#uhhhhhhh yeah :3!

[pup-pee]

ofc u can ^^ feel free 2!!!!!

heres a ver w/out the pink bg if that helps @ all

i h8 coloring. whatever, yuri kart

[ravenwolfie97]

In Wishes and Memories: Chapter 1

Siffrin finished their quest, but they've still got some journeying to do with the rest of the party. What will they find, learn, and realize as they continue their travels? What else does the Universe have in store for them?

(after finishing the game recently, i was filled with thoughts and ideas and i needed to do something with them. i have an over-arching plan for this story though, so i hope you stick with it and enjoy!)

(cross-posted on AO3, but my main audience is here lol)

Reality was finally starting to settle in.

The timeloops were broken, and you were finally free from your curse, fulfilling the conflicting wishes and saving Vaugarde and your friends... your family... your loved ones.

And now, they'll continue moving onward in their journey together with you - the first step of which being returning Bonnie to Bambouche now that their sister was unfrozen.

…With an ulterior motive of finding your hat.

It blew away from the tippy top of the House after you returned back to normal. 

And that hat meant a lot to you; it’s part of what little remained of your country, and you've had it for as long as you could remember.

As everyone travelled one last time through the village, celebrating and eating and merrymaking with the people of Vaugarde, you mostly tried to hang back, to come to terms with what had just gone down. 

You still felt pretty Craft-sick, worn out and dizzy. Though, a full stomach packed with tasty Vaugardian foods made you feel a lot better.

You were really looking forward to a night of actual rest… with a brand-new sunrise awaiting you once your eye opened next.

☆☆☆

It was only about an hour into the celebrations when you saw Isabeau had noticed you sitting on the bench next to the library. He came up and quietly joined you on the bench.

"Hey, Sif." His voice was low and gentle. "How're you holding up?"

You didn't want to pretend anymore. "I'm pretty tired, still," you replied honestly. 

Isabeau crossed his arms. "Makes sense. You have had quite a lot going on for yourself these last couple days." He paused. "Or, I guess, technically way more than that. Do you know how many times you looped, anyway?"

From the way you instinctively withdrew, Isabeau realized his curiosity had trumped his courtesy. "O-oh, I'm sorry, that's probably still a sensitive topic..." 

"No, it's okay," you interjected. "It's just... not something I want to think about right now... Don't think I would remember, anyway."

Isabeau let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah... Alright, then." 

You both looked out into the crowd: Mirabelle was chatting with other Housemaidens, including that stylish fan of hers; Odile was speaking with some of the older folk of the town; Bonnie was playing with some of the other kids. 

Isabeau turned back to look at you. "It seems like the others are preoccupied at the moment, so... what would you like to do now, Sif? Do you wanna go back to the Clocktower and take a nap? We still have accommodations there for the night."

You nodded. "Can you come with me, too, Isa?"

Isabeau's cheeks darkened at an embarrassingly quick rate. "S-sure! Yeah, let's head over there now!"

He leapt up a little too energetically off of the bench but slowed down for you. "Do you need to lean on me again?" he asked, extending an arm out to you.

"I don't think so," you answered. "But... I'd like to hold your hand."

Without waiting for a response, you grabbed Isabeau's hand, lifted yourself up from the bench, and came around to his side. "Let's go."

"Okay, yeah, here we go!" Isabeau started walking towards the eastern side of Dormont, feeling the weight of your hand as you both lightly swung your arms back and forth. It was hardly big enough to wrap around his palm. 

Isabeau had to try and maintain a slower pace to accommodate you, but it didn't seem like he was burdened by it at all. 

It felt nice, not having to be in a hurry anymore. The two of you could just calmly walk together, hand in hand.

☆☆☆

Soon enough, you both reached the Clocktower. After taking your shoes off, you went right upstairs to the bedroom. Immediately at the sight of a bed, you lumbered towards it and faceplanted directly into the sheets.

Isabeau smiled at you from the stairwell. "Do you need any help from me? Or do you wanna be alone for a bit, or-?"

"No!" Your reaction was immediate. Slow down. Talk it out. "I mean... I don't want you to leave. And, um..." 

You hesitated, through some cocktail of guilt and embarrassment and maybe… romantic inclination?

"I'd like your help with changing clothes."

"Sure! I can take care of that." 

You could tell Isabeau was still pretty excited about being so close to you, especially after finally confessing his feelings, but it felt more like he just wanted to help his hurt friend out. 

Carefully, Isabeau knelt down and unfastened the pins on your cloak, laying it gently over the foot of one of the other beds. 

While he was up, he went into the closet where all their extra sets of clothes were.

As he did so, you sat on the edge of the bed and used your toes to pry the socks off of your feet, tossing them somewhere on the floor.

Lifting your head back up, you saw Isabeau had easily found your small, light pajama set, holding the clothes in his hands. 

They were still folded neatly, since you hadn't slept with the others last night.

Suddenly, you noticed Isabeau freeze in place. And then, the realization hit you, too.

Undressing you was a level of intimacy neither of you would be used to, in a romantic context or otherwise. Definitely way outside of the boundary of "not liking being touched", which was what everyone else had assumed for so long.

Isabeau turned back around to see you now, as you were actively removing your gloves and placing them at your side. You attempted to lift the bottom of your turtleneck up, but…

Ow. Ow, that hurt. Your arms quickly began to ache in that position.

You didn’t expect to feel so worn out that you couldn’t even lift your arms and pull something as light as a shirt. It’s a good thing Isabeau had come with you after all, then.

Isabeau quickly hopped over to you. "Here, let me help you!" He put his hands on the hem of the sweater and looked up at your face. "Can you still lift your arms up?"

Slowly and methodically, you raised your arms up straight. It still hurt, but at least you just had to stay still this time.

Isabeau swiftly lifted your shirt up and pulled it over your head and off your arms.

You thought you would feel more uncomfortable, suddenly being shirtless in front of him. But maybe you were just too tired to care right now. 

You had never gotten changed in front of anyone in a long time. Or maybe that was the time weirdness messing with your perception again. 

Or maybe you just forgot. It wasn’t a super important detail to remember, anyway.

You looked at Isabeau’s face after a moment, noticing him staring at your chest. You knew it’s new to him, but what was so-?

Oh. You glanced down at yourself and saw... a star-shaped symbol in the middle of your chest. Its darkless shade was barely distinct from your pale skin. 

You… don’t remember that being there before. Where did it come from? Or was it always there?

…You weren't even sure if you remembered what your body looked like anymore. Even when you would sleep in the Clocktower, there was no mirror to look at yourself in or anything. 

You didn't want to be exposed to your own disgusting visage if you had any say in it anyway. 

...Those thoughts were going to be pretty hard to get out of, huh? 

You shook your head. No more of that talk. 

Isabeau should keep going.

It looked like he just snapped out of his trance, too.

"AH! SORRY!" he yelped. "H-here, let's get this on, now!" He frantically reached for the pajama top and draped it around your shoulders, covering your chest up except for that star marking.

You slid off of the bed to stand, sliding your arms into the sleeves. "Can you help me with my pants, too?"

Isabeau's entire body tensed up and his face contorted into itself, in a stunned expression. That was cute.

"Y-yeah! I gotcha, Sif," Isabeau responded, his voice decidedly more high-pitched than usual.

You felt Isabeau's fingers brush against your belly as he unbuckled your belt and unfastened the button on your pants. 

What an odd feeling, touching somewhere that private so lightly it hardly even counts. 

But it did to you. Every little touch meant so much to you.

Isabeau delicately rustled his fingertips along the waistband on your pants and pulled them down. You stepped out of them easily, giving the ends a little shake off your ankles. 

Quickly, Isabeau grabbed the soft pajama pants and slid them over your feet, bunching the rest of the legs around your ankles so that he could pull them all the way up easily.

You noticed his fingers linger at your hips. You supposed he had to be at least a little curious. But this was neither the time nor the place for it. He knew that too, and backed off after only a moment.

Isabeau looked up at you one last time, raising his hands to button up your shirt.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks. He didn't have to do that, but the softness and ease with which he slid the buttons through... Something about it made your heart flutter.

"Thank you, Isa," you sighed once he had finished.

"Of course, Sif," he replied, honey in his voice. He looked you right in the eye, full of gratitude, even though you were the one feeling grateful here.

Isabeau got back to his feet. "Is there anything else you need?"

You glanced away, embarrassed to say it. But you should. It would make him feel better to say it.

"Maybe not... need , but... I would like it if... you could stay here and sleep with me."

"O-oh!" Every little thing got Isabeau all flustered. It amused you. "Sure, yes! I-I'll go ahead and change clothes as well, then!" 

He hurriedly scrambled back to the closet to grab his tank top and shorts.

You sat back up onto the edge of your bed and just watched him. 

Isabeau unbuckled his sash and belt, and then slipped out of his shirt. His shoulder and back muscles rippled as he settled back into a relaxed position. 

You weren't... “into it”, per se, but… It was fascinating to watch.

Isabeau continued, shuffling off his big pants before putting on his sleep shorts. He then slipped the tank top over his head.

He turned back around towards you and flinched. “W-were you watching me that whole time…?”

You blushed. “M-maybe…” Quick, think of something funny to break the tension! “You just looked so… im-dress-ive.”

Isabeau couldn't hold back a belly laugh and snorted at your dumb pun. “Alright, that's enough outta you. Time for you to get some crabbing sleep!”

He rushed over to you, scooping you up before you knew it, and plopped you down on the bed. He climbed up on the opposite side not long after you came back to your senses.

You gingerly shuffled your aching body under the sheets and got settled, looking Isabeau in the face as he laid beside you.

You realized he was in the same position as when he almost confessed to you over so many timeloop nights in the Clocktower. And you realized that you never had that moment with him in this timeline. You took the time, through your tired eye, to appreciate every detail in his face, the freckles on his shoulders, the sparkle in his eyes… 

“Hey, Isa…”

“Yeah, Sif?”

“...I love you.”

“...I love you, too, Sif.”

You paused for a moment, noticing your heartbeat pick up speed. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Isabeau's face softened. “Of course.”

You felt Isabeau's hand curl around your cheek as you closed your eye and pulled yourself in. And waited.

His lips met yours. They were so gentle and comforting. Like a small hug. You wanted to stay there forever.

That feeling lulled you closer to sleep. You withdrew from Isabeau's face and nestled yourself into his body. His chest was soft and warm, more comfortable than any pillow.

Fatigue settled into your muscles, your bones, your soul. And you drifted off to sleep.

“Goodnight, Siffrin.”

☆☆☆

You opened your eye and rose from slumber in a half-awake state. You felt very groggy, and your body felt pretty sore, but you didn’t feel as sick now.

Wait. You didn’t immediately recognize where you were. The Clocktower? You looked down at your body to find you’d been changed into your pajamas.

Your brain was foggy. Was all of the last two days a bad dream? Did you reset back to the morning before defeating the King? But you never went back here before. So what-

THUNK!

You jumped as you heard the door downstairs slam shut, followed by someone’s stern voice shushing and scolding whoever did it. You couldn’t quite make it out. Something like, “Keep quiet! Siffrin is still asleep!”

Another, much smaller voice whispered “sorry” back to them.

You continued hearing their collective soft shuffling as you tried to organize your thoughts.

But suddenly, a scent caught your attention. You carefully breathed in… the scent of fresh, warm pastries, wafting up the stairwell. 

They must have been a gift from the boulangerie… after defeating the King… and saving Vaugaude.

A whimper escaped you before you'd realized you started to cry. You tried desperately to hold it in so no one else could hear you or worry about you, but you couldn’t stop many loud sobs from exiting your mouth.

You, at the very least, curled up as tight as you could, hands covering your face, as you heard their footsteps rush up to you.

“Siffrin!!” You heard Mirabelle shout as she hurried to your side.

She sat down next to you, gently tapping your right hand and trying to hold it. You took it down from your face and gripped her hand as hard as you could.

Your cries echoed throughout the Clocktower, from deep within your chest, partnered with hot tears that ran down your face. Your whole body was tight, squeezing out every last ounce of emotion.

After what felt like hours, you finally ran out of tears to cry. Mirabelle offered you some tissues in the meantime, which you needed and generously accepted.

Once your eyesight cleared and you could breathe normally, you saw Odile and Bonnie sitting across from you on the other bed.

“Are you feeling better now, Siffrin?” Odile softly broke the silence.

All you could do was nod in response.

“What happened?” Mirabelle asked. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“We might have woken him up earlier,” Odile mentioned to her, before turning her attention a little harshly to the kid. “Because somebody was being loud downstairs.”

“I already said I was sorry!” Bonnie yelled indignantly before quickly reeling it back in. “D-did I wake you up, Frin?” They turned to you and stared with their large eyes. “I’m really sorry if I did.”

You mustered up a chuckle at them. “No, Bonbon. I was already awake for a bit,” you croaked. “It’s okay. And I’m okay, too, I promise.”

“So what were you crying about?” Bonnie wondered aloud. Typical kid question.

“Siffrin doesn’t have to tell us that,” Odile quickly tried to correct them.

“It’s fine, Odile,” you cut in. “I… don’t really know how to put it into words, though.”

“Were you remembering what happened before?” Mirabelle posited. 

No, but now you remembered it all a little bit. All of the bad things you did and said recently.

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to start crying again.

“That’s not it,” you said. “It’s just that I realized… After you came back in, I knew, for sure, that today… was a new day.”

Suddenly, Mirabelle nearly headbutted you as she flung herself into you, giving you a big hug. “Oh Change, Siffrin! Now you’re going to make ME cry!”

Odile covered her emotional smile with a hand, but you could still see it in her eyes. 

Bonnie gave you a big, excited grin. “Well, we just got a whole bunch of tasty snacks, so now we can have something good to eat to celebrate!”

You laughed and smiled back. “Yeah, we can celebrate! Just as long as it's not all croissants.”

Bonnie looked at you quizzically. “What's the matter with croissants?”

Right. You shook your head. “Long story.”

Suddenly, you froze as you noticed something. “Hey… where is Isabeau?”

The last place you saw him was… right beside you, in bed. That was hours ago, he certainly could have gotten up, but where would he have gone?

“We… aren't sure about that, either,” Mirabelle responded. “While the rest of us were out earlier, he broke away and said he needed to get one last thing before we left Dormont. He didn't say more than that, though, so we're all kinda in the dark.”

“Well, no use staying up here longer than we have to,” Odile sighed after a beat, standing up from the edge of the bed. “We’ve got some breakfast to make, don’t we, Boniface?”

Bonnie grinned at her with wide eyes. “Yeah!!!” They immediately darted off towards the stairs but stopped themself shortly before they went out of view. “Come and hang out with us when we’re done, Frin!”

Odile quickly followed behind them, and Mirabelle lingered beside you for just a little longer, holding your hand gently. “I’m glad you’re doing better, Siffrin.”

She got up and gave you one more sweet smile. “I’m going to join the others downstairs. Remember, if you have any more big feelings, please don’t hesitate to talk about ‘em, feelings buddy!”

You made a crinkled smile back at her. “Thanks, feelings buddy.”

As soon as Mirabelle headed down to the kitchen downstairs, you heard the door creak open again. Everyone clamored at the visitor - it sounded like they were being nosy and asking what they had.

A deep, hushed voice told them to back off. You could immediately recognize that voice. 

Isabeau came back!

And as he was telling everyone else off, he mentioned your name. You started to get anxious.

Isabeau climbed up the stairs and flinched when he saw you upright on the edge of your bed. “Uh, hey, Siffarooni!” he greeted. “How’re you doing? Did you get a good sleep?”

You nodded, summoning a yawn and rubbing your eye. “What was everyone talking about just now? You have something for me?”

“Y-yeah! I, uh…” He shuffled his hands behind his back. “Well… y’know what, no.” His brow furrowed seriously. “What you said the other day… you were right. I don’t want to be a coward anymore. So… I’m just gonna give it to you.” 

He extended his hands and showed you… a small gift box. It was wrapped with a cute silk ribbon. 

You carefully untied it and opened the box to find… some lightless pearl earrings and a chain necklace. 

You looked up at Isabeau curiously, and found him blushing hard and squirming in place. 

“What are these for?”

“Well, I noticed that you didn’t wear earrings like the rest of us do, so um… A-and the necklace was for if you didn’t like the idea of wearing earrings! I knew a few people who moved to Vaugarde and pierced their ears later in life, and they said that it hurt a bit, s-so I just wanted to give you an alternative, in case your ears were too sensitive!”

You blinked. You knew the earrings were important to Vaugardian culture, but coming from him after confessing… 

“Did you get these from the jeweler here in Dormont?”

“Yeah!” Isabeau beamed as he spoke. “She and her wife were so happy to be back together, and she gave these to me on discount!” He paused and got shy again. “Wh-what do you think? Do you like them?”

You smiled. Of course you liked them. They were gifts from Isabeau. 

Although… “While I'm not too certain if I'm comfortable with the earrings… I really like the necklace. Thank you, Isa.”

Isabeau smiled wide, his eyes bright. “You’re welcome, Sif. I just thought it would be, like, a nice souvenir from the town! So you can remember it once we go travelling elsewhere.”

You’re pretty certain that wasn’t the only reason he gifted you these things, but you thought that it would be nice to have something personal to remember Dormont by. Something outside of your timeloop journey.

“COME ON DOWN HERE, IT’S TIME FOR BREAKFAST!!!” 

Bonnie’s loud shrill voice echoed throughout the Clocktower. 

The smell of freshly cooked eggs and toasted bread along with the buttery pastries already made you aware of the oncoming morning feast you were awaiting.

Isabeau excitedly headed towards the stairwell. “Come and join us when you’re ready, Sif!”

As he descended, you looked down at the jewelry he got you. Even at a discount, it probably cost quite a bit more than you’d ever be able to pay him back.

No. It’s a gift for you. You don’t have to pay him back. Just accept it.

The chain necklace was a little bit weighty, but the links were still thin and intricate. You slipped it over your head and let it rest on you. It was quite comfortable, and it would make a fun sound as you played with it between your fingers.

Not exactly as fun as a thing that goes “ding-ding” when you walk, but… close enough.

You changed out of your pajamas and into your trusty cloak. You decided to show off the chain necklace outside of the collar, too. You slipped the gift box with the earrings into your pockets. Maybe one day you’ll find something to do with them.

But, for now, it was time for a big breakfast with your family.

[sasster]

Blow Out

Can you believe no one asked who his doctor is?

[Here’s the doc!]

--

Trollkind is remarkably advanced across a variety of fields, but all that galaxy-spanning innovative thinking must have stopped just outside the doors of every medical waiting room. The one the purple blood sits in is no different than any other one on or off of Alternia.

The fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling buzz in time with a bare gray wall that seems to pulse with the heart rate of a patient circling the drain. If not for a television that droned on some news channel rattling off its heavy dose of fleet propaganda, muffled by distance, and the sheer veil that covered his face, it would have all been entirely too much for Retcon to handle. It is all quite the scene for the waiting room’s three denizens; The one receptionist and the two worse for wear psions awaiting their teal blooded savior to deliver them from their respective agonies.

In the furthest possible seat from the other two, Retcon fidgets idly with a loose string that juts out from the uncomfortably firm chair he occupies. He works hard to focus on the diluted voice that comes from the television, but can’t seem to make the information fit into his head in a way that even pretends to make sense. To say nothing of the tinnitus like ringing that has plagued his ears for the last handful of days.

In some attempt to prevent feeding into his migrane, which interestingly throbs at the same pace that the lights and wall move, he delegates his attention to the loose thread that he twirls around his index and middle digits. He allows this to be his tether to the breathing waiting room.

Across the room, suddenly louder than the droning of the news channel, the receptionist belts out an unintelligible string of words. Through the filter the ringing in his ears has become, it sounds more like someone in the middle of drowning calling out for help.

Retcon’s attention stays on the stray string. He coils it around his fingers tight enough that their tips begin to pale from the lack of blood flow.

The receptionist speaks again, an even louder version of her best impression of a fish out of water, but an anchor on the TV says something about a rebel syndicate taken down a few days ago and issues a warning to anyone that has ever rubbed elbows with them.

The lights buzz louder.

A door opens.

A conversation joins the choir of noise that slams into him like a truck, about five hundred miles away, at the receptionist’s desk.

Now someone somewhere in the room sighs.

Not being paid enough for this, the woman then says something that sounds suspiciously like someone shouting “Webcam,” from the bottom of a well.

He winces at the sound and focuses instead on the light gray the tips of his fingers have become.

Miraculously, a familiar voice strikes through the white noise that the world has become.

“Ten forty-nine?”

Within a second of his identification numbers hitting his ears, Retcon’s attention snaps up to find the source. Partially obscured by the sheer of the veil, he can just make out the shape of the doctor, staring directly in his direction with a smile on his face.

“There he is, come on back with me.”

He stands.

Somewhere between ten seconds and three hours pass in how long it takes him to traverse the twenty-five feet that separate him from the doctor.

Alaska waits patiently; his unwavering smile makes it impossible to tell how long that wait actually is. In the meantime, he does turn his attention to the news broadcast very briefly before giving a thoughtful hum and switching the channel to something a little easier on the brain.

Soft instrumentals fill the waiting area, quickly alleviating some of the pressure building up behind Retcon’s eyes.

When he does get to the doctor, a hand claps gently over his shoulder and leads him the rest of the way to the examination room and onto a table.

The doctor takes his own seat on a very lively rolling stool that he scoots over to the counter his bag is on and starts to dig into it for his equipment. “Talk to me, Retcon,” he says from within the depths of the bag.

“It’s too loud in here.” The psion manages, indicating the harshness of the much brighter light in this room than the previous one.

“I can’t exactly work in the dark here,” he replies, wheeling back over to him to hand off a pair of light filtering glasses. “Did you lose the last pair?”

Retcon nods and lifts his veil just long enough to put the glasses on and drops it again.

“Is that better?”

“It’s better.”

“So, I take it you overdid it again?” The question is more like a statement of fact delivered with a soft chuckle.

He does not wait for a response as he starts to set his instruments in a prep tray next to him. Odds and ends Retcon wouldn’t be able to name in his right mind, let alone his current condition, clang into the metal tray despite the doctor’s best efforts to lay them in gently.

Retcon winces.

“I think I broke it again.”

“You think?”

“I definitely broke it again.”

Alaska nods, his demeanor does not shift. He takes a second to inspect the blade of a tool that Retcon does not know the name of before turning to fully face him again. “Do you remember what I told you that your limit is?”

“Twenty, twenty-five. Depending. I could get away with thirty if I don’t do them all at once.” He recites what must have been his mantra for the last couple hundred sweeps as easy as breathing air. “More if I spread it throughout a week.”

“Right. How many did you do this time?”

“Fifty.”

“Fif--” The doctor swipes a hand over his own forehead, the motion largely conceals it if his expression shifts on any perceptible level. “Fifty? All at once?”

He nods.

“You definitely broke it.” Alaska echoes his earlier sentiment.

Retcon swings his legs idly and watches the floor pulse toward and away from his feet, choosing the nausea that comes along with it over tuning in to the lecture he is about to receive.

The chiding will no doubt be a gentle one, but when you’ve been someone’s patient for long enough, after the first half century, the lectures start to sound the same. They always seem to sound to the tune of: You’ll fry your brain. The device does not have the memory for that. We really need you to stick to these restrictions. Are you listening?

Are you listening?

Are you listening?

Retcon is brought back by the doctor snapping his fingers just within his field of view.

“Ten forty-nine, can you hear me? Remind them of your limits next time.”

“Can’t you just make it stronger? That’s what they want.”

Alaska’s gaze turns into a sympathetic one.

“We’d both like it if I could just slap a fifty petabyte block of memory in your head, but the technology’s not there yet Retcon,” he starts, gentle hands moving to assist him in laying back. “Frying your brain every couple of perigees doesn’t look good on applications for funding towards it, either.”

The doctor wheels his chair over to the usual blindspot, and quips something obligatory to Retcon before pushing a needle into the soft spot behind his earlobe. Retcon hardly reacts as the sharp pain starts and then subsides, his head flooding with a numbing agent he must have heard the name of some sweeps ago.

“I need you to help me help you, alright? Now, hold still.”

[deus-ex-mona]

monthly reminder that it’s ✨ok✨ to not have friends~~~~

[rivilu]

Haven't had the chance to play actual dnd in real life, but In this run I get the sense that bg3 perfectly captures the "party progresses in a weird sideways way that bypasses tons of the dm's prepared lore, so the dm takes revenge by dropping a near impossible encounter on them" vibe I hear so much about

[express-archives]

HELP i just checked what ambrosia means and—

APHE YOU BASTARD WHEN I GET YOU /silly

wdym? i have no idea what you're on about, silly. there is nothing bastardly about me. i am wonderful and amazing and my intentions are always good! i have no idea what you mean. 🤭

[stonerzelda]

ah fuq i did not factor in canadian prices for that. Special edition arzette collection uhm. So much for the idea of quitting my job soon to look for others again lol

[waterfallofspace]

Finished T/MA

Spoilers for the Finale and what comes before under cut~ (as well as swearing, and rantings of a crazy person <3)

I am :D Never gonna be :D The same :D Uh so first things first, that was amazing. That podcast is amazing and I will be relistening to it.

Second things second: I'm so attached to so many of the characters oh no- oH NO-

And uh, third things third: WHAT THE FUCKING HECK??!?!??!! WHAT???? NO??? YOU CANT END IT LIKE THAT NO WHAT NO-

I will be reading a million hundred thousand posts about it now, both snz and non snz, because hECKING HECK that was amazing. I don't quite know what to put here bc I've just finished it and my mind is gone but quick summary of my thoughts incase anyone's curious:

JonMartin both gives me life and sucks it RAPIDLY away. I love them. I'm a sucker for a tragic love story and my god- ahhgnslkdanfgoil

Elias. I don't approve of Jonah, or heck, of Elias himself, but.... I can't lie... god I love that man... HIS VOICE OKAY- his mannerisms?? he's evil but he's CHARMING and- yeahhhh I fall for villains okay? Sue me <3

The whole world itself is SO insanely well designed. I loved listening to it and figuring out how all the pieces fit along with Jon and the others.

TIM!!! TIM MY BELOVED!!! I MISS HIM!!!

Daisy and Basira. Melanie and Georgie. I just loved the female representation in this, they were so badass truly.

THE LGBTQIA+ REPRESENTATION TOO!!! All the canon couples, not to mention the fact that they just? had characters be gay? without making a 'thing' outta it? 100/10 Um anyways this is a long post full of barely sensible nonsense, if anyone wants to talk about TMA please feel free to reach out because I will be dying over it for several days <3

Thank you for listening to the ramblings of an emotionally broken person, thank you to @onetrickponi for getting me INTO THIS!!! I had no idea what I was getting into and you know what? You did not lie, it broke me in every way there is and I could not be happier for it. <33

(And not that I think anyone significantly cares, but yes. I will be writing some absolute garbage for these beloveds. I don't know when, but it WILL be happening because I am Feeling Things and my boy Elias could use some wrecking <3)

[thebleedingeffect]

REMINDER FOR FUTURE ME, write the introduction for Sky's capture and the destruction of skyloft please and thank you

[helielune]

[thatrandomuseriguess]

man, dont yall hate it when you stay up until 4 am because why the fuck not and you commonly do this and SOMEBODY SEND HELP I CANT SLEEP AAAAAAAA-

[augustameretrix]

rise with me from the lol lore about the sun and moon (now divorced?) gays is so up my alley it’s almost scary.... not just the gay stuff but mostly the rest... the heated debates that get you in trouble, the scrupulous research, the doubts and the fear that they bring, the constant, passionate, relentless, meaningful reflection about but most importantly with what your ancestors have left written because they wrote it for you in a way. All of this, shared with another who may not agree but who gets it. Diana is happy to get to debate Leona in class, my god, what a nice detail that feels so true.

[akanemnon]

AKANE AKANE AKANE

Soooo uhhhh (thank you for your attention over my fanarts) but uhhhhhhh FRISK DOESN'T LOOK VERY POSSESED. THEY LOOK SORRY AND SAD I WANNA GIVE THEM THIS TO FEEL OKAY, JUDT LOOK AT THEM.

Now Frisk, my dearie, have this.

I've turned Caraw W. W. into a merchandiseble plushie.

(Frisk, if Kris wants that plushie too, share pls, or tell me so I make another :3 )

Oh no. The Player(s) left as soon as Frisk entered the world of Deltarune. Both Frisk and Kris have been acting on their own since the start of the story. They just didn't notice it until page 26.

Okay, Kris noticed it. Frisk didn't know anything about a Player or any possession. They assumed EVERYTHING they did in the underground was them. So in a way they and the Player were on the same page for ALL of it (but more on that later)

So yeah, possession wouldn't be very satisfying of a plot point here.

Anyways, here's this. Sorry if I messed up your character's colors. I only had one reference to go off of

[purpdrawsthings]

HIS REFERENCE SHEET IS REAL CHAT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥

Yippee less goooooo, you can now know how the hell this man's outfit finally works now.

You guys can actually make him, with ✨COLORS✨

Honestly, making colors that would match him was really hard. It took me about a week to actually figure it all out just because of how hard it is and how I wanted it to be close to a star aesthetic.

Buttttt I got it all sorted out and to be honest, the result isn't too bad if I do say so myself.

After finishing the colors, it went all easy thankfully, I didn't really have to think that much about his Mario recolor form.

FUN FACT : He came right after the Revelations arc ended =3333333

Relationship chart because yes

Some of the characters uhhh text things are kinda meh cuz my brain ain't braining rn.

Sadge =[

But heyyyyy, at least y'all can now know his relationships yippee =DDDDDDDD

ALSO DO NOT MISTAKE HIS PINK ARROWS AS AFFECTION HE JUST ADMIRES THEM

But I don't really mind if you actually-

Uhhhhhhh deez nutz he can be shipped with anyone, as long as it's not someone he hates, like a certain tv someone =3

So now that that's done.... LET'S HAVE AT IT SOME FUN FACTS!!!!!

He was actually meant to be a silly villain, something like Storms oc, SMG8 =3 buttttt I saved that for later and changed him into a different character.

That human form you're looking at right now ain't even his true form, his true form is that weird star thing!!! Crazyyyy

Speaking about his star form, while in that form, he only speaks in speech bubbles, and is inaudible.

He was meant to be a ✨blondie✨ but after a test I found out it wasn't really the best color so why not use that uh.... Random ass hair color =D

He's got powers to fend off viruses ofc, but I'll do that for a later post, maybe I'll link it from here if I post it =]

Anddddd that's about all =DDDD

I'll probably think of more and probably update this post behind yalls backs lmao

But it'll probably not happen soon.

Anyways, you can now draw him, AND ask question for this man through my ask box, yippeeeeeee =DDDDDDDD

And uhh.... Yeah. Yeetus!!! =3

HAH! YOU REALLY THOUGHT THAT WAS THE END?

Naive people /silly

I actually just wanted to add some special thanks for some people that deserve to be here for a sec =3

@strange0-0storm

The first insp for this man!!! He helped me form GSP the most. I remember that one post he made and I think it was a question thing. I think the question was how did he make 8 or something. Idk I don't remember it much.

But in that post, he stated that he made 8 by making an opposite or something, and that sparked an idea for some reason lmao.

You can see some opposite accessories from him that are opposites of both 4 n' 3. Like the weird ahhhh shaped hat, him having glasses, him actually wearing a suit or something, and him having long, beautiful hair ✨

I uh.... Explained that terribly did I? AHSOSHSOSHISHEISHS THIS IS WHY I DON'T EXPLAIN STUFF RAHHHHHHH

Oopsies I'll get back to the thing =3

Anyways, yeah, as you can see, 8 was a big inspiration for this man, even sparking the idea of making him the same silly lil villain like 8 =3

I thank Storm so much for the huge insp, really helped make him!!!!!

@tiredsmashbros

This man was literally inspired by TSB... GUHH... This man is everywhere I swear....

BUT SERIOUSLY THO TSB WAS ANOTHER HUGE INSPIRATION BESIDES 8!!!!

TSB helped me arrange some of the colors, especially taking some inspiration from the orange and yellow =3

Funny thing but I sometimes accidentally draw GSP with a propeller like TSB on his head because I sometimes mistake him with TSB kshsisuwosossh

The name 'GSP' was also inspired by TSB! Seeing as the name meant TiredSmashBros, I thought if using PurpDrawsThings but when I realized that didn't fit, I just made up random shit lmaooooo

Sooooo yeah! Thank you Tomm for TSB helping me on how to arrange colors and also making his name =3

@its-a-me-mango

Not really seen here but when I said he was supposed to be a blondie and it didn't fit, I suddenly thought of Mango's hair 😭

I was like "Am I really sure I wanna use that"

Then I tested out different hues... Saturations... Andddddd nothing worked 💀 so I was like- "y'know what? Fuck it. I'mma just do it."

Sooooo uh... Yeah! Thank you Mango for helping me make his hair and relationship chart idea lmao 😭😭

Anddddd that's how his hair was born ❤

Also another huge thanks for Mango is insp for the relationship chart! I remember Mango's relationship chart having some text so I decided to do that =]

And that's about all!!!

Like actually fr this time.

These three were just huge inspirations on making him, and I can't thank them enough 😭

THANK YOU 3!!!! LOVE Y'ALL!!!!!

anyways, I'mma go and rest my fingers because I feel like they're actually breaking /silly

YEETUS MY BEANS!!!

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[writers-reach]

If you do aged up chatacters (or in this case P4AU) is it alright to request some wedding hc's for Akihiko? For some context they were both in SEES or something like that (I haven't played the Arena games myself, so up to you).

Just wanna add, love the stuff you write so far! It's really good :3

persona 3: wedding headcanons (akihiko sanada)

notes: persona 3 spoilers, gn!reader (i tried my best but some of it might be leaning towards a more fem reader), post-p4au sees, fluff

he strikes me as the kinda guy to either overthink or underthink everything. no even amount of care put into the wedding.

like... he's either obsessing over the most useless of details or is just "yeah babe i'd be happy with whatever :) as long as you're there :)"

ofc regardless of what you two decide on doing, he's gonna pull his weight! he's no slacker.

definitely invites junpei, mitsuru, and ken as his groomsmates (mitsuru is his best woman, just b/c they spent so much time together. if it's in the timeline where shinji is alive, he'd take that place but point stands. senior squad fr)

speaking of, because of how important sees is to the two of you, all of them are groomsmates or men/maids of honour for the two of you, somewhat evenly split

koromaru and/or his puppies as the ring bearer i don't make the RULES!!!!!!!!

tries not to cry during his vows. didn't cry during the rehearsal. cries during the ceremony, fumbles over his words, tries to look manly but fails and embraces the tears.

during the kiss he'd definitely grasp your cheeks in the most tender kiss you've felt in your life. leans you back slightly and pulls away just enough to see your eyes brimming with happiness.

the ceremony is sweet and wonderful, but the reception is where your real aki shines

sheds the nervousness that comes with being the main event in front of dozens of people but still isn't a huge fan of parties

definitely loosens up once there's some alcohol involved but doesn't overindulge. he wants to remember this night :)

everyone in sees gets a turn at a speech, some doing them together!! (junpei and yukari put aside their slight differences and annoyances with one another to do a cute and funny speech). they all talk about how they knew you two were destined from the start, even if life was super rough.

even now, with akihiko as a boxer and shadow operative, he's still that same schoolboy who had trouble talking to his crush. it's adorable.

uhhhhhhh i've got a few loose joke headcanons too:

aigis catches the bouquet by doing a rocket-powered double jump. much to junpei's dismay (he wanted it :( )

mitsuru getting hammered at the reception

fuuka tries her best to hold it together at the ceremony but she's the first to start sobbing

yukari joking that akihiko FINALLY wears something normal (his suit) and not that ugly ass hoodie cape

a/n: sorry about the wait! hope you like it <3