#dance inspo

[sweetfridays]

♡ TATE MCRAE revolving door music video

[theotherjarcollector]

winter dance recital progress pt.1

hiya!! this is a series where i shove my dance recital progress in ur face weekly. i do lyrical and contemporary (i teach hip hop/tumbling and ballet/tap to small children) and i've been dancing for 12 years!!

the song

the super blurry video

[hodinodi]

go white girl go‼️

[maedictus]

Tinúviel was dancing there to music of a pipe unseen. And light of stars was in her hair and in her raiment, glimmering.

[neroticbf]

Darling Dance rentry graphics!

Renders by: @penissekai ! F2U with credits! Reblogs and likes are all appreciated!

[twilight-good-yall-dumb]

the old barbie movie soundtracks genuinely do not get enough acclaim. Arnie Roth is a fucking genius and we don't talk about it nearly enough for my liking.

[soulsilvers]

its the iconic super mario br-

[buildoblivion]

🟩⬛️ queens ⬛️🟩

[inafieldofdaisies]

[inkstainedkateyyy-14]

* laughs maniacally *

[michinarty]

Mikusona dancing to "Mãos para cima!" by Mellowcle because I have a very strong addiction to this song

[sweetfridays]

♡ isabelle mathers via instagram ( isabellemathersx )

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Dance Lessons for Writers

Zadie Smith:

The connection between writing and dancing has been much on my mind recently: it’s a channel I want to keep open.

What can an art of words take from the art that needs none?

Yet I often think I’ve learned as much from watching dancers as I have from reading.

Dance lessons for writers: lessons of position, attitude, rhythm and style, some of them obvious, some indirect.

Nobody hopes or expects to dance like Astaire, just as nobody really expects to write like Nabokov.

Writing, like dancing, is one of the arts available to people who have nothing. “For ten and sixpence,” advises Virginia Woolf, “one can buy paper enough to write all the plays of Shakespeare.” The only absolutely necessary equipment in dance is your own body.

The art of not dancing — a vital lesson. Sometimes it is very important to be awkward, inelegant, jerking, to be neither poetic nor prosaic, to be positively bad. To express other possibilities for bodies, alternative values, to stop making sense.

At the end of this seam of logic lies a liberating thought: maybe nobody truly owns anything.

[lavendergalactic]

☆ 　grace x ari rentry graphics!

day 2 of my event! | PSD by @otoripink " a canon queer relationship " f2u w/ credit, reblog appreciated!

grace and ari from the just dance map "vampire!" i'm not 100% sure grace is a lesbian because of her thank u next map where her exes are men but i believe they're comphet

anyway you have no idea how happy i am that the first confirmed queer couple of just dance are sapphic omg i cried while watching this map for the first time LMAO

[littleplantfreak]

'When', not 'if'

("I'm not a romantic" I cry and scream before dropping the most sickening thing i've written to date. Blame @stunie because i did tell her i would write the most ume thing ever and maybe this is it. The title in my docs for it is 'Fucking disgusting' but i figured i better not title it that here because I'd be seeing it in my notifs lmaoo)

SFW/no cw unless you hate fluff

When you wake up from your nap, one of your slippers is gone, and there's a blanket on you that wasn't there prior. Looking at the clock, it's been about an hour since everyone had left your apartment once your birthday party ended. The day as a whole had been chaotic, your boyfriend shoving you out the door with a note to go see Kotoha.

The note took you farther than that, though, as it seemed Umemiya created a whole scavenger hunt for your birthday that had you running into all of your friends, having dessert at your favorite cafe, and eventually ending up at your shared apartment to find that all that time spent around town was a distraction so that he could set up the space for your party. After it had ended, you were banished to the couch because princesses aren't allowed to help clean up their own birthday parties, which had you huffing and falling face down into the chicken shaped pillow affectionately called Mr.Clucky.

It was a product of your boyfriend's endless cycle of hobbies when he took up sewing. A little lopsided and overfilled with stuffing, you complained to and into Mr.Clucky with your face pressed into him. Apparently, he was soft enough to fall asleep on because before you knew it, you had been drooling on him the entire hour. Prying yourself off the couch took more effort than was almost worth it before your eyes fell on the reason you were so tired to begin with.

Hajime smiles and hums looking at your bleary eyes. "Good morning sunshine, I was just about to take you to bed," he says, folding a dish towel over a chair. You toss off the blanket and grab on the slipper that fell under the living room table before padding up to him. Dipping your hands under both of his arms to lock them together behind him, now your face is in his chest instead of the chicken, which is entirely preferred.

"Don't wanna go to bed just yet," you muffle, sinking even deeper into him when both of his arms wrap around you in support. He smells like dish soap and birthday cake, and you turn your head to hear the heartbeat in his chest.

"What do you wanna do lovey? You know I'd give you the world if you asked," you can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest with your pressed ear. He's cheesy, but half asleep, you feel just as much, if not cheesier.

"I have the world if I have you, they're one in the same. So just you is more than fine." Your eyes are closed, but you feel him shiver a little. "I wanna dance with you, though," you say, voice still soft and kinda raspy from sleep.

"Dunno if I can top what you just said even when I propose," he chokes out a laugh, or at least you think it's one. He shifts his hold a bit and starts leading you both in a lazy sway that starts near the toaster and ends next to the potted plant at the back door before starting over.

"When? Not if?" You tease him, a hand going to scratch the nape of his neck lightly.

"I'll never meet another you, so I'm pretty set on When."

"I'll say yes." Because you will. You can't imagine a life where you wouldn't.

"And I'll still cry when you do." You can tell he's crying now because it comes out shaky and his hold tightens a bit, before you lean back, stopping your impromptu waltz. Both of your hands come up to cup his face and look at his teary grey eyes before cooing at him.

"You big baby! Save those tears for When please. You'll be congested and sniffley all night if you don't stop." You start cleaning off his face with your sleeve, but he stops one of your hands and starts peppering your palm and wrist with small kisses. "I think I'm ready for bed now. Princess's orders," you say, dragging him towards your bedroom. You'll have to figure out tomorrow just how soon When is going to be, but for now you can hear the slow thumps of Hajime's steps as he follows behind you, squeezing your connected hand. It's not pressing in the least, you think, because it feels like there will be plenty of tomorrows too.

-----

When you wake up in the morning, it takes you an hour to realize Hajime had put the ring on your finger while you were asleep.

It takes you five minutes to run through town in your pajamas, barefoot to find and full on tackle him in front of the place he was about to get your breakfast in.

And it takes about two minutes of unintelligible blubbering on both your parts before anyone understands what is going on.

No one timed it, but if they did, it would've taken less than ten minutes for the whole town to find out via texts, calls, and yells down the streets and through windows that you're engaged.

[addamvelaryon]

The Mice & The Snakes

Artist: cerasusarbour