amazing continuity

A Dance with the Devil [x]

If there was something she could do, it would be to move her body like water. The waves of her dance could send a tide across shores, plunging those who witness her acts unto the depths of her trenches, and allowing themselves to be devastated by the beautiful tragedy that came with her presence.

The music belonged to her, and she belonged to music.

It was perfect. The way her toes twirled sent her whole body into a spiral, creating ripples that delivered men into an awed state, into some kind of trance that had their eyes be pinned on her.

I was no different.

It is no secret that I enjoy a little entertainment, one that involves theatrics, for the most part. There is always something about body language that continues to amaze me. The body never lies*. It betrays humanity’s freewill, acting on its own natural whims as it shakes people to their core, to have our faces burn in heat the more we try to suppress it.

But hers was flawless, her movement disciplined with an impeccable display of control, that even in the face of flattery or exhaustion, she remained unreadable; a blank slate that had me puzzled, a mystery I felt the burning need to discover.

“I wish to speak to the dancer.”

“But she is —“

Brushing the propsman aside, I made my way across the narrow makeshift backstage they had. It was hardly a long way, but the rows of cloth and the number of performers coming in from the other side made it a chore to do so.

“Seven Hells…” I grumbled, shaking my foot to be rid of a coiling lasso around my ankle. A pathetic twist had me limping, causing me to crash against a column of wooden planks lined up for who-knows-why. The noise was enough to have people come to my aid, but the frown painted on my expression sent them scurrying like preys in the midst of a predator.

Brushing myself in an attempt to straighten my clothes, I saw her the moment I turned.

She had her back exposed to me, but our eyes met through the mirror in front of her.

Frankly, I had trouble where to pin my sights next – upon the reflection of her face, or the slender curves of her backside. I mentally shamed, slightly shamed, how both eyes are allowed to focus only on one thing at a time within one’s field of vision. One sees everything, and yet can only study a single tree out of an entire forest.

But the face has numerous tales to tell, and hers told me to look at how her hair dangled from her neck, and how her skin smiled as she moved her shoulder blades. Seated, she swayed her hips slowly, right and left, and her spine waved, as if to tease me as she let the rest of her mane fall like a curtain, sealing the final acts of a play I have yet to thoroughly enjoy.

Cruelly fascinating.

Achingly tempting.

“What brings you here, Lord Nobunaga?” She asked, smiling at me from her view in the mirror.

I had never been so taken by a sole performance on stage, not one that had me seeking out a woman like this. And yet, despite the resistance, to put what I thought was only a show set up out of the sheer boredom that I wanted to dispel, I have found a pearl I was never looking for in the first place.

It was oddly satisfying, serendipity, they call it, that my lips refused to hide the amusement a moment longer, and soon turned it into a smirk glowing with enchantment that I finally said,

“We shall dance.”


*I read this idea by Milan Kundera from his novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which is, as you know, my favorite ever hehe.

anonymous asked:

u kno what's amazing? Ot4's continuous support and genuine love for each other like I guarantee if you talk to one member of ot4 about their other three band mates their heart will swell with joy and love and pride and their face will light up??? Like ot4 love each other endlessly???

OT4!!!!! LOVE EACH OTHER!!!!! ENDLESSLY!!!!!!

magnus burnsides always likes throwing into conversations his completely random talents, and after like the 50th time this happens on the starblastin, they finally force him to demonstrate each talent to prove that he’s not just some liar, and sure enough, magnus is proficient in limbo 

5

Another absolutely AMAZING #fanartfriday!!! I am continuously impressed with all your skills!! Thank you for all of these incredible pieces of art!!! Check out all the art and artists on my Insta! (thomassanders)

2

We are like the blood in our veins. We must flow without stopping.
Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working.

Happy birthday, Carol! ♡ @nimmura

im sorry but falsettos has such amazing representation and continues to affect and inspire young children and teenagers everywhere and encourages them to be who they are. people are literally crying because falsettos didn’t win because the show meant so much to them as young members of the LGBT community, and let them know that they are accepted and that no matter their flaws they will be loved. hello dolly may “”“cute”“” but falsettos is much more personal to many people and it should have won best revival

8

It’s been two years since we’ve been together. Two years full of music, smiles and some tears, years where we have grown up together and experienced many things. It’s been two years… it’s just the beginning let’s continue like this with humble hearts and amazing music. Let’s continue together my precious 7 angels.#5시_14분_함께

A Lesson in Love (Confessions)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,178

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. Also, this is not the end of story.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - The messages you sent me after editing this part let me know that I had successfully tugged on all of the right heartstrings, so thank you for that.

Originally posted by ditchthevillian

Whenever an uncomplicated task arises, people say it’s as easy to accomplish as breathing. The adage always made perfect sense to you whenever you heard it. Breathing is second nature. It can be done without having to think twice and, sometimes, it feels like certain tasks are the same way.

Today, that’s not the case. Standing here across from Bucky for the first time in weeks, you find that breathing is anything but easy. The air was knocked out of your lungs as soon as you stumbled upon the note he wrote on the canvas and you haven’t yet recovered. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, just breathe. But it’s hard. How are you supposed to remember to inhale and exhale in a moment like this?

“Are you going to say something?” You press, once the silence of the room becomes too unbearable. Your fingers curl tightly around the canvas as you wait for Bucky to speak. “Anything?”

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cinderdrilla  asked:

hit me up w/ some voltron goodness 8)

Lance puts his foot down, and Shiro/Slav have a long overdue talk.

Shiro never figured Lance for the snapping type. They all had their moments, under the constant stress of intergalactic rebellion, but Lance kept a reasonably calm lid on it – his self-titled “rivalry” with Keith aside. Looking at him now, there is only surprise at the way he’s holding himself, the set of his expression: Lance looks both nervous and pissed off.

‘Keith – could you give us a minute?’ he says, in a deliberately calm voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Keith hesitate, as if reading the tenseness of the situation and worrying that it might get out of hand. ‘Now, Keith. Go check on Slav’s sector.’

Reluctantly, and with a suspicious look at them both, Keith exits. Lance looks even more nervous when he does. More so when silence settles on them, and he raises a brow at Lance. Well? says the look, say what you have to.

‘I just… you’re way too hard on him,’ Lance repeats, a far cry from the irritated way he’d snapped Can’t you just cut Slav some slack? ‘He’s trying to help, Shiro. I-it’s not… he doesn’t mean to annoy you. It’s just how he… is.’

‘Excuse me?’ His previous calm turns to surprise. He keeps his voice low, not meaning to menace – but Lance scowls a little deeper, mistaking it for nonchalance.
Don’t, Shiro. You sound just like Iverson when you do that, a-and he was an ass,’ Lance says, voice rising only in pitch. Angry and nervous, like a cornered cat. Shiro takes a small step back to give him breathing room, but Lance stays tense. ‘Slav only wants to help. You treating him like a nuisance isn’t – it’s not fair, okay. He can’t help being jumpy; he was a prisoner for ages –’

It takes a second or two for that to sink in. When Shiro goes quiet, when his stare goes vacant as he processes this, Lance steps forward, speech picking up momentum as he grew more defensive.

‘– and it’s not easy to adapt out here,’ there’s a note of hurt in his voice, and it hits Shiro more than the chastising. ‘Slav got taken from his people and thrown into a war just like we did. He’s handling it different. YOU handled it different, we all did. I thought you’d understand him because of it, since you both got tortured by the Galra.’

That’s almost an accusation, and now Shiro fully understands what has Lance so fired up, so recalcitrant. And that understanding brings with it a sense of guilt, especially with the way Lance had said I THOUGHT you’d understand.

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If Sana and Yousef end up talking on Friday (definitely hapening, one way or another) and Cengiz’s famous “hardest scene” is in fact a goodbye scene where they exchange a beautiful and lovely I like you but also a heartbreaking we can’t be together I’m deleting myself from this planet.