind, and it takes that repetitive tugging to keep himself from reaching over and setting the evidence of feelings alight by the flame of the candle on the table.

But then Mac reaches over, and slowly, gently, takes Dennis’ free hand. Dennis looks up.

He doesn’t even need to wait to hear Mac say it- it’s written in his eyes just as clearly as on the paper in his hand.

Love.

And Dennis’ lip trembles beneath the weight of it.

#iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #dennis reynolds #its always sunny #macdennis #valentines day fic #sunny valentines day zine #iasip fic #macdennis fic

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