Accismus- an ironic, feigned refusal of something that is actually desired
Ex:
It’s a shame what the state of online dating has come to in 2024. People on Hinge are linking up because one of them hates pickles, while the other loves pickles, so that any time they’re at a diner together the pickle lover will get to eat the spare pickle off of the pickle hater’s plate. Don’t get me wrong, this is a rock-solid foundation for a real relationship. But, just for a second, imagine if the pickle hater is actually engaging in some sort of cuck-style accismus in which he actually wants to eat the pickle, but he can’t, because if he does, that’ll jeopardize the legitimacy of their supremely deep emotional connection. Picture this: Every Friday evening, the couple goes to a diner. At the diner, all they discuss are pickles. She LOVES pickles. He HATES pickles. After running through a list of pickle pros and cons, they sit silently together waiting for their food to arrive. He gets a turkey club. She gladly reaches over and takes the pickle off of his plate. He pretends like it means nothing to him. Like she’s doing him some sort of favor. They laugh about it, scarf down their food, and then sit silently together waiting for the check to come. But one Friday night, he just can’t take it anymore. On the car ride home, he confesses his secret. He actually LOVES pickles too. The revelation is simply too much for her to process She tells him to pull over the car. She gets out and vomits on the side of the road. He tells her to get back in, that they can make things work, that he’ll get a burger with pickled onions on it and that’ll allow him to satisfy his cravings while still freeing up the side pickle for her to eat. She tells him she appreciates the thought, but their relationship is done. He drives home, crying. She sits on a curb, covered in throw up, and logs into her Hinge account. She swipes right on six guys that look eerily similar to DK Metcalf. And so, the cycle continues.
My parents actually did something like this. At every restaraunt my dad would take the butt of the bread first so my mom wouldn't have to eat it. After this happened multiple times in a row my mom complained he kept taking the best part of the bread. My dad thought he was doing her a favor.
This is up to your usual high quality. You are a genius and a half.