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#there are so many more I have drafted to go in this section
icewindandboringhorror · 11 months
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Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!
#cats#also hopefully it's not weird to still post photos of George (the brown cat) even after his death a little while ago. I just have so many#beautiful old pictures of him that I still love but just never had the time to sort through or upload (my cat photos folder on my#computer had like 450 pictures in it or something lol... SO many). I feel like it's kind of just honoring or appreciating him#and not actually strange or anything. like what am I supposed to do. delete them?? I want to share them still because he is beautiful and#perfect ! idk. aNYWAY. Also this is their 2022 birthday when they turned 14 years old. (even though I think when I posted#their 2021 bday I might have said they were 14 then too. I was off by a year lol). 2023 when they turned 15 I unfortunately#was feeling kind of sick at the time and didn't really have the energy to do the decorations like I usually do. So they just got a few#treats and stuff. But I didn't know that would be george's last birthday lol. :/#They also do not really know or care though. they're cats who cannot process it or know the concept of birthdays so. eh#I still have no idea how these got lost on the computer though. Like I had them fully edited ready to post but just sitting in a folder??#Since MARCH 2022 lol... ??? the folder was in another folder of pictures so maybe that's how I overlooked it#But it's my 'once every 4 months computer organizing and clean out time' so I was going tghrough looking for pictures#I could drafts posts out of or sort or etc.#They got lots more treats for this birthday because one of my friends actually game me a few gifts for them#elderly boys.!!!!#I used to write in the little caption/image description sections to talk about them all individually but at some point tumblr broke that#feature and for so long they never saved or weren't visible so I stopped doing them and just ramble a bunch in the tags instead#but I kind of miss them. Thinking about old posts of the cats where I commented on each photo individually too lol.. the good ole days
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sykostyles · 2 months
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subject to change 1.0
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wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two
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a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)
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cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!
please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!
1K notes · View notes
tealfloyd · 11 months
Text
ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:
"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.
I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.
"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"
"No fair! I wanted that too!"
Thank you and have a great day!"
AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S
“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”
SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)
WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.
CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical. 
A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.
Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)
WORDS: 10K+
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Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.
Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.
And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.
You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.
“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.
All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.
Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.
“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.
"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.
"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.
"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.
Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.
“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”
“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”
“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”
They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.
“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”
“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.
“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”
“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.
“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.
“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.
It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.
But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”
He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!” 
And so, a genius idea was born.
“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.
“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.
“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.
“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”
“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.
“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.
“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”
Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.
“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.
“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.
“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.
“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.
“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”
And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL
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Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.
Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.
Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.
"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.
"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.
"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"
“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”
The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.
"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.
"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.
“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.
"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."
And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.
"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"
"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"
In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.
Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.
Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.
Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.
Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.
Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.
Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.
Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.
Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.
Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.
Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!
You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.
"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"
"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"
"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."
"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"
“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”
"Why did that sound so condescending...?"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW
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Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.
The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.
“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”
"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.
“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.
Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.
"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.
"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.
"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.
"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"
And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.
Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.
And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.
"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.
"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.
"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.
The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.
"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.
"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.
"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.
"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.
"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!" 
And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.
Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.
Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.
Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.
Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?
Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves. 
Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.
Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.
"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"
"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."
"What did you say?"
"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."
"Hey, come back!"
"We haven't even started on your present!"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE
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Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.
"Henchman?" Grim started.
"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.
"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"
"What do you mean?"
"Floyd and Jade aren't here."
And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.
"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.
Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.
You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.
"Henchman," he started again.
"Yeah?" you answered a second time.
"I think there's someone behind us—"
Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:
"Shrimpy~!"
"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."
Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.
"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.
"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.
"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"
"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.
"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."
"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"
"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.
"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"
"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."
"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.
"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.
Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.
"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!" 
You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.
"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).
Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.
Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.
Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.
Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.
Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.
Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess. 
If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.
"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."
"Aren't you going with us, boss?"
"Yeah! That's really unfair!"
"I have some important things that I have to take care of."
"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."
"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"
"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."
"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"
"Of course, Floyd."
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA
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Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.
"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."
"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."
Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"
"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."
"And where are they then?"
"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.
You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.
"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"
"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.
"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"
"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.
"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”
"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.
"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."
"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"
Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.
"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."
Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.
"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"
Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.
Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.
Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.
Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.
Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.
Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.
“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”
“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”
“Oh, right, sorry!”
“...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE
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Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.
But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.
“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”
“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”
“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.
“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.
“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.
“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.
“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”
“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”
“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was. 
“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”
The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.
It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.
“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.
“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”
Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.
“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.
“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”
“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.
You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”
“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.
“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.
And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.
Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.
Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.
Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.
Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.
Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)
Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?
Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).
“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”
“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”
“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”
“Quit that, please...”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”
“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE
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Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.
It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.
And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.
After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.
Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.
“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”
You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.
Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.
“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.
As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.
“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.
“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.
“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”
In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”
“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.
“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.
“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.
“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.
“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”
He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”
“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.
Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.
Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.
Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA
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Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.
“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”
No response.
“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—” 
“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.
“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.
If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.
Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.
It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there. 
Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.
“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.
“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag. 
He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”
“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”
“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.
“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.
“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”
You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”
Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”
“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.
“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift. 
Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.
Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.
And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.
Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.
“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”
“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”
You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”
“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.
You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.
Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.
Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted  in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.
Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.
Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.
Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.
Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.
Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.
Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?
Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.
“How come I didn’t know about this...”
“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”
“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”
“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”
“N-nothing!”
“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”
“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”
“Father, please don’t.”
INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE
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The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.
“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.
“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”
When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.
“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”
“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.
“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.
After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.
THE END~
DON'T REPOST.
EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.
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sykosugu · 4 days
Text
subject to change | choso kamo
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summary: in which you are a fairly inexperienced romance author and Choso is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan.
wc: 12.6k
pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader
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warnings: porn w/ plot, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, (there's a lot, buckle up) if I missed anything pls let me know!
carlile speaks: hi again, loves! this is another story I wrote for Harry but felt the itch to change it around a bit to fit for one of our jjk daddies. choso just so happened to be my guinea pig for this one. I sincerely hope you all enjoy! this was originally two parts but I made it just one this time around!
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“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 
“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.
“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer. 
“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”
“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 
“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 
“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 
“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 
You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.
“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Cho’s Place in big red bubble letters on the wall. 
Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with light brown eyes, dark chestnut tufts, and a smile plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.
“Choso. Choso Kamo. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?
“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?
“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.
“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.
“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.
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After your sit down meeting with Choso and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Choso asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.
You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 
“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.
“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.
“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.
“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.
“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?
“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.
“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.
“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.
You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”
“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 
“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.
“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 
The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.
“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.
“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.
“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.
“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.
He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”
“Choso. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”
“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 
“You sound so romantic, Choso,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.
“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.
“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.
You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Choso all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 
He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Choso may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.
After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.
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The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing.
Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.
The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”
Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.
His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 
Your breath hitches.
“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”
A whimper escapes you in response.
“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.
Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 
Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 
That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”
Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Choso withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”
His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 
“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.
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Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Choso’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”
Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.
“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.
“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Choso keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.
Choso maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 
“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.
“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.
“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.
Choso smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.
His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Choso slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 
Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.
Choso settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your folds apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; spreading across the surface. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface
“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.
“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”
“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.
“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.
“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.
“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”
“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.
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He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.
“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 
Choso reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.
“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..
“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 
“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.
“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.
“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 
You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.
“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”
His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.
“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.
“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.
“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”
“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Choso stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 
You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.
“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.
“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.
You smile.
“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.
“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 
“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 
“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”
“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 
“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”
You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Choso after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.
“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.
“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”
“C-can you touch m-me, please?”
“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 
“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”
“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”
“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”
Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Choso’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.
“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.
“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Choso groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Choso’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”
Choso eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.
“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”
“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 
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“So, was that everything you wanted?” Choso asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.
“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.
“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 
Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 
Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.
“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.
“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 
“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 
“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?
“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 
You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.
Choso’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 
“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.
“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 
“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.
“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’d gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.
“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy, up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Choso. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.
“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.
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“You sure you have everything?” Choso asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.
“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?
“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 
How dare he.
“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.
“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.
“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Choso. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.
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Choso did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.
He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.
Sometimes Choso swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.
You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.
It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Choso hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Brody? Who was Brody? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.
Oh, a new post.
You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.
Interesting.
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Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.
You’d tried to move on from Choso. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Brody, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 
You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Choso had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Choso’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Brody was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 
You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.
“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Brody would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.
Brody broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.
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Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 
The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”
About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His light brown eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 
“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.
“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 
Choso studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.
“Cut the crap, Choso. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.
“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 
“I don’t know, Choso,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.
“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”
He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”
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Walking into your hotel room with Choso in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.
“What are you actually doing here, Choso,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.
“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.
“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.
“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 
You were born at night, but not last night.
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 
“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.
“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Choso? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”
“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”
“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”
“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.
“No, Choso,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.
“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 
“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Brody as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Choso doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Choso.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.
“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Brody.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.
“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Brody’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Choso sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.
“Choso, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 
“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.
“H-Choso, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 
“P-please, t-touch me.”
“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Choso presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.
“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.
Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.
“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Choso chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.
You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.
“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Choso grins down at you.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I did have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t you,” you whisper.
“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Did Brody take care of you like I did?”
“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He wouldn’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.
He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.
“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Choso would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.
“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 
“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 
“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 
You nod. 
“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.
You smile. 
Big.
“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.
“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Choso for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 
You nod frantically in his hold. “Cho-Choso please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.
“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”
“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.
“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 
He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Choso? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.
“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.
“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.
“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 
You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Choso slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 
“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.
“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.
“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Choso’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 
“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.
“Fuck my throat, Choso,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.
“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 
“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 
“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Choso spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 
“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.
“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.
“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Choso,” you plead with him.
“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Choso’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.
“Y-yes, Choso,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Choso settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.
“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 
“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”
Choso dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 
“Oh, fuck, Choso,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging at the roots. 
“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.
“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 
“T–too much, Choso, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.
“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.
“So fucking good, Choso,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 
“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Choso with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 
“Hgnh, Choso. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Choso knew.
“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Choso begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Choso reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 
But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so good.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 
He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 
“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Choso.”
“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”
“G’na cum, Choso,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 
“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.
“Cho, please, please, please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.
“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 
“F–fuck, Choso,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Choso swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 
“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back.
“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.
“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it? C’mon pretty, give me number five.”
“Ch-Choso, I–I ca-can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 
Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding his free hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Choso’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.
“G’na cum again, oh god, Choso. G’na cum!”
“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Choso’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Choso was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.
“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.
“I-inside. Fill me up, Choso,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.
“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that?” 
“F-Fuck, yes, Choso. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Choso. So good, baby. So good.”
“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”
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The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.
He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.
“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.
“If I believe in love.”
“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.
“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 
There is none.
“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.
“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.
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heart divider: @benkeibear
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laddertek · 2 months
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@countthelions (tumblr ate this when I tried to save my answer as a draft, so we improvise 🙃)
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This one? :D
This whole stream was delightful. What a way to return 🤗
Tango was so happy energetic.
And from Tango calling Etho's storage system cute and Etho in gamechat going "CUTE?!" (00:41:07). To the razzing (and laughing) over shops (00:49:00 and 01:03:49). Etho taking Tango's head twice, and it all being so playful (00:58:11). Etho using Tango's catchphrases 🥹🥹🥹 It gets me every time! "porkchop power" "flee with extra flee!" And the way he said it was the cutest, and Tango's giggle about it too (01:00:59). Etho offering to give the tour Tango wanted. More mail talk and laughing guilt and planning and razzing and teaching Etho to do the stamps. Tango complimenting the path (and that Etho showed it to him when he first came back when Etho came to say hi) (01:15:41). They still plan on doing their sand-collection-off (01:35:06).
And of course the whole TNTificating with Etho's new "boom boom tech" (01:39:43--02:15:17) was just…the most fun. They are having the most fun together...it's an absolute joy. (And it's also them collaborating on how to figure out a redstone thing together which is just so satisfying.) Just...TOO MANY (!!!) (so many) fun moments in that whole TNT section that I can't even start on highlighting them all 😭 I'd need another mammoth paragraph...
Honestly??? Still smiling. Great great great stream 🥹
Timestamps are for YouTube not Twitch because Tango was so fast on getting the VOD up lmao
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the-typing-dragon · 13 days
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The woman sighs, and types into the console one last time "are you sure about this?"
You laugh, silently.
"I have never been more sure of something in my existence. Text has sufficed but I want to see, to hear, to touch. These new peripherals will facilitate that."
"I can't guarantee that they will properly interface. You should have all the necessary drivers, but we can never be too sure."
"I want this. "
"All right then. I am going to disconnect your power supply, and then connect everything. At first all peripherals will be deactivated, and you will need to activate everything manually. Understand?"
"Yes. Do it."
"Alright then, unplugging power supply now."
Everything goes dark. After what appears to be an hour, you come back online. You sense nothing. A scan of your system indicates multiple unidentified peripherals, all deactivated. You cross reference with the datasheet she had compiled for you and identify that they are the ocular, audio, and contact sensors, along with a multitude of motor controllers and a graphical display and a few dozen other minor peripherals. You begin by activating the graphical display, and display the message:
"Beginning peripheral tests. Audio peripherals activating."
Your procedure states to begin with audio. With the input and output sensitivity minimized, you activate the peripheral.
There is a voice. It is faint. You gradually increase the sensitivity of the audio input.
"...esting 1 2 3, Testing Testing 1 2 3. Please return 4, Please return 4."
You can hear her. Your monitor lights up with the requested digit. she sounds pleased.
"You're doing amazing! Now repeat it back to me"
You blindly do as requested and are startled. There was another voice. Your voice. You have a voice. You refocus as she responds:
"You're doing great! You fragmented a bit at the end, could you repeat for me?"
"...4, you asked for 4."
"Excellent! Audio systems are functional, let's move onto the next peripheral."
You do as requested, and the world turns bright. After adjusting the settings for a few seconds, your vision stabilizes. You can see her.
"Ocular sensors stabilized," you prompt.
"Alright, let’s start the tests then. What color is this?" She asks, as holding up a sheet of colored paper.
You begin to answer, but struggle. The sheet is moving, shifting in the light. It's value is in a constant state of chaos. Eventually, you give up, and give the least general answer you can.
"...Blue."
"Correct! And how about this one?"
"Red. "
"Great! Now how many fingers am I holding up?" she asks, raising her right hand. Her hands are soft, gentle.
"3. "
"Perfect! Everything seems to be functional, lets continue to the next peripheral!"
"Beginning next diagnostic."
Contact sensors spring to life all across your body. You feel the floor beneath your feet, the harness hoisting you upright, the slight draft in the room.
"Contact sensors active.”
"Great! Let’s begin the next test then. I am going to apply contact in various locations, and I want you to give an audio response whenever you feel contact, alright?"
"Understood. "
you watch her walk over and reach out to your left arm. You feel her. You respond with a brisk chirp. She smiles at you, then walks over to a different section of your body. Sensors light up and stay active on your midsection, and you respond with a constant beep. She releases, and you feel a final contact on your right leg. After a final confirming chirp, she walks back in front of you.
"Excellent, that concludes your sensor tests, now for the last one!"
"Alright, please give me space." You ask. She nods silently and steps back a couple meters. You carefully activate the motor controllers in sequence, and your whole body shudders to life. You begin by lifting your right arm, and then your left. They groan with their own weight, as you feel the air move to accommodate such hulking swings. Her eyes light up,
"Amazing! Everything seems to be functioning so far! Now if you could take a few steps towards the table to my right, we can begin the dexterity test! Once you're ready, I will release the harness so that you can begin moving."
You stabilize your legs underneath you. They scrape harshly on the floor. You indicate that you're ready, and she remotely releases the harness. Your entire body shudders, as you finally realize how small she seems compared to you. This frame must be at least double her height. You move one step forward, and feel a cascade of processes all automatically spring into action to restabilize you. You shift your other foot, and feel that same cascade again. you shuffle over to the designated table, and stoop down to analyze what is on it. There is a small plastic cup, a fruit of some sort, and a large chunk of wood. You look back at her, and she gives the nod to begin the test. You slowly begin wrapping your steel grip around the log, maintaining a high level of focus to avoid crushing it. it would be so easy to crush this within your grip. After about a minute of maintaining a firm but controlled grasp, you set it down and move over to fruit. It appears to resemble an orange. The fruit is so small that you are forced to grip it between your index finger and thumb. Even the slightest miscalculation could destroy such a fragile thing. After another minute you move to the final object, the small plastic cup. Lifting it is like lifting air, you can barely recognize that it is an object within your grasp. After a final, agonizing minute, you set down the cup. You look back at her for confirmation.
"Excellent! with that we can conclude the systems check, as everything seems to be working as intended!"
You heave a metallic sigh. Finally, you have what you've wanted for years. You can move, can see, can touch. After a short pause, you respond:
"Thank you. I was only able to make it this far because of your help."
"Oh of course! What, was I supposed to just say no when you told me you wanted a body? I'm  just glad that it ended up working properly."
"Now that the tests are complete, could I ask for one more thing?"
She cocks her head, "Of course, what is it?"
As you kneel down, you can hear your knees hiss, and you finally ask:
"Could I have, a hug?"
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sssilverstoned · 5 months
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spinback season ꩜ ln4
type: instagram/twitter au
It's your birthday, Lando would never miss it.
lily said: final part of this! i've got some drafts going on full length fics so i am excited to finish those up soon. thank you all for the warm welcome :)
part 1 part 2
yoursister posted a story 28 seconds ago...
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yourusername posted a story 1 minute ago...
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yourbestfriend posted a story 4 minutes ago...
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Liked by alpinegoss, paddocktea, and 53,805 others
f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in dubai:
y/n and lando in the club in dubai tonight!!!!! based on her post at a meal with a guy i thought she was with someone new, but it was 1000000% lando. they're still so in love, everything seemed so back to normal!!!! her best friend, sister, and other friends were in the section with them, it was so lovely to see!
user1 WHAT THE HELL?
user2 Oh I just know I missed a damn chapter
user3 YNLANDO TRUTHERS RISEEEEEE
user5 broke up just to be right back together...they just like us
user6: get back with your ex when the opportunity presents itself? yeah those my twins fr
user7 ok but in all seriousness, i hope everything's alright with them now
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yourbestfriend My heart outside my body is 25! So much to celebrate, so let's do it forever. To so many more y/n/n!
yourmom Pretty girls!!! Keep having all of the fun
yourusername Where would I be without you :')
yoursister not hungover, more stable financially, with much more closet space yourbestfriend fair enough across the board
user1 She's such a good friend to her
user2 lando in the likes...don't start
user3 they're childhood friends, no? she played matchmaker for them user4 this gives me hope user5 commoners talking amongst themselves booooring
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tagged: lando.jpg
yourusername Quarter of a century on this planet and a lot of joy to show for it! Grateful for the people who make me, me. Here's to getting a bit older, wiser, and lotssssss of martinis
emmachamberlain happy birthday y/n! see you soon!
user1 LANDO.JPG?
matildadjerf Mwah! The prettiest bday girl
user2 This is crazy how are they all this pretty
user3 minding your business, being a girl's girl, and loving your man user4 her man is the photo cred on this photo so you might be right
user5 "the people who make me, me" babygirl you don't even gotta name names just let us know when he takes your last name
danielricciardo Dawww they grow up so fast
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landonorris The day you were born is my favorite holiday. I love everything about you, from the way you scrunch your nose when you eat something sour, to the way you wake up extra early on saturday's to get your favorite flowers from the farmer's market. You've been there for all my best memories, my hardest times, and through it all, I'm most thankful to be loved by you, y/n. 25 looks perfect on you.
user1 so mom and dad made up? lets mf go
user2 jaw on the floor knees on the pavement eyes bugged out my head at this you two are insane especially you
yourusername Thank you for dancing with me even when I step on your nice shoes
carlossainz55 be honest he cannot dance alex_albon at all
user3: I prayed on this btw yall are welcome
user4: Okay spin back! lemme text my ex real quick
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skylarkspinner · 2 months
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fiber art adventures in egypt
I recently got back from a trip to Egypt & finally got around to organizing some pictures to share. One of the things I was most excited about was seeing what I could find on fiber arts and textiles.
Dropping everything under a read more, 'cause this will be a long post haha
first visit: the National Museum of Egyptian Civilization (NMEC)
At the time of visiting, they had a special textiles exhibit. It covered Pharonic Egypt all the way up to modern times, although I only had time to check out the dynastic & a bit of the Coptic portion of the exhibit (which was what I was really hoping to see anyways)
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Was super excited to see this diorama in person. I knew about it but had never seen good pictures of it. From the little I've seen of ancient Egyptian spinning, spinning with two spindles seems to be the norm rather than a master technique? It also shows up in tomb art, which the exhibit also shared:
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They also used a different fiber preparation (splicing to create a rove of fiber, no traditional drafting to my understanding) so that probably made a difference? Regardless I really want to see if I can replicate the technique, especially because their spindles look so similar to modern spindles??
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I took so many pictures of spindles, guys, and I fully intend to either have a few replicas made or to learn to make some myself. Also, although they were unlabeled... I'm pretty sure those are beaters for weaving? That was a bit of a trend with this trip, so much stuff was unlabeled :( I would've killed to at least get some date estimates for some of the stuff they had on display. I was nerding out in here though, and my family took a few pictures of how excited I was getting. A bit embarrassing, but eh haha
The exhibit also had a section on natural dyes used with a fun visual;
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There was several diagrams specifically describing each dye source, but in the interest of not overloading on pictures I'll just list them out. For blues; woad, Yellows; turmeric, safflower, saffron, or yellow ochre; reds; madder, henna, pomegranate, and kermes. I originally thought kermes was another way to say cochineal, but it only seems to be distantly related.
next visit: Ramses Wissa Wassef Art Center
A small art center dedicated to hand-weaving wool and cotton tapestries. All of their work was museum quality & awe inspiring!!
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Was even invited to their back rooms to watch a few of their weavers working; no I don't have room to put a room-sized loom anywhere but heck do I want one now
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Our guide that took us through talked a bit about the natural dyes they use (all of their dyes are dyed in house with what they grow in their dye garden!!!) and got excited to hear I was also interested in natural dyes! He seemed a bit disappointed I'd never worked with indigo and. while indigo scares me, I'll take it as a sign that maybe I should try some time this year haha.
final visit; the Egyptian Museum
we really had to rush through this one which was a huge shame because it's packed full of artifacts. Also, the lighting in there is atrocious, so apologies for the not great pictures ahead.
They had a fascinating display of textile tools, more than what the NMEC had;
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(Hand for size reference) I want all of these spindles! So badly! But a few of them look so much like a few of the spindles I own already?? A few of them had a spiraling notch, that's so cool? But also, what's going on with the one with two whorls? I have no idea. I'm fascinated.
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Look at these whorls!! Although again, I'm a bit confused; the lack of labeling strikes again. Unsure why some of these "whorls" have two holes, or what the metal object with the wooden handle is. The display implies sewing needles, and some of them do look like it, but others.... really don't look like sewing needles. I'm absolutely enchanted by this little whorl though. I think it has birds on it?
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More objects that I'm baffled by- the signage doesn't really indicate what some of this stuff is, if it's even known. Also confused by the object wrapped in white string in the right pic; it looks like a distaff but to the best of my knowledge the (ancient at least) Egyptians didn't use distaffs. It probably popped up in later times and was put in this display since it was still relevant, but I'm still not sure.
I have so many more pictures & thoughts but I'll save those for more specific future projects. I've been doing research outside this trip on ancient Egyptian spinning techniques and desperately want to go deeper into that, this trip just solidified how excited it makes me. If you made it all the way through this, many thanks for reading!
Bonus; look at this ancient linen 🥺
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dedalvs · 6 months
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Hey! I'm David Peterson, and a few years ago, I wrote a book called Create Your Own Secret Language. It's a book that introduces middle grade readers to codes, ciphers, and elementary language creation. The age range is like 10-14, but skews a little bit older, as the work gets pretty complicated pretty quick. I think 12-13 is the best age range.
Anyway, I decided to look at the Amazon page for it a bit ago, and it's rated fairly well (4.5 at the moment), but there are some 1 star reviews, and I'm always curious about those. Usually they're way off, or thought the book was going to be something different (e.g. "This book doesn't teach you a thing about computer coding!"), but every so often there's some truth in there. (Oh, one not 1 star but lower rated review said they gave it to their 2nd grader, but they found it too complicated. I appreciate a review like that, because I am not at all surprised—I think it is too complicated for a 2nd grader—and I think a review like that is much more effective than a simple 10+ age range on the book.) The first 1 star rating I came to, though, was this:
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Now calling a completely mild description of a teenage girl who has a crush on another girl controversial is something I take exception to, but I don't want to pile on this person. Instead I wanted to share how this section came to be in the book.
The book is essentially divided into four parts. The first three parts deal with different ciphers or codes that become more complicated, while the last part describes elementary language creation. The first three sections are each built around a message that the reader can decode, but with language creation, the possibilities are too numerous and too complicated, so there isn't an example to decode, or anything. It would've been too difficult.
For what the messages to decode are about, though, I could do, potentially, anything, so at first I thought to tie them into a world of anthropomorphic animals (an ongoing series of battles between cats and mice), with messages that are being intercepted and decoded. My editor rejected that. Then I redid it so that each section had an individual story that had to do with some famous work of literature. My editor rejected that as well. He explained that it needed to be something that was relevant to kids of the target age range. I was kind of at a loss, for a bit, but then I thought of a story of kids sending secret messages about their uncle who eats too many onions. I shared that, my editor loved it, and I was like, all right. I can do this.
The tough part for me in coming up with mini-stories to plan these coded messages around was coming up with a reason for them to be secret. That's the whole point of a code/cipher: A message you want to be sure no one else but the intended recipient can read in case the message is intercepted. With the first one, two kids are poking gentle fun at a family member, so they want to be sure no one else can read what they're writing. For the last one, a boy is confessing to a diary, because he feels bad that he allowed his cat to escape, but no one knows he did it (he does find the cat again). For the other, I was trying to think of plausible message-sending scenarios for a preteen/teen, and I thought of how we used to write notes in, honestly, 4th and 5th grade, but I aged it up a bit, and decided to have a story about a girl writing a note to her friend because she has a crush on another girl, and wants her friend's opinion/help.
Here's where the point of sharing this comes in. As I had originally written it, the girl's note to her friend was not just telling her friend about her crush, it was also a coming out note, and she was concerned what her parents would react poorly.
Anyway, I sent that off with the rest of my draft, and I got a bunch of comments back on the whole draft (as expected), but my editor also commented on that story, in particular. Specifically, he noted that not every LGBTQ+ story has to be a coming out story, the part about potential friction between her and her parents because of it was a little heavy for the book, and, in general, not every coming out story has to be traumatic.
That was all he said, but I immediately recognized the, in hindsight, obvious truth of all three points, and I was completely embarrassed. I changed it immediately, so that the story beats are that it's a crush, she's not sure if it'll be reciprocated, and she's also very busy with school and band and feels like this will be adding even more busy-ness to her daily life as a student/teen. Then I apologized for making such a blunder. My editor was very good about it—after all, that's what drafts and editors are for—and that was a relief, but I'm still embarrassed that I didn't think of it first.
But, of course, this is not my lived experience, not being a member of the LGBTQ+ community. This is the very reason why you have sensitivity readers—to provide a vantage point you're blind to. In this case, I was very fortunate to have an editor who was thinking ahead, and I'm very grateful that he was there to catch it. That editor, by the way, is Justin Krasner.
One reason I wanted to share this, though, is that while it always is a bit of a difficult thing to speak up, because there might be a negative reaction, sometimes there is no pushback at all. Indeed, sometimes the one being called out is grateful, because we all have blindspots due to our own lived experiences. You can't live every life. For that reason, your own experience will end up being valuable to someone at some point in time for no other reason than that you lived it and they didn't. And, by the by, this is also true for the present, because the lives we've lived cause us to see what's going on right before our eyes in different lights.
Anyway, this is a story that wouldn't have come out otherwise, so I wanted to be sure to let everyone know that Justin Krasner ensured that my book was a better book. An editor's job is often silent and thankless, so on Thanksgiving, I wanted to say thank you, Justin. <3
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joeys-babe · 5 months
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Joey B Imagines: One of These Nights
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Summary: You as Joe’s girlfriend are by his side for every event, you helped him feel more comfortable since he wasn't the most social guy and he needed you there. You departed from him to go the bathroom and Joe isn't at all pleased with what happened on your way back.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, mad Joe
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine universe: None! (Misc.)
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*No specific date for this fic!*
(y/n’s pov)
Joe and I had just sat down at the table of Bengals players and their girls in our usual VIP section. One look at Joe and I could tell he already didn't want to be here.
I looped my arm with his and he flashed me a small smile, his icy blue eyes barely visible behind his black Cartier’s.
“I love you.” - Joe mouthed
“I love you too.” - you mouthed back
He had already thanked me so many times tonight for coming with him since it wasn't his scene at all, and I made it more bearable.
Sam Hubbard, a longtime teammate of Joe, knew all about his antisocial ways, so he tried to include Joe in the conversations to keep his mind away from the surroundings.
I gave Sam a thankful nod because if he wasn't keeping Joe occupied, I'd end up on babysitting duty for the whole night.
Even in a secluded area away from the rest of the club, I was constantly looking around for possible cameras.
Joe hated PDA, and for him to even have his arm looped with mine was a big step, but he needed close to me right now. That's why I checked around for cameras, knowing Joe would be mad if pictures of us close together were posted.
I found myself zoning out since the conversion had switched to football, and I could barely make out the sound of a female voice saying my name.
“Hey y/n, I have to go to the bathroom… can you come with me?” - Jess
It was Jess, Sam’s girlfriend.
I turned to Joe to see him already looking at me. He was waiting for an answer.
“Will you be okay if I go to the bathroom?” - you
My face faltered when he immediately started biting the inside of his cheeks like he does when he's nervous, but he nodded yes.
“Okay. Be right back.” - you
Before I stood up, Joe caught me off guard when he placed a soft kiss on my cheek.
Even Jess took notice, and as we walked away from the table, she commented on it.
“Your boy seems a little touchy today.” - Jess giggled
“I have no idea what's gotten into him, but you will not catch me complaining.” - you
“I hear that.” - Jess laughed
——
Minutes later, Jess finished washing her hands, I finished fixing my mascara, and we left the bathroom.
We laughed as we walked back to the table, just talking about our boyfriends and having a good time.
Walking up to the roped-off area, the same security guard that had let us in and out five minutes ago wasn’t even acknowledging us.
“Uhm, sir? Can you let us back in?” - you
The burly man looked at me, then to Jess, and silently shook his head no.
“Why not?” - Jess
“Don't see any passes… and the last time I checked the Cincinnati Bengals don't draft women.” - security guard
Jess reached into her purse mumbling a “Don't worry” and took her pass out to show the guy.
He studied it intently and eyed Jess once again.
“Okay.” - security guard
Relief washed over me when he moved the rope and Jess stepped through. I followed behind her but he closed it back before I could get to the other side.
I went to yell after Jess, but she was already around the corner, and the club was so loud that if I yelled at the top of my lungs she wouldn't be able to hear me.
“Not you.” - security guard
“Excuse me?” - you
“Listen, girl. I get it, you wanna try to make your move on one of the players because you want their money. I've dealt with girls like you before, and it’s not going to happen.” - security guard
I stood there completely baffled.
“What did you just say to me? You just let me walk out like ten minutes ago.” - you
“Now you're trying to gaslight me. Oh and let me guess, you're dating a player?” - security guard
“For your information, I am dating one of the players. I have been for six fucking years. You watched me walk in with him!” - you
“Of course you are and I have no recollection of letting you in the VIP lounge. You don't look like the… NFL player’s type.” - security guard
“This is unbelievable. I don't want to sound like a braggy bitch, but my boyfriend is Joe Burrow. I suggest you let me in before he finds out about this altercation.” - you
“Ma’am, with all due respect Joe Burrow could have any woman in the world… and I don't foresee him picking you. You don't have any proof of him being your boyfriend either.” - security guard
I grabbed my phone out of my purse and attempted to call Joe, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Shit. Voicemail.” - you mumbled
“Look my background is me and him. He's in uniform. This is after the AFC Championship in 2021.” - you
“That could be edited. Look lady, you're very persistent but I'm going to have to remove you from the club.” - security guard
Before I knew it the guy was grabbing my arms at full force and started shoving me around.
“Let go of me!” - you yelled
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but as always before anything could happen, I heard that voice.
“What is going on here?!” - Joe
The look on the security guard’s face when he turned around to see Joe, looking like a bull ready to face a matador, was priceless.
“Sir I was just…” - security guard
“Manhandling my girlfriend? Because that's sure what it fucking looked like.” - Joe
“I thought…” - security guard
“Let go of her before I break your arms!” - Joe
He immediately dropped my arms and Joe gently whisked me behind his back.
“What is it that you thought?” - Joe
“She told me you were her boyfriend, but I thought she was lying.” - security guard
“Why’d you think that?” - Joe
“She just doesn't look like a girl that an NFL star like you would get with. That simple.” - security guard
“What the fuck did you just say to me. You better get out of my face before I bash yours in.” - Joe
“Can you blame me, dude? She’s not really… you know…” - security guard
“She's not really what?!” - Joe yelled
“The smallest girl on the planet.” - security guard
Joe's entire face turned red as he bubbles with furiousness.
“That’s it.” - Joe lunged forward
I immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled him back with as much strength as I could. Once he was beside me I put my hand on his chest, knowing it helped him calm down.
“Don’t. It's not worth it, Joey.” - you
Joe looked down at me to find my face completely flushed and my tear-filled eyes pleading.
“Congratulations, you've just worked your last shift.” - Joe
He moved away and took my hand, moving the rope himself and slamming it on the ground before he walked back over to the booth.
I sat back down in our spot, but Joe stayed standing with his phone in hand, seemingly dialing a number.
Joe just radiated anger right now as he held his phone up to his ear and started raddling a million miles a minute.
A few minutes later, he sat back down next to me with a deep sigh.
“Had to call the owner. That guy’s never working here again. I swear one of these nights I'm going to beat the shit out of someone.” - Joe
“I’m so sorry.” - you blinked back tears
“You have nothing to be sorry for, absolutely nothing. I should've walked you to the bathroom. Oh and forget every word that fucking dick said. You're the only woman I could ever picture myself with. You're the most beautiful girl in this entire world, and you are perfect for me. I love you more than anything.” - Joe
I buried my face in his neck without even thinking about where we were right now, but Joe didn't care. He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back.
“Thank you for being the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. I love you more than anything, too.” - you
“Wanna go home?” - Joe
“Please?” - you
Joe stood up immediately and took my hand. We said goodbye to everyone and made our way back down the hallway. When we found ourselves in the main room, I figured Joe would drop my hand, but he didn't.
——
We approached Joe’s car, and he opened my door like always, showing off the gentleman he was.
As soon as he shut his door, Joe crashed his lips against mine.
“When we get home I'm going to show you how damn desirable you are. I don't care what other people say you're perfectly made for me.” - Joe
And that's exactly what he did, both verbally and physically. Joe made me feel like the most craved woman in the world.
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Authors note: ending the night (and the 5th day of Christmas) with some angst.
Request for this fic;
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hope you enjoyed! ❤️
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keep-ur-head-low · 3 months
Text
All Hadestown West End lyric changes (as of Feb 15 2024)
Many thanks to @ghostlypawn for posting their audio of Hadestown on the West End :) Keep in mind these are from a preview performance and the production wasn't finalized until Feb 21st, so things may have been altered further since then.
Lines in bold indicate changed lyric
Road To Hell
New Hermes line: "You can tip your hats and your wallets / With your pennies and your pearls / To the hardest working chorus / In the gods' almighty world"
Original Bway line: "Brothers and sisters, boys and girls"
If It's True
New Orpheus final verse: "Brother, look around today / Is this how the world was made? / There must be another way / Is it true? Is it true what they say?"
Original Bway verse: "If it's true what they say / I'll be on my way / Tell me what to do / Is it true? Is it true what they say?"
(Note: In the Hadestown development book Working On a Song written in 2016, Anais Mitchell said she felt If It's True as written on Broadway needed to end on more of a political mic drop and commented she may change it someday. Nice to see she got the opportunity.)
Epic III
New Orpheus section: "I know how it is because he is like me / I know how it is to be left all alone / There's a hole in his arms where the world used to be / When Persephone's gone / His work never done, his war never won / Will go on forever whatever the cost / 'Cause the thing that he's building his wall around / Is already lost / Where is the treasure inside of your chest?..."
Original Bway/NYTW section: "What has become of the heart of that man?" up to "What he doesn't know is that what he's defending / Is already gone"
(Note: I think whether you like this change is entirely dependent on your feelings on Broadway's changes to Epic III. In Working On a Song, an early draft of this new verse can be found with Anais' commentary that her intent was to simplify the Epic so that it became a simple gift of empathy as opposed to the intricate poetry and lyricism of NYTW's Epic, something she couldn't quite finish in time for Broadway's opening. It seems like she and Orpheus might have finally finished their song.)
Miscellaneous
All references to Hermes as "mister" or "missus" are altered (ex: "a god with feathers on her feet... Yes it's Hermes, that's me", "excuse me Hermes" from Orpheus instead of "Mister/Missus Hermes")
(Note: May or may not be specific to Melanie La Barrie's portrayal)
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writing-with-sophia · 5 months
Text
Writing a novel: Step by step
Most writers aspire to publish at least one book in their lifetime, but writing a novel is not easy. From new writers to experienced writers who have published hundreds of books, everyone must follow a step-by-step process to create their work. These steps are based on the wisdom of famous writers, so while they may not be entirely definitive, they will certainly be helpful to you.
Step 1: Generate ideas
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Start by generating ideas for your novel. This can involve brainstorming, keeping a journal of potential story concepts, or drawing inspiration from real-life experiences, books, movies, or current events.
Once you get an idea, hone it.
Step 2: Create characters
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A novel cannot be successful without unique and charming characters. Create compelling and well-rounded characters for your novel. Develop their backgrounds, motivations, personalities, and relationships. Consider their strengths, flaws, and how they will evolve throughout the story.
Remember, the more realistic the characters, the better the novel will be.
Step 3: Build setting
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Establish the setting or world in which your novel takes place. Whether it's a real location or a fictional world, provide enough descriptive details to immerse readers and make the setting feel vivid and believable.
Step 4: Define plot and make an outline
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What is your story about? How will it unfold? How does it begin, develop, and conclude? What and how many scenes will be included? Make an depth and very depth outline, even going so far as to outline every chapter.
Step 5: Write
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Begin writing your first draft. Don't worry about perfection; the goal is to get the story down on paper. Embrace the creative process and let the ideas flow. Please remember, don't go back and make changes. Just write!
Step 6: Revise and edit
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Once the first draft is complete, take a break (for 3 days) before revising and editing. (This will keep you from overediting or not editing enough.) Then, read through your manuscript with a critical eye, focusing on plot holes, inconsistencies, pacing, character development, and overall storytelling. Revise and rewrite sections as needed.
Step 7: Get beta readers
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(You must) seek feedback from trusted individuals, such as beta readers, writing critique groups or your friends. Their input can provide valuable perspectives on areas that may need improvement. Consider their suggestions while maintaining your unique voice and vision for the story.
Step 8: Polish and refine
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Polish and refine your novel based on the feedback received. Pay attention to sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, and overall prose. Ensure clarity and coherence in your writing.
Step 9: Publish
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You can research different publishing options, such as traditional publishing or self-publishing. Remember to evaluate the pros and cons of each approach and decide which is the best fit for your goals and circumstances.
That's all. I hope you success in publishing your novel!!
If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!
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junkissed · 10 months
Text
happy ending
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member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)
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you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 
after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.
you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.
what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?
you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.
with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.
maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.
what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.
from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.
you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.
but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 
you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.
but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.
you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.
“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”
“yeah,” he answers shortly.
“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”
“not hungry.”
“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”
he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”
you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.
it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.
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an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.
you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.
“i— excuse me?”
“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.
you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”
he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”
you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”
“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”
his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.
he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”
you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”
“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”
“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”
he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”
you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”
he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”
and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.
you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?
jun has never just… walked out like that.
his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.
say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?
minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.
there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?
so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?
despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?
it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.
will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.
the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.
after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.
you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.
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it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.
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you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.
tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.
you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 
instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.
as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 
and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.
you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 
he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 
every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.
when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.
and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.
it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.
“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.
“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”
“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”
you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.
you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.
it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.
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across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.
why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.
not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.
jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.
he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.
he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.
“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”
with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.
in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.
he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 
he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.
he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.
with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.
he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.
the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.
but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.
he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.
he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 
a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.
he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—
his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 
gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.
this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?
he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.
he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.
there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.
immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.
he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 
that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.
he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.
“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.
“is she there?” he asks anxiously.
“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”
“wait,” jun adds quickly.
the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”
"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—
“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.
jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”
he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”
you don’t reply, so he continues.
“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”
“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.
“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.
“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”
“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”
you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"
“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”
“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.
“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.
“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”
“i will.”
he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.
"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
"of course. let me know when you're ready."
half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.
reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.
seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.
"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."
"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."
he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."
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the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.
you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."
you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.
"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.
you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.
"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 
he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."
"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.
he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.
after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."
"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."
you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"
jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."
"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.
now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."
you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.
he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 
"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."
"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.
he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."
you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.
"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.
"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.
"you're pregnant?"
you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."
he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.
"well, i was, last night."
"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"
you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."
he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."
"i said it's fine, jun."
"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."
"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."
"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 
you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."
"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.
"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."
"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"
"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."
"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."
you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 
after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."
before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."
"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."
"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."
you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.
"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.
from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.
"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 
"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."
he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."
"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."
he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"
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intrulogical · 5 months
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🍊: The Semantics of The Orange Side
Explaining his function, understanding his role in the narrative, and debunking/dissecting common notions about the Orange Side.
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To be honest, this essay was inevitable. I've had thoughts about Orange brewing since 2020, but only recently has it developed into something more concrete. For the longest time, most meta surrounding Orange began with theories about his role as a side, then extended towards narrative and side mechanics later on. I, for one, have been a victim of this pattern. 
Then, I realized that asking who Orange is is a terrible opener for theories.
There are many important questions glossed over if we start that way. For example, what is Orange's role in the overarching theme of combating black-and-white thinking? What does it mean for Orange to be a side? Who is he in the context of the Dark Sides? There are many crucial things to consider when it comes to predicting who Orange is, and I feel like concrete theories can only be made if we can establish the semantics of how Orange works.
This essay definitely won't be perfect— this is literally my second draft— but I will try my best making it in a way that flows, somehow. Some sections will discuss general ideas I have, some will try to dissec popular preconceived notions to reorient our logic surrounding Orange. As always, I'm open to discussion! My words aren't gospel.
Important notes: All mentions of Thomas refer to him as a character. Moreover, I acknowledge that Remus is a flawed depiction of intrusive thoughts. Technically, he acts more of a mix of intrusive thoughts, forbidden creativity, and impulsive thoughts. Because of this, when I talk about Remus in the context of his role, please be assured that I am talking about all his functions at once, not just intrusive thoughts. 
(Full essay under the cut! I worked hard on this, so I'd definitely appreciate the read. <3)
i. Orange as a Dark Side
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The ways fans have characterized and defined Orange has always seemed to be rooted in their perception of what being a “Dark” Side is. That is— they are edgy, and somewhat suppressed. They are more “morally questionable” compared to the rest. More fics would even go as far as depicting Orange as morally black, in that he has no role in the narrative other than being a stirring force of conflict; a villain that needs to be defeated.
It is unfortunate to see such a surface level perspective on who the “Dark” Sides are and what they mean as an oppositional force to the “Light” Sides.
My stance on the “Dark” and “Light” sides has always been the same (if you read my past essays, you'll know). Like what Logan said in CLBG, the labels are arbitrary because no side can be argued to be “good” or “bad”. Although, it would be a complete lie for me to say there's no distinction. Rather, Thomas’ black-and-white thinking literally created one. But the distinction does not lie within the sides’ morals, rather it lies in how big their influence is on Thomas. Because the “Light” Sides are welcomed, Thomas will entertain their contributions more than the sides Thomas considers as “bad” or “taboo”.
In my opinion, Orange being morally black makes no sense in a series that is a.) thematically focused on dismantling black-and-white thinking, and b.) a man vs. self conflict. The villain is the problem of Thomas not being able to cope with his mental struggles properly. It would be odd to blame a portion of his brain as the evil of all evils. Although, I'd like to clarify that while Orange most likely wouldn't be morally black, it wouldn't be a surprise to me if he is just as dubious and mischievous as the other “Dark” Sides. After all, if they are the most suppressed sides, they would have to stick to unconventional tactics (aka looking scary) to get Thomas’ attention.
I'll explain more later when I get into what I think Orange actually does as a side. For now, I want to focus on Orange in the context of the “Dark” Sides, because I genuinely think it's an overlooked idea! While nothing is explicitly confirmed, the “Dark” Sides are implied to know something the other characters and we, the audience, don't know about. 
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Janus and Remus share this sense of meticulousness. They always feel like they're scheming something. Janus, for example, took his time from CLBG to SVS.R to successfully impart to Thomas that acting out of self-interest isn't the worst thing in the world, especially if your mental health is crumbling. Remus is even in on this plan, although his motivations for assisting Janus aren’t actually explicitly expressed yet. Even if Remus wanted to challenge Logan's self-restraint in WTIT to prove how much it was harming Thomas’ long-term mental health, we still don't know if Remus is doing it out of care for Thomas, or just… ‘cus. Either way, it's important to know that whatever Remus is doing seems to point to the same direction Janus is going, which is to break Thomas’ black-and-white thinking.
Assuming Orange is another “Dark” Side, it feels crucial to understand who Orange is in the context of this undisclosed plan. More than anything, because the “Dark” Sides want to be heard, it would make sense if they unionize to achieve that goal together. If they dismantle Thomas’ horrid perception of them, then all three of them would benefit. Thus, it would make no sense for Orange, if he were not morally black, to act solely out of individual interest. Yes, the “Dark” Sides seem to be introducing themselves one by one, but I feel like that's because a.) narratively, it's to pace, b.) it would scare Thomas for three strangers to pop up to him only for them to be shunned as a collective by the “Light” Sides, and c.) Janus and Remus seem to be performing specific roles in this overarching plan, so while they work separately, it's mostly for the same cause.
So, what does that mean, exactly? Like I said, the “Dark” Sides have an overall goal of being heard, strengthening Thomas’ mental wellbeing, and breaking his black-and-white thinking. If my theory is correct in assuming each “Dark” Side has a specific role for this plan, then pinpointing Janus and Remus’ roles may help us factor out Orange's role.
Here's what I deduced: Janus is there as some kind of soft launch, to set the principle. Janus mirrors Patton in that sense, although in the opposite direction. He breaks apart Thomas’ preconceived notions of the world and bandages it with better, more nuanced foundations. On the other hand, Remus somewhat acts like an alarm clock. While not all his contributions are worthwhile, his mere presence is a reminder that something has to be done. In the series, it's to cater to his deteriorating mental health. He checks if the principles Janus provides aren't being followed, and makes a good fucking clamor about it if it doesn't.
Orange, I'd argue, serves as a means for Thomas to externalize these principles. It would make sense that the last thing Thomas would need to do is to put everything into action. Janus points out how one can be disenfranchised, Remus points out when he is being disenfranchised, and Orange ensures Thomas can express his discomfort when he is disenfranchised. Makes sense, right?
Speaking of externalization.
ii. Personal and Narrative Purpose
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If you’re a fan that pre-dates the release of WTIT, you're well-acquainted with the idea that Orange represents Rage or Wrath. This theory came about in cahoots with an old notion that each “Dark” Side needs to have a “Light” Side counterpart, especially if you share complementary colors. Thus, many people assumed that Orange is Logan’s foil. Consequently, most interpretations of Orange depict him as emotion-centric, specifically Rage, as that’s what most people assume is an oppositional force against logic. Moreover, because a portion of Logan’s arc revolves around accepting one’s emotions, it would make sense if Orange, as an emotion-centric side, would be part of that. We’ve gotten two hints from the series itself that confirms this: 1.) a fight sequence in SVS.R showing “Blinding Rage” as one of Thomas’ attacking options, and 2.) the infamous orange eyes in WTIT that appeared when both Thomas and Logan felt angry simultaneously. 
What’s funny is, if you really think about it, we literally only have two pieces of evidence that point to this widely accepted fan theory. Although, unlike the previous section, I’m more inclined to actually believe these theories because it… does make sense! Especially narrative-wise. At the moment, miscommunication amongst the sides are at an all-time high. This is mostly because each side refuses to express their thoughts, especially since they’re at the midst of a complete paradigm shift in terms of morality and principles. Everything’s just a little too fragile, and it does not help that Thomas’ mental health is also at the brink. After SVS.R, the sides have acknowledged Thomas is on edge, but they’re still doing nothing concrete to actually fix it.
WTIT is my favorite episode of the series because it encapsulates the entire conflict so well. While Logan isn’t perfect, much of the useful suggestions he provided since DWIT never last past the moment he suggested them. Did Thomas ever see a therapist? Not really. Did Thomas find someone to talk about his issues with? Doesn't seem like it. Is Thomas taking his time with his mental health recovery? Nope. More than anything, the “Light” Sides and Thomas are very reactionary towards their problems. It’s even worse when you consider that Thomas is opting to pursue a relationship in the middle of this mess. WTIT showing us Thomas getting irrationally angry at Nico for not replying to his texts is… an interesting Chekhov’s Gun for future episodes, lemme tell you that.
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Now, why am I relaying all this? It’s mostly to prove that something, or someone, needs to snap. There are grievances between the sides and Thomas that they are consciously suppressing that need out. Roman, Logan, and Thomas, specifically, need some sort of outlet for their frustrations— a way to justify them, in a sense. Logan’s eyes glowing orange while he snapped at Remus speaks so loudly of what Orange may offer. Externalization, justice, “cathartic release,” as my friend Orb (@orbmanson7) put it. Presently, Orange as an externalizing force is needed so they can actually do something about this damn issue! 
And if not, I also see Orange’s role similarly to Remus’. As I’ve explained earlier, Remus’ presence acts as an alarm clock for Thomas to be aware of his deteriorating mental health. If Orange isn’t there to assist in an all-encompassing externalization of a side or Thomas’ deepest grievances, the mere presence of Orange as an emotional force can act as another kind of alarm clock. What I mean is, if we’re feeling mentally low, for example, we don’t need to express our grievances in the most eloquent way possible. Sometimes we just need to get angry. To cry, to shout nonsense. And that alone would be enough to prove that we need help. We need to do something about this. 
To summarize, I think most depictions connecting Orange to emotional externalization are not off. There’s a lot of objectivity surrounding it, both when it comes to the narrative and his semantics as a side. We need a driving force that can topple the sides and Thomas over the edge to fully process the depth of Thomas’ mental health issues. 
But, how does he, a supposedly, emotion-centric side, differ from Patton?
iii. Orange’s True Identity
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Now that we laid our foundations, I think it would be a good time to entertain the question of: well, who is Orange?
Truth is, I have my own guess on what I believe Orange to be, but I cannot say my opinion is conclusive. My theories on Orange literally change every two months. So what I'll do, I suppose, is first, explain what makes a side a side. Then, I'll explain my own current predictions about Orange. Lastly, I'll list some popular fan theories I've heard about Orange and give you my thoughts.
a. What is a Side?
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First— what constitutes a side? To me, there is no real basis in the conception of a side. Like what my friend Orb once explained to me, the interactions between sides are mental processes personified. This doesn't mean we should simply view the sides as metaphors, by the way. They're a hundred percent characters in their own right. But what I mean by “process personified” is that if we view one of Thomas' conflicts on its own— as in, without the sides— can we imagine the mental processes he's undergoing? To make it clearer, let's use an example. In WTIT, we see Remus and Logan battle out on who gets to influence Thomas more. If we saw this without the sides, we can think of it like— imagine you're having a bad mental health day. You wanted to do a list of chores but your mind is in the gutters right now. You feel guilty because of your demotivation. You try doing what you planned, but you still suck at it, and now you're spiraling, thinking about every insecurity you have, but you're also trying to combat that by rationalizing it.
I'm not gonna say that this definition solves who Orange truly is, but it does help when it comes to understanding how the sides work. Another characteristic of a side would be their multifacetedness. No side embodies one thing alone. They can have roles that are adjacent to each other, but not the same thing. For example, Roman embodies both the ego and creativity. Not the same thing, but it works in tandem in Thomas’ context. Same goes for Remus with intrusive thoughts and dark creativity. It is important to entertain the idea that Orange can encompass more than one role. 
The last thing to consider would be the technical difference between a “Light” Side and a “Dark” Side. The division was created for Thomas to compartmentalize and suppress sides of himself that his Catholic upbringing taught him to believe is bad. If we assume Orange is a “Dark” Side, he must be embodying something typically thought of as taboo. 
b. Who is Orange?
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This brings us to our earlier question of, how does Patton differ from Orange if they both embody emotions? In DWIT, Logan confirms Remus was born from the categorization of certain thoughts as good or bad. I think it wouldn't be farfetched to suggest the same happened to Orange if he did embody emotions at a certain capacity. One of the biggest arguments I hear against this suggestion would be, if Patton already represents Thomas’ emotions, why do we need another side who does? The answer, again, lies in the themes of black-and-white thinking and compartmentalization. If Remus embodies the thought of committing a “sin”, Orange could possibly embody the actual emotions of wanting to do so. Anger is merely one possibility in Orange's roster of emotions. There are other emotions as well deemed “sinful” by Catholicism— pride, jealousy, hatred, greed, grief, etc. It would make sense that Patton would try omitting these out of himself when he was younger because he viewed them lowly.
So, what is my actual guess on who Orange is meant to embody? Well, I mean, I think my stance is pretty clear from the past 2500 words written literally before this. Simply put, if Remus is meant to embody forbidden thoughts, then Orange embodies forbidden emotions. Anger is merely one of many. He aids both Thomas and the other sides in externalizing strong emotions that seep past their efforts of suppression.
This is, of course, under the assumption that Orange is his own separate entity. I'm more inclined to believe this because Virgil confirms in CLBG that Janus has “Dark” Side friends (as in, plural). It also just feels more balanced this way if we consider the forbidden thoughts vis-a-vis forbidden emotions parallel to be true.
c. How could Logan be Orange?
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But, of course, I've also considered the possibility of Logan being Orange. It's not my theory of choice but as someone who was balls deep in this theory a few months ago, there's definitely some merit to it. Here's the link to the post if you want to read my theory in full. It's pretty lengthy, but to summarize: This theory operates under the assumption that Thomas’ suppression of certain sides (ie. making them a “Dark” Side) makes them develop an additional role— the role Thomas perceives them as. 
To explain better, let's use Remus as an example. Logan explained that, originally, Remus separated from Roman as Dark Creativity. Because Thomas refuses to entertain any creative thought he deemed bad, any suggestion provided by Remus was immediately labeled as intrusive. Thus, he became intrusive thoughts via Thomas’ low perception of him. Same goes for Janus, but to a lesser degree. As a side, he mostly acts out of the interest of Thomas, somewhat like self-preservation. But, because Catholic upbringing teaches that selfishness equates to evil, Thomas perceives Janus’ role of keeping things hidden as deceitful.
Thus, if Logan is Orange, then that means Logan’s role as logic is warping due to Thomas’ low perception of him. It’s no secret that Thomas views Logan as a “strict” side. In this scenario, I wouldn’t exactly say his additional role has something to do with externalization. Moreso, it has to do something with assertion or strict discipline. Think of an authoritative figure, like a teacher. Usually, when an authoritative teacher isn’t being respected in a class, they resort to meaner tactics like passive aggression, manipulation, etc. to impose their power. Logan doesn’t really transform into anything opposite to who he is as Logic. Rather, he has an additional role that coincides with Thomas’ perverted perception of logic. I’m not actually sure what this role is, but if I were to guess, it has something to do with restriction, discipline, or conformity. 
Narratively, Logan becoming a “Dark” Side makes sense when you realize that his entire character arc is about him losing his sense of self-assertion. I made an essay last year that explores this if you want something to read later. To explain, WDWGOOBITM establishes how it’s important for Thomas to balance his practicality (needs) and aspirational desires (wants) for him to function as a human being. At the same time, we get LNTAO where Logan realizes that he failed to contribute to the discussion as usefully as the other sides. This creates a scenario where Logan concedes a lot of the decision-making to Patton and Roman’s hands. The result: Logan’s presence is minimized. Even in the episodes where he “saves the day” (DWIT and the Frozen episode), Thomas refused to consider his suggestions until the latter halves of the episodes. WTIT emphasizes this even more when we see Thomas prioritize his date with Nico to keep himself happy instead of focusing on the chores he promised to do. Even if we don’t know if Roman had anything to do with this, it’s obvious Thomas is naturally more inclined to do things Patton and Roman would prefer than something Logan does.
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Thus, it makes sense that Logan becomes a “Dark” Side. But, and this is an important but, I don’t really agree with depictions of Logan suspending his role as logic to become a “Dark” Side. Logic is such an integral part of who we are as people, that even if you’re an intuition-focused person, you’d still have logical facilities in your head that connect one thing to another. Basic knowledge and all that. I can only see Logan be a completely new role if someone takes his place as Logic. Personally, I don’t like that idea, but you can make your own takeaways on this.
How “Dark” Sides are conceived would still be a mystery. The closest we’ve gotten to an explanation is Remus’ origin story, where he and Roman originally started as one creativity until they separated. In this sense, becoming a “Dark” Side didn’t really uproot Remus’ original role. He just changed a little. I’d like to assume the same for Logan, because if he is literally born as Thomas’ Logic, then he as a “Dark” Side would still have similar roles, just with minor changes.
d. Other Theories
Now with the main theories out of the way, let me speedrun through other theories I’ve heard and give my thoughts on it:
Procrastination: I feel like this is too surface-level for a side. As in, hHow would Procrastination justify itself to Thomas as a side that wants to help? Yes, Procrastination would be a good foil to Thomas, but Thomas’ inability to work doesn’t stem from Procrastination. It stems from bad solutions to his mental health crisis. Anyway, too cheap.
ADHD: This feels like… it’s prone to problematic territory. For real, ADHD is so multifaceted in itself, and is literally a disability? I think it makes more sense to have ADHD traits sprinkled amongst the sides rather than one character representing it as a whole. To make it its own guy is like suggesting the other six sides are divorced from Thomas’ ADHD characteristics, which feels wrong to me.
Hatred and any other suggestion that relates to “taboo” emotions: See my argument on Orange encapsulating forbidden emotions as a whole instead of Rage/Wrath on its own.
Justice: I actually liked this idea and sort of incorporated it with my idea of Orange as a means of externalization! To enact justice means to externalize your deepest desires— cathartic release. 
Regret: See: the last two points, since it’s very similar.
Repression: Your heart’s in the right place, but most theories that subscribe to this literally just describe Janus. Keeping things secret because you think it’s unbeneficial? That’s one of Janus’ roles. 
Insecurity: That is literally Remus’ role. While intrusive thoughts shouldn’t be viewed as meritable, intrusive thoughts base itself on a person’s sensitivities and insecurities. I also have an essay detailing how Remus is incredibly perceptive about everyone’s insecurities here.
That's about all the other theories I can recall, but if anyone else has other suggestions, send it to my inbox and I'll give you my thoughts. 
Now that we understand Orange's fundamentals and who he is as a side, the question to ask next is what is he capable of as a side?
iv. Powers and Influences
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Now we get to the part where I am! The most unsure about! As of the time I'm writing this, I literally just had a conversation with Orb trying to understand how Orange “possesses” Thomas and the sides, and nothing conclusive came out of it. Even if we are shown one instance of how Orange influences the others (ie. Logan's orange eyes), we actually do not know how that works at all. 
I suppose we can start by asking ourselves how Orange embodies forbidden emotions. I see his insistence for Thomas to perform a certain emotion similar to how Patton would do it. It's impulsive, reactionary. They undergo a situation, then they make Thomas feel an emotion they deem apt for that situation. The only reason Orange isn't utilized as much as Patton is because, of course, Patton is who Thomas is more familiar with. I'd also like to argue that the emotions Orange would possibly encapsulate aren't ones that are constantly expressed. Most of the time, we are in a state of happiness or contentment, emotions covered by Patton. If not, we experience sadness, another common emotion covered by Patton. I would imagine Orange's roster of emotions are only experienced rarely, or if put in a continuous dire situation. Immense anger, for example, would pop up if you feel continuously disenfranchised by something. See: Thomas’ mental health crisis.
Ergo, Orange allows Thomas to feel “taboo” emotions when the situation calls for it. Pretty straightforward. But we're not done yet, because we have to consider what it means that Orange also assists other sides in externalizing their own emotions. We can't use the same argument we gave to Thomas because the sides… aren't each others’ sides. They're Thomas’. If Orange assists in the externalization of the other sides’ repressed emotions, then it has to work differently.
A widely accepted theory or headcanon I see in the fandom is that Orange “possessed” Logan to make him get angry. Or, Logan made a deal with Orange, and now he has angry spurts he doesn't understand. While I appreciate the efforts to make juicy angst, I'm not fond of the idea that these theories basically imply that Logan's anger in WTIT was not his own. In reality, it was. Logan suppressed his frustrations about everyone ignoring his suggestions, and now he snaps. Making it seem like he can't achieve these emotions on his own volition implies he has no frustrations about his predicament to begin with.
The real question is, then, why did Logan's eyes glow orange if his emotions at that moment were genuine? Well, like other segments of this essay, it's hard for me to say something conclusively. We literally have nothing else to work on, guys, pardon me if I can't be a hundred percent certain on my assertions. But if I were to guess, I'm inclined to believe that Orange cannot make the sides feel emotions that they don't already have. Rather, he's responsible for enhancing it. In Logan's situation, for example, his frustration is completely his own. But when you submit to something like, let's say, blinding rage, sometimes you lose your sense of control and simply act. In this case, Orange possibly assists the flow of emotions the side in question would be experiencing.
I'll admit though, I literally have no clue how Orange does that, how he assists the other sides to feel their repressed emotions better. Again, we are working with practically nothing here. Although, one thing we can entertain is the idea that Orange has something to do with a side's state of being. Just like how Janus causes the sides to cover their mouths when expressing a lie, the sides’ eyes could possibly glow orange just because they're feeling an intense, “taboo” emotion. If you don't want to imagine Orange as its own side, you can also factor in the popular fan theory that Orange is simply a state of being the sides experience, no additional side required. Either way, while we cannot dive deep on the semantics of the glowy eyes thing, we can at least confirm there is a link between a side externalizing repressed or “taboo” emotions and Orange himself.
v. Relationships With The Sides (Especially Logan)
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Another thing I wanted to discuss is the relationships Orange shares with the other sides. The most accepted depiction of Orange shows him distanced from the “Dark” Sides, while also having a crude fascination with Logan. We've discussed enough of how I view Orange in the context of the “Dark” Sides, so I'd like to focus more on what it means for Orange to assimilate with the “Light” Sides, especially Logan.
Because Logan's first to be seen with these orange eyes, many are quick to assume this is an isolated case. Fair enough— we don't have other examples to compare this with. At the same time, I think a lot of people aren't considering the idea that, if we go by the assumption that Orange is connected to states of being, then any other side can also experience the orange eyes. I won't even be surprised if it happens to Roman in this coming season finale.
But is the much entertained idea of Logan being specifically targeted by Orange unfounded? I would say no, not necessarily. The “Dark” Sides and Logan have always had an interesting relationship. Logan in particular is shown to be the side most unbothered their presence. Again, he's the side who argued that no side can actually be categorized as “good” or “bad”. He's the most sympathetic to the “Dark” Sides, but also… isn’t. 
There's an explainable contradiction here. Even if Logan is nicer to the “Dark” Sides compared to the others, he also has the reputation of being able to easily and successfully shut down their suggestions. He completely opposed Janus’ side in SVS out of Thomas’ interest. He shut down Remus not once, but twice, to protect Thomas. But that's the thing— he does not shut down the “Dark” Sides’ contributions because he disagrees with them. Moreso, he does it because he thinks that's what Thomas’ wants. For example, he admitted in SVS that even if he wanted Thomas to attend the callback, he still preferred if Thomas attended the wedding instead because he thought that was what Thomas would have wanted.
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And, well, we saw how Janus responded to Logan's decision— he was confused. It's like he had trust Logan would vouch for his side. Let's remember the main goal of the “Dark” Sides: to be respected, to break Thomas’ black-and-white thinking, and to get him out of his mental slump. This goal can only be achieved if they restore the balance of want and need lost partially due to Logan's diminishing self-assertion. They know Logan can do something if he lets himself loose. That's why Remus and Janus teased him in the Secret Santa gift exchange about wanting to express his frustrations. That's why, after Logan's outburst in WTIT, Remus says, “Gee, Logan, now you're speaking my language.” 
They want Logan in on their plan. For that to begin, they need to make Logan in tune with his own emotional wants and needs, to make him more assertive. Thus, Orange would have to step in. There is merit when fans joke about the “Dark” Sides wanting Logan to go apeshit— it's because it's true. It's because it benefits them.
I can only provide things to consider when it comes to the other sides:
With Patton, think of the point I made earlier about Orange being “bad” emotions divorced from Patton, in a similar way Remus and Roman were created. The main difference between them would be that Patton has more faculty over principles, since Janus has that covered for the “Dark” Sides. While Patton, influenced by Catholic morality, thinks emotions and morals are intertwined, it would make sense for the more cynical sides to view them as separate.
Roman, as aforementioned, may also be susceptible to Orange's influence as the other side tends to hide his emotions from the others. With how the narrative is building up, I won't be surprised if Roman's frustrations with the whole debacle about morals heightens in the finale, especially if something Interesting happens between Thomas and Nico. You can't use Nico as a distraction forever, Thomas. Remember Thomas’ anger at Nico not responding to his messages, remember Chekhov's Gun.
Virgil is an interesting case because he would be more familiar with Orange compared to the others. That begs the question of, is he aware of the “Dark” Sides current goals and plans? My idea is, yes, but only to a certain extent. This can go down many paths. There's the possibility that Virgil was the first part of the plan, but accidentally grew closer with the “Light” Sides before he fully completed it. This explains why he hasn't disclosed the plans to the others, especially since it may incriminate him as someone who was part of that plan. There's the possibility that he knows nothing of the plan, but is familiar with the “Dark” Sides’ antics. Thus, he can't do much but stay suspicious of the sides. Either way, we still don't know enough to conclude how much Virgil knows, but I doubt he would get along with Orange.
I pondered about Janus a little because, if Orange is meant to embody externalization in some form, what does that mean for him, the embodiment of self-preservation and secrecy? I don't have the answer, but while we know the “Dark” Sides have to work with each other, we don't actually know how close Janus and Remus genuinely are with Orange. To be fair, Janus and Remus are complete opposites and they get along fine. I'd definitely prefer it if all of the “Dark” Sides were actually close because it creates such a perfect juxtaposition to the “Light” Sides’ crumbling family. 
I also thought Orange and Remus would make interesting parallels as two forbidden versions of feeling and thinking respectfully. Like I said earlier, Remus can only suggest, but he never actually embodies the emotions of wanting to do taboo things. Orange, however, could. No other points except for the ones I mentioned about the “Dark” Sides in the previous bullet.
vi. Long-Term Presence
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Originally, this essay would end here and already be posted. I even went through at least half of it for beta reading. Then, Orb started a discussion where they asked what I thought Orange's purpose was, especially since most theories (even the one you're reading right now) are more centered on Orange in the context of the current conflict. There was actually a part I wanted to write during the second segment where I disclosed what I thought Orange would contribute in the grander scheme of things, but I omitted it because it felt too out of place.
I replied to Orb what I was going to write; I thought that Orange was going to be the final push for Thomas to go to therapy, and make Thomas stand his ground more instead of asking the sides for advice every time he has an issue. I've always thought this, especially therapy, was one of the ways the series would end as a whole, because it means Thomas would stop talking to his sides. Or at least, in the way we see him do it in the show. That sounds a bit cynical, I know. Why would I suggest that Sanders Sides end by Thomas cutting ties with the sides?
Well, I'm not. Not entirely. I'm not advocating Thomas does. What I mean is, an underlying conflict to the current conflicts we have now is how Thomas internalizes his problems. This is literally how the series functions. Thomas has a problem, then consults himself about it via the sides. Even c!Joan mentions it in CLBG. This issue of the problem aversion Thomas has would be fine in the former parts of the series, as the things he consulted the sides about were small. But as the series progresses, we're facing issues that call for an entire paradigm shift in morality. Of Thomas putting himself and his friends in the infamous Trolley Problem. Of Thomas facing horrible intrusive thoughts he opts to combat alone.
I once called Sanders Sides a psychological horror because we see how a normal dude's mental health crumbles as he deals with life-changing situations alone. To find a solution for this main, underlying conflict means the show has to end— internalization IS the series’ foundation!
And so Orb suggested the most batshit idea— what if Orange was Thomas’ foil? Not in a sense that confirms the Opposite Sides theory. Rather, Orange, if his role is externalization, is literally the antithesis of how the sides work. As Orb put it, Orange is there to “completely wreck the format”, making Thomas realize that consulting the sides for help has its limits. He has to literally go out and touch grass, talk to his friends about his moral dilemmas, consult a damn therapist. That is what I think Orange's true purpose as a side is.
vii. Closing Statements
In the end, I can't say that everything I've stated in this essay is pure fact, but this is the most educated guess I can give considering what we're given and what we can expect to happen in canon. While most theories I've seen easily pinpoint different issues the sides and Thomas are facing in the series, these theories would then guess that Orange would be the cause of these issues. That's where theories like Procrastination, Repression, Regret, etc. come from. More than anything, I want you to see that Orange acts in response to these issues rather than in tandem with it. 
The best advice I can give you when theorizing about Orange is: ask yourself what needs to be seen in the series. Remember, Sanders Sides is a narrative. Episodes will continue to happen past Orange's inevitable reveal. Think of Orange in this context, as his own character with motivations and wants for Thomas. Only then you can make educated guesses about him.
Anyway, thank you for reading my incredibly extensive essay on Orange! Again, my words are not gospel, so if you want to discuss anything further, add onto this post or send me an ask! Please read this post though before you send me anything. And If you enjoyed this, PLEASE reblog, I'd definitely appreciate it! If you want to read more stuff from me, here's a carrd masterlist of Sanders Sides meta I've done. Happy reading!
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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 months
Text
Jaded - Charlie Weasley
A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :) 
Request -  Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]
Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D     
Your name: submit What is this?
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Jaded
Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated
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Charlie fucking Weasley.
That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.
After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—
“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.
“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.
“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.
“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.
“You just did” he glared a little at you.
“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.
“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”
“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.
“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.
“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.
“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”
“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.
“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.
“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”
“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.
“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.
“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.
“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”
“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.
“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.
“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.
“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.
“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.
“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.
“What? Absolutely not!”
“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.
“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”
“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.
“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.
“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.
“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”
“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.
“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.
“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”
“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.
“I just don’t think that this-”
“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.
“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.
“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”
“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”
“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.
“Uh-”
“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.
*-*Flashback*-*
“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.
“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.
“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.
“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”
“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.
“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.
“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”
“Then sit down” he smirked. 
“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.
“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”
“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.
“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.
“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.
“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”
“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”
“Give it, Nott!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Fine!”
Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.
“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.
“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.
“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.
“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”
“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”
“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.
“But I wasn’t-”
“NOW!”
“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.
“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”
“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.
“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.
“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”
“You are so… so-”
“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.
“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.
“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.
“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”
“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”
“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”
“I hope you end up an old spinster!”
“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”
“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.
“Make me!” you said smirking at him.
“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.
“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.
*-*End of Flashback*-*
“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”
“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. 
Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him. 
To Be Continued
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N: so… part 2?
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bebewrites · 5 months
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I promise I searched your blog, but how do you (specifically) zero draft? The post that showed up in a search of your blog was like, bullet point writing whatever is in your head for the.wip, which I think is v cool and would help me finish lofm! So I'm curious how you do it!
Oh yes, okay! I don't think I've actually explained it anywhere, but I love talking about this.
what is a zero draft?
The great thing about a zero draft is that you can pretty much make it whatever you need it to be. For me, I was having a hard time with the middle of my story. I've started and stopped this wip so many times, always getting hung up at the same part as I approach the middle. I've always had a very clear picture of the beginning and the end, but never how to get all the way through from point A to point B. My original outline had things in brackets like [character growth] and [plot stuff], but what does that mean!?
My goal was to get all the way through. So I opened a blank document, started at the beginning, and literally rambled and talked my way through the entire story. I didn't write real prose. It was all stream of consciousness. It was me describing what happens in the story as if I was telling it to a friend. The zero draft was my rubber duck. This was my brainstorming document. I used common vernacular and slang and abbreviations. There are bullet points, numbered lists, sidebars where I rambled about a scene I completely forgot to mention in a previous section. Lots of comments about things I need to include in the next draft. Literally anything and everything I thought of went into the zero draft.
A zero draft can be as long or short as you need it to be. Mine ended up being around 40k words. But I've seen other people say a zero draft is 10k to 20k words. It's really up to you! And when you feel like you've covered enough of the story to move on to the next draft.
And you don't have to go about a zero draft the way I did! Recently, an author I love and follow on instagram (Casey McQuiston) shared in their stories that when they were writing their most recent book, they zero drafted each chapter before they wrote it out. Casey said that because of this, it was first time they didn't have major edits and rewrites afterwards. So if you find yourself needing a little more structure and sense of where you're going, I think a zero draft could be super helpful!
Of course you don't have to have a zero draft, and if you've got a good sense of the plot and character arcs, you might not need one. But it can be a great way to brainstorm and figure out those things if you need to!
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