#dancer au

[swift11strix]

Ballet Dancer Crowley, anyone?

It’s been a hot minute, but I’m back😀. Also, if y’all want, you should check out my Bluesky account @shelba-larsen.bsky.social cause I am also posting my artwork there.

[sixlane]

@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging | part 2

Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3

Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently. 

He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect. 

James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school. 

He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close. 

As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top? 

James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old. 

“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”

A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor. 

Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall. 

He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him. 

“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans. 

“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes. 

Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio. 

The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers. 

“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand. 

He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.

“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks. 

James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”

The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time. 

He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.

James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.

“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”

James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.

Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.

Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.

James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.

He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.

“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.

James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.

Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”

James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.

Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”

James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.

“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.

James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.

“Words, James.”

“You’re in charge,” James breathes.

“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.

“Whatever you want.”

“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”

James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.

“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.

When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly. 

Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.

“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”

James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.

Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine. 

Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek. 

“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”

And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.

Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.

“Ready?” He asks.

James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.

“Always so tight for me baby.”

“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.

Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess. 

He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already. 

For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.

“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.

Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.

James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.

“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”

James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed. 

Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.

“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.

James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.

Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.

He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.

Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”

James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.

Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.

[paige1722]

Pairing: Phantom!Simon Riley x reader

Warnings: gross behavior from a man, almost sexual assault?violence, stalking

I was listening to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and thought of this.

900ish words

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

The Ghost has always been there, watching. Ever since you joined this Opera House as a dancer two years ago. Even though you have never actually spoken to him or seen him up close, the hair on the back of your neck raised with the feeling of someone watching you has been a constant presence in your life, his looming shadow that is always hanging over you no matter where you go, his figure that never seems to leave the corner of your eye. 

When you think about the masked man or Ghost, as he is fearfully referred to as, you can’t bring yourself to be scared of him or feel any hostility towards him as you once were when you first noticed him watching you. Now, you even begin to refer to him as your guardian angel, making you feel safe and protected, knowing that he is always there looking out for you. It all started when he would leave you small red roses with a black ribbon tied around the stem and a small wax skull in the center of your room after particularly rough days, sometimes even leaving food with it when you accidentally end up missing dinner because of dance practice taking longer. 

Some of the other dancers are scared of you, now thinking that you are in cohorts with the supposed Ghost and will incur his wrath if they are seen talking to you. It doesn’t bother you that they all leave you alone now because they were never really the best company to keep around anyways, always getting into trouble trying to sabotage one another for the leading roles in performances besides, you have found friendship with two of the stagehands.

Today, something was different; there had been a strange gut feeling that something bad was going to happen today ever since you woke up, causing you to be more on edge. As you stand in the practice room alone, trying to perfect the newest choreography, the door slams open, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn around to see the newest stagehand smiling creepily at you. You hear your friends talk about him, and they have nothing good to say about him. The door clicks into place behind him, breaking you out of your thoughts as he walks to where you stand in front of the mirror. 

Taking a step back as he approaches fearfully, you ask, “What are you doing?” 

He lets out a deep chuckle, eyeing you up and down, “ I just wanted to introduce myself to you; I have seen you around and thought that we should get to know each other better.” He reaches his hand up, resting his hand around your neck and rubbing his thumb against the side of your neck. 

You let out a panicked sound, ripping the man's hand away from around your neck and stepping away from him, “What are you doing!?”  you shout as you make your way towards the door, but not putting your back towards him in fear for what might happen if you do. 

He lunged forward harshly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him, trapping you in his grasp. “Relax, you might end up liking it. You never know.” he sneered before. His heavy breathing fanning over your face, making you recoil in disgust, trying to free yourself from his arms. You begin screaming at the top of your lungs for help, hoping that someone will hear you and come to your rescue. 

 Loud bangs erupted from behind the mirror, and the sound of glass shattering echoed in the room. The man holding you throws you to the side, causing you to lose your balance, falling to the floor and smacking your head against the ground. At the harsh impact, black dots begin to swarm your vision; the last thing you hear as you succumb to the darkness is the thudding of heavy hits like someone was fighting. 

From the darkness, your Ghost had emerged when he heard your desperate screams for help. He had left you alone in the practice room for no longer than five minutes so that he would be able to leave a rose in your room like always, but this time, as he approached the practice room, instead of hearing you dancing around the room, he heard the sounds of your cries for help. Sending fear and anger throughout his body, without even thinking, Ghost threw himself into the two-way mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. At the sight of him emerging from behind the mirror, the man who held you captive threw your body to the ground as Ghost grabbed the man, unleashing punch after punch. The pathetic man tried fighting back, but it was no use; he didn’t stand a chance against the Ghost. 

After a couple of heavy hits, the man lays limp at Ghost's feet; whether he is dead or alive does not matter to him at all. The only thing on his mind was you. He walks over to you, carefully lifting your unconscious body into his arms, checking for injuries, and finding nothing too serious. He stands, cradling you to his chest, walking back to the gaping hole in the mirror. 

Reaching his liar hidden deep beneath the Opera House, Ghost gently places you down on his bed, whispering to your unconscious form, “Don’t worry, no one will ever hurt you again.” 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Price, the owner of the Opera House, lets out a deep sigh at the letter from Ghost in his hands. He lits up a cigar, letting out a puff of smoke before standing and beginning to make his way to the practice dance room, muttering curses under his breath at another mess he has to clean up.

[killugon-truther]

desperately need a hxh modern school fic where killua is a dancer bc it just makes sense to me.

he’s so graceful, elegant, & lithe, and there have been multiple moments in it where he’ll do some kind of small but very graceful and pretty action that will make my brain say, “yeah, he’s a dancer” lmao.

like, for example, the way he so gracefully snapped that mosquito’s chimera ant’s neck & then gracefully stepped off w/o even making a sound… definitely dancer behavior.

i've never seen a neck-snap look so beautiful, honestly lmao.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 2

Hey, guys! This story is going to be a lot of fun, so buckle in we are in for a ride.

Just a little thing about this chapter that will only make sense in context. But Eddie did NOT start stripping until the previous owner retired. I tried to make that clear, but I'm not sure I did. Again, Eddie danced burlesque but did not strip until he took over as owner of the night club. Got it? Thank you!

Part 1

~

They didn’t have time to build up the Steve turning from the angel Samael to the demon Satan not with him having only three days to learn the dance, so his first appearance on stage was that as the envious Satan.

Steve was wearing a red corset and boy shorts with matching high-heeled pumps and black fishnet stockings.

He started the set that would be his one hour in the spotlight leaning over a stool and then as the spotlight hit his head snapped up, glaring at the audience.

The way his body slunk and shimmied across the stage so different to the bruising stomp of Asmodeus. If Asmodeus was the harsh envy of wanting whatever one else had because he thought he deserved it, then Satan was soft simpering envy of a man who had been denied everything and still wanted, still yearned.

By the time Steve had finished his set that first night, even though he didn’t remove a single article of clothing, the money that was thrown at him was as much as Asmodeus in his heyday. On his first night.

The other dancers had been gathering the thrown money all night and Steve picked up the rest from his finale. They brought it all to Eddie to be counted. Same with the tip jar at the bar. The money for the dancers was a much bigger pile than the one at the bar, but the tip jar wasn’t slouching either.

Eddie carefully doled out the bartenders and waiters tips first. Robin’s eyes going wide as she held few hundred dollars in her hands.

“I didn’t think Sundays would be very popular,” she breathed, carefully dividing it and putting it in separate places so if her purse got stolen she didn’t lose all of it.

Eddie cackled as he counted out the money for the backup dancers first. They got the same amount every night as did the other Sins on their non-starring days while the club and the main dancer got a cut, except Saturday nights when Eddie danced then the dancer’s cut would be divided six ways among the other Sins.

“I think it was people coming in and expecting the new dancer to fall on his face,” Eddie said, handing out the money to his other dancers. “And then were blown away when Stevie here simpered and slunk his way into their hearts and more importantly their pocket books.”

He took his cut and then handed the rest to Steve.

“So it might not be this big next week?” Steve asked, chewing on his lip.

Eddie laughed. “Oh, honey, you have nothing to worry about,” he said, standing up to put an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Give them a chance to watch you dance all this week and especially with the fallen angel dance you and Lilith will do on Saturday. Once they’ve seen that, there’ll be a line outside of the club just to see you.”

“I’m with Eddie on this one,” one of the backup dancers said. She was spunky black girl called Choronzon. Well, her real name was Cheryl but you get the idea. “Asmodeus was a boring, stereotypical stripper. Pole and all. But you? Man you’re going to make everyone else envious, okay?”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. Robin bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Hell,” Gareth said with a giggle at his own stupid pun, “most of us spent that hour of you with the backup dancers just watching you. Something I assure you doesn’t usually happen, not even when we first started.”

“I can’t wait to start dancing with you,” Chrissy said earnestly. “I’ve even asked that you get the same days off as me so it’s expected we dance together.”

“What days are those?” Steve asked sharing a glance with Robin.

Eddie winced. “Yeah, I know you both wanted the same days off, but I could only manage one of the two, sorry. It’s just with the other waiters’ schedules I just couldn’t make it work. You’ll both have Tuesdays off, but Steve will have Fridays off, and Robin with have Thursdays.”

They shrugged. It was better than nothing. Hell, they were even back to back. They could make that work.

Jeff laughed, “He wants Steve to have Fridays off because he’s afraid I’ll be outshined on my own day.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up at he looked at Eddie in shock. “You really can’t tell me you actually think I’d out lust Lust, do you?”

Eddie scratched his cheek and looked up sheepishly. “Well, not precisely, not really. But you can’t deny you have a sex appeal that can’t be matched or compared. And that’s what we don’t want. People comparing you. Because even so-called progressives still find white people more aesthetically pleasing and the more we can keep people from making that direct comparison the better.”

Steve half shrugged. “I have no problem with that, but I guess that means my dreams of dancing with him have been dashed.”

“Sorry, man,” Jeff said dramatically, “I’m a solo act. I don’t do partners. I inspire lust, I don’t fall victim to it.”

He pretended to faint in Jeff’s arms and he dipped him dramatically. They straightened up with giggles. Eddie was starting to think he might have to swap sins with Steve if his stomach churned every time Steve flirted with someone else.

Which was ridiculous. He didn’t date his dancers and he wasn’t about to start now just because his head was turned by such a pretty face. Besides, it seemed that Steve and Robin were job rovers and they no doubt would get sick of this place and move on to the next one.

“All right,” he said cracking his knuckles as he sat back down at his desk. “The cleaners will be here in a half hour, so if you don’t want to help them, I’d clear out.”

Everyone made a scramble for the doors, all except Steve. He lingered at the door after everyone had left and when Eddie spotted him, he cocked his head to the side.

“Is there something you needed, Steve?”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip and then surged forward. “It is okay that I’m doing the whole angel thing, right? I wasn’t trying to change the theme of your club. I just picked the song to stand out. I figured you had every variation of every song about devils, demons, and hell,” he rambled.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie said, holding up his hand, “take a deep breath there before you pass out on me.”

Steve took in a large breath and just stared at him wide eyed.

“Sit down a minute,” he continued and waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk.

Steve wavered a moment before doing as he was told.

“I’ve been managing this club for longer than I’ve owned it,” he began.

Steve blinked at him a moment in shock. “What? It wasn’t originally yours?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nope. Back when I first started here as a dancer, it was called the Kit Cat Titty Club.”

“That’s a horrible name!” Steve said, rearing his head back in disgust.

“That it was,” he agreed. “The owner started it as a proper burlesque club. A throw back to the speakeasies of the 1920s. You had waitresses in bunny suits, cigarette girls, a live jazz band in the corner playing the tunes the dancer would strip to.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, and nodded appreciatively. “Sounds like a fun way to spend your Saturday night.”

Eddie smiled at him. “Yeah it does. Too bad it got hit with the whole steampunk era. No one wanted decadence and jazz music. They wanted Victorian era saloons and public houses. Gas lit halls and lots and lots of ruffles.”

Steve winced in sympathy. He had a couple of friends who had gotten into the phase a few years back. Too many ruffles and gears and too many gears getting caught in said ruffles.

“So what happened?”

“I told him the best way to fight the wave wasn’t join to in,” Eddie said, “but to create something new and it became the Hellfire Exotic Club. Then when he retired a couple years back, he gave it to me. Said it was mine and had been for years anyway, this was only making it official. God, I miss that bastard some days.”

“Yeah, where did he retire to?” Steve asked.

“Back to Bumfuck Middle of Nowhere Indiana,” Eddie huffed. “Or better known as Hawkins.”

Steve cackled. “I’m from there and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to go back.”

“My uncle, Wayne always was more stubborn than he was smart,” Eddie said shaking his head fondly.

“You stripped for your uncle?” Steve asked, his eyes wide.

“No, no,” Eddie said trying to hold in his laughter. “Of course not! Not everyone strips here. Brian, our Greed only gets as far as his pants. Chrissy will leave her g-string on. Like if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have to strip. It’s about sensuality and titillation than bump and grind style stripping. I think that’s why Billy never really fit in here. Because if Billy was anything he was your typical stripper. I know we throw that around a lot but he was it. Here.” He dug around in his desk for a moment and pulled out a picture.

He handed it to Steve. “This is our first night as the Seven Deadly Sins. Everyone else you know, so Billy won’t be hard to pick out.”

Blond, muscled, tanned, and oiled. Typical male stripper. Nothing special. Nothing new.

“Was he someone your uncle hired?” Steve guessed handing the picture back.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “because he looked good in spats and suspenders. But he never really fit in and maybe that’s why it blew up the way it did. Anyway the point is dancing for my uncle was hell of a lot better than working with my dad, so...” He wagged his eyebrows once.

“What did your dad do?” Steve asked.

“Stole cars.”

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckled. “It’s fine. He’s in jail now in Texas. Third strike, will be in there until I’m old and grey.”

“Shredding on your guitar,” Steve said softly, “while the next generation of Sins dance to your music.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “I like the sound of that.” He cleared his throat. “Shit, we got way off topic there. The point of my story is that this place has changed before and change if done right it’s a good thing. Besides what makes demons so interesting is that they used to be angels. People love a hero, but what they love even more than a hero is to see that hero fall. We’ve just never tapped into that potential yet,” he finished with a shrug. “So don’t you be worrying that pretty head of yours, okay? I’m good at this.”

Steve smiled and stood back up. “That does help. Thanks.” He scratched his cheek and then hummed. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I guess so,” Eddie replied softly. “Good night, Steve.”

“Night, Eddie.”

Once Steve was had left, closing the door behind him, he buried his head in hands. This was going to be hell. He could feel it.

There was just something...sparkling about Steve. Something bright and beautiful. And Eddie couldn’t believe his luck. He doesn’t know why Robin left work at the rec center where Steve taught pole dancing as exercise, or even what she did there, but he could tell they were both really worried about money right now.

But whatever the reason for their leaving, he doubly grateful they landed in his lap. She was a good waitress and Steve was a phenomenal dancer.

But unlike every other dancer who had walked through those doors and into his life, Steve also walked into his heart too. And Chrissy crushing on Robin wasn’t good, this was bad. He couldn’t be seen to have favorites.

So he would have to keep his distance.

Famous last words, he knew. Fate liked throwing curve balls at Eddie, and he really should have been more careful about making promising he couldn’t keep.

~

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: ONE SLOT REMAINING

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff

[starker-sorbet]

Dance partners Peter and Tony leaning in for a kiss as their emotions overtake them while dancing in a competition

@starkerfestivals Summer Bingo: Dancer au card below

[skepticdoe]

okay hey gang 😛

so this is my headcanons for what the South Park characters specialise in terms of dancing

this may be a bit messy because the only dancing I know is just dance from when I was like 9 🙏

also thanks to @voltadream for feeding into my delusional headcanons and for providing me with samba dancer Craig!!

Here we go!

Kyle:

Headcanoning Kyle is always a wee bit difficult BUT I persevered and came up with the idea that he would be in ballroom. Not like your elegant super slow dancing but more foxtrot, upbeat and complex footwork. He would aim for perfectionism and every relationship he gets into with his co-dancer always ends with a breakup which leads him to keep on having to change partners. He eventually realises his feelings for Stan and he gets a permanent partner: Bebe. Bebe herself would be in a secret situation ship with Wendy lmao

Stan:

I personally cannot see him as a dancer😭 he gives off really strong personal trainer vibes who’d help the others train their mobility and flexibility. He would help craft an appropriate nutrition plan and would be against extreme dieting because it does more harm than good.

It’s either a personal trainer or a physical therapist for Stan. He would just be in charge of making sure everyone’s taking care of their bodies and helping them adapt physically to their performances.

Kenny:

Kenny is UNDOUBTEDLY a hip hop dancing. Breakdancing is his favourite (because of course it is) and he would literally FLY around the dance floor. He’d be into the political graffiti movement. Honestly a chill guy. He would stress poor Stan out SO much by attempting a move that Stan himself said he should train more for instead of attempting lmaoo.

Cartman:

I’m always tempted to put Cartman in the “tyrant manager who everyone hates but he’s good at his job” BUT I’ll try to be different and put him in the swing dancer category. By this I mean he’ll be as over the top as possible and he would wear his suit with suspenders and try to give off seduction vibes with smouldering glances and by licking his lips while dancing thinking it’s going to get him all the women 💔 literally no one likes him but he’s mysteriously getting a lot of funding and somehow made a name for himself. He’s also guilt tripped and coerced Heidi to be his dance partner (free Heidi 2025 ‼️🙏).

Butters:

He is LITERALLY the most theatre performer coded character ever! He would be at the front of every dance member (and would probably dabble in a bit of singing for musicals). He would also be REALLY good at line dancing.

Craig:

solo samba dancer OR a samba dancer with Red as his partner and all the fans keep shipping them and it gets to a point where a public statement has to be made saying they’re cousins 😭

Tweek:

He would be in production. Whether it’s event staff or just the general competition day manager who walks around yelling into his walkie talkie and making sure everything’s up to code before competitions. He’s also the one everyone begs for favours like a bigger lounge or for insider production information about other teams lmao

Wendy:

Our fav chair organiser who handles finances and CRASHES OUT whenever Cartman puts in an order for over the top and probably dangerous props and equipment. She’s the one that handles all the legal stuff and the aftermath after one of her dancers makes a very questionable comments or decisions during interviews. In a secret situationship with Bebe

THATS A WRAP!! thanks for reading this far and I would LOVE to hear any opinions and suggestions!!

[klayr-de-gall]

Day 22 - Dancer

Only eyes for you

-

As always, all entries for this week (Day 27 to Day 20) can be found on my Patreon!

[Social Media and Patreon]

Masterlis

[joooooniecore]

Fire on fire - teaser

jiminxfem!reader, rivals to lovers, contemporary dance au, dance partners, forced proximity, jimin is a flirt, reader is grumpy, non-idol au

PLOT: When the teacher assigns you and your ultimate rival Jimin to showcase a contemporary dance, your entire world turns upside down. Will you be able to do it without any hindrance? Or will it question your entire history of hatred against him?

WARNINGS: no warnings, fluff and kissing

___________

You were in the backstage waiting for your turn. Jimin was still not here. Your heart started beating fast. You knew this was going to happen but still your stubborn heart held hope. You have no idea why. He was so gentle when he took care of your sister. He never once mocked you for cutting practice short whenever there was a family emergency. You somehow started to believe him and now it was all shattered.

Jimin was not going to come. You were sure. He wasn’t yours, and he will never be.

Ten minutes to your program, you nervously scratched the wooden cabinet of the dressing room with your nails as you felt a hand rest on your shoulder.

“You are going to ruin your nails.”, came the soft breezy voice which you would recognize anywhere. Much to your despair.

You whipped your head around to find Jimin standing there with a soft smile. He was breathing heavily. He was wearing a white buttoned shirt which was half open. A white pair of trousers and very subtle glitter makeup. He was looking gorgeous. Jimin has always been pleasant to look at and right now he was truly looking like a work of art.

“I- you- why did you come?”, you couldn’t help but ask even though you knew that was a stupid question.

“Why wouldn’t I?”, he said as he tilted his head in confusion.

..................to be continued

POSTING THIS TUESDAY (11TH FEBRUARY) SHARP AT 7:00 PM IST

COMMENT DOWN IF YOU WANT TO BE PART OF A TAGLIST

[maukree]

The past doesn’t leave much room for sentimentality, but if it did, Bucky would’ve been better off raising a middle finger to Hydra. They didn’t just piece him back together after they found him—no. They scooped him out of the discarded trash that was post-army cannon fodder, carved out the good bits, and filled the rest with something Bucky struggled to recognize in the mirror for far too long. Gutted him and remade him in their image, metal arm and all. And now, sure, he’s ‘free’ to make his own choices, but— He still kills.

There’s something about the way he moves that pulls on Bucky, no matter how much he tries to shrug it off. Not graceful—effortless; makes everyone else look clumsy, Bucky probably included.

[hitman!Bucky and dancer!Peter AU for @marveltrumpshate 2024] Completed Wordcount: 55k Rating: Explicit

Read here.

[diazsdimples]

🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰

15 Ballet AU sentences for you, Anon!

“I’m just trying to establish what I have to work with here. And how far I can push him before he ends up as one of Hen’s regulars.” Buck laughs nervously, his eyes flicking to Hen who gives him a toothy grin, not Bruce the shark from Finding Nemo. Buck was always terrified of Bruce. “Do you always try to hurt your dancers?” “Only emotionally,” Tommy replies, deadpan, but he laughs as he dodges a swat from Chimney. “Watch yourself, Kinard, I could make your life very difficult,” Chimney threatens with a pointed finger in Tommy’s direction. “I’m choreographing your fight with the Nutcracker here, how would you feel about having to do flips over him? We know how much you love those.” “You’d better not be trying to break my dancers, Chim,” a deep voice booms, and Buck turns to see a very distinguished, older looking man walking towards them. His words sounded like a warning, but his face is kind, a gentle smile playing over his face as he surveys the group in front of him. He looks at them in a way that’s not dissimilar to how a father looks at his children while they playfight – a little exasperated but altogether too fond to really be mad. “Not break them, Bobby. Just wear them out a little,” Chimney explains. He has the good grace to look a little sheepish. “Oh, you certainly do that,” Eddie says with a grin, ignoring Chimney’s indignant splutters. “Buck, this is Bobby Nash, our director.”

Gonna tag @hippolotamus and @monsterrae1 cause you guys also asked for this and also @neverevan @spotsandsocks and @slightlyobsessedwitheverything bc you guys have shown interest like, once and I imprinted on it like a baby duckling (pls lmk if you don't want to be tagged for this wip)

[emmaestrella]

returning to my roots (writing percabeth fanfiction) because i saw one (1) piece of fanart for ballerina percabeth au and there’s not that many on ao3 so now i’m writing a dance au (to add to my collection of wips) (i promise i’m trying to work on them I’m ridiculously busy and chronically exhausted and never have free time)

[sixlane]

i know heaven’s a thing (i go there when you touch me)

E | 4k | jegulus

Regulus huffs a laugh. “Oh so you do listen when I speak. Could’ve fooled me.” He has no idea that James has been hanging off his every word since the first time they met. Not that James can let him know. This game is how he keeps things fun. Fucking the artistic director of the dance company you’re in becomes much more complicated when things like that are spoken out loud. Or, Regulus gives James a chance to make up for his bad behavior.

happy birthday @ecstarry <333

[skyf0ckz]

Some info for this ver of Dancer AU:

Johnny, Dutch and Bobby are all ballet dancer in Miyagi’s dance company

Jimmy is the head costume designer, Tommy *used* to dance with them at their old company, but quit(I decided he’s in nursing school bc I love him and think he would)

Daniel is one of the new musicians brought in for their newest performance, and if he isn’t practicing he’s helping Miyagi with choreography

Some other dancers that will be important later on;

Kumiko, Chozen, Susan and Darryl Vidal

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Lavender & Velvet

You work as a dancer for private events catering exclusively to Pro Heroes. One day, your boss approaches you with a mysterious assignment.

Read on AO3 here

SMUT AHEAD MDNI 18+ ONLY !!!

Being a dancer was always glamorized, and in your case, it was definitely glamorous.

You were a dancer for a company specializing in private events. If the event required some sort of special invitation, chances are you were probably going to be there dancing. However, given that you lived in a society where those with Quirks ruled, most of the events you attended were often for Pro Heroes. You danced for charity balls, birthday parties, and house parties. You had rubbed elbows with every Hero who graced newspapers, and had gotten to know many of them through this.

However, being a dancer had led to many trysts. Heroes had needs, just like other people, and since you were basically hired to be eye candy, you had slept with many Pro Heroes. Your fellow dancers had joked that you were slowly climbing up the top ten, having slept with Gang Orca (a generous man in bed and very powerful), Crust (a timid man, but polite), and having various trysts with Edgeshot (there was a reason you kept going back to him). Before All Might had retired, you had been working your way up to him, but you had never gotten the vibe from him that he was the type to fool around.

You loved your job, and you never questioned the assignments that your boss gave you. However, you were left feeling curious after your most recent encounter with him.

Your boss, Arima, approached you one day while you were stretching in the practice room. Normally he was always in a good mood, greeting you with his trademark polite smile before explaining your next assignment. When he walked in he seemed nervous, face covered in a light sheen of sweat and eyes shifting nervously around. Upon seeing you he rushed over, bowing as he greeted you.

“I hope your day's going well. Listen, I have a very important assignment for you that just came in. I can’t give you details, but I need your performance to be perfect.”

“Uh, okay, perfect in what way?”

“Just . . . I need one hundred percent from you, okay? I also need you to be as sexy as you can be.”

You raised a brow at that. “Uh huh, okay.”

Arima bowed again, squeaking out a thank you before scampering off. You stood there, trying to process the weird interaction you had just had before sighing. Well, I guess I need to come up with a sexy choreography.

Arima gave you two weeks to put your routine together. The day of the performance he came to see you again. He seemed just as nervous as the first time, bowing again before nervously tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“You will be picked up right at six. A limo will be sent.”

“A limo? Arima, who exactly am I performing for?”

He hesitated, sweat beading on his forehead.

“You will get details later. Just . . . please be ready on time.”

“You know I will be,” you frowned. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Fine!” he yelled. “I have to go!”

You spent the rest of the day wondering what exactly it was about this performance that had Arima so nervous. You took your time getting ready, glad you had gotten basically your entire body waxed the day before so you could focus on your makeup and hair. Just as Arima had said, a limo arrived at your dance company right at six. The driver greeted you with a sharp nod, opening the door for you to slide in. A bottle of champagne was waiting for you in a chilled bucket, and you helped yourself to a glass.

The limo drove you to what appeared to be a boarded up place, but when you stepped out you realized it was a restaurant. There were no signs or logos plastered to suggest it was, and you figured it was one of those exclusive ones.

Another man met you at the door, nodding to the driver as a silent thanks before opening the door and letting you in. The atmosphere was quiet, a pianist playing jazz music softly in the background as men conversed in hushed tones. A few of them turned to look at you, eyeing you before resuming their previous conversations. You swallowed nervously, falling into step behind your guide as he led you towards the back.

"I assume your boss didn’t tell you anything?” he inquired.

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you.

“Y-yes, he has been very . . . silent about the whole thing.”

“Good.”

You were led into a dim hallway. He slowed down, turning his head to look back at you.

“There’s only one rule. Do not touch the young boss. You will be killed if you do.”

You felt your heart sink. The last part of your routine had you running your hands along him, ending with a “happy ending”. Arima had stopped by to check out your routine, and he had been beyond pleased. Apparently, he had been let out of the loop regarding this stipulation.

“Um, okay. Noted.”

He stopped in front of a door, stepping aside so you could pass by him.

“Good luck. You were personally requested.”

Before you could respond, he opened the door. He gestured for you to go in. Sucking in a breath, you stepped through the door. The room was empty, save for a large chair across the room. Sitting in the chair was a young man, staring intensely at you. He had short, brown hair, golden eyes gleaming above a plague mask. He was resting his cheek on his fist, elbow pressed against the arm of the chair. You couldn’t help but notice he was dressed sharp, in a tight black dress shirt tucked neatly into a matching pair of pants. He cocked his head to the side upon noticing you staring.

“Hi.”

He didn’t respond to your greeting. Clearing your throat, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone and speaker. He didn’t say anything as you set up, connecting your phone and selecting the song. You paused it, placing the speaker down and sucking in a deep breath to get yourself into the element. You exhaled, letting the breath out of your mouth before slowly opening your eyes.

The “young boss” hadn’t moved, still frozen in place as he stared at you. You got into position, reaching into your coat pocket to push play from a remote. The opening notes played, and you let your gaze fall intensely on him.

Pull up to the city

Tell me I’m your lily

I’ll be in that dress you like

You had worn a tan trench coat buttoned up. Underneath, you wore a lavender lingerie set, complete with garters to match the title of the song. You seductively shrugged out of it, beginning your routine as you slowly body rolled.

Body in vanilla

Yeah I know it thrills ya

I know what is on your mind

As you danced, you slowly made your way over to him. You kept your eyes on him, doing a pirouette to get closer.

Take me to a place where

We can see the stars here

Nothing but the radio on

You let your hands run along your body to emphasize the last lyric.

I’ll take you anywhere you say

I’ll take you to my hideaway

Baby just give the word

I wanna give you the world

You eased into the chorus, hitting the movements smoothly and transitioning into the next. As the song went on, you felt slightly defeated at the fact that the guy hadn’t responded. He had the same bored expression, blinking slowly as he watched you move. You tried not to let him get to you, and you amped up the sexy factor as the song progressed.

However, you had a dilemma. The last bridge had a sequence where you sank to the floor and crawled to him, letting your hands run along his thighs and unbuckling his pants to give him a . . . happy ending. When you had shown Arima, he had been beyond delighted and assured you that was what had been requested. But now, after being told you couldn’t touch the client, you were unsure what to do.

The bridge began, and you sank to the floor as you had planned. However, instead of crawling towards him, you sank back onto your feet, letting your hands run down your body. You hesitated, wondering if your idea would work, before deciding to just move forward. One hand cupped your breast, squeezing it lightly as the other trailed down your middle, lingering at the waistband. During the outro, you let your finger slide into your panties, teasing your entrance as you glanced at the “young boss” with half-lidded eyes.

The song ended, and you sat frozen in your spot. The man finally moved, pushing off his elbow to sit up straight. He leaned forward, raising a single eyebrow before speaking.

“Did you intend on touching me towards the end?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Embarrassed, you gave a slow nod.

“Y-yes, sir.”

He hummed, the sound low in the back of his throat. He studied you for a moment before lifting a hand.

“Well? Are you going to touch me, then?”

“S-sir?”

He crossed his arms, leaning back into the chair.

“I assume my men told you not to touch me?”

You gave a slow nod.

“Well, I’ve had a change of heart. Do the routine the way you intended.”

You blinked, unsure if you had heard him right. When you didn’t move, he let out a long sigh.

“Tell me, girl, how was the routine supposed to go?”

“I was planning on ending with a happy ending.”

“Oh?”

His golden eyes flashed.

“Yes, sir. I was planning on . . . going down on you.”

“Well, I knew there was a reason I requested you.”

You remained silent, staring at him silently in the hopes he would indulge you with more details.

“I’ve heard great things about you through the grapevine. I don’t normally associate with your . . . normal clients.”

He must have noticed the slight frown that you tried to control, as he went on.

“I apologize, where are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself. I’m Overhaul, head of the Shie Hissaikai.”

Your blood ran cold. While hooking up with some Heroes, you had heard his name thrown around. Apparently, he was considered an “underground” villain, one that was prominent in name but whose activities were difficult to track. That explained why Arima had been so nervous about the whole thing.

“Well, are you going to do the routine now? I would love to receive your happy ending.”

Nodding, you resumed your previous starting position, grabbing your coat to redress. This time, Overhaul seemed more interested. As you danced closer, you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants this time. You felt a surge of confidence, hitting the choreography perfectly and keeping sensual expressions on your face. When the final bridge came, you sank to the floor, crawling slowly towards him. He kept his eyes on you, one hard hanging off the back of his chair as he spread his legs for you. Your hands came to rest on his thighs, looking up at him with a smirk as you glided them up towards his belt. You unbuckled it, slowly unbuttoning his pants afterwards and sliding the zipper down.

His boxers were left, and your mouth was watering at the sight of his thick bulge. You slid them down, his cock springing out. Licking your lips, you left your left hand on his thigh before gently grasping his cock with your right hand. You felt a hand grab the back of your head. Looking up, you saw Overhaul reaching up to remove his mask. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his handsome face.

“Well? Go on.”

Without the mask obstructing his mouth, his voice was deeper and smoother. You took him into your mouth, your hand wrapping around what couldn’t fit. He was thick, your mouth stretching to take him in. His hand went back to your head, grabbing your hair to fist it. He guided you up his length, pushing you down. You gagged, the back of your throat taking him in.

“Such a good girl,” he purred.

You felt yourself clenching around nothing, a whine forming in your throat. The vibration of it had him hissing, his fingers tightening around your hair. You kept on, picking up the pace as you moved your mouth along his length. Suddenly, he pulled you off, forcing you to look up at him.

“This isn’t enough for me,” he panted. “Come, sit on my lap.”

You scrambled onto his lap. His hands came to grab your ass, spanking each cheek harshly. Your hands came to rest on the sides of his neck, biting your lip as you stared at him.

“Such a pretty girl. Look at you, so obedient for me.”

One hand moved your panties aside. His hand retracted, a soft rustling reaching your ears before you felt a long finger stroke your slit. You were dripping at this point, and he relished in the feeling.

“Did I make you this wet? Naughty girl.”

He used your natural lubrication to push in. You moaned, throwing your head back as he slowly moved in and out. A second finger pushed in, and you felt his thumb brushing your clit. You grinded on his lap, desperate for more friction.

“So eager. Relax, I’ll fuck you right now.”

He slapped his cock against your inner thigh. You rose up a little, letting him rub his cock against your entrance to gather some of your wetness. Both of his hands came to rest on your hips, helping guide you down as you took him. The initial stretch was painful, causing your mouth to drop open in a silent scream. You wanted to bury your face in his neck, but Overhaul stopped you.

“Come on, I know you can take my cock, baby.”

You let out a loud moan when you bottomed out, your ass pressed against his thighs. He gave you a minute to adjust before spanking you.

“Move.”

Your hands went back to the sides of his neck, biting your lip as you began to move your hips. You rose up, his cock sliding out before you sat back on it. He felt amazing stretching you out, and you managed to establish a good rhythm. His hands remained on your ass, staring up at you with slight amazement as you kept on moving your hips smoothly.

“God, you move amazing. Perks of being a dancer.”

He spanked you, causing you to moan. You moved faster, throwing your head back as you tried to chase your orgasm. You were close, so close, and you were desperate to let go around him.

“What a fucking whore. You just started riding me, and you already want to cum?”

He spanked you again.

“Did I give you permission?”

You shook your head furiously, clenching tightly around him.

“Did I?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You fought hard, clenching your eyes shut as you started desperately bouncing on him. Suddenly, Overhaul wrapped his arms around you, trapping you on his lap. He began fucking up into you, small grunts tumbling out of his lips. You tried to hold it in, but your orgasm hit you hard, and you began babbling his name nonsensically. He stopped, panting lightly.

“Foolish girl. You weren’t allowed to come.”

He pushed you off, sending you tumbling to the floor. You glanced at him with confused eyes.

“Spread your legs for me.”

You did as told, watching as he stripped his clothing off. You admired his fit physique, and when he came to hover over you, you let your fingers trace the hard lines of his back.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, and you’re going to let me breed you. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you moaned.

He didn’t give you warning before pushing back into you. You immediately wrapped your legs around him, your arms continuing to trace his muscles. He dipped his head to the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in short pants as he thrusted harshly into you. After a few thrusts he pulled back to look at you, eyes studying your features as you relished in pleasure.

“God, you look so beautiful like this. I’m sure you’ll look more beautiful when you’re stuffed full of my cum.”

You whimpered, clenching tightly around him. He picked up the pace, grunting as his movements became erratic and he looked back at your face.

“Are you ready, baby? Ready to be bred?”

Your response was your orgasm, crying out his name as he kept on until he was spilling himself inside of you. The two of you remained united, panting softly as you both came down from your high. Overhaul pulled out, causing you to whine from how sensitive you were and the loss of being stuffed full. He sat back on his knees, admiring your naked body spread out before gently offering his hand.

“Are you alright to stand?”

You nodded, taking his hand and slowly sitting up. His eyes flickered to your core before using his finger to push the fluids that were beginning to dribble out.

“Now, now, we need to make sure that stays up there.”

He handed you your lingerie and coat before walking you to the door. Right before opening it he paused, slowly turning to look at you.

“Would you like to do this again sometime?”

[sadtranstheatreguy]

I CAN'T GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD... so I'm writing a fic about them <3

Jayvik nation this is my contribution to you.