His words make you pause and your breath catches in your throat. Can you? Can you accept that his lips will only ever graze your cheek and his kisses won’t trace the curve of your spine and you won’t get to see if he tastes like that strawberry-flavoured chewing gum he always has in his pocket? Can you keep your mouth shut when she buys him a shirt that’s the colour of the setting sun but you know his favourite colour is the shade of blue the sea is when it’s calm? Can you live with the fact that he will call you when she breaks his heart but you will never have the power to mend it? Can you listen to him talking about his wildest dreams for the future and know that you only play a sideline to his crazy wishes? Can you watch him live a life you dreamed having with him with someone else by his side? Really, honestly, can you?
But love, even unrequited, is irrational and even as your head and heart are screaming no your lips are forming the words which may sentence you to a kind of torture worse than death.
“Of course we can.”
And I’ll just close my eyes whenever I see your gaze linger on someone else, 16/07/2015 #13
A sigh escaped the small man as he took his latte. Usually he’d get one of the limited edition shakes they sold this time of year, but it appeared they were sold out. Just his luck, he supposed. Rather bothersome, though. In attempts to lift his spirits, he began humming rhythms from practice. This stopped, however, when he bumped into the other.
some sketches i colored ??? who doesnt need to see more sora / riku / kairi hugs am i right?? also i dream and wish every day that riku had never gotten the horrible dream drop distance haircut and had instead opted for a bun or something
My feet have been killing me lately and all I want to do is sit on Johnny's lap (I don't care if it's in his wheelchair or on slow dancer).
He’d complain a bit about you making it difficult to navigate his wheelchair but he’s blushing from the close proximity. On Slow Dancer you’d have to hold on to his waist and if he was a little red before he’s a tomato now, cheeks bright red
A sigh escaped the small boy and he set down his pencil. Writing lyrics always escaped him and if the beat didn’t fit his mood, he was all but useless at that point in time. Slender fingers ran through raven black locks and he leaned his forehead against the table. A week. That’s what he had to finish this. Would he even be able to in time?
Deux danseuses is a superbly executed example of one of Edgar
Degas’ favourite subjects: the backstage world of the ballet which
existed beyond the public gaze. Degas preferred these behind-the scenes
depictions of the ballet to the glamourous crowd and theatre. He portrays two ballerinas in the wings, resting and self-absorbed
before making their graceful entrance. Degas brings the viewer close to the dancers by
cropping the composition at ankle height, creating an exhilarating sense
of proximity to the figures.
A sigh escaped the small boy as he made his way through the diner and to his seat. Slender fingers leafed through the menu. A day to himself before practice picked up again. A day to relax. Mismatched eyes looked up at the sound of footsteps and he tensed for a moment thinking it might be a fan.
About two months have passed since aurora was left to live and learn with nasus. He was more than happy with her progress as they can hold basic conversations well, and more advanced ones they started have been going good. It was before dawn, Nasus was up at his desk wearing just his shendyt as he wrote in his journal. He looked over to the bed occasionally at Aurora. He has grown quite fond of her, his days being made much more happy and content with her presence.
Kids, especially girls, in the 12-14 age range drift apart all. the. time. And sometimes you never know the reason. I will probably never know the reason my best friend from middle school and I stopped hanging out, and even though I missed her for awhile it’s not going to go down as one of the great tragedies of our time. So stop over-analyzing Maddie and Chloe’s friendship dying off and acting like it’s the saddest thing in the world. Lots of kids are just close with their fellow dancers by default because they’re around them all the time, and when they quit they just drift apart. There’s not likely to be anyone’s “fault” behind it, and talking about it/over-analyzing it online isn’t going to help.
Things I learned/realized at my very first nationals
1. It’s not dancing on the tippy tips of your toes that looks so beautiful, it’s about lines. It’s about making a smooth, uninterrupted line from your toes through your legs. While, yes, you need to be on your toes as high as comfortable, I saw a lot of dancers achieve the same affect without always being on pointe. Which was cool.
2. If 2 dancers have close to equal technique, the better performer always wins. Having good technique is only half the battle. You gotta sell it.
3. Sometimes you dance first. Sometimes you dance with the world champion. Sometimes you fall on stage. You just shouldn’t act like any of that affects you.
4. Everybody around you are real people too. They have nerves. They have doubts. It’s okay to be real backstage. (Shoutout to the girls backstage with me if any of you have tumblr, I was honestly terrified the whole time but y'all were so kind and nice and it helped a lot.)
Yeah. It was a cool experience. And, I can’t wait for Oireachtas.
Do Heroes Need to Have “Manly” Careers in Romance Novels?
weeks ago I was chatting with another editor, whom I greatly respect,
about what’s expected of heroes to meet romance trends and get
Regarding an author’s manuscript, she thought it weird for
the hero to be a dancer. That it didn’t quite fit with being a
manly/attractive enough career.
I didn’t read the manuscript. Maybe she was right for that particular story. But the other part of me wondered, why can’t he be a dancer?
Although not a novel, but a romantic story nonetheless, I have two words:
The moment Patrick Swayze does his first hip thrust, I want to die a good death.
And have you ever seen a male ballet dancer up close? All that muscled grace…holy hell.
Or a Broadway star giving it his all? See Hugh Jackman on the Internet.
and performers are talented athletes. They
practice, they sweat, they push themselves to incredible physical limits
that would make me cry and give up after all the chest wheezing. The wheezing that
makes me think this is it, this is how it ends.
Bottom line: I’d celebrate a dancing hero in a romance novel.
of this got me thinking about what we expect from heroes. We love the
high-powered bossman in a slim suit. We love the rugged rancher with
calloused hands. We love the undercover operative who leads a
mission. We love the prince who commands an army but secretly wishes
for a normal life.
High-powered…rugged…leads…commanding. I’m noticing a theme here. These traits are used often for our beloved heroes.
Maybe we’re giving the people what they want.
But are we being unfair to heroes?
real life, I’ve known men who cry, who feel unsure or shy, who don’t like to
lead at all, who get lost in trying to find the right
career. And who become hairdressers, assistants, waiters, and fashion
designers, whether it’s temporary or they feel passionate doing what
they do. These guys are all man.
Yet more often than not, it’s usually side characters and heroines who seem to fill these roles in novels.
Sometimes we create these stereotypes for ourselves, when we don’t have to.
you write the best hero you can, motivated, sympathetic, and believable
(even with traits like commanding or shy) then it shouldn’t matter if
he has a “less manly” career—whatever that actually is.
say all the time that heroines can do or be anything, from CEO to
airplane pilot. That means heroes can do or be anything too. Even be a
There was a grand celebration at the castle of the regal Bonnefoy family. Their son, Prince Asmodeus, had become of age to rule when his father passed on. Gifts from other kingdoms were rushed to the prince, gifts of gold, jewels, and magical objects of goodwill. One kingdom was sending their ambassador with someone quite different, an entertainer. The entertainer was blond, with his feline ears and tail matching his hair. He was adorned with gold silk and jewels of Opalite. As they approached the castle, the young male’s red eyes shimmered with worry.