broke piano

“WELL HOOOWDY, @bdcyberwestern​, W-W-WANNA HE-HEAR A S%0bNG?”

With fast fingers and a memory bank chuck full of music, RED HOT RAVIN’ AKIRA, YOUR SALOON SIDEKICK™ is a musical animatronic manufactured for playing at bars- or at least he used to be.

After the advancement of entertainment and technology, he is now obsolete, a robot whose entire form is bolted down to a heavy upright piano, and wearing down fast. With fraying wires and a cracked face plate, AKIRA plays at a rapid, chaotic pace because of his energy consumption.

Sing Along

So a little bit ago my lovely friend @nalusrainbowtree messaged me a little prompt and I’m honestly in love with it. 

Prompt:

You know what fic I need? One where lance is listening to his music but no one's around so he takes the headphones out and just plays it out loud. Bohemian Rhapsody starts playing and he gets really into well the other paladins hear and start singing with him word for word. Allura and Coran look at them in horror at the lyrics (‘momma just killed a man, put a gun against his head pulled my trigger now he’s dead’) 

I’m so excited to write this, I love Bohemian Rhapsody or anything by Queen. 

Also slight homesick Lance because I had too 

Lance was cleaning his lion, he needed to keep busy. Being still made him too fidgety. It made him feel lazy, like he was suppose to be doing something, so he started to clean. 

He started with his room, making his bed, dusting his shelf, washing his closes, organizing his bathroom and vacuuming the floor. Yet Lance still felt like he hadn’t done enough so he moved into the kitchen. 

Hunk usually kept the kitchen pretty clean but Lance still found things to clean. He scrubbed the stove a few hundred times, he washed the dishes and wiped down the counters. 

Lance hummed as he cleaned, he felt more at home than he ever felt on the castle. Lance leaned back and rested his elbows on one of the counters, his eyes fluttering shut and he sighed. Just like home, cleaning. Now I’m just missing music and my family dancing and singing. Lance’s eyes flew open as he thought about what he just said. “MUSIC! I need music!” He looked around the kitchen, “now where are Pidge’s headphones?” 

-

Lance was on a roll, he had already cleaned the common room, the bridge, the star room and was now making his way down to Blue’s hanger. Music was pulsing through his veins and he could feel the beat in his bones. Lance had his phone on high volume and swayed to the beat as he strolled into the hanger. 

Blue immediately perked up at her paladins presence and Lance gave her a huge smile, pulling his headphones around his neck. “Hey beautiful, ready to be cleaned?” Lance heard her purr and started to wipe down one of her front paws. 

Lance started to scrub at some of the dirt but found himself working up a sweat the longer he scrubbed. Man this stuff is really on here. He felt sweat fall down his face and soon pulled off his headphones and unplugged them from his phone. “Well Blue, I hope you like my music.” Lance was off again, his music echoing off the big room and Lance’s voice blasting through the music. 

Lance’s mom always liked his voice and Lance liked signing for her, she always encouraged Lance to sing everywhere and he fell in love with singing. Every time he sang he felt closer to his mom and the hole in his chest filled in a bit more. 

Lance was so lost in thought thinking about his family that he completely missed the first words to one of the best songs ever. His brain focused on the words around, “Is this just fantasy?” and without hesitation Lance immediately started to belt the lyrics. 

Caught in a landslide! No escape from reality!” Lance started to dance around the room, the familiar harmonies fill his ears. 

Look up to the sky and seeeeeeeee!” Lance heard another voice join him and looked toward the door, seeing Hunk smiling as he kept singing. 

Lance ran towards his best friend and they both continued the lyrics. “I’m just a poor boy!” 

I need no sympathy!” Pidge ran into the room and immediately joined the two boys in their singing. The three of them sand “To meeeeeee,” and without fail both Keith and Shiro entered the room, singing the piano part, keeping their voices light for the piano. 

Lance gave a giggle at what they were doing and immediately composed himself to sing the most tragic part. “Mamaaaaaa, just killed a mannnnn. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead. Mamaaaa life had just begun!! But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away!” 

The five paladins kept on signing, filling each word with emotions for the story that they were telling, all completely oblivious to the two Alteans who entered the room to check on the noise and their horrified expressions. 

“Coran! Did the paladins kill a man?” Allura whispered as she grabbed onto the older man’s arm in fear and concern for her paladin. 

“I do not know princess.” Coran stared at them, “maybe they finally lost it?” 

The paladins kept singing, all of them swaying to the beat keeping the mood heavy. “Too late, my time has comeeee. Sent shivers down my spine,” Lance moved his hand down as to motion the chimes and Keith smiled widely at him. “Body’s aching all the timeeee. Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to gooooo.” 

“Are the paladins leaving? Coran they can’t leave they need to defeat Voltron! And why are they singing to their ‘mama’?” Allura stepped forward to questioned the paladins but Coran stopped her, she didn’t understand the stroy at all. 

“Princess, let’s not jump to conclusions, maybe they are just having fun?” Coran voice was low and he didn’t even believe himself. 

“Killing a man is fun?! Oh I do not wish to visit Earth.” Allura placed a hand on her head as the group moved on to another part of the song. 

Lance took this part over, dramatically falling to his knees. “I don’t want to dieeeeee! Sometimes wish I’d never been born at allllll!” The paladins all played invisible instruments and Allura looked like she was ready to slap some sense into her paladins, hoping they would explain the song. 

“Does Lance really think that?” 

The paladins still ignored their guest and soon broke out into piano playing, switching between the notes for Gallieo. Pidge taking the high notes while Shiro took the low notes. Lance went solo for the next part and his friends covered the background notes. 

I’m just a poor boy nobody loves me.” 

HE’S JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY!

The paladins unconsciously split into groups, Lance, Keith and Pidge singing the first “LET HIM GOOOO!” While Hunk and Shiro sung, “BISMILLAH! WE WILL NOT LET YOU GO!” This followed to the hard guitar playing and the paladins screaming at the tops of their lungs, feeling the high fall down towards the end. 

SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP ME AND SPIT IN MY EYEEEEEE? SO YOU THINK YOU CAN LOVE ME AND LEAVE ME TO DIEEEEE?? OHHHH BABY!” The paladins played intense air guitar as they danced around the room, ignoring the words and stopping when the song started to come down from its high. 

Nothing really mattersssss, anyone can see. Nothing really matters. Nothing really matters. To meeeeeeeeeeeee.” The group stopped where they started, only then realizing Allura and Coran horrified faces. They all caught there breath for a minuet and Lance waved them over. 

“Hey you guys, did you like the song?” The paladins smiled at the two of them and Allura couldn’t contain her emotions anymore. 

“That was the most confusing sing ever! You killed a man then sang to be let go??? I have so many questions.” She leaned against Blue and heard laughter around her. 

“Join the club Princess.” 

Does anyone actually understand this song????? Jk

I based this off of how my sisters and I act when we sing this song, it’s a family and school classic. 

I had so much writing this and I really hope you have fun reading it!!!!

I recommend that you check out this song if you haven’t heard it before! 

Thank you so much for letting me write this

I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long!!!!!

25| Pas De Deux

Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: Ballet au, Romance, Angst
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 3846

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He held you against his chest for a second, as you both got your breathing in check. The dancers spun around you, black figures in the dimmed lights. The piano played, but you heard none of it.

Jimin. Jimin!

Gently, he lowered you back to the stage floor, until you could sit. You stared up. How? How was this possible? But he was gazing back down at you, his eyes still an intense green, his hair messy.

“You’re here.” You whispered.

He lips turned up slightly. “I’m here.”

His voice. You let out the croak of a sob and a laugh. Your ankle moved. You gasped, gulping back the sick feeling.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, the floating world of yours destroyed. The piano was loud in your ears now. It was time. As soon as the piano reached its crescendo you had to be ready.

“I’m dancing.” You told him.

“(Name)” He said incredulously. “You’re injured.”

You shook your head. “It’s not so bad.” Now more than ever, with Jimin here. You had to do this…

With your teeth biting hard into your lip, you pushed yourself up, getting your good leg under you.

But suddenly Jimin’s hand was on your shoulder, pushing you back down. His eyes burned, “(Name), you can’t do this.”

You stared for a second. “I know.” You said, voice wavering “But I still have to.”

“Why? You’re in pain, (Name). I could tell from the wings.”

You smiled grimly. “‘There are no excuses’.”

His eyes flashed, recognizing his own words. He looked at your swollen ankle, then back to your face, studying it. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

You shook your head. “You can’t.”

He raised his chin, looking past the dancer’s into the blackness of the unseeing audience. “You must dance then, but not alone.”

In a single movement, he had lifted you up to standing, making sure you were leaning on your left foot.

“Jimin.” You whispered, your mind struggling to catch up. “You don’t have to do this. I know you don’t.”

He hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it till you met his eyes. They burned with fire. “(Surname) (Name).” He said softly, though his words were as strong. “Ignore everything, everything that I have said previous to this moment.” He leaned closer to you, eyes turning almost desperate. “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you trust me? Will you give me your trust, (Name)?”

For all the worlds, you could have pondered his words for hours. You could have questioned and fought, but at the end of the day, you realized, there would only ever be one answer. “I trust you.” You whispered. No, you couldn’t let yourself interpret his words the way you wanted to. You couldn’t let the delusion win.

“And I trust you.” He said back, shutting his eyes for a split second. “More than I have allowed myself to understand.”

You were so confused, what did he mean?

Then he gently turned you so that you were facing the front, where your class would soon break apart. “Just keep your weight on your left foot.” He said softly in your ear. He was so close. Shivers ran up your spine. “If you can, keep your other leg straight. I won’t drop you.”

You nodded nervously. “We have four bars.” The eight people dancing around you sped up, spinning and twirling as you had, lifting the music to the most terrific peak. “One.” You said shakily. “Two.” You were going to dance with Jimin “Three.” No, no those same feelings were going to come back. “Four.” You had to stay neutral. “Five.” Simultaneously, you took in a deep breath. Jimin pulled you a little closer to him.

It was just a dance…

“Six.”

But was it?

“Jimin!” You spoke up.

“(Name), I – ”

But the dancers hiding you suddenly split, fading away into the wings. No!

Jimin hesitated only a moment, then lifted you high. Your arms rose up. The glaring bright lights were on the two of you. You were bared to the black sea of the audience. The world opened.

You heard the gasp of surprise. The piano suddenly faltered, holding on to its last note. Everything paused. Just for a single second. And then the piano started again.

It was the same tune, but slower, more delicate. It was the beginning again! Those first few curious bars.

Jimin lowered you, until your left pointe touched the ground. The notes began to roll down, and you did as you had done before, leaning into a penche, lifting your leg up until it was straight with your standing one. But it was different now, because Jimin was in front of you, down on his knee, holding your hands. His eyes held your, gazing at you. You knew you looked confused and flustered. He hadn’t answered. You didn’t know. What had he been about to say?

The music came back up, and so did you. Then you walked forward, trying to keep your weight on your ankle for only the briefest of moments. Jimin held your hand. You went up on your pointe. He seemed to know what you were going to do, and so you pirouetted. His hands rung around you, giving extra spin.

It felt so easy, but you just didn’t know. You didn’t understand.

The music finished it’s tinkling. You should have ended your turn and put your leg back on the ground as you usually did, but your body, without any instruction, leant backwards, letting your bad leg stretch out in front of you, laying your head against his shoulder.

Why? Why were you doing this? It was silly, he hadn’t answered.

But it felt so perfect, leaning back against him. You felt safe your eyes shut. His hand came further onto your stomach.

What were you doing?

The music continued. You stepped away from him, his hands slipping from your bodice. But you knew you wanted them back.

You walked forward again. Jimin, a few metres away from you now, did the same.

This was the part where you were meant to be reaching for something, but you had already discovered the World of Ballet. This time, you had to search for something else, but the one thing that you wanted. It was stupid, it had been proven wrong on so many occasions, but you still wanted it. You wanted it so badly now.

So you gave up.

You let yourself be taken.

You let the delusion have you.

As the music came into its final soft chord, you gave Jimin one last, almost apologetic look. You knew he was just trying to get you through the rest of your solo. You knew you shouldn’t make it more than it was, but then you let your bad leg come behind your other, and you lowered, letting your back knee touch the ground. Your tutu was rough on your thigh. You brought your hand to your heart, bowing your head.

Surrendering yourself to him, to Jimin.

At that moment there was no past, no future. There was just raw instinct, all there ever is in ballet, once you are here, on stage.

And so you held your position, only looking up a little, peeking at the man across the stage from you.

But he was no longer standing. He was sinking down onto one knee, bringing himself lower than you. His hand clasped to his chest.

Your breathing halted. 

He wasn’t…he couldn’t be…?

Then his face lifted again. Your eyes locked. And it was like that first dance. The same thought in your minds, except that now he knew the question you were asking. And he was giving you the answer.

When you had danced, he had felt it.

The connection. It was real!

The piano broke into the melody, definitive and sure. And you were up, rushing towards him, feeling as light as air. Your ankle hurt, but it was covered by something even more potent than adrenalin. Jimin! He understood! He knew!

As you reached the middle, you spun into a pirouette. Jimin was right there at your waist, and you leant back, your head and arms now over his shoulder. He picked you up just slightly and spun you around. You couldn’t help but laugh as you were twirled, the air rushing past you. You knew only he would hear over the light, carefree music. And you knew…somehow…that he understood.

As he put you down again, you stepped back, and he leapt across the stage, his muscles flexing as he flew through the air. You could see the smile on his face. He was truly amazing.

As he landed his second leap, he stood and held out a hand to you, his eyes lit with excitement.

You raised your chin, and in a few quick steps, your waist was in his hands again.

You let your legs come out, and it was as if you were leaping, except your feet merely brushed the floor as Jimin lifted you each time, keeping your ankle from damage. The music carried on at it’s fast pace, and you went with it. You leapt again and again, but it was growing in volume, something more had to happen.

At your highest point in the leap, Jimin suddenly twisted you and let go for a single second. You were spinning in the air! He quickly caught you again, bringing youright down until you were bent back over his arm, staring up at his face. You thought you heard clapping, but the music was coming to its end, powering through. It took only a second for him to pull you back up on your feet.

Jimin and you separated again, going to your opposite sides.

You pirouetted, feeling so glorious, so happy! As you passed in a blur, you saw Jimin doing the same, spinning with equal speed. You had never seen someone so strong.

Three bars, two bars.

And you ran once again, launching yourself high into the air. Jimin caught you as the final bar played, and you were up high in an arabesque.

An arabesque! Just as you had begun the piece, but so much had changed. You were no longer on the ground, but suspended above the whole world. Elated like no one else save one.

The last note faded.

The lights went out to black.

Jimin gently lowered you back to the ground, setting you on your pointe again. Your bad ankle tucked behind it. Your hands rested on Jimin’s chest, his arm was wrapped around your waist.

All you could hear was his breathing and your own. In the dim lights from the wings, Jimin’s face looked shadowed, beautiful and strong. The exhilaration was still on his face.

You stared at him, a smile spreading over your face. The relief, the pain, the dance.

“You answered.” You whispered, laughing in elation.

He laughed with you, pulling you up in his arms. Your hands went around his neck, he was really here. “I did, (Name).”

“All that you said before?”

He shook his head. “That dance meant everything, (Name).”

And then his lips were on yours.

You gasped. 

What?

But then you were kissing him back urgently, your instinct taking over. You felt his smile as your mouths met. Your bodice pressed into his chest. He was so warm.

His strong arms wrapped further around you. Your fingers wove into his hair.

Perfection…perfection in chaos…

“Uh…(Name)?” Came someone’s voice.

You snapped down from your pointe, fumbling a little as you regained your footing. Jimin quickly steadied you. Your heart was going frantically fast.

You glanced around, patting down your tutu. You could faintly see your class in lines across the stage. Yuna was behind you, a grin on her face.

“Curtain call.” Jimin murmured.

“I-” But speech was a little too much for you.

Jimin grabbed your hand and helped you limp off stage.

The lights turen on again as you reached the curtain. Jimin kept a hand around your waist. “Don’t go further back. I think Hyejin’s waiting…”

You nodded nervously. You’d kissed Jimin. Jimin had kissed you. You’d kissed. Jimin he was here. The delusion wasn’t a delusion.

You bit your lip and focussed on your class.

They were in two lines, alternately girls and boys, standing poised and perfect. They walked forward as one, then the ladies stepped to the right and curtsied, as you did in class. You looked at Hyeun almost bursting with excitement. Minjee was between Kihyn and Jongsoo in the front row, looking demure, her usual half-smirk on her face. The boys then stepped up and bowed, just a simple forward motion. Kwangsik was beaming like he hadn’t done for days. Again, you hoped Jiwoo was watching.

The audience, who you couldn’t see, clapped and clapped. Your class, your class who had been through so much because of you, were smiling and looking at each other proudly. Part of you hummed with happiness. You hadn’t failed them, or at least, they didn’t think you had.

They walked back again, leaving space at the front of the stage, and their heads turned to where Jimin and you stood in the wings.

“Ready?” Jimin whispered.

You nodded.

“Can you walk?” He asked.

“I’ll have to.” You murmured.

You remembered Odette, four years ago, when you’d first experienced ballet. What had she done?

Jimin took your left hand in his, and his other hand rested lightly on your back. You walked out. The clapping became louder. Someone shouted something. You swallowed and focussed. You walked high on the balls of your feet, letting your free arm drift out, leading your body. Your ankle ached more and more with every light step. Just keep smiling. You forced brightness into your eyes, and made your lips come up. After all, you had more to be happy about than not be happy about, didn’t you? As soon as you processed everything.

Jimin held your hand lightly in his own. It was only when you reached the middle of the stage that you finally looked up.

You found yourself facing a massive auditorium packed with people. There were four blocks of seats in the stalls, sprawling around the stage. Then there was a dress circle, a golden balcony with even more seats on it. Above that was another balcony, 'the VIP’s’, which was almost empty, aside from a few people at the front.

The American Ballet, in their blue, red and white tracksuits were easy to spot in the middle of the stalls, cheering and clapping. Cheering, you swallowed, staring out at the masses of people who had watched your life change.

“Walk forward, (Name.)” Jimin whispered amusedly. You did as he said, taking three delicate steps to the front. He let go of your hand, and stepped back.

You stepped to the right, your ankle wobbling as you stood on it. Taking a deep breath, you looked to the left side of the theatre, letting your left arm up rise up, recognizing the audience there. And then you looked to the right, your right arm rising up in honour of those there. Hands met above your head and you knelt, trying to put as much weight on your knee as possible. Your  arms came down on either side of you, drawing a circle in the air as you brought them to your chest, crossing your wrists and lowering your head down to the front knee. The clapping became even louder. You felt your heart thudding through the bodice. These were your last few seconds before the dance was well and truly over. Before I had to face the massive repercussions which were to come.

But you had done what you’d set out to do.

With another deep breath, you rose up again, biting back the grimace, having to stand on your right leg. Jimin was taking your hand again. You looked at him. He was smiling at you. You stepped back, letting go of his hand this time.

He stepped forward majestically, looking confidently up to the dress circle. He made a wide sweeping motion with his left hand, acknowledging the audience as you had, and then the same with his right. Girls began squealing. He brought his hands back down to his sides as he bowed his head forward. He held it only a few moments before stepping back and taking your hand.

The two of you glanced back at your class, and then together, everyone walked forward, taking your last curtsies and bows. You went low again, more for your leg than anything else. It was then that you looked up, catching sight of the grand chandelier hanging in the middle of the auditorium. It was made up of three tiers of crystals, all shining magnificently in the lights. But they weren’t what caught your attention. It was the words written in silver on the high ceiling around it.

Do not look up, my friends, but forward, for it is upon my stage that you shall gain a glimpse of the heavens.

A shiver ran up your spine. Kwon Songmin must have written that.

Crap! You were meant to be standing! Too quickly, you lifted out of your curtsy and up onto your right leg. However your ankle gave out, and you stumbled forwards, gasping in pain.

Jimin was there in a second, grabbing your waist. You choked back a sob, and stood up straight, forcing a smile back onto your face.

They clapped even harder, then, calling out words which were lost in all the other noise. You swallowed, the sickness finally coming to you.

The lights went down.

“Oh fuck.” You moaned.

Without a word, Jimin picked you up in his arms and carried you offstage.

“Well ladies and gentlemen.” Namjoon’s voice quickly came on. “What a show of perseverance that one was! A spectacular performance there by (Surname) (Name), and Madame Choi’s First Year Class, with a rather unexpected appearance of Park Jimin! Alright, next up we have Master Kang’s class…”

As soon as you were out of the front wing and backstage, you and Jimin were surrounded by your class.

“Oh my God, (Name)!” Yuna whispered as Jimin set you back down, keeping a firm hold on you. “Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I just slipped a bit. I’m fine.”

Jimin’s arm tightened around your waist. He knew you wasn’t.

“I can’t believe you fell twice.” Seohyun sneered.

“I’m sure it wasn’t her fault.” Kwangsik defended.

“OMG!” Hyeun popped up in front of you, looking excitedly from Jimin to you. “Did you guys plan this?” She gasped. “Is this why you wanted to dance tonight? Oh! That is so romantic!”

Jimin conceded a tiny smile. “No, Miss Yah, we didn’t plan this.”

“But you kissed!” She exclaimed. You felt blood rush to your cheeks. Jimin cleared his throat, looking down.

Though you had far more things to worry about, you couldn’t help the doubts from coming to you. Did he regret it? It was just a spur of the moment thing.

Yuna gave Hyeun an elbow in the ribs. “Shut up Hyeun!”

“Oh I knew it!” She kept going. “This is so amazingly cute!”

The first powerful cello strokes of Viva la Vida began playing. On the stage, girls in white and red dresses began tour jeteing across the floor.

“We caned them.” Minjee muttered, leaning back against an amp. She avoided Jimin’s gaze.

“We totally did!” Areum agreed. “And we did have a Pas de Deux in the end!”

“(Name)! Jimin!” Dawon was suddenly weaving through your class to get to you. She threw her arms around you two. You bit your cheek against the pain. “I can’t believe what you two just did!” She looked around at your class, “What all of you guys did! That was amazing!” Your class gave nervous, but still proud smiles in return. Dawon turned back to you. “I’ve never seen you dance a Pas de Deux like that, Jimin! It was just…”

But then there was the ominous click of high heels on the stage floor.

“Get out of the way! Get into your dressing rooms!” Madame Hyejin snapped. She came up to you as your class hesitantly left. She was dressed in an elegant evening dress, which was a deep red and reached up one shoulder. “You too, Miss Jung.” She said. Dawon frowned, but Madame Hyejin gave her a stony look. Sighing, Dawon gave you a quick smile and left.

Madame Hyejin stepped in closer. “What the Hell did you two think you were doing?” She hissed. “You!” She looked your up and down. “This is the second time you broke the rules! Right in front of me! And you!” She jabbed a finger at Jimin. “What did you think you were doing? Running on stage like that!”

“I checked the lighting, Hyejin.” Jimin said calmly. “The audience couldn’t see me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re meant to be in Los Angeles!”

When he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “I need to go and get the next class ready. Doctor Hill is in his office. You need to go and see him – you may have fooled the audience, but you certainly didn’t fool us. And I don’t doubt Master Jinho will wish to talk to you both after the Review is finished.”

You nodded. You gulped, feeling worse by the second.

Madame Hyejin began to walk off, but then stopped, turning back around.

“Jimin.” She said, her voice softer. She gazed at him. “You could have saved many people a lot of grief tonight if you had done what I told you to do earlier.”

Jimin paused. “I know,” he said quietly. What was Madame Hyejin talking about?

She nodded and went into the crossover.

Master Kang’s dancers hurried about, getting to their entrances on time. You glanced through the wings. True to the rumours, there were five pairs of dancers in the middle of the stage, the boys helping the girls to pirouette and performing straight lifts.

Watching their right legs snapping up and down from pointe made you feel even sicker.

Leaning heavily on Jimin, you silently headed for the stage door.

The dressing room corridors were mercifully empty.

You slumped down onto a bench and began picking at the knot of your pointe shoe. It untied quickly. You pulled off the shoe, relieved at the release of pressure. But then you looked at you ankle.

Even through the tights, you could see it had swelled horribly, and the whole area of your foot had turned an ugly blue and black.

“Jesus, (Name).” Jimin breathed, kneeling down beside you.

You swallowed.“It’s not that bad.”

“I shouldn’t have let you dance.”

You shook your head. “You said it yourself; you couldn’t have stopped me.”

He glanced up at you. “Why did you want to do it so much?”

“It’s dancing.” You replied without a thought.

He gazed at you, a slight smile coming to his lips. “So it is.” He said softly. He understood, he understood the one thing which no one else could grasp.

But footsteps were echoing down the hallway.

“Would you care to explain.” Came a sneering voice. “Why you’re wearing my tutu?”

anonymous asked:

I got to see the beeb tonight and I was Right Next to the b stage and the piano fuckin. Broke. so he couldn't come back there and then since he wasn't back there he didn't walk around back there during doab he walked in the front so I didn't get to see the boy but after ggb he said that Donald trump can suck his dick so it all turned out ok in the end

awww im sorry boo

(shuffle&write) - 05 - YouRiko

05 •• How I needed you, Puggy

Pairing → YouRiko
Plot → Takes place after [03]. Or, how Riko tries to move on.

[01] [02] [03] [04] [06] [07]




Riko closes her eyes and takes a deep breath when her fingers curl around the door handle. She suddenly has a lump in her throat and her heartbeat painfully accelerates, but her hand refuses to open the door, just like her feet refuse to take a step forward. She chews on her lower lip, as if a single bite was going to shake her body, rouse it and eventually make it move. In vain.
But her brain seems to accept the fact that no one is going to greet her the moment she will enter the room, and she finally steps in, with a heavy heart and trembling hands.

Even if Riko knew she was not going to be here, she can’t help but feel an excruciating pain stabbing her right in the chest, slaughtering her heart in no time at all.

You isn’t here. The soft blush ornating her cheeks, the playful but innocent twinkle illuminating her sapphire eyes, the joyful smile gracing her features, … They are not here, either. There is no uniform lazily thrown on the edge of the bed. There is no half done homework left on the desk. There is no needle, no yarn ready to sew Aqours’ next outfits. The room is curiously tidy, clean -not that You’s bedroom was chaotic, there were just few things misplaced here and there sometimes.

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pls enjoy my firSt piano cover for nct’s heartbreaker i learndt it in 3 hrs omg 

SQ comfort au’s

+ Emma gets panic attacks and has to store herself under something to calm down. In her own house it’s her bed but at Regina’s when she had been breathing heavily and close to tears she had had to crawl under the piano. It broke Regina’s heart.

+ Regina’s clumsy, very clumsy and often falls over her own feet. There’s always a band aid or two stuffed in the back pocket of Emma’s jeans just in case.

+ Regina misses her Mother sometimes and feels guilty for it. Snow can always tell when she’s feeling this way and pushes Emma to be extra nice.

+ Sometimes when things get really tough Emma randomly bursts into tears, normally in the car by herself. She drives straight to Regina’s and the woman lets her in no questions asked, she knows that Emma needs to get it all out before she goes to fight whatever horror faces them this time.

+ Emma gets restless when she feels anxious and often can’t sleep because of it. Regina knows it’s fine if she goes back to sleep, she knows that Emma just needs to relax on her own and that’s okay with her, she just hopes that Henry doesn’t wake up and find out that his Mother’s have secret sleepovers nearly weekly.

+ Regina gets scared when she feels down. She puts dark lipstick on and scowls at everyone she passes. Emma sees through this act, she knows that Regina’s past as the Evil Queen is what protected her from her fears. She buys them some wine and switches up Regina’s batch of kale for a semi homemade trifle (from Granny’s) and they talk until Regina is feeling better.

+ Emma crashes her car and Regina shouts at her. Henry follows her Mother out of the hospital room. He reassures her that Emma’s injuries are only minor, he also tells her that it’s okay to be scared. Regina cries in the hospital public bathroom when he goes. Emma is an idiot, she’s glad she’s so relieved she’s okay.

+ Henry wins a fish. Emma names it Fishy McSassypants. Fishy dies that night. Regina wishes she had just switched the fish for another because Emma is currently burying Fishy McSassypants next to her apple tree while Henry says a few words and Emma sings a hymn through her tears. They’re both wearing black.

+ Emma often sneaks into Regina’s bed in the middle of the night, not for sex, just so she can be held.

+ Regina cuts her finger while chopping the vegetables for Sunday dinner, Emma thinks they should go to A&E, Regina thinks she’s exaggerating.

+ Regina often faints when she hasn’t used her magic for too long, Emma reminds her to use it even when she doesn’t need to so it doesn’t bubble up inside of her.

+ In Neverland they ended up having sex against a tree. Regina grazed her knee and Emma felt guilty for a week.

+ Emma has an argument with her Mother and stays at Regina’s that night. She cries herself to sleep and so does Regina. Sometimes she can’t bare what she did.

+ Regina cried the first time they kissed so Emma bought her a bar of chocolate. They both knew it was true loves kiss.

just had a flashback to the time i nearly broke a fucking piano.

hear me out.

it was during a taekwondo session, and because the student union here doesn’t have a brain, they placed our lesson in like the tiniest fucking room you can imagine.  for taekwondo.  in a tiny room.

anyway, we were just warming up, and i think we were performing the axe kick.  whatever it was, there was a piano there, and tbh it was in my way, and i somehow managed to slam my heel down onto it and it shattered to wooden smithereens

my master was just in awe, basically, and said he would have given me my black belt then and there if he could

it was a great day :D

i-breathe-music27  asked:

Whats some really unique and interesting words related to music? And How one would feel or how music sounds?

Lisztomania is a need to listen to music all the time.

This word was coined by the German romantic literary figure Heinrich Heine to describe the massive public response to the Hungarian composer and pianist Franz Liszt’s virtuosic piano performances.

Admirers of Liszt would swarm over him, fighting over his handkerchiefs and gloves. Fans would wear his portrait on brooches and cameos. Women would try to get locks of his hair, and whenever he broke a piano string, admirers would try to obtain it in order to make a bracelet. Some female admirers would even carry glass phials into which they poured his coffee dregs. Women fought over his silk handkerchiefs and velvet gloves, which they ripped to shreds as souvenirs. According to one report: Liszt once threw away an old cigar stump in the street under the watchful eyes of an infatuated lady-in-waiting, who reverently picked the offensive weed out of the gutter, had it encased in a locket and surrounded with the monogram “F.L.” in diamonds, and went about her courtly duties unaware of the sickly odor it gave forth.

Helping fuel this atmosphere was the artist’s mesmeric personality and stage presence. Lisztomania, or “Liszt fever” as it was sometimes called, was the intense fan frenzy directed toward him during his performances, which by many witnesses testified that Liszt’s playing raised the mood of audiences to a level of mystical ecstasy.

anonymous asked:

My friends arnt talking to me. No one wants to hang out. I'm alone in the house. I broke my piano. I go to work in an hour. I'm a bit depressed. And My cat just vomited on the floor. Could you tell my something cool about hanji to brighten my mood?

Oh wow. Uhm,,, Hanji often forgets to eat and then binge eats and plunders the Storages at night. People often mistook Hanji for a thief or wild animal already.

#418

you told me to read more
I told you to feel more
because when I wrote to you
the words bounced around
in your empty-sleepless head
I hated my poems because
you no longer read them
like you used to near the lamp
and that really broke me
like a piano played by rough hands
& an artist without his supplies
I can’t play you a song
or paint you a picture
if you don’t love yourself
you used to tell me of
the magic in words
tragic that I was the
only one that fucking
heard you speak

When I was 12 I thought my world was made out of flowers. My sun was the sunflowers that grew in my backyard and my sky was the bluebells that sang me songs as I feel asleep. My smile was made out of flowerbeds and my laugh was made out of Dragon Snaps, because they looked more like lips that brush you with kisses than fingers that snapped against your palm. My happiness was a crafted flower crown, sitting in the front yard with my grandmother as she tried to teach me to tie it all the way.

When I was 13 I thought my world was made out of my bike. My feet were the tire wheels that took me to far off lands and lead me down towards the path of adventure, resulting in scrapped knees and scratched cheeks. My joy was the wind against my face and the promise of a new horizon over every hill. My dreams were made out of chains and tire pressure.

When I was 14 I thought my world was made out of hormones. My clouds were the boys in my grade seven class, blocking out my sun and clouding my judgement. Their smiles infatuated my mind and compromised my system. Now my smile had become tight and nervous, and the flowers that once made up my world wilted around me. The petals hung loosely against my skin as my happiness was now determined by forces other than the sun, the soil, and water. They were forces out of mine, and natures, control.

When I was 15, I thought my world was made out of I love you’s. The first and only time a boy I liked laughed the words off his tongue like a tune to my favourite song, my wilted smile blossomed into a feeling I didn’t know existed outside of fairy tales. But they were hollow words like an empty promise, and sometimes on my quieter days I can hear them still echoing in the distance. My hands became a word on the tip of your tongue, cold and distant, always searching for the answer that another hand might hold. My ears became microphones, sitting on a stand waiting for the next love to sing.

When I was 16, I thought my world was made out of black and white. Not the okay kind of black and white that makes you reminisce about a simpler time and weep for days that have turned into night, but the black and white that drained all the colour away from life. My heart was the moon, always reflecting off of the sun but never giving off its own heat, and my air was weightless water that engulfed me and filled my lungs, drowning me alive.

When I was 17 I thought my world was made out of second chances. The second time I went to Paris I thought I would be able to live it all over again, and experience my first times anew. It was then when I realized my world wasn’t made out of second chances, but disappointments. Later that year I met a boy who played my heart like a badly tuned piano and broke it like an eggshell. My fingertips were the broom that swept up the pieces and my tears were the glue that put them back together.

When I turned 18, I started to look at flowers again. They seemed smaller now. Fragile. I found it hard to make flower crowns because the stems could break so easily. It was only then that I realized my happiness wasn’t flower crowns anymore. My feet weren’t tire wheels and my hands weren’t always searching for another hand to hold. My dreams weren’t chains and air pressure and my heart wasn’t the moon. My world wasn’t made out of flowers or bicycles, or hormones and second chances and I love you’s. I am not a reflection of the worlds I live in.

I am 18, and my world is not made out of words or things. My palms are possibilities, turned upwards towards the sky. My soul is space, vast and expanding, mysterious and impossible. My voice is power, giving me the tools I need to build my own world, of my own making. I am the creator of my own existence. My happiness is me.

—  The 18 Worlds I’ve Lived In (by daetion)