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mmmmalo · 2 years ago

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Hiveswap Reread Pt. 1

Current takeway is that in the same way that Psycholonials focuses on China paranoia (plot: a leftist Chinese-American infects the world with revolution alongside the "China virus" of Covid 19) Hiveswap is very much about Red Scares directed at Russia, Cold War nuclear anxieties, and those fears' persistence past the end of the USSR. Like the game's set in '94, but Jude still won't touch Tetris cause it's got Commie germs.

Trolls emerge from anxieties, so the red scare may go a ways towards explaining why Fozzer is a communist (until he isn't) and Boldir took her wardrobe from a SPY VS SPY cartoon. The structural power of slurs in Homestuck trained me to seek potential terms of perjoration so I looked up Russian stereotypes and was reminded of the country's popular association with bears, which turned my thoughts toward Bronya Ursama (ursa mama > mama bear). It turns out "nyanya" (няня) is a Russian word for babysitter! and "bronya" (броня) itself means Armor. My first instinct was to read Armored Mamabear as a reference to Alphonse Elric, since Bronya's clapping motion is reminiscent of the alchemical prayer performed by those who attempt Human Transmutation -- a suitable topic for the brooding caverns -- and Alphonse in particular dreamed of motherhood, repeatedly storing life in the belly of his casings. There's even a moment where you the reader "CLAP YOUR HAND over your mouth to keep from GAGGING", implicitly connecting Bronya's gesture to an Alternian paradigm of birth, vomiting.

But perhaps instead of "vomiting", we should say "purging": the name "Armor" also seems to designate Bronya as a feminine Stalin (meaning 'Steel'). "There's no leader, but do as I say" positions Bronya as leader within a very old joke mocking the persistence of heirarchy in a political system (Communism) ostensibly aimed at eliminating class division. "Protect the Mothergrub" becomes "PROTECT THE MOTHERLAND". Bronya's pronounced terror towards possible purges marks her as a stereotypical subject of Stalinism, but she's also positioned as the purger: "babysitting" acquires a morbid connotation through Alternia's deadliest ass, such that Bronya's odd sense of responsibility (she says she can't be friends with someone she can't TAKE CARE OF) implies not only a need for control but also a need for killing power in all relationships. Only trust who you can crush.The successful route (which avoids purges!) involves persuading Bronya to relinquish her iron grip and trust the People to lead themselves. The route looks at Stalin and goes I Could Fix Her.

I laughed the moment I started Bronya's route: her designated song, the Phantasmagoric Waltz, sounds like it came straight out of the Nutcracker, Tchaikovsky's famous ballet. The joke suggest Joey's love of ballet might function as a signifier of Russian culture in Hiveswap -- and perhaps her love of tap dance would likewise become an American signifier? Joey's dream of uniting the dance styles would then suggest achieving unity of opposed political entities... but I worry that "unity" implies "domination". Joey shuns guns but her tap shoes are sometimes discussed as though they are guns, eg when Joey claims they would blast a pile of garbage apart. So the (eventual, not yet) combination of dances would come to represent war? More to that point:

My initial notes emphasized the element of interactivity, but if the gyroscope functioned as a representation of an atom, this would effectively be saying that Joey's tap shoes are nukes? (This approach is colored by One Piece, which uses a large orrery within a Tree of Knowledge shaped liked a mushroom cloud to represent nuclear capability. ) In which case "unity" would mean outright destruction.

Either way, Joey's itchy trigger toes become parcel to the general air of (nuclear) war anxiety that pervades the story. I suspect Joey's outspoken hatred of animal death is similarly a reaction to Laika, the dog who died aboard Sputnik-2 (one of several test satellites whose flight path above the US initiated panic over potential orbital missile strikes). The flashlight is our satellite symbol: Jude's treehouse (like Terezi's before him) locates him metaphorically in the numinous aether*, using a flashlight to blink morse code messages like a satellite beaming information down to Earth. When Joey finds her own flashlight, she refers to it as a tomb for all the Pogs she finds inside instead of batteries. Pogs means dogs here: it's a nightmare of finding a satellite filled with dead Laikas. Puppy Surprise is having puppies!

* I also wonder if (again inflected by One Piece) if Jude's burning fall foliage might represent a mushroom cloud? But I'll focus on the other approach for now.

So a fear of orbital missile strikes (and an urge for preemptive strikes?) is linked to the weaponization of the flashlight. One of the paintings in the hallway features a horse scared of lightning (violence from above!), the bolts of which Jude has stickered over with an alien invasion (violence from above!) whose tractor beams of abduction resemble the rays of a satellite flashlight. Unsure what to make of Joey turning the invasion into birthday party though...

Brief diversion from Red Scare speculation: the game seems to imply that Jude's pet is Lord English? in addition to being a serpent, as others have already concluded. The toy castle at the foot of Jude's door, the one with Lord English's winking face for a gate, has a counterpart across the hall: in the other painting (Venus of Urbino), a dog at the foot of the bed has been modified with a sticker of a winking dog's face. The shared expression marks Lord English as a pet... but just as importantly, the parallel draws a line between the reposed/nude Venus ("churched up" with some clothing by a prudish/bashful Joey) and Jude's room. 5 interpretive angles occur to me, not necessarily mutually exclusive:

1. The myriad KEEP OUT signs on Jude's door can be superimposed onto Venus, relaying a sense that Joey views her attraction to women as improper (as the clothes she drew on might've already indicated), and/or a sense that the world around Joey disapproves

2. The nudity is superimposed on Jude, suggesting a repressed attraction to her brother. Earlier Joey expressed annoyance that the clouds (juxtaposed with Jude's tree house) were "ephemeral and UNTOUCHABLE" a sentiment which if redirected at Jude suggest annoyance with the incest taboo.

3. The two above combine into an antisemitic gesture, a desire to "church up" (ie convert) the Jews. This relies on pun drawn from Alternia: "archery" is rendered Jewish by fixating on the "ARK" component, part of Alternia's tongue-in-cheek depiction of a post-ChristianGenocide world. The plush Sufferer in the hall (struck by one of Jude's many arrows) invokes this facet of the fantasy -- it also meshes with the fear of Russian missile strikes invoked by Jude, perhaps leaning into the old conspiracy theory that Communism was a Jewish plot.

4. Supposing for a moment that Joey were a trans girl, we could integrate Lord English (or rather, the serpent he represents) into the equation: the phallus becomes the guard dog of femininity, the beast preventing its attainment... a glimpse into Joey's school life reveals that kids call her a POSER when she tries to talk about GAMES, which might be leveraged towards Joey experiencing transphobia: the association of girls with roleplay is part of Alternia's underlying transphobia, as best I can tell. Unless it's just plain old misogyny to say girls are categorically "false"? Perhaps both...

But there's a bit on the staircase to the attic where Joey remarks she would like the plush caterpillar more if it were to spin a chrysalis (ie become a fairy), which again scans as trans imagery in the context of the house's immersion in Alternian lore... I presume the remark is self-reflexive, but I suppose Joey might simply like if all icky boys became girls, Jude included? But then after saying that dancing on the stairs is dangerous (you could break your legs!), she dances ballet for the caterpillar alone and incurs the risk -- this scans as an invocation of Tavros, whose accident was parcel to Alternia's denigration/depictions of f*gs (read as a blanket term for "feminine men"... though it's possible "masculine women" are being denigrated in the same breath? Bluh)

5. Back to the Red Scare: in the wake of Bronya and the Mothergrub, perhaps we might read Venus as representative of the Motherland! The apparent desire for union with the feminine (in terms of romance or identity) would fall victim to the same violence haunting the unity of tap and ballet: it means destruction, conquest! Those godless (ie Jewish??) communists need to be Churched Up, PERMANENTLY....

...or something like that, that's my understanding of the conspiracies at play so far. Next time, we go downstairs!

#hiveswap #antisemitism #joey #jude #bronya #slav mapping #nukes

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swanlake1998 · 3 years ago

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Article: Five Pioneering Black Ballerinas: ‘We Have to Have a Voice’

Date: June 17, 2021

By: Karen Valby

These early Dance Theater of Harlem stars met weekly on Zoom — to survive the isolation of the pandemic and to reclaim their role in dance history.

Last May, adrift in a suddenly untethered world, five former ballerinas came together to form the 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy. Every Tuesday afternoon, they logged onto Zoom from around the country to remember their time together performing with Dance Theater of Harlem, feeling that magical turn in early audiences from skepticism to awe.

Life as a pioneer, life in a pandemic: They have been friends for over half a century, and have held each other up through far harder times than this last disorienting year. When people reached for all manners of comfort, something to give purpose or a shape to the days, these five women turned to their shared past.

In their cozy, rambling weekly Zoom meetings, punctuated by peals of laughter and occasional tears, they revisited the fabulousness of their former lives. With the background of George Floyd’s murder and a pandemic disproportionately affecting the Black community, the women set their sights on tackling another injustice. They wanted to reinscribe the struggles and feats of those early years at Dance Theater of Harlem into a cultural narrative that seems so often to cast Black excellence aside.

“There’s been so much of African American history that’s been denied or pushed to the back,” said Karlya Shelton-Benjamin, 64, who first brought the idea of a legacy council to the other women. “We have to have a voice.”

They knew as young ballet students that they’d never be chosen for roles like Clara in “The Nutcracker” or Odette/Odile in “Swan Lake.” They were told by their teachers to switch to modern dance or to aim for the Alvin Ailey company if they wanted to dance professionally, regardless of whether they felt most alive en pointe.

Arthur Mitchell was like a lighthouse to the women. Mitchell, the first Black principal dancer at the New York City Ballet and a protégé of the choreographer George Balanchine, had a mission: to create a home for Black dancers to achieve heights of excellence unencumbered by ignorance or tradition. Ignited by the assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., he founded Dance Theater of Harlem in 1969 with Karel Shook.

Lydia Abarca-Mitchell, Gayle McKinney-Griffith and Sheila Rohan were founding dancers of his new company with McKinney-Griffith, 71, soon taking on the role of its first ballet mistress. Within the decade, Shelton-Benjamin and Marcia Sells joined as first generation dancers.

Abarca-Mitchell, 70, spent her childhood in joyless ballet classes but never saw an actual performance until she was 17 at the invitation of Mitchell, her new teacher. “I’ll never forget what Arthur did onstage” she said of his Puck in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” at New York City Ballet during a Tuesday session in January. “He made the ballet so natural. Suddenly it wasn’t just this ethereal thing anymore. I felt it in my bones.”

Marcia Sells, 61, remembered being 9 and watching with mouth agape when Abarca-Mitchell, McKinney-Griffith and Rohan performed with Dance Theater in her hometown, Cincinnati. “There in front of me were Black ballerinas,” Sells said during a video call in April. “That moment was the difference in my life. Otherwise I don’t think it would’ve been possible for me to think of a career in ballet.”

Shelton-Benjamin left her Denver ballet company, where she was the only Black dancer, turning down invitations from the Joffrey Ballet and American Ballet Theater, after reading a story about Dance Theater of Harlem in Dance magazine. Abarca-Mitchell was on that issue’s cover — the first Black woman to have that honor. At her Harlem audition, Shelton-Benjamin witnessed company members hand-dying their shoes and ribbons and tights to match the hues of their skin. Here, no traditional ballet pink would interrupt the beauty of their lines. “I had never seen a Black ballerina before, let alone a whole company,” Shelton-Benjamin, 64, said during a February Zoom meeting. “All I could think was, ‘Where have you guys been?’”

Finding one another back then, at the height of the civil rights movement, allowed them to have careers while challenging a ballet culture that had been claimed by white people. “We were suddenly ambassadors,” Abarca-Mitchell said. “And we were all in it together.”

They traveled to American cities that presented such a hostile environment that Mitchell would cancel the performance the night of, lest his company feel disrespected. But they also danced for kings and queens and presidents. In 1979, a review in The Washington Post declared their dancing to be a “purer realization of the Balanchinean ideal than anyone else’s.” Their adventures offstage were similarly electric, like the night in Manchester when Mick Jagger invited them out on the town. “We walked into the club with him and everybody just moved out of the way,” Shelton-Benjamin said.

Cultural memory can be spurious and shortsighted. Abarca-Mitchell was the first Black prima ballerina for a major company, performing works like Balanchine’s “Agon” and “Bugaku” and William Dollar’s “Le Combat” to raves. In an April Zoom session she said she first realized how left out of history she was when her daughter went online to prove to a friend that her mother was the first Black prima ballerina. But all she found was the name Misty Copeland, hailed as the first. “And my daughter was so mad. She said: ‘Where’s your name? Where’s your name?’ It was a wake-up call.”

While Abarca-Mitchell paused to wipe her eyes, Shelton-Banjamin stepped in: “I want to echo what Lydia said. There was a point where I asked the women, ‘Did it all really happen? Was I really a principal dancer?’ And Lydia told me: ‘Don’t do that! Yes, you were. We’re here to tell you, you were.”

Sells went on to a career that included serving as the dean of Harvard Law School, until she left this year to become the Metropolitan Opera’s first chief diversity officer. Shelton-Benjamin is now a jeweler who recently became certified in diamond grading. She, along with Abarca-Mitchell, McKinney-Griffith and Rohan, continue to coach and teach dance. They all have families, including another grandchild on the way for McKinney-Griffith, who announced the happy news to whoops on a recent call.

But they are done swallowing a mythology of firstness that excludes them, along with fellow pioneers like Katherine Dunham, Debra Austin, Raven Wilkinson, Lauren Anderson and Aesha Ash. It’s true that Misty Copeland is American Ballet Theater’s first Black female principal. It is also true that she stands on the shoulders of the founding and first generation dancers at Dance Theater. A narrative that suggests otherwise, Sells said, “Simply makes ballet history weak and small.”

Worse, it perpetuates the belief that Blackness in ballet is a one-off rather than a continuing fact. And it suggests a lonely existence for dancers like Copeland, a world absent of peers. “We could’ve been Misty’s aunties,” Abarca-Mitchell said. “I wish she was part of our sisterhood, that’s all.”

Dance Theater saved them from being the only one in a room. The work was so hard, the expectations so high, the mission so urgent, that those early days demanded a familial support system among the dancers. “Someone would take you under their wing and say, ‘You’re my daughter or sister or brother,’” McKinney-Griffith said. “The men did it also. Karlya was my little sister, and we kept that through the years.”

Like in any family, the relationships are complicated. The women speak of feeling shut out of today’s Dance Theater of Harlem. They are rarely brought in for workshops or consultations on the ballets they were taught by Mitchell. At his memorial service in 2018, they wept in the pews unacknowledged. “We’re like orphans,” Rohan said with a laugh in a Zoom session. “If the outside world neglects us, it seems all the more reason that Dance Theater of Harlem should embrace us.”

Virginia Johnson, a fellow founding member, is now the company’s artistic director. She assumed the helm in 2013 when Dance Theater returned after an eight-year hiatus caused by financial instability. “It makes me sad to think that they feel excluded,” Johnson said in a phone interview. “And it’s not because I don’t want them. It’s just because I can’t manage. I’ve probably missed some chances but it’s not like I haven’t thought about the value of what they bring to the company. They are the bodies, the soul, the spirit of Dance Theater of Harlem.”

“We all think about and love and respect what Arthur Mitchell did,” she added, “but these are the people he worked with to make this company.”

By the end of May, the five members of the 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy were fully vaccinated. They traveled from Denver, Atlanta, Connecticut, South Jersey and, in Sells’s case, five blocks north of Dance Theater of Harlem for a joyful reunion. So much is different now at the building on 152nd Street. The old fire escape in Studio 3 where they’d catch their breath or wipe tears of frustration is gone. So are the big industrial fans in the corners of the room, replaced by central air conditioning. But they can still feel their leader all around them in the room. Crying, Abarca-Mitchell told McKinney-Griffith, “I miss Arthur.” (Though they all laugh when imagining his response to their legacy council. “I do believe he would try to control us,” Rohan said. “’What are you doing now? Why are you doing that? Let me suggest that. …’”)

The body remembers. In Studio 3, all Shelton-Benjamin had to do was hum a few notes of Balanchine’s “Serenade” and say “and” for the women to grandly sweep their right arms up. “These women help validate my worth,” Abarca-Mitchell said afterward. “I don’t want to take it for granted that people should recognize Lydia Abarca. But when I’m with them I feel like I felt back then. Important.”

Even as the world reopens and they grow busy again, they’ll carry on with their Tuesday afternoons. They want to amplify more alumni voices. They dream of launching a scholarship program for young dancers of color. This fall, they’ll host a webinar in honor of the director and choreographer Billy Wilson, whose daughter Alexis was also part of Dance Theater.

“What we have is a spiritual connection,” said Rohan, who turns 80 this year. She was 27 when she joined the company, already married and hiding from Mitchell that she was a mother of three young children for fear it get her kicked out. When she eventually confessed a year later, he got mad, insisting he would have increased her salary if he’d known she had mouths to feed.

“Arthur planted a seed in me, and all these beautiful women helped it grow,” she said. “Coming from Staten Island, I was just a country girl from the projects. My first time on a plane was to go to Europe to dance on those stages. I thanked God every day for the experience. This year, coming together again, I remembered how much it all meant to me. I didn’t have to be a star ballerina. It was enough that I was there. I was there. I was there.”

#article #ballet #the ny times #marcia sells #sheila rohan #gayle mckinney griffith #karlya shelton-benjamin #lydia abarca #virginia johnson

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romillys · 4 years ago

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hi everyone! so glad this is back!

romilly ‘mila’ van der woodsen was spotted in the fashion district adorning the jimmy choo thyra 100 jewel-embellished suede heeled sandals , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to blinding lights - acoustic by victoria voss . you may know them as romillys or as that casimere jollette lookalike . their twenty fourth birthday just passed . while living in the upper east side , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be defensive but on the other hand hard-working . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cis woman / she/her + elle / 23 / she/her )

* character questionaire .

01. if you have three words to describe yourself , what are they ?

focused, daring, confident.

02 . what is your favourite alcoholic drink ?

it’s definitely wine. i used to only drink white but i’ve become really fond of red. my grandpa gave me a bottle of 1982 latour for my twenty first birthday and that was easily the most impressed i’ve ever been with wine. i’m not going to be basic and say dom perignon.

03 . what is your favourite season and why ?

i’ve always loved winter because of the associations of ballet and the performances of the nutcracker. it’s always help a special place in my heart and i continue to feel the same after all these years. plus, i love the parties and dressing up, feel like i can go more glam with more diamonds and sparkles than in the summer.

04 . what’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done ?

it would have to be when i drunkenly booked a vacation to dubai for myself and a few friends after a wine and movie night. i spent a ridiculous amount but the trip was fun and i can safely say my friends and i still talk about it.

* character biography .

the only grand daughter of olivier van der woodsen, romilly would grow up surrounded by luxury olivier was the founder and controlling shareholder of woodsen enterprises, a company has investments in various industries including auto parts, energy, metals, rail cars, casinos, food packaging, real estate, and home fashion. it was more than enough for him to provide for his son and daughter-in-law and now his grand-daughter. like her parents before her, romilly was born into privileged and lived comfortably in an upper east side penthouse where she was waited on by endless nannies and housekeepers. her father was involved in the family business, hoping to be handed olivier’s shares one day but the other showed no sign of willingly stepping down any time soon; her mother a self-absorbed socialite that had her own ideas of how to dominate society meant that childcare did not land with either of them.

her parents were difficult to communicate with and this lead to many nannies leaving just when romilly had started to become attached. they were the closest thing to love that she had received but as they left constantly she would grow up with a great sense of inadequacy. they weren’t in love and it seemed the both of them only valued their own sucesses, not each others. as she grew up, she would become her grandfather’s favourite and it would leave both her parents with green eyes...

romilly always liked dancing and had a special connection with music. every time she heard it she wanted to move. she was too young to understand it but she had natural musicality. when they realised that it was harder for the help to stay, they pushed her onto olivier with the hope that she’d be a distraction to pressure him into taking a step back. The man, although one of the most powerful people in New York City, did have a soft spot for his granddaughter. he was the one that saw potential in her dancing as a child. he was quick to enroll her when she was six and everything else followed.

from that moment on, she would only look forward to dance and seeing her grandfather. he was the only one who understood her passion and was the one encouraging her at every stage. however, her parents were quick to criticise performances or her facial expressions when performing. no matter how hrd she tried, it wasn’t enough to impress them. she started distancing from them after that, only talking to her grandpa and looking to him when she needed emotional sport.

being accepted into the summer intensive programme for the school of american ballet was a game changer for her. she made good friends and loved breathing dance and being surrounded by people who had the same passion. she attended the same intensive two years running and her place there just felt right. the next year, she was enrolled as a full time student at the school of american ballet and moved into halls. it was a freedom she never had before and felt like it was her very first chance to have a real sense of community and support.

romilly worked extremely hard and was definitely one who focused on her success; that had seeped its way through from her parents. she was one of the lucky ones to become an apprentice at new york city ballet and the staff definitely took note. her skill level had almost been at prodigy level and she always maintained a ‘can-do’ attitute. she wouldn’t simply bend into the background.

this year, she became one of the youngest principal dancers in the company and it was the best day of her life. she had become a successful professional ballerina. she has also assisted with some choreography as her creativity has blossomed over the years. now her parents wanted to be proud of her and they did make an effort to see her, although it felt really strained from their side. they had ulterior motives but she wasn’t sure what.

romilly was hit hardest after the announcement of the death of olivier van der woodsen, her grandpa who she had loved so much. after the loss and added pressure, her personality has somewhat shifted. she’s out a lot more in clubs now, making out with people and deciding to lessen her control over herself. besides, she’s now a billionaire in her own right but can even comprehend how much money she actually has. she is more defensive and snaps at her co-workers a lot more. she’s secretive and does keep most things to herself. she’s embarrassed that she’s involved in family disputes over money that she never asked for and now worried that stories are leaking on the internet about her and have the ability to tarnish her image in the ballet world. she feels like if she doesn’t fix it soon, she’ll be on her way out of the company. still, she doesn’t help herself and continues to party and drink a lot more than she should do which leads to easily avoidable drunken stumbles that hurt her...

* extras .

profile:

Full Name: romilly annabeth van der woodsen

Nickname(s): mila, tiny dancer, ro

Age: twenty four

Date of Birth: december 19, 1996

Hometown: new york city, new york

Current Location: new york city, new york

Ethnicity: white

Nationality: american

Gender: cis woman

Pronouns: she/her

Orientation: bi romantic & bi sexual

Religion: none

Political Affiliation: none

Occupation: principal ballerina at new york city ballet

Living Arrangements: upper east side penthouse previously owned by olivier van der woodsen

Language(s) Spoken: english, french, chinese

Hair Colour: blonde

Eye Colour: blue

Height: 5′4″

Build: slender

Tattoos: none

Piercings: ears

aesthetics

a fully stocked wine cabinet, diamante earrings, chanel pumps, silk crop tops, crystal embellished stilettos, a pile of pointe shoes discarded in the corner of the main room, marble flooring, roof to floor windows, bobby pins gathering at the bottom of her purse, quickly applying glitter eyeshadow with her fingers, a collection of nude palettes and diamante earrings, deleting emails without reading them, golden chandeliers, rejected calls from parents, tops with puffed sleeves, berets, nineties colored purses, twenty hour days and booking trips aborad while under the influence.

#wealthyhq:intro #death tw

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tamiettitami · 4 years ago

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INSPIRED BY @alamborghini

In the last week, I have spent a majority of my time on Archive of Our Own reading Twyla and Alexis fics. In lieu of that, I thought I would create a recommendation post of my favorites, eight of them to be exact. I've wanted to do fic recommendations for awhile, and this seemed like the perfect place to start! Because the community is small, as I mentioned previously, there will be some author repetition, but they're all incredibly talented writers who I encourage you to support.

Check out Justine's list, too, it's linked at the very beginning! Theirs is a bit more extensive considering they've been here for longer and I've just recently dipped my toe in, however, this was a lot of fun for me to put together and I hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

All word counts, ratings, tags, and descriptions are taken directly from the stories themselves. Credit goes to the original creators for the information provided. Also, I've colored the titles according to the length of the fic. Here is the system I've devised to help you easily find stories within a certain a range of words without having to read too much while also helping to separate the titles a bit: PURPLE >2,000 words, BLUE 2,500-5,000 words, and PINK >5,000 words.

Posts marked with * are also in Podfic format. If it isn't underlined, the Podfic is apart of the work hyperlinked in the story's title.

tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight by @alamborghini and @anniemurphys

WORD COUNT: 843

RATED G for GENERAL AUDIENCES

TAGGED with Future Fic, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Children, Children's Stories, (that aren't always appropriate for children), alexis and twyla have just Seen Things ok, Alexis Rose travels for business and pleasure

DESCRIPTION: Twyla and Alexis' daughter adopts her mother's' stories in the interest of elementary school coolness.

I Offer You My Heart by @landofsonlali and @sunlightsymphony *

WORD COUNT: 10,347

RATED G for GENERAL AUDIENCES

TAGGED with Alternative Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Slow Burn, Tea Leaf reading, Flirting Via Coffee and Pastries, Pining, you know it's an AU because of the seasons, Baked Goods, Podfic, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours, Let Alexis Rose Eat, Twyla Sands' Freckles

DESCRIPTION: Twyla is the owner of a coffee shop in Schitt's Creek and Alexis is a frequent customer, featuring pining, flirtation, and a whole lot of baked goods.

never saw you coming, never be the same by @alamborghini, @anniemurphys, and @landofsonlali *

This is a MUST READ series for any Twylexis fans. I started my journey through the Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands tag with these ficlets and I recommend beginning here as well.

WORD COUNT: 1,938

RATED T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES

TAGGED with Pride, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Twyla Sands' Freckles, Supportive Siblings, Pansexual Alexis Rose, Cuddling & Snuggling

DESCRIPTION: Three different perspectives of Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose's first Pride spent together as a couple.

i didn't know that i was starving (til i tasted you) by @turningtimeinthetardis

WORD COUNT: 12,885

RATED M for MATURE

TAGGED with Character Study: Twyla Sands, Character Study: Alexis Rose, Episode: s04e12 Singles Week, Singles Week Rewrite, Ted is great, But Twy and Alexis are meant to be each other's soft girlfriends, Fluff & Smut, Pining

DESCRIPTION: Twyla knows her natural penchant for kindness can sometimes be a problem. She knows it can sometimes be used against her by people who are more willing to chase their desires than she is.

Normally, she's at least a little ok with being naturally passive, with allowing her desires, her wants, to skate past her, untouched.

Maybe it's because she's gotten accustomed to serving customers at Cafè Tropical and taking unwarranted abuse with a fake smile. Maybe it's because she had grow up faster than any eight or nine year old should. Maybe it's because, well, secretly she's a multi-millionaire and, materially, she doesn't want for much of anything. And she'd be hard pressed for saying she wants anyone in Schitt's Creek.

But once she gets to know Alexis Rose?

Yeah, Twyla wants her.

to be your harbor by @doublel27

WORD COUNT: 4,007

RATED E for EXPLICIT

TAGGED with Post-Canon, Sugar Mama Twyla Sands, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Service Top Alexis Rose, Sweet/Hot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

DESCRIPTION: Twyla uses some of her money on things that are special to her. Alexis is special to Twyla. Luckily, Twyla is precious to Alexis.

your body's poetry (speak to me) by @anniemurphys

WORD COUNT: 19,599

NOT RATED

TAGGED with Alternative Universe - Ballet, adventures at youth america grand prix, baby ballerinas in the corps de ballet, oh my god they were roommates, Twyla Sands' Freckles

DESCRIPTION: Ballet has been at the center of Alexis’ life since she was three years old, the first time she saw New York City Ballet perform The Nutcracker. She pulled on her mother’s sleeve, much to Moira’s displeasure, pointed at the stage, and said, “Me!” It was the very first time she felt like her mother saw her. That feeling was intoxicating enough that she couldn’t help but chase it.

She’s seen some of the world's most celebrated ballerinas perform. But she’s never seen anyone dance like this girl, whose name she doesn’t know. The stage lights turn her auburn hair burning red. Her pirouettes are perfectly landed; there’s no struggle at all in the way her leg lifts behind her in attitude to tap against the tambourine she holds above her head. As she flits across the stage, her tambourine extended toward the judges like an irresistible invitation, there is something real in her smile, something seductive in her eyes.

Alexis forgets to breathe.

searching for a sound we hadn't heard before by @hullomoon

WORD COUNT: 867

RATED T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES

TAGGED with New York City, Kissing, Coda, of sorts, Episode: s06e13 Start Spreading the News

DESCRIPTION: Twyla visits Alexis in New York.

Ladies Night Inn by yeah_alright

WORD COUNT: 15,848

RATED T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES

TAGGED with Canon Compliant, Alternative Ending to The Canidate (season 2 episode 7), ladies night, Spa Night, slumber party, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, really more like, acquaintances to friends to potentially lovers, if we're being accurate, Teen rating is for makeouts and a few refrences to very specific and crucial body parts, No Smut, No Sex, Fluff and Humor

DESCRIPTION: What if Twyla had accepted Alexis' invitation to a ladies night at the motel after her breakup with Mutt?

If you happen to indulge in any of these, let me know you're thoughts as I'd love to chat about them and make some new Twylexis friends. Happy reading! (SOURCE)

#alexis rose #twyla sands #twyla and alexis #alexis x twyla #fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #fic recommendations #fic recs #*lolficrecs

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chrissykissy · 4 years ago

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hello lgbt community welcome to a thread of me thinking abt how my adventures in odyssey f/os celebrate The Holidays 🥰🎄❄

eugene:

insists upon informing jude at Every opportunity that the holiday season does not coincide with historical record of christ’s birthdate, and rather was placed at this time of year to steal the solstice from pagan groups (jude knows, and loves to hear about it)

holiday serenades!!!! he did that whole album, plus he isnt one to shy away from a traditional carol or hymn

i’m sure he’s very low maintenance as far as gifts are concerned, but he’s very used to people tuning him out when he talks so jude getting him a gift that shows he really Listens would get eugene all choked up for sure!

favorite xmas songs: big fan of the old classics, such as: o tannenbaum, silent night, god rest ye merry gentleman (he has sung these songs in canon). i could have sworn he had canonically performed auld lang syne but idc because i say he likes it and im right. loves the sufjan stevens xmas albums because i am never getting over The Incident

dr blackgaard:

i think that regis probably finds the holiday season to be! frivolous? a waste of perfectly good time for productivity, and all that. the grind never stops 😤

definitely spoils sasha with sweet little kitty gifts every year, even as he monologues to her about the arbitrary nature of the season. shes just like *licks him*

that said, i think he’s putting on airs because he never has anyone to spend the season with :’0 until now.... he’s not really sure what to do with himself once jude triumphantly declares his enthusiasm for christmas, but, ah. he’ll find a way to make things interesting

oh GOD i forgot that he’s rich. i’ve never had any desire to travel someplace fancy for christmas but regis knows all the hot spots and surely revels in the opportunity to whisk jude away to literally Any place more glamorous than the northernmost united states

gets a halfhearted christmas card from his brother edwin every year, always saves them. jude is the only person who can ever know about this

favorite xmas songs: will absolutely tear it the fuck up to tchaikovsky’s the nutcracker in its entirety, probably has a private fondness for evil-sounding minor key hymns

bart:

its all about the SPECTACLE, babey!!!! leans 100% into the commercialism of it all

jude’s christmas bonus is a kiss on the cheek :/

ideal christmas date is driving around to extravagantly decorated houses with light shows. hes like “can you believe it? they oughta be chargin’ admission!” but we all know he would stop going if they did. also he had to stop bringing rodney with him bc he and the bones would vandalize the houses 😔

is late giving christmas presents 9 times out of 10 bc he waits for that sweet sweet december 26th sale

favorite xmas songs: mele kalikimaka and feliz navidad (he cannot pronounce the names correctly), i saw mommy kissing santa claus. curated a playlist for the electric palace loudspeaker that only contains the Most consumerist holiday songs

doris:

starts carrying mistletoe in her pocket on november 1st

cannot cook or bake (we know this) but she LOVES decorating (which she can’t really do either). jude comes over with gingerbread pre-baked so doris can have the simple pleasure of icing a sloppy little house. but also? they can nearly burn down the kitchen attempting to bake cookies together...... as a treat :)

would probably have an absolute blast on a horse-drawn carriage ride. i think in general shes Used to experiencing christmas as modern commercialism bc thats what bart likes but she seems like she’d have a taste for a charms and whims of an old, classical christmas. jude (probably post-blackgaard brain imprint, as it seems like an idea he’d come up with) takes her to one of those little town-wide Victorian Christmas events and she gets SO emotional

has probably committed manslaughter on black friday

favorite xmas songs: santa baby, sleigh ride, christmas wrapping by the waitresses

philip glossman:

receives one (1) christmas postcard from jude (which blackgaard begrudgingly co-signed) and is red in the face for the entirety of the month of december

favorite xmas songs: baby its cold outside cause he a lil weirdo

#this is taken straight from my notes app so idk how serviceable it is to someone without my brain as context fdhsfsf #also lmao @ me realizing that having glossman xmas headcanons means i have to give him a ship tag :/ slimy ass...#txt #fo: 💾illiterate with computers💾#fo: 👓greetings and salutations👓#fo: 😖yes sir dr blackgaard😖#si: 🌈rotund little twerp🌈#fo: 💄how gallant!💄#fo: 💸right to cheap speech💸

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annafm · 4 years ago

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(MEDALION RAHIMI, NONBINARY) - Have you seen ANNABEL MAJIDI? ANNA is in HER/THEIR JUNIOR year. The LITERATURE + INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALISM MAJOR is 22 years old & is a SCORPIO. People say SHE/THEY are DILIGENT, ADROIT, CYNICAL and AUSTERE. Rumors say they’re a member of WINTHROP. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY ARE FAKING BEING A PSYCHIC. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

hllo this is anna i hvnt .. played her in a while <3 bt thts okay i think she is very fun 2 play bt like in the way tht she is <3 serious n mean a bit ... bt its okay .. LHKDSGFHLKSDHLKG im sorry this is long this is. an old intro i hvnt rly changed much >.>

CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY TW

aesthetic.

falling feathers darkened at the tips, tweed and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, worn jackets and awkwardly cut t-shirts, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

basic.

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (father only), anna-banana (father only)

b.o.d. - october 31st, 1997

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the minefield, etc.

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

stats

favorite song: you’re dead, norma tanega / now, your hope and compassion is gone / you’ve sold out your dream to the world / stay dead, stay dead, stay dead / you’re dead and outta this world

background.

born to two high schoolers who never married, firoj majidi and parvana banai. they were head over heels for each other - when firoj graduated he took up two jobs alongside community college to support their family, until parvana graduated and took on the arts.

growing up was tough - living in the city wasn’t cheap, parvana’s art rarely sold and the two often went without eating in order to provide for annabel. as a child she’d often wear hand-me-downs from extended family.

was taught to be a hard worker and it was reflected in her schoolwork - anna excelled in all her classes but especially english. her love for writing grew at a young age, and as a child she saved up enough money to buy herself proper journals.

the only thing that she grew more passionate towards than writing was ballet - she caught the image of girls flying through the air and landing on their toes in the window of a dance studio on a walk home from school one day and that was it - something clicked inside of her.

that same day she would spend hours prancing about their tiny apartment, trying to mimic what she’d seen. it was easy to spot the passion anna had for the dance - and within a few months they had saved up enough money for a month’s worth of lessons.

anna was ecstatic - her slippers were old and found in the back of a thrift store by an odd miracle, but she put her all into the lessons regardless. she was quick to pick up on each move, and by the end of the month it was clear that anna had a natural talent.

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

firoj and parvana split up when anna was twelve - an event that rocked the young girl’s world, something that she couldn’t understand. they had kept up a front of love when anna was home from school or ballet - but behind doors, they had been growing apart.

anna viewed their separation as parvana running off with another man - an art collector who had a fascination with paravana’s paintings. she viewed this as the end of the world. she viewed this as the death of love.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

her father got a third job in order to keep up with payments, and anna pushed herself in both ballet and school - not being able to handle an empty apartment. she decided to get a job - to help ease her father, but was too young.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

she’d sell store-bought lemonade as if it were homemade, stole ceramics from art class and sold them to neighbors. she found an old girl scouts uniform in the back of a goodwill and for the next month, she sold knock-off girl scout cookies from the dollar store - going door to door.

her personality had changed drastically - anna went from a sweet, optimistic girl with warm brown eyes and an infectious laugh to cold, calculated, and downright cruel. she knew what she wanted and how to get it.

she got an invitation to a prestigious private school, full scholarship, before she hit high school - originally wanted to reject it as the thought of being surrounded by new york’s richest teens was appalling, but their ballet program was a one-way ticket into the american ballet theatre. anna ultimately accepted the scholarship.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

this all, however, suddenly stopped when anna picked up her latest scam: faking psychic. through a small network of ‘bees’ she’d pay to gather information (gossip, rumors, etc. etc.) she was able to accurately ~see~ into students’ past, present, and potentially future affairs. the money was very worth it.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

when anna was 16 she was handpicked to join the american ballet theatre’s studio company, alongside 11 other lucky individuals. her dream from that point forward was to become the youngest principal ballerina for abt - and she was going to start by winning over the role of clara in their production of the nutcracker.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

the final week before her first performance as clara, anna got into a car accident heading home after another tiresome rehearsal. knocked unconscious, anna woke up three days later with no recollection of the accident - and her leg freshly operated on.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

for the remainder of her high school life, anna dedicated the majority of her time towards recovery, her writing, and directing her school’s theatre productions. oh - and claiming that almost dying had given her the gift of mediumship. it wasn’t too far off from her psychic claims - her peers believed it well enough to either stay away, or pay her for a small amount of comfort.

decided to attend yates for their reputation despite her hatred for pretentious schools (very ironic because she herself is pretentious) & also. she had a scholarship <3 so.

in the midst of writing her first book that’s based heavily on her experiences as a low income student at a private school but like. she’s side-eying all these societies and seeing a Big Money Grab if she were to. write abt them instead

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors & still tends to barge her way into theatre rehearsals to <3 give her unwarranted opinion

personality & facts.

she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

doesn’t really have the best … relationship with authority, mainly because of where she was raised and her con-artist businesses. tends to be snarky and sarcastic to anybody in charge - or really, anybody in general.

pretty distrusting, pretty emotionless on the outside, doesn’t like to be seen as weak or somebody to be pitied. keeps herself closely guarded and doesn’t really let others ‘inside’ due to her own comfort levels.

she’ll sleep around but dating is out of the question, for the most part - she’s been on a few blind dates, a few casual get-togethers - but she’s always the one to break things off. is more of a careful hook-up kind of gal.

still does her psychic medium business !! sometimes she wonders if she’s a bad person because of it - but ultimately, it’s on her customers for believing in all that nonsense anyway. anna herself is a skeptic - doesn’t believe in anything unless she can see it and feel it.

is actually … a pretty sentimental person, doesn’t take anything she’s got for granted, and is hugely appreciative of her father. sends him money when she can. hasn’t spoken to her mother in years - pretty sure she’s got a step / half-sibling or two but she’s never met them.

a lone wolf and likes it that way, but she isn’t super opposed to friendship - even if she won’t necessarily call anybody a friend. appreciates others who are similar to her - got their head on right, and knows what they want in life.

has a pretty bad fear of driving - will uber if she needs to go anywhere - even then, being in cars makes her pretty anxious. still has ptsd-induced panic attacks, though she’s managed them pretty well.

doesn’t really do drugs! will smoke weed to ease the ache and her nerves, but otherwise she only takes what is prescribed for her. doesn’t drink anything hard, either. big fan of beer and wine. probably gets wine drunk home alone late at night … like … two times a week.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain - took advantage of the archery club at her private school. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

wanted connections.

who do u think i am ;; either uh. people who have seen her around campus being a bit of a freak like <3 kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage <3 or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat near her so she could pet it <3 or having a that’s so raven moment <3 or someone who tried to help her out with something and she was like. excuse me. what the fuck. get away from me freak loser. maybe threatened them.

slowburn but make it evil ;; uh. when i played her as older she hd a plot where she <3 ws engaged n then broke it off bcos her fiance cheated <3 so i wld like another. plot where she actually <3 tries to enjoy someone else’s company and presence and it just ends up hurting her n reaffirming her idea tht love is? fake n dumb n stupid. thank u.

ykno ... a little dash of spice ... ;; uh. yknow just hookups. hateships <3 or they never talk abt what happened <3 or an awkward drunk one night stand <3 maybe a pregnancy scare and shes like Ah. motherhood Scares me. because she <3 hates her own mother <3 LDSLKFHLGSHLK. it leaves their relationship rly weird the whole ordeal ... maybe even just a blind date <3 or someone she ghosted

read my future ;; customers very classic uh. just people who come to her for her psychic readings <3 and her uh. talking to the dead <3 but also alternately. skeptics ?? people suspicious of her ?? very epic.

like actually Die? ;; enemies. she hates them so bad. maybe its one-sided. maybe theyre an annoyance. maybe she annoys them? very bad not very good.

and we dance dance dance, dance dance dance <3 ;; this is just. fr ballet students. or, hold up, consider this: someone who recognizes her frm this. very tragic event where she cld no longer b a ballerina bc i think it ws. like not the Biggest deal bt if ur muse ran in private school circles ykno ??

pet the feral cat ;; these r the soft <3 normal connections <3 someone she’s soft for / protective of. friends that she doesn’t completely hate.

i Do Not Know ;; i will. take anything. please. weed dealers, people she’s totally sus about for no reason. she steals and reads their mail. they have been rivals for years. they hv a special bond. they r strangers but they get stuck in an elevator. she’s tutoring them bt she wont let them take a break n she keeps making them recite fucking. shakespeare. anything is sexy and fun n cool

#yatesintro #car accident tw #injury tw #ptsd tw

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hpswl-cumbercookie · 5 years ago

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Ballet!Lock Rec List

And we’re back! This week I would like to offer for your perusal, an amazing selection of ballet!lock fics! Ballet!Lock in my opinion is a vastly underappreciated trope that I happen to adore. If you’ve never read it, I urge you to give it a shot, because it is so much fun. If you have read Ballet!Lock before, I hope these recs help you find more amazing stories to read. Feel free to squee over these with me at any time, I will happily accept fanbuddies. Anyways, here are my searches that I used, although some of these recs did come off of my bookmark list. Search 1 Speaking of my bookmarks list, if for some reason, you cannot find a rec list of mine on my blog, every fic that I rec can also be found in my ao3 bookmarks list under the title of the list.

Brooklyn Heat, Summer Jazz by Zigster aka @zigster-ao3

Words: 42k Chapters: 10 Rating: Explicit

"There was, however, one thing that made it easier to stay on his piano bench every day. One thing that kept John Watson showing up to class on time, every morning at ten with a large thermos of honeyed tea and a conviction to see a job well done. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was the most confounding and extraordinary thing John had ever come across - the most exotic of birds and the most unattainable of men."

A ballet and jazz-centric AU

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier

Words: 44k Chapters: 1 Rating: Explicit

Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

For Dreaming and for Dancing by ReaderWriterPoet

Words: 1.9k Rating: Mature

Sherlock is retiring from the stage and only one thing is absent- his boyfriend of seven years, Captain John Watson.

ILYSB by Coldersongs

Words: 6.5k Rating: Mature

John's worked his entire life for his opportunity to become his full rugby-playing potential.

Sherlock's the graceful dancer that he falls in love with.

(Just another rugby playing John and dancer Sherlock fic)

Coming To See The Show by meandmybrokenfeels

Words: 719 Rating: Gen

Sherlock invites John to see one of his solo performances.

Sign Please by green_violin_bow

Words: 3.5k Rating: Teen

Sherlock lived in John's room on campus last year, and now John keeps having to sign for weird parcels from one Mycroft Holmes. One day, enough's enough, and he goes to find the intended recipient of two (separately-delivered) smelly old boots, a fake passport and visa, a highly professional-looking set of lockpicks, and a fresh human brain...

From a Tumblr prompt by @alexxphoenix42 - thank you so much, hope you enjoy!

Take Me To Church by Daziechane

Words: 6.5k Rating: Mature

John’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he clocked in for another shift.

Sherlock’s days blurred. It didn’t even bother him anymore, that he wasn’t onstage. At least, that’s what he told himself every time he stepped into 221B.

Entree Adagio Variation Coda by tiger_in_the_flightdeck

Words: 10k Rating: Teen

Sherlock is injured on a case, and John blames himself. It's his job to keep him safe, and he failed. Determined not to allow himself to fall behind again, John takes up training.

Meanwhile, Sherlock follows suit and goes back to dance. The perfect way to communicate for two men who can't bring themselves to say the words they've been thinking for so long.

Props by LadyKailitha

Words: 16k Chapters: 8 Rating: Mature

When ballet virtuoso, Sherlock Holmes gets a table at the fanciest restaurant in town for his mother's birthday, he didn't expect the maitre d' to give his table away to rugby champion, John Watson. John, gracious as he is good-looking, offers to share the table.

Sparks fly.

Atelophobia and Arabesques by dreadpiratewatson

Words: 4.5k Rating: Teen

Sherlock Holmes takes ballet very seriously. He has an audition lined up with the Royal Academy of Dance, and he's willing to do anything to get the position, and be absolutely perfect, even run himself into the ground.

John Watson has something to say about that.

The Dancer and the Captain by Mssmithlove

Words: 17k Rating: Explicit

Ballet has always been Sherlock's first love, but when a certain rugby captain starts hanging around, well, that may just change.

Waldosia by milou407

Words: 2.5k Rating: Gen

(n) A condition characterized by scanning faces in a crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there.

Waiting for you outside - JW

Sherlock felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest, and he felt an enormous smile break across his face.

Overture by dreadpiratewatson

Words: 29k Chapters:14 Rating: Mature

Sherlock Holmes, a shy, aloof ballet dancer, loves ballet, and ballet only. He tried it once, being in love, but after humiliation and heartbreak, he swore it off forever. Then, John Watson comes along, and turns his world upside down The kindhearted rugby captain sits on the studio floor just inches from him, laughs at his dry sense of humor, waits for him after dance, and drives him home afterwards. Sherlock wants him, but how can someone so undeserving and incapable of love think that someone as wonderful as John Watson would ever love him back?

Many Things by imaqualady

Words: 499 Rating: Gen

Watson's bringing his girl to practice, or, at least, that's what the boys think.

His First Bow by RoseGoldAmpersand

Words: 1.5k Rating: Explicit

Sherlock's just finished his first professional performance, but his high is sobered by his suspiciously absent boyfriend.

Relief in Breathing by Brokenpitchpipe

Words: 5k Rating: Teen

He can’t believe this- this is Sherlock Holmes, for god’s sake. The boy who can be found smoking the last of the day’s pack of cigarettes at lunch hour. The boy who rides a bloody motorcycle to school and back. For fuck’s sake, he’s pretty sure that Sherlock Holmes is in one of his classes, but hell if John’s ever actually seen him there.

And he does ballet?

Out of Step by prettysailorsoldier

Words: 13.5k Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Balletlock, with Sherlock dancing in The Nutcracker as the Nutcracker, and John is a stage guy, and they start a showmance or something - bestcoastisthewestcoast

Prompt: Nutcrackerlock! - anon

John is surprisingly at peace with the recent changes in his life, taking a job as the rugby coach at a secondary school after being discharged from the army, but, when he finds out being part of the school community also means helping out with the annual Christmas production, he's slightly less keen on the whole affair. That is, until an old pupil of the dance teacher shows up, a man by the name of Sherlock Holmes, but will their backstage romance be a box office hit, or a grade A blunder?

#cc rec list #fic rec #fanfic rec #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #sherlock #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fic #sherlock fanfiction

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silverwhiteraven · 5 years ago

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Not a Rabbit in the Magician's Hat

Chapter 1: The Nutcracker

[A/N: Hello and welcome to my first ever chapter fic, second MLB based fic, third fanbased work, and fourth work I've worked on in earnestly in a long time!! Thank you so much for reading, and small shout to my FeliNette Discord Server peeps for inspiring me! I hope y'all like it~!! [Posted on Ao3] [Also the title is a bit of a WIP, it may change, eventually]]

[Summary: Félix is back, and with the same goal in mind as the year before. Only now, he has to plays the long game. And play a little more nice, too, except he's no longer on the playground he's used to, oh no. Now, Félix is among the heroes with a Miraculous of his own, and the playground is now a much more difficult battlefield with new pieces in play. And to top it all off, he has to deal with a whole new school and all the people inside. This is going to be tricky, isn't it? And to think, it wasn't a rabbit keeping a magician company, no, its a mouse or two keeping tabs on this master of slight-of-hand. At least it was somewhat fitting, even if he didn't like being called a rat every so often.]

Ladybug gazed over the scene before her, taking in all that she could. The Akuma, Mazer, had fused the walls of buildings together seemingly randomly, eliminating alleyways and cutting off streets, turning the city of Paris into a giant and infinite maze, much resembling a labyrinth with the Eiffel Tower at its center. Wandering between the walls of the giant maze were minotaur-like golems, chasing and trapping anyone they encountered.

Almost like a prize at the end of a game, Mazer's Akumatized object, a compass, hung in the air between the beams of the tower, surrounded by several layers of cage walls, too tightly woven to climb through and too far apart between layers to Cataclysm in one shot.

Ladybug really didn't like this.

After long moments of quiet surveying and pondering, she did the first thing that she knew how to do best: summon her Lucky Charm for a clue.

Down from the sky and into her open palm came a Nutcracker.

She barely needed to glance around without seeing anything useful to know that this truly was a hint rather than an actual piece of a puzzle like her Charms usually were. It wasn't lost on her that there was a theme emerging.

She looked at the maze, full of half-bull monsters needed distracted, then to the small spaces between the bars of the cages around the Akumatized object, then down to nutcracker, and lastly, almost reluctantly, up at Chat Noir beside her, watching her with silent curiosity and anticipation. She smiled with confidence in herself and her gut feeling about this.

"Chat, I know you trust me, and I trust you, too."

"Of course, Bug, what brought this on?" He tilted his head in a curious manner, a slight grin gracing his features.

"Switching things up a bit. You're not playing decoy this time. In fact," she states almost mischievously as she stands, "you'll be finding one. I need to go get a Miraculous, and you get to pick who uses it."

She smiled as she watched him spring to his feet, excitement written all over him with the possibilities he could choose from.

"Stay here, and don't get in trouble, I'll be back in a flash!"

She found herself curious, too, as she swung away through and over the walls of the maze, back towards home. She didn't know the right person for the Miraculous she was going to get, yet she had the feeling Chat Noir did. She looked at the Nutcracker in her hand, wondering if it would have a different meaning in Chat's eyes.

She landed on her balcony and slid into her room through the open skylight, de-transforming and making her way below her bed to her work area, setting the Nutcracker to the side. Se knelt in front of a large box marked "Old Designs" that sat below the desk, opening it with a key hidden under her shirt.

It was a large version of her diary's trap box, designed to keep the Miracle Box safe and secure. She pulled out the red and black Box, pressing one of the spots gently. The spot slid out, revealing a hollow, open topped tube with a Miraculous nestled into shimmering grey velvet.

She gently lifted the pendant necklace, the Miraculous of the Rat, out of its drawer. The theme she had noticed earlier had pointed rather obviously towards it. A maze, a goal where only something small could reach, and multiple enemies needing distracting by more than simply two or three heroes could provide.

The nutcracker Lucky Charm hinted at it, too, the main enemy in the story The Nutcracker was the Rat King. But she had a feeling that it had more than one reason for taking that form.

She set the Miraculous into a round black jewelry box, which she had made to resemble the spots on the Miracle Box. She couldn't exactly reuse the old boxes from Master Fu, she didn't have enough of them, and she was guilty of wanting the smaller individual boxes to match the large one's new design. And design she admittedly didn't like very well. She wished the Box had been transferred to 'Marinette' and not 'Ladybug', but no time to dwell on that again.

Still, one of these days she was going to test if she can transfer it from her hero identity to her civilian one.

Locking the Miracle Box back up and transforming once more with Tikki, Ladybug grabbed the Lucky Charm Nutcracker and left her room, returning to Chat Noir who had loyally and wisely kept his distance from the Akuma and the minotaur golems.

He looked to her, giddy and expectant, waiting for his instructions. She looked back at him with pride, full of joy for having him as a partner.

They had their rough patches in their first year, plenty really, but after she became Guardian and was faced with the need and requirement to know his civilian identity, things truly began to get much smoother.

She learned he was Adrien Agreste, one of her best friends, the popular, quiet and sweet model of the class. He was the boy who was so amazingly attentive to emotions that he helped her civilian self realize within a few days of meeting that she didn't have a crush on Adrian so much as a "squish": a want to be his friend. She had a feeling it was good that he spoke to her about why she was acting odd, she's quite sure things would have gotten a bit out of hand if her thoughts, emotions and behavior went unchecked.

Learning his identity under the mask also helped to clear a few misunderstandings with Chat Noir.

For example, Marinette had learned a few months into knowing Adrien that he was Ace. He still wanted a partner in life, he made sure to clarify that he was not Aro, and he paid much more attention to emotions because he wanted to be certain of who he wanted, who he would give himself to and who he would accept for himself.

But his home life wasn't the best place emotionally, only getting worse after his Mother disappeared, and that followed him in his public life, too, including at school, so he didn't have many outlets for his canned affections for the people he loved and cared for. Learning this, she understood why Chat Noir would often be overflowing with energy and positive emotions, showering Ladybug in his abundance of love.

He admitted he did consider her romantically, but only as a secondary to her status as his super-best friend. He respected her feelings, even from the start, and she appreciated it endlessly. Though she had to admit, it was rather confusing at first, and a bit aggravating when it came out at the wrong times. She didn't help much at first, either, as her attempts to be somewhat emotionally closed off and professional while behind the mask made their communication and even trust rather lacking.

So learning he was Adrien allowed her to understand him far more, and lead her into working on herself for his sake as well, not just her own. She relaxed and allowed herself to be far more open, even invited him to outings around Paris, opening him up to vent all his pent up emotions, both negative and positive, and that in turn lead to better performances against Akuma. Chat hasn't been controlled or tapped out of existence in over nine months.

It was truly a blessing for them for her to know, the good luck of it no longer disguised behind the stressful possibility of them becoming endangered by knowing.

In fact, barely a week after finding out, Ladybug told Chat that she knew, and offered to let him know her identity as well. He declined with the widest grin on his face, saying he wanted it to be kept secret, leave the reveal to be a special moment, or even something he might discover on his own. They laughed together, and she told him she wouldn't hide from him if he ever did decide to change his mind and take a peek behind her mask.

But enough of that, ladybug returned his excitable grin and held out the black jewelry box and the red and black Lucky Charm.

"Chat Noir, this is the Miraculous of the Rat which grants the power of Multiplication. You will find someone to use it for the greater good. As soon as the mission is over, they shall return the Miraculous to you, and you shall return it to me. I'm counting on you."

The sun was in his smile and the stars were in his eyes as he took the small box and the nutcracker. She just knew this was a good choice, she could feel it as deeply as their very bond ran. A bod she could feel strengthen as she trusted him with another new thing. He's her partner after all, a fellow protector of the lives of Paris, she would trust him with her own life, too, as well as the responsibility of all the Miraculous they had in their hands.

"I won't let you down, see you soon, Ladybug," and with that he was gone. She watched him go, waiting for him to disappear before she took up his spot of waiting and task or keeping an eye on the Akuma victim.

❇❇❇

It had been almost a year since Félix had last set foot in Paris. He has since mellowed out from his mischievous habits, grown aggressive around the time of his Father’s death, but it didn't stop him from still knowing and utilizing his skills when the need arose. The distance from the city however did no good for his grudges against either his family-in-law or the heroes of Paris.

During a video call with Adrien a few months back, his cousin's father had walked in, reminding Adrien of a previously arranged engagement. He barely spared Félix a glance before leaving, yet the young Graham de Vanily still noticed a little, majorly significant detail about the old Agreste.

A silver wedding band still sat upon his finger.

Félix was suspicious in an instant, even going so far as to end his call with Adrien sooner than intended, and brought the revelation straight to his mother. They brainstormed together, considering the options and possibilities that this brought.

How did he have the other ring of the twin set? They thought Emilie had gone missing, her half of the set should have gone missing with her. They didn't like the churning of their stomachs that thought gave them, the Graham de Vanily pair didn't like the possibility that Gabriel Agreste could have something to do with Amélie's twin, Félix's aunt, Adrien's Mother, the man's own wife, going missing.

Félix may have had a grudge against Gabriel for having one the Graham de Vanily's family rings, but having had both while neither belonged to him, while Emilie didn't even have hers? It was unforgivable.

Trying to negatively influence the Agreste image through the use of his similar looks to Adrien was a jab at the old Agreste, but it had never been enough, especially now, in light of this disastrous news.

Even that stunt with Ladybug wouldn't have worked well enough to knock the man down from his pegs.

Félix had yet to tell his Mother the full extent of what had happened that day in Paris. He quickly realized afterwards that he regretted what happened, and would have regretted it still either way if he had succeeded.

Kissing her would have gotten him nowhere with slandering the Agreste family. Ladybug seemed like the person to keep problems she had with people to herself, not make them public, so that plan would have failed anyway. Yet the kiss itself would also have been regretted. Giving his first to a hero he didn’t know for the sake of a half-baked hope to get a strike against the older Agreste, and have a little ammo against his cousin if need be, too, was a terrible idea, and there was no way he would ever attempt it, or anything like it, ever again.

Even if it was for his Mother’s sake.

There will always be other plans and strategies, he just needed to think of them, and think them through this time, no more spur of the moment ideas.

Still, Ladybug didn’t need to punch him as hard as she did… It was a good hit at least.

He may not hold a grudge for the strike that she was perfectly and fully allowed and entitled to do in reaction to his actions, but he certainly held one against the Black Cat.

That stupid comment, how dare here, Félix thought. He really did non want to think about that, especially since it still hung true in spite of his better efforts.

The young Graham de Vanily forced his attention away from himself and the past year, and instead looked out one of the dining room windows of the Graham de Vanily’s newest manor estate located in Paris, France. The city looked disheveled and unorganized, a true labyrinth maze fashioned perfectly for the latest Akuma.

He hoped it was dealt with soon, he needed to go greet his Uncle Gabriel and Cousin Adrien at their manor later, inform them of his family’s plans to stay in Paris, hopefully without giving any real intentions away with failed attempts to cover up his seething hostility towards his Uncle and whatever he had to do with his Aunt Emilie’s disappearance.

“Felix!” called an overly joyous and too familiar voice from behind, and the said boy, pulled from his thoughts, whipped around in alarm.

Crouched on the dining room table just like any normal cat that shouldn't be there, a window open wide behind him, was Chat Noir, a cheshire grin and gleeful eyes locked and aimed directly at Félix.

He decided to ignore the fact that there was an out of place, red and black nutcracker in one of the hero’s hands. His mother had joked he was just as stiff as one, once, and if he wasn’t so mean or even cold-shouldered towards people his own age, he would be just as princely as the one in the tale, too. Yes, he much prefers not to think of that at the moment.

As he looked at the Black Cat, Félix was starting to regret coming to Paris for another visit. He had a sneaking suspicion that the heroes were going to be popping up around him without warning all over again, and with more frequency now that his visit was going to be indefinite rather than limited to a day.

Gods, he bet the Akuma were going to be showing back up to haunt him, too. Oh, what kind of luck he must have to have gotten this kind of fate.

Félix crossed his arms in a defiant, almost proud manner as he settled his weight on one foot and stared down the famous Black Cat of Paris. “What do you want, stray? I won’t have you mocking my friendships again, and I won’t be making the same mistake twice, so you can leave back out the way you came.”

Chat Noir looked momentarily shocked before hunching and smiling sheepishly, sliding off the table to stand properly on the floor. “I wanted to apologize, actually.”

Félix’s arms loosened with shock of his own, but managed to remain crossed. He looked Chat Noir up and down, looking for any signs of deceit.

He found none, just a regular hero trying to make amends in the middle of a rather pressing Akuma attack. What odd timing.

He supposed, however, that almost a year wasn’t all that bad a wait for an apology, considering there really was no possible proper way for the hero to make an apology to someone living in an entirely different country. And he couldn't very well expect everyone to be like Adrien, his overly sweet cousin who would catch when he said something wrong before Félix had enough time to fully react and would amend himself just as quickly. He was lucky for his cousin, the least he could do was count his blessings and give others the chance to make things right as well.

Felix shifted onto his other foot a bit awkwardly and nodded once in a stern yet accepting manner. “Go on.”

The Black Cat seemed to relax at that, standing us straight and looking Félix in the eye with determination and a hint of respect.

“Félix, I’m sorry, for what I said to you last time you were- well, last time I encountered you in Paris. What I said about your friendships was spur of the moment and defensive of the people I care for, but it was rude and mean, you didn’t deserve that. I would have apologized then and there, but the Trio of Punishers going after Adrien- well, you- arrived a bit too soon for me to do that. So I’m here now.”

The crashing steps of one of the stone minotaurs outside interrupted the black clad hero for a moment, and a look that seemed like he was reminded of something crossed the hero’s face, morphing his speech into something a bit more rushed.

“Right, anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry, again, I really am. You don’t have to forgive me or anything, I just want you to know that I at least don't hold anything you did against you, for whatever reason you did it.”

The Black Cat then tilted his head a degree, a curious look on his face. “Though, I guess I would like to know why, I really should ask why before I do anything else.”

Félix sighed, dropping his head and shaking it gently. Of course the hero would ask, why wouldn't he. Adrien had been respectful enough not to pry, but this was a hero, a protector of an entire city, cat-like curiosity aside, he had a duty to know things and protect people with that knowledge.

“I assume you mean my actions towards Adrien and his friends, and Hawkmoth as well. I suppose I can tell you, but I won’t hesitate to pull your tail and twist your ears if you tell anyone else besides Ladybug.”

Félix’s weight shifted once more and his arms uncrossed, hand set to his hips as he raised his head and looked the hero in his unnatural green eyes. Chat Noir mimicked his shifting around, though now his arms were the ones that were crossed, preparing himself for whatever he was about to hear.

The hero gave an accepting nod, “Not a word. Go ahead.”

Félix hesitated only a split moment before answering.

“I was after the Graham de Vanily twin rings, family heirlooms that Gabriel Agreste was in possession of. They’re important to my family, I wanted to get the one Uncle had, and give it to my mother. I had nothing against Adrien, not really, even if he did think I did. I was rather convincing in that front. No, It was all just jabs toward Uncle, even… even that rather brash and rash moment with Ladybug, which I do regret fully.”

Félix looked away for a moment as he continued.

“I wanted Hawkmoth’s help in getting those rings, I figured he could do it when I couldn't earlier that day. I failed at that, but I did manage to get the ring from Uncle’s finger anyways before I left.” He looked back towards Chat Noir, who was considering him thoughtfully.

“I did, however, find out some time later I failed anyways.”

That seemed to catch the Black Cat off guard for a moment. “How so? You have his ring, what could you have done wrong?”

“I underestimated him. I found out by chance that he had both rings.”

The hero’s eyes went wide in comprehension of what that could imply. The look made it clear that the Black Cat knew at least a little bit of the happenings of the Agreste family, and what a terrible thing it could possibly mean for Emilie Agreste if Gabriel really did have her ring while she was assumably missing.

Chat Noir almost looked like he wanted to argue, to deny, and to question Félix more all at once, but he kept quiet, his mouth firmly closed. Félix let him stand there and ponder it for a moment before bringing up the much more pressing concern at the moment.

“So, Chat Noir, why are you here? Paris is currently under siege, right? Why be here making yourself on good terms with a citizen when you could be fixing that instead?”

The look of reminder crossed the hero’s face again and Félix almost wanted to roll his eyes at how many things this stray needed to keep track of. He almost felt a bit bad for him, today was clearly busy, if not a bit overwhelming.

“Right!” The hero got a look of excitement, “Now that's cleared up, I need your help! Well, want your help, but it would be purrfurrable if you did agree to lend a paw.”

“A paw.” Félix gave a mildly surprised yet very skeptical look. “What kind of, ‘paw’,” he quoted, hiding instinctive air quotes behind his back now that the cat themed hero decided to leak his puns into their serious conversation, “do you need lended.”

The smile of the Black Cat once more turned cheshire.

“Félix Graham de Vanily,” the destructive half of the Paris hero team spoke like he was a king appointing a new knight, his hand suddenly coming out towards him, a black box clutched in his fingers, “This is the Miraculous of the Rat, which grants the power of Multiplication. If you choose to accept, you will use it for the greater good. Once our mission is over, you will return the Miraculous to me, or Ladybug if I’m not there. Can we trust you?”

#félix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #Not a Rabbit in the Magician's Hat #MLB #fanfic #rat miraculous #ace!adrien #writing #willowbendt

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bounablog · 4 years ago

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Here this post i will talk about my role model is " Tupac Shakur ".

I still remember the first time i heard tupac song i was like 6 years old and his song was playing on the radio it was " ghetto gospel "

ever since this song i just can't stop loving him and get deep with all his songs🎧.

You know why? because all his song lyrics are so real and have meanings.

i call him my role model because he respect women, he want to make changes and he speak the truth he doesn't care what anyone say about him that's why i admire him a lot.

As he said

“I’d rather die like a man, than live like a coward.”

Fact About Tupac

Tupac Shakur, in full Tupac Amaru Shakur, original name Lesane Parish Crooks, bynames 2Pac and Makaveli, (born June 16, 1971, Brooklyn, New York, U.S.—died September 13, 1996, Las Vegas, Nevada). " but to be honest is still believe he is alive 🤪 "

American rapper and actor who was one of the leading names in 1990s gangsta rap.

In 1990 he joined Digital Underground, an Oakland-based rap group that had scored a Billboard Top 40 hit with the novelty single “The Humpty Dance.” Shakur performed on two Digital Underground albums in 1991, This Is an EP Release and Sons of the P, before his solo debut, 2Pacalypse Now, later that year.

In 1992 Shakur joined the ranks of other rappers-turned-actors, such as Ice Cube and Ice-T, when he was cast in the motion pictureJuice, an urban crime drama. The following year he appeared in Poetic Justice, opposite Janet Jackson, and he released his second album, Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z. The album did not stray far from the activist lyricism of his debut, but singles such as “Holler If Ya Hear Me” and “Keep Ya Head Up” made it much more radio-friendly

In later 1995, after being convicted of molestationand becoming a victim of a robbery and shooting, Shakur became heavily involved in the growing East Coast–West Coast hip hop rivalry.His double-disc album All Eyez on Me (1996) became certified Diamond by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).On September 7, 1996, Shakur was shot four times by an unknown assailant in a drive-by shooting in Las Vegas; he died six days later and the gunman was never captured. The Notorious B.I.G., Shakur's friend turned rival, was at first considered a suspect, but was also murdered in another drive-by shooting several months later. Five more albums have been released since his death, all of which have been certified Platinum.

Shakur is one of the best-selling music artists of all time having sold over 75 million records worldwide. In 2002, he was inducted into the Hip-Hop Hall of Fame.In 2017, he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility.[16]Rolling Stone named Shakur in its list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time. Outside music, Shakur also gained considerable success as an actor, with his starring roles as Bishop in Juice(1992), Lucky in Poetic Justice (1993) where he starred alongside Janet Jackson, Ezekiel in Gridlock'd (1997), and Jake in Gang Related (1997), all garnering praise from critics.

School Years

In 1984, Tupac's family moved from New York City to Baltimore, Maryland.He did eighth grade at Roland Park Middle School, then two years at Paul Laurence Dunbar High School. On transfer to the Baltimore School for the Arts, he studied acting, poetry, jazz, and ballet. He performed Shakespeare's plays—depicting timeless themes, now seen in gang warfare, he would recall—and the Mouse King role in The Nutcracker ballet.With his friend Dana "Mouse" Smith as beatbox, he won competitions as reputedly the school's best rapper Known for his humor, too, he could mix with all crowds. Among his choice music as a teen were Kate Bush, Culture Club, Sinéad O'Connor, and U2.

At Baltimore's arts high school, Tupac befriended Jada Pinkett, who would become a subject of some of his poems. After his death, she would call him "one of my best friends. He was like a brother. It was beyond friendship for us. The type of relationship we had, you only get that once in a lifetime."Yet otherwise, upon connecting with the Baltimore Young Communist League USA,he dated the daughter of the director of the local chapter of the Communist Party USA.[45] In 1988, Shakur moved to Marin City, California, a small, impoverished community, about five miles or eight kilometers north of San Francisco. In nearby Mill Valley, he attended Tamalpais High School, where he performed in several theater productions

In the end as i know he respects women because he raised around them with them.

It’s the game of life. Do I win or do I lose? One day they’re gonna shut the game down. I gotta have as much fun and go around the board as many times as I can before it’s my turn to leave. - Tupac

#2pac #tupacshakur #2paclife #Rap #best #music

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annabcll · 5 years ago

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MEDALION RAHIMI / CIS FEMALE. — annabel majidi is really making a name for themselves as a tier 2 shepherd. i think that she is studying english + investigative journalism in their junior year at lockwood, living in audax. originally from new york city, new york, anna is known to be diligent & adroit, but can also be cynical & austere. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

4/5 !!! so close !! anna doesn’t really have ... any changes to her, except for her connections to the victims section so :^)

TW POVERTY, CAR ACCIDENT, INJURY, DEATH MENTION, GRIEF MENTION

a e s t h e t i c s

falling feathers darkened at the tips, leather jackets and pinstripes, red trenchcoats and plaid skirts, worn ballet shoes covered in dust, smudged eyeliner and unruly hair, boxing gloves, ornate canes and pain medication, bandaged hands, classical music floating throughout an empty ballroom, bomber jackets and cropped tees, spilled ink and stained hands, glasses skewed, sneers and jabs, constant fighting, smog in a city, spotlights and encores, piles of books and a long line, backless dresses and sitting alone at a bar, wariness.

general info !!

full name: annabel odeda majidi

nickname(s): anna, annie (hates), anna banana (father, exclusively)

b.o.d. - october 31st. scorpio child.

label(s): the catalyst, the charlatan, the crepehanger, the minefield

height: 5′6″

hometown: nyc, ny

sexuality: bisexual

stats

biography !!

parvana picked up a job in order for them to keep affording the lessons, month after month - they weighed down on their pockets, but it kept anna happy.

flash forward a few years - life was good. money was still a struggle but they were tight knit.

or rather, anna thought they were tight knit.

when anna was twelve, she swore she would never fall in love - refused to believe in its existence. she couldn’t wrap her mind around the simple separation.

so anna decided to do what any average 12 year old would do. she started scamming people.

high school was immediately hell for her - pretentious rich kids who all shared a collective brain cell and her secondhand uniform being a prime target for them.

ballet got extremely competitive - anna was a threat to every dancer in their program, bullying and sabotage became standard - but anna retaliated when possible.

from that point forward, people were intimidated by her.

she was 17 when she was chosen, much to the dismay of the other girls. she had momentarily quit her ‘psychic’ business in order to dedicate the entirety of her time towards rehearsals & practice.

it was a devastating event that should had killed her - maybe she would had been better off if it had - but instead, it had effectively destroyed any chances of her dancing professionally.

it took two months of extensive physical therapy for anna to walk again - now relying heavily on a cane.

with ptsd and depression weighing heavily on her shoulders, anna turned back to writing - mostly as a coping mechanism, but it soon became the fierce passion it once was when she was younger.

decided to go to lockwood after graduation in order to stay somewhat close to her father - she’s here on a full scholarship for her dual-major in english & investigative journalim

is in midst of writing her first book, based heavily on her experiences as a scholarship student at a private school, YA fiction, essentially - mostly just to dip her toes in the water and to try and become an established author. if it goes well, it’ll become a series.

the watershed app captured her attention immediately, and she’s been slowly trying to work her way up the tiers of shepherds. finds it completely fascinating, and uses it to help with her psychic business.

still can’t dance any longer, but she works as a ballet assistant for one of the dance instructors.

personality !!

lives in audax, where things break A Lot. she’s usually seen threatening RAs and maintenance men until they fix whatever problems. :^)

that being said - she’s not the friendliest person. knows what she wants and how to get it, and will not hesitate to use people or push them out of her way in order to achieve her goals.

her cutthroat nature was the reason for her success in academics and dance - tends to intimidate the students in the ballet classes she helps out in.

horribly stubborn - if she’s got an idea of you already in her mind, then it’s hard to convince her otherwise.

still uses a cane - in fact, she can’t really walk without it - unless she wants to be in pain.

it’s sturdy, ornate, and pretty fucking solid. doubles as a weapon if need be - has definitely … hit people with it before, though she’s calmed down now that she’s a little older.

used to be very angry, very defensive as a teenager - is still the same, just … less intense. will not hesitate to speak her mind and let her opinions known - especially in the face of injustice.

goes between being high strung and uncaring - she’s not especially moody ( rather, is just consistently angry for whatever reasons ) but she definitely tries to bottle everything up.

probably keeps pepper spray on her at all times, even though she’s got her cane. has a gun hidden in her dorm, cat ear brass knuckles on her keychain. she’s not paranoid, she just likes being prepared.

kind of wants to write a novel based off of watershed so! she takes a lot of notes - tends to be very observant.

has a soft spot for children, animals, and soft women. kind of person who will put herself in the line of danger in order to protect others - even if she doesn’t necessarily know them too well.

also the kind of person who’ll set something on fire - or do something because you’ve told her not to. incredibly spiteful when wronged. will raise hell if need be.

morally ambiguous tbh.

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / mutually disliked each other and they’d avoid one another if possible. nobody is quite sure of why - some say it’s because tatiana was skeptical of anna’s psychic business, others say it’s because tatiana had gotten a bad fortune predicting her death.

george craig iii / once a friend of anna’s due to their similar personalities - their friendship was ended because of tatiana. once again - it isn’t quite known why, but it’s been hinted that tatiana had made george choose between her friendship & anna’s. tatiana had been the obvious choice, and that was that.

hana williams / a friend & a client, anna would regularly do tarot readings for hana. after tatiana, anna had tried to keep her readings positive.

christoph wainwright / enemies due to christoph pushing her buttons and generally just rubbing her the wrong way, her own suspicions leading to a natural defense against him, which he reflected.

wanted connections !!

maybe … a roommate?

acquaintances. people who’ve seen her around campus and are curious. people who’ve seen her like … kick someone’s tire in a small fit of rage or spend 20 minutes trying to coax a cat into coming near her so she could pet it.

someone from new york who recognizes her from whatever !! whether it’s from newspaper details of her incident, her legacy at her private school, her legacy as a ballerina before her incident, etc. etc.

has taken up boxing recently - so somebody whose helping her at the gym?

someone who tried to like. help her cross the road or something because they saw her with her cane and she yelled at them so now they’re in this weird spot.

dance students !! if somebody does ballet - she might be helping them.

someone she’s soft for for whatever reason :/

hookups !! of any sort !! the kind where you never talk outside of it, or a hate-fuck scenario … anything !!

customers who come to her for psychic readings and like. comfort in the form of talking to the dead.

people skeptical of her !! maybe trying to ruin her in some way.

other shepherds. someone higher up that she’s trying to manipulate in some way for her own benefits.

a drunk one night stand that neither wants to talk about.

a pregnancy scare with another, separate one night stand! it turned out to be nothing, but there was some. weirdness. between them afterwards.

a blind date or two dnfjgkmh

someone she ghosted :/

ok ok ok so … back when anna was an older muse, she was fresh out of a broken off engagement b/c her husband-to-be cheated on her … so i kinda want … smth similar to happen to her again ? y’know. make her fall in love. break her heart. ruin her again. it’d b fun ! angst is fun !

someone she’s like, protected from a creep at a bar or a club ! and now they feel indebted towards her and she’s just like uuuh no. stop.

annoyances !!

like … maybe a pal or two, or three. mainly just people she gets along with !!

on the other end - something where they just. despise each other for whatever reason. pure hatred.

hatred but make it sexy.

a dealer because even though she can get medical marijuana … it’s good to have a lil extra on ya :)

people She’s suspicious of for whatever reason - someone she caught doing something. suspicious. untrustworthy.

someone where their mail keeps getting mixed up.

uuh really im down for anything !!

#wshintro #car accident tw #injury tw #death mention #grief mention #being poor :/ tw :/#thts a joke im also very poor

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Échappé / Chapter 3 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon

Summary: A community center, about to be demolished, forces prima ballerina Brooke Lynn Hytes to entangle her life with Vanessa “Miss Vanjie” Mateo’s, a stripper determined to save it. While trying to solve their differences, shortage of money, and ever growing sexual tension, they discover how dance is their only common ground to save the center.

A/N: Hi. Hello. How are you? Here’s something that you probably didn’t know about me: my notes are often longer than the actual chapter. So here’s some background story: When svpermodel came to me with this idea aka that time she went on and on and on about this plot on Twitter, I right away pictured: Black Swan meets The Dancing Dolls, and that became the premise of this whole story. For this particular chapter I want to direct your attention to this video: I happened to be in the audience when this was recorded and, lemme tell you, I have never cried with a performance so much in my life. So, when the time comes, and the scene is presented, this is the mental image I want you to have when reading it. For your attention, thank you! -Monkey.

AO3 Link

Chapter 3

All in all, Ben had a very good sense of direction. There was a reason why he was hired as a driver, after all. So, when Brooke asked him to take them back to the community center, the one they had found by mistake while lost, he had no problem getting there.

In the back seat of the black SUV, Brooke looked out the window. Next to her, Katya sang loudly in Russian, completely lost in the music she had specifically brought for the ride.

A lot of thought had been put into the situation. After her less than formal meeting with Vanessa, in the private area of the strip club, Brooke had talked to the head of the ballet company. Even when Brooke was the director, and one of the senior partners, Madam Charles still owned fifty-one percent of the company, and had the final say in the matter.

The conversation hadn’t gone easily. Brooke explained the scenario the best she could. No words could really make Madam Charles comprehend why this particular community center was so important for Brooke. She could barely explain it to herself. All she knew was that she needed to do everything in her power to save it.

The shock came when Madam Charles approved of a donation, and Brooke pointed out they didn’t want it. What they needed were teachers, choreographers, maybe even designers and stylists.

That was too much to ask. They didn’t have time to spare.

The company was only meant to be in Los Angeles for one more month, before moving to the next city. They had been following the same pattern for years. Theaters were booked, rehearsal studios have been rented, and hotel rooms had been arranged. The entire schedule had been lined up for them to be able to travel from one place to the other with ease. If they stopped things then, or delayed even one presentation, the amount of money it could cost would be unimaginable. Not to mention that they needed to end the tour in New York by Christmas day, where they did a special version of The Nutcracker every year.

RuPaul Charles didn’t have to remind Brooke of any of this, she was completely aware of it. That didn’t mean that the list of consequences hadn’t been brought up by the one in charge. Brooke countered with the details that she had gotten from the dancer.

Texting Vanessa had been interesting, to say the least. She was funny, very funny. Sometimes, it was intentional; other times, not so much. Brooke’s favorite was how Vanessa seemed unable to identify her own typos. Brooke would tease her about it and Vanessa, never sure of where the spelling error was, would end up sending the word in Spanish. Whenever Brooke sent her a simple question, she knew better than to expect a simple reply. She often found herself laughing out loud at an answer.

Brooke got as much information about the event as she could. Vanessa didn’t know a lot. The only few things she knew for sure were the amount of numbers they needed to present and, of course, the cash prize if they won. Brooke had to contact people she knew in the dance industry to find out more about it. That was why she was so prepared to negotiate with her superior. There was not a single question that she didn’t already have an answer for.

The competition was in two weeks, the company was still going to be in town by then. She had talked to the other dancers, and they were all willing to help. One day at the time the ballerinas were going to join Brooke in the afternoon, right after rehearsals, practice with the kids, and be back just in time for the show of the night. If any expenses were to rise, Brooke would cover them herself, but they shouldn’t.

Madam Charles, with the lift of a perfectly shaped eyebrow and a lot of doubt filling her chiseled features, had agreed.

The plan had been put into motion right away. Brooke gathered her best friends that same day and they had come up with a plan. She picked the song herself, Nina right away imagined the clothing for the dance, and Plastique complemented the look with the makeup they could use. Detox and Katya helped her with the choreography. Each of the two provided different abilities to the construction of the piece. Detox had the posture and poise, her slow elegant moves, put together with Katya’s flexibility and full control of her elasticity, were the perfect support to bring to life Brooke’s vision.

The category was Contemporary Group Dance. According to Vanessa, she had all the kids practicing for the hip-hop number and the Dance Offs, but she figured she could use the most advanced student and herself for the number. After one more call, Brooke confirmed not only that duos were allowed to perform, but Vanessa could be part of the number being the instructor. They had found their starting point.

Katya had offered herself to be the first one to go with Brooke to visit the center. Her excuse was that she needed to check on the dancers’ limberness before anything else, but Brooke had the suspicion that her interest was set on the makeup artist, rather than the students. She didn’t mind.

Brooke pulled open the doors to the community center. This time Trixie wasn’t there to receive them. A woman with long black hair sat behind the desk instead. Her face was serious as her fingers angrily typed in a computer. Her clothes seemed too tight and her cleavage too deep to be receiving people, but Brooke had learned better than to expect anything from that place. There was something almost intimidating about her. Almost. It took way more than a stern face to throw Brooke Lynn Hytes off balance.

“Is that a karate class?” Katya’s voice, filled with excitement, took Brooke out of her observations.

She watched as her friend wandered off without warning. Nobody stopped her. She couldn’t go too far, Brooke reasoned, and focused her attention on the receptionist.

“Hello, I’m Brooke, I’m here–”

“Yes!” The lady interrupted her, a huge smile spreading across her lips. “Hi. I’m Michelle, I’m the director of the Center. Vanjie has told me so much about you.”

Vanjie.

The name resounded in Brooke’s mind, bouncing against the walls of her head, yet never landing in a place of comprehension. That was Vanessa’s stripper name. The mere thought of the girl having a double life was already too much for Brooke to process, but the fact that she had no problem mixing the two was a whole other level of confusion. There was no shame in what she did, Brooke had learned as much, but Vanessa seemed proud of her profession. She loved to dance, the money was good, the hours were few; the lists of reasons had been more or less convincing. Brooke was trying, but she knew it was going to take a while for her to wrap her mind around it.

She shook Michelle’s hand, still caught up in her thoughts. “I wish I could say the same,” she confessed.

Michelle waved her hand, dismissing the comment. “Don’t worry about it. Things usually slip out of her mind. I mean, I love Vanjie, so much, she’s a beautiful sunbeam, but she can be forgetful.”

Brooke laughed, a warm feeling invading her chest.

“Thank you so much for what you are doing for us,” Michelle continued. “This competition is super important and we really want to give the judges something they haven’t seen before, to show them who we really are.” She walked around the desk as she spoke, and stopped right next to Brooke. “I know you already got a tour of the place but, come with me, I want to show you something.”

Brooke didn’t protest, she followed the director through a small hallway until they reached a bulletin board. Framed in glitter, tons of pictures adorned the piece of drywall. Brooke took a step forward, her fingers ghosting over the images of smiling families, kids dancing, women in gowns, and men playing basketball.

“Those are my babies,” Michelle stated proudly. “I feel very lucky, and very blessed to be a part of this community. We have gone through a lot, you know?” It wasn’t really a question, so Brooke didn’t attempt to answer. “Everybody thinks that LA is nothing but glamour and movie stars, they often forget there are families in need too; moms and dads that can’t make ends meet for their kids.”

A nervous chuckle left Brooke’s lips. “I’m from Toronto, and I can assure you those were exactly my thoughts.”

Michelle smiled. “See? That’s why we need to support each other, help one another.”

She then faced Brooke, placing a soft hand on her arm.

“You have no idea what it meant for us when Vanjie and the girls came to help. Not just with the fundraising, everything has been harmonious and beautiful since they started helping out here. That’s because they are authentic to who they are.”

Brooke could only agree. Vanessa had shown nothing but her true self since the moment they met. In a way, Brooke was almost jealous of how Vanessa carried herself so unapologetically. She told Michelle something along those lines.

There was a knowing smile adorning Michelle’s lips when she replied. “Oh, she’s really good at pretending she doesn’t care what others think. I love her, she’s the sweetest thing ever, but she needs to open up, to allow others in and accept the help when it’s available.”

Brooke knew exactly what she meant. “It seems like she’s always trying to fix everything by herself.”

Michelle nodded. “We are always so used to care for others and we forget about us. How do you think I’ve gained all this weight?”

Her rhetorical question encountered a head shake from Brooke. “I think you have a very lovely shape.”

Michelle laughed, but it sounded sad, forced. It didn’t really reach her eyes.

“I think… all I’m saying is that… we really need you, she needs you.”

Brooke didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting the speech to end that way. Vanessa had assured over and over that she had everything under control. Brooke felt as if she was begging Vanessa to let her help. Hearing from Michelle how that confidence was just a facade, how much Vanessa put up a strong front, made Brooke look at her with brand new eyes.

She swallowed the imaginary lump in her throat before Brooke was able to speak again. “It’s my absolute pleasure.”

They walked to the other side of the center, where the dance practices were already in full motion. Brooke spotted Katya at the back of the room, chatting away with Yvie. Brooke knew they were going to hit it off right away; hopefully, they were already discussing the gymnastic aspects of the plan.

Her attention was immediately called to the opposite direction, when a pop song started playing. Vanessa stood at the front, a group of approximately twenty girls followed her every move. It started slow, with the voice of Britney Spears telling them they needed to work if they wanted to achieve anything in life. It was out of character for Vanessa, who just last week was getting naked to a song with the same theme but a complete different approach. Suddenly the beat dropped, there was the sound of a record scratching, and then the magic happened.

Vanessa whipped her hair from side to side to the rhythm of the remixed version of the original song. The movements were fast, dangerously fast. The scariest part was that the girls behind her never lost a count. Their little heads moved in sync with Vanessa’s as they stomped around the room, changing formations. Every step, every move, and every change of position was perfectly coordinated. They looked like different parts of the same being. The integration of each of the elements of the dance group was like no other Brooke had ever witnessed. They shared the same vision, the same goal. They were one with each other.

The music ended with a bang and they all dropped to the ground at the same time.

Everything was quiet for a second, nothing but their elaborated breathings could be heard.

Brooke didn’t notice she was clapping until her hands stung. Encouraging profanities flew from Katya’s lips, who was standing by her side. She had no recollection of Katya walking her direction.

Vanessa got up with ease, turning to her little dancers. “Alright, y’all, that was nice, that was nice. Now, don’t get too cocky ‘cause them other bitches are gonna be fierce too. I’m not saying we are not, but we gotta be fiercer. So keep on practicing and I wanna see you all here tomorrow, okay? Same time. Don’t be late!”

Her hands closed into fists and rested on her hips. She blinked rapidly, a sign that Brooke had yet to determine what it meant, before she made her way to them.

Katya pushed her playfully as soon as Vanessa was within arms reach. “Oh, my God! That was amazing, you stupid bitch!”

Vanessa smiled shyly, if her face wasn’t already flushed from dancing, she might have blushed at the words. “You really think so? Do you think we have a chance?”

With her mouth opened widely, Katya nodded enthusiastically. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“It was really good,” Brooke assured her. “Really, really good.”

Yvie had made her way to them and joined the conversation. “And just wait until they tell you what they put together for us.”

Suddenly, something seemed to come to Vanessa’s mind. “Oh, shoot!” She turned around, looking desperately around the room. “Ah, good, you haven’t left. Elena, baby, c’mere for a sec.”

Brooke recognized the girl right away. She had been at the park the other day. Even when they had all been amazing, Brooke had a clear memory of this particular girl standing out among the rest. Including during the dance they had just performed, Elena, with her frizzy hair, big smile, and killer moves, had been the focus of attention on more than one occasion.

Katya walked to the sound system and plugged in her phone. “We need you to really pay attention to the song. The whole point of this performance is the interpretation of the lyrics. If you don’t feel it all the way down to your rotten bones, this is not gonna work shit.”

She pressed play and the soft notes of a piano started filling the room.

She’s imperfect, but she tries She is good, but she lies She is hard on herself She is broken and won’t ask for help

Vanessa looked at Brooke, her eyes were tender with understanding. They held each other’s stare as the artist seemed to be singing just for the two of them.

She is gone, but she used to be mine.

Brooked noticed how Vanessa’s face softened. For a moment, she wasn’t an unstoppable bundle of energy anymore, but a girl caught up in the sentiment of a song. The first tear ran down from Vanessa’s left eye. Her hand quickly moved to get rid of it in a rough motion. Brooke shook her head. Her kind stare told her to let it flow, to allow all feelings to run freely. That was the whole point, that was exactly what was needed. The raw emotion that invaded Vanessa was just the start of the magnificent piece they were about to bring to life, and they could use all the sentiment they could put into it.

“I don’t get it,” Elena spoke as soon as the piano faded out. “She’s a girl singing about another girl?” The question was pronounced, bathed in all her eleven year-old innocence.

Brooke walked to her, sitting on her heels in front of her, just like she had done the first time they met. “The girl is talking to herself, sweetheart. You know, sometimes grown-ups make bad decisions and they get hurt. Sometimes they wish there could be a way to go back in time and be who they were before, before they lost themselves. That’s who she’s singing about, herself. She used to be herself, now she’s not.”

Elena’s face twisted in confusion.

Brooke had to try a different approach. “Say, do you love Vanessa?” The girl nodded immediately. She didn’t need to think about her answer. “Okay, then, picture you are Vanessa when she was younger. You want to remind her what it’s like to love herself. That way she can try harder to be herself again, the person that you know she can truly be. That’s what the girl is singing about, and that’s the story you need to tell with your dance. Do you think you can do that?”

That seemed to do the trick, there was one more nod and a smile of understanding.

Brooke smiled right along with her. “Let’s get started then.”

An hour later they were all drenched in sweat, exhausted out of their minds, but extremely satisfied. The basics of the choreography had been put together and it promised to look good.

Vanessa had been struggling a little, since this was not her style at all, but Elena caught on to the vibe right away. She asked questions about the ensemble, clearly trying to figure out the story she needed to tell. Brooke tried to explain that her interpretation was about pain, and disappointment, and how she needed to channel those emotions when dancing.

It seemed like too much to ask for such a young girl but, as Vanessa had confessed at the next rehearsal, Elena had been through a lot. It wasn’t hard to connect her own heartache to the piece. Brooke didn’t know what the poor kid had gone through but, as traumatic as it was, it worked wonders for her take on the performance.

As it turned out, Elena was an innate dancer. Her moves were sharp and her extensions were long. Either Katya or Yvie worked with her every day and were stunned by such pure talent. She understood the meaning of every step and flowed with ease from one sequence to the next.

Her connection to Vanessa was one more thing they were surprised with. The two of them simply clicked. They trusted and supported each other in a way that made the performance seem effortless. The result wasn’t as graceful as Brooke had envisioned it, but that only offered an extra level of rawness to the rehearsal.

It was during one of those practices that Brooke could feel the emotion pouring out of their pores as they danced. Vanessa tried to get a grip of Elena and she kept pulling herself away, just like the performance was meant to be. Vanessa dropped to the ground, holding on to Elena’s leg, begging her not to go away. Elena’s free leg went up in the air, her foot reached way higher than her own head, then she brought it back down, forcefully pushing Vanessa away by the shoulder. Elena let out a loud grunt, captivated by the moment.

“That’s right!” Brooke encouraged her. “You are mad. You are angry. Let her know you are hurting.”

As the singer belted out a long note, Elena did just that. With her hands in tight fists, she started crying, spitting words to Vanessa’s face.

“I hate you!” She screamed with passion. “You never pay attention to me! You are always working and leave me with her! She doesn’t love me, she’s mean to me. I hate you both!” She was crying. She kept shouting but her words were distorted by strong sobs shaking her body.

Vanessa tried to hold her, for real this time, but Elena ran out of the room. Vanessa seemed confused for a second before she took off behind her.

Brooke watched the whole scene in surprise. She looked around. Trixie and Nina were stoning some of the costumes. The same expression could be found on their faces. “What was that all about?” She asked aloud, not sure if anybody had heard it.

“Her mom,” Trixie replied.

Nobody brought the topic back up, and rehearsals continued as planned the next day.

More often than not, Brooke found herself mesmerized by the agony in Elena’s performance. Something in her heart ached but she couldn’t bring herself to ask, and Vanessa never mentioned the outburst again. It was something stuck at the back of everybody’s mind, but they knew better than to push the subject.

The day of the competition reached them way too soon. There were still so many things they wanted to go through again, a lot of details that had yet to be sorted out. Trixie and Plastique were still arguing about makeup. Nina still had outfits with pins in them.

None of that mattered when they arrived at the venue. They could hear all the fuss as soon as they got down from the bus, the one that Brooke had specifically rented for them. Excitement ran through their veins, making them jump with anxiety. The Dream Girls were ready to hit the stage.

They found their dressing rooms and Vanessa gathered them around, instructing them to hold hands in a circle. Elena made sure to grab Brooke’s hand and pull her into the group. Vanessa said a prayer in Spanish. It didn’t matter that Brooke couldn’t understand a word, the power of the plea filled her with hope. She closed her eyes with the rest of them and bowed her head down, asking for someone or something from above to give them the strength and wisdom to make it through the event.

As soon as they were done, Vanessa nerves made her start bouncing on her spot. Brooke placed both her hands on Vanessa’s shoulders and looked at her straight in the eye.

“I believe in you,” Brooke assured her.

The tiniest of smiles appeared on Vanessa’s lips. “At least one of us does.”

Brooke shook her head. “Look around you, they all believe in you. They are here because of you. They are strong, because you are their source of strength. Go out there and kill them death. Eat or be eaten, eh?”

An air of determination washed over Vanessa’s face. “Let’s make them eat it!”

Brooke wished them success, reminding them luck was not needed when they were prepared, and went to find her place at the bleachers. It was a funny sight to say the least. Michelle and Nina sat together, engrossed in conversation. Next to them, Trixie and Katya pushed each other playfully; Detox fruitlessly asked them to calm down and Yvie laughed at the pointless request. The biggest contrast was Plastique and Silky, not only in a physical aspect, but Silky’s loud personality had absolutely nothing in common with Plastique’s demure one. Yet, they had somehow clicked and were now talking amicably.

Brooke tried to mentally recount the last few weeks, trying to find the moment when Vanessa’s world became her own and vise versa. She couldn’t find it, and she didn’t mind.

She sat next to her friends with a smile, and waited for the competition to start.

Vanessa hadn’t lied, the other groups were fierce, to say the least. They had more girls, brighter costumes, bigger hairs, tons of props. Their kicks were high and the death drops wouldn’t stop coming, each more extravagant than the last. Music was clearly highly produced as well. The groups presented intricate mixes with lots of changes and effects. Brooke bit her nails remembering the simple fusion they were presenting as a group number, not to mention the clean acapella song they had for the contemporary category.

It took almost an hour before The Dream Girls could take the stage. Vanessa and the girls did as amazing as Brooke thought they were going to. Vanessa spotted them in the audience right away, and she danced for them, and for them alone. It was as if the rest of the viewers had disappeared and she moved for her friends and nobody else. From their seats they clapped and encouraged the girls as they left their all on the vinyl floor.

The song seemed to be done in the blink of an eye. It was unbelievable how weeks of hard work reduced to just a few minutes, lapse that could make the world stop for a group of young girls.

Deliberation couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes but, for everybody in the gym, it felt like an eternity.

Results were given, not even half of the groups would make it to the next round. Everybody held their breath as teams were announced. With each place that was taken, a bit of Brooke’s confidence died. Then she heard it. The Dream Girls had made it. The last spot was theirs. Brooke jumped in her seat, screaming in utter delight. She didn’t even notice that she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips. The group started hugging each other as they cheered for the girls. They had made it to the next round.

The wait wasn’t as long this time, even when Vanessa and Elena were the last ones to perform their contemporary dance. Brooke felt extremely confident. The other numbers had been good, but she knew nobody was expecting what they had prepared.

The piano started playing and Brooke’s breath caught in her throat. She watched Vanessa and Elena pour their hearts into the dance.

Vanessa crawled across the floor, trying to reach Elena, who turned around and escaped her grip with a foot high in the air. Vanessa was visibly crying by the middle of the song. She missed a few counts but Elena covered for her just fine, imitating the half step Vanessa had skipped to make it look like a canon move. The girl was smart, she was hitting every mark on tempo. She was basically perfect in every form.

Tension was building as they performed a battle of emotions in front of the entire gymnasium. Then the long note came blasting from the speakers. Elena didn’t hold back. She screamed and yelled and cried and sobbed. Her exact words couldn’t be made out but they were not needed. The action was enough to have the audience shedding tears right along with her.

Vanessa kept begging forgiveness, reminded her that she was loved, that she was worth the world, that she mattered, that she was important. Her yelling was louder than Elena’s.

Between sobs and screaming they stopped fighting, they hugged each other, and let everything go inside the other’s arms. Elena bent down, placing one hand under Vanessa’s knees and the other in her back, she picked her up. That wasn’t part of the dance, but she needed it. Vanessa pressed herself against the girl’s chest and her knees gave out. They slowly descended to the floor, curled as close together as it was humanly possible, as the music slowly reached the end of the song.

Silence invaded the room, not a single sound was emitted from the over two hundred people in the place. Then someone sniffed, that was enough to take everybody out of their trance. There were claps, cheers, whistling, and a lot of tears.

Elena and Vanessa got up, their faces were stained with tears, makeup smudged carelessly down their cheeks. Their eyes were wide in disbelief when they were able to register the response from the audience. Everybody was on their feet, giving them the standing ovation they deserved. Wide smiles took over their faces as they thanked the public and ran out to the dressing room area.

Nobody was surprised when they made it to the final round.

The Dance Offs were next. They had practiced, they were prepared for them. The top five dancers had each picked their solo and knew exactly what they needed to do. If everything went as planned, they practically had the entire thing in the bag. They could save the community center.

After a short break. The leader of each dance group pulled out a piece of paper, determining their opponent.

Begging for them to get anyone but one particular group, The AAA Girls, Brooke closed her eyes as Elena placed her hand inside the bowl. Such was her luck, that specific name was written on the paper. The girls were older, more experienced, had bigger budgets. Brooke regretted not insisting more, she could have put in more money to make their girls look better. Vanessa had assured that their technique and personality was going to be enough, that everybody was there for the money, that nobody was going to show up with big stage settings.

Vanessa had been wrong.

It was fine. Everything was going to be okay. If she repeated it enough times, Brooke could make herself believe it. She needed to believe it. The team needed her support. Everything was going to be okay.

The music started, one at the time the girls faced their adversary. The AAA Girls were good, really good. They had been warned about it, but this was something else. Their movements were sensual and exaggerated. They would dance all around the gym, claiming the floor as theirs. They had confidence and the skills to back it up.

Brooke sat at the edge of her seat, and bit the side of her thumb. The Dream Girls were doing okay, but she didn’t think it was going to be enough. If she were the judge in that situation, she would give it to the other team. That was unacceptable. She needed to do something, anything. They couldn’t have gotten so far, worked this hard, to have their dream taken away.

It was the last turn. The girl from AAA was absolutely killing it. Brooke could see the girl from their group was nervous, even if she tried to hide it by looking annoyed. Her turn was up in a few seconds and it was easy to tell she felt anything but ready.

Suddenly, the tune of a familiar song started playing, Brooke remembered fooling around to it during one of the rehearsals. She got an idea.

“Yvie, come on!”

She didn’t even give her time to react, Brooke was already running to the main floor. She let her hair down from the bun, the blonde waves cascading all the way down to her waist. Her skirt was dropped somewhere around the stairs and the shirt fell right after, leaving her in nothing but her bright pink leotard.

Yvie was not far behind, unsure of what was going on, but always game.

They moved sexily around the floor, making sure that all eyes were on them. As soon as the chorus hit, Yvie did a somersault, landing right on the face of the other team.

Brooke spun around, knowing fully well that she could do a triple pirouette without a problem, and dropped to her knees dramatically.

Yvie supported herself on her head, her legs going up and fanning out above her. Brooke copied the move, letting all her weight to fall on her neck and shoulder as she did bicycle kicks in the air. She lowered herself and landed on a split, bouncing on her spread legs as she pretended to check on her nails. They had to let the other team know that kicking their asses was just that effortless.

A loud bang indicated the end of the Dance Off. Brooke was laughing. Her whole body felt on fire. She couldn’t stand still, electricity traveled through her body. She could hear nothing but the beating of her own heart, and the faint sound of cheering in the far distance.

Next thing she knew, Elena’s arms were around her, thanking her for saving them. She expected Vanessa to approach her as well, to congratulate her for the amazing performance. Her eyes travelled around the place, trying to find her to celebrate their victory. Nothing could have prepared her for what she found.

Vanessa stood to the side, her arms tight around her torso, and her face showing nothing but anger.

Brooke walked to her, unable to hide the smile. “Hey! I’m pretty sure we just won this bitch, don’t you think?”

A slow head shake answered her question. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Vanessa’s lips were a thin line. She spun around and stomped her way back to the dressing rooms, leaving Brooke standing alone and confused.

How could she be mad when they had definitely just won?

The audience was going insane, clapping and cheering, ecstatic about the performance they had just watched.

One of the judges requested everybody to settle down, and reminded them the rules of the Dance Offs. He read the pointers but there was only one that needed to be heard. Everything became background noise as they understood what had just happened.

The little stunt Yvie and Brooke had just pulled was enough reason to eliminate The Dream Girls from the competition.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #yvie oddly #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #plastique tiara #silky nutmeg ganache #bendelacreme #michelle visage #rupaul #dance au #lesbian au #echappe #dendenmonmon #detox icunt #submission

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crowleyisms · 5 years ago

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𝓐rchangels and 𝓐dvents - Day 3 Nutcracker

I’m on a roll today with catching up on @drawlight ‘s 31 Days of Ineffables and going strong with day 3. I just got 2 more days to do and then I’m all caught up and can be on the same page as everyone else doing this haha.

Day 3 - Nutcracker

St. Petersburg, Russia December 18th, 1892 Mariinsky Theater

Aziraphale gave a small sigh as he sat in the theater box and watched performance goers come in and fill the seats. It was opening night and he wasn’t sure if he exactly wanted to be here. He had come to St. Petersburg because of getting a memo for doing some temptation work. And while he had been working at it it was honestly a trifling task and not particularly worth his time. But he had heard there was a new performance to be held tonight and admittedly it made him curious. Though with his frustrations he was sure if he was going to be able to fully enjoy himself as people began to settle in and quiet down.

As the curtains pulled back from the stage and the show began Aziraphale made himself look a little more presentable and attentive. Not that very many people could see him at the moment but the demon didn’t want to entirely be overly rude. He did enjoy the theater and productions that could be performed. And ballet was really no exception to that but it made him a little bit nervous to be so far away from his library. While he was sure it was secure and no one would be getting in without him saying so he still kept a lot of important information and artifacts and it would be quite a devastating blow if any of that got into hands he didn’t want it to.

Shaking his head he refocused to the stage as the music began to rise up from the orchestra pit and light shown on the stage. A brilliantly made set was the first thing he noticed as the dancers began to take their places and perform the story for this new ballet. The Nutcracker it was called, a Holiday-themed performance with musical arrangements composed by Peter Tchaikovsky. Aziraphale had thought it would be interesting to see the premiere of the performance while he was here in St. Petersburg since he had the time. Though as his eyes focused on the stage they widened at what, or rather who, they saw on the stage taking the female lead of the performance.

The demon blinked a few times just to make sure he really was seeing what he was seeing as he leaned a little further in his seat up in the theater box closest to the stage here. Aziraphale knew that fiery head of hair that bounced in scarlet curls that framed a familiar face that sported a smile as she spun. It was Crowley on the stage full of grace and not just because she was of a divine nature. Not Crowley was taking up the lead of Clara for this performance and Aziraphale could hardly believe it as he watched her perform and work with her fellow dancers. Had this been where she has been this whole time? Part of a ballet company here in St. Petersburg? Now it wasn’t unusual through the years for the two of them to go through periods of time without communication. Aziraphale wouldn’t admit it but he did miss Crowley deep down when he didn’t hear anything from the archangel and it had been some time since he had last spoken with him.

Being in St. Petersburg as a ballet dancer was the last thing Aziraphale could have expected for Crowley. But oh was she hard to look away from.

Admittedly Aziraphale didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the performance as the evening went on. His gaze was fixated on the red-headed ballet dancer whenever she took the stage and did her part. The demon lost track of the story as he watched Crowley dance with the serpentine grace that really did make her seem almost inhuman compared to those around her. Such fluid and precise movements one could only get from a being of her nature. Needless to say, Aziraphale was enraptured from beginning to end and he swore he caught glances towards his box at times. Did she know he was here? Could she tell it was him all the way from there?

When the ballet was done and applause was held the demon immediately left his seat. A few minor miracles to make people believe he was part of the ballet company to get to the backstage. On his way, a bouquet of roses had appeared in his hands while he waited amongst a crowd of other performance goers to see the dancers and congratulate them on their performance. When he saw Crowley come down the short flight of steps to exit the main stage his breath hitched when her golden eyes caught his gaze. The angel immediately seemed to brighten up as a big smile came to her face.

Giving polite little excuses she made her way over to Aziraphale, taking his arm and leading him away from the crowd towards where the dressing rooms were to have a bit more space.

“Aziraphale!” she greeted brightly.

“What a surprise to see you here, Alba. What are you doing in St. Petersburg?”

Head cocked to the side and waves of red hair followed the direction to bounce and frame her face in a lovely manner with the way the ringlets lay. Words caught in the back of Aziraphale’s throat as he realized he hadn’t said anything yet and was staring while Crowley waited for an answer.

“Ah, I was assigned to do a little bit of temptation here. Official business and all that, nothing to really get into detail about. Oh, these are for you.”

Handing over the roses in hand Crowley’s smile softened as she took them into her hands. Fingers gently brushing over the soft petals of the bright red flowers.

“These are lovely, Aziraphale. Thank you.”

Aziraphale couldn’t stop the smile that came over his features as the demon was thanked for the flowers. Clearing his throat he spoke up again.

“That was quite a performance. I didn’t expect to find you here, you were extraordinary up there as if you barely had to try. But, if I may ask, what are you doing here let alone performing?”

Crowley gave a thoughtful look before she answered “Ah, you see, I had been assigned to do some miracle work here some months back. But I’ve never been here before and St. Petersburg is beautiful. I also made friends with the fellow who composed the music for the ballet and let’s just say I decided to stay for a while and I ended up becoming one of the lead dancers. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything about it, honestly slipped my mind.”

Aziraphale waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Doesn’t matter, Angel. You seem to be enjoying yourself and that’s all I could ask for. Besides, it was quite a pleasant surprise to see you on stage. Definitely worth the decision to come to the ballet tonight.”

It was Crowley’s turn to be a little flustered as she tried to hide her face behind the flowers a bit. The sentiment really tickled her and she was glad that Aziraphale liked seeing her perform and dance.

“Well, if you’re going to be hanging around St. Petersburg for a little while longer why don’t you and I grab dinner tomorrow night? I know some fantastic places around here, would be my treat and nice to catch up a little wouldn’t you agree?” Crowley asked curiously.

Aziraphale smiled softly and nodded his head. That sounded like a fine idea to him as he took her hand and gave the back of it a kiss causing Crowley’s cheeks to deep to a darker shade of red.

“It’s a date, Angel.”

#out of crowley (ooc)#good omens #31 days of ineffables

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swanlake1998 · 4 years ago

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Article: Lydia Abarca Mitchell, Arthur Mitchell's First Ballerina, Builds On Her Mentor's Legacy in Atlanta

Date: January 13, 2021

By: Cynthia Bond Perry For Dance Teacher

It is the urgency of going in a week or two before opening night that Lydia Abarca Mitchell loves most about coaching. But in her role as Ballethnic Dance Company's rehearsal director, she's not just getting the troupe ready for the stage. Abarca Mitchell—no relation to Arthur Mitchell—was Mitchell's first prima ballerina when he founded Dance Theatre of Harlem with Karel Shook; through her coaching, Abarca Mitchell works to pass her mentor's legacy to the next generation.

"She has the same sensibility" as Arthur Mitchell, says Ballethnic co-artistic director Nena Gilreath. "She's very direct, all about the mission and the excellence, but very caring."

Ballethnic is based in East Point, a suburban city bordering Atlanta. In a metropolitan area with a history of racism and where funding is hard-won, it is crucial for the Black-led ballet company to present polished, professional productions. "Ms. Lydia" provides the "hard last eye" before the curtain opens in front of an audience.

For more than 25 years, coaching at Ballethnic has been a lifeline back to Abarca Mitchell's days with DTH. She had a stellar career, both with the company and beyond, but left the stage at age 30 after an injury sustained performing in Dancin' on Broadway. Her husband's job transferred them to Atlanta, where she transitioned to a full-time job as a medical transcriptionist while raising a family. Now retired from her second career, Abarca Mitchell continues to forward Arthur Mitchell's legacy, not only through coaching but also by building community among DTH alumni and writing her memoirs—a fairy-tale story of a child who came from the Harlem public-housing projects and became a trailblazing Black ballerina.

Abarca Mitchell grew up during the 1950s and '60s, the oldest of seven in a tight-knit family. She always danced, taking cues from Hollywood figures until a fourth-grade teacher saw her talent and encouraged her to seek formal training. The family couldn't afford ballet lessons, but Abarca Mitchell earned a scholarship to attend The Juilliard School's Saturday youth program, and later the Harkness Ballet's professional training program. But for all of those ballet classes, Abarca Mitchell never had the opportunity to see or perform in a ballet production. She didn't understand the purpose behind ballet's tedious class exercises.

When the fast-growing Harkness Ballet moved its scholarship students to the June Taylor Studio on Broadway, Abarca Mitchell remembers hearing live drumming, clapping and laughter coming from the studio across the hall. It was a jazz class taught by Jaime Rogers, who'd played Loco in the West Side Story movie. Abarca Mitchell started sneaking into Rogers' classes.

When Harkness informed her that her scholarship was exclusively for ballet, Abarca Mitchell left the program. She saw no future for herself in the white-dominated ballet world, and focused on academics during her last two years of high school.

At 17, Abarca Mitchell met Arthur Mitchell. He had made history as the first Black principal dancer with New York City Ballet, which he had joined in 1955, and had just begun to shape what would become Dance Theatre of Harlem when he hired Abarca Mitchell in 1968. Within a month, she was back on pointe. Within two months, she was performing in Arthur Mitchell's Tones. "I didn't even know what ballet was until I was onstage," Abarca Mitchell says. "All of a sudden, it was my heart and soul."

Arthur Mitchell made sure his dancers saw NYCB perform, and subsequently brought Balanchine's Agon, Concerto Barocco and other NYCB works into the DTH repertoire. "Physically and emotionally, I felt the connection of jazz in Balanchine's choreography," Abarca Mitchell says. "His neoclassical style was just funky to me. I could totally relate."

For the first time, Abarca Mitchell danced with people who looked like her and shared the same aspirations, she says, with a leader who "saw us through his eyes of love and achievement."

In Abarca Mitchell's 30s, after a performing career that took her from DTH to the film version of The Wiz to Bob Fosse's Dancin' and beyond, her husband's job took their family to Atlanta. She soon connected with Gilreath and Waverly Lucas. The couple, also DTH alumni, were influenced by Arthur Mitchell's model when they founded Ballethnic, seeking to create access for dancers of all backgrounds to develop as classical dancers and perform a repertoire that represents the company's culturally diverse home city. Over time, Abarca Mitchell became a trusted advisor.

Abarca Mitchell goes in at least twice a year to coach Ballethnic's productions—such as Urban Nutcracker, set in Atlanta's historically Black Sweet Auburn neighborhood, and The Leopard Tale, which features the company's signature blend of classical pointe work with polyrhythmic dance forms of the African diaspora. These final rehearsals give Abarca Mitchell a way to fast-track the transfer of her mentor's values.

She recalls that Arthur Mitchell taught his dancers to present themselves at their finest—to enter a room with their heads held high and shoulders back—and to dress, speak and walk with dignity and self-respect. He reminded them that they were pioneers and ambassadors for Blacks in ballet. As the company gained international stature—Abarca Mitchell was the first Black female ballerina to appear on the cover of Dance Magazine, in 1975—he insisted the dancers remain humble and in service to the greater mission. But he was also a taskmaster. "No nonsense, no excuses," Abarca Mitchell says. "There was no slack. If he was rehearsing something that you're not in, you'd better be on the side learning it."

"He didn't throw compliments around at all. You had to really kill yourself to get a smile from him." After a run-through, she says, "you didn't want to be singled out."

Abarca Mitchell takes a slightly different approach, though she doesn't compromise on the values her mentor instilled. When coaching large casts of all ages and different levels for Ballethnic, she has found ways to inspire people without tearing them down. She calls it a "tough love" approach.

"I've got to make them want to do it. I don't want to beat them into doing it," Abarca Mitchell says. "I tell them, 'You're here because you want to be, and because you auditioned and were accepted. Now, show me why I should keep you here.'"

"I tell them, 'I'm here to make sure you'll look good—you know: 'That looks fake. Let's make it look real. Think about what you're doing, so that it's not just a gesture.'"

Arthur Mitchell instilled this level of emotional honesty in his dancers, and it was key to the company's quick success. "We were bringing a thought forward," says Abarca Mitchell. "We were bringing a feeling forward, so that the audience could connect with us."

In addition to her position as rehearsal director for Ballethnic, Abarca Mitchell is today part of 152nd Street Black Ballet Legacy, a group of DTH alumni who seek to give voice to people responsible for the company's success in its early years. "It's incredible," she says, "how many people took something from DTH and applied it to their lives."

As Ballethnic prepares to co-host the International Association of Blacks in Dance Conference and Festival in January 2022, Abarca Mitchell hopes to help strengthen the network of dance companies associated with Ballethnic, such as Memphis' Collage Dance Collective. "The dream is for all of us to collaborate with each other," she says, "so that it becomes more normal to see a Black ballerina, so it's not just a token appearance."

Today's young dancers face different challenges from what Abarca Mitchell faced. She finds that they're more easily distracted, and sometimes act entitled, because they don't know or appreciate how hard earlier Black ballerinas like herself worked to clear a path for them. But what she's passing on will benefit them, whether they choose to pursue dance careers or become doctors, lawyers, professors or something else entirely. "The principles are the same," she says. "Work for what you want, and you will achieve it."

#lydia abarca #ballet #ballerina #article #pointe magazine #pointemagazineofficial

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