“Hecate Was Perfumed With Dark Spices And Unending Remorselessness.”

emilia  didn’t  move.  not  when  sayuri  leaned  in,  not  when  that  familiar,  too-sure  smirk  tugged  at  her  mouth,  all  sharp  edges  and  thinly  veiled  provocation.  it  was  the  kind  of  smile  people  wore  when  they  thought  they’d  won  something.  when  they  believed  proximity  could  be  mistaken  for  power.  she’d  seen  it  before  —  in  nobles  who  mistook  charm  for  cunning,  in  demons  who  thought  a  well-dressed  threat  could  outmatch  centuries  of  silence.  she’d  learned  to  wait.  to  let  the  theatrics  run  their  course. sayuri’s  voice  lilted  with  practiced  confidence,  each  word  polished  to  provoke,  laced  with  just  enough  mockery  to  test  her  reaction.  the  jab  about  the  crystal  ball  was  a  tired  one  —  she  didn’t  let  it  land.  she  rarely  did.  mockery  was  a  poor  currency  to  trade  in  when  your  opponent  had  learned  to  live  without  the  need  for  validation. ʸᵒᵘ  ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ  ᵗʰᶦˢ,  emilia  thought.  ʸᵒᵘ  ᵇᵘᶦˡᵗ  ᵗʰᶦˢ  ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ  ᵖᶦᵉᶜᵉ  ᵇʸ  ᵖᶦᵉᶜᵉ.  ᵃⁿᵈ  ⁿᵒʷ  ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ  ʷᵃᶦᵗᶦⁿᵍ  ᵗᵒ  ˢᵉᵉ  ʰᵒʷ  ᶦ’ˡˡ  ᵖˡᵃʸ  ᶦᵗ. she  let  a  beat  of  silence  pass  before  answering  —  long  enough  to  be  deliberate.  then,  with  the  faintest  curl  of  irony  at  the  edge  of  her  voice  ❝  you  must  be  fun  at  parties.  ❞  she  shifted,  not  out  of  discomfort  but  control,  creating  distance  with  the  kind  of  easy  grace  that  said:  i  decide  how  close  you  stand. her  gaze  swept  over  sayuri  again,  not  in  challenge,  but  in  quiet  recalibration.  the  arrogance  wasn’t  surprising  —  what  interested  her  was  what  wasn’t  being  said.  the  hints  tucked  beneath  the  performance.  the  weight  behind  the  word  business.  sayuri  wasn’t  bluffing.  that  much  was  clear.  but  she  also  wasn’t  being  entirely  honest  —  which  made  her  interesting.  ❝  i  don’t  need  ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᶦᵍʰᵗ  to  recognize  someone  who  likes  the  sound  of  their  own  schemes,  ❞  emilia  said,  tone  mild.  ❝  or  someone  who  confuses  being  clever  with  being  in  control.  ❞  and  yet  —  she  didn’t  walk  away.  because  as  much  as  sayuri  was  a  disruption,  a  complication  …  she  was  also  a  window.  and  emilia  had  learned  to  pay  attention  when  the  world  handed  her  one. ❝  fine.  business.  talk.  ❞  she  turned  her  back  fully  now,  unbothered.  ❝  just  don’t  waste  my  time  pretending  you’re  doing  me  a  favor.  ❞  let  sayuri  think  she  had  the  upper  hand  for  now.  emilia  wasn’t  in  the  business  of  showing  her  cards  until  it  mattered. 

@ncantari,  continued  from  here  !

A smirk, subtle in both amusement and triumph, tugged at Sayuri’s lips at the witch’s blunt, yet truthful accusation. She reveled in both pride and immense satisfaction at the fact that her plan had worked, and at the vague acknowledgement of her wit. Of course she had planned this — known for her meticulous nature and aversion to chance, there was no way the ghoula would leave anything to fate, least of all let herself end up in such a compromising position if it weren’t for a larger scheme at play, a woven intrigue. Sayuri nodded, a gesture betraying her overflowing delight, her expression radiating the brimming confidence born of arrogance — of the firm belief that she held the upper hand.

❛ That’s where you are correct, ❜ she chimed, her voice laced with playful mockery. ❛ Didn’t see that one coming in that little crystal ball of yours, did you? Tsk. You know, I thought witches were supposed to have foresight — or is that just a marketing gimmick? ❜ Borrowing from the tired clichés and overused prejudices often hurled at witches, each of her words was designed to subtly undermine her opponent, to paint her as predictable and limited. Truth was, Sayuri had never bothered to delve beyond surface-level understandings of witchcraft, unwilling to concern herself with something that didn’t seem to directly affect her.  

Leaning in, eyes gleaming with a predatory light, she closed the distance between them, invading Emilia’s personal space. ❛ But don’t look so sour. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I didn’t think you had something worthwhile to offer. So, how about we skip the dramatics and talk? Seems like the perfect opportunity to discuss business, don’t you think? ❜ For Sayuri, the word ‘business’ carried a weight of unspoken implications. It usually meant that she wanted something, as simple as that — and her negotiation methods were rarely fair. 

“—a gentle girl with beautiful, soft eyes and a romantic little soul.”

— Colette, from Claudine at School

love   note   to   my   mutuals ﹕   I'm   trying   to   get   to   know   you   all, so   if   you're   interested   in   an   ❪ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ❫ DM,   please   give   this   post   a   ♡    and   I   will   be   in   touch   !

“Her brown eyes were untranslatable…She was made entirely of a sweetness bordering on tears.”

— Clarice Lispector, from “The Servant”, Complete Stories (trans. Katarina Dodson)

Women who don't hold back their tongue vibe. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

 You  break  the  rules  and  become  a  hero.  I  do  it,  and  I  become  the  enemy.  

 That                doesn’t                seem                fair.

apron on. a swirl of olive oil. the aroma of garlic. candlelit evening in. plump, red tomatoes. sea salt pasta water on boil. fusilli in. basil from the plant. jazz tunes on. creating in the kitchen is such a dream.

I be like ''lord'' ''god'' ''jesus christ'' and the mfs dont even mean anything to me

I Saw the TV Glow (2024), dir. Jane Schoenbrun.