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#this might be kind of pretentious too
starflungwaddledee · 3 months
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Hear me out…Meta Knight and Starstruck
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✧˖°.✧ gravity ✧˖°.✧ ɡravɪti (noun) 1. the force that attracts a body towards the centre of the earth or towards any other physical body having mass 2. the degree of intensity of gravity, measured by acceleration 3. extreme importance; seriousness 4. solemnity of manner
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bmpmp3 · 14 days
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sorry to be a bit of a hater but i do wish youtubers weren't so scared of making their videos just like, "reviews", whys everything gotta be a "video essay" all the time. every day my recommendations are filled with 40 minute videos titled "_____: An Underrated Masterpiece" where the first like five minutes are reading the wikipedia definition of "masterpiece" in a somber voice with dramatic themed text on screen. please just tell me how good or bad you think something is and use the rest of the runtime to explain why. you dont need to put on all these airs
#i know the ahem. channel. of some awe....... that whole situation kind of scared people off from using the word review#but like we live in the future now. you can make a review. i believe in you#AND LIKE i like a good video essay!! but im picky. because i read academic shit for fun#when i see a capital E essay im expecting theses. im expecting sub headers. im expecting multiple examples AND footnotes with asides#(and i know this is a controversial topic but i do expect them to be long. because if you read aloud a 4 page journal article its gonna)#(take a bit of time LOL maybe i just read too much academia shit. but i dunno man. theres not a lot you can say about like a big huge)#(topic with multiple angles if you only have like 10 minutes. maybe i just talk too slow. i need to breath <3 )#theres other formats too. surveys. retrospectives. informative essays. persuasive essays. etc#and like i also read lots of reviews not just of like movies and books but of like gallery exhibitions and shit!! they can be extremely#interesting a lot of work and some really beautiful writing!! nothing wrong with a review!!! theyre important#but i do get annoyed with like. the odd air of pretention i see in a lot of video essays. especially cause its usually not backed up by#the content. i dont care for those airs in academia either. nor do i like it in documentaries#just talk naturally. you'll find your voice. there might be pretention in it in the end but it'll be yours#if im making sense. i hear a lot of people talking in a pretention that is not their own. something they put on because thats what they#think they should do. you need to find your own pretention. be pretentious in a way that feels natural to youuuuuu#hell im being pretentious. about this LOL but like its my own. it is a pretentiousness ive built over the past half decade#play around. write a blog. i dunno. find your voice dear youtubers. find your voice
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nostalgia-tblr · 1 year
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I had another fic idea and the brain was like "no, that's too fluffy and romantic and YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE NICE THINGS, PEOPLE WOULD JUDGE YOU" but then I went "but what if it was kind of... comedy fluff?" and brain went "...yeah, okay, if you really must." Which I fucking HATE! Why can't I write nice things, brain?! Everyone else is allowed to! FFS, it's fanfiction, it doesn't have to be ~deep~ or any of that shit!
This has actually been a bit of an issue when I'm trying to write The WIP because while I told myself yeah sure go ahead and write the massively self-indulgent epically long (by my own odd standards) fic but still sometimes I get stuck because I'm not "allowed" to write something that appeals to me and my own sometimes niche interests??
Like angst I can do because that's "proper" somehow? WTF is that about? It's not proper! It's still daft! And comedy I'm allowed because I dunno apparently if it will make someone laugh that means it has "value"? It's very annoying, I don't like it.
Do other people have this? How do you deal with it? You'd think after all this time I'd be okay with writing any old shit that I want to. If anything it might be worse now. I remember years ago I could tell myself "Look, if you've spelled most of it correctly then it's already in like the better half of all the fanfic on the internet" which isn't really TRUE but I could go along with that and let myself write whatever-the-fuck I wanted to.
You know how many of us go "I'll write this fucked up thing... but I'll post it as Anon"? I get that with fluffy fic ideas as well. Or with things that are "too shippy" (WTF?) It's just such a stupid and weird form of self-criticism and it bothers me a lot.
#ranting at myself#writing stuff#possibly this is a mental illness thing but i don't think it is but it might be?#i am Quite Mad but it usually manifests related to fic as the usual “you suck!!” or irritating OCD things about wordcounts or such#this is a VERY SPECIFIC thing and i don't even know where it came from?#maybe i'm just pretentious? do i look pretentious? i might be?#(the fluffy thing was sylki fic where spinning off on the 'oh no unable to express feelings!' they have to pass each other notes)#(the comedy element was that this is Bloody Stupid and also Mobius attempts to Help (oh no) and etc)#(will i ever be able/“allowed” to actually write that thing? dunno!)#the Frigga thing also suffers from “that bit is despicably adorable you should be ASHAMED of yourself”#.The WIP? currently stuck at “okay now he needs to Hold The Baby. this is an important bit you can't skip it. but babies are Too Twee”#“so you may NOT just write someone Holding The Baby because that's like something people might actually want to read!”#“the murders are fine you can write murders. murder isn't twee. babies are VERY twee though.”#PROBLEM: there are several babies in this fic and the next chapter is like... ENTIRELY baby-based#(the end of the entire fic is already written and it's Too Twee as well but i've kind of gone immune to that because it's existed a while)#(oh no did i just spoiler a Happy Ending?!)#(SPOILER: kind of. it depends who you backed in this race and whether you wanted them to Become Better People)#anyway am gonna post this now before i change my mind as i probably should#fic related
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nowendil · 10 months
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hm. might have just felt the first flutters incoming of gender plate tectonics
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serethereal · 1 year
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ok..off to complete the brutal labors that have been cruelly thrust upon me (coursework i've put off)..goodbye loyal friends and foes (sparkling water enjoyers)..stay safe in my years away (i will likely be back within the hour)
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museenkuss · 2 years
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Recently, having had to interact with (certain not all of course etc etc) BA students has made me want to reconsider my plans of becoming a prof. Not sure I’d be able to handle the pretentious edginess gracefully.
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tornioduva · 4 months
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Dungeon meshi and body proportions
Ok, i'm feeling the rush i got from binging the manga this last week is starting to fade away, i'll be back to being a normal person soon i think. at least, that is before i find a new something for me to dive into uhuh.
Before that happens, i want to praise Ryoko Kui for one last think. The design of the characters!
For years i've expressed (maybe not so much online) my hate towards the "anime style", this homogenization of traits and beauty standards to an artificial degree, and the mass spread and consumption of it. yes, trends exist for a reason, this is not the first nor the last art current to be popular and i'm not the first detractor of one in history. I do think there is something uniquely harmful in this one though, and that is why i'm able to find the energy to be such a pretentious dipshit about it. That is a discussion for another day though.
All this to say that going through Dungeon Meshi and seiing these characters, plus (and in a way because of it) all the additional sketches of the daydream hour bonus sections, was such a breath of fresh air! (at least for what concerns japanese exported stories)
All i could say and praise in regard to character designs in general is perfectly expressed in this video, which i recommend you to watch if you want to hear my opinions (and the video author's too, uhuh):
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I want to leave you though with at least one specific praise for me: Falin.
i've seen countless time people (online) just not understanding how people's body work, how much differences there can be and how proportions do distribute and affect the body. in anime I see a lot of short and tall people (mostly women girls) that share the same proportions despite their actual height, and that often leads to think "yeah, she is short" and than she's tall when around someone, or (most often) the contrary. same lenght of limbs, same head to body proportions, and little details like this.
Falin you can tell at a glance she is a tall woman before she's around anyone, even when she is standing near her brother who is taller than her.
Kui did her homework in studying bodies and variations, and, whether consciously or not, she differentiated her in body in subtle but fundamental ways: her head being slightly smaller than her body, the neck being fairly long, and her having somewhat broader shoulders.
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I accept that there might be an element of suggestion at play here, considering also how she is dressed most of the time, but I really do think there is a direct effort at differentiation here.
This is the first time in a long time (in a series like this at least) where i've seen a woman carrying herself around others and the space around here kind of like a person like me, tall, would; at first i didn't think much of it, but then i saw her near other characters and....i don't know, i felt a warm, joyful feeling, seeing that i was right in recognizing that trait and being right.
I was especially happy in seeing her next to marcille. not so much for the height difference, but for how different they were in proportions and mannerism. A lesser manga i fear would have used marcille's body type and way of moving and interacting as the default for most other girls, but here she was uniquely herself!
Now, i could've used more extreme exemples to show how this author rocks in body types representations (while aknowledging there could've been even more diversification still), given there are far larger, taller and stranger women, but to me, nailing the little, most subtle details in such a chirurgical manner shows a greater level of mastery and comprehension. As such, Falin left me with a deeper fascination than most other characters.
Sorry for this wall of text, but i needed to let my happy thoughts go, so that i could be free again uhuh.
Feel free to tell me that i'm wrong, or that i should just accept anime media as is. i'm just really happy Dungeon meshi exists as is and i want Ryoko Kui to keep refining her craft, and drawing beautiful women and dwarves.
Plus, this was very much a stream of consciousness, i didn't go into technical details about what i think conveyed what i described, but if someone is interested, or does not get what i'm saying (while expressing it in a curious and gentle way, i won't respond to spiteful assholes), i'll be happy to make a follow up post in which i try to dissect this! For example, i didn't reread the whole manga to find examples of her, i just went to the wiki uhuh. in a follow up post maybe i'll try to go through chapters and pick more specific examples of her.
Anyway, have a good day!
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ravens-two · 4 months
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PAC: What's Your Planet Archetype?
This reading includes:
your planet archetype
how it affects the way others perceive you
The extended reading includes:
your aesthetic
the best way to work with this planet archetype
a mini-playlist that captures your vibe
Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone.
TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC
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Pile 1
Ace of Cups, Six of Pentacles, Coming of Winter
"It comes in lullabies deep within your mirrored flesh. Alas, it is time to lay your quivering chest upon the winter's coming."
Moon
Pile 1 your planet archetype is the Moon. In astrology the Moon represents our inner world, that which is hidden, but also comes to the surface in the shape of feelings and emotions. Those who are ruled by the Moon tend to be highly emotional, empathetic and artistic. All of these qualities are shown in your cards here. The Ace of Cups is the overflow of emotion that you feel, even by just watching a film. You feel deeply and sometimes that creates a dissonance with the people around you, as they don't understand things on the same emotional level that you do. This also makes you very intuitive. You are capable of picking up on a lot of information from subtle cues. You might be able to finish other people's sentences or to pick up on things and feelings that they haven't revealed.
Most likely you are more of an introvert, as your inner world is richer than the outer world. You don't get bored easily, because your imagination is incredibly rich. It's easy to create a story in your mind and to feel it deeply. You're also a really good listener. People might have a tendency of just opening up to you, even if they hadn't intended to do so. There's just something about you that makes them feel heard and understood. I also get the feeling that a lot of you also act a bit as therapists or psychoanalysts for yourselves and for friends. You listen to your friends and help them to work through their feelings, thoughts or problems.
How it affects how others perceive you
The first thing I'm getting is that you have a lovely voice, pile 1. People enjoy hearing you talk and you might also like to sing as well. I also get the feeling that people see you as someone who is wise beyond their years, but also as someone who tends to be fair. They know that they can come to you to help mediate a problem, because you'll be kind, but fair at the same time.
Some people see you as being closed off and sometimes even a little bit pretentious. They think that you're faking your sensitivity to get attention. This doesn't reflect the way most people see you though. In general, you're seen as someone who is very empathetic and compassionate. I get the feeling that most people think that you're vegetarian/vegan or that you care a lot about protecting animals. Also, you're seen as someone who "will turn the other cheek". They think that you're more inclined to forgive and forget, rather than to confront someone.
Some people might be a bit wary of approaching you, because they think that you won't be interested in them. Sometimes it seems that you are too deep for others to understand. But, there's also a vibe of mystery and a sharpness in your eyes that makes you very interesting. I also think that you give the vibe of being into spirituality or being very intuitive. Which can be a bit off-putting for some, and attractive to others.
Physical characteristics will be different for everyone of course, but I think that most of you have very intense eyes. It's the type of eyes that it feels like you're staring right into someone's soul. I think that some people are even intimidated about this, because it feels like you're jugdging them. It's like you'll know if they're lying - at least that's their perception.
Pile 2
Ten of Wands, Three of Wands, The Veil
"It's quite possible your eyes have become the fog in which you dwell. A half-swallowed glimpse of all that you truly are or can be, that the tears you bleed are ready for the storms to turn the skies inward."
Pluto
Pile 2 your archetype is Pluto. This is one of the dark planets, it deals with power, destruction and transformation. Scorpio is a zodiac sign that has a similar energy to this planet. You're not scared of change, in fact, I think that you crave it. You're constantly evolving, changing and transforming yourself - I don't think that you have a final shape in mind, it's transformation for its own sake. You remind me of the Ouroboros actually. The snake that eats itself.
Your energy is dark, thick and mysterious. You share some similarities with pile 1, in the sense that you're both very intuitive, mysterious and deep. However, while pile 1 is deep in an emotional sense, you're deep in a more mental sense. What I mean by this is that you are more cerebral. You like to explore what is hidden and taboo. You like to explore topics such as sex, addiction, death, philosophical topics like why are we here, is god real, that sort of thing. You're not really into small talk, and you might start a conversation with a topic that is too deep. As you like to explore what is hidden some of you might have a tendency to try to figure out mysteries. This may mean that you like reading/watching murder mysteries or that you indulge in conspiracy theories. Some of you also like to talk (and act!) about topics that make people uncomfortable like politics and activism.
Something that can't go unmentioned is your interest in the occult. For your oracle card you even got The Veil. You see more than people realize and I mean this in two ways: you might have some sort of psychic powers, or it's just your ability to pick up information that hasn't been revealed. I think that you're quite prone to lightbulb moments, where you suddenly have big epiphanies.
How it affects how others perceive you
Do you know that dark feminine aesthetic that is so trendy right now? This is that exact vibe. Others see you almost like a vampire, something that is dark, mysterious and alluring, with just a hint of dangerous. Even if you're not conventionally beautiful people are attracted to you. It's the way you walk, talk and present yourself. The cool thing here is that this isn't really intentional on your part. Sure, you can amp it up if you want to, but it's just the way that you are naturally.
As we talked about in the previous section you love talking about deep and taboo topics, because of this some people perceive you a bit negatively. They might see you as a contrarian or edgy, it's like you're just talking about these things to rile people up or to be different (this is how they view it, not necessarily how it truly is). Others think that talking with you can be a bit dangerous because you never know what might come up and they may be refuse to engage in certain topics. Other people are put off by the way you eschew cultural norms and just start talking about these taboo topics. While some see this in a negative light, there are also people who admire the way you can just say what you think and bring up these topics without fear. It makes them a little braver themselves.
You might be seen as someone who is very sexual or sensual, or even as someone who is sexually liberated just because you don't conform to the way things have been up until now. This may attract weird people or stalkers. People also see you as someone who works hard, but tends to take on more than what they can chew. Most people think that you're going to go far in life and that you have the potential to be very successful. However, they don't see you being the center of attention.
Pile 3
Three of Pentacles, Hierophant, The Underworld
"Hand over your known, a shift is near. Take a leap, your journey is clear."
Saturn
Pile 3 your planet archetype is Saturn. In astrology this is the planet of time, restriction, order and growth. This isn't an easy planet to deal with, and often it's guilty of presenting us with our most difficult challenges. This shows me that you have already been through a lot, everything that you have achieved has been through blood, sweat and tears. But, it also shows me that you don't shy away from a challenge. You're a strong person, because life has made you so. In your place a lot of people would break.
The Hierophant is a great card to show this Saturn energy as it embodies hierarchy and power struggles. You're someone who doesn't really like change and appreciates the way our society it's constructed. Sure, it has flaws, but it doesn't mean that it's a bad system. With Saturn being your planet archetype you understand that there's a reason for the existence of hierarchies and that power can only be achieved through a combination of effort and experience.
You work really hard, pile 3. You know what you want and how to make it happen, but it doesn't mean that the road to get there is easy. You also know how to work together with others and see the value in cooperation and community. I feel like you're someone who is very active in their community - you might even do some activism work for the betterment of your community. You enjoy taking care of others, and a lot of you are the Mom friend of your respective groups. I also get the feeling that a lot of you are the eldest sibling or, the older daughter.
How it affects how others perceive you
Others see you as someone who tends to stick by the rules and who doesn't think too much outside the box. If things have always worked this way why should you try a new way and waste time and resources? This how others see you. To them you are very non-nonsense. To some people you might come off as someone who is all work and no play.
Most people see you as being very ambitious and someone who will definitely reach high places. People think that you are very respectful and know how to conduct yourself in different places - like adjusting your posture and language in the group you're in. In general, you're seen as being a good communicator and I think that a lot of you have deeper voices. You seem to talk a little bit slower and with good diction. Also, sometimes the way you talk is almost like someone who is giving a speech (in a good way).
When it comes to seduction, people see you as someone who is very classy and most definitely out of their league. Your standards are super high and people think that they would never be good enough for you. Your flirting style is subtle and again, quite classy, a bit old-fashioned even. People expect that you will want to be romanced (if you're a woman) or taking the initiative and do the romancing (if you're a man).
Most people see you as being very traditional, even when it comes to politics and gender roles (again this is just their perspective and not the objective truth). I also get the vibe that some people think that you are very closed off and that they don't get to see the real you, just the persona that you're projecting.
Pile 4
Chariot, Eight of Pentacles, Crystals and Herbs
"Oh what medicine, what sacredness to behold. A dash of healing straight from Mother's home."
Mars
Pile 4, your planet archetype is Mars. Mars is the fiery planet of conflict, passion and drive. Something that I get right away is that you might be very into sports or dance, or that you move in a very graceful way. You're a go getter, pile 4. Differently from pile 3, you're not someone who wants to achieve things for status, but because you love the thrill of going after something. You are passionate and very outspoken. You have strong beliefs and you don't shy away from stating them. I get the vibe that most of you talk quite loudly.
This is a very specific vibe, but I think that most of you prefer to interact with physical things rather than technology. Basically the embodiment of "go touch some grass". You like arguing and play-fighting with your friends. You tend to have touch as love language, rather than talking about your feelings. When it comes to emotions I think that they can be very big and explosive almost.
I also get the vibe that most of you talk quite quickly as well, and sometimes it might be hard for other people to keep up with what you're saying. You're full of enthusiasm most of the time and tend to hype up and motivate your friends when you feel they need an extra push. When you're working on something it's easy for you to be completely focused on that and block everything out.
How it affects how others see you
Other people see you as someone who is very passionate and for some it seems that you would be quick to anger. They tend to see you as being impulsive and someone who acts without thinking. It's interesting because I think that a lot of people tend to underestimate you for some reason. It's like they think that what they see is what they'll get and that you don't have much depth beyond that.
You're also seen as someone who is very driven and very active. People think that you're always doing something and always occupied. I also get the vibe that you're seen as someone who is in shape or who exercises.
When it comes to a more physical side of you I think that your facial expressions are quite intense. If you're happy or sad or confused it can be seen clearly on your face. In general you also seem to move gracefully or if that doesn't apply you move in a very distinctive way.
When it comes to sexuality and seduction people think that you'll take the initiative and just ask someone out. People also tend to think that you're very sexual (I kinda see the Spicy Latina trope here for you guys) and even a bit promiscuous. People are attracted to you and they might project that negatively onto you.
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seamanequin · 2 months
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my take on needles. shes got them hogs out u can hear it on the tone.
also i for some reason feel like associating him with like. botox kind of needles. so i gave him like a botched work face. this might change if he shows up again this is me kinda throwin things at the wall bc "dude with needles" feels too simple for my pretentious ass
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vulpisnocturna · 8 months
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Binding Vow - Part III
This is the last part of Binding Vow 🤍
Part I
Part II
Read on AO3
I do not condone this behaviour. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if you find any of them triggering.
Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Chrollo being a pretentious bastard, Chrollo mansplains, Emotional Manipulation, Controlling behaviour, Yandere Chrollo, Kidnapping, Captivity, Reader is struggling, dubcon, NSFW
Word Count: 7.6k
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You were insane. You were deranged, and spineless and pathetic. Waking up with Chrollo’s arm holding you to him, possessive and stifling as always, you had actually felt good about it. You, the captive, the prisoner, the trophy possession he had decided to steal for himself. You had liked his touch, and had felt comforted by it. You had wanted the moment to last forever, that feeling of being in Chrollo’s good books and not having to fear for his next move. If you just accepted it, liked the physical reaction of your body, did what he wanted, it was so much easier.
The past two weeks after your escape had almost been... peaceful. Chrollo hadn’t punished you, and so long as you sat on his lap, made out with him and spoke to him, he was gentle, kind and lenient. He was waiting for you to sleep with him, not forcing himself on you, even though you weren’t sure you would even push him away. After all, kissing him felt so disgustingly good. Human contact felt so comforting, and you deserved to feel good, right? You had lived in torment for months now, and now that you had a modicum of normalcy, of happiness, it was normal to want to keep it. It was normal to want Chrollo to be happy. If Chrollo was happy, or whatever the comparable emotion was for someone like him, you were safe, comforted, treated kindly.
But this was Chrollo. Did you really want Chrollo to be happy, to show you that shit-eating smug smirk of his? To get what he wanted?
No. This wasn’t about Chrollo at all. This was about you. You were just looking out for yourself. Escape was impossible, and you would not get any mercy from him a second time even if you tried a second attempt. This was about self-preservation. This was about building a life for yourself with what you had. In that way, wasn’t this also brave?
‘Good morning, my love’ his husky voice reverberated in the crook of your neck, and he placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, holding you closer, fingertips stroking your stomach. You tensed up a little, but did not attempt to push him away. Good mood. He was still in a good mood. You had learnt to tell his moods apart even though most of the time his face was blank or smug.
He turned you, stroking your hair and smiling at you, his eyes gleaming with some kind of emotion you were unable to name.
‘I was thinking that you have been so good for me lately, darling. I am willing to put behind the whole mistake of your escape if you continue to be so lovely and sweet. And, I was thinking I could take you on a date today. How does that sound?’ he asked, and you tried to contain the way your chest felt light with gratitude. He was willing to take you outside? Apart from your botched plan of escape, you hadn’t been outside for more than two months. You wanted it so badly. You needed it. Needed to see the outside world, needed to stretch your legs, to breathe in the clean air.
‘Uhm- where?’ you asked, still reticent about sounding too enthusiastic. This was still Chrollo, you reminded yourself. Still your kidnapper.
But... he was willing to take you outside. Even if you had tried to escape.
‘If you don’t feel up to it, we’ll stay home, of course. Don’t push yourself’ he said, stroking your cheek. Your breath faltered. No, you needed it.
‘No- I want to!’ you stammered, scared he might just be taunting you. It would destroy you if that was true. But Chrollo simply gave a soft laugh.
‘Relax, darling. I knew it would make you happy. We can go to an art gallery, and then, have some dinner before we come back’ he said, fiddling with the strap of your silk tank top, one of the many flimsy clothes he had bought for you, ‘however, there are some guidelines. They’re non-negotiable. But, if you follow them, you can expect to go on many more outings in the future’
Rules. He was giving you rules. You already had a feel for what he’d say, but you honestly did not care. So long as you got to see the outside world, you would do anything. Besides, trying to escape under his watchful eye would be impossible, especially since escaping when he was supposed to be away for hours had proven itself to be a complete disaster.
‘First, do not try to run from me. You know what would happen if you did. Do not ruin your streak, darling. Second, make no attempts to ask anyone to help you run from me. If you did, I’m afraid I would have to dispose of them, and you do not want that to happen, do you? Third, you must tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point. Do not force yourself to endure discomfort just to be outside. If you wish to go home at any point, we will, no questions asked. Fourth, I want to choose your clothes. It’s only fair, since I know the dress requirements of the place I plan to choose. Alright?’ he said, scanning your face.
You had expected the first two rules, and you did not even question them in your mind. Of course he would say that. But the third? Why would you feel distressed about being outside? It was all you ever needed or wanted. But you supposed you could accept, since it wasn’t going to happen. Chrollo had a nasty habit of picking your outfits anyway, it wouldn’t change anything. As revealing as he could make them, you could put up with it, if it meant you got to go. You doubted his nasty jealousy would allow him to make you go naked outside.
‘Okay’ you only said, and he smiled.
‘Good’ he smiled, kissing your forehead. Again, the fact that you did not flinch surprised you. He had kissed you so much in the past week that now, you saw it as normal. It shouldn’t be. But it was. And it meant you were going outside.
‘We’ll have breakfast outside. I’ll shave and have a shower in the main bathroom. If you wish to have one too, you can use this one. Unless you wish to join me’ he said, voice roguish and tempting, despite the fact that it only brought a grimace and a burning feeling on your face.
‘I’ll take this bathroom’ you muttered sourly. Chrollo did not seem fazed in the slightest as he stretched like a cat and lifted himself off the bed.
‘As you wish, darling’ he said, heading towards the wardrobe. You didn’t even want to see him leer at all the outfits he’d bought you, you didn’t want the anxiety of wondering if he’d pick one of those skimpy skirts that barely covered your ass. So you turned away again, facing the curtains of the wide window that offered a view of the whole city.
‘There. That’s perfect’ you heard, and curiosity (or maybe it was dread?) made you turn again, staring at the sage green dress he’d picked. It was fairly modest for his tastes, you thought. The length was a respectable one, possibly reaching the middle of your thighs, and the top had a cowl neckline that would expose some of your cleavage, but not too much. You were impressed. But perhaps you should have sniffed out the trap, because his other hand was holding matching black bra and panties, both obscene, all lace and barely concealing fabric. You tensed up, your cheeks heating up, mortified rage building up inside you as you glowered at him.
‘Consider this my payment for this date, darling. It’s only my imagination that will benefit from you wearing this, anyway. Unless you plan to seduce me’ he said slyly, smirking at you. You sneered. Of course not. All your physical contact was initiated or brought on by him. You didn’t want Chrollo. You didn’t like him. He was... a prick. He just happened to be unfairly hot. And good at sex.
‘I’m planning no such thing’ you snarled, and he tilted his head, folding the clothes and placing them on the bed.
‘Then I do not see an issue. Of course, you could go without wearing any. Or we could stay home. Your decision’ he said simply, nonchalantly.
Ah. Your decision. The mockery of one, at most.
‘Whatever’ you said, averting your eyes. Chrollo shot you one last look full of yearning before he grabbed a black suit from the wardrobe along with a white shirt and a black tie, exiting the bedroom.
You buried your face in the pillow, unwilling to look too much at the lingerie. Was he genuine when he said it would only be for his imagination? Or did he want you to wear it because he planned to fuck you that night? You hated the tightening of your lower stomach at the thought.
No, you didn’t want it to happen. It was dread, not longing.
You decided to act with the impression that he would not and stood up, snatching the clothes and locking yourself in the bathroom. Chrollo had never walked in on you in the bathroom, for which you were grateful. It was a minimal respect of your privacy, but for someone who crossed almost all of your boundaries with no regard for your say in the matter, it was astounding that he hadn’t picked the bathroom lock to get to you. And perhaps because it was your safest space from him, you had never tried to prolong your time in there or hide in that room, because you did not want him to take away what little privacy you had if he was under the impression you were using it to avoid him.
Perhaps it had to do with his gentlemanly façade, the front he put on, acting as though he was in any way chivalrous. It would ruin that image if he picked the lock of the bathroom to spy on a lady. But coercing her to wear slutty lingerie and keeping her captive were perfectly gallant things to do in his fucked up brain.
Regardless, you were glad to feel somewhat safe as you took off your tank top and shorts, turning the tap and stepping under the shower head. You sighed, trying to make it quick. You found yourself scrubbing and taking extra care in making sure you were pristine, and you hoped you were doing it in some kind of performative ritual because you were going outside and seeing people for the first time in two months and a half, and not because you thought Chrollo was going to see you naked. Although he had already seen you once, and his wandering hands were greedy when he had you on his lap, wearing flimsy silky nightgowns or his shirts. He was like a centipede when he got his hands on you. It felt like he had dozens of them.
When you got out and reluctantly put on the strapless bra and the lacy excuse for underwear he’d chosen, you were both impressed and revolted by the way they both fit you like a glove. How the hell could he know your exact measurements? Though all the clothes he’d ever gotten you always fit perfectly, even though you had never tried any of them before, the fact that he knew the precise measurements of your tits was disconcerting.
And despite how much you might hate him for making you wear that lewd set, you had to admit it was undeniably sexy on you. Which only made you angrier.
You ground your teeth, slipping on the dress he’d chosen, finding that one also fit you perfectly. You even put on mascara and nude lipstick. You got out after drying your hair and putting on the ridiculously expensive perfume he’d bought for you, finding him casually lounging on the armchair by the window, perfectly groomed and dressed. The suit was much classier than his cross-riddled fur coat, and he might even seem a gentleman in it. Well, except for the stupid cloth on his forehead. As out of place and ridiculous as it should have looked, it did nothing to make him look any worse. He only stood out more.
His covetous eyes raked your figure, his lips parting slightly as he stood up, making you feel like prey under his hungry gaze.
‘You look... truly stunning, darling’ he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and hips, his lips seeking out yours. You were engulfed by the minty scent of his aftershave and the heady, expensive cologne he always wore, creating a mix that had you squirming in his hold as he kissed you, tongue greedily tracing your lower lip. His mouth traced a feverish line to your throat, and he breathed in, groaning softly, making your thighs press together instinctively.
Was he...?
‘Don’t fear, sweetheart. I won’t trap you beneath me and rip this pretty dress off you... though you are so tempting right now’ he whispered seductively against your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe, and you bit your lip hard, swallowing a whimper.
‘You’re a pretty little thing, you know that? Part of me wants to keep you home and taste your lips again and again’ he continued, hand cupping your ass, squeezing possessively. You swallowed, your eyes widening, pulse shooting up.
‘No- want to go outside- you said-‘ you started, but was shushed by his finger on your lips.
‘I am a man of my word, darling. I said I’d take you on a date, and that is what I’m going to do’ he said, giving you one last heated kiss before he released you.
‘Now, for the finishing touches’ he said, heading to the dresser and opening a box. Gold gleamed between his fingers as he approached you, and you stared at the emerald pendant and matching dangling earrings he had picked up.
‘Did you steal those?’ you murmured, and he let out a soft scoff.
‘Does it matter? Which one would make you feel better?’ he asked, gathering your hair and holding it, his head dipping as you stood in front of the mirror, frozen in place as his lips grazed your nape, sending shivers down your spine with the way his stormy eyes were fixed on you.
‘I guess not’ you breathed, and he smirked, putting the necklace on you and straightening it up on your sternum. Next, he released your hair and put on the earrings. You had to begrudgingly admit they were stunning. But that was to be expected. Chrollo liked to steal beautiful things. According to him, you were one of them.
‘Ready, my love?’ he asked, and you nodded. The shoes that were waiting for you at the door were heels, but luckily, they weren’t too high, and did not look too uncomfortable. Chrollo started to get on his knees, and you grimaced, picking up the heels and sitting on the sofa, putting them on yourself. You also took the dark coat he handed you yourself instead of letting him hold it for you. You refused to be a doll he could just dress up. He nonchalantly smoothed his jacket, seemingly unfazed by your rejection as his aura focused around his hand and his blasted book appeared between his fingers.
You stood next to him, and his hand snaked around your waist, holding you possessively as the lock clicked. The book disappeared, and he guided you outside and towards the lift.
Your fingers were trembling at your sides, and your gaze was greedy as it took in the outside world, the people walking by, your lungs filling with the clean air, your skin basking in the pale sunlight.
Chrollo led you to his car, or at least, the one he was currently using, opening the door for you and insisting on holding your hand as you sat down. He closed it behind you, circling the car and sitting down, immediately locking the door. As tempting as the thought of throwing yourself out of the moving car was, you had no intention of trying to escape, but you knew he would always take precautions anyway. Perhaps it was part of the reason why escaping him was impossible.
He drove through the city centre with a hand steady on your thigh except for when he had to change gear, but you could hardly care. Your gaze was fixed on the window, drinking in the buildings, the shops fleeting by, the statues and houses and the people walking on the pavement.
He parked in an underground parking space next to the gallery, once again feigning chivalry as he opened your door and helped you outside. You let him, because you did not want to cut your time short. You wanted to make the most of this day.
There were a lot of people in line, and to your surprise, Chrollo calmly walked to the end of it and stood there, patiently waiting. You stood next to him, feeling oddly breathless, as though your ribcage had tightened. So many people. You hadn’t seen so many people for so long. Their chattering was loud, they moved around you and you couldn’t keep an eye on all of them. Had being a captive ingrained in you the need to keep a watchful gaze on everyone around you?
You felt slightly nauseous.
‘Everything alright, darling?’ Chrollo’s voice came to you slightly muffled, and you swallowed, nodding quickly, terrified he would take you back home if you showed any sign of discomfort.
‘Too many people?’ he offered, and you focused on a spot far away under the stone arcades.
‘No. I’m fine’ you said much too quickly, your legs feeling slightly weak, to the point you had to lean on Chrollo. Was this why he’d chosen to stay in the line whilst he could have paid to skip it? Just to show you that you needed him in the crowd? To take you back home? You forced yourself to stand tall and by yourself, but Chrollo had already tightened his hold on you, trapping your side to his.
‘I wouldn’t want you to fall, dearest. We can still go home, you know’ he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. You gritted your teeth.
‘No’ you hissed, your throat tightening when you heard how hostile your tone sounded, ‘please. I want to stay, Chrollo’ you added, sweetening your voice, knowing his ego always adored the sound of your begging.
‘Hmh... you’ll need to stay close to me, dear. You seem quite fragile at the moment, so I will need you to hold onto me’ he said, his eyes smug and his smirk self-satisfied.
You pressed your lips together, wishing you could debate with him, tell him no, but his rule and the fact that he had the last say were vivid in your mind. It was his fleeting satisfaction over a day of joy for you.
You leaned against him again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.
He kissed the top of your head, rubbing your upper arm, moving along the line. Minutes passed, and Chrollo did not seem to want to let you go, and you did not seem to want to admit to yourself that his closeness, his stable presence holding you in the swarming crowd was reassuring.
You breathed a sigh of relief when you reached the ticket box. Chrollo bought two tickets for the exhibit, leading you towards the first room. You lost yourself reading the brochure, flicking through the different exhibits, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull as they set on Van Gogh. One of your favourite painters, and apparently, most of his artworks were now here for a short time. Had Chrollo known?
‘That is the first smile you’ve shown me that reaches your pretty eyes’ he said, his eyes glinting with some kind of genuine fondness as he stared at you.
‘You knew?’ you whispered, struggling to believe he would do something genuinely nice for you. Not something Chrollo liked, something you liked.
‘That you have a predilection for Van Gogh, or that his paintings would be here? Of course, to both’ he said, and you stared at him, suspicion extending its tendrils in your mind.
‘Are you... planning to steal them?’ you asked, eyes narrowed. Chrollo smirked, tilting his chin up and glancing at you with a sardonic look in his grey eyes.
‘Why? Would you like a specific one? I could arrange that’ he said easily, and you shook your head, disbelieving.
‘No- of course not’ you muttered.
‘A pity. If it gifted me another pretty smile, I would steal all of his paintings’ he said with something akin to reverence, stopping in the middle of the empty room to stroke your cheek, staring intently at you.
‘That’s- wrong’ you stammered, trying to vanquish his stupidly romantic display of affection. He was completely without morals nor did he have any sane conceptions of what was acceptable to do for something as trivial as a smile.
‘Why? Numerous museums have stolen artwork throughout the centuries, and somehow, that is moral? None of these museums paid Van Gogh for his artistry. They are fair game’ he said smoothly, and you stared at him, blinking in disbelief.
‘To you, everything is fair game’ you said. Chrollo smiled, fingers curling on your waist, under your unbuttoned coat.
‘Darling, you are so straitlaced. When you can appreciate something more than the masses, you are entitled to take it for yourself. Beautiful things deserve the right amount of appreciation, which most people cannot provide’ he said, and you had a vague idea of what he was really talking about in more detailed terms as he leaned over you, eyes gleaming with self-assurance.
‘Do you think any of these inane, mediocre individuals could truly love you? See your beauty, appreciate you, know you like I do? I am the only one who can truly give you what you deserve. I can give you anything’ he said in a soft, fervent voice, kissing your cheek, making your head spin with his delusional world views and the headiness of his tone.
‘Do you remember when I fucked you, darling? Of course you do. You were begging and whining for me, for my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Do you think any of these people would know how to fuck you like I do? How to make you scream and sob with need? Or maybe you don’t remember too well. But I will remind you soon. It might be tomorrow, in a few days, a week from now, but you will see. There is so much I want to do to you’ he was practically purring in your ear, voice low and inebriating, full of sinful promises that made your heart drum in your ears and your lower stomach hot with want.
Tomorrow? A few days? Then- he was going to fuck you soon. You felt dizzy, and you were not wholly convinced it was from dread.
‘You’re a creep’ you mouthed, terrified of his effect on you. If you’d been religious, you’d have thought he really was Lucifer incarnate. The temptation of the most beautiful of God’s angels really did feel real when Chrollo made it known what he wanted to do to you.
‘Oh? You think I can’t hear you mewl in your sleep, darling? God, if you knew how much control I need to exert to keep from burying my head between your thighs. Do you dream of me, my love?’ he continued, and your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as ferocious shame gripped your throat. No, he was bluffing. You couldn’t have... if he knew-
‘Of my ex’ you said, because he was humiliating you and you couldn’t bear his smug grin and the satisfaction and hunger you could hear in his voice.
Chrollo’s grip on you tightened, and he straightened up, his eyes burning with jealousy, but his lips curled in a nasty smirk.
‘Little liar. We’ll see’ he said, voice thick as honey, and you shivered, hugging your body as you went to look at the paintings. Chrollo followed you leisurely, like a shadow. It was as though there was a string connecting the two of you. Where you went, he was right behind you, if not already touching you.
The paintings in the first five rooms were the oldest, with gold painted on religious imagery, ugly infants and static anatomy. Still, your eyes drank the paintings in like you were dying of thirst, looking for the beauty in a world where Chrollo was the dealer of what you were allowed to see.
When you stopped for more than half a minute to stare at a painting, you had already walked through ten rooms, ignoring Chrollo’s pretentious chiming in with random historical facts and art lessons.
It was beautiful. No. That wasn’t right. It was petrifying. “Judith beheads Holofernes”, the silver plate read next to it. Artemisia Gentileschi. A woman.
There were two women and a man in the painting. One of the women was holding down the man onto a bed, whilst the other one was in the middle of slicing his head with a sword.
The world seemed to stand still as your eyes wandered around the canvas, taking in the colours, the skill, the beauty of it. But it wasn’t the artistic skills of that painting that mesmerised you. No, it was the rage. It was the sheer disgust, revulsion and fury that seeped through the blood trickling down the mattress and spurting in the air, spattering her dress. Punishment. Vengeance.
‘How macabre’ chimed in Chrollo, obviously unperturbed by the gore of the painting, ‘I did not know you had a bloodthirsty side to you, darling’
You ignored him. You’d felt that rage. That need for retribution. You knew what it was for.
‘I hope you’re not picturing doing that to me’ he said, and then sighed, stroking your hair, ‘Artemisia Gentileschi. She was raped by her father’s friend, and though she was tortured, she maintained her story throughout the trial that followed, which resulted in the conviction of her rapist. Her paintings do seem to reflect her exacting vengeance on him’
You looked at the woman in the painting, silently recognising her strength, standing in awe of it.
‘I could steal it for you if you like it so. Though I would not want you to get fanciful ideas’ he said. You couldn’t help but scoff. You could not say you were in the same position as Artemisia had been, but you understood the sentiment well. At times, you had wanted to behead Chrollo with a broadsword and bathe in his blood.
Who would have guessed that now, he was your only source of solace. That you did not shy away from his touch, that you dreamt of it.
‘I’d rather you stole me a broadsword’
‘As captivating as the sight of you brandishing one would be, I’m afraid I cannot do that’ he said, and you nodded absentmindedly. Obviously.
Chrollo bought breakfast at the art café, and you resumed the visit after that.
But nothing else captured your mind like that one painting. Well, until you got to the room where Van Gogh’s painting were displayed. If Artemisia’s paintings had filled you with respect and petrified you with their rage, Van Gogh rooted you to the spot with the sheer emotion of his art.
You could not stop yourself from smiling, and your eyes shone bright. You didn’t even care that Chrollo was staring at you like a hawk.
Again he offered to steal them for you. You denied wanting that, telling him that you wanted as many people as possible to bask in the beauty of them, and that you wanted them to acknowledge a painter who had never been appreciated in his lifetime.
‘You are so sweet, my love’ he said, holding you to him.
You weren’t sure you would not find Van Gogh’s sunflowers staring at you the next morning.
By the time you were finished with the visit, you were ecstatic. Yes, you had had to endure Chrollo’s centipede hands throughout the day, but you had seen so much, and felt alive. And he hadn’t even been too stifling.
‘I- thank you, Chrollo’ you said once you were back in the car, hoping this would happen again. He turned to you, staring at you, his usually cold grey eyes shining with warmth, his smile, for once, genuine.
‘It was my pleasure, darling’ he said, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, devoid of the hunger that usually seeped through them. One that, if you ignored the past two months and a half, would have you swooning.
He smiled against your lips, planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling out of the parking spot.
The restaurant he’d chosen was just as luxurious as you had expected from someone like him. He sat in front of you in the secluded booth, reading the menu. You did the same, tempted to get the most expensive thing just to put an indent in his wallet. Though it probably would be pocket change to him. And if not, he could always arrange stealing something to make up for the loss.
He ordered Cabernet, and you considered getting drunk to make the date with your kidnapper less awkward. But you didn’t think he’d let you down too many glasses of wine.
Still, you sipped it avidly, glaring at him when he scoffed.
‘Darling, am I such bad company that you have to drown your sorrows in wine?’ he asked, clearly a rhetorical question.
‘Yes’ you said, and he let out a soft laugh.
‘Are you sure you want to inhibit your senses around me? Considering I’m such bad company?’ he mused, sipping his wine, his pretty lips stained blood red. You put the glass down, scowling and going back to deciding what you wanted to eat.
You settled for steak, surprised to see he ordered the same. You had expected him to get something pompous like lobster.
The meal was undeniably amazing, even though Chrollo had taken it upon himself to interview you about what you’d thought of all the paintings, clearly trying to exhibit his own knowledge, which turned into you trying to one-up him. That might also have been a ploy from his part to get you to argue with him.
‘Interesting. When you’re not so nervous, you’re quite self-assured, darling. Perhaps the thought of being seen as less knowledgeable than I am is unbearable in your mind. Is it to do with sexism? I assure you, the fact that you’re a woman makes no difference to me in terms of your intelligence. Which is, of course, of the highest degree’ he said, and you groaned, staring at him and taking another gulp of Cabernet, even though no amount of wine could save you from him dissecting your brain and being pretentious.
‘Don’t psychoanalyse me. And stop trying to be a feminist icon to impress me. It rings hollow after what you have done’ you said, thinking yourself bold with your quips. Perhaps you should settle down. After all, this was still your mass murdering captor.
‘Ah. I treat you with the highest regard, my love. It wounds me to hear you be so bitter when this day made you so happy. Have I not earned some affection from your part by spoiling you today? Perhaps you need more from me’ his eyes took a lustful light, and you squirmed, shutting up. Which only earned you a smirk.
Once the bottle of wine had been finished, Chrollo got you water, claiming he did not want you to get drunk. You eyed the price on the bill, astonished that one meal could cost so much. But he merely swiped his card and closed the leather case that hid it from view, standing up and offering you his hand. You got up, walking with him outside.
The ride home was fairly silent, because you did not look forward to be back not knowing when you would get another chance at seeing the outside world, and Chrollo was focused on driving and palming your lower thigh. You looked at the sunset, lost in the orange and purple hues, completely enraptured by the beauty of it. It would be nice to stay out for a while longer, but you knew not to push the buttons. He had said art gallery and dinner, and that was what you had done. Now it was time to go home.
You wondered if he would make you sit on his lap and kiss him again tonight, as he’d done since your escape attempt. Somehow, the thought made you hot all over. Well, he had certainly seemed keen enough at the gallery, you thought, your cheeks hot.
Chrollo parked the car, leading you to the lift and back to the flat, where he locked the door with his stupid book and discarded his coat, taking yours off. You slipped off your heels, your feet sore from a day of wearing them, and started to head to the bathroom to change. If he wanted to make out with you, he could wait for you to get comfortable, as loosely as that word could be used in such a situation.
You had made it to the bedroom when Chrollo caged you in his arms, pulling you into him from behind you, getting your hair out of the way to leave languid kisses on your neck, his hands splayed on your stomach. You stopped dead in your tracks, giggling nervously, already feeling the effects of the wine and Chrollo’s touch getting to you.
‘Uhm- let me change-‘ you muttered, your eyes fluttering close when he started sucking on the junction of your clavicle.
‘There’s no need. I’ll peel it off you soon enough, darling’ he breathed against your ear, voice intoxicating, deep and sultry, and you squirmed, your heart rate going through the roof with the realisation that he wanted to sleep with you now. God.
No, you had to push him away. That was the right thing to do, right? He was... Chrollo, and his tongue was following your artery, and it felt like hell and heaven had combined, and you couldn’t think...
‘I’m tired of waiting. I am going to show you just what I can make you feel, darling. I’ll be so good to you’ he said breathily, hands cupping your breasts, fingers grazing your stiffening nipples. You choked a whimper, torn between the overwhelming pleasure and the equally crushing shame.
He groaned against you, pushing himself against your ass, earning another strangled yelp from you when you felt the hard bulge of his erection against it.
He whispered your name like a prayer, turning your head and kissing you hungrily, teeth sinking in your bottom lip, sucking, licking while he fisted your hair and turned you around, pulling you more into him.
Your mind seemed to shut off completely, taken over by the desire that had accumulated in weeks of torturing make-out sessions with no reprieve, to the point where your body was burning and aching for his touch, and nothing else mattered except the taste of wine in his mouth and the grip he had on you.
He pulled back, pupils dilated and eyes dark with lust, gaze lingering on your lips as he pulled down the zipper on your ribcage, greedily devouring you with a mere stare as you stood there, rapt and consumed by desire, your mind a blur.
He lowered the straps of your dress, pulling it down until it pooled at your feet. You burnt as his eyes trailed down your body, shameless and ravenous.
‘That’s even better than what I had imagined. Oh, darling, if you knew...’ he groaned, his hands immediately splaying on the expanse of your back, trailing down to squeeze and knead your ass harshly while his mouth was busy sucking on your neck, making you whimper as you clung to his shoulders.
He pushed you towards the bed, pulling you on his lap. You straddled him, utterly deranged with pleasure as he licked the valley of your breasts, grinding you on his lap. You let out a moan, pulling at his hair, which only made him rougher as he slapped your ass and gripped it, sending a surge of pleasure to your clit.
‘Get on your knees for me, darling. I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock’ he groaned against your ear, and you swallowed, shame making your face burn. It was one thing to go with the flow and let him do things to you, quite another to actively pleasure him. But you would be a liar if you said the thought did not make you wet. And it was all unfair and humiliating and yet, and yet...
You pressed your lips together, yelping when your bra ripped under his hands and he threw it away.
‘I’ll buy you another one’ he groaned, pinching your nipples and sucking one into his feverish mouth, grazing it with his teeth until you were rutting against him, your hands cradling his head.
‘On your knees now, sweetheart’ he pressed, and you breathed in shakily, lowering yourself from his lap onto the floor, swallowing your shame as Chrollo stared down at you, taking off his jacket and shirt, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling his cock out, stroking it in his hand. Degrading as it was, infuriating as it was, he was so unfairly attractive. From the expanse of his toned stomach to the thick cock in front of you to the unruly hair that framed his face and the lust-laden grey eyes boring into you.
He let go of his cock to gather your hair into his fist, stroking your cheek and your bottom lip, pushing his thumb inside. You hesitantly sucked it, pressing your tongue against it, and he smirked, eyes gleaming with ravenous lust as he pulled it away and you wrapped your much smaller hand around the base of his cock, unable to touch your fingers with your thumb.
You stroked him, looking up at him as you tentatively licked the slit at the tip, and he let out a soft moan, his lips parting as his fingers tightened around your hair.
Emboldened by his reaction, you wrapped your lips around the reddened tip, tongue twirling around it.
‘Good girl, keep your eyes on me’ he breathed, looking dishevelled for the first time as you sank further in, licking the underside of his cock, hollowing your cheeks.
‘Fuck’ he groaned, his hips twitching, to the point where he reached the back of your throat and you choked a little, breathing hard through your nose. You weren’t even two thirds of the way in.
‘You can take it, darling. You’re doing so well. You look ravishing’ he praised, and you pushed a little more, tears starting to sting in your eyes, your lips wet with saliva as you struggled to keep your eyes on him.
You got a little more used to his size, and you managed to take a little more. What you couldn’t take with your mouth you made up for with your hand, rotating it slightly as you pulled back and forth on him, watching him start to breathe more unevenly, his eyes narrowed, the skin of his neck slightly flushed.
‘That’s my girl. You’re such a pretty little slut for me. I knew it’ he taunted, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but moan, continuing to pleasure him though it killed your pride.
He started to guide your head, not too forcefully, but he was definitely getting more eager as you picked up the pace and sank to his pelvis, tearing a breathless moan from him that made your panties even more soaked than they already were.
‘Oh, darling. My good girl. Fuck- I’m close. Keep going, and swallow, m’kay? Going to make you feel so good after, I promise’ he huffed out, and you hollowed your cheeks, struggling to breathe, tears running down your face as you kept going, until he stilled, his eyes closing, head facing the ceiling as he came in your mouth with a soft moan.
You swallowed heavily, panting as he slipped out of your mouth. He stared at you for a few seconds, his lips parted, his eyes narrowed with pleasure, before he pulled you up by your arm and threw you underneath him on the bed, kissing you, his hands roving down your body.
‘Such a good girl- let me return the favour, my dear’ he breathed, sucking on your nipples, straying down your stomach and spreading your thighs. You stared at him, panting and hot all over as he pressed his nose against your clit, licking a wet stripe along your labia over the wet lace of your panties. You let out a breathless moan, hips jerking against him, and he let out a soft groan, smirking at you.
‘How I missed this’ he murmured, pulling on your panties until they ripped, clearly unfamiliar with just slipping them off. But your quips were soon forgotten when he flung one leg on his shoulder and dipped his tongue inside you, kneading your ass as he flicked your clit and rolled it in his tongue.
You pulled at his hair, your hands catching onto the cloth of his forehead, which fell on you. He tossed it away, sucking on your clit, his hand snaking between your thighs, two fingers dipping inside you and curling, making you arch your back and let out a loud moan.
He started thrusting his fingers in and out, dragging them along your walls, his mouth keenly occupied with your clit, until you couldn’t take it anymore and started convulsing underneath him, trembling as he pinned you down and forced you through the most intense orgasm of your life.
He switched his mouth and fingers, his tongue slipping inside you, tasting you, his fingers rubbing and rolling your clit through the comedown of your orgasm, until you pushed him away when you started feeling too sensitive.
He wiped his chin with his mouth, sucking his fingers clean and smirking at you, the picture of debauchery as he gave you a sultry look.
He took off the remainder of his clothes, turning you on your stomach and lifting your hips.
‘Does my pet want a rough fucking? You deserve it, after all. You’ve been so patient, squirming on my lap for weeks’ he said against your ear, gripping your hip, his free hand wrapped around your throat.
You only moaned, and he must have been satisfied, because he pushed inside you, tearing a loud whine from you and a grunt from him.
‘Fuck, darling. You’re just made for me, aren’t you? Look at how you’re taking my cock, sucking it in, throbbing around it’ he murmured, immediately bottoming out and thrusting back in unrelentingly, making you tremble underneath him, your head dizzy, your face pressed against the mattress as he pounded into you, pressing into your g-spot straightaway, making you whine and keen for him. It was too much, all at once. You felt him everywhere, consuming you, making you see stars.
‘Chrollo- fuck- too much’ you sobbed, but he did not relent. He slammed against you with reckless abandon, long fingers still wrapped around your throat, his pants and groans echoing your louder cries.
‘You can take it, little slut. You’re my little slut, mh? Your pretty little cunt’s squeezing around me... could it be that you like that, darling? How filthy’ he taunted, but he sounded breathless and full of desire, and it made you feel obscene, yes, but also so so wanted. You had secretly longed for this for weeks, and now, you needed to feel him, needed to cum so badly.
But he slipped out of you and turned you on your back, slipping back into your sopping cunt and lifting your knees to your chest, pressing his body over you.
‘Fuck- Ahh- gonna cum!’ you sobbed, the new position rendering you completely helpless to his rough fucking that pressed against your g-spot and grazed your cervix, making you quiver underneath him.
‘Cum for me, darling. Show me how much you need me to fuck you’ he breathed, and you thrashed your head side to side, tears disappearing on either side of your hair, your mouth open in a silent scream as you came undone, seeing white, sounds fading completely around you, leaving you feeling only pleasure for a moment that felt like several minutes.
Chrollo grunted, cursing loudly, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss and drowning your moans as his hips stuttered, his rhythm breaking, his fingers curling on your flesh, sure to leave bruises as you felt warmth flood inside you.
He continued to push for a few seconds, head buried in the crook of your neck before he stopped moving. Your legs collapsed on the bed, and you struggled to calm your breathing, your throat dry, your arms loose around his back.
He rolled over to his back next to you, his breath starting to come out evenly even though you were still panting.
‘You were perfect, darling’ he murmured, stroking your hair, pulling you into his arms. You stared at the open window, the night skyline staring back at you with its blue lights and orangey glow from the windows of the buildings on the other side of the street.
Was this a life you could live? You did not know. The only thing you knew was that Chrollo had won.
664 notes · View notes
preeningpisces · 1 month
Text
JJK Men vs. Tinder
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What the men are like on Tinder! Non-Curse AU
AN: I discussed these with my sister & it’s such a fun topic. If you have any thoughts/headcanons, pls share them!
Includes: Choso, Geto, Gojo, Kenjaku, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji
Below the cut, toxic behavior, enjoy!
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Choso
❥ Photos: not the best at taking photos. They’re awkward, but in an endearing way. A classic above view selfie where he tries to look neutral/cool, but it ends up looking kind of pouty and oh-so babygirl. A photo with itadori with a forced smile, and one that itadori took of him while they were at an arcade & he won a plushie from a claw machine
❥ Bio: itadori did some major editing because Choso wrote like a whole paragraph that no one wants to read
Hi! New to the dating scene. If you like video games, anime or sci-fi too then should talk🖤
❥ Opener: pretty standard, afraid of coming off like a creep because he's awkward
hi how are you?
❥ Messaging: makes you feel like you’re messaging a bot at first because his responses are pretty fast because he's eager, but also straightforward and bland because he doesn't want to say something wrong. Itadori has to come in & do damage control until Choso can see you're interested. Very much a penpal--might be a week or more before he asks you out. He's the type that wants to have an emotional connection going on a date
❥ How he asks you out: he's nervous but he's direct. Stares the phone down until you reply
I really like you and want to meet you. do you want to go on a date?
❥ First date: he’ll take you somewhere sweet and fun, like an arcade or a carnival. Having activities takes some pressure off, which helps with his nerves a lot. Googled how to act on a date, so he brings flowers - aaaaw. Pays too, even if funds are tight.
❥ If it doesn’t work out: omg having to end things will STRESS HIM THE FUCK OUT. He's going to mull over the decision for a hot minute before he does it. He's apologetic, but makes it clear that he doesn't want to see you anymore
♡ ♡ ♡
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Geto
❥ Photos: the best at taking photos. They’re pretty normal for the most part, one with him petting a cat, another at a cafe with Gojo and Shoko. But he has a pretentious black & white photo of him reading a book or staring off to the side. He looks so pretty it cancels out the cringe tho
❥ Bio: keeps it simple, he believes it's better not reveal too much. That's what getting to know someone is for, afterall. Definitely has his spotify connected
Looking for real connection, someone that's my bestfriend before anything else. Always looking for new music, any song recs?
❥ Opener: opens with something from your profile to show he actually read it and didn't just swipe because of your looks, and to start with an interesting convo!
Saw you like reading. What’s the best book you’ve read so far this year?
❥ Messaging: engaging conversationalist, but not the type to instant message endlessly. Doesn't take forever to respond tho, and if he's about to become busy he'll warn you. Will ask more questions about you than he will share about himself. Gotta keep up that mysterious art hoe vibe he ikes to give off
❥ How he asks you out: would ask you out pretty quickly, perhaps after talking for 2 days or a day and a half. You’d be instant messaging, and he just says your name as if he’s about to say something serious, & lets it hang there for a moment before following up with:
I’ve really enjoyed talking, we should go on a date
❥ First date: chill but gives you something to talk about. Museum, aquarium, bar with a jazz music night, pottery class, etc. Gentlemanly but in a cool way, if that makes sense? Not quite as strict as Nanami, but you will feel a bit like a princess. Definitely pays! Cuts out the awkwardness by saying he's going to cover things before you even go
❥ If it doesn’t work out: lowkey kind of dismissive! He’s not going to outright ghost you…but he’ll breadcrumb you until you bring it up
♡ ♡ ♡
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Gojo
❥ Photos: has the most normal photos. Always looks like he’s having fun & hanging with people. One where he took an unwilling selfie with Nanami, another of him standing over a maximum height chart at an amusement park with an exaggerated pout, and a video deadlifting Geto at the gym with passerbys staring judgementally
❥ Bio: uses the stereotypical bios but ironically. You need 3D chess insight to know he’s joking because it kind of suits him LOL
If you like pineapple on pizza, it’s not gonna work 🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️🙅‍♂️ looking for my partner in crime. The Pam to my Jim 🥰 short king 👑 let me climb you like a tree mens 14 shoes, if you know what I mean 😈
❥ Opener: Gojo likes a casual and playful approach. If your profile has something funny he'll open with that
heeeeey what’s up?
❥ Messaging: weaponizes girl texting. Playful, cheeky. Instant messanger most of the time, but will randomly disappear for a whole day and come back with a lame explanation like 'sorry, was busy with work'
❥ How he asks you out: he’d ask while you’re joking around, after you roast him. Will text for several days before meeting up
mmhm why don't you come say that to my face? 🤨 this weekend over coffee my treat definitely not a date or anything
❥ First date: surprisingly, he goes for the classic coffee shop, window shopping, or movie type dates. Very lackadaisical when planning--kind of stressful if you're a big planner or have a tight schedule. A lot more chill on the date than he was over text. Will pay for everything, obviously, might even buy something you see and casually mention liking
❥ If it doesn’t work out: straight up ghosts you - sorry buddy. He just doesn't like dealing with that mess, and to him, if you haven't been seeing each other that long he doesn't feel obligated to end things directly
♡ ♡ ♡
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Kenjaku
❥ Photos: normal, flattering, down to earth. He wants people to swipe so he can mess with them. On other occasions, MIGHT use random people's photos and catfish just because he was feeling goofy. Has been banned SEVERAL times
❥ Bio: Kenjaku is tricky. His profile and approaches change all the time because he's the type that wants to do 'social experiments' on Tinder. I can see him doing the whole 'I made the most toxic profile to see if ppl will still match with me' or making one that comes off SO sketchy it's insane anyone would talk to him. Even worse, will make one looking for a serious relationship only to commit psychological warfare on the poor sap who matched.
❥ Opener: depends on what he wants. Very much a wild card. Some examples:
sends a questionable link - it's a photo of your house from Google Streetview
If being normal, like Geto he comments on something from your profile: you like hiking, have you been to X trail? It has great shade
❥ Messaging: eratic. Either endless chatter, or radio silence. Definitely the most verbose of the bunch--if you've caught his interest or bring up a topic he likes he's texting paragraphs. Will get bored easily if you're a dry texter. Occasionally sends voice memos because it's like a one-sided phone call LOL . Sometimes he asks out quickly, sometimes he doesn't. Sigh.
❥ How he asks you out: I'm a broken record at this point, but it depends on his intent! Sometimes he's charming, sometimes he's insane and wants to creep you out
I have tickets to X, want to join me?
That cafe you went to yesterday looks nice, we should go together sometime
❥ First date: if he's trying to charm you, he'll take you somewhere he knows you like (that he can stand) OR somewhere entertaining like an open mic comedy night. If he's being a menace, he'll take you somewhere really weird like a Quaker meeting (thank you fleabag). Or just stand you up. He'll actually be there, just to watch how you react
❥ If it doesn’t work: will gaslight you into believing YOU'RE the one with the problem and are the reason it isn't working. You might delete the app after suffering this demon
♡ ♡ ♡
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Nanami
❥ Photos: his company headshot photo, a few work function photos that he’s cropped and are blurry. He’s not smiling in any of them, except for one of him accepting an award at work where he gave the smallest smile for the photo to look agreeable.
❥ Bio: fills it out like a job application. Straight to the point.
Dating with intention. I enjoy reading and cooking. I look forward to speaking with you.
❥ Opener: Nothing crazy - very standard but more formal than typical
Good afternoon, how are you doing?
❥ Messaging: very formal and polite, doesn’t like small talk but will engage in interesting convos. Doesn't reply instantly, but doesn't leave you hanging for hours--he's a busy guy, afterall. Respectful of your time, and expects that in return. Prefers phone calls! Especially while he's making dinner.
❥ How he asks you out: he’s very effecient, he’s not going to be your penpal. He’ll ask you out within the first day of talking if he’s feeling the right vibe. Thinks meeting in person is better for getting to know someone. Will arrange all the plans and make sure it works with both of your schedules comfortably
I would like to get to know you better. Would you be interested in dinner at XX?
❥ First date: classic dinner man! Won’t take you somewhere intimidating, but definitely something nicer. He doesn’t go on dates willy nilly, so he’s going to treat you right. Will be baffled if you offer to pay
❥ If it doesn’t work: Very respectful, of course. He'll let you know quickly as well and won't lead you on. Will thank you for going on a date with him and say it was a pleasure to meet you.
♡ ♡ ♡
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Sukuna
❥ Photos: a shirtless pic with him flexing, one of those middle-aged man selfies where they look stern but also a bit confused bc they aren't sure they're doing it right LOL. One of his car or a bike. He's gotta look badass but kind of looks lame
❥ Bio: BOSSY. He basically has a DNI list but for swiping. Sees it as you being audacious if you swipe on him and aren't worth his time
If you're clingy, desperate, have kids or a moron don't bother
❥ Opener: will say something about your appearance - whether this is positive or negative entirely depends on why he swiped. Somtimes he'll swipe on ppl he finds ugly just to see if he gets a match. He's an asshole like that
You look sexy as hell in that 3rd picture
Don't get your hopes up. You're fucking ugly, just thought you needed to know
❥ Messaging: very dry texter. Don’t ask multiple questions, only 1 will be answered. Takes long to reply as well. Prefers calls, but doesn't like calls where it's just chatting to chat yknow?
❥ How he asks you out: basically tells you you're going out LOL. Will ask you out pretty quickly, he just doesn't care for texting that much
Come to X on Friday. We're getting food.
❥ First date: He's going to take you to dinner, but is one of those annoying mfers that's like 'if you won't get messy in public you’re too full of yourself' so it'll be like bbq or wings at a sports bar. 50-50 type of guy. He's not spending $$ on someone he doesn't know
❥If it doesn't work: oh you know he's going to be ruthless. Your ego isn't going to be wounded, it's going to be evaporated
♡ ♡ ♡
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Toji
❥ Photos: only 2 photos - a shirtless, dirty mirror selfie with flash obscuring most of his face & a gym selfie where he’s flexing
❥ Bio: tinder isn’t important to him, so he isn’t going to put effort into his profile, but if it catches him the occasional hookup he won’t complain. One of those terrifying mfers that straight up puts their number on their profile (I'm always tempted to send them something insane)
text me if we match (XXX) XXX-XXXX
❥ Opener: he doesn’t usually open, you gotta text him first. What a bitch. If he does open he'll comment on a photo, something that stands out so it isn't odd to comment on it, but still invovles your appearance somehow so it lets you know he's basically checked you out. He knows being too bold will scare most ppl off
I like the hair. suits you
❥ Messaging: nonchalant, and doesn't reply quickly. Dry, but not as dry as Sukuna. Big breadcrumber - engages juuuust enough to keep you around
❥ How he asks you out: Toji’s intention is usually hookups, so he’s pretty straightforward & will ask if you want to meet that night. Too old for ‘you up’ or ‘wyd’
I’m at X. Want to join for drinks?
❥ First date: usually a bar. Then his or your place. Very low effort. Whether he pays or not depends on you, to be honest. If he gets the vibe you don't care, he won't offer. If he gets the vibe you will care, he'll pay. Very good at reading people
❥ If it doesn’t work out: ghosts, but keeps your number if he wants to hit you up again. You’ll probably get a text 3 months later LOL
♡ ♡ ♡
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phoneuserhana333 · 9 months
Text
.°˖✧ part 2/3: neighbor!doctor!abby / neighbor!producer!reader headcanons .°˖✧
tags: NSFW!!!, sick!reader, mention of nausea and illness, hand on throat, cliffhanger, ellie appears.
i acc hate how this part turned out :( i hope it’s somewhat enjoyable, barely proofread</3 sorry :((((
PART1 — PART2 — NSFWHC — N(SFW)HC
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• you successfully forced abby into a temporary truce. sort of. falling sick and losing your voice, motivation and strength left you low on groceries and medication. so you opted to sleep through the nauseating headaches and eat oatmeal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it was bad bad.
• so bad, in fact, that you sought out abby’s help. sure, she was a seemingly pretentious, stuck up ER nurse with a mean streak and a hatred for anything fun, but she had the medical knowledge you desperately needed to get back on your feet. plus, she definitely had pain relief medication lying around her house.
• this lead to a strange deal to form between abby and you; nurse anderson agreed to get food and medicine and deliver it to you until you got better, in exchange for three weeks of peace and quiet. hesitant, but desperate, you agreed. this was a huge win for abby. all she wanted was you to be quiet, after all.
• on the first day of your deal, you didn’t let abby come inside, claiming that you were quarantining and demanding she leaves the tote bags full of groceries outside. you barely managed to pull them into your home and the heaviness made you break a sweat, causing your fever to worsen. you texted abby that you were feeling worse and she managed to convice you to come over tomorrow after work for a check up.
• the day after, a defeated patient greeted abby at the door, avoiding her questioning gaze. she sighed and entered your home with a smaller bag filled with medicine and her briefcase with equipment that her dad gifted her. abby was a keeping her side of the deal to a t, she was determined to get on your good side, hoping you’d tune your partying and constant noisiness down for good.
• upon entering your home, the blonde was stunned. bookshelves, a grand piano, papers everywhere, even a chess board. you were smarter than she gave you credit for. the woman let you lead her to your bedroom where the air was thicker and the blinds were pulled down, hiding a bed full of tissues and forgotten mugs in the dark. fuck, her condition might be worse than i thought, abby thought to herself as she stared at your messy floral sheets, or she’s lazy, which might be even worse.
• abby checked you with the care of someone who has been in the medical field for decades, taking her time with you. your temperature was high and you were shivering, claiming to be cold while burning up. abby telling you to pull your shirt up wasn’t helping your trembling state either.
“take me on a date first, w-why dontcha?”
“sorry, y/n. i don’t date neighborhood brats.”
• you pout, too tired to argue, jumping when you feel the freezing stethoscope abby placed against your bare back.
“ow, ow, ow- abby what the hell?! s’cold!”
“god, you’re such a crybaby! here-“
• abby pulled away and warmed the metal with her hot breath, rolling her eyes as she did. your pitiful appearance was only surface level, a cruel reminder to abby that you weren’t a doe-eyed, helpless girl next door she got to take care of and feed soup, much to her disappointment. her cute little face is hiding a literal devil, abby muses, listening to your irregular heartbeat.
• what abby wasn’t aware of however, was how often she thought of you as cute. it was always- “that cute brat”, “…kind of endearing if she wasn’t so annoying” or even “a handful”, complaining to manny on the phone with her darkened eyes glued to your ass, watching as you rushed past her home to catch a train. abby was getting lost in thought, her brain full of aforementioned handfulls and soft plump skin and maybe even her landing a rough spank on- fuck. no. that was wrong.
• … right?
• you, on the other hand, were wide eyed and choking on words. abby placed her warm hand on the small of your back, forcing you to straighten up. she was moving the chest piece around, occasionally telling you to breathe deeper, in a voice that your hazy mind registered as surprisingly hot.
• what really made your heartbeat skip, was her thumb rubbing your back, tracing the elastic waistband of your pajama pants and then slipping underneath to explore the hidden skin. was abby aware she was doing this?! why weren’t you saying anything?!
• … why did it feel so good?
• abby pulled your shirt down, packing away her equipment as she started to speak, offering you a final diagnosis (“you’re so dramatic, it’s just a cold”). the blonde was peeking at your shaking form from the corner of her eye, watching you pick up your tissues and mugs, trembling with barely open eyes. it may be just a cold, but you were obviously drained.
“… ugh. lay down, okay? i’ll take these downstairs.”
• abby rolled her eyes and took over cleaning up your cups. she ignored your protests as she walked downstairs to your kitchen to rinse your dirty dishes in the sink and get your dishwasher started. when she looked up, she saw a few photos on the cupboard above the sink, memories of you and your friends.
• on the one in the middle, you were hugging two girls, playfully kissing one on the cheek, caught mid laugh. her gaze softens. you were a good friend. but a horrible neighbor. for a second, abby lets herself get lost in her head, her eyes staring at the polaroids, unblinking.
• the next few days went by quickly with daily visits from abby. you started to get better, taking it easy and trying to cough quietly as to not bother your neighbor. abby was tired; december was coming up and she was unsure of her plans for the holidays. work was becoming more stressful and the ER was full of people- well, more than usual.
• abby stopped visiting as frequently when she noticed you were getting better, instead sending you wave and tell you off for not cleaning snow off your doorway or wearing a jacket she deemed to be too thin.
• until she stopped acknowledging you altogether. abby was purposefully ignoring you and you just couldn’t find out why. you were used to her eyes following you around, guarding you in some way, like some weird nurse-angel. why was she slowly becoming a ghost you could barely catch a glimpse of? had you done something wrong?
• instead of simply confronting abby, you chose to ignore her back, sending cold looks towards her whenever you crossed paths on the sidewalk. abby, on the other hand, would blush, thinking about how she saw you in only your tiny maroon panties a week ago, naked and on display in your window. since then, she couldn’t look at you, scared that you’d somehow find out that you were the reason she’s been moaning at night the past few days. seeing you on the street would make abby shut eyes shut tightly, fighting her mind as it conjured the image of your pussy and your hard nipples hidden by lacy curtains on a cold december night.
• one thing lead to another, and both of you ended up alone on christmas eve. abby swore she was just going to check on you, see if you were alright. the sight of you with puffy eyes and pouty lips, wrapped in a festive blanket made abby feel fuzzy. before she knew it, she invited you over.
• emotions running high and a somewhat romantic candlelit dinner resulted in you falling into abigail anderson’s bed. she fucked you until morning came, overstimulating you into oblivion and not letting you go until she was satisfied. and after that, she made you hot cocoa.
• despite pretending to be nonchalant, you were a goner. abby had wrapped her hand around your neck and reached down your throat to squeeze your heart. you wanted abby to be yours so bad.
• abby, however, was still hesitant to commit to you. you were the best sex she’s ever had in her life, your hot mouth and tight cunt left her aching for days after, running home to you every night after work, but did she like-like you? what if you didn’t like her back? abby was used to being non-committal, so why was she so enamored with the idea of sharing her life with you?
• this inner turmoil didn’t stop abby from eating you out on your counter top, fingerfucking you while taking a bath together, letting you grind against her thigh in her bedroom.
• god, why was everything so intimate all of a sudden? abby ground you harshly on her chiseled leg, moving your hips with force and pulling a nipple, anything just to hear you whine. with your forehead pressed against hers, you whispered “please, abby. need you-“ and she was gone. her pace quickened as she moaned “good girl, goooood girl…” over and over again. you truly were the best girl ever, abby thought, as you rode out your high on her, now wet, leg.
• sex this heavenly landed abby in your house on new years eve, attending one of your infamous (and unexpectedly fun) parties. she met your friends, dina and jesse. and… ellie. she recognized the two women- they were on one of the polaroids in your kitchen, ellie was the girl who’s cheek you were kissing.
• ellie was too close to you for abby’s liking, touching your back and brushing a finger against your lips after you took a shot of tequila. why was she telling you to “take it easy, babe”, why was she calling you babe? abby felt her blood boil as she rolled her eyes at the overly flirty tone ellie used, taking a sip of her favorite wine you made sure to get just for her.
• just when abby thought that it couldn’t get worse, ellie tried to make a move on you.
“so, y/n. any-uh, plans on who you’ll kiss tonight?”
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thebibliosphere · 2 years
Text
I receive many wonderful and kind comments about Phangs in my inbox daily, but the ones that stick with me the most are always from fellow neurodivergent people, usually elated or crying because Phangs is the first book they've been able to read since their teens, sometimes even decades.
"I thought I'd lost the ability to read; I thought there was something wrong with me; I thought I was broken," over and over and over again.
I've talked about it before, but just in case you need to hear it: it's not just you; it's the publishing industry.
If you follow my Twitter, you may have seen the thread where I talked about what that was like, and how I was often handed the "problem" writers who struggled to conform to the industry standards. (The original thread is gone, but for context, it was about the lack of accessibility in publishing for people with ADHD) I didn't know it then because I wasn't yet diagnosed, but I understood the problems these writers were having because our brains functioned on the same wavelength.
I understood why they felt specific changes harmed the text, but I also understood that it was the cost of being published, and it was my job to help them with it. I went above and beyond to make it as painless for them as possible. All the while listening to my colleagues around the wine water cooler deride these writers as "pretentious" and "too thin-skinned for publishing."
I hated them. I still hate them, and I hate that the industry is the way it is because it's really not that difficult to accommodate.
Suppose an ADHD author tells you the changes you've made have made a sentence incomprehensible to them (and I cannot stress enough how distressing it is to have something you wrote be turned into something you cannot read). In that case, it's likely because you've removed certain critical elements for the sake of brevity. It might not look like vital elements to you, but for ND brains, longer sentences with additional qualifiers and descriptors can really help us latch onto the "rhythm" of a text, which can help us feel more immersed and hold our attention better*.
Filler words can help with this; it gives our brain time to process but also figure out which parts are essential and to hold onto. It's sort of like, uh, how people say "like" and "uh" a lot (😋). These act as both social cues that indicate that while we might be pausing in our speech, we are not done talking yet, but also help keep our brains jogging along via the act of vocal stimulation. (If I can find the study I read on this, I'll come back and post the link.)
Regarding "superfluous" adjectives and "weak" adverbs, they often function to provide emphasis and context we might otherwise miss. Sure, you can go overboard with them, and they can lose all meaning if you do, but the general writing advice that "adverbs NEVER be used" is not only lousy in general but also means those of us who struggle with social cues and emotional context can be left feeling out of the loop.
I can't tell you the number of times I've had to go back and verify that a character is experiencing an Emotion because it wasn't emphasized, or the author tried to make it into a gut punch by using "sharp, punchy" language (but all they use is "sharp, punchy" language!), and my brain glossed over it because, well, if it's not part of the greater sentence structure, it's irrelevant.
And this shit is my job! I'm being paid to notice these things! It's just not how my brain works naturally, and forcing it to do so long-term is not only exhausting but distressing. Why would I keep trying to read something that causes me exhaustion and makes me feel stupid because I'm struggling to understand it?
Now, obviously, there will be times when a text needs sprucing up. Everyone has their "comfort" style of writing, and while repetition can be soothing to read, it can also make the text hard to engage with. Same with run-on sentences. Sometimes you need those one-word gut punches. Or everyone's favorite, the italicized "oh."
The trick is finding a happy medium between the two that retains your personal voice and writing style. A good editor will work with you to make this possible. A bad one will hack everything to pieces and tell you, "that's just how it's meant to be."
I was lucky with my editors. Sometimes, I had to tell them that the proposed changes wouldn't work and were causing me distress because I couldn't read them. And I knew. I knew if I couldn't follow the sentence structure, a good chunk of my prospective readers wouldn't be able to either. They weren't doing anything wrong. They were doing their jobs and ensuring my book had as much mainstream readability appeal as possible. However, the problem is that "mainstream readability," as we've already established, isn't accessible to a large chunk of the population. So we found ways to work around it. We made it work.
As is evident in the messages I get in my inbox daily.
Every single day, someone else tells me their friend recommended Phangs to them, and they were skeptical because they haven't been able to read a published book in years. And every single day, someone new tells me they loved Phangs, but the biggest thing they loved about it, was that they were even able to read it at all.
So thank you for the greatest compliment you can give me. A lot of work went into ensuring Phangs would be accessible to as many people as possible.
Also, sorry the industry is like *gestures* this.
----
*This is a generality and not true for everyone. People are not monoliths. I am merely speaking from my personal experiences from the things I have observed in the industry as an editor, a writer, and a lifelong reader who also now struggles to read the current style favored by the mainstream industry.
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ladythornofrivia · 19 days
Text
🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒
Michael Gavey x Reader (PART TWO)
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summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.
warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.
a/n: i got sick from the trip. oops. enjoy the new chapter! oh, and the one where the reader is being shoved out of the elevator, that one is a true story, by the way. I was being shoved out of the elevator by this guy I met at the cruise—all because I didn’t give him the attention. not only that i got stood up twice--one on the hangout, the other on my 27th birthday. and he thinks it's weird that i like hotd and said ewan mitchell looks weird. good thing i don't have to see him again.
Somehow, to think you met up with Michael Gavey again in the library, now that Oliver Quick is gone. By gone, Oliver might have gotten bored of Michael Gavey, you assumed.
There was a party last night, and you didn’t attend. Not that you’re too good or above for the party; you just hated the noise at the moment. You wanted a different kind of ambience to set the mood. Needless to say, you earned a lot of cash on that night.
With moonlighting as a camgirl, things have gotten easier. If you haven’t left your parents, things would’ve been worse if they found out.
Despite the cruel years, it became a simple memory.
Sitting beside you, Michael offered another crunchie--delicious as always. It's a good pair with hot cup of joe to pair with the sweet chocolate. Although you learned that Michael hated coffee, he'd rather prefer tea, a tea that tasted bland to you. You needed something strong--Starbucks would've been great, but a coffee from Oxford? You can't pass up to try the flavor of coffee from another country you've set yourself in.
Missing the opportunity would be as stupid--all opportunities have been unlocked, all thanks to you being as a famous camgirl. My, oh my, you are moonlighting as a naughty girl in bed time--no parents constantly sneaking in being nosy as hell. You did lie to them--half-lie--by claiming that you have been acting nuts at night--doing all the prayers and bible study sessions, which is a total fucking lie.
You never liked bible studies or prayers before Sundays. It's a hassling lifestyle to live in--to live so virtuously while shaming everyone's lifestyle who aren't religious.
People with an aspect of a pretentious goody-two-shoes was the last thing you need. Oliver Quick is a goody two-shoes; the boy obsessed with math has caught your eye, plain and simple. A bit eccentric, but sexually frustrated, as you guessed before the moment your eyes met his baby blues.
Three weeks later, the magical aspect of Oxford hasn't begun.
"Crunchie," a voice said, tingling your skin and poked at one side of your waist with a slight tickle.
Beside you, Michael Gavey showed up with a slight grin on his face, oddly satisfied this morning.
Who the hell smiles in the morning?
"Not an early riser, I see," he commented.
His pleasant tone prickled in between your thighs.
"Oh yeah, fine and dandy--needed a cup of coffee," you said, grouchy. "I was studying all night--got the assignment wrong."
"What kind of assignment?"
"It's, um, it's an English essay," you lied, pen twirled between your agitated fingers. "This professor is really getting on my nerves when it comes to the essay. Acting all superior and shit--telling me I keep getting my annotations wrong and that I misinterpreted the meaning of the symbolism and theme in the story. I hate pretentious professors like that. No matter where I go, some things never change. They always have favoritism, it's fucking weird."
Michael chuckled. "Perhaps you have been partying?"
"Partying? Please, I needed peace and quiet for some alone time to concentrate on my studies. If I want to have a good future, I had to have at least a C or B. I fucked up bad."
Seems like the lie went smoothly as always.
"So, have you been at the party last night? Sneaking in since you didn't get your invite?" you asked.
Michael placed his hand over his cheek, nearly covering his lips. "I stayed in my dorm."
"Ah, doing math homework, I assume? Anything math related? Science into the mix, maybe."
Michael stayed quiet.
"I'm not really into math. I thought it's confusing," you commented.
Michael chortled. "Perhaps I could tutor you this afternoon. Usually I don't like teaching the numbing idiots of the subject matter. One guy was staring at the girl’s tits while doing times tables. Times tables! Need them to fuck off and do something valuable for once!”
You stopped what you're doing and glanced at him. And it clicked an idea into your head.
“Am I also the numbing idiot?”
He shook his head. “You might be, if you are. These knuckleheads at the library, all they’ve done useless flirting, not studying.”
“That’s what library is for, Michael. To study. No harm in a little flirting.”
Come to think of it, Michael at the library with you sounds nice.
He smiled a little, though not in a friendly way.
"Sure," you said, eating the half crunchie. "Why not? Teach me, so I could get better grades. Life is already hard enough as it is. So got any crunchy to start the session? It will take a while.”
~~~
For the past an hour or two, Michael tutored you. Although as excruciating painful to hear numbers and equations with letters, you couldn’t help but to stare at the cute nerd. Ah, a cutely frustrated nerd, maybe. His curlish dirty blond hair, thick framed glasses and his smile when he talks about math, these thoughts never spare you freedom. You are trapped, trapped by thirst that needed to be quenched.
With your cherry-red boots and skirt and a rosy pink lace top, you opt to show your cleavage by tucking your mini top downward, crossing your legs, coiled your apetite. With your hair flip, or hair twirls, biting your red lips, you were hoping Michael would give a comment or two, but tutoring was his priority, but since you wanted his attention, asking questions about math and equations would definitely keep him on his seat. His eyes on you.
His cute nerdy glasses. His cheeky and toothy smile.
Masturbating seems to be an option, but what happens if that option is no longer helpful? You wanted an alternative approach.
Maybe masturbating in public would be nice, but you’re smarter than that.
But each time you attempt to flirt, he seemed clueless. But he did at one point had a crush on a news anchor. And so your mind mentally made an account.
Dear Diary,
Michael Gavey didn’t notice me. How the hell am I supposed to get his oblivious attention on me? I hope I don’t die as a lonely virgin. I’m a bad bitch; I just want to fuck him so badly, watching his glasses fog up and lips soak at my aching pussy, whimpering underneath me and my dominance.
Then it clicked you.
However, you knew right away of this information when he liked watching news—the news anchor. Although she has a kid, the green envy seared and punctured your belly.
Maturity is what men and guys want.
Though it didn’t stop you from chasing Michael’s attention. Days gone by when you try a different style. That is until you met this guy, a popular guy, who’s name you not care—who complimented and dubbed you as “the hottest girl in campus.”
An idea conjured; if you practice with a guy, maybe it would be easier to make the first move on Michael. Thus, you went along with his flirting, but at the end of the night, you felt sure you were ready, until he took you out in the hall, and make out with you. But you didn’t care, you didn’t want to kiss the dude, you wanted to kiss Michael.
You felt nothing in his erotic moves.
When he tried to get into your underwear, you shoved his hands away. Thus, the little adventure with the guy, and ended up shoving you out of the elevator.
It was a pathetic night.
Nonetheless, your camgirl starts within an hour or two—took a shower and dressed up as a sexy office worker, with fake smart glasses with your tight office shirt loosened two buttons for your cleavage to show, with pencil skirt and stockings and red bottom heels.
On the cam session, did a little roleplay, and with feral thirst, legs spread apart, ripping your stockings and reveal your wet pussy. At the thought of Michael, his face, his voice, two fingers inserted in your cunt, as your hips formed a gyration, moaning aloud.
Michael…
You nearly screamed his name, but your climax came quicker.
All the comments flooded in, and more cash has stocked into your bank account.
You wondered if chasing Michael was even worth it. Hopefully one of these days, he’ll finally notice you.
~~~
Michael shoved in a few cash onto your new stream. Dressing up as a news anchor or an office lady, he found himself turned on, how your skin was gleaming with arousal, office glasses crooked from humping and gyrating, grinding your hips in fast pace like a feral beast that you hid beneath all the girlish and cherry red clothing, a clothing that outlined your perfect hips and perfect waist.
A horny devil.
He pretended his hand is your hand, your mouth, your throbbing, wet cunt, tightened around his bulging cock. The way he fisted his cock so much he couldn’t stand watching you flirting with that stupid boy.
Michael had a plan and he couldn’t wait to be inside you, but the question is…
When?
Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @halsteadstyles @liannafae @ammo23 @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @blackgaladriel @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @parttimegay @lcolumbia1988 @witchy-v1xen @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes
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depressedraisin · 4 months
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notes on "mr. snarl"
hello, hello, hello welcome to the mr. snarl is high camp discourse. i've been readin' and thinkin' and drivin' myself nuts over this, so i'll be blabberin' on for a good minute. bear with me.
before we dive into any discussion of camp, we ofcourse need to understand what camp is in the first place. camp as an idea is nearly impossible to neatly put down in a few words or a sentence. it has no definition as of such. camp is loud. camp is ostentatious. camp is exaggerated. camp is 'too much'. camp is gay. camp is ironic. camp is cheeky. drag is camp. marlene dietrich is camp. baroque art is camp. cher is camp. mommie dearest (1981) is camp. the rocky horror picture show (1975) is camp. dostoevsky is camp.
the girlies who get camp get it, those who don't, don't.
however we do have susan sontag's 1964 seminal essay 'notes on "camp"' from where most of our contemporary ideas and understanding of 'camp' comes from. in her essay, sontag noted 58 points on what camp is or might be. for our purposes in this post, we'll go by those. because it is the camp bible of course. and i am a pretentious bitch.
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now before we get to the meat of the matter, a quick detour to discuss the many faces of alex turner.
alex's personas have now come to as closely associated to his image as an artist and public figure as blonde wigs are with dolly parton, i suppose. it even has its own section in alex's wiki page. he is one those performers to whom the "eras" concept can truly and perfectly apply. he is a different man on stage with every new album, each 'era' is unique from the other and distinctly defined. a new 'era' for alex is not only a change of a haircut or a new pallette, it is a total revamping of his mannerisms and performance style and public image. be it mr. schwarz (the car era), mark (tbhc era) or oliver tate sr. (early sias era), each one of his personas is another way in which he represents the themes of that album. understanding a persona is integral to understanding the album.
and alex admits to as such. each Performer is a fractured reflection of his own self, and of the album.
but. but. i do not think that he has always made use of the Performer, or atleast, tried to make perceivable distinctions between them. in the first three-four years of his career- during WPSIATWIN and FWN, he presented as just Some Guy. just another normal bloke from sheffield. which, you could argue, was the persona that fit the context of those albums, but i would say that he was probably not putting that much thought into it at the time. it isn't until TAOTU that we see alex using his on-stage fashion to project a certain kind of image that ties in with the music he's playing. (do i think it's miles' handiwork? yes.). the lil suits and ties and beatles-mop cuts, y'know.
the first distinct Performer appears during the Humbug era. the soft-spoken, brooding, fawn-mannered poet who is probably hiding a bagful of secrets and hang-ups behind those layers of brown curls- let's call her him aly. then we have the bright-eyed, puppy-smiled, deep-voiced loverboy of the early SIAS era. i propose to call him oliver tate sr. (after the guy from submarine (2010) obviously). then mr. snarl- we'll get to him later. the loud and theatrical and slutty and deliciously gay EYCTE era persona. then the melancholic space poet mark of TBH&C and finally the suave auteur of The Car- mr. schwarz.
mr. snarl is the one who has garnered the most fascination and endured the most in popular imagination. dare i say, AM-era alex turner is a lowkey late 2010s pop culture icon. it is very easy to understand why- the quiff, the leather jackets, the perpetual sunglasses, the biker boots, the LA drawl tinging his sheffield accent, the devil-may-care wantoness. the girlies on tiktok and pinterest aren't obsessed with him for nothing.
so, what makes mr. snarl camp? what am i yapping on about?
let's get back to sontag.
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camp is artificial. camp is ironic. mr. snarl is too. he is a character. he is a mask. *cue the bourne identity and body paint*. 'artificial' does not imply fake or dishonest. we should be careful not to be quick in putting any value judgement onto this artificiality- the aritifice is a quality of camp. you can't appreciate camp, if you snigger at the artificial.
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2. camp is character. mr. snarl is a character if there ever was one. extremely defined, visually and behaviourally- you see a performance and can immediately recognise the moment mr. snarl is peeking through. he is also very intensely one thing- very intensely masculine, very intensely rockabilly, very intensely rock god. he is 'instant character' as sontag puts it, which is why perhaps he so immediately and so firmly gripped our collective imagination.
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3. camp is exaggerated. camp is style. do i even need to elaborate on this? Ben Beaumont-Thomas of The Guardian said it much better than i could- alex ironically "played with the role" of being a rockstar but simultaneously "can't help but be a real rock star." so, to put it in sontagian terms, he is not a rockstar but a "rock star"
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the 2014 brit awards speech is the peak of this ironic, exaggerated performance i think. (i'm still waiting for someone to do a drag performance based on it).
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4. but to me, what makes mr. snarl camp is his performance of gender. now let's get one thing clear- camp is not effeminate or queer behaviour. it is the "spirit of extravagance", so any kind of extravagant and ironic presentation of gender can be under the purview of camp.
this performance of gender is not the david bowie or marc bolan or brian molko kind, no. this performance of gender is much subtle, much more nuanced- he wasn't playing around with rigid definitions of gender or crossing gender lines. he wasn't trying to say something with it necessarily. i doubt even, if it was a purposeful thing that he was thinking of back then.
but mr. snarl is a performance of gender. it is a performance of masculinity. and the thing that makes it so very interesting is that it was a cis, straight man doing it.
[if y'all are interested, another interesting example is dolly parton + her persona + her performance of exaggerated femininity. for more on that i'll point you towards be kind rewind's video essay on her.]
mr. snarl was an image of a very certain kind of masculinity. 1950s, elvis presley, rockabilly, greasers, james dean- these are some of the pop culture touchstones that come to mind when we think of mr. snarl. he is also decidedly american. a "fictional character from america" as alex later put it. was this whole persona thing an effort to conquer america then? perhaps...but eh. there is no way i can conclusively say that. it certainly helped that cause. AM the album was very us-american in essence-- it drew from hiphop and r&b after all. the soundscape of the arctic monkeys was very much rooted in its northern british indie roots, and AM was the first one that was clearly not. and mr. snarl was just a visual reflection of that. [for more on how the arctic monkeys conquered the us]
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mr. snarl was a certain kind of masculine in a way alex turner personas haven't been previously or since. he has always presented as conventionally masculine. even the humbug persona- him being my girlfriend notwithstanding- is not much different from the aesthetics of say, ray davies or mick jagger or george harrison back in the 60s and 70s. the slightly effeminate dramaticism of eycte is not exactly gender-bending as such.
but mr. snarl was hypermasculine. masculinity has had an interesting place in his lyrics up until they- they are both critical ('brianstorm' 'a certain romance') and fascinated ('jeweller's hand' 'catapult') of more aggressive masculine characteristics. (he does use a lot of very sexual but not necessarily erotic language to describe said masculinity- but that's another can of worms.) mr. snarl was in a way, alex being those characters from those songs he was writing about. mr. snarl also very aggressively straight. straight with a capital s. his songs in AM still had the self-abasing and submissive undertones to the narrator that love songs from humbug and sias, but much toned down. he was out there shouting out his girlfriend on stage. and who can forget the "ladiessssssss!" moment. he had models hanging off him in photoshoots.
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you probably saw these photos and thought- "what the fuck?!" with a cackle. that is exactly what makes mr. snarl camp. the irony, the ridiculousness of it all.
5. i don't think alex was trying to be or do camp. camp is best when it is not intentional. i can even confidently wager alex would not take it as a compliment if i showed him this essay. a lot of very "serious" people look down upon camp as something lowbrow and tacky and unserious. but it isn't. i would go ahead and classify mr. snarl under naive camp- he is trying to be straightlaced and serious, but failing grandly, which makes it deliciously camp.
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so. mr. snarl was an exaggerated representation of masculinity. in a sense, mr. snarl was basically drag. alex turner being "Alex Turner".
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shuamorollss · 7 months
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unfortunate unexpectations — l.hs x f!reader
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In an everyday attempt to avoid the man you eternally loath. Of course, the universe isn't always by your side as you accidentally reach a dead end, with no other choice but to dance with him.
romcom, regency era, enemies2lovers, just cute bickering warnings— not proofread, first time writing this kind of trope pls bear with me. 2.6k wc + reblogs are greatly appreciated!
author's note— I'm back again with another piece ( I'll disappear for a few months after this)! I wrote this exactly on Hee's bday but I only decided to post it now since i didn't really feel satisfied with this when i finished this a few days ago :/ i still don't so I may delete this when I'm in the mood to make changes ^_^ BUT HERE IT IS!! Happy belated birthday to my hubby wubby @Heeseung 😅❤️❤️
perm tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon
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"Would you be so kind and get that for me?"
Oh how annoying. You thought, gently tricking your finger up to block your ears and releasing in an instant, wanting the bothering itchiness to fade. His arms stretched beside you reaching to the the man holding a tray with glasses of wine.
Oh how you knew he did it intentionally.
Heeseung's boldness to give you an order was extraordinary, baffling even. You were not in a higher position than him, and he wasn't much higher than you, though he was just there, and heeseung didn't want to play the "he was just there" role in your life. He always feels the need to spite you at any given time, similar to a cricket making noises while you attempt to sleep.
Though much to his dismay, you certainly do show his own place as just a nobody in your existence; to which he never seems to catch the hint of your unintrestment.
Or he might do, only walking in and out of your life in terms of spitting utter nonsense to your peace.
Honestly, it did work. It made you fume and it certainly made you want to do more than just give out the usual glare and other threatening expressions to the other.
You turn around with utter confidence, meeting the man's eyes unbothered. Your eyes observed his structure, his unfortunately dashing attire, and his pretentious face.
As you check out the details of his sleeves, your eyes darted to Heeseung's exact shift of expression, smirking.
It was certainly expected, yet so mind flaming. You'd rather just explode right then and there than to keep up with whatever he wants to pull to you.
"You know, if a lady looks at someone from head to toe for too long it must mean that they yearn for that someone." He lets out a prideful scoff, eyes mockingly going through you as he sips from the wine glass.
Disbelief in what you heard, you halted your eyes from any further notice. Proceeding to roll your eyes at the man who had unknowingly tinted your cheeks red.
"Don't be silly, I was looking at your outfit. Actually baffling but not surprising for you to wear something so… Eye-vomiting." you spit. Twirling against his view and proceeding to waltz away from his standing figure, not setting a single glance at the man behind you. A fuming smoke sets up your chest at the realization of what you had just done to that awful of a man.
You explore more of the manor by yourself, enthralled by every piece of art plastered on the clean walls. You found an inner piece at the volume of the hallway, no noble bands performing and people crowding the room as they tap their feets and hearts out, it is truly a wonder to feel.
"Lady Y/N!"
Of course, every pinch of euphoria has their cut to its end, as one of your acquaintances calls you out.
"Oh, Lady… Lily? Was it?" You asked softly and loudly, as the woman clicked her heels towards you.
The girl smiles, "Oh yes! Though please, just call me Li."
"Alright, Lady Li."
For moments to what felt like hours, chit-chatting with Lady Li as you both walk around the manor corridors. The both of you had now reached your very destination which was the party itself that you so desperately want to be separated with.
You timidly smile at the girl beside you, eyes widened agitatedly at the crowd. "Uhm, Lady Li," The other nodded, her eyes also seemed to be searching through the sea of nobles.
"Why did we decide to return to this room?"
Lily simpers her smile as her eyes turn fixated on one figure, "There he is!— Thank you so much Lady Y/N for keeping me company through the manor." She gives you thanks, walking away with delight eventually linking arms with a man who Lady Li might have been searching for. great.
Another woman infested with men's validation, how unfortunate.
Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the couple in disbelief, letting out a brief sigh at the thought of almost every woman here might be just like that.
"Feeling all bitter now, are we Lady Y/N?", you trembled at the sensation of his teasing breath tickling your ear.
"What on— oh... it's you again."
"The one and only." Heeseung lets out a ridiculous triumphant smile, the smile that makes you feel itchy in all aspects of your body, it was extremely bothersome reaching to the point you would rip your hair out to the unspeakable rage you feel for the male.
"Don't make that face now, a real lady doesn't do that, well— that is, if you are even a lady." He chuckled, always digging deeper into your little actions in an attempt to reach you to the edge. How delightful.
"Your words remind me so much of my younger brother's pitiful counters." You face the opposite once more, your heartbeat slowing down at each step you take far from Heeseung, hoping to have a similar instance from earlier to happen once more.
Unfortunately, the things one desires don't really happen twice. As you hear the footsteps of the man through the crowded noise, the only shattered expectation you wish did not.
"Oh so I remind you of your family now? How thoughtful." His smirk added to his audacious response that could be sensed at such a distance you didn't even know was possible without even taking another look.
"It means you're just as annoying as my brother, don't take it as a compliment."
"I presume older sisters still love their annoying brothers nevertheless, so that must mean you secretly feel that way for me too if I remind you so much of your annoying brother."
"Oh how great, you can go stay in your own personal pride zone Mr. Lee, though that zone, will tell you to cut it out very soon."
"I doubt that, I think I can sense what's true and not true."
"Being ever so ethical now, aren't you?"
"You know what they say… I am that of a gentleman."
"Well so ethical now anymore, 'cause, you see… you claim to be a gentleman which in fact is ridiculously wrong, no, you're not a gentleman."
"Okay lady, I figured that was a mouthful to sneer."
Your eyes widened, subconsciously sighing aggravatingly, utterly lost of the others' words. "Please don't follow me."
"I'm not following you."
"You are? Don't make me feel stupid."
"I don't think I'm doing that."
You continued to walk further and further, you don't know where, it could be just anywhere to be out of this man's grasp.
not even reaching an uncomfortable minute of making your way, Heeseung finally made it way up to you for god-know-what reason.
Only a few more threads left to untangle until you implode, besides showing this man what you're capable of doing, you weren't about to do anything in front of hundreds of people.
You swiftly turn to face the man following, "Look Mr. Lee, don't even attempt to come and step closer—" the hissy grin never ever fading from his look. Before you snap even further, you raise your head as the lights suddenly turn dim, the current music start to tone down as the band plays a new mellow romance.
The both of you faced your worries, silently questioning the sudden change of atmosphere.
"Now, it is time for the party where the gentleman… dances with the first lady they set their eyes on, Amuse-toi bien!"
..
.
His eyes were on you, and yours on him. Slowly developing the idea you most certainly would refuse to believe.
"No." You shook your head promptly with no hesitation.
"Y/N."
"No, don't even"
"Y/N—"
"No. Not ever. Never in my life. Never in a millennia. You can serve the mediocrity of mediocrity— I am not even paying attention to what I'm saying, but just so you know, I am not dancing with you."
You groaned continuously at his spews, this chit chatter going nowhere at all. Heeseung was also growing exhausted of your opposed responses. Hearing your never ending hatred for him is never known to him, although being in this position during an all rounded dance segment, he was not about to embarrass himself in front of such nobilities.
"Y/N just—" His hand abruptly slid up your waist sending your internal nerves through every stage of shockwaves.
"What are you—" Your words began to halt from his tightened grip, slowly putting power on pulling you closer… and closer… too close to say the least.
"Just this once, we don't want to leave a bad impression at a party we're just mere visitors at." His breath fanned your neck and sent shivers down your spine. Truly a feeling between his embrace that you have never felt before.
Too much of a guilt to even feel, considering this is the man you swore your whole life to loath yet here you are. No other way of escape out of this man's grasp, other than to spend a minute and more with him following the melodious rhythm serenading within the whole room.
"Fine. This doesn't change the fact that I want to scar my name on your face."
"How romantic." His lips curved sarcastically, eyes shifts into pure mockery as it lays on you. You couldn't say if you were teased by his softly menacing gaze or comforted by it. Eitherway, you couldn't register the right words.
"Besides," Heeseung continues, eyes darting away from yours, looking elsewhere within the ballroom, suddenly a light flashes your vision, snapping you back to your current position, right in front of Lee Heeseung.
"I don't even think we could get away from this anyway, we're literally in the middle of the dance floor." His head shifts in every direction to deem his assumption correct, which you mirrored.
It's true, the both of your are really in the middle of the ballroom.
You felt blockage on your throat, as if your vocal chords refused to spit words out of your mouth. The close proximity between you and Heeseung felt extremely new, you wanted to escape it so quickly yet, quite in a state of culture shock of his careful and kind demeanor as his every step to the rhythm of the music are seemingly careful not to make a mistake or you could say in other words, step on you.
The distance soothes, your hands still intact as the both of you walk in circles. His gaze locked onto you as if a man had seen the beauty of the moon for the very first time. He was allured, not only to the sight of your eyes but also your entire attire.
Who was he kidding? He was making fun of how you looked earlier, or was it you who taunted his? Even he couldn't remember. What is this contact causing him?
His eyes followed the direction of your eyes shifting all the way to your linked hands rising, following the rhythm and everyone else's. Only then Heeseung was able to return to his composure.
Being quiet with you didn't exactly make him feel like himself. It's indeed a peculiar case, his eyes fixated on your focused figure attempting for a thought, any words, any attacks, frankly quite anything.
"I feel conceived Lady Y/N," He started, your eyes now transferring to the man.
"Did you walk all the way here on purpose just to lure me in this dance?" He smirks, deeply hoping he did not look ridiculous in your eyes, which in fact, he did look ridiculous to you, though in basic sense, he always does.
You scoffed, "Don't be such a crude, I was walking away from you, or if you didn't understand that, I was escaping you. however, you followed me. If anything, you expected this dance to happen beforehand." You sneered at your words, feeling vastly proud of regaining the upper hand.
"Now now, shifting the blame onto me?" He jokingly asked, swaying forward and backward, then continuing to circle in unison.
"Well, I couldn't be wrong." Your raised your brows at the man, receiving a tuneful chuckle.
"You're ever so ethical now aren't you?"
you scoffed, "Touché."
After a few warm-hearted rhythms, the distance slowly basking in, his hand starts to tenderly slide from your hand up to your shoulder. Now facing your back at a dangerously close proximity. The way his fingertips barely made contact onto your skin yet it still tickled, sending you into unreasonable wonders.
Lee Heeseung? Sending you to unreasonable wonders?
"What if I tell you that I really expected this dance to happen and followed you to be able to have this dance with you?" he breathes out.
Your mind stood place, frozen. It couldn't function solely because of those words.
You knew this was his tactic of his obvious teasing yet... that had sent your heart into places you did not expect for it to reach. Your breathing abruptly stopping at every emphasis you place into his words.
It wasn't any different for the man, he was hellishly anxious.
The way his hand stood still on your shoulder, then slowly sliding it down to your hand the same thing he had done at the start. He felt crazy, he couldn't grasp the feeling whether he's disgusted at this contact or was it, satisfactory?
Heeseung's breath unawaringly hitched in unison to yours.
The high-rising tension the both of you are desperate to escape yet… would embrace it more long.
As Heeseung's hand reached your hand, the distance once more soothes, or did soothe for you? Did it to him?
One spin had the same closeness return, now you two are entirely facing each other.
How did this moment feel too slow? normally the dance routine did not walk this type of pace before, usually it happens quickly before the music finally comes to its end.
The silence echoed immediately through the other's ears, having the slight worry of gkving you discomfort.
Worried? Heeseung, really?
Heeseung lets himself battle his own internal conflicts as the outer silence continued. You were in a desperate measure of developing a genius idea for a comeback yet none came into mind. The unexplained whimsical threw you off, the fact this man had to send you in this type of frenzy was never in your lists of expectations.
Yet now, at this very moment, changed your very view on your surroundings.
All because of this very man you swore to loath ever since his eyes laid on you.
One last twirl to the maiden as the band's instruments faded into the void, completing the romantic waltz.
As everyone in the middle applauded their elegant and coordinated routine just now, both you and heeseung processed your breathledd tension just earlier.
Finally having all the words reached the right parts of your brain, finally having control of your conscious, your hatred to the man came back with it.
"Aww, you really do feel deep adoration for me, Lee Heeseung." you politely curtsied. contrasting to the tone of your voice, as you reply to the man's words from a few minutes back.
Heeseung lets out a chuckle, "You know what? Maybe I do have a thing for such abominations."
"Haha. Aren't you a clever guy." You gave him a wide infuriating smile, as you turn around walking away from his presence, now leaving the man at the middle of the dance floor.
It was a peculiar state for you. You swore you completely lie instense hatred for the man, yet now you're smiling at his mere words that usually drives you to banging your head on the wall, sometimes the urge to bang his head on the wall.
Yet what happened just earlier felt, extremely out of place, something you couldn't quite explain for the time being.
You were conflicted about being bothered by it.
How it bothered your feelings, bothered you deeply.
A memory that surely the both of you would engrave in later lifetime.
.
..
...
"Wow, she called me clever."
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