#yes... he plays the piano!

[koifsssh]

oh! he's a hopeless romantic i don't know what to tell you!

he is so! bah! he will play you love songs on the piano regardless if you know of them, and sing such! oh! i cant with him!

he daydreams, he writes poems, oh he draws little hearts over his "i"s instead of dots...

[leclercskiesahead]

shellmotorsport It's here! Part two of @charles_leclerc and @carlossainz55 playing Two Truths and a Lie! Watch and guess along. (Part 1)

[lleclercism]

kinda obsessed with the range of his resume

[utopiasims]

vamp squad

[froggo-tea]

Ghost isn’t really good with music as their siblings are..

I believe ghost doesn’t have the patience of actually practicing an instrument but they do get jealous of their siblings sometimes. Hornet got sick of ghost’s tantrum and gave them a triangle, bad idea there..

[madlena]

Quietus!SasuSaku Chapter 16

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7449361/1/Quietus

@scribe-of-elysium - Autor FF

[dolls-self-ships]

if your f/o plays piano, or another instrument, imagine them serenading you with a romantic song that you both love. They invite you to sit beside or across from them, whichever you’d like, and dedicate the next few minutes of their art and their skill for you, and only for you. The whole time you’re moony-eyed and swooning, resting your cheeks in your hands as your body becomes soft dough. What do their hand(s) look like when they’re dancing across the keys/plucking at the strings/or pressing on the valves of their instrument? Do their brows furrow when they’re focused? Or are they relaxed? They flicker their eyes between you and their instrument to sneak you a few loving glances, they just want to see your adorable lovey dovey face and how they make you feel.

[cloudsrust]

*Slams hands on desk*

So- wouldn't it be cool if dragon tamers kept their nails long, in a claw-like shape, to be closer to their dragon pokèmon while they train? See it as the tamers trying to establish a connection through similarities with a feature usually common in dragons (and obtainable by humans).

And following that- pianists usually need to keep their nails short to have a better range of movement on the keys right? Since nails easily bump or get caught into them especially when you're playing more complex pieces.

What I'm getting at-.. what if Hassel used to have long, claw-like nails but cut them short the moment he decided to leave the tamer life to pursue his musician dream? Not only to play at the best of his abilities but to also symbolically cut off his old life/family ties to make room for who he truly wanted to become.

And listen- I also just love the image of DragonTamer!Hassel laying his hand atop the piano keys in a moment of reflection, his eyes darting between one and the other.

He is weighting his possibilities and what there is to lose and to gain if he was to run away or stay.

But then one of his clawed fingers presses down a tiny bit too hard and a note escapes the piano, clearing his mind from any doubt.

The Dragon Tamer cannot stay. The claws have to go.

...No, no. I'm fine really, I'm fine- :,>

[transannabeth]

phantom of manhattan is a truly terrible book in like a thousand different ways but it is peak hilarious for being like “yeah that kid can’t be raoul’s because UMMMMM he got shot in the dick”

[annefic]

credit for finding this goes to @zemmful

[grace-nakimura]

speaking of dads in the tvc pls don't forget about armand bc his relationship with benji and sybelle, before you know who ruined it, means so much to me, and in this essay i -

[itspileofgoodthings]

I watched No Hard Feelings last night (skipped liberally) and there’s a story I loved underneath it all.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

Musical talent

Jalim fic

"What's got your attention?" Jason leaned closer; head tilting towards Salim curiously. The Iraqi stepped closer, balancing the notebook in one hand, the other motioning to the ceiling, which stones were decorated with ornate elements, forming intricate passages. 

"This journal describes this as a means of communication… " Salim pointed at the precisely carved, waving motifs.

"A way… we could talk to the enemy perhaps." Wondering, his gaze fell back upon Jason. 

The younger man, as if feeling the stare on his skin, turned to face Salim. Their eyes met for a second, before Jason's cheeks started to redden; catching himself he turned to the side taking a few steps away. 

"You're wasting your time…" Jason shook his head as an opposition and for clearing out his thoughts. 

"Gaining knowledge is never a waste of time." Salim retorted; determination and excitement rang in his voice. He looked adamant, scanning through the hastily scribbled notes, of what Jason couldn't make out anything. 

He was impressed by the Iraqi soldier already, learning more and more about Salim's courage and bravery; how clever and reasonable this man is. 

A soldier, thought to be the enemy – he proved to be able to contradict all of Jason's prejudices and doubts. "Those explorers wanted answers, and so do I." Salim stated, curving his index and middle finger to knock on the yellowed, worn out pages of the notebook. 

Jason pursed his lips. Yeah, maybe a little too determined. What a pigheaded fella. 

"Remind me again how those explorers ended up?" He asked, cynical. 

Exactly. They got eaten by fucking vampires under the earth. Miles and miles deep in a literal hell-hole, with no hopes of escape. Be nosy here, and you earn a few vicious claws and fangs – digging into you; toring and slicing our flesh until it's just a ribbon. 

Jason had no intention to be more curious than needed. He liked living, even if it's without answers. 

Salim strolled from one spot to another, brows furrowed, eyes zig-zagging through the lines. Jason wondered how the man could understand those writings. He, who's first language is English, can't make out any understandable words in that notebook, let alone a person who has a totally different language and alphabet than english. 

Jason needed to admit he's shocked, how well educated an Iraqi can be. Back at base everyone just laughed and shrugged, joking and mocking the Iraqi army of their capability. 

Guess they were the ones who got this thing whole wrong. After all, most of his comrades only knew english… If they knew proper english…

"Over here! I've found something!" Salim turned back, eyes sparkling with excitement. Walking up to the carved statue, Jason examined the strange structure. 

It was made out of massive stone, one that must have been a tough task to get done. And there were those green fibres again. Creeping through the curved stone, waving past rifts and lines – reaching the floor, the green yarn spreaded out like cracked glass. 

"It makes for an interesting read." Salim mumbled, motioning down the paper. Jason hummed, shrugging his shoulders nonchalant.

"Never been one for books." A cheeky smirk ran through his lips. "I'll wait for the movie to come out." Jason added, looking over to the stone, as Salim chuckled. Jason's eyes flashed back at the older man for a second, as his soft voice echoed back from the walls. Salim leaned ahead, slowly bringing out his hand to touch the curved lines of the stone obelisc. Careful; as he was about to touch a spiderweb his fingertips brushed against the cold stone, following the lines and loops; he made a few small circles. 

Suddenly a strange echo erupted from the walls. As if metals were rubbing against each other, a steady reverberation, that sank deeper and deeper as the sound spread throughout the spacious room.

"The fuck is that?!" Every nerve in Jason's body lit up with bright red lamps; burning his skin from the inside and screaming. Run, run, run as far as you can, as fast as you can, until you feel the hot breeze on your skin again, until you see the sand and the mountains again. Until you're out of this hole, you run and run and run. 

"Oh! It's singing!" Salim breathed out, face turning up to the walls. 

He smiled, and Jason tripped in his own mind – stuck with the image. Salim's smile lit up his face - dotted with dirt and blood, worn down by the constant vigilance; from those grotesque figures and screams, from this never-ending fever dream. 

But against all odds, Salim managed to be cheerful, never giving up on the task of getting out safe and sound, never leaving his spirit to fade into the abyss. And it stunned Jason. It left him awestruck and disbelieving how someone can have so much faith. 

After a few moments, still waiting for something horrible to happen from the loud noises, Jason stepped closer to Salim. 

"What do you make of these carvings?" He tilted his chin, motioning to the stone statue. 

"It's a language formed from chords. Musical scales. Sonics." Salim explained.

"Mary was a pianist. She decipered it. She thought these carvings represented the stars." After a moment, his eyes stopped at an area where the carved out dots condensed together.  Do you see? That's Cetus. The Whale." 

Jason's eyes ran through the dots and lined, curling and spiralling up like tendrils. If he took out the different directions that the carvings took up; he would be left with some shorter, and some longer dots. 

"That language sounds a little like morse code." He murmured, trying to remember all the alphabetic correspondences he learnt in his early years in the military. Though after a few seconds he came to the conclusion – these out-of-this-world creatures might not be writing their secret vampire language in english…

"No…" Salim shook his head, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. "It's more musical than that. It has a pitch, a rhythm, a color… According to the journal there was only one scale of sound in the device…" The older man explained, leaning deep into the old sketchbook. "But Mary was studying it alone. I think there may be another." After a moment of hesitation, Salim started nodding, slowly looking at Jason. "I'm going to need your help." He stated, and Jason's mouth reacted before his mind could think of anything. 

"Name it." He might not be much of a musical talent himself, but Jason can follow orders quite effectively. 

"This console is too big to operate single-handedly." The Iraqi lieutenant gestured to the stone obelisk, stepping aside for Jason to wander closer. 

In the center, two identical circles lay, shaping a somewhat hourglass figure. Salim ran his fingers through the bumps on the lower half, while Jason had no choice but to climb up onto the rock, reaching for the other half of it. 

Squatting down he braced his weight with one arm; grasping the cold, damp stone while he leaned down, reaching the lines. 

Salim looked up to the ceiling, examining the wide horns; hanging down like hungry mouths  then looked at Jason, signaling to start the maneuver. 

"Never thought you're a musician…" Jason mumbled while trying a pattern. The device fell silent, so he continued. "Would never have guessed it."

With a high pitched chuckle Salim shook his shoulders. 

"How would you have guessed it anyway?" He questioned, a cynical yet curious glint in his eyes. 

"I dunno. Maybe from how you hold that damn iron bar." With a snort, a faint smile ran through Jason's lips. It's true, they didn't have too much time pondering about each other's interests. As he looked at Salim again, slight panic flooded his mind, watching the older man's reaction – he looked forward, a mile-long glare on his face, maybe Jason overstepped here, offending the Iraqi with yet another of his great speculations. 

But then, after a never ending moment Salim's eyes softened, his features melted into a calm and relaxed half smile. 

"Maybe not from how I handle my weapon," he looked up at Jason with a proud grin. "...but I'm fond of the piano. So we can say, you guessed right with this one, Jason." 

The marine had to relocate his grip on the stone, before he slips down from the thought of Salim, playing a piano in a quiet, calming room, bright sun rays of the early morning slaying out on his torso, giving a golden frame to his skin. With a smile on his face, eyes focused on the score, skilled fingers skimming through the keys…

Jason coughed, clearing his throat and mind from any distracting image. 

Now he was sure they needed to get out of this deep hole, no matter what. 

He wanted to hear that play for himself. 

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Jack played the piano?!?!?

love when Sydney plays goofy

and Rachel having a lot of fun hitting her old boss with a shovel

[damnedsword]

fuck everyone who calls disbarment era Phoenix Wright a "hobo Phoenix" when Beanix (a way better alternative) literally exists

[writteninverses]

should start working in this fic i have… it’s just wolfstar centric… should i or should i not…