DON'T GIVE THE SHIBE WIFI !

roleplay starters inspired by slow burn love — lingering glances, almost-touches, and feelings that simmer for months before finally spilling over

LONGING IN THE LITTLE MOMENTS

soft looks, subtle shifts, that ache of wanting more but not daring to reach

“Why do you always look away right when I catch your eyes?”

“You keep brushing my hand. Accidentally… right?”

“You don’t have to leave yet. Stay—just a few more minutes.”

“Why does being around you feel… different?”

“I notice the way you soften around me. Even when you try not to.”

ACCIDENTAL INTIMACY

hands brushing, falling asleep near each other, warmth passed back and forth

“You’re freezing—come here. It’s just body heat… nothing else.”

“You can lean on me if you’re tired. I wouldn't mind.”

“Hold still, you’ve got something in your hair—just let me…”

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you, but… I didn’t want to move.”

“I like it when you stand close. Even if you pretend you don’t notice.”

DENIAL THAT’S OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE ELSE

everyone sees it except the two falling in love

“Why does everyone keep asking if we’re together? We’re not… right?”

“No, I wasn’t staring. I was… observing. For reasons.”

“We’re just friends. Totally normal friends who… talk every night?”

“Why does it bother you when I flirt with other people?”

“We’re close. But not that close. Unless… you want to be?”

RISING TENSION, UNKEPT DISTANCE

the space between you shrinking, breath catching, lips almost touching

“You keep stepping closer. Are you doing that on purpose?”

“Tell me to back up. If you don’t, I won’t.”

“You can’t look at me like that and expect me to think straight.”

“If you touch me again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“We’re either about to kiss or make the world’s worst decision.”

LATE NIGHTS THAT LEAD TO CONFESSIONS

quiet rooms, tired voices, guards slipping

“I shouldn’t say this, but… I feel safer with you than anyone else.”

“You’re the first person I think about in the morning. And the last at night.”

“I don’t know when it happened, but you’ve become… important.”

“Why do I only tell you the things I’m scared to say out loud?”

“Stay up with me. I don’t want this feeling to fade yet.”

FEAR OF RUINING EVERYTHING

the hesitation, the trembling, the hope

“If I told you the truth… would it ruin us?”

“I’m scared of losing what we already have.”

“I care about you too much to risk it unless you feel the same.”

“Don’t lie—there’s something between us. You feel it too.”

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll pretend none of this happened.”

FINALLY CROSSING THE LINE

the moment where holding back isn’t possible anymore

“Come here. I can’t pretend I don’t want you anymore.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to make the first move.”

“If we’re doing this… don’t pull away.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.”

“Tell me this isn’t just one moment. Tell me we’re choosing each other.”

He thinks back to the day the Doshaguma attacked Kunafa Village. He thinks of Tasheen . . . and the Hunter, and one might put two and two together that closeness provided him safety. Even in between the cold echo of pebbles scrabbling down crevices, and the occasional drip of water, Nata doesn't feel danger here.

They'd see soon enough whether his gut feeling was right. "P . . . pirates? You mean, like the ones that raid the seas in storybooks, right? But we're nowhere near any oceans."

He supposed there could be sand pirates though. The supply teams delivered goods via a sandship that frequently traveled between East and West. Nata doesn't know if they would have buried treasure, or even anything valuable in these tunnels, but he does humor Moomin with one speculation.

"Mhm. My Pappa sailed the seas as a young man. He's been working on his memoirs ever since I was a baby. One of the stories he told me was about the time he fought back pirates, then stole their map to find secret treasure." Smiling, Moomin recalled those warm stories, those nights curled by the fire with stars in his eyes.

"We could find the ocean at the end of these tunnels. I heard water not too far back from here." Usually water led out, or came in to the caves from the outside. If they followed the water, perhaps they could find the exit more quickly?

But then Nata exclaims, causing the white creature's ears to stiffen bolt upright along with his tufted tail. He only relaxes when seeing the shout was out of excitement rather than fear.

"Oh. Okay. Want to lead the way, then?" Taking his trusty pocket knife from his pocket, Moomin beams with a determined quirk of his brow. "I'll watch your back. Don't worry!"

【🕯️】 —THE first thing he heard was her footsteps, loud and clumsy against the hardwood floor. The deceptively fast chef's own quick lumbering footfalls could be heard approaching her. He pursued her into another room, where the sound stopped.

———-> GLOWING red eyes slowly scanned the room. Holding the massive cleaver over his shoulder for an easier burden, he carefully began roaming the room to patrol. He looked behind book cases, kicked over a barrel to test if anything was in there, but found nothing.

Heather knew she only had so much time before the chef inevitably found her. She wasn't small enough to hide against the table itself, like the kids in movies sometimes did. It was only the white tablecloth that kept her safe at that moment.

The pocket radio was switched off, light not shining at all. In near complete darkness, the teen could only breathe, counting down the seconds before the monster found her.

When it came to that, what could she do? Could she maybe dash around the side of him when he reaches under the table? Maybe quickly crawl to another table nearby?

Her mind spun, body stock frozen. Waiting. Heart racing in her ears. Waiting for those lumbering steps to find her spot...

Ah. Centuries, the girl said. There is the truth of it, just as Noriko expected and predicted.

"The years have been kind to you. Not a wrinkle. Not a gray. Yes, I know your type. So used to the mediocrity of life. Things cannot be better, because surely they would have been made so by now, in all this time that you've walked the earth. Foolish and insignificant as these people are, there is some grace in that blissful ignorance. Immortals begrudgingly envy the mundane, that they have the luxury to be boring."

It isn't lost on her that she speaks to the immortal as if she herself is not immortal as well. There is one crucial difference, however. "It is a quality I am still in my early days enough to recognize. If I fail, I fear I could end up as barren as you."

"Mm. Well, your question of the the 'miracle'." Noriko said, switching gears and changing the subject.

"Every soul will be insolated from harm. A perfectly designed state where entropy no longer matters. Suns can flare and fade. The world, this outside world, can grow cold. It matters not. All existing life will be safe, fine. Even the Incubators will exist in their own personal and private reality. Isolationist. Unable to interact with others, or have others interact with them. A closed loop."

The little, barely-there smile vanished. The witch was rendered silent, speechless. For a long while, she said nothing, just peering out over Mitakihara City.

So many lives. So many stories. Thousands, no, millions of lives that dreamed, all that Noriko seemed to declare unnecessary. In any other story, it might have been a villain's goal.

Hazily, Bernkastel recalled a smiling, cruel face smeared with blood. She quickly smushed it down like a bug.

"Ah," The witch began, simply. "I see."

The cold wind tussled her dress, the Witch of Miracles casting her face in a swept motion, side to side, zeroing in on random faces. On girls holding hands, laughing as they left their schools extra-curricular classes. Couples arguing over where to get dinner. An old man hobbling alone to a park to feed the ducks.

"You're even worse than I thought," Bernkastel finally continued, lifting her head to stare coldly upon the other girl. "You don't want to save humanity. You merely want to preserve it." A distinct difference.

"You speak of safety as though it possesses value in itself. But safety isn't a purpose. It's just a condition. A bird kept forever within a cage is safe. A corpse buried beneath the earth is safe. What you are describing isn't life liberated from suffering— It's life liberated from existing at all."

Bernkastel knew despair, knew centuries spent clawing at a future that refused to arrive. She remembered the temptation. The fantasy that somewhere, there existed a Fragment where nobody had to lose. Nobody had to cry. The fantasy was seductive. That was why it appeared at the end of every tragedy.

"Even so, you interest me. Know why, Noriko?" The witch tilted her head. "Your certainty. But I wish to know just how certain you are. So... When one of these preserved souls decides they no longer wish to remain inside your perfect design…"

Her face split into a smile, cruel, wider than anything she had shown the magical girl before. A giggle escaped the witch. "What happens then?"

"Yes, well..." Noriko thought about her next words carefully. She recognized that this was not her Madoka. There were bound to be deviations in personality, shifts in motive.

"I believe that the Puella Magi system pushes people to their brink. It illuminates a side of themselves that no one would never lay eyes on otherwise. Whether it is their true nature, or something new born in them from the tiniest kernel of hope."

"For some, that brings out selfless acts... displays of martyrdom for the sake of some perceived greater good." She says as she envisions Madoka Kaname's final moments, praying to banish the very notion of the Witch with her hope and her light.

"For others, it brings out that frantic, final desperation to grasp that which you were led to believe unattainable." She says as she pictures Homura Akemi grabbing at the Law of Cycles in a flailing bid to secure everything that mattered to her.

Her attention turned back to this Madoka, in this moment.

Madoka supposed, deep down, that she was only the way she was now because of the magical girl system. Otherwise, she might have stayed the plain, uninteresting, self-loathing girl she always had been. Never capable of more. Always left behind, watching her friends go into battles she could not assist with.

What could she be now? Something new. Something better than the Madoka she was born as.

The looper was quiet, thinking over her options. Weighing them, before she looked up at the sky above the school rooftop they had met on. The blue hue was brilliant, white clouds dancing.

"I think... I'd want to be like Mami-san," Within her own mind, she remembered the day Mami had rescued her and Sayaka from the Rose Garden Witch. The brilliant golden glow, the radiant smile. Beautiful confidence.

"If I could inspire others and save people like she did, then I wouldn't be so useless."

❛ don't worry about me , i'm , uh , i'm used to burning the midnight oil so to speak. ❜

grace dismisses simon's question with a wave of his hand & a laugh. he should sleep at some point , especially given that such long hours in the lab were unnecessary for the most part. the taumoeba were breeding just fine now , & they hadn't tried to make another break for it , which is an added bonus , & the astrophage is otherwise unremarkable.

he's just bored.

❛ & don't worry about rocky , he's harmless. it's just a thing on his planet — they watch each other sleep to protect them. you get used to it after a while. ❜

grace may not know what simon's been through prior to joining them on the hail mary , but in his scientific opinion , whatever it was was more than enough hardship for a lifetime ; grace didn't intend to make his life any harder. that & ... simon isn't exactly a scientist. even if he wanted to help , it'd be ... a little difficult to get him reasonably up to speed. besides , everything was fine for now.

mid-stretch , grace pauses to watch the way simon shifts his gaze , tilting his head in the same manner. he lets his arms fall to his sides , shaking his head slightly.

Old habits die hard for the both of them, it seemed. Simon knew, deep in his heart of hearts, that Grace and Rocky were both entirely harmless. It just stood to make the once-convict wonder how such a softhearted guy like Grace wound up in the depths of space alone in the first place.

Yes, the scientist was smart. He was well equipped to navigate the never-ending reaches of their galaxy, to create miracles to save the stars that had once been figured dead.

The sterile light of the lab creates a halo around the blonde's head, and Simon softens. Slowly, like a shelter dog wandering a new home for its first time, the dark haired man crept closer to the two engineers.

He sat down on one of the stools, remaining hand resting tentatively on the table. He can't help but be curious, dark eyes peering at the sample that wiggled and breathed under Grace's microscope.

"Astro-what...?"