Loly's Valentines Application
your name: Loly Aiverrne, but you can call me 'Babe'.
Romantic or platonic?: Sexual.
A night in or dinner out or an activity?: Your place.
Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: Whichever you're comfortable wearing before I eat it.
What's your perfect date?: Watching movies. Playing those little weird games with cardboard slabs and plastic pieces. Eating a lot of good food. And then we cap the night by stress testing your couch.
Would you cook for me?: Of course, I'm not a hooligan.
Would you let me cook for you?: No, the night's my treat. You can lick the spoons though.
Can we make-out?: You bet your stupid face we're gonna.
Make out in private or in public?: Private.
Do you like to cuddle?: Aggressively.
Blankets or no blankets for cuddling?: Blankets, I get cold.
Couch or bed?: Couch first.
What are at least 3 hobbies of yours?: Being mean to you, being mean to your friends, and tring on cute outfits.
Tell me something about you no else knows: I hate you more than anything.
Why do you want to be my valentine?: Spite.
What makes you a good Valentine?: I can't stop fucking thinking about you. I want you to experience an incredible ammount of pain. I want to do horrible, painful things to you. But I know that I can't. But I can't just drop this. I have no idea why this suddenly spiraled out of control, but every time you talk I want to shut you up with my mouth. So here we are.
Upon delicately unfurling the envelope, her tender gaze falls upon a name, etched elegantly onto the paper. Her roseate soft margins part in a silent gasp of astonishment; the application within its confines brims with unanticipated revelations. With a whisper as soft as satin, she breathes life into the syllables. “Loly-san...” Her caramel hues dance meticulously over each response inscribed on the paper before her. A candid admission escapes her. "B-Babe, but I find your name enchanting with its air of sophistication." She marvels in silence at the myriad of interests laid bare before her—interests she hadn’t fathomed they both shared. A mutual affection for cinematic escapades ignites the promise of shared joy between them.
Her inquisitive stare retraces its steps to alight on question number two. The word 'Sexual' hangs in the air like a delicate, unspoken promise—yet she hesitates. "Might we not explore alternative intimacies prior to this?" A flustered heat creeps across her dermis as she shields her visage with slender palms, a temporary sanctuary from her blooming embarrassment. Another revelation captures her attention: culinary expertise—a trait most intriguing. The prospect of this newfound knowledge excites her. "Perhaps you would grace my kitchen with your talents? What is your specialty? Is it pasta?" Maiden muses out loud. The thought of cuddling and tender exchanges beneath a blanket's embrace ignites a warmth that colors her cheeks once more; yet she wonders if this invitation is earnest or merely another instance of her playful charade. She envisions Loly in a cute gothic lolita dress with whimsical charm—a figment of her spirited imagination.
"So you abhor me yet yearn to be my valentine? To think of me incessantly and wish for our lips to meet—is this truly born out of detestation?" Queries the auburn-haired maiden, who finds herself ensnared in sweet confusion. Nonetheless, she appreciates Loly's valiant efforts to bridge the chasm between them—to unfold like a blossom towards warmth. Her heart flutters with joy at her initiative to become more accessible; this gesture propels her towards wholehearted approval of her application.
"I accept you. Thank you for giving me a chance. Let me show you how warm the sun can be." @venenorita
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