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Date a boy who shines like the sun, who has golden hair and sky-coloured eyes

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uhhhhhh

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“As it is, you lie mangled here, and my heart rejects all thought of food. Not that I lack it. I lack you.” - Achilles mourning Patroclus •Book 19•The Iliad•

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spontaneously kisses her nose.

           He sees when she is spiraling.  When the thoughts are loud and buzzing in her skull, a barrage more unforgiving, even, than it always is.  He sees the way she rubs at her wrists through the long sleeves she wears, old scars brightening to fresh and irritated red; he sees the way she stares too long at windows on the third floor, the fourth, the fifth.  She wonders if he is skilled in the art of reading others or if she is truly obvious and no one, before, ever bothered to look.

                             He sees when she is spiraling, and most times he can guess correctly whether she needs to sob and scream and hold onto him so tightly that her knuckles whiten ( the only emotional extreme she ever indulges in; the only time she is ever human ) — or if the thoughts merely need to be disrupted.  If she can drag herself out of inky self - hate rising around her if only the flooding can be paused momentarily.  He guesses correctly here and the press of his lips to her nose is enough to knock her out of her thoughts and out of herself and back into the reality where he loves her.  ( she doesn’t believe him.  not really.  but she isn’t so afraid. )

         She’s shocked; of course she is.  She’s blushing profusely and she can’t look at him and she’s trying to remember if anyone has ever kissed her nose before and she can’t.  And maybe she is terrified because she has never learned to be anything else, but she does not snap or pull away or hurt him the way she might have once, to protect herself, to keep from being weak.

               She’s shocked and she’s afraid but she’s grateful, too.  Because she loves him.  Because for a brief moment the barrage of STUPID WORTHLESS UNLOVABLE stops and she can breathe and she doesn’t want to die.  

                                                         “—— Dumbass.”

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tbh I’m not okay either

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a haiku a day (118/365)

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Oh, when your heart releases,  You won’t fall to pieces You’ll let those old diseases lie Oh, and your heart releases,  You won’t fall to pieces And your breath comes crashing in Like perfect porcelain

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my hero Noct.

art by tintarosug.

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BDSM

b= bein nice

d= de good times you have with the ones you love

s= seeing your family and friends

m= making sure your future is bright

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ascendantly.

   ❛ unappetizing? compared to what? these guys eat bugs all day. ❜ and there’s the look he’s been holding out on, amused and clever and canny, skewed sidelong because prompto is propped up against him with a smile as infectious as it is worth testing. noctis shrugs coyly against the borrowed weight and minds the stillness of the water again. ❛ nah, there’s gotta be some big nasty out there willing to take a bite out of you. something without eyes. ❜

    the push at his back coupled with the soft threat of an unexpected dunk snags a laugh from him, lure skipping with the motion, as unenticing as ever. 

   ❛ yeah? ❜ he reels half a rotation and hopes they maybe have a shot at convincing ignis to take them into town for dinner if this venture doesn’t pan out. might be a hard sell if they return to camp soaked, but noctis appreciates a challenge. ( — case in point, the last few hours. ) ❛ wouldn’t try it. least i can warp out. you’d have to paddle. ❜

         Every TAUNT earns a flash of melodrama; Prompto is not shy about his forceful shoves, nor his overplayed gasps of feigned offense. Noctis is pushing his luck now, sitting on varied threats of water-based punishment ( ALL HOLLOW--- he’s a pushover to his friend’s scathing wit ). Still, he prefers this verbal roasting to a battlefield burn, and the prince’s laughter is the only healing he needs.

         “ I know you’d have NO IDEA, but, ” he gives something of condescending sniff, and plucks the baseball cap from his friend’s unkempt hair. Prompto, of course, hasn’t the HEAD for hats ( claims it’s his hair, but really he simply hates the way they look ), but he is quick to don it, head cocked and visor twisted sideways. “ you don’t need eyes to experience my manly charm. ”

         Talk is CHEAP, though, and as the line bobs ( consistently slack ) above water, Prompto finds himself ever-restless ‘gainst Noctis’s honed stillness. He fidgets to counteract.

         “ Warpin’s the COWARD’S way out, ” he huffs, fiercely scraping his heel over the water’s surface for effect. “ don’t y’think you’d have better luck tryin’a catch a fish with your hands, anyway? We’ve been sittin’ here for hours, dude. ”

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favorite ships?

*bends over seductively to pick up my secrets* || accepting

the big kahuna..........

i like 2 keep my ship biases under wraps, cos i don’t want them 2 color anyone’s thoughts or opinions, and cos rp is so versatile that in-game chemistry i see can be rendered completely moot with a divergent portrayal. THAT’S NOT A BAD THING--- sometimes shit just stays platonic.

BUT, i’ll let u in on my lil secret. i’m a filthy little multishipper, and both promptis & promnis own my ass. promluna ( lov that rarepair life ) follows closely behind, and promcindy��follows suit, tho i can be made to ship almost anything with time & motive. also, it goes without saying that i would Die for my lovely OC partners @daemonmade & @isolatetype !!! ❤❤❤

as a PS, though i may enjoy a ship with your character, i place CHEMISTRY above all; i don’t write with people solely with a ship in mind, nor do i indulge people that do. 💪✌

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Is there anything in particular you're hoping that the Prompto DLC will reveal?

*bends over seductively to pick up my secrets* || accepting

actually, i have VERY high hopes for episode prompto!!! tho that in itself is kind of daunting, cos i’ve been so disappointed with squenix so far, but........... i’m so so so so SO stoked to see prompto’s pov from the time he’s pushed off the train to when the boys find him in gralea. there’s so much that went on that we don’t know about; i need to know what exactly happened, how he & ardyn interacted, how DISTRESSED prompto was while in captivity. i wanna see more of prompto with a cracked mask, i wanna see his insecurities being exploited, and i wanna know the details of his frustratingly vague backstory. THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME, and so much of it was completely glossed over in-game. if they don’t do a good job with episode prompto i’ll personally take a huge runny shit all over tabata’s pillow.

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what's the hardest part about writing prompto? what's the most enjoyable?

*bends over seductively to pick up my secrets* || accepting

honestly? there really isn’t a whole lot i find difficult about playing prompto. it’s astounding, actually, because for me that’s SUPER rare. whenever i pick up a new character i always spend weeks to months establishing my voice, refining my style, and compromising my mindset to better fit the character, but prompto’s different! it’s been pretty easy to write him from the beginning, and despite some hardships i’ve faced, i still haven’t lost the will to write for him. if i had to pick, though, and this is more general than just writing prompto, it’s putting myself out there in order to establish new threads & make friends. i’ve always had trouble with that.

as for most enjoyable--- EVERYTHING, honestly. prompto is a huge comfort character for me, and when i sit down to write for him everything kind of just flows, which lets me sort of tune out the world around me and really box myself in The Zone™. it’s pretty great.

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expiricies.

@codeckt

           “Ah —— it’s okay.  I just — wasn’t looking where I was going.”  FULL UP ON DISTRACTION it seems, girl in shambles as she wanders.  She’d have fallen on her face had this kind stranger not CAUGHT HER arm; she struggles to force life back into her eyes, lest she look false and ungrateful.  Bruised hands tangle before her chest.  “Thank you — for catching me.”

         It is some stretch of a MIRACLE, he thinks, that his twitter feed had gone silent, prompting him to glance back to reality just as a fellow pedestrian lost her ( already shaky ) footing. It is ANOTHER miracle that he maintained the dexterity to clasp a hand ‘round her stick-thin arm, and spare them both from a nasty backwards tumble. There is the typical polite exchange of I’m sorrys and Are you okays--- but Prompto is unconvinced. Crystal eyes trace the shadow of her cheeks, the darkness ‘round her eyes, and the purple-yellow tint of her skin. Sympathetic lips part, and he is hesitant to release her.

         “ Yeah, sure, no problem--- ”there is a pause in which his gaze shifts from a passing glance to a concerned stare. “ ---uh, I don’t wanna get all up in your business but... you don’t look so good. You sure you’re okay? ”