#modern dance choreographers

[saresmusings]

Martha Graham and Erick Hawkins, Bennington College, VT, Photo by Barbara Morgan, 1938

#saresmusings #martha graham #erick hawkins #bennington college #1938 #vermont #barbara morgan #modern dance #modern dance choreographers #dance photography #black and white #foryoupage #Barbara Morgan photography #blackandwhite #dancers #photographer

[annelise-eastes]

One of my favorite floor transitions 💃🏼

#dancer #dance #contemporary dance #modern dance #choreographer #choreography #floorwork

[insteading]

It's that time in the liturgical calendar where Thomas the Apostle is away when his friends are visited by the risen Christ, and says "I won't believe it's him unless I put my hand in the wound in his side."

And the risen Christ shows up again and disrobes and, gesturing to his side, asks Thomas, You wanted to feel this? Go ahead.

There are a lot of queer things that happen in the scriptures, and in my opinion this is one of them. It's important to Thomas that the risen Christ has a body, and that this body bears the marks of his suffering and transformation, and that someone can reach in and feel what this part of his experience has been.

Christianity has a strong strand of body hatred in it (thanks Paul!). And as much smack as the sermons of my childhood talked about Thomas needing to see and feel in order to believe, I'm grateful to Thomas for just putting his wild yearning to finger Christ out there. He would have done numbers on here.

#thanks to the choreographer friend whose modern dance piece jarred these thoughts loose so long ago #and thanks to the visual artist whose thomas is touching trans jesus in his top surgery scars #one needn't be christian in order to look at christianity's scriptures and say 'something queer is going on here' #and in fact it's maybe easier to make that observation if one isn't #liturgical year #the apostle thomas #original poem

[mariocki]

Vladimir: Did you ever read the Bible?

Estragon: The Bible... [He reflects.] I must have taken a look at it.

Vladimir: Do you remember the Gospels?

Estragon: I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. There's where we'll go, I used to say, there's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy.

Vladimir: You should have been a poet.

Estragon: I was. [Gesture towards his rags.] Isn't that obvious.

-

Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot (1955)

#samuel beckett #waiting for godot #modern theatre #theatre quotes #1955 #modern drama #Godot had been written in 48 and 49 in French‚ and premiered in 53 in Paris‚ where Beckett was based #an english translation didn't appear until 54‚ and Beckett took the opportunity to make small edits and some significant substitutions #there were also edits for censorship (theatrical censorship being fairly draconian in 50s Britain; even a name like Fartov was considered #too much by the Lord Chamberlain) and once Faber published their version in 56 there were yet more changes and omissions #alas I picked up a copy on my way to work (for reasons‚ my job currently entails a lot of sitting around doing not very much) and grabbed #my old Faber edition (a corrected version wouldn't be available in english until the mid 60s) so I'm working from a bastardized text #actually Beckett would continue to tinker with Godot for the rest of his life‚ so the jury's out on which if any is the 'correct' text #nevertheless I'm having a great time. it's over a decade since i read this‚ as a lowly undergrad‚ and had my socks blown asunder #Beckett's prose has lost none of its magic; a carefully choreographed dance in words between two people who can't see their own moves #it's tempting to read all manner of subtext and innuendo into Beckett's minimalist dialogue‚ but the writer himself always strongly #resisted attempts at micro analysis; in fact he bored pretty quickly of the attention this play in particular seemed to earn‚ and would #repeatedly downplay any philosophical or political interpretations of the play. that's not to say those ideas don't exist or that those #readings lack merit; a play is almost by definition a political beast‚ a play of this kind in this era in this place and time particularly #so. but if Godot is any one thing more than others‚ it's a joyous examination of the art of conversation about nothing; more than any other #playwright (excepting perhaps Pinter)‚ you get the sense that every syllable was precisely and carefully chosen by Beckett‚ every word #carefully weighed and considered before inscription. perhaps then Godot is not a play at all; perhaps it is a poem #in loose free form‚ a sprawling poem of multiple voices in discordant harmony. or maybe it isn't. what do i know #I'm just a tumblr blog

[lemony-snickers]

ahhh soft fun spring prompts ! maybe a Kakashi and Saya for dancing in the rain...or unintentional kisses...? or whatever you like---sorry, I'm bad at this

you are far too kind and spoil me by choosing my favourite lady. <3 i didn't quite go with an unintentional kiss, but... well, you'll see, i guess, but i hope you like what i came up with. thank you again <3

Saya should have brought an umbrella.

As she races through the downpour toward the studio, she mutters a string of curses so vulgar and adamant that someone she passes actually shouts at her to watch her language.

Maybe she should, but she honestly doesn't care because Kakashi is going to kill her for being late, anyway. She gazes overhead at the ominous clouds, muttering a half-hearted prayer for a bolt of lightning to strike her as she runs.

No such luck.

"You're late."

Kakashi doesn't even turn around when she pulls the door open and Saya stands there, dripping onto the carpet like a drowned ferret.

"You really want me to come in?" she asks, and he finally looks at her.

The irritation is so clear in his posture Saya doesn't need him to say anything. He does, of course, anyway. Because Kakashi Hatake must always say every cutting thought that crosses his mind.

"So you're late and wet and now we can't rehearse."

Saya's face scrunches up as she bites her lip to keep from saying something equally condescending in return. "Yes, well, I wasn't home this morning and by the time I realized it was gonna rain, it was too late to go back and fetch my boots and my umbrella."

Kakashi crosses his arms over his chest and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"If you weren't home, where were you?"

Saya straightens, levelling him with a challenging stare. "I don't recall my personal schedule being any of your business."

Kakashi snorts. "You can screw whoever you like," he says, "but now your poor decision making is impacting my ability to work."

Saya rolls her eyes. "I don't think a single missed rehearsal is going to truncate our progress," she says, "At this point we're just running around in circles anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kakashi hates when she disagrees with him. Their rehearsal time is split almost evenly between surly silence and sharp sarcastic jabs as they move together, weaving new choreography between the threads of Sakumo's original piece.

Will of Fire debuts as a duet in only six short weeks and they still don't have the final sequence figured out.

"I'm just saying, maybe taking a break isn't a bad idea. We haven't come up with anything good in two weeks. Plus," she adds, "I think i'm starting to resent you and that's not gonna help our chemistry on stage."

Kakashi growls, crossing the small studio in only a few long strides and plopping onto the small square of carpet near the door to pull his shoes back on.

"Great," Saya says, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

She turns to leave, but Kakashi's strong grip strangles the back of her shirt and she stumbles backward. "What the hell?"

"I didn't say we weren't rehearsing," Kakashi says, heaving himself to his feet by using Saya as leverage, "I'm just not willing to let you damage my expensive flooring."

Saya rolls her eyes, but follows him onto the sidewalk anyway, standing in the torrential rain as he locks the studio doors behind him.

Kakashi says nothing as he turns, and Saya hates that she follows him without question. For all that he can be a haughty asshole sometimes, she trusts his judgement. Wouldn't have left her old company for the chance to dance with him if she didn't.

When he leads her to a small secluded park, Saya resigns herself to the least comfortable rehearsal of her life. Her shoes are soaked through, the pads of her toes probably already wrinkled and prune-like inside her sodden socks.

Kakashi stops, turns, and then it's, "Five, six, seven, eight--" and they begin to move without any further preamble.

The beginning of the piece is simple. Sakumo's Will of Fire began with a lengthy adagio, slow measured movements of his limbs always in opposition--pulling him in different directions, tearing him apart.

Their updated version uses this same concept, except instead of only their limbs, Kakashi and Saya use one another to create the push and pull effect. Saya begins in a slow passe, then a promenade en seconde, with Kakashi tugging her leg as she moves, trying to knock her off balance.

He almost succeeds this time, her shoe slipping on the soggy grass, but she manages to recover, shooting him the faintest glare through the haze of rain.

That he's already wearing a smirk when she looks at him only further irritates her.

At least in the next sequence, she gets to annoy him instead, climbing up his back to twine her limbs around his torso as he struggles ineffectually to shed her weight. Since they're outside, the formality of the studio several blocks away, she whispers against his ear, "You can't get rid of me that easily," before she lowers herself to the ground beneath him, wrapping around his left leg like a child.

She wondered when he created the sequence whether he did this with his father as a kid--wrapped around Sakumo's leg and begged him not to leave.

It makes her sad when she thinks about it too much; contemplates why it was so important for Kakashi to revive his father's defunct dance company, why he's so desperate to reinvent Sakumo's final work.

So she pushes the thoughts away, focuses on the movement, the way her palms sink into the mud as she scrambles to stand, the way the rain drips uncomfortably into her ear as she arches away from Kakashi.

Is the rain in his eyes, too? Is her face a blur like his is? Does he care that she's smeared muck across his cheek and his shoulder?

When they reach the point of the dance they have yet to complete, Saya slows. She's about to open her mouth to ask if he wants to start from the top when Kakashi's hands wrap around her middle, tugging her body close.

She gasps quietly, surprised, when he nuzzles into her hair, sinks to one knee with her balanced against the other so she can use his thigh as a chair. She looks at him over her shoulder, and the longing in the gesture is not wholly manufactured for the performance.

Because when she looks at his face this close, she can see something burning in his gaze she isn't quite prepared for.

Following his lead, Saya reaches a hand out and strokes Kakashi's cheek with the back of her hand. She exaggerates the movement, to make it clear it's part of the improvisation, an addition to the choreography.

Nothing else.

She maybe lingers a moment longer than she should, though, before she stands, leaning her body away from him as she looses herself in the story they weave together.

They might not remember everything for the next run through, but it certainly feels like whatever creative block they've been fighting has loosened a little. Saya's hair sticks to her face, soaked with rain and sweat, and Kakashi clings to her desperately, mirroring her movements and then retaking the lead so she can follow him instead.

It's a tug of war to see who will be in control when they reach the end, neither of them willing to cede to the other.

Kakashi hums the final bars of the music against Saya's ear and she turns to lean into him, wraps one leg in attitude around his waist as she lifts up on her toes and presses her mouth almost to touch his.

His lips part, like they are ready to meet hers, one hand sliding over the small of her back.

And then the humming stops. The dance is over.

Saya lingers only another single heartbeat before she pulls away, straightens her clothes where they've bunched awkwardly against her skin in deference Kakashi's strong fingers.

"Do you want to run the whole thing again?" she asks, "Or just the new part?"

Kakashi doesn't answer for a moment, just stares at her through the haze of the rain. Then, he blinks furiously a few times--whether to rid his lashes of water or for some othe reason, she isn't entirely sure--and says, "Just the new part, I think."

Saya gets into position.

"Ready?" Kakashi asks. She nods. "Five, six, seven, eight--"

prompt list for those interested. <3

#kakaoc #kakaoc fanfiction #oc: saya #akamikazae #dance au #modern au #basically an au you that i have daydreamed endlessly about but will never write in full #it's got a playlist tho! two fully choreographed dances! and a terrible terrible bit of art i made! a;dslfjas;fdj #so thanks kaz for giving me an excuse to scribble this little thing <3 #anyway #lemony scribbles #april 🌧️ lem 💐

[luncheon-aspic]

Modern dance majors at my university are going to be having their finals showcase on a day that I'm actually going to be in town. Should I go?

#I'm not really up on the theory of modern dance (like I am with classical) but it's also fun to watch things you kinda don't understand #i participated in a government project bringing together traditional and modern choreographers a few years back #but specifically as a theorist of the traditional side

[vaultlucy]

some of you guys didn’t listen to coco rosie in the year of our lord 2007 and have your brain fall out of you ear and that’s okay but it shows.

#every dance girl on earth was choreographing mediocre monsterous modern dances to them but we were ALIVE

[3rdblah]

Tbh modern dance FUCKS bc you could have a teacher that choreographs a dance as if the metaphorical lyrics are literal so now you and the rest of this half of the dancers are pretending to kill the other half on stage or you could have a teacher that choreographs a highly interpretive dance with a specific story that she never tells you so when your relatives ask why the dance looks like dystopian mind control you have to tell them you don’t know either

#modern dance #violence tw #death tw #oh and you learn about that one historical dancer who died bc her costumes were fuckin DIPPED in radium #and that guy who choreographed a show in which one dancer spent the whole hour and a half running on a treadmill

[multidimensional-wavelength]

Dancer!Eddie

Send tweet

#eddie munson #stranger things #listen #i literally csnt atop thinking about modern eddie being a dance choreographer

[saresmusings]

James Dean attending dance classes given by Katherine Dunham in New York City, 1955

Photo: Dennis Stock via the Howard Greenberg Gallery

#saresmusings #james dean #katherine dunham #1955 #dennis stock #ballet #nyc #foryoupage #dance class #dance photography #1950s history #magnum #magnum agency #blackandwhite #Howard Greenberg gallery #modern dance choreographers

[hoshifighting]

The Biggest Fanboy

Synopsis: Sooyoung, a loyal fanboy, expressed his admiration for you, his favorite choreographer through social media and DMs. The dynamic unfolds as you, the choreographer, surprises Sooyoung with a visit to his dance studio.

Word count: 6.4k

Reader! Famous choreographer, Hoshi! Her biggest fanboy, also a dance studio owner

Warnings: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), lap dance, dancing sex? Soonyoung is WHIPPED and also a good boy!, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praising, they run away from his studio, intense sex.

As Y/N, a renowned choreographer with a string of successes in the world of dance, you've always been dedicated to your craft. In the bustling metropolis, your fame has reached unexpected heights, attracting fans from all walks of life. Among them is Kwon Sooyoung, a talented dancer who, to your surprise, happens to be a fanboy of your work.

Sooyoung, the proud owner of a prominent dance studio in the heart of the city, has made his admiration for your choreography evident through social media and interviews. His posts and comments on your platforms are a testament to his genuine appreciation for your artistry. Despite the virtual nature of your interactions, there's a unique connection that has developed between you and Sooyoung over the years.

The dance community buzzes with excitement whenever Sooyoung shares his thoughts about your latest creations. His loyalty is unwavering, and his dreams of meeting you one day are a constant thread in his online presence. The friendly exchanges in your direct messages have become a regular occurrence, and he never misses an opportunity to extend an invitation for you to visit his studio.

One day, with a break in your busy schedule, you decide to surprise Sooyoung and make good on his invitation. The metropolis stretches out before you as you arrive at his studio, a sleek and modern space with glass walls that offer glimpses of dancers in various stages of practice. The energy is palpable as you walk through the hallway, admiring the dedication of those who share the same passion for movement.

The receptionist welcomes you warmly, explaining that Sooyoung is currently teaching a class. She gestures down the hallway, directing you to the last room on the right where you can observe the class in session. As you make your way, the sound of music and the rhythmic beat of dancing feet grow louder.

As you sat on the bench, Sooyoung wrapped up the dance class, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the scene before you. The little girls, with beaming smiles, gathered around him like a flock of eager butterflies drawn to the warmth of his presence. Sooyoung, wearing that bright pink ballet skirt over his black sweatpants with an air of confidence, embodied a perfect blend of professionalism and playfulness.

The music faded, and Sooyoung, with his infectious energy, announced, "It's time to say goodbye, girls!" The children, bubbling with enthusiasm, rushed toward him, calling out, "Uncle Soonyoung!" Your heart warmed as you witnessed the genuine affection they held for him.

One by one, Sooyoung embraced each child, lifting them off the ground and spinning them in his arms. Laughter filled the room as he playfully interacted with each girl, making sure to pat their heads and exchange a few words before letting them go. His genuine care and affection for his young students were palpable.

Observing this heartwarming spectacle, You couldn't help but be captivated by Sooyoung's ability to create a nurturing and joyous environment in his dance studio. The way he effortlessly connected with the children showcased not only his skills as a dancer but also his genuine love for teaching and mentoring.

As the last of the children leave the room, Sooyoung takes a moment to catch his breath and rehydrate. He reaches for a water bottle, taking a sip as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

Meanwhile, you stand outside the glass wall, arms crossed, and a wide grin on your face. The anticipation builds as you patiently wait for Sooyoung to look up and notice your presence.

Finally, as if prompted by some invisible cue, Sooyoung's gaze shifts from his phone to the room beyond. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of your figure, and he does a double-take. The water bottle pauses mid-air as he raises his eyes, and a gasp escapes him. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he chokes on his water at the unexpected sight of you.

Coughing and sputtering, Sooyoung quickly puts down the water bottle, his expression evolving from surprise to sheer excitement. His eyes lock with yours through the glass, and a mix of emotions plays on his face—joy, disbelief, and genuine happiness. His phone slips from his hand, momentarily forgotten as he rushes to the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n?" Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?" Sooyoung stammered. The little girls' earlier cries of 'Uncle Soonyoung' are now replaced by the pulsating beat of your name on his lips. "I never thought you'd actually come." 

"Well, here I am," you answer, you can't help but smile at his reaction, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I figured it was about time I took you up on that invitation," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes "your enthusiasm on social media finally convinced me."

Sooyoung laughs, a joyful sound that fills the room. "I can't believe you saw all those fangirl comments and actually decided to visit. This is amazing!" 

You can't help but chuckle at Sooyoung's sudden self-awareness as he glances around, perhaps noticing your gaze lingering on his choice of attire. "I'm sorry, I must look like a mess after the class." He apologizes with a sheepish grin, acknowledging the contrast between the bright pink ballet skirt and the practical black sweatpants. 

"Oh, don't apologize at all," you assure him, your smile widening. "I think it's a bold fashion statement. Shows you're not afraid to have a little fun, even while teaching."

Sooyoung relaxes a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up in relief. "Yeah, it's a little tradition I have with the kids. They love it when I wear something unexpected. Keeps the energy high, you know?"

You nod in understanding, appreciating the effort he puts into creating a lively and enjoyable atmosphere for his students. The vibrant pink skirt becomes a symbol of his dedication and connection with the kids he teaches.

Sooyoung beams with pride, leading you further into the dance studio. "I've been following your work for years, and having you here is like a dream come true for me and the kids."

"Thank you for making the time to come here. My students are going to lose their minds when they find out you're here," he says, excitement evident in his voice.

You wave off his gratitude with a smile, appreciating the genuine excitement in Sooyoung's voice. "It's my pleasure. I've heard so much about your studio, and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself."

As you walk through the vibrant space, the walls echoing with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic steps of dance, you can feel the energy and passion that permeate the studio. 

"Guess who's here, everyone?" Sooyoung exclaims, and the anticipation in the room builds.

The students exchange curious glances until their eyes fall upon you, the famous choreographer they've likely seen on screens and admired from a distance. The realization dawns on them, and the room buzzes with excitement.

As the students express their awe and gratitude, you find yourself surrounded by a group of enthusiastic young dancers eager to share their experiences and ask questions. Sooyoung watches with pride as the studio transforms into a hub of excitement and inspiration.

"See what I mean?" Sooyoung says to you with a grin.

[...]

As the clock strikes 10 pm, you check your phone and realize it's time to bid farewell to the lively dance studio. Sooyoung, with a hint of disappointment on his face, accepts the announcement that you need to leave. His shoulders sag a bit, reminiscent of a child whose playtime is coming to an end.

"Thank you so much for coming. This means a lot to all of us," Sooyoung expresses his gratitude once again.

You chuckle at his childlike reaction, finding it endearing. "It was my pleasure, Sooyoung. Your studio is truly something special."

As you gather your things to leave, Sooyoung, with a shy yet hopeful expression, hesitates before making a request. "Um, can I... Can I give you a hug?"

His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but find his humility charming. You agree with a warm smile, and he practically beams with joy as he wraps his arms around you. Sooyoung seems to forget the world around him for a moment, reveling in the embrace, and he murmurs a heartfelt thank you.

Stepping back, he seizes the opportunity to extend another invitation, this time to the upcoming spring confraternization of the studio on Saturday. Sooyoung's eyes reflect a mix of hope and excitement as he asks, "Would you like to come? It would mean the world to everyone."

You consider the invitation, appreciating the sincerity in his request. "I'll see if I can make it. If my schedule allows, count me in."

Sooyoung's face lights up with joy once again, and he thanks you eagerly. With a final wave, you exit the dance studio, leaving behind a room filled with memories of unexpected surprises, shared laughter, and the promise of a potential reunion at the upcoming spring event.

As you arrive home, your phone buzzes with excitement, and Sooyoung's name lights up on the screen. With a smile, you open the messages to find a delightful spam of photos, capturing the memorable moments you shared at the dance studio. You respond in kind, sharing some of the photos you took, creating a virtual album of the unexpected day.

Sooyoung comments that a fellow dancer from the studio managed to capture some beautiful shots. Anticipation builds as you wait for the photos to download. When the images finally reveal themselves, there's a heartwarming photo of the two of you hugging and another where you're captured mid-laughter.

"We look good," you reply, adding a playful emoji to convey your delight at the captured moments.

Inspired by the joyous memories, you decide to share a sequence of photos from the day on your social media. The last image in the series is the candid shot of you and Sooyoung wrapped in a warm embrace. In the caption, you express your gratitude, acknowledging Sooyoung's kindness and the incredible day you spent at his studio.

"Such a sweetheart! 🌟 Today was absolutely incredible. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Sooyoung" you write, accompanied by a heart emoji.

The post quickly garners attention, with friends, fans, and followers expressing their admiration for the dynamic duo and the evident connection between the famous choreographer and the dedicated dance studio owner. 

Sooyoung's excitement reaches new heights as he sees your post on social media, featuring the photos of the two of you hugging. In a burst of enthusiasm, he can't contain himself and immediately shows the post to Seungkwan and Dokyeom, eager to share the unexpected turn of events.

"Guys, look at this!" Sooyoung exclaims, waving his phone at his friends. "Guess who just posted pictures of us hugging?"

Seungkwan and Dokyeom lean in to get a better look, their curiosity piqued. As the images appear on the screen, they exchange amused glances, clearly entertained by the uproar unfolding in the comments section.

"Soonyoung, you sly dog," Dokyeom teases, nudging him playfully. "Looks like her fanbase is having a field day with this."

Seungkwan adds with a grin, "I knew you had a soft spot for each other. The fans are shipping you two hard."

Sooyoung's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I didn't expect this at all. They really think we look like a couple?"

Dokyeom chuckles, "Well, judging by these comments, they're all in for it. Y'all are becoming a thing, apparently."

Seungkwan joins in the laughter, "Who would've thought? Your crush is now the talk of the country, Sooyoung." The three of them share a moment of camaraderie and amusement as they scroll through the comments, witnessing the unexpected frenzy caused by the seemingly innocent hug.

[...]

Sooyoung had been tapping his feet nervously, anticipation building as he awaited your arrival at the studio's spring event. Throughout the week, your conversations had been filled with uncertainties due to your hectic schedule. He hadn't received a confirmation, leaving him on edge, hoping against hope that you'd show up.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement when he caught sight of you walking towards the studio. With a quick glance in the window's reflection, he hastily adjusted his hair and straightened his shirt, hoping to make a good impression.

As you entered, the energy in the room shifted. The circle of people around you buzzed with excitement, eager to engage with the renowned choreographer in their midst. You graciously greeted them, sharing smiles and warm words, soaking in the atmosphere.

But when your gaze finally met Sooyoung's, his heart skipped a beat. Your bright smile was like a ray of sunshine, and as the crowd parted, you made your way toward him. The circle of people hushed, giving the two of you a moment.

You embraced Sooyoung in a warm hug, and his nerves melted away in that instant. "I'm so glad I could make it," you said softly.

Sooyoung, feeling a rush of emotions, stammered slightly, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I hoped, but... wow."

You chuckled at his flustered reaction, deciding to playfully tease him. "Were you worried I wouldn't show up?"

He blushed, a mix of embarrassment and joy coloring his cheeks. "I, uh, well... maybe a little. It's just... it means a lot that you came."

"Well, you did invite me, didn't you? Couldn't let you down, especially with all these fans waiting to see us together."

Sooyoung, reveling in the playful banter, smirks mischievously in response to your comment. "Oh, I see how it is," he teases, feigning mock offense. "I thought you came just for my dazzling dance moves, not to please the fans." He winks, his tone light and full of humor, "Guess I'll have to step up my game then, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your eyes shifting to the big TV across the room where a video from Sooyoung's YouTube channel plays, showcasing his impeccable dance skills to a sensual song. With a sly grin, you suggest, "Maybe you can show me all those dazzling dance moves... when we're alone."

Sooyoung, catching on to the playful tone, licks his lips with a suggestive smirk. "Oh, trust me," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've got a whole private playlist of moves that haven't made it to YouTube yet. Maybe you'll get an exclusive performance sometime."

In a whispered tease, you say, "Maybe you can give me a private lesson in those unreleased moves later. I'm curious to see if they're as impressive as you claim."

Your sultry suggestion catches Sooyoung off guard, and he sharply inhales, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Well, if you're up for it, maybe I'll have to give you a sneak peek right here, right now," he whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

As you spot Sooyoung's car in the garage, you turn to him with a playful grin. "Are you seriously going to ditch the event like this?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

Sooyoung, clicking the car key with a confident smirk, glances at you with a hint of mischief. "Who cares about the event when I can have you all to myself?" he responds, his tone carrying a touch of naughtiness.

His carefree attitude about leaving the event behind to have an intimate moment with you adds to the excitement. The sound of the car unlocking becomes a signal for your private escape. 

As you settle into Sooyoung's car, the city lights casting a soft glow on the interior, you turn to him with a teasing smile. "So, why exactly do you want to have me all to yourself?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Sooyoung glances at you, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. "Well," he begins, his tone playfully contemplative, "I thought it'd be a shame to waste such a perfect night on anyone else when I could have your undivided attention."

 "Someone's being a bit greedy, wanting me all to themselves. Don't you know how to share?"

Sooyoung, without missing a beat, smirks and replies, "Well, when it comes to you, I don't mind being a little selfish. Can you blame me?"

With a sly grin, you lean in a little closer, your voice taking on a more suggestive tone. "Well, if you're going to be greedy, you better be prepared to handle all of me," you tease, letting the implication hang in the air.

Sooyoung, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness, feels a rush of heat. He glances at you with widened eyes, a mix of surprise and desire evident on his face. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a different kind of energy, and you can sense the playful banter taking a more flirtatious turn. Your naughty answer has the desired effect, making Sooyoung's mind race with anticipation as the city lights continue to flicker outside the car window.

As the car comes to a stop at a red signal, you feel Sooyoung's gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Sensing his desire, you catch his eye and decide to playfully escalate the teasing. With the tip of your fingers, you subtly pull up the hem of your dress, revealing more of your legs.

Sooyoung, his eyes now fixed on the provocative sight, glances up to meet yours. His gaze darkens with desire, and he inhales sharply. "If you keep teasing me like this," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mixture of lust and anticipation, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to wait until we get somewhere."

With a sly smile, you respond to Sooyoung's suggestive remark, "I think I'd prefer a bit more space than a car. Besides, there are some moves I want to show you that might not be suitable for the back seat."

Sooyoung's eyes light up with a mix of excitement and curiosity as he hears your response. "Well, now you've got my attention. What kind of moves are we talking about here?" he asks, a playful grin playing on his lips.

You maintain the sly smile, enjoying the playful banter between you two. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," you reply, your tone teasing and suggestive.

"Well, then," he says, the anticipation evident in his voice, "where do you suggest we go? I'm up for a little adventure."

Sooyoung's grin widens as you suggest, "How about we continue this adventure at my place?"

His eyes light up with excitement, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan" he replies, his voice carrying a playful yet eager tone. 

You slide your hands to his thigh, a subtle yet unmistakable signal guiding him towards your house. Sooyoung, his mind still buzzing from the teasing and the charged atmosphere, follows your lead.

He turns the car, the familiar quarter of your apartment passing by once again. The combination of the tantalizing proximity and your hand inching higher on his thigh has Sooyoung's concentration wavering. The city lights outside blur as he navigates the familiar route, the rhythm of the car reflecting the heightened pulse of the night.

In the confined space of the elevator, Sooyoung locks eyes with you from across the corner. A charged atmosphere fills the air as the anticipation reaches its peak. With a swift move, Sooyoung steps closer, his eyes conveying an undeniable desire.

Without a word, he surprises you with a passionate tongue kiss, the sudden intensity catching you off guard. His lips meet yours in a heated embrace, and you can feel the hunger in the way he kisses, a mix of desire and urgency. Sooyoung's hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer as the elevator continues its ascent.

As the elevator door opens, you pull Sooyoung with you, still lost in the fervor of the kiss. The two of you stumble towards your apartment door, the intensity of the moment propelling you forward. The keys tremble in your hands as you fumble to unlock the door, the urgency building with each passing second.

Finally, the door swings open, and you practically run inside, eager to feel Sooyoung's lips on yours again. You turn around, your back against the door, your bodies pressed together. Sooyoung wastes no time, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sends shivers down your spine.

With a subtle yet assertive move, you pull Sooyoung by the hem of his shirt, guiding him towards your room. The anticipation between you two continues to grow, and you have a plan in mind. Once in your room, you reach for your phone, intending to set the mood with a carefully chosen song.

After selecting the perfect track, you toss your phone onto the desk and turn your attention back to Sooyoung. With a teasing smile, you guide him to sit on the bed.

Sooyoung, unable to resist the alluring rhythm of your hips moving in sync with the music, bites his lip in a gesture of both desire and restraint. A moan escapes him, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he gazes at you. His furrowed eyebrows and fluttering eyes betray a mixture of longing and arousal, the unspoken connection between you becoming increasingly palpable.

As the music continues to play, creating a sultry backdrop to the scene, Sooyoung lays on his elbows, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of desire and anticipation. Sensing the connection between you two, you decide to take control, and you hover over him, creating an intimate space between your bodies.

You lift your hips up and down, the rhythm of the motion syncing with the music. He can feel your pussy bumping into his dick on purpose when you swing your ass above his bulge. 

Sooyoung, captivated by the intimate dance and the connection between you two, lets out a low, throaty whisper, his voice dripping with desire. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his words revealing the intensity of the sensations that course through him.

His gaze remains locked onto you, a mixture of admiration and longing in his eyes. As the music weaves its way around the room, his hands find a gentle yet firm place on your hips, following the rhythm you've set. The unspoken language of desire fills the air, and in this intimate moment, Sooyoung's words echo the emotions that swirl between you, creating a soundtrack to the shared experience unfolding in the dimly lit room.

The room is filled with a charged silence as you take the hem of your dress and pull it up, revealing yourself naked to Sooyoung. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sharp inhale escapes him as his mouth slightly opens, captivated by the sight before him. The dim lighting accentuates the contours of your figure, casting a sensual glow on the intimate moment.

Sooyoung's eyes widen even further in chock as he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath the dress adds another layer of intensity to the moment. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, a natural response to the electrifying contact between his pants and your exposed cunt. The fabric creates a tantalizing friction on your clit, adding a layer of intensity to the sensual dance.

Sooyoung, attuned to your reactions, registers the moan with a mixture of satisfaction and heightened desire. His hands, still firmly placed on your hips, tighten slightly in response to the shared sensations, pulling you closer and pressing you firmly against his bulge.

As Sooyoung takes off his shirt, revealing a sculpted and toned physique, he starts to dance his hips, swaying with a rhythm that mirrors the sultry music playing in the background. The tactile sensation of Sooyoung's rough jeans against your pussy adds a heightened dimension to the dance of desire. The fabric, brushing against you with every movement, creates a tantalizing friction that further amplifies your pleasure.

In the intimate setting, you look into Sooyoung's eyes and, with a sultry tone, express your longing, "Sooyoung-ah, I want more. I want you so bad."

His thumb runs through your folds, then he starts circling your clit, your knees shaking with the sudden contact of his warm skin. Sooyoung, still teasing with his skilled fingers, leans in and asks in a sultry whisper, "Do you really want me?" His question hangs in the air, the room filled with a charged anticipation. Without waiting for a verbal response, he plants a series of sensual kisses along the valley of your breasts.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you grip Sooyoung's hair firmly, making him hiss. His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and desire evident in his gaze. With a sense of urgency, Sooyoung speeds up his actions in response to your moans, each movement adding to the crescendo of desire in the room.

Sooyoung, driven by the escalating desire, pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, his gaze locking with yours from below. The change in perspective adds an extra layer of intensity to the moment. Your breath catches as Sooyoung's mouth works its magic, each touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. Clit being sucked and flicked with his warm tongue, making you scream his name. 

Sooyoung, immersed in the task at hand, closes his eyes, dedicating himself to giving you pleasure. His focused demeanor showcases his commitment, as if it's a ride-or-die mission. You run your fingers gently along his cheek, appreciating the dedication he puts into the moment. A soft laugh escapes you as you observe how intensely he's focused.

With a teasing tone, you praise him, "Soonyoun-gie, you're doing so well for me, such a good boy, the best boy." The words find their way into his consciousness, and his cheeks flush with a delightful shade of red. The combination of your praises and the pleasure he's providing creates a potent mix of sensations on him making him moan, vibrations sent straight to your clit.

As the rhythm of your lungs speeds up, breathing becoming fast and erratic, Sooyoung keenly notices the heightened intensity. In response, he speeds up, gripping your thighs tighter with a determined glare. The acceleration of his movements pushes you to the edge, and the climax arrives with an intensity that takes you by surprise. 

As you catch your breath, Sooyoung's gaze meets yours with a satisfaction, and he rises from his kneeling position, a satisfied and content expression on his face. The dimly lit room is filled with a post-climactic tranquility as you catch your breath.

Sooyoung, still close, brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, a tender gesture that adds to the intimacy of the moment. The air is thick with a shared connection, and a comfortable silence envelops the room.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you suggest, "You deserve a reward," as you notice Sooyoung's pants growing tighter. He chuckles nervously, attempting to decline the offer, "No, no, no need to. I'm satisfied."

Ignoring his protests, you proceed to unbutton his jeans, your hands working with a deliberate intent on his hard dick. "I swear, Y/N-nie, I-I'm already too-" As your touch intensifies, Sooyoung's words begin to slow down until they get lost in the growing tension. His breath becomes heavier against your neck, the room filled with the palpable anticipation of the next shared experience.

In the quiet, intimate space between you and Sooyoung, his protests become muffled breaths against your neck as your hands continue their skillful exploration. As you work your magic, Sooyoung's resistance dissolves, replaced by a growing need. He breathes heavily against your neck, words escaping him in fragmented whispers. "I... I didn't expect this... you're too much," he stammers.

Amused by Sooyoung's sincerity, you praise him once again, "You deserve it, you know. You made me feel so good." As you swing your feet, a playful expression on your face, you continue, "And it's not just about me. You should enjoy it too."

Sooyoung, still catching his breath, shakes his head, a content smile playing on his lips. "I'm already satisfied, honestly. Just seeing you like that, hearing you... it's more than enough. I dreamt about that," he admits, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of vulnerability.

You can't help but find it endearing, his selflessness in the pursuit of your pleasure. "You're too good, Sooyoung-ah," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes.

In response to your teasing, Sooyoung chuckles nervously, "I-I'm fine, really. No need for anything else." However, you can sense a subtle curiosity in his eyes, a desire to explore further.

With a playful grin, you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Are you sure?" you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I can make your dreams come true too, Sooyoung-ah."

His cheeks flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "Well, maybe just a little," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a shy smile.

As Sooyoung gets free from the rest of his clothes, he watches you approach his cock with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. His breath becomes shakier, and he confesses, "I think I'm going to lose my mind."

A mischievous smile plays on your lips as you respond, "That's exactly what I want, Sooyoung-ah." Your words add a layer of playful tension to the room, and you continue to pump his dick with a deliberate touch.

Sooyoung sulks slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure washing over him. He mutters, "This is too much," but his body betrays him, responding to your every touch.

As the exploration continues, Sooyoung's sulking demeanor begins to transform into a mixture of pleasure and surrender. Your skilled touch elicits soft moans from him.

Despite his initial protests, Sooyoung's body responds eagerly to your every move. 

You pause amidst the intimate exchange, a soft smile gracing your lips as you ask, "Are you always this shy?" starting to pump him again.

Sooyoung, his cheeks still flushed, chuckles softly and replies, "No, it's not usually like this. I guess it's just... you."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Me? What did I do to make you so shy, Sooyoung-ah?"

He shrugs playfully, a shy smile lingering on his lips. "I don't know. You just have this effect on me, I guess." he replies as he watches you getting down.

As your mouth wraps around Sooyoung's cock, he gasps loudly, arching his back in response to the unexpected pleasure. His mumbles become a symphony of fragmented words and hushed expressions of pleasure.

"Oh, woah," he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "T-that feels... amazing," he stammers, his voice catching between breaths. Incoherent whispers escape him as the sensations ripple through his body.

You feel his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch, his mumbles a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he's experiencing. 

Sooyoung can't help but vocalize his pleasure when his tip hits the back of your throat, making a dripping mess around his cock, and then coming back, licking the head with flickering licks. 

Sooyoung, caught in the throes of pleasure, finds himself reaching the peak of ecstasy. The grip on your hair tightens, a mixture of desire and urgency. His moans become more pronounced, blending with your own shared sounds of passion.

"Ah, sorry," he manages to mumble between moans, his voice husky with desire. He loosens his grip, his fingers now gently caressing your scalp as an apology. However, you find the roughness oddly pleasurable, and it only adds to the heightened atmosphere. 

His words continue to be a mix of apologies and incoherent expressions of pleasure. "Didn't mean to," he whispers, but his actions betray his sincerity.

As Sooyoung reaches his peak of pleasure, his grip tightens momentarily before his body tenses with the release. He makes a mess, his breath hitching with the intensity of the moment. His chin lifts, and he throws his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

The room is filled with the aftermath of shared ecstasy, the air heavy with a mix of passion and satisfaction. Sooyoung's body relaxes, and he breathes heavily, the waves of pleasure slowly subsiding.

After the intensity of the moment, you lean in to kiss Sooyoung, sharing the intimate taste of the aftermath. Your lips linger on his, and then you trail kisses across his cheeks, coaxing him back to the present.

As he slowly returns from the depths of ecstasy, you look into his eyes and softly ask, "Are you good, Sooyoung?"

Unable to formulate words, Sooyoung responds with a deep, satisfied moan. His body, still humming with the echoes of pleasure, communicates a sense of contentment that transcends spoken language.

As Sooyoung starts to regain consciousness, he begins to kiss your neck with a newfound awareness. The intimate act sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel his growing desire pressing against you.

His lips linger on your neck, and in the sultry atmosphere, you playfully remark, "Feeling more awake now, Sooyoung-ah?"

Sooyoung, his voice laced with desire, responds, "Very awake, especially here," as he gently emphasizes his growing arousal.

A mischievous glint in your eyes, you tease, "Should we change positions, or are you comfortable like this?"

Sooyoung, unable to resist the playful banter, grins, "I think a change of scenery would be nice. What do you have in mind?" 

As the dynamics shift, Sooyoung now on top of you, his gaze filled with attentiveness, you look up at him with a playful yet commanding glint in your eyes. With a sly smile, you order, "Sooyoung-ah, show me your best moves. Dance for me."

His eyes widen with surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement playing on his features.

Sooyoung, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm, focuses on the intimate performance. The music playing in the background becomes a subtle soundtrack to the dance unfolding between you two. He pushes only his tip, making you look at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip. 

As Sooyoung hovers over you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and concern for your comfort, he softly asks, "How do you want it, slowly or all in at once?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful yet anticipatory expression. "Surprise me," you respond, your voice filled with a hint of excitement.

As Sooyoung fulfills your request and enters all at once, a gasp escapes your lips, quickly turning into a passionate scream of his name. The room resonates with the intensity of the moment, the sound of your voice echoing through the intimate space.

Sooyoung, captivated by the raw and unrestrained pleasure he evoked, finds himself amazed. The realization that his biggest inspiration is screaming his name in the most explicit way adds a layer of ecstasy to the experience. 

As Sooyoung begins to roll his hips, his hands exploring every inch of your body, the dance takes on a new rhythm. The synchronization of his movements with the subtle beats of the song transforms the room into a private stage.

His hips meet yours in a rhythmic dance, circling and rolling in a slow and deliberate motion. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl with the intoxicating sensation.

Sooyoung starts to pick up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more fervent. The connection deepens as he feels you tightening around him, a telltale sign of shared ecstasy.

Sooyoung, balancing on the edge of the bed, moans with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of surrender. "Right there," you cry out, his name escaping your lips. Sensing the impending climax, you encourage him with breathless urgency, "Don't stop, Sooyoung, don't you dare stop." Sooyoung, his voice strained with desire, responds, "I won't stop, not until you're fully satisfied."

As Sooyoung continues his passionate rhythm, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot with precision, the intensity builds. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your body tenses in response.

Then, in a wave of ecstasy, you reach the climax. Your body arches, and a torrent of pleasure courses through you, wetting both him and the bed. The room echoes with the sounds of your moans, and your body stretches in a blissful release, forming a perfect "O."

As Sooyoung witnesses the physical and emotional intensity etched across your face — the tightness around him, your shaky knees, and the continuous symphony of moans — a profound realization hits him. The sheer pleasure, the uncontrollable reactions, it's all because of him.

Overwhelmed by the sight before him, he succumbs to the intensity of the moment. His moans become a mantra of your name, a vocal expression of the pleasure coursing through him.

Your bodies are locked in a passionate embrace, and Sooyoung, on the precipice of climax, finally reaches the peak. He fills you up, the room resonating with the echoes of shared ecstasy, the culmination of a dance that transcended physicality.

In the aftermath of shared pleasure, Sooyoung, overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, tightens his embrace as if cherishing the moment. His arms envelop you as if it were the last time you'd be together in such an intimate space.

You, equally caught in the emotional currents, caress his hair tenderly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. The room becomes a haven for shared vulnerability, a sanctuary where physical and emotional intimacy converge.

"I've admired you for so long, and now, being with you like this, it feels surreal."

You gently tease Sooyoung, noting his sentiment, "You're acting like this is our last moment together."

He raises his shoulder in a playful shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I... I don't know what happens next."

Your tone softens with a playful reassurance, "Relax, it's not the end. In fact, I want to do this again. Maybe 200 times in every corner of my house."

Sooyoung's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at your suggestion. "200 times? That's... quite a lot," he stammers, caught off guard by the playful proposal.

You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying the playful banter. "I'm just kidding. But I definitely wouldn't mind doing this again."

The room fills with a light-hearted atmosphere, the tension easing into a comfortable and playful exchange. Sooyoung, recovering from the initial surprise, raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Does that number also include the rounds?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no. The rounds are not included in that count. But speaking of rounds, how about a round two in the bathroom?"

Sooyoung, now grinning, responds with a hint of mischief, "Bathroom, huh? That sounds intriguing. Lead the way."

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[yourlocalsmutwriter]

A dramatic overture - Bada Lee x reader

You were a bit of an unusual ballet dancer. To put it plainly, you were a bit of a fuckup sometimes. But wasn't everyone? Apparently not, according to your overbearing mother. And your choreographer, the infamous Bada Lee. How you landed in her troupe was a mystery.

Not only was she an insanely talented leader, she had been a phenomenal dancer beforehand. Other girls like Lusher and Tater flourished under her guidance. You, on the other hand still needed some work.

And that is exactly what you did. Day and night you practiced tirelessly. After all, ballet was an art, and weren't all the greats tortured and starving? You were eating still, the only pleasure you allowed yourself. The rest was wake up, go to dance, go home, and then repeat the cycle again and again. But your efforts paid off in the end.

And you had perfected your routine just in time for your audition. You were doing Swan Lake, a staple in the community for dancers and the audience as well. And of course, Bada wanted to put her twist on it. So at the end of the season there would be a special ''modern'' retelling of the plot, with all original choreography from her. You were excited. As stereotypical it was, you loved Swan Lake. It was the ballet that made you want to be a dancer in the first place. And Odile was your dream role ever since you were a child. So you tried to brush off your insecurity and worked for it.

You had been to the studio at such late hours that your parents started to suspect you had a boyfriend. You didn't have the heart to tell them that a boyfriend was the last thing they would ever have to worry about it. So you brushed it off and insted went in during your allocated dinner hours. And since you absolutely hated breakfast and really anthing early in the morning, you were down to one meal a day. It's not like you planned it and it wasn't affecting you that badly. At least thats what you thought at first. But by hour 4 of practice, you were exausted. You did a turn and felt your body go limp. You tried to break your fall in, but you still slammed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Your fall must have been serious because Bada rushed in. You didn't even know she was in the studio then. You prepared fora lecture and her berating you on your stupidity and carelesness. But instead she let you lean on her and get to her office. There, you sat on a comfortable plush chair as she brought you a sports drink and an icepack. You were too tired to think about where her personal fridge was located and just how big it was. As your pain got lighter, you could focus more on what she was saying.

''And please, be careful. I see you work hard. But don't neglect yourself too much. The most important thing to focus on is your health. And as for the role, don't worry, there's plenty of roles, plenty of other shows.''

While she was right, you were stubborn. But you did not have a death wish, so you scaled back your practices by only 15 minutes, but it's the thought that counts. And also you started packing sandwiches. And little by little, it came time for auditions. Surprisingly, Odile was still popular, so you were up against the stars of your group. Still, they relied on their already existing talent and hadn't really bothered to memorize new techniques. And you had worked hard, building a completely new persona for your dancing. And that did not go unnoticed by Bada. So her decision was easy. Almost as easy as the way you cried tears of joy upon seeing the cast list. You had it. The role was yours. The pain was over.

Little did you know, the pain was just beginning. Now it was just a lot. while Odile was a background character most of the time, there was still her solo. And you dreaded it. Not only the dancing but also dancing with a man. It's not like you had anything against men. In fact, you were on good terms with most of the male members of the troupe. You just couldn't feel the necessary passion and attraction needed to dance with them. And you couldn't fake that love, even on stage for just a few minutes. But you managed. Bada had some minor critiques, which you corrected. And so the first cour of your performances began. Your choreographer had you do a limited summer run with the original production. Then, in the quieter ballet months you'd train again for her version of Swan Lake.

You were excited to play Odile twice. But little did you know, in Bada's version the cast would be all female. And you found out that last.

While you were on your last regular performance, she pulled you aside and told you there would be some changes to the cast list. She watched your face pale for a few seconds before adding that your spot would not change. And you swore she added a wink at the end, just to torment you.

Maybe it was worry. Maybe it was a stomach bug from all the supermarket sandwiches. But you were too sick to make it to rehearsal. You called your choreographer and almost tearfully apologized over and over again. Yet, Bada reassured you. Your role was not in the first acts anyway, so she'd focus on them now. But little did you know, she was simultaneously holding auditions. And she made sure to take down the new cast list before you return.

It was worth the hassle and the looks of bewilderment from the other dancers. Because she essentially saw you go through every stage of gay panic in the span of 5 minutes.

You walked in the studio, seeing her. She queued up the pas de deux music and walked over to the oposite side of the room. She stood on the blocking of your partner's position and motioned for you to take your place. When you were still frozen on your spot, she began explaining.

''We're in Bada's version now. And seeing how abysmall your chemistry was with the male leads, I made some changes.'' she said.

''If I was so bad, why didn't you say something. Why didn't you recast me.'' you questioned.

''You're a good dancer. And besides, it was just Swan Lake. I cannot be revolutional, I don't want to claim I can rewrite the story better. But making my cast all female of my own show, that's another thing. A modern retelling of a classic. With a strong message on how love isn't dictated by the gender binary. These tickets will sell like fresh bread.'' she explained

''And you're coming out of retirement to do this.'' you added, getting it now.

''Jackpot.''

''So you're doing this to get money.''

''I'm doing this for art. And to keep your fees from raising. Costume, set decor, rent on the studio, I'm guessing you don't want to pay that. Unless you do, then get in position.''

Her movements were so fluid. Additionally, she could lift you with ease. The thing is, every time she touched you, it felt like electricity was running through you. So you couldn't really focus and fumbled. Bada was a bit annoyed, but then she started over. Still, you were rattled. Why did this make you feel this way? Bada was attractive. But why would her appearance affect you so much? And now? So you continued to dance, pushing away the thoughts for some time. And it worked for a bit. You two managed to complete the routine. And did it again a few times again, to solidify it.

And then you did it perfectly. You would never use that word lightly, but it was true. It was a million times better than with your male partners. So you were confident that you would nail it.

''Okay, you have the energy now. Let's start learning the routine.'' Bada said.

You were confused. You knew your choreography, and you were wondering if there was a light misstep on your part. And then, Bada started a completely new dance. You wondered when she had the time to choreograph this. It was a completely different way of moving, looking more like a street style. You had never danced like this. But clearly, Bada had. She was so good, even better than with ballet. Was this on purpose? Or was it just her trying to showcase a skill? But why throw you under the bus? You could talk to her about it. Ask her to pull back on some moves, but still add that Bada flare. But you didn't do that. You just tried to copy her moves. You were a professional, so you could pick it up. And it's not like you picked up ballet in one go.

So you tried again. And again. And again. At first, Bada was guiding you very closely, being next to you, correcting your posture with her hands. After a few hours of that, she gets tired of this and sits down, just giving you oral feedback. That frustrated you. And the fact that she kept forcing you to practice over and over again. And at the end of the day, you were just tired and ended up just going home, with no progress on your end. The thing is, you tried again and again. You ended up having a sleepless night in order to get something done. And even though you were dancing like there was no tomorrow, there was little progress.

But you just kept at it. Rehearsing. Going home and dancing there. By the time you went to sleep, it was time to get up again. On days when you weren't training you'd just sleep and eat, calling it a day. You were becoming slovenly. Makeup and brushing your hair were becoming luxuries and so were laundry and showers. And the worst part is, you weren't improving. Street dancing was just not your thing. But it was everyone else's thing. Bada and the whole group could do it. Except you. You were the outcast again. And for no reason. It's not like you were bad at performing in your signature style. What pissed you off the most was surprisingly Bada. She was the incompetent one, not you. She couldn't lead you properly. You hoped she would help and you were called to her office at the end of the day. But instead, you got chewed up. Midway through her rant, someone stormed in, talking to her about a defaced poster and how it was going viral, but not in a good way. She excused herself and promised she'd be back soon. But 5 minutes past. Then 10. Then 15. And the whole time Bada's phone was buzzing with notifications. It was driving you insane. So you reached out to put it on silent mode. But something caught your eye. All the notifs were from a groupchat called TEAM BEBE and the picture was that of the troupe. So you looked at the messages and everyone was talking about you. Lusher, Tatter, even Cheche, they were all bad mouthing you. Making fun of you for the things, that were beyond your control. You had had enough so you just stormed out of there.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You dressed for revenge. First, you went to a salon to reverse the damage to your hair. Then you actually took time and booked a morning makeup session at the MAC counter, making sure to add a striking red lip. To top it all off, you decided to get some new clothes for the rehearsals. A few sexy and black pieces later, you had wiped out your salary. But none of that mattered.

While your transformation was already almost unbelievable, you knew it wasn't enough to shine to dazzle your so-called teammates. But the first person with a target on their back was Bada herself. After all, she was the one that got you into this mess in the first place. So you knew just how to make her regret it. But your plan wasn't exactly foolproof. And you were about to find that out.

First, you joined Bada in your usual practice room. It was surreal to see yourself reflected in so many mirrors while looking like this. You brushed it off. You began the routine and messed up horrendously, this time on purpose. You kept butchering it again and again until Bada stood up begrudgingly to help you. As soon as she got close enough, you pushed her back, watching her topple to the ground, her spine contorting into a graceful, sweeping curve. She was beautiful, even when falling. You wasted no time in straddling her waist, fully prepared to fight her. By then, she was fighting back too, trying to knee you, making you enclose your legs against her thigh. Bada pushes you back, but her hands meet your chest. And you fucking moan. She just raises an eyebrow and looks at you. Then she moves her hands to your hips, making you rock back and forth.

''If a good fuck is all you need to dance correctly, I'll give it to you princess,'' she said. You were about to protest, but she flexed her thigh and you were a goner. You let her take control completely. Bada made you grind your hips on her, to hump her leg like a horny pet. She snapped off the buttons of your leotard, so your bare pussy was rubbing against her. Your wetness was all over her black pants.

''Bada, I'm going to cum.'' with that your mentor bounced her leg up and down. You leaned towards her and kissed her as your orgasm took over you. She helped you ride it out and watched as you rolled over on the floor, panting and tired. Bada watched you for a minute and then said.

''Oh, my darling, I'm just getting started with you, so you better get up.''

Taglist: @withoctober

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #bada x reader #bada lee #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x oc #bada lee smut #black swan #thigh riding

[fashionbooksmilano]

Dance in Close Up

Hans Van Manen seen by Erwin Olaf

Hannibal, Veurne 2022, 120 pages, 32x32cm, Linen hardcover with tip-in, ISBN 9789464366273

euro 65,00

email if you want to buy [email protected]

Exclusive art project by photographer Erwin Olaf and choreographer Hans van Manen offering a unique view on dance and photography

“Ballet inspires me. Human beings have the capacity to express themselves through many art forms, but when it comes to dance – and especially classical modern ballet – I am always amazed by that unbelievably elevated form of expression. It's so precise and so incredibly skilled; I admire that enormously.” ― Photographer and filmmaker Erwin Olaf

“The fact that the photographer is looking through the camera lens means they have a different perspective from looking directly at the figure. That is voyeuristic. The camera can do something that the audience member can't: zooming in for a close-up.” ― Choreographer Hans van Manen

The grand master of Dutch dance, Hans van Manen, celebrates his 90th birthday this year. That has given rise to international celebrations by leading ballet companies with the Hans van Manen festival from 8 to 29 June 2022, the exclusive publication Dance in Close-Up and the exhibition of the same name in Galerie Ron Mandos in Amsterdam from 19 June to 17 July 2022. From the 1970s to the 1990s, Hans van Manen was not only one of the world's leading choreographers, but also an internationally acclaimed photographer. It was during this period that the then very young photographer Erwin Olaf met the famed artist, who immediately took him under his wing and introduced him to the world of the visual arts and studio photography. This book celebrates their 40 years of friendship, with a photo series in which Van Manen directs moments from his choreographic career, recorded with the utmost precision by Erwin Olaf. With text contributions from the authors Nina Siegal and Michael James Gardner.

04/01/24

#Hans van Manen #Erwin Olaf #photography books #Dutch dance #dance and photography #fashionbooksmilano

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

Janet Collins broke color barriers in the 1950s when she became the first African American prima ballerina and one of the very few prominent black women in American classical ballet.

Collins was born in New Orleans, LA, on this date March 7, 1917, and today we are honored to share a glimpse into the life of a crucial figure in ballet history.

Ms. Collins made her debut as the leading dancer in the Met’s production of “Aïda.” She went on to become the first African American prima ballerina with the Metropolitan Opera. Ms. Collins was also a member of SAB’s guest faculty, teaching modern dance classes at the School from 1949-1950 and then again from 1967-1969.

“Everything was clear. But the speed with which Janet Collins moved was unbelievable,” said Arthur Mitchell an American dancer, choreographer, and director who was the first African American to become a principal dancer with a major ballet troupe, New York City Ballet. He later cofounded the Dance Theatre of Harlem.

“There was a wonderful feeling of flight all the time, but not flight to get away, flight to move. And she really reveled in the movement, she reveled in the movement. And as Balanchine said, ‘a dance is movement through time and space.’ She was the embodiment of that when she danced.”

CARTER™️ Magazine

#janet collins #carter magazine #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #carter #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth

[dejwrld]

˚₊𓆩༺🎸༻𓆪₊˚ — summer of 22', choso kamo

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈. — WHO THE HELL LISTENS TO CLASSICAL MUSIC?

ᩍ before reading please be advised of the following warnings — female reader, written with black reader in mind, humor/crack, noritoshi & choso are cousins in this cause i said so, profanity, this is quite self indulgent and kinda my own assumption & characterization of modern day choso, mentions of choso having a scar, mentions of character death (reader's mom), record shop boss!geto lol, two idiots that bond over music | mdni, taglist, masterlist, other creations

chapter playlist | are you with that by vince staples, wait a minute by willo, the less i know the better by tame impala

JAPAN WAS VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE STATES. A huge cultural shock compared to your busy lifestyle in New York City. You still could remember your father’s long lecture about being aware of your surroundings, don’t talk to strangers, going with your instincts in some locations, and so much more. You would think you were still that young sixteen-year-old girl who was raised by their single dad after the death of her mother, but you were of age. In the fall you would be a graduating senior at Julliard, living alone in a lovely apartment in New York City, teaching dance classes when you had free time, and doing many adult types of activities. You were a functioning young adult whose father still wanted to shelter you away from the world as if you were a hopeless Rapunzel. 

It took some convincing for your father to let you go to a ballet convention in Japan for the summer, especially if he was going to be funding it. You planned to rent out a room, get as much knowledge as possible at this convention so you could be prepared for your senior year at Julliard, and then return home. Your father didn’t agree with that plan. He only agreed when your godmother Utahime Iori agreed to keep an eye on you. 

Utahime Iori was an international ballet superstar and your late mom’s best friend. They met when they both were competing for the lead in Swan Lake, which was given to your mom. But your mother stepped down from the role when she became pregnant with you. The friendship between the two still blossomed from your mom being in the front row on the opening night to cheer Utahime on to your mom even keying Utahime’s boyfriend's car while six months pregnant with you. Utahime would always admit to you that your mom felt like she was her twin flame. They were insufferable when they were apart and together. Such a close bond and your mom’s death took a toll on Utahime. It hit her like a truck hitting a concrete wall at full speed. It sucked Utahime’s love for ballet right away, but the woman still stuck by your side during the journey of your ballet career.

She held your hand as the people around you threw pity your way during the funeral. She defended your passion for dance to your father as if she was defending an important law case. She did your hair for recitals. She stayed up late helping you come up with your Juilliard audition piece. She played the role of your godmother so well that you knew deep down your mom was smiling down on the both of you. 

You were so excited to spend the summer in Utahime’s home country. You knew she was going to want you to practice for the ballet convention because every summer—a dancer is chosen to dance an original piece in front of many known people. From choreographers, dance tour coordinators, and of course, famous ballet royalty. You didn’t want this spot to be given to you considering who your mother was and the fact that Utahime helped fund the convention in the first place. She told you specifically that you won’t get special privileges, that if it’s a better dancer—they will not think twice about replacing you. That’s just how wicked the world of ballet was. When it came to ballet, you didn’t have time to cry about not getting the lead in a dance when the time you were feeling pity for yourself—you could be using it to make yourself better. Those were the words your former ballet instructor explicitly told you and those were the words you kept in your head up to this day. 

“We need to lay down some ground rules,” Utahime stated as she placed a plate of food in front of you.

“Please don’t tell me, my dad gave you some rules.” You whined.

“No, these are my own rules,” Utahime said. She sat down at the table clearing her throat. “Practice comes first. I don’t care what you’re doing, I text you to come practice…come! This is not like the states, the dancers here sleep, eat, and breathe dance.”

“Okay.” 

“No big distractions. I understand you most likely will want to mingle, you’re my very beautiful goddaughter—but please remember what you’re originally here for.” Utahime adds.

“No Summer flings, gotcha!” 

“Okay, I didn’t say that. Just be mindful of who you are flinging with.” Utahime corrected.

“During your free time, please don’t associate yourself with the wrong crowd,” Utahime adds. “A ballerina with a criminal record isn’t cute no matter how good you look in your mugshot.”

“Don’t get arrested, noted. Any other rules?” You took a bite out of your food.

“Enjoy your summer, but please be mindful of what you’re here for. If you get to dance an original piece, it will look wonderful in your portfolio for when you graduate next Spring and that’s the endgame.” 

“Of course! So, can I go exploring?” You eagerly asked. You gave your godmother those innocent puppy dog eyes that she has seen so many times since you were younger.

“Fine, but please be safe. I will be stopping at the dance studio, so when you’re done exploring—meet me there.” Utahime says.

You pushed yourself out of your seat and would go over to Utahime pulling her into a hug. Mumbling many thank yous and even kissing her cheek. “Thank you! I promise I’ll be at the studio at a reasonable time!” You yelled as you were going to leave. 

You didn’t even let Utahime get a word out before you’re heading out of Utahime’s apartment and essentially you're home for the summer. You walked towards the elevator as you were walking, your face was buried in your phone updating your father on how you were doing. Even though he was most likely sleeping soundly back in New York, you still didn’t want to have him so worried during your three months here. You never understood the protectiveness your father had over you. Although it was a duty for fathers to protect their children as if their life depended on it—your father took it a little too far. Especially after your mother’s death, he once tried to take your love of ballet away from you. Arguing that it was the reason that broke your mom down and he refused to let you follow your mother’s dark path. Whatever that meant. Your mother’s death was a hushed secret that no one wanted to talk about. No one talked about what pushed her to do it, not even Utahime. 

So what exactly did your father mean by ballet being why your mother took a dark path?

When you made it to the street, you opened Google and decided to search if any record shops were nearby. In the guest room, you were staying in, Utahime mentioned it being a record player a close friend gave to her and you were eager to use it during your time here. However, she didn’t have any vinyl records at all. She claimed that her career pushed her away from home quite often, so what was the point of buying vinyl records for a record player that only was collecting dust in her guest bedroom? 

The first record shop that popped up was Suguru Records. You clicked on how far it was and wasn’t much of a walk. You placed your earbuds in your ear and soon Jazmine Sullivan was blasting through your ears. You took in everything around you as you were walking. From the architect of each building to the locals that are out and about. You enjoyed this atmosphere so much better than the busy streets of New York City during the rush hour of going to work or coming home from work. It was a soothing atmosphere and it made you even more excited to spend a summer here. Granted, the stares you were receiving as you were walking to your destination—it wasn’t anything new from the stares you received when you went to different ballet events around the world. 

When you finally got to the record shop, you entered it with a smile. The scent in the store was comforting, homely at most. The first thing you noticed when you entered it was empty. To you, that wasn’t good considering that anyone could come in and take what they wanted and leave. You figured that the familiar bell that would annoyingly ring when the record shop door would push open would cause the employees to hurriedly run to the front of the store. You let your fingers brush against the records as you walk down a random aisle specifically looking for the classical section. You can already imagine how beautiful the tune of a popular classical song humming out the record player while you practice in the living room of Utahime’s place. But as you walk around the record shop, you didn’t even see a section for classical music. However, you did pick up a couple of your favorite R&B albums as you were snooping around.

You heard the familiar bell and your eyes darted to the door and you saw a man with long black hair carrying a box into the shop. He had gauges in his ears and if you were being honest, if you looked closely—he looked familiar. As if you saw him on a magazine cover or something. When his eyes met yours and then scanned over the shop, he let out a sigh before slowly dropping the box he was carrying near the register. “Welcome to Suguru Records, I’ll be right back.” He flashed you a kind smile before disappearing in the back. 

You heard some ruckus in the back and what you assumed was the guy who greeted you voice, “I told you two gremlins to stop leaving the front end unattended!” 

Soon the gentleman returned with two guys. He had a grip on the back of their work uniform shirts as if he was a father pitbull lifting his pups by their fur to help them get around better. One of the guys looked at the long-haired gentleman and gave him a deadpan smile, “It’s a slow day and it looks like the customer doesn't even need help. You said it yourself, if it’s slow—Choso and I can work on our music.” One said.

The man let go of the back of the two guys' shirts and he would push one of them towards you. “Noritoshi, you start unloading that box near the register. Choso, you go help the customer before I fire both of you.” 

Noritoshi was near the register mumbling something under his breath before his boss glanced in his direction. “Do you have anything to say, Noritoshi?” The long-haired gentleman asked. 

Noritoshi shook his head, “Oh no, just asking if you were stepping out again, Geto?” He forced a fake smile.

“Yes, an old friend is in town. So please be sure to lock up when we close.” Geto pointed his finger at him and then at Choso before he exited again. 

You went back to looking through the records before you could hear someone clear your throat. When you glanced up, there he stood. The one who the guy called Choso, stood right in front of you. His hair was tugged into two ponytails. But it was one unique thing about him that caused you to stare at him as if he was the most attractive guy you’ve seen. A birthmark decorated his face that imprinted from his cheeks across his nose and on his other cheek. It was quite a unique birthmark, something you had never seen before. “Since that guy that just left signs my checks, I am here to ask if you need help with anything.” His monotone voice trailed off as he was avoiding as much eye contact as possible. 

“Oh yes—do you guys have anything from any classical composers?” You asked and you watched Choso’s face scrunched up in pure disgust. 

“Classical?” Choso asked. 

“Yes, I’ll take anything at this moment.” You said. “My godmother has this record player and I just know a classical record would sound so good on it.” 

“Classical?” Choso repeated just to make sure you understand what you just said. 

“Yes, did I not say it loud enough?” You asked in a frustrated manner. 

Choso held up his hand in a defensive mood and would glance over at Noritoshi who was unloading the box of new vinyl records they received. “Hey, check in the back to see if we have anything for the classical genre!” 

“Classical?” Noritoshi looked up and you wanted to question if the two were related with the way Noritoshi mimicked the exact face of disgust that Choso did. “I think we have some stuff in the back though.” 

Noritoshi waltzed into the back to search for the small number of vinyl records they did have. They weren’t selling, so Geto simply thought they were taking up space from other vinyl records. 

You felt the vinyl records that were once in your arms getting gently pulled from your arm. Choso would flip through your options and you watched as he was looking at your vinyl records quite impressed. He held up the vinyl record for Lucky Daye’s Painted, he had a sly grin on his face. If you were bold enough, you would admit that sly grin on his face was cute. 

“I have this one.” He said. “You have nice music taste, minus the classical thing.” He snickered before he handed you the records back.

“You don’t look like the type to like—“ Your words were cut off by him.

“Lucky Daye music?” 

“Yes.” You admitted as you pulled your records closer to your chest.

“Music is something so magical and versatile. It’s a bit insane to stick to one genre isn’t it?” Choso asked as his back leaned against the record case behind him. His arms folded over his chest and you instantly noticed that his broad arms flexed in his black uniform shirt that had Suguru Records on it. 

“But doesn't that contradict you making that face when I mentioned classical music?” You asked, your perfectly arched eyebrows raised at him.

He chuckles at your statement, “I guess it does…” His voice trails off as his dark-colored eyes gloss over your plump lip gloss-covered lips while he is searching for your name. 

“Y/N.” You answered. 

“I’m just curious as to why you would be interested in classical music?” Choso walked towards the register with you not too far behind him. “You don’t look like the type of girl who-“ 

Now it was your time to interrupt him, “See, you’re contradicting yourself again. You just said that music is such a special thing that you can’t just stick to one genre. Judging a book by its cover, something I did a few minutes ago.” You said.

Choso chuckled as he was beginning to ring up your vinyl records. “I guess we judged each other then.” Choso's eyes met with yours. 

“Yup.” You answered before immediately breaking eye contact. Your cheeks felt so hot at the moment like you were standing outside in ninety-degree weather without water.

Noritoshi came back with a box of vinyl records. “These are the only ones we have. I’m pretty sure Geto put them at a discontinued price also.” He placed the box on the counter. “If we were the managers, we would give you this box for free.” 

You giggled at his comment before flipping through the box. “It’s okay.” You picked three random types of vinyl and placed them on the counter. “I’m sure I’ll  probably buy them all by the time the summer is over with.”

You paid for the records and Choso gave you the bag with all of them on it. It was a cute black reusable bag with the store’s logo on it. Choso leaned against the counter and placed his head in the palm of his hand, never actually taking his eyes off of you. There you were completely avoiding his eye contact. 

Noritoshi was looking through the box of classical music vinyl records. “So, are you saying you actually enjoy this stuff?” He asked while flipping through the box of classical records. 

“I’ve listened to that genre since I was in my mother’s stomach. It’s practically imprinted in my brain,” You admitted as you could feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket.

You quickly looked at the text and saw Utahime’s S.O.S text message. She must have needed you at the dance studio. “But I have to run, godmother needs me. I think I’ll see you guys around.” You began to walk towards the exit but Choso’s voice stopped you & caused you to turn to look in his direction.

“Yes, you will.” He admitted with a smile.

Your cheeks burnt, your words got stuck in your throat, and your brain turned into complete mush. You couldn’t say much, but you returned the smile before eventually leaving the record shop as flustered as a teenager in a cliche Netflix-produced romance movie. 

“No distractions this summer, Y/N. No distractions this summer, Y/N.” You repeat to yourself as you are walking back towards Utahime’s place. 

But as you continued to walk, you could hear someone yelling your name. When you turned around, Choso was jogging up to you to catch up to you. 

“You should come out and see me perform,” Choso was fishing in his jeans pockets until he pulled out a tiny folded-up piece of paper.

“You’re a singer? You continue to shock me, but then again that’s me judging you by your looks again,” You admitted.

“I’m in a band. Well, it’s only Noritoshi and me right now. We’re still looking for other members, but I would love for you to come.” He finally unfolded the paper to reveal a flyer. He extended the paper for you to grab.

“I’ll see if I can make it. I’m going to be quite a busy girl this summer, so I don’t want to get your hopes up.”  You said as you took the flyer from him. Your eyes scan over the flyer that looked like he kept it as a souvenir more than to promote that he was performing. 

“You’re only going to be here for a summer?” Choso's eyebrows raised at you.

“Yeah.” You folded the paper back up to give back to him, but he motioned for you to keep it just in case you could make it.

Choso heard Noritoshi calling him from the front door of the record shop and he would slowly walk backward with a smile. His eyes you couldn’t read just yet never looked away from you before he’s parting his lips to speak.

“That gives us three months!” Choso says as he was walking backward.

“Three months to do what?” You asked out loud.

“Three months to get to know each. I’m kinda intrigued on why you’re a classical music fan in this year of 2022.” He yells back at you before giving you a sly wave and heading back into the record shop.

You turned around once again, flustered as ever. You couldn’t even hide the foolish smile on your face at the moment. 

This was going to be an interesting summer.

┍━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━┑

tags. @maydayaisha + @spiderpunkfien @bbytamaki @honeybleed @luvliv4lifexoxo @smileyy-cakee

┕━━━━━━━♡♡♡━━━━━━━┙

#choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #anime x reader #choso kamo x black reader #black reader #x black reader #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #jjk smut #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[whatwouldsylwrite]

hockey!Abby x dancer!reader pt2

Tags: modern au, fluff, fem!reader, shy reader, Abby is a sweetheart, switching pov

pt1

Notes: author doesn't know enough about hockey, so if you find any inaccuracies just ignore. This description of the hockey game based on my own experience.

In the next few weeks Abby learnt about the dance classes more than she'd ever care to learn. Even though the dance class had a "hockey guys" list, it actually didn't mean that you'll always dance some routines with perfect choreo and attitude for them.

However, if Abby thought she'll be cool and, um, appreciate the art of your dancing when she came from practice with Manny to your dance class, she wasn't prepared to watch you repeat the same sequence again and again and fucking again because your hand movements were not right.

(As if anyone would watch your hands instead of watching your…everything. Abby couldn't really pick a place to look: your ass spins were amazing, but when you arched your back lying on the floor? God bless. Or when you were strutting forward, swaying your hips from side to side? Or when-)

It was a sweet torture for her, watching you do the same move: it felt like hell and heaven combined.

So she stayed and watched and ignored Ellie, who caught up with what was happening. She would grin teasingly at her and make small talk with her (fucking small talk, can you believe?), but wouldn't actually introduce Abby to you.

Abby felt like Ellie did it on purpose, a petty revenge for making fun of her crush on Dina, but Abby was patient - she knew the chance would present itself.



You've noticed the new addition to the usual sofa audience, and you'd steal curious glances at the hockey girl, as you've got used to calling her in your head. She was always so serious, watching everyone, almost as she was your choreographer.

You'd feel yourself blush every time the hockey girl would look at you with her usual intense stare, and you couldn't muster up the courage to go and say hi to her, even though you'd banter with others. You were curious what she thought of your dancing, if she noticed any mistakes or if she thought something was lacking in your performance.

Something about the hockey girl made you flustered and shy, so you've stayed away for a while. Sometimes you'd stand just in the right angle so that you could look at her with a good excuse that she was plainly in your direction. You liked the aura she had around herself, all serious and powerful, like she wouldn't take any shit from anyone.

You've also noticed she was friends with Ellie, but you were too shy to ask Ellie anything about the hockey girl, let alone to ask her to introduce you to her.

This evening you were working on a new group choreo, which meant Ellie was being bossy and sometimes annoying, but it didn't really bother you - at least you all had someone to tell you what you did wrong.

"We need to do it again." Ellie said, irritated.

"Fuck no." Dina said where she was laying on the floor, her head in your lap.

"Tough shit, we don't live in a democracy." Ellie took her place in the formation and everyone stood up too. Ellie was right, you needed to practise.

After three attempts it got better, but you felt like Ellie would kill everyone if it wasn't perfect in a week. Thank god for Manny, who peeked into the dance class and all attention shifted to him.

"Ladies, we've decided it's time for you to watch us, as it's only fair. We have a game this Friday, come watch."

"Watch you getting slammed into the boards? Gladly." Dina laughed.

"And we're having a party after, you're all invited." Manny winked, and you got hopeful all of a sudden.

Maybe that would be a chance to talk to the hockey girl?

-/-/-/-

When Friday rolled around, Abby wanted to strangle Manny for his stupid mouth. She knew you'd be in the audience, and it made her irrationally nervous, like she needed to make you like her, just the way you made her like you with your dancing.

Good thing she was one of the best on ice and the Scars were not the strongest team they've played against. She would be fine. Of course she would, she was Abby fucking Anderson.

Abby put her helmet on and went to the ice for the warmup. She felt hyped, her nervousness turning into competitiveness - it made her shots sharper, her skates faster, their teamwork better. Manny was praising her, but she just scoffed at the ridiculous asshole and carried on with her stretching.  

In the middle of the warmup Abby skated to the boards to take a breath, and she noticed the dance crew taking their seats. 

Abby immediately got hyper aware of your presence, her eyes locked on you. You were dressed in thigh-high socks and a skirt. Abby was so used to you wearing crop tops and joggers she was absolutely not ready to see you in a fucking skirt; her heart started to beat twice as fast as she looked at you, as you sat next to Dina and Ellie, smiling and talking to them. Abby felt her stick falling out of her hands and she barely managed to catch it before it fell on the ice, breaking the spell you had on her. 

"Careful, Anderson." Eric said sternly. "We don't need this kind of stupid fuckups during the game."

Abby rolled her eyes and skated over to others, purposely avoiding your side of the arena and focusing on her warmup - she was afraid if she looked at you she'd lose all her composure and her head wouldn't be in the game. 

You've never been to a hockey game before, so as soon as you sat with Ellie and Dina (not separating them, you didn't have a death wish), you started looking around with childish curiosity. You’ve noticed players on the ice, probably warming up, and you immediately found the hockey girl in the crowd - even though they all were in the same uniform, you knew who the hockey girl was right away. 

She was so damn cool and so damn hot while she skated, and it was only a warmup. 

Dina showed you how to fold a clap banner and you clapped it against your palm - it was a fun noise and you laughed, doing it a few more times, delighted.

Then the seat next to you got taken.

“Hi, (y/n).”

You turned your head to the voice and smiled - it was Finn, and you shared one class together. He was always seeking out your company - god knows why - but he wasn’t a bad guy, so you were friendly with him. He clearly wanted to talk to you, but the noise signalled that the game had started and you turned all your attention to the rink.

The hockey girl was magnificent on ice, all confidence and cold aggression and determination. She refused to let anyone stand in her way, making her shots practically flying on her skates. You watched her, absolutely mesmerised by her skills on ice and how her team relied on her. Fuck she was incredible. When she scored, you screamed your lungs out, jumping in your seat in excitement. Ellie screamed too (fuck yeah, get them Anderson! Holy shit it was cool) and Dina was aggressively hitting her clap banner on her thigh.

The first period ended and you suddenly remembered how underdressed you were - you were so nervous picking your outfit that you completely forgot you were going to the ice rink, meaning the sleeveless shirt you had on didn't really keep you warm. You rubbed your arms and checked the time - the moment the second period starts, you’ll be too lost in the game to care for your comfort.

“Are you cold?” Finn asked. 

“Yeah.”

Finn took his jacket off and put it around you. 

“Thank you.” You smiled, truly thankful and not picking up any subtle intentions. Finn started talking to you about the game and the sports in general, and you chatted with him until the second period started.

Fucking asshole, Abby thought, getting filled with rage by milliseconds. She acted before she thought, boarding the idiot so hard he probably blacked out for a second - that’s what you get after trying to check her. Referee sent her to the benches and Eric shook his head at her, but all Abby wanted to do was to flip him. She didn’t do it, but the desire was strong.

Abby sat at the benches and took her helmet off, stretching her neck. She finally decided she’d be fine if she looked at you. You, sitting next to some guy with (probably) his jacket around your shoulders. The jealousy filled her - who the fuck was this guy? God, what if you were straight? That thought never crossed Abby’s mind. In her book you definitely had some fruity vibes, so maybe bi? Not the point, who this guy was to you? Was he your boyfriend or was he some of those guys who flirted with you? Abby noticed all these people hitting on you in university and making you uncomfortable - but you seemed pretty comfortable with him. A friend? Shit, she had to find out. 

Her five minutes on the bench ran out, Abby put her helmet on and went back in the game, taking her frustrations out on her rivals, leading her team to victory.

God she hoped she’d see you at the party tonight.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #hockey!abby