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@victuist-blog
@lockethart
[ TEXT: Literal babe: ] u know how u said the clouds are rly pretty out here? [ TEXT: Literal babe: ] They’re not as pretty as u :/ [ TEXT: Literal babe: ] :************************ [ TEXT: Literal babe: ] but if u want i’ll take u to see them on a rly cold day so u have to hold my hand. okay?
[ TEXT ]: hey babe u know I ate the last taco and i thought noctis was going to backhand me but he didn't and i just wanted u to know i almost died last night love u
@victuist
With reassurance offered through a gentle smile, words of sweet encouragement and a kiss for luck, she bid him farewell. Mere days have passed since his departure, and still, she silently longs for the male’s company— Selfish desires she deems better left unexpressed, lest it deter him from his ambitions.
Faith poured into those few held in high regard– A particular three - she’s no doubt - he’d trek to the ends of the earth for. Together, those four form quite the formidable team, their bonds forged upon fated meetings– Meaningful friendships that would indubitably withstand life’s hardships. Yes. Surely his brothers will do right by him in her stead, and that alone instills great comfort. So when time together is cut short at the hands of responsibility, Tifa can rest assured believing Prompto to be in the presence of a reliable sort, left in capable hands, qualified to keep the easily distracted from dangerously veering.
He’ll find a way home from grand adventure, eventually— And here she’ll wait, patient as ever, for even in distance, her heart belongs to no other.
–
Greeted by the usual torrent of updates, a pang of dread washes over when eyes selectively pick at specifics. Claim to a near-death experience understandably inspires feelings of disquiet, but an expression riddled with concern promptly drains from fair features entirely– And instead, the SIGH of relief.
–
[ text to: Prompto ]
[ 18:43pm ]
don’t scare me like that prompto! honestly you two…
he can’t have been all that mad but maybe you should ask before you eat next time
[ 19:07pm ]
sorry the bar got busy. i have to go but i’ll call you later if that’s alright
i love you too. be careful for me ok?
[ 19:09pm ]
one last thing
[ 19:11pm ]
thanks so much for all the pictures! the sky is really beautiful out there isn’t it?
maybe i could take a day off when you get back from your trip and we can see it together
ataraxetta:
baby is so relatable
“Then at least promise me something!” She darts out an arm, index finger barely hooking his own in time. Though they were destined to part ways from the start, Tifa finds that it is no less painful knowing. But there's no holding onto him forever— Nor will she hold him /back/ from the fulfilment of a promise made to others. Prompto needs his friends -and whether he chooses to believe it or not- his friends need him... She can see that. “Promise that you’ll come back— Some day.” For me... [CRIES]
❝ SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE doubtin’ me! ❞ Which, in fact, doesn’t come as a surprise. He doesn’t have the greatest of track records with promises. He’s FUFFILLED said promises, but not in a speedily or efficient matter. This promise, would be no different— If you factor in that there’s simply no timeline of his travels. They had to play it by ear, and he knows that’s NOT the answer either of them wanted, but it was the only one they’d get.
HE’S TRYING REALLY hard to show that he’s NOT upset about leaving. He’d known it for a long time, that somewhere in the time he’d begun training with his ‘ Brothers, ’ he’d have to depart from home. Before, he never minded the thought. It actually excited him. OH THE PLACES HE COULD GO. Cut off from the world, not having to worry about loved ones back home, because they’d be with him. But now? He’s fallen in LOVE. How is he to depart from someone he’s connected with and given his A L L to? His heart is breaking within his chest, and he can’t breathe. But he hides it, for her. Because in truth, she’d do the most worrying. At least he knew where she was. But there’d be a constant question—– Where was HE? Was he okay? And only he’d know that.
HE’S GRINNING NOW, BUT in a quick second, he grabs the rest of her hand, pulling her CLOSE. His free hand gently pushes her head into his neck, so that he can rest his head atop hers. His lips are flatlined now, and he’s got tears in his eyes. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, and he breathes in her scent. Would this be the last time he’d get to hold her like this, or smell that scent that made him so calm? He doesn’t know. But he doesn’t want to believe a tragedy will bestow itself upon him while he’s out there. He needs to see her again. There was no other option.
❝ I’M GONNA TRY my best, okay? ❞ He can’t bring himself to promise. It wouldn’t be fair. ❝ Give me a bit of time.. Like… A year or somethin’.. ❞ But is that enough time? Probably not. ❝ Don’t wait for me for too long, if you start to think i’m not comin’ back.. Follow that gut feeling. ❞ That HURT to say, but he keeps himself together. His eyes shut, and he’s brushing her back as he’s still holding her within his grip.
❝ THANK YOU FOR supporting me. ❞ And reluctance meets him, as he’s being called away. He’s taken too long. He sighs. If he could freeze time, he would. He doesn’t want to part. Her hands are grasped within his as the hug is broken, and he brings them up to his chest, looking her in the eyes with a returned, weak smile. ❝ I’ll be okay. Don’t stress yourself out too much. ❞ But he knows she will. She’s seen him beaten up too many times.
AND THOUGH HE’S STRUGGLED many times to say these three words, he’s gotta do it now. Now or never. It’s the last thing she’s gotta hear from him. ❝ I….❞ He’s choking. ( Is that a tear falling from his eyes, too—? ) ❝ Love you. ❞
A KISS TO HER HANDS, and he lets them go. He’s only steps away from her, and his heart already ACHES. The feeling of her hands within his is already missed. This really sucks. And when he’s finally in the Regalia, he sulks. Mumbling a soft, weak sorry under his breath, all the while he stares at his hands.
[also ur hair looks like a chocobo's butt :I]
HE’S HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE. And normally, that’d put him in a MOOD. But, for her, he doesn’t mind. It actually sounds cute coming from her. And that, too, sounds rather ODD, but her voice only lifts his spirits. But don’t let that FOOL YOU, if it was anyone else he’d be rather ticked. But for now, he lets her give him weird nicknames.
A SMIRK TO HIS LIPS AND HE shrugs. He loops an arm around her and pulls her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. ❝ Yeah, it might. But you LOVE it, right? What would you do if I changed it up? You wouldn’t recognize me! ❞
︱▶ LOCKETHART.
Still a hand makes its way back to hers, grip firm and sure as it commences in a clumsy endeavour to wash away streaks of red. Thus chaos ensues– Soap everywhere, water sloshing about and threatening to overflow. And through it all they stand side by side, bare shoulders brushing on occasion.
Fingers inadvertently curl in cooperation, only to lace between his own. “You–” !! A predicament she so desperately attempts to rectify, nimble digits quick to splay out of reach. “Y-you should really--” She intends to meet his gaze squarely, insist he ought to see to the soup they’ve long left stewing without supervision. She means to correct and remind him of her capabilities! And while the barmaid manages a cursory glance, opportunity is fleeting when both are swept back into casual conversation.
The male’s persistence earns him but a stifled HUFF as hands struggle to adjust within the security of another’s. It’s a gesture of goodwill she’s unaccustomed to– From most men. “The stubborn type, I see.” Says she of similar nature, swiftly denying the gunslinger’s vision of the way brows twist in an oddly forgiving display of vexation. But… Far be it from her to continuously thwart his gallant deeds– As much as it flusters the woman to no end.
⎡❝ You’re too pretty and.. nice t’ have a lot of blood on your hands, anyway. Even if it’s an idiot’s. ❞ ⎦
“Wh-… What was that?” Tifa looks to him not for clarity - he’s made himself perfectly clear - but rather it’s rhetorical, words for the sake of them. “I’m– You think I’m…” Pretty. Tone genuine and backed by a smile so equally CHARMING, she can’t quite convince herself to think it false.
Is he… Always like this?
“All done.” She decidedly withdraws, throat clearing in the process. Drenched palms then wave away droplets of water, eyes already wandering in search of the nearest cloth. “The food won’t cook itself. And I’m sure your friends must be getting hungry by now. Let’s…”
“Let’s not keep them waiting…!”
HE IS NOT OKAY WITH her evasion to her own question. He’s bothered. Suddenly, he notices she is not okay. ❝ Forget them.. Just for another couple of minutes. ❞ Still gentle, still quiet. Such a contrast to his earlier behavior. He grabs a cloth for her, and places it in her hand, but he doesn’t let go----- Not of her. Surely, at this point he knows his friends were BOUND to show up and ask what was taking so long at any minute, but that didn’t matter. What mattered, is that he figured out what it was that made her so upset. Was it that he called her PRETTY? Did she not believe that?
❝ I said you’re pretty, Tifa. ❞ Straightforward. Blunt. He says it with more confidence this time. Squeezing her hand tightly. Reassurance. ❝ You’re not even just pretty, Tifa! You’re beautiful. ❞ If this were any other situation, he’d be blushing by now. But he needs to say it without stuttering, without getting nervous. He needs to sound SINCERE. ❝ Like you’ve just got this.. Really great personality.. I haven’t known you that long and I know that, but-- ❞ He stops, and he notices she’s not looking at him, and if he’s going to be sincere, she needs to look at him.
SO HIS HAND LETS GO OF HERS, again, and in turn gently brushes her cheek, his fingers moving so slowly to her chin to lift it up. He’s smiling, so big. ( Even though, on the inside he’s freaking out---- His exterior is calm! ) ❝ But I want you to know that’s what I think! And you should really believe me! I don’t say stuff like this.. Ever. ❞
IT’S TRUE. THE POOR guy has been rejected a million times. He just makes a FOOL of himself in front of girls. But Tifa, she was different. ❝ I don’t want makin’ soup with you to be the last thing I do.. So to make up for everything.. Let me take you on a date. ❞ And he takes away his fingers from her chin, and walks to the soup, that seemed to be just fine. ❝ I want other people to see how pretty you are, too! Not just Noct n’ the rest of them. You n’ your personality.. It deserves to be shown off! ❞ He’s being so genuine, it’s a shock to himself. He’s scared it’s scaring her.
♥ ♥ ♥
gangguro replied to your post.
WHAT DID I WALK INTO ON MY DASH... IM CRYING
U WALKED IN ON MY HEART DYING
He may shy from a tender gaze, but she’s not inclined to give in so easily. All efforts made for him are never a waste- Never. But he has his doubts, as does she… They can face them together though, can’t they? Isn’t that what families do— What couples fight through? Fingertips drag along his jawline, ghosting over the curve of his face, until a palm gently settles there. “Won’t you… Look at me?” [*BARFS* okay but your idea of prompto self-doubting tho. GOODBYE MY HEART.]
HE HEARS HER, BUT HE cannot look at her. Simply because, he knows, this wonderful woman, he does not deserve. Not even an inch is moved once the soft, delicate hand is placed atop his cheek. It feels good, but he… He can’t allow himself to love it. He LOVES HER. He WANTS HER. But he’s not good enough FOR HER. And dammit, that pisses him OFF. His hands clench into fists——- Is he angry? Yes. But at himself. These times, she doesn’t deserve to see him during these times. The times where he wallows in his self doubt. SHE DOESN’T DESERVE TO WASTE HER TIME WITH HIM—!
❝ I’m sorry— ❞ He’s sorry he’s average. ❝ I’m a mess and you shouldn’t… You shouldn’t have t’deal with it. ❞
HE’S GOT TEARS WELLING UP in his eyes, and try as he might he can’t help looking up at her beautiful eyes, and her concerned look. Her sweet, sweet voice echos within his head and he… can’t. He can’t handle this feeling, and its only gotten worse since being with her. But she’s the only one who can make him feel better. ❝ Tifa…—- ❞
WEAK HER NAME FALLS FROM his lips, and they quiver. They quiver, and he shakes. He shakes and shakes and SHAKES, until fists are released, his hands wrap around her sides, and he pulls her CLOSE. ❝ I.. ❞ He hiccups. ❝ Don’t leave me. ❞ Head is buried within her shoulder, and he allows himself to cry.
victuist replied to your post ||
im hungry please feed me i havent eaten since an hour ago please mom
just eat out your girlfriend.
dude that’s so gross I dont support cannibalism wtf i love her I can’t eat parts of her she needs like... her fingers... do u mean like take her out to mcdonalds
ca su ally slAPS A NEW THEME ON MY BLOG it suits his personality better im proud ALSO I UPDATED MY RULES but tbh I just did so I could add that i’m officially single ship with my teefs now : ) ok time to go drown in more prompti brb :)))))
@victuist :D
Keep reading
︱▶ LOCKETHART.
“Gentleman-” His hand slips from hers only to return the hold. Eyes widen - by just a fraction - a rush of heat prickling her visage and spreading from ear to ear. The faintest shade of pink dusts over fair features - barely detectable, and probably for the best - leaving her in a transient state of bemusement. The man appears to have quickly developed a knack for that– For surprising the usually composed barmaid with bouts of boyish antics at every turn. It’s but her own fault, she must admit– Too caught up thinking to have noticed the crimson seep through the cloth and onto skin.
Hand redirected, she allows for it at first, lithe fingers twitching gently within his grasp. She’s plenty capable of summoning a reaction at this point- Yet there is delay.
–
Tifa’s brought herself to wriggle free from him, for no other reason than to quell embarrassment. The gesture is kind, without a doubt– And there’s nothing wrong with him- It’s not him at all, in fact. Just… Well, she– “Ah, I– I’ll take care of that !” A pinch of urgency clings to her voice as hands dip to soak beneath the tepid flow. “Thank you. But- I won’t have you getting your bandages wet. Don’t even think about it.”
Turning from him, Tifa leans further over the sink, hair spilling across bare shoulders as digits proceed to scrub away at one another. “So…” Silence.
And when it seems there’s nothing more to be said, no followup of any sort– She eventually parts with a, “Do you… Uhm–…Throw around knives a lot on all your dates?” A modest sense of humour, delivered free from malicious intent. It’s an honest claim to striking up conversation, in hopes of reclaiming a lost sense of normalcy. Of course she’s not being serious! As much as his previous actions have left her moderately curious.
HE’S SLIGHTLY DISAPPOINTED HE’D been told to do the opposite of what he wished. But, then again, when was he the type of guy to listen? Or do anything remotely smart in terms of his wellbeing? That’s right. Never. Ever. But, to be fairly HONEST, he’s... Given her enough grief. No need to put her through more. Besides, she’s blushing! But is it good or bad? He can’t tell. He just wants to take her on a date, and there’s yet to be a clear answer! He’s distressed. ❝ Y’know.. I only hurt THIS hand, I’ve still got the other one. Perfectly fine. ❞
HE’S WATCHING HER ATTEMPT to get all of his blood off, but he’s botherd by the fact that now, both of her hands were stained in red. He can’t help that guilt. What are people gonna think when they see THAT? And now, because he’s PROMPTO, he’s using his perfectly fine hand, and he reaches to grab hers again--- GENTLY, not to scare her. He smiles softly, not a smirk, a genuine little smile. ❝ Don’t argue with me, it doesn’t work. ❞ Honest. ❝ About the knives... Nah.. I’ve never thrown one in my life. The idea just came to me. Choppin’ onions was kinda boring! Had to entertain myself somehow. ❞
WITH ONE HAND HE FOUND IT quite difficult to help wash her hands, but he’s annoyingly persistent, so he gathers a BUNCH of soap within his hand and begins to massage her hands with it. He ponders, is this weird to her? Probably. But he wants to help. She’d done enough in the past hour than he’d done, so it was, in fact his turn. ❝ You weren’t doing a good job.. Look at that.. Your hands are covered. People are gonna think you killed somethin’.. ❞ His voice is soft, gentle, along with the grasp with her hands. ❝ You’re too pretty and.. nice t’ have a lot of blood on your hands, anyway. Even if it’s an idiot’s. ❞
@lockethart from THIS GEM.
BEFORE HE IS TO REUNITE his lips with hers, he pulls her closer. He’s not satisfied until he can feel her breathing against him. As close as they can get, he likes that. This way, he’s able to take in her sweet scent, his favorite scent EVER. His eyes are open, he’s watching her. Not in a creepy way. In a loving way. Did he forget to mention today that he’s MADLY in love with her?This woman, who he held so tightly against him, was his. HIS GIRLFRIEND. And he’s still so stoked about it, and at any moment of any day, he’s gonna show it. Like right now.
HE’S AMUSED BY HER REACTION, and he’s resisting the urge to kiss her again for the sake of looking at her. She’s drop dead beautiful. ❝ You’re really cute---- ❞ He couldn’t help it, she had to know, her little muffled and cut off words were absolutely adorable. He’s laughing so softly. His forehead is against hers now and he breathes in a really big breath before grinning once more. He’s not going to escalate this spontaneous gesture into much, but he’ll drag it on for as long as he wants.
LIPS TO LIPS ONCE again, and this time he’s not so gentle. His hand squeezes hers, because he’s still holding onto it, right? He’s not letting go. Ever. Only if it’s necessary. He’s clingy and he knows that. His one hand on her back, HOWEVER, travels up her back, and he plays with some strands of her super soft hair. His eyes are FINALLY closed again and he’s in paradise. Only seconds are allowed for a breath of air-------- but it’s enough to say a little phrases. ❝ Can’t get enough of ya’. ❞
tiiifa:
that’s my type of woman. (insp.)
He grabs her hand and pulls her super close to him. He's got this really stupid smirk and he winks! It's only seconds before he presses his lips to hers and wraps his arms around her for a sweet little embrace.
@victuist
Tifa’s spent ample amounts of time within his company. Certainly enough for her to surmise that something more lay beneath such a playful demeanour.
“Prom–” !!
Hand in hand, pull and tug– Their lips meet and the time for speaking passes. A sudden surge of heat, delicate shades of pink flourishing across her countenance in quick succession. It’s utterly frustrating how easily she slips into the hands of discomposure, but he’s got a flair for spontaneous outbursts of affection– It’s whenever the mood strikes and wherever, she’s come to learn. And on more occasions than she can count on fingers alone has it reduced the woman to a flustered heap.
But behind closed doors - free from prying eyes - there is no urge to pull away. It’s moments like these where Tifa cannot keep from relenting, cease hands from wandering and fingers from pinching.
She is the first to break the kiss, however– The first stare him in the face, wordlessly. She could say plenty, for there’s plenty to be said– Yet nothing. Not a peep out of her. And it’s not that the barmaid’s at all ruffled by his actions– No. “Mh…” A steady hand lifts, grazed knuckles sweeping blond strands aside.
Eyes flutter shut, nose crinkling in the process. Mere seconds required for her lips to seek out his once more in another heartfelt exchange, as simple as it is sweet.
︱▶ LOCKETHART.
Once permission is granted, hands tenderly envelop his, paper towel-covered digits seeking out and applying pressure to the wound.
Tifa’s much too focussed to notice him staring– Remains unaware of the way he studies her features. “Looks that way,” is her response, eyes never straying from the task at hand. It’s a deep cut, but not so deep it’d call for anything beyond the bounds of her capabilities. Good thing, too- With that level of heedlessness, the slip-up could have easily yielded more devastating results. And for that, he’d do well to thank his lucky stars for seeing him through, fingers intact.
⎡❝ Y’know.. This is kind of like a date. ❞⎦
Previously occupied hands cease movement, refusing to cooperate any further, despite how much she wills them to resume. She’s caught off guard by a daring proposition, and an undisturbed stillness permeates their surroundings, in turn. No more than a few awkward seconds pass by, before the girl finally musters the nerve to meet his watchful gaze. “A-… A date?” A striking countenance is suffused with bewilderment, blatant confusion surfacing through both expression and tone. What gave him that idea? Lips part– Yet words remain only on the verge of escape and nothing more.
Perhaps what intrigues most of all, is the assured grin he beams at her. The same smile that has made its rapid and bold return over and over again through the thick and thin– Through the bad, the good, the somewhat embarrassing… There’s seemingly no end to his optimism. Certainly a welcomed trait.
While there is plenty left to grasp, she cannot convince herself still to look upon the man with an ounce of suspicion. And so her face visibly softens in time. Her eyes shy away from his and drop back to their forgotten hands, fingers pinching together in a deliberate effort to busy herself.
Another prolonged hush follows. A date… Would that be so bad? Contrary to popular belief, Tifa’s not been on many of those– If at all. Never found the time, nor the right company for that matter. The plucky lady generally had no qualms about turning away uninvited advances - and it’s been done before… But he’s different, and in all honesty, as unexpected as it was- Prompto’s approach was… In a word, endearing.
“Maybe…” Soft-spoken thoughts formed into words.
“Maybe you could…”
THE SILENCE IS AWFUL. Is he sweating? Probably. He’s waiting for that hot wave of SHAME to come in at full force. Right with her of course NOT. It’d been a dumb question. To ask her out, after completely embarrassing himself in front of her pretty eyes. He again, returns to the conclusion that he’s WAY out of her league. Someone as pretty as her has GOT to have someone tied to her already. He’d be shocked otherwise. Such a beautiful personality to match every other thing he’s already come to adore about her. There’d just be no way.
❝ Yeah.. A date.. But it’s alright if y’don’t want to--- ❞ He wouldn’t blame her. She’s been so quiet. Is she thinking of how to say no? Normally, when he approaches girls with the idea of a date, they laugh in his face, or just say no IMMEDIATELY. ( Or even, completely ignore the request! ) It’s surprising, that he still has some sort of ego.
HE JUST LOOKS DOWN, watching her fiddle with his hands. He’s glad the bleeding is done. But now, she’s covered in it. He feels bad. This is not the mess she signed up for, and if she REALLY says yes to his date, that’d be an even bigger mess. ( Simply because he’s never been on one before! ) Quickly, in his mind he’s decided, once his hands are bandaged, he’ll clean her hands. It’s a weird thought. He’s sure she can do it herself. But he wants to take care of her too. It’s only fair. ( Also, he really just wants to keep holding her hand. )
BUT HE HEARS A simple word, MAYBE------- DID SHE SAY THAT? Did she say maybe? It’s said a second time and his heart skips a BEAT! His grin is at full force! He’s speechless, though. That’s a result he wasn’t, obviously expecting. ❝ Maybe huh? ❞ His hand, that was now bandaged and had some kind of feeling, wraps around her’s, and he looks up to her with this REAL genuine smile. ❝ I promise i’ll make it great! You’ll give me a chance? ❞ That hand leads hers to the warm water under the sink. ❝ Now.. Let me get this off of you, okay? If i’m gonna take you on a date.. I gotta show you I can be SOME kind of gentleman. ❞
