#your ballet shoes a little too worn

[zweigsangel]

LOOKIN’ OUT FOR YOU — hockeyplayer!chris

blurb; he helps you when your feet hurt after dance class. pure fluff!! mentions of blood.

your dance class had just ended, and you were in the dimly lit locker room with the other girls, the sound of muffled chatter and laughter filling the space. the faint scent of sweat lingered in the air. as always, chris would be coming to pick you up, but you still had a few minutes to yourself. you sat down on one of the cold, wooden benches, the surface hard against your legs, and placed your worn duffel bag next to you. with a sigh, you unzipped it and rummaged through until you found your spare shoes.

your feet ached, a dull throb that reminded you of every leap, every turn from the past hour. slowly, you slipped off your ballet flats, the tight fabric sticking slightly to your skin. as you pulled them off, you noticed the sharp sting before you saw it—blood. crimson streaks marked the tops of your toes, the raw skin beneath bright and painful to the touch. “shit,” you murmured under your breath, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet corner of the room.

one by one, the other girls left, their voices fading as they said their goodbyes, leaving the locker room quiet and still. the soft echo of the door closing behind them made the silence even more noticeable. you were alone now, sitting on the hard bench, staring at your injured feet. with a deep breath, you reached for your spare shoes, trying to slip them on, but the moment the fabric touched your raw skin, a sharp pain shot through you. you winced, biting your lip as you tried again, but the ache was unbearable.

"babe, are you here?" chris's voice echoed through the empty locker room, and you saw him walk in, his expression already full of worry. the moment he laid eyes on you, his concern deepened, and his gaze dropped to your feet. "oh fuck," he muttered, his brow furrowing. "hold on. i’ll get something, i don’t know, jus’—wait here." without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, disappearing back through the door in a hurry.

when he returned, he had ice and a towel in his hands. he walked over to you quickly, then knelt down in front of you. he gently pressed the ice to one of your feet, and the cold sent a sharp jolt of pain through you, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders. "it's okay, relax," he said, his voice steady and calm. his eyes stayed focused on your feet as he carefully held the ice against them, wrapping them in the towel to ease the pain, his touch gentle.

"jesus, what did you do to end up like this?" chris's voice was low, filled with concern, as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. his brow was furrowed, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced with worry as he studied your face. you offered him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. "sometimes it happens, it's normal," you said quietly. he let out a slow breath, his hand lingering on your ankle for a moment before he returned his attention to your feet. the ice had begun to numb the pain, but you could still feel the sharp stings beneath. "this isn't normal angel," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he looked back down at your feet. his fingers twitched slightly and his jaw clenched. you watched him, seeing how much it affected him, but there was little you could say. this wasn’t new to you—the bruises, the blisters, the blood—but to him, it felt like too much.

after a while, he carefully removed the ice and towel, setting them down on the bench beside you. without saying a word, he reached for your spare shoes and ballet flats, placing them gently inside your duffel bag before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. "what are you doing?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

but instead of answering, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, holding you like a princess. "taking ya home, angel.”

[1-49]

쇼타로: He was punk she did ballet.

✶ pairing: ballerina fem! reader × street dancer osaki shotaro. warnings: none. just fluff & love119. competing. idiots <3; 2k.

Sundays ──── are traditionally celebrated by the dance teams at the academy as a day to have fun and appreciate the variety of dance styles. It’s both hit-and-miss. There are those who love them and those who hate them.

It is also a day on which you’re compelled to see the boy with the freaky movements and baggy clothes, week after week. His street style is in contrast to ur grace. His gentle eyes and angelic smile are in tune though, so u’re quite confused sometimes.

Even though his movements re timed perfectly, you find his fluidity to be too harsh and precise. Your dance style will always be superior to his. Or so you believe.

The pair game that all of you’ve been delaying for the longest & playing team against team is one of the worst things that could happen this Sunday. But it is finally happening, it’s final! He is your date for this occasion. And it is just so unfortunate that you will be paired with the boy who has been causing you to have an indecisive impression of him for the longest time.

He smiles shyly at you from across the practice room, and you feel annoyed that you can see yourself smiling back at him thru the reflection of the mirrors. That is just his courteous way of greeting you, following the clatter of applause when your names are announced, and now carrying on with the event is the only choice you have.

Every hand clap causes pressure to build inside your chest. It shouldn’t feel at all like this; however, here he is, a punk wearing clothes that don’t match you & which also create a distinct image from that of ballet.

He makes his way towards the center of the dance floor where you are, step by step. So you close your eyes and allow your mind to filter out all of the noise filling the space. In his presence, you can’t allow yourself to make any mistakes. 

As it is a freestyle duet, neither of you knows where it is going, so all you can do is hope it works out well for you both. Being embarrassed in front of everyone is something you wouldn’t want.

The sweet energy that comes from his eyes is easy to be affected by. You understand the importance of meeting someone halfway, particularly when dancing. Despite the stark differences in appearance, your energies must align.

His big-print hoodie contrasts with your sleek-fitting bodice.

Yours is essentially one with your skin to allow you freedom of movement while at the same time enhancing the visual effect of your dance movements. Contrarily, his wide clothes accomplish the same goal in a different way because they permit him to move freely and showcase his unique sense of flair and style.

With your hair up and attention to your posture, you wait for him. Your old shoes are pink in color, worn out, a bit blood-stained, and exhausted. There are heart-shaped band-aids on both of your leg’s injuries.

The boy seems to focus on them before shifting his gaze to you, with a hint of worry visible on his face. It appears that he is aware of the harm that dancing can cause.

Without you realizing it, his cute concern warms the surface of your skin and gradually makes its way to your heart. He might be a little different, but not by much. You are confident that he would relate to you more than your friends, who are overly preoccupied with social media.

Once he is fully in front of you, he bows his head; his large eyes are partially obscured by his beanie. You find it endearing that he is modest enough to cover up one of his greatest features.

While you both anxiously await whatever kind of dancing and music you will have to perform, you bow your head respectfully and advance toward him, the boy whose name you don’t know.

With every movement he makes, his silver earnings sparkle like stars & serve as his only accessory.

You breathe in deeply. You think it would be humiliating  if he had to hold your hand and see how nervous you really are because the insides of your hand are so sweaty.

The various dancers around you stop clapping and cheering, and there is a brief pause before the music begins. A moment of silence. A time when it is just the two of you, a moment of absolute connection.

Just your luck, Claude Debussy’s Rêverie, L.68, begins to play.

You are the one in control here, so he can probably tell when you show a little change in confidence. Even so, he beams, his browns dripping with sparks. A little strange considering that he has no knowledge of ballet, you think...

That is, until the two of you strike a graceful starting stance, with pointed feet and flowing arms. You are dressed for the occasion in your ballet shoes, while he is in black Nikes... And until he starts moving his body in time with the melody, you may assume he is being sarcastic rather than sincere.

To your astonishment, with his silhouette concealed by all the loose clothing, he starts to transforms into a true body in motion, just like you. Easily translating sound into action— stepping & bowing—then momentarily, he flies. A perfect, graceful sight.

Your tense muscles are in attempt to match his mental pace. You are devising each step to somewhat resemble his, so the harmony of your individual dances will be the same.

Your ballet teacher has instilled in you the belief that “If it hurts, you are doing it right.”

And indeed, it is painful to match someone whose technique you are not familiar with—you have not even danced with him before. However, he is currently everything that you love—challenges and surprises. 

He is the anti-glow, a ball of sunshine, sunk in pools of gray and black polyester. Denying the fine lines on his body that you are certain exist but never see.

Your heart soars straight over cloud nine, as you extend your neck and return to the initial position. By this point, you can be certain that he has some ballet training; if not, he must have had some experience since nothing else could account for his exceptional ballet dancing.

And since all you two have going on is mental chat, you can both telepathically determine that a pair dance would be the show’s biggest highlight. Both of you are progressing in distinct dance styles, but you have one thing in common: you both take things seriously !

When the audience realizes what you were going for, they begin to applaud the choice. The cheering causes the boy’s cheeks to flush. His confidence has never wavered before, but right now. 

And now, after all this time of being cold-hearted, you allow his innocent warmth to seep through your exterior barriers of ice. The tips of your eyes gently wrinkle as you make the ‘It’s going to be okay’ motion with your lips. The words of motivation that flow from your mouth are silent, so only he can read them.

It seems that was all he needed to know...

Carried by the bristling atmosphere, he extends his hand. 

Before, you wouldn’t have trusted him with your hand because of how sweaty it would be and what he would think of it, but now you just care about giving the best performance possible, regardless of how vulnerable that makes you to him. All you can hope is that he is competent at keeping secrets.

The confession in his eyes & the gentle smile on his face tell you that he’s ur greatest confidante.

It is the final thing you notice,

before two powerful hands firmly grab your waist. Which simultaneously it feels as though somebody had taken hold of your body and is finally releasing the butterflies that had been imprisoned inside your ribs. Sharing so much with someone is vulnerable and frighteningly intimate. But you decide to put your trust in the partnership.

Because of how close you two remain, your mind keeps filtering out all the chants and roars of everyone around. Although you know in the back of your mind that your friends will make insufferable jokes about the situation you find yourself in, you don’t care as nothing seems more important than the boy right now.

You almost get the impression that this boy just keeps you on your toes. Your heart races every time you look at him with that warm gaze.

Sliding into his arms is like having a fuzzy coat hug you. His tired breath is practically on your lips. Yet proud and shining, your figures blend together despite their contrast.

‘It takes two to tango,’ as you two start to move faster while swaying to the orchestral tune.

You feel as if everybody in the room is watching your every skin, but not him... With roused cheeks his only route are your eyes and lips. You might assume from the way he looks at you that you are the only girl he is continuously thinking about and lusting for.

‘Enough! Enough! Enough!’ Your thoughts are racing, telling you that you can’t allow these emotions to distract you.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, so closely you can read it off his lips.

He doesn’t even need to say what... your inner professional dancer knows, so you smile, well aware of what is about to happen.

There’s a specific rhythm to dancing that only a dancer knows. The thrill of a strong jump, a good pointing of the toes, or the success of a hard spin when they thought they’d run out of luck, but to trust him with them all in the absence of any prior practice is a terrifying test.

Yet, you do! You do...

You let yourself entirely depend on this punk whose name you don’t know. A boy you have only ever seen between dance classes and on Sundays, and someone who makes your emotions explode at the moment. For so long, you have thought of him as a loser—or, more accurately, you haven’t thought about him at all... In this sense, your perception of him was never fully formed.

Up until this point, right now, when you body is raised by his hands. 

Up, up, and up you go. Looking up, chin up—hands extended like a wings of an angel.

Then down back you go—to your feet, to his chest. To his pretty face, too shiny eyes, and plump lips.

You lend... safety, but your heart is in danger.

In perfect sync. He sees beyond the here and now, beyond your eyes. Making the most of your mutual closeness as though he would never again have the courage to express his feelings for you in such an honest way.

You stare at him intently. Reaching his orbit in the same manner, and exploring the chocolate of his orbs. Savoring his scent, the drops of sweat dripping from his brow.

But despite everything, you understand that this time the contest is about the race—still the first person to cross the finish line is not necessarily the winner... Because,

“How would you feel if you were to win, and what would happen if you lost?” you whisper. You are competitive by nature; all you are doing is making sure.

Naturally, he shrugs his shoulders, and you find yourself desperate to hear his voice just once.

Last but not least, as the big finish approaches—the double individual spin, you cling to him one last time before you part ways, to execute it on their own. 

One less time, you get that perfect sense of unity when your hands entwine. As the ballet performance draws to an end, you keep pouting softly more and more.

And as a result, the boy pulls you until your chest merges with his. In your ear, he whispers, “I receive a date if I land badly.” 

Apparently, he is competitive in nature as you are; just a punk who ensures that he gets the better of the situation...

Not every loser is an actual loser.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of It - Anniversary

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings.

Word count: 1,800

Summary: After two years together, Jason takes her out somewhere special for their anniversary.

Masterlist

It was mid morning when Jason called. 

That was deeply unusual, this month especially. He had been so busy lately she barely saw him except for the days she got up and found him dead to the world on the other side of her bed.

Idly cataloguing the possible reasons for the call, Andy turned down the radio and stepped away from her laptop.

A serious injury? Unlikely, that call typically came from Alfred and would have happened three hours ago. Location compromised, maybe? Pretty good chance, although it wasn’t usually a call but an emergency alert telling her to get her ass out the door. Maybe he was loopy on fear-toxin antidote again and needed to hear she was still alive. 

Most likely situation was Jason calling to tell her he was leaving the country, or the planet, or possibly the universe. Given the timing, it would be… well. Not crushing, but disappointing. 

Two years into this relationship, she knew better than to get too precious about calendar dates. 

“Hello?” she said with a jaunty tilt of her head. No pre-emptive sulking, she refused. 

“Hey beautiful,” Jason’s voice came through the little speaker. It was warm and low. “I’ve missed your voice.”

Her eyebrows rose and relief lit up her face. “Did you just? I’ve got a presentation tomorrow that needs some rehearsing, want to listen to my dulcet tones talk about community support funding?”

He laughed. “I would actually, but I’d rather hear the whole story from the beginning. Are you free this saturday?”

“Hmm, am I free this saturday?” she drawled. “On our anniversary?”

“Yup, that saturday.”

“Why, yes, baby, I think I am. Why do you ask?”

“You’re not free anymore. I’m calling dibs.” 

“Oh?” She dared to feel not just relief but anticipation. 

“8pm. I’ll come get you.” 

“Alright. How am I dressing? Steel capped boots? Running shoes? Ballet flats?” She had learned the vital importance of this question since going out with him. Jason’s plans were best faced prepared. 

“Heels,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Wear that slinky red number you hide at the back of the closet.”

She paused. Of course he’d seen it. “I’ve… never actually worn that before.”

“What did you get it for then?” he asked, teasing. 

“Oh, you know. Maybe I’ll get invited to the Oscars.”

He laughed, low and promising. “I’ll make you feel like you did.”

She bit her lip. She was grinning like an idiot, alone in her own apartment. Two years in and she could still melt her with a word. 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll see you Saturday, sweetheart.” 

They hung up and she drifted to her closet, eyeing up the dress. 

He couldn’t make their first anniversary. The planet was under an invasion while Bruce was off-world dealing with some other, separate invasion, so Jason and Dick split up cowl temping duties. Dick went to go play Batman with the Justice League and Jason stayed to play Batman in Gotham. 

He was more than capable of it and the average criminal didn’t even realise there was a different guy under the cowl. They just thought Batman was feeling extra mean this month. But it more than doubled his workload.

It didn’t blindside her. They were both disappointed but didn’t make a fuss, they had a system in place for these things. Both made compromises and extended grace to the other, and their relationship was stronger for it.

All the same, when Saturday night rolled around and she heard the purr of a car rolling up outside, excitement fizzed in her chest like bubbles in champagne.

She put on her finishing touches and went out to meet him. 

Jason waited for her in a perfectly tailored black suit. He didn’t fancy himself up very often, or ever, in fact. Having him dressed up was more of a luxury than the McLaren sports car he was leaning against. 

She drank in the sight of him. He looked like he could put Brucie Wayne to shame. The smirk on his face completed the ensemble.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said. 

She wore her floor length evening dress, with a halter neck and the most indulgent plunging neckline she had ever worn, to say nothing of the split in the skirt. It was also bright red. She felt a little shy in it, but it wasn’t a dress for hiding in. She had towering black stilettos on her feet and a lazy swing in her hips. She wanted him to look his fill. 

His eyes roamed over her with open appreciation. They were shortly followed by his hands, settling on her hips. He pulled her to him.

How was he still so much taller than her? 

He kissed her, slow and deep and hungry. She leaned into him. He luxuriated in her. 

Her night was off to a wonderful start. 

Once they could bring themselves to part, he helped her into the car, and drove them off into the night. She put her hand on his thigh. He interlocked his fingers with hers and drove one handed. Gotham’s lights flashed by as they left their native little corner of the city behind. They wound through the Diamond District. 

They slowed to a stop in the courtyard of a softly glowing restaurant. There was a cellist playing in the foyer. She recognised the name in a looping font over the door. She’d read it on some list of world best’s. 

“You did not get a booking here on Wednesday. Did you?” 

“I booked a year ago.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to miss it twice.” 

She squeezed his hand. A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t encapsulate just how much it meant to her. She knew the case he was working on wasn't wrapped up yet. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. 

She looked out the window at the people getting out of cars ahead of them. Doubt niggled at the back of her head.

“I may not actually be fancy enough for these people,” she confessed. 

Jason scoffed. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna put everyone else here to shame.” He killed the engine and turned to her. “They should be grateful for the privilege of seeing you. I know I am.” 

She smiled, ducking her head a little. He tilted her chin back up and looked into her eyes, leaning down towards her. 

“You know these windows are tinted?” he said. 

She snorted a laugh. He snatched a kiss. 

“If you smudge my makeup, so help me.” 

“Sweets, you know that’s a challenge.” He tipped her chin higher and kissed her neck, expertly dodging where she had blended her foundation into her skin. 

She sighed. She loved this ridiculous man so much.

A valet tapped his window and Jason drew back with a sly grin. 

He got out and came around to open her door for her. It was a necessity given how low the seats and how tall her heels were, but she was happy to lean into the fantasy as he took her hand. 

Doubt was for behind closed doors. With the world watching she stepped out into the courtyard in a flutter of red silk and her chin held high. Jason slung an arm around her waist, resting low on her hip. They walked like they belonged because who the hell was going to tell them they didn’t? 

They were welcomed in by the maitre d’ and led across the packed restaurant floor. Jason caressed the curve of her hip without shame. 

She spotted the empty table their path led them to. Jason stiffend at her side. 

At the table directly next to it sat another couple, presumably also on a date. Bruce Wayne and a gorgeous brunette with a pixie cut, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. 

Bruce glanced their way only briefly, and his expression froze. 

Dread broke through his public persona for just a moment, a look perfectly mirrored on his son’s face. The collision course was set. Jason walked like he was approaching the gallows. 

The brunette noticed the hiccup and looked back, revealing Miss Selina Kyle. She looked at Andy and rolled her eyes in commiseration. 

“Actually,” Andy said, tossing her hair back and stopping in place. 

The maitre d’ paused in his path. 

“I would love to sit on the mezzanine floor. With the wall of flowers? It must be so beautiful.”

She ruthlessly silenced her internal scream over making a fuss. She was not surrendering her evening to Wayne bullshit. She got waxed for this. 

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, the orchid display isn’t currently available, we are preparing an exciting new display for the spring after Poison Ivy-”

“It’s what I want,” she said pleasantly. 

“Of course.” 

The maitre d’ redirected them with perfect poise. He whispered in a passing waiter’s ear, and led them to the stairs. 

Jason took her hand and squeezed it in silent thanks. The tension seeped back out of him. She squeezed back. 

The mezzanine was comparatively quiet, with a giant print of Monet’s water lilies erected to cover some construction works. It had a lovely view of the rest of the restaurant however and the glinting chandeliers hung down over the main floor. 

Table settings were arranged for them with a swiftness and subtlety even Alfred Pennyworth would approve of. Jason got to sit with his back to a wall and with sightlines over the entire pace, which always made him more comfortable. The table was small, they sat very close together, making it feel more intimate and private. 

There were no prices on the menu and she didn’t grasp what the minimalist dish names actually meant. For a moment it filled her with a mute panic. Jason gave her a calm look and played with her hand on the table.

“We’ll have the chef’s menu, and the paired champagne for the table,” he said. 

She was more than happy to be swept along. And she could pronounce the champagne better than the waiter, which calmed her fear of making a fool of herself. Jason managed to look exactly as at home here as he did while having a smoke on top of a dumpster in the Alley. 

The food was all delicious, albeit in tiny portions on very large plates.

Below the table Jason ran his hand up her bare thigh, his fingers sneaking under the split in the dress.

She made eye contact as she licked the last of a creamy sorbet off her spoon. He watched with unadulterated focus. She ran her bare leg against his briefly, tastefully, and then retreated. He smirked at her. It was the smile of a man who knew exactly where his evening was heading.

He lifted his glass, with the last of its golden liquid in it. “To another year, beautiful.” 

Next>>

[kairiscorner]

i just thought of something 👀👀 what would the spiderteens think of a reader who is really nerdy or can talk on and on about a topic they're very interested in (bonus points if the topic is academics-related). they ramble about it and when they realize they're rambling they get all shy while apologizing profusely and then they stop talking out of embarrassment. 🤐🤐🤐

~ 🫐

SO CUTEEEEEE, I HOPE U LIKE THIS !!! (also happy monthsary to this blog !! consider this as a gift, to all fellow nerds and non-nerds on my blog :DD)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

• ────── ✾ ────── •

⋆｡°✩ — miles morales.

he loves how bright and wide your eyes get, how broad your smile becomes when you're rambling, going on and on about your favorite topics at school. miles doesn't have the strongest opinion on school, he finds it pretty decent, but seeing you be so passionate about your niche interest about anything in school–be it an interesting scientific theory, mathematical equation, literary piece, historical or cultural event you know well–he finds himself getting roped into your interest and... gets lost in your eyes. he lets your voice lead him to a whole lecture room where you just talk, talk, and talk about your beloved lessons as if you were the teacher, just so much more passionate about what you know and love learning about.

when you realize you're rambling is the second cutest part, you get all flustered when your gaze meets his and you feel all conscious about the way your facial muscles stretch since you've been smiling for minutes on end just talking about the lesson you love so much. the cutest part is when you giggle to yourself while talking about what you love and while you apologize for rambling. miles gets bewitched every time you giggle and smile through your intense fluster.

"hey, hey, hey, no... don't stop." he whispers to you with a loving smile as he placed his hands on yours, looking up at you with his chestnut brown eyes and warm gaze. "tell me more! you're so much better than all my teachers combined, you'll be the reason i'll get a pluses on every subject now." he said with a small chuckle and he leaned closer to you, ready to hang on to every word you say.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

⋆｡°✩ — gwen stacy.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

she's always the first one you go to when rambling about your favorite lesson being finally discussed in class; it makes for good conversation while gwen's fixing up her worn out ballet shoes or thinking over her answers while you two do homework. she chuckles to herself when you start using onomatopoeias to emphasize your points, as if she can fully understand how much you love the subject you keep going on and on about, when all she can do is witness how adorable you are being all bright-eyed and innocent when talking about the subject and topics you love.

it's only when she chuckles out an, "okay, nerd," to you that your voice falters and you try finding your train of thought again after gwen derailed it with that little comment of hers that was only meant to tease you. she notices you hesitation to talk again and gets worried, she asks you if you're doing alright and telling you she's sorry if it hurt you, she never meant for that.

she places her hands on both of your shoulders and smiles at you softly. "when i say you're a nerd, i always mean... that you're my charming, darling of a nerd. i love you and your big, fat brain and when your cute, nerdy little voice gets louder when you talk about your interests. you're the smartest and the cutest, my little nerd." she says playfully with a cheeky smile as she plants a kiss on your cheek, watching you get all flustered and stammering as she giggles and gets all flushed in the face seeing how adorable you look right now as a bumbling mess of a nerd, her nerd.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

⋆｡°✩ — pavitr prabhakar.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

he's never had to really try at school, but he does it anyway, because his main source of inspiration is your little dorky ass. he has never seen anyone be so in love with the lessons being taught, being so passionate about them—he feels the need to do even better than he's already doing at school because of you, and because of that... you two have been shipped together. a lot.

pav doesn't mind it, in fact, when you two got closer, became friends and everything, he realized you were a walking encyclopedia of the subject you like. you'd ramble on and on to him for hours if you could, with the sweetest smile on your face and the brightest shine in your eyes—it was like you could do no wrong, except for talk, talk, and talk about everything you loved that not everyone else in school did with the same fervor as you.

"you know..." he interrupted you mid-sentence as he smiled widely at you, his gaze fixed upon you as your eyes met his and you got all... flustered. "i could listen to you talk all day, you're way more fun than the teachers, i bet you know a lot more than they do for the lessons. can you maybe... be my tutor? that's the perfect excuse to ask if i can come over to your place, hmm?" he asked you with a sly smile and a smooth talking voice that had your stammering and giggling like a dork, which you were to him. "what a cute little dork i scored, so adorable!"

• ────── ✾ ────── •

⋆｡°✩ — hobie brown.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

his smile matched yours as he listened to you blabber on and on to him about this one topic you guys had during a lecture that you just couldn't help but be so in love with. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in closer to hear you better. your voice went quieter at times when you felt hobie get closer to you or heard him hum in response to your rambling, with him smiling even wider and gazing down at you so lovingly and affectionately.

he'd nod and share his own understanding of the lessons you learned, despite not being so fond of the education system, he'd very invested in what you're interested in. hobie's done his own learning and can keep up and share ideas with you, but he's also done a lot of loving with you, so having him be so supportive of your nerdy self that refuses to shut up about your favorite subject and topic and be the one to make you all flustered and stuttering is a dream combination.

he squeezes your arm gently and flashes you a sweet smile as you keep talking about your favorite topic from the lecture you had. "oh, really? damn, well, did you know..." he went on and on sharing his own understanding of the topic—which you found so cute—and he turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow. "y'know, i... kinda fancy cute little nerds like you who shut up when i y'get noticed–actually, i just fancy you and your big brain. c'mere, lemme pepper that cute little head with the biggest brain in the whole universe with kisses." he said with a slight chuckle underneath his breath at the sight of you getting more and more flustered, and becoming a completed melted mess of his little nerd as he peppered your face with kisses.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

tags !! @k4tsu3 @onginlove @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @solecitoszn @euphovlq @arachnoia @conitagray

[gyusrose]

➵ sk8ter boi -> c.b

(first person p.o.v)

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ opposites attract au , non-idol!au

summary : you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.

beomgyu x fem. reader

wc : 4.5k

(first post kinda nervous)

“come one it’ll be fun!” my friend chaewon said shaking my shoulder making me sigh.

i normally love to go out , but today is not it , even though it’s summer, it feels like a crappy , frizzy spring day.

“my hair will get all frizzy and shit chae, it’s too hot anyways for a picnic .” i said making her pout.

“aw come on!! we barely get any breaks from ballet classes , let’s take advantage of it, pretty please? “ i mean she was right , almost everyday did we go to ballet classes with little to no breaks not to mention chaewon is the one that can never go out.

“fineee i’ll go , but if my hair gets all ugly after i’ll blame it on you.”

>>

“isn’t this so cute?” chaewon said as she looked at how all the food and decorations were arranged.

she made some sandwiches that were heart shaped, neatly cut fruit , homemade chocolate chip cookies and strawberry lemonade.

ok i got to give her props for this. almost making me forget how bad i didn’t want to come.

“glad you came ?” yeji , my other friend said.

“i guess this isn’t so bad.”

the three of us began eating and talking about random stuff throughout the afternoon, mostly about ballet since it’s all we do 24/7.

“i’ll try and see if i can miss class tommorow, my feet are in no shape to keep up with practice seriously.” yeji said referring to her injury two days ago.

“you know damn well Ms. jung will go nuts, she hates it when we miss and then she gives you a whole lecture on how much a failure you are for not coming to class.” chae responded making me chuckle and nod.

yeji just sighed in defeated knowing she was right.

as we kept talking we hard noise coming from behind us. more like skateboards rolling.

we turned around to be surprised with a group of skater boys. of fucking course.

“dammit chae, you could’ve at least chosen a park with no skateboard rink , you know how much we dislike those weirdos.”

yeji bursted out laughing at my comment.

“you mean! but you’re right.” chaewon chuckled at her remark and apaologized.

“my bad, i thought they retired or something, i never see them when i come here.”

“why the fuck are they coming our way?”

they walked our direction and stopped right in front of us.

“what are you little pink princesses doing here?” one of them said.

gosh how can anyone be attracted to this? huge clothes, worn out converse, shaggy hair , don’t they have any decent clothes ?

“oh shut up yeonjun, this is a public park, can we not be here?” chaewon said.

how the fuck does she know his name ?

“woah calm down, i just thought you girls will be in that cage y’all call ballet.” he said making the rest of the guys chuckle.

“can y’all just leave us alone? go on with your dirty ass skateboards and go away.” i said anger taking over me.

“nice insult , really it almost made cry barbie wannabe.” another one of them said. this one was worse, that hair, dear lord. someone give this kid some scissors, how can he even see?

“you seriously cannot be talking about my appearance when you look like that dumbass, you-“

“stop! girls let’s just go, it’s getting late anyways.” yeji said stopping me to keep going leaving him smirking. i swear to fucking god.

>>

it was the next afternoon and i was feeling drained. i was just leaving my daily ballet classes and all i wanted to do was to take a fat ass nap. but then my grumbling stomach had other plans.

i drove to the nearest restaurant that i could find. what’s the difference? it’s all burgers and fries anyways.

my annoyance got bigger as i saw the line to order food.

god just kill me right now.

it was like a 15 minute wait until i was finally the next in line.

as i saw the person leave the register i felt someone get in front of me. i only saw the back is his head but i already knew who it was.

“excuse you asshole? i was waiting before you!” i exclaimed at him . i was hungry as fuck of course i’m angry.

he turned around smirking.

“oh my bad didn’t see you there.” that’s all he said before telling the cashier his order.

at this point i was huffing like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

“who the fuck do you think you are? i’m really fucking hungry.” i said shoving his shoulder but he didn’t budge making me even angrier.

i threw a couple of more insults at him but he just ignored me and finished ordering.

he thinks he owns the place or something?

i finally got to order after an eternity of waiting, more than half of that time was me insulting that long-haired freak.

as i got out my debit card the cashier spoke up.

“don’t worry it’s all taken care of”

huh?

“i’m sorry what? im not friends with the owner or anything.”

“the dude before you told me to pay your meal on his card.”

that skater dude ?

confusion isn’t enough to describe how lost i was.

i walked to where he was sitting not sure on what i was going to say to him.

“why did you pay for my food ?” i straight up said genuinely curious on his intentions.

dude cut the line and was a total jerk to me but then pays for my food?

“felt like doing some charity work.”

i clenched my jaw at him wanting to keep on insulting him but he payed for my food so i have to act nice for now i guess.

“look whatever this shit that’s happening just make it stop, we’re not friends or anything , thank you for the food but i really didn’t need that, now go one and leave me alone jerk.”

“looks like someone can’t take a joke, calm down, you look very funny when you’re mad _______.”

how the fuck does he know my name ?

“how the fuck do you know my name?”

he stayed silent for a moment.

“i just do , now if you excuse me i have places to be in.”

that’s all he said before leaving the restaurant leaving me utterly flabbergasted.

>>

“yeji , this isn’t a classy party, this is a straight up fuckplace.”

i looked around as all i could see is people drunk out of their minds grinding on each other , punching each other, while me and my friends are here dressed like we were having dinner with the president.

“seriously i’m sorry, my friend told me it was going to be better than this, ugh a bunch of low lives are the only ones here, i’ll go get us a drink.”

i turned to chaewon who now seemed to be getting along with some other girl leaving me looking like a loser.

and erupt of laughter caught my attention as i looked where it was coming from.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

of course it was them.

those guys.

they were surrounded by girls , some one their laps and some on their side. they had beers all over the table.

but for some reason i couldn’t find the one that has been up my ass-

oh there he was.

he was walking to the table with a beer in his hand taking a seat. i saw a girl approach him which seem to startle him for a moment but then followed on her flirting.

wanting to get away i went upstairs to see if i could find a bathroom. by the way bad idea.

still confused on how girls like that kind of men.

a bunch of drunks all over the hall that i could barely go through them.

when i thought i was finally there someone grabbed my arm.

“what’s a pretty little thing like you all alone?” an unknown man who’s breath smelled like beer and cigarettes combined said.

i’m so close to gagging right now.

“leave me alone asshole.” i said trying to get away from his grip but it was useless, he was much stronger.

“playing hard-to-get aren’t we? how about we-“

“she said to leave her alone dude.” a voice said behind him making the man turn around .

“awww what is little emo beomgyu going to do?”

suddenly a punch was thrown making me flinch at the sudden move.

the drunk man was now on the floor moaning in pain.

who i suppose is beomgyu hissed at the pain in his knuckles as he literally knocked him out.

i was still in shock but he grabbed my hand and led me to god knows where.

“why the fuck are you here? this place isn’t safe for people like you.”

“excuse you? i can go wherever i want, you can’t tell me what to do.”

he rolled his eyes in response.

“you know what i mean , like seriously, the people around here are just bad.”

“then why are you here?”

he sighed before answering.

“this is just where i grew up in, it’s hard letting go of the places i know the most , that’s why i know what i’m telling you.”

we finally got outside of the supposed “bar.”

“well thanks for saving my ass, i’ll get going now, i’d rather not bother my friends right now. “

i said and started making my way to the side walk but got stopped once again.

“you’re crazy. i just told you how dangerous this area is and you want to go home alone, at 1am by yourself ? “

“well my phones out of battery so i can’t call no one to pick me up and i don’t like taking ubers.” i shrugged.

“you’re so oblivious god, i’ll take you home dummy.”

yeah right.

“pftt in what? you’re little skateboard? no thanks i’ll walk.”

he’s got to be fucking with me.

“very funny, but no i have a car, you know my life doesn’t just revolve around skateboarding.” he said dangling his car keys in my face and led me to where he was parked.

damn it , his car was nice.

i was hoping to make fun of it but i can’t.

it wasn’t even dirty, it looked almost new and not cheap at all.

“your car’s not bad.” i said trying to keep my cool. i’m not trying to make his ego burst or anything.

“thanks , i can tell how hard it was for you to say that.” he said smirking.

see this is why i keep compliments to myself.

“so where to? “

>>



The car rider was pretty much him asking me basic questions nothing too special, but still kind of awkward. i didn’t really know him like that.

“you’re served princess.”

“ugh stop calling me that , you’re making me regret even getting in your car.” he just laughed at my words.

“calm down, just go home and rest.” he said but then he looked like he wanted to ask me something .

“umm do you think i could maybe have your number? it’s nothing like that, just maybe to um kind of um keep in contact or i don’t know, never mind i’m-“

“it’s alright.”

i responded tired of listening to him ramble.

not going to lie, it’s fun seeing him in this state, shy and all, making me feel bigger.

he handed me his phone and i typed in my number then giving it back to him.

“alright then um have a good sleep.” he said awkwardly and drive away before i could even answer.

i found myself laughing at the way he suddenly acted. kind of cute.

>>

during this past month i found myself actually getting along with beomgyu.

since the day he dropped me off and gave him my number, we’ve been texting and meeting up places, obviously we still argue and bully each other but we both know we’re just joking around.

i never thought that i would become actual friends with a skater boy, just from how i talked about them last week is enough to tell how i feel about them.

now i’m sitting here with chaewon and yeji at a diner. not paying much attention to what they’re saying since beomgyu started to message me.

“she’s so fucking annoying i swear.” yeji said making both her and chaewon laugh.

they both quiet down when they saw me not paying attention at all.

“umm miss? you’ve been on your phone this whole time. what’s the point of going out with us acting like that?” chaewon stated making me look up at her for the first since i got here.

“what did you say? sorry it was just something in my phone.”

“clearly, you’re always on that damn phone nowadays, who are you texting nonstop?”

i cannot tell them i’m texting beomgyu, i will not hear the end of it.

“no one, just a childhood friend i was catching up with.” good lie.

chaewon looked at me suspiciously knowing automatically i wasn’t being fully honest.

“mmm i don’t buy that, let me see.” she tried to take my phone but i quickly moved my hand and put it behind me.

“woah that’s definitely not a “childhood friend” why are you being so secretive?”

“you’re definitely hiding something ______.” yeji added.

“it’s just- ugh , you girls are gonna eat me alive.”

“aw c’mon , it can’t be that bad, give me that phone.”

i gave up and let them both see my messages knowing i couldn’t just hide it from them forever.

both widened their eyes and looked directly at me.

“are you shitting me right now?”

“HIM?!

“weren’t y’all about to kill each other that other day?”

i shushed them at how loud they were being.

this cannot get any more embarrassing.

i snatched my phone from their hands starting to blush for no reason.

“i don’t know we just started to hang out, that’s it, nothing more.”

“you could do so much better though.” yeji said .

“no no no it’s not like that i swear.”

“he’s not your type though, those baggy clothes..” chaewon said scrunching up her face making yeji agree.

“you’re right you wouldn’t fall for a guy like that, we shouldn’t worry about it.” yeji said laughing.

yeah , why on earth would i ever like a guy like beomgyu?

>>

“are you serious right now? “ i stomped my feet angrily at my brother telling me that he can’t pick me up since he got football practice after i repeatedly told him to tell me in advance if he couldn’t, but no, the mister waits until last minute to tell me. now i have no ride home.

it was a gloomy friday afternoon after ballet practice, all my friends have already gone home and i feel bad if i call them right now asking them to come back and pick me up.

who else could pick me?

of course i know.

i clicked on his contact on my phone and waited anxiously for his answer.

the phone ringed for about four times, me know thinking he wasn’t going to answer.

“hello? “ a deep voice answered . who the fuck is this?

“beomgyu?”

“yes this is me, you woke me up from my nap you fucker.”

yup that was him.

“i need your help, could you maybe pick me up from the ballet studio? long story , i just need a ride. please?” this was in fact the first time i was being polite to him.

“seriously? ugh whatever, i’m just doing this because i’ve got nothing better to do.”

>>

“awww look at you in your cute leotard.” beomgyu said teasingly from the drivers seat as i got into his car.

“shut the fuck up, i was too lazy to change.”

“what do y’all even do in there? stand on your tippy toes all day?”

this man really got the nerve.

“ like you could even do that with your lame ass skateboard.”

“someone’s mad that th- oh you’ve got to be shitting me…”

he said making me look at his direction.

i was so caught up in the conversation i didn’t even notice the huge rainstorm that was happening which flooded the street that lead to my house. now what?

“yeah no way my car’s going through that.” he said referring to the huge body of water a couple of feet away. you could even see cars stuck in it.

“just leave me here and i’ll walk, it’s not that far anyways.”

“are you dumb? you’re not doing that, i’ll just take you to my place, at least until the rain is over.”

i didn’t really have any better choice than that. so i guess to his house i go.

>>

i’ve always liked beomgyu’s house. it felt very cozy and warm. i never told it to his face though, just so his ego can get even bigger? no thanks.

“here’s the bathroom, since you wanted to take a bath.”

i told him in the car ride that i felt tired and a nice warm bath makes me feel better.

i turned on the water and filled it up to submerge myself into the hot water.

i tried my best to relax , but to ugly sensation keeps coming back to me.

even though i wouldn’t be attracted to a guy like beomgyu, he very much does.

i don’t know what it is, he’s not my type at all.

the way he moves his hair out of his face, the way he does tricks with that stupid skateboard, the way covers his scars with stickers instead of bandaids. i hate it , i hate the way he makes me feel. i shouldn’t feel like this. what would my friends say? what would his friends say?

ugh this is too much, i need to get out.

it wasn’t a long bath, but i think was long enough to make my legs feel better.

shit, i’ve got no clothes to change into.

god must fucking love me right?

i awkwardly called out beomgyu’s name hoping i don’t have to scream at the top of my lungs for him to hear me.

thankfully he did.

“can you give me some spare clothes? i kinda have nothing to wear.” i said trying to avoid eye contact as i was only in a towel.

he chuckled and brought me some shorts and a t-shirt. not bad.

“you look cute i guess.” he said going back to his bed as i walked out of his closet.

cute? what’s up with him? shouldn’t he tell me i look disgusting ? weird ?

“so um, where am i sleeping?” i asked awkwardly, gosh what’s happening to me ?

“in my bed? do you normally sleep on the floor or something ?”

“oh with you? i just thought you know…”

“oh trust me ______, nothing like that is going to happen tonight.” he reassured.

>>

it was currently 2am and the thunderstorm somehow got worse making the rain sound echo through out the house.

beomgyu and i were still awake though. we watched a movie or two and ate some fried chicken, the awkward tension that was once here slowly disappeared throughout the night.

both of us are now talking about nonsense when suddenly beomgyu gets a god awful idea.

“let’s play truth or dare “

“what are we? in middle school?”

“aww come on! got any better ideas?”

“i guess not.”

“truth or dare? “ he asked me.

“ truth.”

“dammit, pussy. anyways , um do you have a crush on someone?”

that’s a weird question…

“um i guess so, it’s probably one sided though.”

“one sided? who is it ? im curious now.”

“nuh uh, only one question, so now you truth or dare?”

he thought for a second then spoke.

“i’ll do truth.”

“and you were up my ass for choosing truth , look at you. alright then what’s your ideal type?”

he furrowed his eyebrows and took a while to respond, making me think if this was an uncomfortable question for him.

“someone that i won’t get bored with.”

huh?

“that’s all? no ‘loyalty’ ‘kindness’ or something?”

“nah, that’s all too corny knowing damn well i just want someone i can laugh with.”

okay…

we kept asking questions back and forth, each becoming more and more personal.

until then…

“truth or dare?” beomgyu asked me.

“dare.”

“i dare you to kiss me.”

my brain shut down for a second. WHAT?

“wait what?” i tried to act cool , but on the inside i was having a meltdown.

“you heard me, let’s just try it out, nothing too crazy.”

i took a good ten seconds to think over this.

i mean he’s right, it’s all fun and jokes, it’s not like we’re going to full on make out right?

i slowly leaned into his rosy lips and connected them with mine.

i didn’t expect it to feel THIS good.

he was a good kisser, he completely took over as he kept the kiss going longer than it should have.

i pulled away hesitantly even though i wanted this to keep going.

“sorry _____ , i shouldn’t have asked you to kiss me , i knew you would be weirded out by it but i just couldn’t help myself i wa- “ i cut him off by kissing him again, this time i took control , guessing be was still registering that i kissed him.

he eventually responded to the kiss putting his hands on my waist, pulling me closer to him. he slowly lowered me into the bed, being on top of me.

the kiss got more intense as he went down lower, sucking on my neck down my collarbone making me moan at the feeling.

he kept kissing lower as he reached my breast. he cupped one of them into his hand squeezing it while he left hickeys all over them.

damn he got some experience i can tell.

it didn’t take long for both of us to be completely nude , we were desperate.

beomgyu went down and slowly spread my legs.

he looked up at me and smirked before going down on me.

he started licking my slit while rubbing my clit making me bite my lip.

i entangled my hands in his already messy hair not wanting him to stop anytime soon.

“ fuck yes , just like that beomgyu.”

he moaned in response as he started sucking my clit. he then inserted two fingers in me with no warning making me yelp.

he started to move his fingers in and out in a slow moving, slowly making it faster.

god he was too good at this.

my legs closed at the sudden sensation of an orgasm and when i thought i was going to cum he took his fingers out.

“what the fuck beomgyu?!”

he chuckled and said..

“clam down princess, i can’t let you cum this easily, seems like someone’s desperate.”

i groaned in frustration and rolled my eyes.

of course he can’t stop fucking teasing me.

he then went through his night table and pulled out a condom and put it on.

he lined himself up in my entrance before looking straight at me.

“you sure you want to do this?”

made my heart warm up.

“yes , i’m sure beomgyu.” i said grabbing his head and kissing him as he went in me.

i haven’t had sex in a long time, so it was more painful than usual.

thankfully beomgyu started slow making it easier to adjust to his size.

“feeling better princess?” i nodded which gave him the green light to go harder.

the pain was long gone , now replaced with pure pleasure.

“ugh fuck yes beomgyu harder.” i moaned

beomgyu grabbed my hands and intertwined them with his as he kept kissing me.

he pulled away and grabbed on of my legs and spread it allowing him to go deeper.

no man has ever made me feel like i am right now.

i feel like a virgin that’s never experienced any sort of sexual interaction before.

i was in a state of euphoria.

i leaned forward switching positions , me now being on top.

i started bouncing on him, slapping noises echoed through the room as i went faster and faster.

i leaned my head back as i felt my climax approaching.

“shit, fuck yes baby, you look so pretty like this.” he said through moans as he rubbed my clit.

he grabbed my waist and started thrusting at an ungodly speed.

“fuck yes, gyu.”

he slapped my ass before turning us back again with him on top.

now he put both my legs on his shoulder as we both came closer to our orgasm.

my back arched as i came leaving me gasping for air.

beomgyu pulled out and took his condom off cumming on my stomach leaving him like me, out of breath.

he laid next to me for a minute in silence. leaving us to process what just happen.

“you know, i’ve always had a crush on you.” he said making me frown and look at him .

“i’m sorry what?”

“yeah, since we were in high school, all my friends knew and tried to make me go up to you but i was too much of a pussy to go talk to you, since you know, you were popular and i knew i had no chance with you.”

no way…

“beomgyu , you’ve liked me since then?”

“yes believe me, i figured the only way to talk to you would be bothering you, so that’s what i did , and you see it worked.” he said smirking .

i smacked my lips slapping his shoulder lightly.

“i guess you could now start teaching me those skateboard lessons you talked about. “

[silent-sanctum]

hi mijin!!!! i love your fics so much and i really wanted to request a childhood best friend/ballerina reader x jotaro and he shows up to her show with his new red haired friend after 50 days of absence? sorry if it doesn’t make sense my english not my first language😭🙏💕

no worries! I got you regardless anon 😉 Though I gotta admit, I'm not too well-versed with ballet terminologies so I did what I can to give your request justice. Hope you enjoy 😊💌

Swan's Dance - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 3.5k

The sun was about to set, amber light spilling through the glass pane of the windows and casting shadows into the room you occupied. Dressed in tights, a form-fitting shirt, and a pair of slightly worn ballet shoes, you set your legs atop the bars before you started practicing, stretching yourself to ensure minimal injury.

Ballet has been something you’ve learned since you were 6. It was one of those life instances where all of this was inspired by one or two showings of your current interest. Back then, your family tagged you along with them to watch a ballet show in a foreign country and when the room dimmed to leave only the stage lights on, your eyes never left the dance presented to the audience.

You were mesmerized with how elegant the ballerinas performed on stage with their shining outfits and graceful movements, syncing themselves to the melody of the orchestra with clean-cut expertise.

Sooner or later, you wanted to be like one of them and led to your parents buying you the essentials for a beginner’s first ballet practice- a pair of ballet shoes, leotards, and tights.

You’ve yet to perform in a proper show, always to preoccupied with other responsibilities, but you never ceased practicing for when the time comes for you to shine, you would debut with a memorable “bang”.

It was fortunate that your school had a club dedicated for aspiring ballet dancers. Well… it was labeled as “contemporary” but it was similar.

And so with your form well-adjusted and set, you clapped to give yourself a little self-motivating boost and went over to your duffle bag to retrieve the cassette player. Though you did find the tape that had the recording of the classical music you’ve grown accustomed to, you couldn’t find the player itself even after shuffling through your stuff multiple times.

“Aish,” you groaned, raking your fingers through your hair. “Why- Did I even remove that thing out of the bag to begin with?”

Did I though? You thought back to the places you visited prior to now starting from the school’s entry and rationalized- classroom (doubt your teacher would allow music to be played there), restroom (why would it be there?), cafeteria (you rather not blast classical music for the world to hear), rooftop-

With a flicker of realization, you let out one heavy sigh as you slowly slumped over with your face in your hands. “… Shit.” You tend to review the steps in your head all the time and to do that, you played music and recalled what movements coordinated with the accompanying tune.

What inconvenient timing it was for your beloved cassette player to be left alone in a dusty rooftop that’s situated after three flights of stairs, probably locked at this hour too.

Now I can’t be at peace with one my stuff missing. That was grandma’s gift too… You threw both fists in the air and released a whine into the void. “And I changed too damn-”

“Hey.”

You dropped your arms immediately and turned to the doorway with surprise, not expecting anyone to drop by, most especially the infamous delinquent. You had to blink hard once or twice just to make sure you weren’t imagining the local bad boy leaning against the frame, one hand in his pocket and a cigarette in between his teeth. Jojo was it? That’s what my classmates been calling him as.

“H-Hi?”

“Looking for something?”

You looked away, sighing. “Well yeah, but it isn’t anything big. It’s just a personal belonging.”

“Is it this?” The raven-haired lifted the other hand from behind him to reveal a familiar square player. You widened your eyes and stood in an instant. He stretched out the device to you. “I found it laying on top of a broken desk back at the roof.”

“That’s mine yes!” You hurried over to him only to pause at the lack of “punk-ish” attitude from him. You narrowed your eyes with suspicion. “Hmm…”

He cocked a brow at you. “What?”

“Aren’t you gonna… you know… retract your arm or raise it just to toy with me? Or is there a catch I have to consider after I get this?”

This time, the delinquent tilted his head with obvious confusion and hints of irritation from the way his brows furrowed. “Why would I do that? Do you want me to do that?”

“No! No, I actually prefer things to be simple like this.” You chuckled, nervous and slightly embarrassed at yourself. He handed over the item into your possession. “I guess I watched too many shows is all.”

He didn’t bother answering back and you didn’t expect him to. “You know, 90% of the school’s have already gone home by this point. The sun’s setting and all but you’re still here.”

“Mom’s having guests over and getting bombarded with small talk when I arrive is something I’d rather not happen.”

“So you plan to camp in school grounds ‘til night?”

No response. Brave guy.

“Why don’t you hang here instead of aimlessly wandering around like a homeless person? At the very least, you have a valid excuse you can say to your mother why you went home later than usual.”

The delinquent regarded the suggestion, turning to look at you. “Teachers allow you to stay this late?”

You smiled. “I’m part of the contemporary dance club and our moderator is pretty lenient with us as long as we use our time wisely, but alas-” I gestured to the empty dance room. “The other members are not taking this whole routinely practice as serious as I am.”

He scoffed, mumbling under his breath. “Why bother joining in the first place?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You said. “Well whatever. There’s a fan in the corner where you can use while you wait for time to pass.”

“… Okay.”

“Hold on!” You raised an arm, stopping him. His brows furrowed once more. “You haven’t told me your name yet, Mr. Bad Boy.” You held out a hand.

“Y/N.”

The raven-haired stared at the raised hand, shifting glances back and forth from it to your face. Eventually, he brought one hand out from his pocket and took your hand to shake.

“Jotaro.”

And just like that, the remaining hours continued with a one-person audience as you let the music echo in the space while your body flowed with the melody, synchronizing the steps you played out in your head onto kinesthetic movements.

The average time it took for you to be satisfied with what you did was around 4-5 hours with a few short breaks slipped in-between.

From time to time, you couldn’t help but keep taking brief glances at the delinquent sitting in the back of the room through the mirror, and it certainly wasn’t helping that the latter was also watching you throughout. Sure he took a couple naps, but majority of his time in the room, he kept his eyes on you.

Having people watch you wasn’t new since you had your family and a couple of past friends watch you do your routines before, but there was something different when it’s someone you just met that’s of the opposite sex and is notoriously known to be a rebel heartthrob figure among students.

You tried not to think about it but even to you, you had to admit it was hard to not be even a bit self-conscious when he’s in the room.

Hours passed and you wrapped up today’s practice. On the way out, Jotaro had offered to walk you home and as much as your teenage shyness wanted to say “it’s fine”, you realized it was late and the streets were mostly dark, increasing the risk of running into… unfortunate circumstances.

You got home safely that night and you were thankful that he made sure you were fine.

Unexpectedly, this wouldn’t be the last time you’d experience his stoic kindness or his prominent presence around you.

Ever since his first visit, the delinquent would always drop by the dance studio nonchalantly and when asked whether you forgot something again, he’d respond “no” and would proceed to take a nap inside until you finished practicing.

He probably wants to walk me home for my safety. But why? You’ve walked home by yourself before at night and you’re still in one piece. The realization of having him be by your side nearly everyday…

Your chest throbbed and you felt your cheeks fume at the idea.

Through the weeks, Jotaro resting in the dance studio while you executed the steps became part of both your schedules and you weren’t complaining. You grew to appreciate his company and unlike before, you started to feel comfortable and less conscious about what you were doing.

Though the focus of his gaze still caused the butterflies to swarm in your stomach.

Figuring he'd continue visiting, you started to talk to Jotaro during your short breaks. At first, it went as rough as you’d expect- an awkward opening here, him not replying there, and dead air everywhere. However, with enough time, you figured out what topics could encourage the delinquent to talk, and to your relief, the conversation turned from one-way to two.

Your topics started from the interests you both had, which then branched of to discussions of each other’s sneak peak into how their lives went, and it had reached to the point where you were able to freely rant about anything to your new friend.

At times, you were concerned if you started to become a bit overbearing for Jotaro to handle, becoming aware of how you began rambling about the technicality, history, and examples of favorite ballet shows. You’d gauge his body language and expression if he was, but none could be seen when all he showed you was him in a relaxed posture, angled slightly to where you were to let you know he listened despite hiding his face with his hat.

You’ve reached the point where even walks home became a trip filled with casual chatter with occasional stops at open convenient stores.

More and more, it grew harder for you to not blush and deny your growing feelings towards the quiet watcher. You kept those emotions to yourself for now, not wanting to rush things with him. Besides, you didn’t know how he would even respond to that.

And you’re not ready for his answer at the moment.

With even more passage of time, Jotaro grew more open to talk to you while you practiced. He’d question your choice of music, how you kept your form stable throughout the piece, and many more out of curiosity and you happily answered each one of them.

Wanting to push things a bit further, you turned to him and asked him to help you execute a couple moves during a pas de deux. It was a classic among popular ballet shows and just the thought of dancing alongside a partner made you giddy inside.

Of course, you shouldn’t be expecting the guy to do the standard stances and movements since he knew next to nothing about ballet, let alone contemporary dance itself.

Surprisingly enough, Jotaro accepted your requests and slowly approached you in the middle of the room and waited for instructions.

You thoroughly briefed him what should be done and demonstrated to the best of your ability on how to do them just to serve as visual guidance. You guided his hands on where they should be and may it be on your hands or waist, both touches sent tiny fluttering sensations throughout your body.

Soon enough, you started to practice your arabesques, promenades, and a couple of simpler lifts. The next few days of practice were rough by your standards, but it was fun and low-key exciting for Jotaro to be assisting you with practice. Whenever he’d make an error or you’d collide with him on a wrong turn, he’d make a tiny grunt and mumble a quick and quiet “sorry” and you’d giggle.

You weren’t complaining. In fact, you liked when the oh-so-cool bad boy of the school turned to a flustered mess but was still willing to learn to provide assistance in a field he’s not good in.

With enough repetition, you’d become surprised when the delinquent would become somewhat “precise” in his movements, and soon you were able to familiarize yourself with a couple of pas de deux stances and steps. When asked about how Jotaro felt about helping you, he simply said “it’s fine” albeit with faintly red cheeks and an averted gaze.

Hours of practice would eventually come to fruition when one day, your teacher announced that you would be the main dancer of an upcoming ballet performance in 2 months, and out of sheer excitement, you immediately broke the news to Jotaro the second you stepped into the dance studio.

“That’s… good news.”

“Right?! All my efforts have finally been recognized and I get to debut on stage!” You couldn’t stop yourself from hugging him nor did you notice what you’ve done. “To show my talents to others… What a dream.” You smiled against his chest, sighing to yourself.

“Oi…” You let out a “hm?” at your friend as you stepped back a bit to look at him. “You showed that to me though… aren’t you happy?”

“Of course I am!” You said with a wide smile. “I’m very much thankful for all you’ve done to keep me company when you could’ve just gone home.”

“In fact, I’m so grateful that I want you to watch my show! You did have to endure me sweating in tights for weeks, so you deserve to see me at my best in a proper dress with all the props and dancers and lights and everything else!”

Jotaro stared at you with wide eyes, unable to get his words in due to your eager ramblings. You snapped yourself out of your little happy bubble and cleared your throat. “Ah I mean, again, you don’t have to. I know you aren’t really into ballet or just fancy-shmancy theater in general.”

“I’ll go.”

You gaped at him with rapidly heating cheeks. “R-Really?”

The delinquent rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ll change my mind or not. We’ll see.”

“Well if you do, I expect a congratulatory bouquet when I’m done with my performance,” You said, cheeky. “Just a little something like that would mean a lot for me~”

Jotaro had his brows furrowed in a way that he’s confused rather than irritated. To spare him from thinking further, you landed a playful slap on his bicep. “I’m kidding. You don’t have to do that. Though I do appreciate it if you'd come to the show for me.”

Knowing him, you expected him to follow his own choices and you didn’t need to force him if his choice wasn’t to go. Regardless, you held up your pinky finger. “Promise me you’ll at least try coming.”

He glanced at your hopeful expression and sighed, hooking your small finger with his. “Don’t take it personally when I can’t.”

“No worries.” You chuckled. “Just follow your guts Jotaro-ssi. Sometimes, it does make good decisions for you.”

~

The day of your performance dawned and here you were- waiting backstage, occasionally peeking through the red curtain to see the growing audience occupy their seats. To see if the delinquent came or not.

You saw your parents occupy their seats, alongside a handful of friends who wanted to watch you dance, but no matter how much you scanned through the numerous heads currently inside the theater, Jotaro wasn’t here.

In fact, you haven’t seen him for 50 days ever since you’ve announced that you’d star in your debut stage. He had been absent when you began practicing for it, and you believed that it was perhaps due to the other people now involved and he didn’t want to be standing awkwardly in the corner.

But a tiny part of you hoped that maybe he could have at least dropped by a visit post-practice or see him passing by a corridor or something.

You couldn’t find him anywhere in school as if he disappeared out of the blue.

“Everyone! Show starts in a minute! Get into your positions!” A staff member cried out and everyone hurried to their respective spots, and you knew they wanted you in yours as soon as possible.

You spared one last glance out the curtain and still haven’t seen him among the audience. You ignored how your chest seemed to cave in on itself from disappointment. Did he at least try like he promised?

The distracting thoughts immediately left your mind as soon as the music blared through the speakers. The other ballerinas stepped out into the spotlight first, dancing in sync to convey the story of the show. Soon enough, it was your turn to shine as the main character.

Just as you had practiced, you entered the scene with elegance and poise, putting all your emotions into your routines alongside your fellow ballet dancers.

However, in the midst of your steps just as the music swelled, you caught a glimpse of the theater doors open to an unfamiliar red-haired student with vertical scars over his eyes enter, ushering someone inside in a hurry. You had to look away for a moment just as your male partner coordinated with your movements, initiating a pas de deux.

Though once you got the opportunity you got to see the doors again, your breath left your lungs and a wide, relieved smile broke through your face the second you spot a familiar raven-haired delinquent stepped inside with one of his arms cradled in a sling and his face partially bruised.

Once inside, he looked towards the stage and for a second, your attention wasn’t towards the watching crowd but to him alone.

Jotaro came.

He kept his promise.

~

The show ended with a successful bang as loud rounds of applause erupted from everyone in the room as you and the others bowed.

Normally, you’d stay for a minute to congratulate the crew and the dancers for their hard work, but the anticipation of meeting with your friend came as a priority than anything else. You dressed back into casuals, faint traces of glittery make-up still intact despite your efforts in removing them, and you hurried out back.

You were met with the unfamiliar red-head together with Jotaro who had his face hidden under his hat and his free arm kept behind him as they approached you.

“Y/N right?” The other man said.

“Yeah?”

He let out a hand with a polite smile. “Kakyoin Noriaki. Pleasure to meet you.” You smiled back and shook it.

“Likewise.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you from a friend here.” He nudged the raven-haired forward, who still had his gaze averted away from you. “Seems like he’s had a lot of fondness over you, always mentioning how he had somewhere important he has to go after dealing with some familial issues.” Maybe whatever those issues were, it caused him to have that injury.

“Kakyoin, I swear to god if you don’t stop talking…” Jotaro grumbled.

But you didn’t care when your mind blanked at the thought of the delinquent fretting over how he can fulfill his promise to you. In a second, your face fumed and you burst in a fit of flattered giggles. “That’s sweet of you. I truly appreciate it.”

“Oh, and he has something to say as well.” Kakyoin elbowed his friend.

Jotaro, still embarrassed and shy, stepped forward towards you and you stood still, expecting whatever he had planned to be delivered to you. With a clear of his throat, he brought his arm out to reveal a bouquet of roses that had a little tag with your name written on it. “Congratulations… on your debut.”

You widened your eyes and your heart raced in your chest. “Y-You remembered?”

He nodded.

You accepted the token and hugged it close to you, finding the scent of the flowers much sweeter. “You didn’t have to but…” you smiled with so much gratitude that your eyes closed from the effort. “Thank you. I love it.”

The delinquent nodded again, this time with his cheeks a bright red.

In return, you inched forward and got onto your tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. This time, he did turn to you with surprise. With open arms, you asked. “Can I?”

“You already did it once and kissed my cheek… what difference does it make?”

You took that as a definitive “yes” and you wrapped your arms around him, making sure not to hurt his broken arm. Jotaro huffed and lightly placed his uninjured arm on the small of your back. “I’ll assume that this sweet gesture of yours means that you’ll be coming by to visit me more often than before, right?”

Leaning back, you looked up to find Jotaro smiling faintly at you.

He nodded once more.

“I’d like that. Very much.”

[njamil21]

Been a while since I uploaded some WIPs! I’m currently cleaning and packing up my apartment, so full illustrations will be a bit tough for a while.

I had recently finished chapter 5 in Twisted Wonderland (yes, I’m behind, I know) and I’m still very upset that the NRC boys never got proper dancing costumes. I know, realistically, they were probably trying to save money on models and not make whole new outfits for cards that won’t be released but it feels like such a disappointing choice overall. Having them dance in school uniforms to represent the whole school seems fine but Kalim’s model made him stand out too much and thus, would overshadow Vil as the lead. Plus, it would look very lazy on Night Raven’s College’s part to not get them new outfits and Vil doesn’t seem like he’d actually be fond of the school uniform cliche for a dance group. So I thought it would be fun to design some concept sketches for outfits they could have worn during the VDC event!

I only did the main vocalists and dancers this time around so it’s only Epel, Jamil, and Vil, and depending on how much energy I have in the next week, I’ll see if I can do the others. Everyone’s outfits are based on their ceremonial robes so their color palette is black, purple, and gold so that still represents NRC properly. Each outfit will have a short or cropped jacket and a black undershirt to reference the cloak. The main trio will also have sheer purple overskirts to mimic the silhouette of the cloak.

Please do not edit or repost without permission. (I edited my commission prices!)

Adding individual outfit details/notes under the cut so it doesn’t clog your dash.

Epel is meant to be Vil’s poisoned apple so he has that as an additional theme in his outfit. So I had his collar resemble a sliced apple while giving him apple blossom hairclips and an earring to frame his face. I wanted to play up his cute factor (which Epel probably wouldn’t enjoy, sorry dearest) and he already has a short stature so I kept his overskirt and pants rather short so that he wouldn’t be swallowed up by the outfit and have it elongate his legs. There are also frilled cuffs so his hand movements will stand out and give an added doll-like cuteness to his look. I imagine he would incorporate some ballet into his choreography since Vil made him practice it so ballet flats felt like a logical choice. I thought it would also be eye-catching to decorate his tights with little beads to represent apple seeds which would glimmer in the stage lights.

Jamil’s outfit contains a lot of ribbons since I wanted to reference the original Snow White fairytale where one of the objects that was used to kill Snow White was a corset ribbon. So I thought it would be cool to lace that ribbon across Jamil’s chest to look corsetted but not actually be corsetted so he can run, jump, and dance on stage just fine. I’m thinking of giving his short jacket a hood so the collar isn’t really detailed or elaborate but can be played with and changed however needed in the choreography. I thought it would also be fun to incorporate that corset look on his pants, exposing his legs somewhat and adding an interesting texture to his legs. I also added bows on his earring, ponytail, and shoe laces which would create an interesting motion as he dances, especially with the latter one showcasing Jamil’s footwork.

Vil is the star of the show so it stands to reason he looks the most queenly. I wanted to evoke the Evil Queen in his design without overpowering the ceremonial robe look so I added a scalloped high collar, an overskirt that’s more flared and dramatic, and a hair comb (as another reference to the original fairytale) that resembles a crown. I also thought it would be cool to give him a cape since Vil always wanted to play a more heroic role in movies and shows so this would be a way for him to manifest that. Vil’s jacket is a touch shorter so it can expose his stomach a bit and break up the outfit somewhat and I thought it would be very cool to give Vil some thigh-high boots, overall giving the look a more sexy vibe. I added small mirrors on his feet for a couple of reasons such as referencing the mirror hall at the school, the mirror the Evil Queen consults, and using it to reflect back some of the stage lights that shine on him. I also wanted to give him some longer acrylic nails because I saw that Vil’s overblot form, he had these claw jewelry pieces and thought it would be a cool sequence to his nails transform into that.

I had a lot of fun with these designs! Let me know if I should do Ace, Deuce, Kalim, and Rook as well!

[starsaroundsaturn]

here's a random tag idea I had and want to see how far it goes:

what are 4 or more core memories you have of growing up? (core memories in the sense of inside out's core memories, memories that speak to who you are) (bonus points if you can tag people in those core memories or who remind you of those core memories!)

I'll start

One: ballet. I danced for fourteen years, and I vividly remember sitting or standing on the side of the studio, watching other people dance and waiting for my turn, or counting so that I started perfectly when I was supposed to, and chaines across the floor being so dizzying until I finally learned how to spot. I also remember the process of putting on tights and a leotard when I was too small for it to be easy, and the strange change between wearing leather shoes and wearing canvas shoes that hugged my feet so much better. I think this speaks to my sense of art and joy.

Two: the old market with mom. in the down town of our city, there's an old section of cobbled roads paved with bricks where the mortar has almost entirely worn away and the bricks are smooth around the edges. years ago there were huge slides there before they were taken down (imagine two-story slides) and we would slide down those slides on pieces of cardboard or parchment paper so as to slide as smoothly and quickly as possible. there are candy shops there that made me feel like Charlie in the chocolate factory. there were wonder-shops of toys and games and puzzles and furs, and whenever I go there I still feel like a very little child. I think this speaks to my sense of wonder and delight.

Three: ziplining and high-wires at summer camp. I remember that other people were very scared with these, and in a way I was too, but there was this utter peace and this vast feeling inside me. I went across the whole high wire, shaking the entire time, and I feel like this is the memory that reminds me I have courage to white knuckle things the whole way through, to be terrified and do well at the same time.

Four: hugs. About the most important thing for me in my life was hugs, both from my parents, running at them to surprise them while yelling, "HUG ATTACK!" or hugging my friends. when I was around fourteen I met my best friend, who is willing to hug me for as long as I need to be hugged. One particular hug that stands out to me is a hug that a dance teacher gave me when I was earnestly crying about not doing well in a dance class, and she said, "you care about this so much, and you're trying your best. How could that not be enough?" this, I think, is love and compassion

for courage, tagging @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover for wonder tagging @astral-strider for art tagging @eleilinnrallin for joy tagging @syls-chaos for love tagging @thistelltaleheart for compassion tagging @called-kept

[numbregrets]

   　　   　　　    　　　　 𝒻𝓁𝑜𝓇𝒶 𝒶𝒹𝒶𝓂𝓈

flora adams is based on flora from sleeping beauty. she is a 25 year old fairy, ballet teacher, and uses she/her pronouns. she has the power of spell casting, beauty shifting and aesthetic manipulation.

penned by HARPER

reflection

face claim: zaria simone sexuality: heterosexual height: 5'3 eye color: brown hair color: brown piercings: ear lobes tattoos: n/a

attitude

positive traits: loyal, determined, honest, self-aware, constructive, nurturing, protective negative traits: confrontational, can be a bit controlling at times, perfectionist, overdramatic, a know-it-all likes: the color pink, aesthetics, lipstick, the perfect cream blush, gucci flora, when the weather is warm but not too warm, perfectly worn-in pointe shoes, wearing ribbons in her hair, designer brands, being the 'mom' friend, fashion magazines, romance novels, orchids dislikes: players, aggressive house music, her fave products being discontinued, smelling bad, the patriarchy, scary movies, eating red meat, the smell of gasoline, itchy sweaters, the idea of having to settle, not being able to find an outfit phobias: n/a hobbies:  shopping, splurging on high-end beauty products, collecting perfume like trophies, dressing up for every occasion- even if it's to go to the grocery store, watching reality TV, buying her and her friends matching pajama sets, going on nature walks (for the photo ops), drinking red wine, tending to her little garden on her balcony. aesthetic: stopping to smell the roses, the swirling of a thick red wine in a wide glass, the sound of point shoes on a wooden floor, ballerina core, the gentle spritz of perfume in the bathroom, gold jewelry, the feeling of sliding into satin sheets, femineity personified, the sound of a bell chiming as you walk into a shop, the wings of a butterfly brushing against your cheek.

relations

mother: tbd father: tbd sibling(s): n/a pet(s): n/a

headcanons

❀ flora refuses to eat the crust on her sandwiches. grilled cheese?? no crust. turkey sandwich?? no crust. crust is not compatible with her pallet, nor her aesthetic, but she ALWAYS makes sure to share with others… such as the squirrels.  ❀ her favorite flower is an orchid because they are the most sensitive and docile plant that require a lot of time, attention and nurturing. her apartment is full of orchids.  ❀ meri, fallon, and aurora are everything to her and she’ll drop the elegant poise to rough house anyone who even breathes negatively in their direction. those are the three people flora would walk to the ends of the earth with. there is no doubt in her mind that if they needed her, she'd be there before they could even ask her for help. ❀ flora is not a very trusting person, she has a lot of walls up due to how protective she is of herself and her friends. she doesn't remember much about her life before evermore, but she listens to her gut. when it tells her something isn't right... she listens. most of the time. ❀ flora is a sucker for a romcom, a romance novel, cheesy cliches and hopeless romantic tropes; the idea of love is the most beautiful thing in the entire world for her.  ❀ pink is her security blanket; she feels empowered by its pleasant and feminine association. it makes her smile to see things in the color pink that aren’t normally hued that way; pink hammers ?? beautiful. razors that are pink ?? stunning. the only pink she doesn’t agree with is the pink tax; down with the patriarchy !!  ❀ flora is a swiftie for sure, and her favorite album is lover. she’s choreographed a dance for every song on the album. ❀ ballet slippers are her emotional support shoe; if she can’t figure something out, she puts on her slippers.  ❀ she tries to avoid using her magic unless she absolutely has to, not knowing enough about this world to know the kind of impact it could have. she DOES us it on her flowers though, if they need a little extra help.

[amana-tells]

Entry 8

Amanda’s overall vibe is a bit unique and people tend to associate her with the following:

Black Nail Polish

She thinks darker colors suit her better so if her nails arent black they’re a midnight blue or a shade of maroon. It makes her look edgy and cool. The people who know her, knows that the only dark thing about her is her black nail polish and combat boots.

Shin High Boots

Thick leather boots that stop just below the knee, they make her already tall frame even towering. She looks aloof and her boots are almost an extension of her body; like hooves. She walks with a bit of a swagger akin to that of a ballet dancer but she’s clumsy and trips over her own booted feet.

Crooked Septum Ring

Her septum ring is always slightly leaned to the left from using her right hand to swipe at her nose when it itches. There is not a day that goes by where she doesn’t hear “Your nose ring is crooked”. Sometimes she counts how often she hears it for the week; it never gets old.

Mary Jane

In the dark of the night when all are asleep, she reaches for her black kit and rolls what once grew from a seed. She abandoned modern day medicine for the power of herbs. Eyes half lidded and Serotonin levels on a cloud of translucent smoke. She lays her head on her plush pillow as her mind becomes light, and her body heavy.

Headphones

Without her headphones she’s subjected to hear the noises of the world and the hustle and bustle of passerbys. Without her headphones she’s approachable. So she remembers to pick them up before she leaves her home especially on hard days where socializing and loud noises makes her overstimulated and anxious.

Worn Down Converse

She once knew a girl who wore her black converses almost every day for five years,and she admired her. She thought of her as a angsty character in a coming of age movie…so she bought black converses too something about solidarity. She quickly got the appeal of wearing the same shoes almost everyday. She took interest in watching them be worn down just as the world had been doing to her. She told the girl after a year and a half had passed- “We are what our shoes are, worn down and tired as a result of being on this earth”.

Hoodies

No matter the weather her arms are covered. The sun is high in the sky and others around her are sweating in the sweltering heat but she barely breaks a sweat. She thinks others must find her crazy for wearing anything but a short sleeve in this type of heat. Her body temperature is different and her anxiety often makes her shiver from the phantom cold of impending doom only she feels awaiting around a corner.

3 A.M

Late nights into early mornings, shes always awake. She restlessly tosses and turns, its harder for her to sleep at nights instead of during the days. She reads a book in her barely lit dorm room in hopes it will tire her active mind. It is only when the birds start to chirp and light streams in through her curtains does drowsiness wraps around her like a soft blanket.

Mama’s Little Crybaby

She feels things a lot more deeply than others, at first glance she could be mistaken for being nonchalant… a stoic. Only a few get the chance to see how nurturing and empathetic she gets. Only ‘one’ knows how after every tiring day she dials the same number, as she sits on the edge of her bed, she imagines the older woman is with her. She cries.

Going Home

When life becomes too overwhelming, she gets on a bus and she returns home. If you were to ask her where is home or what is home like? She would neither tell you the name of her parish nor describe the structure of the house she lays her head in. She would tell you it’s wherever her mother goes.

[clarksstores]

Top 5 Best Shoes for the Working Woman

We’ve come a long way from the time when heeled court shoes were considered women’s only appropriate option for work. With sophisticated styles ranging from pumps to leather loafers, ladies are spoilt for choice when it comes to professional footwear. Anything from ballet flats to ankle boots can work well in an office environment, provided you style them appropriately. 

To make it easier to decide what style of shoe is best for you, we’ve put together this handy guide. Here we will run through the plus points (and some disadvantages) of the five best shoe styles for working women.

Kitten Heels- The New Courts

High heels impart an air of sophistication and authority while flattering the shape of your legs. No surprise they were the shoe of choice for working women for so long. After a busy day on your feet though, they can cause backache, pain, and blisters. 

Kitten-heeled courts give the same elegant effect, without putting all that strain on your body. Comfortable enough for the commute and smart enough for after-hours drinks meetings, they deliver practicality and comfort without compromising style.

The Versatility of Loafers

Made from soft leather or luxe felt, these slip-on flats have long been a popular choice for smart casual occasions. When considering how to wear loafers to work, ladies can ensure their outfit remains professional by selecting more tailored clothing options. 

Leather loafers in neutral browns and blacks give an air of seriousness without sacrificing on comfort. There’s a slight danger of loafers appearing old-fashioned if worn with long skirts or dresses, though. In order to avoid looking too relaxed, try pairing them with sleek, sharp-cut pencil trousers or cropped cigarette pants.

Brogues- Not Just for the Boys

A lace-up flat that looks refined while fitting your foot like a glove- little wonder brogues have long been men’s smart-casual shoe of choice. Happily, women can now get in on the action, with plenty of elegantly perforated styles available for us to try. 

Try contrasting the masculine aesthetic of brogues with an A-line skirt and tights’ femininity, for a casual workplace look. Or for days when you really mean business, play up their masculinity by styling them with an elegant suit.

Ankle Boots for All Weathers

No longer just for weekends with friends, the ankle boots has earned its place in the workwear wardrobe. Ideal in the colder seasons, a bootie gives warmth, coverage, and supports your ankles through long hours on your feet. 

It’s wise to steer clear of slouchy and relaxed styles to prevent your outfit from looking too dressed down. Instead, opt for sleek, structured silhouettes paired with midi-skirts or tailored trousers to keep professionalism levels high.

Beautiful Ballet Pumps

This most feminine of flat shoes has long been a staple in many women’s wardrobes, for good reasons. Dainty, light, and fitting easily into a handbag should you wish to switch to heels for the evening. They go with most outfits, from long dresses to tapered trousers, and rarely look out of place in any environment. 

Some pairs of ballet flats lack the structure to keep your foot secure and can trigger aches, pains, or blisters. Finding a pair with good arch support, some cushioning on the sole, and a slight heel is important. Once you’ve discovered the right pair, you might find you never want to take them off!

Long days, meetings, appointments, and commutes, our jobs demand a lot of our footwear, and of our feet. Wherever your workdays take you, though, these shoe choices are sure to get you there in comfort and impeccable style.

[passionpeirfashions]

How to Style Wide Leg Jeans for Women

It’s not hard to style wide leg jeans for women, but it does take a little bit of effort. And if you want to achieve the look that will make your customers love you—and your clothes—you need to be prepared for the challenge. Here are a few tips to get started:

What is the Best Way to Wear Jeans.

There are many ways to style Wide leg jeans for women in Delaware. One popular way is by wearing them a suit—that is, pairing them with a high-waisted shirt or blouse that displays your curves. Another way to wear wide legs jeans is by pairing them with ballet flats or wedges that make them look even wider. If you prefer not to wear heels while wearing wide legs jeans, there are plenty of shoes available that can be worn interchangeably with these pants.

How to Choose the Right Jeans Size.

When it comes to choosing the right size for wide leg jeans, it is important to consider how much fabric should be left at your waistband and how tight or loose the fit should be throughout the entire pair. The size you choose will affect how comfortable they feel and whether or not they reach your ankles correctly – making sure they fit snugly throughout most of their length will ensure an even distribution of weight across your hips and thighs).

How to Style Wide Leg Jeans for Women.

When choosing the right jeans fabric, it’s important to consider how the jeans will look on a woman. For example, if you want your jeans to be stylish and professional, choose a high-quality denim that will show off your curves. Jeans that are too tight or too loose may not look as good as they should on a woman with curvier hips and butt. If you want your jeans to be comfortable and stylish, try to choose a fabric that is stretchy but not too elastic. You can also try to find jeans that have a unique style, like wider leg or straight leg jeans.

Choose the Right Jeans style.

When choosing the right jeans style Wide leg jeans for women, you need to make sure the pants are true to your figure. For example, if you have curvier hips and butt, go for a straight-leg denim style that shows them off. If you’re looking for something more relaxed and comfortable, try out wide leg denim with some emphasizing cuts or stripes across the front panel of the pants. Make sure the overall design is classic and timeless without going overboard with trends.

Make sure the jeans are not too tight or too loose.

If you’re finding jeeps pants to be too tight or constricting on your waistline, it might be helpful to take them in one size when they first arrive in store so they can loosen up over time. Additionally, make sure not to wear them all day long – leave them at home if possible – and instead invest in Jeans that fit well throughout the day.

[suguwu]

...pantalone & ballet dancer reader

[tuliprry]

sunbeam

prompt: ballerina!yn x barista!harry, y/n is a ballerina and harry works at the café in the same building, both have a little crush on each other

warnings: fluff, mentions of ed, christmas

word count: 1.7k

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

the pointe shoes clicked and clacked around her, she was sitting down still wearing her leather split soles with ribbons. most of the girls in this class were more advanced than y/n, this was her fourth month in this ballet class for adults, truth be told the first time y/n walked into the ballet class she was looking for the yoga room, right next door, but the teacher was nice and convinced her to try at least just one class.

so here she is in a pink maillot, pink tights, beige wrap skirt and the beige coloured sole shoe with matching ribbons, her hair is up in a bun with her curtain bangs falling out, the brown warm-up shrug sat on top of her dance bag. outside, london was covered in rain, y/n could shiver just thinking about walking to the tube in this weather, she quickly smiled to herself thinking about getting a latte downstairs from the cute barista.

harry. harry is his name, he has messy curly brown hair, usually partly up with a black clip, he is tall, like way too tall compared to y/n that says she’s 153cm but she’s actually 3cm shorter than that, he is always singing while making orders, y/n thinks he sounds like an angel, she also thinks it’s the most cliché thought she’s ever had. 

he has the schedule of the classes on his phone, he likes to know when y/n is coming, his heart fluttered when she came in the other day to work, he peeked a little and asked her what she was doing, he learned that y/n was a photographer and her latest project was women from various ages and their portraits, from a 6 year old to a 81 year old. he was so intrigued, he wanted to be a writer, a poet even but would find himself without a single thought in his mind and a blank page in front of him. so he envied y/n for a hot minute, for being a photographer and a ballerina and for keeping his mind racing thinking of her… most of the time.

the class ended and y/n put her skirt and sole shoes in the dance bag, dressed a pair of white sweatpants, white sneakers and the brown warm-up shrug, holding a big brown coat on her arm, to be only worn once she left the building. the other ballerinas ran outside to smoke, y/n hasn’t been able to befriend none of them, mostly by lack of trying, she liked her own little cosy space and getting out of her shell wasn’t easy. also she doesn’t smoke. or has even tried. the feeling of being out of place is always there, the pointe shoes, the smoking and her maillot being a size extra large.

“if i have to make another special christmas baby jesus toasted white mocha i’m quite literally going to commit a crime so big” harry sighed to his co-worker, charlie, “y’might want to calm down harry, your ballerina is coming downstairs right now”, harry immediately turned around, trying to fluff his hair and accidentally hitting the black clip, “fucking christ”, he whimpered hoping she hadn’t seen his stupid moment. “hello harry” she smiled at him still gripping onto the dance bag. “y/n! i didn’t know you were coming today” liar. “d’ya want your usual? please don’t ask me for a santa inspired drink i’m so tired of those”, y/n just smiled at the man in front of her, he was usually expressive and that was something that got her hooked. “actually, can you make me an oat milk hot cocoa? it looks freezing out and i need a boost before i go on the tube” harry looked to the glass doors to make sure the weather was still shit and then mouthed a small okay. 

 “y/n i was wondering, would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? i mean, i want to ask you out and fuck i mean-“ harry’s words are slurring in front of her, she’s still drinking her hot cocoa in a heart shaped mug and so is harry, taking his 10 minute break to just make a fool out of himself in front of y/n. “when do you wanna go out?” she says placing the mug back on the table trying to look calm and collected. “are you free tonight?” 

harry had never seen y/n out of her ballet clothes, he had tried looking for her on instagram but it seemed impossible having only her first name and knowing she lives in london, he was so eager to see her coming out of the convent garden station, “not nervous shits, not now” he thought to himself, he was leaning on a lamp post, to y/n this was a scene out of a 00s brit rom-com, indulged them so much as a child she now craved a story like that for herself.

speeding up the stairs from the tube, she was wearing a silk pink dress with a square neck and long sleeves, flowing to her wrists, sheer tights and cognac platform mary janes, the same long brown coat from earlier today, on top a light brown shoulder bag, matching her shoes. harry was wearing dark brown pants with lighter brown stripes and a rosy beige shirt with the same light brown stripes, y/n could see him from inside the station, he was adjusting his almost to the feet long black coat and rubbing his hands to try and warm them up a bit.

then he saw her, loose hair with long curls that fell on her shoulders like pieces of a puzzle, walking up to him with a smile on her face, he took close attention to all details about her, the lipstick that matched the dress, her eyeliner that he would swear it has to have taken her forever to do and the pink leg warmers he knew so hell peeking out of her shoulder bag. “hey! can we please walk to the place? it’s freezing and i didn’t have where to sit on the tube to put my leg warmers on”, he was still mind fucked about her presence, she was like a sunbeam on the london dark rainy evening, “hello…. yeah, do you want my help? ..for the leg warmers? i can hold your stuff”, harry felt little, even thought he was 30 centimetres taller than the girl in front him. 

-

harry was on cloud nine learning about this girl, she was also a vegetarian, making his little heart do flutters at a shared love for animals, she has a cat named oli, she thought oli was a boy and named it oliver so y/n changed the name to oli, harry also has a cat, a little patched tabby cat named poppy. “what is speaking to you?” harry asks pointing at the menu, “ummm the fiori di zucca repieni di ricotta sounds too good to pass on, do you wanna share?” his mouth opened, speechless, “you speak italian?” he asked, “yeah i did erasmus in rome!” she said enthusiastically, “i trust you, let’s share then” 

the dinner was filled with laugher, lots of sharing their food and drinking really good wine, they even shared a pistachio gelato afterwards, even though it was freezing out and the news had mentioned a possible storm. “do you ever think.. of what you want to do outside of being a barista?” y/n asked, her hand was intertwined with harry’s as they walked outside convent garden market, “oh all the time, i really want to be a writer, a poet. my muse just has been asleep lately, every time i try to write it’s like my mind gets blank”  he’s honest, writing has been the last thing on his mind, working part time at the café as well as doing a little freelancer for some newspapers and magazines harry has little to no time to fully write, “it’s a curse being creative harry, i get it. i really do.” they’re walking past the royal opera house and y/n stops, lets go of harry's hand and just stares, as a child it was a dream to be part of the royal ballet and perform right there, instead she takes an adult class with other people that couldn’t attain that dream. she doesn’t resent herself or the dreams she used to have, she loves her life right now, it’s just that little tingly feeling of tiny y/n wanting this so badly.

“what are you thinking about y/n?” harry asked, placing the now lonely hand on her back, gently caressing it, "sorry, i just haven't walked past the royal opera in a bit", y/n turned to harry with an it's okay look on her face and grabbed his hand again, "dance for me", harry blurred out, he didn't really filter his thoughts at this point of the night, he wanted to see her dance so badly his heart was finally speaking over his brain, "right here? in the middle of the street?" y/n is a little perplexed but the idea grows inside of her.

they're now at harry's house, y/n opened spotify on her phone and pressed play on better version by sabrina claudio, this isn't what she usually dances to but she feels free with harry, taking her shoes off, standing barefoot in harry's cedar coloured carpet.

i made the perfect you in my head, cause physically you are the blue print

her hips moved to the rhythm and she found herself repeating what she had been rehearsing fot the last four months in class, harry was mesmerised, not that she was the greatest ballerina in the world but she was to him, he could not get his eyes off of her, following the movement attentively, almost like burning this moment on his brain so he would never forget, the core memory of actually falling in love with this girl

when the song ends, harry pulls y/n to his lap and just whispers sweet nothings in her ear, brushing his fingers through her arms and hair, just enjoying her late night company, he's a hopeless romantic and has been finding the right moment to kiss her and tell, tell everyone possible in the world that he has kissed such a pretty girl it has the pasta on his stomach doing flips. 

"can i kiss you?"

"fuck yes please"

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

Just Fishing

Anthony Mackie X Daughter!Reader

Summary: You didn't know you were making memories. You thought you were just drownin' worms and killin' time nothing too ambitious.

Warnings: Fluff, mediocre writing(happens everytime I start writing for someone new oof)

Song: Just Fishin' by Trace Adkins

A/n: It's been a hot minute since I've written a song fic. Also I haven't written for Anthony that much but I saw the interview where he talks about liking fishing and wanting to take Sebastian fishing so I felt this song is perfect.

I'm lost in her there holdin' that pink rod and reel

She's doin' almost everything but sittin' still

Talkin' 'bout her ballet shoes and training wheels

And her kittens

Your 5 years old, no siblings just yet but you couldn't find a care. You had all of your dad's attention, especially when the two of you went fishing.

"Daddy, can you teach me how to ride my bike without training wheels?" You asked sitting on a dock, in a fold-up chair in your favorite color, and holding a Cinderella fishing rod.

"Of course pumpkin." Anthony smiled at you. Anthony hoped you never grew up, stayed his little girl, that you'd never stop wanting to go fishing with him. He couldn't stop looking at you as you shuffled int our seat rambling about the new kitten you friend got, or how much fun you had in your ballet class yesterday. He hung onto every word knowing one day you'd grow up.

"Daddy! I think I got a bite!" You said pulling and reeling in the fishing rode. It snapped him from his thoughts as he helped you reel in the fish.

And she thinks we're just fishin'

"Good job pumkin" He smiled having you up the fish so he could take a photo to show your mom. Then he helped you release the fish back into the lake.

"Thank you daddy."

I say, "Daddy loves you, baby" one more time

She says, "I know, I think I've got a bite"

And all this laughin', cryin, smilin' dyin' here inside's

What I call, livin'

"Daddy loves you munchkin." He smiled at you. You looked up at him with a smile.

"I know!" You said happily as you leaned back in your chair. Your answer incited a chuckled from him.

"Oh you know that do you pumpkin?" He smiled at you.

"Yep! You've told me like a gazillion times!" You laughed. He smiled ruffling your hair making you glare at him. "Your messing up the pigtails mommy did for me!"

"I'm sorry will you forgive me." He asked you and cheeky smile on his face. You looked at him suspiciously for a second.

"Fine." He smile at you.

"Come here Fishy." He patted his lap. You sat on his lap and he smirked hugging you tight and messing with your hair again.

"Daddy!" You whined slapping his hands away pouting. He smiled apologizing again before handing you your fishing rod again so the two of you could keep fishing.

"I love you pumpkin."

"You just said that daddy." You giggled.

And she thinks we're just fishin' on the riverside

Throwin' back what we could fry

Drownin' worms and killin' time

Nothin' too ambitious

"Get your stuff we're going fishing." Your dad said to you from where you were sitting in your room playing with toys. You perked up immediately, you quickly ran to you closet to get a pair of worn out tennis shoes that it wouldn't matter if they got muddy.

"Ready!" You said you had the biggest smile on your face and were holding your fishing rod. He smiled at you taking the fishing rod and tossing it in the trunk of his car. He helped you into your car seat before.

"Bye babe!" He waves to your mom who was standing outside the house, she's five months pregnant so Anthony is trying to spend as much time with you before the baby is born. He knows it'll be hard on you when the baby is born since you're currently an only child

"Bye, mommy!" You waved to her. She smiled waving back. Soon you were at your favorite fishing spot. He set up the chairs and put the bait on your fishing rod.

"How's school been lately?" He asked you. You were 6 years old so you were in first grade.

"It's great! Next week is show and tell! I want to bring my teddy bear." You told him keeping your eyes on the lake.

"That's cool." He smiled.

"Yeah. My teacher Mrs. Kenneth is really nice! She gives us candy!" You said excitedly. "We have a class pet named Chip! He's a hamster but he's never awake during class."

"I think hamsters are nocturnal."

"Nocter- what?" You looked at him confused.

"It means they sleep during the day and are awake at night." He explained.

"Like bats! Cool!" You said happily.

"Yeah like bats." He chuckled patting you shoulder.

She ain't even thinkin' 'bout

What's really goin' on right now

But I guarantee this memory's a big'in

And she thinks we're just fishin'

"Hey pumpkin! Do you mind if Sebastian comes fishing with us today?" Anthony asked walking into your room. You were digging through you closet trying to find your fishing rod.

"I don't care." You said not looking up. You couldn't believe you lost a fishing rod that's the same height as your 5-year-old brother. Your six years old than him, so eleven.

"Your fishing rod is already in the car kiddo." He assured you. You looked at him and glared.

"And you didn't tell me! Meanie." You pouted grabbing sunglasses and walking past him to where Sebastian was waiting in your living room. "Seb dad is meanie! He didn't tell me he put my fishing rod in his car! I thought I lost it." You told your dad's best friend as you pouted.

"Anthony! Why didn't you tell her?" Sebastian feigned offense making you laugh.

"Woah now your teaming up against me?!" Anthony frowned.

"Yep." You smiled. Anthony laughed ruffling your hair.

"Dad." You scolded fixing you hair.

"Come on let's go fishy." Anthony smiled as you blushed from the nickname.

"Daad." You drew out the word.

"Well are we ready now?" Sebastian asked.

"Yeah!" You said happily.

She's already pretty, like her mama is

Gonna drive the boys all crazy

Give her daddy fits

And I better do this every chance I get

'Cause time is tickin'

(Yeah it is)

He sat outside your school. He's been away filming for a little while so you have seen him in quite some time, other then on video calls. You didn't know he came home today he was surprising you. You were talking to who he assumed to be a friend. Until the other kid leaned forward moving your hair out of you face. He saw you giggle and blush. He sighed now realizing just how much you've grown. Having crushes and not even noticing he's waiting for you.

"Y/n!" He shouted you turned your face lighting up seeing him. You ran over hugging him, your friend making their way over. "Hey pumpkin how was school?" Anthony asked you.

"It was great! This is my friend Cameron!" You told your dad smiling.

"Nice to meet you!" Cameron said smiling.

"Nice to meet you too kid."

"I thought you were filming?" You asked smiling.

"Finished early so I came straight home to take you fishing!"

"Cool! Can Cameron come?" You asked not noticing how his gaze faltered. You used to hate people coming with on your fishing trips, your brothers, mom, Sebastian, and Chris being the exceptions.

"It's fine with me, we just have to ask their parents." Anthony decided. You and your friend squealed happily before running over to who he had to assume to be Cameron's grandma.

"Gram can I go fishing with Y/n and her dad?"

"Pretty please!" You added.

"As long as it's alright with her dad." She smiled.

"It's fine with me." Anthony agreed.

"Well, I don't see why not then! Let's trade numbers, cause I only have your wife's number right now" the grandma said smiling.

And she thinks we're just fishin' on the riverside

Throwin' back what we could fry

Drownin' worms and killin' time

Nothin' too ambitious

You sighed looking at the framed photo on the wall of your dad's home. It was of you and him the biggest smiles on your faces as you help up your very first fish. You were probably 4 in it, it's been about 13 years since then, so your almost 17. You haven't gone fishing in a while but then again it was only March so it was a bit cold to fish any way.

Anthony left last week to film a movie but you left your favorite hoodie, and your brother left a book he needed for school at his house the week before. Luckily you had a key so you stopped by. The walls were covered in photos of you and your brothers, a few of him with friends or his parents. You smiled looking at a photo of you and your brothers by the river bed, your youngest brother had insisted on using your old fishing rod despite your dad buying him a brand new one just the day before. Your oldest brother was in the background of the photo about to fall of his chair because of a fish.

You went up the stair peeling your eyes from the wall. You made it to your room grabbing your hoodie from the chair before hurrying to your brother's room. Grabbing the book before you ran down the stairs straight to the kitchen. You peaked in the fridge grabbing soda then you went to the cabinet to grabbed some cookies. Your phone rang and you looked ddown seeing it was your dad. You forgot he had cameras set up, so he was probably watching you.now the cameras are only in the main living areas, living room, kitchen, dining room, hallway. The usual places.

"Hey dad." You said happily.

"I saw you were stealing my oreos." Anthony said with amusement clear in his tone.

"Is that why you have cameras to make sure no one steals your oreos?" You asked laughing.

"That and to make sure you don't try throwing any parties." He teased causing you to roll your eyes .

"Mhm. I miss you." You said closing the cupboard and making your way to your car.

"I miss you too munchkin but I'll be home in just a couple of months!" He assured. You mumbled incoherently. "Fishy don't cry." He teased.

"I'm not gonna cry." You laughed starting your car.

"Liar. Did you remember to lock the door?"

"Yeees." You said hurrying out of your car and to the door locking it.

"I saw that."

"Creep." You scoffed getting back into the car.

"Okay I got to get back to filming Kiddo, tell your brothers I said hi." He said.

"Bye dad I love you."

"Love you too, drive safely."

But I guarantee this memory's a big'in

She ain't even thinkin' 'bout

What's really goin' on right now

And she thinks we're just fishin

Ah college the time for growing up and being away from your parents. You've been there a month and you were homesick. Nothing you loved was here, no fishing, no little brothers who you used to claim you hated, no dad to cheer you up when you were sad, no mom with great advice.

Sure you were sharing a dorm with your best friend, and you called your family every night but you were counting down the days until Thanksgiving. Your phone began ringing, you looked at the textbook you had been studying then at your phone. Your dad's smiling face was on the screen. You yawned answering it.

"Hey munchkin!"

"Hey dad I'm studying but I guess I'll take a break for you." You said dramatically.

"Just for me! Oh thank you." He joked.

"Whatever. How are you dad?"

"I'm doing great! How are you pumpkin?"

"I'm okay. I really miss you guys though." You mumbled in the phone resting your head on the desk.

"Good news for you I'm filming a movie close by!" He said happily.

"Really? Your not just messing with me?"

"Nope I'll be there in a couple weeks!"

"That's amazing!" That day, even after you got off the phone with your dad, your smile couldn't be broken. True to his word he was in the next city over in two weeks. It definitely made you less homesick.

She ain't even thinkin' 'bout

What's really goin' on right now

But I guarantee this memory's a big'in

And she thinks we're just fishin'

Yeah, aw, she thinks we're just fishin'

We ain't only fishin'

(This ain't about fishin')

Anthony Mackie Taglist: @high-on-darren-criss

If you don't want to be tagged in song fics please let me know! (This goes for all of my taglists except the ones for a series)

[4dtk]

pas de deux — gojo satoru

pas de deux [pa•de•de] (french, literally “step of two”), a dance duet. 

summary: striving to become a principal dancer, you’re unaware of the curious blue eyes from across the studio, only knowing of his reputation from rumours. when you have to shadow your seniors to learn a principal role and meet the infamous gojo satoru, what happens then?

word count: 11k lmfao

genre: a bit of angst, mostly fluff

a/n: gojo brainrot done. sorry this took so long lol i’m not used to writing long fics but i’m glad i did bc this is acts also as a place for me to dump my passion of ballet aha :”)

playlist here! most of them are classical pieces and a bit of ballet class music, i hope you don’t mind uwu. personally, i’d recommend watching (before or after the fic doesn’t matter hahah) the crazy talented marianela nuñez and vadim muntagirov in the pas de deux that i reference a lot in this fic. they’re my absolute favourite! (´･ᴗ･ ` )

tags: @fiona782​

it was unconventional to see a ballerino don white hair during rehearsals, let alone in a company; the familiar head of white whizzes through the studio like an angel of the night, with graceful moves and powerful jumps to match those of a faerie's seamless manoeuvers through her flowers.

that was only expected out of a principal anyway.

gojo satoru, a principal dancer of the six eyes theatre. they were part of the three prominent companies that carried the ballet world and industry. behind all the glimmer and glitz lay hours of endless rehearsals and worn-out pointe shoes, as well as smiles behind kitri's fans or even the emotional miming from giselle.

he was untouchable, a leading face that carried the ballets he starred in with immense skill and an aura admired by everyone. anyone lucky to score a pas de deux with him would be torn between a world of conflict. those soft eyes that looked down at you with love were solely meant to portray siegfried's ardour for odette and nothing else.

you sigh, eyeing the confident man giving his all in the company class, no doubt hyping himself up for tonight's last show. you couldn't fall behind, either, knowing your performance was monitored way more now that you were considered amongst the directors to be promoted to principal.

"next group, pay attention, loves!" the teacher for the morning caught your attention, letting the chattering group in front head out first before the next group of dancers took their turn. 

dancing was all you could remember, taking up most of your life even when you were a kid. through competitions and gruelling schedules, you managed to land in the six eyes theatre. sure, it wasn't as popular as the zen'in company or the kamo national ballet but, it still held up a wicked reputation, partially thanks to gojo satoru. 

your feet naturally hail your command, placing it behind the other in a curtsey to thank the instructor for the morning class as you stretch your feet in some simple pointe repertoire. 

"nervous about your posting, (y/n)?" nobara asks, rolling the arch of her feet back and forth with a tennis ball.

you shrugged, "in a way, yeah. i'm getting observed on mainly every move that i make."

the smile your best friend gives you calms you down, at least. megumi chipped in, "hey, you'll become one of the best principals around, i know it."

"yeah! and we'll go to your shows, no matter wha... oh, right, we're first soloists," itadori trails off. 

you laugh, settling down to wipe the sweat from your brow. however, there's an uncharacteristic silence when you start to remove your pointe shoes.

"what if i do become principal? i'll miss you guys like hell." you mutter, rubbing off the skin peeling from your toes. removing the tape and toepads, you sigh again even after nobara lands a hand on your arm.

"stop sighing, you idiot, the company's small. sure, you'll have extended rehearsals, and i will now have to deal with yuji's noisy ass, but i doubt we're going to be separated like oil and water." 

you roll your eyes, chuckling a little through glossy eyes, "true. it's just that we've always been together, through the competitions where we met and going up the ranks. hell, i wouldn't even imagine all of us becoming first soloists when we entered six eyes."

megumi raises an eyebrow, "are you underestimating us?" 

putting your fingers together, you offer a sheepish smile, "just a little."

"and now you're going to become a principal, (y/n). we all know you put yourself to crazy standards that you always reach, maybe even higher than that. you're going to kill it as a principal, i'm sure."

thankful to nobara for the little speech, you pat her arm gently, easing into a stretch to prevent any tensing up later in an afternoon class. 

"(y/n), they're coming over, look sharp," itadori notifies you, turning to the barre to do his own stretching as your friends busy themselves with their phones.

you take another curtsey at your instructor, along with the director of six eyes, masamichi yaga.

why... was he here now?

"(y/n), love, we'll need to talk to you about something. would you mind coming to the office later on? just before the company's afternoon class at 2 would be good."

you were at a loss for words.

was i already raised to principal? no... they wouldn't promote someone who's only danced her first soloist role a couple of times. were they going to remove me for consideration? maybe they found a better dancer to monitor?

"it's nothing terrible, (y/n), i promise." with a smile, masamichi walks away, not before patting your shoulder for reassurance.

the next few hours go by in a flash: eating lunch, lazing around in the studio, filming some tiktoks and then getting ready for another class took up most of your time that you didn't get to ponder over the office visit.

so you were definitely surprised to see gojo satoru himself, a shit-eating grin on his face once he hears you enter. he lays back on both arms to welcome the first soloist, you. 

you curtseyed again to ms ieiri and masamichi. before you got to gojo, however, he held a hand up before standing up himself to bow. you let out a small smile as the familiar step led you to curtsey on the other foot.

it left a weird feeling in your bones to greet a principal dancer, but you two weren't all that close, anyway. plus, curtseying was basic courtesy in the company, where actions spoke louder than a "good morning" or a "thank you".

"nice to see you, (y/n). miss nitta, as you know," masamichi gestured to your teacher and then to the white-haired man, whose beauty never fails to amaze you, as cliche as it sounds, "and gojo satoru." 

"nice to finally talk to you, miss (y/n)," he nods his head, wearing an attractive smile that had you sucking in a breath. you could only manage a smile at the moment, brought back to reality when masamichi's firm voice resonates in the office.

"you've done a tremendous job these past few months, love. we've been watching your roles this season, hopping from one position to the other with no problem at all. i'm sure you were informed that you were being considered to be principal..." you leaned forward in anticipation, "...although you'd have to let your skill shine through more before we promote you to principal any time soon."

bummer, but it's nothing you can't handle.

"we do have something to ask of you, however. your potential is clearly set in the right place, and your talent and determination are not lost. we want you to shadow and learn the repertoire of shoko ieiri and gojo satoru while they rehearse for the next season's premiere."

nevermind, it might actually be something you can't handle.

"me?"

masamichi only lets out a knowing smile. "are you up for the challenge, (y/n)? you'll get to learn and watch how principals rehearse, act and mime out the story in the hands of ballet masters and mistresses like kiyotaka ijichi and mei mei and even tengen hoshi." 

your fingers dug into your thigh at the well-known names, always seeing them in the corridors but never knew how they taught or conducted rehearsals. this was your chance.

"of course, director masamichi. i'd be honoured to observe and shadow the company's principal dancers, let alone miss shoko ieiri and mr gojo satoru here. their chemistry onstage is honestly unmatched!"

okay, shut up, (y/n). you're laying your fangirling thoughts on the actual director of six eyes theatre. a simple yes would've sufficed.

"great! you start tomorrow. skip the afternoon class and come straight to the studio on the ground floor. we'll be expecting you."

you couldn't help the grin that appears on your face this time, passing a bow to everyone in the room before curtseying and almost exclaiming a "thank you!"

once you're out of the professional eye, you have a little celebratory dance outside the office, immediately fishing out your phone to text the trio. 

"a...ah! gojo senpai!" you take a step back in instinct, the tall principal looming over you with nothing but an intimidating air around him.

however, nothing screams intimidating on his face, as he shoots you a polite smile and a hand to get introductions out of the way.

all you can think about is his large hand enveloping yours while he tells you his name. you're stuck in a trance, locked on his eyes cut off by the black of his sunglasses. 

how would those hands feel on my hips when he's lifting me? or maybe we'd engage in a kiss in romeo and juliet...? are we doing r&j for the next season's shows?

fuck.

"uh- yes, nice to meet you too, senpai! i-"

"call me gojo, (y/n)."

you're at a loss for words, the man knowing he's left you speechless with the way he's smirking off into the other direction. you manage to get the prodigy out of your head, willing yourself to get to the company class as soon as possible. since your distraction was gone and the air cleared of any tension, you were able to hear the voices in the office.

"are you sure about this, nitta? we can't have any more dancers off their game just because they were enamoured with satoru to the point of confessing their love to him. every time we get first soloists and principals to pair with him, something always comes up."

"i'm sure, director. (y/n)'s mettle and focus on her roles are strong, and her skills are off the charts. if anything happens, we'll just pair her with another principal, like kento or something." masamichi sounded unconvinced, grunting as their footsteps increased in volume.

company class! company class!

you slipped into the studio just in time to avoid nitta and masamichi, carrying your things as you looked for the trio.

"(y/n)!" yuji catches your attention, although a little too loudly for your liking. you were left to greet the other dancers on the way to their corner, dumping your bag with much more exasperation than you expected.

"what's wrong?" megumi asks, doing some plies at the bar to warm up his feet and muscles.

"i think i should text y'all instead. let's wait for after the show tonight."

you get three nods from the trio in reply, dropping into some simple stretches as the next instructor takes over. at least gojo wasn't here...

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

the applause was deafening as you take your bow, thanking the audiences from the balcony and stalls as you gestured to your pas de deux partner, megumi. putting your hand in front of your heart was a big thing to do, giving thanks to one of your best friends and partners for a fun pair such as bluebird and princess florine. 

as you walked back to join the other dancers, the principal roles were taking their bows with no doubt roars and cheers from the audience from yet another electrifying performance from the golden pair as princess aurora and prince florimund: gojo and ieiri. 

as ieiri led the conductor on stage, he was the last to thank the audience, bringing the heart of the ballet to life with the score of tchaikovsky's sleeping beauty. 

with one last bow, the curtain closes, leaving you to let loose from the rigid position you were used to. 

"we're done!" you laugh, hugging megumi as nobara and itadori squeeze their way through the many dancers on stage. the two convey their compliments, prompting you to nudge the two on their puss-in-boots and white cat roles. the two then freeze up, staring at something that was approaching from behind.

"miss (y/n)-" gojo bows, interrupted by ieiri as she crashes into you with a hug.

"oh man, (y/n) you were great out there!" you grin, embracing her as tight as she did. 

"thank you, senpai," you were practically beaming, thankful she still remembered you after being promoted to principal years ago. it was hard to communicate and talk when she had so much going on, a natural dancer who rose up the ranks fast with her hard work. 

ieiri formed herself up into a refined dancer that you wouldn't think she was the young girl at your studio trying on pointe shoes for the first time years ago when you were a kid.

that was if you didn't know her personally, of course. 

"here, first position, just like that!" the curious girl interacted with the kids outside a smaller studio, teaching them the various positions that at least a grade two or three class would use.

she picked up pointe work fast, obviously guided by the mentors at the school with nights of rehearsal and decision making whether she wanted to pursue this professionally.

"oh shush, you, you don't have to call me senpai, see you tomorrow (y/n)!"

ieiri bids you goodbye, no doubt to talk to the choreographers and director. gojo follow suit shortly after your exchange, not before taking your hand to plant a kiss on it.

you retract almost immediately after his lips descend on your skin, the area hot from the lighting, your sweat and your feelings.

nobara tsked, "what's his deal?" you let out a shaky sigh and shrug, hooking an arm around megumi's as you went around to mingle with the dancers.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

[nobara is typing...]

you're to shadow gojo-senpai and shoko-senpai?! no way???!?!1/!?!?

[itadori is typing...]

no way, that's so cool! 

what was he like? was he in the office that day?

[(y/n) is typing...]

yeah, he was. not gonna lie, a bit cocky... kinda overheard that partners throw themselves at him sometimes too, which makes it a bit troublesome, lol.

and yes, kugisaki i'll need to observe them starting tomorrow. i cant come for the company class :(

[megumi is typing...]

Then what about Shoko-senpai?

you shake your head even though no one could see you, the forgotten tv series playing in the background while you text your friends instead.

[(y/n) is typing...]

she's too good for him, i think. they're long time friends too, but i'm not sure if any feelings blossomed since then tho

[nobara is typing...]

you don't like him, do you? i know you dont like guys that are full of themselves, altho that man rlly is that attractive .......

[itadori is typing...]

LMAOO whos the smitten one now

nobara sends a vibe check sticker, the one with both hands outstretched with a threatening stare into the screen. 

[nobara is typing...]

i'll kill you tomorrow, yuji itadori.

[itadori is typing...]

you'd have to reach my height first, loser

[nobara is typing...]

you- UFGGHKHH

i'll kick your shins, thats what!!!!!! 

you roll your eyes as the two of them get into another friendly banter, leaving the group chat to blow up in messages as you switch off the neglected tv. 

there's a silence that feels almost too foreign, contrasting to the fact that you enjoyed silences daily. it felt criminal, almost, to be in such a quiet space with no one to fill in the gaps.

you look to your black and white poster for some clarity, the young boy standing at 16 with a softness in his eyes and a lengthened extension that conveyed his love of ballet to you.

you never knew who was the boy, getting a poster shoved into your hands in a hurry when you and your mom bought tickets to the local ballet competition. you never questioned the poster, nor had you caught the boy in the midst of his variation either, settling for a theory that his performance had already passed the day before.

"how do you think it's going to go down tomorrow?" you mumble to no one in particular, tossing and turning in your sheets that didn't quell your worries no matter how much you thrashed.

the dreamless slumber welcomes you into its arms almost immediately, although the morning after was the opposite.

"shit, shit, shit," was your mantra, jumping from place to place in your small apartment to get the things you needed for class. you manage to catch the bus in time, heading straight to the studio with no cup of tea in your hand as usual. 

"(y/n)!" nobara grins, seeing you stumble through the door just as everyone finishes their individual warmups. the instructor greets everyone, eager to get into the class as soon as possible.

the thought of the rehearsal shook you up more than you thought it would, leaving you to let out nervous breaths that got worse by the time that class ended. 

ieiri didn't miss the way you'd wipe your hands on your tights in worry, going over the steps more than you usually would. you had a killer memory, but it seemed that today that that ability had melted away at the sight of gojo.

"wish me luck, guys," you muttered, hurriedly packing up your things before heading off yourself. the trio only could give you a small smile, knowing you had wanted time to yourself to calm your nerves.

you had always done this for the many shows you starred in: the music and positions mimicking a recording. it was as clear as day when it replayed in your head, the different orchestral parts and the dynamic changes you apply to your steps to give the best performance, for performing your best was all that mattered. the trio understood instantly, always sending you off on your memory replay with an encouraging smile.

well, almost, for you didn't even know what the rehearsal entailed or what piece they would be dancing to.

"hi," your voice appeared meek in the big studio, the only three people there slowly getting warmed up to each other. your feet carried you into a curtsey.

"ah, mei mei-sensei! miss shoko and mr gojo," you acknowledged their presence, placing your things down right where you stood.

"let's begin then, shall we? for this is a gala event, the pas de deux couple will only be performing the entree and the adagio parts. there might be the possibility you two would have to rehearse your individual variations and the coda. still, the organisers haven't gotten back to us on the duration we'll be on stage for. with the switching in and out of the different repertoire, this year should align with don quixote. before we start, i wish that everyone is honest with each other; that way, we can learn from different views."

don quixote?! you hold in your excitement at the revelation, thinking back to the fiery portrayals of kitri and lively spanish music to pair with it. your excitement was on cloud nine while by fifteen minutes, your feet and body were seemingly screaming at you to take a break.

to say it was tiring was an understatement, at the very least. you were to only shadow ieiri's parts, and the absence of a male partner proved challenging when you were the first soloist mirroring a principal and her partner.

"(y/n) should try too, of course! come, come," mei mei beckons you over from where you went over the steps, fingers fidgeting with the waistband of the sheer skirt you'd just bought a few days ago.

"i trust that you are familiar with the wedding PDD, (y/n)?" mei mei asks.

you nod eagerly, not missing the way ieiri beams at your enthusiasm. 

"good. we'll just try this part on your own. remember to keep yourself lifted and trust your partner," mei mei eyes you while gojo was already getting comfortable with a hand on your back, "would you like to try it without the music first?"

you nod cautiously. you take note of the way it burns like fire, the contact of his skin on yours. oh god, you wished you had wiped the sweat from it, although the other didn't seem to mind it due to the many partners he's worked with before.

with a quick glance, you snuck a look at the tall dancer, never much prepared for the striking blue of his eyes. however, this time, the cheeky gojo appeared to be kept under wraps, bringing forth a more solemn and nervous exterior. he did seem different and quiet, even catching the attention of mei mei-sensei and ieiri herself. they opted not to say anything.

nevertheless, the two of you narrate the lifts and steps, mixing in the counts with the french vocabulary that stuck with you throughout the years. you were surprised at how much leeway gojo had provided you, allowing you to move freely while bringing you back effortlessly for the couple work.

a smile formed on your face at the flow of your steps as the music plays seamlessly in your mind with how much you've watched different renditions of the wedding pas de deux.

"with the music now, my dears."

ieiri shoots you a thumbs-up, noticeably more tired than you, as she massages the bottom of her feet with calculated force.

the piano starts as the pas de deux passes by smoothly with minimal mishaps, save for some off balances here and there. as always, your hand tingles when it comes in contact with the principal's, willing the quick heartbeats away by thinking of his cocky smirk the other day. with the easy beginning completed, the lifts were now appearing more often.

"hold your body up during the fish dive (y/n), hold your back and position!" gojo stumbles a bit at your mistake, but for the second time around, you manage to get it, coming up from the tricky step into a beautiful arabesque. 

a hasty nod, and you're off, pulling away from gojo a tad bit quicker than how you wanted to initiate it. he's taken by surprise at your change of personality, wondering where the flustered soloist had gone to previously. with the same corrections directed at you, mei mei gives you a "good job" before bringing ieiri back in.

"we'll cap you two's pas de deux at that point before the turns. ieiri, you ready to get back into it?" she hesitantly nods, albeit more relaxed than the earlier exchange.

the music starts again, and this time, you manage to gape at the couple's artistry, weaving over and under to fit the delicate notes of minkus' score. with the many turns and tour en l'airs, it now came to the difficult part of the pas de deux: where the woman will wind their hand around the man's single finger, engaging in two turns connected only by that single contact point.

they complete it easily, leaving ieiri to then balance en pointe with one leg suspended in the air. the two repeat it again with no problem, except for the fatigue seeping through their faces at a few moments in time.

as the music reaches its climax, so does the movements with increasing pirouettes and lifts. their chests heave with exhaustion, but their smiles showed that they were satisfied with the run.

it was hard to believe that gojo and ieiri only started to rehearsed this a few weeks ago, especially since these were leading roles with a reasonably complex pas de deux to pair with. nothing seemed to faze them as they received the feedback from mei mei, nor did they have trouble correcting the lift that had gone wrong earlier or the balance that ieiri fell out of.

so this was what it meant to be a principal.

"(y/n)! any feedback that you'd like to give to the two?"

"h..huh, me? i'm not sure if it'd be helpful to-"

"nonsense, hit us, (y/n). rehearsals are always a place for feedback," ieiri grins, taking your hand to bring you closer to the three of them.

"well, i think... i'll comment on the repeated melody where you'll go from the turns into the attitude balance is where it's a bit difficult. since gojo-senpai is tall, he might've put his hand a little too high. i mean, of course, lifting up is ideal, but ieiri-senpai might have some trouble balancing because of that."

they wordlessly try it out without the music, noting how gojo places his hand at a lower height for ieiri. it might've felt foreign, but it looked a tad bit better to you, with a better centre of gravity and stability. 

"yeah! like that!" a smile dons your face, "does it feel better, senpai?"

"tons," gojo simply states, almost too eagerly as blue eyes uncharacteristically boring into yours. opposed to the quick glances he always gave you along the corridor or within classes, this one was a strange, longing one. ieiri's voice snaps you out of the spell, almost not wanting to leave his stare.

"way better, thank you (y/n)," she pats your arm before turning to the sound of mei mei's voice.

"alright, beautiful legs and extensions, but we still have a lot to work on, as well as getting (y/n) accustomed to more pas de deux and principal work. would you like to stay on (y/n)?"

you admired your own determination, but sometimes it was better to take a break. having just attempted the coda, you could already feel blisters forming due to your prolonged use of pointe shoes. with a breath, you let gojo complete his pirouettes, restraining the sigh coming from your lips at the perfect revolutions and momentum he had going.

a little more, and you were close to catching a breath, finishing off a quadruple pirouette and tour en l'air with gojo's help. with a slight stumble, you let out a startled laugh before taking your last step with a knee to the floor. with palm outstretched, the piano does a trill before ending off on a chord.

out of the corner of your eye, you spot gojo smiling down at you, a beam that doesn't come often with how much confidence he carries around the company. 

ieiri applauds first, followed by mei mei's impressed smile.

"you execute your fouettes well, (y/n)," you bow your head in thanks, brought up unconsciously with gojo's hand as it stays linked in yours. 

"thank you, mei mei-sensei. i'm just glad to have tried it out; the don Q coda is one of my favourites," you gush, "the costumes, the music is just everything."

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"to dance with your partner is one thing, but the connection is another. translate the story of the elation of kitri - her father finally gives his blessing for their wedding, and she's excited to the moon. basilio is marrying the girl of his dreams. know what and who you're dancing for." mei mei speaks over the music easily, giving pointers they go over the steps like always.

"i know it's just an empty stage. there's no set, no scene to show the joy all around the cast, but you still are dancing as kitri and basilio," mei mei says after, "let's try again with (y/n)."

rehearsals carried on like this, day after day. some days longer than the other, and on others, you were paired with another first soloist. however, he wasn't tasked with shadowing the couple every day, so the pas de deux was left to you to master. 

as you wipe your sweat, ieiri waves her towel in front of you, "wanna have lunch with us?"

"i don't want to intrude-" 

"it's gojo's treat," ieiri whispers, "plus he doesn't treat people often."

"is he okay with me coming alo-" she pulls on you, leaving you no choice but to pack your things hurriedly.

"(y/n)'s coming, yea?" ieiri mumbles quickly, hooking her arm around yours in a hassle as you try to keep your things from falling out of your bag.

"i'd like that." gojo says to no one, finally catching up to you two after switching off the studio lights.

"whaaaat, you're leaving so fast?" you pout, eyeing ieiri's neat tray of finished food as gojo lets her pass through in the booth.

"i'm sorry you have to stay here with this dumbass (y/n), but i have a date with the orthopaedic today," ieiri groans.

"like an actual date?" gojo jokes.

"no," she rolls her eyes, "my muscles are acting up a little lately. plus, my arch hurts more often than it usually does. it's best to just check it out, i guess. but yeah, an actual date would be nice, too."

you shrug, "eh, hard to come by when you're a busy ballet dancer in a company. bye, senpai!" you and gojo wave to her as she leaves the diner, now coming to terms with the fact that you were alone with the charming dancer, as much as you hated to admit it.

with his perfect hair and long eyelashes and the enchanting smirk he always seems to wear. not to mention the sheer strength in his leaps in contrast to the delicate grip on your waist-

"thinking about me, love? of course you are."

"what? no!" you stiffen, the blush on your cheeks immediately giving away your thoughts.

"for the record, i've thought of you, too," gojo drops a bomb, leaning over the table to plant a gentle kiss upon your cheek before leaving the booth in a hurry. 

you were thankful that he was gone, at least and thankful for the empty diner, leaving you to melt in a puddle of confusion and warmth. 

just like the first rehearsal, your cheeks feel hot, as does your body. the place where his lips touched seemed to burn a hole through, your gaping mouth failing to close even after a minute of staring into nothing.

fishing out your phone was the first thing your mind sought out from the endless thoughts in your head.

nobara, nobara, nobara... gotta find her contact..!

[nobara is typing...]

he WHAT???!??@

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"ieiri-senpai, what's a pas de deux to you?" you mumble after rehearsals one day, picking at the tape stuck in between your toes.

"it would have to be what mei mei said, definitely. she still says the same exact thing till today: dance and connection are two different things. and it can't go to the point where two different stories are being told by the male and female dancer. you'll need to go into pas de deux work with a mindset that you come in a pair. every correction and every emotion needs to be felt by both parties for it to reach the audiences."  

"what about you?" the question catches you by surprise, resorting to humming as you think of the answer.

"it's something along the lines of your answer and mei mei-sensei's definition. you'd have to be on the same wavelength as your partner. every extension that appears or a gentle port de bras is meant to show the character's personality. you'd also have to think of the context of the ballet, i guess," you stop yourself, looking at gojo as he finishes a tour en l'air en passe. three revolutions and you realise that a. you're staring and b. you were talking way too much.

"sorry! i'm rambling again," you splutter, going back to your original task of taking out the tape from your toes.

ieiri giggles, "no, no! ramble all you want. i love listening to my juniors talk about how much they love ballet."

"sleeping beauty, just like the show a week ago, is set in the royal court, so it's hard to show aurora's personality. she's a little playful and young, although it's hard to slip that in when the wedding pas de deux for that is so grand. and then you'll compare it to the black swan in swan lake, where it's also in a royal court, but odile's the one deceiving siegfried, so there's an opportunity to include some side-eyeing in it. i personally love zenaida's version," you trailed off, "i mean, of course, there's also-"

"then what about odette?" gojo shouts across the studio, with his hands on his hips. the white of his hair matched the pureness of odette's tutu, something you always wished to wear and dance and master when you got accepted into six eyes theatre.

"don't mind him-"

your words take precedence without effort, "with the white swan, odette has to show the struggle of her spell with the frantic miming that she has to do. 'i'm the queen of the swans, rothbart the bastard turned me into a swan' and so on and so forth. because she's a swan, she has to imitate the gentle way that swans move, along with the technical challenges of the pas de deux. she's very soft and fragile, and the violin makes it all the better in showing the shyness and fear in odette."

two pairs of eyes stare at you curiously as the male's smirk leaves you to break into a nervous laugh as you fidget with your fingers. 

"sorry, i'm talking a lot. too much. do carry on with your jumps," a small apologetic smile appears on your face, failing to note gojo's hesitation to move from his spot and his interest in the way you can talk endlessly about the art.

gojo's smirk merges into a smile even when he accomplishes the many pirouettes demanded of him. he'd want to hear it from your lips next time when you're wrapped up in each other.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"don't you think he's a little bit too confident for his own good?" nobara whispers to you. with rehearsals off for a few days, you were able to see your best friends again, munching up the calories lost from the afternoon class. 

"yeah... for all we know, he might be stumbling around in rehearsals and picking up girls," megumi muttered.

you rolled your eyes, "he's... not like that, guys. he is confident in class and seems a bit cocky, but that's because he really does live up to his name."

"we might not know much, either. (y/n) has been in rehearsals with the guy. he's probably more focused when there are lesser people in the room," yuji chats through his food, gaining disgusted looks from the three of you when lettuce and chicken litter the table.

"well... don't go falling for the guy, yeah? i've beaten up too many exes in the past," megumi tsked, devouring the salad bowl in front of him.

"yeah, but i didn't ask you to, plus you'd do it anyway. didn't even have to ask," you grin, leaning back in your chair triumphantly.

"if i beat up gojo-senpai, i'll probably get jailed."

you and yuji stifle a laugh at his comment, but nobara doesn't seem impressed with the joke, instead focused more on you and your reactions. 

you weren't actually developing feelings... right?

the memory and kiss linger in your mind like a stubborn stain, not forgetting the intense stare nobara had given you before you said goodbye to the three. a vibration from your phone snaps you out of the daze, opening your chat group to answer your friends. 

[nobara is typing...]

how was rehearsal today?!???! we jsut finished class

also it's been so long since we saw u :(

[(y/n) is typing...]

so good as always is that even a question luv xx

theyre both so talented as individuals as they r in a pdd... it was rlly insightful too!

gojo-senpai kept staring at me today for some reason tho. he felt different today, a little more reserved and whatnot

[megumi is typing...]

Maybe he felt intimidated by your skill lol

"i'll take my leave first, (y/n)! i've got an errand to run. mei mei's accompanying me," ieiri grins, bringing you into a sweat-filled hug. she's used to soaked leotards, even if the grimace on your end doesn't go unnoticed by the principal.

she lets out a chuckle, "you'll get used to mixed sweat and whatnot, (y/n). see ya!"

curtseying comes easy, bidding goodbye to the principal and the ballet mistress.

you were ready to go back to the conversation on your phone, although a call of your name distracted you from the conversation.

"yes...? gojo?" you mumbled, the last name feeling foreign on your lips without the honorific at the back. you put your phone away as the studio immediately diminishes in size, seemingly putting the two of you in a tight space with nowhere to go. it certainly felt like it, with the wordless prompt of his hand.

"try the pas de deux with me," gojo proposes, pulling up a piano rendition of the score on spotify. it wasn't hard to spot the mischievous sparkle in his eye, along with the attractive grin plastered on his face.

the studio appeared calmer now that ieiri and mei mei had left, yet the conflict in your mind was loud and unwelcomed. it felt like a battle between the angel and the devil, and you were sure the devil was nobara herself, screeching at you to remind you of the shit-ton amount of conceitedness he had.

"are we allowed to? don't other people need to use the studio?" you mumble, standing up with the help of gojo nevertheless.

you're playing right into his hand, yet you took it anyway.

he waves a hand, "it's fine; you do know the pas de deux, don't you? we didn't go over it together much, but i'm sure the past rehearsals served you well."

the beginning was refined, having done it earlier with mei mei's help. it was mostly the only thing the two of you went over when mei mei was around, leaving the more complicated parts to ieiri. the fish dive comes naturally this time, imagining the glowing lights and the striking wedding tutu that kitri sports in the third act. 

there are howls of laughter at the many mishaps after that. knowing you hadn't rehearsed any of it with your partner, nor with the music before, it was only fair that accidents were to happen.

"no, no, if you let me go, i will kill you- ah! gojo!" you threaten, but it's lost in your mouth as he spins you way too many times, letting a loud shriek escape your mouth.

from a failed pirouette to a fish dive where he almost dropped you (he didn't), the laughter spilling from yours and his lips weren't common in a company class with everyone trying to dance their best.

"hey, hey, lay off the hair!" gojo quips, catching your off-balanced pirouette with a secure hand on the waist. you went along with the music, anyway, giving your exaggerated interpretation of kitri just as the music builds up. that earns a laugh from him, skillfully guiding you through even with the light banter in the room

"here it comes," he mutters to you, feeling the support of gojo's hands on yours as he pushes you off the complete the double attitude turn before hearing a loud ‘thwap!’.

"fuck, sorry! oh my god," you apologise, retracting your leg almost immediately after the collision.

"ah, shit," gojo exclaims, rubbing the side of his thigh as he brings you down gently. there's a frown on his face as you take a peek at the place you hit, the only thoughts running through your head being the articles or scandals you might be caught in.

(y/n) attempting to harm six eyes theatre's golden principal dancer? (y/n)'s downfall full of jealousy? (y/n) and the infamous gojo caught in a fight?

a giggle gets you out of the trenches, hands revealed like a finished magician's act. 

"i was kidding; that didn't hurt one bit," gojo jokes, hands naturally reaching forward to place them on your hips, "loosen up a bit, (y/n)."

"i am loose!" your mouth falls into a straight line, "shit that sounded bad, didn't it?" bursting into laughter, your head falls onto his shoulder as your hand reaches up to grasp at his forearm before recovering from the unexpected joke.

as the pas de deux fades off into nothing, only your breaths could be heard in the large studio, blending with the cold air of the air-conditioning and the hot breaths coming from your mouths. strings play softly from the phone, but all you can hear is the echo of the familiar melody as if it was being played in an auditorium. 

gojo gives you a gentle smile that you reciprocate, stuck in that annoying hypnotisation of his blue eyes and the same soft look he gives you whenever you aren't looking. 

you were looking now, though, and you'd like it even better if time stood still for you to savour this moment.

"would you like to go on a date with me (y/n)?"

there it was, the million-dollar question. it wasn't like you imagined this every night before you slept or whether he'd perform a flashy proposal to ask you out.

but even then, you thought back to the smirks he directed at every other dancer, you thought back to the conversation in masamichi's office, you thought back to nobara's advice.

"surely you're not thinking of getting wooed by gojo satoru, are you? it's dangerous, (y/n), i'm sure you know that."

"fuck, i know! but then he kisses my cheek that one time and everything feels right again. he jokes with me in rehearsals and nudges me when mei mei-sensei compliments me. he treats me to lunch and looks at me with so much passion i almost want to believe it. these past weeks of rehearsals have taught me well in dance, but i'm sure it's making my love life miserable with how much he looks at me and then goes back to flirting with the other dancers."

"i'm sorry, i can't, gojo."

you make haste with the way you're scurrying out of the studio, breaking into a jog to make sure he doesn't catch after you.

you should've said yes, right? with how much he's been building up the courage these past few weeks, careful not to let ieiri spot his sneaky glances. even the kiss on your cheek left his heart pumping long after he's left the diner. 

all that to leave him in the dust.

gojo lays in bed that day, eyes fully open as he struggles to get some rest, unaware of the similar turmoil you were going through. the dancer managed to sleep after innumerable amounts of overthinking, departing from consciousness with thoughts of you, just like he always has.

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

there weren't any tears involved on your end, save for some of the glossy looks you've given your black and white poster as you played with your pillowcase in anxiety. 

you dreaded the next rehearsal, knowing you had to face gojo sooner or later, especially with how you reacted to his question.

"mei mei-sensei, gojo," his name was muttered instead, embarrassed with the way you rushed out of the studio the previous day. mei mei looks between the two of you, clapping her hands together to get your attention.

"ieiri pulled a nerve around her arch, which was why we've been going to the orthopaedic more often. it's a minor injury, and she's resting right now, so we'll have to work with the two of you first. we'll stop at where we always do but feel free to continue if you feel comfortable."

great. it had to be on a day where i couldn't possibly face gojo.

he says nothing at that, both you and the pianist unsure of whether you were to continue.

gojo was still in his a game, hitting every leap and lifting you without much struggle. you, not so much, as the words you said to him replayed in your head like a broken record.

you fell off your balances, you couldn't portray kitri well, you felt the weight of your body get heavier with each repeated thought of the day before. hell, even your practice tutu felt heavy. 

he sighs again for the umpteenth time as the music stops, the two of you receiving the same criticism from the previous run. mei mei tries her best to be polite, although you can tell she's losing her patience as well.

"(y/n)? what's gotten into you? i understand every dancer has their bad days, but today appears terrible with the silent treatment you two are giving each other."

you swallow at the question, taking a shaky breath before opening your mouth. you look to gojo for help, but his eyes evade yours by looking at the floor with arms crossed. his head whips toward you with your following words.

"he asked me... on a date. i rejected him, rushed out the studio," you mutter, tracing the fabric of the tutu hanging on your hips.

"you asked her out on a date?" mei mei states in disbelief, looking at the ballerino with a face full of perplexity. 

"yeah, i did, and i would do it again," the last whisper is lost to you, unable to hear because of the distance between you and him.

"wh- why? what's wrong with that?" you ask mei mei-sensei, yet again being pulled in by the sky blue of his eyes before looking to the ballet mistress.

"mei mei-"

"gojo never asks anyone out. ever. i'm sure you're the first one."

you can see gojo deflate at that at the corner of your eye, shoulders sagging forward in defeat while mei mei takes the chance to leave for you to sort things out. 

"what...?" was the only thing you could muster, eyes following your instructor as she exits the space.

"you two are dismissed for now. talk to him about it and resolve your problem," she waves a hand at you, the tension growing by the second as she's entirely out of the studio.

"gojo?" you ask cautiously, stepping up to him to pull him from the position he was in.

"you believe the rumours, the articles, don't you?" he says, completely unrelated to the situation at hand. the look he gives you was something you couldn't figure out, snatching his arm out of your grip as he puts some distance between the two of you. 

"you think i'm some cocky bitch who's just strutting around the company, free to do my own thing?" the other says it in a quiet tone, but it didn't make it less menacing than if he were to shout it. 

"do you think i enjoy the way the female dancers throw themselves at me when i'm trying to focus on my mistakes and corrections? you think i enjoy the annoying ass articles written about me?"

with each question, gojo doesn't fail to intimidate you, taking a step each time until you're cornered against the barre. those questions are left unanswered as gojo's eyes bore into yours, losing its usual spark when he glances at you during the pas de deux or when he's laughing at a joke you made over lunch.

"do you think i enjoy being talked about every. single. time?! when i'm passing in the corridors, in masamichi's office, in the company classes, among the little trio you have going on. when i asked you out, it was because i genuinely felt that i could connect to you: with no wrong assumptions or bad impressions," gojo runs a hand through his sweaty hair, the frustrated emotions he felt seeping through into his speech.

"...everything felt so fake to me while getting to know you were the only real thing i could cherish when i get to hold you during the pas de deux, or when my lips landed on your cheek. it was the only real thing that brought on your blush that i imagine your lips on mine way too much."

you chose to ignore the way your heart flutters at the confession, staring up at him with apparent conflict on your face.

"then why can't you just ignore them? i'd expect someone like you to not give a shit about what people think," you whisper.

"you got to know the wrong gojo, then. just like right now, i can't face what others have to murmur around about me."

"right now...?" you caught onto his words fast, your eyes immediately spotting the curious faces of both your friends and a few other dancers fighting for a spot to watch you two through the studio door's glass.

"c'mon, pack up, let's not talk here," gojo states. within seconds, the two of you were out the door with your hand clasped in his. you were quick on your feet to leave the premises, naturally following gojo's lead to an unknown building. 

letting go of his hand, you explore the space, taking note of every tiny little thing that made the apartment his own.

"sorry for the mess. i live alone and hardly clean the apartment." the nervousness from the studio stayed, the other opting to remain at the doorway in worry. the silence in the apartment grows, your eyes now trained to the floor as gojo suddenly speaks up.

"i couldn't ignore them, (y/n). their expectations disguised as gossip and rumours allowed me to perform properly. i was afraid of disappointment, of getting ridiculed if i were to make mistakes on stage. any slip-up was seen by the company's sponsors, critics, everyone. their eyes were always on me, and i could never let myself get eaten up by the articles." 

"the industry is filled with competition and talent. anyone can replace anyone at any given time; you'd have to have a mind of steel to not get affected by every little thing!"

his eyes meet the back of your head, the fatigue leaking through the lines of his eyes and face. as you turn around, you meet his exhausted ones, and, step by step, you approach the man.

"i can't say i have that mind of steel that i mentioned. i hardly come close to it, (y/n). i'm happy with the company, i'm content with my place, and i'm terribly in love with ballet, but... i'm so tired, really."

your expression of unsaid pity was all you could offer, bringing gojo into a hug as he wrapped his arms around you. the way he relaxed told you of the safe space you provided, while his tight, squeezing arms showed he hasn't embraced in a long time.

a minute or two passes, relishing in the now comfortable silence as the other collects himself. 

"i'm laying everything on you, fuck, i'm sorry."

you shake your head into his chest, "don't apologise, you idiot. i should be the one saying sorry for rushing off like that," pulling away, you were heartbroken to see the shine of his tears waiting to cascade down his cheeks.

"i'm sorry i ran off. i was afraid, for a different reason. my rational side always protects my heart, knowing i've had bad experiences with friends and connections. if i couldn't sustain a friendship, who was i to jump into a relationship?" you hand trails to his nape to mindlessly play with the hair there as a form of habit with your own hair.

"it was brave of you, putting yourself out so vulnerably when i only looked at the surface of what you were. i'm sure it felt like those weeks of getting to know each other meant something to you, and i threw it away in fear that you'd leave me after a few months."

"so please don't apologise, i'm sorry i ever made you feel like shit because i didn't know about the weight on your shoulders."

a smile graces your face, the hand on his nape going back to his cheek.

"and stop crying; it doesn't make your eyes look good," you whisper, wiping the tears before they fall as gojo lets out a chuckle.

"you think my eyes look good?" 

you roll your eyes, "god, who wouldn't? it's like looking at the sky and the ocean all at the same time. and when you stare at me? i always have trouble looking away from you because of how striking they are."

"are they now?" distracted from the emotional vomit earlier, he grins at your description of him. you're lucky to have your hands on his cheeks just so you can feel the effect you have on him every time you offer a compliment.

"are you done complimenting me?"

"i've only commented on your eyes, though. would you like me to continue?"

"i think you should kiss me first."

you're taken aback by gojo's boldness, a surprised expression appearing at the question. the way he looks at you beats the gazes through the mirror as he warms up and the look of interest over his bowl of miso soup. it beats the glances at you during the company classes and the short, fleeting glimpses as you move together during the pas de deux. it beats every single one that your head descends back into his chest, shy at the look of adoration he was giving you.

"can i really?" you whisper in his shirt, refusing to look up even when he pulls away from your embarrassment.

as his arms unwind themselves from your middle, he crouches down to reach your eye and bring you back from a world of uneasy firsts.

"is it your first?"

this was when gojo satoru was at his rawest, with his hands cupped around your cheeks in the slowly darkening apartment as he prepares himself to kiss you.

"it is."

gojo says nothing after that, the moment of silence feeling like forever before his lips meet yours. the sunset coming in from his windows hits at the right time, because then you'd be able to point at it and describe the colours you feel when his mouth moves against yours. you'd be able to sense your heart pumping and blood flowing more clearly than when you've just finished a demanding combination of steps when he encircles his arms around you to bring you closer.

without choreographed steps, nothing feels more fitting than a kiss full of passion that isn't in a pas de deux. ironically, it was the ones you enjoyed more, more than the kisses in romeo & juliet or in manon.

oxygen becomes scarce, then, prompting you to break away from gojo just as your heart fills up with joy, way more than you can fathom.

you crash your lips into his again, now catching him off-guard. he melts into it with no problem, a laugh spilling from his lips at your eagerness.

"i like you a lot, tons, (y/n). i don't say this often, but i like you."

"it's too early to say it's love, right? because i think i like you too, a lot, tons."

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

you agreed to keep it under wraps for now, with you planning to leave half n' hour later to avoid suspicion. the dancer sacrificed his Z's so you could catch them instead, although you continued to lay awake in his bed watching the white-haired man get ready. 

"are you sure the floor wasn't uncomfortable? you could've just used your own bed, y'know."

he only shakes his head, "'s okay. my back was acting up, anyway. it was basically free therapy."

you laugh at that, now sitting up fully to admire gojo's physique. with how affectionate and sweet he is behind closed doors, you swore that he was a different man. he shoots you a finger gun and a wink, knowing the way he's got you wrapped around his finger.

"see you later," gojo whispers, landing a peck on you before taking off on his own. it wasn't long before you had to get up, taking in the room and its decorative spaces. he has ballet posters and photos of his friends; he even had a diffuser.

a yawn takes over you as your hands land on the shirt on you.

fuck, you didn't have anything clean to wear. gojo had provided you with a shirt and pants from his wardrobe yesterday, rejecting his briefs with a laugh. with no bra, you decided to just use a spare leotard you keep in your bag, settling for the clothes gojo had lent you the day before.

the theatre felt different when you entered, heading straight for the studio to avoid any more prying eyes from the younger dancers. 

"hey," you say, rubbing at your eyes to the trio warming up their feet.

nobara gasps, grasping at your hand immediately to pull you down onto the floor.

"are you good?" she mumbles, staring at your face for any signs of hurt or crying.

"do i need to beat him up?" megumi challenges, flexing his bicep as a joke, "i've been working out more."

"i'll go tell him off for you, (y/n)!" yuji grins, preparing to quite literally stand up to head over to the other corner of the room.

"no! i mean, yes, i'm good. please don't beat him up, and... sit down, yuji." you sigh. 

"nothing... happened, guys. i know what it looked like in the studio yesterday but there wasn't any catfights or physical fights," you pause, looking at megumi, your hands instinctively going to the pouch where you kept your shoes, "we figured out our problem and solved it, that's all."

"so why are you wearing his shirt, then?" nobara shoots without hesitation, causing you to halt your movements for a bit. beside you, you can hear yuji choking on his water. 

"i... we.. uhm," you trail off, trying to find the right words to fill in the gaps of your explanation. your eyes flit around the room before landing on gojo's, finding that his were already fixed on you.

"uh... yeah... we cleared up our differences and talked a bit," you mutter, lips breaking into a smile before you break eye contact with him. the trio stay dumbfounded at your word vomit, witnessing the exchange with the principal dancer with puzzlement. 

"oh my god, did you guys fuck?" nobara whispers.

"what? no!" you laugh, whacking her shoulder as you stood up to loosen up your feet, preparing for the class conducted by masamichi himself today.

"i'll explain everything when i get back home, okay?" you say to the three of them, stuck in a side hug with nobara as her arm stay loosely wrapped around your waist.

they can only offer you their  nods, bidding you goodbye with a slight wave.

as you enter the same rehearsal studio, there's only a single lone dancer in it, stretching over in a middle split as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

"hey," you call out to gojo, setting your bag of things down while you run up to him. he stands up instantly, pulling you into an embrace that shocks you with the sheer force of it.

"did you already miss me? that's fast."

he mumbles into your hair, "mhmm... shut up, please."

you laugh at that, recovering from the hug despite the other's protests.

"c'mon, i need to warm up, plus we're supposed to keep this a secret, right?"

gojo whines but lets you go anyway, but not before he plants a kiss on your hand as he lets you do your own thing. the next set of footsteps catch you in surprise, eyes widening at her presence when you run up to her in excitement.

"ieiri-senpai! are you feeling better?" you ask, peeking around at her feet, where she limped on earlier.

"yes, i am, (y/n)," she pats your head and realises your choice of clothing. you noticed her smirk, but before you could counter her question, she beats you to it, "and... i've seen that the dumbass finally made a move."

there's no denying the blush that makes its way onto your cheeks, seemingly oblivious to the stares from everyone when in reality, they were curious to know of what happened the day before.

"yeah, i guess he did," you sigh dreamily, giving off your feelings as ieiri could only smile at your situation.

mei mei enters the room with authority, making you perk up at her words as she walks to the centre of the barre with purpose.

"i trust that you've solved everything, yes? because you two have been quite the talk around the studio," mei mei states, braiding her hair into a side braid as ieiri takes a seat.

"i took her hand to get away from the crowd, sensei. if anything, i should be blamed for engaging in contact that might've given off the assumption that we were dating," gojo steps up.

"but you are dating, aren't you?" mei mei grins, putting on her shoes.

"i..." you tried to speak, but gojo interrupts you before then.

"only if she'll have me, then yes, we are."

you fight back a smile, stepping forward to catch his hand in yours. he's shaking, not at all the confident gojo satoru that you've become so accustomed to.

"yes," your single affirmation holds so much weight, looking up at him with as much joy as he did with you in the morning.

"okay, good! i've gone through enough of gojo staring at you from across the room. let's continue," mei mei casually says, "i'm sure (y/n) has heard the news, yes?"

she's quick to pull you out of your thoughts of gojo looking at you during rehearsals with the question of the news that left you texting the trio at 1am.

[nitta-sensei is typing...]

(y/n)? do you have a minute to spare?

[(y/n) is typing...]

yes sensei?

what seems to be the...

you're cut off by the abrupt phone call as gojo brushes his teeth, speaking to you, though incoherently, through the foam and lather in his mouth.

"yes, nitta-sensei? what is it?"

"i'm sorry for conveying this news over the phone, and i was too excited to wait until the next day. you might or might not like it, but... you're to replace ieiri in the gala event for now." by now, gojo had stopped brushing due to your lack in reply.

he peeks his head out of the bathroom as nitta continues, "she has to heed her orthopaedic's advice and take a break for now, but since you've been shadowing the two for a good amount of time, masamichi thinks its best you take up the role of the female part."

your jaw stays dropped even after nitta says her goodbyes, the phone lit up due to your shock. 

"(y/n)? what happened?"

"i'm going to be dancing with you, gojo," you say quietly, "i'm dancing the pas de deux with you!" 

you bow your head in acknowledgement, "yes, i have." 

ieiri sees the hesitation since now the original dancer was seated in front of you. she shoots you a double thumbs-up as motivation while mei mei briefs you on the gala like she did with the couple at the start.

it's short, and within the next moment, you're already flying through the sky with gojo's help. the steps start to become more apparent and distinct to you, letting the pianist lead the way as the lifts and pair work merge together like a seamless thread.

mei mei is firm in her teaching, knowing your weaknesses and strengths by heart with the past rehearsals that she's done. stopping the two of you before letting ieiri take over was routine, but for now, ieiri contributes with her wisdom from the chair instead. 

the rehearsal progresses slowly, opting instead to complete it bit by bit as the weeks turn into days and the days turn into hours. you had to take extra care of your feet, icing them and making sure your blisters don't distract you as rehearsals extend longer to ensure your best performance.

when you had your own commitments, your best friends had theirs, fulfilling principal or first soloist roles just for the gala. there was hardly any time for you to see the trio, but you made up with late facetime calls and online dinners with them.

even with the distance in the company class, gojo never fails to make it up to you with kisses under the moonlight as you watch video after video on don quixote, although taking a specific liking to the pairing of nuñez and muntagirov. 

・．━━━━━━━━━━．・

"you ready?" gojo lets out a nervous breath, already hearing the chatter of the gala attendees behind the curtains. beside you, other dancers are warming up for their own parts. some were doing a solo while others were doing a pas de deux like you were, but nonetheless, everyone gathered here was to share the love for ballet.

"hell no, i'm shaking," you laugh, playing with the elastic that was to go over your middle finger. a beautiful, white tutu was tailored just for you with minor tweaks from ieiri's tutu while they were in the midst of completing it. to honour and perform the role of kitri gave you immense joy and excitement, even though you were jittery at the responsibility passed on to you.

"how are you doing?" nobara asks, making you jump at the sudden voice. she lets out a giggle, "sorry."

 "i'm... very nervous. is that even a question?" you ask her, holding onto her exposed shoulder a little too tightly. she dons a breathtaking, flowy costume with puffy sleeves and intricate detail. at the same time, yuji was suited up as nobara's partner in a pair of yellow tights, completing the couple look in the comedy-filled la fille mal gardée.

"oi, hot pants, come here! my partner's here finally after taming his hair," nobara jokes, pulling yuji over. they lean into each other's sides naturally, posing with peace signs and big smiles that they were asked to convey to the audience.

"good luck out there," megumi catches your attention, awkward as can be, as he pulls you in for a hug. his pas de deux partner is smiling at you beside him, taking your hand in hers.

"your rehearsals with gojo-senpai are incredible, (y/n)-senpai! all the best for your performance later," she bows, clearly relieved at saying the things she wanted to say.

"all the best for your le corsaire, too," you grin, waving them off excitedly before joining your basilio at the hip.

"you'll do great out there, trust me," gojo places a peck on your temple, holding you close by the waist as you warm up together. there's shared laughter between the two of you, exchanging jokes to calm your nerves and keep your mind moving. with the rush hour backstage, it was imminent that the show was starting soon, the many dancers continuing their warmup without trouble.

only you seemed to be on edge, performing as the first couple of the night for a role you've always loved and adored while watching from the balcony of auditoriums.

"i will. we will." you nod, hands twined with the other's as the curtains make their way up.

"breathe. we'll nail this like we always do," gojo kisses your linked hands, staring down at you with those same eyes you fell in love with. a smile replaced what you couldn't say out loud, bumping your head into his chest as an affectionate gesture, "let's go."

among the cheers and blinding lights, you could only focus on gojo's hand on the small of your back as he led you out. with practised steps, nothing could faze you except, maybe, his dazzling smile and the gentle eyes he has on you for the whole pas de deux.

living the life of an innkeeper's daughter was what you had to portray. while your 'father' was hesitant at first, he's finally given you the blessing to marry your lover, basilio. the glimmering tutu and effortless partnership was only half the job done, and for the radiant smile you had on at the moment, you hoped at least ieiri and mei mei would be proud of the story you were telling together with gojo.

the feeling from rehearsals is amplified on stage, with the orchestra's power and the costumes, providing you with a feeling like no other. and as gojo approaches with a flawless tour en l'air, you realise that with how much work you put in behind the scenes, the result always pays off. 

as gojo has his hands on your waist, twirling you around like nothing in a quadruple pirouette, you realise that every step was made possible with the help of ieiri and mei mei and your best friends and lastly, gojo satoru.

the golden, treasured prodigy which you somehow managed to develop feelings for. the talented principal who whines when you won't refuse to give him affection and the once-cocky individual who softens just at the sight of you.

and as the music reaches the end, you want nothing more than to stay in this pas de deux with gojo satoru, in a dance of two.

you end off on an incredible note, chest heaving from the demanding technicalities of the pas de deux. nevertheless, your brain shuts out the thunderous applause, with some imparting you with their standing ovations and others who decided to scream 'bravo!' at the stage.

gojo offers a grin, bringing you close with a hand as you thank the audience with endless curtseys. bowing to your partner was next, thanking him for the interminable rehearsals and that hectic day of emotion from the studio right up to his home.

you almost practically run backstage with the adrenaline flowing through your body, the next act already on stage for the gala. 

"oh my god, oh my god!" you whisper-shout in pure glee, hugging gojo close the moment you were out of view of the audience.

"you did it."

"we did it," you reassure, pulling from the embrace to smile up at him. you could feel the dancers' eyes around you, not knowing whether they should look to you or to look away.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, "'s okay, let them look. i don't mind it when i'm with you."

"just to confirm, we... shouldn't kiss, right?" you mumble, but you inch closer to his lips anyway.

"no... i don't think we should," gojo grins, indulging you in the very kiss you've waited for, knowing that right now, it wasn't the stage lights, nor was it the general heat after completing a difficult pas de deux.

it's as if the world gave you rose-tinted glasses, because that was all you could recognise now as gojo pulls you from backstage with your hand tightly locked onto his. he wasn't the six eyes theatre's prized principal, he was just gojo as you run past the many costumes being hung with the click-clacking of your pointe shoes.

you could compare it, almost, to running across a field with a billowing dress behind you, but alas, you were satisfied with being his kitri. for when she and basilio have a life of marriage ahead of them, you and gojo satoru have nothing but longing glances and shared laughter over your stumbling slip-ups in the studio as you tackle one act after the next.

the pas de deux was a connection and a story, and the both of you were just starting out yours.