#“ballet music for beginners”

[balletrax]

Discover the Best Ballet Class Music for every Dancer's Journey

Ballet, known for its elegance and precision, needs a perfect blend of movement and music. The best ballet class music is vital. It helps dancers find the right rhythm for each step, from pliés to pirouettes. The right music can boost your practice and transform your performance. This is true for both beginner and expert dancers. Let's explore how music can enhance your ballet journey.

The Importance of Music in Ballet

Music is the heartbeat of ballet. It gives rhythm, energy, and emotion to every movement. We select the best ballet class music with great attention. It must match the tempo and style of each exercise. It should guide dancers through their routines with precision. From the warm-up at the barre to the grand leaps in the centre, music helps with timing. It also adds a dynamic layer to the movements.

The right music supports technique and helps dancers connect with their performance. It enables them to express the story behind the steps, bringing artistry to life in every gesture. The music you dance to is key to your experience. It matters whether it is a classical piece or a contemporary variation.

The best ballet class music suits all dancers, from beginners to pros. At each stage of your ballet journey, the right music ensures you are progressing at the right pace. For beginners, slower tempos allow for practice with proper alignment and technique. As dancers advance, the music becomes more complex. It challenges them to refine their movements while staying precise and graceful.

Balletrax’s Ballet Class CD: The Perfect Companion

Balletrax offers a ballet class CD for dancers at all practice stages. This curated collection of tracks achieves an ideal balance between rhythm and melody. It supports dancers from warm-up to cool-down. Balletrax's ballet class music helps dancers stay in tune with their movements. This ensures precision and grace in each step.

The CD is a perfect companion. It has music for all phases of a ballet class. Balletrax's music, from slow adagios to fast allegros, adds depth to every class. It keeps dancers engaged and motivated.

Music Books to Unlock the Secrets of Ballet Melodies

Dancers wanting to understand ballet music should explore music books. They can offer invaluable insights. These books help dancers grasp the structure and nuances of ballet. They cover everything from the music's timing to its emotional undertones. Studying these musical works will help dancers interpret the music in class. They will then connect more with the piece they are dancing to.

Knowing the music behind the movements helps dancers. It refines their timing, boosts their musicality, and enhances their artistry. The best ballet class music is not for listening. It's for interpreting and expressing each note through movement.

Conclusion

Finding the best ballet class music is key to enhancing your ballet experience. Music provides the structure, rhythm, and emotional connection needed to elevate every performance. Balletrax's ballet class CDs and music books let dancers immerse themselves in ballet. They can improve their technique, expression, and performance. The right music inspires dancers to new heights. It makes each plié and pirouette more graceful and meaningful.

[alextydaisuda123]

Pepperman (Honesty) from Genocide Tower (@milk-545)

He just appeared, and I already have a fanart for him. He was drawn quite simply, which doesn't surprise me, since there are only 2 colors, blue and a drop of pink. By the way, I was a little surprised by the pointe shoes on his hands, and the author, sorry, but I changed the lacing on his hands, since I thought it would be a little more appropriate to tie it the way they usually tie them when wearing these same pointe shoes. As I understand it, this AU is a big reference to Undertale. Judging by the fact that this Pepperman is blue, he is the soul of Honesty, and he is also a ghost (which I displayed using the glow in the picture). By nature, he is timid, silent and modest. His backstory includes the following facts: he became friends with a girl named Betty, who was just a beginner ballerina, and he received from her as a souvenir: pointe shoes and a tutu (which Pepperman doesn't have, which is a pity, I would have liked to see it😏✨️). And he drew her portrait upon returning to the tower. And Peppino killed him (I don't know why, although judging by the AU title, it's clear why ._.). By the way, I drew a pose that slightly references ballet, no one is against it, right? And for some reason it seems to me that because of his emotional state and the reference to ballet, the music "Swan Lake" would suit him, I don't know, I just feel that way.

[babyphat05]

what are some hobbies you have lined up for the summer? I need inspo

I'm curating my summer to be as eventful as possible lol.

I'm training for a 5k race. In preparation, I'm setting running goals every week. I'm a super beginner so I'm looking into joining a running group this summer to keep me motivated.

I'm taking my ballet hobby up a notch. I've been back into ballet for a year now and want to start challenging myself now that I've familiarized myself with everything. There are some masterclasses at Alvin Ailey that I really want to take.

I'm challenging myself to read 10 books by the end of August/beginning of September. I curated a summer reading list so we'll see if I get through it all to keep me on track with my yearly reading goals lol

I'm taking in-person French classes. I can not for the life of me learn French by myself. These classes are only once a week, but I highly believe that physically going to these classes, and having a set module that I have to follow on top of being consistent with Duolingo will help me get the basics down pact by August.

I'm pushing myself to be outside this summer. Not in a 'clubs and bars' sense but outside in a 'day parties, networking events, Sunday farmers market, live music, trying new restaurants' way. I think everyone should take advantage of the nice weather and not be in the house 24/7 this summer. I do a lot of activities solo, and it's so much fun to keep this momentum going by planning activities that I can have fun doing by myself.

[blossom-hwa]

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre:  fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.  

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[blushblushbear]

Wrote a quick fic of @ren-054's Vitya and Nimh based off a drawing they did of them (and also cause I think they make a dang cute little couple!)

Mildly suggestive, most just sensual!

more under the cut!

At the start of it, Nimh was just trying to be more flexible. 

He wasn’t getting any younger and it was never too early to start trying to take care of your body; but given his heart condition, anything high impact or high cardio was out. 

He had attempted a yoga class but it was just too much! And all of that relaxing new wave zen music blasting while he was struggling did not help to relax him actually…

So on a weird whim, he took up a dance class.

It was beginner ballet. He knows that’s probably a bit weird but something about it called to him. He wasn’t about to drop it all and be a dancer or anything, but he was enjoying himself!

Actually, what he was really enjoying was his dreamy teacher with the dashing smile. It wasn’t why he joined or anything, or even why he stuck to it for months, but he had to admit the first time that elegant ray of sunshine beamed into the class he felt his knees get a little weak. And it didn’t hurt that the teacher was probably one of the most chill and encouraging people he’d ever met. Between his pretty face and charming personality;

Yeah, Nimh had to admit it, he had a little crush going. 

He’d never act on it of course, he’s way too much of a coward for that! But just being able to be around him once a week, to see him glide around swan as he watched over the class, to see that smile, to hear that voice– it got him through many a tough week.

And occasionally when he felt his hand on him– supporting his back, adjusting his stance, stretching his leg just a bit further– it was accompanied by the feeling of his heart leaping into his throat. 

Not that Vitya needed to know that.

Oh yeah, and his name was Vitya. Just when Nimh thought he couldn’t get more dreamy… 

He was trying to clear his head and focus on breathing as he stood there, eyes closed, bent over, back straight, feet in an awkward fourth position because he couldn’t handle fifth yet, one arm outstretched as gracefully as he could manage (which is to say, not really at all), while the other death gripped onto the balance bar above so that he didn’t fall flat on his face… again… 

“Your face is turning red again.” Vitya’s voice sounded so close, and when Nimh opened his eyes, he nearly jumped when he saw Vitya’s face just under his. And so so close… “You’re holding your breath again.” Vitya said with a bit of a pout, “You need to BREATHE.” He took a deep breath in to demonstrate, making it all look so easy as he practically folded himself in half to lower his face to meet Nimh’s. Nimh took in a deep breath, and exhaled it shakily, his limbs wobbling a little making him feel even more embarrassed than he already did. 

“Excellent!” He chirped, rising to a full stand with seemingly no effort at all. “Alright class, deep breath in–” a collective inhale, “and as we rise, exhale out! Good!” Nimh was grateful Vitya had sauntered on, so he wouldn’t catch how shakily he lifted his back, or how red his face still was– albeit for… different reasons. 

Even though he enjoyed himself, Nimh realized he hadn’t gotten much more flexible in the months he’d been coming to the class. He wondered why he hadn’t just been kicked out at this point. And when Vitya called to him at the end of class, for a brief moment, he worried he was about to be…

As the rest of the class filtered out for the day, Nimh and Vitya were left alone. 

“Hey,” Vitya began, his smile still sweet, but his eyes seemed a bit more concerned, “I’ve noticed you’re still having some trouble… This was my last class for the day and I was wondering– if you’re down to stay a few extra minutes, I’d really like to work with you one on one for a bit.”

Nimh screamed internally. 

It was bad enough he had to deal with his dumb little crush head on in the moments Vitya hovered around him, but having to do that ALONE. 

“I mean– if you don’t have the time today that’s fine…” 

His brain was scrambling, trying to find a way to say no, but as he looked at Vitya’s face (his stupidly handsome face, as it pouted at him, hand on a cocked hip and the other hand hooked against his other arm in a pose only a dancer standing idly would pull) he couldn’t find it in him to turn Vitya down. 

“N-no, I have a few minutes I could spare…” Nimh stuttered out. Vitya’s face was immediately beaming.

“Wonderful, let’s jump right into it then!” 

Within a few minutes Nimh was back standing at the bar, posing the same as he had earlier, only now he had Vitya’s full attention as he shakily lowered himself.

Vitya circled him as he bent over, eyes studying Nimh’s movements. 

“I know it’s hard for you,” Vitya began as he came up behind Nimh, “but you have to bend lower.” Nimh felt Vitya’s hand on his lower back and a chill rushed up his spin as Vitya began to gently push him lower. “That’s it…” Vitya cooed, hand slowly sliding up Nimh’s spine towards his shoulder blades, “bend further… remember to breathe…” Nimh could hear the smile in Vitya’s voice, but it felt… different… almost coy… and as Vitya leaned over him from behind, pushing Nimh further down, he wondered which was more inappropriate; this position, or the fact that having Vitya behind him with his hand on his back was putting the wildest images into his mind. 

Images of his hot dance instructor. Images of said instructor bending him over like this to have his way with him. Images of Nimh panting as Vitya, firm but gentle, gave him everything he had…

Nimh exhaled out shakily (though shaky for different reasons this time), closed his eyes, and tried to clear his head. His heart was pounding, and he was certain he was blushing from ear to ear. Vitya chuckled behind him. Nimh had never heard Vitya sound so playful, as the words,

“Good, very good…” escaped Vitya’s lips and made Nimh’s knees go a little weak. 

And then Vitya’s hand was gone.

Nimh blinked his eyes open, suddenly remembering where he was. 

“And now, rise up slowly.” Vitya said cheerily, circling around again and landing towards Nimh’s front. Nimh rose up slowly, quietly cursing how all it took was one dreamy dance instructor to turn him into a pervert apparently. What had he even been thinking? He closed his eyes, and bit his lip embarrassed. 

Vitya smiled, cocking his head slyly at Nimh. 

“Your hips aren’t square enough.” Vitya said in a very matter of fact manner, “You need to keep your hips straight.” He walked over to Nimh again, coming around behind him once more as he set his hands on Nimh’s hips, moving them a bit forcefully into the correct posture. “See, like this, they need to stay like this as you move. They’re perfectly fine as you go down, but once you come back up they’re all tilted.”

Nimh heard Vitya’s voice, but he took in none of the words he said. The moment Vitya’s hands were on his hips, Nimh’s head went all fuzzy.

“Try it once more.” Vitya instructed.

“Wh–huh?”

“Bend over again, and this time try and keep your hips squared.” 

Oh GOD.

With a gulp, Nimh began to bend over once more. 

“That’s it. Nice and steady…” one of Vitya’s hands was on his back again, “Remember to keep your back straight. Yes, just like that!” 

Yep. Nimh was bent over in front of his sexy ass dance teacher while said sexy ass dance teacher was behind him with one hand on his hip and the other on his back.

And Nimh was internally screaming again. 

He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare but wow was it sure fantasy fodder for later… 

He tried to not think about it as his cheeks burned and he rose back up slowly.

“There you go,” Vitya continued, hand still on Nimh’s back, guiding him back up just as steadily as he lowered him, “And then– you’re back up! Shoulders square, hips square,” Vitya’s hand smoothed to Nimh’s front as he pulled Nimh back a bit, “back straight.” Nimh chanced a nervous glance at Vitya whose face was so close to his, smile all beam and eyes focused in on Nimh’s face. “Perfect.” 

Nimh stood there frozen for a moment, until a small gasp made him realize he had stopped breathing again. 

“O-oh… Uh… I…”

“Once more.”

“Huh? Oh! U-uh…”

With Vitya’s hands still resting on him, Nimh began to slowly lower again. Vitya still guided him, but more lightly than before. And before Nimh knew it, he was doubled over in front of his teacher again.

“And back up,” Vitya’s hand slid up Nimh’s side, guiding him to rise again, this time stopping a little up his arm. “Excellent. And back down,” Vitya’s thumb that rested at Nimh’s hip gave a little push and once again Nimh lowered. It was starting to feel a lot easier with Vitya guiding him. His hands helping to ease Nimh into the movements. He didn’t mean to, but he felt himself give his body over to Vitya’s control. It was forceful and gentle, bright yet sly, demanding yet sweet, and most of all– playful.

After a few more bends, Nimh eased back against Vitya again, stretching up and draping himself over his form as he panted lightly. His cheeks were flushed, eyes half lidded and mind hazy as he looked back at Vitya, who greeted him with a warm yet knowing smirk.

“There you are. See, you were practically in half on that last one.” Nimh was only half paying attention to Vitya’s words. His body felt so closely pressed against his, Nimh’s eyes on Vitya’s lips with a sudden urge to kiss him. Vitya noticed… “Nimh… you… you like me don’t you?” Nimh’s eyes went back to Vitya’s, lips pressing into an embarrassed line. Nimh couldn’t say it, but his expression answered for him. Vitya chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you out like that. I just…” his hand slid up Nimh’s arm and took his hand, never breaking eye contact as he lowered it and giving it a small kiss. “I’ve noticed.” Vitya winked.

Nimh snapped back to reality, whole face turning red as he took a step away from Vitya, hands covering his mouth and eyes wide. 

Vitya cocked his head curiously.

“Sorry… was that not alright?” he asked, eyes soft with concern.

“No… I MEAN– NOT ‘NO’ NO! NO! I MEAN, YES! I MEAN—” Nimh’s eyes darted around the room trying to get a grip, “what I mean to say is…” he paused, looking over at Vitya. He let out a small sigh, “I was just… surprised… is all… that was fine… b-better than fine actually…”

Vitya smiled, stepping closer to Nimh, who was still a stammering mess, but he didn’t step back. Vitya leaned in close, took Nimh’s hand again, and gave it another kiss.

“Good. I really was hoping to keep helping my favorite student.” the word ‘favorite’ dripped out of his mouth like honey and with another playful smirk he leaned in closer and whispered against Nimh’s ear “Though next time, I would like to give a more… private lesson.”A shiver ran up Nimh’s spine. Vitya pulled back and, with a look that was a mix of sly and puppy dog, asked, “Is that alright?” 

Nimh nodded like crazy in response.

“Wonderful!” Vitya beamed. He pulled his phone out, and with a playful smile said, “Give me your number, and we’ll work on some real flexibility together.”

[bluevelvetjoel]

Dance With You Tonight - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Authors Note: Idk who will all read this but hello, I'm Maddie! And welcome to my first written fic ever!! Pls do not judge if this is badly written😭 I would like to thank @punkshort for giving me the confidence for getting this actually written and beta-ing and this and giving me feedback. Much love and enjoy reading! xoxo

Series masterlist next chapter

Synopsis: You were training and studying to become a professional ballet dancer, until fate had other plans. Leaving you crushed and headed into a new career path. Becoming a dance teacher, a way of keeping dance in your life. Still in the process of healing, you meet Joel Miller. A single dad working as a contractor, trying to make his little girl happy by signing her up for dance lessons. Guarded when you first meet him, he teaches you to love a way you haven't before. 

Chapter warnings: Some swearing but that's it for now. Lightly edited. No Y/N

Chapter 1 - Beautiful Stranger (wordcount: 1.5k)

 Dancing was your passion, you had been doing it your entire life. It was clear from the start when your mom took you to see your first professional ballet performance. The costumes, the subtle movements and the rhythm of the music. Setting a goal from when you were just a kid, dreaming you would make it as a ballerina. It was easy to say that dance was your calling, being said from dance instructors. And even being accepted into The Boston Ballet. You had a bright future of dance ahead, you could picture it then. Being on a stage, the bright lights focused on only you. Where you danced for a full audience in a theater. 

Unfortunately right out of graduating,  those dreams came crashing to a halt. It was all because of the accident. It kept you from your training, and not being able to keep up with your dance peers.

You felt there was no direction your life was going anymore, when you had moved back home to Texas to heal, where there was nothing to keep you busy. Then, Miss Beatrice’s dance works came into motion. You were given an opportunity to teach childrens beginners ballet. Your parents urged you to do something productive like this. Thinking you might as well keep some part of dancing in your life, you accepted. 

You were playing the light piano music from your phone, and faced the bright eyed little kids. First practice of the season always seemed to go smoothly. Some were not as excited to be there as others, but nonetheless, you began instruction. Introducing them to the basics, the 5 basic positions. And had them walk across the room doing different movements with their arms.

Then you hear the metal door suddenly open, looking away from your students, you see a broad frame with a duffel bag shoved in his left hand and rushing his daughter to sit on the chair to slip her ballet shoes on. 

“Um pardon the interruption…” he said sincerely. You stop your teaching to smile and walk out of the studio and into the waiting room. 

“That's alright…we aren’t even ten minutes in.” you waved him off, and eyes wandered to the curly haired girl rushing in the waiting room. 

‘Keep on practicing the positions girls..” you say as you walk out the door to greet the dad. You look over to the girl and smile. “You must be Sarah.” You say she nods enthusiastically and beams. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad” he introduced himself, holding his hand out for you to take it. His hands were calloused but felt comforting, different from your delicate hand. You could almost feel your breath hitch. “Sorry for bein’ late for the first practice… I was behind at work and was in rush gettin’ home to pick her up.” he said with a sincere face. You examine his features, dark brown eyes that look like they've seen a lot. And lines that were deepening on his forehead.

You introduce yourself and continue to reassure him.  “Again it is no problem at all, just as long as you don't make it a habit.” you tease lightly. He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. He looks around to see the other parents of the dancers getting agitated, which you notice and realize you need to continue class. “Well Joel, if you aren't busy you are welcome to sit on the bench and watch.” you smile and fold your two hands together. He did just that and took a breath, placing his hands on his knees. “C’mon Sarah, let’s head in.” she skips behind you and you shut the door behind. You gave a warm smile and had her stand at the bar with the others. 

Class then resumes and you catch Sarah up. Joel watches your softness teaching, and your gentle movements as you demonstrated to the peaceful music. Standing on your tiptoes and raising your arms, Joel notices the happiness in your eyes right away. It's as if you entered a completely different reality. He appreciates watching you helping Sarah when she was struggling. Urging her to take a deep breath when she got frustrated. 

Time passed and class ended, the kids rushing out to their parents and babbling. You walk behind them and walk to the desk in the studio office, grabbing papers and handing them to Joel. You were giving him the rundown of fundraising for the studio, and telling him that you needed Sarah's clothing size for therecital costume. You smiled as you saw him struggling to keep a note of all the important things, but he wanted to know and stay involved as much as possible for his kid. He smirked and held the papers up. “You got it.” He then found Sarah, and you waved as they walked out the door with the other families. 

After the studio was cleared for the evening, you collected your bag and water bottle. Then you walked out of the building. 

Unlocking your apartment door you took a deep breath. Not even wanting to think about dinner, you plopped yourself on your couch. Then dialed the nearby Chinese place a few blocks from your place on your phone. Deciding to order takeout, seems like the easiest choice, you think to yourself. 

While waiting for your food you got up and prepared a side salad for yourself in your tiny kitchen. Then rested your elbow on the counter and scrolled through your missed calls. A few being from your mom, shit. You then decide to call her tomorrow, it has already been a long day. Along with wanting to start choreographing the recital dance, even though it would be months away, you still wanted to feel on top of things.

A few hours then passed, and the discarded chinese boxes were still on your coffee table. You had your laptop laying on your chest as you focused. Then looking at the time you groan, placing your laptop at the edge of the couch. You then sit up and stretch, and get ready for bed.

You are now snuggled into the soft duvet and your head resting on your pillow. Your mind wandering in your pool of thoughts as you try to sleep. You cannot help but keep thinking of Joel. Something about him made you want to learn more.  

A few days pass and you are currently in between classes, so you took a break in your office. Typing away on your computer, replying to emails sent by parents, and filling out papers for Miss Beatrice, who owns the studio. 

Completely focused on your work, there was a light knock on your door. Startled out of your trance, you looked up. It was Joel, who had a nervous smile as he held his hand up to wave. 

“Hope m’ not interruptin’ anything?” he says cautiously. You shake your head, close your laptop and tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Not at all, Mr. Miller. Come on in.” you give a warm smile and gesture for him to sit down at the seat across from your desk. He does so and sits himself down and clears his throat. “None of that, please…Mr. Miller is my father.” he teases. You smile and begin talking again, “Alright then, Joel. What can I help you with?” you smile.  

He shifts in his seat and rubs the back of his neck. You could tell something was bothering him. “Sarah has been talkin’ about starting dance lessons for a while now, and I’m excited I was able to get her here.” You nod, and Joel continues talking. “The problem is that I had no idea how much this would cost..” he slightly chuckles. 

“Joel, we are very flexible with our parents. We even offer all sorts of different sorts of payment plans.” you explain. He slowly nods and gives a sigh of relief. “And I will do everything I can to help you guys...Sarah is a really bright student. I would hate to see her leave.” you say sincerely. 

“Thank you very much.” he says. “Really means a lot..what you say ‘bout Sarah.” he says proudly. There's a beat of silence between Joel and you. Next thing you know you’re looking in your desk drawer for a sticky note. Scribbling down your number on the piece of paper and slide it across to him. He takes it and examines it. “What’s this?” he drawls. 

“It’s my phone number, in case you have any more questions for me.” you smile. He nods with a smile. “I really wish I could help you more today, but I have another class that starts in a few minutes.” you say. Joel then stands up and puts the piece of paper in his back jean pocket. He then follows you out of the office, and you open the door. Noticing him gently placing his hand on the small of your back. 

After you both say final goodbyes, you take a deep breath. Watching him exit the building you turn around. It's okay, It's okay, you give all the parents your phone number. You think to yourself. Your mind was churning. You enter the studio and begin warming up and greet the students as they walk in.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any tips on writing ballet dance scenes? I got an idea for a story based around ballet, but I never did any ballet in my life. I figured research is important, but I might need more than that. For example, I recall having a hard time describing a non-ballet dance scene in a story and had to get help with it, which is probably going to be an issue considering that ballet is pretty complex from what I heard.

Writing Ballet Scenes without Ballet Knowledge

Research is definitely required here, but rather than simply reading about ballet, I would suggest going to YouTube and watching some "ballet for beginners" video. If you're able to participate with what the videos instruct in any way, that's all the better! Even if you can't or don't want to, just watching the videos will help you build an understanding of ballet from the ground up. As your knowledge builds you can expand out to more specific things you need to learn. Then, you can finally branch into learning more specific terminology for moves, elements, etc. You will also want to watch some actual ballet performances, and you can find some to stand in as models for the ones you want to write about, which not only gives you specific things to learn about (specific movements, specific terminology, etc.) but also helps you with what to actually describe.

Another aspect will simply be the sensory description of describing the actual ballet movements and scenes, including the movement, the costume, the stage decor (if any), etc.

I do have a posts on Describing Music and Describing Dance. Also, with the sensory description, remember you're thinking about what can be seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and felt/touched.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

[sebflix]

Arabesque; sebastian sallow | pt1 (m)

pairing: sebastian sallow x ballet!reader(f)

genre: strangers (to friends??) to lovers, eventual smut

warnings: all characters are 18+! no other warnings in part 1, unless you count a lot of romantic tension, eventual smut in pt2

word count: 2.8k

chapter synopsis: After losing a duel to the new student, Sebastian becomes curious about who you are and does the most logical thing to learn more about you—he follows you right into the Room of Requirement.

other notes: the music i think of when she is dancing is black swan (orchestral ver) by bts, but you can think of whatever song you want!

links: ao3, masterlist

[read on ao3]

01 | 02 | 03

When Sebastian said he would give you a 'proper Hogwarts welcome,' he didn't expect to be the first one on the floor.

As the new student at Hogwarts, you were just instructed by Professor Hecat to duel in class with Sebastian. He thought he'd cut you some slack and go easy on you, but he was taken aback by the first Levioso you casted. Intrigued by your mysterious aura, which had captivated him ever since you walked in late to the Sorting Ceremony the other day, he couldn't help but be mesmerised by you.

With the other students cheering for you, Sebastian picked himself up from the floor, brushing the dust off his robe. He glanced at you, seeing a triumphant grin on your face as the others congratulated you for winning.

As the class began filing out, he approached you. "Hm, not bad for a beginner. You give as good as you get," he chuckled, taking one last look at you before heading toward the door.

With a rush of adrenaline and a spark of excitement, you felt a sense of accomplishment bubbling up inside. You turned around, smirking. "I enjoyed that; it was certainly good practice."

His pride was slightly wounded but his interest piqued, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a growing admiration for your skill. "Practice? I was going easy on you."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Sure you were. Let's see what happens next time when you're not holding back." You give him one last look before exiting the classroom, leaving him standing there, intrigued and eager to know more about you.

Ever since that duel, you had been on Sebastian's mind constantly. He notices you everywhere—in hallways, classrooms, the common room—always in a hurry, darting around corners to get somewhere. This only heightened his curiosity, making him eager to discover what kept you so busy.

One night, while he was coming back from the Duelling Club in the dungeons, he spotted you again, darting around a corner. He stopped in his tracks, his mind urging him to follow you. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to follow you, intrigued by your mysterious behaviour. Keeping a safe distance, he moved silently, determined to uncover the secret that kept you perpetually on the move.

You had just come back from meeting your new friend Natsai and was eager to return to your Room of Requirement as soon as possible. As much as you enjoyed being the new student, the constant socialising with so many people in such a short time was exhausting. You longed for a moment of peace to yourself, away from the bustling life of Hogwarts.

Unaware of Sebastian trailing behind, you hurried through the corridors, your mind set on the sanctuary of your private space. As you reached your destination, you faced the wall, focusing your mind. Responding to your intent, the wall shifted, and the door appeared, allowing you to swiftly slip inside.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise, his curiosity piqued as he wondered what he had just witnessed. In all his years at Hogwarts, he had never come across this door—an enigmatic entrance that seemed to materialise out of thin air, hidden within the labyrinthine walls of the castle. Seeing you scurrying inside, he hesitated for a moment before making a split-second decision. As the doors began to close, he acted on impulse, squeezing between them and entering the room, driven by an insatiable desire to unravel the mystery that surrounded you.

What are you doing?! his mind screamed at him, a voice of reason cautioning against the impulsive act of following a girl into an unknown room. But his curiosity always got the better of him. The thrill of the unknown beckoned him forward, igniting a sense of adventure that he couldn't resist.

The first thing he saw when he walked in was a small dim-lit hallway, the walls covered in shelves full of clutter and plants. With each step he took into the hallway, he felt a rush of excitement mingled with apprehension, unsure of what he would discover.

Music filled his ears suddenly. As the first notes filled the air, Sebastian's senses were instantly captivated, the sudden onset of music causing him to startle slightly. The rich strains of the violin and piano resonated with a profound depth, their heavy tempo commanding attention and stirring something deep within him. Each note seemed to carry a weighty significance, weaving a tapestry of sound that enveloped him in its mesmerising embrace. Enveloped in the enchanting sound, Sebastian found himself spellbound, unable to resist the alluring pull of the music that seemed to echo the depths of his own soul. As he walked further into the hallway and into the opening of the room, his eyes could not believe what he saw.

The room was unlike anything Sebastian had ever seen. It resembled a grand study, with towering bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with ancient tomes and volumes of knowledge. Soft candlelight flickered across the room, casting warm shadows that danced along the shelves. On either side of the room, elegant staircases led up to an opening bordered with branches of trees, their delicate silhouettes adding a touch of whimsy to the space. At the top of the staircases, a majestic clock rested, its hands ticking away the moments in quiet reverence.

As Sebastian's gaze wandered, he noticed the walls adorned with a myriad of artworks, each one a masterpiece in its own right. Paintings of landscapes and portraits of long-forgotten figures adorned the walls, their details vibrant. The pillars that rose to support the ceiling were not mere structural elements but works of art in themselves, with intricate detailing that spoke of the craftsmanship of generations past. Each curve and flourish seemed to tell a story, adding to the room's sense of grandeur. And above it all, the glass dome on the ceiling soared majestically, offering a breathtaking view of the night sky. Moonlight streamed through the translucent surface, bathing the room in a gentle, silvery glow that lent an air of enchantment to the already magical atmosphere. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale, a sanctuary where dreams and imagination knew no bounds.

For a moment, Sebastian felt as though he had been transported to another world entirely, one where time seemed to stand still and all worries faded away in the face of such breathtaking beauty. But then he saw you.

You were dressed in a ballet ensemble, a vision of ethereal beauty that seemed to transcend time itself. Your tightly laced bodice was adorned with delicate lace trimmings and intricate embroidery, while the shade of the lightest pink adorned the layers of your voluminous skirt, casting a soft and romantic glow upon your form. The tiny pearls and crystals on your tutu caught the moonlight, scattering glimmers of shimmering light as you danced gracefully in the middle of the spacious room, your movements fluid and mesmerising.

In that moment, you seemed to embody the very essence of beauty and grace, your passion for dance evident in every step and pirouette. As you twirled and spun across the floor, the room itself seemed to come alive, the music of your movements filling the air with an enchanting melody that spoke of love and longing. The violins, with their hauntingly sweet notes, wove a delicate tapestry of sound that harmonised perfectly with your movements, evoking a sense of yearning and emotion that left Sebastian utterly captivated.

"Merlin..." he watched in awe, hiding behind the staircase, you not having noticed him yet. He could not believe what he was seeing. Is this the reason for your hurrying out after class? You were hiding this talent? As his eyes roamed over your form, taking in every detail, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. From the tips of your pointed toes to the graceful curve of your legs, each movement you made seemed to exude a captivating elegance that held him spellbound. And as his gaze finally met your face, he found himself utterly entranced by the beauty that radiated from within you.

You. You were the most breathtaking beauty he had ever seen.

"Pirouette, arabesque, releve..." you softly murmured the names of the steps under your breath as you danced alone in the Room of Requirement. This room was your sanctuary, a place where you could escape the pressures and expectations of the outside world. Here, surrounded by the soft glow of moonlight and the gentle rustle of your skirts, you felt free to express yourself fully, without fear of judgment or scrutiny. It was a space where you could be vulnerable, where you could let go of your inhibitions and lose yourself in the beauty of ballet.

With each whispered word, your executed the movements with precision and grace, your body moving with fluidity and poise. Each step flowed seamlessly into the next, guided by the rhythm of the music and the silent reminders that echoed in her mind. As the final notes of the music faded away, you brought the dance to a graceful conclusion, your chest gently rising and falling to catch your breath. With a sense of contentment washing over, you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of the dance.

Suddenly, you felt a tingle down your spine, a sense of someone else's presence in the room. Swiftly grabbing your wand from the table next to you, you whirled around and pointed it toward the source of your disturbance. "Levios-"

Sebastian shot up from his position behind the staircase and into her view, hands shot up in a gesture of surrender. "W-wait! Hold on now!" he stammered, his voice tinged with urgency.

With the wand still pointed in Sebastian's direction, your eyes widened in surprise. 'Sebastian?' you said in disbelief. You did not expect anyone to be in this room, let alone the boy from her classes. Your eyes narrowed as you assessed the situation. Your heart raced with a mix of adrenaline and caution, unsure of whether to trust the unexpected visitor.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" you demanded, your tone laced with suspicion.

Sebastian swallowed nervously, his gaze shifting under your scrutinising stare. "I, uh, I was just...exploring," he replied lamely, his attempt at nonchalance failing miserably.

"Exploring?" you echoed incredulously, your grip on your wand tightening. "Alone? At this hour? How did you even get in here?"

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under your intense look, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I, uh, may have been following you," he confessed sheepishly. "I saw you slip in here earlier, and...well, I guess I got curious."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his confession, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity crossing your features. A wave of unease washed over you, settling like a heavyweight in the pit of your stomach. The thought of him trailing after you, possibly witnessing your most vulnerable and raw expression of your innermost self through dance sent a chill racing down your spine.

"Following me?" you repeated. "Why on earth would you do that?"

"I've been seeing you around a lot lately, and...well, I wanted to know where you disappear to all the time," he admitted as he met your gaze.

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at Sebastian's confession. "You've been following me?" you repeated incredulously, a small smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "That's a bit...stalkerish, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess it does sound kind of creepy," Sebastian chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You shook your head in amusement, your grip on your wand loosening slightly. "Well, you certainly have a knack for getting yourself into trouble," you remarked dryly, a playful glint in your eyes.

Since your arrival at Hogwarts, whispers about Sebastian have been a constant presence, from rumours about his troubled family to tales of him supposedly sneaking into the restricted section of the library under the cover of night. He's become somewhat of a school-wide fascination, and even you couldn't deny your own curiosity about him, especially after your duel in class. The intensity of his gaze afterwards left a lasting impression, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but know more about him, even asking Natsai, who warned you with a shake of her head to steer clear of his apparent troubles.

You lower your wand, "Lucky for you, I'm not in the mood to turn you into a toad today. As long as you don't tell a soul about this place."

Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. "Trust me, my lips are sealed," he assured you, his tone earnest as he watched you lower your wand. "Your secret's safe with me."

You offered him a skeptical look, but a small smile played at the corners of your lips. "I'll hold you to that," you replied, the hint of a challenge in your voice as you set the wand back on the table. "Otherwise, I might just have to challenge you to another duel."

"Ah, I'll have to watch my back then," he chuckled. A silence settled between you, an unknown tension in the air. You both stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

"Soooo, what exactly is this place?" he asked, casting a curious glance around.

You paused, considering how much to reveal. "It's called the Room of Requirement," you explained cautiously, "It appears when you need it the most, taking on whatever form you require at that moment."

Sebastian's eyes widened in amazement. "That's incredible," He walks deeper into the room, spotting the potting tables full of dittany and knotgrass. "How did you even find it?"

You follow him with your eyes, finding his curiosity amusing. "It's a bit of a long story," you admitted with a shrug, not wanting to divulge too much.

He caught onto your tone, not prying further. He empathised with your sentiment, having a similar attachment to the Undercroft where Ominis had invited him. It was his sanctuary, a place of safety and solace that he preferred to keep to himself.

As he looked around, Sebastian's curiosity eventually led him to the one question you were dreading. "So, what do you do in here?" he asked, his gaze lingering on you expectantly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Ballet was a deeply personal part of your life, a connection to your past that you held dear. But it was also a secret, something you kept hidden from the rest of the world.

"I, uh, I practice," you replied evasively. "Just some spells and things."

"Spells, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "That is definitely not what I saw. Come on, you can tell me."

You felt a pang of uncertainty gnawing at you as you struggled to find the right words. "It's... complicated," you began hesitantly, "Something I've been doing for a long time."

Sebastian's expression softened, sensing your reluctance to share. He takes a few steps towards you. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you gently, his voice warm and understanding. "You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable."

You offered him a grateful smile, relieved by his understanding. "Thanks, Sebastian," you said sincerely, a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I appreciate that."

Another silence enveloped you both again. Time seemed to stand still as your eyes locked, each searching the other's gaze for answers to unspoken questions. You yearned to understand him better, yet hesitated, uncertain of the emotions stirring within. Unbeknownst to you, he shared similar sentiments. Despite everything happening with his sister Anne and his recent practice with dark magic, he couldn't resist being drawn to you.

A charged tension crackled in the air, palpable and electric. Your breath hitched, pulse quickening from the intensity of his gaze on your features.

"I-I should be heading back to my dorm," you stammered, breaking the silence and avoiding his eyes.

"Yes, you're right," he replied, a slight cough punctuating his words. "It's getting late."

Sebastian lingered for a moment longer, his eyes sweeping over the room one last time before he turned to leave. As he walked towards the door, a sense of reluctance washed over him, a feeling that he couldn't quite shake off.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

"Goodnight," you replied, your voice equally soft.

And with that, Sebastian slipped out of the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Left alone once more, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing lingering in the air, a silent reminder of the bond that had begun to blossom between you.

Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic after a long time! I used to write years ago but lost the passion but found it again after joining the Hogwarts Legacy fandom. I hope you all enjoy reading:) There will be a part 2 but dunno if I should go the smut route or not, let me know what you want!!

[miss-mollys-ballet-blog]

My sister-in-law is starting ballet and she wants me to give her one or two classes before her first class so she doesn't look like she doesn't know anything at all, so naturally I agreed. I was excited that she's starting ballet and love talking about it, but I never expected I would have SO MUCH FUN making combinations. I've come up with so many over the past day or so and can't stop lol. Picking the music is so fun, I'm using music I love dancing to, and then creating a combination to the music is just amazing. Some might be a bit....challenging for a beginner beginner, but I think that's a good thing!

This is the music and what combination each piece goes with!

Warm Up: Chopin's Nocturne Op. 9 no. 2 (obviously)

Plies: The Shire theme from Lord of the Rings

Tendu and degage share music: Faure's Pelleas and Melisandre Sicilienne

Rond de jambes: Ashokan Farewell

Frappes: Solor's variation

Adagio at barre: Gadfly Romance

Grand Battements: Habanera from Carmen

Tendu in center: Tchaikovsky's piano concerto number 1 (duh)

Balances/Waltz: Swan Lake waltz

Petit allegro: Lord of the Rings surprise

Reverance: Nikiya's death

[chiscribbs]

Asking some writers/artists I follow:

Is there anything in your fic/comic that you as the author know about, but won't end up in the actual story?

Hmmmm... I have a lot of little moments from the Grown Apart cast's individual upbringings that are kinda floating around in my head, but I have no idea yet if they'll make it into the comics. So, I'm not sure if those count. There are a few little canon details that I haven't figured out how to include in the comics just yet, though. Such as:

Donnie speaking in a posh English accent...but only some of the time - mostly when he's not with his family or if he's trying to impress someone. Reason being: Donnie doesn't naturally talk like Big Mama (though he may have adopted a tinge of her inflection with certain words or vowels), it's mostly something he puts on intentionally to sound more...closely related to her? It's become a habit, and he doesn't always realize when he's doing it anymore, unless the others point it out. But it disappears the moment he gets too worked-up/excited about something.

Because Mikey spent so much time looking for ways to occupy himself while Leo was off causing mischief with his friends, he has a wide range of obscure talents & skills, many of which I'll probably never end up showing in canon because they're not particularly relevant to the plot. For example: - Guitar playing - Card stacking - Cup stacking - Solving a rubix cube in under 3 minutes - Painting/writing with his toes - Ballet (beginner level, but he's working on it) - Making music with water glasses - Yo-yo tricks - Acrobatics - Silk flying - The ancient art of the Japanese tea ceremony - Crochet - Playing Chopsticks on his shell (with chopsticks)

That's all I've got off the top of my head right now. Unless you're referring to things like "ideas that were originally going to be part of the canon, but got scrapped somewhere along the way." There's a LOT of those, lol. Some of which I might still end up sharing at some point, because I illustrated a few of them early on when I was doing story beats, and I like the illustrations despite them not being accurate anymore.

Others, I don't necessarily want to expose just yet, because they might still end up getting used somewhere? Maybe in this story or maybe in a different one entirely, who knows. I like to keep "scrapped" ideas in my back pocket just in case I decide to come back to them later down the line.

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Modern Thranduil x anxious reader

Caged birds with broken wings

Chapter 1:

A Dance with tardiness

Synopsis: An antisocial, anxious writer in her early 20s attends a ballet class under the teachings of a mysterious, reserved, austere dance instructor. They form an unlikely within their solace and past.

Warnings: mentions of blood

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

A/n: This fanfic doesn't follow along the lines of the hobbit but rather a loosely spin-off au that only uses some characters. I do not own the right to them as they are Tolkien's characters and I respect his creation. (even if the characters might be ooc). Feel free to comment, reblog and like. Let me know if you'd like a chapter 2.

I tended to daydream often, more so when I listened to the music. The tune and tone of the song that played one after the other sent me to the realms I immersed; typically, anyone would daydream into another realm far better than their own: a princess, pirate, elf, fae—anything. My imagination is my realm of comfort, a sealed bubble that I can freely roam however I wish. Unfortunately, within fantasy, we must face reality. Within my reality, I’m not much of an importance, at least not one to have a whole written memoir about. I’m more of one of those faces you’d pass by in the street or grocery store, not giving any second thought to. Though I’d prefer it that way, I’m not much of a talker but rather a writer; I’m more fluent in my words than my speaking. Every attempt I’ve made, I’ve stumbled or become still; my chest would rise heavily and lower deeply. I always asked how people can do it, how they can speak—talk—communicate like it’s a piece of cake. I’d rather shroud myself in my isolation than speak to another living being.

At my desk, in my somewhat clean apartment, I was planning my next latest story in a saga of 3 books. So far, I’ve managed to get in contact with a publishing company via email who were willing to get behind the idea of a feature-length young-adult romance novel, a romance novel about a pirate king and a fae queen. The first chapter was still relatively underdeveloped, yet I’m willing to spend an entire day finishing it. I had only five months to publish the entire chapters. I’ve been a fantasy fan ever since I was a child. To me, fantasy is what the word impossible turned into possible. For ten years, I’ve been writing, and never once has it stripped me of what I truly adore.  

Whilst my fingers pressed against the keys on my keyboard, I received a text message on my phone from the side of my desk surrounded by papers. It was from my mom, who was wondering about my well-being. As always, I respond with the usual ‘everything’s going well—I’m pumping out new chapters for my new novel, ‘A Puncture in Time’, you know—the one with pirates and fantasy, new chapters soon to come ;)’. Even though she’s smart enough to see through my little façade, she writes back, ‘Hey listen, I know it’s hard right now, but I can assure you, things will get better; it just takes practice; I know you’ll meet someone you’ll find it easy to talk to’. I sighed heavily; within her words, I have faith, yet doubt. Should I choose to believe her, bite the bullet and try to speak up or wallow in a lie that can send her mind at ease? Before I wrote back, she sent a post with a link. I furrowed my brows as curiosity swelled my thoughts, my finger tapped the link. It was an ad. An ad for ballet classes. I thought it odd why she would send me something like this: I’m no dancer; I’m certainly no ballerina.

I replied with a question mark ‘?’.

A message bubble popped up: ‘…’ I awaited her reply.

As she was still typing, I took the liberty of glancing through the ad quickly. The tab loaded with a cursive font in bold ‘Les danseuses se réjouissent’. Scrolling past the stock images of ballet dancers, I came across a small section of different levels offered: beginner, Intermediate, and advanced. My mind raced with doubt; I had no experience in ballet, at least not since I was a young child. I wondered to myself, ‘Do I really want to take this? After all, I’m not exactly one for groups’. However, my mind was put at ease when my eyes came across an option for ‘one-on-one private lessons’. At least, I wouldn’t be with people who were far more experienced—let alone a group; the thought of many eyes staring at me—would have my heart sink. As I clicked the option, I was astounded; there were no reviews, pictures, or even a description of the instructor. I was sceptical. Surely, if you were to teach a class, you’d have at least a brief introduction of yourself. Even as an author, I have a concise introduction in my publications. I lightly sighed, weighing my options; on the one hand, it’ll please my mom, get me out of the apartment, and keep me fit; on the other hand, despite being private, I’m meeting someone I don’t know. Who knows what this person’s intention is, even if it’s for a class.

Finally, I heard a ‘ding’ as she replied, ‘Please try, at least for me; it’ll be good for your health, and you once mentioned you wanted to be a ballerina. I know the world isn’t always what we want it to be, but I know you can make it shine; I’ve seen it in your novels; give this a chance, give them a chance, to show them how you can shine, because I know you’ll be the brightest star there :).’

My eyes softened as I read every word; I couldn’t deny she had a way of getting through to me. She was always a caring woman, along with my dad. They were the only two people I could speak to without pressure or the weight in my chest.

I pressed back onto the tab with the private lessons. I clicked to see the booking dates—there’s an option to book for tomorrow, and the price is only $45 per lesson. For the price, it wasn’t too bad; yet still expensive. I filled in the details required to send the booking through, yet my finger hovered as I was about to press ‘confirm’. My mind came to a tussle of thoughts and hesitations; this would be the first time, in a long time, that I would speak face-to-face with an actual living being. However, I recalled Mom's words, ‘Because I know you’ll be the brightest star there’.

Breathing in—I pushed it, I pressed confirm.

I did it. I’m going to attend a ballet class. My head slowly lowers onto my desk, surrounded by papers. My hair dangled over my forehead. The adrenaline that reached the height of my mentality came crashing down. It’s like going on a rollercoaster you didn’t ask for, coming from the highest point of the rail down to the pit below. I start to feel light-headed. I want to sleep. I want to stay here. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. What if this doesn’t work out?

I rose slowly from my desk chair, picked up my phone, and texted, ‘I’ve booked lessons for tomorrow…I hope you're right about this.’

I watched as once more, awaiting her response, ‘…’

‘Oh, I’m so happy, you’ll fit right in, I know it :)’ she texted.

I didn’t respond. She’s pleased, at least.

I decided to call it a night; I’ve had enough pressure for one day. I logged off, cleaned the papers on my desk, pushed them into a neat-ish pile and headed to the bathroom to shower. As I opened the door, I went inside to set down my pyjamas by the medium-small bathtub’s acrylic side rim. My bathroom isn’t big exactly, but neither is it small. It’s moderate for what it was: a bathtub, shower, toilet, sink, and a medium-sized mirror in the same room. It’s not precisely palace material, but it helps soothe my thoughts. I held my hand out as I turned on the shower, feeling the trickling water against my skin. The temperature quickly changed from cold to warm in just five seconds. Once I was satisfied, I stripped bare, sliding my long-sleeved green shirt off and sliding my darker tracksuit pants. I tossed my unmentionables inside the bathtub. I stepped inside the shower, allowing the warm water to run freely down my skin. I shut the shower enough to have a slit entrance still. I grabbed the soap, rubbing it over my skin, arms, legs, and body. I splashed water on my face as the water rinsed the suds away. I hovered my hands in my eyesight, glancing closer at my fingers. I could see the redness and patches from where I’d picked my skin; it’s a habit I developed since childhood. The habit would annoy Mom, often whispering or saying straight, “Stop picking”, even touching my hand to remind me. Unfortunately, this habit hasn’t subsided; I sometimes even look at my skin with little care, picking the cuticles or rough patches.

Once I finished scrubbing my body with soap, I turned off the water and opened the shower door to step onto the bathmat. I grabbed a towel from the single towel rack located beside the shower. I dried my body, running the towel over my skin. As I wrapped the towel around my body, I glanced at my face in the mirror above the sink. They say eyes are the most expressive in emotion. My narrowed, pinkish lips thinned.

I snapped out of my gaze, continuing to slip on my long blue pants decorated in owl prints, then, the next, a long-sleeve top with the basic purple on them topped with a giant owl embroidered in the front area. Owls have always resonated with me, whether it's their symbolism or captivating beauty. I placed the towel on the side of the bathtub’s rim. I picked up my previous clothes and took it into my bedroom. My bedroom was also medium sized, having a queen-sized bed and an oaken cupboard with a mirrored wardrobe. My room was decorated with tiny figurines I’d collect overtime, albeit from movies I’ve fancied or books. I placed the clothes in my hamper basket behind my door. My body relaxed when my eyes lingered toward my bed, the messy, deep blue sheets draped to the left side. I dismissed the thought of tucking them in for the time being, only plonking myself onto the mattress and wrapping myself within the single cotton sheets and doona drifting off.

Dreaming is the easy part, letting what visions came to my mind run wild. Sometimes, it’s suitable for inspiration, but other times, it's nightmares. The imagination is still enchanting, although, this time, it was peculiar. I was in a birdcage decorated with gold; the entrance was bolted shut; my hands gripped the golden rods holding the cage together. I tried to scream but to no avail. I tried to shake the cage, yet I was too small to provoke movement. My body lowered, feeling the coldness of the metal plate below. I had nothing but rosy ribbon pointe shoes. I suddenly felt myself, in no control, rise as though my limbs were attached to strings. I started to dance, my arms and legs stretching to fit the perfect movements. Eventually, I stopped mid-movement, standing on one leg while extending the other behind. I couldn’t move; I was frozen in place. I could do nothing but shut my eyes.

Suddenly, I woke up; my eyes fluttered open from the confusion I had just endured. Rising from the bed, I pondered for a few seconds. ‘What on earth did I dream about?’. My hands pressed against my face, trying to comprehend my dream and reality. I pulled the sheets off me and got up for the morning. A typical morning for me results in the usual routine: dressing, brushing my teeth and hair, and then looking forward to what the day offers me. Until I remembered that I had booked that class. I typically picked out green tracksuit pants with a white singlet, hoping that would suffice. I picked up my purse and headed out the door to my car. I entered inside, placing my purse in the front seat as I turned on the white car. I noticed outside that it started to snow. Snow is beautiful, especially the little snowflakes that fall into your hand and dissolve upon touch.

As the car started, I prepared to drive to wherever it was that awaited me. The location was further from where I lived; it must’ve been at least twenty-eight minutes. The drive wasn’t particularly bothersome for me; when you live in New York, you get used to the traffic.

As I drove, the snowflakes emerged in more significant numbers. Eventually, I found parking just next to the side of a café. I wasn’t aware if it was for the staff or guests. However, it seemed empty with only a few cars, so—if I get called out on it, I’ll move my car. No one seemed to notice, so I assumed I was okay. I grabbed my black parker from the back and zipped it up. Exiting the car, I stopped to admire the snow falling for a few seconds. It was January 4th, so the snow season was still here. My hands shoved in my pockets, beginning to wander toward where I needed to be. According to the ad, it was building ‘52’; it was vague, I know, but it was the details given. I trudged through the snow, seeing building after building, until I came across something with the number ‘52’, where I needed to be. My hand gripped the gold-looking handle attached to the glass door. As I entered, I came upon a staircase; I took one step after the other. I quickly glanced at the ad to see what floor it was on, yet to no avail. Was it the ‘4th floor? Oh god, oh god, please don’t resort to me asking someone. My fingers started to twitch; I raised one of my fingertips to my lips, feeling the rough patches. My thumb started scraping off the first layer, and small blood trickles formed. I ran my fingers over my lips again as I trailed up the stairs. I could feel my chest becoming heavier, my mind swell with thoughts of self-doubt. Suddenly, the anxiety soon started to subside as my eyes saw the sight of a door. My fingers hesitantly wrapped around the door handle; I took one breath in, trying to be brave. I pushed it open—only for my worst nightmare to come to life.

My breathing became heavier, my heart sank, my eyelids widened, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. There was a group of ballerinas staring directly at me. There must’ve been at least four? Five? Looking my way! Their ages varied, going into their late 20s.

The one brunette asked in French “es-tu perdu, cherches quelqu’un”.

I couldn’t concentrate; my mind dwelled with clouded thoughts of judgment. I pressed my finger against my lip, trying to feel the rough patches.

Another asked in English, “My friend asked if you’re searching for someone”.

Quickly, my eyes diverted to the ground, avoiding their gaze. “I-I-, pr-viate, less-on”. I stumbled over my words.

“Lessons? Private lessons?” the girl spoke once more.

I nodded, avoiding eye contact.

As I quickly glanced, a middle-aged woman in her mid-forties stepped closer; I assumed she was the dance teacher. “Are you referring to the private dance lessons advertised? the one taught by Mr. Oropherion?”.

I paused for a moment, trying to gather my words. Mr Oropherion? Is he the teacher I’m with?

“I-Is. This. Right. Floor.” I tried to sound out the right words, but it was impossible. Perhaps my conscience was right; perhaps this was a terrible idea.

The middle-aged woman, confused, pointed toward the direction I needed to go. “you’ll need to head up one more level, then head to your right” Her voice was calm with a hint of soprano.

Still avoiding eye contact, I left, not even saying thank you, focusing on wanting to escape. I closed the door in front and let out a heavy breath. My head lowered to touch the tip of my hands. I wanted to melt in that moment; I wanted nothing more than to return home. However, I reminded myself that I was doing this for Mom. I breathed in once more, looking up at the door; my hands quickly released, and I began to walk quickly, edging further up the stairs. My mind came crashing down, feeling the dreariness wash over me. Feeling tired, I finally, at last, came across the door I needed to be. It was blank, the painted white withering away around the edges. My hand reached the doorknob, feeling the roundness, turning it slightly. I could feel the adrenaline kick in. I was hesitant, but my nerves started to build.

I started to whisper to myself, “Just a general hello, that’s all it takes—

You're doing this for Mom—

Give them a chance to show them how I can shine; give them a chance to see who I am because I’ll be the brightest star there”.

 I breathed in, closing my eyes and opening the door. As I tried to force my eyes open, I was confused. There was no one here. It was an empty space surrounded by mirrors with bar beams attached to them. My eyes scanned the room, yet no one was there. I suppose I should be relieved, maybe the teacher had caught a sickness and decided to ditch the whole class. I wandered further inside; I might as well take a quick peek. I unzipped my black parker with a furry hood, tossed it on the coat hanger and took off my shoes, leaving my white socks on. I stood in the middle of the dance room, embracing the quiet ambience. I looked in the mirrors, reflecting my figure. Was this even what ballerinas wear? Who even is Mr. Oropherion? If he doesn’t show up in the next 15 minutes, I’m heading off and not returning.

Perhaps Aelwynn, the fae queen in my novel, would’ve also been able to dance freely and eloquently in movement. I still wonder what would entrance the pirate king Sarek Salazar. I never pictured him to be devilishly handsome, though. I suppose Aelwynn would be a beauty, but there must be more to it—beauty can only go so far in their bond; what would their obstacles or hardships be? Perhaps the fae queen is somewhat intertwined with difference, the opposite of a fairytale. Aelwynn is fair, kind, beautiful and strong; she meets all the criteria for something otherworldly, yet what if Sarek is her opposite, a beast? No—What if he was average, a gross-looking thing? Pirates are anyway; what if he wasn’t powerful, just an average man with greed—and the dynamic changes, challenging Sarek to choose between the love of his life or treasure?

Or he would choose—

Suddenly, I heard a male voice emit behind me: “You best have a thorough explanation, girl. Do not even think about squandering my precious time.”

My breathing became heavier as I realized someone was speaking to me. I did not turn around; I was afraid to. Instead, I avoided eye contact, too paralysed to move. My head stooped low, and my hands stood to the side. He spoke again, “Clearly, you are here for a reason, are you not? I’ll admit your intrusion is rather fatuous.”

I didn’t glance up; I couldn’t look; I needed time to gather the words to explain. What should I say? Hey, sir, some ballerinas told me to come here, and I fear speaking to people.

“I see you have a mouth; that means you must have a tongue. Go on, speak.” His voice was deep and tranquil, composed yet icy.

I took a deep breath in, slowly turning around. As my legs moved, I slowly gathered the courage to look into the man’s eyes, even if I muttered a ‘hello’. It would be enough. As my head glanced up to meet his, I noticed his appearance.

He—was like—something out of a fairytale. His face was lean and chiselled; his eyes were like ice; his blueish-greyish irises complemented his cold gaze. His hair tressed down like water reaching his chest, light like snow. Whilst his skin was pale in comparison, a fair tone in colour. His attire seemed far more affluent than mine, donning a black trench coat with white underneath. His trousers complimented the darkness of his coat, and his black loafers were polished. I glanced at his right finger, an oval-shaped ring with a diamond glass stone crafted in sterling silver.

“Did you hear me not the first-time girl?” his tone turned stern.

My mouth moved, finally finding the words to speak. “H-hello, I’m Y/n”.

 “y/n?” he muttered.

My eyes glanced downward once more as I slowly nodded.

“So, you have a voice after all, pray, tell. Why are you lingering in my domain?” he said shortly.

I muttered “private lessons”, though my voice sounded like a whisper.

“Ah, so you’ve seen the ad; I suppose you haven’t wasted our time after all, although you are five minutes late; I expect punctuality, to be exactly on time at the hour.” His voice sounded stern once more.

Well gee, it’s not like it’s my first time here, and gotten lost. My eyes still avoided his; I couldn’t look up, so I nodded.

He didn't react when I avoided his gaze, dismissing it. However, he commented on something else: “Your posture is lamentable. Stand up straighter like so.” The tip of his finger lightly touched my chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. I didn’t turn away precisely, yet I still flinched. My breathing slowed down as I once more met his gaze. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.

“You stand there like a bird, wounded by the natures of evil, ignorant of the world’s knowledge, caged and sheltered from the shadows that lurk within the realm. Tell me, little bird, care to spread your wings?” I glanced at myself in the mirror, standing straighter. I could feel the flush in my cheeks, but I didn’t say anything, only breathing slowly.

 His finger pulled away, and he turned his back to me, walking away.

“I expect to see you here tomorrow at exactly the seventh hour of the night”.

“Do not make me regret my decision, or you shall return to the cage from where you came, little bird”, He muttered.

With that, he walked out of the room, distancing himself further and further away. At that moment, I stood in disbelief for a few seconds, trying to understand what had happened. However, once my thoughts were collected, I gathered my things and scurried out of there, wanting nothing more than to enter my car. Once I exited the building, I was hit with the coldness in temperature as it touched my face.

I opened the car door, tossing my things in the back, turning the engine on. I looked back, trying to see the building to the left. As I drove, my thoughts were plagued with astonishment. I didn’t look away; I maintained eye contact for longer than three seconds, and—I managed to speak my name without stumbling over my words. My emotions displayed were as if I’d seen a ghost. Yet—his face—his appearance—it reminded me of snow; I always loved snow; even when I was a child, it was the happiest of my memories. I recall when my parents took me to the park; I was fascinated by the sight of the winter wonderland, my face lighting up with delight and laughing with joy. I always find that snow rekindles the fond memories I have.

Perhaps Mom was right after all; this might be the start of something I’ve never been able to do. Talk.

[balletrax]

Ballet Music

Ballet music is often performed by orchestras, showcasing a diverse array of instruments to create a rich tapestry of sound. From the delicate plucking of strings to the bold crescendos of brass, each musical element contributes to the overall sensory experience, creating an atmosphere that is both enchanting and evocative.

Visit our Website:https://www.balletrax.com/

[tearsinthemist]

Want to learn something new

Want to learn something new in 2022??

Absolute beginner adult ballet series (fabulous beginning teacher)

40 piano lessons for beginners (some of the best explanations for piano I’ve ever seen)

Excellent basic crochet video series

Basic knitting (probably the best how to knit video out there)

Pre-Free Figure Skate Levels A-D guides and practice activities (each video builds up with exercises to the actual moves!)

How to draw character faces video (very funny, surprisingly instructive?)

Another drawing character faces video

Literally my favorite art pose hack

Tutorial of how to make a whole ass Stardew Valley esque farming game in Gamemaker Studios 2??

Introduction to flying small aircrafts

French/Dutch/Fishtail braiding

Playing the guitar for beginners (well paced and excellent instructor)

Playing the violin for beginners (really good practical tips mixed in)

Color theory in digital art (not of the children’s hospital variety)

Retake classes you hated but now there’s zero stakes:

Calculus 1 (full semester class)

Learn basic statistics (free textbook)

Introduction to college physics (free textbook)

Introduction to accounting (free textbook)

Learn a language:

Ancient Greek

Latin

Spanish

German

Japanese (grammar guide) (for dummies)

French

Russian (pretty good cyrillic guide!)

Jan 2, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2023??

Cooking with flavor bootcamp (used what I learned in this a LOT this year)

Beekeeping 101

Learn Interior Design from the British Academy of Interior Design (free to audit course - just choose the free option when you register)

Video on learning to read music that actually helped me??

How to use and sew with a sewing machine

How to ride a bike (listen. some of us never learned, and that's okay.)

How to cornrow-braid hair (I have it on good authority that this video is a godsend for doing your baby niece's black hair)

Making mead at home (I actually did this last summer and it was SO good)

How to garden

Basics of snowboarding (proceed with caution)

How to draw for people who (think they) suck at art (I know this website looks like a 2003 monstrosity, but the tutorials are excellent)

Pixel art for beginners so you can make the next great indie game

Go (back) to school

Introduction to Astronomy (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Principals of Economics (high school course - free textbook w/ practice problems)

Introduction to philosophy (free college course)

Computer science basics (full-semester Harvard course free online)

Learn a language

Japanese for Dummies (link fix from 2022)

Ukrainian

Portuguese (Brazil)

American Sign Language (as somebody who works with Deaf people professionally, I also strongly advise you to read up on Deaf/HoH culture and history!)

Chinese (Mandarin, Simplified)

Quenya (LOTR fantasy elf language)

Dec 26, 2023

Want to learn something new in 2024??

Beginner-oriented video on how to sail

This guy has so many videos on baking different types of bread. SO very many.

Coding in Python - one of the most flexible and adaptable high-level programming languages out there - explained through projects making video games

Learn to swim! (for adult learners. I don’t care if you live in Kansas or Mali or wherever. LEARN TO SWIM.)

Learn how quantum mechanics works. Then read some more about it

[Learn about quantum mechanics again, but in a more advanced engineering/mathematics class. Then read more about the math and physics of it]

Poetry Handbook, by Mary Oliver

Something I learned this year: how to sew a quilt (Here’s a very easy beginning pattern that looks amazing and can be done with pre-cut fabric!)

How to hit the ball in softball

Tutorial video on what is under the hood of most (gas) cars + weird engine sounds and what they mean

Full beginner mechanics technical training, if you want to go more in depth

Playlist on how car engine physics work if you want to go ultra in depth

Lecture series on architecture design through study of buildings

How (American income) taxes & tax law work (choose “audit course” at checkout for free class)

Pickleball for beginners (so you can finally join your neighbor/friend/distant cousin who is always insisting you join their team)

+ Para-Pickleball for beginners (for mobility aid users!)

School is so much more fun when there’s no tests:

American Law - Contracts

Shakespeare’s Life and Plays

Fairy Tales: Meanings, Messages, and Morals

Modern Poetry

World History [Part 1, Part 2]

Learn a language:

Arabic + Resource Guide compiled from Reddit (includes info on different dialects)

Chinese (Cantonese) (audio)

Urdu (frequently recommended course on Reddit) + Resource Guide

Yucatec Maya

[elsalouisa]

"To enter the School of the Imperial Ballet is to enter a convent whence frivolity is banned, and where merciless discipline reigns. Every morning at eight, the solemn tolling of a big bell would put an end to our sleep. We dressed under the stern eyes of a governess, whose duty it was to see that all hands were kept perfectly clean, all nails in good trim, and all teeth carefully washed. When we were ready, we went to prayers, which were sung by one of the older pupils in front of an ikon underneath which a tiny flickering lamp was burning like a little red star. At nine, breakfast—tea, bread and butter—was served, and immediately afterwards the dancing lesson began.

We were all gathered in a big room, very high and well lit. There was no furniture except a few benches, a piano, and enormous mirrors. The walls were decorated with portraits of Russia’s sovereigns. After the small novices’ lesson, the elder, more advanced pupils had their turn, and the beginners withdrew to another room, where they pursued their work. At twelve the bell rang for lunch, after which we were taken out for a walk. Then more exercises until four o’clock, and then dinner. After dinner we enjoyed a period of leisure. Then came fencing lessons, music lessons, and from time to time rehearsals of dances which were to be performed on the stage of the Maryinsky Theatre. When we children had to appear in a ballet, we were taken to the theatre in great, well-closed cars. Supper used to be at eight, and an hour later we were sent to bed. On feast days were were taken to one of the Imperial Theatres: at times to the Theatre Michel, to see French plays performed by the French artists belonging to the Imperial company.

The most exciting days in our well-ordered life were those when the Emperor paid a visit to the school. In those times the imperial family used to mark their interest in the school by frequent visits. And then, to please the Empress, the children would perform a ballet on the school’s little stage. I can remember that one day, when I was a little girl, the Emperor Alexander and the Empress Maria, with other members of the imperial family, came to see one of those performances. At the end of the ballet we were allowed to go into the auditorium. The Czar took my little comrade, Stanislava Belinskaya, in his arms. He was so kind-hearted and unaffected, in all respects a true Russian! At that very instant I burst into tears. Naturally I was asked why I wept. And between two sobs I replied, with tears trickling fast down my cheeks: “I want the Emperor to take me into his arms too!’ Grand Duke Vladimir, in order to comfort me, took me upon his knee. But I was not satisfied, and went on weeping and repeating, “I want the Emperor to kiss me!” The Grand Duke laughed heartily. After the performance, the imperial family would come to the dining-room and have tea with us. We were not in the least embarrassed by their presence. The Emperor and Empress were so kind, so very much like a kind father and mother, that we were quite at ease with them, and altogether content.

Every Sunday my mother came to see me; and I used to spend all my holidays with her. During the summer we always lived in the country. We grew so fond of our little holiday cottage, that even now we have not the heart to give it up in favour of some more comfortable abode".

Anna Pavlova "Pages of my life"

[alinacapellabooks]

OC Musical Audition Tag!

If your WIP (Or WIPs) were musicals, how would you want people to play your OCs? What songs would you want them to sing at the audition? Create a musical audition sheet for your OCs here! I’m starting with mine, as always:

The Tengu And The Angel:

Kunio:

An artist with a big imagination who fled home in the hopes of starting a new life away from his abusive alcoholic mother. Though he puts on a tough, proud front, he carries a lot of hidden trauma from his childhood, but will not admit to it unless pushed to his breaking point. Character aged late teens, role would suit an actor in their late teens, however, actors in their early twenties will also be considered. All actors auditioning for this role must be able to demonstrate a natural-sounding southern British accent. All actors auditioning for this role must be able to patter sing, non patter singers will not be considered. Audition will consist of an individual round first, all actors who pass the individual round will be paired with an actor auditioning for the role of Nathaniel, and will be required to perform a duet for the second round

Audition Song (Individual First Round): Dead Bird by McCafferty or Trees ii by McCafferty

Audition Song (Duet Second Round): Starless Night English Ver by Nami Kichi

Nathaniel:

Kunio’s roommate, best friend, and love interest. A soft-spoken people pleaser who has a hard time standing up for himself, especially against his emotionally abusive ex, Theo. Character aged early twenties, all actors auditioning for this role must also be in their early twenties. All actors auditioning for this role must be able to demonstrate a subtle, natural sounding Somerset accent. Audition will consist of an individual round first, all actors who pass the individual round will be paired with an actor auditioning for the role of Kunio, and will be required to perform a duet for the second round

Audition Song (Individual First Round): Cough it Out by The Front Bottoms or Black Dahlia by Hollywood Undead

Audition Song (Duet Second Round): Starless Night English Ver by Nami Kichi

Night Of The Blue Moon:

Ariel

A shut-in indie game developer who rarely leaves her apartment by day, and Blue Moon, the de-facto leader of the titanic champion duo by night. Cold and stern, Ariel rarely if ever lets her emotions show, though she does have a kind heart and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. Character aged early twenties, all actresses auditioning for the role must also be in their early twenties. All actresses auditioning for this role must be able to perform ballet, especially pointe work, to a professional standard. Non-dancers, or beginner dancers will not be considered. Some knowledge of rhythmic gymnastics, specifically rhythmic ribbon, would be desirable. Audition will consist of an individual round first, all actresses who pass the individual round will be paired with an actress auditioning for the role of Solana, and will be required to perform a duet for the second round

Audition Song (Individual First Round): Ready as I’ll Ever Be from Tangled: The Series or Not Joking by The Front Bottoms

Audition Song (Duet Second Round): Rewrite The Stars from The Greatest Showman

Solana

A popular Vtuber and sex worker by day, and Red Sun, Blue Moon’s sidekick and love interest, by night. Sunny and charismatic, Solana is able to attract the attention of the masses with her bubbly personality, but she secretly hates her job and desperately wishes that she could quit. Character aged mid twenties, all actresses auditioning for this role must be in their mid to late twenties. Some knowledge of parkour would be desirable, however it is not a requirement for the role. Audition will consist of an individual round first, all actresses who pass the individual round will be paired with an actress auditioning for the role of Ariel, and will be required to perform a duet for the second round

Audition Song (Individual First Round): All You Wanna Do from Six or Idol English Ver by LeeandLie

Audition Song (Duet Second Round): Rewrite The Stars from The Greatest Showman

Tagging @the-golden-comet @mauannacreates @mundanemoongirl @wyked-ao3+ open tag!

[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.”