The Blacksmith and the Baker's Son

*cradles ur cheeks in my hands and looks deeply into ur eyes*

Y’know I was expecting this chapter to be maybe 10k words but I just now decided to introduce a subplot. 

We’re at like 6k words as of right now and i’m not even halfway done

“We still have a whole other thing to find,” John said, propping himself back up.

“Oh yeah. What was it again? Some kind of potion?”

“A potion stolen from a gravedigger’s mound,” John said, rolling off Dave to go and find the map.

“Any idea what the fuck that is?” Dave asked, sitting up.

“Nope. MM didn’t really do that potion stuff, and even if he did, it’s super complicated, so he never would have taught me,” John said, rifling through Dave’s bag before eventually finding it. He launched himself back on the bed, sitting next to Dave. He rolled out the map so it was over both of their laps. Dave rested his chin on John’s shoulder, which was probably very uncomfortable for him, but John didn’t mind.

“So we’re here,” John said, pointing at the little doodle of fire.

“What are other words for gravedigger?” Dave asked, “maybe it’s like the name of a town. Or a hill.” John shrugged.

“Uh…undertaker?”

“Toumbmaker.”

“Dave,” John said, turning his head to him slightly, “I have literally never heard anyone use that word in my life.”

“Sure you have,” Dave said seriously, “I used it like half a second ago. Come on, Egbert, keep up.” John snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, going back to the map.

“You love me anyway,” Dave said, nuzzling the side of John’s face a little.

“Don’t push your luck,” John replied, shoving Dave in the chest a little. Dave gasped in mock horror.

“Oh no, this is how relationships end, isn’t it?” He said dramatically putting the back of his hand to his forehead, “one minute its the honeymoon period, the next you’re sitting there wondering how you lost their heart-“

“I’m pretty sure we’re still in the honeymoon period,” John interrupted. Dave continued like he hadn’t said anything.

“John, baby, darling, honey, bacon boy,” Dave cried, grabbing onto John’s waist, “please, tell me what I did wrong, how can I ever make you forgive me?”

“Dave! You’re going to rip the map!” John cried, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact he was laughing. Dave starting leaning backwards, pulling John down so he was lying. He rolled on top of John, his elbows either side of John’s head. John dropped the map, settling for his hands on Dave’s sides.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Dave responded. John bit his lip and was quiet a while, just looking at Dave. Slowly, he leaned up, tilting his head to the side, and-

the blacksmith and the baker’s son, also known as big ass dork and short chubby gay witch (and his new (just as small) sword. I’m so proud)