#DISCLAIMER I DO NOT KNOW MUCH ABOUT BALLET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idksmtms · 25 days ago

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Plié, Jeté, Relevé (Ballet Master!Cillian Murphy x Ballerina!reader)

A/N: Here you go my lovelies! I have literally never done ballet in my entire life, so any knowledge of this has come from watching tiktoks of ballerinas, movies with ballerinas in them, or my best guesses… anywaysssss, I hope you enjoy it!

Also, would highly recommend watching the performance of Still Life at the Penguin Cafe on youtube, the music and the dancing is *chefs kiss*

Summary: You were ready to admit that you hadn’t been at your best the past week or so, but surely you hadn’t been so bad as to deserve this much wrath from Mister Murphy…

Word count: 3,750

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, mean!Cillian, SMUT, dub-con bc of the power imbalance (?), fingering (technically?), humiliation (not as a kink tho), only reader orgasms, depiction of toxic teaching environment, (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

If anyone out there believed in the stereotype that all Irish people were happy and jovial then they clearly hadn’t met your ballet master. The man may speak with a lilting musical accent but there was not a thing jovial or happy about him. The master was harsh, verging on cruel. If anyone was caught slacking even the littlest bit, something that would go unnoticed by the rest of the troupe, his voice would crack like a whip through the studio.

Recently, that whip had been directed at you. You knew you weren’t doing your best. You had hit a rough patch in your entire life. You had been late more times than ever before, more times than you ever would usually be, more times than you would like. And your dancing had been affected as well. Your posture wasn’t straight enough, your pliés weren’t deep enough, your toes not pointed enough. Everything was going wrong, and while you had hoped it wasn’t noticeable, Mr Murphy never failed to find every SINGLE one of your mistakes.

Today differed in no way. You had dilly-dallied a little too long while getting ready in the morning, only to end up running late for rehearsal. It was no more than five minutes, but from the start of training it was the rule that all ballerinas must be lined up by the barre at exactly ten o’clock every day. For every minute you were late, the worse your punishment got. Usually if someone hit the five minute mark, they went home and sprained their ankle on purpose for an excuse.

At four minutes, you had run into the hallway outside the studio and thrown your bag onto the ground, disregarding the sound of your water bottle rolling away and one of your keychains cracking under the weight of your things. At five, you were throwing the door open and running inside, slipping into the back of the line and getting into first position.

Mr Murphy paused in his speech to gaze at you. You stared straight ahead, refusing to look directly at him. Slowly, his eyebrow rose, scrutinising you with a frown that made shame curl in your stomach and tears make themselves known behind your eyes. He slowly brought his hands together, rubbing them as he sighed and began shaking his head.

“Kind of you to join us,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he made his way closer to you, stepping leisurely, dragging out the fear that made your throat hurt. He stood a few feet away, staring at you in that impenetrable way of his, ice eyes sharp and painful wherever they gazed. He clapped his hands once. “Girls, turn and look at Ms. Y/L/N.” He waited until each of them had turned in their spots, some craning their heads to the side to make sure they were looking at you lest they somehow disobey him. You could see the pity, the sympathy, the smug triumph in each of the girls’ eyes, the frowns and subtle smirks, and you could do nothing other than keep staring ahead of you as your hands and knees suddenly began to tremble. “What is wrong with her?”

He didn’t ask it in a rude or incredulous way, but as if you were a diagram in a textbook, and this was simply an exercise the students were completing. You were sure your shame was visible on your face, the embarrassment turning your spine to liquid. One of the girls put her hand up, near the front of the room, and you only recognised her for the little kiss-ass she was once she spoke. She had always been that way, desperate for Mr Murphy. Always at the front of the line, always gleeful at the downfall of others, always ready to point out any mistakes. And you were always happy to watch her desperation help her in no way whatsoever. A lot could be said about Mr Murphy, but favouritism was not something he had ever displayed. Whichever ballerina was doing well, recognisably well, was given her dues, and it was left at that.

“She’s not wearing her tights and leotard, or at least, she’s wearing sweatpants over them. Her pointe shoes are dirty, and her hair isn’t in a bun.” You could almost imagine her satisfied little smirk when she finished speaking, that evil little smile that you had always wanted to punch off her face. One swing, you thought, just one swing…

“Correct,” he simply responded, threading his fingers through each other and raising his eyebrow at you again, as if confused and annoyed at you for not doing something. “Leave, get your shit together, and then come back inside. If you have not returned within ten minutes, don’t bother returning to rehearsal ever again.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the door and you nodded obediently, eyes downcast as you stood up straight and slowly walked back out.

When the door was closed behind you once more, you stood silently for a minute, eyes clenched shut and hands curled into fists at your sides. You pressed out a scream behind your pursed lips, teeth clenched so hard your jaw began to hurt. You slammed the heel of your hand against the side of your head again and again and again until your shoulder hurt a little from the motion and your brain felt sufficiently jumbled. Your chest was heaving and you were overwhelmed with rage. You wanted to kick something, to throw something, to go back in there and rip that bitch’s hair out of her bun. You resolved to pulling your pointe shoes off and lobbing them across the hallway as hard as you could, letting out another clenched scream before walking all the way down to pick them up and bring them back.

You stood in front of your bag and took three deep breaths. You picked up your water bottle from where it had rolled between another two of the ballerinas’ bags, and took huge gulps of water until you felt a little less sweaty with anger. You checked the time on your phone to make sure you hadn’t wasted your ten minutes, then set about carefully pulling off your joggers, folding them up, and placing them inside your duffel. You pulled out a new pair of pointe shoes, cursing yourself for not having prepared them in time and preemptively wincing at the blisters you knew you were going to get by the end of rehearsal. You walked down to the bathroom at the end of the hall in the pointe shoes, hoping to at least break them in a little bit with the short time you had, and used the mirror to quickly pull your hair into a bun, securing it with pins in a practised dance you had learned from years of repetition. You checked yourself once more in the mirror and then looked down at your phone before sprinting full on back to the room and sliding through the doors. You made it just in time.

Mr Murphy glanced at you as you slipped into position at the back of the line, following the exercises he had been calling out to the ballerinas while you had been out. He methodically looked at every inch of your body, from your pointe shoes to your pink tights and black leotard, from the careful set of your bun to the determined set of your brow and sheen of sweat on your temples. He didn’t say anything directly to you, and you took it as a win.

At the halfway point, you were all allowed a little break to drink water and have a rest before you switched from exercises to rehearsals for your next performance. You were all practising for your various roles in a performance of ‘Still Life at the Penguin Cafe’, and though you would have to wear a huge mask of a ram on your head, you were ecstatic for the performance. While it wasn’t technically a solo, you were the centre of the piece, being the only one not dressed as a penguin. Now, everything felt so precarious. You couldn’t quite be sure Mr Murphy wouldn’t take the role from you after the past two weeks spent in a slump, and the worry was becoming your ever-present companion.

Just as the girls were all leaving the room to get water and lounge around on the floor of the hallway, Mr Murphy cleared his throat and snapped his fingers at you.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” and he pointed at the spot right in front of him. It took everything within you not to sprint to the spot. You took careful, measured, steps and stopped a few feet in front of him, spine straight and head held high. You weren’t sure where to look. You could never meet his eyes, something in your soul was opposed to it, so you chose a spot on the wall just next to his head.

“You will stay for another hour at the end of the session to make up for your failures this morning, understood?” He raised both his eyebrows, hands on his hips. You closed your eyes, trying not to burst into tears like a child throwing a tantrum on the spot. You nodded, whispered a ‘yes, sir’ in a clogged voice, and waited until he dismissed you to walk out of the room.

You sat down by your bag with a sigh, arms slung over your knees as you cradled the water bottle close and pressed your face to it. You closed your eyes and allowed your head to dip down as some of your friends came to sit around you, offering pats of sympathy and words of comfort. You tried to smile, nodded in thanks, but you just wanted to curl up into a ball and never get back up.

The next few hours were spent going through each section of the dance. You felt lucky that you didn’t get to the Ram piece, you were sure you couldn’t hold it together long enough for that, only to be doused with cold water at the thought that you needed to stay longer afterward.

When rehearsal was over, Mr Murphy dismissed everyone right on the dot. He didn’t acknowledge you as the girls started leaving, the chatter slowly beginning to rise as they reached the door. For a moment you wondered if you could get away with leaving with everyone else, but just as you reached the door he called out “ten minutes at most, Ms Y/L/N, then I want you back in here.” Your bones seemed to disappear and you thought you would collapse to the floor in a heap of mushy flesh. Instead you nodded and wobbled your way outside to chug what was left of your water bottle, refill it, then chug the contents again as tears of exhaustion slipped from the corners of your eyes and mingled with the sweat dampening the hair by your temples and ears.

The ten minutes were up far too quickly and you stood with a groan, heading to the door once more. You gazed at the room from the door, the light hardwood floors, the wall of mirrors and the bar spanning the length of the room, the huge windows letting in swaths of natural light. You often forgot how beautiful the space was.

You walked slowly to where Mr Murphy stood, typing something on his phone and moving the speaker to face the room again. You stood before him, hands clasped and eyes downcast, waiting for instructions. For a while, he didn’t say anything. He was no longer on his phone, his hands hanging by his sides, and he stared at you. Every few seconds you glanced, trying to glimpse what was going to happen, but he just continued watching you, stoic as ever.

You could never tell what he was thinking. Never once had you been able to guess at his thought process, to figure out what was going on in his head. Maybe that was one of the reasons he intimidated you so much.

He walked closer, so close the toes of his shoes almost touched the toes of yours and you gulped, staring at the contrast, the black and the pink, the background of wood. His hand came up and he tapped up under your chin with the side of his index finger, waiting for you to lift your head. When you did, your entire face felt hot under the skin. He was so close, you could see the freckles splashed on his skin, the careful set of his cheekbones and jaw. You gulped. His eyes were so much more terrifying up close.

“You’ve been given a gift,” he began, slow and firm, “your ability, your natural rhythm, that is a gift. Unless you put in effort to finetune this gift, it goes to waste. Do you understand what I’m saying?” You nodded but he shook his head once. “Speak.”

“Yes sir,” you breathed out quickly, gulping when your mouth was closed again.

“I’m not sure you do, though,” and it felt like the hammer falling. His eyes seemed to harden a little, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “The past two weeks all I have seen is a sloppy, unprincipled, uncommitted dancer who deems merely showing up a success.” Each word was a stab to some part of you, and it took everything not to wilt completely to the floor. “You have been given one of the more difficult roles in the performance, and I once believed you deserved it. For the life of me, I cannot remember why.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you closed your eyes, throat bobbing as the despair that felt inevitable finally began to land.

He went silent, and that felt worse somehow. The backs of your eyelids began to burn and you clenched your hands tighter around each other, hoping the little pain it brought would distract from the tears. You berated yourself in your head. You yelled in your mind that this was a pathetic display, that it would be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done if you began to cry in front of him. He would think less of you, it would only confirm what he believed; you were weak. When you opened your eyes again, one traitorous tear slipped out and down your cheek. You could feel the hot, ticklish track it made down the skin. If you didn’t know better, you thought you saw Mr Murphy’s eyes soften.

He breathed out, long and tired, and reached up to gently wipe the tear away with his thumb. Your breath caught in your throat. His hand was warm. Your chest felt tight. His skin was soft. You stared into his eyes. He left the side of his hand against your face, as if allowing himself to feel the skin. Something in your stomach writhed impatiently. Everything seemed to have changed within a second. Some deep seated urge whispered in your ear to open your mouth and lick his thumb. You shivered.

“Turn around,” his voice was low, rough, and you almost moaned at the sound. You gulped again, but obeyed almost instantly. You heard some shuffling, and then the music started, the slow long notes interspersed with the quick little strums, a beautiful, almost joyful piece of music. Then Mr Murphy was pressed right against your back, and suddenly the music was secondary. His chest, firm, solid, was moulded to your back. You could feel the soft fabric of his black shirt, the puffs of his breaths against the back of your neck. Your entire body shivered. He was warm, like a heater on a middle setting, and if you weren’t so tense, you would melt against him. You could feel his nose against your head as he bent slightly. You could feel his lips graze the shell of your ear as he whispered “relax.” You tried, forcing your muscles to loosen like you would before a performance.

His hands trailed down your arms, his fingertips running down your biceps, then your forearms until you shivered against him again. When he reached your wrists, he hooked his own hands under them and began raising them in time with the music. You turned your head to the right, watched his hand raise your own, your lips parted and breaths heavy. You couldn’t move past the feeling of him pressed to your back.

You almost missed the cue to move, almost, and pulled away from him slowly, carefully, using the measured steps required by the music. You left your right hand in his, just the barest touch of your fingertips against his, the illusion of contact as you moved to the left, feet lifting high. His eyes seemed to pierce through you, and suddenly you enjoyed the feeling in a sick, scary way. You walked forward until you were in line with Mr Murphy, still an arm’s length away before he stepped forward and your arms moved to a waltz position. He settled into the space, gripping your hands firmly in his. He was pressed as close as he could be, closer than your actual partner would be for the dance, and you set your eyes on his face. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you were in your element.

You went through all the steps of the dance like you had been born knowing it. Your bodies were like water as they moved, smooth, graceful. You hadn’t felt this intune to the music in a long time, hadn’t felt this much like a dancer in a long time. You could almost see the crowd in front of you, the blinding lights, the smooth fabric of the dress.

At the final step, Mr Murphy gripped your hand and spun you into him, changing the ending of the dance. You gasped as you leaned back into his chest. His head was bent down, pressing his face into your hair. You were panting, torso moving up and down quickly but trapped in the confines of his arms crossed over you. You leaned your head back a little, pressing the curve of your skull into the curve of his neck as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. The music was fading out, and the only sounds in the room were your mingling breaths, heaving into the air of the room.

His left palm pressed against your stomach, firm and insistent, but you couldn’t be bothered to look down. It seared into your already boiling skin and you closed your eyes. You tuned into the sensation of his hand slowly sliding down, bit by bit, inching down over your stomach then pressing against your pelvis. You gasped as you felt his fingertips brush over the leotard just at the top of your pussy. Your hand moved behind you, gripping his sides, clenching into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against the side of your head, and you didn’t stop him. His hand moved farther down, pressing against the softness atop your core. Gently, his index finger moved to the centre line and began pressing in. You lifted up on your toes a little when you felt the pressure through the fabric, the indent of his finger pressing against your clit. You were hot and wet, he could feel the heat emanating from your core against his hand.

He kept his finger pressed there until you became restless, impatient, pressing your hands a little harder against his ribs. Slowly, keeping the pressure, he moved his finger down until he was pressing against your hole. The warm tendrils of pleasure slowly undulated up your insides. He repeated the motion, up then down and pressing a little harder against your hole.

You breathed out heavily, shakily, and bent your knees to press a little harder into the feeling.

Up, down, press. Up, down, press. He circled your clit through the fabric, pressing against the pulsing little bud. Up, down, press, drag up, drag down, press. You were panting into the air, face contorted, mouth up and head tilted up, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes were screwed shut, hips moving to chase the motions. He didn’t say anything, just breathed heavily against your ear, held you tighter against his body.

You were both standing in the middle of the large studio, bathed in the early evening light. Your hands clenched a little harder against his sides. The warm tendrils were lasting longer, becoming more frenzied, curling up into your stomach and making your hole flutter. His right hand moved up and cupped your breast, gripping firmly and burning the heat of his hand into the flesh.

You were engulfed by him, wrapped up in both his arms as he pressed his fingers harder and quicker against the seam of your core, moving up and down, pressing and releasing. He ran the edge of his thumbnail against the fabric over your nipple and your pelvis shook. You writhed in his arms at the spark it shot to your core, at the electric pulse it created and ultimately pushed you over the precipice. A moan, a high-pitched whine shot from your mouth, echoing in the room. You pressed yourself so hard against him he almost lost his balance, moving one foot back to keep the two of you upright. Your hands hurt from how stiff they became clenched into the fabric of his shirt.

Slowly, he released the pressure against your core. He grazed his finger up until he could press his hand to your stomach again. He left it there and the two of you heaved breaths in sync. You began to flutter your eyes open, still lost in the blood rushing through your head. His right hand came up and gripped your chin, pushing it so you faced to the left where his head had dropped down. He leaned back a little, you tilted forward a smidge, your eyes met. Your lips were still parted, his mirrored. Then he surged forward, pressing his mouth to yours, his nose sliding into the crease between your cheek and nose. He tasted warm and minty. His lips were plush and cushiony soft. He pulled away and you looked into his eyes again.

Neither of you said a word.

Taglist: @4ria790

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f1fnatic · 10 months ago

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SUR LE POINT ⤿ c. leclerc 16

→ ( in which. . . ) you, toto wolff's daughter, are dating semi-rival team driver charles leclerc and toto is trying his best to support your relationship while also being a proud dad.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) smau

→ ( face claim. . . ) taylor hill + pictures from pinterest

→ ( pairing. . . ) charles leclerc x wolff!ballerina!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) cursing, fluff, google translated german and french

→ ( author's note. . . ) woohoo another smau! these are genuinely so fun to make but sooo time consuming. i hope you enjoy! see end for more

→ ( masterlist )

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/n_wolff

📍monte carlo, monaco

liked by susiewolff, lewishamilton, yourbff, charles_leclerc and 953,730 others

y/n_wolff a break between shows 🌞

view 19,572 comments

user7 she is stunning!

user10 mother is mothering

charles_leclerc that dog better not be in the apartment when i get home.

y/n_wolff um about that!

charles_leclerc oh mon dieu

y/n_wolff btw her name is olive!!

susiewolff Meine schöne tochter 💓 (my beautiful daughter)

y/n_wolff woher, glaubst du, habe ich es? (where do you think i got it from?)

mercedesamgf1 baby boss is glowing 🫡🫧 liked by y/n_wolff

yourbsf my legs are dead because of you.

y/n_wolff not my fault you couldn't keep up 😒

user44 need to know where you got that top!

y/n_wolff its actually a dress and i made both of the flower and lemon one myself!

user16 i wonder how toto feels ab this

user19 he was asked during an interview and was hesitant, but supportive !!

charles_leclerc holy 🥴 liked by y/n_wolff

lewishamilton you're in monaco and you dont even stop and say hi? smh 😒

y/n_wolff I AM SORRY BLAME CHARLES

charles_leclerc WHY ARE YOU DRAGGING ME INTO THIS?

y/n_wolff BECAUSE ITS YOUR FAULT?

lewishamilton i was kidding 😀

charles_leclerc has added to their story!

caption: i can't even be mad 😔 y/n_wolff

lewishamilton has added to their story!

caption: apology accepted ✅ y/n_wolff

─ TWITTER ↴

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/n_wolff has reposted a story!

caption: she's in the zone dnd 💆🏻‍♀️🌙 y/n_wolff

y/n_wolff

📍vienna, austria

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, susie_wolff, francisca.cgomes and 987,540 others

y/n_wolff ladies and gentleman... your 2024 white swan!!

it is such an honor to be awarded this role. ever since i was a kid and saw my first performance of swan lake, i fell in love. from that moment, i knew i wanted to be odette. this is truly a dream come true.

i would like to thank the wienerstaatsballet for such a wonderful opportunity and trusting me with such an important role. along with my amazing parents, toto & susie_wolff, and my wonderful boyfriend charles_leclerc. you have all shown me such support and love, i couldn't have done this without any of you.

(p.s. see the link in bio for showings 😉)

view 23,517 comments

user16 she is so unbelievably pretty

mickschumacher woohoo!! you go y/n!

y/n_wolff thank you mickyyy

user8 CONGRATS Y/N! liked by y/n_wolff

charles_leclerc so happy for you mon cynge 🫀 (my swan)

lewishamilton congratulations y/n! i remember watching you as a young girl just starting out, this is such a wonderful achievement, you deserve it more than anyone 🖤

y/n_wolff thank you so much lew 🥹💞

user5 they're so sibling coded 💔

mercedesamgf1 woohoo! congrats baby boss 🥳🙌🏻

y/n_wolff thank u admin 🥰

charles_leclerc when you called me to say you got the part, pride flooded my senses. i know how much this part means to you, etoile. i am so happy for you, je t’aime plus que tout ❤️ (star, i love you more than anything)

y/n_wolff i love you so much, mon coeur 💌

yourbsf the best to do it ❣️🦢 liked by y/n_wolff

yourballetfriend happy for u y/n 🙂

user77 she doesn't seem happy...

user44 i wouldn't blame her 🤷🏾‍♀️

user2 yeah but ballet is competitive it's part of the sport

susie_wolff Ich bin so stolz auf dich, Y/N. Worte können meinen Stolz nicht ausdrücken. Es ist mir eine Ehre, dich meine Tochter nennen zu dürfen (i am so proud of you, y/n. words cannot express my pride. i am honored to call you my daughter)

y/n_wolff hör auf, mama, ich werde weinen, ich liebe dich so sehr (stop mama, i'm going to cry, i love you so much)

francisca.cgomes my fave ballerina 🩰✨ liked by y/n_wolff

scuderiaferrari 🩰🏎️ liked by y/n_wolff

user10 i am so normal about this (i am so insanely happy for her)

─ TWITTER ↴

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

toto_wolff

liked by y/n_wolff, lewishamilton, susie_wolff, charles_leclerc and 2,836,123 others

tagged: y/n_wolff

toto_wolff Congratulations to my wonderful daughter, Y/N. Ich bin so stolz auf dich, meine Blume. Zu sehen, wie du zu dem heranwächst, was du jetzt bist, war so ein Segen. Ich fühle mich geehrt, dein Vater zu sein. Mach weiterhin großartige Dinge, ich liebe dich. (I'm so proud of you, my flower. Seeing you grow into what you are now has been such a blessing. I am honored to be your father. Keep doing great things, I love you.)

view 959,237 comments

user71 THE STREETS WERE RIGHT!!

user50 this is so sweet oh my god

user9 oh to have a dad like toto wolff

y/n_wolff oh papa, ich liebe dich so sehr. Ich hätte mir keinen besseren vater wünschen können, ich danke dem universum jeden Tag dafür, dass ich gesegnet genug bin, dich als meinen vater zu haben. danke, dass du immer für mich da bist 😭❤️ (oh papa, i love you so much. i couldn't have asked for a better father, i thank the universe everyday for being blessed enough to have you as my dad. thank you for always being there for me)

user11 i want what they have 🥲

susie_wolff Unsere wundervolle Tochter (our wonderful daughter)

lewishamilton What a star🌟!

user14 crying in daddy issues

christianhorner Congratulations, Wolff. You have raised a wonderful daughter.

toto_wolff Thank you, Horner.

user88 the passive aggression

user51 the girls are fighting

mercedesamgf1 Boss man making us cry 🫡

charles_leclerc it is such an honor to be dating your daughter, toto

toto_wolff Couldn't have asked for anyone better.

y/n_wolff does this mean that you will let him win, papa?

toto_wolff No.

*comments under this post have been limited*

whoop! another fic done 🥳this was super fun to write, i loved looking for pictures, especially the toto-baby reader one 💔 not a lot of toto content... oh well. i am thinking of making a taglist, so let me know if you would like to be on it! also, hope i made it clear enough that toto does not know how to use instagram, and reader had to help him with making a post/comment. he doesn't know how like comments yet. thank you for reading! as usual, requests and feedback are welcome. make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)

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queen-of-reptiles · 1 year ago

Text

𝚂𝚆𝙰𝙽

description: in which katie mccabe's girlfriend is on her final run of Swan Lake as Odette, and sometimes all you need is a bit of love to help say goodbye.

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katie mccabe x female reader

disclaimer: this is all a work of fiction - she never dated Rue and Caitlin in this :)

warnings: Nothing too bad, a little saucy and slightly sexual comments.

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y/n just posted

liked by katie_mccabe11, leahwilliamsonn and 98, 211

tagged birminghamroyalballett

y/n:

From Birmingham to Salford, to Sunderland to Edinburgh, to Plymouth and now back to Edinburgh to say goodbye.

This last year has been nothing short of breath-taking and a dream. To the cast who have been fantastic, thank you, I have made some lifelong friends.

To my dance teachers and directors, you gave a little nobody the chance to be her dream and I cannot be more grateful to you for that.

And finally, Odette, thank you for your have turned me into the princess a young girl once dreamed of being.

The best of luck to all those continuing, and onto the next journey.

love,

y/n xx

view 1098 comments...

ceasermorales: You are so fantastic! I will miss you very much, my odette! 🤍

y/n: My prince 🤍🖤

username1: I am such a big fan, you have been the best Odette we have ever seen! 😭❤️❤️

Username2: OMG i follow you on TikTok! I love you!

katie_mccabe11: beautiful as always! <3

username3: uhhhhh Katie? What you doing here?

username4: omg is Katie lurking??? 😭

username5: well ig Katie has never publicly dated anyone???

username3: no please Katie cannot be taken!! 😫😫😫

username6: bitch you're delusional, let Katie date people, she's not yours just cause she has never talked about her love life!!!

username7: THE WHOLE ARSENAL TEAM HAVE LIKED THIS!! 😱😱

yaoqinshang: It has been nothing short of an honour understudying you - thank you for all you taught me - I will miss you!

y/n: Knock them dead kiddo - love you xx

rosannaely: Gonna miss you !

y/n: Going to miss ya too xoxo

isabellahoward: gonna blow their minds out there !! xx

username8: omg what is she doing??

y/n: xoxo

see more comments...

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katie_mccabe11 just posted on her story

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Twitter/X

username1: Has anyone seen Katie's story????

username2: WHO IS THIS GIRL ON KATIE'S STORY?

username3: Her name is y/n! This is her @ - @y/n - she is ballet dancer ! She just finished her run as Odette in the Royal Birmingham Ballet.

username4: omg i watched her dance last month she was sooo good!! 🥺

username5: SHE IS SO PRETTY AS WELL

username6: she's quite big on Tiktok also thank you for finding her!

username7: Katie having a potential new gf who is A BALLET DANCER of all things is insane!!!!

username8: She is also a ballroom dancer! my friend took a few masterclasses off of her and said she is like the sweetest thing!

username9: sunshine x stormcloud OMGOMG OMG cute!! 🥺❤️❤️

username10: they could just be friends though?

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katie_mccabe11 just posted

liked by, leahwilliamsonn, arsenalwfc, and 129, 388 others

katie_mccabe11 how does she do this? 😶

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username1: omg omg its her!

username2: IS THIS CONFIRMATION? 🧐🧐

username3: cool katie, cool.

username4: NOOO why would she be with her??

username5: she ain't even that pretty wtf??

leahwilliamsonn: I don't understand how much talent can be in one little body? Like how does she do it?

katie_mccabe11: I think she's a witch honestly

bethmead_: well, we alllll know who she's put a spell on if that's the case...

leahwilliamsonn: 🫣🫣

caitlinfoord: do you think she could teach me?

y/n: I would gladly! 😘

katie_mccabe: no, we need Caitlin to be actually able to play, not broken.

y/n: aw 🙁

cailtinfoord: aw 🙁

jade_mc7: she's so cool - so much cooler than Katie!

laurynmccabe15: agreed

c_mccabe11: agreed

_deanmccabe: agreed

katie_mccabe11: OI little shites 😠

arsenalwfc: we agree too Mccabe clan.

username6: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

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y/n just posted

liked by, katie_mccabe11, caitlinfoord and 298, 356 others

tagged katie_mccabe11, caitlinfoord, leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_ and 4 others

y/n what a fun day :)

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username1: SHE’S HANGING OUT WITH THE ARSENAL GIRLIES??

username2: SHE AND KATIE HAVE TO BE DATING?

username3: the way Katie is looking at her behind the camera 😩

leahwilliamsonn: I still don’t get how you go up on your toes 🤨

caitlinfoord: I never want to learn, trying was enough 😭

bethmead_: you mean face planting was enough …

kyracooneyx: I think i could do ballet full time 😁😁

y/n: deffo, career change in the works 😘

katie_mccabe11: that photo of me ?? 🙄

y/n: don’t i love it !!

username4: 🧐🤨

viviannemeidema: 🩷

y/n: 🩷

isabellahoward: CAN I COME NEXT TIME??

y/n: YES OMG 🖤

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katie_mccabe11 just posted

liked by, y/n, leahwilliamsonn, and 321, 838 others

tagged y/n

katie_mccabe11 happy three years love - lucky to have ya to keep me calm <3

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y/n just posted

liked by arsenalwfc, bethmead_ and 211, 983 others

tagged katie_mccabe11

y/n three fantastic years with you, I cannot explain how much i love you and how grateful I am to have had you in my life.

I’m so glad you knocked me down in that park all those years ago, because it has led to the best thing in my life <3

Too many more my love xxx

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twitter/ X

username1: 3 YEARS??

username2: WE DIDNT KNOW FOR THREE YEARS???

username3: HOW? three entire fucking years

username4: i want more content of them now

username5: HARD LAUNCH KATIE

username6: I’m so confused with this relationship 😭😭

username7: THEY ARE SO CUTE #y/nmccabe

username8: HOW HAS THE ENTIRE ARSENAL CLAN KEPT THIS QUIET

arsenalwfc: IT WAS HARD!

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y/n sighed as her phone blew up yet again, her notifications going insane on the bench next to her as she watched her girlfriend train.

Jonas was shouting football instructions y/n vaguely recognised from the sidelines as the training session drew to a close.

y/n was lucky, Jonas was fine with her in the training sessions having been with Katie so long, the team loving her and the fact a lo of the training staff's children had private dance lessons with y/n.

As the session slowly drew to a close, y/n left her phone blowing up on the bench as she went around and helped with picking up the cones.

She found herself at the training centre more often recently, finding it boring being at home while she waited for the announcement of her new job, the BBC still keeping it quiet.

As y/n bent down and grabbed another cone, two familiar hands placed themselves on her hips and as she stood back up she was pulled back into a chest.

"Alright, twinkle toes?" Leah asked with a mock Irish accent, y/n laughed as Katie's head popped up at the sound of her, the Irish woman rolling her eyes at her teammate who had her arms around her girl.

"Oi, Williamson, hands off!" Katie yelled, leaving Caitlin and Alessia who rolled their eyes as the Irish woman chased down the currently benched blonde captain.

Katie's hands pushed Leah from y/n, the blonde stumbling as Katie wrapped her arms around her lover, pressing a long kiss to her lips as y/n squeaked and turned to face Leah worriedly.

"Katie careful with her!" The dancer chided her girlfriend who rolled her eyes as Leah pouted, leaning into the natural worry the dancer had for her.

"Yeah Katie, careful with me." Leah mocked and the Irish woman scoffed.

"No." Katie chided as y/n tried to move from her arms.

"I wanna help." The dancer whined at her girlfriend. Katie just shrugged and kissed her again, Leah groaning in disgust as she walked off, wanting to go bother someone else.

"Y/n! Your phone's going mental!" Kyra calls from across the pitch, y/n pulls away from the worryingly addictive lips of her girlfriend and looked toward the young girl.

"Yeah, I know darling, just leave it." y/n called, Kyra grinning at her as she followed the rest of her team inside, leaving the two lovers alone on the pitch.

"Social media still going mad over us?" Katie asks her worriedly, her slightly clammy hand coming up to cup her love's cheek as she nodded.

"Yeah, but it will die down eventually." The girl said unbothered.

"You sure you are still okay with us going public?" Katie asks and the dancer giggled.

"Too late to take it back now Katie-bear." She smiled, Katie hushing her use of the nickname which melted her heart.

"Shh, if the girls heard that nickname I would never heard the end of it." Katie tells her and the dancer in her arms laughed, Katie's hands squeezing her waist tighter at the sound which made her heart light.

"Oh yeah, you have to keep up that big bad wolf persona." y/n mocked with a giggle, Katie looking at her offended.

"Excuse me, I am a big bad wolf." Katie defended.

"In your dreams lovie." y/n laughed, but she screeched when Katie threw her over her shoulder, Katie's strong hands holding tight to her thighs as she began to spin in circles.

"Ready to say sorry?" Katie asked, her grin wide at the sound of her lover's giggles.

"Okay, okay I'm sorry." She called, which caused Katie to place her back on her feet, the Irish woman's hands coming to rest on her hips to steady the dizzy girl, who hadn't been able to spot on a place while being spun.

The dancer giggled again and Katie couldn't help but cup her face and pull her in for a kiss, their lips meeting and Katie quickly deepening the kiss.

Katie's arms moved back down to grip the hips of her lover, pulling her closer to her body, y/n's small arms wrapping around Katie's neck, holding tight as she pulled herself up and closer.

Katie's tongue infected her mouth, claiming her as she squeezed her tighter to her body, both of them too caught up in the deep kiss to hear Leah coming to look for them.

"Oh come on!" Leah huffed. "Take a breath!" She yelled at them, Katie rolls her eyes as her hand slips down and squeezes her girlfriend's ass to annoy the blonde who gagged from afar.

y/n pulled away giggling, as Katie squeezed once more before letting her go, the Irish woman grabbing her hand as they walked toward Leah, the blonde holding the dancer's phone in her hand.

"You two are sickening." Leah says, a thump echoing her statement causing Leah to whine, and cling to the dancer who instantly comforted her.

"Katie!"

"What?"

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y/n just posted on her story

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END

hope you enjoyed the added little fic xoxo

hope this is what you wanted @lionesses-lions xxxx

I will probably make a part 2 honestly. :)

Queenie xx

#katiemccabe #katiemccabe imagine #katie mccabe x y/n #katiemccabe x reader #social media woso #woso #woso imagines #woso community #woso soccer #woso x y/n #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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20dollarlolita · 5 months ago

Text

A lot of the stuff that I've learned so far about wearing lolita fashion and using a wheelchair:

I get some questions about this, so here goes:

Tip #1) No one is going to be better capable of knowing what your comfort and safety limits are than you. It's normal and pretty much expected that lolita fashion is going to be less comfortable to wear than cozy pajamas or sweat pants, but you're the person who has to decide if something is too uncomfortable. Also, any rules or guidelines should be ignored if following them would put you in an unsafe situation. You (and your medical care team) are the one who is responsible for your safety.

Tip #2 You are the person who is also the most capable of determining what does and doesn't count as disability accommodation. You're the person who can say, "I have to wear these kinds of shoes for safety reasons, and so I'm going to wear coords with these shoes," and that's the only justification that you need. "I'm doing this because it is a healthy decision," is a full sentence and does not need any additional justification. Disability looks different for everyone and what you need and what someone else needs are going to look different.

I've also found that people who aren't disabled don't actually have a place to say, "this is an okay accommodation for disabled lolitas, but it's not okay if you're not disabled, because that's really fucking shitty and 100% ableist. Everyone's disability is different, and it's not possible for one disabled person to make rules about what's okay for another disabled person to do. It's definitely not possible for one non-disabled person to make rules about what every disabled person is allowed to do. It's not acceptance to make different rules for disabled people; it's acceptance to listen to disabled people and help them in ways that they need and want. Every disabled lolita I know actually cares a lot more about, "how do I wear this fashion with my disability needs taken into account," than any abled person I know, so let's not have another Ballet Flat Spammer incident over here.

Okay, so now that we have the disability disclaimer for disabled and not-yet-disabled alike, we can get into:

Tips and tricks that I've learned about wearing lolita while using a wheelchair!

Part A) Petticoats:

This is the most often asked question I get: how do you fit the petticoat into the wheelchair?

The answer is that I don't. The lolita silhouette relies on the petticoat to get the right shape, when you're standing. It can contribute to getting the right shape when you're siting on a chair that does not have arm rests. If the skirt can drape over the sides of the chair, the petticoat will help poof out the hem, and keep the extravagant look with the hem fullness.

The petticoat does not contribute to the lolita shape if you're in a chair where the skirt cannot hang over the edge. This is probably pretty obvious, but if your beautiful lolita skirt is hanging over the edge of your wheelchair while you're scootin' around, you won't have a beautiful and clean lolita skirt when you get home. When we're talking about disability accommodations and safety, your clothing's safety should not be on the top of the list, but it should be somewhere on the list.

So, what does lolita look like in a wheelchair, when you're actively going out and about, moving and going places?

Pardon my "I'm not ready for you to take my picture yet," face. I don't look like I'm ready to take the picture, because I'm not ready to take the pictures.

This is how I tuck my skirt back to that it's out of the way and I have maximum mobility. My side guards aren't super tall, and later one of them cracked in half, so I have to really shove things under my backside to keep them out of the way.

There's a little bit of strategy that I've learned here, which is that if you can keep your knees covered, it looks much better. It's also usually a slightly more flattering angle to have someone take the photo from a bit above you (not normally a problem since everyone's taller than you in the wheelchair). When your skirt is above your knees and someone's on your level, you start looking a bit like everyone's taking an upskirt shot of you, which isn't really great.

I've gotten pretty used to sitting on a bunch of fabric, but it's not the most comfortable thing in the world, so when we've stopped for a while, i usually un-tuck the skirt.

Lolita dresses have a lot more volume at the waist than some other fashions, and having all of that volume hang out of the top of the skirt doesn't usually look super great. If it's casual, I'll pop the hem of the skirt out and then leave the back tucked behind the side guard.

In terms of doing a big, dramatic drape, some skirt shapes just lend themselves to that a little bit better than others. Skirts with a wider frill at the bottom, tiered skirts, and flared skirts tend to do a little bit better than gathered rectangles. You can make it work, but anything where the hem circumference is bigger than the waist really just shines.

I'm also ambulatory, so I can take pictures outside of my chair. In all the wheelchairs I've been using in these posts, I had somewhere between 0" and -4" of wiggle room in the seat width, so that didn't always showcase my skirts to their best of powers. I managed to get better coord photos by finding somewhere to sit or to stand for a few minutes. In the standing picture up there, I'm holding my skirt out so that it's not as obvious that I don't have the petticoat going on.

So that's the petticoat issue right there: I don't wear one, I just pretend I am.

Some other wheelchair lolita stuff:

Soap doesn't get wheelchair dirt out. Oxiclean doesn't get wheelchair dirt out. You need to get a brush and mechanically scrub it out. Good luck.

Shoes: I have to walk to the back of my car to get my wheelchair out, so I have to wear shoes that I can stand in and lift an awkward and bulky thing with. I like wearing fun platforms and I think they balance out looks pretty well, so I'll put my socks and shoes on after I get the wheelchair out of the car. If I'm wearing tights, I'll wear cheap socks over the tights and take them off before putting my shoes on.

If you're getting a new wheelchair and lolita is of a concern to you: If your wheelchair fitting or your doctor says to get a chair the exact size of your ass, you can still wear lolita fashion with it. There's a little bit more care that has to go into tucking it in, and a little more wrinkles to get out of the back of your skirt when you're home, but it's doable. I have a 17" butt that was in a 14" chair for a lot of these pictures, and it was great. However, if you're considering getting a new wheelchair and one of your concerns is lolita fashion, it can help a LOT to have a tiny bit of wiggle room on the sides. Tall side guards really help.

I don't like arm rests, but when I was borrowing a wheelchair with arm rests, they did really protect my clothes pretty well. If you're getting a wheelchair for yourself, and you know it'll have arm rests, get ones that flip back. This way you can get them out of the way when you want to drape your skirt for photos.

My first wheelchair was sour apple green and I never felt like it held my coords back. Get a wheelchair in the color you love, because it's not going to ruin your coord to have a pink dress and a green chair.

If you're picking between low profile side guards and taller side guards, you probably want taller.

If you really want to wear a petticoat in a wheelchair, you should probably do a late pledge on Puvithel's kickstarter for the accesible petticoat.

Anyway, that's about it for wheelchair lolita stuff on my mind. Just remember that EGL fashion is open to everyone that wants to wear it for the joy of the fashion, and that being disabled in lolita fashion means that you sometimes have to do things differently, but it doesn't mean that you can't do it.

#egl community #wheelchiar lolita #disabled fashion #lolita fashion #long post #20dollarcoordposts

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kiryoutann · 6 months ago

Text

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

SOMETIMES, you'd like to know who your mother was before she became your mother.

You want to know where the acidic and corrosive elements that precede each of her statements come from. Perhaps she acquired it from your father—someone even more poisonous than she was. However, from how it blended with her expression every time she said: “a man’s heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing!” you can't be convinced otherwise that before she met your father, she wasn't like that—that she was once a loving girl before he wrecked her and made her your vengeful mother.

Time heals all wounds, they say. And yet, as far as you know, your mother's is still dripping with blood. Rotten. Maggot infested.

You believed it was exactly what she wanted—so that it wouldn't heal, so that she wouldn't forget how much it burned and constricted her. Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, and she will undoubtedly carry it with her until death. “A man's heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing,” she says, as if she's sure you'll forget what happened to her—to both of you. As if losing the love of her life was hereditary. “Don't you see, sweetheart? We are a paradox of contrasts and twins.”

You're still wondering whether it was a warning or a prayer. Good mothers ensure with all their body and soul that the past does not repeat itself, that their daughters do not embody everything they might become – their mothers. God forbid they dragged themselves across the floor, trembling fingers stretched stiffly clawing at doors that had been long since being slammed shut. However, your mother wasn’t always a good mother, and she often swore over her mother's grave that you would feel the same way she did.

And yet, despite her curses and how much you hate her as much as you hate your deadbeat father, apparently a sense of familiarity is what you're searching for.

Perhaps, that’s what made him catch your eye.

Soft footsteps were created when several pairs of ballerina pointe shoes came down the hallway after the performance ended. Smiles and laughter were among them—a familiar sight; the audience was satisfied with their performance, and they were sure that the ballet director had no more notes for them because, firstly, Marie, the main ballerina in the role of Giselle, had become the center of conversation thanks to her gifted movements, leaving no room for talking about little "building" errors for the other dancers. Second, this season has reached its end, which means they won't be showing "Giselle" again for at least the next few months.

“I saw you sneak chocolates before the show, El.” One ballerina teased.

“They're for energy!” Eloise insisted with a grin.

The ornaments on their heads moved as they both laughed. You flashed a smile but didn't dare enter into the conversation. Satin-clad feet kept moving in the direction of the corps de ballet dressing room door. More laughter and gossip ensued as you passed through the door to the small vanity you shared with another dancer.

"So where are you going after this?" someone at the next table asked, not at you.

You turned around, periodically glancing in the mirror to wipe away the last traces of makeup. "I don't know! Somewhere that can help me relieve stress, obviously. Soph?” Claudine directed her question at another, still not you.

“Sorry, girls, but I have to sit this one out. My mamma has been protesting about me coming home late lately ever since she saw some protests on TV. You two have fun without me.” Sophia declines—that leaves Jules and Claudine alone then. You were ready to return to your own thoughts when Sophia's hazel eyes fixed on you and called your name. "What about you?"

Claudine turned to you, her lips forming a teasing smirk. “Gonna go home and practice some more, no doubt,” she teased. “Live a little for once! Come out with us.”

You focused on untying your pointe shoes while the other two laughed. “No thanks, I'm tired. Think I'll just relax tonight.”

Rather than a teasing smirk, now Claudine's lips resembled a declaration that she was correct once more: "Look, I'm right, aren't I? She's still the same boring girl. No surprise that the best role she can get is dancing as a leaf in the background." It's no longer a myth. It is no longer a myth that other dancers—old and new—only see a robot prodigy, soulless in her single-minded pursuit of perfection. Your movements were full of precision, tempered by years of being under the training of a Russian coach your mother sought out for you. And yet your body is sharpened for nothing more than the purpose of being a vessel. Hushed jokes about you selling your soul to the devil for your skills.

“Aww, not even for one night? Loosen up that tight bun of yours?”

You shoved the last of your things hastily into your bag, not paying attention as someone else's hairbrush and chapstick were forced to sit on top of your toiletry bag—you can always return them tomorrow. The other girls are still laughing while you swing the overstuffed duffel over your shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you say tensely, clutching the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles turn white. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your shoes and hurried out of the dressing room, their taunts echoing in your ears.

London streets glistened wetly as you made your way down the sidewalk. The recent rain left dark spots on the pavement. You pull your coat tighter around you, shivering in the damp night air. As you passed a rowdy pub, loud voices and laughter spilled out onto the street. Warm light and the smell of beer beckoned from within, but you hurried on without glancing in, not wanting to face anyone's eyes.

The entrance to the subway glimmers under the streetlamps. You descend the stairs slowly, your shoes clicking on the concrete steps. The underground platform was nearly empty at this late hour. A lone figure dozed on one of the wooden benches, and a teenage couple whispered together further down the tiles. Your eyes roam over the tiled walls and ads for shows you'd never see—anything to avoid looking at other people and risking a confrontation.

The screech of brakes announces the arrival of your train, followed by beams of lights illuminating the dark tunnel. You boarded the mostly empty carriage and sat down, watching the dark tunnel walls pass by. On the opposite side, your weary reflection in the glass glances back at you.

Soulless.

Soulless ballerina.

TWENTY-THREE YEARS HAVE GONE BY: Thirteen times, you were part of the corps de ballet in Swan Lake. And now, the new director—whom they “imported” directly from somewhere in France to replace the old one—announces that the next season will be Swan Lake. You don't have anything against it—why should you? Thirteen times. Thirteen times in the corps de ballet, and this time will make no difference to you; just another faceless dancer in the flock, never the Swan Queen—they wouldn't risk a soulless ballerina in the spotlight. But wouldn't audiences grow bored of the same classic retold so often?

"Now now, I know you are all tired of this ballet," he said calmly. "But we will be doing something different - a new interpretation, with a fresh artistic vision. This will be Swan Lake as you have never seen it before. Rehearsals will focus on bringing new emotional depth and dimensionality to these iconic roles. Who knows – maybe some new faces will emerge for leading roles. I’m looking forward to seeing what you all can do. Now let us begin."

The familiar piano notes of our warm-up piece drifted through the studio as you took your place at the barre, fingers curling around the worn wood. You close your eyes and focus on steadying your breathing. Even when your muscles hurt from fatigue, you persist through well-known stretching exercises with a focused effort. Your eyelids flutter open, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the new director watching silently at the edge, his sharp eyes taking in each dancer.

“One.. and.. two.. and..”

As you move on to tendus and plies, you let the rhythm of the count wash over you – “.. three.. and.. four.. and..” Your burning thighs, your stretching calves, your flexing toes. "First position...and plié. Second position...and tendu. Third position...and rond de jambe." and the coach's familiar count. Your mind wanders as the dancers continue, thinking about the director's words about seeking new depths. Stealing a glance through the mirror, your eyes returned to the man—his ringed fingers in front of his lips as he pondered.

The music continues to play, swelling with a crescendo. You concentrate on your movements again, lifting your legs high according to standard and extending your lines through fingertips.

You found your eyes drifting to the director's reflection in the mirror more and more. The coach's voice faded into a blur as you studied his intense expression, watching for any sign of interest or approval. But time and again, his gaze passed over you without pause, lingering instead on Claire or Amelia as they executed perfect pirouettes or graceful penche poses. A familiar ache of longing and envy twisted in your stomach. No matter how hard you focused or how flawlessly you hit each position, you remained invisible to him.

Your breaths are shallow, and your head is whirling. Your eyes couldn't stop following him; he was walking around watching dancers who weren't you. He spoke to the coach, then stepped back with his hands linked behind his back. Still not you. As the music nears the end and the dancers have transitioned into combination movements, he still doesn't look at you.

You know the truth: this will be your fourteenth Swan Lake, and you will once again blend into the anonymous corps de ballet. The reflection of a woman in the mirror—your reflection, somber with lifeless eyes and dull hair pulled back in tight bun. The director stated that he wanted to bring forth new depths and emotional aspects to distinguish his Swan Lake from those of other opera houses, therefore it's fitting that he didn't choose you. As an empty ache expands in your chest, you accept the truth: this is your fourteenth Swan Lake, being another swan for the fourteenth time.

The director won’t choose you.

He won't choose you.

He won't choose...

You.

He chose you. You don't know why or how.

An hour later, you find yourself standing in Studio A, facing uncertainly across the hardwood floor. Five of the girls sat at the end of the room while the director watched Claire give her interpretation of Odette in her white swan act. You watch her movements critically, noting the slight wobble in her lower back and how her port de bras could be straighter. Her pirouettes needed more control and spotting—you counted two extra turns that threw off her balance. Then she launched into the black swan's sinister variations. Gone was the white swan, replaced by a vixenish temptress oozing sensuality from her pores. The director made a few thoughtful comments you didn't quite catch before dismissing her.

The director breathed out your name and you were quick on your feet. He crossed his arms over his chest as you took your place in the center. You looked at the girls behind you through the mirror reflection, then at the director, then signaled the pianist to begin.

The famous White Swan melody plays, and you start. Plie, tendu, glissade—your limbs moved through the steps as they had a thousand times, polished, technically perfect. Your movements rely on muscle memory, analyzing your every move through a critical lens. First pose: left arm extended, back straight, neck long. Check. The second one: right leg stretched to the sky, toes pointed to the max. But was your ankle tilted just now? You furrowed your brows while making a mental note to adjust. Entering another glissade, you land on the ball of my foot, keeping your plie low. One.. and.. two. You count the seconds, nitpicking any imperfections.

“Slow down, dear, find your breath.” The director's voice cuts through your thoughts. Find your breath? You were in complete control of your breathing, hitting every mark precisely as the music demanded. What more should you find?

You barreled ahead through the choreography, unwilling to let up on your own rigid standards even as he continued offering feedback. "Loosen your shoulders...savor each moment rather than rushing to the next...let us see you feel the music, not just hear it."

But you are feeling it. You feel every crescendo and decrescendo—you stay in rhythm with the music as the score enters the ritardando section. How could he say you didn't feel the music when you lived and breathed each score? You knew this piece inside and out. From the opening notes, you have remembered not just the choreography but every key change and tempo variation. By the time you sank into your final pose, you were a bundle of nerves.

“Your technique is superb, but so tightly wound,” the director said. “Try to loosen up your lines and embrace the artistry, not just the steps. Now, show me your Black Swan.”

As the dark notes of the Black Swan coda swirl, you pour all your focus into hitting each precise movement with flawless technique. You arch into an arabesque, extending your working leg to the maximum while maintaining perfect turnout. Your spot was fixed, and your balance was unwavering. You continue through the practiced motions, and you fly into your final fouetté combo. As the last note faded, you struck your ending pose.

Slowly, you straightened your body and lifted your gaze to meet his, pressing your sweaty palms together tightly. The director remained silent, hand in front of his mouth, and looked you up and down in a way that made you want to flee. But, you restrained yourself, waiting patiently for his consideration. The pressure in the room was so intense that it made you suffocate.

After what felt like eternity, he gave a small nod – neither acceptance nor rejection. “Thank you, Mademoiselle, that was… illuminating. Please check the cast list tomorrow morning – we will announce our decisions then.”

The compliment is ambiguous, with two implications that you know tend toward the negative. Your anxiety failed to calm down, and all you could muster was a hushed thank you before you left the studio in a daze, questions still swirling around unanswered like always.

Now here you are, unfortunate enough to be under the wailing sky of London with minimal cover from a shuttered cafe. The dense fog and wind impede your eyesight, making it difficult to see the towering structures. On the left side, several cafes and pubs radiate their orange lights from within, beckoning anyone in need of somewhere to go for a quick drink or two. Anyone but you, apparently.

The city streets felt hauntingly deserted through the deluge of falling water. Shivering even in your coat and tights, you knelt down and tightened your scarf. Puddles of water begin to form in the potholes, and you desperately hope that the rain will stop soon; you still have a long ride home on the subway to prepare for tomorrow.

Just then, a splash of heavy footsteps caught your attention.

Through the sheets of rainfall, you glimpsed a tall figure hurrying down the sidewalk, taking in what little details you could discern. His leather jacket and boots, yet the way he hunched his broad shoulders against the storm conveyed a certain roughness. You squinted to make out his face, only to find it covered by a mask and a hood pulled too low. It's unsettling, but disturbingly, it makes you enthusiastically guess what lies beneath it—was he handsome or scarred? Young or weathered by experience? It intrigued you so much that you didn't realize he was only three steps away from you.

As the stranger approaches, you take more details that should have set off alarms. His all-black leather jacket may have been fine material, but it was worn and faded. And although broad-shouldered, his build spoke more of hardened muscle than gentility. Everything about him screams danger. When he drew up beside you, you intended to duck past and continue on your way.

But something held you rooted to the spot.

Now, two strangers stood side by side, between them were raindrops dragged cruelly by the cold wind. His towering figure was as still as a statue; for a man his size, he was skilled enough to be almost invisible, almost. The scent of him washed over you then—alcohol, but not the refined wines and spirits of high society. This was something rougher, meant to burn away thought rather than enhance it. Beneath that, cigarette smoke and a musky men’s cologne, attempting to cover something.

The man is still silent, and you should've taken this as your second chance to leave. There are only two possibilities for a man like him: a perverted stalker or a serial killer—most likely the latter, because for what reason would he decide to take shelter under the awning of a dark bankrupt cafe with a woman when the surrounding pubs are still serving happy hour?

While the stranger settles against the wall, you notice his large hand drift casually into his pants pocket. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in panic wondering what weapon he might pull out – a knife, or worse. All instincts screamed to run away, but your feet remained rooted to the ground, frozen.

“Nasty night.”

Your body comes to a complete stop. The air is forgotten, and you wonder if you really heard him speak just now or if you were just hallucinating. He has a roughness to his voice, gravels, and a low range with a hint of timbre muffled by his dark mask. Unknowingly turning toward him, you stared at his side profile until he met your gaze, and you swiftly looked straight forward again.

“Uh, y-yes, quite a storm,” You stuttered in reply, cursing your trembling voice. Gripping your duffel bag tighter, you tried not to say anything that might offend him.

Minutes pass, the rain as the only noise. Finally, he spoke again, "Subway, yeah?" Between the sound of the rain and his muffled ones, you tried hard to make out what he was saying. After fully understanding it, you give it a nod.

“Yes, the subway. Though it may be closed by now with the weather.”

The man pulled out a pack of cigarettes. From the corner of your eye, you knew he was taking off his mask. Your heart beats fast as you resist the urge to turn your head, settling to look at the dark street in front of you instead. Smoke wafts between you both, creating faint, short-lived tendrils in the air.

The two of you were in silence. You wanted to talk to him again but didn't know what there was to say; it could be that he just wants to smoke with a company, a quiet company. He let out a puff of fresh cigarette smoke, and you inhaled it all. Toxins are bad for the skin and lungs, and yet you're better off suffocating than giving the impression that you're disturbed.

“Subway's closed, like you said. No sense waiting in the wet.” He took the last drag and threw the cigarette butt into the gutter. “Come on then. Pub's the best place for now.” His voice muffled again – he had put his mask back on.

You hesitated at his offer, biting your lip as you weighed the options rapidly in your mind. On one hand, the rain shows no signs of letting up, and this awning provides only a little protection at best. But to follow a strange man through the streets, alone, allowing him to take you to a spot where inebriation may be present—where his worst pals might be waiting. Girls your age being spiked is something you hear about a lot.

Shaking your head, you manage a small smile. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I'll be right here. Best not to trouble you further on such a night.”

He tilts his head, his eyes peering from the mask's shadows as if reading your unspoken fears. Does he see the consideration behind your polite refusal—how now you are a vulnerable woman, and this relative anonymity without further conversation is a safe option, despite the discomfort? Within his dark eyes, there was a stirring that you didn't understand. Pity? Or mockery? Under his towering height and massive body, you were nothing but a frightened rabbit.

Gusts of wind drive cold droplets under the awning. You suppressed a shiver, hugging yourself tighter. “Really, I'll be fine. The rain can't last forever." A forced laugh follows your words.

You seize the chance to stare back at him. It was impossible for you to know what calculations were going through his mind, or what emotion lay beneath that mask. It's pretty unfair, you think, that he can hide under a hood that nearly makes him invisible in the dark of night while he can see all of you—a greasy-haired woman hoping the man in front of her will respect her dumb decision. It's the least he can do.

Just when you think this staring game would go on for another minute, he turns his gaze. “Suit yourself, love.” His voice comes out gruff, and your heart drops thinking you've let him down (but, for what?). "But you'll catch your death waiting in the rain."

A pang of guilt crashes into you as he turns his shoe the other way. For safety's sake, you rejected him, thinking you're being sensible; but there's an authoritative voice in the back of your mind telling you, "He's the first nice guy in a long time, and look what you gave in exchange for his kind offer." Self-doubt is playing in your heart. His back was already turning, boots squelching away into the rain.

“Wait!” You called after him, hating how small and frightened you sounded. He paused and searched back, eyes questioning through the mask. Steeling your nerves, you step into the downpour. “I'm coming with you.”

If this guy thinks you're an indecisive woman who can't even commit to a decision for more than five seconds, thank goodness he didn't say anything other than give you another stare. He led the way as he went, holding the door of one of the busy London pubs. More liquor and tobacco smells. You both entered, bringing a burst of damp wind with you. The warmth and noise within are a shock after the storm outside.

He steers you towards the fireplace, shrugging out of his soaked jacket. “Get yourself by the hearth,” he said, nodding to an empty chair. “Dry off.”

You did as he said gratefully, holding your hands out to the flames. The colors returned to your cheeks; fear slowly evaporated away.

“What'll you have, love?” He asked, and you frowned before understanding. Oh, drinks.

“Something light,” is all you say, eyes lowered again. The man gave a nod and went to give the bartender the order.

He returned not long after, setting the drinks down and taking the chair opposite to yours, stretching out his long legs toward the fire. You took the gin with a murmured “thank you.” He settled with his own—whiskey in a glass, neat. You glanced at the remains of rainwater dripping heavily from his clothes in a growing puddle at his boots. The drinks were enjoyed in companionable silence, still trying to find calm after the storm's fury.

The fire crackles merrily as you sit. Finding your voice, you clear your throat gently.

“Thank you, for…” Your fingers tapped nervously on the glass. “Well, for everything, I suppose.”

His eyes lifted from the flames to meet yours, and you offered a small smile. “I’m (Y/N).”

As the name slips out, you berate yourself. How stupid, giving up something as personal as your name! This man was still a stranger, no matter his kindness so far. For all you know, bad intentions could be lurking behind that calm gaze even now. But in the cozy glow of the fire, your sense of awareness wavered, lulled to sleep in a false sense of security.

He merely nodded, moving his hand to the mask hook over his ear without expressing much emotion. Your eyes widened, and your heart was pounding. The breath in your lungs stilled in anticipation as the fabric peeled slowly back, inch by inch. Is he about to...?

The man removed his mask, appearing at ease and lacking in secrecy. He looks at you, and you quickly look aside, pretending to offer him a little privacy. You wait for him to finish, to put it on again, but he never does. Is it okay to look-

Deciding to no longer be the uneasy one (since the guy looks completely unconcerned as he takes a long sip of his drink), you follow suit and allow the liquid to cascade down your throat. There's a slight thump as your glass hits the aged wood. Your curiosity is piqued even more by the fact that he hasn't made any moves to wear it again. Slowly, you raised your gaze, meeting that unveiled gaze – a secret not meant for your eyes.

Blonde eyelashes – pretty. Faint shadows hung under the eyes. Light stubble. Scars dotted his jaw, thin white slashes earned from unknown origins. His nose sat slightly off-center, clearly broken more than once in past altercations—bar fights, perhaps? Though something about the precise thinness of the lines didn't seem right for brawling. Regardless of which one, he is clearly no stranger to violence, and being near him is enough for someone to sense the danger he was capable of.

But, there is something about that powerful jawline, the intensity found only in his hooded eyes, spokes of steel and intricate details that defy explanation. Fire in his eyes. Even after taking off the mask and grasping it between his lengthy fingers—just when you think all the curtains have been exposed—he still remains a mystery.

(And you're just another gullible woman who believes she knows how to solve the puzzle.)

You wait; surely he will offer his own name in return now that you've bared yours. But seconds ticked by in the silence, and still he said nothing.

A flush crept up your neck at the realization that he had no intention of reciprocating. Did you misread this entire meeting? Why did he bring you here if not to talk? You observe his stony profile, wishing you could see past him. Did he intend to remain a mystery—an enigma full of intrigue? Or is it actually a test to see how long your curiosity can last?

Your fingers fidget with the condensation on your glass. Under this new tension, the easy silence fell away. Seeking an escape from the awkwardness, you looked for something, anything. Your gaze landed on a group of regulars in the corner, laughing boisterously.

“Do you, um, come here often?” You ask lamely, cursing your inability to make small talk. But there was an amused glint in his eyes that put you back at ease.

“Aye, I'm 'ere often enough,” he replied, taking another sip. You assume he finds humor in your discomfort, rather than mocking it. The knot in your shoulders loosened, and you relaxed into a smile again.

For good or ill, this man stirred something deep inside you—and you're desperate to scavenge for light, safe conversation topics to continue the conversation.

“So, um, what kind of work do you—” You catch yourself, cheeks warming. Too personal to ask a stranger met by chance. You let out a dry laugh. “Sorry, I don't mean to pry. It’s just… making conversation.”

At the small thud of his glass meeting the scarred wood of the table, your eyes darted up in surprise. Already empty—have you been so lost in thought that you missed him finishing? A swell of questions rose inside you as you watched his movements for a clue. Would he signal the bartender for a refill, extending your time together? Or was this the end—the strange encounter came to a close because you somehow offended him for prying too much?

“Military.”

Unexpectedly, he gave a single-word reply. Military—that explains a lot, from his physique and bearing to the scars and the lingering scents that cling to his coat.

"Oh!" was all you could think of as a response. More questions swim to the surface, demanding to be asked, but you quash them, not wanting to risk being presumptuous a second time.

Feeling indebted, you then offer, "I do ballet, with the Metropolitan Opera." The words slip out before you can check them, and inwardly you curse yourself once again.

Great. Name, job, and workplace. Why don't you give him your address next?

You bit your lip. Risking a glance up, you hope he won't take your openness as foolishness. His quiet acceptance has so far calmed your nerves, and now you find yourself craving that ease again.

“Must be rewarding,” is all he offers—you grow accustomed to his terse responses. Plain, perhaps even half-hearted, but you smile as though he had read you a lovely poetry full of flattery.

“Yeah, it's really rewarding to dance and like, share that joy with others.”

Liar. What can a soulless ballerina have to share? So far, frustration is what you inflict on your director, and criticism is secretly a “reward” for your fellow dancers. You understand perfectly well, from the top of your head to the balls of your toes, that there is no joy that you can share. However, this man didn't know. He doesn't know who or how you are. Since the very beginning, you have spoken truth to him; allow this one deception to pass.

Your fingertips made a gentle squeak as they rubbed across the condensation on your glass. “If I may ask… what inspired you to serve?”

For a moment, he was quiet, considering with eyes turned to the flames.

"It was a calling, I suppose," came the gruff reply. “The world had its darkness even then. Felt a duty to stand against it.”

After providing an answer, the two of you returned to silence. You gazed thoughtfully into the flames, thinking of how you might spark another conversation that didn't rely solely on question and answer. The last thing you want is for him to view you as overbearing or pushy.

“What drew you to ballet, then?”

It was unexpected for him to pose a question, and you were taken aback when he did. Your lips curved into a smile as you thought about the answer, and your mother's role in starting it all.

"Well, I think it started because Mom thought ballet was 'cute'." A tone of amusement permeates your voice. “She had no idea about the art or discipline—she just wanted to see her little girl swirl and spin in frilly costumes. But I had fun dancing, dressing up, and listening to the music...”

Somewhere in your head, your mother's voice echoes again. Bitter and resentful, encased in an everlasting nightmare. Your mother stood in the audience, and you ran towards her, tutu skirt fluttering gently. She wiped her eyes and knelt down in front of you, whispering, "You were marvelous, sweetheart," as she drew you in. She smiles, but it stops short of her eyes. Then a string of apologies, saying that he’s gone—that she knew he had promised you to be here, but he's gone. Dad is gone. And he'll never see what you can do.

“My first real performance, in elementary school… I was so proud when the curtain fell.” You continue, remembering another face that has long been a ghost in the past.

("Why did you let that man walk away?")

You clear your throat softly. “After that, it just felt right, you know? Like I'd found where I belong.”

Liar.

Steering away from the bitter past, you change the direction of the conversation again. “Are you from around here?” It's a simple question, maybe even stupid. His accent alone makes it plain he grew up in this land, but, no matter how long you've lived in England, you have a small grasp of regional dialects within the country.

“I mean, I know you're obviously from here—your accent kind of gives it away.” You waved. “I just meant—is this area home for you? Or are you from elsewhere originally?”

The barest upturn of his lips catches your eye. Was that a smile? On this gruff, grumpy stranger who has only revealed so little so far? Your heart beats at the sight, rare as a summer snowflake. He reached into his pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it between his dry lips. The lighter ignited, and white smoke was blown out.

“Manchester, originally,” he said, intonation hanging. He took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling slowly and adding, “A different world now. You?”

“I've been in the city for years now, but I'm from San Francisco.” You said. “When the chance came up to transfer here from my old opera house back home, I leapt at it. Felt it was time for a fresh start, to spread my wings and live on my own. And maybe get out from under my mom's feet—love her to bits, but she can be a bit much sometimes.”

From your own remarks, you can't help but question if mothers are as harsh on their sons or if this is solely reserved for daughters. Girls are taught to keep close to home and their hearts, while boys are free to roam and explore. Is it any wonder, then, that spreading your wings felt like escaping? You wanted to ask him but ended up lacing your tongue tightly.

The fire's burned low, just embers burning gently in the fireplace. Time passed unnoticed as the two of you sat chatting quietly. But outside, the rain began to subside until it was a fine patter on the roof.

“Storm’s passed, seems.”

As he speaks, you glance up to find his guarded mask has fallen once more into place. The easy openness that had soothed tired nerves now closed again – strangely making you bereft. A feeling of melancholy welled up in your chest at the thought of parting, of kissing away the intimate bubble the two of you had crafted and going back out there into the cold reality where you would be strangers again. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you searched for words.

“I suppose you're right… it has eased off some.” Your voice came out small and awkward to your own ears. Licking your dry lips, you added, “thank you, for your company. It was…nice, not to feel alone.”

He stood up, stretching his tall frame. After this, the spell of the evening will evaporate, and everything will return to the reality of loneliness once again.

“C'mon then, let's get you home,” he said gruffly, offering a hand to help you up. His strong hand envelops your smaller one—rough yet tender, sending warmth through your limbs that have little to do with the fire now dying.

Pushing through the heavy doors, the night air is a contrast to the warmth of the pub. Thick fog covered the streets, rain-slick stones glistening under the street lights. He waved at the first cab that passed—and you prayed it wouldn't stop so you could buy a little more time with him.

It stopped. The night was set to end.

He holds it while you slip inside. Through the open window, your eyes met his; he crouched beside the window, broad shoulders hunched. He's talking to the cab driver, but you can't hear it—not when your heart flutters madly in your breast over a single question. The ache of still not knowing his name. It seems wrong, unfair, that he knows you so well, yet you know nothing of him in return.

The cab lurches into motion, snapping the spell. Panic rises in your throat; you can't let him disappear into the night—to the back of your head like another passerby.

“Wait—please! I don't know your name."

Before you can stop yourself, the words tumble out in a desperate rush.

The second ticks by as you wait. He finds you foolish, for sure—just another desperate, nosy girl who wants to play detective the second she sees a puzzle. The clinginess in your request must have given the impression that you were a fool in love—gullible and name-obsessed.

Something shifts in his dark eyes, and you hope it's a wall crumbling away. Then, in his low rumble – “Simon.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, almost parting your lips in question before—

“Name's Simon,” he repeats.

(And the sun breaks through storm clouds.)

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

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hippolotamus · 6 months ago

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“I see you” tag game

Thanks for the tags @spotsandsocks for this lovely tag game brought to us by Angsty Sunshine Personified @steadfastsaturnsrings

Rules: list at least one (ideally a wip, fic idea but a finished fic will work too if you can’t think of a wip or fic idea) that someone has written/come up with that you are obsessed with. Tag the writer and link the work (if applicable) and give a sentence (or more :) ) about what you love about the work/idea!

Disclaimer: The purpose of this is to not make writers stressed out or feel obligated to finish their WIPs but rather show them that we see them and we love them and their writing so much that we still think about their works even if they may have not published in awhile. ❤️

Strap in, kids (I'm positive I'm missing some (and I'm so sorry if yours is one of them) but...)

three taps for the Lombardi (aka NFL Buck) by @wildlife4life

drag queen!eddie from @giddyupbuck

Electrostatic Attraction from my beloved @shortsighted-owl

non-verbal Buck, mental health helpline and cockwarming fic from @loveyouanyway

cupid!Buck from @tizniz

vampire!Buck prequel from @saybiwithme

fratboy au and soulmates au from my wife @bidisasterevankinard

indie band!Patrick from @stereopticons

forever obsessed with basement ghost!patrick by @filet-o-feelings

all the psych buddie rewrites from @kitteneddiediaz

fantasy au from @daffi-990 also incredibly obsessed with stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong

buddietommy ballet au, doctor au, sleepy mornings, frostpunk au from @diazsdimples

buddie couples therapy from @your-catfish-friend

obsessed with this can't be love by @prettyboybuckley

alright, cowboy, go get 'em by @thewolvesof1998

sci fi of doom wip from @thekristen999

@jesuisici33... oh, honey, where do I begin? you have my heart, incubus!eddie, bachelorette au, demon!Buck/angel!Eddie, so on and so forth

buddie pirate au from @bi-buckrights

broke my own heart from the keepers of my fragile hippo heart @elvensorceress and @eddiebabygirldiaz

nesting!Eddie and a foundation of trust and love by @lemonzestywrites

Knives To The Chest (And Into My Heart) by @watchyourbuck

Buddie NHL au from @exhuastedpigeon

HOA!Eddie from @sunshinediaz

deaf!buck au from @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy (I don't honestly know if that's still the correct url or if that author is doing any writing anymore but goddamn do I miss that wip)

If you see this and wanna play, consider this your tag 💖

#i see you tag game #tag game #hippo gets tagged #i was going to leave a 'why i like it' blurb for all of them #until i realized we'd be here a while #but if you ask me i will let you know what i adore about the ones i listed #fandom positivity

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kikyan · 2 years ago

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Yandere Pomefiore Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark Content up ahead!! Yandere content specifically!! Themes will include but not be limited to, yandere, possessiveness, violence towards reader or characters, manipulation, mentions of stalking, obsession, etc. (I think that should be it but unless I'm missing something please do let me know!!) Please proceed with caution!!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

Banner made by @herestrish please don't steal my bestie worked hard on it and I love them so much :((

Vil Schoenheit

Beautiful Vil indeed, Vil is one of the characters who I feel relate to the most. His desire to be the fairest is rooted in the ideology that he has to work twice as hard for the praise that comes at no cost for Niege. Vil’s S/O would be someone who can see past that, maybe someone who can see the ‘ugliest’ parts of him but still want to be with him. Someone that can accept Vil for himself. With that said, he’s a manipulative, possessive, and overprotective yandere.

It needs to be said that Vil is probably the most reliable housewarden here. I feel like he’s the type you should go to for advice because he tells it to you straight. He doesn’t sweeten his tone or downplay the situation to spare your feelings, he’s direct. The best way I can describe Vil and Neige is that Neige is cute, and Vil is hot. Niege is the cutesy persona, the kind and charismatic main character that you can’t help but root for in every situation. He’s literally the one who beats the villain with the power of friendship. Vil is a sophisticated and respected individual, the one who worked hard to get what they have, because of this. . .he’s often made to play the role of a villain. The one who is blinded by greed and stops at nothing to prevent the MC from getting what they want. That’s the role he plays. His S/O would be someone who sees past that, long story short someone who can respect and love Vil for himself rather than some silly persona he’s been pushed to play. Someone who can see Vil in the worst light but accepts him. You see the ugly but rather than shy away from it you learn to embrace it.

I don’t want to say that he’s manipulative to the extent that Jamil might be, but he’s good with words. Pomefiore is a dorm that radiates beauty, not just physical appearance but how one carries themselves. This makes sense when in book 5 he talks to the others about skincare and even reminds Epel that ballet isn’t exactly a gendered sport. Beauty is how someone carries themselves, what they reveal when facing a tough situation, and how they view themselves and others, that’s beauty. If his S/O ever had a doubt, they would seek Vil’s opinion first. Of course, he knows more and his opinion is highly valued. His manipulation isn’t too complex but it follows the ideology that if a stranger gave an unsolicited opinion you won’t pay too much attention. Still, if a trusted friend gave it, you’d be inclined to trust them more. Under his guidance, Vil will slowly alter your mindset as well as your opinions of others. He’s Vil, he has a keen eye for these things after all. Vil says things straightforwardly so you know he’s being honest, that’s gotta count for something! So while it’s not a big thing at the moment, his words start to weave themselves into your conscious decisions. He’s not someone you would doubt, much less disobey.

He’s quite possessive. In the way Jamil doesn’t want to give his S/O up, he can’t stand the idea of someone taking you away from him! Vil is quite infatuated with you, you see. The one thing he wants is standing right in front of him, he’s not letting his opportunity go by. He’ll start by conviving you to spend time with him. You’re failing your potions class? Vil can offer to help but it won’t come for free! The occasional fashion advice or skin care opinion, always offering to teach you the ropes and how to accessorize. Granted if you don’t ask for it nor actively seek it, he’ll never push his opinions onto you. If you do however ask for his advice, he’ll make a tight schedule that takes up your time and includes himself in the mix. Would he isolate you from others? No, but he would drop some side comments that might make you reconsider who you should be hanging around with. The choice is yours but he’s quite persuasive. He would never let Neige know of you, he can’t risk you becoming a fan or choosing Niege over himself. He just can’t let that happen. This ties in with his over-protectiveness, he’s by no means a pushover. With fame comes risk and Vil is more than qualified and prepared to ensure your safety. In the event that he does go public with your relationship (which he will), some crazed fan might send something to you!

Overall, there are no traits that I can use to define how dangerous Vil can be as a yandere. Vil would probably force you to go through some rigorous training, anything that proves your loyalty to him. I think it’s what he values the most. Loyalty to him. Once you prove you can be trusted, Vil might start to expose bits and pieces of himself to you but don’t get your hopes up. Does Vil want to be worshiped? Yes, but he wants you to love him. It has to be you, nobody else can suffice. Nobody else sees Vil the way you see him and that’s what he wants. He wants your eyes to be on him, He’s in the spotlight and you’re the only member of the audience that he yearns for. Don’t let your gaze wander, keep your eyes focused on him. While it’s your attention and affection that he yearns for, he by no means will resort to groveling. He has too much pride (though maybe in extreme feelings and conditions, he may but unlikely at the moment) and I feel like it contradicts his ideology of working to earn. If it’s your affection he wants he’ll work hard and strive to gain. Do I think he may have a moment where he slips up? Yes, like in book 5, that wasn’t supposed to happen but it did. He had the idea of beating Niege at a dance competition but towards the end almost took his ass out. I feel like it starts to be futile, normal means of gaining your affection aren’t working, or keeping your love he may stoop down to using potions. Designed as ‘sharing’ snacks and drinks, he may slip in a potion that will make you agree or idolize Vil to a certain extent. He by no means will buy your love or use cheap tactics to earn it, but he may fall into a fear that you may leave him resulting in a potion to keep your love.

Also, I realized that with these headcanons I don’t exactly highlight something that makes them unique, but I will start doing that with the remaining characters! Vil, what makes him unique is that he’s as suffocating as the poisons he makes. He’ll slowly start making his way into your life and cloud your senses. Anything and everything you do is for Vil. The air you breathe is for Vil. He demands absolute loyalty (as I’ve repeated countless times but I can’t organize for shit) and that loyalty is slowly woven into your routine. You use his skin care, you style your clothes a certain way because Vil told you. You style and accessorize yourself according to his recommendations because Vil is right. You act the way Vil would appreciate (in your eyes because I'm a huge believer they will love you for being you), and you are dedicated to him. The most unique thing about this is that it’s all according to Vil’s design. He managed to flip the table and make YOU seek him out rather than him doing all the hard work.

These headcanons probably don’t do him justice but on the scale, he’d be an 8/10. It’s Vil, he would never show such unsightly behavior and I think that is where people would fall for it. If anything I think pomefiore is a dorm that can show multiple faces. They hold themselves to such a standard that at first glance, they could never do that! He excels at potions and poisons so he is quite a danger to others and his S/O. His manipulation is hidden under the guise that Vil is only helping you out. It’s Vil, sure some of the things he says might sound rude but he’s just being honest. His reputation does help him conceal his true behavior. His love is suffocating and overpowering. Surely you can learn to accept this ugly Vil as you would the beautiful Vil. Not to mention, he’s clouding your mind to the point all you can think about is him (managed to save these headcanons because I thought the song Aishite X3 (I’m typing all that out) and how I personally feel Vil would relate to it on some form.

After editing these headcanons I came to the horrifying truth that this sounds like Nate and Cassie’s relationship in euphoria. . . shit. Oh! Before I forget, on the rope-chain-saw scale I think he would be chain. He isn’t one to restrict you physically, but he would restrict with you magic and potions. As I mentioned before, he’d try to manipulate you to turn the tables around, it would be you seeking him rather than him seeking you which would put him on the rope scale. Since he has a possibility of using magic to keep you obedient (rather than make you because he still wants you to make that choice) he would be placed on the chain, you can win back freedom (basically he has no use for the potions at this point) as long as you continue to prove your devotion to him! Okay, this time FOR SURE I’m done!

Rook Hunt

This man scares me, he’s horrifying. In canon, he’s probably just a bit off-putting and he’ll be nice to you but as a yandere? That being said, Rook is manipulative, possessive, obsessive, and sadistic. Let’s get into it!

The biggest thing with Rook is that we need to see his reference material, he’s a hunter. That predator and prey dynamic is quite strong as we’ve seen in the beanfest event, he likes the thrill. Normally I’d say to run but he enjoys the thrill of that so start walking slowly. Let’s talk about his S/O, I try not to put too many traits because I truly like to believe that they prefer the personality of their S/O as opposed to anything specific but he’d be interested in his S/O. Their way of thinking and the way they carry themselves. We know he loves beauty and has no problem voicing his admiration, but when it comes to his S/O, his comments increase a lot. He loves the way you dress, the way you carry yourself, the way you write your name, and the way you speak, if you have any anxious ticks they don’t go unnoticed and he loves them as well. He’s very observant of any and all things you do, it’s scary. He’s like Kalim who sees the beauty and the good things, he just communicates them differently. To be honest, right now, Rook would make you love things about yourself that you hate or never knew about. As a yandere, that doesn’t change but his love increases by a lot. Tying this in with his obsessive trait, he knows everything. When you leave class with Grim, his eyes are on you. When you take a test and scratch your head, look confused (stuff you do basically), etc, he’s watching. He takes in any and all information possible. Things that are routine to you, he analyzes and takes great interest. Like a hunter studies his prey, he studies you just as well. Maybe at first, it was just something he does, but then it started to become extreme. If you take walks around Ramshackle and you feel eyes on you, it might be him. He doesn’t do anything other than stalk but that doesn’t make it any better. His eyes are ALWAYS on you. Taking in EVERYTHING. He’s extremely obsessive if you couldn’t tell.

Manipulative and this is also where I want to include his ‘unique’ trait. He will NEVER trust you. I’m like jumping a couple of steps but this will all make sense, promise. His manipulation isn’t like the others where they isolate you and try to make it seem like you only have them. It also isn’t something based on authority where they say, “I’m this so you should trust me” or where they use their fame to get you to comply (AKA blackmail). No, Rook takes on a different route. He’s a hunter and he’s always setting up bait but his reasoning isn’t always to prove your loyalty and love, it’s because he finds it fun. Like the Leech twins, you’ll have to be constantly on edge with him. It’s all about observing you. If you read yandere fanfiction, I’m sure you’ve seen prompts that involve the yandere placing the darling (you) in a situation where they can escape, but it’s secretly a test. With Rook, you’ll NEVER know it’s a test. You could stay put for three hours and Rook comes back saying he was busy. You realize then, you could have gotten help but you didn’t. Sometimes, he’ll leave you for 15 minutes and the moment you turn around to run, he’s there. You’ll either have to try to escape at every opportunity or stay put at every opportunity. He could send you on an errand, running papers to a teacher. Out of the fear that he’s watching even though logically he wouldn’t be in the office, you don’t say anything. You realize too late that it was a perfect opportunity to flee from him. This ties in with his unique trait.

He will NEVER trust you. In fanfiction when the darling has been ‘loyal’ (basically playing into their hands waiting to get the upper hand and flee) for some time ranging from a couple of months to years and the yandere assumes that they’ve finally given in. Yeah no, that’s not happening with Rook. You could be together for 10+ years and with 8 children, but he’ll NEVER assume you’ve given in. He’ll play the role and display signs that make it seem that he has but rest assured he hasn’t. He can be the perfect husband, and doting father, and just be a textbook family. You think you’ve planned well, surely after all these years he would believe your charade but no, Rook still keeps an eye on you. Not to mention, he has an army of 8 kids. He probably taught them to recognize signs and to snitch on you. Imagine you’re planning on leaving him but taking the kids and you tell them the plan but all these fuckers turned on you. Yeah, trust is something that comes hard with Rook (if you ever gain it), but this also ties in with the rope-chain-saw scale. He’d be rope. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt and I don’t see him as someone who tires of it. He’ll have some restrictions but overall, he wants you to be as free as possible. You won’t have any extreme restrictions or anything holding you back other than your fear of him. Funny enough, this brings me to my second point, he’s sadistic.

He doesn’t mean to harm you physically, but mentally he loves it. Physically, maybe but it’s not that common. He’ll find your scared expression beautiful and exciting, it shows how much you’re afraid of him. Of course, he wants your love and honestly, in a non-yandere setting, he’d be the perfect boyfriend. As a yandere, he THRIVES off the idea that he’s the biggest threat in your eyes. It’s the thrill of the hunt that makes that catch so much sweeter. Despite all the opportunities of escape (test or not), you don’t take them because of that fear. Any and all bait (escape or not because it’s mostly used to track your reactions) is meant to cause mental anguish. If you do bite he may inflict some physical pain but it’s not something that happens often. In the commissioned fic I wrote, you ran and Rook used an arrow to stop you. Yeah, he’ll do that again. He’ll treat you very well after (medical sense) but he’s not above harming you temporarily. I didn’t put him on the scale as saw, because he doesn’t want to take away your ability to run. Back to the original point, the mental anguish he causes is so much worse. It’s the way he will pamper you, loves you, gives you gifts, and speaks sweet words that make you melt away in a blissful state. You seem to forget that his eyes are closed on to you, he sets up traps that you may or may not recognize until after he appears to give you praise or punishment based on the result. You can’t read him and you can’t predict his intention so you live in fear. That’s what sadistic Rook loves, he’s the cause of your pain and fear.

Wrapping these headcanons, Rook gets an 11/10 on the yandere scale. I wanted to say 10/10 because he’s a danger but because he’ll never trust you he gets an 11/10. Escape really isn’t an option (unless you want to end it all but even then your snitch children might step in). He’s possessive like most, if not ALL yanderes. You’re his, trust me others will regret messing with you. I don’t think Rook would isolate you so he’s not possessive in that sense (like some of the yanderes) but he still wants you to be his and his alone. I don’t think he’d brand you (this brings up a tiny point how despite what you think he sees you as an equal and not as a pet because the mental anguish he causes is what leads you to make that dynamic) but if pushed to the point, he may and find beauty in something of his on your skin. He’s dangerous because he causes an INSANE amount of mental anguish (cater levels) but he can also be physical if need be. He’s always watching and his love is like an anchor, constantly weighing you down and making it hard to breathe. All eyes on you as he sees everything and anything, not to mention his unique magic? Yeah no, escape has and will never be an option. Honestly, I feel like maybe (since this isn’t canon and a yandere headcanon) the whole Pomefiore dorm might be in on it. I see Rook trusting Epel and Vil with you or knowing about you. They might even be the unsuspecting bait that Rook plants. If you thought one pair of highly trained hunting eyes was bad enough, imagine a dorm full of eyes that are trained to see people in the spotlight.

Epel Felmier

So starting right off the bat I’m gonna say what his unique trait is. It’s his appearance. Book 5 was about Vil trying to get Epel to see that his cute face was something he could use to his advantage rather than a disadvantage. So, he’s going to take what Vil taught him and put it to good use. Overall characteristics would include manipulative and overprotective, with a hint of possessiveness.

Finding a way to tie in his unique trait with these characteristics is simple but let’s get into it! Manipulating you and others is quite easy for Epel. Though he doesn’t like being seen as some dainty and petite individually, he’s more than content using it to get you and others to listen to him. You would probably lower your guard a lot more with Epel because it’s Epel. At first glance, I think most of us could push him away if things ever got physical. Which is why Epel doesn’t seem like a danger at first. Epel's gentle and soft-spoken nature is something so refreshing to be around with (especially after hanging out with Ace and Deuce) and is usually quite calming. Epel is sweet and caring, always minding his manners which are suited for someone in Pomefiore. He doesn’t need to do any extra work because you feel comfortable around him talking about your personal life. When something occurs, you may ask Epel for his advice or maybe just to listen (which he’s always down for). It’s different from the others because sometimes Ace happens to say things so bluntly and Deuce, while having good intentions, says things that just don’t work. Epel is a soft-spoken person who offers advice in a tone that doesn’t mean to criticize or look down upon. Finding ways to effectively get his point across without the need of hurting your feelings. You trust Epel so much and while he appreciates this, he knows it stems from his appearance.

I can see him slightly being annoyed by this at first until he starts to slip up. Imagine your surprise when Epel is single-handly arguing and fighting the students who made fun of you. Imagine your surprise when the sweet boy starts to act out, saying things you didn’t expect to leave his mouth and just starts acting different. It’s total whiplash. Once he’s gotten your trust and you start to reconsider, his appearance comes to the rescue when you start accusing Epel of things he’s done. Honestly, I can see Vil and Rook stepping in if things get serious but most of the time his good looks do the talking. What do you mean Epel scared you? He grabbed your wrist and left a nasty bruise? That doesn’t sound like the Epel I know. Did he say all those mean things to you? Are you sure? Epel doesn’t speak like that! Suddenly, he’s making everyone turn against you for speaking out against him. How scary is Epel?

I want to include overprotectiveness and possessiveness together because they go hand in hand. Epel loves you and he’d fight for your honor! It’s quite cute, brave, and courageous to see someone of a small stature standing up against the bad guys. He was raised on the principle of treating everyone with respect and you’re no different! His possessiveness ties in when others try to steal you away from him. No doubt looking down on him because of his size and he needs to show them who’s boss! Well, he sounds tame, so what’s the big issue? Ladies and gentleman, it’s a power dynamic scale we have going on. See Epel is so used to being seen as someone small and petite and while he appears that way to his darling, he has the ability to remind them who is in charge. Though I don’t see Epel as being someone to get physical with you off the bat, there are times when he sees it as his last resort (and by last I mean he tried one other option and gave up). Considering he has a short temper, it’s more often than not. He can be like Ace who says some mean things and basically degrades you but no point in telling anyone because it’s not like anyone would believe sweet Epel would say that. He can pose a threat and when all else fails, start resulting to hitting you to keep you tied to him but again no use saying anything because who would believe you? Granted, there is only so much he can hide behind leading me to a small point, I think Vil and Rook would encourage his behavior.

Vil would dislike the way he’s so rough with you but he did gain your trust with that pretty face of his. Rook would find it amusing. Honestly, he’d feel the same when he thinks you shouldn’t be too rough with your darling, but Epel is a stubborn one who doesn’t accept defeat. In the rope-chain-saw scale, he’d be split between rope and chain. Honestly, like Rook, you start to grow a fear of Epel. While most of the time he’s his usual self (the one you came to love), saying the wrong thing could set him off and spell disaster for you. It’s like walking on eggshells for your safety. So at some point, Epel has no need for too many restrictions but Vil encourages him not to slip up. Not to get too cocky and assume he’ll always be at the top because an unssuspecting person came come and steal you away. It’s as if they’re trying to make him worse than he already is, resulting in the border between chain and rope. Depending on what happens and how he feels, he made add too many restrictions and he’s always inconsistent with them, but most of the time he’s a rope. Doesn’t feel the need to keep you caged and away when you already know the consequences that await you.

Epel overall isn’t too dangerous, maybe a 6/10? His behaviors can start to get predictable but do be careful with that face. He may even stage a situation where you’re the one hurting precious Epel and onlookers judge you. How could you come to hurt someone like Epel? Surely he didn’t pose too much of a threat. Though, while he physically is strong and has a quite short temper, his behaviors can become routine and easy to follow. He’s really only a danger more than Deuce because he would have the help of Vil and Rook. I’m sure that over time you could turn the tables on him and either fight back or paint him to be the villain he is. He’s truly like the poisoned apple, beautiful and tempting on the outside but rotten to the core.

#yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil x reader #yandere rook hunt x reader #yandere rook hunt #yandere rook x reader #yandere epel felmier #yandere epel x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere headcannons #yandere imagines #kikyan

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folatefangirl · 10 months ago

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On The Darkest Corner of the Heart

A comment on how Booktwt, Booklr, and Booktok media reactivity has lost the plot

Or, I think y'all need to log off and touch some grass and think about your actions for a hot minute. Note: This rant is a tad long, because I'm fucking pissed.

Disclaimer 1: I don't personally know the author of this book or anyone screenshotted in the drama. We aren't friends. I have no reason to either defend nor criticize these people, except for the fact that I've been a primary reader of self-pub and indie books for almost a decade now, and yes, including romances that some people don't consider worthy of civility. I'm also a queer healthcare worker.

Disclaimer 2: I don't want anyone mentioned/screenshotted here to be spammed with hate. Please do NOT contact them, including any authors mentioned. I included the primary actors for the current drama primarily so people don't claim I'm talking out of my ass.

Book blurb:

Forbidden. That's what they are to each other. Maddie Stevens has never felt good enough. Not good enough to keep her parents’ love. Not good enough to be independent and stop being her brother’s problem. Not good enough to build the future she wants. When she injures her ankle before a ballet audition that could change her career forever, she’s convinced her life is over at twenty-one. What’s the point of having dreams when they can go down the drain at any moment? And because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, her physical therapist turns out to be a tank-shaped grouch who doesn’t even seem to like her that much. It’s totally unfair that, for six weeks, she’s forced to look at that handsome beard and listen to that deep voice that makes her head all dizzy. Top that with the fact that he’s ten years her senior, and falling for James Simmons is a recipe for disaster. But when their forced proximity makes the lines start blurring, the forbidden temptation becomes impossible to resist.

The Timeline:

Events preceding 2023: Lisina Coney, author of The Darkest Corner of the Heart, was born in 1999 in northern Spain. She worked as a translator prior to publishing books.

Initially I thought these books were only self-published, but in fact are published under the formerly indie publisher Page & Vine, founded by romance novelist Meredith Wild.

January 27th, 2023: The Brightest Light of Sunshine is published by nearly 24-year-old Lisina Coney. On Goodreads, it currently sits at 3.87 stars as of today, February 10th, 2024, with 27,727 ratings and 3,592 reviews. Note: For a small-time author, especially for a debut novel, these numbers are huge.

May 2023, Page & Vine announced that Big 5 publisher Simon & Schuster would distribute their books as an imprint beginning in summer 2023.

In mid-to-late 2023, Lisina's website and socials announced The Darkest Corner of the Heart, her second novel to be published with Page & Vine on February 20th, 2024. Note: This means the events below occurred BEFORE the book's publication.

February 5th, 2024: anaborbareads on Twitter/X posts the cover and other art of Darkest Corner with the text, "a forbidden romance between ballerina and physical therapist???? pls i need this book now 🥺✨💗🫶🏻"

February 6th, 2024: h0mmelette on Twitter/X responds to anaborareads with "the booktok genre of forbidden romance is hilarious. theyre straight… whats forbidden"

February 6th, 2024: a tumblr user reposts the twitter thread from above to tumblr. Other tumblr users reblog and add on, and it quickly goes viral.

February 7th, 2024: From what I can tell via reverse image searching, the first iteration of the fake ARC page that's going around appears to be from Twitter/X user queef1ng. About 4 hours later, the same fake ARC page was reposted on the tumblr post mentioned above. And from here, this story takes a turn from people wanting to feel like they're above a romance novel writer to potential legal territory.

Of the 122 ratings on Goodreads for Darkest Corner to date, 9 appear to be 1-star reviews and from what I can tell, most/all of them were only published since the events began on 06Feb2024. 71 are 5-stars and while some of those are ARC readers, many newer ones appear to be trying to counteract the review bombing from the fake ARC page.

As of today, February 10th, 2024, it looks like the book will still be published on February 20th as planned, but we'll see.

Wait, so how do you know the page is fake?

I can't believe people have been so gullible but fine, here's my analysis:

Lisina's real ARC readers have stated that it isn't from the book (not gonna document all of them in the screenshots but you can easily go to the book's GR page and see the ARC reviews there).

As other folks pointed out on the tumblr repost, no real ARC page does a weird review watermark like that. Speaking from my own experience in reviewing ARCs or beta-reading, I agree.

The font tipped me off because it looked like it had literally been written on a Fanfiction.Net page. Not that Verdana, font size 10, is unique to FFN, but it looks like fanfiction typed font. Which brings me to:

Literally how could you believe this author writes like this? You can read her website or preview her first book or just have the bare minimum common sense to understand what satire looks like. If you don't believe me (because I know framing a post like this will put a lot of people on the defensive), I've also included screenshots below. The prose and dialogue are COMPLETELY different from the alleged screenshot. The only thing that is similar is that both characters are ballerinas.

But wait, all of this doesn't explain why YOU, Cinnia, are so pissed about this?

You're completely right! It really doesn't. All of the above is mostly documentation so the naysayers can't say I'm just some silly fangirl of the author.

The initial premise of the drama is that you can't have "forbidden love" in an m/f relationship. First of all, William Shakespeare would like to have a word with you regarding Romeo and Juliet. Second of all, yes you fucking can. See also: Religious and cultural differences and human history for a starting point. I know it may be hard to touch grass and look at media that is not tumblr queer media-centric and understand that people who are NOT you might enjoy it very much. Note that I'm a queer person saying this and I do read or watch m/f media at times because I don't like limiting myself. Go watch Bajirao Mastani and enjoy one of the most beautiful movies about forbidden love ever produced.

The book itself falls into the medical romance subgenre. For those not familiar, these are romances (usually m/f) that often involve a healthcare worker and their patient. In the real world, where people touch grass, a healthcare worker like me having a relationship with their patient is such a huge ethical violation that it will get you fired. In Darkest Corner, James is Maddie's physical therapist because she's a ballerina with a sports injury and he is treating her. Ergo, it is forbidden for them to get together and the initial premise for mocking this book is on very shaky ground.

In fact, I'd go as far as to say that the folks mocking it seem to very likely not be familiar with romance novels and their subgenres at all, or else they'd be well aware of the concept of straight romances marketed as a "forbidden romance" because they're fucking everywhere on any place that sells romance books. I have a personal collection of over 14,500 kindle ebooks. While not all of those are romances, a good chunk of them are, so I think I can count myself as a bit of a source here, you know?

The fake screenshot and social media drama has spread to at least Twitter, Tumblr, and BookTok, which all have huge reader hobbyists. For a small-time author barely past her debut novel's publication, allegations of this sort tied to your author name and book titles can last on the internet and in web searches for a long, long time, hurting an author's career. Maybe you're like "boohoo, who cares about their careers, I pirate all my fiction books anyway" and well, a post like this was probably never going to convince you of anything. I'm talking to the folks who might still have a sense of shame and self-reflection. Authors, even authors tied to a Big 5's imprint, earn peanuts. This sort of manufactured "scandal" is not ideal when the book is weeks away from being published. In fact, if the book has fewer sales than the first book in the series, Simon & Schuster may have legal grounds to go after the person who made the fake screenshot. A smarter person would have kept that to the groupchat or posted it as a clearly marked fanfic on AO3.

As a reader, this also sucks because when shit like this happens, the reviews of a book are permanently biased by both the bombers and the fans of the author, no matter how good or bad the book ends up being. Do I know if this book will be a 1-star or 5-star now, based on the reviews? Nope. Will I read it? No, because I don't read medical romances as it's a squick for me. But I may read her first book, which has mercifully escaped most of the social media nonsense.

This isn't the first time booktwt/booktok/booklr has engaged in a similar mob mentality towards books they don't like and I doubt it'll be the last. See Blood Heir by Amélie Wen Zhao and the allegations that turned out to be false then, too. However, I would like to ask y'all to please check your sources and not blindly accept what someone says on social media as truth. Get used to doing the research because manufactured misinformation is everywhere, and it's not gonna get better. (And for fuck's sake, not everyone is gonna like the same books and fandoms you like! It's not illegal to enjoy reading different things!)

Screenshots/Evidence (click for better resolution):

#lisina coney #booklr #booktok #booktwt #book rants #cinnia says stuff #long post #very long post #screenshot included at the bottom of the post #darkest corner of the heart #the darkest corner of the heart #misinformation #edited to fix title

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rainesol · 6 months ago

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TWST Main Cast Pride Headcanons!!!

Compiling all of my personal twst gender/sexuality headcanons into one post 💪

Disclaimer: I won’t bother with a DNI, however I won’t indulge any discourse or homo/trans/aphobia on this post. You will be blocked and promptly clowned on in the group chat. o7

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is an interesting character to me. I don’t think he’s the type to put a label onto his sexuality, but I headcanon bi with a female preference. Gender identity wise, I think within the current storyline he is satisfied with he/him pronouns. Best way to put it into words is that I think he’s nonbinary and uses he/him, but doesn’t have a label for that either. After finding out the custom, he always introduces himself and gives his pronouns.

I choose to interpret his line about enjoying the way his heels click as gender euphoria that just went unrecognised. At the time that I’m writing this, the Lost In The Book event isn’t out on en, but through this translation, you can see that any problems he had with the outfit came from the amount of skin shown rather than the actual presentation. I wholeheartedly believe that if he had been magical-girled into a sundress he’d have been totally cool with it.

As an extra note, I’ve seen a couple of transfem Riddle headcanons that I love. I’d love to see more fics with that concept in the fandom. Or I could do it myself lol.

Ace Trappola:

We know that Ace has canonically had a girlfriend in the past, and found her boring. Not nice. He also says that he decided that dating was a pain and he prefers just hanging out with his friends. I get it. I’m aroace and I’ve confessed that I’m biased and projecting 😔 But like. Come on. I’m choosing to interpret him as aromantic/arospec. Let me cling on to the representation that I made up in my head. I don’t have any specific gender headcanons on this guy. I just view him as cis. He/him.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce is another guy I don’t have much for </3 I usually view him as a gay man in my head? He/him pronouns, cisgender. I think he’s surprisingly more open to gender non-conformity than people expect of him, though. (For instance, the ballet lessons.)

Cater Diamond:

It’s canon in the jp server that Cater has interest in dating both men and women. I’m with everyone else in viewing him as canon bisexual. I headcanon him as having a male preference, but sometimes that changes.

It’s obvious what I’ll say about his gender, but for sure under the nonbinary umbrella. We all saw the guitar strap. Maybe demiboy? He/they. Cater is very online, and considering that the nonbinary flag is ten years old, he or his elder sisters might remember its creation.

Anyways, here’s the nonbinary flag colour picked from his club groovy, and the bisexual flag picked from his Halloween groovy! :D

Trey Clover:

Trey is typically a cis dude in my head. (He/him) He's the supportive older brother type, so I imagine that he keeps the Heartslabyul public bathrooms stocked on pads. I don't know how helpful he would be with advice, but he'll hear you out or refer you to the guidance councillor if that's what you want o7 I don't think the NRC guidance councillors are much help though. Maybe just speak to your homeroom teacher.

I hc that Trey likes men and women with no preference, but just isn't very vocal about it. It'll come up in casual conversation, but I don't think he'd see the point in telling someone unless it was relevant. You'd be having a casual convo with him in the common room, and he might make a reference to a guy he had a crush on in secondary school. Cue SnapCube 'Woah, he's bisexual, I didn't know that!'

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

I've seen so many 'token cishet' Leona headcanons that I cant help but to absorb it a little. I do have another headcanon that he experiences some same-sex attraction, but he's got such high standards that he rarely notices any attraction at all. He/him. Maybe poly cause lions?

Jack Howl:

MLM demisexual/romantic truther. (He/him or he/they) I don't have many headcanons for the Savanaclaw trio <//3 if you see/make any please feel free to tag me!! I love reading I love information I love headcanons‼️

Ruggie Bucchi:

Either transmasc or the personification of the 'I'm probably nonbinary but I have a job so idrc about that rn'. I usually picture him with He/him or he/they. Perhaps a rare they/them if you so desire.

Pansexual, his only preference is hard workers on their grind 💪 Between you both you could create an empire of part-time jobs. I've also seen one or two poly headcanons with him that I enjoy. Dividing the bills between the whole polycule lads come on. We're eating good this week.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

I cannot lie, I don't have anything on this guy. There's nothing to be said yk. Like, he's just there in my head and there's not much else I can add. I tend to agree with the MLM headcanons. I also picture him as demisexual/romantic sometimes. Not always. He's the best in the school at remembering pronouns. He updates his secret file on you right away.

Gender wise, I always just enjoy whatever the fanartist/fic writer shows me. I default to he/him. Ursula was based on a drag queen! I think that there should be post-canon/book 3 Azul drag personas. Now I'm picturing a drag design. She/her/he/him for that.

Floyd Leech:

Asexual and panromantic. I think Floyd uses any pronouns, depending on his mood. I headcanon genderfluid, but he typically keeps near the masc end of the spectrum. Not always. The basketball club made colour-coordinated bracelets so that they can easily tell whenever Floyd's preferences have changed. Blue for he/him, pink for she/her, yellow for they/them. Open for combinations of those three, and no bracelets for when he has no preference :D

Jade Leech:

Asexual and gay. I headcanon that he always introduces himself with he/him pronouns, but at the same time I picture him being cool with any pronouns. In classic Jade fashion, he will be generally unnerving about your choice. Like 'Oh? Is that your choice? ...Fascinating :)'

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim:

I don't have many headcanons on him specifically, but he'll totally pay for your HRT. Like Trey, he and Jamil keep Scarabia stocked with menstrual products. Kalim has a LOT of siblings, so he's seen a lot of different kinds of people :D He's got a ton of older brother advice. I see him with he/him pronouns, and MLM.

Kalim is a very supportive friend. Always excited to learn new things about his you. Also, those parades he throws? I bet he's (Jamil's) organised an NRC pride event. If I had the skills and patience, I'd draw that idea. If anybody does, tag me o7 I wanna see.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is a very well prepared man. As I mentioned above, he's the one that puts Kalim's plans into action. He keeps Scarabia stocked on everything, he's technically still an older brother, but I don't see him as having that dynamic with anyone other than his sister. He's still a supportive friend, though :D

I headcanon Jamil as bi, usually with he/him pronouns.

I once had a transfem au Jamil idea way back when I was 17, but I haven't given it much thought since. Maybe I'll bring the au back someday?

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil has A LOT of headcanons, theories and interpretations in the fandom. Vil is canonically a very gender nonconforming character, using typically gender neutral pronouns, being comfortable in his gender identity and presentation, and is very open to wider interpretations of gender outside of what is stereotypically considered 'masculine' or 'feminine'.

Surprisingly, I've got no proper headcanons on a set gender identity for him. There's already so much canon info within the series, that I just haven't given it much thought. I think he defaults to he/him pronouns, but is perfectly comfortable with anything. Keeps Pomefiore stocked and educated, and he's very well taught in makeup that can make you appear feminine OR masculine.

Similarly, I don't really have any label-specific headcanons for his sexuality. I normally interpret him as MLM. Vil is one of the characters that I'm always interested to see discussions about. His views on gender identity are pretty refreshing to see in modern media.

Epel Felmier:

Epel my friend! Another character that I like reading interpretations of. Again, I always give him he/him pronouns. He also had a lot of canon information on his views of gender norms. His character arc is honestly one of my favourites.

I typically picture that he’s attracted to multiple genders. I’ve seen a lot of interpretations where he mistakes his attraction for jealousy. A lot of “do I want to date him or be him?”

Another au/headcanon I’ve seen a lot of is transmasc Epel. I know a lot of transmasc people see themselves in him. That’s awesome.

Rook Hunt:

This guy! I see him as pansexual but also on the aromantic spectrum. Hear me out. In his suitor suit he has one (1) singular line about not being ready for marriage yet. Like obviously, he’s eighteen, but it just made the projecting side of my brain whir. I now see him as the type to like the idea of romance, just not for himself. Doesn’t mean that I don’t like seeing art/ships that go against this, but that is a hc I hold dear now.

He/him pronouns, but this guy loves to discuss peoples gender identity and interpretations of gender. Sit down with him and a cup of tea, and he’ll listen and talk for hours about how you both feel. Be warned that he may take notes. Mirror pronouns Rook? Oh wait. I like that. Mirror. Like Snow White.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

I typically see Idia as aroace with either little or no attraction. I like the headcanon that he doesn’t date at all, but I’ve also seen enough Silver x Idia to have another set of headcanons. I like both :D I’ve never seen him as not aroace though.

I do kind of wish I had his Suitor Suit sometimes. Every other line is something I’ve definitely said before. Like, the only time he shows any interest in dating is through video games and manga with characters that aren’t him. That’s so me irl you guys don’t understand. I would die happy if twst had canon aro/ace rep.

I think Idia’s the type to only use different pronouns online. Maybe with Ortho, too. He/they online and with close family. Everyone else knows him as he/him. I said that Cater might remember the nonbinary flag’s creation. Idia does. He was on twst tumblr to witness the creation of many flags.

Here's the aroace flag picked from the Suitor Suit card! :D Very pretty.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho is downright fascinating to pick apart. Pre book 6, I doubt Idia programmed a sexuality into him. Like it would even be possible. Then post book 6, after he gains a soul/sentience, I think he and Idia would have had a talk about him now having the choice to one day explore his gender identity and orientation (if he so desires). I think Ortho wouldn’t have any interest in dating, though.

Confessional time. Before wiring this I had the random thought of “In second year Ortho downloads she/they.zip and gets a new body made”. I never meant to pay much kind to it but now I can’t let it go. Like I’ve been accidentally referring to Ortho as she in front of friends. I have a future design in mind. I have additional headcanons about this design. It’s completely taken over. If I ever post that redesign is beyond me but it’s there in my head and it won’t leave. Fem!Ortho future au. Idk if anyone would hear me out there.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

Another character I enjoy multiple interpretations of. One interpretation I have of him is cupiosexual/romantic. The other is demisexual/panromantic. Either way, the concept of a qpr would make him so excited that it doesn’t rain for days on Sage’s Island. The grass withered.

Malleus is old. Not mentally, but chronologically. He’s seen language change a couple of times, and he grew up with people even older than him. He was born in the mid 1800s equivalent. Thon is one letter off of thorn. See where I’m headed? The use of thon/thons was first recorded in the 1850’s. Gender neutrality is not a new concept to him.

If you asked for his pronouns, I feel like he wouldn’t immediately understand. Like, he calls himself I. Me. Sometimes if he’s with someone we. Did you want all of those too? Oh, just the ones you call him./j

Anyways twisted wokeland au where Malleus allows Yuu to make up a name and set of pronouns for him because he refused to introduce himself/j

Silver:

Another guy I never considered. Mayybe also on the aroace spectrum? I think he’d be happy in a qpr. I think he’s not the type to question it. He just goes with whatever he feels. I’ve not got much lol.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Demisexual/romantic and he/him pronouns. Again, I’ve not thought much on him. I think it takes him a long, long journey of self-discovery though.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Again, Lilia was born a LONG time ago. He was born in the early to mid 1300s equivalent. He’s seen so much change since then, and he’s been through a lot of character arcs. I think I’m justified in headcanoning him as an unlabelled king. If he likes a girl, awesome. He likes a guy? Cool. I think it’s common to hear him refer to himself in a dead language. Baby girl, he has heard pronouns you could not comprehend.

If you ask his gender or sexuality, you’ll get some vague dad gestures, and a ‘you know what I mean’ nod. You don’t. You won’t.

Book 7 spoilers, but I hope that they keep the mlm implications in for the en translations. They’ll probably pull a Cater and write out the canon bi implications though. Heartbroken.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Thank you for reading to the end of my ramblings o7 If anyone else makes pride themed posts please feel free to tag me!! I would love to see them!

I really like the subtle ways these things are portrayed in the story. Especially within the world building. We know that is generally societally acceptable for men to wear makeup and dresses in TWST, and there’s canon development of language changing over time in a gender neutral way! (Witches and wizards -> mages. Suck on that, Rowling.)

⋆｡𖦹°‧★

————————————————————————

@tixdixl @cyanide-latte @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @elenauaurs

@emiensr

#spreading my woke agenda #I would have made more flags but I think my phone would have genuinely started sweating #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland

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fg083nrt · 1 year ago

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KAKUHIDA fic recs 💴🩸

Everything in this list is either M or E-rated. Very low possibility of anything T-rated. Most links are ao3, but some are livejournal, fanfiction.net or ficbook or pixiv.

Disclaimer: I do not actually know 4 languages; I just use Google Translate or Depl because I am insane.

TOP FAVES in no particular order

[Mandarin]【角飞】都市谋杀之夜 by Liebestorm

Ballet dancer Hidan + black alley doctor Kakuzu. Incredible story, full of casual cruelty, there’s death, there’s body horror, there’s physical and mental suffering - all things Kakuhida. I think about this story a lot. The accuracy of their depiction in the modern setting is stunning. Head the warnings. There are many.

Content Warnings: abortion, amputation, violence, abuse, cruelty.

By the same author 【吸血鬼AU】以圣灵的名义… Vampire AU! A small, fun story about two vampires hunting together. Some really cute romantic cannibalism.

[Russian] Мертвый сезон by Tiferet (taubenblautiferet)

PART 1 | PART 2

“Can a country boy and a big city man fall in love?”

Hot spring worker Hidan and ex-yakuza accountant Kakuzu on vacation. Lots of ghosts (well, just one, but oh man), curses(???), sex, Tokyo life and a demonic God that wants to have a talk. Very dear to my heart. Watching Kakuzu drop his guard down when faced with Hidan’s relentless naivete and determination makes my brain go all mushy.

Literally, anything by this author is top-tier storytelling writing, and you know you are always in for a fun ride!!

If you are looking for something more lighthearted, try ХИДАН ЛАЖАЕТ. It’s a fun story about video game streamer Hidan and his secret admirer, Kakuzu.

[English] Is it Life or Art? by lilac_bramble

This story is just so much fun, London socialite/model/”personality” Hidan and investment banker Kakuzu. Truly like peak Kakuhida to me. I really enjoy their relationship here. Their chemistry just works so well. This story is nearly the same word count as Game of Thrones. I am not joking. I am obsessed with authors' in-depth, detailed little tidbits of life in London.

[Japanese] 【角飛】めまゐ【web再録】by Puola

I love stories about characters told by someone completely unrelated, like a view from outside. I think this story does it so well. I loved seeing the tiny glimpses into how other people see them. It’s a short but a very special story. They cannot escape ‘These two really care for each other’ allegations.

[Russian] Небо класса S by бабаягапротив

*DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE DEIDARA FAN OR SASODEI FAN

It is a truly amazing story from start to finish. I couldn’t stop reading it. Cruel, funny, witty dialogue, violence, great character insight, everything juicy remains in subtext and subtext alone. Lots of fun revelations are left up to the reader's interpretation, which I really enjoyed. Great example of how a sex scene can be used to show more hidden aspects of a relationship and how the two come together. The whole premise is really unusual and refreshing.

[English] Like steps of passing ghosts by Sneakend

The storytelling reminds me of an official Naruto light novel. The same like tempo and the dynamic between them just feels very much like them. The story premise is simple but satisfying. I love it when Hidan is affected by the supernatural.

[English] In Limbs and Joints by orphan_account

Zombie AU. Loved, loved, loved the ending. I hate reading zombie AU, where characters survive for a bit too long makes everything drag on and on. This story is perfect. We get them coming in, and then the end feels even more gut-wrenching but also super satisfying. Really well done!

[English] Kakuzu and the Temple of Jashin by fauvester

Ultimate comfort story. It’s camp; it’s scary, it’s gory, it’s funny. I just love everything about this story.

Genre clusters

Genre: “Corrupt Priest Hidan”

[Russian] Ничего святого by меровинген

Church Cardinal Hidan + Thief Kakuzu. Really hot!

2. [English] Madness by JonShiiiiiDesu

Holy Son Hidan + Black Plague Doctor Kakuzu. The premise and the setting is really fun!

Genre: “Kakuzu goes to a bar, spots Hidan being his weird, insane self, and then simply has no other choice but to fuck him in the men’s washroom.”

[Russian] Оседлавший торнадо by Tiferet

Calgary stampede Kakuhida. Insert cowboy emoji. Great story! May be helping with translation soon.

2. [Russian] Горючее by AmberWha1e

Hidan picks Kakuzu up at a bar but loses his number.

3. [Russian] 5:49 в Стерджен-Бей by Neverhere

Pure romance. Modern AU, as well!

Check out another fic by the same author Таинство любви

Hidan gives head in a church! Fun!

4. [Russian] Чистюля by меровинген

Casino coworkers Kakuhida, I love this authors Kakuzu!

+There was another fanfic that was like so unhinged, but it got deleted, I will miss it forever.

[English] Beloved Schism by ThisCatastrophe

Saint!Hidan+Mercenary!Kakuzu. Really interesting setting packed with catholic tidbits.

[English] Evolution of Us by SenkoWakimarin

I remember reading this story on LiveJournal, a classic.

Gentleness by the same author. They are an OG!

[English] True Intentions by sweetdreamz

Unfinished, but it’s so hot and cute I don’t care. Virgin!Kakuzu is a rare commodity.

[English] take the hand and arm by shannyan

Sex pollen! Check out more from that author.

[English] Bring Me Back A Dog by W0lfism

Fuckfest AND a really fun plot!!! All in one!!! Any KKHD by Wolf is top-notch porn.

[English] Gentle Rains Trailer Park by HidansCrazyLaugh

Trailer park AU! Really love this one

[Russian] The Third Weakness by Цагн

Modern prison AU focused on Kakuzu and his fateful meeting with Hidan.

Their other works for them are awesome too

[English] Irredeemable Paradise by ManicR

This style is rare nowadays I like this.

[English] Heaven by Crystaline-Crimson

Similarly rare style.

[English] Another Mess by Un.filltered

A short and fun sex session on a table.

[Japanese] どうぞこの身を召し上がれ by Kiyo

Cake and Fork AU, it’s a variation of omegaverse, but with more focus on cannibalism. Romantic goreporn!

#kakuhida #kakuzu #hidan #fic rec #akatsuki #brainworms #i have a ton more in my bookmarks but i think this might be a good starting point rec list

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once-upon-an-imagine · 1 year ago

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I Wanna Dance with Somebody - Eddie Munson

A/N: aaaahh xD I have no idea how I managed to do this but, I did it! hahaha I hope you loves like it!! :D this is based on this request and also this post! :)

Request - Anonymous: omg heyyy so i would like to request a eddie dialogue if they’re still open! one where maybe the reader and him are out in the mall together as a newly couple. people keep giving them weird stares and some even make comments just because the reader is a prep. eddie gets upset and insecure about it then reader comforts him too make him feel better and that’s pretty much it :)

Warnings: both Eddie and reader feeling insecure, mentions of sex (kinda) Jason and his friends being complete assholes, I think that’s it but please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger things :D gif isn’t mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I Wanna Dance with Somebody

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody I wanna feel the heat with somebody Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody With somebody who loves me

Eddie Munson could still remember the first time he ever made you laugh. He would always describe it to you as his favorite sound in the entire world. He smiled to himself as he looked at you talking about something. He was definitely not paying attention while you scribbled away in your notebook and he sat resting against the headboard of his bed, strumming his guitar softly.

“Eddie?” you chuckled, looking up at him.

“Yes, princess?”

“Are you even listening to me?” you smirked.

“Of course, I am” he lied.

“Then, what did I say?” you asked, getting up and making your way towards him.

“That you… wanted to give me a kiss” he smiled at you. You chuckled and leaned in to kiss him.

“That’s not what I said” you told him when you pulled away.

“Worth a shot” he shrugged as he pulled you in for another kiss. “What were you saying, sweetheart?”

“I was asking if we could go get some ice cream before I have to go to my dance class?” you smiled. “We can say hi to Robin and Steve” you suggested.

“Of course we can, love” he smiled, giving you another peck on the lips.

You had been dating Eddie for a few months now, and if you were being honest, you had never been happier. The two of you were probably the two most different people in school, but you didn’t care. It started when you were assigned to be Eddie’s tutor. And one day, the two of you were pretty close, one thing led to another, and the two of you were kissing. And then, Eddie asked you out on a date. And the rest was history. Eddie always made you feel special. Even before the two of you started dating when you were just study partners and friends. He remembered little things about you and he noticed when you were having a bad day. He always tried to make you feel comfortable and he loved making you laugh. You fell for him before you could even know what was happening.

“Thanks, love” you smiled as you grabbed your ice cream from him. “Are you sure you can drive me to class? It’s not far from here, I can just walk-”

“Now, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my beautiful girlfriend walk by herself down the street?”

“It’s a only few blocks away, Eddie” you chuckled.

“That’s not the point, dear” he said, grabbing your free hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he did and he pulled you closer, not letting go of your hand.

“Hey, did I tell you what we’re doing today in class?” you asked before you started rambling on about ballet.

Eddie could listen to you talk all day. It was his favorite thing. The way that your face brightened up whenever you talked about something that you were passionate about was something he couldn’t describe. So he tried to pay attention to you. Because he always paid attention to you. But as you two walked through the mall he started glimpsing people looking in your direction. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed.

He’d seen it around school. He saw the way that some girls looked at you as you avoided their table and went straight to the Hellfire table instead. They made some snarky comment or disgusted face, laughing about the whole thing. He noticed the way that some of the jocks would look at you when you would stop talking to them as soon as Eddie appeared and you ran over to hug him instead. The way they would always glare at him for it. As if he wasn��t worthy to have your attention.

And he could see it now. He could feel every person around staring at the two of you and making comments about it. He was used to people looking at him funny because of the way he dressed, how loud he was, and the music he listened to. But he hated that they would do the same thing to you. To judge you just for being with someone like him. He knew what people thought of him. He knew what they saw when they looked at him. He knew you were too good for him but you always made an amazing job at making him forget it or just not care at all.

But something was off today. The more you kept walking together, holding hands, the more people stared at you. He could see their shocked faces. He could hear them laugh or comment about it. When he looked back at you, he realized you were completely oblivious to all of this. You paid no attention to everyone around you, you just kept on talking to him about your excitement for your next class as you kept on eating your ice cream.

“Love?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts and he looked at you, smiling nervously. “Sorry, I was talking too much, wasn’t I?” you said, looking away. “You probably don’t want to hear about this-”

“No, love that’s not true” he insisted. “I love hearing you talk” he said.

“R-really? I know it’s kinda boring and… not at all your thing, I just-”

Eddie was about to cut you off with a kiss, but he suddenly shifted it to your head instead when he felt the eyes of a group of jocks not far from the two of you. Which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“No, love, it’s not boring. I just spaced out” he told you.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked curiously.

“N-nothing, uh-” he stuttered, looking at the jocks who were glaring at him. “We should probably get going, it’s almost time for your class” he smiled.

“Oh… um, okay. Let me just go wash my hands first” you said, walking over to the bathroom.

Eddie smiled wearily at you as he sat down on a bench to wait for you. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. Maybe he was overreacting. He knew what he had with you. He knew you loved him. You showed him in many ways.

“Dude, I told you she was dating that freak!” he heard someone on the other side of the bench.

He turned around and saw the jocks from earlier on the other side of the plant. He knew them from school. Of course, he did. They were the same ones who always taunted him and were always following you like sick puppies when you didn’t even give them the time of day.

“Dude, she can’t be!” he heard another one of them, Andy, say.

“We just saw them holding hands!” the first one, Chance, insisted.

“Maybe she lost some sort of bet” Andy laughed. “There’s no way that she’s voluntarily dating him!”

“Dude, Jason is going to flip when he finds out” the third one, Patrick, added.

“That he chose that loser over him? Yes, he is!” Chance laughed too.

“What do you think she even sees in him?” Patrick chuckled.

“Hey, love” you said, walking towards Eddie and making him jump a little, turning to you. “We still have some time, do you want to go to the record store? I think they have the new Metallica album you were waiting for” you smiled at him.

“Oh” he said, feeling his heart beating faster at the thought of you remember, but then he heard the loud laughter behind him and his heart shattered again. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be late for your class” he told you.

“Um… sure” you smiled. Usually, Eddie loved going to the music shop with you and argue why your music choices were better than his, but you could tell something was off with him. “Is… everything okay?”

“Yeah” he insisted, with a nervous smile. “Let’s go” he said, stepping aside so you could go first instead of holding your hand.

You tried not to think any of it but when you got to Eddie’s van, he didn’t open the door for you. Like he usually did. And on the way to your class, he was unusually quiet, making you anxious. This is how it always started. He wouldn’t look at you, and you could see he was gripping the steering wheel tightly like he did whenever he was upset. So your head started spinning. When he pulled over in front of the ballet studio, he didn’t move. He usually got out of the car, opened the door for you, and walked you in. You felt your heart racing a little and the words came out before you could stop them.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Eddie instantly turned around to look at you. He saw the tears in your eyes and it broke his heart.

“What? Sweetheart, no. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know” you said, quietly. You looked down at your hands and a few tears escaped your eyes. “You have been acting strange today and… you didn’t want to hold my hand and…” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m being stupid” you told him, wiping away your tears.

“No, princess” he sighed, grabbing your hands and turning you to look at him. “I’m sorry” he said, wiping the remaining tears on your cheeks. “I’m the one who’s being stupid. I swear, this has nothing to do with you-”

“W-what’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, love. I promise” he smiled at you.

“Okay” you nodded slowly.

“Hey” he said, softly cupping your cheek. “I love you” he smiled, giving you a peck on the lips.

“I love you too” you said when you pulled away.

“I’ll come pick you up in an hour okay?” he said, grabbing his jacket and placing it over your shoulders.

“Okay” you said with a tight lip smile. Not the same bright smile you always had when you looked at him. You kissed his cheek and you stepped out of his van.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Back already, Munson? If I didn’t know better, I said you’re starting to miss us” Steve smirked when Eddie came back to Scoops Ahoy.

“Shut up, don’t flatter yourself, Harrington. I’m here to talk to Buckley” he told him.

“I’m heartbroken” he chuckled as Robin came into view.

“What’s up, dingus?”

“I need your help!”

“Trouble with your lady?” Robin smirked, but it was dropped when she saw the desperate look on Eddie’s face.

“Why is she with me?”

“Excuse me?” Robin asked, confused.

“You heard me. Why is she with me? She could be with anyone she liked, why did she choose me?”

“You mean all those assholes who keep following her around and have a bet to see which one of them she would go out with?”

“They what?” both Steve and Eddie snapped at the same time.

“Yeah, Carver and his friends. You didn’t know?” Robin asked them. “They made a bet to see which one of them could get her to… um… well, you know…” she said.

“What the fuck? Does she know?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, she’s the one that told me about it” Robin shrugged. “She heard them one day at a party. That’s why she doesn’t hang out with them anymore” she explained.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them” Eddie said, feeling his blood boil.

“Eddie, where is this coming from? You’ve been with her for some time now and I know that you have told each other the ‘L’ word so… why are you suddenly questioning your relationship?” Robin asked confused.

“I don’t know, I’m being stupid” he sighed.

“Shocking” Steve smirked at him.

“Today just kind of made it real, you know? I know we are together in school and I see the way everyone looks at us, but today it was even more. I could hear people laughing and commenting on it, like ‘Oh, I can’t believe she’s with that freak!’ and I just… I don’t want her to go through what I go through just for being with me!”

“She doesn’t care about that-”

“Well, maybe she should! She’s too perfect for this world, and I’d hate to think that people are being mean to her for being with someone like me. She’s too good for me. She’s perfect in all her classes, people love her. I mean she's too hot for me!”

“That's true” Steve and Robin said at the same time, earning a glare from Eddie.

“Look, Eddie, at the end of the day, she wants to be with you! She told me she has never felt this way about anyone” Robin admitted.

“But I just don’t get why, Buckley! What does she even see in me?”

“Wow, you're even more of a dingus than Steve” Robin laughed.

“Hey!”

“Eddie, you wanna know why she likes you? Not only does she think you are hot and cute, which, personally I don't see it, no offense" she started. "Every boyfriend she had before you treated her like shit. Like her opinions didn't even matter. Like she was only part of the relationship to please him. They would go on and on about themselves and not even care about what she had to say. But you… you treat her like she's the most precious thing in the world. You always listen to her and you do whatever you can to cheer her up when she's upset. You remember the things she likes and she feels really special when you do. You’re always taking care of her and you make sure that she’s okay. She loves that you’re passionate about the things that you love. She loves that you’re who you are and don’t care what people say about it. She loves that you have a good heart and you show it for the people you care about and she knows she’s number one on your list. And you know the thing she loves most about you? You make her laugh” she explained.

“R-really?” Eddie said, feeling his cheeks blushing a little.

“Yeah, really” Robin said, before smacking him on the head. “Now, go fix whatever you did because you don’t want to prove her wrong, do you?”

“Y-yeah, no! I’m gonna fix this!” he said, excitedly. “Thanks, Buckley! Later, Harrington!”

“You know, you should be a motivational speaker” Steve told Robin.

“I know, dingus!” she smiled back.

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You walked out of your class, hoping to find Eddie there already waiting for you. But since class had ended a bit early you were pretty sure you would have to wait for him a while. You didn’t really mind until you saw four familiar guys you wished would just leave you alone.

“Hey, babe, fancy meeting you here” Jason Carver and his friends walked closer to you.

“Um, hi Jason. H-hi guys” you smiled nervously. You didn’t particularly like them but you didn’t want to be rude. You just hoped Eddie would get here already.

“How was your class?” Andy smirked, looking at you up and down. You felt uncomfortable and you pulled Eddie’s jacket closed.

“Fine, thanks” you replied, looking both ways on the street to hope Eddie’s van was coming.

“Looking for someone?” Jason asked, stepping closer to you and blocking your view from the street.

“Yes, I’m waiting for my boyfriend” you said, hoping they would get the hint and leave you alone.

“So, it’s true?” Jason asked you.

“What?”

“You’re dating that freak?” he said, glaring at your jacket and you frowned at him.

“Don’t call him that” you said, trying to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

“Why are you with someone like him? You should be with someone who knows how to please a woman” Jason smirked at you.

“Not that is any of your business, but Eddie is ten times the man you’ll ever aspire to be, Jason. If there is someone that knows how to please a woman, it’s him” you smirked back at him.

“I doubt that freak knows how to treat a girl like you” he insisted tightening the grip in your arm.

“Oh, you mean like you and your friends who treat girls like a piece of meat and make bets to see who can sleep with them first?”

“Please, get over yourself, nobody would want you anymore now that you are that freak’s slut-”

“Hey!” you felt relieved when you heard Eddie’s voice and the metal music blasting from his van. Jason and his friends turned around to see him, standing on the sidewalk, glaring at them. Eddie noticed and secretly loved when your upset expression changed once you looked at him. He could see the relief in your eyes. ‘You’re always taking care of her and you make sure that she’s okay.’ He made you feel safe. And he definitely took pride in that. You quickly freed yourself from Jason’s grasp and ran towards your boyfriend, throwing yourself happily into his arms. “You okay, princess?”

“Yes” you said, feeling completely content when he wrapped his arms around you. “Can we go home, please?”

“Of course, love” he smiled, kissing your forehead, before he led you to his van and open the door for you. Once he closed it, he turned to look at the four jocks, glaring at him not believing their eyes.

“You want something, freak?” Jason spat at him, trying to play it cool.

“Seems to me like you want something, Carver” Eddie said walking closer to him. “If you ever touch my girlfriend again, me and my satanic group will make sure that you and your stupid friends don’t ever bother, not just her, but any girl in school, got it?” he smirked as he walked away from them. Before he got into his car, he raised his hands to his head, as if they were horns and stuck his tongue out, spluttering at them, making you laugh inside the car. “Hi, princess” he smiled at you before giving you a small kiss.

“Hi, love” you smiled. “Are these for me?” you asked pointing at the flowers between the seats.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, that’s why I was late. There was a long line and-” you quickly cut him off, pulling him and giving him a passionate kiss.

“I love them” you smiled, once you pulled away. “Thank you” you said, picking them up.

“I wanted to apologize for… earlier” he said, placing his hand behind his neck. “I was being stupid and, I made you upset” he told you. “I just… I saw all these people looking at us weirdly and… laughing and…” he sighed. “I love you so much, and you are the closest thing to perfect for me and I just… I guess I got a bit scared that you would… realize that you’re too good for me, b-because you are! But I never wanted to make you upset and I guess, what I’m saying is that I’m really lucky to be with you, and I love you, and I have no idea what I did to get you or to deserve you but I’m really happy you love a dork like me and I want to make you as happy as you make me” he smiled bashfully at you.

“Eddie” you said, feeling tears in your eyes. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me” you confessed. “I love you so much. And I don’t want you to feel that I’m too good for you because you are also too good for me” you chuckled. “You make me feel so special and I want to do the same for you” you smiled.

“Trust me, princess. You really do” he smiled, pulling you for another kiss. “I… got something else for you, if you want it” he said, grabbing a small box and giving it to you.

“Are you proposing to me?” you mocked him.

“No” he rolled his eyes opening the box. “Here” he said, taking out a silver chain that held one of his rings. Not just one of his rings. His favorite ring.

“Eddie” you smiled brightly at him. “That’s- that’s your favorite one!”

“I want you to have it” he said, placing it on you. “Just so you always have a part of me with you” he smiled as you grabbed it with your hand, admiring how it hung on your neck.

“I love it” you smiled sweetly before pulling him in for another kiss.

“I’m glad you do” he said, kissing your temple. “You wanna get something to eat?”

“Yes, please, I’m starving” you said, as Eddie started the car.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t help but smile at how you looked at your new necklace and the flowers in your hands with the most enamored smile on your face. He did that. He made you this happy and he promised himself he would always do that.

“What?” you felt your cheeks burning when you looked at him.

“Nothing” he shrugged. “I love you” he smiled.

“I love you too” you said, kissing his cheek.

The End

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A/N: I hope you liked it! Steddie’s coming up next :) let me know what you think :D

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot

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