#ballet academy au

[fizzigigsimmer]

Steve’s a beautiful dancer but his shortfalls are stamina and upper body strength.

Billy, teasing Steve because he fumbles his partner lifts every time and Nancy is like a twig. Girl weighs like six pounds, Harrington what gives?

Billy coming up with increasingly annoying pranks, like telling Steve that class has moved to the studio on the other side of campus, or turning up the speed on his treadmill to “build his stamina”.

Steve determined to shut Billy up by lifting his fat ass before the next exam. This leads to multiple instances of them falling all over each other, wrestling in the dorm.

Billy’s roommate is very confused as to why Harrington will periodically burst into their room and try to carry his roommate off like a sack of potatoes. But they seem to be bonding.

[belivinginyourselfistherealmagic]

Akko finally nailing a ballet move!

[toni-peperoni]

This girl right here is going into her ballet rehearsals soon so yeah, I will fullfil the threat and write a ballet AU, in which the VR46 Academy is now a ballet academy, there will be a competition (main goal of course being to out do the Spanish) there will be chaos and entirely too much plot (currently thinking three plotlines and corresponding main ships) and lots and lots of my opinion on ballet and why it is for everyone, not just people who fit the cliché of a ballet dancer

[chansdoll]

황현진 & 한지성 ─── pas de trois

♡ pairing ៸៸ ballet dancer!hyunjin x ballet dancer!jisung x afab!reader ៸៸ genre ៸៸ love triangle, ballet academy au ៸៸ cw ៸៸ none really. just jisung pining and hyunjin being a womanizer. ♡ synopsis ៸៸ in the world of ballet, every step is choreographed—but love never follows the script. what happens when you get accepted into the ballet academy of your dreams? a/n ๑ hi hi i decided to make this multiple parts because it's long as FUCK and i couldn't make you guys read over 10k words per part LMAO. ive been working on this for about two weeks and im STILL writing this story. comment below if you want to be apart of the taglist for this series, there will be smut in the next part ;3 ♡ masterlist

it was a day filled with nerves and anticipation.

today marked your first day at lumière ballet company—the most prestigious and renowned company in the country. you, along with fourteen other dancers, had earned a coveted spot to train, undergo rigorous evaluations, and prove your potential for a place in the company.

getting accepted into lumière ballet company had been your dream for as long as you could remember. now, here you were—far from home, chasing that dream with everything you had, determined to turn it into reality.

the only thing that unsettled you was the distance. your parents had always been supportive, but they hadn’t been thrilled about you leaving. they feared for you—not because they doubted your talent, but because they worried about the heartbreak if things didn’t go as planned. they didn’t want to see your dreams shatter before you even had the chance to live them.

you pushed those thoughts aside. after all, here you were—standing in front of the very place you had dreamed of since childhood.

as you struggled with your bags, pulling them out of the taxi, you heard a voice behind you.

“need some help with those?”

assuming it was just some random person, you rolled your eyes, irritation creeping into your tone. “no.” you tugged at your largest bag and turned around, ready to brush off whoever it was.

but your heart skipped a beat when you saw who was standing there. hwang hyunjin, the star dancer of the company. famous for his flawless technique and striking good looks, he stood before you with platinum blonde buzzed hair, plump lips, piercing dark eyes, and glowing, honey-toned skin.

you fumbled for words, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips. “oh, um…” you couldn’t help but take him in, a little starstruck that he was actually standing there, talking to you.

“‘no?’” he smiled, his eyes scanning you briefly.

“i mean… no, thank you.” you hugged your bag to your chest, politely declining his offer. he nodded, his expression unreadable as he took a step back.

“okay,” he said simply before turning and heading toward the company entrance.

you watched him walk away, a dazed, goofy smile spreading across your face.

you were definitely starstruck. you had seen hyunjin on tv and in performances before. he was undeniably talented, and adored by so many. it took you by surprise that he had even spoken to you, let alone offered to help carry your bags to your dorm.

the arrival at your dorm was quick and seamless, and you were relieved to find that your roommates were nice. yeji had been at the company for a while—she practically grew up there, and her seniority made you a little nervous. the other girl, celeste, was beautiful and kind, though you could tell she had a sharp tongue that might get her into trouble.

as you were walking around the dorms, you ran into yeji’s friend, minho. the two exchanged a friendly hug before she introduced you both.

“this is minho, and minho, these are my roommates—y/n and celeste,” yeji said, gesturing to you both.

minho gave a casual wave, leaning on yeji’s shoulder. “nice to meet you. you two new?” his tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

“yep, we are. that obvious?” you chuckled shyly. he laughed, shaking his head.

“maybe just a little. what are you guys up to, walking around the dorms?”

“i was just showing them around,” yeji explained.

“i see. want to play stakeout with me and felix? we’re keeping an eye out for our third roommate. supposedly, he’s coming from across the country,” minho said, nodding toward his dorm.

yeji looked to you and celeste for approval, waiting for your responses before agreeing.

“sure, we’ll hang for a little,” yeji smiled.

you spent the afternoon lounging around, getting to know minho and felix. the conversation flowed easily, filled with lighthearted jokes and stories. you learned that minho had been at the company for about four years—a fact that surprised you, given how effortlessly he carried himself. felix, on the other hand, was just as new as you and celeste, which brought you a sense of comfort. it was nice knowing you weren’t the only one still finding your footing.

the five of you were sprawled across minho and felix’s beds, laughing and sharing stories, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

in walked a stunningly handsome guy with clear, glowing skin and tousled dark brown hair that framed his sharp jawline. his cheeks had the slightest hint of roundness, giving him a boyish charm, but it was his eyes that truly struck you—warm, expressive, and impossibly friendly. he took in the unfamiliar faces before him, offering a small, hesitant smile as he waved.

“uh�� am i in the right room?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and tugging out his dorm papers.

“you’re jisung?” minho spoke up, looking him over. you could’ve sworn there was a hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“yeah, jisung.” he smiled warmly before setting his bags down next to the empty bed in the corner.

for a moment, minho didn’t respond, as if he had momentarily lost the ability to speak.

“um, i’m felix,” felix stepped in, standing up to shake jisung’s hand. “nice to meet you. that’s minho.” he motioned vaguely toward minho, who managed a small wave.

“nice to meet you too,” jisung replied with a grin, shrugging his duffel bag off his shoulder.

yeji stood up next, introducing herself, and celeste followed. finally, you extended your hand. “i’m y/n,” you said, offering a friendly smile.

jisung’s eyes flickered toward yours, his gaze lingering just a second longer than expected before his lips curled into a soft smile. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” you hesitated before adding, “minho mentioned you’re coming from across the country?”

“yeah,” jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i flew in from la. my girlfriend dumped me for leaving her there.” his expression faltered slightly, the disappointment evident in his tone.

from the corner of your eye, you noticed minho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, subtly relaxing against the bed once more.

felix let out a low whistle. “oof, rough. long-distance is tough, huh?”

jisung shrugged, forcing a small smile. “guess she didn’t think it was worth it. but, honestly, i can’t blame her. i left pretty suddenly when i got accepted here.”

yeji tilted her head. “how did you hear about lumière? i mean, it’s the top ballet company in the country, but la has some incredible programs too.”

jisung sat down on his bed, leaning back on his hands. “i’ve known about lumière since i was a kid. my old instructor used to talk about it all the time—said it was the kind of place that could turn a good dancer into a great one. so, when i saw the audition announcement, i figured i had to at least try.” he glanced around the room. “still can’t believe i actually made it.”

you nodded in understanding. “i know the feeling. this place always felt like an impossible dream, and now we’re actually here.”

minho, finally finding his voice again, smirked. “impossible dream or not, don’t think they’re going to go easy on you. lumière’s training program is brutal. if you survive it, you’ve got a shot at a contract, but only a few of us will actually get hired.”

jisung raised an eyebrow. “only a few?”

yeji sighed, crossing her arms. “yeah. it’s tough. there are fifteen of us in the program, but in the end, they only offer jobs to about five or six. maybe less, depending on the company’s needs.”

celeste groaned, flopping onto felix’s bed. “ugh, way to kill the excitement. let us enjoy the moment before we start panicking.”

felix laughed. “she’s right. we just got here, let’s not stress yet.”

jisung chuckled, shaking his head. “nah, i’d rather know what i’m up against. so, any advice? what’s the secret to surviving lumière?”

minho exchanged a knowing look with yeji before shrugging. “work hard, don’t mess around, and for the love of everything, don’t get on the instructors’ bad side.”

felix raised a playful brow. “sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

minho smirked. “let’s just say… they don’t forget easily.”

you laughed along with the group, but deep down, you felt the weight of their words. this wasn’t just a school—it was a proving ground. and if you wanted to stay, you’d have to give it everything you had.

the next morning, your alarm blared before the sun had fully risen, jolting you awake. a mix of nerves and excitement swirled in your stomach as you hurried to get ready, slipping into your leotard and tights before pulling your hair into a neat bun. this was it—your first official day at lumière ballet company.

by the time you arrived at the studio, the air was buzzing with hushed conversations and the occasional nervous laugh. the room was vast, lined with mirrors and ballet barres, the polished floors gleaming under the bright lights. the other dancers were already stretching, their movements graceful even in casual warm-ups. 

you spotted celeste and jisung near the back, exchanging a few words before he playfully nudged her, making her roll her eyes. yeji and minho were at the front, both exuding an effortless confidence that only came with experience.

you found a spot near the middle, smoothing out your leotard as you took a deep breath. just as you were about to start warming up, the studio doors swung open. the room instantly fell silent.

a group of instructors filed in, their sharp eyes scanning the room with quiet intensity. among them, a tall, distinguished man with graying hair stepped forward. his presence alone commanded respect, and you immediately recognized him—emile laurent, the head of lumière.

but he wasn’t the only notable figure in the room. behind the instructors, a small group of dancers followed, each one standing with an air of effortless poise. among them, your gaze caught on a familiar figure—hyunjin.

he was even more striking up close, his platinum blonde hair glowed under the lights, his black warm-up attire accentuated his lean, sculpted frame. you swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of his presence.

émile cleared his throat, and all attention snapped back to him.

“welcome,” he began, his voice deep and steady. “you stand here today because you have proven yourselves among the most talented young dancers in the country. but talent alone will not secure your place here. over the next several months, you will be tested—physically, mentally, and artistically. some of you will thrive. some of you will falter.” his sharp gaze swept across the room. “only a select few will earn a permanent position within this company.”

the weight of his words settled over the group like a heavy blanket. you tried not to let it shake you, but your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of your tights.

“as you train, you will work with our esteemed instructors, as well as the company’s leading dancers.” émile gestured behind him, and that was when hyunjin stepped forward alongside the others. “these artists represent the highest standard of excellence. watch them. learn from them. and, if you are lucky, perhaps one day, you will dance beside them.”

a murmur rippled through the room, dancers exchanging glances of awe and quiet determination. you were no different—your gaze flickered toward hyunjin once again, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

your breath hitched.

it was brief, just a moment—his dark eyes meeting yours before a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. he tilted his head ever so slightly, as if amused by your reaction. 

you quickly looked away, heat creeping up your neck.

“your training begins now,” émile’s voice snapped your attention back. “we will push you. and if you survive, you may just earn the right to call yourselves dancers of lumière.” murmurs began to be heard, but before you could break to hide in your thoughts, he spoke up again.

“one more thing, we have the company gala next week, we invite our advanced students, such as yourselves, to attend the performance and help with the party afterwards. i expect to see you all there.”

with that, the instructors began splitting the group up, but your thoughts remained elsewhere.

“i hope he didn’t think that was inspirational,” you heard a voice behind you.

you turned, seeing jisung leaning against a barre, arms crossed over his chest with an amused glint in his eyes.

you let out a breathy chuckle, still trying to shake off the weight of émile’s speech. “yeah, if the goal was to make us all fear for our lives, then mission accomplished.”

he smirked, pushing off the barre and stretching his arms over his head. “honestly, i think that’s the point. they want to weed out the ones who can’t handle the pressure.” he glanced around the room, where some dancers were already practicing their footwork, while others whispered amongst themselves, their nerves palpable. “some people thrive under that kind of intensity. others…” he trailed off, watching a girl in the corner shakily adjusting her pointe shoes.

you hummed in agreement, then glanced at him. “and what about you? are you one of those people who thrive?”

jisung shrugged, a lazy smile playing at his lips. “i guess we’ll find out.”

his confidence was subtle—not the overbearing, showy kind, but the kind that felt steady, reassuring. there was something about the way he carried himself that made you feel at ease, as if no matter how difficult things got, he would take it in stride.

you exhaled, shaking your head. “i get that they want to push us, but still… i was kind of hoping for at least one encouraging word.”

he chuckled. “guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

you turned to him with a teasing smile. “oh? and what words of wisdom do you have to offer?”

he pretended to think, lips pursing in exaggerated contemplation. “how about… ‘don’t pass out on your first day’?”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “wow. so profound.”

“i try,” he said with a grin, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

you gradually became acquainted with a few other girls in the class, aside from celeste and yeji. yeji, being well-connected within the company, had a couple of close friends she primarily stuck with—yuqi and lia, both senior dancers who carried themselves with the kind of effortless confidence that came from years of experience. it didn’t take long to realize that they seemed to know everything about everyone, from which instructors were the toughest to which dancers were secretly dating.

sensing an opportunity to learn the ins and outs of the company, you made an effort to spend more time around them. their presence, along with celeste’s, gave you a sense of comfort amid the overwhelming newness of it all.

with their guidance, you managed to survive your first class. the session focused mainly on warm-ups and refining positioning, easing you into the company’s expectations without immediately throwing you into the deep end. you concentrated on every movement, working to ensure your form was correct, and though you were nervous at first, it quickly became second nature.

oddly enough, time seemed to slip away faster than you anticipated. what started as a nerve-wracking first class soon became a blur of controlled movements, stretching, and quiet concentration. by the time the session ended, you were left feeling relieved.

as class ended, you fell into step with the girls, chatting idly as you made your way toward the commons. the conversation quickly turned into playful gossip about various company scandals—who was secretly dating whom, which instructors were the toughest, and who had mysteriously dropped out of the program.

it wasn’t until yuqi casually mentioned a name that you had already become all too familiar with that the conversation took a more intriguing turn.

“did you see hyunjin’s back from korea?” yuqi asked, slinging her bag off her shoulder before settling onto one of the couches.

your ears instantly perked up. you and the rest of the group followed suit, finding seats around her, the air buzzing with curiosity.

“i’m surprised he’s back so soon, considering what happened,” yeji added with a knowing grin, the kind that suggested she was sitting on a particularly juicy piece of information.

“what happened?” celeste beat you to the question just as you were about to ask yourself.

yeji leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if afraid someone else might overhear. “right before the end of last year, hyunjin got dumped by madeline picard—one of the best dancers this company has ever seen.” she let the name linger, watching for your reaction.

your brows furrowed. madeline picard. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but before you could dwell on it, yuqi picked up where yeji left off.

“yeah, and apparently, it wasn’t just a normal breakup. he totally lost it—had a complete meltdown and accused her of cheating because she ended things so suddenly.”

you blinked, surprised. hyunjin didn’t exactly seem like the type to be dramatic over a breakup.

lia, who had been mostly quiet until now, tilted her head, her expression amused. “i heard all he did in korea was go clubbing and hook up with every girl he came across.” she raised a brow as if challenging anyone to refute her claim.

your stomach twisted slightly. you weren’t sure why. maybe it was because you had only just met hyunjin, and already, there was so much weight behind his name. or maybe it was the idea that, beneath his striking looks and undeniable talent, there was something messy lurking underneath.

"apparently, he hasn’t spoken to anyone from last year," yeji added, her tone dripping with intrigue.

"he talked to me."

the words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, regret settled in your stomach like a rock. instantly, all eyes snapped to you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity flashing across their faces.

"what?" yeji practically narrowed her eyes at you, a sharp, almost jealous glint in her gaze.

"wait, hold on," yuqi leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. "you actually spoke to hyunjin? when?"

you swallowed, suddenly feeling very small under their intense stares. "it was nothing," you said quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "i mean… he just offered to help me with my bags yesterday."

silence. then—

"you’re telling me," lia started slowly, eyeing you with suspicion, "that he randomly decided to help you with your luggage?"

"it wasn’t like that," you rushed to explain. "i didn’t even recognize him at first. i thought he was some weird guy bothering me, so i kind of snapped at him."

yuqi gasped dramatically. "you snapped at hyunjin?"

"well, yeah, but i didn’t know it was him!" you defended.

celeste let out a low whistle, shaking her head in amusement. "wow. bold of you."

yeji folded her arms, tapping a manicured finger against her elbow. "and what did he say after you oh-so-graciously rejected his help?"

you hesitated, recalling the way his dark eyes had flickered with something unreadable when you told him no. how he had looked you over before flashing a knowing grin.

"he just smiled and walked away," you admitted, shifting uncomfortably under their scrutinizing gazes.

another round of silence followed.

then, to your utter shock, lia smirked. "oh, he’s interested."

your eyes widened. "what? no, he’s not! it was just a random encounter—"

"please," yuqi scoffed. "hyunjin doesn’t go out of his way for just anyone. and you’re new, so it’s not like he has some pre-existing friendship with you."

"yeah," celeste chimed in, grinning. "sounds like someone caught the star dancer’s attention."

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. "you guys are seriously overthinking this."

"are we?" yeji quirked a brow. "or are you underthinking it?"

you shook your head, but the butterflies in your stomach told you otherwise.

as the weeks passed, the reality of your position at lumière ballet company began to settle in. you quickly realized that, compared to many of the other dancers, you had a lot of ground to cover. your turnout wasn’t as refined, your footwork wasn’t as naturally strong, and the effortless grace that others seemed to possess still felt just out of your reach. every class was a reminder of how much work lay ahead of you.

celeste was a constant source of encouragement, always quick to remind you that progress takes time, but even her reassurances couldn’t stop the nagging doubt from creeping in. what if it wasn’t enough? what if, no matter how hard you pushed yourself, your technique still paled in comparison to the others? the thought of being cut prematurely haunted you, lingering in the back of your mind like a storm cloud threatening to break.

but it wasn’t until you were unexpectedly called to the headmaster’s office that true fear gripped you. your heart pounded as you made your way through the halls, every step feeling heavier than the last. was this it? had they already decided that you weren’t good enough? the possibility loomed over you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

as you reached the emile’s office, you hesitated for a brief moment before gathering the courage to knock.

“come in,” a voice called from the other side.

taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. the office was grand yet intimidating, with towering bookshelves filled with ballet history, framed photos of past company stars, and the sharp scent of polished wood lingering in the air. seated behind an ornate mahogany desk was emile, a man whose presence commanded respect. across from him sat miss cassandra, your primary instructor, her sharp eyes scanning you the moment you entered.

“take a seat,” he instructed, motioning to the chair across from him.

your heart pounded as you settled into the seat, your palms pressing nervously against your skirt. miss cassandra crossed her legs, folding her hands in her lap as the headmaster leaned forward, scrutinizing you for a moment before finally speaking.

“you’ve been here for a few weeks now,” he began, his tone calm but firm. “and i imagine you’ve realized just how competitive this company is.”

you swallowed, nodding.

“the reality is, ballet is as much about physicality as it is about artistry. this company—this industry—demands precision, discipline, and most importantly, the right body for it,” he continued. “your lines, your turnout, the way your feet work—it all matters. you have potential, but potential alone doesn’t earn you a place here.”

miss cassandra finally spoke, her voice carrying the same sharpness you were used to hearing in class. “you’re a hard worker, and that’s good. but hard work only goes so far when your technique isn’t where it needs to be. your turnout is lacking, and without proper turnout, your movements will never have the seamless quality we expect here.”

you gripped your hands together, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

“the workshop performance is approaching,” the headmaster reminded you. “that performance will determine whether or not you earn your spot in the company. if you don’t show significant improvement by then, i’m afraid you won’t be able to continue training here.”

the words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. you had known this company was difficult, but hearing those words so plainly was different—it was a direct challenge, a warning that time was running out.

“we aren’t saying this to discourage you,” miss cassandra said, her gaze piercing. “we’re telling you this so you understand the reality of what’s at stake. you have work to do, and not much time to do it.”

emile nodded. “if you truly want this, you need to prove it. show us that you belong here.”

you felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, but beneath the fear, there was determination. you had fought too hard to get here—leaving wasn’t an option.

“i understand,” you said quietly, but with conviction.

miss cassandra studied you for a moment before nodding. “good. then i suggest you start working twice as hard, because the clock is ticking.”

with that, the meeting was over. you stood, offering a polite nod before turning toward the door. as you stepped into the hallway, the reality of the situation fully set in. you had only a few weeks to prove yourself.

back at the dorm, you sat on the edge of your bed, your hands clasped together in your lap as you tried to process everything. the headmaster’s words played over and over in your mind, intertwining with miss cassandra’s sharp critiques. the weight of it all felt suffocating.

celeste sat beside you, her arm draped around your shoulders in a comforting squeeze. “hey, don’t let it get to you too much,” she said softly. “you’re working hard. that has to count for something.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if it’s enough.”

celeste frowned, nudging you gently. “of course it’s enough. you’re not some talentless beginner. you got accepted here for a reason. if they didn’t see potential, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

you wanted to believe her, but emile’s warning still rang in your ears. potential isn’t enough.

before you could respond, the door to the dorm swung open, and yeji walked in, dropping her bag onto the floor with a thud. she glanced at the two of you before cocking her head. “what’s with the sad puppy look?”

celeste shot her a look. “she just had a talk with the headmaster.”

yeji raised a brow. “oh?” she tossed her shoes off and sat on her bed, crossing her legs. “let me guess. he told you your technique isn’t good enough?”

your silence was enough.

yeji sighed, shrugging as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. “well… he’s right.”

celeste stiffened beside you. “yeji.”

“what?” yeji leaned back against her pillows. “i’m just saying. this isn’t some feel-good ballet academy. if you can’t keep up, you get cut. that’s how it works.”

your stomach twisted at her bluntness. you knew she wasn’t saying it to be outright cruel—it was just how she was. but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

celeste shot up from the bed, glaring at yeji. “she knows that. she doesn’t need you rubbing it in.”

yeji rolled her eyes. “i’m not rubbing it in. i’m just being realistic.”

you exhaled, rubbing your temples. “she’s not wrong.”

celeste groaned, turning back to you. “no, don’t listen to her. you can do this. you just have to work harder, and i’ll help you however i can, okay?”

you nodded, offering her a small smile of appreciation.

yeji sighed dramatically, swinging her legs onto the bed. “i’m just saying, you should get used to criticism. if you can’t handle a little tough love, you won’t last here.”

celeste threw a pillow at her. “your love is just tough. there’s no love in it.”

yeji smirked, catching the pillow with ease. “fine. then consider it free advice.”

celeste huffed, plopping back down onto your bed with a determined look on her face. “alright, enough of this depressing mood. we need a distraction.”

you blinked at her, confused. “a distraction?”

she nodded, a mischievous grin forming. “yes. you, my dear, need a break. and i have just the thing—clubbing.”

your eyes widened. “clubbing?”

“clubbing,” she confirmed, already pulling out her phone. “we’re getting dressed up, going out, and having fun. you’ve been working your ass off, and it’s time to let loose for one night.”

yeji scoffed from her bed, stretching her arms over her head. “you? at a club?” she eyed you skeptically. “are you even the type?”

celeste shot her a glare. “of course she is. she just doesn’t know it yet.” then, without waiting for a response, she started texting. “i’m messaging minho, jisung, yuqi, and felix. we’re making a night of it.”

you groaned, already feeling exhausted at the thought. “celeste, i don’t know—”

“nope! no excuses.” she stood, hands on her hips. “you’re stressed, you’re overworked, and you’re doubting yourself. what you need is a night of dancing, drinks, and good music. trust me.”

yeji smirked. “i’ll go.”

“of course you will,” celeste muttered before turning back to you. “come on, y/n. when’s the last time you did something fun?”

you hesitated. you weren’t exactly the clubbing type, and the thought of being in a crowded place with loud music and flashing lights wasn’t something you typically sought out. but… maybe celeste had a point.

you had been completely consumed by ballet. the stress of proving yourself was weighing heavier by the day, and if you didn’t let loose even a little, you might actually implode.

“…fine,” you finally relented with a sigh.

celeste cheered, throwing her arms around you. “yes! i knew you’d come around.”

yeji chuckled, shaking her head. “this should be interesting.”

celeste turned back to her phone, quickly typing away. “minho says he’s in. jisung too. yuqi and felix are coming, so that means we officially have a squad.”

you bit your lip, nerves bubbling in your chest. what had you just agreed to?

celeste clasped her hands together. “alright, girls. let’s get ready. y/n, you’re gonna look so good, no man will be able to take his eyes off you.”

when you walked up to the club with celeste, yeji, and yuqi, jisung’s eyes lit up. it was almost as if he was in awe of you. of course, you didn’t notice, still too hung up on what the headmaster said to you that afternoon. 

jisung’s eyes roamed over you as you approached, his lips parting slightly as if he had something to say but couldn’t quite find the words. you looked different tonight—more than just dressed up. there was something about you that drew his attention like a magnet, something that made his chest feel a little tighter.

"you look..." he started, pausing as if searching for the right word. "wow."

you blinked, momentarily pulled from your thoughts. "huh?"

jisung let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "you look beautiful, y/n." his voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

you stared at him for a moment, then scoffed lightly, shaking your head. "yeah, right."

his brows furrowed. "i'm serious."

you offered him a small, polite smile. "thanks, jisung," you said, even though you didn’t quite believe him. it was a sweet thing to say, but after the afternoon you had, it was hard to see yourself as anything other than inadequate.

jisung frowned slightly, as if he could sense exactly what you were thinking. but before he could say anything more, minho clapped a hand on his shoulder. "are we going in or what?"

jisung gave you one last glance before nodding. "yeah. let’s go."

as the group made their way into the club, jisung couldn’t help but wonder why you brushed off his compliment so easily. and why, no matter how many people were around you, you still looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

once you all stepped inside, the pulsing bass of the music vibrated through your chest, the dim, colorful lights casting a glow over the crowded dance floor. the group pooled their money together for a table near the edge of the club, a spot just far enough from the speakers to talk but still close enough to feel the infectious energy of the room.

drinks were passed around, laughter filled the air, and everyone seemed to be letting loose—everyone except you. no matter how much you tried to shake it off, the nagging weight of earlier conversations pressed heavily on your mind, dragging you down. you sat there, absently swirling the liquid in your glass, your gaze unfocused as your thoughts spiraled.

that was when jisung carefully reached over, plucking the drink from your fingers and setting it down on the table.

blinking, you turned to look at him, confusion flickering across your face. “what are you doing?”

his fingers wrapped gently around your hand, giving it a light tug as a playful smile tugged at his lips. "you didn’t get all dressed up just to sit here and overthink, did you?"

you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, he nodded toward the dance floor, where bodies moved fluidly under the flashing lights. “come on,” he urged, his voice warm and inviting.

for a second, you hesitated. but the way jisung looked at you—like he wanted nothing more than to pull you away from whatever storm was brewing in your mind—made it hard to say no.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing between jisung and the crowded dance floor. the pulsing music, the flashing lights, the bodies moving in sync—it was all so overwhelming. but then you looked at him. his eyes held no pressure, only warmth, only the unspoken promise that he was there, that he wanted you to have fun.

with a breath, you gave in. “okay,” you said softly.

a grin broke across jisung’s face as he gently led you onto the floor, weaving through the crowd until you found a space of your own. the rhythm of the music pulsed around you, a beat so infectious that it was impossible not to move. you started off slow, still a little unsure, your body stiff with lingering stress.

but jisung was different. he wasn’t stiff, not even a little. he moved with an effortless ease, his body in tune with the music like he was born for it. and as he danced beside you, he encouraged you with little smiles, playful nods, the way he subtly matched your movements to make it feel less like you were dancing alone.

“see?” he leaned in, his voice low but audible over the music. “not so bad, right?”

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “i guess not.”

the tension in your shoulders began to melt away as the music took over, and for the first time that night, you felt lighter. jisung noticed it too—the way your movements became freer, how your laughter slipped out more easily. and god, did he think you were beautiful like this.

the flashing club lights illuminated your features in shifting shades of blue, purple, and red. your hair framed your face just right, your eyes shining even in the dim light. jisung had always thought you were beautiful, but here, seeing you loosen up, seeing you smile after looking so down all evening, it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

you twirled, laughing as the movement made you stumble slightly, and instinctively, jisung’s hands found your waist, steadying you before you could lose your balance. it was just for a second, but when you looked up at him, your faces only inches apart, he felt his breath catch.

his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary before he cleared his throat, stepping back with a grin, though his heart was racing. “careful,” he teased. “don’t go falling for me now.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “as if.”

but the way jisung looked at you in that moment, his gaze lingering, his playful smirk softening into something fonder—if only you knew just how much he already had fallen. 

after what felt like an eternity of dancing—your body light with adrenaline, the weight of the past weeks momentarily forgotten—jisung finally pulled away with a breathless grin. “alright, alright,” he laughed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “even i need a break.”

you chuckled, nodding in agreement. “yeah, i could use a drink.”

together, you weaved through the throng of people toward the bar, where the neon glow cast everything in shades of blue and purple. jisung leaned against the counter, signaling to the bartender while you stood beside him, catching your breath. your skin was still warm from dancing, your heart racing—not just from the exertion, but from the lingering feeling of jisung’s hands on your waist, the way he had looked at you under the flashing lights.

you exhaled deeply, shaking the thoughts away as the bartender slid two drinks across the counter. you reached for yours absentmindedly, lifting it to your lips—

“didn’t expect to see you here.”

you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. you knew that voice. slowly, you turned your head, and there he was.

hyunjin.

up close, the dim club lighting softened the sharp angles of his face, but his presence was just as striking as ever. his platinum hair fell slightly into his dark eyes, which were locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart stutter. he smelled faintly of expensive cologne and alcohol, the scent mingling with the warmth of the crowded club.

you swallowed, willing your expression to stay neutral. “didn’t expect to see you either,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

hyunjin tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “didn’t take you for the clubbing type.” his eyes flickered over you, taking in the way your dress hugged your figure, how different you looked outside of the company’s strict ballet attire.

you raised a brow. “and what type did you take me for?”

he chuckled, resting his elbow on the bar beside you, leaning in just slightly. “hardworking. serious. someone who wouldn’t waste time on things like this.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “so i can’t let loose once in a while?”

“i didn’t say that.” he lifted his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip before continuing. “it’s just… surprising.”

you chuckled and shook your head. “do you even know my name?” you raised a brow as you looked up at him. he looked down at you, that smirk never leaving his stupidly gorgeous face. 

“y/n l/n.” he smiled. “how could i forget a face like yours?”

something about the way he said it sent an odd thrill through you. it wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at you.

before you could come up with a response, another voice cut in.

“everything alright here?”

you turned to see jisung standing beside you, his gaze flicking between you and hyunjin. his usual warmth was still there, but there was something else too—a quiet protectiveness, a subtle tension in the way he held himself.

hyunjin looked at jisung, then back at you, his smirk widening slightly, as if he understood something neither of you had said out loud. he straightened, stepping back slightly. “didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes told you he had done exactly that.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “we were just talking.”

“of course,” hyunjin mused, swirling the ice in his glass. then, with one last glance at you—one that lingered a second too long—he gave a small nod. “enjoy your night, y/n l/n.”

and just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving behind the scent of cologne and the faintest trace of something else.

jisung watched hyunjin disappear into the crowd, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. he turned back to you, studying your face—the way your eyes lingered on the spot hyunjin had stood, the way your fingers still gripped your drink a little too tightly.

“you okay?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

you nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. “yeah.”

jisung let out a breath, forcing a small chuckle. “you know… for someone who just met him, you sure look at him like he hung the stars.”

your eyes snapped to his, caught off guard by the edge in his voice. it wasn’t anger—not exactly. but there was something there, something deeper than his usual lightheartedness.

you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling exposed. “i don’t—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “it’s not like that.”

jisung gave you a look, one that told you he wasn’t buying it. “isn’t it?”

you swallowed, trying to find the right words, but none came. because deep down, you knew there was truth in what he was saying. there was something about hyunjin—his presence, his reputation, the effortless way he pulled you in. it was exciting. addictive, even.

jisung sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “look, i’m not trying to ruin your night.” his voice was softer now, but there was a weight behind it. “i just…” he hesitated, then forced a small smile. “never mind.”

“no, what?” you frowned, stepping closer. “tell me.”

jisung studied you for a moment, then shook his head with a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “nothing. just… be careful with him, okay?”

you wanted to ask why. wanted to pry into whatever was making his expression so guarded. but before you could, celeste appeared beside you, draping an arm over your shoulder.

“there you are! come on, we bought another round.”

you glanced back at jisung, but he had already taken a step away, masking whatever he was feeling with his usual easygoing grin.

“yeah,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus back on the present. “let’s go.”

but even as celeste dragged you toward the bar, you couldn’t shake the feeling that jisung’s words weren’t just a warning.

they were a plea.

the air in the studio was thick with tension, the usual routine of class disrupted by the presence of an audience. against the far wall, the company’s most renowned dancers, including hyunjin, sat in a neat line alongside the instructors and the director himself, their watchful eyes scanning the room as they whispered amongst themselves.

it had been a few months since your first day at lumière, and you’d finally begun to settle into the rigorous schedule, but today’s class wasn’t just another routine. today, they were scouting for dancers to be featured in the upcoming workshop—a performance that could solidify your place at the company.

your heart pounded as you stepped up to the barre, standing between celeste and yeji. yeji, always composed, adjusted her arm with practiced ease, while celeste rolled her shoulders back, flashing you a reassuring glance. “relax,” she mouthed.

you tried. you really did. but when the pianist began to play, signaling the start of class, your limbs felt stiffer than usual.

the warm-up passed in a blur of tendus and pliés, and as the class progressed, the instructors led everyone to the center for adagios and pirouettes. it was there, under the relentless scrutiny of the panel, that your nerves truly took hold.

“focus on turnout,” miss cassandra’s voice rang out as she walked the floor, correcting postures with a tap of her stick. “shoulders down, breath through the movement.”

you moved into your développé, willing yourself to remain poised, but as you extended your leg, you felt the slightest tremor in your ankle. it wasn’t much, but you knew the observers were trained to notice every detail.

beside you, yeji moved with the elegance of someone who had spent her entire life training for this moment. she was fluid, controlled, every movement effortless. it was no surprise—she was practically a shoo-in for the workshop.

celeste, meanwhile, danced with raw passion. even if her technique wasn’t as pristine, her expressiveness more than made up for it. you could tell she was determined to stand out today.

then there was jisung. though he was newer to classical ballet, he moved with an ease that made it seem as if he had been doing it all his life. his jumps were strong, and his turns were quick yet smooth, full of a quiet confidence that was captivating.

when it was time for pirouettes, you swallowed hard. you weren’t bad at them, but they weren’t your strongest skill either. you tried to keep your focus on the movement, on your breath, on the control of your core—but the moment you spotted hyunjin watching you from across the room, your rhythm faltered.

you stumbled slightly on your third rotation, stepping out of the turn to catch yourself.

you heard a quiet hum of disapproval from the instructors’ side. heat rushed to your face, but you kept going, forcing yourself to push through.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw hyunjin tilt his head, an unreadable expression on his face. he leaned in slightly as if saying something to the dancer beside him, and for a split second, your stomach twisted with uncertainty. was he talking about you?

before you could dwell on it, the instructor clapped her hands. “next group.”

you exhaled sharply and stepped back, catching jisung’s glance as you did. he gave you a small, encouraging smile, one that you tried to return despite the weight in your chest.

the class continued with across-the-floor exercises, and though you did your best, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today had not been your strongest performance.

as the final reverence came to a close, the director finally stepped forward.

“thank you all,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. his voice was calm, measured, but held a weight that made your stomach churn. “we’ve been observing closely, and over the next few days, we will be making our selections for the workshop.” his sharp eyes swept the room. “work hard. your future here depends on it.”

with that, he turned and left, the rest of the observers trailing behind him.

hyunjin was the last to go.

as he stepped out, his gaze flickered toward you once more.

you had only meant to make a quick stop at the drugstore, picking up a few necessities—shampoo, toothpaste, maybe even a face mask to treat yourself after the grueling week of training. but as you browsed the shelves, a familiar figure caught your eye from the corner of the aisle.

at first, you froze, your mind scrambling to process whether or not you were seeing things. maybe it was just someone who looked like him—platinum blond hair wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t impossible. still, curiosity got the best of you.

gripping your shopping basket a little tighter, you stepped out of the aisle and glanced in the direction he had gone. the moment your eyes landed on him, any doubt vanished. it was hyunjin.

he was standing by the skincare section, intently reading the label of a serum bottle, his sharp features relaxed in concentration.

without giving yourself time to overthink it, you strode toward him, adopting a casual air as you stopped beside him. “i’m starting to think you’re stalking me,” you quipped, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you pretended to inspect the same shelf he was browsing.

hyunjin turned his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk as he met your gaze. “oh?” he mused, raising a brow. “and here i thought you were stalking me.”

you scoffed, picking up a random moisturizer just to keep your hands busy. “i was here first.”

“so you say.” he let out a soft chuckle before setting the serum back on the shelf, shoving a hand into the pockets of his hoodie. “didn’t expect to see you outside the studio. you look different compared to how i saw you the other day.”

you blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “different how?”

hyunjin tilted his head, scanning you briefly. “less serious. less…” he trailed off, searching for the word before finally settling on, “stressed.”

you let out a small laugh, though the statement made something twist in your chest. “guess that means i should work on my poker face.”

his smirk lingered as he leaned a bit closer, voice dropping slightly. “or maybe you should learn to loosen up.”

your breath hitched at the proximity, but you quickly masked it, rolling your eyes instead. “says the guy who takes himself so seriously he can’t even enjoy a simple trip to the drugstore.” you gestured toward the products in front of him. “what are you even looking for?”

“face cleanser,” he said, picking up a bottle. “ran out.”

you feigned interest, tilting your head as you examined it. “is that the secret to looking like a prince on stage?”

hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. “it’s just face wash.”

“sure it is,” you teased, placing the moisturizer back on the shelf. “next you’re gonna tell me you don’t have some ten-step skincare routine.”

he chuckled, running a hand against his hair. “maybe i do. gotta keep up appearances, right?”

you found yourself smiling, the usual nerves you felt around him easing just a little.

for a moment, the conversation settled into a comfortable pause. then, with a glance at your basket, hyunjin nodded toward it. “what about you? shopping spree?”

you scoffed. “hardly. just grabbing some things i ran out of.”

“hm.” he tapped his fingers against the edge of the shelf, studying you for a moment before flashing a lopsided grin. “well, don’t let me keep you from your very important purchases.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “yeah, wouldn’t want to get in the way of your skincare journey, either.”

just as you were about to turn away, hyunjin’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“hey.”

you glanced back at him, heart inexplicably picking up speed as he casually dropped a bottle of cleanser into his basket.

“have you had dinner yet?” he asked, his voice smooth yet unreadable. he took a slow step toward you, his head tilting slightly as he studied your reaction.

you froze, caught completely off guard. your fingers instinctively tightened around the handle of your basket. “um… no. not yet, anyway.” the words tumbled from your lips, slightly uneven.

hyunjin’s mouth twitched in amusement, clearly noticing your sudden shift in demeanor. “then let’s eat something,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

your brows lifted slightly. “what, like… together?”

he let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “no, separately. at the same place. sitting at different tables.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the tiny smile forming at the corners of your lips. “alright, smartass. i just wasn’t expecting you to—” you paused, suddenly hesitant. was this… a date? or was he just being friendly?

“wasn’t expecting me to what?” hyunjin prompted, watching you with an unreadable expression.

you shifted on your feet. “to, i don’t know, invite me to dinner?”

his smirk softened, and he shrugged. “why not? i’m hungry, you’re hungry. might as well eat together. better yet, how about we go to my place?”

it was such a simple reason. no deeper meaning, no hidden intentions—at least, none that you could decipher. and yet, something about the idea of sharing a meal with hyunjin made your stomach flip in a way you weren’t sure how to handle.

“okay,” you said before you could overthink it. “yeah. sure.”

hyunjin grinned, satisfied. “good.” he glanced down at your basket. “you done shopping?”

you nodded, and together, the two of you made your way toward the checkout counter.

as you stood in line, you stole a quick glance at him. this was the most time you had spent with him outside of class, and despite your initial nerves, it felt… natural. easy, even.

little did you know, jisung had texted you while you were shopping. and when you didn’t answer, he’d decided to call.

just as you placed your items on the counter, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pulled it out, seeing the screen light up with a familiar name. jisung.

you hesitated, glancing at hyunjin, who was now placing his own items on the counter.

as the phone buzzed in your hand, you hesitated for a second before pulling it out and answering.

"hey, jisung," you said, trying to sound casual as you stepped slightly away from hyunjin.

"hey! i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some food or something? you kinda disappeared after class, and i figured you could use a break." his voice was as warm as ever, that familiar lilt making you feel at ease.

you chewed on your lip, glancing at hyunjin, who was busy paying for his things. “oh, um… i actually just made plans to eat.”

“with who?” jisung asked lightly, but you could hear the slight shift in his tone.

you hesitated. “hyunjin.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end. not long—just a second—but enough for you to notice.

“oh,” jisung finally said. “cool. guess he’s finally got you under his spell, huh?” his attempt at humor didn’t fully mask the disappointment in his voice.

you sighed, feeling a slight pang of guilt. “it’s just dinner. it wasn’t even planned or anything, we just ran into each other at the store.”

“right.” another pause. then, a forced chuckle. “well, have fun, then.”

you frowned at his sudden change in demeanor. “jisung, don’t be like that.”

“like what?” he let out a small laugh, but it lacked his usual warmth. “look, you can hang out with whoever you want. i was just calling to check in, that’s all.”

you exhaled through your nose, wanting to say more, but before you could, he beat you to it.

“i’ll see you later, okay?”

and before you could respond, the call ended.

you lowered your phone, staring at the screen for a moment. something about the way he had sounded unsettled you. you knew jisung cared about you—he was one of your closest friends here—but this felt different.

“everything okay?” hyunjin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. he was standing next to you now, his bag in one hand, yours in the other, both receipts discarded. you didn’t even realize he bought your things for you, you were still hung up on what han said.

you forced a small smile, tucking your phone away. “yeah. just… my friend checking in.”

hyunjin raised a brow, but didn’t press. “ready to go?”

you nodded, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of jisung as you followed hyunjin out the door.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @nickgurl4life

©chansdoll do not repost, translate, or copy my works in any way, shape, or form.

[angelofthenight01]

The Ballerina and the Blade

Natasha Romanoff x Reader (AU)

genre: enemies to lovers   ||     warnings: none

Summary: Ballet is a highly competitive and fiercely controlled world, dominated by two rival academies. You are a rising star at the prestigious ‘Académie Royale’, known for its traditional, rigid style. Natasha Romanoff is the rebellious, self-taught prodigy at the gritty ‘Shadowlands Dance Collective,’ infamous for their raw, visceral movements.

The air in the Grand Théâtre trembled with anticipation. It was the annual Grand Prix de Ballet, the most coveted prize in the world of dance, and the tension was palpable. You stood backstage, adjusting the satin of your pointe shoes. Your heart pounded a familiar, nervous rhythm. You knew your performance was flawless, technically perfect, a testament to years of dedication at the Académie Royale.

Then you saw her.

Natasha Romanoff stood across the corridor, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over a black leather jacket that didn’t quite fit with the opulent surroundings. Her midnight hair was pulled back in a messy bun, stray strands framing a face that seemed perpetually carved from ice. You hated her. You hated her audacity, her arrogance, the way she looked down at the polished floors like she owned the place.

Shadowlands was everything the Académie was not: untamed, unconventional, and wildly popular with the younger generation of dancers. They flaunted their technique, or rather, lack of, and called it “artistic freedom.” They were a stain on the purity of ballet. And Natasha? She was their figurehead, a symbol of everything you despised.

Throughout the competition, you found yourself drawn to her, despite your better judgment. You watched her perform, watched her move with an almost feral grace, her body a language of its own. It wasn't the measured, precise beauty of your ballet; it was raw emotion, sharp and cutting, like a blade.

The judges' panel favored tradition, and you, as expected, took home the gold. The applause was loud, the cheers deafening, but all you could see was Natasha. Her expression was unreadable, those green eyes narrowed as she offered a single clap, a mockery of genuine praise.

You thought that would be the end of it. But a week later, you received an anonymous invitation to a late-night dance-off at a clandestine studio. It was obvious who had sent it.

You hesitated, your pride warring with a strange curiosity. But the thought of another stolen glance at her powerful movements won out.

When you arrived, the studio was dimly lit, only a few spotlights piercing the darkness. Natasha stood in the center, a smirk playing on her lips. “You came,” she purred, her voice low and husky.

"Don't get too excited, Romanoff. I’m here to end this absurd rivalry," you replied, doing your best to project an air of composure you didn’t feel.

"Is that so? Then prove it," she challenged, stepping aside to indicate the dance floor.

The music started, a fusion of classical and electronic beats that mirrored the clashing styles between you and her. You began with your usual precise movements, every gesture crafted with years of training. Natasha mirrored you, her movements a distorted, rebellious echo. Yet, there was a strange beauty in the way she reacted, improvising and pushing the boundaries of your steps.

As the night wore on, the rivalry began to blur. You found yourself reacting to her, adapting to her intensity. Your controlled ballet began to incorporate her raw power, and her aggressive style softened with your grace. The dance became a conversation, a language woven from steps and leaps, a dialogue of bodies that transcended words.

The physical closeness, the sweat, the shared exhaustion brought a different kind of tension. The air crackled between you, a slow burn that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

Finally, the music stopped. You both stood, chests heaving, the studio silent but for your ragged breaths. You couldn't meet her eyes, a strange mix of shame and anticipation washing over you.

"You... you’re not so bad, for a polished doll,” Natasha confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

You looked up, surprise flickering through your eyes. "And you, for a feral wolf, have… potential.”

A slow smile spread across Natasha's face, a genuine smile that reached her eyes and turned them from ice to something warmer, something... alluring.

"Maybe," she said, stepping closer, "maybe we could explore that potential... together."

Your heart hammered in your chest. The rivalry, the hate, the carefully constructed barriers you had built around yourself seemed to crumble with those words. You found yourself leaning in, the world narrowing to the space between you.

It wasn't the kind of love that bloomed overnight. It was a slow burn, a gradual unraveling of animosity into something deeper, something unexpected. It was the fusion of two worlds, the blending of two dances, the story of a Ballerina and a Blade, who found harmony amidst their clashing rhythms.

And then, one night, in that dimly lit studio, beneath the glow of the spotlights, you kissed her, the taste of rebellion and the promise of something new lingering on your lips. 

It was just the beginning of your dance.

[peachesvault]

Dancing Queen || Quirkless Au || Frat!Bakugou x Hiphop!Reader

Quick note, this is not finished what so ever, consider this a teaser. This is to see if anybody would actually be interested in me turning this into a full fledged series. Also reader and Mina are both considered to be brown (since there’s no quirks) as shown in the photos used (Y R THERE NO POC ON PINTEREST OR GOOGLE OMG), but this can be a self insert if you wish. Not proofread whatsoever so pls tell me somethings glaring!

Synopsis: Y/n Ashido, the sister of Mina Ashido is a dance prodigy. You were selected by a prestigious hiphop academy/ boarding school as a young child, and have been overseas apart from your family for the past 7 years. Due to circumstances you head back to Japan, and meet your sisters friends. A certain blonde sticks out to you..

Hello -,

we’re incredibly sorry to hear about your injury, however considering its severity, we have decided to rethink your scholarship. Although you are a model student, we simply don’t have the space to accommodate an injured student while there are hundreds in the waitlist, so for now we have to revoke your scholarship, including your student accommodation. You have until the 29th to fully move out of the previously provided dorm. If you have any questions feel free to go to the head office. If you wish to return to Étoile Conservatory of Dance under hip hop in the future after you have healed, headmistress Kaea has requested you personally seek an audience with her.

Regards,

Louise Wang || Deputy principal for Étoile Conservatory of Dance

Contact at: #########@gmail.com, Étoile Conservatory of Dance on ###### street, #####, Sydney, Australia

The smooth thick card paper gave up in your hands, crunching uglily as you kick it aside. Ofcourse they had to send it in a handwritten letter, really let the pain settle in knowing some random- Louise had sat in her office writing it, probably smacking her lips and chewing on gum like she has a habit of doing. She couldn’t have sent an email? That would have been so much better, knowing it wasn’t as personal.

You know your anger was misdirected, a hoax, an effort to shove down the fear creeping up your chest, stabbing you in the sternum, avoiding the thick air. Dance was all you had known. Ever since you were 9. You, Y/n Ashido, the child hip hop prodigy, catched the interest of Miss Kaea, a famous figure in the industry, as the most paid dancer, aswell as the headmistress of the 3rd most prestigious academy, Étoile had grown to be home. Miss Kaea had handpicked her, reaching out to your parents, offering to cover your whole future expenses and education wise, even flying you halfway across the world so that you could attend her academy. Yet here she was, practically your second mother figure, dumping you over a cracked femur that had almost completely healed. Sure, you might not be able to jump onto your left leg anymore, but surely she could contact a good doctor that could heal it easily, knowing all the connections she has to A-tier celebrities. What had changed? Were you really nothing but an investment?

The lights flickered overhead, almost in an effort to mock your suffering. You couldn’t even bear to look at this god forsaken dorm anymore, somewhere you once considered home. But at home you wouldn’t get kicked out so cruelly, no consideration for the almost decade, 7 years, of blood sweat and tears you put into Étoile. What were you meant to do now? You had friends here, a lot actually, but they all stayed at the dorms anyways so it’s not like you could crash at one of theirs. There was nobody who didn’t live at some sort of dorm, there was no place left for you at Sydney and legally you couldn’t even rent, due to being a minor and all that. There weren’t even options for other academy’s around here, with all of them only revolving around ballet and classical technique based, something you didn’t have the calling for.

Sitting on your bed, everything seemed hopeless, you just needed to heal your leg and you’d be back… but you needed somewhere to heal first. You eyed your phone, before dialling a number that you probably shouldn’t have neglected for so long, if it was a physical being it would have had a fat layer of dust on it already. Not from hatred or ignorance but just your busy schedule.

“Hey ma..”

Reblogs and spam likes encouraged and welcomed! Do not copy or post on other platforms.

[lady-stirling]

💜 Ashlyn (26), the oldest. She was 15 when she was adopted after the orphanage closed. Despite her love for dance, her real passion is the flute. Whenever she can, she takes part in recitals organised by her parents' academy.

Ashlyn | Blair | Courtney | Delia | Edeline | Fallon | Genevieve | Hadley | Isla | Janessa | Kathleen | Lacey

Extra: Derek | Rowena and Desmond

Barbie and the 12 Dancing Princess Modern!AU 🩷💃🏾 In this AU, most of them were adopted by the owners of the kingdom's ballet school after the orphanage they were in closed down. (As a reference for the drawings, I mixed elements from the film with the line of dolls 😉)

basic references under the cut:

[2broschlininahotub]

@ozzgin thank you for letting me write in your yandere school au.

So cw. Murder and graphic descriptions of gore.

This tale begins in a previous school year. This involves a student named Rinea form the darling academy. Rinea was inlove with a boy named berkut. Berkut was a student from the yandere school. Berkut was also in love with Riena. Rinea's friends all told her that Berkut was a bad influence. Rinea after finishing her ballet class told berkut and confessed that she was in love with Berkut soon after that they got together. Rinea's promise to berkut that we'll be together forever after this moment. Rinea's friends tried to break the two up since they had a problem with his personality.

This leads to Rinea's friends to sabotage their relationship. This leads to them framing berkut into cheating. Rinea then broke up with Berkut. Berkut had a plan into getting Rinea back. He was not gonna let her go that easily.

5 months from that incident. Rinea realized her friends were garbage cut them off. She opened the tv and saw that all her ex friends have been found in horrible conditions with one their faces being removed, another with their tongue removed and mouth sewn shut. Rinea then saw Berkut. Berkut covered in blood with a bloody spear on one hand and holding something else on his other hand said "we would be together forever and I will make that true."

Five years we see Rinea a teacher at the darling academy, Rinea feeding her baby and telling her students "that is how my husband proposed to me."

[mcrits]

kanthony ballet au!

Anthony has long since fallen out of love with ballet.

Ever since his father, a renowned dancer and head of the Bridgerton Dance Academy, passed away, Anthony has taken over his responsibilities. He rarely dances anymore, too focused on taking care of his family, keeping the academy running, and training the next generation of dancers, some of which are his own siblings.

One day, he's approached by his mother's dear friend Agatha Danbury, who asks if he wants to star in her upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet. He tries to decline, saying that he's far too busy with the academy, but in typical Danbury fashion, he ends up agreeing before he's even realized it.

His mother thinks it'll be good for him to dance again. "Maybe it'll get you out of whatever rut you've been in," she says. Anthony rolls his eyes.

"I'm not in a rut, mother. I've simply been busy."

"Busy brooding, maybe."

Upon showing up for the first day of rehearsals, he meets his Juliet: Edwina Sharma, an up-and-coming dancer from India who is just making her debut in London's professional ballet scene.

She's talented and lovely with work with. She's graceful and the very image of excellence. She never seems to misstep or slip. Anthony could never dream of achieving such perfection, and he's been dancing in some form since the day he learned to walk.

She's kind, as well. When they arrive, during their breaks, and when they're preparing to leave, they get a chance to talk. When she asks him if he wants to get dinner with her after rehearsal one day, he finds no reason why he shouldn't.

She tells him about the stories she's been reading, and he tells her about his work at the academy. Usually, he'd be preening at the attention of a pretty, smart, and kind woman who is possibly into him, but for whatever reason, he isn't.

He has to, though, at least on stage. He has to lift her and press his body to hers and kiss her.

It's fine, but Anthony certainly doesn't feel any of the passion he once felt for dancing. He can't wait to tell his mother 'I told you so.'

Until two weeks before they're set to open, that is. Anthony is lifting her like he's done a hundred times before, but this time, she pushes off a bit too hard, sending them both off balance.

He has neither the reaction time nor the grip to keep her from falling. She falls to the ground with a loud thud and a gasp of pain. As Anthony stares down at her in shock, he winces. Her ankle does not look right.

He drives her to the hospital, where he waits with her until she can be seen and sits with her in the exam room as a doctor examines her ankle.

That is where he meets the older sister he has heard so much about. Kate Sharma.

She's like a storm, bursting into the room with who is presumably their mother in tow, demanding to know what happened and if Edwina's okay.

"I'm okay, didi," Edwina assures her. "It was just a lift gone badly, it's alright." Her face turns a little sad. "They think my ankle is broken, but they're doing an X-ray to be sure. I also have a concussion from my head hitting the floor. but I'm okay, I promise."

Anthony knows that there is no chance of her being well enough to perform in just a few weeks. But in this moment, he doesn't have much of a chance to think about it, because Kate turns to him. Her eyes are burning.

"May i speak with you in the hall, Mr. Bridgerton?"

Anthony snorts at the overly formal name. "Certainly, Miss Sharma."

As soon as the door closes behind them, Kate starts talking. "So, a lift gone badly. What happened?"

"Well, I had her, she pushed off a bit too hard, we both lost our balance, and I wasn't able to catch her."

Kate stares at him. "So you're going to blame her for you dropping her?"

Anthony frowns, his mind spinning. "Excuse me?"

"Don't think I don't know what's happening here, Bridgerton. I know you didn't want to dance again. I know you probably want a way out of this."

When Anthony processes what she's insinuating, he laughs. "You think so lowly of me that you think I'd drop Edwina on purpose?"

"Considering the way you've led her on, yes, I do."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Anthony asks. "I've just been nice! I've never given her any impression that there was anything between us other than friendship. Would you rather I be rude to her?"

"No, but I'd rather you not take her to countless lunches and dinners."

"Do you end up kissing every single person you go to lunch with? Uou don't have to do that, you know."

Late, breathing heavily with her rage, groans. "You are insufferable."

"Then you must be looking into a mirror."

Finally, Kate storms off, and Anthony shakes his head. Unbelievable.

He says a quick goodbye to Edwina, telling her to let him know about how her recovery is going, and heads home.

The next morning, rehearsal is surprisingly still on. He arrives, his heart dropping into his stomach as he sees who's sitting on the floor, pulling on her pointe shoes.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Kate looks up at him, her expression hardening. "I don't like it any more than you do, Bridgerton. But I know this show, and we only have two weeks until opening night."

This is going to be a long two weeks.

As much as Kate makes it her life's mission to piss him off, he does have to admit that she impresses him. She hasn't done the choreography in years, and yet she picks it up quickly.

But even with her fast pace, she still stays long after everyone leaves, rehearsing steps.

One night, against his better judgement, he agrees to stay late and practice with her. Despite his lack of passion, he does want to show to be as perfect as it can be.

That night, with just the two of them practicing passionate scenes over and over, Anthony truly sees her.

Kate is everything Edwina is not. She's stubborn where Edwina is easy-going. She's rude where Edwina is nice. She's reserved where Edwina is open.

Anthony loves it.

Finally, he gets a glimpse of his old passion. Their steps become routine, allowing them to focus on the emotion of the scene. Their bodies press together, and Anthony feels warm for the first time in a long time.

Their touches last longer than they should. They're closer than what's necessary.

As he walks forward to kiss her, they're both panting heavily, and his approach is much slower than it usually is. He can't help but savor the sight of her. Her cheeks are red and her hair is messy from the exertion. The blood leaves Anthony's brain.

Their lips connect, his hands going to grab her waist as usual, but this time?

Instead of leaning back and extending her arms out, she wraps both arms around his neck, going off pointe and burying a hand in the back of his hair.

He moans, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, and she groans against his lips. His brain has completely shut off, and doesn't kick back into gear until Kate pulls away.

They're sitting on the floor, their feet and legs aching, and Kate straddles his lap. She seems to have lost herself, too, since she laughs breathlessly. "I think that's enough for today," she says, her gorgeous eyes constantly flicking between his eyes and his lips.

"Agreed," he whispers, leaning in to give her a brief kiss before hovering his lips by her ear, his voice lowering. "I know you've been sore since we started rehearsing. I could introduce you to my bathtub. A warm bath does wonders."

Kate shakes her head. "I shouldn't."

"But do you want to?"

After a moment of hesitation, she sighs. "Your bathtub better be big enough for two."

Anthony grins, his heart fluttering.

From that moment on, their late-night rendezvous become routine. It's the first time in a long time that Anthony has looked forward to dancing, and the sex that follows certainly helps with the passion. But between rehearsing and sex, they do get to know each other. And while half the time, they're arguing, the other half consists of deep conversations and jokes.

It's nice. Her humor is dry and witty, and Anthony's delighted by their constant banter. Unlike Edwina, Kate challenges him. While he doesn't enjoy being bested by her as often as he is, he can't help but be thrilled by the competition.

"I'll be sad when this is over," he admits softly during one of their breaks, sitting on the floor side-by-side and sipping water.

"So will I. It's been fun." She presses her shoulder against his, and he smiles, unable to take his eyes off of her. "I'm- I'm sorry I came off so strong during our first meeting."

"It's alright, Kate. I'm a protective older sibling, I get it. If it was my sister who was dropped by an asshole, I would've been pissed, too. But for the record, it really was an accident. and I hope she's back to dancing soon."

"Her doctor says she should be alright," Kate replies, nodding. "But thank you, Anthony. As much as it pains me to say this, you're not as bad as I thought."

Anthony rolls his eyes, but grins, bumping his shoulder against hers. "You're not so bad, either, Sharma."

When the show comes to a close, Kate stays over at Anthony's apartment before the closing night of the show. With their bodies pressed together, their limbs completely entangled underneath the blankets, Kate lifts her head from his bare chest and looks him in the eye.

"I don't want this to end, Anthony," she whispers, placing a hand on his cheek.

"Neither do I."

"Then we'll still see each other after the show ends?"

Anthony grins. "You won't be able to get rid of me."

Kate matches his grin and leans in to kiss him.

Anthony loves dancing again, and he also loves Kate Sharma.

[inoreuct]

i just got a brainwave. ZOSAN DANCER AU.

zoro mainly does hip hop, sanji mostly does ballet, they’re both attending this prestigious dance academy; zoro’s a scholarship student and he thinks sanji’s an absolute fucking snob. he can’t stand the prissy rich boy three studios down, golden with all the money from his royal background— he’s a vinsmoke. he’s a prince. it’s right there on the student name list, clear as day.

he’s only seen sanji from afar and yeah, sure, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge but the blond infuriates him with his stupid hair flips and his heart eyes and his mirror-hogging and the way he kneels down to retie the girls’ pointe shoe ribbons for them so that they don’t have to. he’s tall and willowy and strong and fucking talented and every time zoro sees him he wants to kick a hole through the drywall.

now, zoro doesn’t really practice in school often. he enjoys lessons well enough, but he and his crew dance their best in the streets. so when he signs up for a practice slot the one time and gets there (already fifteen minutes late, mind you) just to realise there’s a very familiar annoyance in his studio? he’s pissed. he slams the door open right as sanji executes a spinny jump thing that reaches a frankly ridiculous height, sinking to one knee with his head thrown back, the air ringing after the music’s final crescendo.

zoro doesn’t give a shit. he’s tired and hungry and needs to get his fucking step sequence clean before next week’s dance battle, and thus opens his mouth and shatters right through the thick quiet as he barks, “vinsmoke!”

and he doesn’t know why, but sanji’s gaze flicks to him and he freezes in place. the blond’s expression, just moments ago composed and focused, is dripping with something that zoro can’t quite name, but he has to stop himself from gulping when sanji gets up and beelines straight for him, jabbing a manicured finger right into his sternum without reserve.

“don’t. fucking. call me that,” the blond grits, damn near seething, jaw so tense zoro’s honestly afraid he’ll crack a tooth and it’s almost funny, but he suspects that he really did cross some sort of line, and he might be rough around the edges but he isn’t an ass.

“okay, i’m sorry,” he offers, cautious, hands up in the air. the words taste weird in his mouth, but sanji looks slightly less livid so he counts it as a win. “what do i call you, then?”

the other man looks torn between kicking zoro soundly in the shin (which zoro can already tell would hurt like a bitch) and storming out of the studio, but he huffs loudly and turns away. “black. sanji black.”

zoro hums carefully and slowly inches his way to the corner of the room, setting his duffel down much gentler than he normally does. he should really leave this alone. he has a solo he needs to practice for and dinner to catch after. so what if sanji renounced his supposedly royal last name? it didn't make him any better than every other stuck-up dancer with a superiority complex.

(he decidedly doesn’t leave it alone, because this is the first time that he’s seen cracks in the blond’s porcelain-doll facade, and he can’t help but want to dig his fingertips in and pry. he’s never claimed to have a sense of self-preservation.)

“so…” he starts, facing the barre that he’ll never use and watching sanji through the mirror. “your parents—”

“not my parents, i’m estranged,” sanji cuts in, blunt and terse, emotionless to the point where zoro knows he cares much, much more like he wants to seem like he does.

he watches sanji sit in the middle of the wooden floor and fiddle with the elastics on his weird sock shoe hybrids, going into splits with no apparent effort and pressing his torso flat to the ground. a bright blue eye meets his and zoro looks away sharply, yanking on the zipper of his duffel and grabbing his snapback to pop the closures just to look busy.

…god, fuck, zoro wants to ask so bad. estranged. that word is rapidly reshuffling his worldview regarding the man currently yanking off his knitted leg warmers behind him and tossing them to the side. he wants to know how much of all of it is real; the money, the rumours, the gleaming reputation that surrounds sanji like a shield. he’s their academy’s golden boy and a shoo-in for the principal position at its sister ballet company, once he graduates. zoro had thought of him as an absolute primadonna— put bluntly, a pompous brat. a classic silver spoon child. but even just sitting here and stewing in his thoughts, the ability to cling onto the image he’d admittedly half made up in his head is rapidly slipping away from him.

it’s painfully obvious that sanji can talk the talk and walk the walk. jump the jump? “hey, what was that spinny jump thing you did just now?” jesus christ. zoro winces; his voice is so loud against the silence that he nearly puts his head in his hands.

“mm?” sanji’s voice isn’t even strained as he sits up from where he’d had his face pressed to his knees, forearms around his feet. how a person could even fold that far forward, zoro would never understand.

“the— the jump thing. when i came in.”

“oh, the double entrelacé?”

zoro squints. “the fuck kind of name is ontrolassay?”

“it means interlace in french, you—” the blond seems to struggle with choosing an insult before he finally lands on, “—goonhead. although i wouldn’t expect you to be able to appreciate it.”

the KT tape on zoro’s calf rolls back at the edge as he rubs over it absentmindedly, and he quickly stops. that shit isn’t cheap. but he’s more concerned about why he'd been doing it in the first place, because he only does that when he thinks, and zoro has enough self-awareness to know that when he thinks too hard it usually doesn’t end well. he’s all instinct— and something in the back of his mind is telling him that sanji is tired.

the blond isn’t just a pretty boy with no bite, that much is obvious. but now, with the sky dark outside the full-length windows and the air still and silent, it’s easier for him to see the weariness that sanji hides with all his fawning and flirting and smiles. he eyes the other man in his peripheral and clocks it settled bone-deep in the weight of sanji’s eyelids, the parting of his hair, the curve of his back.

he turns around properly to look at sanji over his shoulder and thinks, ah, fuck it. he’d been late to begin with and he’s spent so long here fiddling with his fucking hat under the guise of doing something important that half of his hour-long slot is gone, anyway. “the crew and i are going for pizza. come with.” a smirk pulls at his mouth as he cocks his head. “or are you gonna die if you eat something other than rabbit food?”

the blond looks up with an arched brow and a scowl. “you fucking wish,” sanji scoffs, but after a moment he gets up and starts tossing things into his bag. “it better be makino’s. arlong’s pizza dough tastes like sardines no matter what you get.”

zoro would have been impressed if sanji knew any neighbourhood pizza places to begin with, but this sounds like he has experience. “of course it’s makino’s, curly. we have standards.”

“i wouldn’t have known,” sanji sniffs delicately. “and curly?”

“yeah.” zoro shrugs, the strap of his bag digging in over his baggy tee as he stands. “your hair, your brows, your spinny jump thing—”

“double entrelacé.”

zoro makes a like i said gesture with his hands, grinning broadly. “spinny jump thing.”

sanji sighs as he tosses his hair out of his face. zoro gets a glimpse of two sapphire eyes, blue as the heart of a flame. “you’re a barbarian.” the blond shoulders him aside and snaps the lights off, pulling the door shut as he fishes out the keys. “and you’re buying.”

zoro hums non-committally and deliberately neglects to mention that makino’s fond of both luffy, his best friend, and luffy’s godfather shanks— which means that the whole crew basically eats free on late weekdays like these. on a side note, shanks has a thing with his own dad, mihawk, but they refuse to admit it. it’s infuriating. maybe he’ll rope sanji into helping to get them together before christmas because he has a bet running with nami and it is not looking good for him.

they walk out into the brisk night air as he flips his snapback onto his head, picking up the pace when he sees sanji shiver. “i drove, c’mon.”

“oh, you’ve been driving,” sanji says airily, raising his brows again as he digs around in his well-loved canvas bag for his cardigan. it’s pink and it’s cashmere, because of course it is. “driving me crazy.”

zoro doesn’t even realise he laughs until after it’s left his mouth and sanji is looking at him with wide eyes, blue, blue and more blue. he clears his throat. “let’s hope i don’t crash, then. did i mention i’m half blind on the left side?”

he cackles as sanji squawks at that, half-terrified and disbelieving, and on the way to makino’s he explains how he’d gotten into a scooter accident with luffy as a kid. (“of course you did,” sanji mutters, rolling his eyes. there’s no malice to it.) his crew’s already waiting for him when they arrive; to his dismay (or is it?), sanji hits it off with them marvellously.

zoro finds out that sanji’s biological family is royal, sure. royal assholes. sanji had run away one day and the bastards hadn’t done a damn thing to make sure he was alright, which, he supposes, made sense considering sanji had literally run away. (he isn't given a reason. he doesn't push.) and yet vinsmoke judge still refuses to let sanji change his name, which means that sanji’s father zeff had never been able to legally adopt him. he pays his own school fees working at zeff’s restaurant; not as a waiter but as a chef, and at this point zoro resigns himself to seeing this guy around a lot more because luffy’s already vibrating with excitement and in this friend group, luffy somehow always gets what he wants. sanji’s in it for the long haul now.

but it doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing anymore. zoro almost feels bad for thinking that sanji had been some kind of spoiled brat the whole time, and isn’t that something? the blond is quick to laugh and hardworking and snarky and proud, yes, but it’s deserved solely based on how much he’s trained to get to where he is— he’s damn good and he knows it, and zoro can appreciate that.

(he takes that last bit and shoves it into a box that he locks up tight and buries deep, deep down. he will Not be thinking about that tonight.)

he’s impressed all over again as he watches the sanji inhale an entire four cheese pizza and five garlic knots to boot, and he laughs when the blond gives him a petulant glare.

“fuck off, marimo, i’ve been training all day. m’fucking starving,” he groans through another mouthful of garlic and cheese, elegantly hiding his mouth behind his hand.

oh, hell no. “marimo?” zoro deadpans. “really?”

“not inaccurate,” nami hums from beside him, and he nearly smacks his forehead to the table. he cannot let these two get along. that would be the beginning of his own personal hell.

it’s too late. “small and green and fluffy,” sanji coos, faux-condescending as he reaches out to pet zoro on the head, and zoro snaps his teeth at slender fingers. he listens to sanji meld effortlessly into his friend group and wonders just what he's gotten himself into.

(there is warmth blooming between his ribs. he knows it will grow no matter what he does.)

they get closer as the weeks go by. zoro learns that sanji hates oregano with more vitriol than should be possible towards a herb. he learns the blond’s favourite brand of dance shoes (he knows that they’re suede slippers now, considering he got beaten over the head with them). he learns that sanji’s left arm never healed completely right from where his oldest brother snapped it when they were children, and he has to dig his nails into his palm so that he doesn’t punch something. sanji drags him into an empty studio one day and tells him to lift his leg as high as he can, which devolves into a stretching session that zoro is more inclined to call torture. sanji is adamant that having at least some degree of flexibility will help him dance more fluidly and loosen up his muscles. zoro tells him to eat shit.

(he goes home, and stretches, and he’s mad as hell because sanji’s right.)

the whole crew goes to the ballet course’s end-of-semester recital and nearly gets kicked out with how loudly they scream when sanji finishes his presentation. zoro throws a rose along with everyone else and pretends that he doesn’t.

(sanji pretends that he doesn’t find the exact one zoro tossed and press it to his nose as he sits in the dressing room backstage, his classmates bustling around him not enough to break his bubble of makeup mirror lighting and silky red petals and the memory of keen grey eyes, watching from the darkness of the audience seats.)

(zoro had been the first one to stand when he’d bowed. he’d cheered the loudest. sanji saw him. sanji heard him.)

zoro doesn't realise how much he talks about sanji until his sister threatens to peel the skin off his face if you don't ask him to come watch nationals, zoro, i swear to all that is unholy— and he shudders. perona is... terrifying. he also loves her terrifyingly much, but that won't stop her from peeling his face off, so he drops sanji a text with the details of the national finals of the dance battle that he was supposed to be training for that fateful day. he's too chickenshit to do anything else. too much of a coward to ask him face-to-face.

they win. their friends and family flood the stage. zoro looks for one face only. he feels a hand on his shoulder, whips around with his heart pounding and oh, he's here. radiant under the stadium lights, hair gleaming like brazened honey, eyes bluer than the sky and his smile even brighter. zoro opens his mouth to say something. anything.

sanji crashes into his arms and kisses him, and he feels like the fucking king of the world.

(the wolf-whistles only register when he realises sanji's legs are wrapped around his hips, his hands beneath strong thighs, but sanji is flushed so brilliantly pink and he looks so happy that zoro doesn't even care. luffy's elbow loops around his neck, nami crashing into his back, usopp coming in fast from the right, and sanji wiggles down to slide his arms around zoro's waist and tuck right up against his side. the trophy shines in his fist as he raises it high above the crowd and his nakama press in tight around him, and zoro screams and cheers with them until his throat goes hoarse.)

(mihawk and shanks get together three days later. sanji and zoro split the money nami begrudgingly forks over and then buy the whole crew pizza.)

[15-lizards]

Friend was making me watch dance moms and I was relieving my ballerina days so here’s an ASOIAF dance studio AU for the soul

-Sansa is definitely one of the best at her studio she is the Lyrical queeennnn. One of the few competition dance girls who trains in ballet and is actually good at it. She doesn’t have insane flexibility but her technique is peak and she’s great at turn sequences. Always very consistent and stable. Gets mad when they have hip hop pieces cause she’s not good at it. Likes recitals more than competitions because she can do ballet more, tends to like the French style. Hair always sprayed and smoothed into a perfect bun even if she’s just going to class, not a single flyaway to be seen. Keeps a neat dance bag that she keeps her entire life in.

-Arya is only in there because Cat thought it would be cute to have the girls dance together. Immediately got proven wrong but she already paid for the full year so. DESPISES the slow ballet and contemporary pieces. Is a fucking prodigal jumper she can do switch leaps, ariels, toe touches, literally anything. Which means she likes the upbeat jazz and hip hop numbers wayyy more. Never has a neat bun it’s a miracle it can be tamed when she goes on stage. All of her tights have runs and rips up the sides. Stains on her leotard. Brings a Gatorade to class instead of a water and gets yelled at for it. Hides in the bathroom during ballet class.

-Dany has pretty good technique, nothing standout, but makes up for everything with her energy and facials. She’s got definite potential, but is unrefined. Pretty muscular and short because she used to do gymnastics. Really likes to try anything. Ballet, lyrical, jazz, contemporary, acro, hip hop, truly everything. Consistently places third in competitions, which pisses everyone else off because they think her technique isn’t very strong, and pisses her off because she wants to place first for once. Is currently working her ass off at the barre to focus on her basic technique, is improving at a rapid pace. Dance bag smells like actual ass, you can find probably anything in there though. Doesn’t wear any padding in her pointe shoes bc she’s kind of a psychopath.

-Marg is the top girl 100% she’s the teachers favorite. Every lead role and center position is hers. Sansa’s biggest competition but they’re such good friends and so nice to each other neither of them really cares. Focuses mostly on a slower Russian style of ballet, perfect for her long legs and arms. Every move is just so intentional and perfectly placed, she flows so well from step to step. Definitely is getting countless offers from academies, professional companies, and summer programs. Alwaysss has the cutest most expensive leotards and skirts. Makes sure to pull some of her curls out of her bun to frame her face. Makeup on during class that she somehow never sweats off. Usually super sweet but tends to be passive aggressive to other studios at competitions.

-Cersei who runs the rival studio, used to be a famous competition dancer, excelled at lyrical and contemporary. Makes all of her dancers take rigorous ballet, even if they’re just competition dancers, super adamant ab ballet as the basis for everything else. Notoriously insane with a hair trigger temper, but parents keep paying out the ass for her to train their kids because she produces results. Probably throws things if you fall out of a turn. Makes kids do pushups if they miss a step. Coddles Joff, Myrcella, and Tommen though, makes sure they always get good spots and roles. Jamie’s there to teach partnering sometimes but he always looks miserable and smells like cigarettes.

-Joffery is one of those insufferable tweens who gets special attention bc he’s a guy, a rare species in the dance world. But what’s even more infuriating is that he’s really good. Great flexibility, and focuses on big jumps and turns like most male ballet dancers do. Genuinely an enrapturing performer but never has any patience for his pas de deux partners, blames it on her if she gets dropped. A mean gay but no one’s really sure if he’s gay or not. Has a posse of tween girls that make fun of everyone not in their clique. Makes snide comments at the barre. Ridiculously cocky even when he falls out of his turns. Barges into the girls dressing room without asking. Demon child.

Bonus: Robb who has to take it because the football team needs to work on their balance or whatever. Really enjoys it actually and will defend it when Theon calls it gay. But don’t ask Theon why he kept staring every time Robb started stretching at the barre

[fizzigigsimmer]

Question for you regarding your ballet au… how long does it take them each to realise they’ve fallen in love with the other and how long before they admit it to one another? Oh! And when is it set? Is it modern day?

I change my mind on the time period every single day anon lol, so this may change by the time I sit down and write it out but right now I am thinking it’s a modern au. The thing that sold me on that was an instagram reel from one of the dancers I follow (my Billy inspiration). It sounds sappy as hell, and it is, but it was just this montage celebrating the end of a year, full of personality and all these cute moments with his friends/family. It struck me how unapologetically queer and happy it was, and I immediately wanted that for Billy & Steve. Like yes, there’s the growing pains of high school, coming out, and figuring out their lives, but then it culminates in this beautiful life they get to build together without shame or remorse, full of music, dance, friends and found family. lol It’s what they deserve 👏🏾.

But before they are young hot professionals living it up in a city somewhere, they are messy high schoolers and it’s a slow burn. Steve is one of those “straight” guys with a chip on his shoulder about how not all danseurs/ballerinos are gay. It’s a very demanding and masculine art form! 🤪 Mostly because his dad is a dick who resents the fact that he only had the one son and he’s a total mama’s boy. Billy has an entire brick ready to throw at anyone who looks twice at his sexuality, and Neil makes Steve’s dad look an ally. Between that and their super competitive natures it takes them awhile to reach a truce and stop antagonizing each other. Billy knows first, that he’s in love because he’s been grappling with his sexuality ever since his first real crush - which was on Steve back when they were childhood penpals. He stopped writing Steve because his feelings got too big for him and Neil was starting to make comments. So for him, after he and Steve become friends it’s a matter of letting go of the walls he’s built around himself and admitting he’s falling for him all over again.

But it’s not safe for him to be out and Steve’s straight so there’s no point in saying anything. Right?

[belivinginyourselfistherealmagic]

Diakko Ballet 🩰✨️

Closeups under the cut

[marianne-rogue]

Arcane League of Legends Dance AU

come on.

Caitlyn Kiraman and Jayce Talis stars of a Ballet Compagny called the Piltover Academy of Arts. Viktor, a disabled modern jazz dancer with breakdance Roots and other folk dances. Vi, Ekko and Jinx, street dancers at different rival clubs and crews with serious gang beef backgrounds.

A cultural partbership between local associations and the Big Academy where prejudice make them all anxious and wary of eachother, but DANCE is a universal langage.

The story writes itself guys. GUYS.

[chansdoll]

황현진 & 한지성 ─── pas de trois 2

♡ pairing ៸៸ ballet dancer!hyunjin x ballet dancer!jisung x afab!reader ៸៸ genre ៸៸ love triangle, ballet academy au៸៸ cw ៸៸ SMUT! oral (m & f rec.), protected p in v (..finally) ♡ synopsis ៸៸ in the world of ballet, every step is choreographed—but love never follows the script. what happens when you get accepted into the ballet academy of your dreams? MAKE SURE YOU READ PART ONE FIRST (HERE) a/n ๑ finally a new part.. im sorry i had u guys waiting so long. there are many more parts to come tho hehe ♡ masterlist

hyunjin’s studio apartment was surprisingly neat—not at all what you expected from someone with his reputation. the space was minimalistic but stylish, with warm lighting that made the place feel inviting. the walls were lined with framed photographs, some of breathtaking cityscapes, others of dancers frozen mid-motion. a large, full-length mirror leaned against one wall, and in the corner sat an electronic keyboard with sheet music scattered across the top.

your gaze flickered to a collection of candles on his coffee table, their soft vanilla scent filling the air. the place wasn’t just clean—it was carefully curated, intimate in a way that made you feel like you were stepping into a side of hyunjin not many got to see.

“you can sit, if you want,” hyunjin called from the kitchen, already unpacking the groceries from his bag. “i’ll get started on the pasta.”

you hesitated for a moment before moving to perch yourself on one of the stools by his counter, watching as he pulled out a cutting board and some vegetables. he moved effortlessly, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his fingers quick as he sliced cherry tomatoes with precision.

“i didn’t know you could cook,” you remarked, resting your chin in your palm.

he let out a small chuckle. “i wouldn’t call it ‘cooking.’ just throwing some stuff together and hoping it turns out edible.”

you hummed in amusement, still letting your eyes wander over his apartment. there was something strangely comforting about being here, despite the fact that you barely knew him.

hyunjin reached for a bottle of wine from his counter, eyeing you as he popped the cork. “you drink, right?”

you blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “oh—yeah. sometimes.”

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he grabbed two glasses. “good. because wine and pasta go together like…” he trailed off, considering his words as he poured. “like dance and music.”

you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness, but took the glass he offered nonetheless. he clinked his against yours with a soft ting before taking a sip.

“so,” he leaned against the counter, watching you over the rim of his glass. “tell me something about yourself.”

you raised an eyebrow. “like what?”

he shrugged, twirling his glass between his fingers. “something i wouldn’t know just from looking at you.”

you pursed your lips, thinking. the truth was, you weren’t sure why hyunjin had invited you here in the first place. was this just his way of being friendly, or was there something more to it?

after a moment, you finally answered, “i used to be terrified of performing.”

hyunjin tilted his head, intrigued. “really?”

you nodded. “yeah. when i was younger, i almost quit ballet because i hated being watched. but i stuck with it because… i don’t know, i guess i love dancing more than i fear it.”

a flicker of something crossed his eyes—something understanding. “that makes sense,” he murmured.

you took a sip of wine, eyeing him over the rim. “your turn.”

hyunjin grinned, setting his glass down. “alright. i used to want to be a painter.”

you blinked in surprise. “really?”

“yeah. before dance took over my life, i used to sketch all the time. still do, sometimes.”

your gaze flickered around his apartment, taking in the personal touches—the framed photos, the carefully arranged decor. somehow, that didn’t surprise you.

“you should show me sometime,” you mused, watching as he smirked and turned back to the stove.

“maybe i will.”

the smell of garlic and butter filled the apartment as hyunjin moved effortlessly around the small kitchen, his movements fluid, almost like a dance in itself. you watched as he stirred the pasta, then reached for a jar of chili flakes, sprinkling a pinch into the pan.

“you like spice?” he asked, glancing at you over his shoulder.

you shrugged. “depends. are you trying to impress me with your cooking skills or scare me off?”

a low chuckle escaped his lips as he turned back to the stove. “a little of both.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile forming on your lips. the wine was already warming your cheeks, making you feel looser, lighter.

after a few more minutes, he plated the pasta, setting the dishes on the counter before sliding into the seat next to you. “moment of truth,” he said, watching as you twirled some of the spaghetti around your fork and took a bite.

the heat of the chili mixed with the richness of the butter and parmesan, creating a perfect balance of flavors. you blinked, surprised. “okay… not bad.”

hyunjin grinned, taking a bite himself. “not bad? that’s the best compliment i’ve gotten all week.”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head as you reached for your wine glass. the two of you ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft hum of music playing from a speaker in the corner of the room.

eventually, hyunjin leaned back in his chair, studying you. “so, be honest with me,” he said, his tone a little more serious now. “what do you think of the company so far?”

you hesitated for a moment, twirling your fork between your fingers. “it’s… intense,” you admitted. “i knew it would be, but i didn’t realize just how much until i got here. some days, i feel like i’m barely keeping up.”

hyunjin nodded, as if he understood exactly what you meant. “it’s tough. the standards are brutal.”

you swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “the director already called me in once. told me my turnout isn’t where it should be. if i don’t improve by the workshop…” you trailed off, not wanting to say the words out loud.

hyunjin set his glass down, his gaze unwavering. “i’ve seen you dance. the director’s an idiot.”

you let out a soft scoff. “you’re just saying that.”

he tilted his head slightly. “i’m not. you remind me of myself when i first joined. if he can’t see how hard you’re working, how passionate your dancing actually is, he’s missing out.”

a small warmth spread through your chest at his words.

hyunjin watched you as you took another sip of wine, his gaze flickering between your lips and the glass in your hand. the atmosphere in his apartment had shifted slightly—something unspoken lingering in the air between you both.

“here, let me top you off,” he murmured, reaching for the bottle before you could protest.

you watched as the deep red liquid filled your glass once again, the warm buzz already settling into your veins. “you trying to get me drunk?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

hyunjin smirked, leaning his chin on his hand as he studied you. “if i was, would that be a bad thing?”

you scoffed, shaking your head as you twirled your pasta with your fork. “you really live up to your reputation, don’t you?”

he feigned innocence, placing a hand on his chest. “me? what kind of reputation?”

you gave him a pointed look. “you know exactly what kind.”

hyunjin chuckled, leaning in just a fraction closer. “and yet, you still agreed to have dinner with me.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off before you could.

“which means, either you’re not as scared of me as everyone says you should be…” he trailed off, his fingers grazing the stem of his wine glass. “or maybe... you’re a little curious.”

a heat crept up your neck at his words, but you refused to let him see you falter. instead, you took another slow sip of your wine, meeting his gaze over the rim of your glass. “or maybe i just really wanted pasta.”

hyunjin laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “alright, i’ll give you that one.” he took a sip of his own drink, his eyes still fixed on you. “but you know, you’re not as quiet as i thought you’d be.”

you furrowed your brows. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugged, swirling his wine. “the shy, hardworking girl who’s always focused in class? that’s what everyone says about you.”

you tilted your head slightly. “and what do you think?”

hyunjin leaned in just a little more, his voice dropping slightly. “i think there’s a little more to you than what everyone sees.”

your breath hitched slightly, but you forced yourself to play it cool. “you’ve barely been around me.”

“doesn’t take long to notice things,” he mused, his eyes flickering down to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze again.

your fingers tightened around your fork, your heart doing something strange in your chest. there was no denying that hyunjin was charming—dangerously so. and yet, despite knowing exactly the kind of guy he was, you couldn’t ignore the way your pulse quickened under his gaze.

he smirked again, clearly sensing your hesitation. “i make you nervous, don’t i?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you reached for your wine again. “please.”

hyunjin chuckled, watching you with amusement. “right. my mistake.”

the two of you continued eating, the tension between you both still lingering but wrapped in an odd sense of ease. he was bold—flirtatious in a way that felt like second nature to him—but there was something else beneath it, something unreadable in the way he watched you.

after the two of you had finished eating, you remained perched on the stool at the kitchen counter, swirling the last of your wine in your glass as you watched hyunjin move about. 

he worked methodically, rinsing off plates and stacking them in the sink, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the toned muscles of his forearms. every now and then, he would glance at you—subtle, fleeting—but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

the soft hum of the music playing from his speaker mixed with the faint clinking of dishes, creating an oddly intimate atmosphere. you took another slow sip of your wine, feeling the warmth of it settle in your veins, clouding your thoughts just enough to let your worries slip away. the stress from the academy, the constant pressure, even the nagging thoughts of jisung—all of it faded into the background.

but something else had begun to take its place.

there was an unmistakable tension hanging between you and hyunjin, thickening with every glance he sent your way, with every movement of his body as he worked in front of you. his fingers brushed the edge of the counter as he leaned slightly, his sharp jawline catching in the dim light, his lips parted just so as he exhaled. it was intoxicating, and whether it was the wine or your own undeniable attraction to him, you could feel the heat building inside you.

you shifted slightly on the stool, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to ground yourself, but it only made the sensation worse. hyunjin noticed—of course he did. he smirked to himself as he dried off a plate, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was reveling in the effect he had on you.

“so,” he finally spoke, his voice smooth, teasing. “enjoying yourself?”

you blinked, your lips slightly parted as you tried to regain your composure. “yeah,” you managed, setting your glass down carefully. “i think the wine is hitting me a little.”

hyunjin chuckled, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder as he sauntered closer. “i can tell.” he leaned against the counter, tilting his head slightly as he studied you. “you get a relaxed when you drink.”

you swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly small under his gaze. “is that a bad thing?”

he smirked, his fingers grazing the rim of his own wine glass. “not at all.”

there it was again—that charged energy between you, like a live wire waiting to spark. and the way he was looking at you now, his dark eyes drinking you in, made you wonder if you really wanted to resist it.

as hyunjin set the last dish aside, he dried his hands off leisurely, his gaze flickering toward you. you sat perched on the barstool, wine glass delicately balanced between your fingers, your legs crossed, your body language just relaxed enough from the alcohol. you looked soft under the dim glow of his apartment lights, a little dazed, a little too beautiful for your own good.

he took his time walking around the counter, his movements slow and deliberate. when he reached you, his fingers brushed over yours, warm and lingering, before he fully took your hand in his. his thumb smoothed over your knuckles, sending a small shiver down your spine.

“you’re quiet,” he murmured, voice deep, honeyed. his free hand lifted, trailing lightly along the exposed skin of your arm. the soft, teasing touch made your breath hitch, your body hyper-aware of every movement he made.

his fingers traveled upward, tracing the curve of your shoulder before reaching your collarbone. with an effortless motion, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips barely grazing your jawline as he did so. the intimate touch made your lips part slightly, your breath uneven.

hyunjin smirked. “you’re really pretty, you know.”

the compliment sent warmth pooling in your stomach, but you scoffed softly, averting your gaze. “you probably say that to every girl.”

he chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “would it be so bad if i meant it?” his voice was quiet now, almost coaxing. his fingers trailed back down your arm, slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring the feeling of your skin beneath his touch.

your heartbeat pounded in your ears as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing your cheek before hovering near your own. his breath was warm, laced with the scent of wine, and the proximity made your head spin.

“do you wanna come to bed?” he murmured, the words sending a sharp jolt of heat through you.

you felt your stomach tighten, your skin burning where his hands touched you. the air between you was thick, charged, and when you finally looked up to meet his gaze, there was no mistaking the hunger in his eyes.

for a moment, you hesitated. but then, without fully realizing it, you nodded.

hyunjin’s smirk deepened, his fingers tightening slightly around yours before he took a step back, gently tugging you forward. as he led you out of the kitchen, his grip never wavered, his confidence unwavering.

and with every step you took toward his bed, you felt the weight of anticipation press down on you, your body thrumming with the unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to break just yet.

hyunjin led you through the softly lit apartment, his grip firm yet unhurried as he guided you toward his bed. the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken words, every step sending your heart pounding against your ribs.

when he reached the edge of the bed, he turned to face you, his hand still clasping yours. his dark eyes searched your face, a slow smirk curling his lips as he reached up, fingers tracing along your jawline with featherlight precision. 

“you’re nervous,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with something teasing, something knowing. 

you swallowed hard, your breath shallow as he stepped closer, eliminating what little space remained between you. his scent—clean, warm, and intoxicatingly familiar now—wrapped around you, making your head feel light.

“i’m not,” you lied, though the way your fingers twitched at your sides betrayed you.

hyunjin chuckled, the sound deep, smooth, almost predatory. “liar,” he whispered.

before you could protest, his fingers tilted your chin up, his touch achingly slow, deliberate. his eyes flickered from yours to your lips, and then, without another word, he leaned in.

the first brush of his lips was soft—almost too soft, as if he were testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away. but when you didn’t, when your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered shut, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

his lips moved against yours with practiced ease, coaxing, teasing, yet still leaving space for you to respond. the warmth of his mouth, the way he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, sent a sharp wave of heat through your entire body.

hyunjin's other hand found your waist, fingers pressing gently against the fabric of your shirt, grounding you as he pulled you further into him. the sensation of being so close, of feeling the warmth of his body against yours, made your stomach twist into knots.

he was intoxicating, and the worst part was—you didn’t want to stop.

when he finally pulled away, his lips lingering just above yours, he exhaled softly, his breath mingling with yours. his hand remained at your waist, his thumb grazing small, absentminded circles against your hip.

“not so nervous anymore, huh?” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher.

you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze—intense, amused, and something else entirely.

and for the first time that night, you let yourself smile. “shut up.”

hyunjin grinned, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip as if committing the feeling to memory. “make me.”

his lips were on yours once again, igniting a fire of desire within you. he sat on the edge of his bed, pulling you towards him as he guided you to straddle his waist. his large hands found your thighs, kneading and caressing the soft flesh with precision. in a bold move, his fingertips dared to slide under the fabric of your skirt, sending shivers down your spine.

his soft, delicious lips grazed off yours, trailing along your cheek, jaw, and neck. the sensation made you let out a soft, breathy moan, unable to contain the pleasure he was giving you. with calculated movements, he maneuvered his head lower and kissed the exposed skin in the opening of your shirt. his lips fit perfectly in the dip of your cleavage, making you gasp at the intimate attention he was giving you.

your head began to spin as your skin grew hot from the intensity of the moment. hyunjin, the guy you had always admired and secretly crushed on, was now exploring your body with such fervor that it almost felt too overwhelming to handle.

you nervously chewed on your lower lip as you brought your fingers to the buttons on your shirt. desperate to rid yourself of any barriers between you and hyunjin's touch, you unbuttoned them quickly and tossed the shirt aside onto his bedroom floor. your bra was now exposed for his gaze and he let out a low hum of approval before showering your bare chest with more kisses.

feeling emboldened by his actions and consumed by desire, you fumbled with the clasp on your bra. sensing your struggle, hyunjin reached behind you and swiftly undid it with one hand, revealing your breasts fully to him.

he wasted no time in wrapping his lips around the nipple of your left breast, his warm mouth sucking and nibbling gently while he kneaded the other with his hand. the sensations coursing through you were electrifying as he lavished attention on both breasts, alternating between them before pulling off with a soft wet pop. you couldn't help but whine at the loss of his mouth, aching for more.

before you could protest or beg for him to continue, hyunjin flipped you onto your back and laid you down on the bed. as he sat up to remove his own shirt, you eagerly reached out, running your palms against the toned muscles of his abdomen that you had always adored. he hummed in approval, giving you a small smirk, relishing in your appreciative touch.

your hands trailed down to the bulge beginning to tent in his jeans, and he bucked his hips forward, allowing you to rub your palms against the thick appendage through the fabric. "eager, are we?" he teased with a knowing glint in his eyes, resting a hand on yours. you blushed at being caught in your desires and looked up to meet his gaze. "shut up," you said softly, feeling flustered yet unable to look away from him.

he carefully moved your hand off of him, chuckling deeply. "guess i better get my mouth busy then, hm?" he asked playfully before reaching out and tugging your skirt down along with your panties. you couldn't even form a rebuttal as he gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed before kneeling before you. your stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves as reality finally set in that this was actually happening between the two of you.

he effortlessly spread your legs, marveling at your flexibility. his lips danced carefully around your core, softly kissing your inner thighs on both sides before reaching the top of your mound. the anticipation and teasing were almost painful, as you squirmed and whined under his touch. your body was so incredibly responsive, and he knew exactly what you needed.

with a chuckle, he finally gave in to your begging and leaned in, his warm tongue eagerly tracing from your entrance to your swollen clit. he moaned at the first taste of you, savoring every drop. but soon, his need for you took over and both of his hands were kneading your inner thighs, pushing them down against the bed as he devoured you with more fervor.

you were a moaning mess, completely lost in pleasure. gripping onto the sheets for dear life, you could barely control yourself as hyunjin's strong hold on your legs kept them from shaking and clamping around his head. 

his lips were wet and hot against your sensitive clit, drawing out a moan that echoed through the room. your body curled in pleasure as he continued to suckle and tease, his skillful mouth coaxing out your juices and leaving his pretty lips and chin glistening with your essence. your brows knitted together in pure ecstasy as you cried out loudly, unable to control the bucking of your hips as they rose up to meet his face. every nerve in your body was on fire, craving more of his intoxicating touch.

“h-hyunjin, p-please, don’t stop,” you gasped, feeling the familiar ache building between your legs. you gripped his head tightly, entwining your fingers in his soft hair as you guided him to exactly where you needed him. his tongue swirled expertly against your throbbing clit, sending shivers down your spine and straight into your core. a low purr rumbled from his throat as he worked tirelessly to bring you to the peak of pleasure.

and then it hit you like a tidal wave. a strangled cry tore from your lips as your orgasm washed over you, consuming every inch of your being. your whole body shook on the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through you. as you threw your head back in bliss, you missed the sight of hyunjin's dark eyes watching you, his own satisfaction evident in the small smirk playing on his lips. he had reduced you to a quivering mess with just his touch, and he reveled in the power he held over you.

with every lick and kiss to your throbbing clit, a wave of pleasure rippled through your entire body, causing your legs to tremble and your breath to come out in short gasps. as you reached the peak of your orgasm, you let out a high-pitched whine of overstimulation. finally, he stood up and wiped his chin with his thumb, his expression filled with satisfaction.

as you sat up on the bed, he leaned down and captured your lips in a passionate and eager kiss. you could still feel the tingling sensations from your climax as you opened your legs once more, inviting him to stand between them. with trembling hands, you unbuttoned his pants, tugging them down, revealing his already hard and throbbing cock. he let out a low groan as it was freed from its tight confines of jeans and boxers. it bobbed in front of you, glistening with precum.

moving closer to the edge of the bed, you leaned down and traced your tongue along the length of his shaft before taking him into your mouth. his hand found its way into your hair, gripping it tightly as he leaned back slightly to watch you work on him with skilled movements. every moan that escaped his lips only fueled your arousal even more.

as you pleasured him with your mouth, he reached over and retrieved a condom from the nightstand, signaling for you to pause. your lips were swollen from your shared kisses as you gazed up at him with a wickedly hungry look in your eyes. he stepped out of his jeans and boxers before carefully tearing open the condom wrapper and rolling it onto himself, his anticipation building with each passing second. you slid back on the bed, giving him room to lay on top of you. 

"you okay?" his voice was gentle as he caressed your cheek, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. you nodded, nuzzling his palm with a soft sigh. his smile widened and he knelt between your legs, his body hovering over yours.

you could feel the heat radiating from his skin as he aligned himself at your entrance, his grip firm on your hip. slowly, he pushed inside you, inch by inch, and you couldn't help but groan at the delicious feeling of being filled. his hands held onto you tightly as he penetrated deeper, earning more sounds of pleasure from you.

as he bottomed out, both of you let out a satisfied groan. he felt so good inside you, and with each thrust, you could feel yourself fluttering around him. he began to move his hips in a slow rhythm, catching both of your legs and resting your ankles on his shoulders. "a-ah... fuck," you gasped as he leaned down, angling even deeper.

his thrusts quickened and the bed beneath you creaked with each movement. you clung onto him, unable to control the moans that escaped your lips. "christ," he grunted, using one hand to support himself as he pounded into you. "so fucking tight," he moaned, his cool facade slowly crumbling under the intense pleasure. 

despite being usually sly and confident in other areas, the way you felt around him made him lose all sense of composure. he was completely consumed by the moment, giving into his primal desires as he continued to thrust into you with increasing urgency.

leaning down, his lips met yours again in a frenzy of passion. his tongue danced against your lips, seeking entry and you eagerly let him in, moaning into the messy makeout session. as he pistoned in and out of you, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room, accompanied by your whimpers and moans of pleasure. the feeling of being filled by him was overwhelming, and hyunjin could feel himself getting closer to the edge. he leaned down and kissed your neck again, littering them all over the skin there, and finished with a sloppy, wet one. he nibbled and sucked on that same spot, making you whimper. 

"i'm close," he choked out between thrusts, breaking the kiss to warn you. but he didn't want to finish without you, so he reached down and swiped his thumb over your sensitive clit as he continued to thrust inside you. your loud moans only spurred him on, and he felt your walls clenching around him more frequently, a sure sign that you were close to cumming too.

as your orgasm hit, it sent hyunjin over the edge as well. he buried himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he pumped his release into the condom. the intensity of his climax left him almost collapsing on top of you, but he managed to hold himself up above you as he slowly thrusted, prolonging both his and your pleasure until every last wave had passed through your bodies.

you lay beside hyunjin, the soft hum of music drifting through the dimly lit room as the two of you silently absorbed the weight of what had just happened. his body was warm against yours, his arm draped loosely over your waist, fingers tracing absent patterns on your skin. your head rested on his shoulder, rising and falling with his steady breaths. the moment felt still, intimate, almost surreal.

feeling you shift slightly, hyunjin glanced down at you, his voice low and gentle. “do you need anything? water?”

you shook your head, pulling the sheets closer around your bare body. “no, i’m fine,” you murmured, the afterglow keeping you warm enough.

the quiet, almost dreamlike atmosphere was suddenly interrupted by the sharp ring of his phone. hyunjin let out a quiet sigh before carefully slipping his arm from beneath you and sitting up. he reached for his phone, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on before answering the call.

as he spoke, his voice slightly hushed, you shifted in the bed, reality seeping back in. figuring you should redress yourself, you reached for your scattered clothes, the cool air brushing against your skin as you moved. once you got dressed, hyunjin returned, having just hung up the phone. 

“that was emile,” hyunjin said as he set his phone down on the nightstand, scratching the back of his neck. “apparently, they’re adding another ballet to the workshop.” his gaze flickered over to you, his expression unreadable. “they’re extending the casting.”

a wave of relief crashed over you, momentarily pushing aside your worries. a second chance. maybe this was it. you quickly sat up, the sheets pooling around your waist. “who’s directing it?” you asked, a spark of hope in your voice.

hyunjin shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “no idea, actually. emile didn’t say. just that they’ll be watching class tomorrow.” he offered you a small, reassuring smile. “don’t stress too much about it.”

you let out a quiet huff, shaking your head. “i’ll try,” you muttered, though you both knew it was easier said than done.

as you set your bags down by your bed, celeste’s gaze lingered on you, her curiosity evident. yeji, meanwhile, barely spared you another glance, too focused on perfecting the eyeliner she was testing on the back of her hand.

“you’re home late,” yeji remarked absentmindedly, tilting her head as she examined her work in the mirror.

“yeah, i ran into a friend and lost track of time,” you responded smoothly, hoping to steer the conversation away before it could go anywhere. you toed off your shoes, slipping out of your coat and hanging it neatly beside your bed.

celeste, however, was watching you far more intently than yeji. you didn’t realize it at first, too preoccupied with winding down from the night. “a friend, huh?” she mused, her tone light but undeniably laced with intrigue.

you nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. “yeah, i ended up having dinner with them.”

before you could move away, celeste stepped closer, brushing your hair back from your shoulder as if absentmindedly fixing it—only to pause when she caught sight of the faint but unmistakable mark blooming just below your collarbone. her fingers barely grazed over it, and when you felt her touch, your body stiffened.

a knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “interesting,” she murmured, her voice teasing.

celeste’s smirk deepened as she locked eyes with you, her fingers still resting lightly against your skin. you swallowed hard, knowing there was no way she hadn’t put the pieces together.

yeji, catching onto the shift in energy, finally glanced up from her makeup. “what’s interesting?” she asked, turning in her seat.

celeste didn’t answer immediately. instead, she leaned in just a little, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “did your friend give you this?” she teased, her breath warm against your skin.

your stomach twisted, heat creeping up your neck. you pulled away from her touch instinctively, brushing your hair back over the mark as if that would somehow erase what she’d already seen. “it’s nothing,” you mumbled, reaching for your pajama shirt in an attempt to distract yourself.

yeji’s curiosity piqued at your flustered response. she narrowed her eyes at you before turning to celeste, who was now watching you with a look of pure amusement. “wait,” yeji pressed, setting down her eyeliner. “what are you two whispering about?”

celeste grinned. “oh, nothing. just that our dear friend here happened to come back with a little souvenir from her dinner.” she pointed subtly toward your neck, and yeji’s eyes immediately darted to the spot where your hair barely concealed the mark.

you sighed, already regretting ever stepping foot in this room tonight.

yeji’s lips parted in shock before she let out a sharp laugh. “no way.” she stood up, striding over to get a better look despite your feeble attempt to shield yourself. “who was it?” she demanded, tilting her head. “wait, wait—don’t tell me.” a wicked glint sparked in her eyes. “was it hyunjin?”

you froze.

that was all the confirmation she needed.

“no. fucking. way.” yeji’s voice was somewhere between disbelief and excitement, practically vibrating with scandal. “you slept with hyunjin?”

celeste gasped dramatically, clasping a hand over her mouth before breaking into laughter. “oh my god. you did, didn’t you?”

you groaned, throwing your pajama shirt over your head in record time, officially ending their visual investigation. “would you both keep it down?” you hissed, glaring at them as you climbed onto your bed, pressing your back against the headboard as if that would somehow make you invisible.

yeji ignored your plea, plopping onto the edge of your bed with a devious grin. “are you kidding? this is the best thing that’s happened all week. you have to give details.”

“no, i really don’t.”

celeste climbed up next to you, nudging you with her shoulder. “oh, come on, just a little? was he good?”

you threw a pillow at her, but she dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “i hate both of you.”

yeji smirked. “well, hyunjin doesn’t, apparently.”

your face burned hotter than ever as you buried it in your hands, listening to your so-called friends cackle at your expense.

the next morning, you woke before celeste and yeji, slipping out of bed as quietly as possible to take a shower. the first thing on your mind was the glaring mark on your collarbone—a damning souvenir from last night. you’d die of embarrassment if anyone else noticed it. under the warm spray of the shower, you meticulously scrubbed at the area, even though you knew it wouldn’t just vanish. afterward, you stood before the mirror, layering on concealer with careful precision, ensuring the mark was well hidden. satisfied, you threw on a sweater, pulling the neckline up high enough to serve as an extra safeguard. at least for now, your secret was safe.

despite your successful cover-up, your nerves were already on edge. there was too much to worry about. hyunjin would be in class today—watching you, analyzing you. on top of that, the announcement of a new ballet had left you anxious about the extended casting. what if this was your second chance? or worse—what if it only added more pressure?

you tried shaking off your thoughts as you entered the studio, greeted by the familiar chatter of your classmates. yuqi and lia were already at the barres, stretching, their conversation animated as they laughed about something you had missed. the guys were gathered on the other side of the room, talking amongst themselves. without thinking, your eyes scanned the group, searching for one person in particular.

jisung.

and just as quickly as you spotted him, you realized he had already been looking at you. his gaze was soft, his attention seemingly elsewhere even as felix and minho spoke beside him. he offered you a small smile, one that you reflexively returned, but something about it made your stomach twist. an inexplicable unease settled over you. you pushed it aside, unwilling to dissect it any further.

taking a deep breath, you pulled your sweater over your head, discreetly checking to ensure the hickey remained concealed. you folded the garment and placed it neatly beside your bag before beginning your warm-ups, allowing muscle memory to guide you through each movement.

the room gradually filled with a quiet hum of anticipation as emile and the instructors entered, accompanied by a handful of company dancers. the change in atmosphere was palpable—everyone knew today was important. holding onto the barre, you straightened your posture as the directors settled into their seats along the mirrored wall. then, you saw hyunjin.

your eyes met across the studio, just for a fleeting moment. he offered you a small smile—one that sent your pulse racing despite your best efforts to suppress it. you bit the inside of your cheek, acutely aware of celeste's gaze flickering between the two of you.

emile clapped his hands, signaling for everyone’s attention. the murmuring softened as he stepped forward.

“may i have your attention, everyone?” his voice carried through the studio, commanding focus. “in light of the upcoming workshop, we have decided to add another ballet to the production. it will be manon. i’m sure many of you are familiar with it.”

a ripple of excitement coursed through the room—until the door suddenly opened.

a woman entered.

she was stunning. her pale complexion was near porcelain-like, accentuated by large, doll-like eyes and a cascade of chestnut-brown hair. grace radiated from her with every step she took.

“hello,” she greeted, her voice effortlessly smooth. “i’m so sorry i’m late.”

a collective hush fell over the students. then, scattered whispers.

you blinked, confused by the immediate reaction from those around you. yeji leaned toward you, murmuring under her breath. “what’s she doing here?” her tone was laced with something between disbelief and curiosity. “you’d think after what hyunjin said…”

the realization hit you like a freight train.

madeline picard.

hyunjin’s ex.

your gaze darted toward him, finding his once-calm expression now hardened. his jaw was tight, his entire body stiff as she gracefully made her way toward emile.

“no worries, dear,” emile assured her with a warm smile. “everyone, this is madeline picard. she will be directing manon, our newest ballet for the workshop.”

excitement erupted around you, students clapping and whispering in barely-contained awe. this was an incredible opportunity—working under madeline was something dancers would dream of.

but amidst the celebration, there was only one reaction that stood out.

hyunjin abruptly rose to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor in protest. his face was dark with barely restrained anger. before anyone could react, he turned on his heel and stormed out, the studio door slamming shut behind him.

and just like that, the room fell silent again.

the air in the studio was thick with tension, the excitement over madeline’s arrival now drowned out by hyunjin’s dramatic exit. your eyes remained locked on the closed door, your heart hammering in your chest.

hyunjin had seemed fine just moments ago. but the second he saw her, his entire demeanor had shifted. it wasn’t just discomfort—it was rage.

you swallowed hard, tearing your gaze away to glance at celeste and yeji. the former raised an eyebrow at you, while yeji kept staring at the door, her lips slightly parted. “wow,” she whispered. “that was… something.”

no kidding.

emile, ever the professional, didn’t let the disruption linger. he clapped his hands again, regaining the room’s focus. “let’s settle down, please. we have a lot to cover today, and i’d like to get started.” his voice was calm, but there was a hint of disapproval over hyunjin’s sudden departure.

you forced yourself to look forward, though your mind remained elsewhere.

madeline smiled politely, her hands clasped in front of her. “i’m truly honored to be working with you all,” she said, her voice smooth and poised. “manon is a deeply emotional ballet, and i look forward to seeing how you interpret it.”

emile turned to the pianist, giving him a nod before addressing the class. “we’ll begin with barre work. let’s get to it.”

you went through the motions, gripping the barre and positioning yourself in first position. but your mind was far from the technique.

because hyunjin never came back.

and you couldn’t help but wonder just how deep his wounds ran.

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[lesbianfakir]

doodle sheet of my fakiru fankid (FAKIRU ARE STILL ARO AND/OR ACE TO ME DONT TAKE MY ARO DUCK CROWN FROM ME PLS)

[ID: doodle sheet of my Fakiru fankid, Clara. She has medium brown skin dotted with freckles, blue eyes, and black hair, most frequently pulled into braided loops. The far left doodle shows her as a young teenager wearing the Goldkrone Academy uniform with faint pictures of her parents at the same age behind her for comparison. Next is a closeup of Clara as a young teen smiling. There is a side profile of her as an adult, as well as a drawing of her as a toddler wearing a duck onesie. One drawing shows Fakir as an adult carrying young child Clara on his shoulders. Both glower at the camera with a matching scowl. The final drawing shows an adult Duck en pointe teaching Clara ballet moves. End ID]

Lore under the cut:

hellooo this is Clara (named that because barbie in the nutcracker was my intro to ballet and I wanted to honor it). In this au she's Fakir and Duck's one and only kid. They both have hang ups about parenting but they try their best to be good parents.

I describe Clara as having her father's temper and her mother's stubborness (lots of fighting in that house but they love each other). She has a strong sense of right and wrong and will not hesitate to pick fights when people don't see eye to eye. Despite her loud and aggressive personality, she's a very sweet girl and goes out of her way to help those in need.

After what happened to his parents, Fakir decided to hold off on teaching Clara to read and write until she was a little older and more mature. As a result, Clara fell behind her peers and struggled all throughout school. She resents her parents for this decision, but she becomes more understanding once she beings to understand the scope of what tale-spinners can do. Their fears were indeed founded as when Clara began to write it soon became apparent she'd inherited the writer's gift.

Clara became very athletic as she saw it as one of the only things she could be good at. She also likes to paint as its a "safe" way to express her creativity. Her color I usually draw her in is purple but if she was a traditional magical girl she'd be the red one.