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#poor costume choices
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Alas, poor Yorick
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gophergal · 1 year
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Kinda disappointed that this doesn't look worse, even though I drew it without my glasses on ehcbdjc
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ryansjane · 3 months
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watching find yourself is making me realize how TALL neen is, like I've seen her in dozens of shows & never noticed lmao, no wondered they paired her with podd she literally towers over everyone 😆 finally I feel represented in a thai drama, tall girlies unite ✨️
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flurryheaven · 6 months
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Critics Choice - Best Costume Design Nominations
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Barbie (Warner Bros.) Costume Designer: Jacqueline Durran
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Wonka (Warner Bros.) Costume Designer: Lindy Hemming
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The Color Purple (Warner Bros.) Costume Designer: Francine Jamison-Tanchuck
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Poor Things (Searchlight Pictures) Costume Designer: Holly Waddington
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Killers of the Flower Moon (Apple) Costume Designer: Jaqueline West
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Napoleon (Apple) Costume Designers: Janty Yates & David Crossman
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Update: Congratulations to Jacqueline Durran for the win.
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engagemythrusters · 10 months
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they really couldn't have found an uglier way to adapt Ezra's clothes to live action, huh.
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castielmacleod · 2 years
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I literally need to go into costume design so badly but I’m stuck in this stupid ITE programme 😭
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girlboypersonthingy · 3 months
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Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.
BYE I WENT AND LOOKED AT THE ART TOO THIS IS SO GOOD!!! Thank you for the request! And enjoy 😘
Notes: fem!reader, suggestive themes, just a short little drabble
Lucifer x reader- Honey Bunny 🤍
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“(Y/N)…I look stupid.” Lucifer grumbles through the bathroom door to you, looking at himself in the full length mirror in front of him. He hated the way he looked in red pants and suspenders?! Like come on…and this ugly blue bow tie that clashes horribly with the rest of the outfit. “I’m not wearing the bunny ears. I’m not!” He complains loudly, pouting a bit when he hears you laughing on the other side of the door.
“I’m sure you look adorable, babe! Come on, it’s a costume party. Everyone will be in silly costumes!” You call out to him as you are finishing up your makeup. “Yes, but I’m the king of hell. I don’t want this to make me look bad. I dunno…just haven’t been out in a while. I’m feeling quite anxious, love.” Lucifer confesses in a soft and worried tone, still staring at himself in the mirror. He usually wasn’t such a poor sport when it came to these things but it’s been way too long since he’s attended a party, especially one thrown by one of the deadly sins. Luci is feeling the pressure.
A few minutes pass as you perfect your lipstick and check your hair in the mirror. Finally you slip your heels on, layer on a couple sprays of your favorite perfume and exit the bathroom. As soon as you pass the threshold of the door way, all of Lucifer’s worries dissolve away in seconds. A wicked smirk finds your lips as Lucifer feels himself becoming nervous for a whole other reason. He couldn’t get any words out, not one little whimper would even leave him. He was star struck by you in that gorgeous low cut dress with all that glamorous makeup on. Fuck, he knew it would be impossible not to stare at your chest nearly overflowing from your dress all night.
“Aww, baby! You look so cute.” Lucifer huffs at your cooing. “Pleeeaasssee put the ears on, I wanna see.” You plead as you slowly close the distance between you two. “Come on, Luci. Wear ‘em for me~” You continue your advance on him, getting so close that he has no choice but to stumble back onto the bed behind him. Putting on your best pout and prettiest puppy dog eyes, you lean down to get nice and close to his furiously blushing face. Without saying a word, Lucifer puts the white fuzzy bunny ears on his head, still staring up at you with stars in his eyes. Immediately, you perk up with a bright smile.
“Yay! Oh my goodness, you are too cute! Ugh, I love you.” Quickly, you lean in and kiss his lips, lingering there for a second before pulling back. “Oh, my dear, you are so beautiful. Wow.” Lucifer mumbles quietly as he looks you up and down. You couldn’t stifle your giggles as you admire your lipstick stamped so perfectly on his own lips. “You know…” You start before slowly slipping your fingers under his suspenders and gripping them tight in your fists. “We don’t have to go.” Teasingly, you crawl into his lap, now straddling him on the bed as you use his suspenders to get him closer. “We could just…stay home.” You kiss his cheek. “I could ease your anxiety.” You kiss his other cheek then his forehead. “And you can mess up my makeup all you want~”
You sit up straight now and Lucifer looses all his self control as his hands come to your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he finds himself perfectly face to face with your busty chest. His entire face from neck to ears is rapidly turning darker shades of red as a dopey smile widens across his cheeks. Bitting your bottom lip, you shimmy your chest in his face. “Whatdya say, my little honey bunny~?” Lucifer becomes weak and flops back on the bed, laying on his back as you straddle his lap still, enjoying seeing him in this state of desire and embarrassment. He puts an arm over his face in hopes of hiding from you but of course, you pull his arm away and look down at him with a loving gaze. He looks so precious right now- in this silly costume just for you, blushing and sweating and speechless all for you, and covered in your lipstick too.
“No, no…” With a loud and exaggerated sigh, Lucifer sits up and gives you gentle hug, now letting his head rest on your plush chest. “We should go. It’ll be good to make an appearance, catch up with some friends.” After a tight hug, you happily hop off his lap and grab his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Great choice, my love. This will be fun! And I’ll be with you the whole time.” You assure him before leaning over and straightening out his bow tie. Without warning, you use the fabric around his neck to pull him into another heated kiss, this time Lucifer’s hands come to your hips as he hums against your lips.
“Fuck, you’re so cute. Promise you’ll mess up my makeup later then?” You nuzzle your nose against his face as you await his reply. He hesitates, obviously flustered and trying to keep his dick under control. “Anything you want, my love.” And now you’re giggling again, pulling him by the hand out the front door. “Oh! I forgot, lemme get something to wipe your face. You’ve got lipstick every-“
Lucifer pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he smirks devilishly. He continues to pull you along out the door. “I already look silly, right? Eh, just leave it. It’ll let everyone know that the babe in the black lipstick beside me… Yeah, she’s mine and I’m hers.” It’s your turn to blush and oh boy, do you turn red.
And the whole car ride there, you’re just covering him in more and more kiss marks, even leaving a hicky or two on him as he fondles your chest and slowly becomes drunk off your lips. You two walk into the party looking disheveled but happy, Luci covered in lipstick and sweat while your hair is a bit of a mess now and your lipstick is almost completely wiped off. Hes really glad he decided to wear the bunny ears after all because he loves the way you keep looking at him tonight.
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yes-divine-ruler · 11 months
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(18+!!) ok wait so… It’s Halloween… you’re out with Tate… he can’t keep it together because your costume makes him horny.
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Tate holds your hand tightly as you both venture down the sidewalk. His costume is eerily familiar. He wears a long, black trench coat and his face had been painted in likeness to a skeleton. His blonde, usually curly, hair is slicked back out of his face. His grip on your hand tightens as you pass by other people your age, some shamelessly taking in the appearance of your revealing costume. Much to Tate’s annoyance, you insisted that Halloween was the one time of year you had an excuse to dress like you were begging for it. The delicate lace that decorates your cleavage distracts Tate more than once. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans just from lingering beside you. At times, he takes a moment to trail behind you to catch a glimpse of the mounded flesh of your ass cheeks from under your tiny skirt. You know what his game is, of course, and occasionally brush the back of your hand across the front of his jeans. Tate doesn’t take to it lightly, and after teasing him for the forth, and final, time, he has no choice but to trap you behind a big, oak tree in the park and bend you over. His fingers make quick work of your panties, tugging the thin, soaked piece of fabric down your long legs. Your ass jiggles around his hand as he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them upwards to press against your sweet spot. “Thought you could tease me and get away with it? In that little, slutty costume?” He mumbles huskily against the shell of your ear, tickling his nose with the freshly-washed hair on the side of your head. You smelt like vanilla, and a hint of coconut. A sweet and sensual scent that had Tate moaning softly against you. Tate spits, directly onto your needy cunt, using his fingertips to spread the saliva over your pulsing clit. “Tate, please, I need you inside me,” you plead, reaching around to grasp onto his throbbing cock, sure to be staining his boxers with smears of pre-cum. Tate unveils his rock-hard length, stroking it with a mix of your arousal and his saliva. He teases you, circling your entrance with the leaking tip of his cock. Caving to his own eagerness, it’s not long before Tate is stretching you out with his girth. Your fingernails dig into the flaking bark of the tree, trying your hardest to find the leverage you need to soften each ravaging thrust. Soft whimpers turn into loud, destitute moans. Tate’s hand wraps around your mouth to stop the ruckus you’re making in an attempt to shield you from the eyes of passer-byers. “That’s it baby, take my fucking cock. You love how it fills you to the fucking brim, don’t you?” Tate’s grip on you only get tighter as he slams into your poor, little cunt, using it to alleviate his painful desire for you. Stars appear behind your closed eyelids when Tate’s free hand slithers down between your body and the trunk of the tree to stimulate your swollen clit. “Uh fuck- can feel you squeezing tight around me, let up sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum,” Tate seethes behind clenched teeth, the lewd, squelching sounds each thrust pulls from your dripping cunt pushing you both a step towards release. It’s not long before the intense pleasure of Tate’s tip nudging against your sweet spot sends you over the edge. Tate holds you up as your orgasm washes over you in big, tremulous waves. Tate growls into your hair, a few last thrust just enough for him to let go inside of your clenching walls. When he pulls out, he’s quick to pull up your panties, rubbing over the cloth to make sure his cum stays with you. “You’re gonna walk around the rest of the night with these soaking wet panties. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint. You little tease.” He tucks himself away, and taking a hold of your hand again, he begins to pace down the sidewalk like nothing happened. Even though, you can barely stand on your two feet from how weak your legs are now.
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eagerbby · 2 years
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ʙᴏᴏ? - ᴇ.ᴍ
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pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| It was supposed to be a joke, payback, revenge, until it spiraled completely out of control. Just your luck.
an| inspired by the prompt "I hid in your closet to scare you as a joke but when you came in you started masturbating and I can't just get up and leave but if I get caught in your closet you'll think I'm a pervert I regret my life choices" from here. my brainrot is thriving.
warnings| 3k, masturbating (m), reader being a perv obvi, illusions to sex, 18+ folks
part 2
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It escalated quickly; too quickly to even process what you were doing, and what you were doing wasn’t even a good idea to begin with, but it was the only thing you could think of. 
The Hellfire Club was currently in the midst of a rather heated prank war, started of course by their relentless leader himself, and you had slowly been dragged into the cruel web he had begun to weave three weeks ago. 
It was annoying at first, Eddie jump scaring you every chance he could. Jumping out from behind the cafeteria doors, slamming his hand against the locker next to yours while you were in deep thought digging through your own locker, or four days ago when he hid in the backseat of your car only to reveal himself once you’d hit five over the speed limit on the main road home; you almost crashed your car that day because of him. 
He was a menace and although the other guys had it much worse than you, Eddie seemed to take more pleasure from simply spooking you. But at least it wasn’t shaving cream in your book bag like poor Gareth or when he stole the chains off Mike and Dustin’s bikes before school ended leaving them stranded -although he did give them a ride home after they got down and praised King Eddie- in hindsight you were getting off pretty easy in comparison.
But still, that last prank got to you, the seriousness of almost wrecking had scared you shitless. Enough that you had to pull over on the side of the road, trying not to break down in front of him. He had felt bad, you could see it on his face as he tumbled into the front seat and begged you to not cry, but you were just so mad you kicked him out of your car and drove off.
That’s how your little plan came to fruition. You skipped your last period just to make sure you’d beat him to his cozy little trailer on the outskirts of town, greeting his uncle Wayne as you ducked under his arm and into the living room. 
“Whatcha doin’, kiddo?” He asked, blue eyes narrowed in amusement. 
“Gonna scare the shit outta your devious little shit of a nephew.” You say simply as you fill a glass with cold water from the tap. 
Wayne catches the wild glint in your eye, the mirror image of the one his nephew harbors in his own big brown ones. The older man could only shake his head, muted blue eyes dancing with amusement as he said..
“Give him hell, dollface.” Before he’s headed down the porch steps to his beat up Chevy truck. 
Which brings you to right now, stuffed tight in Eddie’s messy closet, the fake fur of his creepy Alf costume tickling the back of your neck, your heart thudding loudly in your chest when you finally hear the loud wail of metal and the screeching of tires against gravel. 
There isn’t much to your plan here other than jump out and make him scream. Make him regret fucking with you so hard the past three weeks. You’ve been giving him the cold shoulder since you both almost died -he’s lucky you had just got your brakes changed, a week earlier and you both would have been seriously hurt- which meant he wouldn’t be expecting your revenge, instead thinking you were still pissed. Which you kinda were, but he didn’t make it easy. He’d been groveling nonstop since it happened, bringing you little presents in hopes you’d forgive him, and you had but you still wanted revenge.
You hear him as he bounds up the steps, humming to himself, he slings the front door open followed by the sound of the lock clicking in place. Your fingers tremble in anticipation, adrenaline bleeding heavily from your pores. It’s unbearably stuffy in his little closet, sweat beading on your forehead and between your breasts, and the only light comes from a crack in the sliding door giving you a full view of his mirror. You can see him in its reflection, coming down the hall with his wild hair bouncing around his shoulders, eyes locked onto the cassette in his hands. 
He enters his cramped bedroom and goes straight to his tape deck, the pink tip of his tongue trapped between plush lips as he stuffs the tape in and hits play, surprisingly turning the sound to a reasonable volume. As the music softly spills from the speakers he shrugs out of his denim vest and jacket combo, pulling his black tattered Iron Maiden shirt with the sleeves haphazardly cut off over his head. As he tosses it to the floor, the lyrics of the song he’s skipped to floods your ears. You know this song, love this song, fuck, you showed him this song. He’s humming along to it as he kicks off his sneakers, shimmies out of his black ripped jeans, calloused fingertips gliding gently down his soft tummy into the waistband of his boxers. 
Okay, what the fuck. You clamp your eyes shut before you can see too much. This is absolutely, positively, not part of your plan. His bed springs groan as the lyrics echo around his room and you sit in his closet with your hands over your eyes trying not to breathe too loud. 
Let's get away, just for one day,
Let me see you stripped down to the bone.
It was your Depeche Mode cassette, the one you’d lost a couple weeks ago and tore your room and car apart in a frenzy to find. You never did and now you know why; because you dear friend Eddie had stolen it.
Fuck this, you think to yourself as you raise off your feet in the cramped space. You’re about to bust out, ask him why he sat there and listened to you whine for days about your missing tape knowing full well he had it, when you hear something that makes your body freeze. 
It’s soft, gentle as a breeze, but loud enough to still hear over the song playing from his speakers. A moan, shaky and almost desperate, and you can’t help when you peek out the slit of the door and catch sight of him in the mirror. Your mouth goes dry, eyes so wide they must be bugging out of your head, you’re looking into a mirror except you can’t see yourself, no, but you can see him and the sight is fucking beautiful. 
Eddie’s laid out long ways across his bed, bare feet planted on the shag carpet just a couple feet from your hiding spot in the closet, his eyes are closed and his fist is wrapped tightly around the head of his cock. 
“O-oh f-fuuck.” He whines, thumb dragging across his weeping slit, smearing the precum that beads there across the red mushroom head of his rather thick cock. Jesus, you had shamefully imagined what he was packing under those tight pants he always wore, usually alone at night in your bed, but never did you think you’d actually see it. Especially not like this. 
Oh, this is wrong, so fucking wrong. You shouldn’t be here right now watching him thrust up slowly into his cock, shouldn’t lick your lips as he roams his hands over his bare chest, his fingers tweaking a nipple making his cock visibly twitch at the sensation. You shouldn’t be wet between your legs, squeezing your thighs together as best you can without moving much or making any noise. This is perverted, sick and twisted, a complete violation of Eddie’s privacy, but what are you supposed to do? You should have jumped out as soon as he came in, should have stopped him as soon as he got his shirt off, but instead you stayed frozen in place among Eddie’s clothes and now it was too late. You couldn’t just cover your eyes and leave, no that’d be horrifying for the both of you. Which left only one option; wait for him to finish and hope to a God you weren’t sure you believed in that he leaves right after. 
But that’s also a problem because you can’t not hear the pretty moans that fall from his lips. Can’t ignore the way the bed frame creaks as his hips pick up a steady pace. Can’t stop looking into that stupid fucking mirror and biting your lip at the sight of him completely lost in his pleasure. 
You are so going to hell.
“Oh, fuck, baby. J-just like that.” 
Your pussy floods at just the mere sound of his voice, clouded with lust and his impending orgasm. You can see how close he is, his tummy flexing hard as his hand fucks his cock faster. He isn’t gentle with himself, not like before, fucking his fist with fast sloppy thrusts of his hips as he presses his head back into his ruffled sheets. You can’t peel your eyes from him, can’t stop the constant squeeze of your thighs as your body begs for some kind of friction. And you definitely can’t stop the looming thought that if you get caught Eddie will probably never talk to you again. 
You wouldn’t blame him. 
There’s a new song playing but you can’t really hear it, aren’t even paying attention, not when Eddie shifts up to lean on one elbow to watch himself work. He gasps at a rather rough flick of his wrist, biting his lip as his eyes flutter closed, his long black lashes dancing across his pale skin. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, watching intently through the mirror. 
You watched porn before but this, this was better than anything you’ve ever seen, and if you weren’t such a coward -and if you weren’t hiding in his fucking closet- you’d fall to your knees in front of him. Beg him to come all over your face, down your throat, in your tight pussy. You’d find your filthiest words, bat your eyes all innocent, drag your nails over his hairy thighs, just to see him cum. To watch his face scrunch up and mouth fall slack as he painted you all pretty in his hot seed. 
Yeah, if you didn’t get caught -and probably still if you did- you were so using the sight of your best friend fucking his fist to get off later. 
Maybe you were a pervert after all. 
Eddie’s moans are getting louder, hot breathy noises falling from his bitten lips, he’s visibly having a hard time keeping his eyes open, obviously lost in whatever scenario he is conjuring up behind his eyes. Your hands were gripping the fabric of your skirt as tight as you can, trying your best to restrain from shoving your hand underneath and thrusting your finger deep inside your tight, wanting, hole. His fingers would feel so much better, long and thin, you know they must be talented considering how good he is with a guitar. All this thinking has your chest heaving, hands shaking, breathing slowly in and out of your nose. You can feel your willpower slipping away, gone without a trace, you need him to hurry up. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to handle this much longer. 
But then Eddie says something so out of left field, so far from anything you’ve ever heard come from his mouth, that your brain completely malfunctions. 
“Just like that, y/n. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” It’s all a tangled whine, your name a quivered pant, and you gasp so loudly you make yourself jump, backing up deep into his closet as you watch his head spring up. 
Silence. Horrible, retched, silence as you cover your mouth with a shaky hand and close your now watery eyes. He heard you, you know it, and now all the heat and blood have left your aching core to wash over the apples of your cheeks. Hot like lava, the embarrassment of being caught doing something so wrong makes your eyes water. 
He’s never gonna speak to you again. 
There’s a click as the tape deck stops and then the drag of his closet door sliding open and you want to drop dead where you stand. 
“Y/n” Eddie asks, all quiet and gravelly, arousal still heavy in his throat. You can’t look at him, can’t dare raise your eyes away from your feet. 
“Boo?” Out of all the things you wanted to say, that was the only word to come out, soft as a whisper.
“W-What are you doing?” Good question, you think. What the fuck are you doing? 
“It’s not what you think.” You say quickly with a dark humorless chuckle, eyes bouncing to his before you completely fucking regret it and lower them back to the floor. He looks too good right now with his pupils blown wide and a sheen of sweat on his bewildered face. “I was go-gonna get you back for scaring me so much, but then you started…” You gesture your hand in the direction of his cock, braving a quick glimpse before slamming your eyes shut. He’s still naked, standing in front of you with a pillow covering his bare waist, and it’s just too much. 
“How much d-did you hear?” He asks softly, shuffling from foot to foot as he scratches the back of his neck. His nervous tick. 
“Uhm, well, not… not a lot…” It’s kinda comical how unbelievable you sound and Eddie must think so too because he huffs out a laugh as he backs up to his bed, plopping down on the side of it and adjusting his pillow shield.
“So you heard everything then. Fucking fantastic.” You step out of the closet finally, shuffling quietly against the carpet as you close the door back and face him, hands clasped together in front of your chest.
“Are- Do you hate me now, Eds?” You ask, perturbed, fiddling with the black and red yarn bracelet around your wrist. The same one Eddie wore; a friendship bracelet he’d given to you after the first time you’d hung out one on one.  
Eddie seems puzzled by your question, going to stand before he quickly realizes he’s only wearing a pillow. “Wait a second, will ya?” He asks and you nod covering your eyes as if you hadn’t just been watching him jerk off. When he's done, presumably getting dressed, he taps your elbow and when you don’t uncover your face, he grips your forearms softly and guides them away. He offers you a friendly smile when you meet his doe eyes. 
“I don’t hate you.” He says softly, the heat of his fingers leave goosebumps on your skin.
“I would.” You mumble, shifting from one foot to the other. 
“I thought you were mad at me?” He asks, trying to catch your eye but you’re too busy counting the tears in your worn out converse. 
“M not mad. I just wanted to get you back.” You offer and out of the corner of your eye you can see him nod. 
“Glad you’re not mad still.” He says and then, “How’d you get in, sweetheart?” 
“Wayne let me in, before he left. I skipped last period to get here before you. I swear, Eddie, I only wanted to jump scare you like you’ve been doing to me for the past month, I-I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do when you started..” 
“Hey,” He chirps, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, and you try not to think about where that hand just was because if you do you’re gonna start thinking about the sounds he made while it was wrapped tight around his- no stop it. 
Even in the middle of the most embarrassing conversation you’ve ever had, your thoughts betray you with images of his hot, rock hard, cock. 
“It’s no biggie, really. I should have figured something was up, Wayne never leaves the door unlocked.” He’s fucking smiling at you now, a full smile that shows his teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes and for some reason unknown to you; it really irritates you.
“No biggie?” You cry, pushing him away from you, and his face falls but you can’t handle him being so close to you right now. “You just caught me spying on you while you jerked off, but it’s no biggie?”
“Yeah, no biggie. No big deal.” Eddie draws out his words, hand rolling in the air as he elaborates. “I’m not mad at you. No biggie.” 
“Eddie, I feel like such a perv-” You start, eyes still watery with shame, but Eddie cuts you off. 
“You literally watched me jerk my dick while thinking about you, I think we’re both falling pretty hard on the pervert line here, sweetheart.”
You look him in the eye, finally, trying to judge if he truly means what he says. You find honesty, and something else you can’t quite decipher, with his gaze locked onto you and you nod and give him an unsteady smile before sinking onto the edge of his bed. 
“‘M sorry.” You tell him. “Really.” 
Eddie shakes his head, sitting down next to you in only his boxers, and places a hand on your bare knee. That fire surges again, deep in your bones, shooting through you like a bullet at the small contact.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m no worse for wear because of it. Kinda-” He trails off for a moment, reaches back to scratch at his neck again. “Kinda hot thinking about you watching me without me even knowing.” 
Oh. Oh. 
You really should have figured he’d be into it. Little freak. 
“Was kinda hot watching you…” You offer shyly, biting your lip as Eddie beams at you.
“Yeah?” He asks, his nose scrunching up all cutely as his cheeks flush.
“Mhm, you know I’ve had a crush on you since, like, forever right?” 
“Okay, don’t fuck with me like that.” He warns, umber eyes searching your smiling face. 
“Not lying.” It’s simple, matter of fact. Eddie blushes even deeper. 
“Well, fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, unable to wipe the cheesy smile from his lips. “I guess I don’t have to tell you I feel the same, huh?” 
You laugh at this, leaning your head onto his bare shoulder. “No, I think I got the message in technicolor. You could put the porn industry to shame, Eddie.” 
“You’re gonna give me a big head, sweetheart.” 
“You already have one, Eddie.” You say, eyes falling to his lap. 
Eddie chokes out a laugh in disbelief, shoving you back onto the bed to hover over you. 
“You’re a little minx, aren’t you? Who woulda thought.” He teases with his face buried in your neck, lips ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 
“Don’t you have Hellfire Club or something, you horn dog?” You ask acerbically and yet you still push your hips up to meet his when he bites down on your jugular. 
“Mhm, they can wait. Found something better than playing D&D in a cluttered theater room.” He hums against you, lips following the curve of your jaw with feather light kisses. 
“The guys would kill me if I was the reason you didn’t finish the campaign tonight.” You push him back by the shoulders smiling up at him as he watches you giggle at the sight of his bangs lifted up off his forehead. 
“I can always just kill them all, they’ll be more mad about that.” He dives back to your neck, sucking and licking every inch of skin he can find, and as much as you want to stay here in his bed and fuck like bunnies; you’d hate to be the reason he was late. So you push him again, harder this time, until he rolls off you with a groan, slamming his fists into the mattress as you stand. 
“You know I never got to cum, right? I’m aching right now, need you to help take my pain away, baby.” He’s pouting, lips jutted out, eyes like a puppy, and everything in you is screaming to give in to his guilt trip, help this poor helpless man out. 
But that wouldn’t be any fun. So you lean over him, hands on either side of his head, and kiss him slowly. Mold your lips against his, drag your teeth sensually over his bottom lip, give him the most sultry look you can muster. It must work because his whole body shudders under your, desperate hands snaking up your skirt to grab your ass.
“Go to Hellfire, Eddie.” He groans at your words in disappointment, head falling back into his sheets. 
“You’re mean.” He whines, slapping his hand firmly onto your ass cheek. You hiss at the pain that ebbs to pleasure and take his jaw in your hand, forcing him to look at you again. 
“You didn’t let me finish. Go to Hellfire and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a helping hand after.” You lean down, tongue grazing the shell of his ear before whispering, “A helping hand, an open mouth, a tight wet pussy.” 
Another shiver and his hand gripping tight on the back of your neck pulling you up so you can see his wicked, lopsided, grin.
“That’s not helping my little problem, baby.”
You giggle. “There’s nothing little about your problem, Eds.” 
Eddie groans loudly, covering his face with the back of his arm but you’re swatting it away, giggling at his fiery red cheeks. You shower his face with kisses, every inch of rosy skin, until he's pulling you into his chest and caressing the edge of your jaw as he gazes at you with stars in his eyes.  
The look in his eyes tells you your friendship is no longer that, instead there's a promise lying in his shimmering irises, something that was always there but you could never figure out the meaning to it. Maybe you were always destined to be more than friends, maybe this crazy -fucking bizarre- series of events was fated. You and Eddie, not as friends but as something more. Maybe the two of you were written in the fucking stars or something. 
You’d like to find out.
So you kiss him once more, different than before, savoring the way he follows after your lips, how he cradles your head so tenderly as he kisses you back with the same fervor. Too soon you’re climbing off of him, smoothing out the pleats of your black checkered skirt as he watches with that endearing little pout. 
“Lets go, Dungeon Master, the masses await thee.” He takes your outstretched hand, raising to his feet. He looks down at himself, in only his green boxers, and smiles at you all cheekily. 
“Think they’d still respect me if I showed up like this?” 
You pick his jeans up off the floor and place them in his hands. “Mm, probably not. But I’ll help you get undressed later, like I said, helping hand and all.” 
“Fuck, my little minx.” 
11K notes · View notes
essaytime · 3 months
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A lot of productions (or production ideas) for Romeo and Juliet come up with elaborate aesthetics for both of the feuding families, and there is definitely a charm as well as a large degree of blessed creativity to this, but honestly, the more I think about the play, the more I feel the most resounding choice with me, given the play's meaning, would be to make the Montagues and the Capulets' costumes very, very similar. Almost identical - the same silhouettes, materials, everything. Have the only thing signalling which family it is be a ribbon or band tied around the arm, a particular embellishment at the collar of a dress or shirt, maybe some item of clothing that's easy to take off, like a vest or small cape, or a scarf. Maybe aside from the Lords and Ladies of both surnames, they could wear something that's entirely in their family's chosen colours/symbols, but the rest of the family and their supporters? Just these details. Because that's really one of the things that hit so hard in the text: there is literally no reason for the feud. There's no logically existing divide. We have two influential families of equal standing, who live by the same customs, whose children probably have the same education, who employ people with the same mindset and themselves presumably have the same mindset. They could very well live beside each other, they could very well switch places and be each other. These poor teenagers in Romeo and Juliet are forced to live in a world shaped by something that just doesn't exist. And they're mistreated, and they struggle, and they die - at more or less fourteen or fifteen! - for something that doesn't exist. Because at this point there is no reason to go on with this conflict, if there even was one in the first place, which I doubt. I think there is a lot of sense in the fact that we never learn why the Capulets despise the Montagues and vice versa. I wouldn't be surprised if during the time of the play there was just no one that could remember it. But still, this conflict, this absolutely empty, pointless, senseless conflict, wrecks the community of Verona, pitting citizens against each other and leading to innocent kids dying. And I think if I were directing the play, that's the thing I would emphasise: that they are really the same. Have Lord Montague make a similar scream, speak in a similar tone mourning his son as Lord Capulet did mourning his daughter. Have the servants at the beginning of the play use exactly the same gestures and mannerisms. Have the dear uninvited party-sneakers get along with Capulet youth at the ball and genuinely have fun together. And have the citizens at the end be all the same in their surprise and grief, virtually indistinguishable save for this ribbon or embellishment they can just rip off of their costume, becoming one whole crowd. All of these people could pass each other, say hello, gossip on the street with no problem - if it weren't for these details that somehow make them part of two different entities. For there is no border between the Capulets and the Montagues other than the artificial one they try to create themselves. And people die for it.
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yuri-is-online · 6 months
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The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme
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"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.
But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?
notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.
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Two sentences.
Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.
Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 
Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.
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~~~~
Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.
“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  
“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.
“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  
“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  
“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”
“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”
“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  
“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-
“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  
You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 
“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.
“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.
“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.
“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 
“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.
“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.
“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  
“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.
“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.
~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.
“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.
“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”
“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”
“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”
“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.
“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”
“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”
“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.
“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.
“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.
“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.
“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.
“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”
“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.
“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.
It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.
~~~~
Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.
“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”
The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 
Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.
They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 
“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.
“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”
“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  
“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”
“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.
Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.
“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.
“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  
~~~~
For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.
“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  
“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.
“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  
“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”
“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”
“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 
“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 
“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”
“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.
“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.
“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”
“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  
“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  
“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.
“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.
“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  
“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”
“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.
“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”
“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.
“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.
~~~~
There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 
“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  
“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 
“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.
“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.
There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.
“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.
“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.
“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.
“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.
“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”
“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.
“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.
“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”
“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.
“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?
“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.
“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.
His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.
Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.
~~~~
“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  
“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.
“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.
“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.
“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  
“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.
Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?
“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”
“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  
“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”
“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.
“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.
~~~~
Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.
“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  
You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.
“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.
“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”
“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.
“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”
“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  
“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  
“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.
“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-
“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”
~~~~
“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.
“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”
“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  
“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”
“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”
“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”
“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”
“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 
“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”
~~~~
“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”
“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”
“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  
“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.
“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”
“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”
“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  
“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  
The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.
About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.
“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.
~~~~
“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”
“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.
“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”
“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  
“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.
“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”
“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”
“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.
“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.
“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  
“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”
“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.
“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.
“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”
“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.
Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.
Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.
Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  
What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?
He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.
“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.
“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”
“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”
“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-
“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.
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riseofamoonycake · 7 months
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Hi! I would like to read something about female!reader sending nudes or photos in bath suit to her s/o.
Free choice on the characters, but I don't follow ror or bsd, so if you can don't choose these fandoms.
Ok! Since you didn't specify anything, I chose some interesting babe from a fandom I accept and made some hcs eheheh... and thank you *^* I had a very pleasant time while writing it!
Reacting to you willingly sending them a nude (or a photo in bathing suit)
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Featuring: some of my favorite men in JJK
Choso, Kashimo Hajime, Higuruma Hiromi x fem!reader
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Choso
As soon as Choso sees the notification of your message, he doesn't think twice and opens it immediately, innocently, even smiling: so, out of the blue, this poor boy finds himself in front of a photo of your body thight in a skimpy swimsuit, which leaves very little to the imagination and yet covers what it needs to cover.
Choso stares at the screen for a split second, just long enough to realize what he is looking at, then turns completely red and has to take his eyes away to focus on something else, whatever it is, while shaking all over and starting to sweat profusely. You hit him, you knocked him out: congratulations, you killed Choso. After this experience, he will never be the same as before.
The blush accompanies him for the rest of the day, as well as what he saw: there is no possibility of making him forget the vision of your breasts wrapped in that miserable flap of fabric, of your plush thighs, of all that exposed skin and only for him… and as soon as Choso sees you again, it gets worse, because he can't even speak and you have to be the one to come closer, take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, and hug his neck while you ask him if everything okay, chuckling as I notice his usual paleness softened by a nice bright red.
"Did you have to do it? What is it, a new form of punishment?", he whispers to you in a faint voice, without the courage to look at your face or touch you; and for the rest of the day he will be on another world. Poor puppy, let him breathe and recover a little; afterwards you will have a lot to talk about…
… And in any case, the photo was more than welcome.
Kashimo Hajime
"Aaaahhh, what a naughty girl…"
Without hiding an amused and excited smile at the same time, Kashimo continues to observe the photo you sent him, observing every detail of that body fully enhanced by the costume you are wearing and barely hidden by the sarong that you - stupidly - decided to put around your waist, so he carefully saves the photo, closes his cell phone and shakes his head, placing that vision in a safe corner of his mind and continuing to do what he had to do: whether he was in the midst of combat or engaged in a simple errand, the pleasure only comes in following duty, otherwise it cannot be fully exalted. Every now and then the photo comes back to him, as it should, but he manages to keep it at bay and not let it interfere with his duties; but when the god of lightning has completed all his commitments and can dedicate himself only to his beautiful partner… it is better for you to start running away.
It is really necessary for you to find a safe haven, because wherever he is, it takes Kashimo just a few minutes to reach you and appear in front of you, his eyes wide with excitement and the most perverse grin you have ever seen crossing his face. Electric shocks crackle around him, aiming in your direction like hissing snakes, almost enveloping you as his arms tighten around your back with energy.
"There she is, the little brat! What did you think you were doing by sending me that photo, hmmm? And why have you already got dressed?"
Well, I told you to escape: now, enjoy as much as possible Kashimo's hot hands that grab and squeeze you, tearing everything you are wearing to caress and pinch the flesh underneath, while his mouth it closes around the neck and bites it with the same hunger as a wolf, carving its mark on your throat, or it seeks the warmth of already dripping folds into which to insert that long and already darting tongue…
Higuruma Hiromi
Your photo arrives just at the most suitable time of the day, when there is total chaos in the law firm, and Higuruma opens the message almost by chance, as if to seek salvation and a bit of calm in your words.
And words are not at all.
The man's breathing is the only thing that changes in him, because his face remains impassive: however, his mind goes blank for an instant while the image of your naked body comes to occupy the entire screen and pushes away practices, tasks and deadlines with the force of a kiss, and he no longer hears anything or responds to anyone.
After entire minutes of silence and immobility, only a: "… Oh?" soft as a caress leaves his lips as he continues to stare at the screen and everyone believes that he is simply enchanted reading something, even if his eyes remain fixed and no one dares to come closer to check what is happening; and in the end the lawyer takes a weak sigh, closes his cell phone and goes back to his work as if nothing had happened, even if his day has completely changed.
His serious expression doesn't change even when he comes home and sees you, and initially he doesn't reply to your smile; then, just before you can say anything, he steps in front of you and stares straight into your eyes. “So, about what you sent me today…” A pause. "Show me the proof of what you say."
You laugh, already knowing where he is going with this; a matter of a few moments, before he grabs your face and gives you an intense kiss, one hand tightening around your hair to gently pull it and the other already undressing you, while he presses his chest against yours until he pushes you against the wall. You smile as you say goodbye to your clothes and underwear, because nothing can stop Hiromi until you are completely naked, just covered by that veil of light coming from the chandelier; and he can grab your hips and dig his nails into them while he lifts and holds you pressed against the wall with his own body, undressing himself just enough to allow you to caress him and him to take you in place and find relief in your soft arms.
Your excited gaze and bated breath push him to start to destroy you slowly but firmly, savoring your every moan and tremble, staring at you while you throw your head back and expose the throat to everything he wants to do to it. You richly deserved it, with your beautiful photo; just as you also deserved the long spanking session that will fall on your sweet buttocks as soon as Higuruma has tamed you well and then his gavel will find a fun use on you for the whole night…
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luminetti · 8 months
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Dressed to Kill
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༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release
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Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 
As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.
Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.
‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.
Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.
This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.
You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.
The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.
Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.
“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.
You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.
Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”
You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”
She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.
Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”
“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.
She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.
 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.
You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”
She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.
“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.
Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”
Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.
You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.
From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”
The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.
Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.
Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.
“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.
You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.
Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.
You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.
He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.
You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.
“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.
“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”
Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.
As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.
His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.
“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.
He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.
You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.
“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”
You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.
Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”
He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”
Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.
You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.
“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.
You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.
His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”
Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”
He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.
In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.
Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.
Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.
Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.
You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.
You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.
“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.
Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.
“And if I have?”
Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.
You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.
‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.
It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.
As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.
You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.
“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.
You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.
Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.
Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.
You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.
At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.
But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.
When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.
“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”
You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”
Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.
“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.
You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.
“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”
You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.
Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.
As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.
B.K.
With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.
Sure enough, you had one new notification.
@DynamightOfficial followed you back
The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.
Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.
u take commissions?
ive got something in mind for ya
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lorephobic · 7 months
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literally nobody asked for it, but here's my list of saltburn essays that i've slowly been drafting over the course of the last week which WILL be required reading for anybody trying to engage with me about this movie. my very personal saltburn 101 syllabus just dropped
A Wolf in Deer's Clothing: Saltburn's Attempt at Innocence
an examination of party costumes and our character's last attempts to masquerade as something they're not: felix—an angel, all-forgiving and all-knowing, something to be worshiped; and oliver—a prey animal, prey to class-divide, prey to saltburn, prey to felix.
thoughts about oliver specifically are loosely organized in my #bambi tag
A Midsummer Night's Mare: Farleigh Start as the Ultimate Victim of Saltburn
a farleigh character study, about the ways he was mistreated and manipulated at saltburn, about fighting to stay alive and the scars left behind by knowing when to give in
alternatively titled "QuickStart", may be adapted into a conclusive essay specifically focusing on oliver and farleigh's relationship
The Eye of the Beholder: On Saltburn's Voyeurism & Violence [working title]
how wealth and class pushes the catton's toward the volatile reality of being able to look, but not touch. on desire and the lack thereof, and portraying yourself as an object to be desired
may end up as two separate essays on wealth and aestheticism but i'm pushing toward a conclusive essay about the intersection of the two, which i feel is at the heart of saltburn
alternatively titled "Poor Man's Pudding: A Melvillian Approach to Saltburn's Class", again, may be adapted into it's own essay
Gender-Fluid: A Study in Sexuality and Saltburn's Desire to be Dry
a deep dive into the bodily fluids of saltburn and how oliver upsets the standard of men who are just so lovely and dry. on the creative choice to lean into the messy wetness of sex and desire and the audience's instinct toward repulsion
a celebration of the grotesque and an examination of why we would label it as such
least developed of the four, heavily inspired by @charnelpit's lovely post about the fluids in saltburn
if anybody is actually interested in any of these, i can work toward something closer to a finished piece instead of just bullet points and quotes in a google doc, but mostly this is so i can share my very brief takes on a multitude of themes in saltburn that have been haunting me
edit for people seeing this in the future: all posts about my essays are being organized into my #saltburn 101 tag if you’re interested in following these through to development!
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bigfatbreak · 1 year
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mazsola01
don't get me wrong I LOVE your designs but why did you put her in a sensory deprivation costume if I in my teen years was given a choice of "you can try to protect your loved ones BUT you can't see, hear, or speak without someone's help" I would need a therapist. You keep shoving angst into the poor girl (again I LOVE IT but give her a break she deserves a nap)
tbh I just wanted there to be a bit more risk and reward aspect. in the show hawkmoth can just like. do some plot armor bullshit and Become Stronger by Wanting To Be and I thought that was sillyx100, so the current thought is that, the more she "gives up" to communicate, the stronger her "transmission" powers are. she CAN make it so she can see/hear/talk etc, but in doing so, it makes her akuma less powerful. the butterflies she harbors are WAY stronger than cockmoth's, especially since she imbues them with different emotions, not just negativity.
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twiisted-king · 1 year
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✧ Gwen Stacy GF HC’s ✧
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➟ Gwen Stacy / GN!Reader 🕸️🤍
➟ SFW ( she’s 16 you sick fucks )
➟ TW : Depression mentions & Injuries/Blood ( It’s fairly fluffy <3 )
————————————————————————
— At first, Gwen didn’t think that she had a crush on you. She denied it up and down even though it was abundantly obvious y’all had chemistry.
— She was Spider-Woman! She didn’t have time for relationships and all the unnecessary parts of life.
— It was frustrated Gwen to hell and back just trying to ignore her feelings. She would avoid you at school, take extra long patrols, anything to get you off her mind.
— Until you started noticing how she had been avoiding you. I don’t think Gwen is the best at processing her emotions and when you confront her about it she sort of breaks down in a way. She apologizes for ignoring you then quickly decides to just give up the ghost and confess.
— Poor Gwen is standing there, smiling awkwardly at you and convincing herself you are absolutely going to reject her. Until you don’t and then she nearly has a heart attack on the spot.
— Gwen definitely gets better at being a girlfriend as time progresses. She always leaves little notes for you, texts you whenever she can, and bring you your favorite snacks. Gwen’s love language is definitely Acts of Service and Quality Time.
— You’re craving ice cream at 12 o’clock at night? Good because she is to and she’s already out the door to the nearest gas station.
— However, one thorn in the relationship is the fact that she’s Spider-Woman. It gets harder to make excuses for why she’s covered in bruises and limping all the time. Maybe she should tell you? But what if you leave her or worse hate her for keeping such a big secret !? Gwen is definitely overthinking everything.
— Her secret is revealed one day when you unexpectedly come over to her apartment one day just as she’s crawling into the window in costume. Y’all have a little staring contest before she has to take off the mask because why the hell would Spider-Woman be crawling in your girlfriend’s window at 10 O’clock at night?
— Gwen definitely cries. Apologizing profusely and begging you not to tell her dad about any of this. Instead, you just hug her and she realizes that you aren’t mad at her. She answers any questions you have though is somewhat hesitant since she doesn’t want you getting dragged into any of it. Her first priority is making sure you are safe and no one finds out you’re Spider-Woman’s S/O.
— She takes you to your place of choice as an apology just to be extra EXTRA sure you aren’t mad at her.
— You patch up Gwen’s wounds all the time. Few words are spoke once the med kit comes out and she is grateful to have someone who is willing to deal with her crimefighting BS. Being a superhero can be super depressing and you are always there to be a shoulder for her to lean on.
— On a slightly more happy note, Gwen would love to teach you how to play the drums! It’s pretty adorable to see her get so excited about something she’s passionate about.
— Gwen always tries to get you something for your birthday. She’ll save up months in advance so she can get the perfect gift and take mental notes of what you like. She tried to make a cake one year .. that didn’t turn out well so she just bought one instead.
— She’ll let you borrow her clothes if you want and won’t say anything if it never appears in her closet again.
— I do think her dad would be supportive of the relationship. It’s a little awkward the first time y’all have dinner together, but George Stacy is fairly chill once you get to know him. This man makes shitty dad jokes though and tells embarrassing childhood stories about Gwen to you.
— SO many pictures of you. Not even just on her phone but also hung up around her room. It’s kind of cute how flustered she gets when you point out her phone wallpaper of y’all.
— Late night talks on rooftops. Gwen finds being outside relaxing and she’ll make a whole set up so you two can stargaze.
— Called you “ Babygirl “ as a joke once now it’s a running gag.
— She finds cursed images / 3 AM humor to be the absolute peak of comedy and sends the dumbest shit to you.
— She wanted to show off her webs to you once then proceeded to accidentally get your foot stuck to a wall and THEN got herself stuck trying to help.
— Movies dates are common and she’ll purposely pick out the worst ones so she can give commentary. Twilight was an absolute rollercoaster for her.
— Builds a cute little house in Minecraft for y’all to live in please just ignore the fact it has no roof and the floors are made of dirt.
— And the best girlfriend of the year award goes to Gwen Stacy :)
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