useofcuriosity | PSL Box

Entry tags:

psl,
rp

PSL Box

Want to play a PSL or a Prompt? Me too! Lets DO IT. Give a prompt, a word, a picture. Or, start a scene with a fancy au. I'll tag you! It's neat! It's fun! GO JOE.

Examples:

Everyone shift to the left (your character is a werewolf? Now they're a banshee. Or a hunter. Whatever!)
Nogitsune Stuff
Grey's Anatomy Universe
Otherwordly

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, like I said. I don't think you're perfect. Great, sure. Awesome, even. Who would want perfect? No one can live up to that." Finally parking outside a restaurant. It's not the best restaurant, sort of in between okay and amazing. But it's not fast food, and it's not a bar.

"No, you don't. And you don't put pressure on me to be perfect." And it would seem, she has been with someone who has. The choice of restaurant seems almost incidental, though the company she's keeping is not.

"So if you don't think you deserve me, what are you hoping to get out of this?"

"A friend would be nice. Everyone needs friends." And then he makes a face, because he realizes how much he sounds like a Hallmark card in that moment.

That makes her smile. "You want to be friends with me?" She sounds skeptical, in an amused way.

"Sure?" Glancing at her. "I have it on good authority that I am an amazing friend."

"So if we're still friends, is this still a date?" she queries. Which, even if it isn't, she still waits in the passenger seat for him to come around and open the door.

He looks at her for a moment before getting out of the car, and coming around. "Oh no. It's definitely a date."

She hops out of the jeep once he opens the door, her head tilted inquisitively. "So we're friends. Going on a date. Well, no one said we couldn't confuse the laws of interpersonal connection." She flashes a smile at him. "I knew you were an out-of-the-box thinker."

"That's me. I am a regular dating Dali." Flashing her a grin, and offering her his arm again.

"I feel like I should be saying something clever and flirtacious about surrealism and brushstrokes and melting clocks, but nothing is coming to mind." She slides her hand onto his arm adding playfully, "Maybe I'm not as smart as you think I am."

"Maybe." Grinning at her as they head inside. "Maybe I just know more about surrealism than you do."

"Stiles Stilinski, surgical intern by day, art connoisseur by night?" she proposes with a laugh. "Should I ask you to draw me like one of your French girls?"

"Oh, only if you think said french girls look great with horribly mismatched eyes."

"Maybe I should draw you sometime," she counters impishly. "Like one of my French girls." She's curious about the restaurant but only passingly so; she's much more interested in the conversation. "I've been told I'm a pretty decent artist."

"Oh, we could do that." He smiles at her. "I'd like that." Oh, of course he would.

The restaurant is nice enough. It's not fancy, no reservations needed. But it's not a Bennigans either.

"One, could you actually sit still that long? And two, you do realize the aforementioned French girls were naked?"

Her eyes flick up and down briefly. She might be undressing you with her eyes, Stiles.

"One...probably not." He is pretty hyperactive. "And two, yes, I've seen Titanic."

Ever so casually, "Ever seen The Notebook? It's pretty much my favorite movie ever." Once they're seated, she orders a mojito and leans back in her chair. "You know, I still can't quite figure out what you find so attractive about me in particular. And I don't mean that to fish. There are plenty of good looking, smart people in the program. To be entirely honest I'm surprised that one of the other girls didn't get her crap in gear and ask you out before now. Erica, or Malia, maybe."

"Love the Notebook." What? He does. And don't think that doesn't have Scott in hysterics, because it does. "Malia has her own stuff to deal with. And Erica is...terrifying." And with Boyd, he's pretty sure. "I like how dedicated you are. And don't say that everyone is, because even if that's true it's not like you."

"Erica is a little terrifying, isn't she?" Lydia agrees, but can't help chuckling about it. "Are you entirely sure she's with Boyd? Because a little bird told me that she's been spending a lot of time loitering near the on call room whenever Cora Hale decides to make an appearance. She's been hogging orthopedics; I heard she gets a gleam in her eye anytime anyone even says the word 'amputation'."

Then, "Really? You love The Notebook?" She sounds almost girlishly hopeful for a moment.

"Really." He honestly would not be surprised. And he'll gladly trade any of his ortho rounds to Erica, if she wants them. All the better to stick where he wants to be. "Maybe that's why Boyd's been hanging with Issac so much..."

And a grin. "Of course I did. Movie more than the book, though."

"Could be." she muses, adding, "Of course, it's Erica and I'm pretty sure as long as it feels good, the genitalia involved are incidental." Look at them, gossipping about co-workers like a pair of besties.

She's unable to keep from smiling, though. "You keep surprising me. What would you have been if you decided not to be a doctor?"

See, he told her they felt connected. To him, anyway. "Oh, hm. Law enforcement, maybe. My dad's a sheriff, and I've always kind of had a head for 'mysteries'. What about you?"

"Mathematics." she says instantly and then amends, "Or maybe astrophysics. Quantum mechanics are kind of a guilty pleasure of mine." Well, that and shoes.

"And you think you're not smarter than the rest of our class?" Grinning.

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