#namescidney

He never had a hiking buddy before. He always said hello to his neighbors when he went for a run but never did any of them go with him.

Send ‘slurred words’ to hear my character describe yours whilst ridiculously drunk!

“You ever see like.. the sun?” Prompto’s entire body has turned the consistency of an overcooked noodle, and he was leaning on a bar stool like it was his only lifeline to this mortal world, a drink still in hand which he took a hefty sip from and then held out for it to be refilled.

He’d lost count along the way, but he hadn’t been counting. “And like, it’s fucking bright and you’re all squinty and mad at it ‘cause you’ve just come out of the shade and you’re just… blinded?”

“She’s like that.” His lips quirk into the most fond smile, slightly lopsided though it may be. The flush on his face is darker from the alcohol and the subject matter, and his glass grows heavier in his hand as it’s refilled.

“You breathe near her and you’re blessed and you know this ‘cause the air tastes kinda stale, that weird garage-y smell but it works and you get all warm and happy inside and do and say stupid stuff but she’s so worth the embarassment–”

“–I’m not worthy to stand near her or speak near her or breathe near her—”

If the saying is ‘two sheets to the wind’, Prompto is currently an entire bed in a hurricane levels of drunk.

(Hugs for Noct | Always accepting, all the hugs)

“Gaahhhh, whhhyyyyyy?”

Oh, the torture.

Noct attempts to stiff arm her away, though the effort to escape seems more performative than genuine. It’s probably safe to assume he doesn’t actually mind, even if he is set on being a toddler about it.

Finally, he hugs her back. “Okay? Is that what you’re after?”