#tempcsts

    it feels somewhat odd, if he’s honest. new, if anything. they’d been at this numerous times before, yet this time, it’s more nerve-wracking than the advisor had hoped for. it’s a lot more difficult as well, the prospect of a date--- one of many, ought to have been something to relax with. ought to be something comfortable for both parties involved, yet here ignis stands, brows furrowed into a frown as if to ... figure out where to even begin. how to begin, even?

Send me a “ 💞 ” and I will talk about a blog I adore

@tempcsts​ / @stcrshell​ 

AK. Probably the first person who interacted w/ me on here that didn’t know me from one of my previous blogs. We started by throwing memes back and forth and the kisses meme happened and she messaged me to ask / clarify some stuff. I’ve mentioned it before but I went into FFXV not shipping anything and then. We bounced a few ideas back and forth, put together the first thread and ho boy. FEELS. The kiss thread and then the sharing the bed thread. AND EVERYTHING ELSE. Be it asks or threads, they’ve grown together so much. And even w/ the bumps in the road, it’s still so much joy to see where things go. 

OKAY OKAY. 

You want a soft bean? Then look no further. It’s so easy to talk ooc w/ AK and honestly, I’m glad that we started doing it. From muse stuff to just everyday things to anything in-between. Like that sweet Pin.teres.t board that makes me weep every time I look @ it. And, like. All the muses!! It’s interesting seeing her take on both Gladio and Prom and to see the differences between hers and mine. Even tho our current interactions Hurt sdfghjkl.

@sagcfire

SWEET POTATO MASH. Not so innocent potato bc I got dragged into Promnis straight away w/ the promise of cute fanart and interactions lmao. We will have a Proper Thing™ going on at some point. and Come camp in my inbox. Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been writing together and those are still true pffft. 

I lov. Mash bc she’s just like. Look @ this cute thing. and it’s fanart and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. L isten, I love when people link me things bc it’s usually the other way around. :’D Even if it’s not fanart, I’ll still appreciate it. 

Also, that sweet sweet fanart she draws. Like holy moly, I only caught a stream once but ngl I was :0 for the majority of it bc Talent and Patience. Honestly, I would have cried midway through the drawing. :’)

I’M CACKLING

don’t cackle at me mr. ‘i’ll just punch the ice’

So…that’s his deal.

Gladio had gotten close, stiflingly so lately. She appreciated it for the most part. She’d made a lot of enemies before the Eternal Night, many of them still held the grudge, and she had far fewer shadows to hide in. It was nice to have a shield. The last few months hadn’t been easy on either of them. Suddenly she was in the light, working to rebuild Insomnia, getting the computer systems and infrastructure back to work so they could start rebuilding some kind of society. And for Gladio? The wounds of Noctis’ dead were still fresh. He thought he was being subtle, thought he was hiding it well, but there were signs that he was struggling to figure out where to go next.

And then the assassins started coming for her head. Old grudges indeed.

She stepped aside and let him do his thing. The greatsword ran through the ex-hunters hired to kill her. Some were still alive, they would be questioned so she could make a visit to whoever hated her so much. But many of the bodies laying across the floor were by her doing. Sombra was not a delicate flower, some pampered royal to be protected. Did she understand he was hurting? Yeah, she’d been there too. Was she going to allow herself to be his emotional crutch while he deals with the burden off loss though? Hell no.

“I didn’t know I reminded you so much of His Majesty.” Stern his face and set was his brow, but she sees his expression falter just a moment as she closes the distance between them. Shame. Sombra crossed her arms, looked him down despite the height difference, and in her voice was a cold edge,” Look, I get it’s been tough on you. I know what it’s like to loose someone you love, and I know it’s confusing when someone who’s been a big part of your life is suddenly gone forever.”

IM LAUGHING

    it’s clear by the surprise on both ignis’ and gladio’s face that the action hadn’t been expected. let alone thought of possible. the situation certainly didn’t call for it--- didn’t call for the advisor’s frustration and anger to get to the point in which physical means had to have been taken and yet, here he stood, hand still clenched into a fist even as he pulled back, eyes wide and trying to make sense of what--- why he’d resorted to this of all things. 

        “gladio, i---”

     on gladio, no less.

    which is what had made the situation that much worse, come think of it, really. the shield’s the last person ignis would have wished this upon and yet the longer he stares, the more realization kicks in--- hands are dropped, fingers splayed wide in a form of surrender and if he were paying attention, he’d notice the slight trembles that had taken over as well. instead, his gaze focuses on gladio, the sickening sound with which the shield sets back his nose enough to have the advisor wince and shrink a bit under the other man’s full height. all in all he deserves the treatment. hell, ignis would deserve the same treatment in turn, 

    though somehow the words that flow out of gladio’s mouth end up feeling much, much worse.

             [ 'don’t fucking touch me like that ever again.' ]

Astrals, he's usually better than this at keeping his composure. He's usually better at keeping himself in check, shaking off the overwhelming urge to scream until his throat is raw and all his emotions are free. Better better better. He's never lost his temper quite like this. Never around others. That's why he has vices, why he clings to the toxic chemicals that burn his throat and lungs every time he smokes. A precaution of sorts when things become too much in order to avoid snapping at people who don't deserve it.

And now.

Red. He's seen red when Gladio attempted to comfort him in his own, rougher, way. He's seen crimson the moment there was a hand even inches away from face, a hand that wanted nothing more than to cup an overheating cheek and try to unclench that painfully tight jaw. A gesture meant to help only to be rejected in perhaps one of the cruelest ways -- a slap to the face, one hard enough to be felt even after the contact has been broken. Pinpricks in the blond's hand and a tingling sensation on the Shield's cheek.

The worst of all is probably that Prompto can see the shock. Recognizes that such reaction out of himself was never expected. And he doesn't stop. His mind is going a mile an hour, thoughts blurring together while his mouth moves and forms words. He's shouting his frustrations at Gladio, nearing that damn point where he can feel himself tearing up because of it but stubbornly fighting it back. Because he wants to get the other to understand that he's tired of being treated like this. That he can handle things on his own, has done so for as long as he can goddamn remember.

Arms raise, palms open in surrender and there's agreement to his words. For a moment he expects to be listened to, prompted to go on about what makes him angry. Or, instead, to be treated roughly, unlike he's made of glass -- a punch in return or something. But no. What follows is the complete opposite. Maybe even worse. Gladio turns around and leaves, slams the door closed with a little more strenght than needed without offering a second thought.

"I DIDN'T TELL YOU TO LEAVE!" yelled pointlessly at the closed door, hands balling themselves into fists at his sides. This. This isn't what he wanted! He hasn't said anything about the other leaving, what the hell?!

It has to be the anger that still courses through his veins like fire that fuels him to follow after the Shield. His footsteps are heavy, accentuated by his boots but also by the way he presses himself into every step. It has to be for he's carrying himself unlike before -- back straight, shoulders pulled back, golden eyebrows knitted into a frown. He looks like he means business. Or is looking for trouble.

The night's chill has him shiver for a moment before he steps further. It gets a hold of his neck, strangles the words before they can even reach his mouth but not enough for him to swallow them back down. "Is this your solution?!" tone more accusing than Gladio has probably ever heard Prompto use before "Just - Just leaving like this?! Face me!"

Breath sucked in when calloused hands ghost over waist, Prompto can’t help but avert his gaze to the side. It’s little moments like these in which insecurities sneak in and gang up on him. Has he put weight back on? Or is it his mind playing cruel tricks on himself and making him think he’s got a pudgy stomach when that’s not the case? And what does Gladio think when he runs hands over pale skin? Is he put off by the softness that he meets before it transitions into stiffness? 

Over the chest then back down on the sides. An exhale on the return trip, sapphires daring to steal a glance upwards. And, oh, what he sees is so far from what he expects. Fear drums a heavy rhythm in his chest, almost suffocating and deafening, as he searches those ambers for any hint of the very emotions that he dreads seeing -- disgust, contempt, annoyance. But no. Instead, he’s met with love and kindness and care. He’s met with a gentle smile, with adoring looks.