#(*interaction)

Gyro Zeppeli, flaunts his golden grills proudly - letting you know right away that this is an offer that cannot be ignored, not any longer anyways. Unwrapping his arm from you, and latching his excited fingers onto the edge of his hat to flip it off his head for a little bit of style, as well as taking it off for you to pat. A chuckle quickly escapes his lips at the warm act of affection, it’s about time you return the love. 

“Do as you will, young little lad. Go on ahead ~”

Of course, you’d cough slightly, he’s forgetting one tiny thing... and it’s not till he hums in response, before the realization hits him. As you wish, Gyro bends down a tad bit so it’s easier to reach him.

The Coquette

You are a pro at playing the age old game of hard to get. Your flirting style runs hot and cold, giving just enough to keep them chasing you. Independent and self-sufficient, you don't need any one person to make you complete. And that independence is exactly what makes people pursue you.

I have no idea about this... I generally don’t spend my time (or what little I have) flirting or being “seductive”.

Bastille: Dash! Hi! I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to bump into you, really-

Dash: I’m sorry, but--wait. Bastille?

Prosciutto occupies the velvet-red lounge chair, just located right beside the king-size bed you’ve been situated in for an hour or two. He has been there for quite a while now actually, a book with a title you aren’t able to read through the dim light illuminating from a lamp, tucked carefully in his methodical fingers as he flipped through crisp pages. 

To shift his gaze on over to you from his original focus is already incredibly irksome.

“ ... What now, bambina/o - do you also want to be read a bed time-a story as well?” And though he deadpans with a callous tone, something usual and not out of character, he’d been almost adamant on closing shut the book in one swift motion. Staring at you for a minute or two, having an internal conflict on whether or not he should join you or not ... 

And he does.

Prosciutto manages to slip silently under the covers - leaving some space in between you two, you’re a little taken back that you didn’t have to beg him even more to do so ... But you do not complain. you’re just satisfied with having him right beside, feeling his legs slowly entangle with yours ... 

Josuke Higashikata coughs awkwardly, a hand placed directly atop your head so you could stop bouncing in excitement at the thought - a faint blush dusting his cheeks at the thought of him sitting down somewhere with his messy bed hair so you had easier access, he is plenty of aware of his height. 

“I ... I would like that, hon,” he murmurs, almost inaudibly, “though, I really hope you know what you’re doing ...”

He’s never let anyone style his hair before - not in a while at least, and he couldn’t help himself from feeling a tad bit nervous on letting someone else but him touch up his hair ... but, Josuke knows that you mean well, and can probably do it just as nice.