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daydreaming-en-pointe · 9 months ago

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the swan and her princess (part 2)

summary: Swan Lake isn’t all beauty and grace, contrary to popular belief. And you experience firsthand that as you wage a one-sided war with your “rival” for the role of Odette.

chapter summary: A pleasant surprise turns out to be possibly not so pleasant after all.

pairing: Gwen Stacy (Spider-Woman) x fem!Ballerina!Reader [aka some sort of a messy Ballet!AU]

word count: 2695

warnings: cussing, ballet terms, creative liberties taken since I’ve never been to Lincoln Center and the research I’ve done may or may not be fully accurate

a/n: :D got a little carried away with this one whoops doing this is much harder than i expected this au is taking up my entire brain pls help

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 (pending)

glossary:

Barre: A handrail used by ballet dancers to maintain balance while exercising. One hand is placed on the barre at all times, and the dancer stands beside it.

Kitri: The feisty and wilful heroine of the ballet Don Quixote. When her father Lorenzo tries to marry her off for money, she doesn’t play the victim, but hatches a plan to marry Basilio, the charming barber who has won her heart, and pursue her own version of happiness. As a dancer’s role, Kitri is athletic and demanding. Kitri wears striking red costumes (look them up, they’re really beautiful) and gestures expressively with a fan in a nod to her Spanish heritage.

Don Quixote: Don Quixote is a ballet in three acts, based on episodes taken from the famous novel Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes.

Kurta: A loose collarless shirt/dress of a type worn by people in South Asia, usually with a salwar, churidars, or pyjama.

Dupatta: A length of material arranged in two folds over the chest and thrown back around the shoulders, typically with a salwar kameez. Usually worn by women from South Asia.

Right after you set foot in the studio and dropped your bag in the corner, you made a beeline for the cacophonous, eagerly buzzing crowd that had formed around the cast list.

You saw a familiar duffel bag and raised your eyebrows slightly. Surprisingly, Gwen had showed up on time. Miracles really did exist.

Murmurs of disappointment and cheers of satisfaction rippled through the dancers in the room as they dispersed one by one, either wearing an expression of genuine excitement or a mask of disguised regret that they hadn’t tried harder or trained longer.

You pushed your way to the front, your eyes immediately darting to the name next to Odette. Your heart sank as you traced over the curly loops and sharper lines of the handwritten letters.

White Swan/Princess Odette : Patricia Roberts.

Pat…?

Sure, she was good, but she was always a little bit too fast for the pieces. She was brilliant at lightning-quick steps in speedy variations, but couldn’t ‘dance like a flowy fairy’, as your ballet teacher said, to save her life.

And the White Swan was all about being slow and sad and graceful.

Your eyes travelled further down the list, going through the roles of Odile, the cygnets, the general swans, and the royals. Each time, you were disappointed. By the time you reached the end of the list, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit anxious. Your name just… wasn’t there.

You were a part of this, right?

The entire class was taking part in this production. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to not be there. Even if it was just as a regular background swan.

“Can’t find your name either, huh?”

You hadn’t noticed that everyone else had broken off into excitedly chattering groups to start warming up and take their places at the barre, leaving only you and Gwen standing and craning your necks up at the piece of paper that seemed to decide your fate in the studio for the next few months.

You shook your head no, earning a sigh from Gwen that lasted longer than it probably should have.

“Well, we could ask Miss Walker, but she’s not here yet. So…” She shifted awkwardly beside you. You tried to observe her from your peripheral vision without being too obvious. She sounded… tired. Exhausted, really, like she hadn’t slept in a few days and then had to run a marathon around the city. She had done a pretty shoddy job of concealing the heavy dark circles under her eyes — which truly was saying something, because her makeup was usually immaculate.

Fuck. You couldn’t believe it, but for a moment you almost felt sorry for her. Well, maybe not just almost.

“Hey, uh… you good?” You winced at your attempt at a nonchalant tone. Gwen turned to look at you like you had sprouted a third head, slight confusion reflecting in her eyes.

You had never noticed them before, but she had nice eyes, honestly. The expressive kind that could show every little shift in her emotions if she didn’t hide it. And right now she looked like she was about to grin or crack a joke, so you fixed a scowl on your face to ward off any amusing thing she might have been gearing up to say.

The smile in her eyes faded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Time to poke the bee’s nest. “You don’t sound—”

You were cut off as the studio doors flew open, and Miss Walker, looking extremely hassled, practically sprinted in. Random strands of hair poked out of her unusually-untidy bun, and her glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She held her phone in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Class, pointes on and everyone to the barre right now, please! Finish your second warmup, I’ll be right with you. Gwendolyn, Y/N, may I have a word with the two of you?”

We’re in trouble, mouthed Gwen with a comically scared, wide-eyed, completely exaggerated expression that was very childish and definitely should not have made you want to laugh. You bit the inside of your cheek to clamp down on your smile.

Your ballet teacher led you both over to a corner of the studio, adjusting her glasses right as they were about to fall off. “Okay, so I have some very good news for both of you. You might have noticed that your names weren’t on the final cast list at all, correct?”

You both nodded.

“As it turns out, you’ve been selected by the School of American Ballet to feature in New York City Ballet’s version of Swan Lake! And not selected for just any role — you girls are playing both Swans!”

The words took a few seconds to register in your mind. The sheer improbability of it all was phenomenal — two mere teenagers chosen to perform by the most prestigious ballet company in the world, to dance alongside some of the best professional ballerinas-in-the-making? This was a dream come true; was any of this real?

“You’re joking,” you heard Gwen say beside you. You felt like you were about to lift off and float all the way to the sky when your teacher just gave a broad, proud smile.

Everything after that was surrounded by a hazy glow of euphoric shock — blurred by excitement and lightheadedness and disbelief. You might’ve blacked out at one point, bracing yourself against the wall while you waited for your vision to clear.

Gwen suddenly narrowed her eyes in a wince, squinting as if she had a headache. “I’m so sorry, I have to go,” She mumbled hastily, before grabbing her bag and slipping out of the studio. And just like that, she was gone. Again.

You and Miss Walker exchanged a look of slight confusion, but she shrugged. “Well, you’re dismissed for today, Y/N. They’re expecting you tomorrow. You know where the company is, right?”

“Yes, miss.” Of course you did, which ballerina didn’t? Of all the best aspiring ballet dancers’ dream companies, New York City Ballet was right up there with The Royal Ballet in London, Paris Opera Ballet in France, and the Australian Ballet in Melbourne. In other words: this was a giant fucking deal and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You’d have to be beyond idiotic to blow it off.

You arrived at Lincoln Center (which housed the New York City Ballet), fresh-faced and a few minutes early. Well, maybe not so fresh-faced, since you could barely sleep because of nerves. Throughout the night, what felt like a million thoughts that were all variations of what if I’m not good enough? and maybe I’m not cut out for this plagued you well into the early hours of the morning.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Gwen, looking annoyingly (and most probably effortlessly) put-together and honestly quite fashionable. Did she have to have such perfect eyeliner? Even her hair tips seemed pinker than usual.

“Wow, you’re early for once,” You tried to load snark into your tone but failed miserably, earning you an insufferably relaxed chuckle from Gwen.

You shook your head and focused on trying to find the ballet company’s actual studio. Lincoln Center was comprised of a complex of buildings in a giant neighbourhood that you had never been in before, and the David H. Koch Theater which housed the New York City Ballet was just one of those many buildings spread over 16.3 acres.

You were lucky you two had arrived early, because it took you ten whole minutes trying to find the theater - because, as it turns out, you and Gwen had entered from a separate entrance from the main one. Finally you entered the studio, and for a while the only sounds were that of your shoes squeaking on the shiny wooden floors.

Something that struck you was just how big everything about it was.

The light fixtures that lined the walls cast yellow light all along the hallway, illuminating everything with a soft glow the colour of honeyed amber. Just walking that corridor made you feel like you were approaching a royal ballroom, floating around in a gown that could put Kitri’s costume from Don Quixote to shame.

You finally saw the door to the studio. Someone was waiting outside — a man in an all-black suit with close-cropped black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. His face broke into a smile as he saw you and Gwen, and without waiting for you to fully make it to the door, he strode forward and clasped your hand.

“Welcome to New York City Ballet! I’m Carlos, the resident choreographer of this company. We’ve been expecting you! Your teacher has informed you of the production we are working on, yes?” He rattled all of this off at full speed in clipped, staccato pronunciations, so fast that it took you a second to register what he was saying.

“Swan Lake, right?” Gwen answered for you.

“Yes, yes. I assume you both know the combinations for both swans?” You nodded maybe a little too eagerly, eliciting a subtle eyebrow-raise from Carlos. “Very good. Come, I will introduce you to Shaoni. She is our support staff, and a former ballet mistress. She taught many young dancers who went on to become famous prima ballerinas. Don’t take her words too seriously; her bark is worse than her bite.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile and pushed open the double doors. Immediately the first thing you saw was a woman wearing a blue kurta with a gold-trimmed dupatta, her dark hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. The thing that stood out most about her was her highly displeased scowl that had her looking like someone had insulted her entire bloodline three times over, spat in her face and then wrecked her favourite tutu.

Forget a simple resting bitch face, this was a prime, next-level display of an I’m-done-with-this-shit-and-I-need-a-vacation expression.

“Good morning, girls. My name is Shaoni Lahiri, you will address me as Miss Lahiri. You’re a bit early; please begin your warmup while we wait for the others. Also, our artistic director wanted to talk to you about your first day, so once he arrives meet him in his office.” Miss Lahiri had just finished her introductory monologue when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a notification.

Her eyes swiped over the lockscreen for a brief second before she tucked it away again, and you could’ve sworn you saw her roll her eyes slightly when she saw the name of the messager. “Mr. Osborn will see you now. The door to his office is in the far left corner of the studio. Try not to get lost, will you?” Even her sarcasm sounded effortlessly annoyed beyond relief.

And just like that, she abandoned you and went over to compare choreography notes with Carlos.

You turned and followed her directions, noticing a polished wooden door near the end wall of the studio. “Hey, wait for me!” Gwen had been busy gawking at the studio and, really, you couldn’t quite blame her. It truly was something else compared to the much smaller one you were used to.

You knocked once and pushed open the door once you heard a voice call out, “Come in!”

The moment the door swung open, you were immediately blinded by the brightest white light you had ever seen. The entire office looked like it had been bleached to within an inch of its life; there were no specks of dust to be seen and everything was neatly arranged in cupboards and on shelves.

“Oh, hello there!” Once your eyes had readjusted, you noticed a man with greying red-brown hair in a crisp suit with a green pinstripe jacket, an orange vest, and black pants. He sat with his hands clasped neatly on the lacquered teakwood desk in front of him, wearing a polite smile.

“You must be the new arrivals, yes? Let’s see, what are your names…” He opened a folder that had been pushed to one side of the desk, flicking through pages. “Gwen Stacy and Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s us,” You answered quickly, feeling slightly giddy with excitement as the truth sunk in properly. This wasn’t a dream, you had really been selected by the fucking New York City Ballet. You would be working alongside some of the best ballet dancers in the area. Better yet, you had more than a fair chance at dancing Odette. Of course, so did Gwen, but you were obviously the better choice… it wasn’t personal, really, just that she barely attended a full class and therefore should probably dance Odile instead.

“Excellent, excellent. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Norman Osborn, the artistic director of this company.” He stood up and shook your hand. He smiled at Gwen, but instead of smiling back, she just dropped her gaze, inhaling sharply as if she had been stung.

“Something’s not right with him,” She murmured to you the moment Mr. Osborn turned his back to retrieve a folder from his filing cabinet. “I can’t explain it, just… please trust me. I think he’s going to be a threat to us.”

You felt annoyance flare up inside you, white-hot maelstroms of anger expanding by the second. “Please excuse us, Mr. Osborn. Gwen and I need to discuss something.” You tried to sound as inconspicuous and well-mannered as you could. You grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and pulled her through the door, closing it behind you.

“Listen here,” You hissed, letting go of her. “I didn’t make it all this way and train for an extra four hours a day for three years just so you could blow this off. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re some sort of a package deal. So don’t you dare make up stuff and tell me this perfectly polite man is a threat. Is this some sort of scheme? You make me get cold feet, pretend like you’re dropping out, then when you convince me to leave the company you swoop in and snatch up the role of Odette? Is that what you’re playing at?”

Gwen stared at you in utter disbelief, rubbing her shoulder where your grip had tightened just a little too much. “What? No, of course not. I would never—”

“Okay, good. Now let’s get back in there and do whatever the hell he wants us to do, because this is the New York City Ballet and we are not leaving till we’re done with this production, got it?”

For a split second, intense desperation marred her features and she looked like she was about to cry. Then, just as quickly as it had come, all the vulnerability displayed on her face disappeared — but not from her eyes. Her mouth and eyebrows were relaxed, cool, but her eyes shone with a feverish light that made her look a bit manic. Finally she took a deep breath and glared levelly at you.

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Something about her tone would have sent a shiver down your spine if you hadn’t been so pumped up about this whole ordeal. You dismissed it easily, penning it, possibly, as the sullen disappointment of a plotter whose evil scheme hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

You entered the office again, Gwen trailing behind you reluctantly, and gave Mr. Osborn a big smile. “You were saying?”

He passed you and Gwen two sheets of paper and a pen. “Sign this. It’s a contract that officialises your stay at this company for the duration of this production.”

You signed it eagerly. Gwen, who was studying the words intently, noticed your impatience and signed it too.

“Perfect,” said Norman Osborn, giving you a big smile. Was it just you, or did it look more plastic this time…?

Nope, definitely just you. He carefully filed the sheets away and clasped your hand in a handshake once again. “Welcome to New York City Ballet. I’m sure this contract will prove to be beneficial to the both of us.”

Gwen dropped her eyes to the floor. Probably just her odd headaches acting up again.

Taglist:

@hobiebrownismygod @l0starl @therealloopylupin2099 @theprismyyy

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carmodance · 11 months ago

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On Christmas morning, a dance studio was destroyed in a 3-alarm fire in Los Alros, California. The roof collapsed and the building was completely destroyed. https://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/los-altos-el-camino-fire/3406574/?amp

Bay Area Dance School is not only a small business and a dance studio but also a safe space. With this fire, dozens of children who dance at the studio on a daily basis are being uprooted from the space where they find community, build discipline, and practice their craft. Our dance community is heartbroken this Christmas.

With the dance competition season around the corner, it's crucial that the dancers are able to continue training. The funds from this GoFundMe will go towards solidifying a temporary space for classes and rehearsals, building a safe studio (sprung floors, Marley, barres, acro mats, mirrors, etc), and covering all other capital expenditures of running a dance studio.

The Bay Area Dance School teachers are truly wonderful dance instructors and the most kindhearted, incredible people. They need all the assistance to rebuild, and no amount is too small. Thank you for your support!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-relief-for-bay-area-dance-school

oh no! that is so very sad. thank you for sharing. What an awful thing to happen on Xmas. I can only be thankful no one was in the building.

Here is the gofundme link for anyone wanting to help or share:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-relief-for-bay-area-dance-school

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miss-mollys-ballet-blog · 8 months ago

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Hello! I see you're an Adult Ballet dancer who started 5 years ago, and that is so encouraging!! I'm a 25yo woman who did ballet from 3-6yo. I'm extremely flexible, physically active, and have long legs. Strangers have asked if I was a ballerina from how I act/look. I want more than anything to do it professionally, no matter how short a career I have in it. Do you have any advice/ as to how to move forward? (even if it isn't possible, I want enjoy what I can of my favorite passion)

Hello and YAY FOR ADULTS STARTING BALLET!!!!

So, I won't lie, you more than likely will never have a professional ballet career as a member of a company. You could possibly become a teacher, but by the time you have enough training to be considered good enough for a company, you'd be at least 35 which is very old for a company dancer. However, I'm glad you won't let that stop you from starting!

The easiest place to start is googling adult ballet classes and find studios near you that offer adult classes. If you're in/near bigger cities, it'll be easier to find classes. Once you find the studio, you can call/email/go in person and talk to them about the classes and see if there are different levels or what. A lot of studios will say "beginner classes" but that typically means at least a year of experience. You'll want to find basic beginner or beginner 1 classes, but those are questions you can ask each studio.

When it comes to adult ballet, the goal is not flexibility at first, it's finding the correct positions and building strength. Don't go into a class thinking you'll be super flexible and have high legs and everything, because if you're doing the correct technique, your flexibility will vastly decrease (more than likely). The muscles used in ballet are very different from other activities, so also prepare to be super sore and exhausted, even from doing basic barre exercises. I recommend watching videos of classes to get a basic understanding of what to expect so you don't go in blind. The Royal Opera House has a lot of good videos, including a Ballet Glossary playlist that I recommend watching: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7E40E6E2DAB561B5&si=VrzgWycIdxDnXgOE

At the end of the day, adult ballet is about working hard and improving while having fun. I hope you're able to find a studio and have so much fun!!!

#ballet ask #adult ballet #ballet

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ko-fanatic · 9 months ago

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Perfection (Chapter one: Breathing)

Rating: Teen and above Pairing: DabiHawks Characters: Touya Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Enji Todoroki, Shoto Todoroki (Mentioned: Natsuo Todoroki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Rei Todoroki) Content warnings: Eating disorders, abuse by authority figures and parents, and depersonalisation/dissociation/derealisation Summary: Touya is a ballerino in training at one of the country's most prestigious schools. Keigo is a hockey player and scholarship student who's somehow managed to barge into Touya's life and make him care about him. But that's fine, they're good for each other, always pushing to improve their grades and get better at their sports. They just have to analyse a novel that Touya can't actually stand, but that's fine. Touya Todoroki is his own person, after all, not some character to be analysed. AO3 LINK

It was as simple as breathing for Touya, the hours of hard work and training to get where he was now. A barre and a mirror, both soft shoes and pointe in pale flesh tones, hands stretching him just that little bit further - little bit better. He went after proper form and poise and grace with all the veracity of a predator chasing prey.

He’d been dancing since the tender age of four, a class he was signed up to in the desperate attempt to get him to socialise like a “normal kid” sparking lifelong obsession. Twelve years and much spilled blood and split nails later, it was still him and the barre. It was still pliés and tour en l'airs and all eight positions.

The difference was he wasn’t a child stumbling through his assemblés anymore. He was a strong, lithe seventeen year old with the spoils of his rampant, manic fixation at his fingertips. He was in a specialist school with enough funding and resources to make his dreams of becoming premier danseur in The Tokyo Ballet Company a possible reality.

Well, he should call it a goal. It was a goal. A dream was something for sad people with no motivation to moon over in the privacy of their thoughts. He was doing everything in his power to climb the ladder and improve everything about himself.

“More height,” His teacher huffed, breaking him from his thoughts, observing his Grande Jeté as if it’d personally offended her.

It probably had.

“Land like an elephant in front of an audience, and they’ll know you are not worth the satin of your shoes,” She continued, her Russian accent thick as she picked him apart, “And Touya -”

“Yeah, yeah,” He huffed, crossing his arms as he cut her off, “You can see my lunch.”

Probably as he had eaten lunch. But that was common sense, and when something came between him and perfect form, that went out the window.

He used the short walk to his duffle bag to catch his breath and steady himself somewhat. Swan Lake’s Siegfried variation (third act) wasn’t exactly lengthy, but it was taxing - particularly when you were made to do it over and over again in the hopes of perfecting the less than two minute long routine. His stomach was beginning to flip with every leap, also.

Perhaps he was actually slightly grateful for the excuse to stop for a minute, he supposed as he pulled his black hoodie over his head. He snuck a split-second drink of water in, also, blinking hard and refocusing himself for the task ahead.

“No, no,” His teacher dismissed as he retook his starting position, “You’ve made Reisinger turn in his grave enough for today. If you need basics, we work on basics.”

Heat flared in Touya’s cheeks at that, his teeth gritting as to not allow himself to spew the venom on his tongue at the Хуй in front of him. She was his ticket to greatness, after all. He insulted her (learned Russian specifically to do so), he gave her attitude and bared his teeth - but he didn’t push his luck.

If he was going to perform like some second-rate hack, then she was going to treat him as such. It was his own damn fault for the humiliation he felt closing up his throat, and so he simply scratched at his forearms as he awaited further instruction, swallowing hard.

“Arabesque,” She ordered with a snap of her long, thin fingers, and Touya complied immediately.

His back was straight, leg lifted behind him with a practised ease and face placidly neutral. Any less control, and he probably would’ve bitten his lip. He knew exactly what was coming.

Holding one hand on his chest, ever so close to his throat, she placed the other around his willowy thigh in a strong grasp. Practice was the only reason Touya gave no visible or audible reaction to what happened next.

She bent his back into an accentuated curve, bringing his thigh up so high that he swore his scapula and femur nearly kissed. His abdominal muscles stretched and his vertebrae and tendons screamed as they were bent beyond his highly trained limits.

The only thing he did was close his eyes, resisting the urge to screw them up unpleasantly. He didn’t dare breathe, so the swelling of his lungs didn’t pull the skin and muscles tighter still.

She simply held him that way, pushing his resistance and flexibility. Testing the strength of his will, his features were practised pleasant. She could break his back, yet it was the job of the danseur to keep porcelain placid. Nothing less was expected, after all, and it could certainly be worse.

“Good,” She nodded after what felt like aeons, but was likely only a minute, “Not completely useless after all.”

He hated that his chest swelled at the back handed compliment the way it would with true praise.

As was usual, this continued on and on for he didn’t know how long. Stretches changed, running through different extensions, splits and all the usual fayre, muscles being pushed to the limit. However much they screamed, however, not a single sound slipped past his lips.

He waited, until she’d deemed the practice enough and released him from his position, legs spread apart and chest touching the floor. He didn’t spring up too quickly, the itch in his brain saying that he had to prove this wasn’t a chore or painful for him outweighing any physical sensation. Instead, his torso rose slowly, watching her with a sharp gaze as she bid him goodbye in clipped tones, her handbag over her shoulder and sensible heels in hand to slip on when outside of the studio.

Touya still didn’t leave. He sat himself up properly, taking a much-needed, deep breath and reorienting himself with the studio around him. The walls were bright white, the sun reflecting off the many floor-to-ceiling windows and directly into his eyes. He barely recoiled, turning his gaze to the floor and blinking hard at the pale, washed out wood below him.

He still had his slippers on, he noted, making start-and-stop movements to take them off before he arrived. The one he’d waited around for in this too bright room, every day after ballet training for the last three months. Takami “Hawks” Keigo.

Appearance-wise, they were complete opposites. Touya was tall and svelte with corded, lean muscle, whilst Keigo was much shorter, barely brushing 5’4”, and built like a brick wall. Keigo was strong on the ground, impossible to knock over, whereas Touya aimed to be as high in the air as humanly able. Touya’s hair was smothered in Blackest Black hair dye, and Keigo’s natural hair was a golden blonde - like sunshine or some other romantic bullshit.

But they got on well. They were both intelligent and quick-witted, both aiming for the stars and chasing those goals with dogged determination. They were both awarded scholarships by their prestigious school because of how well they ran the rat race and improved in their own ways. They debated as they studied, anything from analysing the works of Nakahara or Akutagawa, to politics.

Touya had attempted to argue physics with Keigo, but the other boy was much better with the subject’s practical applications than the more subjective, theoretical side that Touya favoured. Although the difference of skill in different areas was a bonus, seeing how the studying they did whilst hanging out only served to improve both boys’ already stellar grades.

That, and Touya got to just… see Keigo…

Touya bit his lower lip, pushing himself up onto his messy feet, feeling the new bruises overlap the old bruises, but not really caring. He was used to it, after all. It was more important to get himself out of his sweaty shirt and tights before Keigo would arrive. It was probably a good idea to stretch out his overtaxed muscles, also, before he seized and concerned Keigo with his stuttered breath.

Keigo’s hearing was actually insane.

He pulled off his shirt and hoodie at the same time, bundling them up ready to shove in his bag when he got his clean clothes out. Reaching for the bottle of deodorant he kept in his gym bag, he side-eyed his bent over form in those massive mirrors beside him, eyes on the small rolls of skin on his stomach.

Can see his lunch, indeed. Stupid bitch.

He bodily turned so his back was towards the ostentatious things - no more sun in his eyes - and sprayed himself down. He’d have a shower when he got home, but this would avoid stinking up their make-shift study space with BO.

Next, the shoes. The shoes were on their way out after five months of rigorous training, but that wasn’t too unusual for soft shoes. His pointes were falling apart after barely nine weeks. It’s not like his actual feet were any better right now, held together with blister plasters, medical tape, second skin and IcyHot ointments.

The tights slipped off of him easier than they had when he’d first got them, probably from the amount of wear, and he noted a hole in the thigh with disdain. He must have caught it on something whilst going through stretches. Fuck. Those were his favourite, too.

At least they were easier to replace than his shoes. Hopefully, he could keep them together for another week. Put off asking his old man for more stuff for a little longer.

Enji Todoroki was not someone he sought out the company of, if given the choice. Father or not.

He threw his dirtied clothes to the side, a small growl rising in his throat before he could trample it down. Who cared? No one was here but him, after all.

He didn’t spare nearly as much care putting on his casual clothes as he did removing his ballet ones, tugging his ripped jeans on roughly (and, subsequently, putting his foot through one of the many rips and nearly falling on his face - what a graceful danseur). He threw on his spare, baggy hoodie and began shoving his sweaty clothes in his gym bag.

There was no clock in the studio - he still didn’t know why - so he had no clue how close Keigo was to being let out of hockey practice. Or how long he’d been staring at the walls. He just slipped on his socks to avoid Keigo seeing his gross feet and retrieved his school bag from beside the door, rifling through textbooks and notes to find what he needed.

Just in time too, with the creak of the door signalling the other boy’s arrival.

“Hey-o!” Keigo chirped, a megawatt smile on his face and cheeks flushed with the adrenaline spike of beating up his teammates for the past two and a half hours, and Touya’s heartbeat skipped accordingly.

“That your mating call or something, birdbrain?” He huffed, although a smile did pull at his lips as he playfully rolled his eyes, holding up the newest book from his Japanese Lit class, “Come sit down, I’m not reading this depressing, misogynist bullshit by myself.”

“Okay, hotstuff, jeez,” Keigo laughed, and the dickhead’s pretty hair caught the sunlight perfectly as he moved to sit down. Prick.

---

“I have never seen such an inscrutable face on a man.”

Touya flicked his gaze up to Keigo’s face once the reading was finished, curious as to the blond’s reaction to this character. Of course, there wasn’t much, considering they’d only read the prologue. Conversely, everything had been revealed at once.

Dazai uses beginning, middle and something of an end in the prologue alone, making it reductionist and simple. You can interpret the narrator being someone removed from the situation, the use of first person tense present throughout the novel, but this being in reference to photographs of the main character himself...

“Depersonalisation: the novel,” Touya theorises, hand moving in a sweeping movement, as if introducing a circus act. He knows Yozo calls himself a clown, from his baseline knowledge of the book.

“All that, to say he hates himself,” Keigo begins, and if Touya didn’t know what the other boy was doing, he’d have cut him off there, “A whole prologue to say I act insufferably, but won’t ever change.”

It sounds so flippant, like a critique from a lazy student. From a student one might believe Keigo was, just to look at him and ascribe a stereotype, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

No, it’s a push to elaborate. Touya expects people to infer a lot more into his statements than they do. Awkward in real life, disastrous in literature exams. He does try to treat the examiner as an idiot - an interesting piece of advice from his teacher - but it seems idiots are far stupider than he thought. Keigo lures the intent of his thoughts from him rather expertly, not allowing him to stick to the cryptic one-liners that people only listen to maybe half the time.

He’s glad he’s not a character in a novel, one teenagers are meant to read and analyse and criticise.

“Well, it’s a core theme,” Touya shrugs, “You can tell by how the author chooses those particular descriptions. It’s important to give them that level of attention, because the beginning, middle and end are important. The lack of change is important. The knowledge of why and how you’re fucked up, even having some inkling of how to change it, but never implementing those changes. It all just gets worse and worse, yet you stay the same, because you can’t be anything else.”

Maybe he is just a character. The staging is too deliberate, saying these things in a room full of mirrors.

“And if it is someone else?” Keigo asks, “There’s nothing to say it is Yozo looking at these pictures.”

“Then even this stranger seems to have contempt for him,” Touya shrugs, leaning back on the heels of his palms and staring up at the ceiling, away from golden eyes that don’t blink as often as they should, “And that’s pitiable.”

Keigo hums in the back of his throat. They’ve only read the prologue, but he shuts the book and lays it to the side, picking up his notebook.

This one is a dark blue, “Japanese Lit: homework and notes” marked out in neat, small kanji on both the front and spine. Keigo keeps very beautiful notes. Keigo likes notebooks, stationery and organisation. He copies out and gets rid of notebooks that start looking beaten up. He despises mess.

Touya swallows hard and hates the mood literary analysis brings out in him. Did Yozo hate those notebooks being read as much as he hates this feeling?

One ugly child relating to another.

---

Keigo and he stayed another hour, discussing specific turns of phrases used by Dazai. Keigo writes out the quotations in his dark blue notebook to expand upon the meaning there, whereas Touya annotates in the margins. His kanji is somewhat squished into the small space, but that’s fine.

His kanji can deal with it.

When he finally returns home, nearing dinnertime, he’s almost bowled over as soon as he opens the door. As usual, Shoto is the culprit, clinging to his waist so tightly that anyone would think this is the first time they’d seen each other in months.

In reality, they ate breakfast together that morning. Shoto just goes through phases of being clingy, to near-worrying levels. Still, Touya handles it because that’s just what he does for his baby brother. Shoto can cling to his leg as long as he needs, because he can work around it well enough.

It’s nice to be wanted, too.

He just rustles Shoto’s red hair, streaked with stark, poliosis-white. Like his own hair, before he smothered it in dye; although his became more and more white with age.

“Hey, Sho,” He murmurs, reaching around the boy to unzip his boots and step out. As he does so, Shoto stumbles slightly as his brother suddenly shrinks four inches with the lack of platforms.

Shoto doesn’t answer him, and Touya sets his jaw, because that can only mean one thing -

“Touya.”

He looks up, finding a sight that he’s seen a million times over.

His father is an intimidating man, taller and broader than anyone has any right being, and a face that automatically settles into something malcontented. His arms are crossed, eyes narrowed, and Touya sneers in the man’s general direction on reflex.

“You were supposed to be home hours ago,” Enji continued, “We were worried.”

Touya huffs a short, obviously sarcastic laugh at that. Because he knows that Enji likes to pick at him, like some sort of blemish that should be gotten rid of. He’ll scratch and pick until blood wells up and smears everywhere.

On the walls… the carpet… even some on the ceiling… Somewhere, there’s a scream.

“Yet, you didn’t even text me once,” He states plainly, detaching Shoto from his hip but still holding the young boy’s hand, breezing past his father like the man isn’t six foot four and nearly three hundred pounds of muscle, “At least make it believable.”

Enji doesn’t say anything as rebuttal, even as the man shifts his jaw and his eyes narrow further, but that’s not really Touya’s problem. It’s not Touya’s problem unless Enji decides to make it his problem.

“Touya, baby, stay awake. Mommy needs you to stay awake! WHAT DID YOU DO, ENJI?!”

He won’t. Touya’s not even half his weight, and the grown man flinches back first. A few months ago, he might’ve called it pathetic, but now it’s just a fact; neutral, or as near as it can get.

Instead of entertaining his father’s supposed worry, Touya just leads Shoto to the kitchen and lets the little boy shuffle onto one of the uncomfortable chairs. He squeezes Natsuo’s shoulder as he passes, nodding his greeting, but doesn’t actually speak on his way to the fridge.

“Yeah, yeah - you can see my lunch.”

Touya clenches his jaw, swallows down the flood of saliva in his mouth against a flash of sudden nausea, and opens the fridge. Because Touya Todoroki doesn’t acquiesce to what people want; he does what he wants.

The lower shelf is stacked with neat tupperware boxes. On each box, there is a label. Each label follows the same format: [day of the week] (meal) - Touya’s - DO NOT TOUCH.

Meal prepping makes following his rigorous diet plan easier. When he first started, he’d make everything fresh, but that meant more temptations seeped in. Why not add some more butter, more spices? Why not add some dressing? I’m craving croutons, and not the cardboard, low carb ones, real croutons -

He doesn’t do that anymore. He makes all his meals for the week on Sunday night, just after eating dinner so he’s not thinking of all the things normal teenagers can eat. So he’s not thinking of the fried chicken that Keigo probably got on his way home, but his best friend will somehow still manage to make room for dinner!

“Toyomitsu-sensei says it’s good to get every bit of the food pyramid. Fat also helps with shock absorption, so having some padding between your skin and muscle is good when guys are slamming you into walls, y’know?”

But Touya’s not a hocky player, he’s a ballerino.

He takes out the box labelled “Monday (dinner)” and turns back to the table. He sits, he opens the lid as he does every other night, and sees…

A thoroughly uninteresting dinner. Broiled chicken salad, hold the dressing. He has protein, vegetables, and about a teaspoon of sesame seeds in there… somewhere. The tomato fared fine, as did the lettuce, but looking at it now he just… doesn’t want to eat it.

He pokes at it instead. He shifts around strips of chicken and, for a moment, pictures them deep fried and covered in sticky BBQ sauce. The lettuce becomes fries and he just stares holes into the food. His stomach growls. Everything looks like he’s playing some first-person video game, half a second of lag between him clicking the buttons and the character following commands.

He remembers Tomura bitching about that, once, seemingly forever ago.

“Touya, you're drooling on the table!”

“Fuck off.”

It’s an easy enough response, his sister’s disgusted tone grates on his ears and spine, but he does wipe the corner of his mouth with fumbling movements. It comes away wet, but not overly viscous - he drinks water constantly, so that makes sense.

“Gross…” She mutters, like he won’t hear her. If he were as cruel as he wanted to be, he’d want her to live a second in his body, play the laggy, first-person video game, and then maybe she’d understand that he just…

The thought fizzles out, and he’s back to staring at his uninteresting salad.

Shoto makes a small whine beside him, looking down at his own plate, and Touya follows his gaze. It’s a better meal than his own, still full of vegetables and with chicken, but it’s made with… more. It’s made with spices and teriyaki sauce and noodles.

On everyone else’s plate, they’re mixed together; it’s a stirfry. On Shoto’s, they’re separated. They have their own little sections, and his mother even arranged the vegetables in rainbow order, and it looks like something pulled off pinterest, really. Touya’s focus is on how the sauce is swirled over the dish in a circle, and that the mushrooms are touching the broccoli so the juices are getting absorbed.

Shoto always hated his food touching like this, even if their mom tried her best. Before, Enji had followed the advice of “eat or starve”, but that was before. That was before Shoto lost five kilos in the course of a month and nearly fainted at school. Because Shoto can’t eat unless certain conditions are met.

Touya shouldn’t eat unless certain conditions are met. That’s where they differ. Even if the protein shakes in the cupboard above the sink are for both of them.

And their father, but Touya refuses to factor Enji into this.

Instead, Touya simply leans over and fixes the problem as best he can. He scoops up the vegetables that got hit with the sauce, scoops up all the broccoli, and dumps them into his container of disappointment. The noodles should be mostly okay, he hopes. The chicken is touch and go, so he removes that too. The oil leaks from the crispy batter and onto his own blandly pale meat.

For a split second, he considers both shovelling the lot of it into his mouth as fast as he can, and also throwing up into the garbage can in the corner. He does neither, instead pushing the box towards Natsu with the simple command of “Eat up”, before standing once more.

He gets a protein shake from above the sink - vanilla, he only drinks the vanilla, only one bottle left - and heads off to his room.

He passes Enji, in his own seat, looking at him with stunned eyes and a slack jaw as Shoto tentatively brings a single noodle to his mouth. There’s half a moment where either of them could say something - anything - but it passes and Touya continues on. It’s not that important, he just doesn’t want Shoto to go without.

---

Closing the door of his bedroom behind him is a relief. He slumps against the wood, releasing a long breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and feels his shoulders finally drop. His head lolls somewhat, for a minute, and his head feels too full of cotton.

He should fill in his habit tracker. He should listen to some music. He should text Tomura and Shu for the first time in, what, a month?

Instead, he flops onto his bed, and takes small sips of his protein shake. From the end of the room, the mirror reflects his currently shit posture, and the low lighting just exaggerates the dark bags under his eyes. He’s cold, he’s in pain, and he’s hungry - because drinking this shit isn’t the same as eating a meal and he knows that. But it’s fine. Really

After all, ballet is the most beautiful way you can torture yourself, and Touya was nothing if not a porcelain doll with the temperament of a machocist.

#my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #dabihawks #toukei #bnha dabi #touya todoroki #keigo takami #enji todoroki #shoto todoroki #perfection series #my fanfiction

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badaswrld · 10 months ago

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en pointe 🩰 one

bada lee x reader

tw: self harm

♡

“up, up, up!”

your ballet teacher’s voice echoes through your head.

your hands gripped the barre, knuckles turning white as she pushed your leg way too far over your head.

the familiar aching sensation was all you could think of, but you kept your face straight. it was embarrassing enough that she was doing this in front of the whole class.

“does it hurt?” your teacher asked. her glasses were sitting on her nose bridge, her face stone cold.

you stared back at her, expressionless. if ballet has taught you one thing, it’s to never show pain.

“no, ma’am.”

“then why are your extensions so terrible?” she says, dropping your leg back to the floor.

she doesn’t let you answer before she walks away.

you felt the stares of your class, but you refused to look away from the floor, still gripping the barre.

“you all have trained for longer than a decade, why do you dance like you haven’t graduated to pointe shoes?”

everyone remains silent, not wanting to be the target of the teachers rage.

“i don’t care if you’re tired, i don’t care if you’re in pain. i’m tired of seeing carelessness in my class. you cannot afford to be lazy.” she’s nearly yelling by now.

“don’t waste my time.” she says, her gaze lingering on you.

“class dismissed.”

you immediately grab your stuff and speed walk out of the studio, heading straight to the bathroom.

you hold your tears in until you get to the stall, thanking god no one else was in there.

you try to hold it together but you can’t keep it in. you always did fall into old habits.

you hit yourself again and again, your head beginning to feel numb. you’re crying harder now.

you could never be good enough, never flexible enough, never skinny enough. thoughts of quitting went through your head for the thousandth time.

suddenly, you hear footsteps coming closer. someone’s sneakers squeak on the bathroom floor. you abruptly stop your sobs as best as you can.

you hold your breath as the person entered the stall next to you. eventually you had to breathe, and inhaled as quietly as possible.

your hiccups echoed through the bathroom, and embarrassment flooded through you. you decided now was the time to exit. you walked out of the stall and stood at the mirror, wiping your tears.

you were about to leave when a girl walked out of the stall, making eye contact with you in the mirror.

‘dear god can this get any worse,’ you thought.

the girl was very tall and had long black hair with blonde streaks in it. she wore an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, definitely a hip hop dancer.

you immediately broke eye contact with her and scrambled to grab your stuff, your face flushed with embarrassment.

you turned away to leave, but you were interrupted by the sound of a deep voice.

“y/n, right?” you stopped in your tracks, wanting to be invisible. she definitely knew you were crying, and apparently she knew who you were.

you had seen her around before, but you never thought about her, though you found her very attractive.

you slowly turn around.

“how do you know my name?” you ask, before realizing how you sounded. you were successfully fulfilling the stereotype that all ballet dancers were bitches.

the girl slightly smirked. “you’re the only one that gets here before me. i had to ask around.”

“oh…” you say awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know your name.” you say, this time trying to not sound so rude.

“bada.”

you nod, instinctively covering your arms out of shyness, attempting to shrink your figure.

“why are you upset?” she asked, leaning against the bathroom counter nonchalantly.

by this point, you’re so embarrassed you just wanted to disappear.

“it’s nothing.” you shook your head.

“i have to go,” you say, turning away.

“wait,” she says.

you stop again, wanting to snap at her, but you control yourself.

“you’re not wondering why i asked about you?” she says, her head tilted to the side.

“um…” you have no idea how to respond.

“i don’t know.” you finally say, confused.

“because you’re the prettiest ballet dancer here.” bada says.

“pretty girls shouldn’t cry,” she says, walking out of the bathroom before you have a chance to respond.

you’re still standing in the bathroom, shocked at her response. you can’t say that you weren’t flattered, but you were still confused. you’ve never even talked to her before.

eventually, you grab your stuff and exit the bathroom.

in the lobby, you purposefully bypass your friends from class, who stood around talking to each other. you hoped they weren’t talking about you.

once you got to your car, you sat thinking about what bada said.

you’re the prettiest ballet dancer here.

you slightly smiled to yourself as you pulled out of the parking lot.

🩰🫧🕊️

you sat on your couch, staring at your phone. you should be in bed by now, but you can’t shake what happened in class today.

you suddenly get an idea.

you pull up youtube and type the name of your dance studio, followed by the name of the strange girl in the bathroom.

hundreds of dance videos pop up, with the name bada lee. you admit that this is weird stalker behavior, but you can’t help but be curious.

you click on a video called “on my mama : bada lee choreography”.

so she’s not just a dancer, she’s also a choreographer.

you watch her dance with another male hip hop dancer. you’re immediately mesmerized. her dancing was so attractive.

it seemed like she was dancing for you. maybe she did it on purpose. she probably liked female attention.

regardless, you still felt nervous when she smiled at you, or rather the camera.

this kickstarted the next two hours that you spent watching her dance videos. even when she was dancing with other people, your eyes were on her.

you couldn’t believe she said you were pretty. you were sure she acts that way towards everyone, though. it definitely seemed like she was a flirty person.

you still felt butterflies watching her.

🫶🏻

a/n ♡

hi 😛 i finally decided to write again and im gonna make this a full series ! also im not a dancer by any means i just thought this was a good idea. im so sorry if i get anything wrong im trying my best!!

also my idea is that the dance studio is like multi discipline, they have several different types of classes. i know it’s typically not like this in real life but this is fiction i can do whatever i want 😇😇

love you

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starrynighttime · 1 year ago

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Tangled Ribbons Sequel Concept: Tied Ribbons

Original fic by @sadrien

(demistories on AO3)

Full concept under the cut (Spoiler Warning for OG fic)

Chloe had many regrets, but losing her best friend was on the top of the list.

His words still rang in her ears 8 months later, and they only rang louder now that they were all in the same class again.

Marinette’s more than us. She’s better than us.

I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t want anything from you. I want the Chloe I used to be best friends with, but I don’t think she exists anymore.

She stretches herself out on the barre as Tikki and Plagg spoke to everyone in the background.

Chloe couldn’t hear them. All she could focus on was Marinette and Adrien, giggling quietly and nudging each other when the teachers got close.

She knew that they were dating. It was clear as day to her how close they had gotten over break.

In fact, Chloe had never seen Adrien so happy.

She wanted to be happy for him, she really did, but she couldn’t.

Not when they were barely friends anymore.

He didn’t even tell her.

Chloe sighed and leaned her forehead against the barre. She knew he had no reason to even want to be in contact with her again, but the distance between them still hurt.

And now… well, now, Marinette was roommates with Adrien and Chloe was stuck with an overconfident new girl who had zero talent.

Yippee.

(At least Marinette knew she barely had talent last semester and tried to be better. Lila made empty boasts and constantly wore perfume that stunk up the studio and gave Chloe migraines.)

Honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her situation. It was her fault after all.

If she didn’t destroy Marinette’s shoes last year, she wouldn’t have gotten so close with Adrien, and he wouldn’t have fought so hard to be her roommate this semester.

Sure, Chloe had apologized to Marinette, but she doubted that Marinette would ever-

“-loe? Chloe!” Tikki’s voice snapped Chloe out of her train of thought. “Is everything okay?”

Chloe heard Lila snicker in the background and fought back the urge to scream.

“I’m fine, Tikki.” She forced out. “I just… have a lot on my mind”

Chloe pretended to not notice as Tikki looked at her with concern before returning to the lesson.

~~~~~

When class was over, everyone started filing out.

Chloe was going through her bag in a shadowy corner of the sitting area when Adrien and Marinette came in.

“Do you think it’ll work?” She heard him ask. Marinette snorted.

“Maybe not, but I am so sick of Nino and Alya being into each other and doing nothing about it.” Marinette grumbled. Adrien chuckled, then went silent.

“…is this how they felt?”

At his words, Chloe saw Marinette blanche.

“Oh my god, I’ve turned into the very thing I’ve sworn to never become.” Marinette groaned. Adrien smiled at her.

“You know I love you just the same.” He said, putting his hand on her shoulder and pulling her towards him. Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I love you too, you dork.”

They kissed, and Chloe’s vision blurred. She swallowed back a sob and waited for Marinette and Adrien to leave before sinking down onto the floor.

Chloe never cried. She didn’t cry when Adrien left her, she didn’t cry when her mom moved to New York, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to cry now.

But seeing them together, hearing them say that they loved each other so casually as if they said it every single day was too much for her to bear.

She didn’t bother putting her shoes on. She just shoved them back into her bag and walked out of the studio barefoot, slamming the door shut behind her.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #ballet au #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #human tikki #human plagg #no powers au #no miraculous au

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genderbendingavatar · 11 months ago

Photo

kuklarusskaya:

yayamartin:

thisclockworkheart:

sjwcansuckmydick:

thisclockworkheart:

Because why not? ;-)

Source

I don’t think this counts as dancing. Or even skipping really. It’s more of an exagerated waddle

So. Let me tell you about the day I took this video. It was the 1 year anniversary of my open heart surgery. It’s about a year old, and I’d say it’s pretty safe to say I’ve improved since then. In case you don’t agree, let’s take a look at some more at my exaggerated waddling.

Waddle.

Waddle waddle.

*rolls across the floor*

Clearly I am immobilized by my own mass.

Oh wait… that’s not it, is it? It sort of seems like the opposite. Almost as though the ability to dance is based on strength, effort and passion and not on being skinny. Strange concept I know, let’s see if you can wrap your tiny little mind around it.

not to mention she wasnt waddling at all.. That was clearly a jete, chasse, and assemble.. not waddling. ballet…

Yo. Professional ballerina speaking here.

Clearly she is performing a saute arabesque, chasse, step-step, assemble devant with arms in fifth.

And as a teacher too, I can’t find much technically wrong with it at all.

Which means not only is she a gifted dancer, she has a wonderful technical foundation that she is executing properly and with lovely mannerism.

Being a ballerina isn’t about how much you weigh. Give me this girl ANY day for a student or dancer to work with. Clearly she has the knowledge and the passion, which means she will be a joy to work with.

Also, for those of you criticizing, you clearly have NO idea how difficult it is to execute a develope ecarte derriere the way she is at the barre in one of her later photos. This takes YEARS of dedicated training, as well as extensive natural facility, such as turnout, which she clearly demonstrates here.

So maybe before you peons thinking you’re masters of ballet judge dancers based on weight, you should actually learn about ballet and technique. Because if you had, you’d recognize that this girl clearly has technique—unlike your basic asses.

#ballet #body positivity #i recommend everyone watch the kdrama #navillera #it's about an old man who has always wanted to learn ballet and so he does #everyone around him says he can't do it because of his age and because his body won't be able to keep up #and he proves that's bullshit and displays genuine grace and strength and passion when he dances #it's beautiful and it's an amazing story and y'all should watch it

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panachedanceco · 3 months ago

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From Beginner to Ballerina: Finding the Perfect Dance Classes for Ballet

Ballet is not just a dance form; it’s an art that combines grace, discipline, and strength. Whether you're a complete novice dreaming of pirouettes or a more experienced dancer seeking to refine your technique, finding the right ballet class can make all the difference. For those in Medford, the journey from beginner to ballerina is filled with opportunities to learn, grow, and excel. Here’s a guide to help you navigate the process of finding the perfect Ballet Dance Classes in Medford.

Understanding Your Ballet Goals

Before diving into the search for classes, it’s crucial to define your goals. Are you looking to explore ballet for the first time, or do you have previous experience and seek advanced training? Understanding your objectives will help you identify classes that align with your aspirations.

For beginners, the focus might be on learning the basic positions, steps, and terminology. Intermediate and advanced dancers might seek more specialized classes, such as those focusing on pointe work or variations. Defining your goals will guide you to programs that offer the right level of instruction and challenge.

Researching Dance Studios

Medford offers a range of dance studios, each with its unique atmosphere and approach to teaching ballet. Here are some factors to consider when researching studios:

Reputation and Reviews: Look for studios with positive reviews and a solid reputation in the community. Word-of-mouth recommendations from fellow dancers can also be invaluable.

Instructor Qualifications: Check the qualifications and experience of the instructors. Experienced teachers with professional backgrounds can provide high-quality instruction and mentorship.

Class Size and Structure: Smaller class sizes often mean more personalized attention. Additionally, ensure that the studio offers a structured curriculum that aligns with your skill level and goals.

Facilities and Equipment: Visit the studio if possible to evaluate the facilities. Look for well-maintained floors, mirrors, and barre equipment, which are essential for a safe and effective learning environment.

Class Types and Levels

Different studios offer various types of ballet classes, catering to different skill levels and interests. Here’s a breakdown of common class types you might encounter:

Beginner Classes: These classes are designed for those new to ballet. They focus on basic movements, positions, and techniques, laying a strong foundation for future progress.

Intermediate Classes: For dancers with some experience, these classes delve deeper into technique and artistry. They often introduce more complex steps and combinations.

Advanced Classes: Advanced classes cater to experienced dancers seeking to refine their technique and performance skills. They may include specialized training, such as pointe work or classical variations.

Adult Ballet Classes: Many studios offer classes specifically for adults, whether they are beginners or experienced dancers returning to ballet. These classes provide a supportive environment for adult learners.

Trial Classes and Evaluations

Once you’ve identified a few studios and classes that seem like a good fit, consider attending a trial class. This will give you a sense of the teaching style, class dynamics, and overall atmosphere. It’s also an opportunity to ask questions and discuss your goals with the instructor.

During the trial, pay attention to how the instructor interacts with students, the class pace, and whether you feel comfortable and challenged. This firsthand experience is invaluable in determining if the studio and class meet your needs.

Balancing Cost and Commitment

Ballet classes can vary in cost, so it's important to find a balance between your budget and your commitment to learning. Some studios offer package deals or discounts for multiple classes per week, which can be beneficial if you're committed to regular attendance.

Additionally, consider any additional costs such as uniforms, shoes, and performance fees. Ensure that these costs align with your budget and that the investment supports your long-term goals.

Building a Supportive Community

A significant part of the ballet experience is the community you become a part of. Look for studios that foster a positive and supportive environment. Building relationships with fellow dancers and participating in studio events can enhance your overall experience and provide motivation.

Conclusion

Finding the perfect Dance Classes For Ballet Medford involves a combination of understanding your goals, researching studios, evaluating class types, and assessing costs. By taking the time to explore your options and attending trial classes, you can find a program that supports your journey from beginner to ballerina. Remember, ballet is as much about the journey as it is about the destination, and with the right guidance and dedication, you’ll find yourself gracefully advancing in no time. Embrace the process, enjoy the art, and let your ballet dreams take flight.

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royalballetschool · 4 months ago

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The Role of The Royal Ballet School’s Primary Steps Programme in Dance Education Across England and Wales

Founded almost 100 years ago, The Royal Ballet School has produced generations of iconic dancers, including Margot Fonteyn and Darcey Bussell.

Although places on The Royal Ballet School’s full-time training course in London are highly coveted, the School believes that creative dance education should be accessible to all.

To broaden access to dance education, The Royal Ballet School launched the Primary Steps Programme in 2006. Through this programme, primary school children in England and Wales can discover the joy of ballet in their local area.

Raising The Barre for Dance Education

The advantages of teaching children dance are well understood, with research demonstrating its many physiological and psychological benefits. The Royal Ballet School understands that dance is an essential tool that can enrich children’s well-being and curriculum learning.

By extension, the Primary Steps Programme has introduced thousands of primary school students to ballet. Primary Steps nurtures children’s talents through after-school classes and performance opportunities.

The programme also helps participants and their families discover further dance pathways. Primary Steps connects young dancers to local and national dance infrastructure. Graduates of the programme have pursued pre-vocational and vocational studies at:

The Royal Ballet School, London.

Elmhurst Ballet School, Birmingham.

Moorland International Ballet Academy, Clitheroe.

The Lowry, Salford.

The Place, London.

Swindon Dance.

Dance4, Nottingham.

DanceEast, Ipswich.

Primary Steps acts as a springboard for many talented students who wish to pursue formal dance training. But the programme also offers children a fun space to explore the art form and socialise. Primary Steps graduates note that the programme helped them make new friends and grow in confidence.

Creative Ballet Education for Students in Years 3 to 6

The Primary Steps Programme caters to children aged 7 to 11 (school Years 3 to 6). Students at participating schools benefit from the programme’s two parts: autumn term workshops and weekly after-school classes.

1. Autumn Term Workshops

Primary Steps runs a continuing professional development (CPD) day for Year 3 teachers in the autumn term of the academic year. This CPD day takes place at The Royal Ballet School. In addition, the teachers’ students take part in five creative ballet workshops. Led by specialist instructors, the autumn workshops can contribute to Arts Award Discover.

Participating schools then receive:

Five creative ballet workshops for all Year 3 children.

CPD and resource materials to support further dance classes.

An interactive ballet training demonstration with Royal Ballet School students.

2. Weekly After-School Classes

Selected Year 3 students from participating schools go on to attend weekly creative ballet classes. The classes take place at a local host secondary school and are an ideal medium for Arts Award Explore. Students can attend classes up to the age of 11.

For a small fee, participants receive:

Weekly creative dance classes. Taught by Royal Ballet School teachers, the classes also feature live musical accompaniment.

Dance shoes and uniform.

Chances to see Royal Ballet School students training and performances from professional dancers.

Trips to local and regional dance companies.

Opportunities to perform at The Royal Ballet School and locally.

Making Dance Accessible in England and Wales

The Primary Steps Programme allows children in England and Wales to access a high-quality dance education in their local area. The programme partners with national dance agencies and secondary schools to target regions of economic, social, and cultural diversity.

Funded in part by the Department for Education, the programme operates in 34 primary schools (28 in England and 6 in Wales) and 6 centres in Blackpool, Bury St Edmunds, Cardiff, Dagenham, Mansfield, and Swindon.

1. Blackpool

Primary Steps works with Highfurlong School, The Lowry, and the following primary schools in Blackpool:

Revoe Learning Academy.

Boundary Primary School.

Anchorsholme Academy.

Bispham Endowed Church of England Primary.

Layton Primary.

2. Bury St Edmunds

Primary Steps works with DanceEast, King Edward VI School, and the following primary schools in Bury St Edmunds:

Hardwick Primary.

Guildhall Feoffment Community Primary.

Sexton’s Manor Primary.

Tollgate Primary.

Westgate Community Primary.

Howard Community Primary.

3. Cardiff

Primary Steps works with Rubicon Dance and the following primary schools in Cardiff:

● Ysgol Glan Morfa.

Moorland Primary.

Adamsdown Primary.

Tredegarville C.W. Primary.

Baden Powell Primary.

Stacey Primary.

4. Dagenham

Primary Steps works with Trinity Laban, The Place, Dagenham Park Church of England School, and the following primary schools in Dagenham:

William Ford Church of England Junior.

Beam County Primary.

John Perry Primary.

Godwin Primary.

Marsh Green Primary.

5. Mansfield

Primary Steps works with Dance4, Manor Academy, and the following primary schools in Mansfield:

Forest Town Primary.

Birklands Primary.

Farmilo Primary.

The Flying High Academy — Ladybrook.

Heatherley Primary.

Peafield Lane Academy.

Northfield Primary.

6. Swindon

Primary Steps works with Swindon Dance and the following primary schools in Swindon:

Lainesmead Primary.

Tregoze Primary.

Lawn Primary.

Mountford Manor Primary.

Lethbridge Primary.

Primary Steps on Demand

To expand the scope of the Primary Steps Programme beyond England and Wales, The Royal Ballet School now offers Primary Steps on Demand. Primary Steps on Demand offers primary schools worldwide a complete dance programme from the experienced Royal Ballet School team.

The flexible, online programme is available through the School’s video-on-demand platform. Primary Steps on Demand is available from £3 per student, and teachers don’t need any dance teaching experience to implement the programme.

The programme includes:

Video classes covering cross-curricular themes and core concepts of movement in ballet.

Movement guides, such as warm-ups and cool-downs.

Lesson plans and tutorials for teachers.

Resources for students.

CPD webinars and live virtual workshops.

Almost 20 Years of Primary Steps

For almost two decades, Primary Steps has increased accessibility to creative dance education in the UK. Alongside its workshops and classes, the programme provides opportunities to experience dance creation and performance. It also connects students and their families to regional dance infrastructure.

By leveraging The Royal Ballet School’s unique resources and expertise, Primary Steps also supports dance teaching in participating schools.

Through the Primary Steps Programme, The Royal Ballet School demonstrates the impact of creative dance on curriculum enrichment and learning through movement. Children who take part in the programme can enjoy enhanced health, well-being, and academic and social skills. Some may even become the world’s next ballet stars.

Learn more about The Royal Ballet School’s Primary Steps Programme.

About The Royal Ballet School

Established in 1926, The Royal Ballet School is one of the world’s most prestigious dance schools. Former students include Anya Linden, Kenneth MacMillan, Lauren Cuthbertson, and Christopher Wheeldon.

Full-time students train in London for up to eight years. They pursue their dance and academic studies with support from the pastoral team and Healthy Dancer Programme. Many graduates go on to work at The Royal Ballet, Birmingham Royal Ballet, and top global dance companies.

The Royal Ballet School is on a mission to broaden access to ballet and creative dance. Its Training and Access programme offers a range of dance and teacher training programmes. Young dancers can participate in Primary Steps, the Associate Programme, and Intensive Courses.

#royalballetschool #ballet

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yogabilitymind · 8 months ago

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Yoga Training in Australia | yogability.com.au

Pristine beaches, enchanting forests, and suitable weather make Australia an ideal destination for yoga training courses. Choosing a course that is accredited with Yoga Alliance or Yoga Australia can help you achieve your goals.

The Yoga Academy offers a comprehensive teacher-training program in Sydney, Australia. Their curriculum covers alignment based Vinyasa, yogic philosophy and anatomy, and teaching methods.

Fire Shaper

Located in Sydney and Byron Bay, this yoga training Australia program is one of the most renowned in Australia. The 200-hour training combines traditional yoga teachings with contemporary practices and offers a broad curriculum that covers asana, pranayama, philosophy, physiology, and meditation. In addition, it includes RQU, a powerful experience that guides trainees on their journey to discovering their true potential.

Founded by Bikram-trained Natalie Surie and husband-and-wife Dr John Surie, Fire Shaper is the most qualified international hot yoga teacher training program. They offer a comprehensive 200-hour internationally recognized certification that prepares students to teach yoga and live life with passion. Their studios feature a wide range of disciplines, from beginner-friendly Fresh sessions to ballet-inspired Barre classes and muscle-challenging Forge classes.

They also run an extensive schedule of workshops and retreats throughout the year. These are an ideal way to deepen your practice and learn from other teachers. You can sign up for a workshop or a retreat online.

Yogahub

Yoga training Australia is a 200 hour teacher training program that digs deep into the core of yoga. It seeks to harmonise age-old traditions with modern wellness practices, presenting a rich and holistic view of the discipline. Its curriculum isn’t confined to asanas and pranayama, but also includes philosophy, anatomy, and commercial aspects of the yoga industry.

The program offers a variety of options for students, including online, in-person, and retreat classes. The course is designed to help students become a confident, skilled instructor. Upon completion of the course, students will be ready to teach yoga in their own studios.

This program is offered in Byron Bay, a tranquil coastal town known for its sparkling beaches and lush vegetation. The immersive environment facilitates a transformative learning experience. The program also includes a comprehensive study of yoga history, theory, and philosophy. It also offers meaningful mentoring relationships with senior teachers. The training is divided into three parts, beginning with six weeks of home-study and guided by online exercises, readings, and Skype supervision.

The Yoga Academy

This yoga teacher training program provides students with a holistic education and a powerful community. The course is offered online, so students can take it from anywhere in the world. The curriculum is extensive and includes a variety of topics, including yoga philosophy and anatomy. The course also covers meditation and pranayama.

This 200-hour yoga teacher training offers a unique combination of physical and personal development. The course is a mix of live interactive sessions, self-directed study and practice teaching. It is a fully immersive experience that will leave you feeling empowered to take your yoga practice and leadership skills to the next level.

The RYT-200 course offers a comprehensive curriculum and is accredited by Yoga Alliance. It includes topics such as intelligent sequencing, anatomy, and the chakra system. It also emphasizes inclusivity and social equity. The program is led by a dedicated team of experienced and qualified instructors. Students can expect to learn from experienced teachers and gain a deeper understanding of the ancient practices of yoga.

Yoga Australia

The Yoga Australia yoga training sydney program is a holistic and comprehensive curriculum that will enable you to teach with passion, compassion, and integrity. Its teaching team consists of experienced teachers from various backgrounds and is well-equipped to help you find your unique voice in the classroom.

The course offers a unique blend of yogic philosophy, chanting and pranayama with asana, adjusting, and assisting. It also covers the yogic lifestyle, including a vegetarian diet and ethical standards for yoga professionals. You will also learn to create a 6-week class schedule and basic business skills.

Before you sign up for a training program, make sure to take classes, speak with senior lecturers/teachers, and meet current students. You want to ensure that you have a positive experience and feel comfortable with the school and its staff. It’s also important to consider whether the program meets your personal and professional needs. In addition, a good yoga training program will have a Code of Practice that is based on yogic ethics.

#yoga training Australia #yoga training perth #yoga training sydney

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