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Basil could dare say he took a little pride in the fact he'd startled poor Milo. He hid his faint grin behind his stack of books, watching him ease up as it faded from his features. He wasn't quite sure if it was caused by the fact the boy was so invested in his work or his mastered.sneaking skills, but he'd prefer to say it was the latter. He took a glance at the papers that weren't covered in creases, mirroring his strained smile when he was addressed.
He returned his attention back to him, quick to shake his head. "Oh, no, I'm quite able." His reply was with a dismissive tone, and he shifted the weight of the books more to his left side so he could see the handwriting more clearly. "...Latin, mm?" He didn't bring his gaze back to him, seeming more interested in his work. "Not too popular here, people usually stop at Spanish." His eyes left the paper once he reached the bottom, his grin returning with a little smugness behind it. "Turpe mihi videtur."
When Nerds Collide || Basil & Milo
As he wrote, Milo was completely invested in his work. So much so that he didn’t even notice the curious brunette move over to him, until said brunette was right at his side. The sight of the hand stretching over in the corner of his eye started him significantly, and he almost jumped from his chair. Fortunately for Milo, he didn’t fall, but instead caused his chair to wobble slightly as he momentarily leaned himself away from the stranger. His heart thudded furiously in his chest as he stared up at Basil. It took a few moments to realise what was going on, and what exactly Basil was doing. When he realised that Basil wasn’t a threat, and was in fact trying to be helpful, he relaxed considerably. Dropping his tensed shoulders, he looked up at Basil, trying to paste a smile on his face. The smile was awkward and certainly forced, but it was the best he could do given the fact that his heart still raced.
“Oh! Uhm… thanks!” He tried to sound friendly and honestly thankful, as he really was thankful. The piece of paper wasn’t dire to him, and it wasn’t as if he needed it. In fact he was just going to throw it out as soon as he got to the waste bin! Still, the stranger had gone to the effort to pick it up, despite the fact that he seemed to be struggling with his own load of books, and for that Milo was grateful. “Are you alright? Need a hand?” His eyes went up and down the books Basil carried, and was honestly surprised that he hadn’t dropped them by now.
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Basil took an occasional glance back at the young man, observing his... style? If that was that word for it. He pursed his lips a little, and attempted to ignore his peer as he hung another pair of slacks he deemed clean enough over his arm. He was fully prepared to make off with his oversized sweaters as well as the pants he would surely need a belt with, but his lack of attention on the man caused him to go down the aisle he was in on the way down.
If he weren't too busy thinking about how much thread it'd take to make them suitable, he wouldn't have ran into him.
Grandpa's Style ll Slighty & Basil
Finally, the old woman had sent him some cash. Not a lot, but enough to buy a few $1.50 pairs of used jeans and t-shirts. It was early for his comfort and in his half-asleep stumble out of his dorm and to the thrift shop, he’s managed to pull on some dirty clothes and shoes, forgetting to even pull his fingers through his hair. With that mane of dark, half formed curls and the used clothing draped over his body, Slightly probably looked nothing less than homeless. Or, as he would always phrase it, bohemian. 
 He’d raided this place before and knew where the even cheaper garments were tucked away. Finding himself pulling hangers off their metal bar of a home, his search began. The fruits of his labor were not plentiful, however, perhaps he’d began his search for new clothes in too close conjuncture to the previous raid and, on top of this, the feeling of being watched couldn’t be shaken. 
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Basil would be lying if he said he was thoroughly invested in the book in front of him. He flipped yet another page as Milo's pen began on his own, his lazy stare at a chapter of something he had already covered in high school as well. He heaved a small sigh, leaning back to look at how many pages had already been pushed aside. Seeing he was well through half the book, he shut the book promptly.
The title was now facing him. It was a Lab Manual for Criminalistics: An Introduction to Forensic Science. The only issue was that he didn't need an introduction, but it was required that they review the material before they started anything else. Basil took the book, stacking it on top of a pile that was over his head as he sat. After a few second glances to it, he decided it was enough for a week or so, and stood up to take them into his arms. The stack was just short of his chin when he began walking, passing the multiple shelves that separated the two.
He had every intention to proceed to check out when he heard a soft crunch underneath his shoes. He slowed, peering around the cover of his things to look down at a slightly squished ball of paper. It had escaped the others resting beside Milo, and it made his peer's eyes light up with interest. Eager to discover what was beneath the crumpled paper, he carefully stooped to take it up, fighting with the ones in his own and standing quickly so they wouldn't make him collapse. He lifted his gaze from it to look over to the writing student's table, the others catching his eye. He hesitated, but found he couldn't resist the temptation to return it and soon was at his side to put it down with the rest.
When Nerds Collide || Basil & Milo
Milo sat silently on a table in the library, chewing the end of his pencil as he thought. In front of him sat an Everest of various textbooks, his notebook, which contained intense scribbles of his own thoughts, some blank paper, and his pens. Milo had found his first few semesters of college fairly boring and unchallenging, with most the material being stuff he’d already touched  himself during his free time. Most the lectures seemed to be going over the fundamentals of Latin and Greek, which was something Milo had done in high school. Still, he went to each lecture earnestly, taking notes when needed. Sometimes he was lucky and the lecture would point out something interesting that gave Milo new ideas, or just a deeper understanding of the subject. 
Currently Milo was working on an essay titled ‘Transformational Generative Approaches in Latin’, but he’d been putting it off for some time to read into things that interested him more. Now, with less than a week to go before it was due, Milo sat, pen in hand, ready to write. He began by writing a few rough plans, occasionally crumpling up ones that were inadequate, setting them to the side. Every now and again he reached for a book and flipped through it, finding specific quotes and references to use. It didn’t take long for him to actually start writing the essay. Now that he had started, he believed that nothing could stop him.
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Grandpa's Style ll Slighty & Basil
In Basil's mind, shopping was a tedious thing. Unless it was necessary for a certain detective-in-training, he'd tend to only buy groceries or dog treats for Toby, and nothing more. However, there came times of dire need when his pants became a little too worn, or perhaps torn from being chased away by a dog much bigger than his. He'd like to think it wasn't the latter.
Thrift shops, however, attracted different types of people. Not all of them were necessarily shady at all, but it was good to keep an eye out and see if there was anything from a list of stolen items lying around. He fingered his way through the row of jeans and cotton pants, a dissatisfied frown across his face. His concentration was interrupted, though, with the bell of the door ringing. He glanced over the metal bar they were hung on, raising a brow at the man that came in. He broke away from the tags, going down the aisle to investigate.
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Oh no. Not only did he let Toby near a car belonging to the most important man on campus, he let him near the most obsessive man over his car's condition. Toby ran away from the car at the kick, whimpering as he settled behind his legs. Basil swallowed, awkwardly standing there to watch Mike. "Erm-- It's quite impossible to make a dog... relieve himself in a particular area!" He grinned nervously, urging the basset hound back so he could step back.
"I'm terribly sorry, but there's nothing I can do to help you!" He glanced around him, slowly inching himself further away from him. "Iii'll just be going, then..."
The Wrong Foot || Mike & Basil
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I heard you fucked a mermaid.
I'm not even remotely aware of what the anatomy of a non-existant creature living in THE SEA?!
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Why don't you show me some elementary education about sex?
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You're a Criminal Justice major? Well good news then, I've been a very bad girl and you should give me some of your justice ;)
I'm sure Officer Shang would be the peson you take that up with.
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Awwww C'mon you don't want to disappoint a Lady would you?
but you're only further proving that you are, in fact, too rude to be considered a lady.
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Could you possibly tutor me in some other subjects... like male anatomy? ;)
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If I may make an observation, BOY YOU ARE FIIIINE.
I do not want this.
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The Wrong Foot || Mike & Basil
It wasn't as if Basil had every intention to wander the school grounds when he hooked the leash to Toby's collar. It was just the fact that the dog, set on making his plan for the day the exact opposite, had lead him down the wrong direction of the sidewalk and he didn't have the heart to stop him. He took a deep breath of fresh air as they reached the green of the campus, just following in the dog's much smaller steps as he walked ahead with his nose glued to the grass.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to deduce where he should go next, what he should do spending his leisure time, and how much he would have. His mind wandered to the finished assignments, a small smirk coming across his face. He'd had plenty of time to finally get around to--
--hearing the sound of liquid. He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to look where the leash lead. The cement wasn't what caused his eyes to widen, but it was what was sitting on it. He slowly lifted his gaze to see the well-known paint job of the Dean's car, a look of horror going across his face. That number-one spot belonged to someone, and it was someone who wouldn't react in a pleasant way when he discovered where exactly Toby decided to relieve himself.
He quickly looked away, tightening his grip on the leash. He tensed with anxiousness, praying the dog would finish before he would hear the man he was beginning to dread.
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Leonardo Da Vinci’s drawings
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