#fanblr

The answer is bullying btw

The backroom of the Troupe's hideout. Chrollo had asked Hisoka to clean her up after that outrage in front of everyone. She had fainted, Karl's blood covering her face.

When Hisoka "takes care" of her, it's like he's dressing up a doll. Too sharp, clinical and indifferent of her nudity. He placed her body on a make-bed out of blankets and towels, and gently washed away all the blood on her feet and face with a washcloth, slow and precise. He wrapped her body in yet another piece of sack, because the Troupe didn't exactly keep spare change of clothes around. While securing the brown garment around her waist, he notices how she is healed completely, only small, almost invisible slashes left. That is when he stops and takes a full look at her. She was lying there, completely healed. Those eyes, that were just raging at the 5th most powerful member of the troupe, were now swollen, closed and resting. He stops, his fingers hovering over her cheekbone. She had used her own, raw will and malice to turn a single clue into a disaster. She had turned into a beast, too stubborn, full of pride and apathetic even. He remembers that smile, that giggle that left her lips when she was almost miraculously putting an end to Karl.

That lunacy, That was true beauty to Hisoka. And for a rare second, as Hisoka marvels at the monster he made, he stops smiling at all. His expression is still coy and dangerous as ever, never being gentle or caring-- but too interested. Too dead set on breaking her one day.

And that is why he sits back in an iron chair, after tucking her hair cleanly behind her ears, sitting in front of her as long as she slept. Captivated. The Magician had found his new, favourite toy.

Not because I’m a fan of the celebrities in question tho. I like them because they’re such perfect replicas of my favorite AO3 tag (Social media)

Real sex:

Me:

But i ship like one at a time, and I just get so obsessed that I read almost anything or even write for it.

But at some point, it stops working.

In first place I always read to feel, usually joy or just squirm out loud.

That's why I read, for goddamn feelings .

And when they stop working, I still dig for more. It's not the same but I'm trying. And it's sad but I'm trying.

I just feel hopeless.