#nutcracker auditions

[allegro-dance]

The Art of Standing Out: Unique Strategies for Nutcracker Auditions

As the holiday season approaches, the anticipation of the Nutcracker Ballet fills the air. For many aspiring dancers, the opportunity to be a part of this cherished production is a dream come true. Nutcracker auditions serve as the gateway to this enchanting world. In a sea of talented dancers, how can you stand out and secure a coveted role in the Nutcracker Ballet? Let’s explore some unique strategies to help you shine during your Nutcracker audition.

Read More: https://xuzpost.com/the-art-of-standing-out-unique-strategies-for-nutcracker-auditions/

[drefear]

Daddy Issues

Best Friend’s Dad!Miguel x Reader

TW: smut, p in v, roughness, dirty talking, fingering, some fluff, some angst, teasing. 

might make a part 2, we’ll see. 

Nothing beat the way it felt to dance, nothing made you feel as alive. This was evident in the way you leaped across the stage and spun into a pirouette. You smiled and panted a bit and continued your routine, jumping into an arabesque as if you were in flight and completely weightless.

The applause filled the auditorium and you felt the out-of-beat rise and fall of your chest as you begged for air silently. You saw your father stand up with tears in his eyes and your best friend as well, who came to watch you for support. You’d finally gotten the lead in the show your dance school was doing, The Nutcracker , and being Clara was like walking on air. You ballet-ran off the stage and waited for the curtains to close, signaling the end of the show. You’d done it, and with perfect timing as you were about to graduate college and no longer have your dance team anymore, since you would officially reach the age limit in the fall of next year and auditions were in the winter. Your heart pounded as you saw Gabriella from the wings, happily waiting for you to come out and take your final bow, and then it was time. You milked the hell out of your curtain call, waving and smiling like a total idiot, but it was worth it. Everything had paid off to finally be at this moment.

But… they were gone? You searched for your father and Gabriella’s faces, but they weren’t in the seats they’d just been in. Did they leave? Maybe went to get the car before everyone rushed to the exits? You felt a little tinge of hurt in your heart, but you would try to understand. They came to watch and that’s all that mattered.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder as you masked your confusion on the stage, you turned to see the two missing familiars holding two large bouquets of flowers. You eyes welled with tears and you hugged them tight, crying happily as they wrapped their arms around you. The moment was perfect.

Well. Almost. There was only one person missing, one person who you already knew wouldn’t make it.

Gabriella’s dad, Miguel. He’d been one of your biggest fans since you and Gabriella became friends in middle school, about the time you began to blossom into the woman you were today. The two of you were inseparable from the moment you’d met, and soon, both of your families were just as close.

You’d been through everything together. Puberty, getting your periods, your parents divorce and your mom leaving, Gabriella’s mother passing away, everything. You two had even decided once you graduated high school, to go to college together and share an apartment.

Which is exactly what you did, and now you both were graduating. Gabriella was finishing her undergraduate for medical school, and you’d gone on to major in the arts, so you could become a professional choreographer. No one could get in between the two of you.

Except her father, you thought for a brief second before shaking the thought from your head.

No! That’s bad, very bad! You chastised yourself for your subconscious wishes.

Gabi’s dad was so nerdy as you grew up, doting on her mom every waking moment. You’d even gone as far as to call him a simp once, to which Gabi laughed about it for days. Your mom and dad barely got along at all through your childhood, so it was no wonder how much her parents loved each other was foreign to you, but things changed when you two became juniors in high school.

You’d had your first kiss, and Gabi begged for details in her room. The two of you sat up and talked about this boy you’d kissed all night, but she was definitely way more excited than you were. It just wasn’t what you’d expected, shoving his tongue into your mouth instantly and basically just pushing your head into his passenger window as you somewhat wanted to get away from him.

Plus, he wasn’t even that cute.

But Gabi hadn’t experienced anything around boys yet, and so you indulged her and made it seem way more romantic and nice than it was. Batting your eyes, you made smoochy sounds as she smacked you with a pillow and you both giggled.

“Girls, lights out.” You heard Gabi’s mom say and you furrowed your brows a bit at Gabi, who just rolled her eyes in response. You waited to hear the footsteps fade before you asked her what that was about.

“My mom and dad have been seeing this counselor. Something about the spark needing to be reignited, so now they go into the guest bedroom every Saturday to have sex.” She made a disgusted face and your eyes widened.

“They plan it?”

“I guess? It’s been every weekend now for like three weeks, and I’m going insane! Let’s sneak out and see a movie or something before my brain dies.” She moved towards her window and waved me over, but you glanced at her bedroom door.

“Wait, I gotta get my shoes from downstairs, I’ll meet you in the backyard.” You spoke and she gave you a thumbs up, before tucking out of her window.

You tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room when you heard it.

“Miguel- right there!” It was hushed, but you heard it clearly. Not being able to resist, you peeked into the kitchen where you’d heard the sounds and your mind was never the same. “What if the girls come down-”

“Shh, we’ll hear them, now focus on me, cariño.” He had his head tucked into her neck as his pants were pulled below his ass, showing his toned bottom as he fucked up into her. Legs wrapped around his waist, he was so much larger than her. How did you just notice this?

Your eyes fluttered downwards to where the two of their bodies met and you gasped. He was huge. Could dick even be that big? He was beyond anything you’d seen in the health textbooks or on twitter.

You stumbled backwards and immediately knocked over the lamp on the table, the house then suddenly becoming quiet. It was as if there was no air inside of your lungs anymore, freezing in place until you saw the swinging kitchen door begin to move, running faster than you ever have for your shoes and bolting back up the stairs. You jumped as you tried to get your shoes on as fast as possible and sat on the window ledge as you heard someone coming into Gabi’s room as you were about to climb down the gutter into her backyard. Looking up, your eyes met his.

His face was sweating lightly and his eyes were blown with lust, watching you like a predator. You glanced down where you’d seen what you should never have, and his pants were pulled up now, but the bulge was still prominent and hard. You gulped and practically fell out the window backwards as you collapsed onto Gabi, who was waiting for you.

“Go!” You whispered harshly and dragged her hand, “Your dad is right behind me and he saw me!”

“Shit, how?” Gabi asked and your mouth went dry, the scene replaying in your mind like a broken record that kept skipping to the same place.

“You don’t want to know.” You hushed and ran to her fence as the lights from the back door flashed on and you two were met with the large shadow of Mr. O’Hara.

“What are you two doing?” His voice was like a death sentence to the both of you, who were sitting in the grass now. You scrambled to get up and your hands were shaking. Nothing was processing in your head. Why were you so sweaty?

“We were just gonna jump on the trampoline, dad.” Gabi lied and you just nodded, eyes avoiding his as he walked closer and folded his arms. You looked at his hands, and you thought back to where they’d just been, rubbing Mrs. O’Hara’s clit. Your eyes flashed back down to the grass.

Your name broke you from your haze, Mr. O’Hara’s voice making your knees tremble a bit. “You don’t look well, maybe I should call your dad and have him come get you.” he spoke and moved to touch your forehead, checking for a temperature. You flinched and moved backwards.

“You know what, you’re right. I’ll walk home I think. See you tomorrow, Gabi.” You rambled and a hand caught your wrist.

“You can’t walk home now, it’s dark out. I’ll just call your dad-”

“He’s working late, can’t come out. I’ll just walk home!” You tried again, begging for whatever higher power could hear you to just let you die.

“No, I’ll drive you then.” He said and your fate was sealed.

You just quietly nodded as Gabi looked at you with a bad feeling showing in her emotions. You two were in so much trouble.

Sitting in the car, your knee bounced with anxiety.

‘Please don’t talk to me, please don’t talk to me, please don’t-’

“So, where were you two actually planning on going?” SHIT.

“Uh. Just to see a movie.” You mumbled, staring out the window.

“And why sneak out? You both know that we’d happily drive you, even give you some money for snacks.” His tone made your skin crawl, now recognizing it as the moaning and grunting you’d heard prior.

You cleared your voice and tried to not look guilty. “We, uh, didn’t want to… bother you guys.” You hoped he wouldn’t even hear you, would just let it all go.

“It’s never a bother, especially when it’s about your and Gabi’s safety.” He spoke and pulled up to a red light. The silence was drowning you, but it was better than answering his questions.

“Gabi said you two were busy tonight, so we thought it’d be better if we just snuck out.” You shifted your legs in the passenger seat, begging the world to strike you with lightning.

“Ah. So Gabi figured it out.” He said and the light turned green again. “Gabi’s mother and I have been married a long time, and sometimes we need to do things to keep-”

“The flame alive, yeah I know. Can we please not talk about this, Mr. O’Hara?” You begged, and your eyes met once more, making you blush wildly. You couldn’t help but remember the way he looked as he thrusted into his wife. You turned away fast so he hopefully wouldn’t see your red cheeks. “Gabi and I will never sneak out again, I promise, just please stop talking about this!” You covered your ears a bit. That’s when he put it together.

“Oh.” he just said and continued to drive, hands white knuckling the steering wheel. “I’m… sorry you saw that.” His tone was hesitant, like he wasn’t even sure what the words he was saying meant.

“Cool, yep, see ya tomorrow Mr. O’Hara!” You chirped and practically jumped out of his moving car as he pulled to a stop outside of your house, no cars in the driveway and no lights on. You ran to the front door and burst inside, locking it behind you and panting.

That night, you’d had your very first orgasm thinking about him fucking you like that and nothing was ever the same.

A year later, and Mrs. O’Hara was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer and had only a few months to live. She pulled through to around a year and you felt your heart break the moment she was gone. Your mother had abandoned your father and you a little into your freshman year of high school, so you’d leaned on Mrs. O'Hara, like she was your own mother, learned her ways and how to be a good cook, and she taught you many things about life that you’d eventually need.

Gabriella and Mr. O’Hara were both devastated, and you could understand why. Nothing was the same for them. After the funeral, you, the O’Hara’s, and your father had a meal together, and that would be a weekly dinner from then on. Most of the time, she would cook for everyone when you all would hang out together, especially after your mom disappeared, but now with her gone, you picked up on cooking duties. It wasn’t as amazing as hers, but it fed you all and it was similar, so you kept up with it every week.

Flash forward to tonight, graduation looming over you like a rain cloud on a summer day. All of your grades were final, your dance team was about to disburse, and you’d be a woman of the world soon. Oh how the times had changed, and tonight was your official family dinner. Instead of cooking at home, your father insisted on you all going out to eat and your and Gabriella’s favorite restaurant.

And so here you were, sitting with that too tight bun still bobbypined and an easy-to-throw-on dress you’d yanked out of your closet in a rush to wear home after your performance. Gabriella held your hand as she chatted about what her and her new boyfriend were going to do after graduation, how he was going to med school with her and she wanted to get an apartment with him. You nodded, excited for her. You weren’t surprised, as she’d mentioned them moving in together multiple times recently, which would mean you'd be looking for a studio apartment soon. That was fine by you, since she’d still be in school and you were about to begin your own career.

The Latin food filled your senses as you enjoyed the food and light conversation. Gabriella spoke with her boyfriend to her other side and your father laughed with a glass of bourbon in his hand. You felt a hand on your shoulder from above and saw that looming figure you saw in your late night fantasies.

“Dad!” Gabi perked up and stood to hug her father, making you also stand to give him a polite peck on the cheek. As you leaned up to do just that, the corners of your lips brushed and your body froze, the feeling soft and… addicting. You snapped out of it almost as fast as you felt it and blinked a few times quickly to look like nothing happened, not meeting his eyes as you sat once more.

When you looked back to where he was hugging your father and shaking Gabis boyfriends hand, your eyes met and he was staring a bit. He sat next to you and you straightened up in your dress. This was new…

You’d done well at hiding your crush on him in the years, you thought. The first few months after you saw him and his wife have sex, you couldn’t look either of Gabi’s parents in the eye, but you’d gotten over it once you lost your virginity. ‘So that’s what it’s like’ you thought once you were done and the boy you were with was in the bathroom.

Dinner was served relatively quickly as you all ordered and drank. Your father had another bourbon neat, and Miguel had a Manhattan, as Gabi and her boyfriend each had a few vodka sodas, and you just slipped on your little tequila drink. It was a special for that week or something and had some sort of juice that made it look blueish purple.

Once you all had a drink in your each, you’d all begun laughing and chatting louder and as the night went one, you’d had a few more.  The live band started and you swayed a bit at the music. When you turned your head, Miguel was looking at you already with his arm behind your chair. You blushed a bit, warm from the liquor in your veins as he chuckled.

“Drunk? I thought you could handle more than that.”

“No no, I don’t… I don’t like to drink too much, so I’m already pushing it.” You smiled and glanced at your dad, who just nodded in agreement.

“My little girl did not get the drinking gene.” He added and sipped the bourbon he had. Gabi laughed and spoke up.

“Should’ve seen her in Miami on Spring Break! She was so drunk, she was dragging strangers to dance with her-“

“Gabi!” You chimed in and glanced at your father and  Miguel, the men laughing at your embarrassment.

“You’re a great dancer, even drunk!” She added and her boyfriend smiled at the memory as well. “How about we dance?” He nodded and pulled her hand to dance to the live music, enjoying the soft singing of the Hispanic music. You glanced at the dance floor and saw all couples, where Gabi now stood with her loving boyfriend.

“Go, find a partner!” You dad added and you shook your head. “Come on! A professional dancer who won’t dance alone?” He teased and you smiled again, just ignoring the comment.

“Here, I’ll dance with you.” Miguel stood and reached for your hand. You froze once more for that moment and nodded. “That way, you can still dance and not be alone.” He smiled wider and pulled you up, walking with you to the dance floor. You stood in front of him and heard the next song begin. Preciosa by Marc Anthony began and the beat made you move your hips gently, as he held your hands and followed your movements.

“They didn’t teach Latin dancing to you, did they?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice. You looked up with a small ‘no’ and he chuckled, moving you in close to his chest and putting one leg in between yours. “Follow my lead, and loosen your hips. No ballet here, amor.” The roll of his tongue on the ‘r’ made your hips stutter in their movement. You’d never been so nervous to dance. He held one hand up and placed the other hand around your waist, swiveling you and twirling you both as he moved with precision and ease across the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone around you, but you couldn’t care. This was a moment you knew you’d waited your whole life for, and this was probably as close as you’d get to being with Miguel, so you’d ignore everyone and enjoy it while it lasted. A smile tugged at your features and you let him lead you. He even lifted you at one point like you were nothing but a piece of paper, a feather.

When that song ended, Vivir Mi Vida played and the tempo became faster, making you both continue with hast and creating a bit of sweat on both of you. He took control of the dance and spun you around the dance floor, making sure no one got in either of your ways as you laughed with glee.

The night moved in a blur as you and Miguel moved like a couple who’d been together for years, two who moved as one.  A slow song played and the strum of the guitar moved your bodies close, making you lean back and forth intimately against each other. The song ended and you both realized there was very few people left in what once was a bustling restaurant, and when you turned back to your table, your father was handing the bill to the waiter. Miguel stopped and walked back.

“I told you I was taking care of it tonight.” He caught your dad’s wrist and took the check, replacing your father’s credit card with his, and giving it back to the poor confused server. They hurried away as your dad shook his head.

“Couldn’t let me have that, O’Hara? You and Gabi came to support my little girl, and you even swept her onto the dance floor and made her smile. Least I can do is buy ya dinner.” He laughed and Miguel smiled.

“Not a chance. She’s been a wonderful friend to Gabriella for years, and she’s like my own mija. Let me treat you all and celebrate her.”

The words echoed in your mind and broke down your wonderful night.

His mija? As in… his own daughter?

You cursed yourself silently and painting a fake smile onto your lips as you all got up to leave once he took back his card. Gabriella was speaking to you and rambling about the apartment her and her boyfriend were looking at tomorrow, but all you could hear was the white noise of your own thoughts crippling your ability to think.

You tossed and turned all night after hearing Miguel say those words and you pushed down the feelings you’d pretended were not there for years, as they threatened to roll over your being and blow through your eyes without grace. How could you let yourself think anything like that again?

A few weeks later and you sat with Gabi in her backyard, tanning in the chairs by her pool as you both heard a low “I’m home,” from inside. The back door swung open and you saw Mr. O’Hara standing there. He was silent for a moment before getting a bit irritated. “What the hell are you two wearing?” He barked, angered.

Gabi shrunk back. “Dad, what are you talking about? They’re just bikinis!” She tried to call him down, but he seemed to get even worse.

“Just- those aren’t even bikinis, those- that’s less than underwear, you both might as well be wearing nothing!” He yelled in upset, like a lion roaring in pain.

“Maybe I should just go.” You mumbled and his eyes snapped to you. Uh oh…

“Not a chance. Yours is worse than hers! You look naked!” He stepped towards you and instinctively you took a step back, behind the lawn chair.

“M-Mr O’Hara, no one can see us. We’re in your backyard.” You spoke carefully, trying to make it better. “So no one even saw us, right? We'll change.” You nodded, obediently as you grabbed Gabi’s hand and slipped back into the house, hearing him grumble to himself as you passed him.

“I’ve never seen him talk to us like that.” Gabi spoke, putting on a t-shirt. She sighed and pulled her hair up. “Not even when I had that hickey sophomore year!”

“Maybe he just had a rough day and that was the last straw?” You hadn’t changed yet, staring at yourself in the bikini in the mirror. It really wasn’t terrible, maybe a bit more of a cheeky back than a full one, the straps of your bikini fairly thin. Just a regular red triangle bikini. Maybe you’d just gained weight? You huffed, “my bag is downstairs with my clothes, I’m gonna go grab it.”

“Do you wanna just borrow a shirt?”

“I mean, maybe. Anything baggy, so he doesn’t freak out again?” You asked and glanced at her hamper of clean clothes.

“Yeah, grab whatever.” She waved you off and you reached in, grabbing a large t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts. “I’m gonna go start making some dinner, come down when you’re done changing to help.” She spoke and walked out of the room. You sighed and pushed your hair behind your ears, sitting on her bed and holding the discarded bikini. Was he really upset? Well, maybe he was since he saw you as his own daughter. You begrudgingly got up and walked down the hall, passing by his office and spotting him.

“Come in here.” His tone was sharp, almost nerve wracking. You followed the voice and saw him with his arms folded over his chest, an irritated glare in his eyes. “I’m disappointed in both of you for thinking something like that is appropriate to wear.”

“Mr. O’Hara, we weren’t out in public, and no one else was around!” You answered, regretting your decision to stand up for yourself, as you notice the look in his eyes and realize you’re just digging your own grave.

“So you two weren’t taking a snapchat in those outfits? No videos or TikToks?” He asked, making you bite your tongue and avoid laughing at hearing him say that stuff.

“Maybe one tiktok…” You trail off and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, we didn’t post it, and I can delete it.” You justified and he nodded, concern still etched into his beautiful face. You take out your phone and as you begin to delete the video, his eyes narrow.

“...are those my clothes?” His head cocked to the side like a confused dog and you looked down, just as curious to see what he was talking about.

“No, they were in Gabi’s clean clothes.”

“Well, that’s my t-shirt from high school and those are my workout shorts.” His words made you quiet, forgetting about deleting the video. You blushed a bit and immediately starting searching for your bag, making a bee-line for the living room. “Oh my god, I’ll go change, I’m so sorry.” You rambled some flustered apologies before he could say anything else and ran off to the bathroom with the bag on your shoulder. Locking the door, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Could today get any worse? You leaned your head against the wall and kept your eyes shut, then took your clothing off once more to change into the clothes that actually belonged to you.

Tugging your skirt down to a suitable length incase Mr. O’Hara decided to berate your fashion choices once more, you glanced at something on the floor. It was another shirt of his, this time obvious by how large this one was, and the smell.

It was definitely something he’d just worked out in, having a particular musk to it, and the smell of his aftershave and body wash. It was him to a tee, and something in your body lit on fire just from the scent.

Without a second thought, you stuffed the shirt in your bag and exited the bathroom.

That night was filled with stifled moans and bitten knuckles as you quieted yourself while using your vibrator. His shirt stayed stationed in the hand you were biting down on, smelling his scent while you touched yourself until you were seeing stars and having trouble remembering your own name.

You hid that shirt the next day, stuffing it behind your pillows for safe keeping.

A day later, Miguel and Gabi had come over to watch some sport together. You’d never really been interested in sports unless Gabi was playing, but you enjoyed the company, so you often cooked for them all while they enjoyed the show. You mixed the guacamole as you heard someone walk into the kitchen behind you.

“Smells great.” Miguel spoke as he opened the fridge.

“Homemade chips, for the guac.” You nodded, still somewhat keeping it short with him after the prior day’s events.

“You can’t still be mad, right?” He asked and you turned to him fully, pausing the work on the mashed avocado and staring at him. He was holding two beers.

“I was never mad, but I still don’t get it.” You shrugged, “it just didn’t really seem like a big deal.”

“Really?” He seemed to get a little upset at that, placing the beers down and leaning on the kitchen island. “Because I think it was a huge deal. You’re barely an adult, you can’t be dressed like-”

“Like what? A woman? It was a bikini, it’s not like I was standing on the corner!”

“Watch how you talk to me.” He got cold and serious and your temper was flaring up.

“Why should I? You’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so you don’t get to tell me how to dress.” You shot back and he was quiet for a second. This prompted you to continue your winning streak. “And I don’t think you get to tell me what’s appropriate in front of people.”

“What are you talking about?” He hissed, taking a small step closer to you. “You don’t remember? When I caught you fucking on your kitchen counter? Cause I remember. Vividly.” You jabbed back and his eyes widened, the anger on your face apparent. Without another word, you stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your bedroom, slamming the door and sitting on your bed.

You shouldn’t have brought that up, you knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it. Who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do? He was just your friend’s dad, he had no right to yell at you about how you dressed or what you did. It wasn’t his place.

“Honey?” Your dad said from outside your door and you got up, opening it for him. “Miguel told me that he upset you, so I told him that he and Gabi should go home for the night so I could talk to my little girl.” Your dad always called you ‘his little girl,’ no matter how old you got. Tears started welling in your eyes, and you didn't know why, but you started crying into your father’s chest. He hugged you in a tight embrace as you continued to let out the tears you didn’t know you were holding in.

Some time went on and after about a week, you’d gone to Gabi's childhood home to hang out and watch a movie while Miguel was out. It was perfect. You didn’t have to see him and you could have some one-on-one time with Gabi.

Until she fell asleep halfway through the movie. You sighed, getting up and getting a glass of water. The week had been stressful. Every free second you had, you were touching yourself to Miguel’s shirt, tracing your clit, biting your lip to avoid making sounds. Even just the memory of his smell made your knees wobble a bit and you held onto the fridge handle a bit tighter while getting the water. The front door opening signaled you that he was now home. Time to leave as fast as possible, you thought to yourself, and placed the full cup of water in the sink.

Before you could walk out of the kitchen, Miguel was in the doorway staring down at you. “I just got off the phone with your father.” His voice was monotone, which wasn’t abnormal.

“You can tell him I’ll be home soon.”

“Well, he had a few questions for me. About you.” He spoke and something was off about how he was speaking. Was he… taunting you?

You finally met his eyes and you were right, something was off.

“He said the cleaning lady found a man’s shirt in your bedroom.” Your heart dropped. No no no no!

“Oh.” Was all you could muster up as he watched your reaction. “He asked if you and Gabi had any new boys around, any new friends. He said you randomly started crying the other day and he was worried you might be going through some sort of relationship that he’s unaware of. So?” He asked and you just clenched your jaw.

“Mr. O’Hara, that is none of your-”

“Say my name,” he demanded.

“What?” You questioned, taking a step backwards.

“Say my name. You want me to treat you like an adult? Say my name.”

“Fine. Miguel, that is none of your business.” You barked at him, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I think it is my business, though. Since it’s my shirt.” He announced and your eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. How did he-

“It was just so strange, how one of my shirts went missing, one I had been wearing the day I yelled at you about that bikini, and then suddenly your dad finds a shirt that matches the one I’m missing. Weird coincidence, hmm?” he folded his arms and you felt your body running cold. How could you steal from a genius and think he wouldn’t realize? “So let me get the facts in order. You watched me have sex in my kitchen, you stole my dirty clothing, and you pranced around my house in a skimpy bikini.” He spoke in a lower voice, as if he was just thinking out loud, and you noticed the look in his eyes was becoming hungry.

“Y-Yes ok I did that, I’m sorry. Don’t tell anyone it was yours!” You begged and he chuckled at you, looking to the side.

“I’m not telling anyone anything, but I have a question.” He paused and brought his thumb to his lip, as if thinking about something he was trying to word correctly. “What were you doing with my shirt?”

Your blood ran cold, the sound of your heart beating in your ears too loud to even think. He… wanted you to say it. Heat began to rise up your neck and cover your cheeks and ears with a tint of red.

“C’mon, say it.” His lips twitched to a smirk and you squeezed your legs together at the view you had of him. Dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, belt around those slim hips, slacks tight in all the right places from how muscular his thighs were.

Embarrassment filled your head as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and as you lifted them up his body, red rubies claimed your sight like they owned you.

“I-I… thought about you.”

“Be specific, amorcita, what about me?” He moved forward and tilted your chin up to keep eye contact with him as you spoke.

You gulped and closed your eyes, too humiliated to say what you were about to while seeing his face. “I thought of you and I having sex… touching me and stuff.”

“Eyes on me, mi corazon.” You opened your eyes and he was bent down to where he could kiss you. His breath smelled like mint. “Tell me more.”

“I imagined you on top of me, b-behind me… kissing me.” You trailed off as his lips ghosted over yours, then smiling and crashing together like a crescendo of a symphony. His hands gripped the sides of your body, picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

“You thought of me touching you here?” His hand trailed down your torso towards the front of your jean shorts, tracing where your pussy sat, hot and waiting. Your breath hitched as you nodded, and he smirked again. He liked the effect he had on you, it was obvious.

“Words, mi amor.”

“Yes, Miguel, please.” You spoke, your words shaky as he laughed at your shyness. “Where was that attitude from before? All that sass?” He whispered against your ear as he unzipped your jean shorts, pulling down the material to expose you more to him. His fingers rubbed against the lacy fabric of your panties, and you lost your mind for a minute, panting a bit just from the slight contact. “You’re that sensitive? Just from a little touching?” He purred and yanked your panties off as well, your naked core against the chill of the air sending a shiver up your spine. “Where’d all that shit you were talking from the other day go?”

“Miguel,” You beg and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotta open you up first, Princessa.” His words were low and rumbled in your body as he gave you pet names.

A finger slipped into you without issue, and your back arched into his chest as he massaged your thigh with the other hand. A moan erupted in your throat and he quickly took the hand on your thigh to cover your mouth. “Shhh, we can’t have Gabi finding us like this, right?” You nodded and practically saw your eyes cross as he pushed in another finger, beginning to feel full with just the two digits. He worked them back and forth in you as he placed soft kisses against your throat. Your whole body jolted, like an electric current was rolling throughout your body.

His fingers began to curl against that spongy spot that had you rolling your eyes back, letting out more muffled sounds against his other hand, his eyes hooded and watching you through his thick lashes. Like a predator, he moved them faster and you felt yourself about to teeter over the edge. His thumb brushed against your clit and you were sent into a full earth-shattering orgasm, gripping his shoulder for stability as he let you ride his fingers through it.

“Preciosa…” he mumbled and unzippered the dress pants, pulling himself out and watching your face change from blissed out to fearful. “Don’t worry, I’ll go slow…” he whispered and lined himself up. Pulling you to the edge of the counter, he pushed the tip into you and you closed your eyes, feeling the stretch of his size already. He moved slowly as you adjusted and once he was fully in, you hissed a bit. You both were completely breathless, like two wild beasts waiting to see who would make the first deadly move. “Look at me while I fuck you good, I want to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” Keeping eye contact, he moved his thumb back on your clit, making you shake a bit and let out pretty little sounds again. He started to move at this, feeling so good and overwhelmingly full. It was as if you’d been speared onto something, he was impaling himself into you and you loved every second. You began to thrust back against him and he practically lost it then and there, watching you frantically chase your own high making him almost feral. He yanked you off of the counter top, flipping you over and pushing you down flat against it. Shoving himself back inside of you, he began a relentless pace, bruising your cervix over and over. As you got louder, he pulled your hair back to make you arch against his chest.

“Yeah? You like how I ruin you?” He taunted, slamming into you from behind and causing the sound of skin slapping skin to echo across the room. “This pussy is mine.” He growled and gave your clit a gentle slap, making you practically scream out.

“M-Miguel…!” You were panting from how he’d made you so breathless, so overwhelmed by him.

“Be quiet, or do you want Gabi to know you’re a slut for me? That you love when I fuck you better than anyone ever could.” He went on and you nodded along. He was right. He’d ruined you for any other man. You’d never be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them to him.

“That’s right, amorcita, moan for me.” He egged you on as he bottomed out once more, making your legs shake. He lifted one of your knees to lean on the counter beside you and pounded into you from a new, deeper angle, giving you chills. That was it, that new spot he’d found made you come around him instantly, muscles tightening from the orgasm. You felt someone warm fill you, and realized he had finished as well. Grabbing your face harshly, he pulled your face sideways to give you a rough kiss as he kept himself inside of you for a few more moments.

You gasped for air as you felt him slip out of you, his seed dripping down your leg a bit and making you hyper aware of what just happened. You both stood, half dressed and heaving in silence. Your eyes found his, and everything hit you all at once. Grabbing your underwear and jean shorts off of the ground, you rushed out of the kitchen and began getting dressed as you walked.

“Wait-” He called out and yelled your name, but you were fast and he was still tucking himself back into his pants. As you reached the door, there was a knock and you buttoned your shorts as you swung open the door.

A nicely dressed woman, beautiful and tall, stood there holding a jacket. The two of you stared at each other for a second before she looked past you and smiled.

“Ah, Miguel! I realized you left your jacket in my car.” She spoke, then looked down at you. “Is this your daughter?”

Tears built up in your eyes and you looked back at Miguel, shocked.

“You were on a date?” Your words could’ve been poisonous with how you spoke to him, because they stung him terribly. His mouth was parted, still in shock.

You’d had enough. Your body pushed past the woman’s and you ran down the street to your home, only a few blocks away. It wasn’t your apartment, but your dad should be home and you could just tell him you didn’t want to talk about it. He never pushed you.

Knocking on the door, he opened it and immediately was afraid.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to stay here tonight, ok?” You spoke and he nodded, hugging your crying frame. Tonight had been too much to think about, and as he walked you in, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. You trudged off to your bed and fell asleep.

Part 2

[good-beansdraws]

Making a full post for my Fuuta Ballet AU because I actually had more thoughts about it hehe (Ballerina Girl)

+ a version of the au that's more general to the whole cast, with Es as the protag here!

As mentioned in the art, he��s exactly the same as canon except his life now revolves around dance. He’s in a very cliquey company (The Dark Pas de Trois?), surrounded by friends who are very similar-minded. Even though they're not in dance competitions specifically, they're constantly striving for better reviews/reputations than the neighboring companies. Fuuta struggles with stage fright, but doesn't let on to the others -- he just pushes through every time.

They visit a company rehearsing Nutcracker, and one of the snowflake dancers does something problematic backstage. Fuuta blasts him on social media for it, gaining popularity for his own account/dance company. Auditions and things go a bit smoother for them now that they’re internet famous.

There’s a scandal with the dancer playing the demon sorcerer Rothbart in Swan Lake, and Fuuta catches it on film. The video goes viral, once again boosting Fuuta’s popularity and ego. He’s praised as both a hero and talented performer. His friends are also soaring with this newfound fame.

Then, he catches a young background dancer in Sleeping Beauty doing something he deems worthy of a callout. He exposes her all over his social media. Rather than the usual social backlash, the girl is harassed in person. A crowd takes things too far, and an accident results in an injury that ends her career just as it was beginning. She will never dance again.

Facing his suspicious friends (and overcome with his own guilt), Fuuta flees the company. He plans on quitting dance for the rest of his life as well. Instead, he gets a mysterious invitation to the Milgram Dance Academy. He's never heard of them before, and the internet doesn't turn up much on them. Left with few other choices, he shows up for the first lesson.

The first thing that strikes him is it's a boarding school. He must live there and follow their rules in order to attend. They take his phone and restrict outside contact, much to his horror. The school solely focused on the arts -- no competitions, no big shows. There are three major shows they are planning, but Fuuta couldn't find any venues/tickets/advertisements, despite mention of a "global audience". The program is rigorous, and the instructor decides at the end of each semester if their final performance passes or fails.

The only thing more concerning than the sudden restriction of his phone is the strange group of residents he'll be spending his next few years with. His instructor is a mere child, no more than fifteen and very cryptic about their past training. His other classmates range in age and personality. He starts off dancing just as confident as usual, trying to show up the other students and make a strong first impression.

However, he fails the first semester. The grade list is made public to the whole academy, and Fuuta finds himself the subject of watching eyes and condescending whispers. Becoming sensitive to prying stares and audiences, he falls back into his usual stage fright. He endures (emotional) attacks from the passed students, although in his distraction he screws up some cues and gets injured.

Regarding the actual choreography -- as much as I love the classic shows (I mean, just look how cute he is as the nutcracker ;-;) my brain has been going brrrrr picturing ballet adaptations of the mvs... 🎹 / 🎹 / 🎹 / 🎹

[underoossss]

the way you move - s.h. - part 4

pairing: ballerina!reader x jock!steve harrington

warnings: none, just two pining idiots

1.6 words

an: sorry this took longer than I thought but we’re getting so close to the ending I’m so excited for lol these two need to stop dancing around each other and KISS but we’ll get there soon enough.

part 3

✶✶✶✶

The sound of conversation and scraping cutlery floats around you along with the classic smell of fresh fries. The booth’s leather is shiny under the fluorescent lights and the cozy spot at the far side of the diner gives you the perfect view of the street outside through chilled glass and the customers talking by the register to the left. It’s warm, lively, and comfortable; you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect evening. Especially with your friends around you and the setting sun outside. Steve’s basketball team won their game tonight against the visitor team, so naturally you’re celebrating his victory with a greasy dinner before going to the cinema.

Robin and Nancy sit close to each other in the booth in front of you, looking happy and excited as they ask question after question. Steve sits next to you, his arm above your shoulder as it rests on the booth behind you, drawing you closer to him by the maddening yet fain smell of his cologne. As if your feelings aren’t enough, he had to flood your senses by proximity too.

To anyone walking by it, the scene at the table would look like a double date, but you know in your heart that it’s not. The reality is simple, no matter how much you want him to be, Steve isn’t your boyfriend. Lately you don’t really know what he is exactly, with how much affection he shows you and the way it has increased in doses since last Saturday. Friends don’t hold each other like he did, maybe best friends do, but they definitely don’t wipe your tears away or kiss your forehead as tenderly as Steve had. Yet he hasn’t said anything that may hint he wants to be something more, leaving you wondering if it’s all in your head. You really hope not.

Robin’s laughter makes your mind go back to the present, and if you subconsciously lean closer to Steve you pretend to not notice. Your two friends in front of you arrived from New York in the morning to visit their family and see Steve’s basketball game, and to show they are the epitome of a perfect couple. They balance each other out, and together they’ve become the best version of themselves; not to mention their new life in the city has suited them well. They don’t want to talk much about that yet though, instead asking question after question about Steve’s certificate, your university classes, and ballet. They want to catch up as much as they can before they leave on a redeye tomorrow, which seems fair as you’re now many miles away.

When you first met Robin and Nancy, you’d been apprehensive and frankly very scared. You knew how much Steve cared about them, so you wanted to get along with them because you cared so much about Steve. It’s something they seemed to notice right away, and all the pieces fell perfectly into place. You built a good dynamic before they left for New York shortly after you met them, and it’s been only you and Steve in Indianapolis ever since –except for the long phone calls the four of you share now and then.

“So, practice for the play is going well?” Nancy asks, stealing some of Robin’s strawberry milkshake. “We haven’t heard anything new since you told us auditions would be opening soon for the Nutcracker.”

You inevitably get teary-eyed but shake your head and the bittersweet feeling away. No reason to still be hung up about that. “I didn’t get the part I wanted but it’s going really well.”

“Oh no,” Robin’s shoulders sag as a shocked look comes across her face. Her and Steve exchange a look that can only mean Is she okay, so you hurry to speak again. The last thing you want is to rehash the ugly feelings from last week.

“It’s all good though, the girls that I’m dancing with are really nice.” You stress, hoping to reassure Robin. “I’m getting the costume fitted tomorrow, I’m excited.”

Nancy frowns and looks at Robin, like they know your optimism isn’t 100% genuine. “We’re sorry you didn’t get to be the lead, though.” She says reaching out and squeezing you hand. “We’ll try to come see the play, I think some of our classmates are driving through here for Christmas.”

“Who got it instead.” Robin asks, not helping herself and looking around. But there are no ballet dancers around you, so you shrug and give her the name.

“Ugh, Agatha.” Steve says with distaste. “Not only is she rude to you, she got the role.”

You chuckle at Steve’s petty tone and look up at him briefly, love bubbling under your skin. “Stevie, it’s okay.” He rubs your arm up and down in response and pulls you close to his side as you turn towards Nancy and Robin again. “Thanks guys but I’ve made peace with it. Stevie says he’s gonna tell everyone I’m the lead.”

Robin snorts and Nancy rolls her eyes, “Yeah, that sounds like you, dingus.”

“She’s gonna be so good they’ll think she’s the lead anyway. We have to cheer really loud and everyone will believe us.” Steve’s voice is so full of confidence you can image the beautiful smile on his face as his eyes burn the side of your face.

Nancy shakes her head, trying to understand Steve’s logic and it makes you laugh, which seems to be what Steve was aiming for. You look up at him in wonder for a second, feeling affection run through your veins and flooding you whole body just by looking at him. Even in the fluorescent lights his cheeks have their characteristic rosy color, and his eyes look as beautiful as ever, especially with the dark green sweater he’s wearing that makes them pop. Then he goes and makes the feeling worse by smiling and sending a knee weakening wink your way.

You’re grateful when he looks away after a second, glad that he gives your heart a time out. There’s only so much yearning it can take. A moment later of staring at his profile, you risk a look back at your friends only to regret it instantly. Nancy is giving you a knowing look that you don’t have time to ignore because a server arrives with your orders. Thankful beyond words for the interruption, you say “Okay, we can officially celebrate Stevie’s win.”

The four of you keep talking between mouthfuls of burgers and chicken strips you make everyone swear not to tell Madame Laverne about. Nancy and Robin finally start answering your own questions about their journaling and creative writing programs in the big city. They indulge you with funny stories their roommates have dragged them into, retelling their hunt for the best yet cheapest coffee shop, and all the odd places where they’ve found rats. Food gone and sky darkening 45 minutes later, Steve stands up and insists on paying the bill.

You knew it would happen but startle anyway when Robin leans close and ambushes you with questions. “What is going on here? Do you have some news you have to tell us?”

 “No?” Your answer sounds more like a question to your ears after you urge Robin to keep quiet.

Nancy rolls her eyes in both exasperation and fondness. “Honey you both look like lovesick puppies, it’s like you’re going to kiss any second now.”

“You’re one to talk, when I met you both…”

“We were already together, which is why I need to know if you’ve told Steve yet!” Robin whispers, eyebrows doing acrobatics in anticipation to your answer. “I swear he looks like he’ll die if he can’t kiss you soon.”

You look away and chuckle awkwardly as your entire body lights up at the idea. “I mean you know how I feel so I wouldn’t complain if that happened. But no, I haven’t told him.” Your two friends had spotted you crush on Steve from miles away upon your first meeting. The teasing is incessant but you’re grateful for their support –and discretion.

“But if you feel that way, why don’t you make it happen?” Robin insists, sinking back into the red booth in defeat. “It’s so clear that Steve’s in love with you.”

You go to deny her statement but stop short when you see Steve approach. He smiles at you when he catches your eye and makes your heart stall inside your chest then start back up ten times quicker than before. Still, despite the nervous frenzy you’re in, you smile inevitably because… Steve makes you happy beyond words and you know how worried he’s been ever since you didn’t get your dream role, there’s nothing you want more than to put him at ease. You’re with him, of course you’re okay.

“Ready to go, beautiful?” Steve asks you then looks at his friends, “We’re going to miss the movie if we don’t leave.”

When all of you nod to agree he extends his hands and helps you out of the booth, his warm touch making electricity course from your point of contact to your heart. Even more so when he pulls you close to his side once outside in the winter night. “You sure you don’t want my jacket? It’s colder than usual tonight.”

You look up at Steve, smiling softly at his ever-present caring nature. “Everything’s perfect right now.” Your voice is light and gives away your emotion, and it makes Steve smile once more.

“Let me know, though.” He says and you can only nod, leaning your head on his shoulder until you get to his car.

 What if Robin is right? What if you can just lean up and kiss Steve and feel him kiss you back immediately? But what if you’re all wrong and it ends your friendship? No, you can’t do that until you’re certain Steve feels the same way. But how will you know?

✶✶✶✶

part 5

reblogs are super appreciated

masterlist

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Rooster’s Ballerina 🩰 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw Headcanon

Link to my TGM Masterlist

Rooster dating a professional ballerina would look like:

Majoring in dance at UVA, you met Rooster when he and some of his buddies decided to attend the university’s annual ballet rendition of “The Nutcracker,” their senior year because his friend was dating a dance student. You played the Sugar Plum Fairy & to be honest, Rooster was close to falling asleep until it his eyes landed on you, captivating the future pilot during your solo. Rooster could not keep his eyes off of you, leaning toward is friend to ask, “who’s she?” His friend replied, “oh that’s, Y/n L/n. She’s a junior I believe—and word on the street is the New York City Ballet Company has their eyes on her for when she graduates.” Rooster didn’t have to be a dancer to know that was a big deal, just the way his friend said it was enough to figure out the company was the best of the best. Kinda like how Top Gun was the best of the best for fighter pilots.

Your talent for the art of ballet was evident right from the moment you stepped foot in a ballet studio. So much so that your parents homeschooled you up until high school so you could dedicate all your time and energy into ballet. At one point you got the chance to audition for Juliard, but an injury to your ankle resulted in you having to miss out. Thankfully UVA had sent a scout to your hometown after your instructor emailed a bunch of universities to come see you perform when you were healed, and they offered you a full ride under their program.

After the show ended, Rooster couldn’t get you out of his mind. Even when he left to his apartment and throughout winter break, he often thought of you and the way you glided across the stage. The sparkles of your outfit shined against the light, pulling in everyone’s attention. Smile bright and eyes glowing, you were like a siren luring him in, moving so effortlessly Rooster never wanted you to stop. He could watch you dance forever.

Spring semester came around and Rooster couldn’t believe his luck when you were standing behind him in the Starbucks early one morning. Feeling bold, he whispered to the cashier, “this is to cover the lady behind me,” handing over an extra $10 bill on top of the payment for his order. The cashier gave a knowing look, Bradley moving to the side to wait for his coffee and trying (but failing) to not watch your reaction. A smirk had already made its way onto his face when you strolled up, “i don’t know if I should feel flattered or offended that you payed for my drink, Mr…..” “Bradley Bradshaw.” “Well, Bradley, care to explain why over our cups of coffee?”

Basically Rooster came clean to you saying he was the friend of your classmates boyfriend and saw you perform at the winter recital. “I’m sorry if you find it weird, but when I recognized you in line….I felt drawn to you. I just would love to get to know you better if you’d let me.” Needless to say that unintentional coffee date was the beginning of your love story with Bradley. You two were inseparable after that, falling in love each day and knowing you two were each other’s soulmate.

You attended his graduation and commission ceremonies and Bradley went to every recital/show you were in. Sometimes he’d pick you up from practice and would just watch you with absolute awe, other times he’d ask to lift you just for the hell of it. Always bringing you snacks, Bradley would scold you if you missed a meal because you were in a hurry or had a busy day and forgot. “Babydoll you gotta be fed before you train otherwise you’ll be tired quicker and feeling like crap.” You weren’t on a diet or anything so sometimes he’d bring you fast food or pick up a sandwich/salad at a grocery store just so you has some food in you.

Bradley was so supportive of you, and you were of him. A difficult time in your relationship was having to be long distance for about three years after you graduated. Bradley was finished with flight school, now an active duty naval fighter pilot which had him bouncing between bases whenever an assignment came up. You were recruited to the New York City Ballet Company, a dream of yours since beginning ballet, and was not going to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime. That meant you would be living in New York, while Bradley could end up who knows where. Thankfully his first duty station was on the east coast so he got to visit you a lot. And Rooster never missed a show—especially when you were the lead role. He was your biggest fan, giving you a standing ovation when no else would. “You were incredible, babydoll. The best ballerina out there—I’m so proud of you.”

Rooster is the type of guy who would have your picture on his desk/nightstand. The one at work is you during your performance of Swan Lake, which he loves to brag about when coworkers point it out. “Oh that’s my ballerina. She’s amazing—the best in the country.” On his nightstand is a black and white photo of you during practice up on arabesque, smiling at the camera. It’s one of his favorites and also keeps it as his screensaver.

After doing some time with the NYC Ballet Company, you wanted to be closer to Rooster, satisfied you lived your dream of dancing with the best dance company in the country, and had the honor of being the lead in Swan Lake & Gisele, while also being the Sugar Plum Fairy and Snow Queen in The Nutcracker. There were plenty of other dance companies in the country, plus you always dreamed of opening your own dance studio—but that would come once Rooster retires and you two found a place to settle.

So, after you left the NYC Ballet Company you and Rooster got married after 5 years of dating and you followed him wherever he went. When he went to San Diego for Top Gun, you found a studio where the owner allowed you to practice free of charge if you helped teach the students. Of course you agreed and it just reaffirmed your dream of opening your own studio. The kids were so amazing and you loved sharing the art of ballet with them. Many asked for you to tell stories of your time in New York & asked you to dance for them after their lessons concluded. “What’s your favorite ballet, Miss. Y/n?” “Oh that is difficult to answer. I love all of them, but my absolute favorite of all time is Swan Lake.”

After several years of traveling with Rooster, he could tell you were longing to be part of a company again. So when the orders came he was assigned to the Strike Fighter Squadron 87 at NAS Oceana, he looked to the skies and thanked whoever above because it meant you could go back to New York & he would be in Virginia again. You nearly cried when he told you, especially when he encouraged to audition again, “really? You’re sure you wont mind? I know we talked about—.” “Baby, you’ve spent your whole life wanting to dance for them—you left once to support me, now i’m going to support you. We survived doing three years of it, we can do it again and I will be at every show cheering you on.”

Rooster kept his promise. You couldn’t believe the company accepted you back again, especially after so many years had passed and you weren’t 22-24 anymore. You were now pushing early thirties—but still danced like you did in college. A lot of the younger girls and guys looked up to you, asking for advice or a second opinion on where improvement was needed. Every Friday night Rooster was leaving Virginia for New York & would stay the entire weekend. You two would always explore, go on dates, and Rooster would even sit in on your afternoon practice—-which the younger girls would get flustered much to your amusement. “Your husband is very handsome, Y/n.” “I love how he’s so supportive of you. I wish my boyfriend was like that.” “Honey, if your man isn’t supportive of you and your career, then you deserve better.”

When Rooster was selected for the 2019 Top Gun special detachment, it had only been two years since you returned to NYC. Rooster encouraged you to stay, not wanting you to leave again after you’d been selected as the Sugar Plum Fairy once again for the upcoming performance of ‘The Nutcracker’. “It’s three weeks, Y/n. Before you know it I’ll be back. They wouldn’t have called me if they didn’t think I could get the job done.” “If they’re not telling you the details right now then it’s gotta be serious, Bradley. What if—what if I never you see you again. You’re my husband dammit—I’m not gonna sit here, on the other end of the country, worried out of my mind.”

In the end he won the argument, but on the condition he kept you updated with the details of the mission. FaceTimes were every night, with Rooster telling you on day one of training that Maverick was the instructor. You’d never met the man, meeting Bradley after their falling out, but had knowledge of all their history. When he told you Phoenix was there you had a sense of relief. Natasha was someone you could trust and would tell you if Rooster was hiding something. Worry filled you at the mention of Hangman being a candidate, well aware the pilot was a ‘every man for himself.’ You never formally met him, but the stories were enough for you to not trust him to have your husbands back.

Speaking of worry, you were worried to the point of throwing up when Rooster told you he was selected for the mission after confessing it was so high-risk, the higher up’s saw it as a suicide mission. Tears were shed over the phone, Rooster promising to come back to you. “I promise, baby, im gonna come home to you. I have to so I can watch you dance—I promised you all those years ago i would never miss a show.”

When he did return home, you nearly slapped him after he told you what he did. Disobeying orders to save Maverick and getting shot down. You were furious with him. “Were you out of your mind?! You could’ve fucking died, Bradley!!! What the hell were you thinking?!” “Mav told me not to think……”

A month later it was Christmas in New York. The night of the show you were backstage in your robe with hair and makeup done when the stage assistant said, “Mrs. Bradshaw, there’s some people here for you.” Following them out, your jaw dropped at the sight of the group standing in the backstage lounge. Rooster, Maverick and a group of gentleman—including Hangman—were dressed in their Dress Blues, each holding a red rose, and Phoenix wearing a gorgeous red gown. “Oh my gosh, what is this?!” You went to Rooster’s embrace, the man kissing your cheek to not mess up your lipstick. Taking the rose, you then greeted Nat—who also had a rose.

After the mission was a success, Rooster let it skip he was married when he said, “although I survived, I feel my wife is gonna kill me when I tell her what I did.” Immediately everyone—including Mav—was like, “Hold up, you got a wife?!” That then had an hour long monologue from Rooster basically telling y’all’s love story….and making it well known you were one of the best ballerinas in the country. “Damn, Bradshaw,” some said when he showed the program of the show you headlines. “Can I have some of that game you have?” The second he mentioned you had a performance coming up the squad was like, “looks like we’re going on a road-trip to see a ballet show.”

Introducing you to the squad, Bob, Fanboy, Hangman, Coyote, and Payback each shook your hand and presented the rose. You pretty much had a bouquet at that point with all of them together. “So nice to meet the lady who captured Bradshaw’s heart,” Hangman smiled, surprising you with how genuine he was. When you looked at Bradley, his nod signified he was cool with the pilot, so you welcomed Hangman with an open mind. Mav was really excited to meet you, shaking your hand while saying, “it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Y/n—.” You surprised the captain by pulling him into a hug, “thank you. Thank you for saving him.”

After some small talk and wishing you luck, you were called to dress and the audience was to take their seats. Rooster gave you a soft kiss, whispering, “you’re going to do amazing, baby. Good luck and dance your heart out.” Thanking him, you kissed him again and waved goodbye as the stage assistant ushered them to their seats.

Rooster wasn’t kidding when he told the squad you were one of best ballerinas in the country. You lived up to the reputation he had given you. Dancing to the music, the light bouncing off the sparkles of your outfit, they were captivated by you, just like Rooster was the first time he saw you dance. “Wow,” they all murmured during your solo. Hangman leaned into Coyote to whisper, “well there’s one thing for sure, if they have babies, they’re gonna be talented in whatever they do.”

It was deja vu for Rooster, coming full circle because once again he watched you as the Sugar Plum Fairy—only this time you were his wife and soulmate, not just the girl he admired and only knew by name. You were his ballerina.

……………..

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001

[wintersoldiersoul]

Twisted

Synopsis: You're a dancer and you get injured

Word count: 1,270

You watched yourself in the mirror in front of you, stretching your arm higher to make the perfect line. Carefully, you went up onto pointe, the pain immediately shooting through your ankle. You were no stranger to dancing with an injury. Being a professional ballerina, there was rarely a time that you weren’t injured. But it was different recovering from a broken ankle than a sprain. You had been out of commission for months. Technically, you shouldn’t even be attempting to go back on pointe yet but it was October and that meant Nutcracker season. 

Months of daily rehearsals and performances. You were determined to get at least a soloist role this year. It was your third year in the company and you were tired of being stuck in the corps-de-ballet. No. Not anymore. This year would be your year. Even with an injury. 

You pushed through the pain, drilling in the solo that you would be performing for your audition the next day. When you finally took a break and checked your phone, you realized it had been 2 hours. You had 5 missed texts and two missed calls from Bucky. He knew exactly where you were. And he knew it was a place you shouldn’t be without being fully recovered. 

Bucky: Baby you’re gonna make it worse.

Bucky: Come on, doll I don’t want to see you get hurt again.

Bucky: Please my love, just come home. 

Bucky: I know you can do whatever you want, but you know this isn’t smart. 

Bucky: I’m coming to get you. You’ve been there for too long already. 

The last text had been sent 20 minutes ago. You knew Bucky would arrive at the studio any minute. 

You didn’t let that stop you, though, as you clicked play on the music and ran through the solo two more times. You were about to start a third time when you heard the studio door open. Bucky walked towards you. 

“Buck, you can’t have shoes in the studio!” You exclaimed.

“And you can’t be dancing on a broken ankle.” He fired back. You pushed some stray hairs out of your face and behind your ears. You looked like a mess after dancing for so long. 

“I’m fine, okay? I feel fine.” You gritted your teeth and cursed as you took a step towards him.

“Yeah, babe. You seem really fine.” He wasn’t mad at you, just worried. He knew that you were smart and capable of making your own decisions but he had also been dating you long enough to know that ballet dancers don’t listen to logic. Or doctors. Especially during the most important time of the season. 

You looked into his eyes. They were pleading with you to stop, to just let him take you home. But you still hadn’t fully nailed the Fouette turns at the end of the variation. You just needed a little bit more time.

“One more run through. And then you can take me home, okay?”

Bucky wanted to fight you on it, but he knew there was no point. “Okay. One more time. That’s it. After that, I’m throwing you over my shoulder to take you out of here if I have to.” 

“You can sit in here but just don’t distract me, okay?”

He walked over to the corner and sat down. Bucky loved watching you dance. You were so light on your feet, making each step look so easy. He loved how happy and free you looked. But right now, he was terrified that something was going to go wrong. As much as he loved watching you dance, he hated seeing you injured which was pretty much always. 

You clicked play on the music and began the variation. The pain in your ankle was excruciating, causing each subtle movement to send a shooting pain that reverberated through your entire leg.

You made it through about half of the turns at the end when everything came crumbling down. Your bad ankle, the one you were turning on, gave out and rolled over itself. You let out a scream of agony as you fell to the ground, causing Bucky to run over to you.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

You couldn’t say anything in response. The pain was so bad that you just screamed and cried as he scooped you up in his arms. 

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Let’s get you home and get that ankle elevated with some ice, okay?” 

You nodded. “Sh-shoes. N-need to get out of the pointe shoes.” The tight boxes surrounding your feet weren’t helping the pain. 

“Okay baby, I’ll help you take them off.” He untied the one on your good ankle and reached for the other one. Even the slightest touch caused you to cry in agony. “I know baby, I’m sorry. But you’re right, you do need to get out of these shoes.” Without the constriction of the ribbons and elastic, you could see how truly swollen your ankle was. Bucky didn’t even bother trying to get you into your sneakers, knowing he was going to carry you to the car anyway. 

You cried the whole way home, half from the pain, and half from knowing that you would be completely out of dancing for months.

Bucky carried you into the house and carefully set you on the couch. He carefully helped you change out of your dancewear, audibly gasping when he took off your tights, revealing the true state of your ankle. It was twice the size of the other one, littered with black, blue, and purple. 

“Oh babe…” Bucky sighed. He too knew that you’d be out for a while. That you’d have to go months without doing the thing that made you the happiest.

He carried you back to the couch, settling your foot onto a pillow to keep it elevated. He got an ice pack from the freezer and set it around your ankle, trying to be as gentle as possible. Once it was settled, he snuck his body behind yours, letting your back fall against his chest. Your crying had subsided a bit, but you still were sniffling as smaller waves of tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“You were right. I should have just listened to you. Oh god, I’m so stupid!”

Bucky stroked your hair lovingly. “Hey, stop it. You’re not stupid. You’re determined. You’re passionate. You’re so incredibly strong and resilient. That’s why you were in that studio, okay? Because you have such an amazing work ethic and drive. Not because you’re stupid.”

You sniffled again. “I’m gonna be out for a while.”

“I know baby, I know,” he said, sadly. He felt just as awful about it as you did. “But it’s gonna be okay. You are so talented. You’re such a beautiful dancer and you have a natural gift. Take the time to let this heal now so that you can be even stronger next year.” 

You let your body fully relax against him and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“Get some rest, my love. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna make sure you get through this. And I’ll help you with physical therapy. And I’ll wait on you hand and foot, alright? Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You whispered, as you began to lose the fight against the exhaustion that was overtaking your body.

“I love you, too, Y/N. Just rest right now. It’s all gonna be okay.”

You felt him kiss your head softly before you let the sea of sleep overtake you.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

PROLOGUE

(Gif and photo of Michaela DePrince)

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This is my first fanfiction ever. I believe pacing and context is important in any story. This is going to be a slow burn. Hopefully this prologue gives you a little insight on who Diana Sinclair is separate from The Party.

I am a ballet dancer so there is a lot of dance terminology in this. I urge you all to look up some of these moves and positions.

Anywho, let me know what you all think!

Word Count: 1032

Masterlist

PROLOGUE || PART I ||

Sunday November 6, 1983 - BELOV DANCE ACADEMY

Piqué tour. Piqué tour. Upper body. Piqué tour and…double pirouette en dedans. 

“Beautiful, Diana.” Madame Petrovna praises over the melodic rhythm. 

My cheeks grow hot and I continue to dance breathing deeply through my nose. I prepare myself for the hardest move: the Gargouillade. I still didn’t quite understand it, but let my body guide me through the movement. Extending my right foot dégagé to the side, rotating my leg in a small rond de jambe, while pushing off the floor with my left leg to do another rond de jambe with my left foot. 

“And jump!” Madame Petrovna exclaims. “Yes, yes.” 

I perform the gargouillade again, wincing slightly at the second rond de jambe. I didn’t circle my foot completely. 

“Don’t show me you’re tired, Diana. This move is supposed to look effortless.” 

I force myself to smile to hide my disappointment. Soutenu, soutenu, step, step. Double pirouette down to the knee and pose. 

“Good. Very Good girls.” Madam Petrovna says, clapping her hands in her poised manner. Which meant we could do better. “Waltz of the Flowers to the stage please.”  

We all curtsy before running off stage. As soon as my body disappears beyond the curtain, I deflate wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. My cheeks burn from exertion. The Dance of Marzipan was a little over two minutes long but it was one of the hardest dances in The Nutcracker Showcase as lead. 

The Waltz of the Flowers orchestration begin shortly after and I watch the performance quietly on my own, swaying from side-to-side en pointe, the malleable shank of my pointe shoes bending with the arches of my feet with each shift in weight. I need to start breaking in my other pair of pointe shoes mom bought for me two weeks ago. These were dead. I glance at my wristwatch. 7:00pm. I sigh, exhaustion weighing down on me. We’re running late as usual. 

“You’re doing great,” a voice whispers near my ear. 

I whip around, clutching my necklace. 

 “Sorry for scaring you!” Mei Wong says. 

Mei Wong is the Sugar Plum Fairy in the annual showcase of The Nutcracker at Belov Dance Academy. She’s also a senior at Hawkins High, most of the girls at the Academy are. I didn’t talk to her or anyone much, my shyness getting the best of me. I always had Nancy until she quit last year. Mom says I need to “put myself out there more” and make new friends at the Academy. The proposition sounded like a death sentence. 

I sigh in relief, revealing a small smile. “It’s okay.” 

“I just wanted to say, you did so well in your routine. I think Madame Petrovna made a great choice picking you to be lead.” 

The audition process for lead was grueling and downright nasty. The girls at the Academy were extremely competitive and I didn’t have a competitive bone in my body, choosing to have fun and enjoy the experience. It didn’t mean I wanted the part less than the other girls. Deep down, I really wanted it and practiced every day after school until the auditions with help from Nancy, Barbara and mom on technique and presentation. The voice at the back of my mind constantly nit-picked my skills. Taunting me with cruel words and insecure thoughts. You’re too short. You’re not good enough. You can’t dance. You will never be like Mei Wong or Sophie Miller. If it weren’t for Nancy, I would’ve made up an excuse to not audition. 

Two weeks later in the front room of the Academy, I held my head high as I walked to the bulletin board and saw my name across Lead Marzipan. 

“Thank you,” I say. “It means a lot coming from you.” 

“Don’t thank me, you deserve it. Have you ever thought about Juilliard?” 

Juilliard? Last month, Madame Petrovna announced that Mei Wong applied for Juilliard. That was huge for us small-towners. Unheard of even. Juilliard was Emerald City to us at Belov Dance Academy. A place where hopes and dreams can come true. 

I shake my head, toying with my pendant. “No.” 

“I think you should. I can definitely see you going there.” 

I blink unable to comprehend what I heard. Mei Wong is by far the best dancer at the Academy and she was telling me she can see me at Juilliard. The Mecca of all things art. The magical place far from home. Mei looks at me, concern etching her features and I realize I’m staring at her. 

“R-Really?” I stutter.

 “Of course!” 

 “Oh, wow.” I answer, sounding breathless in my ears. 

Mei nods her head in response and I sense the conversation is over. The silence is awkward and a wave of acid wells up in my stomach. I have so much to ask her, but the words are caught under the lump in my throat.  

“I’m gonna get ready with Ben. I’ll talk to you later?” 

I nod cursing violently in my head for being so…awkward. When Mei was far enough, I groan plopping myself down on the floor. Stretching my legs in a straddle split, I watch the girls in Waltz of the Flowers. I don’t pay attention because the acid in my stomach turned into butterflies. Juilliard. I never thought about the school until last month and now Mei thinks I should consider auditioning.

              You know dad won’t let you go. 

I lay down on my stomach resting my chin on the back of my hands. The butterflies in my stomach harden to knots. Juilliard is in New York. Dad wouldn’t even let me see Prince in Indianapolis. The closer to Hawkins, the better. Dad didn’t appreciate change. He was at peace in Hawkins and its simplicity. If he found out his baby girl wanted a life outside of Hawkins…I’m sure it’ll break his heart and I couldn’t stomach the possibility. The look on his face. 

I shake my head, pushing down the thought. I just started sophomore year and had more than enough time to think about college. Especially Juilliard. 

[trashbag-baby666]

Willow-Webgott

Hello, @educationalporpoises !!! I’m your secret Santa!! I had a lot of fun writing this!! A lot of fun!! So I really hope you like it!!! I had to split it into two parts because I really bit off a lot with the plot! But please enjoy!!!

Summary: David got his dream part in the art schools production of The Nutcracker. Now he just has to face the taunting of his mother and his dance rival Stephanie Sobel. But Joes there to support him and get him through it all.

WC: 4,017

C/W: topics of eating disorders and body dysmorphia. Some NSFW jokes.

BofB Masterlist!

All dances mentioned can be found on this YouTube playlist I made!

"I got the part!" Web ran over to Lieb as he came out of his last ballet class of the day where Lieb always came and watched the end of practice because he had a study hall.

"Oh Liebling!" Web jumped into his boyfriend's arms hugging him tight.

Web had been working so hard since he started ballet as a kid. Then he moved to the Toccoa art school and found out about their art school.

The ballet program had been good to him and accommodated him wanting to audition for a technical ‘girls’ part.

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled, holding his boyfriend's hands tight as he smiled. He had always wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. But he didn't know if they would cast him because he was a boy, but they did!

Web originally had auditioned for the Nutcracker himself but the Sugar Plum Fairy was the most challenging and biggest part and he had got it.

"Congrats!" George smiled as he walked over, also getting out of class, "I'm the Rat King."

"But you're going to be the best one you earned it" Web congratulated him.

"Hey guys," Daisy came out of her contemporary dance class. She jogged over to the group seeing the excitement, "Did you guys get the Nutcracker parts?"

"I'm gonna be the Sugar Plum Fairy!" Web smiled even bigger.

"Congratulations!" Daisy hugged Web. She knew how hard Web had worked for this part, especially after the dance board at the school said Web could do a 'girls' part.

"George, is going to be the rat king." Web smirked, he was excited.

Every year around the beginning of fall whatever studio he was dancing at always had auditions for The Nutcracker show.

He had heard all the hype surrounding the school's Nutcracker show when he had moved there in the spring.

“Really!?” Daisy looked at her twin and hugged him, “You’re going to do great, both of you. But who got the parts of Clara?”

“Renee,” George hummed, “She deserves it.”

Web thought that there was nothing that could ruin his day after finding out that he had gotten his dream part.

But David’s parents surely knew how to ruin a good moment. He had texted his parents during lunch that he’d be home late since he had a private after school with his ballet teacher.

So, of course when Web came home it was terrible.

Web sifted through the mail toeing off his shoes at the door. “I’m home,” Web trailed off at the end. His parents sat at the table waiting for him to get back.

“David Kenyon, where have you been?” His mother scolded him.

“I texted you guys earlier that I had a private.” Web set the mail on the kitchen table.

“This is unacceptable, we didn't get it. We're having the Smiths over for dinner so go and clean up; Although, you should be watching your figure with the Nutcracker coming up.” His mother crossed her arms looking up and down at him.

Web looked down and just nodded. Web took in a sharp breath as he walked up the steps then went into his room. Slugging his backpack and his dance bag off next to his desk. He opened his closet door looking in the mirror tugging off his hoodie then his shirt. David stood in the mirror looking at his body. Joe said he was too skinny, His mom said differently.

He sighed as he looked in the mirror observing his stomach. His mother made sure that David would never feel comfortable in his body.

Since when his mother first signed him up for ballet he had been skipping meals and counting calories. The dance world was a toxic place, truly David loved what he did but he didn’t know how much longer he could take the constant body critique.

He remembers the first time Joe saw him naked so vividly.

Web was straddled over Joe's lap as he took off his shirt and felt Joe's eyes on him instantly.

He was toned nonetheless from years of intense dance training but you could also see his ribs.

He knew his body was boney and always wondered why Joe was trying to get in his pants.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” Joe sat up as he saw Web's figure and his eyes began to well up with hot tears.

“I’m sorry.” Web got off of the bed and went into his bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“No, no. Liebling.” Joe got up and came to the other side of the bathroom door, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…I just really care about you and I think you’re beautiful.”

Joe had known Web for maybe a month but he saw how his mom would berate him for the tiniest of mistakes. How hard she pushed him to be the best and to have the most elegant body.

But instead Web wouldn’t eat, if he did he’d count his calories or he’d have his fingers down his throat trying to make himself throw it up.

Web stood in his bathroom crying as he looked at himself in the mirror. He thought he was so ugly and couldn’t blame Joe for being so repulsed by him. “It’s okay if you wanna leave.” David stared at the closed door waiting for Joe to say something.

“I don’t wanna leave, Web.” Joe stood by the door, he could hear Webs muffled crying, “Why don’t you come out and we can talk about it? We don’t gotta talk about it too, I just wanna know you’re okay.”

Web sighed and grabbed a shirt from the hamper in the bathroom and pulled it on over his bare chest. He unlocked the door and opened it, not meeting Joe’s gaze.

“I think you’re beautiful and I mean it David.” Joe said softly.

“I don’t feel it,” Web sniffed, wiping his tears away and hugged him.

“Then let me convince you,” Joe wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head.

Web stood in the dance studio at the barre as the ballet class went on.

“You are the Primas of this school, there should be nothing sloppy about your extensions.” Ms. Mai, the ballet teacher droned on.

“Just look at Mr. Webster, for example. Everyone stop and look at him.” She instructed. Web felt himself suck in subconsciously as everyone's eyes were on him.

There was no secret in the studio that Web was obviously the best ballerina at the school. Some of the girls envied him, especially Stephanie Sobel.

She had made sure Web was miserable every chance she got. She at one point had taken David’s pointe shoes out of his bag so that he couldn’t dance.

“Go ahead and run the combination,” Ms. Mai nodded as Web took in a sharp breath as he ran the warm up combo hitting all of the checkpoints for his legs and his feet pointed to perfection. The class clapped for him as he stood there awkwardly. He could feel Stephanie's eyes burning into him. She had been pissed that Web had gotten the Sugar Plum Fairy part. She was then casted as his understudy.

“I’m scared she's going to axe me in the back everytime I’m in class.” Web shook his head. Web sat at the Speirs family kitchen island as Daisy made a snack and George was working on his homework.

“She’s so scary, everytime I look at her it looks like she’s snarling at me.” George looked up from his laptop. David was grateful that George was also in his ballet classes. He then had someone to stand next to and rely on as an ally in the ongoing war of ballet at Toccoa High.

“I just don’t understand why she takes it so seriously,” Daisy shrugged leaning against the island, “Like yeah it’s a good leg up if she wants to go into the professional world. But her getting the part in a fucking High School production of The Nutcracker isn’t going to make or break her career.”

“Well, you should go tell her that. Then she’ll put a knife in your back instead of mine.” Web rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’d love too then I can kick her ass and maybe she can shut her big fucking mouth.” Daisy grabbed out a juice box and aggressively set it on the counter.

“Maybe you can beat up Herbert too while you’re at it. Two siblings with one stone.” George had been getting harassed by him since they moved here a year ago. The Sobel twins were twins from hell where George and Daisy were the good ones.

“I second that, you and Joe both can arrange a time to fight them and do that.” Web chuckled as he looked back down at the paper he had been trying to write for the last week.

“I can’t get it on,” Web was in one of the bathroom stalls as they were trying on their costumes after they were altered.

“What do you mean you can’t get it on you just tried it on last week?” George stood in the stall next to him trying on the mouse king costume.

“George I can’t get it on,” Web repeated. He was panicking as he was trying to get it pulled up further then his hips.

“Here let me come help,” George came out of the stall and Web opened the stall door. Web turned to see George in the mouse costume and tried his hardest not to laugh at him, “You’re laughing now but when I have to put the mouse head on you’re going to pay for it.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Web tried his best to sound serious as he tried to hide the growing smile on his face. Completely forgetting the dilemma on hand of the leotard not fitting.

“Then why’re you smiling?” George raised an eyebrow before grabbing part of Web's costume and trying to help him get it on.

“It’s fine I’ll just go tell Ms. Mai that I need it altered again.” Web sighed looking at George. The shorter boy with dark brown hair looked back at him. George ran his teeth over his lip nervously.

“I wish I could help you more, I’m sorry.” George sighed.

“It’s fine, just don’t let Stephanie see.” Web rolled his eyes as he shut the stall door and changed back into his clothes.

Web came out of the bathroom holding the garment bag that the leotard and tutu were in. “Mrs Mai!” Web rushed over seeing his teacher.

“Oh yes Mr. Webster I’ve been looking for you. You and Ms. Sobels' costumes got switched.” Ms Mai smiled, taking the garment bag from him and waving for him to follow. She walked over to where Stephanie and her friends were standing, “Here’s the right one now.”

“Thank you,” Web took the bag from Ms. Mai.

“Yeah this one was huge on me, you probably couldn’t fit into mine.” Stephanie smirked looking at Web. He felt the words go straight to his head like a white hot blade being twisted and stabbed into him.

He just turned on his heels and hurried back into the men’s bathroom before the tears could start falling.

Joe had no idea what he had walked into when he came upstairs. from plating some food for the two after his dad’s were done making dinner.

Web was standing in Joe's room shirtless looking at himself.

“Woah? Do you wanna eat first or is it fine if it gets a little cold while we go a few rounds?” Joe smirked only half joking. Then David looked at him and could see he was tearing up.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” David turned to look at the other boy. He had felt ugly and uncomfortable all day.

“What? No. David, who said that to you?” Lieb set the two plates of food down on his desk.

“No one,” Web sniffed, rubbing his eyes free of the ever growing tears. Joe knew he was lying, but now wasn’t the time to press.

Joe came over and wrapped him in his tight embrace. Web rested his head on his shoulder as he let out a broken sob.

“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Joe led Web over to his bed sitting them down. Web curled into Joe as he couldn’t stop the tears.

He just wished he felt normal.

He had had an eating disorder since he hit puberty.

He hated doing ballet.

He wanted to quit.

“Can I tell you something? But please don't get mad at me.” David tried wiping his tears away but they were never ending.

“I wouldn’t ever be mad at you,” Joe rested his hand on Webs thigh.

“I want to quit ballet.”

Web found himself in class again going over his dance again and again, Stephanie behind him practicing.

“Mr. Webster, don’t make me remind you again.” Ms. Mai narrowed her gaze at him as Web knew he had missed a step. He Had felt off since he and Joe had the conversation of him quitting.

“Here, why don’t you watch Ms. Sobel, do it once.” Ms. Mai motioned for him to come stand next to her. The few steps from where he was dancing to standing next to her. Felt like a walk of shame. He could feel the smirk on Stephanie's face and could hear all her snide remarks going off in his head.

Ms. Mai motioned to the other student to play the music as Stephanie performed the dance perfectly. Just the way that David would’ve a week ago before he even spoke his thoughts of quitting.

When she was finished Web clapped for her just because he felt forced to by the teacher.

“I think if you give me another chance I could perform it just as well.” David spoke up.

“Okay,” Ms. Mai had Stephanie and David switch places. Stephanie was sure enough to give him a dirty look as they switched.

Web took a deep breath and took the opening position of the dance. As the music began to play, Web could feel the eyes of the other ballet classes watching him. As they got dismissed from their classes.

He could feel the next eight counts coming, the one he kept forgetting.

He could feel his heart beating in his ears as the music played and he could feel the counts coming. But he didn’t miss it. He smiled to himself as he knew he had done it and finished the dance. He took his ending pose and smiled as the other students began clapping.

“Very good, Mr. Webster.” Ms. Mai smiled, clapping for him.

It was opening night, Web had fought tooth and nail. Blood, sweat, and tears. And mostly Stephanie to get here.

“Are you excited?” George buzzed as he came over to where Web was doing his makeup.

David truly didn’t know if he was excited. One hand he was excited to finally perform what he had been fighting for since September. The other hand he knew if he messed up not only Stephanie would taunt and bully him. But his mother would too.

“A little bit,” Web looked up from his eyeshadow pallet. The entire friend group was here too including Joe. So that meant he had to perform his best.

“Well Ma and Pa will be cheering for you. Pa probably will anyway while you’re dancing. 20 some years in the military and going on 15 years of me and Daisy dancing. Man still doesn’t know ballet etiquette." George giggled showing off his crooked teeth, “he will be leaning over to the poor soul sitting next to him and go. ‘That’s my son and daughter's best friend.”

Web smiled a bit, George always knew how to make anyone feel better. During their showcase last year when David was nervous to do his solo. George stood in the wings with him before he went on. Doing the best impressions of all their friends he could do. Without the two of them disrupting the whole show with their laughter.

“You’re going to do great, I just know it. You’ve been working way harder than anyone else. You deserve this and you earned it.” George gave him a hug.

“Thank you, you’re going to kill it out there as the mouse king.” Web snickered, motioning to the mouse costume head sitting in the chair next to his.

“Don’t talk about Jaq like that!” George covered the ears of the head.

“You named him?” Web stopped applying the eyeshadow and turned to look at the other boy.

“Yeah, I’ve spent a lot of time with him this semester.” George winked, “Don’t tell Joe.”

“You’re gross,” Web laughed, throwing his mascara tube at him jokingly.

“Yeah, next time you and Joe come over don’t leave your used condom in the bathroom.” George snickered.

“Oh? Did Joe not suck your dick on my kitchen island?” Web gasped jokingly.

“Mr. Speirs we’re starting soon and I need everyone in act one to come to the wings.” Ms. Mai poked her head in the dressing room where George and Web were still in there, “Mr. Webster when you’re done you should go run your dance in the hallway.”

“See you later, I’ll come find you when I’m done.” George grabbed the mouse head and followed Ms. Mai out the door.

Web finished his makeup and put on his pointe shoes then grabbed his phone and water bottle.

He hadn’t been running his dance for very long when he saw Sobel walking down the hallway. George paused the music and awkwardly stood by the wall picking up his phone and water bottle. He awkwardly started checking his texts hoping Sobel would just leave him alone and he was going to the bathroom.

He wasn’t sure which came first…he suddenly felt himself being pushed into the wall and Sobel stomping down onto his ankle. Then he heard the snapping as he collapsed onto the hard floor. He heard himself let out a shriek as he grabbed his ankle.

“This is kinda weird,” Joe whispered to Daisy as the dance of Clara and The Nutcracker went on.

“I know, every year I get to watch this weird ballet. I was in it when I was younger actually.” Daisy snickered quietly.

“Really?” Joe smirked as the two bowed their heads to talk to each other.

“Yup, I played one of the kids at the christmas party then one of the mice in the battle.” Daisy nodded.

“Wow,” Lieb joked, elbowing her lightly. Then he felt his phone vibrate, he turned it over and saw a text from Web.

Web<3: Come out into the hall. Please.

Joe showed Daisy the text and Lieb shrugged, getting up out of the end row seat and going out into the hallway and around the corner. Then he saw the scene, David crying, sitting against the wall, and holding his left ankle.

“Jesus, fuck.” Lieb said as he got down on his knees, “What happened, meine liebe?”

“Fucking, Sobel.” Web yelped out as Lieb gently removed Web's grasp.

“I’m going to text Daisy to get Gene, but why don't we take off your shoes and tights. Yeah?” Lieb asked as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted her.

David adjusted against the wall as Joe gently took Webs ankle untying and unwrapping the ribbons.

“Ow, ow.” Web sniffed as Joe gently took off the pointe shoe.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Web. We’re almost done.” Joe gently rubbed Web's thigh supportingly to try and distract him from where he had to reposition his ankle.

“I gotta cut open your tights.” Lieb sighed and grabbed the pocket knife he most certainly shouldn’t have had.

“I know,” Web sniffed. Joe gently cut the seam on the toe and helped him slide it up.

Both cringed as the dark bruised, swollen ankle became apparent.

“Fuck,” Joe muttered and looked up to see Gene and Daisy running down the hall.

“What happened?” Daisy asked as Gene bent down and began inspecting Webs ankle.

“Sobel fuckin’ happened,” Lieb looked at Daisy and he saw the red heads eyes turn red metaphorically as she balled her fist.

“Daisy, I need you to go to the back of the theater where there are paramedics. But also get his parents.” Gene instructed her.

“I’m gonna kill that mother fucker.” Lieb snarled.

“No, stay here.” Web grabbed Joe's hand as Gene held it on his lap to elevate his ankle.

Web was embarrassed as he rode him in the passenger seat of Joe's beat up, old car. His ankle was broken and he had no idea how to respond.

When his doctor told him he wouldn’t be dancing for at least two months the panic set in. His mother just narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“I’m sorry this happened to you…you don’t deserve that at all. I promise you I’m gonna make sure he fucking knows who he’s fucking with.” Joe said increasingly more aggressively. Before his steering wheel in anger.

“It’s okay, I don’t want you getting in trouble.” Web shook his head.

Stephanie would now take over his part in the Nutcracker for the following weeks till Christmas.

“He deserves to be expelled.” Joe brewed as he drove them back to the Webster house.

Joe carried Web up the steps and down to his bedroom. Setting the other boy down on his bed. “What clothes do you want?” Lieb asked as he set down Webs backpack down.

“Just a shirt and some boxers.” Web sighed and shrugged. He didn’t know what he was going to do. He wouldn’t be allowed to dance for two months. Then he’d have to re-build up the muscles in his feet to dance on pointe.

But at the same time he was almost glad that he couldn’t dance for two months.

He was excited to get to take some time off. He was questioning whether he wanted to stay in ballet and now he had time to make the right choice.

“I’ll go get you some ice when we’re done.” Joe came over and kissed Webs cheek, “Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch.” David tried to ignore the pain as Joe helped him change out of his joggers and took his boot off him.

He was feeling lucky when Joe came back with an ice pack wrapped in a towel.

“Okay,” Joe checked the pillows that his ankle was propped on and then gently set the ice on his ankle.

“Thank you,” David blushed a deep red. He watched as Joe changed then climbed in next to him.

“I love you, I’m sure you would’ve done an amazing job. I know you would have. You’re the only person I really like to watch Dance. Don’t tell Daisy.” Lieb chuckled. Web smirked and giggled a bit.

“I know I would’ve done it better than Stephanie performed it” Joe took off his shirt and grabbed his phone. He checked her

Instagram page and showed the video to David. She missed some steps and her foot was sickled.

“I love you,” Web gently turned off Liebs phone and kissed his cheek.

“Can’t believe this,” David’s mom shook her head, pacing in the kitchen. Since Joe left and Web was just trying to have breakfast she started nagging him.

“You should’ve stood up for yourself, now look.” She motioned to the boot on David’s ankle.

“I know,” Web sat at the table awkwardly spinning his cereal around in the pool.

“You better be watching what you’re eating if you’re going to not be active for awhile.” She pointed her spoon at the cereal he was eating, “Have some yogurt tomorrow instead.”

“What does it matter?” Web mumbled staring down into the cereal bowl.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me, David?” His mother snapped at him.

“I said I’m quitting ballet.” David snapped, slapping the table.

Pt Two coming soon…

[dozydawn]

“Ten-year-old Natasha, left, and Annabel, no last names given, are measured for height by children’s ballet mistress Garielle Whittle at the School of American Ballet in New York, Nov. 1, 1989 during auditions for the New York City Ballet’s production of The Nutcracker ballet. Both girls were judged sufficiently statuesque to be given roles as tall characters in the ballet.”

Photographed by Susan Ragan.

[carmodance]

Might be a dumb question but do the rockettes and radio city Clara/nutcracker get paid for their performances? And do you know if they have to pay fees such as auditions, costumes, and travel etc

I dont know 100% but I would imagine yes. Just as booking any other entertainment gig you get paid. I doubt they pay for costumes. That would be crazy. Not sure about travel to and from.

[pixelplayhouse]

she just killed her audition for this years nutcracker. who will she play this year?

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

Hestia ends up being the only one of the Deuteronomy-Jones kids to end up doing ballet as a full-time career. Mistoffelees never lived vicariously through his kids, but seeing Hestia and Tumblebrutus go into dance as something full-time warmed his heart so so much. She and Tumblebrutus become one of those ballet it-couples, where everyone knows they're together, and if one of them is seen auditioning for a role in a ballet that's part of a romantic pair, the other isn't far behind.

Their first big role is in "The Nutcracker", where Hestia is cast as Clara, and Tumblebrutus as the Nutcracker. It's a role they both know well, having danced it as children and young adults, but being on a professional stage makes it so much more real.

Mistoffelees can't help but cry sitting in the first row, watching his daughter dance and be applauded by thousands of people. Hestia makes eye contact with him throughout the show, happy tears in her own eyes, and at the end of the show, as she bows, she blows him a kiss.

When it comes time for everyone to go to the stage door, of course there are crowds waiting for the two leads. However, as soon as the doors open, Hestia's flying past all the cheering people straight into her papa's arms, clinging to him as he spins her around, just like he used to when he was Drosselmeyer and she was Clara.

Mistoffelees is absolutely bursting with pride, and Hestia's beaming, and she doesn't leave his side, even as her siblings pile onto her in a tight group hug, or as Tugger peppers kisses all over her face, cheek stained with tears he fervently denies shedding.

[blissio]

Two weeks have passed and soon after auditions.. I mean are we surprised? Of course, Wynona was the Sugar Plum Fairy this year again. Has Tristan messaged her in the last two weeks one might ask her? Let's just say the long answer is: Wynona doesn't want to talk about it. The short answer is: no. I mean, maybe he just didn't like her as much as she thought, but.. he also could be busy... so let's give him the benefit of the doubt. Wynona's busy too alright! She not only has The Nutcracker, but she also has her birthday coming up soon! Now is definitely not the time to be worrying over some guy. Even if the "some guy" is Tristan.

[writermuses]

It was a big deal for Alina to take off right after the wrap of Nutcracker. It wasn't exactly like she had ever celebrated Christmas or any other winter season holiday. It was the years of messages with Dorian that made her curious. Was it a risk to show up in his hometown (kingdom really) to surprise him on New Years Eve, definitely. She knew he could not only be busy but likely had company. Alina never saw herself as a person that took risks or stepped out of her comfort zone, but she found herself wanting to move beyond her well established safety net for him. The last time she'd come it was for auditions and now that the Nutcracker wrapped this surprise wasn't just that she wanted to kiss that very handsome man at midnight, she was moving to be a principal dancer at the national ballet. Slipping into the crowd, a bustling throng of people awaiting the fireworks over Kylanth's castle, Alina's weaved slowly through them with her eyes looking for just one particular person. She'd left this moment to fate and as she looked up at the castle's windows, catching sight of a familiar form kissing a pretty blonde, her heart sank and she leaned against the cold wall as she tried to will her heart to calm down. Only for her pulse to quicken when a hand took hers. "I'm fine, really."

closed starter for @hcllriot

[underoossss]

the way you move - s.h – 3

pairing: jock!steve harrington x ballerina!reader

warnings: language, brief s4 mention, some angst

words: 1.5k

an: part 3 is here and they’re so so close to jumping! this hurt a bit to write but hurt comfort with Steve is always so wonderful to write. I hope you like this! Please let me know if you 💕✨

part 2

✰✰✰✰

There’s only been a few times when Steve’s felt helpless. One of them, that incident in the Upside Down. Even now, he’s sure he would’ve died if it wasn’t for his friends getting the bats off him. It had been hard to breathe or think back then, but he eventually found his footing once he had help and that allowed him to defend himself too.

Now though, he’s truly helpless. You’re crying in his arms, and he doesn’t know what to do.

It had been a normal day, a happy day even. Steve woke up and got ready for the day, then after a quick coffee and breakfast he set off to pick you up. You had ballet class at 11am as you did every Saturday and there had been a skip to Steve’s step at the thought of seeing you again. So he arrived to your house and picked you up at your door, hugging you close and breathing you in for a moment before leading the way to his car a big smile on his face as a result of your own.

You’d been excited all week for your teacher would be announcing the parts assigned for the nutcracker after Saturday practice. Steve had his fingers crossed so you’d get to be the fairy, not only for his own benefit of seeing you dance front and center at the theater, but for your happiness. You’d worked hard, never once complaining even as your feet hurt while you prepared to audition. Today you’d find out for sure though but showed no sign of nerves as you talked animatedly with Steve in the car.

Then that Bad Boys Blue song you love had played and the two of you sang along, off-key but happy; you, pretending to know French for some of it and Steve laughing at your ridiculousness. A warm feeling had fallen over Steve, and he knew he’d just fallen in love again with you. It happened every day, and when the studio was on sight, Steve was grateful to see it. Another moment with that smile of yours next to him and he would have done something stupid like kiss you silly.

Once at the parking lot, the two of you had bundled up for the cold weather and crossed the street to the studio. Then upon noticing Madame Laverne wasn’t there yet, Steve followed you inside where he leaned against the mirror and smiled while you got ready for class. You’d been wearing that black open-back leotard he loves on you, with a lilac chiffon skirt wrapped around your waist. The probable wrath we could have faced from your teacher had been worth it then, to see you look so pretty in front of him. When you heard a car park outside the studio, you’d ushered him out, laughing and smiling when Steve picked you up and spun you around in farewell. You’d bashfully said goodbye, knowing all eyes were on you and self-indulgently Steve placed a gently kiss on your cheek.

But then after practice, the day took a turn for the worse. You weren’t the sugar plum fairy, Agatha Francis was.

Steve had to give you credit for being an excellent actress though. He had no idea of what’d happened when he picked you up later that day. You’d left the studio with a bright smile, said goodbye to some of your classmates and skipped to his car where he had the passenger door already open and waiting for you. Steve assumed you were given the role you wanted, with how happy you looked. But when you wouldn’t meet his eyes and silently buckled your seatbelt, he began to wonder if something went wrong.

As he drove out of the parking lot, he glanced at you in worry. “Everything okay, babe? How did it go?” He’d asked and your happy façade vanished.

Big tears began cascading down your face and you pressed your lips together when they began to tremble. “Awful.” You’d whispered between tears, “awful, Stevie.”

It broke Steve’s heart, especially when he offered his hand out to you and you clung to it as he drove you home.  It wasn’t until you’d arrived at your house and Steve walked inside with you, that you let yourself crumble. The weight of your disappointment sat heavy on your hunched shoulders, and you let your bags fall on the floor in favour of hugging your arms around yourself. It tore Steve to pieces to see you like that and it filled him with another level of protectiveness he didn’t know he had.

“Oh baby, come here.” Steve gathered you in his arms, which is where you’re now. Your body curled up against his chest, legs over his thighs with your face hidden under his chin. Your cries don’t seem to stop, the disappointment you’re feeling overflowing in the form of cascading tears.

“They don’t know talent.” Steve huffs against your hair, feeling angry beyond words for you but keeping calm to help you. “You would’ve been a better fairy, beautiful. You know that.”

“I’m not good enough for that Stevie, they made it clear.” You sniffle between words, hugging him tighter and trying to make yourself smaller. Your voice breaks in between your next words and it hurts Steve even worse than a physical punch ever could.  “I’m playing a petal. A petal.”

“Then you’re going to be the best petal there ever was,” Steve’s voice is quiet but fierce with honesty as he holds you closer and kisses a spot above your brow. Fuck them for making his girl feel like this, no one gets to do that. “They won’t know what hit them.”

You shake your head against his chest, but Steve continues earnest in his reassurance. This isn’t like you, to get stuck in a negative mindset but then he supposes it’s hard not to be when your dream role was snatched away right in front of you. “They’re going to look at you and say, ‘why wouldn’t they make her the sugar plum fairy, that petal is so beautiful and talented the play should be about her.’”

When a weak laugh escapes you, Steve finally feels like he can breathe a little easier and his shoulders relax the tiniest bit. “Come on, look at me.” His thumb and index finger hook under your chin gently, bringing your gaze to his. You meet his eyes hesitantly and Steve gives you a small smile he hopes can comfort you.

“Their decision says nothing about you,” Steve whispers softly as he wipes the tears that have cascaded down your cheeks. “They lost the most talented lead. Let them bore people to death with Agatha, it’s their loss. Babe, you’re too talented to believe their choice has anything to do with whether you’ve got it.”

“Told you Agatha’s Madame Laverne’s favourite.” You murmur, brows meeting in the middle as you look away from his searching eyes. Yes, you’d told him so a while ago, right after you told him Agatha said you shouldn’t get your hopes up. God, no wonder you’re so hurt, you think she was right.

Steve kisses the wrinkle between your eyebrows away, not giving any second thought to you perceiving all the affection pouring out of him. “You’re mine.” He smiles brightly and is rewarded with the most beautiful teary smile of yours in return. “Okay? You’re my favourite; I’ll cheer so loudly for you they’ll kick me out.”

His words have the intended effect, they make you laugh despite your red eyes. They fall closed while you throw your head back. When your laughter fades you look at him, soft and teary eyes vulnerable with an ocean of affection. And Steve… he feels lightheaded with love, it takes all his willpower not to kiss you right there.

“You’re everything, Stevie.” You whisper as you look into his eyes, amazement and something terribly close love shining in the tears that gathered in your eyes. “You’re everything.” With a shake of your head, you lean closer and hug him tightly again. A wave of love bigger than a tsunami washes over Steve when you do, both of your hearts synchronizing immediately.

If he had any doubt your feelings weren’t the same as his, they’re close to none now. What he’s feeling is all-consuming and powerful; and it must be because it’s mutual. The very thought of it makes his heart skip several beats which he ignores to hold you close. He’ll hold you as close as you want, for as long as you want, because you’re everything too. His everything.

✰✰✰✰

Part 4

reblogs are always appreciated!

masterlist

[likesomekindofcheese]

Can I request a fluffy Joe Mazzello x fem. reader long fic where it’s Christmas Eve and they are sitting by the Christmas tree and Joe surprises reader with a present and when reader opens it, it’s a velvet box and Joe takes it from reader and goes into a speech about how much he loves her and that when he first laid eyes on reader in college, it was love at first sight and he gets down on one knee and asks reader to marry him?

Awww, that's cute!

Again, I don't do requests for longshots but I can do a blurb!

"Oh, look! Snow!" you cried, running to the window. You felt the chill already from the window.

White flurries by now were falling down so heavily, that it blanketed everywhere. It was so beautiful- and with the fireplace on and the Christmas tree twinkling with lights and decorations, it was quite a perfect Christmas Eve. In the back, the Nutcracker pas de deux between the Sugar Plum Fairy and her Cavalier Prince was playing.

"I think having you be me would make it better..." Joe suggested.

You turned around and saw him with a cheeky smile. You then went over and sat down next to him, letting him cuddle you.

"How are you? Was your Christmas Eve busy? I had to do some last-minute shopping..." you said.

"I'm...I'm good...great..." Joe answered.

You looked at him and saw that his ears were bright pink. Normally, he was talkative and confident, but he seemed a little quiet today.

"What's up? Something happened with your mom?" you asked.

"No! She's okay!"

"An audition went badly!?"

"No, not at all! I...it's just I...uh, have a gift for you and it can't wait for tomorrow," he announced.

"Oh! Okay- which one is it?" you questioned, looking after the presents you just finished wrapping up.

He cleared his throat and you returned your head. He had a box that was square and small, wrapped in red and white striped paper.

"Alright, great!" you said cheerfully.

Once you undid the paper and broke open the cardboard box you saw inside was...a small velvet box.

The breath was knocked out of you and your heart picked up.

"Joe, uhm, is...is..."

His eyes, shiny and sincere, looked up at you.

"Y/N, I...I've known you for a while and we have dated for a while and I..I think I have loved you from the moment I met you. I can be myself around you. It was a small love, but a part of me wondered, just wondered...wondered if I met the person who should be my person. I just had to be sure...so I spent time with you. And that little love it grew and grew. I see stars in your eyes, Y/N, and a smile that gives me life. Crap, I'm getting so sappy! I..."

He rubbed the back of his head.

"I don't even talk like this!"

"It's okay, Joe!" you said with a slight laugh. But your eyes were starting to well up.

"But I love you, Y/N and I want you to be happy. I would love it if I could make you happy for the rest of your life, so Y/N..."

Your head spun as he got on one knee. The music surged to it's most romantic.

"Will you marry m-"

It was cut off as you leaned down and planted a large kiss on his lips in answer.

There was a sudden buzz from his phone. It was from Ben.

"Have you proposed to her yet, Mate? Update me!"

Both of you smiled at it. You opened the box and propped the shiny diamond ring on your finger.

"Let's take a picture as an answer!" you suggested.

Taglist: @borhapgirlforlife19 @queenlover05