[multi-babii]

i still can't get over the fact that isak and evan talk about parallel universes and how there are probably infinite versions of them and their relationship and then we get to see those parallel universes. and it was done before the remakes were a thing. like how crazy is that.

[cumaeansibyl]

people talking about “forced diversity” like characters being PoC or LGBT or disabled “for no reason” like

are people in real life PoC or LGBT or disabled for a reason

do these critics run up to people on the street like WHY ARE YOU BLACK

[cumaeansibyl]

this post is nearly ten years old and unfortunately the government is now out here asking anyone with a halfway decent job WHY ARE YOU BLACK

[thecinamonroe]

Marilyn Monroe photographed by Cecil Beaton, 1956.

[l1quorlips]

rest in peace angel 🤍

[ahotknife]

this too shall pass but like… when

[floralrat]

[ddeck]

id be unstoppable if it wasn't for the evil brain disorder

[thelovergirljasmine]

Kendrick did this for the culture. He did this for US. 🖤✊🏽🤎

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Do any queer ppl over the age of 21 want to be pen pals? I want to make new friends and read/send long emails!

[tortoisewithoutashell]

my partner and I broke up the day before Christmas Eve, they were someone I thought I'd be with for a while and I just can't pretend to care about the holidays. I feel so numb

[userinherownwrld]

Judy Pace in Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970)

[tortoisewithoutashell]

As someone who gets super emotional about the things they love, I totally understand where Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo are coming from. If that makes me weird i don’t care

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Dancing with Shadows: Chapter 3

Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/tortoisewithoutashell/769313060765810689/dancing-with-shadows-chapter-2?source=share

Hi William,

Thank you for reaching out! Ballet is difficult; sometimes I wish I had decided to become an electrician or something that wouldn't wear on me so much. I think I’m having a mental breakdown—this profession sucks! My instructor is making me take time off to get my head in the game, and I cried in his office like a baby! Imagine that, a 23-year-old man crying in his boss's office!

Steve rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and pressed the delete button. Don’t overshare in your first message, you freak! You’re going to scare him away! He leaned back in his chair and thought about what he loved most about his job.

Hi William,

There are many things I love about this art form: when I try for ages to get something and it finally clicks, seeing my maître smile after doing a routine a million times and being finally happy with it, doing my makeup backstage, the backstage camaraderie during a performance, hearing people call my dancing 'beautiful', and the way the sun shines through the window of our studio on a summer’s day.

Tell me more about surfing. How long have you been doing it?

I’ve never been to California.

Steve felt satisfied with this response; he sounded normal, less like a crazed lunatic than in his first message. He pressed the send button and shut down his desktop. Needing a walk, he called Robin.

**

Robin came bounding down the street with a cup of coffee in each hand. How she wasn’t spilling them onto the concrete was a mystery, but so was Robin. They had met when Steve first moved to New York. She was one of the most elegant dancers he’d ever met, but off stage, she was somehow the clumsiest person. The juxtaposition of man, Steve supposed. Once she reached him, she put her arms out for a hug, but Steve feared being burned by the hot drinks, so he backed away. “Put the coffees down, Jesus, Robin!” Steve exclaimed before he grabbed one of the cups, and gave her a quick side hug.

“How come you complain when I’m mean to you and also when I’m nice?” she rolled her eyes, and they began walking. “I ran into Vickie last week,” Robin sighed, her shoulders slumping. “She told me that she’s seeing someone—a blonde.” The word "blonde" came out with a venomous bite. Steve nodded along, careful with his words. Robin had been chasing Vickie for years, but he was always too afraid to tell her to give it up; he was exhausted from constantly talking about her.“Well, maybe it's time to move on,” he said under his breath, and Robin smacked his shoulder. “People who’ve had 1 failed high school relationship, and haven’t dated since should not be giving others love advice. ” Robin rolled her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in 15 minutes and picked up her pace. She wasn’t upset with him, but she sure was good at faking it.  He kept a couple of paces back; they hadn’t talked about Eddie in a while, and he was kind of shocked that Robin had even mentioned him—even if not by name—she knew he was a sore spot for Steve.  She quickly turned around when she noticed that Steve was no longer beside her and stopped to wait for him to catch up. “I’m sorry, that was mean. I know what happened with Eddie wasn’t—er—ideal.” Steve shrugged; no harm was truly done. Sticks and stones. 

Robin threw her empty coffee cup in a nearby trash can and clapped her hands together quite loudly. How did she drink her coffee so quickly between her constant talking? Steve had no idea how she managed that. Before he could ask, a devious grin appeared on her face. “So you remember Nancy Wheeler?” Steve’s eyebrows raised.

How could he forget Ballet darling Nancy Wheeler, the next best thing since Galina Ulanova had graced the stage! “She asked about you!” Robin exclaimed gleefully.  Steve’s face went red. “What do you mean she asked about me?” He was dumbfounded; how did Nancy Wheeler know who he was?

His studio wasn’t unknown per se, but it's not like he was one of the more well-known dancers in it. “I don’t know; I went to this party this past weekend, and a bunch of dancers were there. I was talking about you, and she pulled me aside and asked me for your number. It was insane! I mean, she could have any guy in New York, maybe even the country, but she’s interested in you—” Robin froze for a second. “No offense.” She studied Steve’s face quickly to make sure he wasn't actually offended before continuing, “I know you typically date men, and you lean more towards men, but at the end of the day, you’re bisexual, and I don’t know, I sort of maybe kind of gave her your number.” 

Steve stopped in his tracks. Nancy Wheeler knew who he was and had his number. No fucking way.

**

It’s not that Steve had expected Nancy to call, but he had kind of, sort of gotten his hopes up and anticipated her call. He kept glancing at his phone every five minutes to ensure he wouldn’t miss it! It was excruciating! Without ballet in his life, he had nothing to distract him from his thoughts. He tried watching a movie, he tried playing a video game, and he even tried both at the same time, but nothing worked. He couldn’t rely on Robin either because she had the studio, and yearning for Vickie took up a lot of her time too. He scrolled through their most recent messages: 

Robin: I never thought this day would come, but I miss you at the studio; Luc is driving me nuts!  

Steve: Lol, what’s going on?  

Robin: I wanna try something new for Arabian Princess, but he’s all like, “No, tradition is tradition!” Tradition, my ass!!  

Steve: If you didn’t like tradition, you should’ve done hip-hop.  

Robin: Never mind, I don’t miss you! 

He needed a hobby. It had been a week since Robin told him about her conversation with Nancy. He’d made sure his phone was always charged, which was usually a difficult thing for him. God, he was so pathetic and so starved for affection that when some girl he’d never met showed a little interest, he lost his mind. He was currently lying on his bed, trying to figure out how he would spend his day. He was supposed to spend this month finding inspiration, but he had found none; in fact, he wasn’t even sure where he should start! He stared off into space and got lost in his thoughts, then his desktop lit up and made a pinging noise. He had received new ballet slippers and was hoping they had been delivered. He walked over to his desk, sat down on his mahogany chair, and opened his mail app, but instead of seeing a delivery email from Move Dancewear, it was a message from the pen pal website. He had completely forgotten about it.

Subject: Sorry  

From: WilliamH1999  

Message: Hey dude, I totally apologize for taking so long to respond. I help take care of my little sister, Maxine, and it was the last week of the school year, and it’s been hectic. I’ve been driving her everywhere and helping her with her end-of-the-year projects. Ballet sounds awesome; I can tell that you love it.  

I love catching a wave; it’s the most addicting feeling in the world!  

I’ve always loved the water. My mom and I would go to the beach all the time when I was a kid. She’s actually the person who taught me how to surf. I've tried to teach Maxine, but she’s a skater girl through and through.  

P.S. I kind of went down the ballet rabbit hole online. I learned that it’s Nutcracker season, which is a crazy time for ballerinas!  

I hope you’re holding up!  

Holy shit, Steve thought. William had responded and very thoughtfully too. Should he wait to reply? He didn’t want to come off as desperate, but he was also so bored and frankly had nothing better to do. Oh well, forget it! If William found it weird, then he wasn't the pen pal for Steve.  

Hey William, no problem! Family comes first!  

Oh Jesus, Steve, could you get any more corny? He hit the backspace and started over. Be normal.  

Hey bro, I totally understand. I used to babysit for extra cash back home, and I know that kids can be a handful. This one kid, Dustin, talked a mile a minute! But somehow, I miss him, lol.  

Maxine sounds badass; any skater girl is a cool girl in my mind.  

I’ll tell you an embarrassing secret: I don’t know how to swim; I like having both feet on the ground at all times. That and I’ve dedicated my entire life to ballet and have been doing it since I was three, and never picked up any other skills. Although freshman year, I begged my parents to learn the drums, and I took about three lessons before my mom forced me to quit. I guess the drums weren’t “proper” enough for my mom. It didn’t fit the image of our family.

Was that too personal? Steve didn’t care; he kept typing. It felt good to express his feelings.  

My cousin left home when he was 18 and cut off all contact. We haven’t heard from him in years! To be honest, I’m kind of jealous of him.  

No nutcracker for me this year (I’m being punished), which feels really weird because I’ve participated in the nutcracker every year since I was 8. It feels strange to take this much time off from ballet; the last time I did was in middle school when I twisted my ankle. I genuinely thought my career was over. Silly me!  

I’m going to assume you were born and raised in California?  

Tell me more about that!  

Steve pressed the send button and then started to panic. Shit! He had totally overshared in his message; what the heck was he thinking? William would probably not respond. Gosh, he should think about getting a therapist instead of oversharing with strangers on the internet. He put his head down on his desk and began mourning the loss of his pen pal. Then his desktop dinged. He shot his head up, and to his surprise, another message from Billy appeared.  

From: WilliamH1999  

That sucks, dude! You don’t live with your parents anymore, do you? You should start playing the drums. A ballerina-drummer combo would be badass; trust me! :)  

You should also take swim lessons; most YMCA’s offer them. I'm saying this because it could save your life one day; trust me on that too!  

Bummer about the Nutcracker! Hopefully, it’ll be back on next year, haha.  

Listen, Steve, I don’t know you well, and you don’t have to take my unsolicited advice, but you’ve got to be true to yourself, man. I used to be so afraid to be myself and so scared of my dad’s opinion, but you’ve got to live; at the end of the day, it's YOUR life. 

Steve’s jaw dropped; Billy didn’t think he was weird. He smiled at that, unable to contain his happiness. 

He Googled the YMCA closest to him and signed up for swim lessons. William was right, he had to live his life. 

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Dancing with Shadows: Chapter 2

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/tortoisewithoutashell/769268842263347200/dancing-with-shadows-chapter-1?source=share

Maître Johnson incessantly tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. Steve wanted to ask him to stop, but he was already so deep in the man's shit list that he didn’t want to set him off.  

“ Steven Harrington, ” he sighed, and the tapping stopped. “ I don't know what I’m going to do with you ,” he had a thick French accent, but it seemed thicker when he was upset. “ You have so much talent but no drive, none! So sad!” Maître Johnson’s hands flew everywhere, emphasizing every word with his gestures. “Steven, you must no longer come to class 30 minutes late, rude to me, rude to the other dancers!”  

Maître Johnson went quiet, his eyebrows furrowed. Steve swore he saw a drop of sweat slide down his forehead; the tension was palpable. Steve gulped; the silence dragged on, and a wave of anxiety washed over him. He couldn’t afford to be kicked out of the academy; he had put so much time and effort into this career, going against to fulfill his dreams! Fuck!  

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I don’t feel as passionate about dance as I once did. I love it, but—” Steve slumped in his seat; he hated being vulnerable, but this was probably the only way to keep his position.  

“Steven, non, you do not have to tell me, this is your issue. I give you one month: find passion, find drive, and you come back and try again?” Steve tilted his head inquisitively; his maître was going to let him take a month-long break? Right before Nutcracker season? He couldn’t believe his ears.  

“Maître Johnson, no—” he started to protest but was interrupted by the older man. “Non, Steven!” He leaned over his desk, grabbed both of Steve’s hands, and looked him dead in the eyes. “You take one month, come back, try again!”

Steve shook his head in agreement, and tears began to stream down his face.

**

Steve sat on his bed, his journal on his lap and his favorite pen in his right hand. How does one get their passion back? Probably not by sitting on their bed or aimlessly staring out of the window at the New York brownstones. He threw his journal across the room and sighed.  

Maybe he could find something online. He turned on his desktop, forgetting that the last website he had visited was findapenpal.com. How incredibly embarrassing, he thought. Could his life get any lower? He should probably delete his profile to salvage any dignity that he had left.  

Just as he moved his cursor to click on the settings tab, he noticed that he had a message in his inbox. It was probably one of those mass messages that the website sent out occasionally, but his curiosity piqued.  

He clicked on the message inbox icon, expecting nothing more than an update about some rule change or a new feature, but to his surprise, it was something entirely different.  

Subject: Hi  

From: WilliamH1999  

Message:  

Your profile stood out to me. I’ve never met a professional ballerina! What’s it like?  

Steve gasped. Somebody was interested in being pen pals with him? He clicked on William’s profile and scrolled to his biography.  

William, 25  

Stereotypical California boy; I love the beach, the sun, and surfing.  

Not much to work with, but Steve smiled to himself. He went back to William’s message and hit reply.

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Speculating on celebrities sexualities on public forums is never and will never be cute. People who do that are really fucking weird.

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Dancing with Shadows: Chapter 1

Lonely male ballet dancer Steve Harrington has lost his passion for dance. Enter Billy Hargrove.

//

Steve sighed as he stared at the profiles on his screen. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. He ran his hands through his chestnut hair and scrolled to the bottom of the page.  

Henry, 26: I love first-person shooter games, and watching gaming videos on YouTube, and I've been told I’m a pretty funny guy. I am looking for someone who has similar interests! No preferred gender.

Steve’s eye twitched, it felt like he’d looked at 500 profiles, and he was not interested in any of them. They were boring, bland, uninspired, and frankly uninteresting. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of being so picky. He was in this predicament because he was lonely, which led him to do a crazy thing like sign up for a pen pal service. 

His eyes glanced at the clock on the right-hand side of his computer, and he almost jumped out of his chair. Fuck! He thought he was going to be late for ballet class! His maître was going to skin him alive! 

He stood up quickly and began scanning his room for his ballet duffle. Fuck! It was missing! 

Don’t panic! Don’t panic! Breathe..breathe.. Count to 10…

His phone began to ring, and he dug it out of his pocket. It was Robin, he almost pressed the big red decline button but knew she’d give him attitude about it, and he was in no mood to feel her wrath, at least not today.

“Robin, I don’t have time to talk right now!” he said through gritted teeth.He could sense her rolling her eyes from miles away 

“So, you don’t want me to bring your ballet bag to class?” he didn’t have to be in the same room as her to know that she was smirking.

“Shit, you have my bag!?” he rubbed his forehead in frustration, of course, he left it at Robins, he was such a dumbass. 

“Mhmmm, my roommate found it in our bathroom, but since you’ve got such a nasty attitude today, I think I’ll skip class and the bag will stay with me, here, in my lovely apartment. What do you think, Steven?!” he could feel her shit-eating grin. 

Steve walked to the other side of the room where his bed was and sat down. He looked down at his watch, he was going to be 30 minutes late. Again. He envied Robin, who had made the right choice by living a 5-minute walk from the studio. 

“I swear to god, Robin, bring my bag, or I’ll tell Vickie about the time that you ate shit in front of Tammy Thompson at the fair!” two could play this game. 

“Fuck you!” Robin exclaimed so loudly that Steve could feel the hairs in his ears dying. She then chuckled and said, “I’ve taught you so well, I'm so proud!” as she pretended to sniffle. 

“Just bring my bag!” Steve huffed before hanging up, grabbing his apartment keys from his desk and running out the door. 

[tortoisewithoutashell]

Some of my absolute favorite Sarah Cameron outfits!