HEY, LOLITA, HEY
2,730 words. krystal/sulli & a little krystal/kai.
Deux femme fatale, born to rule the raw hearts of fallen men with their lips and skinny hips.does anyone ever notice that i always write krystal like this? lolita/lana del rey/krystal is my head-canon. that teaser art film only enhanced it. also, i love my jungli, as you can tell.
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OKAY BUT I STILL HAVE TO QUOTE THIS BECAUSE PERFECTION IF THERE EVER WAS :
She's never liked him. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. Never liked how he looks at her, however. And he looks at her, now, Venus reborn, glaze of syrupy light, honey sheen, stripped of pathos. Saw her as something for viewing pleasure, a subject for placing impersonal angles on, a capsule for her lashes and line of her jaw. She was not a museum, but a mere theatre for the temporary Coppola-like cinema. She is a goddess, but in his presence, she is reduced to an object for the demeaning male gaze. She knows, knows that he doesn’t understand her, never will or did. Knows that he lacks the patience and qualities to understand her purpose and tenacity. And that he can never amount enough to catch her true beauty. He would dilute her to his pace through cracked lenses.
How do you. How.
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