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katsukikitten · 3 years

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Part one. Master list for plus one can be found here.

Just a nice fic I decided to write for fun. Please enjoy!

Asshole!

He was nothing but a huge, giant fucking ASSHOLE for the entire two years the two of you were dating and he decides NOW is a good time to break up with you?

Two days before your cousin's wedding and over TEXT MESSAGE?!

That fucking asshole.

He knew how you felt. Exactly how you felt about going alone to your cousin's wedding after your family begged to meet your boyfriend and teased you for "probably making him up." Which hell, he may as well have been made up considering how absent he was in the relationship. Using work as an excuse to come home late but forgetting to turn off his snap location when he showed up at the bar.

So you did what any rational woman in her upper twenties would do.

You drowned your sorrows in booze, tonight red wine as it was the only thing around, and you scrolled through your socials in hopes of distracting yourself from your suffering.

Alas the devil that is Instagram only amplified your sadness and irritation. Showing couple after couple, your friends on hikes kissing on the mountain top, kissing in the flickering light of candles at a fancy dinner or, worst yet, getting proposed to. The video showing her in hysterics screaming, "YES I DO I DO!"

And it feels terrible to feel this way. Especially about your friends, the people you love and want to support, still it stings. You hadn't told anyone about the breakup, you weren't even sure your friends even remembered that asshole's name.

A teardrop lands on your screen, magnifying all the magical lights of the led beneath the glad. You wipe away the tear and with that the feed refreshes. A new post has come in at the top, Res Riot's official account.

Kirishima stands with a fat white cat in his arms. He dwarfs the animal with his large stature that looks larger as he still has his Red Riot gear on. The caption reads something along the lines of "missed my precious baby."

Red wine is a dangerous thing as your body acts on its own. You go to his page to hit the little arrow to DM him. Typing out and backspacing your message as you struggle from the booze, you decide to say fuck it and use the voice memo feature. Before you know it your sniffling voice is playing back to you after you've hit send.

"My ex broke up with me before this stupid wedding. It's in two days and my family is going to roast me big time when I show up alone. They think I made that asshole up. I don't know why I'm even in your dms. Your account is probably run by some dick head who can't even capture your kindness. I guess I'm here cause my first thought seeing you on my timeline was Red Riot has always been my hero…"

Ugh totally fucking cringe.

There is no surprise as you see the three normally ominous dots pop up, probably his social media manager about to ask you to stop your "advances" as Kirishima is too busy to date and he'd hate to block you or some other bullshit.

But there it is a surprise to see a little bubble with the play button and some vertical lines in various heights. It takes your sluggish brain a moment to realize you've been sent a voice memo. Odd. Your thumb smashes the screen faster than you can think and a deep voice rumbles through the speakers of your phone.

"Actually I run my official and personal socials. And I'm sorry to hear about your ex doll. He sounds like a real ass. I'll be your hero, I'll go with you to the wedding."

Your heart stutters, no way, no way in HELL this was Red Riot. You had read about the horror stories before or pervy account managers taking advantage of women who so desperately wanted to talk to their hero.

Hell, it's happened to Dynamight plenty of times.

You swallow quickly but the bile rushes up your throat. Not just from the anxiety of a possible con but from drinking an entire bottle of wine with nothing on your stomach after months of sobriety. Quickly you stumble to the bathroom, abandoning your phone on your bed. You barely make it in time to praise the porcelain Gods before you fall onto your back. Looking up at the light in your cramped bathroom, the orb doubles and spins as you feel the Earth turning on its axis. You curl into your side using your bathmat as a pillow as you drift off into sleep, totally forgetting about the voice memo on your phone.

As you sleep peacefully on your memory foam bath rug, Kirishima settles into his nightly routine. One giant hand grabbing strands of long dark red hair into a towel while another sits snugly around his Adonis belt and the thick, black happy trail that follows up the center of his abs before spreading out onto his chest. He tosses the towel over the open door of the bathroom before sitting in his favorite armchair with phone in hand. Diamond, his beautiful white cat he rescued a few years ago, jumps onto the arm of the chair, purring loudly when Kirishima's free hand scratches her ears absentmindedly.

He chuckles to himself as he realizes exactly what he's done. Acting on a feeling instead of logic all because he heard a "damsel in distress." Starting off his rare vacation with spontaneity starting with an impromptu date with a stranger. He really isn't sure what you look like and it's obvious your handle doesn't have your real name in it, just PrincessPeach with some random numbers at the end. He takes the time to scroll through your profile. Seeing pictures of food, of many sunsets, a friend's dog that guest appears often, your own cat and plenty of strays.

It takes him a while before he sees a photo of you. His heart stutters in his chest as he looks you over. Laughing with a friend, soft lighting from strings over head that blur like little fireflies. Your smile is wide, half hidden by your hands as your eyes seem to smile with you. Sparkling as if they held stars.

For a moment Kirishima forgets how to breathe, it isn't until Diamond jumps down from the armchair does he inhale. He smiles softly to himself before he drops his towel, puts his phone on charge and promptly falls asleep in his bed.

Kirishima rises before the sun even has a chance to filter through his blinds. He sighs softly, getting up to a sitting position disturbing a fluffy white ball that lays beside him.

"Mmrow." Moon stone eyes blink slowly as they look at the mountainous man hogging the bed.

"I didn't mean to wake you sweet baby." He says softly, going to pet the soft white fur only for her to get up stretch and give him her butt before plopping back down.

"I know, mean ol' daddy woke you up too early again." He says softly, his hand falling onto her back before he rises from the bed. Fishing for his running shorts, socks, headphones and shoes. He makes his protein shake, leaning on the counter as he drinks it, looking at how you read, or better yet, listened to his message but still no reply. It was late and there was a small slurring of your words, he figures you've passed out. He just hopes you're okay.

His run goes as usual, up before anyone else unless they were the normal avid runner. Passing by the usual array of people. An old man holding onto his youth by jogging through his daily five mile morning run, Kirishima knows he runs another five in the evening while the sun is setting. He hopes he can embody some of this man's commitment when he is older. Then he passes a middle aged woman, who gives him the biggest smile as she pases, jogging backward to send him a wink before plowing ahead. Occasionally he'll see a running group or a few teens training to be heroes, they always ask if they can run his route. "It's long." He always warns in a kind, warm voice. They assure him they will be fine so far only one other person could handle his 12 mile morning run. A young woman in her second year of hero courses at UA. Since then Kirishima put in a word with his boss and so every time internships roll around she's in the office.

By the time Kirishima is rounding back towards his high rise apartment, the city begins to stir. Slowly waking as men and women in business suits rush towards the train, parents flinging open the doors or curtains fussing at their children who cling to an extra few minutes of sleep before school.

This was always his favorite part of the run, not because it was almost over, oh no it was because he had a chance to glimpse at everyday life. Of nine to fives, of school hours and after school hangs outs at snack bars or the library.

What most would call the mundane but Kirishima would never call it that. It's why he worked so hard to protect it.

Diamond greets his sweaty form at the door. Glaring angrily with her moon stone eyes. Tail swishing before she goes to the kitchen by her bowl. Waiting impatiently.

"I'm not late, sweet cheeks." He coos, and she glares, "I know I know. You're hungry now."

He opens the fridge, gets out the highest quality food there is and places it on her dish, sure to keep it all in the middle or she'll claim her bowl was empty. He added a splash of water too since the weather was starting to get hot.

He sucks down a water or two, demolishes a protein bar and then heads to the apartment gym.

A few hours roll by and without hearing from you yet his worry over your well being begins to cloud the forefront of his mind. He pauses his music, picks up his phone and talks out a voice memo.

A loud DING echoes from your room and around your skull as you rise with a throbbing headache.

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself grabbing at your head as you shakily rise to your feet. Yanking the handle of the faucet to drink from the stream before looking at yourself in the mirror.

"Ugh." You grunt ignoring your swollen face and eyes, yanking the mirror door open to snatch at the bottle of aspirin. Swallowing THREE extra strength pills before slamming the door shut and turning off the faucet. You make your way towards your bedroom, more than ready to sleep the rest of your day away. Grabbing at your phone to charge it you see the push notification of an Instagram message from Red Riot.

The fucking Red Riot.

Internally you scream before it bubbles up your throat and escapes. You fumble to unlock your phone before looking that it's a voice memo.

Mortified you realize you sent one too. And first at that.

"Fuck MEEE!" You plop onto the bed. Nervous this second voice memo is probably about how you're a weirdo or something as you relive the memory of asking him to be your plus one.

Hesitantly your thumb hovers over the play button before you find the strength to press the cool glass. A soft thunderous voice plays out.

"Good morning sleepy head. I haven't heard from you yet, I hope you're okay. Be sure to drink some water and eat something greasy. Trust me, late nights with Denki and Bakugou taught me something. Since the wedding is tomorrow I'll need a picture of your dress for the color and style so I can match you Sweet pea. Contact me soon so I can know where to pick you up."

Did he… did he just call you SWEET PEA? Your heart pounds in your chest before it registers he's asked for your dress color and lowkey asked for your address. This couldn't be real. It sounded like Kirishima, his voice familiar from interviews you've watched but it very well could be a prank. Defeated you hit the small microphone and reply.

Kirishima hears a sharp DING in his headphones over his music as he finishes his set. He wipes the sweat from his face on his shirt giving the few people in the gym a lovely view of his sweaty and thick torso. One woman trips on the treadmill but it goes unnoticed by Kirishima. He pauses his music and hits play on the little memo. Your beautiful yet groggy voice comes in through his ear buds causing Kirishima to bite his lip. It causes such a flutter of butterflies in his stomach he has to listen a second time to actually hear what you said. Although he understand, he cannot help but feel hurt by your reply.

"How do I know you're not just some pervy guy using Kirishima's Godly looks to prey on unsuspecting people."

Your phone chirps at you from the bed stand and you growl reaching for it. You had hoped your message would have been clear. An unspoken of you know they're a fucking creep taking advantage of their PR job.

"What can I do to prove it to you, Sweet Pea?"

You hate how that cute nickname sends your heart into a somersault and your stomach in delightful knots. Still your doubt pulls a harsh tut from your lips before you reply.

Kirishima doesn't need his phone to alert him that you've messaged him, he's been looking at his screen for far to long without having to restart his set. He listens to your voice as if it were music.

"Fine, you wanna prove it to me so bad. Take a picture of yourself shirtless with the word 'Sweet pea' you love so much and send it to me. No photoshop I know what my favorite hero looks like!"

For over an hour you don't hear back and you figure you showed that perv.

But now you can't sleep so you nurse a water, door dash a "greasy" breakfast all before cranking your shower as high as it can go. Your phone dings and you try to ignore it. You really do but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat. Opening the message you see a classic guy mirror selfie. Kirishima is clear as day in the photo, his large hand pointing to his bare, hairy chest where sweat pea is scrawled in his adorable handwriting. He winks at the camera as his kissable lips wear a dangerous, almost cocky eyes travel down his bulk following his happy trail that dives under a pair of black shorts, the best part of the view getting cut off by the vanity. At first you try to rationalize that this was fake but damning evidence was sitting on the vanity. A fluffy white cat in a diamond and ruby encrusted collar sits on the counter giving her owner an odd look.

His cat Diamond that everyone knows he loves and adores. Slick begins to collect between your thighs and especially so after you listen to the voice memo that comes through shortly after. His normally friendly and soft voice comes out a bit dark, husky as he says in a playfully annoyed tone.

"Now send me a picture of that dress, Sweet Pea."

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader

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ichigoromi · 3 years

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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐩 | 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

I'm up for another Sakusa angst... Yay?

I guess, I hope you guys enjoy reading?

I'm sorry if I made you cry...

All characters are aged up!

Sakusa Kiyoomi

It has been exactly 11 months, 11 days, and 11 hours since you two have decided to end the relationship.

The break was inevitable. You were studying in the States, and he is a professional athlete who has little to no time to visit you.

No matter how much you want to fix the relationship, it was beyond repair.

You started to count the days that you two have broken up for as a way to cope, but it was unhealthy for you, mentally.

Sure, your studies were going better after the breakup, but you ended up drinking till your wasted in your tiny apartment.

Seeing how happy he was on his social media platform makes you wonder if you were the one who caused the break-up after all.

Even though you two agree mutually to the breakup, it was harder on you.

You lost so much weight, and your complexion was too pale to be considered healthy.

Roll in the best friends; they practically filled your fridge and made sure you were eating your three meals.

After you gained back to a healthy weight, they took you out for a makeover trip and got you a closet makeover as well.

You got back into your school life and leaned on your friends for support, but how could you ever forget the good memories that you made with Sakusa as well.

Your friends helped you pack any momento or gifts that he gave you into a box and send it back to him since you two have broken up and as a proper closure for you two.

But there was just one thing that you can't bear to part with, his personal hoodie that he first gave you when you two started going out in high school.

Your friends had a hard time trying to persuade you to part with it but gave in to you.

Inside the box, you included a letter address to him, your one last letter to him.

It goes likes this...

Dear Mimi or Kiyoomi,

This would probably be the last time that I address you like that. I know we have decided to end our relationship, and it's all my fault even though you said it's no one's fault. I'm going to return these because these were the gifts that you gave me. You can burn or throw them away; it's all up to you. The break-up was rough, but thanks to it, I grew a lot from it. I know you recently got a new girlfriend, good for you, you look genuinely happy with her, guess I held on to you too long? I'm sorry for breaking the promise first. I'm sorry for breaking your heart; I'm sorry that I cannot be there for you. Thank you for the wonderful memories that you left me. I never stop loving you and will always be there for you.

With love,

Your first.

You wiped away the tears and signed off and place it on top of everything, and prepared to mail it.

For the first time after your break up, you felt some kind of relief.

After you mailed it out, you and your friends went for some good old Korean barbeque and tons of alcohol.

You were so drunk that your friends carried you home, and all of them stayed in your apartment, in case something happens to you.

You posted some pictures of you having a good time with your friends and knocked out from the huge amount of drinks you had.

He thought he would live his life as normal after the breakup, but he couldn't.

Everything just was not the same. The routine that he has built around you, he has to change it.

You were not in his life anymore.

Atsumu tried to cheer him up by setting him up with some of his friends, and sure they had good personalities, but they were just not you.

After months of trying to date, he finally met the one.

He was finally able to smile and be back to the normal him.

His team was relieved that he was not in his depressed state and living well.

Atsumu and Bokuto still keep in close contact with you, following you on their social media platforms.

When they thought he was not listening, he could listen to them calling you and face timing.

Based on Atsumu and Bokuto's reaction, he can tell that you are doing good.

He knows that your graduation was in a few weeks and you would continue to further your studies there.

Bokuto and Atsumu, along with some of your high school friends, were going to fly to the States to attend your graduation.

He wants to go to, but he has a new person in his life now.

A few days later, he received a box from your address.

He went to open the box in his dorm room, and it was the gifts and the letters you two exchanged since high school.

When he read the letter that you wrote him, he broke down.

You were his first love, the very first person that he made friends with, the very first person that made his heart skip, and the very one that made him the person that he is today.

It was bad. The feelings that he thought was once gone came back again.

He never stops loving you, and he will continue to love you as long as he can.

He needed some time away from dating and some time to heal.

The last gift he could give you was something that would last till you guys meet next time.

Graduation came faster than you expected, and finally, you graduate successfully after going through all those obstacles. Your family and friends from Japan are here to celebrate this joyous event with you.

You took pictures with everyone, chatted with a few of your fellow graduates, and managed to make some new connections.

"Oh my god, why is her campus so big? Did we made it in time?"

"Of course not! What did ya think?!"

Your two favourite people are here too.

"Tsumu! Bokkun!"

You waved them over, and they were carrying a bouquet of flowers and a bunch of gifts.

They threw their arms around you and pulls you into their embrace, and it was heartwarming and suffocating. Imagine getting bear-hugged by two professional volleyball players.

"L-let me go!" You managed to squeeze out a call for help, and they immediately let you go.

"This gift, open when you are alone."

It was a small bag, but you could not help but wonder who gave you that gift.

- - -

After getting lunch with your family and friends, you went back to your apartment alone to start packing up for your new journey.

You were going to move to Korea for your Master's program. Most of your close friends knew about this and hook you up with their close contacts in Korea so that you would have some form of support in a foreign country.

While packing, you remember the gift that Bokuto and Atsumu told you to open when you are alone.

You grab it, and it was a letter and a blue velvet ring box.

Immediately you recognised the handwriting. That neat and clean handwriting would belong to none other than Sakusa himself.

Congratulations on your graduation.

I have received your mail, and there's so much that I want to say. I apologise for not making it to your graduation, but those two idiots are there to represent me. After receiving that box from you and that letter, I immediately broke up with her. I realised that my feelings for her were not genuine, and I was just using her as a rebound, and I break things off because I don't want to hurt her further.

I'll wait for you. I know this may sound far-fetched, but will you marry me?

I don't expect any replies, but please accept the ring if you agree to marry me.

If you reject me, you can return the ring to Atsumu.

I'll be waiting,

Sakusa Kiyoomi

This man...even he is at the other part of the world, he still manages to make your heart skip. You open the box and inside one of the most dazzling rings you have laid your eyes on.

And you recognise it.

It was a Harry Winston.

You used to joke to him in high school that you want it to be a Harry Winston ring when he proposed.

Now, it's not a joke. You slid the ring onto your left hand, and it fits perfectly.

You dialled the number that you know it like it's the back of your hand.

"You idiot, do you still love me after all this time? What's with the proposal? It's s-so lame." You sniffled over the phone.

"Really? Does that mean you are not taking me back? In high school, you said that you were going to kick my ass if I break up with you. You wanted a proposal with a Harry Winston, right?" Hearing his voice, you broke down.

"I-I m-missed y-you so much! Why do you still have so much effect on me? You bad man!" You wailed into the phone and hear his deep chuckles.

"Oh my, you became more of a baby after we broke up. Do you want to see me now?"

"What? You mean facetime?"

"No, come to the park near your apartment building."

You grabbed your coat and rushed out of your building. There's no way he is here. No way. How could it be...

And he was there. With his arms wide open and a small smile on his handsome face.

"H-how? I-What? You idiot!" You threw yourself into his embrace, and he wraps his arms around you, and you sobbing in his chest.

"I flew in, of course. I got the timing right." He cups your face gently to make you look up to him. Then he saw the ring on your left hand and kisses you on the lips.

You shut your eyes and savours the kiss that was needed after being apart for so long.

"Sakusa Kiyoomi, you are one crazy man." You shook your head and kiss his lips again.

"Yeah, I'm crazy for you." He kisses you again for a long time.

I can't end it with a sad ending; I'm sorry to you guys if you wanted a sad ending. I'm crazy for soft Sakusa.

I love him.

I hope you guys enjoy reading this!

Thank you for reading!

Stay safe and take care!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

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soloharryenthusiast · 7 years

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oh my god ana i finished the picture of dorian gray the unscensored version and please don't disown me but i was so...disappointed? with it. i don't know, from what people were talking about this hedonistic life he lived i was expecting like masquerade parties and orgies and a ton of drugs but all i read was how he had these obsessions with jewels and like embroidered tapestry???? maybe i was relying to heavily on what i had envision in my head !!! idk ??

I’ve been staring at the screen for a good 20 minutes writing and deleting typing and backspacing and yet here I am writing the opening sentence to what I think will be an Unnecessarily Long Reply for the umpteenth time. I apologise. It’s just that I know & love this book so intimately and effortlessly that the thought of someone being disappointed by it leaves me gobsmacked. Let’s see, let’s see.

The fact that you approached The Picture expecting explicitly illustrated instances of raw hedonism is hardly your fault. Every blurb and every ~critic’s~ insistence on classifying it as Gothic Horror would lead you to believe that this is a novel about a beautifully wicked man whose portrait grows old in his place. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. The ageing portrait, the beautiful man who never changes in appearance… that’s merely the excuse, the metaphor Oscar chose to convey a greater ideal, to serve Art, to express what Victorian society insisted on repressing. Because that’s one thing you ought to keep in mind: As brave, as beyond-his-years as Oscar was, 1880’s Victorian England was still 1880’s Victorian England. Oscar couldn’t have expanded on Dorian’s hedonism more graphically even if he wanted to, or else no one would’ve printed it in the first place. But back to basics: Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul (TPODG Chapter 2). This book is an ode to the senses, a celebration of art for art’s sake. It’s not about the orgies Dorian partakes in or the drugs he experiments with or even the atrocities he commits post-Henry, it’s about everything in between. You speak of his obsession with jewels and embroidered tapestry, but this is not an obsession born from a materialistic streak in him, but from his fascination, or rather his reverential attitude towards beauty in all its forms. Dorian doesn’t love these things because they are expensive or exclusive, but because in his eyes they exist with the sole purpose of being admired. Because that’s what lies at the centre of the Aesthetic Movement - Oscar being the face of it -, the worship of beauty & pleasure above all else. That’s what lies at the centre of this book. But underneath all that the fact remains that Dorian was influenced into becoming who he eventually became, because he was forced to confront a reality that was much too great for him to bear. It’s easy to forget that once upon a time Dorian used to be good, that he wasn’t always vain and selfish and cruel. I think he often tried to forget that, too. Tried to drown out whatever remnants of his old self came knocking at his door by indulging in everything & anything worth indulging in. It was, perhaps, some of Henry’s cowardice that rubbed off on him. From Dorian Gray as a Symbolic Representation of Wilde’s Personality: “[Dorian’s] subsequent passion for objets d'art, so lengthily described in chapter XI, is simply a way ‘by which he could escape, for a season, from the fear that seemed to him at times to be almost too great to be borne’ (140). He is afraid of that side of his own personality for which he is not prepared to accept responsibility’. Take, for instance, what Dorian said to Henry about Sibyl’s suicide: “I must admit that this thing that has happened does not affect me as it should. It seems to me simply like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play. It has all the terrible beauty of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in which I took a great part, but by which I have not been wounded”; Dorian, unable &/or unwilling to accept that his actions have moral consequences, has chosen to seek refuge in art, by choosing to see life from a purely aesthetic perspective. His sorrows are Romeo’s, his madness he borrowed from Hamlet, his joys belong to Bacchus. The Picture is, I’d say, a philosophical novel with Gothic elements to it, not the other way around. It’s a menagerie of sins disguising themselves as a thousand shades of grey (ha!). Reading this book, becoming involved in Dorian’s descent into wickedness, it’s supposed to be a subtle, almost imperceptible transition; we are, as we read The Picture, experiencing things vicariously through Dorian. The devil’s in the details. We, too, are kept away from the ever-changing portrait, charmed by Dorian’s faux naivete and bewitched by his looks. Distracted - or fooled - by ephemeral but true displays of humanity - his initial interest in Sibyl Vane, a moment of pity after Basil’s confession, ‘you must always call me Master Dorian, Leaf […] I assure you I am quite as fond of jam now as I used to be’ (chapter 8), his treatment of Alan Campbell in chapter 12, how you can feel Dorian’s pity for him, the by now out-of-character yet ultimately touching gentleness with which he treats him, even while asking him to do the unthinkable - all of these things make it so easy for us to forget about the skeletons in the closet, the picture in the attic. The chapters about the tapestry and the china and the perfumes are Oscar’s way of showing you what Dorian’s life was all about. What he gave his soul up for: Freedom of sensation. ‘TO drift with every passion till my soul Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play’. The Picture is not a graphic novel. It’s not a Horror novel. It’s not a cautionary tale. It doesn’t hand you vices & morbid obsessions & forbidden desires on a silver plate, it alludes to them, it whispers them in your ear, it offers you glimpses but never the full picture. And therein lies its charm, methinks.

The full text of Oscar’s Helas, because I think it’s relevant to Dorian’s, shall we say, predicament, and very reminiscent of the whole “Lord Henry is what the world thinks me” bit:

TO drift with every passion till my soul Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play, Is it for this that I have given away Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control?— Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll Scrawled over on some boyish holiday With idle songs for pipe and virelay Which do but mar the secret of the whole. Surely there was a time I might have trod The sunlit heights, and from life’s dissonance Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God: Is that time dead? lo! with a little rod I did but touch the honey of romance— And must I lose a soul’s inheritance?

#this is very long and all over the place i'm sorry it's late and there's So Much i want to say #but it's okay if you didn't like it! i shall not disown you not now not ever #oooh if you want a proper 'nsfw' Dorian Gray maybe read Will Self's Dorian: An Imitation #from Goodreads: '[Self] reimagines the novel in the milieu of London's early-80s art scene'#it's Very Graphic though and Self loves to throw the f-word around a lot.#i mean the story takes place during the AIDS epidemic but you know. he does overdo it sometimes.#it was a good book so if you're not easily shocked by extremely vulgar language you should give it a go!#suicide mention tw #murder tw #drugs tw #i dont know what to tag this as #Anonymous #oscar wilde #G O D i feel like i wrote a lot but barely said anything #what i'm saying is:#the sins dorian committed are of little to no importance. oscar doesn't expand on them because they are only a side-effect of a Bigger Event #which is Dorian coming to know and eventually losing himself through sensory experiences #Dorian dedicating himself to experiencing discovering and inventing new pleasures #it wasn't sex what drove dorian to doing what he did. it wasn't drugs or money either. it was Art. beauty is terror. and all that.

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