#//And can’t have rlly friends around unless they mind a little risk

[dutybcrne]

update: it got worse lmao

Me making a HSR verse for my oc: Hmmm so the plan on this one could maybe be a bad end for her tendency to fuck around and find out—

My brain: So anyways, make her whole deal a fucken horror story-

[pluviophile-imagines]

LOWI CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE!! 🥺💞💞💞 u deserve it and so much more!! for the kiss prompt could i get 18 with shinsou ?? 🥺👉👈

TYSM SOFFFF so uh. I’ve been fuckin stupid dkfnskfb my dumbass rlly wrote Shinsou correctly on my master post like a week ago and then still managed to write for Shigaraki instead when it came to the actual piece 😳 so thanks to my handyman brainrot you get two—that’s right, two!—characters for the price of one ur welcome ♥️ I cheated a lil bit so shinsou;s not sitting in the reader’s lap it’s just his head but i think its cute 🥺 also Shiggy’s is like twice as long as ive been trying to write them oops i rlly like the jealous reader premise 👉👈 it’s under the read more bc of that and bc of kiiiinda spoilers? if yall arent caught up to the manga you won’t get it but if u are it’s canonical. Whew that was a lot! Enjoy!

Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

Shinsou

To say that your relationship with Shinsou is new would be an understatement. You’ve been friends for years—ever since the third year of high school when you’d been assigned to him as his support—but you’ve never been particularly close until recently when you’d once again found yourself working on his hero costume and support items.

He’d only asked you out yesterday after nearly two months of tension-filled glances and fleeting touches. Now, the two of you are watching a movie at your mutual friend Kirishima’s apartment, sitting quite awkwardly on a loveseat and pretending like you don’t want to get closer to each other. You haven’t told your friends yet about your new relationship status, but that’s not entirely what’s holding you two back. If anything, it’s run-of-the-mill first date awkwardness (if watching a movie with six of your closest friends around can be considered a date), too afraid to initiate anything.

The movie’s dull; the two of you have pulled out your phones to snark at each other through text, a strategy you’d begun weeks ago after being hushed one too many times by Kaminari because you were talking too loudly. The bright screens probably aren’t all that much better, but you two are in the back anyway; nobody can see it unless they turn away from the TV.

You risk a glance up and end up locking eyes with Shinsou. Your face heats up, heartbeat quickening, as he gives you a charming smile. You watch him glance around the room, unsure at first why he’s doing it until he turns his attention back to you and slowly, silently, moves over across the loveseat into your personal space.

Your legs are touching now, faces so close your nose is nearly brushing his. One of his hands has come to brace against the armrest you’re leaning on, allowing him to stay leaning in.

“Hey,” he says, little more than a whisper and clearly hushed so the others don’t hear.

“Hey yourself,” you respond, earning yourself a low snort.

Instead of vocally responding, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position and then moves his hands to maneuver your legs until you’re no longer curled up against the couch’s backing but sitting like a normal person.

Then he lays down, head resting on your thighs, and turns to face the movie.

You’re grinning uncontrollably. All possible self-conscious thoughts of the others seeing you are dashed from your mind; you like the weight of him in your lap too much.

You spend much of the rest of the movie like that, easily over half an hour. A few minutes in he reaches down to find your hand and bring it to his hair, encouraging you to stroke it. It’s even softer than you’ve imagined in the past, fluffy and thick and genuinely nice to run your hands though. There’s a surge of contentment that rushes through you, and maybe a little bit of pride at the knowledge that you can do this pretty much any time you want now.

By the end of the film, you’re pretty sure Shinsou’s fallen asleep. He gives you the scare of your life, however, when he grabs your arm as you’re trying to pull away. His eyes open, purple irises trained on you.

What happens next you blame on grogginess, him still not quite being awake. He blames it on you; whenever you mention it, he says he saw you and had become consumed with an overwhelming desire to just lean up and kiss you. Whatever the reason, it’s nice for you.

His hand comes up to the back of your neck, tugging you down just as much as he lifts up. It begins soft, kind of sweet, just lips as the two of you melt into each other—but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Within moments the two of you morph the kiss from a quick peck after a movie to a very passionate makeout, and frankly you’d be more concerned if they hadn’t interrupted the two of you.

You pull away when you hear Kaminari’s wolf whistle, left sitting on the loveseat with a burning face and your boyfriend in your lap, still half asleep.

Shigaraki

You’re not jealous.

No, you’ve been dating Tomura for months. You can’t be jealous when he’s, well, yours, and has been for quite some time. You’re his first relationship, his first everything, and it’s frankly foolish of you to feel this insecure just because some floozy is simpering at him from across the enormous room where you and the rest of the League are scattered about. It’s not like she really wants him, or even knows him; he’s just the hew big-shot leader and she’s decided being his lover sounds good. Too bad that role’s already taken.

Still, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest—an ache in your heart, a burning lump in your throat—that says now that Tomura is Grand Commander he’ll drop you for someone better.

You don’t realize you’re glaring daggers at the woman until she catches your eye. She has no business looking that smug; the only reason she’s allowed in the room is to give Tomura reports. You’re the one lounging next to him as she approaches; he has your legs over his lap, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh.

And when she bends down to drop the report on his lap (as if your damn legs aren’t there, you want to scoff) she draws the eyes of every League member except the one she wants, because you’re the one who has Tomura’s attention.

He’s wearing Father, but you’ve long passed being afraid when he looks at you from between those lifeless digits and you can see the expression beneath; those lips tugging down slightly in a pout, brow furrowed, eyes far softer than they have any damn business being while hiding behind the severed hand of his old man. He’s concerned, and a little confused.

Tomura plucks the report from your legs and sets it aside, reaching to pull you fully into his lap. To your surprise he takes Father off, too; he buries his face into your neck to prevent the outsider from seeing, lips just brushing your ear so that you can hear him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been pouting ever since the secretary came in, brat.”

Like hell you’re saying anything in front of her. You remain stubbornly silent.

He doesn’t like that, you can tell, but while the secretary’s interest is lost on him he knows you well enough to tell that you’re uncomfortable with her. Presumably that’s why he doesn’t press the issue and kisses you instead.

You don’t expect it. Tomura’s not exactly one to shy away from PDA (you’re sitting in his lap in front of the whole League, for fuck’s sake), but intimacy is something he’s never wanted to take beyond closed doors. When he’s in a sour mood you’ll kiss him sometimes, even in public (he’s invigorated by your affection in many way, but never anything you’d call heated.

This kiss, though, is. It’s anything but chaste, perhaps even downright lewd. He’s all but initiating a makeout with you while Miss Secretary is standing right there. Maybe his affection-motivated ways are rubbing off on you, but it helps more than it probably ought to.

You’re dazed by the time he pulls away. The sound of the door slamming closed snaps you from your trance. The secretary, ploy foiled simply by your annoyed expression, had left. It doesn’t matter. None of this was ever really about her in the first place.

“There,” Tomura says, audibly quite pleased with himself. “She’s gone. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You sigh, leaning in to tuck your own head into his shoulder. Your voice is muffled when you speak, quiet so that only he can hear.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s bothering you,” he says simply. There’s an underlying statement there: tell me so I can destroy it for you. In many ways, Tomura is a predictable man.

You know he’s not going to drop it, so you accept your fate. “She was making a pass at you.”

He tenses beneath you, holding you closer. You risk lifting your head from where it’s buried to see the way his nose is scrunched up. “She wasn’t.”

“Yeah, she was.”

There’s a pause, like he’s processing everything you’re saying. Then, seemingly finally registering what exactly is bothering you, his hands move to grip your hips and maneuver you to straddle him, sitting fully on his lap facing him. “Fine. Why’re you pissed about it, then?”

You lean in again, arms coming to wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest and try to ignore the tears that are coming. You’d never be able to live it down if any of the others saw you crying over the fucking secretary.

But you know more than anyone thanks to many late nights assuring your boyfriend he’s the only one for you that Tomura can empathize with this insecurity. It’s a little strange how the script has flipped.

“She’s a high ranking MLA member, she probably has some crazy strong quirk. I’m quirkless. I dunno. I guess I’m scared you’ll drop me for someone like her. Like I said, it’s dumb.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. You sit there, listening to his heartbeat and matching your breathing to his. Then he speaks.

“Your emotions aren’t dumb. It’s okay that you’re feeling this way. Thank you for telling me.” He’s parroting you, you realize; this is what you tell him every time he comes to you for comfort when he’s gotten in a mood. You feel a little fuzzy, warmth flooding your chest. “But I think we both know they’re irrational.”

“Tomura… I—”

“I’m not interested in some lame-ass NPC,” he interrupts, no hesitation and entirely sincere. He doesn’t even need to think about it. “You’re my player two, my endgame. The only thing in this world worth protecting. You really think that secretary can hold a candle to you? I didn’t even notice her. Why would I when you’re here?”

You can’t help it, you surge upward and kiss him, just as passionately as he had you mere moments before. His right hand traces up your spine to find the back of your neck and pull you closer, sending a thrill through your body as your own arms tighten around him.

“Oi! Horndogs! Get a damn room, don’t make us see that!”

You break away at Dabi’s words, panting slightly, and if the sincerity of Tomura’s little rant hadn’t convinced you that his words were true, the look of utter adoration he’s regarding you with would have.

[yvngbin]

hello i’m arriving to the party an entire day late and this is Not Surprising at All to anybody who knows me slightly well because i’m late to everything. said late writer is ya boy , felix  ! i’m 20, i use he / him pronouns, annnd you don’t wanna know about me, you want to know about actual Nerd incarnate , yongbin .

his stats are here ,  bio is being rewritten because my dumbass deleted it from my drive , and all i have left to say is that you can like this if you want me to message you on here or discord to plot instead, since i’m usually faster on there … usually …

note: talks of surgery / birth defects,  &  kinda nsfw

⦑ felix. / 20. / gmt. / he/him. ⦒ woah ! tell me i did not just see cho yong bin walk past us, they’re the child of the cho family right ? they’re twenty three now, so i wonder if they’re here training to become an anarchist hacker. i heard they’re really intuitive & vexatious, so i’d say stay away from them unless you really wanna try your luck. no wonder they’re so notorious though, with the face of byun baekhyun i’d be interested in them as well. anyway, back to what i was saying. - yongbin, pain in the ass, and his most common sobriquet, zero ( name’s inspired by binary code btw ) , was a self taught anarchist hacker , but he sure as hell hasn’t been doing it for free all this time. he’s immensely adept and writes concise code and thoroughly enjoys annoying people and wreaking havoc in that precise order.

- hacker is kind of a blanket term, bin’s speciality was in blackmail, identity theft, exploiting vulnerabilities in various networks and systems, and causing all sorts of chaos online. when he was younger and before he was intimately familiar with the academy, he offered out his services to online rebel groups ( both good and bad ) and wasn’t officially apart of any system or group.

- this was subject to change a few years later when he was caught out on a slight mistake tracing back to his ip, assessed by an official representative of the school, who was impressed by his abilities and offered him an ultimatum: to join the academy or go to a detention camp.

- behind the screen bin was born with a pretty serious congenital heart defect. he needed surgery to survive, if only temporarily. every ten years or so, he’d have to do the same, with more or less no guarantee that they would all be successful. ( i would like to think that when he joined the academy some sort of technology maestro has helped him w / his respiratory issues so lmk if there’s a potential plot link there )

- bin is also an orphan who went through a very jaded system . he never knew his parents and frankly doesn’t care to know them, but little does he know that they have been tracing him from birth and were the sole reason why he got his place in the first place, ultimately unable to take care of him when their careers, both arms dealers, were too dangerous for a kid. his craft and experiences with life has made him instinctively cynical about his parents’ generation so like.. trusting an institution full of teachers their age was not and would never have been an ‘ideal’ for him. 

- his part time job used to be at a pc repair shop and he liked working there a lot, most people would question why he’d ultimately then go on to ruin a life he was happy with just to constantly risk getting into trouble. yongbin’s answer ? Because he’s Chaotic Neutral Thats Why

- socially, surprisingly unlike how most hackers are portrayed as nerds w sellotape on their glasses n a pocket protector ( he has a pocket protector but thats besides the point ) zero is outgoing in school and onwards, liked seeing what other people were interested in, pushing boundaries and keeping up with his friends just by listening and absorbing information.

- he isn’t exactly well liked, because his brain to mouth filter malfunctioned a lot of times which caused friction, But he definitely knows how to make and maintain friendships if you can handle him vanishing off the face of the earth and replying to your text from two weeks ago at 4 am like wyd

PERSONALITY

- zero’s life has mostly been not very fun, and he definitely realises this, but he’s not really the type to sit around and cry about it. mostly, he tries to take it with a stiff upper lip and a good sense of humour. he’s snarky and dry and enjoys getting into cyber-wars with other comp nerds in his limited friendship group. he definitely also enjoys sending lil viruses to other ppl in hearst just to let you know just how much your firewall sucks

- he’s got a real bad habit of getting wayyy in over his head with things. he’s like, a lil bit of a troublemaker — a back-talking, muttering under his breath, sneaking into places he shouldn’t, kind of troublemaker, but nothing too offensive. however, he sometimes gets into Actual Trouble because he makes the world’s worst choices and follows the world’s worst people’s advice. his personal motto is, “oh fuck. why?”

- he can be affectionate and immensely appreciative of anyone who’s genuinely kind toward him, even if his pride won’t let him come right out and say so. he’s p creative and resourceful — definitely can think you out of a pinch, even if he’s not so great at solving his own shit.

- friend wise, he’s attentive and thoughtful; sharp as a tack, funny as anything, and would totally rather help you out with your problems than get into deep discussions about his because opening that big ol book of issues is not gonna be fun for Anybody - romantically he’s inwardly pansexual for a long while but to people around him that probably.. wouldn’t be that big of a surprise. don’t talk to him about real love though he really is a computer machine with 0 emotions in that realm

tinie headcanon list because ive been slowly gathering them in my head for Days

-  has a handful of piercings on his ears , but the one he’s known for most is his labret piercing

- has a chameleon called cookie and donates to a dog shelter wherein his favourite stray dog ( known as flash ) lives. and yes he’s naming them after computer terms. no he wont Reconsider

- proud owner of 1 terabyte of hentai stored on his external hard drive that he’d gladly d*e for n is not ashamed of it in the slightest this zone is kink shame free !!!!

- loves to go exploring around the grimier parts of the academy and places you rlly wouldn’t expect him to be to clear his mind. abandoned classrooms, warehouses, etc.

- talk to him about conspiracy theories about alien life forms for a friend

- has absolutely awful hand eye co-ordination despite it playing in to a big part of their training so just know he’s probably dying first, or just teach him to throw a punch and not somehow hurt himself ? Blease

- sticks his tongue out while he’s hacking or doing anything that requires concentration. can’t multi-task and will ignore everything in his general surroundings to give 110 percent to whatever he’s doing.

- is a scorpio so sorry u cant trust anything he says i dont make the rules the astrological gods do

that’s all i’ve got up to now and i hope this gives you a bit of background into what he’s about. i think i’ll finish here before i write more trash so [ hacker voice ] im out

[puddingcatbeans]

title: build a home in me (i’ll give you a place to hide) pairing/characters: promptis if u tilt ur head rated: g summary: Sometimes Noctis just wants a place to hide from the endless cacophony that is being the next in line for the Lucian throne. Prompto doesn't have much to offer, but he does his best. alternatively, how prompto accidentally became a willing accomplice to noctis' self-kidnapping from all the pressure that is his life.

i can’t believe i’m back with more ffxv fanfiction but here you go, something soft because friendship is really important to me and i’m a sucker for hurt/comfort, also honestly let noctis rest already, i will Fight

>ao3 link <

Prompto waves goodbye to the other members of the photography club, humming to himself as he turns to head home. But when he turns the corner, he finds a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

“Noct! You’re still here?”

Noctis glances up at him. “Hey, Prompto. You done with club?”

“Yup! You wanna go somewhere?”

“Can we go to your place?” Noctis is already walking down the stairs, expecting Prompto to follow.

Prompto blinks at his friend’s back. They usually go over to Noctis’ apartment, since it’s closer and Noctis has all of the latest consoles and also just. Ignis’ cooking. But Prompto doesn’t voice his questions out loud. Instead, he bounds after Noctis. “Sure! Is your ‘guard giving us a ride?”

Noctis’ shoulders immediately go up. “Let’s take the train,” he says shortly.

Prompto bites his lip. Something is definitely bothering Noctis. But Prompto knows his friend, and he knows that when Noctis is moody, he prefers to stew in silence until he’s ready to confront his problems. And that’s fine, but right now, Noctis is actively seeking his company. So Prompto vows to not screw it up.

On the train, he lets Noctis lean on his shoulder. In his school uniform, Noctis doesn’t really stand out against the crowd unless he’s standing at full attention. There’s that air of royal grace one just can’t hide, but in their three or so years of high school, Noctis has mastered the art of slouching like an angsty teenager, and no one looks at them twice.

Noctis isn’t a very tactile person, something Prompto has always chalked up to his royal upbringing and properness that Ignis is always talking about. Sometimes, mostly when it’s just the two of them, Noctis will let Prompto sit close, close enough their body heat mingles and the barely-there barrier between Prince Noctis and his subjects will disappear completely. So Noctis leaning on Prompto like this in a public space is something rare. He must be really tired, Prompto thinks, to allow himself to let his guard down like this. Vulnerable.

When Prompto lets them into his foster parents’ house, Noctis immediately makes a beeline for the couch. Prompto only watches in dismay. Noctis has always complained about how uncomfortable that couch is, despite the fact that he’s only visited a handful of times. Prompto agrees, seeing as the couch is rarely used and mostly just there to fit into the neat interior design that his parents seem to like so much, even though they don’t come back often enough to appreciate it.

Prompto hovers behind the couch. “Oh, hey, Noct,” he says brightly, “What do you want for dinner? The fridge isn’t really stocked, since I mostly eat at your place and Ignis seems to have spoiled me—” He notices how Noctis stiffens at the name of his advisor, so Prompto talks faster. “—We could get takeout from that fast-food place you like? The one with the meat-atarian burgers? Oh, but they don’t do deliveries—But it’s just down the block, I can run out and get them, it’ll be like fifteen minutes—”

“No!” Noctis sits up, but quickly averts his gaze. “Just. Stay here. Please.”

“O-okay.” Prompto pulls at his bottom lip. “Uh. There’s probably? Some ramen leftover in the cupboards from last time I went shopping? How about some good old ramen, yeah?”

Noctis nods, flopping back onto the couch. Prompto sighs to himself. He can read Noctis like a comic book but sometimes it’s a little hard understanding what exactly the problem is when it feels like the whole universe is out against his best friend. Shaking his head, Prompto turns to hunt down some edible food.

There are some packages of ramen left, though the due date is closer than he thought. He decides to actually cook them instead of just pouring hot water. He’s no Ignis in the kitchen, but he’s had enough practice living alone that he won’t set off the fire alarm. Probably. At some point, Noctis even wanders over to help, though Prompto suspects it’s mostly to make sure only minimal spinach goes into the ramen.

They opt to settle on the floor instead of the lumpy couch. The tv is on, some cartoon about an exiled lion that makes friends with wild animals and journeys back to reclaim his rightful throne. Something about the show turns Prompto’s stomach, but when he glances over at Noctis, he finds his friend isn’t even paying attention.

Noctis’ phone pings again like it has been for the better part of the last hour, and Prompto watches as Noctis scowls, brows knit and mouth tight, eyes dark under his bangs. He shuts down the phone and then throws it across the table. They both stare after it as it falls out of sight and lands with a soft thump on the floor.

“Noct? That sounded important...”

Noctis sighs. “I just... don’t want to deal with all that right now. I don’t—I don’t want to be Noctis Lucis Caelum right now, okay? Just for one night, I... I don’t want anything to do with the throne.”

Prompto stays quiet. He looks at Noctis as his friend leans his head back against the couch cushion, eyes closed and looking so weary, so miserable, so much older than he should be.

“Okay,” says Prompto, “then... you can just be Noctis, Prompto’s best friend, right?”

When Noctis finally meets his gaze, there’s a small smile ghosting his lips.

Prompto grins back.

He waits until he hears the shower running before pulling his phone from his pocket. It was vibrating nonstop throughout their dinner, so much so that Prompto is half-afraid there will be a hole in his favourite pair of jeans.

[6:38 pm] [from: iggy] Prompto, is Noctis with you?

[7:03 pm] [from: iggy] Prompto, Noctis is ignoring my calls and neither Gladio nor I have any idea where he is. Please respond.

[7:15 pm] [from: iggy] Prompto, you won’t be in trouble, but I need to know where Noctis is. Please respond.

[7:20 pm] [from: behemoth] hey is noct w u if he is tell him 2 text iggy or sth

[7:27 pm] [from: iggy] Noctis refused a ride today, said he was ‘hanging out’ with you. Please respond.

[7:29 pm] [from: iggy] Neither of you are responding and I am worried.

[7:32 pm] [from: iggy] Please do not make me have to call the Crownsguard.

[7:40 pm] [from: behemoth] iggys abt 2 have aneurysm tell noct if he doesnt respond in 10mins ill kick his ass after iggy kills him

Prompto winces. He does not want the Crownsguard to come knocking down his door. It’s one thing going through a full security check the first few times he visited Noctis’ apartment. He doesn’t need his neighbours asking why he’s so closely associated with the Prince.

Sparing a quick glance down the hall where the bathroom is, he texts back as fast as he can.

[7:58 pm] [to: iggy] im sorry!!!!! noct IS here we’re @ my place pls dont send the guards after me

[7:59 pm] [from: iggy] Why isn’t Noctis answering my calls.

[8:00 pm] [to: iggy] he turned his phone off he’s kind of;; upset

[8:02 pm] [from: iggy] That is no reason to worry his guardians. I will come collect him.

[8:03 pm] [to: iggy] i dont think thats a good idea ignis i think noct just needs some space let him sleep over? i promise nothing will happen to him

[8:05 pm] [from: iggy] That’s not your decision to make, Prompto. Our priority is the Prince’s safety.

[8:06 pm] [to: iggy] i know but i think hes rlly stressed about the whole prince thing please ignis?

Prompto chews on his bottom lip, looking from his phone to the empty hallway. He understands Ignis’ concern, but he’s also Noctis’ best friend. He’d risk being arrested for attempted kidnapping of the Crown Prince if it meant being able to give Noctis some peace of mind.

He just wants to give Noct a safe space to stay when he needs it. And right now, he needs it more than ever.

His phone buzzes again, and he looks back down apprehensively.

[8:12 pm] [from: iggy] Fine. I will have his security detail set up surveillance of your place though.

[8:13 pm] [to: iggy] thanks ignis!! he’ll be back before u know it

[8:14 pm] [from: iggy] Not too soon, then.

Noctis refuses to move from the bed. He’s completely camped out, knees tucked in and blanket wrapped securely around his body, only the top of his head peeking out from his makeshift nest.

“I had to tell them,” Prompto says again. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, but Noctis has been ignoring him ever since Prompto told him about the texts. “They’re just doing their job.”

The Noctis-shaped lump huffs crossly, before shuffling against the wall. Except Prompto’s comforter is patterned with dancing chocobos, so instead of making Prompto feel guilty, he just feels amused. He tries his best to stop smiling.

“Noooooct,” he says, climbing up onto the bed. “Come ooon, it’s rude to ignore your host when he’s so graciously offered up his humble abode for you to hide out in.”

“You’re not gracious at all,” is Noctis’ muffled reply.

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

Prompto tugs at his wristband absentmindedly as he muses what to do next. It’d be kind of a waste if Noctis just spent the entire time pouting. But there’s really nothing to do in this house. He’s rarely here after all, spending most of his time either at Noctis’ place or at the arcade or at his part-time job or frolicking about taking photographs or just anywhere but here, really.

“Hey, Noct.” Prompto scoots back until he’s leaning against the wall, too. “Let’s plays a game.”

“... What game?”

“Uh... Question and Answer?”

That gets a reaction out of Noctis. His face pokes through the top of the blankets, and he frowns at Prompto. “That’s not a game, Prompto. That’s an interrogation.”

“Humour me for a sec, here, bro.” Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, Prompto says, “What would you name your pet chocobo, if you had a pet chocobo?”

“Of course you’d ask about chocobos.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you never thought about having a pet chocobo!”

Noctis rolls his eyes. But his entire head has emerged from the blanket now. “Prompto,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I’d name it Prompto.”

Prompto squints. “I can’t tell if you’re being sweet or just being an ass.”

His friend only smirks back at him. “What would you name yours then?”

“Stella! Or Cherry. Or Bea! Or Liv! Or Nora!”

“Any particular reason why those are all girl names, Prompto? Hm?”

It takes him a moment to understand what Noctis is getting at. Prompto’s face heats up. He swats at his friend, receiving a satisfying grunt of pain. “Sh-Shut up, dude! At least I didn’t name it after my best friend!”

“That would be great disrespect,” Noctis sniffs, rubbing his shoulder, “naming an animal after your royal prince.”

“Uh-uh! You’re not a prince anymore, remember? Tonight you’re just plain ole Noctis, a lazy nerd who sleeps like a cat and for some reason has a personal vendetta against beans.”

As expected, Noctis scrunches his face at the mention of his most hated vegetable. “Beans are gross, Prompto. Don’t make me vomit on your bed.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Next question: what kind of animal would you be?”

“You just said I was a cat.”

“What kind of animal do you think I would be, then?”

“That’s easy,” Noctis says, and there’s that crooked grin of his, and that playful glint in those blue eyes as they look at Prompto from behind those dark bangs. A strand of his hair is sticking up from being under the blanket for so long. “A chocobo.”

“That was easy,” Prompto agrees, grinning back. “Hmm... If you could go anywhere in Eos, where would you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Noctis says right away. But then he sighs, and leans his head back until he knocks against the wall. “I think... Galdin Quay, maybe. I heard the fishing’s good there.”

Prompto hums. “You do love fishing.”

“What about you?”

There’s a pause as Prompto considers. He didn’t really have an answer despite asking the question. He’s never really gone anywhere. Noctis hasn’t either, but he’s the Prince, whether he likes it or not, and unfortunately that means being watched like a hawk and being confined to certain areas of Insomnia. Prompto just never had the chance to go anywhere. It’s not like his parents would take him. And anything else before coming to this house doesn’t count, because he can’t remember.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I guess I’m fine with anywhere, as long as it’s with you, Noct.”

It’s not until the words are out of his mouth and in between them that Prompto realizes what he’s just said. But it’s too late. His eyes widen, and he bites his lip forcefully, mentally cursing himself. That kind of sappy novel bullshit is fine when they’re clearly teasing, but this conversation has been quiet, almost intimate. It’s not like the words are a lie, because they’re not. Prompto is pretty sure he’d go to the ends of Eos for Noctis, he’d probably maybe most certainly die for Noctis, not because Noctis is his Prince but because Noctis is probably definitely the most important person in his life, ever.

Prompto doesn’t want to push away the only real friend he has with his stupid clinginess.

When he finally risks a glance over at Noctis, he finds the other boy staring down at his lap, lips pressed tight like he wants to say something but isn’t really sure what. And if Prompto’s eyes aren’t deceiving him, there’s a slight tinge of pink dusting Noctis’ cheeks.

Prompto doesn’t know what this means. He stays quiet.

“It’d be nice,” Noctis says eventually, voice low and slow, “if we could go explore the world some day, see what’s there outside the wall. Insomnia’s nice and all but... sometimes I feel like there are so many things out there we’re missing out on, you know? So if maybe... One day, before I have to ascend the throne or whatever, I’d like to travel a bit. It’d be cool if you could come with.”

Warmth swells in his chest. Prompto smiles. “Are you asking me to go on a road trip with you, Noct?”

“Sure.” Noctis shrugs. “Gladio and Specs will probably have to come with, but it’d be something, wouldn’t it? And besides,” Noct tilts a smile at him, “it wouldn’t be a true road trip without our very own photographer, would it?”

Prompto all but launches himself onto his best friend. They tumble down in a heap, but Noctis doesn’t pull away. In fact, if Prompto’s not imagining it, Noctis’ arms holds him closer.

“I’d be honoured,” Prompto says into Noctis’ shirt. It’s one of his, an old one so it hangs off Noctis’ slightly fuller frame oddly, but Prompto thinks the other boy wears it better than he ever did. It smells a little like himself and something that is entirely Noctis.

It smells like home.

“Good,” Noctis replies, one hand coming up into Prompto’s hair. “Because it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Prompto’s glad his face is currently buried against his best friend’s chest, because he doesn’t know what his expression is doing right now, only that it’s embarrassing.

He’s a lucky, lucky bastard. One of the Astrals must have been looking out for him because even if he can’t remember where he came from or why his nightmares are tinged with red and steel and fading screams, even if there’s an ugly mark etched into his wrist that never allows him to forget that he doesn’t deserve any of this, even if some mornings he can’t face his own reflection and his skin itches and itches because he’s wrong and everyone can tell, even if the house he returns to every night has always been empty and cold and never a home, even if everyone has always looked at him funny because he has the nerve to hang around the Prince like he belongs—

Prompto wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant all of that led up to this moment right here, being able to sink into the warmth of his best friend. Noctis is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It’s incredibly selfish of him, but Prompto would do anything to be able to remain by Noctis’ side.

They fall into a comfortable, familiar sort of silence. Prompto’s still sprawled over Noctis, but Noctis doesn’t say anything, so Prompto doesn’t either. Their hugs never lasted this long before, but they’re no stranger to drifting off in the same space after a hearty round of video games. And if Prompto is being honest, having someone else’s body heat next to his works better than any sleeping pill.

When his thoughts start to float off in strangely abstract tangents, he taps at Noctis’ side. “Noct,” he says, “I should turn off the lights before we fall asleep for real.”

“Nnnngh,” Noctis says back. He doesn’t seem to want to let go.

“Okay, fine, but at least let me—” Prompto wiggles until Noctis, groaning loudly, loosens his hold enough for him to reach over for one of his many stuffed moogles. He’s now half on his back, with Noctis’ arms wrapped around him like some sort of koala, and even if he turns his head it’s still an awkward angle. Still, he raises his arm, squinting across his room at the wall next to the door. He takes his aim, pulls back, and then releases.

The moogle hits the light switch, and then they’re both drenched in darkness.

“Nice shot,” Noctis murmurs above his head.

“Of course,” Prompto says, grinning proudly.

He rolls back over, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in so he doesn’t wake up with a pulled muscle or something. Noctis adjusts his arms to accommodate more of his weight. Soon, they’re both lying on their sides, Prompto’s head tucked under Noctis’ chin, the chocobo blanket tossed over the both of them, legs tangled together and somehow none of their long awkward limbs trailing off the edge of the bed. Noctis’ breathing ruffles Prompto’s hair slightly. He closes his eyes, concentrating on counting the steady rhythm. It’s warm, but comfortably so.

“Prompto,” he hears just as he was drifting off again. There’s a feeling of fingers gently running through his hair, and then a whisper, soft enough for only his ears to hear, “Thank you.”

Prompto’s eyelids are too heavy by now, but he can feel the edges of his mouth pull up. He presses closer, nose against his best friend’s collarbone, and dreams.