Hey! This isn't really a prompt,,, but anyways. My thought was that the other Sanders Sides (one of them or all three) would find the other one (which ever you want) doing something that is really super out of character for them (the character might be embarrassed that they like/do this thing?) and the others either [angst option] react really badly, making the one doing the thing even more sad/embarrassed, or [fluff option] they react by helping the one doing the action feel like it isn't (1)
A big deal, and that they shouldn’t be ashamed of it. (Maybe the others admit to doing activities that are out of character for them?) I hope this makes any sense at all lol. 💗 ~Rose Anon
So I decided to do both options because I couldn’t decide. Also in case you can’t tell by the end of this, yes, I’m an Irish dancer. I love to dance whenever I’m feeling anxious or stressed, it just calms me straight down. Anyway, I hope you like the way I answered this.
Thomas had decided to do another Q and A video with the sides. Anxiety had been enjoying himself. He actually liked the Q and A’s and it helped that no one was asking about kissing this time. Then Thomas had asked a question directed towards all of them, asking if the sides had any hobbies the viewers didn’t already know about.
Logic had talked about how in addition to his poetry and love of mystery novels, he also enjoyed star gazing. Morality had enthusiastically talked about his love of all things DIY. And Prince had admitted he loved designing and making clothes. Then they had turned to Anxiety.
“So what about you, Sneering Beauty?” Prince asked. “Any hobbies besides brooding in the shadows.”
“Why should I do anything else,” Anxiety shot back, ready to just move on to the next question.
“Awww, come on Anxiety.” Morality interjected. “There has to be something. Everyone needs a hobby.”
Anxiety hesitated. Should he tell them?
“This is a waste of time,” Prince said dismissively. “He clearly doesn’t, Morality.”
Anxiety’s eyes narrowed. That was it.
“Actually,” he snapped. “I dance. Irish dance, to be specific.”
There was a pause. Then Prince burst out laughing.
“You? Dance?” he wheezed. “Oh, that’s a image. Nice one, Anxiety. I didn’t know you had an imagination.”
Anxiety’s stomach clenched. Fuck. He should have just kept his stupid mouth shut. There was a reason he’d never told the others. But he’d let Prince bait him, and now look what had happened.
“I’m sorry, but what is Irish Dance exactly?” Morality said in, trying to speak over the sound of Prince’s laughter.
“It’s a form of traditional dance from Ireland,” Logic explained. As Morality still looked confused, he continued, “Think Riverdance, for example.”
“Oh,” Morality blinked. “Well that’s … different.”
Anxiety was done. He wasn’t going to stay here and hear another incredulous reaction. He didn’t need this. Better to get out now and hope that they’d all have forgotten about this the next time he saw them.
He popped back into his room. He could feel himself shaking a little, so he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself down. But it wasn’t working. He was too upset. Angry at himself for saying anything. Angry at Prince for laughing. Humiliated that the others now knew.
Fuck it, he was going to dance. This was one of the reasons he had fallen in love with the sport. Whenever he danced he could pour out all of his feelings, let it all go. That’s why he loved hard shoes best. As he slammed his feet into the floor, being as loud as he could, it felt like he was on top of the world, and none of his fears could touch him. He loved soft shoe as well, but there was something special about hard shoe.
He slipped his on now, tying the laces, and pulling the buckles tight. He’d managed to fix up a small dance studio off from his room a while back. It had taken a little bit of time to adjust the mindscape before he had it just right, but he’d gotten it eventually. He’d also managed to make it soundproofed, not that he’d really needed to. His room was far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t hear him anyway.
His hard shoes on, he went to turn on the music. Most of the time, he practiced to the traditional music, going over his routines. But sometimes, especially when he was upset, he’d throw on his angrier, more modern music and just dance. No choreography, just whatever came to mind.
Today he went for a mix of the two, turning on The Devil’s Dance Floor by the Dropkick Murphys. It was an Celtic punk band, which meant it had an Irish sound, but it was angry enough to fit his mood.
As the opening notes sound,d he prepared himself point his right toe and counting off the beats. As the singing began, Anxiety danced.
A bang and treble, step back and step click down. Treble, treble and treble hop back. Bang and bang again, he had to pound out the anger. Forget what had happened
He danced harder and faster, his heart racing as the song went on. Before the song had reached its halfway point, he was already panting. But he kept going, his eyes now closed focused only on his feet and the beat of the song.
When it had finally finished, the last of the music fading out, he collapsed, sinking to his knees, gasping for air. But before he could drag himself over to the corner where he kept water bottles, there was already one there being stretched out in front of him.
Blinking in confusion, he followed the arm holding it up to see Morality, who was smiling down gently at him.
“That was really good, kiddo,” he said. “I can’t say I know anything about dance, but it was really fun to watch.”
Unsure of what was happening, Anxiety didn’t reach for the water. “How-how long were you watching?” he croaked.
“Take the water,” Morality coaxed him, pushing the bottle into Anxiety’s hand. “You looked like you were working hard.”
Once Anxiety had taken a few sips, Morality continued. “I think I came in about halfway through. Sorry for coming in without permission. I did knock first, but you didn’t respond, and well, I was worried so I came in anyway. Although I can guess why you didn’t hear me.”
Anxiety’s brow furrowed. “You were… worried about me? Why?”
Morality lowered himself down to sit beside Anxiety. “Well you did run out of there pretty quickly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“You mean after I humiliated myself,” Anxiety muttered bitterly, unable to help himself. “Yeah, I’m just fine.”
“Hey,” Morality’s arm settled on his shoulder. “You didn’t humiliate yourself at all.”
“Tell that the Prince” Anxiety replied, taking another sip of water.
Morality frowned. “Don’t worry I plan to have a talk with Prince later,” he said. “That wasn’t very nice of him earlier.”
Anxiety looked down at the water bottle. “You know, Prince may have laughed” he said carefully, “but you, um, you seemed pretty surprised too.”
He then felt arms wrap around him, as Morality pulled him close. “Oh, no, kiddo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I was surprised, but it was a good surprised. I’d never heard of Irish dance before, so I was just surprised that it was your hobby. But I think it’s great I really do. And now that I’ve seen it, I can say it fits you.”
“Really?” Anxiety asked skeptically, “you don’t think it’s weird? Ot that I don’t seem like the kind of person who would dance at all?”
“It is unusual,” Morality said honestly, “but that’s why it fits you. An unique sport for a unique person. And the sound fits you too, loud and emotional.”
Anxiety smiled slightly. “It’s not always loud,” he said. “These are hard shoes. But in soft shoe, it’s quiet, more focused on grace.”
“I’d love to see that some day,” Morality said. “You’re a great dancer, and for the record, I don’t there’s people who do or don’t seem like dancers. All I know is that I loved watching you dance, and you seem like you really love to dance and that’s all that matters.”
Anxiety ducked his head down. “Thanks,” he said. “And maybe I can dance again for you sometime.”
“I’d love that, kiddo, I really would”
“I’m not dancing for Prince though”
“Yeah, that’s fair.“