𝙴𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

also to people who have no fuckin idea wtf is happening or what the mr plant series is u dont have to read it this is just a random idea lmao
          v
          v

(pt 3)
          SRSLY YALL BETTER TELL ME IF ITS BAD-
          
          
          He took off the mask. The large and colorful changing one he’d worn around so many days just to hide himself. He wondered why Argos never wore one. Had he ever? Or was he not ashamed? Wasn’t he? To be stuck in a place like the void, you’d have to have done something wrong. Gone out of place. Disobeyed some sort of law. So why was Argos here? What could someone like him have ever done wrong? He was like a saint there. So why was he there? Why was he there when Mr. Plant had finally been sentenced to some sort of lifetime there? He now noticed so many other things about the man. How oddly mysterious it was that he was even here. He was like a sentient beam of sunshine. And last time Mr. Plant checked, that wasn’t illegal in any way. 
          
          He set the paper mask down on the bedside table. What would happen if he were to show Argos the last secret head to hide? His face wasn’t something he flaunted. Not at all. Frankly, he despised it. But maybe Argos made him feel something. A twinge of emotion other than irritation or hatred. Maybe something else. Something he couldn’t remember feeling before then. Some sort of warm bubbly sensation that he now couldn’t push out of his brain. Maybe he didn’t hate Argos. Maybe he wanted to know more about him. Maybe he really truly found a compatible match to his endless insanity, somehow. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally noticed that. 
          
          He knew what that twinge of emotion was now. 
          
          Love.

(pt 2)
          He always lowered the volume of his voice when stepping into Mr. Plant’s void. He always found the quiet sanctity in there peaceful, he thought that maybe Mr. Plant did too, and that maybe he shouldn’t disrupt it. 
          
          Mr. Plant, of course, noticed this. It did not budge him a single bit more into liking Argos at all. He hated him. That was final. Argos set down some kind of plate on the coffee table between them. “I’ve gotta run some errands, but, I uh, found these. And thought you might like them.” He smiled. Still annoying and wretched. Mr. Plant looked down at the plate. Mushrooms. Just by being near Argos’ he thought that he’d never have the guts to go into the colder side of the void and forage for them. They were rarities. He could tell they were freshly picked. Argos’ smile hung there for a few more moments, before he brought his hand up to wave. “I hope you enjoy them- I’ll leave you alone, now.” He turned on his heel, walking back towards the door. It shut. He looked back down at the mushrooms. Dead, of course. Mr. Plant looked up at the clock on the wall. The new clock, the clock Argos had bought for him.
          
          The ticking was so much fainter than the other clock. Practically silent, helping keep the peaceful tranquility of his void. Had Argos considered that as well? How had he known? But Mr. Plant hated him. He hated Argos, and his terrible smile. Didn’t he? 
          
          He got up from the couch, sitting, then later on lying on his bed. His eyes continued to point at the clock. He imagined Argos’ smile. That horrid thing. How he was so considerate, something not a lot of people even tried to be. How sweet and optimistic he was. How he always looked to the positive first. How he still stayed even after…

yall gotta tell me how this sounds and be honest if its shitty asf
          
          --Pining--
          
          Mr. Plant hated Argos.
          
          Or, at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He hated him when they’d first met, and he hated him now. He hated his optimistic ideas, he hated his eyes, he hated his smile, his face, the way he drank his tea. He hated him. He’d tried to drive him away, show him truly who and what he was. A murderer, a fucking maniac. An introvert-ish lunatic with a broken mind. But he never seemed to leave. He was always there, always looking on the bright side. Always finding something to do that might boost Mr. Plant’s spirits. It was irritating. It was awful.
          
          In fact, Argos’ constant attempts to somehow “be with” Mr. Plant were quite frankly, infuriating. He hated him. Hated, hate, hate, hate, hate-
          
          He blinked, eyes moving toward the sudden knock on the door. And then the head that popped in through the crack in it. “Mr. Plant?” Argos stepped in, shutting the door behind him. 
          (hang on ill post the rest in a sec)

was readin some mr plant & argos things over at @Panfroggie 's acc- (check em out) and i now want to write them out on docs and see if im shit at it or not because currently ive been drawing them nonstop but have NOT been writing anything
          sm drawing inspiration but for some reason literally no writing inspo 
          if i make another book understand that i am
          i have
          i am the stupid 
          i get into fandoms too fast oh boi
          gonna see if my arts somewhere on google so i can just use it as a cover or sth

i already shared my discord so like,, 
          my instgrams are 
          acc hidden safely away from my parents and fam:
          @that_onepansexual_theaterkid
          acc that the fam follows:
          @musical_relate_name_goes_heere
          sketcheroo acc for that last one:
          @musicalrngheeres_doodles

IM BACK AND I PROMISE N O T DEAD!!!
          CHAPTER FORTY TWO OF THE KLEINPHY BOOK IS OUT FOR YOU GUYS!!!
          (sorry in advance if the writing style is different, took me a minute to regain the motivation to write, and my style changed within that minute lol)

i just
          want to
          go apeshit and
          write out some kinda mr. plant x argos angst or sth-
          on docs- 
          and see if its decent enough to post later-
          i might- 
          OHbOi

i need writing motivation
          i HAVE drawing motivation
          i NEED writing motivation

why did i write a 5000 worded chapter on the sally face gc fic, you ask?
          
          well
          
          EMERSON DOESN'T FUCKING KNOW EITHER.