#they're such a good dancers.....

[sergle]

Are you on southern men swing dancing together tiktok?? Huh??? Because I AM

[franken-loser]

Been thinking about the Frankenstein ballet again recently and ouugughh the people who play victor are always so gorgeous like what the fuck

Frederico Bonelli as Victor!!! He's the original cast for him I believe, since he played him in the recorded show

Tristan Dyer as Victor OH MY GODDD hes so,,,,,just,,,heshsso,,shehs

ALEXANDER CAMPBELL AS VICTOR☝️☝️☝️❗❗❗ Alexander Campbell plays Henry in the original recorded version of the ballet and he plays Victor in another version hes SO silly🙏🙏🙏

Annnddd José Pablo Castro Cuevas as Victor!!!! He's literally so gorgeous AND Amanda Assucena as Elizabeth shes so beautiful im WAHAHHHSHAG

[akuma-tenshi]

so the new hullabaloo lore teaser, huh??

[9ndreus]

I CANNOT get over Maggie's gay little sweater she's wearing in this scene:

[rainofthetwilight]

hey guys. what if I drew bonzle in egyptian clothing too so she could match her dad. What then huh

[whump-in-the-closet]

A Good Day

this has been in my drafts for ages so voila

cw: messed up superhero agency and what happens to those who don't make it through training, minor whump (implied), crying in the backseat of a car, mostly just introductions to the characters, which are two brothers who've adopted this ex-hero-who-ran-from-training and the agency will do anything to get him back, also angst and scarring

____

Today is going to be a good day. 

Teddy digs a hand into the cracked leather of the armrest, picking at the plush inside. He watches the blurring sky from the car window.

He needs it to be a good day. 

On the radio, a song he doesn’t know is playing. The volume is set far too high. It’s blasting a hole through his head and he reaches over to turn it off, but stops when he realizes the teenager in the backseat mouthing along with the words.

If only excitement was infectious.

All Teddy can feel is panic. Today is going to be good. It’s going to be great…going to be good….

He sinks back into the seat, pulling the plush completely out of the armrest. He rips it into smaller and smaller pieces. Finding something to direct his growing anxiety on helps, a little. 

The car slows at a stoplight, and his brother checks on him. “Teddy?” 

Teddy waits, drawing the moment out until the light turns green and Elias has to keep his eyes on the road again. He brushes the last of the plush off his pants. “I'm good?” It comes out all wrong, like a question.

Any confidence he had earlier leaves then and now. Teddy picks the plush up from the floor of the car and starts to tear at it again. He keeps his eyes steadily on the window, watching the buildings fly past. 

Billboards. 

People. 

So many people. 

Elias lowers the music. “You want to do this,” he repeats, confident “You��ve only been talking about it for the past three months.” 

Teddy finds an unshredded piece of plush and rips it with a vicious twist of his fingers. “This was a bad idea...I’m not good enough.” 

Shit.

He hadn’t meant to say that aloud. 

Elias turns the radio off. Click. 

Shit.

“I think you’re good enough,” he says.

Cut out the emotional sap.

But Elias goes on. “The Glenn Symphony won’t even wait until the end of the audition to hire you.” 

“There’s tryouts after the audition too. Another round.” Teddy points out, vindication sharp in his mouth.

Elias lifts a hand off the wheel to wave his brother's concerns aside. “Which you’ll do amazing at. Don’t shake your head at me– Stop– you’re going to blow them away. You’ll go into one of your little trances and you’ll forget there are people even watching.” 

Teddy’s fingers still. “I don’t go into a trance.” He just forgets about everything and everyone around him and it’s just the music– just the music— all around him, until he sees the notes playing under his eyelids….

“You’re going to do great.”

The banter goes on, and on, until the nervousness seeps out of Teddy’s voice. He smiles as the back-and-forth continues. 

In the backseat, the kid laughs brightly, his voice charred and raspy enough to sound burned.

He talks in a slow cadence, testing the words before he says them. “I’m getting deja vu. But,” he points at Teddy and Elias, “the roles were switched.” Dark hair falls into his eyes as he leans forward between the seats. 

 “Yeah, I thought I would be sick at my audition.” Elias pauses for breath, then dives back into the conversation, “And Teddy, told me ‘you’re gonna be fine’. And? You were right.” 

Rufus-- the teenager--jabs Teddy in the shoulder. “Your audition is going to go just as well.” 

Elias turns again. “You tell him, Rufus.”

Teddy sighs. “If you guys say so.” He doesn’t sound convinced. 

He doesn't feel convinced.

He doesn't want to be convinced.

“Good," says Elias, "Because we’re here.”

Teddy’s stomach drops as the car pulls into the parking spot. With the jolt of the stop, Teddy’s stomach drops even further. He freezes over his seatbelt, catching sight of the massive Art Center. 

“Can we go in with you?” 

Teddy wishes his brother could come. But the restrictions said only the applicant could meet the audition committee, so he shakes his head and unbuckles his seatbelt. 

“I’ll see you in half an hour?” 

Teddy nods. “Half an hour.” He shuts the car door behind him and stares up at the glass pillars of the entrance. The world seems to spin, for a moment. Unconsciously, he fidgets with his tie and buttons his suit jacket. Then his gaze is pulled to a billboard stationed above the building. 

A girl with a halo of pink hair surveys a depiction of the city from the sky, stars swirling at her feet. Her skin bleeds into the night around her. Her eyes are alight with white flames.

Guardian Angel, they call her.

Protector of cities.

She’s a hero, a legend, a god.

Above her are the words: Savior. The heroes of tomorrow, today. 

Teddy looks away, at the car, as it pulls out of the parking lot.

The Guardian’s eyes don’t leave him until he’s inside. Even then, he can feel them boring into the back of his head. They don’t leave him as he shakes hands with the audition committee. He can still feel them when he wipes his sweaty palms on his pant leg. Only when he sits down at the piano, with the black and white keys shining up at him, do the eyes of flame fade from his memory. 

The half hour goes by in a blur. 

The piece he’s memorized for this audition is his personal favorite. As he plays, all else drains away. He’s not on a stage anymore, he’s back in the apartment, and there’s no one watching him. 

He feels good. 

The nervousness vanishes. 

Stage lights are blinding but the music drowns it out. He’s doing well, he knows it. The piano is deeper than his own and he is able to bring out sounds he could never replicate again. 

He smiles, leaning over the piano, acutely aware of the tension in his hands as he holds a long chord, and playing the melody faster. 

Just a little faster than the four four time required. 

It feels so good. 

Teddy finishes and stands. The committee promises that the callbacks will be within the week, and a few smile. 

He smiles back, fidgeting with his tie. The music is gone, replaced with uncomfortable small talk. Teddy nods, and says thank you so many times, he thinks he’ll be unable to say anything else the rest of the day. He’s saved by a text from Elias and it takes all of his self control to not run from the building. 

Teddy doesn’t look at the billboard, in fact, he does his best to forget it's there. He gets in the car, keeping his back to it. 

Elias pulls down his sunglasses. “The piano man survived!” 

Rufus leans forward, shoving the last bit of an ice cream sandwich into his mouth. “How’d you do?” At least that's what it sounds like. Teddy can’t exactly tell– Rufus’s mouth is completely full. 

Teddy laughs. He can’t help it. It’s over, and he’s out of the auditorium, and as Elias drives forward, the billboard is gone.

Teddy pulls off his tie completely and lets it fall to the floor. “I survived, yeah. I think it went well.” He’s distracted by the assortment of wrappers on the floor. “Did you guys get me any ice cream?” 

Rufus hands him a bar. 

The taste of chocolate and vanilla pushes away the last remnants of the burning eyes.

He leans back in his seat, sunlight playing across the bridge of his nose.

Some of the vanilla trickles over his hand, sticky.

Even stickier when he licks it off. 

It’s melting all over his hand when he hears the sirens. 

Loud and shrill enough to cut through metal. The sun is still bright, but the temperature drops all the same. 

Police cars have surrounded a house set by the road. Their lights flash red and blue and red again, bright enough to blind the whole street. Someone is dragged out of the house, the door hanging slightly off its hinges. 

It’s kicked and the door falls off completely, slamming into the porch. 

Someone is shouting– cursing. Cursing Savior. It’s loud enough to be heard over the sirens.   

Elias’s hands clench over the wheel and in the backseat, Rufus turns to stone, silence creeping up and strangling all three of them. 

“Get in the backseat with Rufus.” Now. Before they see him. 

Teddy says nothing and crawls over as quickly as possible. He moves to sit on the side closest to the window, shielding Rufus with his own profile. 

Elias speeds up. 

Rufus is trembling as Teddy wraps his arms around him, pulling him close. Dark braids shield his eyes but he’s whispering something over and over again. 

Rufus, who had been laughing and joking not a moment before, presses shaking hands together. He buries his face into Teddy’s shirt, and Teddy brushes back his hair, holding him tight. The word Rufus whispers is a plea. 

All it takes is a moment for the day to fall apart. 

One moment.

“Please please please please–” 

They’ve driven past the house, but Rufus continues to tremble. And beg.

The begging is worse than anything.  

Vanilla and chocolate drip over the leather seats. 

Savior. The heroes of tomorrow, today. 

[vivalu]

No thoughts except Penelope and Odysseus to the Dancing scene in Zorro

[divorcedwife]

i really need to get back to my sports habits -__- im afraid cause i know it will be hard until i get back to a better condition but it's not like it will happen on its own

[tmnt-tychou]

Leo took Mona on a date to the Hidden City. They went dancing.

I think I'm going to be posting more sketches. When I think about everything I want to draw, I get intimidated when I think of how time consuming it all is to ink and color. So I may just sketch more stuff since I'll still at least be posting something.

[chickensoupleg]

Guess who is thinking about Heather again.

That's right, me~

AU where Heather is a professional dancer. Her parents put her in dance classes as a kid and she found it fun and continued pursuing it into college. Just having the time of her life. Maybe a certain lady shows up at every show and practise just to watch her!

Heather spinning out of men's lives with middle fingers up with the grace of a swan when they get too handsy during partner dances.

Aaaaa Heather with sparkly makeup on as she dances on stage and making her pop... ✨🦀✨

[givemeallyourpenny]

In their paired ending Constance and Jeritza settled down in Nuvelle and we’d in their rosegarden

In their paired ending Petra and Hubert settle down in Nuvelle, do you think they also wed in the rose garden?

I like to think that all of the black eagles wed in the rose garden, in fact they all had their weddings at the same time!

[maximura]

[yupuffin]

The following are statements about fandom competitions that all can, and should, coexist:

Cosplay competitions, dance competitions, etc. are not "rigged" AND

Competitions naturally benefit the participant with the greatest advantage and hence, by definition, will never be completely "fair"

The degree to which some participants structure their lives around their artistic pursuits surpasses the typical definition of a "hobby" AND

Competitions are not a complete or accurate representation of any hobby or artistic pursuit; considering them such tends to lead to perpetual dissatisfaction

Judges' opinions are often informed by significant relevant experience AND

Judgments are ultimately opinions with which you are allowed to agree or disagree at your leisure

It can be immensely frustrating when judges make judgments that you disagree with AND

Allowing yourself to experience that frustration, and then moving on from it, rather than trying to "correct" the judges or make a "callout," is generally the most productive reaction

It's healthy and natural to want to win/place/receive positive feedback AND

If any form of judgment is going to "make or break" your competition experience, it's wise to seriously reconsider whether competing in your current state is healthy and sustainable

Placements/wins/positive feedback are achievements worthy of celebration AND

Competition statistics are not an objective reflection of the quality or value of an artistic presentation

My 10+ years of experience (depending on the discipline) informs my opinion that the competition format hinges on subjectivity and serves primarily to draw an audience (utilizing the anticipation of "who will win???"), not to make objective judgments about any participants or their entries.

Please be cautious not to fall into the mindset that winning is the paramount aspect of competing. The amount of grief I've seen people experience over judges' opinions, and the number of people I've spoken to who say they've quit a competition scene entirely because of how elitist and cutthroat the environment was, is just heartbreaking.

I think a lot of work can be done to make fandom competitions more welcoming, inclusive, and accessible environments -- I've been in precious few communities like this both outside and within fandom, and I know we can do better.

I don't believe that centering that work on how judging is done is entirely wasted effort, due to the subjectivity of judging as a practice, I don't think that there's a single rubric, formula, or procedure that will make everyone happy. Instead, I think it's more worthwhile to highlight the community aspect of fandom competitions and focus on supporting one another and valuing each participant for their unique individual contributions to the artistic scene, not for their statistics.

Finally, I can ramble all day about what I think about the competition scene, but I really do believe that everything here, while informed by my experience, is still just opinion, and you're free to disagree.

[dudeshusband]

what's interesting to me is that when the ding-a-lings do solos they are great singers and yet they are playing second fiddle, in skimpy outfits, to dean martin

[xnoel]

16 year old yujin (who was born in 2007) and his role model taemin (who debuted in 2008) 🥺