#this was a fun prompt tysm caity

[shirogane-oushirou]

🩷,💌, and 🎁 for the emoji asks? :D

tysm caitie for the ask!!! ☺✨💕

gonna go for a change of pace and talk about my main man oushirou, my beloved freak of almost 15 years. gives him a little kissy. mwah.

🩷 for a headcanon about f/o.

the desire to seem non-threatening is what got him to start experimenting with things like his looks and his weird-funny-guy personality... then he crossdressed for the Funnies once and realized it was fun, actually... then he started being a little more flamboyant because it came naturally to him... and this was all in the gender-rigid environment of the all-boys-except-tsukiko seigetsu academy.

so as soon as he graduates to go to college, get an internship, enter the journalism field, travel all over the world... he realizes how even HIS view of the limits of expression are... well... limited. he feels more free to try new things, wear bold patterns, paint his nails, do his hair in even more interesting styles. as he learns new languages he also learns all new ways to describe gender and expression and sexuality. in the end, he realizes doesn't really need defined labels; he's simply oushirou, and he's going to look beautiful and handsome and charming and sexy and flirty for anyone and everyone who's willing to give him their time.

when he shows up at the 10 year seigetsu reunion, wearing a zebra stripe suit with polkadot tie, red aviators, black nails, and an intricately styled hair-do, it catches everyone a little off guard... but they quickly lean into the bold changes when they see just how much more comfortable and self-assured he seems.

(tl;dr: i hc him as genderqueer and pansexual lol. and he has a VERY nonbiney fashion sense ksjnkjnsf which is canon but like. they didn't INTEND for it to be typical nonbinary fashion, they just wanted him to be a little weirdo man. no, sorry, i'm The Oushirou Guy (tm) and i declare he's Gender.)

💌 for a snippet of a conversation we had.

(ngl i'm extremely brain empty, so i'm actually going repurpose and rewrite part of a prompt i did in... uh... 2012????? jfc i'm a selfshipping grandpa.)

“Kehe! What, are you afraid to show a bit of leg, sweetheart? You know I’ve already seen them before right?”

The door closes, and the red-head strides over to the bed and, with a grunt, plops himself down where Ro’s feet end under the covers.

“Doesn’t mean you just get to see 'em for free, you know! B'sides, if I ran around half-naked all the time I don't think it'd stay entertaining for long.”

“Oh, you doubt the power of a true pervert? Kuhihi~”

He begins to move, and Ro closes their eyes and tenses, preparing for the usual onslaught of wriggling fingers and wet, sloppy, gross kisses...

The weight on the bed shifts, and two warm arms wrap around their waist.

A quick kiss at the corner of their eye.

“…Did you get a lot of work done?”

Their shoulders relax, and a sigh escapes them as they look up into his face, much closer now than it was before. “Enough…I guess. It’s hard to say at this point.” The work of a freelancer is never done, after all.

“So then,” his hands slowly, gently travel up and down their arms, “how about a nice, relaxing, eight-to-ten-hour sleep break with me, hmm?” He moves his head to the crook of their neck, nuzzling into it. Ro brings one hand to his long hair and begins running their fingers through, the other rubbing his shoulders and back. “Just you, me, and this big ol’ comfy bed. Ah, and your pants-less legs, of course~!” He grins against their neck.

“As long as you don’t look at them, mister.”

“Oh c'mooooon, don’t pull the ‘mister’ thing on me right before bed! It makes me feel so oooold and formal. You’re so mean, sir.” He looks up from his comfortable neck-crook long enough to wipe a fake tear from his eye and pout at their serious face.

A few seconds pass, the two staring intensely at each other, before Ro huffs and breaks into a small smile. They lean forward and give Oushirou a light peck on the lips, and as they lean back to lie on the bed, his lips eagerly follow theirs, wanting more.

🎁 for a gift f/o has given s/i (or vice versa).

he travels all the time, all over the world, so he tries to bring back little trinkets from all of the places he's been. just tiny painted keepsakes. i keep them displayed on a shelf as a reminder of just how much he's been able to do, how far he's been able to go, and how many people he's met.

and while bringing back cooked food with him would be... difficult, he does sometimes bring back interesting recipes from those who are willing to share. when we meet up again, he buys some ingredients, borrows the kitchen, and cooks something to allow me to experience a small taste of the places he went to.

[adamarks]

Okay okay so hear me out. #33 On a post-it note. BUT make it a fast food napkin 👀👀. Can give more details if you’d like (:

i love the stark stark stark contrast between how you interpreted this and how i did. our minds our too powerful.

and now for: sticky notes but wait no it’s napkins. 👀

Simon skidded into the firehouse only two minutes late, which was a bloody miracle, considering the shitshow his morning had been thus far.

His alarm hadn’t gone off (thank god he has the internal clock of a rooster). He’d accidentally elbowed Baz in the face in his rush to get out of bed, earning him a smack and a few pissy words from the husband first thing. As he’d been brushing his teeth and taking a leak (multitasking master), his hand had spasmed and the toothbrush taken an unfortunate morning swim (maybe not a master).

It was then that he should’ve called off and gone back to bed.

But oh no, he’d trudged bravely on, determined to take the day by its horns and be the matador he was destined to be.

In the kitchen, he encountered his next set of trials: a broken coffee pot, no more frozen waffles, no more sticky notes, and a brutally stubbed toe. Again, he valiantly pushed through, grabbing a piece of fruit Baz makes them buy in a last ditch effort for a healthy lifestyle, treading through the pain of a possibly broken toe (it wasn’t broken), and making it out the door.

Of course, the tube was a twenty-eight ring circus with no ringmaster in sight. Simon lost his pass, got the (not) broken toe stepped on, and to top it all off, it was running a solid eleven minutes late. Simon had been, at this point, gravely considering a dirt nap.

But finally, finally, finally, he’d made it to work in one piece. (Physically. Mentally, his sanity was reduced to a trail of breadcrumbs leading from point home to point fire station.)

Like a zombie for want of brains, he made his way through his morning, chugging the available coffee and waiting for disaster to strike. Until mid-morning, when he received a text from the old spouse: an image followed by:

Why.

Bc I need them for breakfast

I mean the method of communication

Oh we’re out of sticky notes too

U should get some of those whike ur at it

Is that ketchup

Ya couldn’t find tape

Simon, that’s repulsive.

It’s just ketchup on a napkin

You are cleaning this when you get home

):

fine

Also, I love you too.

(:

The image, as mentioned above, was of the Pitch house’s refrigerator. A leftover napkin from the other night’s takeaway was haphazardly plastered onto the door by a large dab of ketchup. Written on it in purple sharpie was a mess of chicken scratch that read:

Baz get some more eggos plz we’re out

-simon

Ps I love you have a good day :)