#DansAR

[actualhumanyes]

YOOOOO VILKEN BANGER ASSÅ 🦅🔥🇺🇸🔥🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[grapehyasynth]

thinking about the hillerska "on the table" tradition, thinking about the swedish idiom 'när katten är borta, dansar råttorna på bordet' (literally when the cat is away, the rats dance on the table) - imagine if erik didn't die, and august didn't stay at hillerska over parents' weekend, and simon and wille got their weekend together. it seems unlikely the hillerska kitchens would still be cooking, though wille's a prince, so who knows. regardless, imagine wille and simon take one of their meals in the forest ridge dining room, either with food cooked by the hillerska kitchen staff or some takeout from bjärstad. at some point during the meal they start talking about the twisted "on the table" tradition, and wille gets a determined little smile on his face and pushes his plate aside. he climbs onto his chair, then onto the table. simon laughs biut glances around, waiting for someone to yell at him, but no one does; it's just them. wille extends a hand to help simon up. they put on music on their phones and dance up and down the length of the table, uncoordinated and aimless, sometimes meeting in the middle and twirling each other around. at surface level it's their own private version of declaring "we just had sex!", which they wouldn't want to share with their peers, which they're not even sure would be welcomed as a pronouncement. but it's also a defiance of what this table has been, a defiance of the rules and fear they're otherwise living under, turning it into a place of celebration and joy instead of pressure. they dance, and kiss, and end up finishing their meal sitting cross-legged on the table.

[xlownenbemy]

Spela du Näcken! Ljuvligare musik har man aldrig hört och alla som lyssnar på dig kommer dansa och leka.

Uti forsen sitter du där med din harpa och lockar de dansare till dig med din musik. För evigt kommer de dansa nere i forsen för dig, men nu som ben och skallar!

Spela du Näcken! För Ljuvligare musik har man aldrig hört!

[spicysidesalad]

Skuggorna dansar igen

Efter elden blommat ut

Med pollen i luften

Ska vi nog slå ut igen

Jag vill tro på kärleken

Låt det aldrig ta slut

[vanitas-no-carter-fanfics]

fem singer reader, singing for vanitas to make him fall asleep while he rests on readers lap!

I love writing song related fics so I am more than happy to do this!

-J --------------- ---------------

(Name) had noticed for some time how tired Vanitas was looking. Clearly he was struggling with sleep and it bothered her greatly that someone she had grown fondly for was suffering. The night was cold and a fog had swept the town with its tick fog and mist. (Name) had Vanitas at her home where he rested on the couch. He laid in her lap as her hands played with his hair. Her fireplace giving warmth as the wood crackled in the background. (Name) could see that Vanitas was trying to fight the fatigue but softly without being prompted she started to hum softly. It was an old song from her homeland and her people. The Spirit Song a song past for generations in an old tongue that was both magical and comforting haunting. the wind of the outside provided a magical sound as her wind chimes moved with a beautiful melodic sound as she transitioned to her native tongue of and old forgotten language.

Vanitas felt his body relax. Her melody lulling him in a comforting slumber. The warmth of the fire, her fingers playing with his hair as her siren spell seemed to take effect. His eyes heavy lidded as he saw the mist and fog outside her window rolling in. If the spirit of the mist could sing a lullaby, how would it sound like? Was this is? Wondering through passed him. It was magical. In truth this lullaby had the intention to give the listener a little glimpse into that mystical realm of the mist, which naturally felt like a bridge between their world and other dimensions.

The mist has always been an inspiration for (Name)'s people who were long forgotten. As the modern world grew further away from nature when these magnificent forces were being to be disappeared.

As she sang images flashed in Vanitas mind; the mist is dancing over the forest lakes in the bright nights, it feel like he was getting to see and experience something that is almost not real in their physical world. It was almost pulling him into something else. Like a calling, a demand to be still and listen, to connect to something deeper within. The lullaby held a touch of the ancient folk tunes long forgotten, a melioidotic sound that was both sad and hopeful. Something about the sound of her voice had him very drawn to it that forced his heavy eyes close. The sorrow, the joy, the light and the dark, the heaviness of being a human, the beauty of being alive. The physical world and the spirit world was merging and it gave him a peaceful comfort.

Her song was about the mist calling in a friend to kind them home. A reminder of how the mist will eventually roll over and the stars home will guide you back. No matter how scared you may be the trees of the forest will comfort you with warmth of the harsh winds and when the northern light begin to dance in the sky over the trees and landscape to celebrate your return home. No matter the obstacle, trust in nature and it will guide you to where you need to be.

As her song ended she saw Vanitas sleeping soundly in her lap. she smiled softly as she listened to his soft breath mixing with the sound of the fire, the win and chimes.

Så lilla vän (Sweet friend) Dimman för dig hem igen (The mist will carry you home again) Om du går vilse (If you get lost)

Natten är lång (The night is long) Tusen stjärnors urtidssång (The ancient song of a thousand stars) Dimmorna dansar (The mist is dancing)

Sov lilla vän (Sleep little friend) Skogen vaktar, värmer dig (The forest guards you, and keep you warm) Om du är frusen (If you are cold)

Norrskensljus (Northern lights) Dansar över skog och fjäll (Dancing over the forest and mountains) Brinner i natten (Burning in the night)

Så lilla vän (Sweet friend) Dimman för dig hem igen (The mist will carry you home again) Om du går vilse (If you get lost)

[darkbluekies]

imagine a non swed coming to Sweden and seeing this

Or this

Like I would be terrified too if I saw this is a new country

så mysigt ju <3 se så fint de dansar, påminner mig om den där "vi varo musikanter någonting-någonting" jag har glömt texten

but yeah i would probably be quite terrified too lmao, when you think about it. It LOOKS worse than it is. BUT ITS SO COZY, although if i say so myself, real midsommar celebrations look a bit more ... silly.

[dorianwolfforest]

Varför är m och ms backup dansare the chosen från smosh

[sim3on]

Han dansar som de slåss i avatar the last Airbender

[goldcleaver]

we as a society måste börja kräva att artisterna själva dansar igen och inte bara förlitar sig på ljus och bakgrundsdansare

[super-antelope]

A-TEENS BABYYYY, mitt barndomsjag dansar i vardagsrummet av glädje och nostalgi

[strangerdeer]

NU JÄVLAR ÄR DET GUNILLA OCH HON HAR COWBOYS SOM DANSARE

[svenskjavel]

Ärligt talat så är låten rätt bra och manliga dansare med kjol är en svag punkt för mig

[grapehyasynth]

Crown Prince Wilhelm is in New York City on official business, and it's been a long exhausting week, and he wants a drink in a place that will make him feel normal. Not in his ostentatious hotel room, not in the hotel bar where staff will fawn over him, not at one of the high-end places that his mother's contacts in the city would take him to. It's easier to move anonymously through foreign cities than it would be back home, but he wants a taste of the real thing.

He dresses down - no suits tonight - and wanders until something catches his eye. Despite his bodyguards' slight frowns, he ducks into a tiny dive bar down a side street. It's dark inside, all shadows and moody red lighting. The floor is clean but cracked, and none of the furniture matches. It's perfect.

People glance up as he comes in, but aside from a few appraising looks, no one makes a thing of it.

It's only when he's already placed his order - for a cheap beer that he's never heard of and that he's hoping is as shitty as it sounds - that he looks at some of the signage hanging behind the bar and glances around at the clientele and realizes - this is a gay bar.

He freezes with his hand in the bowl of complimentary pretzels. His first instinct is to leave before the bartender comes back. It's been ten years since Erik died, ten years since a 16-year-old Wille had had to stuff all his burgeoning self-understanding back inside his princely exterior. For all intents and purposes, Crown Prince Wilhelm is straight.

He turns to go when someone at his elbow says, "När katten är borta dansar råttorna på bordet."

He doesn't know what the odds are of meeting another Swede in a small bar on another continent. He probably needs to find a printer so he can make this person - this, fuck, very pretty person with earnest dark eyes and tumbling brown curls and a mouth set somewhere between a pout and a smile - sign an NDA. Where the fuck does he find a printer at 11 at night?

Before he can panic much further, the person says, "Hey. It's okay. You're not doing anything wrong."

All Wille's training nearly crumbles away. He feels sixteen again, or maybe younger. His chin quivers, and he's saved only by the arrival of the bartender with his beer.

They talk for hours. Simon Eriksson is from a small town that Wille actually knows, had in fact driven through, years ago, when his brother was still in school near there. Simon doesn't drink but he likes the community at this unpretentious bar. He'd come once to hang up flyers for an event at the LGBTQ center he works at, and he sort of never left. They have a honkytonk piano that doesn't sound half bad when he plays it. Wille meets some of the regulars, all Simon's friends, but mostly they just...talk.

They also dance, swaying slowly, Simon's head on Wille's shoulder, when the bar is starting to empty and the music is getting gentler. Wille's dreams will be painted in red light for weeks.

They don't kiss, though Wille wants to, badly. He thinks Simon wants it too, from the way he tilts forward a little after they've hugged goodbye. He'll wait for Simon to text him at his private number, which Wille has given him - maybe rashly, as they've only known each other for a night. It doesn't make sense, to fall for someone who lives so far away. None of this makes sense. But it's the most right Wille has felt for years.

[samhalletsuger]

Jag känner gamla dansare och de sa när de såg Kianas nummer att de ville ha såna ljuspinnar när de turnerade runt, de hade en uttänkt koreografi i huvudet som inte var genomförbart för det existerade inte såna ljuspinnar på den tiden! (asså typ 90-tal)

Dreams do come true, i alla fall dansares.

[sistermp3]

alla som inte dansar är våldtäktsmän!

[icelandic-slenderwoman]

Anddddddd how would you be able to dance with a shorter partner? (you are very tall)

jæja, það eru margir dansar sem það er ekki nauðsynlegt að snerta dansfélaga þinn, auk nokkurra þar sem þú lyftir dansfélaga þínum upp í loftið.

[well, there are many dances of which it isnt necessary to touch your dance partner, as well as several where you lift your dance partner into the air.]