meme #004 | slow-dancing ( think outside the boxstep )

[the]

slow dancing ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ a meme → COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE. → PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND GO FOR IT. → PLAY NICE; NO WANK, FLAMES, OR GENERAL HUMBUGGERY. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the deal FORMAL OR INFORMAL, WITH MUSIC OR WITHOUT, YOU COULD BE AT A GLAMOUROUS GALA WHILE A SINGER CROONS SOFTLY OR IN THE SILENCE OF YOUR OWN LIVING ROOM. WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU HAVE THE URGE TO DANCE. DID YOU ASK YOUR PARTNER OR DID THEY ASK YOU? HAVE YOU GOT TWO LEFT FEET OR IS THE VIENNESE WALTZ YOUR JAM? IT COULD BE AWKWARD, IT COULD BE ROMANTIC. EITHER WAY IT'S CUTE AS HELL.

Comments

[thenorthernwall]

Fortunately... I don't like conventional men. Your failure is commendable.

[soldiernoclass]

[ With a decisive shake of his head, Zack rebuffs her self-recriminations as easily if he'd seen them coming miles off. And maybe he did - she and Cloud have that in common, at least, even if Tifa supposes nothing else. Or maybe that's just one more backwards thing they used to teach them, up there in that lonely mountain town.

Whatever the reason, though, he won't have any of it. ]

You don't know that. For all we know, it could've messed him up just as bad if you'd been upfront about it from the start.

[ And then they'd be no better off than they are, now - except he wouldn't have the slightest clue, floating useless in this queer shade of an afterlife, wasted on the nothingness therein. ]

All that matters now is where we're gonna go from here.

wow wat did i write there

[bello]

When he pulls from the kiss, his voice comes out again, hardly above a murmur and only for her to hear.

"I love this," and with that he presses a soft kiss to her temples. He says it again and lets his mouth take hers for a few precious moments, heated and hungry. And he says it a third time, dipping down to nip at her throat softly. And finally, very gently, he comes back up to cup the back of her neck and smile. A genuine quirk of the lips upwards as he runs fingers through soft hair at her nape. "E ti." And you.

He can hide behind his language, hide briefly because Darcy knows some in passing, but he can stop his voice from quaking as he looks at her. Beautiful, breathless, bold.

[fe_male]

Can you roll anything else?

[arealgem]

[Ruby is very careful about peeking at the demon, and when he starts to turn away is when she decides it's time to move.]

Time to move. [Ruby looks up at him with a smirk, while slipping her hand into his jacket pocket to grab the keys to the Impala.] I'll meet you in the alley, don't mess it up, bait boy.

GET INTO MY LIFE.

[playthings]

Princes knew how to throw parties. How exactly each of them were there was an issue for another day; Jim had connections just about everywhere across the world and the prince had made a very specific point of giving him an invitation hand delivered by one of his personal guard. Hardly a first, but it wasn't his style to turn his nose up at a ball that meant for mingling with the right sort of crowd.

He arrived that night with all the bells and whistles; Alexander McQueen suit and tie, custom made Italian leather shoes, cuff links and tie pin all in place. He wore the fox accents tonight, despite his need to not quite play the role; tonight was a night to make possible friends and assess the atmo, not stalk and prey on possible victims. He welcomed the change of pace to be sure, but this wasn't a den filled with the ordinary sort of people he dealt with for the most part in London. No, this was a den full of would-be wolves and he was a fox in their midst; best to hide behind a more humble decorum if he's to survive the night without new foes trailing at his heels.

The was quite the buzz about the arrival of one Miss Irene Adler. She was a thing of legend among the middle eastern dignitaries he mingled with for the first portion of the night, though many of them were put off by approaching her and refused to make the first move. But whispers and secrets told the story of a woman much more clever than the men fawning over her classic beauty (which he appreciated thoroughly to be sure) so he feigned the devouring of liquid courage (he'd never need it to approach anyone) and approached the fabled Woman with an outstretched arm.

"Would you do me the honor, Miss Adler."

[tranquilizing]

"God that feels good..." He coasts on the sensations, the strength and calluses of the fingers gripping him, the tenderness he can feel in the sure, lazy strokes that Takeshi knows will spin him high but never over. It's so good, so right in this moment, and he returns the touch, slow, and sure, and lets each of his fingers drag over the crown and head of him in a slow twist before letting his tongue chase and follow his fingers' path.

The flat of his tongue licks up the underside of him, three languid strips from base to head, sucking just a little at the extra skin. He loves this part of Ezio, that it moves with him, that's it an extra layer of sensation for them both. He lingers on the underside of his head, just above where foreskin gives way, and circles the sensitive skin there with just the tip of his tongue, plying lazy pleasure on him.

[notbullied]

[ Moments when Nageki can smile this brightly are few and far in between. He almost laughs when he hears that humming fairly close to his ear. ]

... Thank you, mister Kawara. [ For wanting to spend time with him at all when he's not the most social or interesting birdie ever. ]

[theagent]

That's classified.

[biding]

[He smiles at the thanks. Oh, see, that warms him right up, makes him feel all the gladder that he decided to come up here.]

Nothing to thank me for. [But,] Thank you for dancing with me.

[bello]

[His jaw goes slack as she dips down, rolls her hips, snaps them back to brush against him so torturously and he laughs and groans at the same time, an arm wrapping around her waist, pressing himself to her from behind and leaning down to mutter.]

"You are wicked. Where did you learn to dance like that, bella?"

[instinctiveshooter]

[Ata girl. Clint only ends the kiss when it goes on a little longer than is really decent for public company. He smiles at her.]

If we were somewhere more private..

[He trails off suggestively.]

IT'S PROBABLY TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE

[predominates]

Princes always knew how to treat someone like royalty — Irene, in particular. Suddenly they were on their knees, begging to be ruled. But in the presence of others, they were all painfully dull and slaves to routine (thankfully there was a lovely waitress to keep her occupied). She never could pass up on a party though. Everything that was to come after would be the real fun. She had big plans for herself here in Dubai; and from the sounds of things, she wasn't the only one. There was talk of another Londoner amidst them.

Tonight, her appearance was nothing less than exotic. Hair pinned to an intricate perfection, dressed in a wine red Christian Dior gown with a thigh-high leg slit, and her black Louboutins, naturally. And it was not only the case in places like Dubai, but it wouldn't be biased to say she was a striking woman. She knew that and played it to her advantage. It seemed to be working as well as ever. Irene turns at the call, knowing almost instantly who all the gossip was about, besides herself.

"It's a party, isn't it? It would be rude not to." She flashes a dangerous smile, slipping her hand over his arm. "I thought no one would ever ask." With that tone and her eyes set on his, her meaning should be clear, you're different and I like that.

IT'S TOO LAAAAAAAATE (and now this song is in my head)

[playthings]

He throws her a charming smile and a lighthearted chuckle, the perfect gentlemen in the play that is just beginning. Tonight Jim Moriarty is playing an unremarkable supporting role, acting out each scene with the hopes of being no more recognizable by personality that the ivory fountain gracing the grand entryway to the hall; charming and of significant notoriety but not to be thought of in detail except in passing or to remark anecdotally on those traits. No, tonight Miss Irene Adler is the star.

He leads her with ease over to the dance floor, gliding with all eyes watching them to the very center of the gold inlay black marble. Grasping her hand gently, he gives her a twirl abut in perfect timing with the jazzy tune bellowing form the band. In one fluid motion draws her close as she leaves her pirouette, leaving but an inch between their bodies. His left hand presses to the small of her exposed back, something he doesn't bother to shy away from. It was a treat being at eye level with her, truly equals fort he time in her Louboutins.

"They say the gentlemen here worship their woman more oft from a far. It staves off temptation," he says with the hint of his accent creeping out through his smile. "But I've never been one for looking and not touching."

Smooth like honey Jim can be when he wishes, but if Irene cares to dig beneath surface she'll see the truth of her once dance partner. It's not as easy for him to consider her an equal no matter how tall the shoes, but to say she doesn't have the bearing of a queen would be a lie even for him.

[notbullied]

[ He shakes his head a little. No, there's plenty he can thank him for. ] It was more fun than I thought it would be.

[theagent]

[ Her answering smile is small, but undeniably there. ]

Concentrate on the mission, Barton.

[fe_male]

Tease.

[theagent]

Not at all, Mr Stark. [ Yes, she is. Sometimes. ]

[fe_male]

Is that 'No, I'm not a tease', or 'Don't mention it; I enjoy it so it's free of charge and no taxpayers are suffering'?

[theagent]

I'm not, and no taxpayers suffered.

[fe_male]

Taxpayers always suffer. And incidentally non-taxpayers tend to as well, but it takes longer and then it's all at once.

[theagent]

Not usually because of me.

[instinctiveshooter]

Only if I can continue this later.

[He counters, taking every advantage of the public setting.]

I can see our problem, he's hovering over there near the male toilets.

[fe_male]

It's okay; I'm here if you need someone to talk to about the guilt.

[theagent]

Yes, Stark, please let me unload my non-existent personal problems on you.