#oh also he plays (or at least played) violin!!!! which is also so so good

[orcelito]

Tales of Arise has consumed my life

I am already in love with this man

[hood-ex]

Rip Damian’s ability to mimic people voices,

like seriously do DC not know the potential that could have? THE COMEDY POTENTIAL?!

Bats!Dick and Batgirl Steph could have had a game with Damian by introducing as many people to Damian as they can and get him to mimic their voices.

Dick can show Damian memes and famous clips from movies and Damian could perfectly repeat them in the actors voice.

We could have Damian using his ability to mimic voices as a way to either gain the overhand over an enemy or to psychologically torment them.

Rip DC you did nothing with ability along with Damian’s ability to apparently DO SURGERY

Which was Ngl kinda insane. How does he keep steady hands??????? At least now it was sort of believable when he attempted to disarm a bomb because I know he has steady hands and precision but like bro he’s like ten

Anyways sorry about that rant, does Dick have any werid abilities or talents that comic book writers either forget or underuse?

Like I know when he was younger apparently he was like a mathlete or something and he knows a lot of languages.

I don't know why this made me want Damian to mimic Patrick having the, "It's not my wallet" convo with Man Ray. But yeah or the fact that Damian plays the violin. Unless that's been brought up in his series with Bruce, I haven't been keeping up with it. According to Damian himself, he can quickly master musical instruments, so I'm just waiting for him to challenge Steph to a piano duel. Or she could play piano, and he could play violin. Either way.

Dick can also do voice mimicry thanks to Alfred. And yeah, he used to be a math tutor. I like whenever he does any kind of mechanic/engineer/welding work. I wouldn't mind it being a bigger focus. As for weird abilities... he's good with his thighs lmao. Either tossing people or holding on to things with them alskdja. Oh and Dick can also use a slingshot. That's a fun weapon. And this is more of a hobby than a talent but skydiving.

[gotham-daydreams]

Fun fact: Dick used to play guitar and is still fairly good at it. Jason has an Electric guitar in his old room at the Wayne manor. Stephanie quit playing the piano but she can still the basics, and Damian plays violin.

Im not sure if it's completely right, but if it was, how would that go with the whole reader being a musician thing?

Ohhh that's interesting! I actually didn't know that before, but that's cool! (Jason definitely seems like the type to pick up an electrical guitar.)

If it was completely right I'd say that they'd probably have the reader play with them, or have the reader teach them how to play again/how they can improve. (Since again, the reader can play multiple instruments.) Though of course by 'have' I mean force.

Dick in particular would definitely always try to have a duet of some kind, or constantly suggest that hey, they should make their own song together! At least he asks even if he'll visibly sadden if the reader says any variation of 'no', but Damian does not. He will just barge in on whatever the reader is doing and either force them to listen to him play, and say how well he did, and or also force them to play with him. (Kind of like how he'll be with the whole art thing.)

Even if Jason doesn't play anymore, I think he'd kind of use it as a "oh, I used to do that too" sort of thing so he can bond with the reader more. (In theory.) He might pick it back up, but would heavily 'appreciate' lessons so he can refine his skill again, and maybe even become a lot better than he used to be, who knows?

Stephanie I feel is less forceful, and seeing as she did quit she'd probably prefer to listen to the reader's music than play with them, but she wouldn't necessarily mind if they played a simple duet either. Sure, she might be a little rusty but... if the reader's willing to help then she won't turn them down.

All in all, suddenly they're as interested in music as the reader is, and are definitely going to use it to bond with them in any way they can manage. With some being a 'bit' forceful when it comes to their attempts, compared to others.

Which may or may not 'ruin' music for the reader, or at least certain sounds for them. Since they'll begin to associate certain instruments and such with certain people, and, well, that definitely doesn't begin to mess them up after a while. No wayyyy.

Oh! Also, the other remaining members of the family might either feel compelled to learn an instrument, or just want to listen to you play that much more. Tim would at least think about picking up an instrument, same with Babs, and Bruce would join Alfred in listening. (Though lets be honest, Bruce can probably play something too.) Cass would probably do a bit of both if she can help it.

Expect the Batfam to be very interested in music suddenly, with them either asking for lessons or to play with you, or patiently waiting for you to play so that they can listen.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Sweet Symphony 🎻❤️‍🔥🎹, a '68 Special Era One-Shot

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for quite a while. Sweet Symphony started as a special request for '68 Special era Elvis from my Get to Know Me Gala way back in March! I also included the prompt, "Do it again, please." Nothing like a good two-fer!

A professional violinist Reader gets a little more than she bargains for after rehearsal for Elvis Presley's '68 Special...

Mature 18+ || Word count: 9.2k

TW: Sexxx in various forms, fluff, cussing, dubious use of a piano

For my most patient baby, @savedrebelcreation 💗

(If you want to get stories like this early, come join my Patreon!)

Sweet Symphony

A ’68 Special Era Request

You’re early. Too early, in fact, but your mother always said, “If you’re on time, you’re late,” so it goes to reason that for such an important job, you find yourself clicking your heels into the rehearsal room a full hour before it’s set to start.

The only reason they allowed you in this early is that your brother-in-law, Billy, is the one in charge of this portion of the production rehearsal, arranging the music for Elvis Presley’s television special due out in December. He had been tasked, rather last minute, to take over the musical arrangements. When your sister called on Billy’s behalf, saying he desperately needed a professional violinist to fill in for the one who’d been suddenly struck with a bout of appendicitis, you were a little confused at first. Why in the world would Elvis Presley need a violinist? had been the first thought in your head, but a job is a job, and you figure a television special of this magnitude wouldn’t hurt your classical resume.

Sure, why not? you’d thought, then packed up your violin and got a ticket for the next plane out to LA. If nothing else, I’ll get some sun.

Since your plane arrived late, you made the executive decision to go straight to the studio rather than chance the traffic by checking into your hotel first. Which is how you find yourself in the near-dark rehearsal space before anyone else has even thought to arrive, violin and suitcase in tow. At least you’ll get a chance to look over the score Billy just handed you before anyone else arrives, you think, finding a chair and settling in to unpack and prepare your instrument.

So focused are you that you don’t really register the door opening and then latching closed. You figure it is just Billy, who had been frantically going over sheet music up in the booth. When the piano begins to play, softly, you nearly jump out of your skin with surprise, having been so lost in sight reading and humming your part that you were oblivious to the presence of another in the room.

“Oh my god!” you gasp in surprise, managing to knock the loose pages of the score off the music stand as your hand flies up to your chest. “Damnit,” you mutter under your breath, scurrying to pick up the pages and put them back in order.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” you hear a gentle voice drawl out from the darkness.

“Oh, no, I just wasn’t expecting anyone in here so early and I was so caught up in…” you taper off, furrowing your brow and trying to get your sheet music situated.

“Here, lemme help you with that,” the voice says, kneeling to pick up loose pages.

“Oh, thank…” your voice hitches when you look down at the man holding up more music that had fluttered away across the floor.

It’s the sparkling sapphire blue eyes that catch you first, framed in criminally long, dark lashes, blinking up at you from where he’s kneeling on the floor next to your chair. They are utterly mesmerizing in the way they search your face apologetically. Your voice dies in your suddenly dry throat, and so mesmerized are you with those eyes that it takes you much too long to take in the rest of him.

That’s when you realize that the man with the pretty eyes on his knees near your feet is the one and only Elvis Presley.

“…you. Thank you,” you manage to finish, gingerly taking the pages from his grasp.

Elvis smiles up at you so bashfully, so charmingly, that it takes your breath away.

It doesn’t hit you until this very moment that you are playing for the Elvis Presley. Between everything happening so quickly and you assuming you wouldn’t get to meet the man himself, you just hadn’t considered the magnitude of the job.

You’d just hit your teenage years when Elvis came into his stardom, the timing perfect for swooning over the Southern boy with the rebellious good looks and the completely unique sound. But your parents had been strict and conservative, opting for your upbringing to be filled with learning and playing classical music, so the only chance you’d had to listen to Elvis was when you went to your girlfriend’s house. There you could swoon over him unimpeded, but it was more vicarious than anything else. And by the time you were old enough to properly swoon to your heart’s content, you were so busy with your music degree that it hadn’t really crossed your mind to ogle over Elvis.

To be quite honest, you had become a bit of a music snob at that point, so Elvis wasn’t really on your radar, though you had been impressed by his reworked English version of O Solo Mio. His It’s Now or Never had been a massive hit, and he had amazed you with his vocal talent, which you were convinced was wasted on silly pop songs. Needless to say, Elvis and his music had been off your radar for a long, long time.

You certainly hadn’t realized the man had only gotten more attractive as time went on. Magazine pictures and even his movies (which you hadn’t cared to watch since the beginning of the decade) don’t do him justice, which is saying something since you’d never once seen the man look anything less than handsome. But those damn eyes pop against his tanned skin and raven hair, and that curved-lip smile has butterflies flying in your stomach like a schoolgirl.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, still kneeling at your feet.

“My name? Oh, um, my name is y/n,” you stammer out. You could kick yourself for how gobsmacked you sound, a grown professional woman nearly forgetting her own name in the presence of an attractive man. But the thing is he isn’t just attractive—he’s ethereal.

“Well, hello there, y/n. I’m Elvis,” he says, as if he were just some regular Joe and not one of the most famous men alive. “What do you play?” He motions to your music.

“Uh, violin. Well, and piano, but violin professionally,” you reply, unable to take your eyes off him.

His eyes light up at this. “I play piano, too,” he says, with such a little boy quality that you can’t help but smile.

“Oh?” This surprises you quite a bit since he is so synonymous with the birth of rock and roll and you’d only ever seen him with an acoustic guitar.

“Yeah, a lotta people don’t know that, but between you and me, I like playin’ piano more,” he says, with a wink. Elvis stands up from his crouch with little effort, so lithely that you equate it to a dancer. Your eyes follow up, up, up his lean frame, and you try not to notice just how well his tailored outfit fits him.

He walks back towards the piano he came from, and you blush when you catch yourself staring at his backside, like some sort of lecherous creep. Quickly turning your attention back to the pages of music in your lap, you force yourself to try and make sense of page numbers, shuffling them back into order.

“Do you know this one?” Elvis suddenly asks, shocking you by playing the opening notes of a well-known Beethoven piece.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. I do,” you respond, still stumbling over your words. “That’s Moonlight Sonata.”

“What happens after this part?” he asks, playing the beginning again. The question seems quite honest, still having that curious, young quality about it. Before you think better of it, you’re walking over to the piano.

“May I?” you say, standing near the bench. Music is your language. You’ve always been better with an instrument at your fingertips than with your words. It makes you feel bolder, so when Elvis only scoots over instead of yielding the bench, it doesn’t stop you from perching next to him.

It only takes a second for the movement to come back to you and you place your hands on the keys, letting them speak for you. You’ve done your share of teaching, so it doesn’t take but a moment to fall into that role. You just try not to think too hard on that fact that it’s Elvis Presley that you’re teaching.

He’s nodding along, eyes focused solely on your hands. So close to him, you can feel the way the music affects his body. It’s something you can relate to.

You stop yourself from speeding too far ahead in the music and pull your hands away from the keys. “Is that…do you want me to go again, or do you want to try it?” you ask.

“Do it again. Please?” he asks watching your hands with incredible focus.

You do, trying to keep it simple and without too much flourish.

“Okay, so it’s like this then?” he says after you finish, and as his long, slender fingers glide across the keys, you realize they are musician’s fingers. They may be dripping with jewels that are likely more expensive than your apartment, but they are quite perfect for the kind of instruments he plays. It strikes you he was made to do this.

You recognize then that Elvis is truly a musician and not just a performer. The way he concentrates, learning and adapting quickly as you show him more of the song, only by ear and sight, amazes you.

It's through the music that you begin to calm. Talking one musician to another is much more manageable than considering the magnitude of the person you’re speaking with. Frankly, you are completely amazed by how incredibly gentle and disarming the man is.

When the door opens again, both of you are consumed enough in the music that it doesn’t faze you much.

“Oh, hey Elvis! Just the man I needed to see. I hope y/n isn’t bothering you,” Billy says, in a teasing tone only a family member could produce.

“Hello to you, too, Billy,” you say, a bit annoyed at the interruption and at feeling put in your place as if you were still a child.

“Oh, no, not at all. She’s a great teacher,” Elvis grins, bumping your shoulder. “You two…know each other?” he then asks, his smile faltering in the slightest as he looks from you to Billy. The question is innocent enough, but the way he says it gives you pause and your heart flips.

“Since she was practically in diapers. She’s my sister-in-law,” Billy says.

“Twelve isn’t in diapers, Billy,” you scoff at him, then turn to Elvis. “He’s married to my older sister yet has never hesitated to treat me like a baby. Lucky me.”

“Aw, you know I only put up with you because you’re too talented for your own good,” Billy ribs, making to muss your hair.

You duck swiftly out of the way, bumping into Elvis in the process. “Oh, sorry!” you breath out.

Elvis just chuckles at the two of you, looking pleased as punch, though you’re not exactly sure why.

“I think what you meant to say is, ‘Thank you for dropping everything to fly across the country last minute to help me, dearest sister-in-law,’” you throw at Billy, batting your lashes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it. Now, skedaddle. I need to talk to Elvis,” Billy shoos you.

You suppress the urge to stomp your foot and pout, but you realize you really should act more professional than you are. Settling for a huff at Billy, you turn to Elvis. “It was nice to meet you,” you say, all the spunkiness you had towards Billy deflating into shyness the moment you look into those dark blue eyes again.

“Oh, I have no doubt we’ll be talkin’ again soon, honey, and thank you for the lesson,” Elvis drawls softly.

His words send a cascade of shivers through your limbs. You feel heady as you stand from the bench, shooting a familial glare Billy’s way, noticing the frown on his face as you do so. God, even with you being 27, Billy had the ability to make you feel like a scolded younger sister.

You force yourself not to look back as you head to your chair. Be a professional. Just because Elvis is handsome doesn’t mean he’s not the man you’re ultimately working for. Busying yourself with rearranging your music, you hear Billy usher Elvis out and up into the booth.

Well, that’s that, you think, rosining your bow, and you get to practicing.

*

You’ve been at your share of long rehearsals, but you will admit this one is both long and intense. The music Billy has arranged—this “Guitar Man” medley of some of Elvis’ songs—isn’t difficult music to play, per say, but you can now sense an underlying importance around this entire operation. Part of it is the barely held back frantic look in Billy’s eyes, and knowing him as you do, for him to be this frazzled means there’s a lot on the line. However, it’s when Elvis comes back, much later, to run through the medley with the orchestra, that you realize you can sense it in him, too. It’s well-hidden, to be sure, when the man introduces himself and shakes hands with the members of the orchestra, and you probably wouldn’t even have noticed if it weren’t for the relaxed way he’d been with you earlier in the day, but it’s an undercurrent all the same. Then, they send him into the booth to do his thing.

And, boy, does he. You’ve worked your share of Broadway musicals and operas, but you’ve never seen a man completely give himself over to the work in just a rehearsal quite the way Elvis does with this medley. It’s like he’s singing for his life. By the time it’s all through, Elvis exits the booth, dripping with sweat, exhausted but exuberant. His eyes sparkle and his body hums, some part of him tapping or jiggling or wiggling every moment, as though the music had become electricity in his veins.

You try not to stare as you slowly put away your bow, your violin, collecting your music from the black stand. You try not to, but you keep stealing glances because not only does he look enticing, but it’s also more that you connect with the feelings he seems to be having. The way the music can just take over and become something else inside you, as if you are the conduit to something much bigger than yourself. This you understand. And you’d never imagined a sensation like Elvis Presley would feel the music that way, too. Perhaps this is the secret to his massive success.

Almost all the other musicians have packed and left by now. You tell yourself you’re stalling so you can say goodnight to Billy before hailing a cab and finally checking into your hotel by midnight. You are exhausted, after a day of traveling and frenetic rehearsal, yet you are buzzing with the excitement only music seems to bring you. And you can’t help that the part of you that feels that way is being drawn towards Elvis like a magnet.

When Elvis catches your less-than-sly stare, a million-dollar smile spreads over his face and your heart flip-flops in your chest so hard it takes your breath away. Caught, you quickly and conspicuously look up and away, as though that will save the burning embarrassment on your cheeks. Suddenly, all you can think of is how fast you can get out of here, and you finish packing up like a fire has been lit under you. You scurry towards the door, hoping to escape before making a fool of yourself further.

“Hey, Miss Moonlight,” Elvis says, fingers light on your arm, stopping you before you reach the door, “whaddya say you join us back at my place for a little get together?”

The nickname would usually make you roll your eyes, but coming from him so sweetly, you balk under the attention. It distracts you so much that it takes a full second to realize that he’s just invited you to his place.

“I…uh, it’s been a long day. I-I haven’t even checked into my hotel yet,” you stammer, the excuse so unconvincing you might laugh if you weren’t so befuddled and nervous that Elvis is asking you…well, you’re not exactly sure what he’s asking you.

He quirks a perfect raven brow at you. When he steps in closer, you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“Well, I can have Joe swing you by your hotel before headin’ over, if you’d like, though there’s plenty of space at the house. We can set up a room for ya…s’probably more comfortable than a hotel,” Elvis drawls quietly in your ear.

You’ve never heard a man make a pass so naturally in your life, so much so that you almost hesitate to believe it is one. His low voice and the open suggestiveness spear straight into your core, threatening to melt you into a puddle on the spot.

In any other circumstance, you would laugh in a man’s face for suggesting such a thing. Generally shy, reserved, and cerebral, you’re certainly not the kind of woman who just spends the night at a strange man’s place. But this isn’t any other circumstance. This is Elvis Presley asking you to stay the night with him.

And maybe he does just mean it casually—a “hey, come party with us and you can sleep on the couch”—but at the moment, your body doesn’t know the difference. Your inner pragmatist begins listing off all the ways this is a terrible idea, but the only thing that cuts through the noise is the regret you know you’ll feel if you don’t accept this invitation.

“Um…well, okay. I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose, of course,” you manage to breathe back.

His lip curves up into an almost bashful smile. “Oh, Moonlight, you couldn’t be an imposition if you tried. Plus, you hafta show me how to play the rest of that piece,” he says, running a calloused fingertip down your pointer finger.

You can’t help the shudder that runs through you or the way your heart catches in your throat. “Well, how could I possibly refuse?” you finally get out.

“Fantastic! Hey, Joe, this is my new friend, y/n,” he says enthusiastically, calling over the shorter man. “She’s gonna be joining us tonight.”

Joe seems kind enough, albeit barely looks or speaks to you after the main introductions. Before you know it, you, your violin, and your suitcase are packed into the back of what you assume is a ridiculously expensive vehicle. Elvis slides in behind you, and you, now sandwiched between him and the car door, think you ought to feel apprehensive about the situation, but all your attention is fixed on how Elvis’ side is pressed up against yours. The heat radiates off him, bleeding into you, his leg bouncing so quickly that you think he might need to get out and run laps. He makes conversation, asking about how you came to be a musician and you uncharacteristically and nervously start rambling about yourself. You’ve got to give him credit for the way he nods and hums, truly seeming to listen to you even though your mouth is running almost uncontrollably.

By the time you arrive at the house, you feel as if you’ve told Elvis your life story and you abruptly shutter your mouth closed. God, I am such an idiot. Way to play it cool, y/n, you berate yourself.

Elvis kindly helps you out of the car, walking you toward the house as Joe follows with your violin and suitcase in tow. The way your heart pounds against your ribcage threatens to do you in—it’s all suddenly become very real that Elvis Presley is leading you into his house where you are going to surreptitiously spend the night. His hand is guiding you so gently at the small of your back, but the heat of it blazes through you.

Oh, get a grip! The man has probably touched thousands of women, you’re no different. You’re not special.

Realizing you’re holding your breath, you force yourself to take in air as inconspicuously as possible.

“You don’t gotta be nervous, baby,” he says, a cheeky little smile gracing those luscious lips of his.

“Sorry, I…this just isn’t where I thought I’d be at the end of this very long day,” you chuckle.

“Well, let’s make you at home then.” His smile turns reassuring and warm.

He spends the next hour getting you comfortable and fed, having the most amazing ability to relax your normally nervous nature without hardly trying. You can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at the way he seems to be continuously touching you—the press of his leg, an arm around your shoulders, the graze of a finger against yours—in a familiar way, even though you’ve known him less than a day. If it were anyone else, you would have leapt off the couch and run for the hills.

What surprises you the most is that you aren’t uncomfortable at all. Excited and nervous, yes. But you don’t feel preyed upon or anything of the sort. Frankly, you are trying not to get ahead of yourself about what the rest of the night might bring.

An impromptu jam session with his old bandmates has you feeling even more surreal. If someone had told you yesterday that you would get a private concert with Elvis Presley and his former band, you would have laughed at them. You find yourself unable to take your eyes off him and how he seems to get completely lost in the music, and you right along with him. His gritty baritone combined with the sensual way he tackles each song has warmth pooling in your belly. Despite the cranked-up air conditioning, you find yourself sweating and parched, especially in the moments he smiles in your direction.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, only that you feel the heady exhaustion of being up too long coupled with an uncharacteristic hungry adrenaline running through your veins. When the jam session ends, you are both disappointed and exhilarated for what might come next.

Don’t get your hopes up, you remind yourself. This night has been amazing no matter what happens next.

“Did you enjoy that, Moonlight?” he leans over and whispers in your ear. It tickles you and sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod. “Oh, yes.” It comes out more breathless than you’d like.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “Are you up for teaching me more of that sonata, honey?” he asks. It’s an innocent enough request but you can’t tell exactly what his motivations are, though for the first time in your life, you’re not sure it matters.

“Of course,” you say quietly, starting for the piano in the corner of the living space.

His warm hand catches yours, and you look back, surprised, as he shakes his head and pulls you in the opposite direction.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage as he leads you down the hall and into what you assume is his private suite. It’s not until he closes the door and you realize that you are utterly alone with him that you feel a glimmer of trepidation.

It must read on your face because he jumps in to reassure you. “Oh, honey, I just want to get to know you better, away from the rest of them. I’d never hurt you or make you do anything you didn’t want to do. Honestly, I don’t want the other guys ribbing me…they don’t go for the classical stuff,” he says quietly, looking away, and you think there might be a little pink rising on his cheeks.

His sincerity is palpable, and you certainly never expected him to be bashful about playing classical music. There’s a softness to him now, almost a shyness, that wasn’t present moments ago around all his entourage. It is like a yearning for one-on-one connection, and this part of him melts all your reservations and tugs at your heartstrings.

“Well, I do…go for the classical stuff, I mean,” you say quietly. You smile and squeeze his hand reassuringly as his deep blue eyes find yours again.

He looks giddy as he leads you to the second piano in the house, a baby grand in the far corner of the large suite. You sit down, opening the lid, and he slides in beside you. The heat of him rolls around you, the smell of his cologne and a day’s worth of sweat combining into an alluring combination that perks up your senses.

“Show me what you remember,” you say, and he starts to play, long, nimble fingers gliding gracefully over the keys. It amazes you that he committed everything you showed him earlier to memory so fast and so accurately. Something about it tightens a coil low in your belly. Unsure whether it’s your attraction to him physically or musically that has you so aroused, you swallow hard as he finishes abruptly.

You shake it off as best you can as you show him more of the movement, hoping the music might quell the buzzing in your veins. You go through it a few times, getting a little lost in the notes, as you tend to do. It only serves to stoke the fire in you when he picks up what you’ve shown him so quickly.

He finishes a phrase, and you move to show him the next, but his hand suddenly covers yours. Surprised, you look over at him to find his oceanic eyes searching your face so intimately that warmth blooms across your chest and your breath catches in the silence.

Slowly, Elvis leans over, cups your cheek gently, and kisses you. It’s almost chaste the way his incredibly soft lips press into yours and your surprise is so great that by the time you register what is happening, he is already pulling away.

His eyes open slowly, those lashes fluttering along with the fluttering in your heart and belly. Shock has you outwardly frozen but it’s as if he lit every one of your nerve endings on fire with the touch of his lips.

He must register your surprise as hesitance because his gaze changes to something akin to apologetic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya. I shouldn’t’ve—”

Before he can get the rest of that sentence out, your body miraculously obeys you and you unfreeze. Boldly cupping his jaw with both hands, you pull him back to you and plant your lips on his.

It surprises both of you, and it’s a second before either of you relaxes into the kiss. This permission is all it takes, however, and then his mouth is languidly searching yours and his arms are wrapping around you to pull you close. Soft, short kisses alternate with longer more passionate ones, and you feel utterly spellbound by him, every inch of your body aware and alert to his.

Never in your life have you been kissed so well or so thoroughly. It’s as if the music in his soul must find a physical outlet, and the way he explores and opens you up to him is like him playing a new instrument. When his tongue rolls softly against your lower lip, you can’t suppress the low moan that comes out of you, causing you to open your mouth. He accepts the invitation readily, expertly, and the wet plushness of his tongue slowly begins exploring.

The warmth that sparkles and blooms across your chest travels lower still, sparking fires as it goes, until you feel your pulse throbbing between your legs. It’s nearly unbearable the way he stokes you without hardly trying. You’ve never felt so aroused so quickly or so completely.

Your eagerness is impossible to contain, your fingers buried in that luxuriously soft hair at the base of his neck, your body rolling towards his of its own accord, as if magnetized. You follow his rhythm, meeting his music with your own.

When he pulls back to trail kisses down your jaw, you are left breathless and clutching the lapels of his half-unbuttoned shirt. The nuzzle of his nose on your cheek as he finds and licks the tender spot behind your ear leaves you gasping. Pleased, he does it again and your entire body shudders.

Every inch of you yearns to be consumed by him. It’s never felt like this, not with any man you’ve been with. Those were fumbling amateurs playing one handed melodies in comparison to the symphony Elvis is invoking. While he is leading and in control, you sense as much eagerness from him as there is in you. It’s reassuring and flattering all at once.

There is an embarrassing amount of slick between your legs already, soaking the cotton of your panties and leaving you clenching your thighs together in search of friction. He must notice this as he kisses down your throat and across your décolletage because then he’s looking up at you for permission with those pink, swollen lips and dreamy bedroom eyes.

It’s unspoken, but you nod and he continues his sweet journey, one hand deftly unzipping the back of your dress while his lips follow gravity as it slips down your arms and reveals your chest. Pushing the fabric off and to your waist, his hand is then hot against your bare stomach. He hums in approval when his mouth finds the swell of your breasts that spill from your simple, beige bra.

A low whine escapes you. His apt response is to thumb your nipple to attention through the thin satin before lapping at the bud with his tongue. The result is a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your core, sending you clutching his neck and writhing against him. Expertly, he undoes the clasp in the back and abandons your bra to the floor in what must be a well-practiced motion based on the speed of it.

Goosebumps rise across your now fully exposed flesh, both from the cool air in the room and the way his fingers brush so lightly over your breasts. He seems pleased with the way your nipples stand at attention under his heated gaze. You don’t have the wherewithal to feel your usual self-consciousness; instead, the sight of his pupils blown black with arousal has you shivering with nothing but anticipation.

The combination of the way his tongue darts between his lips as he lightly pinches the hardened buds has you begging for more. “Please,” you moan and that’s all it takes before he’s lathing his tongue over and around the sensitive nubs, palming the fullness of your breasts. You can hardly stand it, how everything he does makes your body sing and want to scream his praises.

A quizzical look crosses your features though when he stops his ministrations and slides to his knees on the carpet on his side of the bench. For a second you are worried something you’ve done something to hurt or displease him, but when he beckons you towards him at the end of the bench with such arousal in his eyes it nearly knocks you over, you obey without a thought.

Elvis scoots you forward and kisses your belly, sending a new wave of tingles over you. He removes one of your low-heeled pumps and then the other, ghosting kisses along your ankles before running his large hands up the smoothness of your pantyhose, pushing your dress up with them. As if under a spell, you can’t help the way your legs fall open for him when his thumbs drag up the insides of your thighs. The little coy smirk that graces that beautiful face when he feels the damp that has soaked through to the gusset of your hose has your cheeks flushing and your lips parting.

You can’t bring yourself to be too embarrassed at how wet you are because the pleased look on his face at the discovery makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. He pulls on the waistband, forcing you to lift your hips, before gently rolling the hose down your legs until they are off and discarded on the floor.

What you don’t expect is how he begins peppering soft kisses up your now bare calves, at the inside of your knees, and then up your inner thighs.

A swell of panic hits the farther up he goes, and you jerk up, unsure of what exactly he’s meaning to do. The men you’d been with in the past had been rather direct about the whole thing—once the clothes were off, they buried their pecker inside you and thrust above you, all with varying levels of success in getting you off as they did so.

But not a single one had kissed up your thighs and spread them open with a hungry and expectant look like the one Elvis had now.

Looking down at him, confused, you ask, “What are you doing?” in a voice that is a little too apprehensive for your liking, but you need to know.

He cocks his head at you a moment, as if trying to determine your level of seriousness. Then his eyes shine with understanding and in that low, Southern drawl of his says the downright naughtiest thing you’ve ever had a man say to you: “You ain’t never had a man take good care of your kitty before, have ya? Give her all the love and attention she deserves?” He runs a fingertip lightly over the wet cotton at your center and you shiver.

He can’t possibly mean what you think he means.

You must be gaping because he rises on his knees and catches your lips with his own before breathing, “Close that pretty mouth baby or you’re liable to catch flies up in there.”

You are speechless, unable to form words, but the question is written all over your face.

He leans back on his knees with a contemplative smile. “That sweet little kitty of yours ain’t never been eaten, has she, baby?”

Oh my god.

It’s all you can do to bite back a moan and shake your head at him.

He looks positively gleeful about this development, his shining eyes taking on a whole new level of arousal. Then he seems to notice your trepidation and reigns himself in.

“That okay with you, baby?” he asks.

You had never even considered it an option before, or that a man might like to do such a thing. Maybe he’s teasing you? Suddenly you feel very conscious of the mechanics of the act and breathlessly mumble, “You don’t…you’re sure?”

“Oh, I am.” The smile of anticipation on his face seems to echo the sentiment.

The enticing thought of that beautiful mouth of his being down there on you outweighs your uncertainty and prudishness. You nod your head. “O-Okay.”

You’ve never seen a man look so thrilled at the thought of being between your legs as Elvis Presley is. “Don’tcha worry, I’m gonna take real good care of ya,” he says comfortingly. “You just lie back and relax and let me make you feel good, honey.” Then he places a kiss just under the waistband of your panties and you let out a little sigh.

The piano bench feels slightly warm on you bare back as you lay down. Elvis, grabbing under your thighs, pulls you to the edge, and your heart resumes its pounding. You truly can’t believe any of this is about to happen and steel yourself for him to rip off your underwear and go to town.

But he doesn’t.

No, he takes his time warming you up, as if he’s trying to get you used to the idea. He kisses down one hip then trails down the panty line. You tense the closer he gets to your core but then he only ghosts a breath over it before jumping to the other leg and kisses up the crease on that side. The ticklish sensation is almost too much to bear as he works his way up to the waistband again.

You are panting by the time his mouth is grazing from your belly button downwards, pressing into the soft curls beneath the fabric. He stops just short of that forbidden little spot where your aching clit resides, and you push up on your elbows to shoot him a look.

A grin spreads over his features, his eyes narrowed like a crocodile’s and full of desire and he watches you intently as he finally places a light kiss over that sensitive little button.

The sensation is nothing like anything you’ve felt before and the whole scene has your body flaming white hot. You don’t recognize the low mewl that erupts from your lips and the only thing keeping you from throwing your head back is the way his eyes are locked on yours, as if feeding off your reaction. Then he uses his perfect nose to nuzzle into it before placing a firmer kiss there.

“Elvissss,” you whine, unable to keep from throwing your head back this time.

“You like that, baby? I barely even started,” he speaks, his hot breath puffing over the slicked core of your panties. He kisses down, down until over your entrance, where he then tongues the fabric, pressing it up and into you.

“Honey, you’ve done soaked right through,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure if he’s speaking to you or directly to your pussy. You’re not sure you care for the way you moan, the way your body shudders and writhes, suddenly starving for anything he’s willing to give.

“Lemme see how pretty she is,” he says, and God, if his filthy yet somehow sweet words aren’t stroking you in such a way that you wonder if you could come from his lilting voice alone. He pulls your underwear to the side, finally baring yourself to him, and he whistles.

“Just lovely, and all weepy for me, too,” he says, voice thick with lust now.

The anticipation has your heart racing and your fingers clawing at the wooden bench with a whimper.

“Okay, baby, I hear ya,” he murmurs kindly, then hooks his fingers in the sides of your panties and finally slides them down and off your legs. Then his hands are pushing them apart and his tongue is lightly skimming up your folds.

You gasp at the soft and silky feeling, unready even despite his preparations. When he circles your clit and then kisses it, bare this time, you are so aroused you’re afraid you might weep. But the teasing is done, and he tests you expertly. His tongue flattens and takes in the full breadth of you, licking a stripe up your pussy that sends your hips rolling.

He seems to gauge every reaction carefully, giving equal and alternating attention to every piece of you. Nipping, suckling, and kissing your swollen clit into submission and just when you think that heated coil in your belly might snap you in two, he moves down and kisses through your folds. When he laps at the arousal dripping from your tight little hole, tongues it, and then plunges it inside of you, you find yourself screaming out his name.

You can feel him smile and hum at your response, the vibrations adding entirely new sensations to the slew of new sensations you are feeling. He thumbs at your clit as he laps at your hole, and you think you might hyperventilate with how fast you’re breathing and how hot you feel.

So completely attuned to you, he pulls back and gives you a break, despite your whimpering protests. His full lips are swollen pink and slick down to his chin with you, and when his lip curls up into a knowing but almost bashful smile, you think this might be the eighth wonder of the world.

“You alright? I’m doin’ okay?” he asks, his left eyebrow quirking.

You giggle, almost drunkenly even though you’re entirely sober, because the question is so absurd but sweet of him. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say, words slurring.

“Okay, good,” he says, nodding. Then he rises on up on his knees and commands you forward with a come-hither motion so deft and quick, it has you drooling.

You are powerless to resist and push your dazed self to your elbows on the bench. He meets you halfway, kissing you deeply, lewdly letting you taste the tang of yourself on his lips. Distracted as you are by his wandering mouth, you aren’t ready for the way he slides two of those perfectly long musician’s fingers up through your silky folds and deep into your wet heat.

A shocked gasp quickly turns into a moan that he swallows with another kiss. He begins ever-so-slowly pumping those fingers into you and the rough pad of his thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves at the hood of your sex.

“Goddamn, you’re so perfect, so tight,” he breathes into your mouth.

You can’t stop the shiver that ripples through you. “I-It’s been a-awhile,” you pant. You can’t help but look down and watch the way he works you.

“Don’t you worry, baby. I gotchu,” he purrs, then curves his fingers just so and the pleasure that courses through you has you crying out.

Your brain is fuzzy, with only one thing on its mind. Luckily, Elvis seems to be reading it because he smiles that coy smile and returns those full lips of his to your clit.

For a moment you think you might die from the intensity of the sensations he’s procuring from you. Seems an awful lot like God gave him long fingers and a full mouth not only for music, you think. Though the way he’s playing you right now and the noises he’s coaxing out of you makes it seem like a whole different type of song he’s expert at.

The way he traces and flicks and suckles your clit, coupled with the obscene sounds coming from the way he’s fingering your pussy has you writhing on the bench and gripping his beautiful hair in your hands.

More, more, more, is the only thought left.

He hums against you with one last kiss and a wildly accurate thrust and curve of his fingers. The coil inside you explodes, then white-hot, full-body shudders violently overtake you as you silently scream and hold onto him for dear life as to not fly away into the stratosphere.

Your orgasm is utterly mind altering and earth shattering.

“Good job, lil’ girl,” Elvis coos, soothing you through the aftershocks with a lathing tongue.

You can’t think straight enough to respond, only whimpering from the empty feeling when he removes his fingers, then gasping again when he laps at the arousal pouring out of your core.

It’s all too much, and, overstimulated, you whine and clench and pull at him.

He sits up again, between your legs, looking mighty pleased with himself. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he says, pulling you up by your arms and sliding you onto his lap. Boneless and naked (save for the dress bunched in a ring around your waist), your legs fall open, easily straddling his hips. Your hands grip at his shirt and you bury your head into his neck, still dizzy with release.

He holds you steady. “Didja like that? Your kitty all happy and purrin’ now?” he whispers in your ear, sending a new set of shivers down your spine. All you can manage is a pleased hum and a nod. You kiss his neck, tasting salt on his tanned skin.

A soft moan escapes his lips at that. Suddenly, you become quite aware of the hardness in his slacks, pressing up near your swollen folds. The embers of your arousal have not died, and you kiss his neck again while slowly rolling your hips into his.

Groaning, he tightens his arms around you, holding you to him. You nip at the throbbing pulse point on his neck and are reminded just how talented and famous these hips of his are when he rolls them back into you in response. He’s rock hard, straining against his zipper, the tip of him bumping against your sensitive clit. You moan and find his rhythm, feeling the wetness between your thighs start to soak through the fabric of his slacks, creating a delicious friction.

Elvis pants heavily in your ear, murmuring curses and praises as he grinds into you. At this rate, you think he might come in his pants, which just won’t do. Not with the way your pussy is buzzing, and that coil is tightening again in your belly. No, you need him inside you. You need him to fill you.

You use what little returning strength you have and rise on your knees, away from his needy cock. The man actually pouts, his lower lip jutting out with a desperate little whine and it is so alluring you almost forget what you’re trying to do. You place a finger over his lips to quiet him, then set to the task of trying to undo his lavish belt and zipper.

Once he understands, he races to help, making much quicker work of the whole thing and finally his cock springs free. It’s quite long, and the deep pink tip peeking out of his silky foreskin is already shiny and weeping with precum. Of its own accord, your finger slides over his slit, circling the slick tip and spreading the wetness gathered there. He hisses. You bring your finger to your mouth, tasting the salty musk of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, his hand palming his length. He gives it a pointed tug, then another, his lips falling open as he watches you.

He’s gorgeous in every way and it’s almost intimidating the way he looks at you with such open and vulnerable lust. You can’t bring yourself hold back or tease any longer, needing desperately to give him all of you, to give him what he needs. Hovering over him, you help line him up, then slowly descend onto his cock.

You are plenty wet—he’s seen to that—but even still, the stretch of him burns. It’s been too long since a man has been inside you like this and he is much longer than you anticipated.

A quiet, “Oh, oh, oh,” is all you manage to puff out as you bob slightly up and down, taking a little bit more of him with each tiny pump. He presses gentle kisses everywhere he can reach and murmurs encouraging praises with each inch that you conquer.

By the time you settle on the hilt of him, snug in his lap, you’re both groaning. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders because you are so full of him you don’t know what to do. You’ve never been so gorged and the pressure is a little frightening.

“Snug as a bug in a rug,” he slurs happily, letting you adjust around him. “Little Elvis likes you lots and lots, baby. S’like you were made just for him.”

“Little Elvis? H-He’s not so little,” you say with wide eyes, then giggle a little, which causes you to gasp from the tightness below and how it makes you clench even harder around him.

He groans. “If ya keep doing that, he’s not gonna last very long, darlin’.”

You try to move, but in this position and after that orgasm, you feel weak and a little like he’s spearing you in two. You’re almost too full, and the angle is not quite right. You wiggle in his lap, your brow furrowed, as your arms grow tighter around his neck. A low whine escapes your throat.

He notices your distress. Petting your hair, he babytalks at you, which under other circumstances might be strange for a grown man, but it comes so naturally to him somehow it both comforts and arouses you, “Oh, shh, shh, baby, s’okay. He’s a widdle much for ya, ain’t he? Sometimes he gets too ‘cited and gets ahead of ‘imself. But he’s gonna take real good care of ya, I promise.”

And with that, he gingerly shifts sideways, leans forward, and lays you down on the plush carpet under the piano. The movement has him sliding partially out of you, giving you some relief from the bursting sensation, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. Your body relaxes.

He looks so gorgeous above you, with his raven hair falling in his eyes and a soft, bashful smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“That better?” he asks.

You nod.

Leaning down, he nuzzles your nose, then places soft kisses on your mouth. He coaxes you back to him, the heat building between you with each deepening kiss. So focused on the rolling of his tongue against yours, you don’t even realize he’s pressing deeper into you until he’s nestled almost completely, but much more comfortably between your legs.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth. The pressure still has you feeling full, but in a delicious, silky way this time as you finally relax around him. He rolls his hips smoothly, the strokes slow and deliberate, in time with the movement of his lips. Each stroke is better than the last as your increased arousal combined with his own slickens your inner walls.

“There she is,” he moans quietly into the crook of your neck.

That feeling is back, a chant of want, want, want running through your brain as the tension and fire in your belly begin to grow once more. When he bottoms out this time, your punctuated, “Ah!” is from pleasure and not discomfort. He’s managing to hit places inside you that you didn’t know existed.

You writhe under him, starting to meet his thrusts with your own, trying as you might to find that perfect spot he keeps slipping past. If only you had the right leverage…

It comes to you once you’ve hitched your legs up around his svelte waist. You lift your hips and plant your bare feet against the grainy wooden underside of the piano, meeting his next thrust with your leveraged one. It sends him deeper, driving into that little spot just perfectly. You keen.

“Oh, goddamn,” he moans along with you.

Each thrust seems deeper than the last with your legs pressing up like this. They shake from the exertion, but it’s worth every ounce of effort for the way you feel driven into the earth by his cock. Sweat drips off his face and onto yours as he showers your body with pleasure you didn’t know existed.

He thumbs your clit, timed perfectly with the piston of his hips, and you can barely breathe at the sensation. Gasping, your entire body shudders of its own accord as you hurtle towards another release.

“I…I…I…” is all you can seem to manage as your second climax starts to crest, and he grunts with effort above you, his eyes glassy with unbridled desire.

He mutters a string sweet filth that only fuels you forward, slurring and panting, “Oh, fuck, yes…such a good yittle kitty…good girl for me…look atchu taking ‘im so deep…never been s’deep…Jesus, I can see ‘im in your belly.”

You both look at the swell of your abdomen on the next thrust and this time he holds you flush against him so you can see the tip of Little Elvis bulge out the slightest bit. The moan you let out is obscene. Holding you at the waist, he doesn’t let your hips down, instead running the palm of his hand over the protrusion while he flicks your clit furiously. Then he presses down at the same time he thrusts as hard and as deep as possible.

Your climax hits so hard and so fast that it knocks the breath out of you, leaving you gasping his name, “Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!” Flaming white stars flash behind your eyelids as you flutter and clench around his length. Molten fire spreads from your core outward. You shudder and claw at him, at the bottom of the piano, at anything that will keep you tethered to reality while the rest of you shatters into a million pieces beneath him.

“Good girl, s’good fo’me,” he praises you through it, losing himself to you as you come apart.

You feel his hips start to stutter into you again because a primal need has him beyond the point of waiting any longer. Somehow, through shivering aftershocks, you have the wherewithal to force your eyes open, even as the rest of your body goes slack. He looks like Adonis in the throes of passion, his full and swollen lips falling open. In one fell swoop, he drops your hips and pulls his considerable length from you, his knowing hand pumping his slick-covered cock with expert precision.

Watching him come is a marvel and you make yourself commit this moment to memory, knowing it will fuel your arousal for years to come. He tenses above you, those sapphire eyes fluttering closed. Shivering tension ripples over him with a choked cry and through gritted teeth. Thick and warm white ropes erupt and splatter over your torso and you moan along with him. Then his eyes pop open pointedly as he watches himself cover you with his seed. The poignant, dramatic end of a brilliant symphony.

“F-fuck,” he pants, finishing off with another shiver. Exhausted, he catches himself just before crushing you with his weight, instead pressing his sweaty brow into yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingle as you both try to come back down to Earth. He nuzzles his nose into yours before kissing your cheeks and your mouth.

Eventually, you find your words. “That was…incredible,” you say breathlessly, with no exaggeration.

He pulls back to look at you, with a goofy, pleased grin. “I told you I’d take care of you, Moonlight. And boy oh boy, was that a neat trick with the piano there…that part of your classical trainin’?” he says, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Putting that college degree to good use,” you say with a giggle.

His eyes go wide and then he laughs—a musical, beautiful, contagious sound—which fills your heart up in a way you don’t quite understand.

He crawls back and helps you out from under the piano. Your back is rubbed raw from the carpet, which he kisses gently with apology, but you barely feel the sting. You are too dazed and relaxed to worry about much of anything.

When he helps clean you up and pulls you into his big bed, slotting you in next to him, you want to savor every minute. How he smells delicious and masculine, how the heat of his long body envelops your own—you want to remember everything.

Exhausted, you fall fast asleep, sated and cared for, knowing that you’ll never, ever be the same.

*

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[demvalhaken]

I will eat your house

HOLY SHIT I HAVENT POSTED IN LIKE 4 DAYS, SORYY GUYS IVE BEEN FOCUSED ON SCHOOL, I HAVE TO GET A VIOLIN PLAYING VIDEO IN BY FRIDAY AND I CANT EVEN PLAY THAT WELL DUDES!!! PRAY FOR ME GUYS, I CANT EVEN GET MY HOMEWORK DONE, I NEED TO STOP PROCRASTINATING!!!

Anyways Queen Bloodlust is a very large black widow cus her immortality causes her to never stop aging/growing… She used to be Divine’s height

Oh yeah if you didn’t read the older post about Bloodlust which is also buried in the termite post. Divine (Guy at the bottom right) is her great-great-great-fucking too many great grandson, he’s king of the spiders, they do not care if its a king or a queen, they are desperate

I’m like the hugest nerd ever, I watched an in depth video about cannibalism and then I proceeded to eat all of that information so I can babble to my friends that don’t even listen to me… I wish I could talk to people rather than somehow ruining my relationship with everyone, it’s giving Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives. There’s also like 100 Tyler, The Creator songs in my playlist, there’s a 50% chance after every song that it’s Tyler. It’s crazy how good I am at being lonely, like bro, why can’t I keep friends with me without doing something wrong… at least my teachers are nice to me :D

Wtf am I on, please don’t give me coffee, It brings the locked up depression out of my brain. I actually don’t think the depression left from Covid… I think it’s just been dormant… GUYS THIS MIGHT BE A HUNCH BUT I THINK IM NOT OKAY!!! Sorry if I go off track in literally every single post, my brain wanders too much. MY HANDS ARE SO FUCKING DRY, THEY BURN, THEY HURT, AND THEY ARE BLEEDING :( I’m still gonna wash my hands 40 times a day, no one can stop me

STOP YAPPING BRO THATS TWO PARAGRAPHS GET TO THE LORE

Queen Bloodlust misses her home because after a battle/war, they had to move, this was during the reign of Bloodlust’s mother, her mom died in the fight… poor Bloodlust, forced to live eternally and watch everyone around her perish slowly

All lore previously stated is subject to change as I’m always rethinking lore but it does stay fairly consistent and rarely changed unless its boring and bothering me

Okay love you guys, sorry for yapping, also be a menace to society, just don’t eat uranium

Edit:

Hehe reference, this was during the drawing, I got bored

Edit 2: Why are my parents always mad at me for washing myself constantly, like bitch what? You can’t just say “stop” and expect that one word to work, I’m just trying to keep some goddamn cleanliness! It’s like they want me to be covered in grime, dirt, spilled drinks, and grossness! Then they get to be homophobic and racist without any consequences when that’s literally worse than being clean 24/7 and tired. At least I actually like black people, we literally all have the same insides, stfu parents… ALSO THEY SAY THAT OFFENSIVE WORD, LIKE BRO WE ARE VAMPIRES YOU CANT BE SAYING THAT

[autumnoakes]

oh boy. i have not done this at all this year partly because a) i thought it was an art/creative challenge and i didn't have the mental capacity for it and b) i forgor 💀 so! i'm gonna do all of the days right now because. of reasons (the reason being that i have the energy right now right now) (by @autiebiographical )

autism plus - i think this is about comorbidities? i have an ADHD diagnosis and i'm working on an hEDS diagnosis as well. i'm also pretty sure i have OCD and anxiety in general tbh

infinite - i'm not too sure how to answer this one? sorry

audhd - THATS ME!!!!! it makes for some interesting times because i have and will eaten a food for weeks on end until getting physically sick of it or listened to the same song until i can't stand it or played the same video game until its boring (hello 800 hours in breath of the wild). usually if i take a break from it, then it gets better and i can enjoy it again.

music - music is actually one of my biggest stims! a lot of my life revolves around music. both sides of my family were/are musicians and i grew up surrounded by it. i'm always listening to music out in public. i really want to get back into it (i used to play violin before the pandemic but started working right as it started and ran out of time and motivation between work and school)

verbose - irl i'm not very articulate. i think sometimes i'm able to be over text where i can delete things and take time to think about what i'm going to say without it being awkward. in real life though, i'm always fumbling over my words and taking way too long trying to figure out how to form the words i want to say next. it's annoying :/

individuals - not too sure how to approach this one either? so loose interpretation. i know many other autistic people both online and irl, and we're all really different. sometimes i get along with them, sometimes i don't. same with allistic or neurotypical people.

neuroscope - i think when i saw this it was about being able to tell when others are also neurodiverse? i'm pretty good at this but i'm also really good at hiding my own neurodiversity (but getting worse at it actually). i know a lot of people who i watch and go "hm" (because people watching is something i enjoy /genuine) but i wouldn't tell someone out of the blue that i think they're autistic

non-speaking - i am fully verbal, and i live with two other autistic people. one is nonverbal and he is an important person in my life. my experience with life is very different though, so i don't have very much to say about this.

community - i've found that most of the autistic community, like a lot of disabled communities, are online which is great! however i do also think it has its drawbacks because the internet can be an echo chamber and i think there's a reason why a lot of people on tumblr especially are neurodiverse.

self-advocacy - oh boy, i'm still learning this. it's difficult to know when to stand up for yourself and how, let alone really draining. at least, for me it is. mostly because having to do so sparks deep anxiety and i find i just can't do it. i don't tell many people that i'm autistic at all

unlearning ableism - another one that's a long time work in progress. it's so difficult to unlearn ideas that you've been around your entire life and grew up learning, but it's necessary to create a welcoming community. i know a lot of people struggle with internalized ableism, myself included. although i have been able (been forced to, actually) take a step back from my responsibilities and focus on creating schedules that work for me instead of trying to do as much as possible all at once.

differently wired - yeah, my brain very much does work differently. i've had a lot of people (including other autistic people) think i'm weird and tell me so because i want to do something a certain way and i don't want to change it. i'm developing a theory that autism isn't JUST neurodevelopmental, but a lot more than that, considering the number of comorbidities that occur alongside autism.

vivid imaginations - i don't have maladaptive daydreams, but i daydream a lot. ironically, i also have aphantasia, so it kinda plays out as a book/audio recording with some vague shapes acting as the people. i love listening to music on the bus for this exact reason. i often daydream scenarios relating to a special interest or hyperfixation.

hyperfixations - SPEAKING OF. people who follow me will know i've been going feral about hades 2 for months and months (i love the narrative choices they've made with the main character, melinoë, and she's one of my favourite characters in general). i've also been hyperfixating on resident evil (games only) for almost 2 months now. i finished re4 remake last week and started playing re2 a couple days ago. re4 remake specifically is one of my favourite games because i love how they wrote the characters and i love the attention to detail in that game (i'm actually still playing it akdjskdn i got the DLC and i love playing as ada)

pebbling - i have an idea of what this means but i don't know if i do it?

autistic pride - i don't have a lot of it. i want to, but sometimes it's really difficult for me to find pride in being autistic. a lot of it is related to internalized ableism.

repetition - oh i am always repeating. i was told during my autism assessment that i always wear the same clothes which i never really thought i did before remembering that i wore basically the exact same outfit more days than not for like 2 years when i was a kid. same goes for food - i like eating familiar foods and meals and i don't like changing it up or trying new foods. i also do this thing where i repeat what i just said under my breath (pallilalia!) and people notice this but i've only gotten a handful of comments on it

self-regulating - i'm bad at regulating emotions actually or even identifying them sometimes. i've had it where i've gone from being really angry and just wanting people to face consequences for their actions -> having a meltdown. i can't often tell when a meltdown is coming and it's really embarrassing for me to have one.

comfort items - i have a lot of them. i always go out with two fidget toys in particular and my noise cancelling headphones. i have two necklaces i wear everywhere. i have a pile of stuffies on my bed.

executive dysfunction - mine takes the form of mostly being unable to finish tasks, being unable to switch between tasks, or being unable to stay on one task. i don't usually experience trouble starting a new task, but sometimes i do. it's the finishing tasks that's a big one for me because eventually i hit a point when i'm like "okay, i'll finish this later" and then i never go back to it. so i've been trying my best to do things in one sitting, but sometimes it's not possible. i once submitted a half-written essay for a class because i hit that point and i would have failed otherwise.

queer - my identity is hugely shaped by being autistic as i've come to realize. i'm aroace and bisexual, in that i don't experience sexual/romantic attraction, but i'm open to dating others (and maybe having sex with the right person), and i don't exactly have a preference for who i'd do it with. i also think people are pretty. i'm also aplspec, which is to say i'm on the aplatonic spectrum and don't really feel the desire to make new friends. i still have favourite people though. my gender is weird but recently it switched over to trans guy but like nonbinary about it (demiboy?)

disabled - since i'm in uni right now, i can't work. fortunately i live at home and have minimal to no costs despite being 23. it's hard for me to frame this as a necessity for me personally and not a luxury. if i worked, i would have to give up getting my degree. i also have chronic pain and fatigue, which makes it difficult to walk long distances. i do take the bus and don't drive, which helps me stay somewhat active. even if i did drive, without a job no one will give me a car loan, so i'd be in the same spot anyways.

synesthesia - i don't experience this

genetic - i have a lot of family members who are also autistic/ADHD. my assessor did a bit of a family tree about it. the two autistic people i live with are my cousins. i also have another cousin and an aunt who are autistic, and i heavily suspect my maternal grandmother is autistic or ADHD. my dad has ADHD too.

pets - i have none and i'm sad about it. i'd like to have a cat, but that makes rent go up i think, and i'm not sure if we're allowed pets here. my last house was a strict no pets zone. i grew up with cats though, and they make me happy. big dogs scare me quite a bit, even if they're chill and even though they seem to like me (i'll still give them affection. they didn't do anything wrong)

fidgeting - mmmm i do this all the time. my assessor for ADHD put me down as inattentive type because he didn't see me fidgeting much, but my leg was going under the table for the entire assessment and he couldn't see. i also have been unmasking and found out that i am more combined type/hyperactive than previously thought. i don't stay still in chairs very much. i always have a fidget toy on me, too.

stimming - see above. i'm always stimming pretty much. right now.... well i kinda am actually. i'm under my weighted blanket.

safe foods - i like to eat sandwiches and wraps a lot. sometimes i like meat, rice, and some kind of sauce. i have a lot of safe foods but also a lot of unsafe foods and it can sometimes be hard knowing what is and isn't safe. i've had many times when i thought i liked something and then didn't touch it or took hours to eat it (without doing something else and forgetting its there)

empathy - this is weird for me. i don't know where my empathy is. i think it's on the lower side, but sometimes i get just really upset over my friends being upset. i want to help a lot but mostly it's so the issue will go away. it took a lot of effort to stop constantly checking vent channels in search of someone i can help.

accommodations - i use accommodations in my education. i only got them about two years ago when i was diagnosed with ADHD. i could have some for a job too when i get one, but i only got those in august with my autism diagnosis, so i didn't have them for when i was working a couple of years ago.

sensory euphoria - i get this most when listening to music. a couple of weeks ago i put on the totk soundtrack to do work to and was listening to the colgera fight music and was just in BLISS for a solid 10 minutes. i was stimming so much and humming and it was an indescribable feeling listening to that music, especially when the dragon roost island motif comes in.

[aachria]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH hi how are you!

I was rereading SSSBMTY for like the 10th time and Ive been dying to know that if Robin is really the only one who knows that Ed died somehow because bestie told her- but like did Robin take that seriously?? Did Robin hear “oh yeah I was the only one who died teehee” and took it in a “mental death” or a “physical death” way. If she took it in a mental perspective which I guess makes the most since does Robin realize the implications of Ed “dying” and somewhere in her head is super worried for Ed?

Some people in the story know about the “Buster Call” that TOTALLY (didn’t) happened but we’ve only really seen Robin, Zoro and Nami question it… I guess kinda Law with him comparing a Robin and Ed but not intense questioning. and now that Ed has done their screaming match with Kidd does Kidd and/or Killer have any suspicions of what they actually meant by being so connected to death???

AHHH ED YOUR KILLING ME NO PUN INTENDED?! I like death metaphors if you cannot tell- I want to squeeze you to get this information out.. is everyone just not questioning Ed’s weird background and possible death that they haven’t been super secret about?!?!

I wrote this while having a brain freeze bc of a smoothie

Reading SSSBMTY 10 times is crazy I hope you know that. I love you but I hope you know that.

When they're all on the Tower of Law Robin makes it clear she took it very metaphorical, like she interpreted that as Ed intentionally viewing the person they were before the 'Buster Call' as someone who was dead and gone and not who they were anymore. Honestly I think Robin took that and what Ed said after about them both belonging to the crew as Ed somehow just being better adjusted than her, which is fucking hilarious if you think about it.

I've always had the thought floating around that because Luffy got mad at Nami way back at the beginning when she tried to ask Ed about it she took that as 'no one ever ask Ed anything EVER' and has just instilled that idea whenever they get a new crewmate lmao. Like she sits them down and goes "Ok so Ed is weird and has terrible things in their past but Do Not Ask Questions if you think the dramatic violin music will start playing, ok?" even if that's Not the Case.

That isn't confirmed canon I'm just putting that out there. You gotta wait and see if I write that into the story lmao.

Tbh Zoro doesn't give a shit about whatever happened to Ed because he thinks they've got — if not a good handle on it — at least a decent ability to see help/comfort when they need to. His ass has seen them cope worse with things that actively happen around them then whatever was going on with the 'Buster call,' and is content to leave it alone unless Ed directly asks him for help. (Which is also very funny if you think about Ed's 'if you ask I will tell you EVERYTHING' policy.)

Now with Kid and Killer it's more so they have no idea what is up with this weird little guy but it seems like they've got some, uh, ISSUES with the people around them or they themselves being hurt/killed by someone with a dream and no regard for casualties. Wonder how that will develop if they hear about the 'Buster Call' thing or any other weird rumor they might have accidentally sent floating around.

Overall Ed speaks in weird backwards metaphors enough there's a chance no one has ever taken a single word they've said at face value, so.... yeah.

I hope your brain is ok xoxo

[mirkwoodshewolf]

No following; Planet of the apes fanfic Chap. 5

*Author's note*

And here we go with the start of even more family drama happening with the Rodman family. And we are also getting closer to ending ROTPOTA story line, the next chapter will be the last one for the first book before going into book two which takes place during DAWN. So get ready for that and be on the lookout for that. Until then continue to enjoy my lovely readers.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

____________________________________________________

Life went on as expected.  I graduated high school, got my diploma and performed my last show with the Community center.  But even though life outside the Rodman house was normal, on the inside there was a dark cloud constantly hovering over us.

My grandpa’s health was rapidly deteriorating day by day.  Now he hardly ever moved, nor did he speak.  All he did was just lay in bed or sit on it if Will wanted him to at least be out of bed.  Will had thrown himself not only into his work but also trying to find a way to bring Caesar back home.  Caroline’s tried to be there for Will but truthfully what could she do to help?  

As for me, well—there are days when I just spend most of my time in Caesar’s room, preserving all of this things just the way they were.  I’d look at all the old drawings he did when he was just a young chimp, the models he’s built and puzzles he’s completed.  I’d even play some of his favorite movie soundtracks he’d come to love thanks to me.

Even though Uncle Will and Caroline said to me that we’d be allowed visitation rights to Caesar, we just had to call in advance before we could.  And it couldn’t be more than one visit a month.  That alone wasn’t good enough for me, I’d be leaving by mid-August and then who knows what could happen to him by then.

He could be put down, sent to an even worse facility, I don’t know.  I began doing some research on the San Bruno facility and as I expected there wasn’t much to go by.  Nothing but the smoke and mirrors of them providing ‘enrichment and quality integration with other chimps’.  I then went into my contacts and called up one of my friends who once worked for the school yearbook.

“Hey Doe, listen do you still have that camera I gave you for your birthday last year? Oh nothing’s wrong I just need to borrow it for a little bit, is that alright? Great, thanks. Yeah, yeah that’ll work. Okay see yah tomorrow. Bye girl, and thanks again. Kiss, kiss.” I hung up and turned to an old photo that Will made for Caesar.

It was the two of us together on his 3rd birthday just after I had performed E.T’s flight for him.  My violin bow in hand with Caesar and I leaning against the other and him holding my violin carefully in his.

“I promised I’d never let anything happen to you, and I failed you little brother. But I’m not gonna fail you again.” My plan forming carefully in my head.

The next day I met my friend Dorinda at her aunt’s cat café and she gave me the camera I had given her for her 17th birthday.  A 4K megapixel digital camera.  Doe was always into photography which is why all her pictures were the best ones in the school yearbook.  And like me, she’s getting a scholarship all the way in New York for Journalism with a focus in principle photography.

I promised to bring the camera back before she left for New York in two weeks to start moving into her new apartment her dad had found for her (her parents had gotten divorced during our sophomore year).  I then rode on my motorbike towards San Bruno’s primate shelter.

Once I got there, I was careful not to drive up to the gate, instead I found an old abandoned building that was fairly close to the shelter and snuck inside of it.  I climbed up the stairs until I reached a good window that happened to look down at the sanctuary.

I turned on the camera and looked through the lens screen and saw the full 4k HD picture of the San Bruno Primate shelter.  I hit the zoom button and low and behold I managed to actually see the security building and saw two men.  One was a blonde haired boy who could’ve been ten years older than me, or maybe around my uncle’s age.  And the other one was a dark-haired man about the same age, maybe a few years older than the blonde haired boy.

“What I wouldn’t give to have some audio recording gear right about now.” I muttered to myself as I slowly look around the security building.

After a few minutes of nothing but seeing the two of them arguing, or more like the blonde one bullying the dark-haired man, I soon heard the sounds of a car pulling up.  Without hesitation, the gates opened up and the car pulled in.  I was beginning to think this could be another employers car or even the manager who runs the shelter, but the second I heard the frantic honks and faint sounds of cheering, I knew this wasn’t the case.

Soon enough two girls and another boy came out of the car and were waving around bottles of beer.  I smirked and began snapping the pictures of them.  The blonde boy coming out and greeting whom I assumed were his friends, and him letting them inside the shelter.  I also made sure to get good pictures of the beer his buddy brought.  Smirking I looked down at the camera and said.

“Gotcha.” I raced out of the building and headed back towards my bike. Quick as I could, I drove off to the closest Walmart and went over to the tech department to get the photos developed.  After waiting about 20-25 minutes, the clerk handed me the photos and I thanked him before heading out.

I packed up everything I was going to need tomorrow when I heard a knock at my door.  I jumped slightly but relaxed once I saw that it was uncle Will.

“I just got off the phone with the sanctuary, your visitation tomorrow has been approved.”

“Thanks Will.” I said.

“Now you sure you don’t need me to come with you. I know that things have been—delicate for you lately since Caesar was……”

“I’ll be fine uncle Will. Who knows, maybe seeing him and knowing that he’s alright will put me at ease.”

“You know I’m doing everything I can to get him back, right?”

“I know you are. Believe me, I know.” I walked up to him and embraced him.  “You’ve always tried to be so strong. It’s okay to need help.” I heard him sniffle before he separated from me and he said.

“You might wanna get some sleep. They told me they’re expecting you at 10am sharp.” Without another word, he left my room and I let out a deep sigh.  I got into bed and soon fell asleep after setting my alarm.

Bright and early the next morning, I got up, got dressed, had my breakfast and took off towards the San Bruno primate shelter before the summer morning traffic could hit.  This time I came straight to the gate and after showing my electronic approval to the dark-haired employer, he let me in and escorted me inside.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Pardon?” he asked nervously.

“I asked you for your name.” I asked him again.

“R-Rodney.” He replied.

“Pleasure to meet you Rodney, I’m Lin. Lin Rodman.” I extended out my hand as we came into the office and he hesitantly took my hand before we shook on it.

“Alright Rodney piss off and get back to work!” snapped the blonde-haired man.  Rodney flinched and raced off further down the sanctuary corridor.  “So, my father tells me you’re here for the new guy? Been nothing but trouble that one.”

“All apes are intelligent beings if you take the time to know them in a calm, collective manner.” I told him.  He rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people. The ones that are always protesting for animal rights and their free speech. Please they’re animals! They don’t know the difference between food and their own shit.” I narrowed my eyes at him and said as I came around and sat down at one of the chairs.

“And just who are you to say something like that?”

“Are you kidding me? Kid, I’m Dodge Landon. And I know better than these stupid monkeys.”

“Apes. Monkeys have tails, apes don’t.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.” He trudged out of the main office and I followed right behind him to another room where a large cage with only a small slot stood.  “Wait over there.” He ordered me as he pointed at a bench before continuing onward.  I sat down at it and waited for a bit.

Soon I heard the sound of footsteps coming from the roof and hopping down in the cage was Cesar.  The second we saw one another, Caesar hooted happily and I came over to him taking his hand in mine.

“Hey, hey there Caesar.” He reached up and gently touched where the bruise from Hunsiker’s punch was at as he signed to me.

‘Still hurt bad?’

“It’s fine, see? Bruise is gone now. I’m okay bud, I’m okay.” The second I saw Dodge come into the room I stood up and asked him. “I’d like to know that he’s being well taken care of here and that no harm has come to him.”

“He’s fine. If he gets picked on, that’s his problem, not ours.” Dodge shrugged nonchalantly.

“So you wouldn’t care if a court order of animal abuse came onto this sanctuary?”

“Truthfully I could care less about what happens to this place. My father’s the one who really runs it, he just forces me to work here.”

“Huh.” I hummed.  “Now according to your website, you say you provide an ‘enriching environment’ is that correct?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So what is that exactly? Just out of curiosity.”

“You know you’re asking a lot of questions that shouldn’t be asked.”

“Well now hold on a second, I’m merely just making conversation here. I’d like to know that the temporary home that Caesar is in is giving him everything he needs. He’s not like other chimps you know.”

“Please. He’s just another dumb animal who thinks he’s special. And you’re a nosy little girl whose sticking her nose where it don’t belong!” Caesar lowly growled but I held my hand out in front of him to calm him down.

“I suppose I am. But before you do anything, I’d like to show you something.” I went over to my pack and pulled out the folder and held it out to him.  He snatched the folder and opened it up to reveal the fully developed 4k pictures of him and his friends together with beer in hand and him sneaking them inside the sanctuary through the backdoor.

“How’d you get these pictures?” he hissed at me.

“How I got them doesn’t matter, what matters is what are you going to do with them.”

“You really think you’re so smart, huh? Well I’ll show you!” he then proceeded to rip up the pictures to shreds. “There, now you have no evidence.”

“Don’t I?” I then pulled out the thumb drive I had put the pictures on before getting them developed.  “Now I know you said you could care less what happens to this place, but what happens if—I don’t know say….the public finds out about this? If the courts decided this place was unreliable to house unwanted apes. After all in this day in age, it’s the public opinion that rules all, right? Even if the courts don’t do anything, the people will. And that would be such a headache for you, now wouldn’t it? Unless……we come to a little deal.”

Dodge looked at me with both seething anger but also a hint of fear.

“You blackmailing me?” he asked.

“Yes.” I replied after a moment of silence.  I gave him an unsettling wide smile, softly chuckling while and a crazy look to my eye to let him know I meant business.

“What do you want?” I turned towards Caesar and said as I took his hand in mine.

“I should like to come at least twice a week, no further visitor approval. And I shall provide the apes true enrichment. Give you less work to do.”

“And just how do you expect over 100 apes are going to listen to you.”

“Music doth soothes the savage beast, isn’t that how the quote goes? In that folder you’ll also see my resume of performing with the San Fransico community center orchestra. You give me at least an hour to entertain the apes with true enrichment, and no one ever need know your dirty little secret. Not even your own father.”

I could see Dodge going over my proposition in his head, he took a deep breath in before exhaling sharply.

“And you swear you won’t go back on your deal and release those photos online?”

“You keep your end of the bargain, and I shall keep mine.” Dodge glared at me but he soon said.

“Deal. In fact you can start now, these animals have been going mad for hours.” As he turned away I turned to Caesar and muttered.

“Got it, Malfoy.” Caesar let out a laugh as I snickered which made Dodge stop and slowly turn to us.

“What did you call me?”

“Nothing, nothing not a thing, Draco Malfoy.” I told him before muttering the name under my breath again.  “I’ll see you on the other side Caesar.” He nodded and proceeded back up the cage and I heard his footsteps trail off.

“Move it.” Dodge lowly sneered as he gestured for me to move.  I was then taken to the back room where I feared all the apes were actually living was revealed.

Tightly condensed cages with only room for them to pace a foot between and only a small bunk-like bed for them to sit on if they didn’t want to sit at the floor of their cages.  All the chimps were going insane in their cages, beating on them, hotting and chattering hysterically.

“Sweet Jesus it’s worse than I thought.” I muttered.

“Oi! If you don’t mind, get on with your silly fiddle music.” Dodge impatiently snapped.

“It’s a violin, not a fiddle.” I set my case down and took out my violin.

“Uhh Dodge? Wh-why is she back here?” Rodney asked nervously.

“Oh don’t worry Rodney, I’m here to give you boys a bit of extra help.” I gave him a wink as I walked down the ramps tuning my violin to make sure it was good and ready.  As I came to the pathway between the cages, the apes began to settle down as they all looked to me.   

I then proceeded to play the very song I played at my last performance with the community center.  Celtic woman’s ‘Granuaile’s Dance’.  The second I started with the first few notes and dancing about like a doe in springtime, the apes all went silent as they watched me.

I’d dance in front of some of their cages, spinning on the balls of my feet while continuously playing.  Some came up to their cages with an entranced look that Caesar always had whenever I’d play for him.  Others began softly hooting happily as I’d do another spin for them before running down the corridors.

I made sure to give every ape the same attention as I played in each row and ran down the long, winding corridor.  Twirling, jumping, skipping, and racing down as I played my violin.  By the end of it all, I had raced back towards the main entrance of the corridor and when I finished, I heard some claps from the apes while the rest of them hooted and chattered in their way as an applause. I even heard some claps from above as I saw Rodney clapping but then he stopped when Dodge glared at him.

“Now if you gentlemen don’t mind, I’ve got about 57 minutes left of this concert and I think the apes would appreciate it if they weren’t being monitored like common criminals.” Dodge turned away scoffing under his breath.

“Whatever.”

“J-just be sure to not get too close to the cages.” Rodney advised me.  I nodded and he left to go back into the infirmary office.  I took a deep breath in and proceeded to do several more compositions until my hour was almost up.  For the remainder of the five minutes I had left, I sat in front of Caesar’s cage.

“So you think the others enjoyed having true enrichment?”

‘Yes. Maurice especially loved it.’ Caesar signed.

“Who’s Maurice?” Caesar then pointed over to the only Orangutan in the sanctuary.  Maurice looked at me with eyes that held the same level of intelligence as Caesar and he began to sign.

‘You play beautifully.’ I gasped softly and signed to him.

‘You know sign language?’

‘Circus orangutan.’ Maurice signed to me.  I looked at him sympathetically and signed back to him.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘No need for apologizes.’ I turned back to Caesar and he signed to me.

‘When can I go home?’ I sighed solemnly.

“Believe me brother, if it were up to me I’d bust you out of here right now. But only Will can get you out of here, I have no legal right to do that. I’m sorry.” Caesar huffed lowly as he looked away from me.  “I’m really sorry Caesar, the only thing I can do is come twice a week and provide you with some semblance of home thanks to my deal with the owner’s son.” He didn’t look back at me.  “I’ll see you in two days.” I packed up my violin and headed out the door.

“Finally finished?” Dodge sneered.

“Be thankful I took an hour of your miserable life of having to deal with these intelligent creatures. And remember our deal, if I hear you mentioning this to your father, the pictures get posted on my Instagram.” I walked out the door, got on my bike and headed back to the house.

Along with providing music for the apes, I also performed for grandpa in hopes of getting some recognition back into his eyes.  But all he gives any of us is the thousand-yard stare.

Sometimes I wonder if there is such a thing as ‘out of body experience’, that way grandpa could really see just how much his health has affected all of us.  Like cancer, the worst thing about Alzheimer’s disease is not what it does to the person it’s affecting, but the people around them.

Four weeks later and I had just finished my current concert I had given the apes at San Bruno primate sanctuary.  And as usual, I try to make the last few minutes be the one on one time with Caesar and I.  Lately, however, I’ve noticed how he’s grown to be more distant.  He hardly ever signs back to me, only giving me the occasional nod or one worded sign.  I sat by his cage and said to him.

“I don’t know what happened after the last time Will and Caroline came to see you a week ago, but surely it can’t be worth all this brooding and misery.” He didn’t turn back to face me.  “Please Caesar, you’re really starting to worry me. You can hardly look at me anymore. Are you—ashamed of me being here now?” he remained on his bunk bed, his back turned to me.

My heart cracked as I let out a soft scoff.

“Alright, I can take a hint.” I packed up my violin and told him. “Just know that all these years together wasn’t a game to me, nor a lie. You were like the little brother I never had, but if you don’t want me in your life anymore, I’ll respect your decision. I’ll remember you though, after all—I remember everyone who leaves.” A tear slid down my face as I raced out of the sanctuary and rode back home.

I stayed in my room the rest of the day and into the night.  Looking through the old scrapbook I had made of Caesar and myself throughout the years.  All of his best drawings, pictures of us together, things we collected during our time in the redwoods.  My throat clenched tightly and my heart sunk to my stomach.

I grabbed an old suitcase and with all the memorabilia I had that reminded me of Caesar, I placed them in the suitcase before zipping it up and placing a lock on the suitcase and locked it up.  I then slid the suitcase under my bed before collapsing onto my bed burying my face into my pillow as tears once again fell down my face.

And just when I thought I didn’t have anymore tears to shed, I woke the next morning to check on grandpa when I saw him and uncle Will together.  Grandpa’s body pale as his white sheets and lying still like a statue.  Will turned to me with tears in his eyes and he shook his head at me.

My body went numb—I didn’t feel myself collapse to my knees but I did take notice of how the world looked bigger while I felt smaller.  I must’ve let out some heart-breaking wail because uncle Will came and held me in his arms while Caroline came rushing in and I saw her checking on grandpa, but there wasn’t anything she could do.  There wasn’t anything anyone could do.

My grandpa, Charles Rodman, was dead.

We had the funeral a week later.  I didn’t even hear the automatic speech that the officiant had to say about my grandpa, all I could hear was muffled voices while I watched brokenly as my grandfather’s casket was lowered into the earth.

After the service, I was back in my room fiddling with some of grandpa’s old sheet music.  I don’t know why but now that he’s gone I feel—empty.  Like all the music I once had inside of me, the passion I once had for it, it was completely gone.  I tossed the sheet music aside and I heard a knock at my door.

“Knock, knock, may I come in?” I heard Caroline’s voice ask softly.  I let out a small grunt allowing her inside my room.  She sat down beside me and asked me, “How are you holding up Lin?”

“Was it worth it?” I croaked out for the first time after being silent for a whole week.

“What?”

“Was it worth pulling it off? His death? Would it have—hurt less if he had passed on five years ago? Or would we still be in this much pain, knowing that he didn’t have to have that fleeting second chance.”

“I know there’s nothing I can say that’ll bring him back, or change what happened. But you should at least take comfort in the fact that—he’s no longer suffering anymore. And he’ll always be with you, as long as you remember the things he taught you.” I moved my eyes towards my violin and I suddenly had a distain for it.

“LIN!!” Will’s voice cried out after hearing the front door slam shut.  Thunderous footsteps came up and he soon entered my room, a pissed off look across his face.

“Will, hold on now’s not the—”

“No Caroline this is between me and her.” Will snapped.  Caroline stood up and walked over to my uncle, holding his arm.

“Choose your next words carefully. She’s in a fragile state right now.” She then left closing the door behind her.

“The month you’d disappear twice a week for, tell me exactly where’d you go off to? And don’t lie to me.” I looked up at him.

“Visiting the community center to—”

“I SAID DON’T LIE TO ME LIN!!” he said slamming his hand on my dresser.  “I know Lin. I know you’ve been sneaking out to see Caesar by blackmailing the owner’s son. He told me, ‘tell that little brat of yours I don’t care about the photos. Now both of you aren’t my problem anymore’.”

“You already know, what’s the point in me telling you?”

“Don’t turn this around! Why would you do something so incredibly stupid!? If it had gotten out by the time the court date came around that you trespassed on private property, blackmailed their staff, and illegally saw Caesar, we’d never get him back! You never think these things through!”

“What like you did?! When you gave grandpa that drug? Or not telling Caesar who he really was? Or even just now by paying off Mr. Landon just to break Caesar out!” I snapped as I stood up from my bed and got into his face.  “Yeah, I saw the envelope full of money before we left for the service for grandpa. You’re not as slick as you think you are uncle.”

“Well as you can see it didn’t work. Caesar wouldn’t leave with me.”

“Good.” I went to walk away but he roughly grabbed my arm and snapped.

“What now all of a sudden you don’t care about him anymore? You’d always call him your brother ape now you’re acting like you don’t even know him!”

“Because I’ve learned to accept what he wanted. Something that you clearly can’t seem to grasp, and I don’t just mean for Caesar.” He let go of my arm and said.

“You got to be with your grandfather longer than you would’ve…”

“And then his disease came back! Ten times worse than it was before! You didn’t think that would happen!?”

“It’s not my fault that you turned your back for one second for him to get into Hunsiker’s car allowing Caesar to be taken away from us!” silence immediately rang through my room.

My fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles turned white and my nails dug deep into my palms.  I shook with rage as uncle Will suddenly realize what he had said.

“Lin, I—”

“No! No this is great! It’s great that you finally spoke the truth after all this time! I’m happy to know that Caesar being taken away was all my fault! So I’m sorry if I made things harder on you but in less than a month from now you…won’t even have to deal with me!” I stormed out of my room as well as out of the house.

I didn’t even bother grabbing my bike, I just ran as fast and as hard as I could down the street.  I don’t know where I ended up and I didn’t care, all I knew was that I couldn’t stay in that house.

[catartac]

When i was younger and my brother still lived with us i would sometimes go to him asking for piano improvisations based on different themes i would give him. Often times this would be based on my OCs or scenes from my "story i will someday totally write but for now daydream about and monologue to my siblings". It was nice to sit back, eyes closed, imagining the action with my own background original soundtrack. He was pretty good at it too.

He was the first one to leave home as he went to uni, and he was the only one to never really come back to live with my parents at any point. He was never really the easiest to communicate with and being away didn't make things much smoother.

However, every year, on our birthdays, we will compose songs for us. He knows what we like, so he always crafts them based on our preferences. He knows I'm a sucker for a repeating melody, for violin and piano sounding sounds, he knows I dream of vocals and man he's come close. My sister is all about rhythm and a bit more electronic. One year we collaborated and I made a moving backdrop to his song for her (which also included audio from Kermit the frog in the background... it kinda worked ngl).

He's been working on a game for some time (you know, if being a talented mathemagician and musician wasn't enough) and even though we are definitely not the target audience (it's a rythm game and man i suck at anything that requires reflexes) he kept asking us for feedback every step of the way. He made it very clear that even though the game has a very high skill ceiling he wants to make sure "even mum can play it".

For context, my mum is first adorable and also she's an og gamer. As in, she got carpal tunnel from playing too much tetris when she was younger. Now she loves playing overcooked and animal crossing with us but she get a bit overwhelmed with more complex games (she's just like me frfr).

It came out today! I bought it (he did offer me a key but I kinda couldn't be bothered and also he was one of the first people to but from my Redbubble so i gotta do what i gotta do). I started playing it. Immediately changed my settings to four keys maximum because i was honest with myself. Actually, that's a lie, the first thing i did was change the colours because that's the kind of person i am. Started playing, really loved the first song, quickly realised another one was waaaay out my league, liked another one. Tell my bro, he says "oh you should also check out Bi Katuak, I think it's your birthday song" I check it out, love it but doesn't ring that much of a bell but now that I am on the second page i see it

La Danza del Fenix

Immediately i am transported back, i imagine Amanda, the character, riddled by anxiety and regret, that i then thought i related to the least but have since then came to realise portrayed very accurate parts of me, dancing surrounded by fire in a joyous way for the first time, the freedom, how her daughter will dance at a ball carefree and excited on what will be the real proof that war and tragedy is over

My brother only gives side hugs and half smiles

It's an easy song. With a lovely repeating melody that makes me want to dance around as I play it even if that makes me make mistakes. You're not penalised for mistakes, you can only see your records get higher. The songs never end unless you want them to, and yet they don't loop in any obvious way (something to do with the algorhythm he kept trying to explain but I kind of gave up understanding at some point.

This game may be for you if you like music, rhythm games, or just videogames in general. Though in a way I am sure it will never be for you in the way it was made for me.

It's called EnternAlgoRythm Give it a shot! There is pretty much nothing you can't customise in terms of gameplay and cosmetics and if there's anything you notice you can tell him and he'll do his very best to fix it or improve it. There are plenty of songs for any skill level (some i dare not even touch) and the songs are named in different languages based on the countries we have lived in/had influence from. My favourites are the aforementioned Danza del Fenix, Bi Katuak (defs also made for me, it's an easy cat themed song), Violet Voyage, and Ingranaggi Striscianti.

TLDR: im very emotional pls go play my brother's game

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

hey dude, love the writing! your characterizations are so on point for em :0 what do you reckon the merc's hobbies are in their downtime? like knitting, golfing, stuff like that.

TF2 Mercs and Their Hobbies!

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I'm glad people think I'm good because that justifies the fact that this is what I do with my spare time 😭 (kidding) Also again mandatory mutual appreciation, love ya for that 🫶🏻 and ty for loving my writing, I really appreciate it <3

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This one's definitely got me smiling and kicking my legs bc something about the idea of these guys being happy and doing normal human things makes me happy.

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Demo knits! He also sews and crochets. This man is just a little grandma (affectionate). His mom taught him, and he just always liked it. It's calming, has definitely given the other Mercs blankets, and just claimed, "Oh well, I found it somewhere." Like it isn't in their well-known favorite color or subtly customized to them. I think he'd also be into most art. Painting and wood carving are two I think he'd fine interesting.

Engie- This man loves Legos. He has at least ten finished sets and about six unfinished ones lying around. He buys the adult sets for himself but has bought Pyro smaller sets so they can build together. Also isn't opposed to going fishing.

Heavy- Did you know he likes rock climbing? Turns out it's a lot easier to get into that hobby if you're strong. He's also a fan of hiking and swimming. Also very good at chess, he and Madic play a lot.

Medic- He loves music! He's good at it too, (I've seen others hc that he plays violin and please I love that, I love violin.) Along with the violin he kills on piano. It's actually really nice to hear piano coming from the lab and not screaming. Who knew? THIS. MAN. LOVES. TO. DANCE. He knows how to and loves to teach people. He specifically likes ballroom dancing, he can waltz, he can swing, if you can think of a dance he probably learned how to do it at some point.

Scout- Sports are probably the most obvious hobby I could pick for Scout, with video games coming in second. But I am a man who deviates from the obvious. He likes to bake and cook! Like I've seen people say this man can't boil water, and that's an insane take to me. Sure, it's funny, but this man loves his mom. Do you think he didn't bake and cook with her to help her out? He has a box of recipes that have been in the family for years. This man is killer when it comes to food, and I will die on this hill. (When he's baking, though, Pyro comes out of nowhere to "help." If any fellow bakers know how annoying it is to have a partner in the kitchen, you'll know how patient Scout has become, but he aurally doesn't mind Pyro baking with him after a while.) Don't ask him to do paintball with you! He loves it a bit too much.

Sniper- My man loves plants. He loves to garden. He has a little windowsill planter in his van. He grows little fruit plants sometimes and has a few cacti scattered around. He also has a bonsai tree, which he is meticulous with. You'd think this man would take up these hobbies to relax, but no. He is also insanely good at poker.

Spy- Really in to calligraphy, origami, and wine tasting. (Also, not really a hobby, but I hc that he can bartend if need be). He's just really into the "fancier." Hobbies that can also show off his art skills, also he likes wine so yk.

Soldier- Like Sniper, he's a really good poker player. He's definitely more into it than the other guys. He hates losing. He also does the traditional suburban while dad hobbies. He watches football and likes to grill. He's just a silly little American man.

Pyro- For the most part, they don't have a singular hobby they really do by themself. Scout and Engie just tend to include them in theirs, so they've never really had to figure out what to do in their downtime. But that doesn't mean they didn't find one eventually. They get into collecting! Specifically, bugs! They have at least two orchid praying mantis and one normal green one in a shadow box. Plus, they have a small collection on honeybees and even some scorpions and spiders (I know they aren't bugs, but I feel like most bug collectors have them too.) Engie went into Pyros room once because Pyro wanted to show off their collection and nearly fainted when Pyro showed off their favorite spider, it was a camel spider. (Look them up if you want but good God, they're so gross 😭)

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One of my favorites to write, super cute and wholesome idea. I smiled the whole time writing this.

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[roses-dreams-andthorns]

Hi Author-nim! Could you please do my request? If you don't want, you can ignore it.

If yes, could you please do GN!MC as Lock from "Trash of the Count's Family"?

(sorry if i have grammatical mistake)

Have a good day/evening Author-nim ♡

oooh! Is that a webcomic? Trey's never heard of it before but Trey will do their best! Trey did some reasearch beforehand so it should be acurate? if it isn't I'm very sorry! You didn't specify what characters to do, So I'll just do the Riddle, Azul, and Jamil if thats okay!

GN! Reader!

HE LOOKS SO CUTE THO!!! AWWWW!

Riddle

When he had first saw you, he figured you'd be just like Ace and Deuce, he was slightly correct, in a sense, as you weren't the brightest, and were quite naive, but when he spoke to you for the first time, he now realized you were more on the shy and timid side, you tried your best to follow the Heartslabyul rules, but you find it hard to memorize all 810 of them... the only one you only slightly remember well is "If you eat a steak on a full moon, a cat must play the violin."

He finds your naiveness slightly adorable, and how shy you get while speaking to him, because of this, he never thought that you had another side to you... Prior to Leona's overblot, during a fight with Jack Howl of Savanaclaw, you had entered your berserk mode and you shine out as a more delinquent like version of yourself, being stubborn and courageous, and insanely strong, you swung at Jack with your hands, which now had claws, your presense was threatening now, and he began to grow slightly scare of you... but after the fight you began to grow far too exhuasted to even move, Ace and Deuce carried you to the infirmary while dragging Jack with them so he could spill the tea on what the hell was going on with all the injuries happening around campus.

Azul

Oh dear... you poor, poor unfortunate soul... your naiveness is hilarious, falling for his tricks almost immediately, thinking he's trustable in the first place, but he also finds your shyness quite adorable, stuttering when speaking to anyone you come across like a shy little puppy... a perfect oppertunity for blackmail, pre overblot, he only saw you as a means for easy business, but post overblot, he's grown quite attached to you, praising you for your efforts and for helping him around the lounge, he feels so lucky to have someone as kind, yet so naive as you. He's at least lucky you've never used your berserk form on him, though the tweels say otherwise when reporting back to him...

Jamil

You're similar to Kalim... very similar. Besides the fact you can actually take care of yourself instead of relying on others, he first took advantage of your naiveness and weaknesses, luring you in to become a part of his plan to overthrow Kalim from his position as dorm leader, though it was quite difficult to get you under his unique magic, as you hardly ever make eye contact due to shyness, but the second you do, he's got you right where he wants you.

Post overblot, he treats you more like a close friend, if you're sick, he'll help treat you, you got injured and can't cook today? he's already got some dinner made for you and ready on your table. You do the same for him as well.

He only saw your berserk form once, and he never wished to again. The durastic change in your personailty and actions... he couldn't handle them well, especially since this was pre overblot. He had underestimated you and your strength. He still probably has a few scars and bite marks from when he fought you in full berserk mode, you tend to feel guilty about that, but he always says "No, no, I deserved it, really."

You always tell him to treat himself, and if he doesn't? You're treating him. You don't care how packed his schedule is, you'll deal with it later, right now, you're taking him to a nice resturant for dinner and treating him like a sultan for a day, which makes him quite happy.

[kawaakari-orchestra]

oh!! would it be too spoilery to ask for info on kwko’s virtual singers’ personalities? at least the introductory ones, if anything ^^

Sure!

KWKO introductory Virtual Singers are Miku, Len and Rin, so I'll start with them and then add the rest of the team sometimes later!

🎼 KWKO Miku has a mature, collected air around her. She sees herself as responsible for both KWKO and her ensemble's well-being and appears to care deeply for them, which gives her a bit of a responsible, older sister-like personality.

However, a lot of these traits are intentionally played up by Miku herself. In reality, she is much more air-headed and childish than she lets on, and due to her lack of experience of actually taking care of anyone she can sometimes come off as naive or insensitive if she lets it slip. This is why she is often on her guard and is usually quite anxious about interacting with others, though she tries her hardest to not let it show.

🎶 KWKO Len and Rin are inseparable to the point where it's hard to talk about them without mentioning each other. They're very close and usually do everything together; however, they're also known to have fights often, usually due to their different opinions on music, and even more often about who gets to sit first chair.

🎵 In terms of personalities, Rin is much more hot-headed and stubborn than Len; she is also the more clingy of the two. Rin likes to be the center of attention and receiving praise, but she also struggles with taking criticism or advice too closely. She feels like her skills are inferior to Len's, but she is too proud to ask any other VS for guidance or advice; this often leads to her idolising KWKO members and acting like their student instead of rival or supporter. This causes to her and Miku being rather snappy with each other, as Miku doesn't find that kind of relationship appropriate.

🎵 Unlike Rin, Len is more calm and laid-back. While he's still occasionally known to behave as immaturely as Rin, especially during their fights, he's the first to cool down and take responsibility for his behaviour. He is much less competitive, but still exceptionally hard-working and persistent. Though he sometimes appears aloof, he is deeply fond of his teammates, and often teases them in a friendly manner. He generally doesn't consider himself as someone who can offer any type of advice to anyone, but he thinks he is a good listener. He is very observant of others, and can read people very easily, but he rarely uses that skill for his own gain. Like Miku, Len also likes taking care of KWKO, although be is much less forceful and much more subtle about it.

🎶 He also dislikes being looked down on, especially regarding his violin skills, seeing as he's often compromising with Rin and lets her have more creative freedom at his own expense, making him feel underappreciated and leading to his relationship with Rin and Miku, who allows this to keep happening "for the sake of peace in the group", to be quite strained.

[keldae]

Tagged by the incomparable @dingoat -- thank you! <3

3 ships

Right now, to nobody's surprise, Gale/Devi is eating my soul. On paper, they shouldn't work -- he's an educated, wealthy, powerful mage (who makes very poor life choices), and she's a much-younger-than-him thief who grew up as an urchin on the streets of Baldur's Gate, whose only "acceptable" skill is playing a violin (apparently pickpocketing and stabbing people aren't considered widely acceptable or desirable skills?). But in all the ways that really count, they are compatible -- they're protective of each other and their friends, and Devi's street-smarts balance out Gale's book/arcane knowledge, and her feisty-ness is another counter to his more balanced way of dealing with things (read: he's 90% of her impulse control). I suppose opposites DO attract! ;)

Theron/Xaja has lived in my brain ever since Shadow of Revan dropped, in canon-verse and in at least two AU's. Theron definitely brought out a side of Xaja that isn't necessarily a proper Jedi side to show, but it's definitely her -- she's also feisty, and protective, and she's got a snarky streak to her that sings to Theron's soul. And she loves Theron's devotion to the cause, and his intelligence, and his wit.

(also, looking at Xaja and Devi... apparently I've got a TYPE when it comes to my main characters in RPGs. You should take a look at my canon Warden from DAO sometime, Lynaen... who ALSO is a redheaded dual-wielding rogue with a healthy dose of snark. At least she was raised a Cousland and didn't spend time learning how to pickpocket on the streets like the other two? #roguelifeFTW)

And I gotta talk about Reanden/Mairen too. They started on a bit of a whim when @andveryginger and I decided to throw them together for a couple of one-off kiss prompts, annnnnd now they run a good chunk of our respective brains (Reanden likes to hang out in Ginger's head a lot). Mai (Ginger's) loves Reanden's intelligence, and his dedication to his kids and the Republic, and the compassionate, caring streak he has under his sociopathic facade. And he's got a type for snarky redheaded Corellian Jedi ladies -- the fact that Mai loves his kids like they're her own, and doesn't think less of him for his rare moments of vulnerability, means the galaxy to him.

First Ship

Oh man -- my very first OTP was Faramir/Eowyn from LOTR, ever since I first read the books at the ripe old age of 12 years old, and it's STILL one of my favourite ships. I think, even 20 years ago, I was seeing myself in Eowyn (as a female character, as one who wanted to fight and seek out renown, as one who, as I would discover later on in my own life, had a bucketload of mental health problems to the tune of depression), and wanted my own Faramir (gentle, noble, compassionate, intelligent). So a bit of projection there? ;) The first ship I wrote... well, I'd started a girl-falls-into-Middle-earth fic in high school, and the endgame goal was my OC with Legolas, but looking back on it now, I think my OC may have had more chemistry with Boromir. Either way, that fic has been abandoned for like 15 years -- I ain't bringing it back out to resurrect it. ;)

Last Song

According to Spotify, "Master Of Illusion" by Battle Beast! If/when I come up with a Gale playlist, that song's going on it.

Currently Reading

"Tress of the Emerald Sea" by Brandon Sanderson. I'm not too far into it, but so far I'm enjoying it! (Also, I LOVE Sanderson's writing style, and the little bits of snark he peppers in there. Current favourite line: "... he had a jaw so straight that it made other men question if they were.")

Last Film

In theatres -- "Argylle", which I enjoyed! I wouldn't class it as a "favourite" movie, but it was fun! At home (read: at Chez Boyfriend), it was "RED" -- that's one of my favourites. Bruce Willis and Karl Urban snarking at each other... =D (Karl is also my faceclaim for Reanden, and that movie was a big inspiration!)

Currently Craving

Nothing at the moment! I have my coffee and I have a big-ass Costco-sized muffin that I'm working on before I go for my tattoo appointment. (Also, Part 1 of my tax return came in last week... I could get ALL the groceries, thank God! Part 2 is dropping on Thursday, for all the backpay after the CRA applied the ADHD disability credit to my previous years... I legit cried when I saw that number. I can afford to get my car fixed, AND get this new tattoo, AND a haircut, AND maybe, I don't know, throw something into a retirement fund!)

Tagging, if you wish: @greyias @storyknitter @nayci @elveny @abysskeeper @auroraesmeraldarose

[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐯𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

❝ do you get deja vu, when she's with you? ❞

- deja vu, olivia rodrigo

Isabelle wore a wine red dress that was tight fitting on top and had a short flowy skirt- which concealed her gun easily.

She ordered some water's while Emily found a table, when she walked back she noticed Viper talking to Emily.

Isabelle walked to the table "Hi, Viper" Isabelle said flirtatiously, if Isabelle was an expert in anything it was playing men just like a violin.

"You promised if we met you on your turf, you'd show us something special." Emily smiled.

"Yeah, Viper, who gets pushed and who gets pulled tonight?" Isabelle asked and his eyes widened.

"Here let me show you." He spoke, attempting to re-gain his confidence, "You see, eye contact is a very powerful gauge."

"It's why you tend to look away from someone you're attracted to, because you know instinctively what a dead giveaway it is, but your brain goes there anyway, images, fantasies."

Isabelle laughed, "Don't flatter yourself."

"The eyes don't lie, they dilate, it's a chemical response, we can't control it."

After Isabelle's eyes didn't dilate whatsoever he moved to Emily, "Come on, do it, are you scared your eyes might dilate?" he teased.

"No, Paul, I'm baffled, I cannot figure out what the unsub could have learned from you." Emily said.

"What do you mean? He took my look, my words, everything that makes me successful to the opposite sex." He defended himself.

"Really? Because that guy can get beautiful women into his apartment." Emily provoked him even more.

"I wouldn't even let you on my facebook." Isabelle  deadpans. 

Emily Smiled, "Oh you have facebook? I'll follow you."

"Thanks-" Viper cut Isabelle off.

"Hey, hey, hey! I gave him-" "Shh" Isabelle cut him off. "Why'd you interrupt me? can you not stand the attention being on someone else for a second?"

"We've been watching all the women in the club and not one of them has looked at you, so who do you really go home with, Paul?" Isabelle asked in an innocent tone.

"Or- or do you go home alone?" Emily frowned, faking sadness.

"That was really good, ladies, that was really good, don't you think I know why you're here?" he asked.

"One of my students copies my moves, and you're here to get inside my mind, don't you see? I confronted my queen bee a long time ago." He raised his voice.

"What's a queen bee?" Isabelle furrowed her brows.

"You are." He exclaimed, pointing a finger at her.

"Every student who's ever taken my class has had one in his life, and the first exercise my students have to complete is to confront their queen bee."

"It could be the girl who cheated on you, the prom date who stood you up, you find them and you squash them." Emily and Isabelle shared a look before they walked toward the club's exit.

Isabelle saw Spencer talking to a bartender, she noticed him point to the women's ear and she grabbed a piece of paper from her hair.

Isabelle was pissed to say the least, not only was he flirting on the job but he was also using the same tactic he had used with her.

"Hey Em, I have to go to the bathroom really quick." she walked into the bathroom urgently.

Isabelle silently begged herself not to cry, she knew everyone would assume she's weak if she started crying. 

Isabelle took a few deep breaths and left the bathroom, her and Emily exit the club to find Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Reid waiting for them.

Isabelle brushed passed Spencer, purposefully knocking her shoulder against his.

"What was that for?"

"You're fine, if it really hurts maybe you should go get your girlfriend to comfort you" Isabelle spit angrily and kept walking.

"Girlfriend?"

"Really Spencer? flirting on a case?" Isabelle turned to face him.

"You were too" he argued, Isabelle scoffed "Because that's what I was assigned to do."

"No, I could tell you actually like him, you we're actually flirting." He elaborated.

Isabelle just stared at him, 'is he being for real?' was all she could thin, "Spencer that was fake flirting."

"Really? cause it seemed real." He admitted, sounding hurt.

"God! you're such a hypocrite, are you hearing yourself? You're upset because I was 'flirting' with viper while you're giving a random bartender your number? with the same tactic you used on me might I add. Come on Spencer you have an eidetic memory and you're seriously forgetting how we met?" She shouted.

Spencer's eyes started to water, "No, but i'm still a little blurry on how we broke up,  you said you wanted to break up then the next day you're gone, I mean did I even mean anything to you?"

Isabelle didn't want to have this conversation with him—ever, but especially not in front of her new coworkers, so she turned around and started walking toward the suv.  

"Go fuck your self, Isa!" He shouted.

If anyone dared to speak to Isabelle the way Spencer was she would turn around punch them, shoot them, then bury them six feet under and never be caught, but since it was Spencer she didn't.

Isabelle just quietly got in the suv.

authors note!

thank you sm for reading!! <33

[thehollowwriter]

🎻🍔 for any ocs of your choosing ♡

🙏🙏💖💕 pardon me quinn !! i havent been able to read all your new ocs posts and fics 😭💖 i still care them though ...

It's ok, Kit! Take your time, there's no rush ^^

🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)?

I answered this for Morrigan, Cosme, Nkulu, and Timo here, so I'll do Finn and Silas for this one

Silas doesn't play any instruments unless doing some rhythm type stuff on any hollow things he can find counts. He does have a love for music and wants to start learning how to play a wide selection of instruments, but he just can't find the time.

Finn does play, thanks to the encouragement of his Papa! He has dabbled in a number of different things (piano, flute, singing, etc), but he's very skilled and at intermediate for saxophone! After talking about it with Malleus, he now wants to learn violin.

🍔 HAMBURGER — Is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer?

Answered for Silas here!

Finn is good at cooking! Silas was, and still is, very adamant he learn every skill necessary to keep him alive, and that included cooking! Finn really enjoys it as not only does he bond with his father but also his partners since they like to cook as well. He was so excited to learn new cooking methods on land, even if cooking with fire for the first time resulted in burnt food. He doesn't bake as much, but he's tried a couple of things and is pondering over asking Trey for lessons or tips. Still, even if he did bake more, he prefers cooking.

Morrigan... oh... Morrigan... he's utterly hopeless at cooking, at least before he met Silas. Silas taught him how to prep fish and all that, and that's about all Morrigan can do. Those heat vents? He's hopeless. He kept burning the food until Silas was like "Okay no more heat vents for you," lol. He was so bad on land as well that he managed to burn a pot of water. Baking is out of the question. He can make little cupcakes (somehow?), and that's it.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @boopshoops @theleechyskrunkly @the-banana-0verlord @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @jovieinramshackle @elenauaurs

[slytherinshua]

ZANNA!!!! YOU'RE A LUCY FAN RIGHT?? I'M THINKING OF STARTING TO LISTEN (bc our names are the same..lol) TO THEM AND I WANT RECOMMENDATIONS!!!

OH YES YES THEYRE ONE OF MY ULTS HEHE I EVEN SAW THEM LIVE ^^^

for starters to their discography, i'd recommend: haze, flowering (their debut), i got u, snooze, play, you're right, watermelon, never in vain, 10sec, and sequel <33 there's a good mix of softer and more upbeat songs in there.

also here's some other things to note about lucy/little introduction to them!!

their leader is shin yechan, violinist (classically trained) and oldest member (1992). he's a big fan of studio ghibli and has a few studio ghibli tattoos (esp howls moving castle). he's also totally the fake maknae and super playful <3

sangyeop is the main vocal, guitarist, and kind of the face of lucy (1994). lucy was formed on superband, but sangyeop was added later for their debut as their old main vocalist went back to his former band and they needed a new one. he's the mom of the group and has an insane voice that adds a lot of uniqueness and colour to lucy's discography. he's also really smart and kind and has helped walwals (lucy's fans) study (since he graduated uni with a degree in applied chemical engineering).

wonsang is the producer and bassist (1996). he's in charge of the musical direction of lucy and makes all their songs (although other members also write lyrics and are involved regularly). he's a big anime fan so a lot of lucy's songs have that anime intro influence to them. he's super soft and sweet-- a total baby (and my bias). he's also produced recently for doyoung (nct)'s solo album title track, so he's becoming more well-known as a producer in kpop. (WHICH HE DESERVES CAUSE HES A GENIUS)

last but not least is gwangil the maknae, drummer, percussionist, vocalist/anything else that the band needs (1997). he's a total allrounder and can seriously do anything musically, although he mostly does drumming and vocals. he enlisted recently, but he'll be back in 2026. his voice is the softest most gentle and it really contrasts nicely with sangyeop's rich tone and colour. he's def the most mature in lucy surrounded by the other 3 chaotic members but you can tell he loves them a lot :)

their music is a really incredible mix of ambient pop, ballads, rock, and beautiful mixes of violin solos. they talk a lot about missing childhood/healing your inner child and relate a lot to the struggles of working adults in the world. their music really touches a special part if you listen closely and focus on their lyrics as well. i can't recommend them enough, they are so so incredible !!! (seeing them live changed my life forever, i can never stop thinking about it every day lmao) i hope you enjoy them and i'm happy to help with any other song recs/info about them!!!