Universe Send Him My Way Please

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and yes you have to be black, this isn’t an all access typa club

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wanted to start a tag game using this website because reciptify is so cute

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hii guys i’ve been having major writers block and just a whole bunch of stuff going on irl but i wanna start writing for you guys more so please send in some requests or just some stuff you guys would want me to write more of!!🩷

guys I need an answer 💋🖤

I was born to be a teenage girl in the 50s sitting in my room wearing cutesy lacey night gowns, listening to all popular artists and sipping on a Coke float with my hair in curlers

thissss🙂‍↕️

im just a girl tho

this is what makes us girls 🦢

'𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬' . . . sodapop curtis

✦ disclaimers/warnings? ~ black!dancer!reader x sodapop, fluff, onshot/drabble?, the use of 'y/n', my only background knowledge on dancing is from dance moms sooo pls give me grace on the inaccuracy.

✦ word count: 1.2k words

𝐩𝐢𝐥é.

arabesque.

pirouette.

you were marking the solo you had been working on for months now in the wings of the stage. the butterflies in your stomach were starting to get worse, the thought of messing up at any point of this dance eating you alive. you had worked too hard to get to this point and make some silly mistakes. it was even harder being a person of color in the dance world—especially as a ballerina. so many people had doubts about you and your talent, but today was the day you'd prove them all wrong. that your skin color didn't make you any less capable, that you could dance just as well—if not better—than your competition. 'maybe if i dance well enough they'll finally see me for who i am and not who they think i am.' you thought to yourself.

as you ran through your dance once again, you could hear a couple of girls whispering in hushed tones about you.

"i can't believe they actually gave her a solo."

"i know, right? last time i saw her on stage, she fell out of her turns in the group dance."

"we don’t have to worry about her. she’s not much of our competition anyway."

god why are people so rude. before you could turn around and stand up for yourself, the announcer was heard over the speakers. "now for our last performance of the night, please welcome y/n, performing 'words through turns'—on stage!"

in that exact moment, it felt like your heart had just stopped. suddenly, your custom felt too tight. your shoes were tied weird. your makeup felt clumped on. but you knew it was now or never—you couldn't let this opportunity slip between your fingers like this.

with a quick shake-out, hoping to get rid of your nerves, you stepped forward and walked onto the stage, settling into your starting position. you quickly scan the crowd, hoping to land on a familiar face. your breath hitched as you locked eyes with a striking pair of blue ones—your blue eyes. sodapop curtis. your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend sitting in the audience, watching you. but he wasn’t alone. seated to his left were steve and two-bit. to his right sat darry, ponyboy, johnny, and—to your surprise—dally. with all the happiness in your heart at seeing them, you take a deep breath and try to regain focus. after a few moments, the music to your piece begins, and you start dancing.

pilé.

arabesque.

pirouette.

each move flows seamlessly together—just like how you had practiced in the wings moments ago. this routine meant everything to you. you had poured so much time and effort into it. and now on stage, you gave it everything you had—your built-up emotions seeping into each movement, making the performance even stronger.

as you moved elegantly across the stage, soda straightened in his seat, his eyes widening. he had seen you dance before—around his house, or when he'd stop by your studio to pick you up, catching glimpses of you finishing a routine. but he had never seen you dance full-out. not like this. he had always thought you were perfect, but on stage? you were more than that. you were like an angel without wings.

while soda continued to watch your every move, a sense of pride swelled in his chest. you had often talked to him about your struggles and shortcomings as a dancer, and while he couldn’t do much to help—other than simply be there for you and listen—he wished he could do more. but in this moment, watching you dance so flawlessly, he felt like everything was okay. seeing you perform so beautifully made him believe that maybe, just maybe, everything might just turn out alright. that you could overcome it all—even though, in reality, it would never be that easy.

with your routine coming to an end, you did one final turn before slowly settling into your ending pose. you were out of breath, your chest rising and falling violently from how much energy you had just poured into the performance. as you take your bow, the audience erupted in cheers and applause. locking eyes with soda once again, you saw him standing up, his eyes lit with pride as he clapped, wiping a mere tear from his cheek. the rest of the gang was cheering as well, with two-bit obnoxiously hooting.

you smile to the audience before walking off stage. joy bubbling inside of you.

rushing back to the dressing room, you grabbed your stuff and quickly changed before coming back out. after slipping on some baggy sweatpants on top of your leotard, you made your way towards the crowd, eager to see soda and the rest of the gang. you had to weave past people, squeezing through the bustling space.

then, finally—you spotted them.

and in their hands, every. single. one of them, had a bouquet of flowers, just for you.

dally held pink tulips. steve had carnations. darry carried lavenders. ponyboy clutched marigolds. johnny offered daisies. two-bit, of course, had lilies.

and last but not least—soda.

holding the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers—white roses.

you were on the verge of happy tears at the sight before you. without an ounce of hesitation, you ran up to soda, dropping your bag in the process, and wrapped your arms around him, giving him the biggest hug. soda was a bit startled, not having noticed your presence before. but once he realized it was you, a big smile spread across his face. he passed the white roses he was holding to darry before hugging you back, lifting you off the ground and spinning both of you around. "you did so good babygirl," he whispered into your ear. "thank you, soda," you murmured into his chest. you were overwhelmed with so many emotions at once, feeling like if you tried to say anymore, you'd burst into tears. soda finally set you down and gently pulled you away from his chest. one hand rested on your forearm while the other came up to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek to wipe away a tear that managed to escape. "i'm so proud of you." he murmured, his full attention on you, eyes locked with yours. "the proudest anyone can be. we all are." he motions to the rest of the guys.

"yeah! who knew you could turn like a gazillion times in a row like that?" two-bit exclaimed excitedly. you and the gang burst into laughter at his usual goofiness.

"seriously y/n, you looked amazing out there. i'm glad i was able to come and watch." darry said, patting your back before handing you the flowers in his hands.

one by one, each of the guys handed you the bouquet they had picked out for you. you had never felt so loved by a group of people before then. now, with seven bouquets of flowers in your arms, you clutch them tightly. "i really don't know what to say, guys," you started, "i appreciate every single one of you guys for coming here today to watch me. it honestly means the world. i can't even put into words how happy i feel right now." you beamed.

soda pulled you to his side, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i love you." he said softly.

"i love you too, soda." you replied with a smile.

all your life, you had never been good with words—let alone speaking about your emotions. dance had always been your escape, your way of expressing yourself.

you showed your words through turns.

✦ maeva's thoughts ~ uhmm this took way too long but I hope y'all enjoyed it!!