one holy sock (
oneholysock) wrote in
bakerstreet2025-05-18 12:45 am
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midnight texting

The Midnight Texting Meme It's the middle of the night and you're trying to catch some z's — or brooding alone in the alleys, as one does — when your phone dings and suddenly a stranger or a friend is texting you. What could they possibly want at this hour? Is it important? Stupid? Are they drunk or maybe just needy? ● Post with your character's name and canon on the subject line, indicate preferences as needed |
no subject
You're apologizin' before you even poke fun?
[ olruggio's settled at his spell desk, up in the loft story of his atelier. the hammock by his desk looks very obviously slept-in, despite the bed neatly done up on the first floor by the window. he tips his head back to look at qifrey over his shoulder, almost upside-down. there's a tip of a smile to olruggio's mouth in spite of the exhaustion etching his features. he's clearly pleased to have qifrey's company.
he shifts around until he can fit his soles together to activate his sylph shoes, and he floats gently down to the lower level. he looks qifrey up and down, as if searching for so much as a papercut. then olruggio exhales through his nose and shrugs. ]
Don't look too contrite t' me. C'mere, here's fine-- [ and he pushes some stray notebooks off a low table and sits at one of its accompanying cushions. ]
no subject
[ there he is, alighting on Qifrey's level: Olruggio, looking as though the sleepless night hasn't yet dissipated him. still smiling. ]
But for the purposes of tea, I believe just one teaspoon's worth of jam ought to do the trick.
[ an estimation borne of brief observation of others. however -- ]
Unless you're feeling a little more unorthodox tonight.
[ he casts a searching glance at the notebooks cast from the busy table, their prior conversation in mind, before crouching himself at Olruggio's low table and placing the tea and jam (with attendant spoon) with some ceremony before Olruggio. ]
no subject
[ bullshit he lets qifrey get away with SO MUCH ]
Tea can be as sweet as it wants t'be, though.
[ and yet, something sticks uncomfortably between his ribs at the mention of being more unorthodox. a subconscious unease at the mere idea of being caught toeing outside the lines.
olruggio watches qifrey's gaze track the notebooks, and he's as easy to read as they are. still, he makes him sweat it out a bit-- picks up the spoon, tucks it into the jar of jam, dips the overfull (but still singular) teaspoon into his tea and stirs. lifts the cup all the way to his mouth and pauses just before taking a sip, blue eyes peeking up through his thick lashes. ]
Still feelin' nosy, then?
no subject
[ but already he is moving into an attentive, cross-legged sit beside Olruggio, interest sharp in an eye. ] But so long as you're still offering: I couldn't be feeling any nosier about you. It isn't every day I get to know you better.
[ he watches the tea's transformation, fingers idling on the reams of paper, handwritten notes obscure to all but Olly. ] Perhaps I start us off easy. How do you like the tea?