ambvtchous

[ambvtchous]

what does love mean to you?

❛  love ... love ... people like saying that word like it means something , don't they ? i'm not even sure it exists . sometimes i think someone made it up to use as an excuse . love's never fed me , never put clothes on my back --- love's just ... another word to me . ❜ 

[ambvtchous]

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

“ so i can be ... what --- eaten by dinassours ?   bought and sold to a man ?  undo the errors of my ways to innevitably do everything all over again ?  no thank you , think i'll pass on that one . ”

[ambvtchous]

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

" who gives a flying fuck about honor, honestly? "

[ambvtchous]

Do you have any feelings in general that you are disturbed by? What are they? Why do they disturb you?

" sometimes i think i'm capable of anything to keep this life i've gotten for myself... i mean anything . it's a scary thought , isn't it? not knowing what you're really capable of until it comes down to it. i don't think it ever will --- but i dread what i might find out about myself if it does. "

[ambvtchous]

"    ai ,    mattie !     ”    exhasperation tumbles off her sleek tongue with a loaded sigh ,      teeth sharp and bared  ,       and a crinkle of distate scrunching up her button nose as she smacks his shoulder .    hard  .     “     do you have to keep reminding me of those times ?    ”   borderline pounting now ,    she leans further and further into the seat ,      creating a distance large enough between them to fit a whole brick wall .       there is nothing she loathes more than remiscing about the good old days ,    when she lived like a stray in an alley ,    searching for an opportunity at every dimly lit corner .   “    it’s gone ,   it’s done with  ---   now can we    let it go   ,     or are you not done  torturing me ?    ”   @devlishdx​

[ambvtchous]

House of Cards, S04E12

[ambvtchous]

devtsche​.

Disregarding the last marriage, if his romantic relationships background were analyzed some facts would easily stand out   —  a considerable number composed of short but extremely troubled affairs. Always having the same pattern, there were three stages; desire, obsession and emptiness. The stages  duration varied but in the end always led to the same ending. All the women in his life were perfect, some more than others but all of them at some point always let him down, they proved not being good enough. Paola was now dealing with the same issue that his ex-wife in a not too distant past faced. But the situation was different, the relationship with Paola transited between the three stages, all at all once and never stabe. Sometimes Hans believed it was easy to escape this vicious cycle, other times he was sure that he was forever trapped in her clutches, after all he had lost a lot to have that golden trophy by his side and would not allow have her taken away from him. The amusement at Paola’s venomous words was clear by the sharp, vile smile the man had on his lips “Yeah? If you weren’t paranoid why would you check my clothes in the first place? Why not check the Audi GPS instead? would be way easier" ignored the mention to one of the dogs, focusing on the feeling of the tie pressure around his neck “Well no reason to worry, you already made sure I’m on leash now"  admitted, a soft bite on her lower lip. Gently turned her around, intently focused on the woman’s reflection in the main mirror, the diamonds that adorned her, her angelic and at the same time devilish features. He let his fingertips run along the fabric of the dress, closing the distance between their bodies a little more "Zip? Are you sure? Rip it off sounds like a better idea” joked, placing a few light kisses on her neck “Versace? Definitely new, I’ve never seen you in that dress before”

-

in some ways she understands :       that hunger in the pit of one’s belly ,    always dormant ,    waiting for a chance to sprout from its slumber  ,    growling like a beast in the wilderness  ,     always craving more ,     always reaching for what’s beyond its grasp .    she thinks perhaps that’s why she was pulled into his orbit to begin with :    that insatiableness that violated the rules of conventionality .     she wouldn’t love him had he been any different  ,      she wouldn’t have gorged in his love if it didn’t taste of poison on her tongue .      they were merely wreched mirrors of each other :     the raw ,   ugly ,  mottled things they fear about themselves in their most private moments .      looking into each other’s eyes was like admitting all those things aloud ,     without ever having to say a word .    maybe that’s why they loved each other .    maybe that’s why they loathed each other .     she can feel creeping like a paraside through the shadows  ,      moving stealthly nearer like a childhood boogeyman seeping from under the floorboards of your bed at night  ----    an amnesiac tenderness momentarily hovering between their bodies .    she feels the fabric on her fingers ,      “    i think you like being a leash   a little too much    for it to be a punishment ,    you know?          ”    she bites back ,    little nimble teeth clamping tight enough to abrade the skin of his mouth in a way she knew he’d remember .     next her hair’s swinging like in a shampoo commercial ,    bracelets clattering like cymbals as she’s faced with a most puzzling of imageries :      her own warped reflection ,      looking back at her like a foreigner in this shell of a body that’d learned how to bend itself into too many shapes to be recognized .       she lets him linger on her skin like the aftertaste of an aged wine  ,      cheek slightly bending inward ,   towards the bump of her shoulder as a hand ghosts over his own ,     "   stop it !    we’re going to be late !   ”       she chastizes with a half-hearted smack that lands flat on his chest .      “     you’re the one who wanted to go to this stupid thing anyways ...     ”     the last thing she wants to do right now is sit in a circle with a bunch of women and explain how she has no intention of letting a parasite ruin her body and her mental health for the next years .      almond lashes flutter shut ,    fingers habitually nestling itself within locks of his dark hair ,     teetering along the edge between his nape and scalp .    “    hmm ...    good eye .   and how do you like agent provocateur?      ”

[ambvtchous]

devtsche​.

𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳: for @ambvtchous

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽:  hans’ penthouse   (  manhattan  )

“You know what, love? You’re right. You’re right, I’m a terrible husband that clearly don’t pay attention to anything except myself since I can’t tell the difference between two identical heels” the man shouted as he watched himself in the bathroom mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt before making his way back to the bedroom, gaze focused on the woman next to the closet "What? I didn’t want to go either but it’s business. You have the option to stay, you don’t have to be my date but your paranoia always gets in the way"  to be fair, most of the time Paola was a relatable person even though they often disagreed on many levels. But here comes a trivia fact, she overanalyzes and overthinks so much hypothetical situation that she misses details that most of the time are right in front of her. Like at that moment, for example; a shirt with a lipstick stain somewhere in his closet that Hans couldn’t get rid of earlier "Can we just not argue today? I promise we can fight over the same issue tomorrow"  teased, offering her a soft smile “How about you help me fix my tie?”

-

serpentine nature  ,   always bordering on unreliable ,    her expressions are subtle but doused in   rancor  ,    dutifully measured as to minister just enough venom to keep them agonizingly alive .    she couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t at each other’s throats  ----  hands or teeh ,   it seldom made a difference any longer .    the circle could not close itself on any other end  ,       that would always be where it leads .     it feels only natural ,    instinctive  – to hate him ,     to love him ,     and all the cruel things in between .      “   right .     i’m paranoid ...       i’ve never saw lipstick stains on your collar,    or smelled cheap perfume on your fucking blazer ---  ”    accusations roll off her tongue uncerimoniously ,   with bite ,    with claws  ,    as paola ever so casually smoothes the ivory of her gown until it has dripped down every curve and crevice ,   down sturdy thighs like a milky substance .    the leash she wears is embroiled in diamonds and silver ,   complimenting that lovely collarbone that urges to pop like a button under the calloused hands of strangers .    "    do you think i’m stupid ,     hans ?         i know you have as much self-control as spike over there .    only he actually obeys me when i tell him to stay .    “    hypocrisy ,   maybe -----   but he’s hers .    and she’s entitled .    with subduing hands that slither across the base of his throat ,    feeling every inch of frabric and skin in between ,     she   yanks   his tie to forcefully pull his body is pulled her gravity ,    offering an unapologetic ,  practed smile that’d been undoubly mirrored a thousand times over .     “    zip me .    ”

[ambvtchous]

location: go wild status: open to all! ( @exclusivestarters​ )

the delicate corners of her mouth are reeled into something of a smile :    a nicotine-infused curvature that tangibly bleeds into her words ,   structured by unkind edges that beg to be made soft .   paola bends her cheek over the bump of her shoulder,       peering from under a veil of blond lashes at the figure who encloses .     “    was it hard to breathe inside?    ”    her breath flutters ,  and she laughs that   girlish laugh :   all flair and effervescent charm  ,   punctured by an airy tendril of smoke .      "    with all that self-righteousness clouding the air ,    I mean ?    “

[ambvtchous]

[ambvtchous]

for: @veronipez​

a long silence outstretches between them ,   extending an invitation for quiet understanding to take its seat  ,     allowing this rare moment to near the borders of tranquility .   she tips back her chin ,    rabbited nose turned upward  —  mouth slightly agape ,     as though there’s a question hanging at the tip of her tongue   —–   she doesn’t ask .     “   sit down.  ”     paola nonchalantly invites ,   though it teeters on the cliff of demanding .    “   have a drink with me.    ”     she attempts to soften her grip ,     though there is little she can do to appease the beast from within .    “    don’t worry,  I don’t  actually    bite.    ”    debetable .

[ambvtchous]

[ambvtchous]

dontdrxnkthewater​.

.

The snarl of his nose can’t be stopped as she reaches out and swipes the remaining powder off his chin. Eyebrows cinched so close together they almost touch, he can’t find the proper reaction to being touched. A feral animal backed into a corner he simply recoils his head back to rip it out of her grasp, using his sleeve to wipe off the remaining feeling of her cold fingers pressed against his skin. Try as he might, the scowl starts to ease, the pounding of his heart sending euphoria through his veins. Pathetic as it is, adrenaline is a drug he’d been deprived of, and he craved even the slightest hit anywhere he could find it. She wasn’t threatening, but a stranger putting hands on him was definitely enough to get his heart jumping; he’d take it for what it was worth and scold himself later.

“Thanks, mom.” He scoffs, annoyance dripping off his tongue as he steps back from her and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Wasn’t expecting company. Place is usually cleared out by now, I’d go get your coat before they lock the doors, though.” He grumbles, adjusting the weight on his feet, taking her in for a moment, making an assessment before returning to his normal rigid state of being. 

-

Empathy has never suited her ---- she leaves this specific virtous palette to religious zelouts and bashful virgins ;    her manicured hands withdraws back to her side limply when those violent urges to ellict a reaction of those pitiful enough to fall within her line of sight have subdued ,    and only then .    Skittish ,   this one ---- she couldn’t say it was disappointing ,    though .    Those too eager to cater to her every whim had a habit of becoming dull and expendable rather quickly. Paola Lovatelli’s interest is difficult to capture, and even more difficult, if not borderline impossible, to mantain .

“   Easy now,  ”     she intructs ,     voice a docile purl drowned in the thick fog of nicotine that unapologetically assaults his nostrils .   She muffles a laughs ,    cheek bending ever so slightly into the bared skin of her shoulder   “   Would you be so kind as get it for me?   ”     she presses a red claw against her temple, massaging it in continuous circles .   “   I’m a little dizzy, I’d rather wait outside.    ”

[ambvtchous]

she’s just too cool lKJASFLDJLA

[ambvtchous]

dontdrxnkthewater​.

open to: anyone! location: The Dive Bar

Chasing a taste of home had never been so difficult, and in a city where so many different cultures came together, he thought he’d have an easier time. Everything was either too western or not truly homie, making the taste turn to ash in his mouth. However, after a long search, after so many food trucks and hole in the wall restaurants, he found it; the taste of home. Tyler happily leaned against the wall outside the dive bar, smile on his face as he contently munched away on the sweet bread in his hand, gingerly wrapped in wax paper. It’s getting closer to closing, so he can get away with enjoying a snack, but even so he quickly tries to compose himself, stepping out of the way of the door for someone to come back inside. He mumbles an apology in Romanian, trying to wipe the powdered sugar off his face so he doesn’t look completely disheveled and unthreatening. He’d hate for anyone to get the wrong idea, especially this time of night. “Oh, wait, shit, you coming or going? Bar is closing but if you were already in I just need to see your stamp.” He finally chokes, swallowing hard and putting his snack back onto his stool.

-

In the city that never sleeps, there is always a place to be and an interesting stranger to meet , and Paola has every intention of taking full advatange of this nocturnal mayhem that rises with the moon. She slips through the narrowest of gaps wrapped in the finest silk, the fabric dripping from her taught sillhoette like liquid silver, just in time for an untimely encounter: those black heels pause on cue, her impossibly sharp brows arched in mild surprise, her compusure never wavers - as someone who is trained to observe the surroundings as it oberserves them back, paola knows the importance of keeping your spine straight and your face neutral. Tightening the grip on a cigarette that rests between idle fingers,  she looks the boy up from head to toe, taking note of the powdered sugar all over his mouth as he mumbles something unintelligable, or foreign--- she can’t quite tell then, but takes it as an apology judging by his overall demeanor.    

“   I forgot my coat,  ”     she informs with strained tolerance, a faint glow of amusement at the edge of laquered lips, letting a twirl of grey smoke spill out of her mouth with the words.    “   and you ----   ”    she wipes the sugar off his chin with her stamped hand, letting her thumb linger on the spot as to purposefuly make him squirm .     “   Should at least clean up before making demands, don’t you think?    ”

[ambvtchous]

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [ PAOLA LOVATELLI ], a [ TWENTY-EIGHT ] year-old [ CISFEMALE ] has lived in [ NEW YORK, MANHATTAN ] for [ FIVE YEARS ]. This is the city of dreams and [ SHE ] knows it, because they came to NYC to be an [ GOLDDIGGER ]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [ CAMILA QUEIROZ ]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it! [N, 25, she/her, est, n/a]

tw: addiction, alcoholism, terminal illess, cheating, parental neglect

paola grew up in a lower class family, always struggling to make rent due, with the token absent alcoholic father, watching the medical bills pile up on the table as her mother’s condition worsened every day

but growing up poor never stopped her from dreaming big ---- ever since she was little, she always knew she had one thing, and one thing only going for her:  her looks. she was never the brightest or the most dedicated when it came to school, but she was always the prettiest, and she was willing to take full advantage of that

paola started off running small schemes: she’d pickpocket, steal things from people unaware of their surroundings, and whenever she was caught, she’d bat those beautiful, long lashes of hers and get away with a slap on the wrist

after her mother died, she didn’t want to spend another day living with that sad excuse of a human being her father had become --- she ranaway from home and never looked back, leaving behind an older sister and a father whom she never made a single attempt to contact, and taking with her her mother’s car, which she’d then procceed to call a home for the next years of her life

she lived in the streets for awhile, from 14-16, doing whatever she had to do to get by --- until her petty theft escalated and she was able to sleep somewhere with a concrete roof over her head. she got a gig at a stripper joint, and thats how she met her best friend in the world --- together they were unstoppable. some of the sneakiest con artists you’ll ever meet this century; they were countesses one days and the next, they were a pair of singers just trying to make due in this cruel, terrible world. one time she was even a ghost--- can you imagine? the production value was unmatched. it wasn’t just about the money, although, that was certainly a driving force, it was about finally holding the power in their hands. they’d run the most intricane cons on people, and easily get away with it.

eventually, she and her friend followed the money and began running cons on the wallstreet guys who’d always stop by the same bar, at the same ungodly hour--- they were great marks, and making up lies to them was significantly easier given their often inhebriated state.

it was during one of these nights that she met her future husband: he was tall, charming, and wearing a rolex that was easily worth five times what she made in a year. life wasn’t fair, so why should she be? she insinuated herself into his life with ease, and he fell for every little white lie she told him, and by the time he realized what a skilled liar paola was, it was too late--- he had already fallen for her.

in a way, she loved him too--- he took her from that terrible life and gave her everything she’d always dreamed off, but never stopped her from wanting more, new, better things

she even agreed to dot upon the two children from his previous marriage that she’d unapologetically cut short, although, she wasn’t too happy about having them around. the truth is she’d never had whatever maternal gene women are supposed to be born with--- she never wanted to be a mother, but that was the role she was hired to play.

she didn’t hesitate to cheat on her husband when the opportunity presented itself, paola was unchangable in that way: she always wanted to have things that she couldn’t, and she was never satisfied for too long. although, her indiscretions were always nothing more than vague suspicions in his mind, and she did what she could to soothe his worries

she got everything she’d ever dreamed of, she abandoned that life of poverty and was now a rich and powerful woman, so, why is it that she can’t be happy? could it be that she’d dreamed about the wrong things all along?

that’s all i have !!   i’m still figuring her out but come at me for plots, i am accepting anything and everything !