#adding my unasked for opinion into the mix

[skxrbrand]

40k is dumb lmao

[kallypsowrites]

I've seen alot of big book Twitter,BookTube and BookTok accounts suddenly turning Malina stans when previously they were Darkling/Darklina stans. And they use the same performative activism words like "manipulative" "abusive" "abuse apologist" "predatory" "pedophilia" and what not. One thing that I ABSOLUTELY LOATHE is them using such words with so much weight and blame in them,words that are REALITY for alot of people,to define the "lack of morality" in people who enjoy a fictional ship. I hate it.

And secondly,in my opinion,people suddenly turning into Mal stans has two reasons:

1. Mal is played by a POC actor. So if they hate on the character played by a POC actor, they'll obviously be called racist now. But if Mal was played by a white man,they wouldn't have changed their opinions. We're forgetting that all that Mal and Alina were white in the books for a whole decade,they turned them into mixed people in the show. I LOVE Archie I've known him since Golddigger but this isn't sitting right with me. Suddenly liking a character, forgetting all his wrongdoings just because he's played by POC? Something is fishy. I saw this tweet that said "Thank God Archie is playing Mal if it was a white boy I would've hated Mal even more." And the reply was "The only reason I'm suddenly into Mal is because he's mixed,if he was white it would've been on sight" and I just??????? I'm hella excited for Mal in the show but all these people who previously HATED Mal now trying to be all "Mal my king Darkling stay away you gross predator!!!" Has me losing my remaining 4 braincells.

2. They're simply scared of being cancelled for liking a problematic ship. They want to be on the "good side" of the fandom and feel moral superiority over people who like Darkles or Darklina. And I hate this. They call Ben an abuse apologist when he, just like us,NEVER justified Aleksander's behaviour. Good for them I guess,I'm gonna sit back and enjoy Ben and Jessie spreading the Darklina agenda while antis cry about how wrong it is.

Sorry for the rant pls correct me if I'm wrong. Love your blog❤️😭

Hey anon!

So, personally, I’m very wary of being the topic of race into the discourse because, simply put, its not my place. I am white. I don’t feel qualified to speak on the topic. I have seen POC who enjoy Darklina/the Darkling. I have seen POC who don’t. There are going to be a lot of people who come into the show fresh and this Mal and Darkling will be the only ones they know. And therefore it will be a valid interpretation if they like Mal better based on his new character. Not to mention, based on interviews, elements of his personality have been changed to make him more likeable so his race is not the only thing to change.

There is a conversation to be had about the fact that in the original trilogy, everyone was whiter than white with a few exceptions. And I am hoping Leigh doesn’t get too much credit for the show diversity. Its good that she is adding more, but she also doesn’t deserve brownie points. White authors in general get way too many pats on the back for writing ‘diverse books’ when really the spotlight should be shining more on POC authors who have constantly struggled to gain recognition in the industry.

Bottom line, I have no doubt people are going to discuss race in Shadow and Bone and I plan to mostly keep my mouth shut and listen on that because it’s not my place to add. I obviously don’t know your race so its up to you how you respond.

Now as to the second point, I do agree. I think Darklina is an overtly problematic ship. Its hero x villain. it never pretends to be anything else. And the Darkling is going to do some villainous stuff. People who are cool with enjoying fictional villains are okay with this, but there are plenty of people who would prefer to have the moral high ground (especially if they didn’t have strong opinions on the ship to begin with). I don’t know how many people have ‘switched’ because I’m kind of new to this fandom. But my advice is to let people ship as they please and if they do cross lines/attack you/send unasked for hate, block and move on. Life is to short to waste it all arguing with strangers about your taste and fictional ships.

I am glad that you like my blog.🖤

[dickspeightjrs]

You said you wanted prompts. I just need something fluffy that is Destiel and has to do with the handprint scar on Dean. Just Dean asking Cas about it and Cas explaining it’s not just a mark on his body, but his soul as well.

ao3 link

It’s one of those in-between days. They can’t find any cases worth checking out and the next big bad hasn’t reared its ugly head yet. 

Dean’s pretty sure he heard Sam still get up at the crack of dawn and go for a run. Freak. 

Dean on the other hand, is perfectly content to remain in bed for as long as possible. Though, that might be less to do with his laziness, and more to do with the cute-ass angel doing his best impression of an octopus next to him. 

Dean loves to watch Castiel sleep. It’s the knowledge that Castiel has survived another day - there’s some angels out there who love to have his head on stick. It’s the fact that Cas feels relaxed enough with Dean that he can succumb to the calmness of sleep. It’s also because seeing the frown lines of Cas’ face smoothed out, the worry gone from his complexion, Dean can pretend for just a little while that they’re normal. That the only stress in their lives is normal people things like taxes and mortgages. 

Sometimes Dean thinks back to how this thing between them started. If John Winchester could see him now, in bed with a supernatural being, he’d flip his lid. But, Dean gave up trying to please that ghost years ago (though it wasn’t soon enough in Sam and Castiel’s opinion). How could something, someone, that makes him feel light in the darkest of worlds be wrong?

Castiel shifts against Dean's side, nosing at Dean’s shoulder. It’s the shoulder that used to be home to Castiel’s handprint. Dean remembers feeling completely freaked out when he first saw it in the mirror of that abandoned gas station. The feelings of confusion - what creature could possibly be strong enough to lift a soul from hell? Little did Dean know of the adventure he was about to embark on. 

Considering how their relationship turned out, Dean kinda misses having the scar, the connection to his angel for all to see. He is, of course, grateful for the amount of times he’s been brought back and glued back together over the years. But, he can’t help but feel nostalgic for the piece of Castiel he once carried. 

“You think too loudly,” Castiel murmurs against Dean’s shoulder. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Dean rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s crankiness. Since his angel mojo had been depleting, Cas had taken to sleep the most out of all the basic human customs. 

Looking down at the mess of scruffy, dark hair on the pillow, Dean found he couldn’t complain. 

“Sorry,” Dean whispers back. “Just thinking about the scar I used to have on my shoulder. Kinda miss it, y’know?”

Cas sighs deeply and heaves himself to pillow his head on Dean’s chest. The beating of Dean’s heart soothes him and reminds him on the day he laid that scar on Dean. The anxious moments waiting for Dean’s heart to start again, for him to wake and drag himself out of that grave. 

“I understand. It was a reminder of where our journey together started.” Castiel hums. “But it wasn’t just a mark on your skin. It is permanently etched onto your soul.”

“What?” Dean pulls away to sit up and look Castiel in the eyes. The angel looked back with nothing but sincerity. 

“When I rescued your soul from hell, you weren’t in your physical form. My grace bonded with your soul, leaving a permanent mark.” Castiel explains. “Honestly, I didn’t expect your human body to be scarred too. “I suppose the bond between us must have burned through.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say. “So, that time when you said that you and me have a more profound bond, you meant it?”

Castiel sits up against the headboard to be level with Dean and puts his hand on top of Dean’s. “I meant every word of it.” He whispers firmly. 

“B-but if it was your grace that bonded with my soul, how come it came out shaped like a handprint and not, I dunno, some giant blob.”

Castiel starts playing with Dean’s fingers that are resting on the bed covers. “I’ve wondered that too, over the years,” he says. “The only theory I’ve managed to come up with is that it’s more to do with the human element of your soul and less to do with my grace.”

Dean frowns. “I don’t know what you mean, Cas.”

Cas meets Dean’s eyes again with a mix of sadness and intense love. “It’s a basic human need to want to be touched. I believe that, when I pulled you from hell, you were touch-starved. Your time there left you feeling lonely, unloved, raw.” He raises a hand to brush through Dean’s hair. “Though, I also remember thinking at the time that those feelings may have been there from before your time in hell.”

Dean leans into Cas’ touch, tears beginning to form in his eyes. He just couldn’t get used to Castiel knowing him better than he knew himself. Seeing elements of himself that he tries hard to keep hidden away. He knows he’d longed for love for years, even before hell, (in whatever form he could take it - whether from Sam, his mom, his dad) but he never realised his soul ached for it too. 

Castiel seems to sense that Dean isn’t able to say anything yet so he just leans in to place a soft kiss of love on the hunter’s lips. Dean follows along willingly. 

When they pull away, Dean rests his head against Castiel’s, “I love you, Cas.” He breathes against the angel’s lips. 

“I love you too, Dean. Always.”

*  *  *

Later, the two men are still locked in a sleepy embrace. Sam has come back from his run (Dean could hear him clattering around the bunker corridors with his big moose limbs) but he hadn’t come and interrupted Dean and Castiel’s peaceful bubble. They’ve scarred Sam more than once by now - he’s learnt his lesson to stay away from their room at all costs.

A thought suddenly occurs to Dean. “Cas?”

Castiel hums from under the duvet. “Yes, Dean?” His muffled voice flows through. 

“There was that time when Balthazar said ‘the one with the dirty trench coat, who’s in love with you’...” He trails off letting the question go unasked. It had taken days to stop that phrase repeating in Dean’s head at the time. He didn’t want to dare to hope that Castiel actually felt the same way. 

Castiel’s face appears suddenly from the soft cocoon he’d created. He squints adorably at Dean. “I wasn’t aware he’d said such a thing,” he mumbles. “However, he probably said so because, along with their abilities to see a human’s soul, any angel could see the bond between your soul and my grace. It is not a common occurrence.” 

“So, any angel I meet knows that I’m taken? That I’m all yours?” Dean asks. “That I have been from the moment you rescued me from hell?” 

“If that’s how you’d like to think of it, then yes. I’m yours, Dean.” Castiel blushes.

“Awesome.” Dean smiles, leaning over to steal a kiss from his angel. 

And he swears he could feel something deep inside him glow.

-

A/N: I hope you liked it! Sorry it’s so late. I really enjoyed writing this one though. Thank you for your prompt.

Remember to support creators. Reblog if you enjoyed!

Tags: @eccentriccas @multifandom-fanatic @thekingslover @jhoomwrites

If you’d like to be added/removed from my tag list, let me know!

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday bootleggerbea

February 27-I'd really like a Bucky/Darcy/OtherMC in which Darcy has a small child, and Bucky/Other (established) just. Want. That. Family. And, damnit, they're going to make it happen. Fluffy as hell, with cameo cheerleader Steve, please? No Rumlow or Rollins, but anyone else is fine especially someone not usually thought to be family-oriented, for @bootleggerbea 

I chose the pairing Bucky/Darcy/Stephen Strange, since you mentioned going with someone usually less family-oriented. I hope that’s okay!

Written by @kathryn-claire-oconnor 

Steve had not, technically speaking, been overly happy when Bucky had told him that he’d began an official relationship with Stephen Strange. According to the history books, Bucky had been quite the ladies’ man back in the day (true) with quite the string of lovers and flings to boot (totally false). Steve had thought Bucky’s interest in Stephen began and ended with sleeping with the sorcerer, until Bucky had told him differently. Talking him into coming ‘round had been a process, one for which Stephen hadn’t exactly had the patience.

“Let him be angry,” Stephen had suggested, more than once. “It doesn’t affect me, or our relationship, as long as we say it doesn’t.”

“No one else in this facility would care so little for the opinions of your best friend,” Steve had pointed out, more than once.

“Make them sit down and talk it out like the big boys that they’re supposed to be,” Darcy Lewis had suggested, stabbing her mixing spoon into the air to emphasize her point before she handed said spoon to her lucky little toddler, Andrew.

“Chocolate!” the three-year-old told Bucky very seriously, licking a strip of batter off the spoon. “Help everyone feel better.”

Bucky chuckled, making a face at the little boy so that he’d laugh before he thanked Darcy and left her apartment. He told himself that he’d only imagined glimpsing her checking out his ass as he headed for the elevator. 

He’d taken her advice, and Andrew’s, making hot cocoa for the three of them before he rounded up Steve and Stephen and made them sit down with him and talk it out. Now, Steve was much more on board with Bucky and Stephen’s relationship, and when he caught a whiff of Bucky and Stephen’s mutual attraction to Darcy… he was almost embarrassingly on board with that.

Honestly, Bucky didn’t know what he’d do with his best friend, but some days he wanted to kill him. Even if he was the one who’d nudged Bucky into telling Stephen about his crush on Darcy. Because sometimes Steve just took things a little too far. Like convincing Stephen – not even Bucky, but Stephen Strange – to ask Darcy to accompany Stephen and Bucky on their monthly date night.

Not that either man precisely admitted that was what the night was. Not that they were purposefully hiding it, but they didn’t want to spook Darcy right out of the gate, either.

In the end when the night came, their plans – going to see the latest Disney movie with both Darcy and Andrew – didn’t matter anyway. Darcy called Bucky two hours before they were supposed to meet up, while he and Stephen were knee-deep in deciding what to wear to their date-that-probably-wasn’t-a-date. “I am so sorry, but Andrew just puked literally all over his bedroom, and now he’s having a super clingy semi-meltdown and I just—I can’t leave things like this, and I definitely can’t leave him with Laura and the Barton kiddos like I was planning. I’m afraid we’re going to have to reschedule the movie? If you two still want to go sometime?”

“Oh, we do,” Bucky promised her. “But not while Little Man’s feeling down. That’s no fun for anyone.”

“Thanks, Bucky,” Darcy said, and he could hear the relief in her voice, along with Andrew groaning and whining in the background.

He thought about asking her how Andrew was doing, how she was doing, or if she needed anything from him and Stephen. He’d been around enough single mothers, though, and knew how stubborn and determined Darcy could be, and he had a feeling he knew what her answers would be. Everyone was fine, or they would be fine; no need for anyone to worry. She had this under control all on her own.

Which he didn’t doubt, but he also knew that she’d sounded tired over the phone, and he knew that he wanted to help, and so would Stephen once he knew what was going on. So, he said a quick goodbye to Darcy, hung up, and explained the situation to Stephen.

Stephen stared at Bucky for a beat, trying to figure out if they were on the same page, then nodded sharply and stood to his feet. “I’ll get chicken soup from the place down the street, you get a couple movies, and I’ll meet you there?”

Bucky nodded – mission accepted – and turned to go into their entertainment room. He grinned when he realized that, in his haste to get to Darcy and Andrew, Stephen had opened a portal from their bedroom to the front of the diner.

“The Cars movies,” Stephen said suddenly, before moving to step through his portal. “If I’ve been paying close enough attention, Andrew seems to favor those.”

How adorable was his boyfriend, that he noticed? Bucky stepped back into their bedroom, grabbing Stephen by the front of the button-up he’d been planning on wearing to the movies and giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at Darcy’s.”

Bucky beat Stephen to Darcy’s apartment even with Stephen’s portals, and knocked on the door with a handful of movies on one arm and his fluffiest blanket draped over the other. Too late, he realized he hadn’t taken the time to change back into less formal “normal” clothes before he’d hopped on the elevator and come over.

Stephen stepped gracefully out of a portal right behind Bucky as Darcy opened the door to her apartment. She looked torn between being stunned and being worried when she saw them both standing there.

Answering her unasked question, Stephen held up his bag of soup, saying, “We thought we’d bring movie night to the two of you?”

“If Andrew’s feeling up to it?” Bucky added, old instincts from babysitting sick best friends kicking in effortlessly.

Darcy must’ve read the worry on his face, because she smiled softly and nodded. “Sure. He’s just resting on the couch now. He was very disappointed about not being able to go tonight – and so was I, honestly – so thanks for this, guys. You’re winning lots of brownie points right now, I promise.”

“Brownie points?” Stephen asked before Bucky could turn and mouth that he should hush before he said something he shouldn’t. “Why would you think we want those?”

His play at being smooth was a total flop as Darcy raised her eyebrows at him from above very knowing blue eyes. “Because you both know my brownie-baking schedule, and someone,” she gestured to the movies in Bucky’s hand. “Knows my son’s favorite movies. Which means you’ve been paying attention. Which probably means you’re on the road to trying to make investment in our lives. Which I would just like to state for the record I am totally okay with.”

Bucky through the caution he and Stephen had been planning on into the proverbial wind as he asked, “Even if the ‘investment’ we’d like is more of a romantic-with-Darcy, paternal-with-Andrew sort of thing?”

Darcy grinned, stealing the blanket he’d brought and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she assured them, “Oh, definitely. Now,” she fixed first him and then Stephen with a steady, still-amused look, asking, “Are there any further questions we need to get ironed out before Kiddo is within earshot?”

One side of Stephen’s mouth quirked up as he shouldered past Bucky and asked, “Do I get a kiss as well?”

Darcy let out a huff of laughter, and when she rose as far as she could on her tiptoes, Stephen still had to lean over a little for her to give him that kiss on the cheek. Which made the word “adorable” come to Bucky’s mind for the second time that night.

“Anything else?” Darcy asked the now-grinning men.

They shook their heads and followed Darcy into her apartment. As they walked, however, Bucky teased, “Do you think we could get those brownie points converted into actual brownies?”

Darcy didn’t have a chance to answer before Andrew sat up from where he was resting on the couch, cheering, “Bucky! Stephen!”

Stephen handed the takeout to Bucky, approaching Andrew with a casual smile. “Hello, Little Man. We heard you aren’t feeling well. We thought you might like it if we brought the movies to you instead.”

“Yeah!”

“Feel free to do whatever doctor-ing you feel in the mood for,” Darcy suggested, standing in the doorway and just watching the notoriously once-self-centered surgeon interact with the boy.

Watching Darcy’s eyes sparkle with a slowly-growing admiration as she watched Stephen and Andrew, Bucky decided that he would change his plans any day of the week if it meant he got to keep these three around. And, best of all, it appeared that they all felt the same way about him too.

[youaremynewdream]

See You Later

Final Fantasy XV Noctis/Prompto College AU words: 1750

Prompto finally asked Noct out on a date...

...but now it's 45 minutes past the hour and Noct is pretty sure Prompto has stood him up.

quick light college au first date for my boys. Just a wee bit of angst mixed in for funsies. <3

Read on AO3 here!

He was late.

Again.

Not that this is anything out of the ordinary for Prompto, being late on rainy evenings is almost commonplace at this point. But normally when you make plans with someone, specifically plans that are supposed to be enjoyable, you should at least attempt to arrive on time.

Alas, the clock on the wall of the restaurant ticks on, seeming to mask the quiet banter of the few patrons scattered about the dining room.

Noct's thumb traces circles around the rim of his half empty water glass in place of conversation. The condensation from the melted ice had already made their way to encircle the bottom of the glass, no doubt adding another ring to the faded fake wood of the table.

Noct shifts in the peeling vinyl booth, the uncomfortable sound of sweat on leather making its presence known too loudly in his ears, clashing with the lilting folk song humming on the speakers above him.

He sighs. Where could he be? He had anticipated maybe up to 15 minutes of tardiness, for loose shoelaces or a forgotten wallet were a common occurrence in Prompto's life. However, according to his phone it was now 19:47, much later than some typical clumsiness would cause, at least not without a quick text or phone call.

Without realizing it, Noct begins to furiously tap the table with his free hand, alerting the waitress of his now nearly empty glass.  She quietly makes her way over with the pitcher, a small knowing smile painted on her lips.

"More water?" she asks politely.

Noct nods, not looking up from his phone on the table.  The waitress fills his glass and pauses, asking, "Have you decided to order something? Perhaps an appetizer while you wait?"  She hovers for a moment as Noct clicks off the screen with a sigh and glances at the menu.

"Uh... I guess I'll have an order of white rice... and some chicken skewers for now?"  Noct's fingers curl around the edges of the menu. He's not giving up yet. Releasing his menu would only confirm that he didn't think his date wasn't coming.

Writing his order down on a small pad of paper she smiles, a little relieved. "I'll go let the kitchen know, feel free to call me over if your er... friend shows up, alright?" she says.

Noct only responds by slightly bowing his head, unlocking the screen to open his texts once more, barely noticing her footsteps as she left him alone once more.

The texts remain unchanged.

It says delivered, not read.  His phone calls kept reaching voicemail but that didn't stop him from calling the other boy one more time.

"Hello! You've reached the phone of Prompto Argentum!  I probably didn't hear this call so leave a message or a text and I'll get back to you A S A P!"

The tone beeps and Noct hangs up instantly.  He's already left at least 4 messages, what good would another one do?

20:15

The burnt orange tiled walls reflect the streetlights that seem to burn brighter every moment outside. His appetizers arrive without a word, and he nibbles on them while he keeps swiping through the different apps on his phone, desperately trying to pass the time.

20:52

His spoon scrapes the bottom of the plate, finally resigning to eat the last grain of rice.  As the waitress comes to take his plates away, he hastily asks for more rice and a cup of coffee before she can ask him if he wants his check.

The texts still only say delivered.

Outside the light rain from earlier seems to get heavier, each drop of water pounding into the window beside him demanding its presence known.

Staring past his reflection in the window he desperately tries to find Prompto's face in the strangers that pass by, but none of them fit. Too tall, too short, a sea of black and brown hair without the golden hue his heart aches for.

They had been friends for a while now, since freshman year of college, and they were currently juniors. Noct had never been one to act on his feelings, even friendships were hard to come by for him.

But Prompto had been the one to come up to him, to introduce himself, to ask to hang out, and now, ask him out on a date. He was always warm, always welcoming, declaring his opinions to the world as soon as the right words came to mind.

He was everything Noct wasn't.

It isn't until the 3rd sip of his coffee that Noct remembers that he hates the stuff.

21:37

The waitress declares that it's last call for food from the kitchen before they close.  He orders 2 green curries to go and a refill on his coffee.

Prompto knew Noct liked him before he knew it himself. Small confessions and laughter on friendly road trips had set this path in stone.  Noct had never dated anyone, never really wanted to. But when Prompto asked, how could he say no?

Before he knew it he realized his heart flutters every time they touch, and there wasn't anyone he'd rather fall for.

But here he is, alone in a strange restaurant with coffee that tastes like crushed beetles, a singular fly that keeps returning to his plate no matter how much you wave it away, and whispering waiters who must be pitying him by now. What is happening here? Is this all a prank? Is someone going to pop out and laugh at him for even thinking he could date such a beautiful, bright person?

No, Prompto would never.  He said he would be here. He promised.

Prompto never breaks a promise.

21:58

Noct leaves two twenties on the table and walks out with a bag full of hot curry and a empty feeling in the pit in his stomach.

Outside the rain is still coming down in sheets.  Taking one last look at the street around him, Noct searches for any shimmer of gold in the darkness.  Finding nothing but grey, he puts up his umbrella and slowly makes his way towards his home.

22:31

Noct reaches his apartment relatively dry.  Under the awning he sets down the curry, shakes the water off of his umbrella, and begins to fiddle with his keys when he hears him.

"NOOOOCCCTTT!"

The familiar voice makes him turn around instantly.

Blue eyes match his and Noct doesn't pause in running out in the rain to meet him.

Without hesitation they embrace, their warmth piercing through the sharp cold. Prompto's tears mix with the raindrops as he cries out a string of apologies.  Noct hushes him.

"Prom, you're soaking wet let's get you inside okay?"  Prompto nods and they head inside.

"Noct... I'm so sorry I can explain I... I... oh Six you must hate me you must think I just ignored you gahh I'm so sorry I--"

"Prompto.  Calm down, okay." Noct tosses a towel at him and Prompto catches it midair.  Noct sighs, "Now why don't you dry off, you must be freezing." Prompto pouts, but buries his face in the towel anyway.

"Hey Prom, did you eat anything"

Still encased in the towel Prompto manages to muffle out a version of "no."  Noct blasts the curry in the microwave for a minute then plops it in front of Prompto with a fork.

"Eat."

Prompto emerges from his towel cage and his jaw drops at the sight of the food.  "Noct... you didn't have to get me anything! I was supposed to pay I was-

Noct pushes the food closer to him. "Eat. Then talk."  Prompto reluctantly takes a bite, then moans at the taste and begins to shovel it in.

Noct chuckles, "That good, huh?"

Prompto nods, " 's tha best!" He eats a few more bites then slows, the frown returning to his face.  "Noct... I really am sorry, I tried to be there on time, early even! But... well you know me... if one thing goes wrong everything else has to follow..."

Noct remains silent, waiting for the blond to continue. Prompto takes a deep breath, "I was heading out on my bike. I finally got one used, you know I've been saving up for it. I had left early to pick it up from this guy's house, I wanted to show it to you tonight!  But... I might have not thought to look at the forecast? So the rain caught me by surprise and... I don't even know how I crashed but suddenly I was spinning and then I was on the ground and it was a mess dude."

Noct stops him there, "Wait, are you okay? are you hurt??"

Holding up his arms Prompto weakly smiles, "Just scrapes and bruises, thankfully.  My phone and bike on the other hand weren't so lucky. First the police showed up, then they made me go to the hospital, and I couldn't remember your number and I had to run my way here and... Ugh. Noct..."

Prompto looks down at the ground, hiding the prickling tears tempting to spill over.  "And the entire time all I could think about was how you must have been feeling... I'd been waiting so long for this... I care about you so much and... and I've wanted to be with you and... here I am already ruining our first date.  You must think I'm awfully stupid-"

Without thinking Noct gently pulls Prompto's face to his and kisses him softly, then pulls away as quick as he leaned in.  "I... I’m sorry I just-"

Prompto cuts him off with his lips, answering the unasked question as they deepen the kiss until they finally break away with Prompto chuckling.

Noct tenses, "What... was that bad? I... I haven't really..."

Shaking his head, Prompto clarifies, "No no, it's not that, I just... ha, I can't believe that I basically stood you up on a date, and now I get free food and a kiss? I should screw up more often."

Noct smiles and joins him in laughing, "Please don't, you're going to make me age thirty years with worry for your safety."  Softening, he reaches for Prompto's hand, "I'm just glad you're alright... when you didn't respond... I didn’t know what to think but… are you sure you really are okay?"

Squeezing his hand in return Prompto smiles wider.  "Honestly Noct? I've never been better."

Noct couldn't agree more.