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wy-van-sunshine · 3 years

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wesper fanfic!

Author’s note: I have read so many fanfics in which Wylan feels different from Jesper’s world and lifestyle, somehow out of place and he’s sad about it, but since I always want to see things from other perspectives I want to write something in which Jesper is the one feeling “wrong” for the way Wylan lives his life. I really hope you’ll like this!

The stage lights shone on the beautiful flautist’s red hair, enlightening his silver flute and isolating him in the only spot of warm light in the entire theatre: the music he played was so full of harmony and peace, it was as if Wylan existed in a parallel world made of his own music and emotions.

The public was lucky enough to be allowed to observe that world from the outside, taking part in it through the celestial notes that Wylan played in the most natural way, almost as if they were an extension of his soul.

Jesper was in a private place, hidden from the rest of the people but from where he could have the best view of his boyfriend: he often mocked him about his “graceful serenades”, but whenever he played on stage he couldn’t help but admire the unique talent the merchling had and fall in love with that music not so many months ago he didn’t even care about.

Jesper smiled. In any other occasion he would have called himself an idiot for that, but now he really couldn’t do anything else but keep that peaceful expression on his face, his chin resting on his hand as he stared at Wylan on stage, his gaze filled with love and admiration.

The magic lasted forever, but it was also so brief: before anyone wanted him to, Wylan played the last notes and he finally smiled, looking at the point where he knew Jesper was and bowing to the whole public who was applauding and cheering him hard.

Every time the redhead had a concert, the night was so difficult to end: he exited the theatre and almost everyone was waiting him there to see and talk to him. Wylan was so grateful for that, but at the same time he always met Jesper’s eyes among all people and some parts of him wanted nothing but run to him and hug him. However, he was a polite musician and he always stopped to talk with his public.

Jesper looked at Wylan’s blue, shiny eyes with pride: he was so happy everytime after a concert and the sharpshooter would have paid a million kruge to see that expression on him every second of his life.

“Hey there, boy!” Jesper turned his head to his left and saw a middle aged couple “You are the flautist’s boyfriend, am I right?” asked the man.

“Yes, yes I am” he answered smiling “Did you enjoy the concert? I don’t know much about this world, but I really think he’s the best out there”

The woman nodded “His music sounds so graceful! I bet he’d play some parts of Tchaikovski’s pieces like no one ever has”

“You’re right, my dear! And what about the concerts by Mozart? He would enchant the public! What do you think, boy?”

“Jesper, you can call me Jesper” said the Zemeni, then smiled, a little embarassed “I... actually, as I said before I really don’t know much about this musical world, but... well, I think Wylan would be amazing in any occasion...?”

Jesper couldn’t quite decipher the gaze the couple exchanged: they looked... disappointed in his answer, but what could he do about it? He had just been honest. Luckily, Wylan finally came and he didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“Jes!” Wylan called with a huge smile on his lips, throwing his arms around his waist. The sharpshooter released a breath and hugged him back “You were a Saint up there” he said.

The redhead hugged him harder, but then he felt a hand tap his shoulder and he turned his head, meeting the old man’s gaze. He smiled politely “Good evening, sir!”

The couple started talking with Wylan about the same topic they tried to discuss with Jesper, but this time they found someone who understood everything they said and the chat became more and more interesting to Wylan, more and more uncomfortable to Jesper.

He was there, trying to follow the conversation, but he got lost among weird composer’s names and numbers of concerts and operas. He could see how Wylan was loving all of that and how he was feeling comfortable, and suddenly he felt wrong.

Music was one of Wylan’s greatest passions and what did he know about it? Bach and Mozart were names he had only heard, “Cage” was a place to be imprisoned in, “Chopin” was a funny word similar to what you did when you went to the mall. He knew absolutely nothing about it. He knew nothing about one of the most important things to his boyfriend.

After minutes which felt like eras for Jesper, Wylan took leave of the couple and grabbed Jesper’s hand, smiling as usual “Shall we go home?”

Jesper tried to smile back, but he couldn’t. He just nodded and started walking. Their way back home was not long, but it passed in silence, Wylan thinking about the night and Jesper about how everything about himself felt wrong. Sometimes Wylan looked over the sharpshooter: he was silent and that was something to worry about, but he had no idea about what was going on in his head and he said nothing until they arrived home.

Without a word, Jesper placed a kiss on Wylan’s head and immediately reached for their bedroom, throwing himself on the bed and staring at the ceiling, his head almost in pain for his thoughts.

About fifteen minutes later, the merchling entered the room with a smoking cup in his hand, reached the bed and sit next to Jesper’s body, looking at him. He knew he was sad or worried about something: those were the only - rare - occasions in which the Zemeni didn’t speak, even though Wylan was sure his head was screaming. Anyways, he knew in those occasions Jesper loved to dissolve his thoughts in a cup of hot cocoa, so that was exactly what he had prepared for him as soon as they got home.

“Hey there” he said softly, placing a hand on Jesper’s shoulder “Take this”

The sharpshooter gave him a weak smile and took the cup in his hand: he sit against the wall in order to be able to drink it better. Still, he didn’t say a word.

“What’s wrong?” Wylan asked, now a little worried. Usually after the first sip of cocoa the sharpshooter started talking, but now he was silent and the redhead was silently panicking. Had he done something wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time, after all he was not perfect, in fact he was the exact opposite of perfection.

“Ioneserveu”

Wylan didn’t understand what Jesper said as he murmured with such low voice, his eyes fixed on the cocoa.

“What? What is it?”

The sharpshooter released a long breath and he finally looked up at his boyfriend: meeting his beautiful blue eyes made him feel even worse.

“I don’t deserve you” he said with a painful smile.

Wylan felt a shot straight to his heart: the gray eyes that were looking at him were a storm, they were troubled, they were honest.

“What the fuck are you saying, Jesper?”

“There, I got you saying the f-word”

“Stop joking. What does I don’t deserve you mean?”

“It’s a very simple Kerch sentence. I don’t feel like I’m enough for you and I don’t think I actually am”

Wylan took Jesper’s hand in his and talked with broken voice “But why? We’ve been together for almost a year now, Jes. Where is this coming from?”

Jesper huffed, he was not comfortable with that talk. He wanted to tell Wylan how he was feeling, but he wasn’t good at dealing with emotions; moreover, what if his boyfriend hadn’t noticed his differences yet? What if he was the one to point them out to him and ruin their relationship forever?

“I feel like I’m wasting your time here. These months were amazing for me, but for you? Tonight I saw how your eyes shine when you talk about music and all those composers, and I see that same joy when you explain to me your impossible equations or the way you build bombs, and I smile and I nod because I know how much that stuff means to you, but I don’t understand anything and- how long can this last? How long before you get tired of-”

Jesper suddenly stopped: he couldn’t finish the sentence. If he said that last word out loud, the whole feeling would become real and he really didn’t want to burst into tears in front of Wylan.

...me? How long before you get tired of me?

The sharpshooter found himself in a whole new situation: in seventeen years of life he never once thought anybody could get tired of him, he did his best to be as energetic as possible and people loved being around him. But Wylan was no ordinary boy: he was so special and he didn’t deserve someone as ordinary as Jesper felt.

He stared at his merchling, looking for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear: but Wylan was smiling softly at him, not a sign of concern on his pale face. He got nearer to the sharpshooter and he kissed him, slowly dragging his body down with his. They were now laying next to each other, Wylan had for the first time ever Jesper’s head resting on his chest - it was always the opposite as their heights were clearly different.

After kissing Jesper on his head, Wylan spoke in a whisper “Are you happy with me, Jes?”

The sharpshooter was enjoing being cuddled by his boyfriend, he had calmed down a little, but he still felt like he didn’t deserve all those attentions.

“Yes Wy, I am happy. I am so happy. And because of that I’m afraid I’ll screw everything up”

“You want to know why I fell in love with you in the first place?”

Jesper grinned “Not if then you’re going to dump me because I’ve ruined everything”

Wylan gently slapped him on the neck “I would never want to be without you, you idiot”

“Fine then” Jesper allowed, his heart beating faster for what his boyfriend just said.

Before talking, Wylan started caressing Jesper’s dark hair “I have built bombs and explosives in my life, Jesper. And I know a lot of things about chemistry. When I met you, I felt like everything I knew about explosions was nothing compared to you. You are a living bomb, and I’m saying it with a positive meaning: you are like a constant explosion of energy, you don’t just burst once, you keep on doing it and that is the exact energy I didn’t know I needed in my life. You have no scientific explanation and I love it”

Jesper breathed heavily and Wylan thought the was holding back tears: he took his chin in his hand and he lifted his head, looking into his eyes just to find out they were actually wet. The redhead smiled at him.

“I don’t care if you don’t know things about music or maths or anything else, one boring nerd is enough in a coulple, don’t you think?”

Jesper laughed “You’re my favourite nerd, you know”

“I should hope so! Anyways, I asked you whether you’re happy with me and there’s a reason for that: when we got togther, I had the same worries about myself. You were a charming, extroverted thief and I didn’t feel like I could fit in your world. But then one day you hugged me and I thought I feel like I fit in these arms. I understood I was happy with you, and to me that was enough. If you’re happy with me as well, then we don’t have to worry about anything else”

“Saints, you really are a poet, Van Sunshine” said Jesper with a grin, but before Wylan could reply he reached for his lips and he kissed him for long, silently thanking him for everything he said, for everything he gave him not just in that moment, but every day since they met.

Maybe their worlds were different, but while kissing and hugging and looking for more, Wylan and Jesper couldn’t help but notice how perfect they were for each other: their lips matched, their hands coincided perfectly, their bodies completed each other.

They were happy together and they loved each other.

And yes, that was far more than enough.

#wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan x jesper #six of crows #wesper fanfic

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lucifers-favorite-pen · 3 years

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Unfinished Lessons

Fandom: Obey me

Genre: Angst, so much angst

Pairings: Lucifer x Blair

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: Mention of death, lots of sadness, lots of angst

I would just like to apologize in advance for any small errors in this writing. I literally could not to a thorough edit because reading it again made me so genuinely sad. Get a box of tissues. You have been warned.

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Context: Blair was taken from the HoL about a year ago, and was presumed dead. This broke everyone’s heart, but it broke her husband, Lucifer’s, the most. He didn’t know how to exist without her. He buried himself in his work, and in bottles, and wouldn’t let anyone console him. Not even Diavolo. When he finally was starting to learn how to be a person again, she shows back up, in chains due to trying to break into HoL, and has no recollection of him. Her once beautiful, warm black hair was a stark white, and her face looked like she had been modified slightly, like someone had tweaked the sliders in the character creation section of one of Leviathan’s RPGs. Either way, she wasn’t his wife. She was a poorly made copy of her sent here to torment him, to remind him of how he broke the vow he took to protect her when he married her.

Of course they kept her there, to interrogate her about Faerie and the people she was working for. Specifically why she was sent back to the Devildom in the first place. She was confused, and refused to believe she was who they were saying she was, and was extremely hostile.

Over the course of a month, she started to put some pieces together.

-Beel crying while pointing at a picture of him walking her down the aisle on her wedding day, begging her to believe him and to remember.

-Belphie showing her a video of their game of extreme chicken, pointing to Blair sitting triumphantly on Beel’s shoulders in knee and elbow pads as they both celebrated their victory.

-Asmo showing her her wedding dress, and gushing over how much he loved the way she looked and how well he did her hair and make up.

It was all too much evidence pointing to one conclusion. She felt a gnawing inside her chest everyday, like something was begging to be noticed, but she didn’t know what. She didn’t understand what she was feeling, sadness? Anxiety? Uncertainty? She had never felt anything but devotion and determination. How had she gone 25 years feeling only those two feelings?

She decided to go see Lucifer, the man who had been avoiding her like the plague. The man who was supposedly her husband while she was human. She had questions that she somehow knew only he could answer. She was determined to get to the bottom of this.

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It was pretty late, but she couldn’t sleep. Her brain was going a million miles a minute with everything she had learned in the past month, and she needed to speak with him. She shrugged on a cardigan and padded down to his room, hearing a soft classical strings melody from the inside. She knocked timidly twice.

Lucifer knew who it was. That was how she knocked on his door when she first came to the Devildom, and how she knocked on his door everyday after that. Old habits die hard, apparently.

He sighed, filling his wine glass, “Come in,”.

Blair poked her head in and looked at him, making sure it was ok to come in. He glanced up at her from his work, not being able to look at her more than that, and asked in monotone, “What could you possibly need from me at this hour?”.

She hesitantly steps into the room, recognizing the music as Chopin’s Piano Concerto in E minor, specifically the second movement. She didn’t know how she knew that, as she had never heard it before, but she shook it off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she mutters as she slowly steps toward him. Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. Blair didn’t sleep well her first couple months in the Devildom either. She had trouble adjusting to a new space, it seems that trait didn’t die with her either.

“And what do you expect me to do about that? Belphegor is the Avatar of Sloth, go bother him,” he says harshly, trying to get her to leave.

Blair stands her ground, and holds her head a little higher, “I just had some questions,”.

“About what?” he snaps.

“You know what,” she retorts, just as harsh. If this was what it was going to take to get what she needed, then that was that. She tried to be gentle, seeing as his brothers warned her that he was a wreck, but she wasn’t going to let him bully her into leaving.

Lucifer sighs, dropping his pen on the page and rubbing his hands over his face. He looked exhausted. She noted the dark circles beginning to form under his eyes, and the messiness of his hair. She noticed how his shirt was wrinkled, the tie was crooked, and noted the slight tremor in his hand as he brought the glass of wine to his lips. He gestured his hand out to her, silently telling her to ask away.

She looked around the room a bit before asking. Honestly, she didn’t think she would make it this far, and didn’t even know where to begin. Though, her eyes catch on a large framed painting hanging above his bed. It depicted him in a pressed tuxedo and a tail coat, sitting in a red velvet chair. On his knee sat a woman, with warm black hair, and icy blue eyes. She wore a magnificent black dress that hugged every curve perfectly with a train so long it couldn’t fit in the painting. They both looked at each other with a look of adoration and passion she hadn’t seen before. The way her hand brushed his cheek, and the way his hand held that hand so tenderly. The way his other hand came to hold her chin, and the slight curvature of his lips. It all was… familiar? The scene made her chest hurt in a way she didn’t understand.

“Is that us?” she asks, smiling and pointing to the painting. Lucifer turns to look at it as well, leaning his face on his chin as he stared.

“No,” he says, not looking at her. Her eyebrows furrow together, and she shakes her head. “But-”

“That is my wife and I on our wedding day. I had that portrait commissioned so I could capture her like that for the rest of my days. However, she wouldn't agree to be painted unless I also was in the portrait. I’m glad she insisted, I rather like how it turned out,” he says, a longing in his tone he was too tired to mask as he stared at the painting.

“But I thought-”

“You are not her. You are a pathetic excuse of a copy of her. Your cheekbones are too pronounced, your chin is too pointy, your ears are pointy, your nose is too small, and your hair-” he cuts himself off to sigh and take another swig of his beverage. His words bite at her heart and she feels an unfamiliar pressure building behind her eyes. What was going on with her?

“It’s like they tried to perfect perfection,” he mutters to himself, dragging his eyes away from the portrait and back to his glass. He manages to meet her gaze, cutting more daggers into her soul with his crimson eyes. “My wife is dead. You are not her, and you will never be her. You are a husk of the woman she was sent to torment me. A punishment for my failure to her as a husband by my father, I’m sure” he spits at her. He pours himself another glass and takes a gulp of the liquid, still staring at her even though looking at her makes his heart break all over again. He watches her look at her feet and start to pick at her nails, a tell tale sign she was nervous. She still had all the little mannerisms he studied while he was falling in love with her. She still tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she read. She still held pencils and pens wrong, and twirled them through her fingers while she was deep in thought. She still ate all the different types of food on her plate one at a time. This was her, but it just wasn’t. He would rather fall a thousand more times, than see her like this.

“I, um, I still had one more question,” she says quietly, barely looking up to meet his gaze. He groans loudly in response, and yells, “What?!”. She flinches at his tone, an action she doesn’t remember ever doing up until this moment. He instantly regrets it, but refuses to look like he does, or to apologize for it.

“I was wondering if you could tell me the name of a piano piece? I’ve been wracking my brain trying to remember the name, and your brothers said you were familiar with classical music. I thought I’d ask,” she says, her tone small as she tried not to anger him. He sighed and rested his chin in his hand.

“I will do my best,” he says.

She nods and mutters, “Thank you,” before turning to go sit at the piano. She begins pressing keys, and he knows by the fourth note that it’s the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. He doesn’t have the energy to stop her though, he lets her play, each note feeling like a lash on his heart.

She’s playing it well, but there’s no emotion. It’s like a robot was playing it, and he knew it was because she was incapable of feeling the emotions being conveyed in the piece. That fact stung more than he thought it would.

She got about two minutes into the piece before she stopped abruptly, taking her hands off the keys and placing them in her lap. “That’s all I know of it. I’ve never been taught how to play, I don’t even know how to read music, but I know how to play this, and I don’t know what it is. Any ideas?” she says, finally looking over at him. He had his eyes closed, and his chin was cradled in his hands. She felt an ache in her chest when she saw the shine of a single tear that had rolled down his face. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at a point in front of him that wasn’t her, before rubbing his face again and standing up from his desk. He moved silently over to a file cabinet against the wall and looked through it for a minute, before sliding out a thin book. Lucifer looked at it, and sighed quietly before moving over to the piano. Blair shifted to the side to make room for him on the bench, which he sat elegantly on as he flipped through the book. When he got to the page he needed, he set the book on the stand, took a deep breath to steady himself, and began playing.

Blair could tell he was playing the rest of the piece for her. She watched intently as his fingers glided expertly over the keys, and watched his face twist into a look of what can only be described as agony held back by sheer will power. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows were knitted together, creating a dark storm in his eyes. He swore to himself he would never listen to this piece again. Not after what it meant to him. And here he was, playing it as if it didn’t make him feel like his chest was about explode.

He finished the piece, and heaved a great sigh of relief, the look washing away from his face and relaxing back into exhaustion. Lucifer stares at his hands for a second before saying, “The piece you were playing was the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I just played you the rest of it,”.

He pauses briefly, still not looking at her, “The reason you can play it without knowing how to read music, is due to muscle memory. I was teaching Blair this piece, though I begged her to let me teach her something less mainstream, nevertheless she insisted on learning it, and she practiced it diligently,”. A small, sad smile crawls across his lips as he says that, but it’s gone as soon as it appears.

“You can’t play the last third of the piece because,” he pauses, taking a shaky breath to steady himself as he feels the familiar knot form in his throat and heat behind his eyes. Feelings he experienced for the first time the night he proposed to her. The thought felt like a punch to the gut.

“Because I was unable to finish teaching it to her before-” he cuts himself off. He clenches his fists and jaw, shutting his eyes. He felt like his chest was going to cave in at the memories of their lessons. The image of her having finished playing what he had assigned her to work on, and looking up at him with hopeful eyes seared its way into his memories. Another image of the cute, frustrated little quirk in her brow when her fingers just wouldn’t move the way she wanted them to stabbed like a dagger in his heart.

A quick clear of this throat and another deep breath brought him back to some stable ground. He looked over at Blair, to see her eyes already on him. They were wet, and brimming with tears. Finding out what she knows now solidified that the stories she had been told, the horror of what happened to her was all true. Here sat in front of her was her husband, yet she knew nothing of the love and adoration gifted to the woman in the painting. She felt the hot tears spill down her face at the gaping hole that was just ripped through her chest.

She felt robbed.

She felt robbed of the opportunity to be a wife, to be his wife. She felt robbed of the opportunity of love and to be loved as much as the people in the painting loved each other. She felt robbed of the possibility of building a family with him. She felt robbed of the memories, and the feelings, of everything. They took everything from her. She envied the woman in the portrait to the point of anger, and to know it was once her, and to know he will never look at her like that, only made her angry.

Lucifer, as if on instinct alone, caught one of the tears falling down her face with his finger, and tucked her hair behind her painfully unfamiliar pointed ear. He cupped her face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe away the wetness gathering under her eyes as he looked into them for the first time since the last time he saw them.

They were the same.

The same eyes he looked into when he told her he loved her for the first time. The same pools of sky blue he could look into and feel at peace whenever he was stressed. The same eyes he stared into when they stood at an altar while he promised no harm would ever become of her.

The same eyes that held sheer terror as she screamed out for him while he was frozen in place by unfamiliar magic; helpless as he watched them carrying her kicking and screaming far away from him, never to see her again.

He was unable to hold back the tears streaming down his face as he stared into his wife’s perfect, baby blue orbs.

“At least, they kept your eyes, darling” he whispered.

As if also on instinct, she brought her hands to meet his and leaned closer up to his face, like she had done many times before in a past life. He also leaned closer, wanting to feel her lips on his, just one last time, but was unable to shake the gut wrenching feeling of someone else’s hands over his, and how her face no longer fit perfectly in his cupped hands.

“No,” he whispered painfully against her lips. He rips himself away from her and strides over to brace himself against a wall. She is left breathless and empty at his sudden absence, and looks over to him. She opens her mouth to apologize.

“Please leave,” is all he says with his back turned to her. She’s frozen, unable to move as a whirlwind of emotions takes over her ability to move. Everything in her body screamed at her to hold him, to tell him everything was going to be ok. Her heart begged her to cling to the body of this stranger who wanted nothing to do with her like it was the mast of a sinking ship.

“Please, Blair” he says, his voice cracking as he says her name to her for the first time since she’s been there. This was enough to bring her out of it. She stands up and walks quickly towards the door. As she opens it, she looks back at him one last time, able to see the side of his face now. His jaw is set, his mouth is set in a straight line, but rivers of tears fall from his eyes and on to the floor beneath him. She turns, and exists through the door, shutting it softly behind her.

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Bonus Text Thread!

Blair: I want to fix this. I’m going to talk to Solomon and Satan tomorrow and gather all of the resources regarding Fae magic the Devildom has. If that isn’t enough, we’ll search the other realms as well. But I can’t do this without you, I need your help.

Blair: Please Lucifer, help me take back what they stole from me. From you. From us. Please.

Lucifer: What do you think I’ve been doing for the passed two years? We’ve exhausted all of our resources and then some trying to get you back. Even after you died, Barbatos and I tried for months after I felt our pact snap to try to get into Faerie to bring your body home. There is no hope for us, Blair. I’m sorry, go to sleep.

Blair: There has to be a way! The magic that was used to create me was said to be impossible, but here I am! None of you are familiar with Fae magic, I am. I haven’t had a chance to look over any materials, or try any spells on myself! Look, you can sit there and drink yourself into a stupor, mourning your dead wife for the rest of eternity if you really want to. I am going to do whatever it takes to get my fucking life back, and I’ll do it with or without you. So you can either help me move the process along, or you can stand idly by and suffer some more. It’s your choice.

Lucifer: ...There might be something. It’s a long shot, but it’s something. Meet me in the royal library tomorrow at 5:00. Bring Satan, and Solomon.

Lucifer: Thank you, Blair.

Masterpost

#alternate title: sadboi sonata #obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me au #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #lucifer x mc angst #lucifer x mc #obey me angst

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wedreamedlove · 4 years

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Into Your World [Xu Mo Character Study]

I'm back with another post that's been rattling around in my brain, except it's a bit disconnected. However, there's been a theme that I've wanted to focus in on with Xu Mo: each other's worlds, their dreams (goals and/or fancies), and water imagery.

Contains spoilers for Chapter 24 and unreleased dates in ENG.

First, I want to give a disclaimer that MC is pretty much the only person who can get into the mens' inner worlds, and that's why they're the romantic main characters; but there's just something a little poignant with Xu Mo because of his archetype.

Li Zeyan's archetype makes him belong to another world because of his wealthy background and social status. Zhou Qiluo's archetype makes him belong to another world because it's the dark side of humanity, and he actively tries to keep MC away from that. Bai Qi's archetype is how they're already in the same world and they just need to open up to each other LOL he's the guy next door.

However, Xu Mo's archetype is literally the alienated genius [Official Life History] since he was a child and, after he lost his parents, he just threw himself into his studies and goals and didn't bother making connections with anyone.

Xu Mo: Mm, I graduated early.

Xu Mo's tone was normal, as if it were a matter unrelated to him and there was no sense of pride at all. However, it still made people impressed.

MC: So, when you were in high school, you spent all your time studying?

Xu Mo: At that time, yes.

MC: Why?

Xu Mo: Silly, why are there so many why's? It's just like when you were going to take your entrance exams, there were things I also needed to do.

[Blossom Date - CN Translation]

Heck, even now, MC is the only one he replies to in his Moments [Official Character Profile].

Since the moment we meet him, he takes on the "mentor" role and teaches MC about things. She mentions this all the time, about how he teaches her the laws of the world, etc. Xu Mo is innately part of another world because the realm of geniuses is not supposed to be understood.

However, this isn't a one-way street. Just as we can't understand them, they can't understand us. So, as MC makes an effort to understand Xu Mo, he is also making an effort to understand her.

IMO this is what makes the following interactions extremely tender and romantic.

MC: The white noise you recommended last time was really effective! Lately, my work efficiency has gone up!

Xu Mo: That's good.

Xu Mo: But, instead of your work efficiency, I hope it was useful for your sleeping problem.

MC: Recently, I listen to the sound of rain before sleeping. It feels like everything around me gets quiet when I relax and listen to it.

Xu Mo: It seems like our preferences are the same. I also like to listen to the rain when I'm relaxing.

Xu Mo: The sound of rain droplets striking the roof is calming, isn't it?

MC: It's great collecting only the sounds you like and then completely entering your own world.

Xu Mo: Then, will you also let me hear those sounds?

Xu Mo: I'd like to hear your world.

By the way, given the timeline of this conversation, this is an incredible foreshadowing of his [Nightmare ASMR].

One time, when I was studying in England, I spent months finishing a particularly tricky piece of my dissertation. After I sent it through the mail, it was already nine in the morning. I was a bit tired and planned on sleeping. The weather in England is often rainy, so it was also raining that morning and it was dark. The sound of the rain striking the windowsill was clear and it sounded soothing too.

Then, there was the sound of a piano from below. It was Chopin’s Nocturne, and played very well. Every note mixed in with the sound of the rain… unhurried drops, pitter-pattering. All was quiet, as if I was separated from the world. I stared at the curtains that were being lifted by the wind and, before I knew it, I fell asleep.

[...]

Although I don’t remember it at all anymore, I dimly feel that when I was small I also experienced a night like this. The sound of the rain, the sound of the piano… Outside the window, it’s very, very cold. I can hear the sound of the wind striking the window. And in my half-awake and half-asleep state, I’m put into a warm embrace… Closing my eyes like this… I’m able to sink into a deep, deep sleep… Just like… this right now…

[Fastened Door to the Heart]

MC: From time to time, I just want to go to your world and take a look.

Caption: Actually, I'd rather go to your world and take a look.

So, anyway, going back to the theme of entering each other's inner worlds. You can see it explicitly said here in the Reading Date. They basically exchanged reading material because she wants to understand him, with his complicated science book, and he wants to understand her, with the comics she read when she was young.

Okay, now we're going to switch tracks for a bit and this might seem disconnected (I warned you!), but take my hand because I'm definitely trying to go somewhere with this.

Part of understanding someone's world is learning about their inner thoughts, their dreams, their wishes, their fantasies, however silly or childish or abstract all of these can be.

This is also an incredibly huge point with Xu Mo because, through MC, we're supposed to feel a sense of pressure from such an accomplished scholar character, but he always works hard to diminish that sense of intimidation and presence [Xu Mo's EQ Character Study] and he never demeans her interests or makes her feel lesser for her intelligence.

Xu Mo: Either way, there must be something that only you can create.

MC: Something only I can make... Ah, I know!

Getting an idea, I divided the batter in my hands into two and made a fish and a wing.

I tried combining the two, but something felt missing.

Xu Mo, who came to my side at some point, took a spoon and used it to make scales on the back of the fish.

Xu Mo: Don't you think it looks more like one with this?

Xu Mo: Can you tell me why you thought of this?

MC: ... You won't laugh when you hear it?

Xu Mo: I think it depends on what you tell me.

MC: Then I won't tell you!

Xu Mo: I'm kidding. Will you tell me?

I didn't have anywhere to run when he looked at me and so, cornered, I told him a childish thought that I had never told anyone up to now.

MC: When I was small and I heard the story of Qixi, I thought the Milky Way was a real river with water running through it.

MC: So I ended up worrying over whether the swallows would have an accident, fall into the water, and drown...

MC: I thought that'd be sad for the swallows and so I lied to myself the entire time.

MC: That the ones who made the bridge for the weaver girl and cowherd where flying fish.

I moved the flat fish with its wing in front of him while I spoke, making it fly clumsily.

Xu Mo burst out laughing, as if he wasn't able to hold it back. My face turned bright red from the embarrassment and I returned the fish to the desk.

MC: It's really stupid, isn't it...

Xu Mo: Silly girl, you have batter on your face.

He wiped my face with the pad of his finger. There was a smile that he couldn't suppress on his mouth.

MC revealed her inner child to him, which she had never told anyone else, and he doesn't judge her for it. Please tell me you can feel the tenderness radiating out of this interaction!

Now, although the above interaction was Qixi-themed, I still find it intriguing that she replaced the swallows with (flying) fish. Because Xu Mo is all about water imagery [Xu Mo Character Study] and this appears in their next interaction below.

[Sonnet In The Eyes] "It looks like I'll be inside your most beautiful dream for certain."

I'm not going to do line quotes here because it's too long LOL but in this date, Spring Morning, they end up having a conversation about dreams and, one time when Xu Mo dozed off in his lab, he dreamed that he was a fish.

His surroundings were dark and he couldn't see the state of the water but, with a thought, he could swim a long distance. When he opened his mouth, only bubbles would come out. When he raised his head, he would see the light filtering through the waves. Sometimes, he would hear the chirps of birds transmitted through surface of the lake.

He knew he was dreaming, because he's a light sleeper, but he still observed how the wind seemed to blow above the lake and that it was the height of summer. Maybe, when it got dark, he'd be able to see the stars and fireflies. He thought about asking another fish for directions but he couldn't find anyone around him. Then he woke up.

At that time, he had run into problems in his work and, even after half a year, there was no progress. In his dream, he rashly thought that if he really was a fish then he wouldn't need to work. But, after he woke up, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Later, he concluded that this dream was able to let him relax a little, set his mind blank, and that's when he could get back to work.

Look at him tell MC about his dreams, reveal his struggles, and reveal his inner thoughts. He's telling her about the time when, even someone like him, met with difficulties and felt the urge to just throw it all out and give up. He's letting her into his world and that's love, baby!

Psst, don't forget about the water imagery with him being a fish.

[Flowers on the Path] "I thought it over a thousand times, and then there came a reply."

Xu Mo: Are you home already? I saw the photo you sent me.

MC: Mhm, I just got home.

Xu Mo: Lately, you've been sending me photos of clouds. Is there any special meaning behind them?

MC: Not really. I just wanted to share with Professor Xu, who is always cooped up in his lab, a good way to reduce stress.

Xu Mo: Oh? What is it?

MC: First, look at the picture.

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm looking.

MC: Then close your eyes and imagine yourself as that cloud. Tell me, what do you see?

Xu Mo: I seem... to only see pitch darkness?

MC: Pfff, I mean you can use your imagination. For example... what sights you see and what you feel.

Xu Mo: Alright, I see... a clear sky and bright sunlight. Sometimes... birds will fly past.

MC: Will they say hello to you?

Xu Mo: They'll slow down and roll around on me, frolicking.

MC: Haha, and then?

Xu Mo: And then I'll drift around leisurely like this until I see another cloud. Although it's our first meeting, I'll feel like I've known her since a long time ago.

MC: Maybe she feels the same way.

Xu Mo: So we'll click immediately and slowly lean against each other.

MC: Hahaha, as expected of our Professor Xu! Your imagination is so rich.

Xu Mo: This method really is effective and it can let me clear out my mind. After resting for a while, even my feelings are much calmer.

MC: Oh! Then Professor Xu will have two methods of relieving stress now.

Xu Mo: Two?

MC: Yup, during the day, you can look at the sky and imagine yourself as a free floating "cloud"; at night, in your dreams, you can be a "fish" swimming in the great sea with no restraints. Like this, regardless of whether it's day or night, you can say goodbye to your worries.

Xu Mo: Haha, I have to go up into the sky and then down into the water. Why do I feel like I'm even busier?

MC: Hahaha, that's true.

Xu Mo: However, compared to these, I have another method which I like even more.

MC: Oh? What is it?

Xu Mo: It's staying beside "another cloud" or "another fish". Even if we don't do anything, it can get rid of an entire day's worth of exhaustion and I'll be able to get a good rest. May I ask what she thinks about this method?

[Reducing Stress - Call]

Callbacks. I love PG's callbacks so much.

But, linking this back to everything, they're both exercising their imagination together and it shows their inner world more to each other. Not to mention, they literally bring back how he once dreamed about being a fish to escape the stress of his work.

Now, I'm changing gears again, but this time I want to talk about the physical world they're both in and how their different philosophies set them on opposite sides. I wrote about the [Use of Horror in Ch19 Study] and how, in that chapter, you can see her greatest fears manifested in what Ares does there, but also what she resolves herself to do.

They literally walk away from each other because, according to Xu Mo, their "destinations" were different from the very beginning.

However, when we get to Chapter 24...

MC: ... What if the future we both want is different? I might become your obstacle.

Xu Mo: Right now isn't the time to come to a conclusion.

Xu Mo: Reality will inevitably have pain. However, to run away from reality because of that will just lead to more regret.

Xu Mo: I'm certain the future you wish for will be beautiful and it'll be able to touch anyone's heart.

Xu Mo: You're going to take me to that sort of future. Right?

MC: ... Yes!

MC: But after the worlds become one, even if I fail then I won't be able to do things over again. If that happens...

Xu Mo: Everything will end.

Xu Mo: But that's the path you chose, right? I believe in your choice.

Xu Mo: This time, I'll follow behind you.

He had always been walking in front of me, but now he was entrusting himself to the choice I believed in.

I made my decision.

MC: Follow me closely then.

Xu Mo grabbed my hand and lightly swung it.

Xu Mo: Is this good?

My cheeks burned and I spoke incoherently.

MC: Then... don't ever let go!

Xu Mo: Mm, I'm holding on tightly.

He showed a gentle smile that was like the sunlight of spring.

Before I knew it, our fingers intertwined and it was like we exchanged a quiet promise.

I looked at our joined hands and something hot suddenly welled up in my heart.

In this immense space-time, there were countless obstacles stretched ahead of us. For a long time, we both walked with our backs to each other.

There were still unsolved mysteries between us, but now I felt like I could face anything.

This time it was my turn to pull his hand and run towards that spring without stopping.

That's love! This is love! He loves her so much!

From the beginning, Xu Mo and MC were people in different worlds (their innate nature and their philosophies) but, throughout their relationship, they both keep making efforts to understand each other and enter each other's inner worlds.

It literally culminates here in Xu Mo willing to set down his beliefs and follow hers. He's trusting in her vision of the future and that's basically a proposal from someone like him.

I literally don't have anything else to say without devolving into sappy poetry or romantic lines or something, but these two have laid their souls bare to each other and accepted every side of the other person, regardless of how alien, childish, vicious, ugly, or weird it can be. Literally, "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known."

#love and producer #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #love and produc(ing) meta

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joonsgalaxy · 5 years

Text

true care (m) |06

→ pairing: bodyguard!Jungkook x female reader

→ genre: fake dating au, fluff/romance, angst, (smut. not in this chap tho)

→ word count: 5,7 k

• summary: your (endearingly) shy bodyguard—hired by your father—would do anything for you. even though you roll your eyes at his persistence and pretend there’s no need for him to follow you to every and any place you go, there might be many more hazards in your life than you let on. and you might end up needing him in more ways than you—or your father—would ever think.

! warnings: mentions of toxic past relationship throughout the series; mentions of alcohol

the series masterlist is in my bio

↠ chapter 6: does it look like i know what i’m doing?

It is rather easy to forget about mundane things from your past. Even more so, when these things had occurred at least 17 years ago. But a child’s excitement and innocence can turn the most dull and basic events into something beautiful and worth remembering, painted with the brightest colours that fade as one begins to realize the reality of them; then an adult’s hopelessness and cynicism starts to comprehend those memories as something devastating and more or less heart-breaking.

You could still remember the smell in the kitchen, exuded from the pots on the stove. And you could still recall the sunray beaming in through the window that would be wiped clean by the house maid three times a week.

‘Mommy, is daddy going to eat dinner with us?’

Your mother, who, at that time, seemed to be the most beautiful and powerful woman in the world to you, threw three handfuls of chickpeas into a pan and let herself think for a moment. ‘No, honey, I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’

She sighed in a way a child wouldn’t be able to understand the true meaning behind it. Then, she smiled. ‘He’s working late so we could buy more of those chickpeas that you enjoy so much, love.’

‘____.’

You snapped out of your daze. Your grandmother was staring at you with concern in her eyes. ‘You haven’t even touched your chickpea stew. Is everything alright?’

‘Everything’s fine.’ Except for the fact that you were at the restaurant with your family and you couldn’t even focus on the dinner or simple conversations—the whole time your mind was elsewhere. It felt as though there were too many distracting things happening in your life and you were losing control over all of them.

‘Are you sure?’ Your grandfather asked. You felt like you were put under the spotlight.

‘Yup, I’m just not that hungry.’

‘Maybe you’re ill?’ Your father chimed in.

Maybe you’re keeping secrets from me and that makes me lose my appetite.

You just gave a shrug.

After a moment of contemplation, your family resumed their conversation about some company that was about to go bankrupt.

The food in front of you didn’t look appetizing. You already wanted to leave.

Some kind of strange force made you look over your shoulder. Two bodyguards in elegant suits were sitting behind one of the tables, not far from your own. Your father’s bodyguard was talking on the phone; Jeongguk was watching other patrons of the restaurant, vigilant eyes scanning the place for any kind of unusual activity. One of his hands was on the surface of the table, fingers lightly dancing upon it.

His eyes locked with yours.

A rush of warmth surged through your body, and you averted your gaze.

Images of the night before flooded in. Jeongguk panting, biting his lip, doing everything you told him to. Oh, what a sinful night it had been. For that exact reason you were trying to forget about it, to imagine it had never actually happened. The act was highly inappropriate, vulgar, unprofessional. It simply couldn’t occur. You were 100% certain Jeongguk wanted to forget about it as much as you did.

You’d pretend nothing ever happened and you’d be alright.

‘Darling,’ you heard your grandmother say, ‘I was meaning to ask you, why did you break up with Kwangsun? He’ll be a great engineer someday.’

‘We just weren’t made for each other.’

She scoffed softly. She never believed in soulmates, or fate or anything of that sort. Not that you wholeheartedly believed in it, but it was clear Kwangsun and you weren’t meant to be.

Your grandmother always used to think that if you try hard enough to keep a relationship alive, it worked. She probably thought you didn’t try hard enough. The truth was, you did. You let lots of things slide; then you tried honest communication, but eventually it got too much to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Now you’re hanging out with those artists, dancers, painters. What kind of future do you see for yourself?’

You scowled. ‘I’m not a sixteen-year-old.’

‘You sure do act like one,’ your grandmother said.

That was why you had to mentally prepare for these family dinners. They saw you as someone they could mould a perfect person from.

You exhaled to calm yourself. It helped you just by the tiniest bit.

‘I watched your father ruin his personal life by making mistakes I want to protect you from—

‘If he hadn’t made those mistakes I wouldn’t have been born.’

If truth be told, you were always wondering if your parents were truly in love at some point. You wondered whether the differences between them were the main cause for the divorce. You never really talked about it with your dad.

You grandfather’s face crumbled in what could had been interpreted as regret. Regret for not interrupting the conversation in time. You knew your grandmother wasn’t talking about you as a mistake, but hearing her talk about your parents like that broke your heart into a million fragile pieces.

Your grandmother exhaled slowly. ‘That’s not what I meant—

‘Let’s change the subject,’ your father chimed in. ‘We’ve been through this one too many times.’

Your grandmother started rearranging cutlery on the table as though it helped to put her thoughts together. ‘Fine,’ she said softly. ‘Just let me tell you one more thing, dear.’ Her eyes were back on you. ‘You should seriously consider dating Kim Seokjin.’

You almost choked on air and died right there and then. She was being ridiculous. ‘Oh, just how my dad’s dating his mom, right? That would be quite a family.’

All three of your family members looked rather stunned, completely puzzled.

‘What?’ Your grandparents directed their questions toward your father. Apparently, they had no idea.

‘Well, at least one of us can date without their parents’ knowledge,’ you murmured.

Your dad stuttered, cleared his throat. ‘I, uh… It’s nothing serious. And I shouldn’t be explaining myself, anyways. I’m an adult. Been one for quite some time now.’

‘But…’ Your grandmother looked crestfallen. ‘Seokjin and—

‘She will never date him, drop that already.’

Maybe this was the right time to get your father talking. ‘So why did you introduce him to me?’

He shrugged, nonchalantly answering, ‘he’s a nice guy; might be your step-brother someday.’

You stared at him for a moment, ruminating on what he’d said. He was joking, right? ‘Wait, you said it’s nothing serious.’

Your dad, scratching the back of his head, drew his gaze toward your grandparents, then to the food in front of him; he did not know what to say.

Not only he didn’t let you know about his love life before, but he was also hiding the fact that you might be calling someone your step-brother soon, which, truthfully, seemed a huge fucking deal to you, for you were a single child. God… what else was he hiding from you?

Not one person behind the table managed to think of something to say. In that kind of awkward silence, all of you got back to finishing the dinner. To finishing the glasses of wine, to be precise. All of you seemed to need a drink or two after that kind of conversation. Your grandfather waved for the waiter to bring a bottle of red.

Chopin’s soft music and indistinct chatter of other patrons sneaked into your head and seemed to get louder and louder by the passing second. The quieter it was at your own table the harsher the sounds in the restaurant grew. It was deafening.

With a pounding heart you glanced over your shoulder. Jeongguk’s eyes were already on you. Meeting his gaze made your heart hammer even faster. It was like the booming thunder in the sky after a hot spring day. And somehow, in a very odd way, in the midst of that chaos, the skies with all these cracking threads looked absolutely beautiful.

It was confusing. It was too much.

‘Excuse me.’ You pushed to your feet and started toward the ladies’ room.

You welcomed the silence in the restroom. It was nice. You were alone, only surrounded by framed mirrors, painted walls and floral scent.

You washed your hands thoroughly just to have something to do and then stared at your reflection in the mirror. Were you truly making a mistake by hanging out with people without degrees in law, medicine or economics? Was hanging out with them even on the table anymore? You and Mina got into a fight and still weren’t talking to each other. After the fight, the world seemed to start crumbling. Piece by piece, cracking with thunderous booms, falling apart and disappearing into nothingness.

How does your future look like? What kind of people are in it?

You heard a knock from the other side of the door. It was odd. Usually people didn’t knock; there were three unoccupied toilet stalls inside.

You saw the door open, revealing your bodyguard. Was something wrong? Did something happen to your father or your grandparents? Were you supposed to run or hide?

It’s rather fascinating how people’s minds can create thousands of possible scenarios in just mere seconds.

Jeongguk stepped inside gingerly, closed the door behind him. You watched him with curious eyes, a pounding heart and legs ready to sprint.

However, he didn’t look like he was in a rush. Quite the opposite—the boy seemed to be in thought as if crafting some sort of a plan, careful and collected.

‘You okay?’ He asked.

Wait… so he was just checking up on you?

What could you have possibly told him? He wasn’t your therapist. Probably not even your friend, if you think about it. The less he knows the better. You’d already shared too much with him.

‘You can’t be here,’ you said, an almost tangible wall high and uncrackable rising around you.

‘Just wanted to make sure—

‘It’s a women’s bathroom.’

‘I know,’ Jeongguk said, nodding, seemingly unfazed.

Quite bold of him to come in there. For you. That tugged at your heartstrings, but you decided to ignore the feeling.

A corner of his lips twitched upwards and he strolled to one of the mirrors right beside you. He looked at his own reflection. You looked at it too. Jeongguk was handsome, even if his features sometimes appeared to be soft. He had bright eyes, healthy hair that framed his face perfectly, that kind of nose that you’d want to boop, and a jaw that you’d want to lick.

He fixed his tie, smoothed his hands down his suit jacket. It was a different one than he wore on Friday night during the event, but looked extremely good nonetheless.

‘There’s always food poisoning, you know.’ He was readjusting the ends of his sleeves while talking.

‘Huh?’

‘I could help you fake it.’

‘Oh. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be alright. I’m used to this.’

‘You seemed pretty upset back there,’ Jeongguk wondered out loud, glancing at you in the mirror.

When you locked eyes, your heart skipped a beat. Since when did he and his concern have such an effect on you? You felt a little shy and awkward. Perhaps because of the night before, or maybe because of your family making you feel like a child.

‘You know you’re supposed to be observing what’s around me, not me.’

Jeongguk hesitated for a moment, then lowered his gaze and started washing his hands scrupulously. He shrugged. ‘There’s time for both.’

Turning to face the door, you expertly hid the smile that was starting to creep up on your lips.

Leaving your bodyguard to dry his hands, you stepped out of the restroom. On the way back to your table, it seemed as though every person in the restaurant was watching you, seeing right through you, right through the mask you’d put on yourself to conceal the vulnerable you. It was like everyone there knew what your family thought of you. Every single person at their reserved table were completely aware of the differences you and your family had. You were the black sheep.

At times, when you were alone, a suffocating feeling would slither up on you, clogging your mind, filling it with endless memories and theories. It seemed like it would never stop. You thought about Mina and Yoongi; you wondered about Jeongguk and his opinion about you (even if you tried not to); you couldn’t cease the thoughts about your father and his secrets. It was rather difficult to stay in your room and try not to go mad from all the intrusive thoughts. The walls decorated with photographs and paintings appeared to glide closer and closer toward you; the oxygen seemed to be sucked out.

On Saturday, when a whole week had gone by since the dinner at the restaurant, after spending the whole morning like that, you decided you had to get out of the house.

‘Which one of the rides you wanna go on the most?’ asked Jeongguk with an almost childlike spark in his eye.

There was a fair in the city, and while usually you wouldn’t even be considering going there, now it seemed to be the only decent option for you to choose. These kind places were supposed to get people in a better mood, right? Jeongguk, of course, had to come along for obvious reasons. Though, as you strolled around the fair you didn’t really see him as a bodyguard, for he wasn’t keeping a certain distance and walking behind or in front of you, and he wasn’t silent as bodyguards usually are. You saw him as a friend that kept you company, and you were angry with yourself for it.

‘Actually, I don’t want to go on any rides.’

‘Oh?’ Jeongguk looked a little surprised. ‘So why are we here then?’

‘Can’t we just stroll around?’

‘It’s a fair, though,’ he wasn’t about to capitulate. ‘C’mon, there’s gotta be something you want to do besides the strolling.’ He was looking at you with expectant eyes, waiting for an answer, but—

‘Nope.’ You shook your head and picked up your pace.

Jeongguk, falling a couple of steps behind you, breathed, ‘Oh… Don’t tell me you’re scared.’

‘Pfft,’ you scoffed, keeping your pace.

‘Oh my god, you are!’

‘Am not!’

‘Okay, then…’ He caught up with you and touched your arm gently in an attempt of getting your attention. ‘Let’s go on this ride.’

You looked at the direction he tilted his head toward. ‘What, that one?’ You asked puzzled.

‘Yeah, why not?’

‘It’s a children’s ride.’

‘So what? Oh, you’re afraid of even a children’s ri—

‘Certainly not.’

Jeongguk crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Then prove me.’

‘I don’t have to prove you anything.’

He chuckled softly, glancing to the side.

‘Live a little.’

Whoa, he’s really going there, huh?

Just a week prior you said those exact words to him, encouraging him to commit a sinful act in the back of your lexus. To be quite honest, it would be much easier to push your pants down in front of all those people roaming around than to go on a rollercoaster ride. Though, this one didn’t seem that extreme. There were huge teacups with seats spinning around in a considerably manageable speed.

Jeongguk’s cheeks were dusted in pink as you glared at him. He looked embarrassed as if regretting saying the phrase, or just remembering it was the same thing you’d said to him before.

‘Um, I mean, there’s no line there and—

‘Stop babbling.’ You pushed through him. ‘I’m going.’

‘Would you say I’m as sweet as sugar?’ Jeongguk asked you with a little grin that was about to break wide open. He was like a child uttering the first part of a joke he had heard in school.

You didn’t know what he was talking about. ‘What?’

‘You know,’ he said, smiling, gesturing around you two, ‘we’re in a tea cup. I’m the sugar, you’re the tea.’

You snorted. Not because it was a good joke, quite the opposite, actually. What a dork. A cute one, though. ‘And what kind of tea am I?’

‘…black? Because—’

‘Let me guess. Because I’m bitter?’

‘Uhh… Oh, look! I think it’s time.’

As you were glaring at your bodyguard, the cups started moving. On any other occasion he wouldn’t get away with that shitty joke, but now you had other things to worry about. Like the world spinning around you as though you were drunk off your mind.

Kids were shrieking in joy, cheering and laughing; you were holding your breath and strangling the safety bar in front of your belly.

‘This is so much fun, isn’t it?’ Asked Jeongguk, seated right beside you. There wasn’t a lot of space between you and him.

‘Sure.’ You were hoping he didn’t notice how strained your voice was.

‘Whoo!’ He laughed as the cups picked up their speed.

How was this a kids’ ride? Were children now being born with an immunity to dizziness? Well, you certainly didn’t have that kind of gift. Your body felt too heavy; it didn’t like the abrupt movements; and your head felt full of vomit.

‘Oof, careful,’ Jeongguk giggled after your side bumped rather harshly into his.

Goddamnit.

After all the cups stopped and children started whining about it, with shaky legs you staggered out of the teacup, still feeling as though you just got off a plane ride with an open window.

‘Never again…’ you mumbled to yourself.

‘What was that?’ Jeongguk asked.

‘I said I’m hungry. You know what? Let’s go get some cotton candy.’

Jeongguk was munching on the last bite of his pink cotton candy as his feet stepped timidly into the little cabin in the west side of the fair.

He wouldn’t say he believed in that stuff 100%, but he was open to it. This world had lots of mysterious things in it, but one thing was for sure—some people had a gift. It might be an excellent skill at bullshitting, or, in rare cases, it may be the astounding ability to see far more than the ordinary people could.

He had never been to a psychic before, so as he was looking around the room, his heartrate picked up. Not only because the lady behind the antique-looking table could know something Jeongguk wouldn’t wish to share with anyone, but also because perhaps she was about to reveal something new about you. That excited him.

If someone asked him how he imagined a psychic’s room to look like, this would be it. The small place had a mystical aura to it. And yet it wasn’t too witchy, wasn’t too much. The decorations were rather subtle. He guessed, the energy itself was overwhelming, not the sitting things around room. But perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him. Like when someone asks out of nowhere "doesn't your head hurt?" and suddenly you become aware of any tiny sensation in your skull. Though, when he got a glimpse of your face, he somehow knew you were feeling the same way.

'Hello there,' the psychic greeted you both with a soft, even velvety voice that in a way managed to calm Jeongguk's nerves a little. 'Have a seat.' She graciously motioned toward the two armchairs across the table from where she was seated.

On the table, the little fire of a candle flickered as your bodies created a flow of air as you both did what she asked you to. There were a few decks of cards near the lady's hands, and when Jeongguk sat down he noticed they were rather used, and slightly folded at the edges, the design on the back of them starting to fade. She must be experienced.

Why was Jeongguk so nervous? He fidgeted with the wooden stick that he still had after eating the cotton candy. That was a mistake; now his hands were all sticky and gross.

'So, what brings you here?' The psychic's smile was lovely.

Jeongguk saw you give a shrug. 'Curiosity?' You said.

'Ahh. “Curiosity is the lust of the mind”. Thomas Hobbes. So... would you say that you trust your mind more than your heart?'

The boy has always wondered about people like this lady. Were they actually super smart and had read a lot, or had they prepared for certain situations by memorizing a few quotes just to look smart?

The question was directed at you, but Jeongguk couldn't stop himself from thinking how he'd answer it. During his military training he had learned to calculate every step carefully, trusting his mind and its logic. But if truth be told, personally he thinks trusting your heart and intuition isn't less important or less helpful. At the end of the day, love will save this world, right?

'Uh...' you tried to think of an answer, maybe a truthful one or perhaps one that the lady would like, but you didn't get to say anything else before the psychic took one of the decks in her hands with a delicate touch, starting to shuffle the cards.

'Let's see...' she said.

Okay, whew, you'll be the experimental bunny here, not Jeongguk.

As the psychic was placing the cards onto the table slowly, one at a time, you turned to Jeongguk and offered him a little, hesitant smile. Then you lifted one of your palms up, mouthing "sticky". Apparently he wasn't the only one fiddling with the stick with sugar remnants on it. The boy gave you a nod and a genuine smile.

'I see lots of contemplation,' the psychic began, drawing Jeongguk's attention to her. 'Lots of worrying. Your mind is all scattered. You can't focus.' She was inspecting the cards scrupulously, glancing at your face from time to time, sometimes taking a longer look as if trying to read something written in your eyes. Perhaps there exists a story you're not willing to tell anyone. Maybe the psychic will be able to uncover it and get a glimpse of what you're hiding from the world. Jeongguk would listen about it and cherish that information as if it were secrets of his own.

'There's... hurt. There's pain. You're not able to forgive and forget. There will be more confusion in the near future, more fight between the mind and your heart. But! Happy times are coming; you just have to trust your heart more. Trust the world more.'

You scoffed at that, avoiding eye contact with the lady.

She simply smiled.

'There was a man in your life. Not that long ago. Completely not your type. Why did you date him?' The psychic's brows furrowed, she looked utterly confused, the tiniest bit of amused.

'Uh... I don't know what you're talking about. I wouldn't date someone I didn't like.'

The lady tilted her head to the side, gazing at you sceptically.

You shifted in your seat.

The air around you shifted as well, when the psychic gave you a personal advice. ‘You don’t need him close to you. Cut him off completely.’

‘Well, I’m trying. Uh, I mean…’ You exhaled a heavy breath in defeat.

The lady did know how to push the buttons, apparently. She smiled to herself in victory.

‘You know, if you open your heart there’s love waiting for you.’

At that sentence, you crossed your arms in front of you defensively. ‘Maybe I don’t need love.’

‘Oh, you do, dear. Who doesn’t need it?’

Jeongguk couldn’t know for sure if the woman was a fraud or had an exceptional intuition, but he was certain of one thing—she struck a chord in you. You seemed to be irritated; and to Jeongguk, it seemed to be pretty fair, for when a person has their mind on something entirely different in life and another is insisting that they need love, it surely will annoy the shit out of them. Even if the psychic was saying the truth, it must had been rather difficult for you to capitulate and admit that she was. Letting someone know they unravelled your deepest, concealed needs wasn’t something you’d easily agree to do.

‘There’s a man in your life that you’re starting to trust, but you clearly have some self-destructive tendencies that might ruin it for you.’

‘You know what?’ Rushed words flooded the room. ‘It was really nice to meet you, but we’re going already. Goodbye.’

‘Oh, let me get that for you.’

You were rather irritated after the visit to the psychic’s little cabin, shaky fingers couldn’t properly grasp the bundle of keys you were carrying, therefore you heard a soft thud next to your right foot. Jeongguk leaned down to get them for you. ‘Thanks,’ you mumbled as he was gripping them.

Jeongguk grunted in what seemed to be sheer pain and grabbed his side where his ribs were protecting his insides. It was definitely not the side that you bumped into during the rollercoaster ride.

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, straightening himself back up, hand reaching out, open palm offering you the keys.

‘That didn’t look like nothing.’

He shrugged. ‘I bumped into something.’ That wasn’t convincing, to say the least.

‘With … your stomach?’ He was avoiding eye contact like a bad liar. Why would he lie about it? Was there an embarrassing story behind it? Did he get into a fight?

‘...yeah.’

‘Would you be surprised if I told you I don’t believe you?’

A sigh. ‘I’m in a good shape, it doesn’t interfere with my ability to do my job well and protect you if there’s a need for it.’

‘Yeah, okay, I don’t doubt it but … alright, it’s not my business.’

Jeongguk seemed to exhale lighter after the words you have uttered. He started walking. ‘So... the psychic managed to get into your head, huh?’

‘No, not at all.’ You caught up to him.

‘Wasn’t she saying the truth? It seemed like —‘

‘Pfft, no. Besides, she could’ve googled me under that table of hers. Like you did.’ You cut him off.

He looked at you, ‘So she was right.’

‘What? No, —‘

‘You think she could’ve googled your love life?’

There seemed to be something boiling in your veins. Of course the psychic was right; well, at least some of her words rang a bell, but that was certainly none of Jeongguk’s business. ‘You know what?’ You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, other people almost bumping into you, trying to awkwardly pass by. The bodyguard stood still, facing you. ‘You work for me. You should know your boundaries; you are clearly crossing the line here, talking about me and my personal–‘

‘Uhm, don’t you think that line has already been crossed?’

The air around you seemed to change as though a mist of heaviness settled on you both, making it hard to speak. The people rushing around you seemed to disappear completely. It was clear to you what he was talking about. Undeniably, he was referring to the night he jerked himself off to your words and your light yet sinful touches. Yes, the lines were crossed then, but you were praying to God this memory would fade soon. Very soon. You were hoping you’d never have to talk about it with Jeongguk.

What happened that night in the back of that car shouldn’t have happened. It was utterly wrong. And the man, who was standing now before you, as his rosy cheeks were getting a shade darker, made you feel as though you were trapped in a cell while Jeongguk was narrating his side of the story at the witness stand. This was a complete debacle. The implication of your bodyguard’s words wrapped tightly around your throat, making it difficult for you to breathe and to think properly.

Even if he was genuinely hoping to address the situation, to talk it out, or pretend like it’s kind of a no big deal, you wanted nothing to do with it. You wished that night had never happened.

After collecting your thoughts, and a couple of rather slow inhales, as calmly ass possible, you said, ‘You’re right. Too many lines have been crossed.’

Jeongguk gazed at you with questions in his eyes.

Knowing what was best for you both, you continued, ‘From now on you talk to me only when the topic concerns your job. No personal stuff. No “there’s time for both”. Do you understand?’

Subtly, a few different emotions washed over his face as you talked, then his face got completely solemn. ‘Yes, miss, I do,’ he answered compliantly.

‘Perfect. Now call my driver.’

‘So, how’s the apartment hunting going?’

When the driver stopped the car in front of your house, your father was getting ready to climb into his own car. Before he could do that, he decided to stroll up to your lexus. Jeongguk got out to say hello.

‘Pretty well I would say,’ he answered your dad’s question with a cheerful yet deferential tone. ‘I think I found the one.’

‘Oh, that’s great news! When are you moving in?’

‘In a few days, it seems.’

‘Lovely. Well, I hope this place won’t disappoint you.’

‘Me too, sir.’

You were listening to the conversation, trying to be not too obvious by crouching down to fix your shoelaces.

Your dad turned to you. ‘Did you have a good time?’

‘I guess.’

Even though a whole week had gone by after the family dinner, the tension between you and him hadn’t dissipated at all. Every time you crossed paths it was rather awkward to look into each other’s eyes and pretend everything was alright. Clearly, it wasn’t. Of course, you could talk to him about it, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know how you were supposed to feel about the whole thing. It still hurt that your dad had been hiding such a fact from you. And you were already imagining the awkward moments of when you get to properly meet Kim Seokjin’s mother.

Jeongguk, as you both watched your dad get into his range rover, said, ‘I meant to tell you.’

Not sparing a glance over his side, you nonchalantly asked, ‘Meant to tell me what?’

‘About moving into another apartment.’

You had to act cold. That was the plan now. ‘Why would I need to know that?’

‘I took your advice.’

To be completely frank, you barely managed to supress the smile that was itching to plaster your lips. And you cursed yourself for that.

You could still remember the night you two talked about it. You still recalled saying he deserved to live in a nice and safe place. You didn’t say anything to him now, though. Again—not your business.

He hesitated, then timidly said, ‘I’m going to adopt Sunny.’

The statement forced you to look at him. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

There was a smile forming upon your lips and this time you didn’t care much if he noticed it or not. The news were probably the first thing that week that made you this happy.

Jeongguk had a warm look in his eyes. ‘The new place is pet friendly. There’s a dog park nearby. I think she’ll really love it.’

‘I bet she will.’ You nodded. ‘That’s... that’s really great.’

Needless to say, walking to your front door you kept on grinning. Sure, you knew it was better not to share personal stuff with each other, but this was different. This concerned not only Jeongguk, but Sunny as well. She was the sweetest dog and deserved the warmest home. You were certain Jeongguk was able to grant her that.

Inside the house, various thoughts concerning Mina, Kwangsun, your dad and Jeongguk rushed to your mind as though the ceilings there pressed down and forced everything to simmer inside like a can quaking in a microwave. Shit. The psychic was definitely right about this part.

You had to do something. You had to make a list and prioritize things. Solve the problems one by one.

But what could you do now, at home, with not a single person that caused the problems around you? Talking to Mina through phone wouldn’t do much good. Jeongguk—the last thing on the list. The best plan to solve the odd Kwangsun situation? No plan at all. You should ignore him until he moves on. You move on.

Your dad. What should you do about that? He’s at work, or some place related to work. You could only try to come up with things you want to ask him, prepare for an interrogation. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you in love? Did you ever love my mom? Kim Seokjin as my step-brother? Doesn’t that sound crazy to you? And what else are you hiding from me? Would he be truthful with you? Would he still treat you like a child?

An insane thought popped into your head. An utterly ridiculous idea that was so insisting and so convincing that you couldn’t help but eventually give in.

You must be really desperate for answers if you’re really cracking open the door to your dad’s office inside the house and stepping into the little room that was purely your dad.

What were you expecting to find? You had no idea at all. Perhaps, deep inside, you wished you wouldn’t find anything suspicious. He was your dad, for fuck’s sake. He was the person you should be the closest to.

It was silent there, squeaky clean. There was a bookshelf that held your father’s collection of antique books, but the table in the middle of the room held the most of your attention. It had drawers. Four of them on each side. That’s where you’d look. That’s where you’d find something saying about your dad more than you’d ever known. Well, at least it would be the start of it.

#armiesnet #jeon jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bts bodyguard au #bts fake dating au #bodyguard!jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you

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thatbangtanbloom · 5 years

Text

my everything | myg

my everything | min yoongi

characters: yoongi x reader

au(s): Socialite!AU, Pianist!Yoongi

categories: (just a little, like almost none) angst, fluff

word count: 2,393 (a bit long for a blurb, huh?)

The average piano has a total of eighty-eight keys; fifty-two white and thirty-six black. The key to your heart had a total of one and Min Yoongi managed to play all eighty-nine keys more swiftly than Tchaikovsky could have ever imagined.

The first moment you met Min Yoongi, you did not expect him to become the love of your life. He was nothing more but a piano prodigy that your father wanted to invest in. He was not even that much taller than you when you were only sixteen. He did not smile back then, unless it was in the presence of the piano.

You had admired him many times from the confines of your balcony. You were an awkward teenager back then, much preferring to admire the piano player from afar as he played under the supervision of your father.

“The crescendo should begin with b-flat if you want it to begin effectively. Juxtaposition, Yoongi-ah.” Your father instructed Yoongi while hovering over his shoulder.

Back then, you never understood how your father could criticize Yoongi when you thought that every key he stroke was the first melody to heaven’s symphony. It became a game as time went on, once your father realized that perhaps you were interested in the prodigy.

I know that it is not much, but I thought that you may like this. I made this rice cake with my mother yesterday and she told me to give it to someone special. I hope you eat this deliciously - YN.

You did not know it, but that was the first day that Yoongi began to look forward to the long practices for something other than the tone of the piano keys. He began to look forward to your messages, even arriving earlier just to retrieve them before your father saw them.

A little birdie told me that you like meat... So I tried to make a lunchbox for you.. I have never tried to grill meat before this, so I know it is still lacking, but please accept this as sustenance as you eat. I am rooting for you, Yoongi! - YN

The days that passed when you once left small rice cakes wrapped meticulously for Yoongi to find when he practiced late became less. The times that Yoongi caught you glancing at him as a teenager were numbered. Your chances of finally speaking to the pianist went from astronomical to insignificant when you finally studied abroad for university.

Years had passed, graduations occurred, and letters never sent were sealed when you finally saw Yoongi again in your nineteenth spring. It was beyond you how years could have passed when the strings of your heart tugged at the sight of him and butterflies began to sprout into your stomach.

“You must be Min Yoongi,” You said softly as you stood up after smoothing out your dress shirt and smiled politely in the way that your mother had always instructed you to do so. “My name is L/N Y/N. It is a pleasure to be of your acquaintance.”

Yoongi looked at you as though he were looking at you. It was almost as if he was trying to picture you sitting on the stairs, watching him play as the grueling hours went by. He was no man of formalities and neither was he in awe when it came to the presence of wealth. It was back then that Yoongi had made assumptions that he looks back on now and laughs about. “I am Min Yoongi. Enchanté.”

There was something about his eyes that drew you into him almost immediately. The dark tint of his irises made you want to know what he held behind them, what secrets he told, what his last thought of was. A part of you even considered thinking that you were getting ahead of yourself for falling for the five-foot-eight piano player without knowing his birthday, let alone him as a person.

“I hope to hear you play often in my father’s hall. He raves about you… I might even say that he adores you.” You added, hoping to break the ice as your father fraternizes with one of the shareholders about the importance of investing in the entertainment industry; the importance of investing in Min Yoongi.

Yoongi found himself almost chuckling at your words. His eyes immediately skimmed over your features, your mannerisms that screamed ‘high society’ in ways that his new money could only dream of. “And you?”

“I beg your pardon?” You asked. To put it simply, you were beyond surprised at what he had just said.

“I asked, what do you think of me? Do you adore me as your father does? Or do I have the mere pleasure of being graced with your presence for only a fleeting moment to thrive off of for the rest of my life? I find myself asking such questions when the last time I saw you, you were leaving me sweets during practice in our more.. Youthful years.” Yoongi asked as he takes a sip of champagne before placing it on the high table. “Was I too forward?” He asked, only after noticing your gaze. “I think that is my charming point. I am a bit too forward at times.”

You shake your head with a sweet smile. It was so sweet that Yoongi contemplates if this was what Eve experienced with the temptation of the apple. “It is refreshing.” You say softly with a small smile.

“Y/N, darling! There is someone else for you to meet. He is the prosecutor’s son. Kim Namjoon-” Your mother exclaims before whisking you away before you could hear the last thing that Yoongi was going to say. “Darling, where have you been? Don’t you know that you are a debutante now? You do not have time to speak to all the guests. You must control the room! Permeate it-”

You do not catch the rest of what your mother says, focusing on the black-haired male with a grin on his face when he notices you looking back at him. His eyes never leave your figure; first beginning with the eye contact that nearly renders you speechless to the nervous smile that fixates on your lips to his eyes lingering over the curve of your hips.

He only sent you a friendly smile, but every part of you wondered if he was a human or some celestial being that the heavens has bestowed upon you. Despite not seeing him for years, you knew that the smile that he had given you; with honey dripping from his eyes and the pink of his gums on displays to show his pearly white teeth, it was something real. Something special. Something significant.

That was the first time you had spoken to him. Albeit short, a deeper part of you knew that you wanted to speak Yoongi for the rest of your life.

The next time you spoke to Yoongi, it was during your biweekly walk through the nearby botanical gardens of your family’s estate. You did not know this, but Yoongi was actively searching to see you. It had caused him trouble too, figuring out how to approach your friends when you seemed as untouchable as a butterfly on a cool spring day.

“Yoongi?” You found yourself asking the male when you catch sight of the male walking what looked like a cinnamon brown poodle. It was surprising, especially since you were apt to believe in coincidences.

Yoongi smirked to himself inwardly, thankful that one of your friends, Park Jimin, had a terrible habit of talking too much. “Y/N-ah, too much time has passed between us.” His voice is smooth, much like the piano keys that he plays.

You wonder if you would become his next opus. It was what he was hoping for, anyway.

“I can say the same.” You reply with a bite of your lip before turning your attention way from him to hide your blushing cheeks to the white roses in the garden. You do not know what it is more beautiful, the flowers or him.

Yoongi guides the small dog, Holly, to sit down before he clears his throat to catch more of your attention. “I wanted to formally ask if you were interested in having dinner with me. I feel that it is necessary when we have had so many correspondences in the form of both food and letter writing.” He states cheekily.

“Yes.” You say without hesitation. And little did you know, it would be the most changing experience of your life.

You can still remember the first time that Yoongi asked to hold your hand after the two of you had returned from his recital. You knew in the breath of it all, a part of you knew that the two of you would not last. You could not last.

“Do you ever get tired of having to wait for me all the time?” He asks you one night, his tie loose around his neck and his fingers entwined with yours. His voice is indicative of melancholy and you want to kiss away his sadness in an instant.

“Why would I be tired of having to wait for you when you are what matters to me?” You ask softly as you take off your sunglasses to take in his features. He looks exhausted, likely from playing one of the most difficult piano pieces ever created, Etudes Op. 25 No. 11 Winter Wind by Chopin.

Yoongi bites his lip as he pauses to take your hands in his, “Because at times, I wonder if I can ever be enough for you when I spent more time with the piano then with you.” His concerns burden you greatly and your heart aches at how he was feeling. You knew how demanding his craft was of him, how often that he had to wear braces for his wrist, or the practices for hours without breaks.

You can practically taste him on your lips, a mixture of too many drinks of champagne and macarons. It is safe to say that you do not know the last time you found yourself in the expanse of his arms, the last time that you found yourself by his side as his nimble fingers caressed piano keys, the last time you found yourself telling him that you love him.

Yoongi is taken by surprise when you make the first move; closing the gap between the two of you to connect your lips with his. Soft like petals but rhythmic like waves, you find yourself melting into the crevices of him that made you fall for him in the first place.

“Min Yoongi, I do not think that you understand my love as much as I would like you to.” You say in a soft tone as you caress his porcelain cheek in your palm with a gentle smile. “When I look at you, I know that you are what the truth is. Nothing can substitute for you nor can it be fabricated.

Sparkles in Yoongi’s eyes welcome you, but the slightest hint of his frown is evident on his lips. “I do not think that there is anything that makes me happier than you do. I love piano. I always have and always will, it was my first love, but you are my first everything. Y/N-ah… I-I never had a muse until I found you.” He whispers softly as his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I can still remember the first time we crossed paths and I knew that I was intrigued by you in an instance. I felt..” He pauses as he bites his lip. “It was as though I was meeting my soulmate from another life; as though we were lovers in all of our lives before this and we crossed paths in this one to cement our lives together… to write our own melody for the rest of our lives.”

“I know at times that I am not the most expressive when it comes to my appreciation for you, but I know that I am grateful to have been blessed with you.” He adds as he turns your head to take in his features. Soft and almost dollike as he pours his heart out to you. “There are so many days when I consider taking a break from it all, forever, to just want to be more than Min Yoongi, the pianist, to exist as far more than just someone who plays at recitals or travels, but then I stand up from the piano and turn to face a sleeping you.” His heart strings pulls as he notices the way that your features soften.

“There were so many times in the past that I thought that the music was all that I had, that all I had were those eighty-eight keys and a stage to make me feel like I was enough.” His voice nearly shakes and you find yourself holding back a breath as he continues to speak. Yoongi was not the type to speak unless it was something worth saying and your heart beat in triple time as he speaks to you. “I used to think that my soulmate was that first piano and that every one after that was a reincarnation of my first love. I felt that, I understood that, I lived by that thinking that was all I had until you came into my life and showed me that there is more to life than work and love, but being able to understand myself and loving me in a way that only you could do authentically.”

“I love you in all ways that love exists. You have my heart, my soul, my being and I do not think that I am the only truth, because you exist. You are beyond the truth. You are evidence. You are existence. You are the epitome of my beginning and end and I have no intent to ever let you.” Yoongi almost speaks as though he is out of breath. “So L/N Y/N, will you do me the honor of being the co-compose for the melody of the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?”

And it was safe to say that you didn’t need a composer to answer Yoongi’s question.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

This is the first writing for the song blurbs! I am so excited to write for the hyung line after a long time. Please let me know what you think! Let me know if there is anything you liked or enjoyed. Don’t be a silent reader!

xx,

thatbangtanbloom

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logicalyfun · 5 years

Text

May we play

Musician au

Characters: Patton, Logan, Roman, Virgil

This is the first LAMP ive ever made, have mercy on me :)

Sorry for bad grammar :)))

Thanks to @stop-it-anxiety for beta reading

This is a concept and idea ive had in mind for sometime now. Wanted to do this and see how it would turn out, hope you enjoy it :)

_________

'C,D,A,F,'

Logan chanted on him mind as he played the violin piece infront of him. So lost in the music, the feeling of the strings under his finger tips. It was a slow piece he was playin, obviously classical although he sometimes didn't like classical that much. But his mom made him play classical music from Paganini to Mozart to Chopin and so much more.He smiles as he played the last note of the paper. He had to practice more if he really wanted to be a good musician. A yes being in an orchestra, in the violin section, now that-.His thought were interrupted by one of his roommates, Patton. That bubbly saxophonist didn't even play classical, he just played whatever they gave him but most likely jazz, which in a way made his curious of that music style."Hey Logan what you up to""Just practicing some classical pieces, the usual".

"Boring, come on you know theres more to play, how about un poco de salsa o plena" said his other roommate called Roman. He was hispanic which you dont see around these areas sometimes. Hes pretty dramatic, is in a drama club and also plays the trumpet. They match, they are both pretty loud and both together pretty amazing.

Logan titled his head in confusion. "What is all that, some classical music I've never heard of" Logan said still confused

Patton and Roman eyes widen, "wait you dont know what those genre is" Roman said with a surprise voice. Logan shrugged and said no.

"Well you only know classical, how about we show you the rest" Patton said.

"I can't I need to practice, i dont have time for silly games"

"But you have time for word association game don't you" Patton said.

"Dont you dare mess with my favorite game"

Roman meanwhile had an idea. "Say Logan how about we take you to the music room and there we can show you what do yo-"" Roman i told you i dont have tim-""But you can practice there too" Logan stopped and thought about it. He did want to learn more about music and he had to admit that it was getting kinda boring just playing classical so..

"Alright ill go, just lets do this quick" Logan said grabbing the violin suitcase and following to Patton and Roman who was talking to someone via phone call.

As they opened the music room, Logan saw some big and small cases, some drums and percussion around and a piano. He had been here but only for a short amount of time.

"Roman took you long enough to get here" and there appeared Logan third roommate, Virgil. Virgil was pretty dark and had his ways but also very dedicated to his instruments. He played guitar, drums and some wind instruments.

"Virge, its an emergency! Specs here doesn't know any other genre other than classical, and we are here to show him some songs" Roman said taking his trumpet out.

"Well i have some suggestion, may i go first" Patton said with his alto saxophone in his hands. Roman and Virgil nod and sit down on some chairs.

"Okay Logan im gonna play a song, if you want you can join or any of you can join" and there he started, going slowly and having a bit of a sway to it. Play every dinamic and note making it sound beautiful. Logan got his violin out and listen closely to Patton and he started playing with him

"Oh i love this song,

"Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like on

Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me"

Patton and Logan playing together with Roman singing and Virgil adding a bit of percussion. They were magnificent, Logan couldn't believe what he heard, he actually enjoyed playing it.

"In other words, please be true

In other words

I love you"

"I must say that was... good, pretty average" Logan said "and Pat i didn't know you played Jazz so good"

"Well yea, Jazz music is one of the biggest reasons I play the saxophone, it my favorite genre" he said smiling at Logan.

"I see that what Jazz music sounds like, I like it"

"Oh and we are just starting, te tocare una bolero, it one of my favorite, Virgil.."

Strumming, slow and gentle playing just before the trumpet started playing play. A slow melody not to loud or low just perfect. He swayed with the rhythm of the song.

"Besame,

besame mucho

Como si fuera esta noche

la ultima vez,"

Romans voice, so soft and slow made Logan start swaying at the rhythm of the music.

"Wanna dance" Patton extended his hand which Logan accepted.

Swaying together with the trumpet and guitar in the background. He was starting to enjoy more and more all that he was doing.

"Besame, besame mucho

Que tengo miedo a perderte

Perderte después"

"So what ya think, still prefer common classical" Patton said still dancing with him.

"I mean classical is what i live for, but this is something new in a way, but I won't let classical go that fast" he said smiling and giving Patton a spin. Patton giggled and continued dancing.

And as they stopped dancing, Roman played the last note that concluded the song.

"I am very impressed Roman"Logan said. "Well it nothin-"" I cant believe you dont always play forte, I mean i am impressed" Logan said smiling at a annoyed Roman.

"Okay okay my turn, im gonna play more of a latin pop as you could say song" Virgil said connecting his guitar.

Latin pop? Logan though, now that was something he had barely heard of. And it was starting with a rapid pace, moving his fingers so quickly and yet made an astonish rhythm.

"Para bailar La Bamba

Para bailar La Bamba

Se necessita una poca de gracia

Una poca de gracia"

Virgil and Patton sang in unison.

Such genre, was so different and made you body just fill with adrenalin, an amazing feeling he had never felt before.

"I see someone is enjoy""well actually yes, this is turning out better than i expected, Roman i wasnt sure what type of music i was gonna hear today, i wasnt even that exited" Logan said looking at Roman.

"Well, I can't blame ya, i used to only play the same stuff over and over again, it was nice i guess but I didnt feel like i enjoyed it as much. When u found out about this genre, sin mentirte me encanto, i love it and decide from now on to keep discovering new music" Roman said.

"Remember Lo, don't stay in the same place forever, embrace yourself, open youre wing and find new thing that are awaiting you" Virgil said. Logan never notice when they stopped playin but he still had the rhythm of the song in repeat.

"But I don't have wings. I dont know where to start" Logan said.

"Hey Logie, remember one step at a time and everything will be okay. Plus will be here with you if you need us" Patton said smiling and hugging him.

"Say i do have one last song called Conga, would be pretty cool to play" Roman said looking at Virgil and Patton.

For Logan it seemed like they had talk telepathically because they all just grabbed their instrument and some papers.

"A one, two and one two.."

"PA DA DAM" was the first thing Logan heard coming from his rommates. Blasting like rhythm that was sure to make you move and dance. He wondered what this genre was called. He wanted to join the rhythm so bad but didnt known it on vio-

And thats when he saw it, the piano and there he had an idea. It was worth trying but he wanted to. He sat down in the piano and listen to the rhythm and notes they were playing. Breath in and breath out...

He began playing matching the speed and the song. His finger going fast, feeling the keys under his finger trying not to play them that hard.

"Well ill say.." Patton said looking in awe at Logan as he played.

"Well why stop, come on" Logan said as he kept playing, hearing Roman, Patton and Virgil join.

Logan was enjoy the moment, he never thought he would enjoy doing this and not actually practicing. He loved it actually, the rhythm, the velocity and everything from every song. Logan smiled as he looked at his roommate, who finally open his eyes to new music.

And Logan finally understood what the others meant.

"So Logan we were talking and we wanted to ask, would you like to koin are little band as we call it" Virgil said.

"Why not, I'd love too" Logan said being attacked by hugs from his .. friends, being attacked by his new friends.

#if you wanna listen to song the titles are in the story #sander side #musician au #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remy writes #patton little library

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kkintle · 5 years

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The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce

Time has told me You’re a rare, rare find A troubled cure For a troubled mind. -- Nick Drake, ‘Time Has Told Me’

It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found. -- Donald Winnicott

Sometimes all that people needed was to know they were not alone. Other times it was more a question of keeping them in touch with their feelings until they wore them out – people clung to what was familiar, even when it was painful.

In his mind’s eye, the future appeared to him in the same way he had seen the distant horizon materializing out of a sea mist at the white house; blurred and remote, but beautiful and full of hope.

No one quite knew what to do with that remark. They decided to sit very still and wait for it to go away.

‘Music comes out of silence and at the end it goes back to it. It’s a journey. You see?’

‘And of course the silence at the beginning of a piece of music is always different from the silence at the end.’ ‘Why, Peg?’ ‘Because if you listen, the world changes. It’s like falling in love. Only no one gets hurt.’

‘You heard the little pause in the middle?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You see? You see what Beethoven’s doing? There is silence inside music too. It’s like reaching a hole. You don’t know what will happen next.’

Silence was where the magic happened.

What he had felt in those moments was like being wired up to something explosive. It was so new to him, it had felt all wrong – and at the same time he had known it was entirely right.

How could so much irregular loveliness have been put together in one small frame? He was terrified.

they repeated, so that now it sounded less of a name and more like a blessing before dinner.

But CD sound was clean, the reps argued. It had no surface noise. To which Frank replied, ‘Clean? What’s music got to do with clean? Where is the humanity in clean? Life has surface noise! Do you want to listen to furniture polish?’

The more time passed, the more Frank found he thought of her and yet this was madness because he knew nothing, except for the fact she very definitely had someone else.

‘I was trying to help, Frank.’ What was she doing now? Using his name? As if she were reaching a hand through his skin and squeezing his insides? And yet the way she said his name made it sound so whole and new in the world. If only she would say it again and again. Oh and one more time, please—

As the record came to an end, Frank felt so happy he was sad, and so sad he was happy.

The fact was, it was safer to stay uninvolved. He was perfectly fine with emotions, so long as they belonged to other people.

Jazz was about the spaces between notes. It was about what happened when you listened to the thing inside you. The gaps and the cracks. Because that was where life really happened; when you were brave enough to free-fall.

It was Haydn and Mozart who really cracked the sonata, but it was Beethoven who reinvented it, just as he reinvented the symphony. Bach was king of the Baroque; Mozart and Haydn were kings of the Classical; Brahms, Chopin, Liszt and Berlioz were the great Romantics. Bruckner, Mahler and Wagner brought music into the twentieth century; Stravinsky and Schoenberg redefined harmony. But Beethoven was in a class of his own. He didn’t write music to praise God. He didn’t write it to earn a living. Beethoven wrote music because he had to.

Being with her was the same as staring into the sun; he saw nothing and yet when he looked away, there she was, a raucous white light imprinted at the heart of everything.

‘The way to heaven is not through the clouds. It’s in the joy with which you look at the world, despite your pain and your sorrow.’

‘No. It was a long time ago.’ ‘You could not see someone for twenty years and still love them. I really believe that.’

‘Because I am busy.’ Frank tucked his T-shirt into the waistband of his trousers. In the circumstances, he couldn’t think of anything busier.

It is hard to look back on a moment when you are haring right through the centre of it.

Loyal to his friends, lethal to his enemies, tender with his women—

the kind of rain that comes soft at first, pitter patter, and then so insistently it is everywhere you look, and in everything you hear, until once again it is nothing except one small drop following another, right up to the last one that lands so surely and so kindly it is hard to imagine anything falling ever again.

‘Do you remember?’ she asked. ‘Yes,’ he said. He laughed. She laughed. ‘Wouldn’t it be good,’ she said, ‘if it was like this for ever?’

When you witness a person before they have spotted you, it allows you to observe them in a pure way, without the extra complications of yourself.

People like it when she tells them things, in small portions, and they think they know her, but they do not, they cannot possibly understand all the decisions she has made, the choices that have turned her into the woman they see today.

There is no guarantee that just because you are ready to go back and claim something, it will be there.

Twenty-one years can be condensed to very few words. Is that a good thing or a bad one? It’s just the way it is.

‘King of Kings. For ever! For ever! Hallelujah. Hallelujah.’ One hundred people sing in a shopping mall. Outside, the air will stink of cheese and onion, people are being mugged, others are starving, the sky is grey, but for one brief and irrational gap in time, there is this beautiful human madness. The world is not terrible after all.

#the music shop #Rachel joyce #music #fiction #quotes #books

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b0blegum · 6 years

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CONSTRAINT [#1]

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: Son Hyunwoo x Reader (Mafia AU, requested)

Rating: R

Genre: Crime

Words: 2229

WARNING SEXUAL ACTIVITIES, BLOOD

CHAPTER: #1 | #2 | #3

Status: ON GOING

gif © @wonheony

SUGGESTION: HAVE THIS MUSIC ON FOR MORE ENJOYABLE READING

“Le secret des grandes fortunes sans cause apparente est un crime oublié, parce qu’il a été proprement fait.” — Honoré de Balzac

Son Hyunwoo sat behind his grand piano, the one that stole the most attention among other things that are in his entire penthouse. Black, shiny, with a captivating chandelier hung down from the high ceiling that almost touched the lid when it’s open. His fingers were dancing on the black and white bars to Chopin’s piece. His eyes closed and his heads nodded to the slow and steady rhythm until he gave a dramatic act at the finale coda. He lifted up his fingers, slowly and feeling satisfied by his own play. The wine that was rested above his piano for a while was held up, traveling with him to the windows, where he could get the best view of busy Seoul at night. Sliding his hand into his trousers pocket, he admired the beauty of night light, as if they purposely presented him a beautiful play every night. “Your car is ready, Sir.” One of his assistant stood straight just few meters away from him.

Hyunwoo took a quick glance at his watch before he turned around. The soles of the pair of his custom-made-only-from-grade-A-leather oxford shoes made a satisfying tapping sound as he took each step to the front door and to his private elevator. The car was, true, already waiting patiently on the lobby, with the driver stood by the car with the door open. It was the newest Cadillac Escalade, custom made to his own desirable interior design with his initial embossed on each headrest. The leather material was also based on his own choice he got to pic when he invited the chief of design over a cup of tea last year’s fall. Everything was pretty easy for Son Hyunwoo. Breakfast in Tokyo then headed to Singapore to enjoy some expensive tea at Tea Bone? He can have it. Or spent the night at the royal penthouse in Geneva? Just say it. Those two were just a tiny example of how easy his life could be. To put it simply, he always got what he desires. Not to get you confused, but Son Hyunwoo wasn’t a politician, nor he was a CEO of some really successful company, nor even a celebrity, but most his clients are. Including this one industry monster who hosted a lavish party at one of his property in the country. Hyunwoo fixed his perfectly tailored pair of Harriot & Ánderson suits as he walked through the crowd wearing as beautiful outfit as he was. No one in the party would wear just a simple black dress from Forever 21, that’s lame. The minimal fabrics that they wore had to be duchess satin, the highest quality and made it done by designer Loro Vianna, the one whose dress was worn by Miss Venezuela in Miss Universe 2017 and successfully captivated the eyes of many designers all around the world. The men didn’t really care to ask from which tailor they had their suits done, but they also have their own standard and Hyunwoo’s were made at the place where people had to book several months to a year to get their suits done, but of course, Hyunwoo is an exception. He had a glass of black wine already in his hand as he stood by the empty table. Even though he’s frequently invited to parties, he’s actually not really a social butterfly. He’s rather the type that would stand in silent, observing others, while waiting one or two people come to him, introducing themselves, which usually, ended up with them wanted to ask Hyunwoo a favor. Oh, speak of the devil... “Hi, Mr. Son.” Someone was approaching with an odd, triumphant defiance in his eyes. Hyunwoo put down his glass and responded to the older man— probably already in his 50s. “Hello, Mr.—“ “Lee.” “Mr. Lee. What kind of favor do you want?” Hyunwoo directly asked the older man, which sent him to have a good chuckle. “I like you. Hate to beat around the bush.” Hyunwoo scoffed. “So, what is it?” The older looked around, as if he was afraid to get caught with someone. A moment later, he pulled out a photograph of a young woman in an enchanting emerald off-shoulder dress, revealing her silky pale skin. Her lips were plump, swatched with a lustful burgundy lipstick. Her eyes were brown, clear brown. Beautiful. “I need you to get rid of her.” He explained in a careful whisper. “She’s here to kill me.” Hyunwoo looked down to the man’s eyes. The eyes that shot defiance turned slowly, shooting nothing but pure restlessness. He caught Hyunwoo’s staring at him and he quickly responded, “I slept with her and i don’t have any idea she’s a—“ “I don’t care about the reason.” Hyunwoo stopped him mid sentence. “Okay. Alright, so how much do you need to get rid of her? 500?” Hyunwoo went silent, staring at him still. “A Billion? Two? No? Or—“ “You clearly haven’t heard much about me do you?” Hyunwoo smirked, staring at him mockingly. The man’s about to say something, when Hyunwoo cut him again, “I don’t take money as reward.” He gave back the photograph to the older. Son Hyunwoo was a young man everybody seek for help and they truly were never disappointed. He made no empty promises nor classic excuses like his hands were tied by even greater forces than himself. He took every problems from the poor to the rich to his heart. It was fine with him if one had no intentions to reward him back with expensive meals or even just a bottle of wine. But from all of that, one thing he would want they to understood is that they’re in his debt and that he had the right to call them at anytime to redeem their debts for any small services. “I take friendship.” Hyunwoo’s softened his gaze. Stronger than that, he’d lost him. Weaker than that, he’d underestimate him. The older looked uneasy. He knew what he had to deal with. Someone must’ve warned him before what risk should one take if he wanted to seek help with Hyunwoo. “Alright. Friendship.” Hyunwoo scoffed before he sipped down the rest of his wine and left. His eyes wander around the room as subtle as they could, looking for his prey. A girl with beautiful eyes and seductively sexy lips. “There you are, beauty.” He slowed down his steps and approached the girl carefully. She had been sitting there behind the bar table, wearing velvet maroon v-neck spaghetti strap dress with high slit up to her upper thighs. Her hair fell down to one side, revealing her other shoulder completely. The lipstick she wore tonight wasn’t as bold as the one in the picture. Maybe she didn’t want to catch too much attention. “One martini for this young lady over here, please.” Hyunwoo unbuttoned his jacket as he sat on the bar stool with one leg supporting himself on the ground. “You don’t need to.” She said with a fierce look on her face without even bother looking at Hyunwoo. “I insist, please.” “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but i’m not in the mood for talking.” She countered, sighing as she exhaled the thin smoke. “Well,” Hyunwoo looked at his watch. “I don’t think i have much time anyway.” The girl caught a look at Hyunwoo’s watch and her eyes got wider for a milli second. She thought The man wouldn’t realised, but actually he saw it all. Hyunwoo stepped down from the stool, buttoned his jacket and get through the crowds, heading to the balcony. There, he rested his palm on the railing, while counting down from ten. “Three... two... one.” “What is it?” Hyunwoo curved a smile of victory. He turned around slowly to met the same girl from before already stood before him with one leg exposed and one hand rested against her small hips. “What is a beauty like you doing here?” He walked closer, tracing the back of his hand down her face. “Don’t you think the party is a bit boring, baby?” The girl smile, realising she was played well with the watch. “Nice try to get under skirt, gentleman.” “What you’re wearing isn’t a skirt. It’s a dress and–“ Hyunwoo pulled her to his hug. He put his mouth right next to her ear. “I don’t think you wear anything underneath it.”

Hyunwoo poured his favorite whiskey and bring along the glass with him to bed. He sat at the edge, still fully clothed. “Seduce me.” He ordered. The girl walked closer, already naked with nothing but skin and skin. She licked her finger and traced herself down to her breast with a lustful look. He kneaded her own breast as she bit her lower lips. Eyes still making an intense contact with Hyunwoo’s. She moaned once in a while until she put herself on Hyunwoo’s laps. “More.” “You’re hard to please.” She smirked as she put her palm on his chest and traveled up to his neck, tilting his chin up a bit before she put her lips between Hyunwoo’s. She climbed up Hyunwoo and laid him down. Now that she’s on top of him, she can took full control over the perfectly build body underneath her. She kissed him hungrily, gave him a soft peck on his jaw and made some marks on his neck before she traveled further down to unbutton his shirt. She did it fluently and in a second Hyunwoo was already in his naked state. His defined abs made a wonderful presence, making the girl tracing his body slower to appreciate the perfection. She led him for a good long minutes until both felt they were ready to get to the next base. ”Get inside me.” She said. “I am in control this time.” Hyunwoo flipped her down. He pressed her body with her weight, started kissing her and tasting every inch of her exposed skin. “This would hurt a bit.” He smirked. “I can handle yours.” She bit her lips, inviting Hyunwoo for another round of kissing. “If you said so.” Hyunwoo thrusted into her. She screamed and immediately stopped with the kissing. Her eyes widened and his mouth opened wide, gasping for God knows what. Her hands both fell down to either side of her body, twitched before she got weaker with the motion. Blood started gushing out, wetting the clean white sheet underneath. “I told you it’d hurt.” Hyunwoo pulled out the knife from the girl’s lower abdomen. He stabbed deep enough to ruin the organs inside. He knew exactly where and in which angle to stab to gave great damage with minimal pain. Standing up, he gathered all his cloths and get suited up, but he sighed as he found his shirt was stained with her blood. He left the shirt and continue with only the jacket and trousers. He washed the knife calmly and wiped off his fingerprint before throwing it to the girl’s side. Finished with his business, he walked out the room like he just did nothing. He waited at the corridor for the elevator to come. He stared at his own reflection. Suited up without a shirt. His abs were exposed. He wasn’t used to exposing himself, but for now he had no other option than to leave his shirt. The elevator dinged and soon the door slid open, presenting a woman in a black satin dress. Long sleeved with a deep v-neck. You. He stepped in joining you. He stood in just a few steps before you, closer to the door than you did. You realised his eyes are fixed on your reflection. You tried not to react, but there’s also one thing you noticed from him. The elevator traveled down with no interruptions to your desire level and it dinged as soon as it stopped. The door slowly slid opened. “With a job like that, you should’ve known how to clean yourself better.” You said, looking at his abs reflection that has a bit of blood stain, before you stepped out.

NEXT >>

Ok, so how was it? I’m finally back with another mafia AU (last one was Jooheon’s mafia AU RAHASIA). I hope you like this as well as my other works. Don’t forget to tell me how you feel about this and share this if you enjoy reading it.

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axelsandwich · 6 years

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Great question (your English is fine). I’ve heard Yuzuru’s skating described somewhere as one that ‘draws you into his world and forces you to look’.

I’d broadly categorise his existing repertoire into something like:

1. Lyrical abstract (Requiem, Haru Yo Koi, Hope and Legacy, Etude, Chopin) - he gets lost in the music, kind of becomes the human embodiment of the piece and all its nuances

2. Character studies (SEIMEI, POTO, Romeo & Juliet, Notte Stellata) - Playing an existing character, interpreting and expressing their story with emotions/movements. It’s self-contained, a performance to be viewed

3. Performative (PW, LGC, Mission Impossible, Sing Sing Sing) - where he’s more actively interacting with the audience, direct eye contact and flirty, ‘selling’ his charm. The most stereotypically ‘masculine’ of his programs. 

Obviously they’re not set categories and there’s light overlaps in each piece. But I’d argue this is already a very versatile repertoire - name me another skater who can do both #1 and #3 the way Yuzuru can. You can see where he ‘stole’ aspects from skaters he admires but his overall ‘style’ is really unlike any previous skater. 

I think what characterises Yuzuru’s style is ‘spectacle’. It’s meant to be compelling, something you can’t tear your eyes away from, and viewed as a complete, polished piece in itself. Given Yuzu’s flair for the dramatic in packaging, it is often intensely emotional and unearthly but a degree of intimidating or perhaps inwardly-driven that can feel like a wall between him and the audience.  

His detractors might (and have) call it cold/distant/unemotional but I don’t interpret it that way — when I watch Yuzuru skate, especially his lyrical pieces, it feels like I’m watching a master craftsman chipping away at a piece in his studio; the intensity of the focus is that of a perfectionist chasing after a vision only he can see, chipping ever finely away. The fact it doesn’t necessarily invite participation from the audience the way someone like Javi naturally endears himself, therefore, never reads to me as haughtiness or coldness but simply that the fire isn’t fuelled by external interaction. Personally, as a fan, I don’t need him to look up and smile at me all the time (to painfully extend this metaphor), I’m content to just admire both the beauty of the piece he’s carving out - which for me is unlike anything I’ve seen - and the intensity of following him work towards that unknown endpoint.  

Even with his performative pieces and the emotion he shows in his performance, I still read it as him trying to master that facet of being able to wholly embody the charisma of a character or mood of the piece - the interaction is part of his journey towards mastering a character, not necessarily because he wants himself to flirt with the audience. That being said, I really enjoy LGC and seeing Yuzu become more comfortable with wielding the power he’s managed to build naturally over the audience in a more overt and perhaps more ‘natural’ way, where he’s letting his contradictorily mischievous ‘off-ice’ personality leak through a little.  

I feel like it’s come through more strongly and more naturally with time, maturity and confidence in that aspect of his performing. I saw some really amazing glimpses of that in CiONTU. I’d love him to push himself with a tango or upbeat jazz or music that puts ‘audience interaction’ at the start for that reason, to really see if he can further develop that ability to draw the audience in, even if they may not be able to touch him, so to speak. Or the music like the team Japan fan dance at 2014 WTT. But honestly, I think he could do a lot of genres - rock, something darkly operatic or dramatic or even something completely new and innovative like SEIMEI - his take is always shaped uniquely by his own style.  

The only genre I can’t really see Yuzu either wanting to do or necessarily showing off his best qualities is stuff that requires a character super outside his own - deliberate silly comedy a la Javi’s Chaplin or his matador EX (Yuzu’s comedy - like the sort of ‘dashing charm’ of LGC - works best when he’s not trying lol). Or mellow Western folk music or old timey theatre songs like Canada Singing in the Rain or w/e. Jury’s still out on if he can do contemporary pop music (he could definitely do a Jpop program but idk about ~cool~ Western music like Nemesis).

Edited to add: yes he skated to Bieber and it was kind of meh (not terrible but def not ~singing to his soul~) but he was a bb so I don’t think it’s indicative of anything now

#lae answers #yuzuru hanyu #asks: yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #watch him skate to cotton eye joe just to spite me #lololol

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lins-fandom-hub · 5 years

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Music Locked Away (Barnaby Lee X OC MC)

(I’m gonna try my hand at a one-shot on Tumblr--it won’t be perfect, but I’ll give it my best shot. This would be based off of my OC on Hogwarts Mystery and some personal experience.)

Since I brought it up to Professor McGonagall one day that I could play the piano, she thought it fit for me to have access to a room that not many students know about--a piano room on the seventh floor of the castle, housing a polished black grand piano that I could only imagine playing on since I started learning the instrument at home. The sight of the instrument made me want to cry for joy when I first saw it--it was as if she unlocked before me a part of home I thought I’d left behind. Ever since Jacob’s disappearance, I have taken it upon myself to work hours a day in front of the black and white keys, losing myself in the tunes of famous classical composers that soothed me and rooted me to reality. Soon, music became such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t imagine a day without it.

Of course, only a few of my friends know of my musical talents. I would admit that I wasn’t the best, and that was why I kept this fact in the dark as we searched for the Cursed Vaults. Locating all these Cursed Vaults felt rewarding, I would admit, but with every year that passed, I felt like my efforts were fruitless and all for naught. The longer the search went on for my brother, the farther I felt he was drifting from me. The piano was the only way I could keep my problems at bay, and imagine, even if for a moment, that he was still at home.

One night following the stressful O.W.L.s, I was in the piano room, playing on the piano as usual with my results paper sitting right by the stand. My fingers were on autopilot tonight as they glided gracefully over the piano, playing a waltz I knew only too well. I was so engrossed in the music, admittedly, that I didn’t notice the door opening and closing as someone came in.

It wasn’t until I finished when I saw him, a small smile playing on his face.

“I had no idea you were a pianist, Clara.”

I watched as Barnaby crossed the room, his eyes trained on the piano before he sat beside me on the piano bench. Under typical circumstances, I would have been glad to see him--after all, he was one of my closest friends. But tonight, I felt a little self-conscious. How much of my music did he hear?

“How did you--how did you find me here?” I asked him carefully.

Barnaby shrugged in response. “Luck, I guess. I heard the piano music while I was getting out of a tutor session in Charms with Rowan, so I thought I’d check it out.” He also pointed to the keyhole at the door. “I didn’t even have to look twice in there to recognize you.”

Oh. I felt a strange heat blossom over my cheeks when he said this, and shuffled my feet a bit on the ground, the soles of my shoes lightly brushing over the pedals. “I see.”

It didn’t help that he was sitting so close to me. The lingering scent of sandalwood and fresh laundry wafted through the space between us--a scent I got so familiar with from the many times I burrowed my face into the grey sweater he gifted me so long ago. Since we became friends in third year, I was quick to recognize his strength and power, but one thing that really stood out to me was his protectiveness. His willingness to take the blows that were meant for me, to sacrifice himself so I would be safe...no one had ever done this for me. I was so touched by it that eventually, I started to develop a crush on him.

Of course, only a few of my friends really knew about that as well.

“How long have you played?” he asked me then.

I shrugged in response. I didn’t really feel ready to talk about this openly with anyone--not even with the boy I trusted so much. “Well...I started when I was little,” I eventually started. “I always loved letting loose at the piano. It was one way I could let go of all my problems in life. Jacob used to make fun of me every time I made a mistake, but all in good fun.” I removed my hands from the keys, but I couldn’t find it in me to look at Barnaby.

“He used to tease me about my inclination with music, but he didn’t mind it. In fact, he enjoyed hearing me play as much as I enjoyed actually playing the piano,” I said. “It got harder when he left, though. After his expulsion, when he disappeared...everything just felt emptier without him around. The music...” I gestured to the piano weakly. “It felt like it lost its life.”

For a moment, Barnaby remained silent, only nodding as he heard me explain the story behind the music. Then he asked, “So why do you keep playing?”

“Because to me, music holds a sort of transcendental value. It brings emotion to all of us, even when we don’t feel it. But it also reminds me of the times Jacob used to be around. He’d tease me, yeah, but we bonded over it,” I murmured.

What I didn’t expect then was for Barnaby to move away from the bench. “Can you play something for me?”

This was normally the part where I would say no. I didn’t really want to showcase this part of me--this vulnerable part of me--to the world, and especially not to him. After seeing how I could win every duel and brave through every adventure with the Cursed Vaults, the last thing I wanted was for everyone to know that I cried over my brother through the piano. But I couldn’t resist Barnaby’s puppy eyes. Admittedly, they were the only thing I couldn’t say no to.

So I nodded, choosing a rather touching piece my brother really enjoyed--a Chopin nocturne.

youtube

The melancholic melody rang through the keys, my fingers acting on their own accord as I recalled the song my brother loved so much. Memories soon sprang to the forefront of my mind--the time he taunted me with a Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum while I was trying to perfect this piece, blowing bubbles so big he’d pop them obnoxiously once in a while; all the times he sang the melody in a high falsetto making me laugh...so many memories, not as fond at the time, but so sweet now, and almost completely forgotten with his disappearance. Deep breaths entered my body as I played, oblivious to Barnaby standing there watching me curiously, a look of concentration and interest graced over his face. When at long last the final note sounded through the room, I glanced up at him, eyebrows slightly raised, only to see tears brimming in his emerald eyes.

“That was...” He wiped his tears quickly with his fingers and went over to me, hugging me so suddenly it would have knocked me off my feet had I been standing. Instead, I just hugged him back, admittedly a little stunned.

“Not horrible?” I asked, chuckling slightly.

Barnaby chuckled as well, shaking his head. “It was beautiful. I’m sure your brother would have loved it so much.”

I only nodded again as I held him tighter, the scent and his aura calming me. A few tears leaked from my own eyes as well, but for once, I felt glad someone was there to hear the music I’ve kept locked away for so long.

Some time in the near future, Jacob would come back and tease me again about my music. But for now, I would continue to work hard so that one day, he would hear it and love it too--as much as Barnaby said he would have.

This was literally written while I have a major block--I kind of knew what I was going to write but it didn’t really turn out the way I planned it. I’m sure a lot of us can relate to that.

But oh well--this is my first written work on Tumblr!

I have more stories on my Wattpad--you can follow me there (-fromthehallows is my username) to see more of my stories. I write a lot of fanfictions, mostly, from HPHM to Miraculous Ladybug to Big Hero 6 and The Hunger Games. Not sure if I’m ever going to write something original, but we’ll see.

Anyway, that’s all from me for now. I’m gonna sign off before this gets too long.

#barnaby lee #hphm barnaby #barnaby x mc #barnaby #hogwarts #hogwarts mystery #piano #pianist #chopin #frederic chopin #cursed vaults

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50-shades-of-beige · 6 years

Text

Other side of the wall.

Summary: Jim, your next door neighbour, blares his guitar while you play delicate tunes on your piano. The two of you couldn't be more different until the magic of making music connects you both.

Warnings: little bit of arguing, swearing, tiny bit suggestive at the end

A/N: Just a another Hopper x reader fic for you all to indulge in. This one is a little different! It's set in New York and has a muscican au vibe to it. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! 😁❤️

Gif source [x]

When you moved to New York city you enjoyed the prospect of having neighbours. Neighbours above you, under you, either side of you- it was one of the main reasons why you had your heart set on an apartment almost smack bang in the middle of the city.

It was a beautiful neighbourhood. Tall brownstone buildings on either side, cherry blossom and oak trees lining the pavements- it was picturesque. The only problem was the stairs. When you moved in, getting your stuff- including your baby grand piano- was horrendously strenuous and time consuming but with the help from the removal company, you were relaxing in your apartment later that evening.

The complex you lived in was fairly quiet, there was six apartments in the one building. You lived on the top level- the apartment across from you was empty and up for sale. Below you in the other four apartments there was a widow who had beautiful window boxes which she tended to everyday, a middle aged man who often came home late and left early the next morning for work, a young couple who had just gotten engaged and another house that was rented out by a landlord so had always had new people in it when it wasn't empty. They were all lovely and got along with you well. You asked them when you moved in if playing the piano would be a problem, they all insisted that it wasn't and said they rather enjoyed the live music drifting down the stairs and in through their windows when theirs and yours were open.

You had to practice a lot. You had gotten a job in swanky hotel to play it and as well as that you also played for a regional orchestra.

Playing the piano was your life.

It was a typical sunny Tuesday. Your windows were wide open late in the afternoon and a gentle breeze was making the curtains dance. You were composing a new piece, one hand holding a pencil and jotting down notes while the other effortlessly drifted over the keys.

You were making good process when-

Screech!

Your hand slammed down on the keys with fright as a loud noise filled your apartment, almost making your ornaments on top of your fireplace wobble.

"What the hell was that?!" You asked yourself and stood up from your piano stool and looked out the window. The noise had gone and you couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. You sighed and shook it off returning to your piano and playing your tune again. It was soft, delicate until it reached a grand crescendo and your whole apartment erupted with music.

Screech!

That noise again. It made you jump and made you mess up your piece completely. "What the hell?!" This time you could pinpoint where it was coming from. The living room that was next to yours and separated by a wall. You went back to your window and leaned outside, reaching across slightly to knock on the window next door.

The woman with the window boxes had told you about a new neighbour who had bought the apartment across the landing from yours. The window opened and your breath hitched when you saw your new (surprisingly attractive) neighbour. He had the fluffiest hair, the colour of it very similar to his beard and eyes that could compete with the blueness of the sea and easily win.

"Can I help you?"

Then you remembered that you were pissed with him.

"Yeah, what the hell was that noise?" You asked.

He shrugged "My electric guitar, trying to tweak my amp to get the right volume to drown out your fancy ass classical shit."

You raised an unimpressed brow "'Fancy ass classical shit'? You mean my piano?" He let out a snort of laughter "At least I can actually play! Sounds like you were killing an animal or something!"

His eyes narrowed "What I was playing was actual music, fancy ass. If you take requests, my request is for you to shut up."

You were seeing red, your fingers twitched furiously and you went back to your piano, inhaling a deep breath and slamming your fingers down on the keys creating the loudest note you could. You were going to show him what actual music sounded like.

Mainly out of spite.

You quickly and flawlessly played the most intense and dramatic piece you could. But on the other side of the wall, your neighbour knew two could play at that game and blared out a note on his electric guitar, sliding his fingers up and down the strings to create wails and hums that were trying to drown out your piano. When you finished the piece you slumped across the keys and caught your breath, too caught up in competing with who could play the best and the loudest. You wiped the trickle of sweat away from your hairline and let a growl under your breath as your neighbour continued playing.

•••

The competing carried on for weeks and then eventually a month and then two months. The entire duration your neighbour had been living across from you.

You tried your best to ignore the cackling of amplifier and screech of the guitar and your neighbour in general. The amplifier and guitar were harder to ignore than your neighbour, the only time you had saw him was when the two of you had your heads sticking out the window eight weeks ago.

You had just returned home from work and you wanted to do nothing more than sit back, relax and the play piano for an hour before bed. Before you went upstairs, you collected your mail from your box in the communal hallway. General mail, you flicked through them one by one and then stopped when you noticed that one wasn't addressed to you.

"James Hopper?" Realisation hit you "Oh god..." you groaned. You let out an irritated huff when you noticed that you couldn't get into his box to put the letter in- the mail person had a master key. You decided to just take it up to him and slide it under the door. When you reached the top you kneeled down and had slid the envelope halfway under the door when it opened. You froze and slowly looked up to see him standing over you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Uh," you quickly stood up and extending the letter out to him "This was in my mailbox but it's addressed to you."

He took the letter "Thanks," he uttered as if it was a chore talking to you.

"You're welcome, James." You notice his face scrunch up when you called him that.

"Just...call me Jim...or asshole, because I know you're thinkin' it half the time," he let out a breathy chuckle and the corner of your lip tugged upwards.

You finally introduced yourself properly "Y/N...or fancy ass." Jim genuinely smiled and shook your hand before you bid him goodnight and went into your apartment.

After you had changed into your pyjamas and before you went to bed, you played your composed piece. You had written lyrics in your notebook on the way home from work and were trying to find perfect places for them between the music notes.

You played a few notes and sang what you had: "I don't know about you, but I hope you feel it too..." you scribbled out a note and replaced it with another "Am I the only one who can see what we've become...?"

You scribbled down more notes and words for at least an hour before calling it a night. Unbeknownst to you, your neighbour was listening.

And he was impressed.

•••

"Ah Chopin...more like Cho-pain..." you couldn't help but snort with amusement at your own joke as you practiced. You flicked through your song book while you recited each and every song until you were done. It took half the day but at least you would be prepared for your concert at the weekend.

You pulled out your own composed piece and began to play it and hum along with the words. You thought you were hearing things when you heard someone play along with you.

You played an A and another A followed. You placed a C and seconds later another C was playing. It was like an echo. You decided to experiment and play a few chords, again, they were repeated seconds later. You played more and listened closely until a sharp was played instead of a flat.

You held your breath for a second before speaking out to nothing but the four walls of your living room "It's a C flat not a C sharp..."

There was a moment of silence "Sorry! I'll get it right next time."

You let out a short giggle and played again, when you finished the song, you had an idea. You bit down on your lip and left your apartment barefooted, walked across the landing and knocked on Jim's door. "Do you...do you want to see what I've got written down?"

Jim smiled "Sure, hold on," he turned around and went to where his living room would be while you kept glancing back as you walked into your apartment. You sat down at the piano and played a few keys before Jim walked in with an acoustic guitar.

You smirked "And here I thought you only played electric..."

"I'm full of surprises," he winked and sat down next to you on your stool "Did you write it yourself?" He motioned at the sheet of paper "I've heard you play it a few times."

"Yeah, I did write it..."

"The lyrics too?" He asked and tuned his guitar.

You nodded "Yeah..." you nervously cleared your throat "Sorry if you heard me, I'm like nails being dragged down a chalkboard!"

"No!" Jim protested with a wide smile "You're actually quite good. You okay with me playing along?" You nodded and began playing, Jim perfectly harmonising with you. His guitar was a great addition. The night crept in and you walked him to your door, saying a final goodnight before you both shut your doors over. You climbed into bed and let out a loud sigh with a smile on your face. Perhaps Jim wasn't as bad as you initially thought.

You knew his bedroom was on the other side of the wall from yours so, you decided to put a little more effort in with him "Hey Jim?"

It took him a few seconds to reply "These walls are super thin..." he joked and you giggled, he soon joined in. "For a second there I thought you where a ghost or something."

"Yeah, these apartments try to have so much space that the walls are compromised. Also, the drains are connected, I can hear you singing Elvis in your bathroom in the morning through my sink when I'm in the shower," you chuckled "But I didn't want to have a conversation with you through the wall about how thin they are, I wanted to asked if you maybe wanted to come to my orchestra recital this weekend?" A beat passed and you quickly added "You don't have to if you don't want to of course! I'm not trying to force you into going or anything and I-"

Jim cut off your ramblings "-I'd love to."

•••

"A bit cliché but you were amazing!" Jim handed you over a bunch of roses by the stage door "Almost makes listening to your practicing bearable!" He joked and you lightly nudged his shoulder.

"Thank you, and thank you for coming and for the roses. They are beautiful." You admired them with a shy smile.

Jim looked at you adoringly as he watched you trace your finger over the petals. The same fingers he watched a mere half an hour ago whizz over keys faster than the speed of light during some pieces.

When you arrived back at the building, Jim invited you into his apartment to let you listen to something he had been practicing.

You sat down on the couch while he sat across from you on a stool. His living room had at five full sized guitars scattered around it- two acoustic and three electric. There was also a bright blue ukulele on the arm of the couch and plectrums everywhere. You could see that he was nervous and it made your brow furrow.

"Okay, so," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck and tuned his already tuned guitar. He couldn't help it, his trembling fingers needed something to do. "I've been working on this, it's not finished yet but...I hope you enjoy it." You watched him get comfortable before strumming a few notes and starting to sing: "When I first saw you I couldn't believe my eyes...you've got so much beauty, babe that ain't no lie. But we were both kinda stupid and were both far to proud, so the both of us couldn't help but be obnoxiously loud. Now honey I know the walls are paper thin and the drains are interconnected, but when I am around you I feel my heart is affected with nothing but the sweet sound of love...mhmm...the sweet sound of...love..." he cleared his throat and placed down his guitar "That's uh...that's all I've got..."

You stood up from the couch without saying a word. You walked over to him and he stood up "I loved it," you whispered with a smile growing on your face.

"R-really?" Jim went wide eyed before he cupped your face and kissed you "Sorry I called you a fancy ass."

You burst out laughing "Sorry I mentally called you an asshole..."

"We'll just call that getting even," you smirked at his words and kissed him again.

"You wanna come next door and make some music?" You asked.

"We gotta be be careful how loud we're making music..." Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You looked down to the ground and blushed with a coy smile "The walls are shockingly thin..."

Jim captured your lips with his "Can you can cope with me singing Elvis in the morning?"

You smirked "Only if I can be your backing singer."

"Well then," Jim wrapped an arm around you and pulled you towards your apartment "We better get our vocal chords warmed up..."

—————————

Tags:

@sleepylunarwolf @daddyharbour

#jim hopper x you #musician!au #chief jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #chief hopper x reader #hopper x you #hopper imagine #chief hopper #hopper x reader #hopper #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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juminsmysticmc · 6 years

Note

HC where MC is a piano virtuoso. Please, and thank you.

Piano virtuoso Mc

Wow! i had a project on Chopin and had to explain this word ^^I hope you like it, I´m not really happy about my work but yeah! Tell me if you enjoyed it! Have a nice day!

Jumin

For your third RFA Party someone wanted to play something on the piano in the hall

it was pretty well done but you knew where the mistakes were and told Jumin about

,,Amazing! I guess she isn´t playing so long but can do it so well!´´

,,How do you know that?´´he asked you

you explained that you were a piano teacher and that you played for a long time in musicals and in the church

he was amazed.

The next day you woke up and in the living room there was standing a piano

Jumin said, he wanted to hear you playing

So you let him hear a few pieces and he was amazed

Even Elizabeth loved it so much that she relaxed near you

Zen

Since you were his manager you could go in every room you liked and one day you wanted to check the stage for Zen

You saw a beautiful black piano and couldn´t resist

You had to play.

You played something from Vivaldi and you felt your muscle relax as your finger played on the piano.

Until Zen entered the room

You didn´t hear him but he heard you playing and was amazed of your beauty while playing

He hugged you from behind and you felt his warm chest against your back

,,Where did you learn it?´´

,,I played since kindergarten.´´

,,You´re amazing! Did you stop?´´

,,I couldn´t play anywhere so yes….´´

After this he afforded a keyboard so you could play it since he loved to listen to it.

At the right time he wanted to buy you a big Piano but the house was to small

but soon enough you had your piano

Yoosung

On Christmas you were invited at Yoosungs familys´ place

they had a piano, you didn´t know!

,,My sister played it…´´he told you

,,Can I play something?´´you asked and everyone nodded.

Why not?

,,It´s normal at my familys´ place to play the piano while singing. Should we do it too?´´

your eyes were shining so beautiful that Yoosung got excited too!

Everyone wanted you to play but you first wanted to play something to make your finger warms

Yoosungs sister said as joke to play something by Mozart and you agreed.

They all thought you could just play simply things but

OMG you could do this so well!

You played something so hard and so perfect they were all amazed.

None wanted to hear any christmas songs anymore but big pieces like the ones by Beethoven or Chopin.

The next year they got you a piano in order to let you play.

Jaehee

A guest told you, that music was missing in your coffee shop and brought you a keyboard

You quickly became heated up and wanted to play!

You played so well and more customers came in to hear your pieces.

,,How?´´Jaehee asked

She was amazed by your play.

She often wanted to play the piano but couldn´t

You told her that you loved the piano and went to school to learn it

after this you taught Jaehee how to play and every monday you would play in the coffee shop for your lovely guests

Saeyoung

He knew everything about you

also, that you played for a really long time the piano

,,Mc! Mc! What do you call a laughing piano?´´

,,Don´t know?´´

,,A Yama-hahahaha!´´

Dumb boy laughed by himself while you looked at him

please stop you´re annoying?!

a little bit later he gave you a selfmade keyboard to play since he couldn´t buy you a right piano

,,It´s to big…´´

he told you

,,It´s okay! Thank you!´´ after a kiss he wanted you to play something and he loved it!

Saeran fell asleep while you played because it was so relaxing.

,,Do you want to play too?´´

,,No, Piano is not my forte´´he told you

,,Yeah and programming is like sex, one mistake and you have to support it for the rest of your life.´´

baaaam you´re fucked!

MASTERLIST 1

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mistakesarebeingmade-blog · 6 years

Text

Sorry this is so late! I wrote an 8000 word angst Bakudeku fan fiction for @otaku-1325

Participating in @boku-no-secret-santa was so much fun!! I hope this writing is what you were looking for!

Words: 8184

Includes swearing

Possible typos

No Quirks AU // This fic is slightly inspired by Your Lie in April. If you don’t know what that it, I suggest you watch it with tissues. If you do, well, you have an idea of what’s coming. Enjoy!! (This story is in Bakugou’s point of view)

Silence — A BakuDeku fanfic

-·- silence (n.) — the complete absence of sound | Origin — Middle English: from Old French, from Latin silentium, from silere ‘be silent.’ -·-

“Local piano competition on Wednesday, March 15,” I read to myself.

Lately, I’ve have had nothing to do. All of my friends have plans and I’m either stuck at home (ugh) or trying to find some bullshit thing to do. I decided to look at the “Upcoming Events” bulletin board at the school as a last resort. The flyer for the piano competition was just the first thing I pulled off the board. I don’t give a shit about piano but anything is better than nothing.

March 15th is tomorrow. I call my mom to tell her that I have plans.

“Did you call to tell me that you’re moving out, Katsuki?” she answered. I know, she’s great.

“No, I have plans for tomorrow so I’m not trapped in the house all fucking day,” I tell her.

“Language! Also, good for you. You got a life. What is it?”

“A piano competition…” I mumble, already knowing her response.

“Katsuki! Oh my fucking God! You really have run out of ideas!” I heard her laughing hard in the background. “Hope you have a great time.” And with that, she hung up, but I swear I could still hear her.

Well now I’m definitely going and I will have a fucking good time to prove that old hag wrong, I promised myself.

I just hope that I have a good time or I risk my mother making fun of me further.

-· We’re all strange and maybe we don’t wanna change ·-

I decided to wear a black collared shirt with black jeans. They wear the least… death related clothing in my closet. My mother was smirking as I left the house.

I arrived at the competition just as it began. I was handed a program with the name and order of the contestants. They were all going to play the same piece of music, Chopin something or other. While looking over the list, I recognized a couple of names. They were Kirishima Enjiro and Midoriya Izuku. Kirishima is one of my friends and he told me that he was going to some shitty party, not this. I would make sure to confront him about it later.

Midoriya is a whole other damn story. We were childhood friends. At first, it was because my mom made me, but he was a really good friend. Midoriya Izuku was loyal, trustworthy, honest, and kind. It was like I won the fucking lottery with him. He’s played the piano for a long time and has always been very good. However, he was eventually considered “uncool”. My more popular friends pushed Izuku away. They gave him the nickname Deku and that stuck. I still call him that, if need be. I see that it hurts him but I have a reputation to uphold. It’s already rocky after coming out as a flaming homosexual. If I was thought to have more than negative feelings towards him, then I’d be ruined. It’s horrible, yes, but that’s the way my mind works.

Anyway, the competition was starting and I made my way to the auditorium. The first person up was some damn rich kid. I’d never heard of him before. His playing was relatively dull and unoriginal. I nearly fell asleep.

By the second performance, I was asleep. I woke up when a more interesting version of the musical piece was being played. It had harder and louder tone to it. When I looked at who was playing, I was not surprised to see Kirishima at the piano. All eyes went to him. It was amazing, surprisingly, and I sat on the edge of my seat.

Next was the last performance and obviously the other fan favorite, Midoriya Izuku. When he walked on stage, he looked much different from the last time I saw him (two weeks ago). His green hair was a little longer and reflected the light from the ceiling. He wore a suit tailored specifically for him, which fit perfectly. His bright, green eyes glowed from the excitement. He fucking belonged on that stage and we all knew it.

When he sat down at the piano bench, the auditorium went dead silent. We held our breath waiting for Izuku to play the first note. When he did, it sounded so different from everyone else. It was the exact opposite of Kirishima’s performance. These notes were gentle. They were like walking through Japan in a place where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and you can have all the beauty to yourself.

The notes also told a story. Izuku transformed the song from something dull into a story of his life. They told of a happy, humble start in a simple but beautiful setting. They then moved onto a slightly more excited and nervous tone. There was also a bit of joy in there. It felt like the early school days or maybe a really good friend. They stayed here for a while. Some people were getting noticeably antsy as they awaited the next part of the story.

The next part of the story took a dark turn. They suddenly became the opposite of the earlier happy sounds. Something big and life-changing happened in the story. Maybe the main character lost someone they really cared about? The song was almost done before the tone shifted again. This time it felt like the story’s character was lost without anyone to really hold onto. When I took a look at the people around me, I saw tears in their eyes. I looked over at Izuku. He looked ready to bawl. Then I left something wet on my face. My first thought was rain. My second was that this is an enclosed room. My third was the realization that I, too, was crying.

And, finally, the story (or song, rather) ended. I craved more but could feel that there was none more. That was all of the story so far. Then, I thought back to Izuku’s face as he played the ending of the song. A sudden realization shocked me. This story is his.

Everyone went to their feet while applauding Izuku, as did I. He deserved it. He bowed and waved at the audience. We still clapped. I could see him blushing, even under the bright stage lights. He was proud to have made such an impact on so many people. Some threw flowers onto the stage for him. He picked them up and walked off the stage.

The person I went to see first after the competition was Kirishima. He had more explaining to do and didn’t seem horribly busy (well, he was but I scared them off).

“B-Bakugou! I didn’t know that you liked piano music!” he stuttered. I laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

“I didn’t until today. You and Izuku left quite the impression,” I tell him.

“Midoriya was so amazing! The way he captivated the audience every step of the way is something I wish I could do. Did you know that he’s been playing since he was three?”

“Yeah. I have a question for you though. Why did you lie about a party, hair for brains?” I gave him my best evil eye.

“Um, well, you see… I wanted to sound cool?”

I rolled my eyes. “Your playing was goddamn manly enough. Now go talk to your fans. I have another fucking person to talk to.”

I left Kirishima to his fans and made my way through the sea of people surrounding Izuku. I tapped him on his shoulder to get his attention. When he saw me, I swear he jumped twenty feet. I chuckled slightly at his reaction.

“Kacchan! Wha-What are you doing here?” he stammers. I notice how he still calls me the name he’s called me since we were little. I find the thought fact comforting.

“Watching people play the piano. You did pretty fucking decent, Deku,” I say without realizing what I’ve called him. He winces but keeps smiling.

“Thank you…” he mumbles. He puts his head down.

“What the hell is wrong? Is everything alright with your mom?”

He looks back up at me. “Huh?” I don’t think he expected me to ask such a personal question after I had bullied him for years.

“Well? Are you ok?” I urge.

“Yes, if it makes you happy. Why do you care, Kacchan? You’ve tormented me for years and now you decide to be pleasant? I’m terrified to face you,” he admits. His words stung, but I deserved that.

“Look around, Izuku. Do you see those people that used to follow me around?” I asked. He looked around.

“No, you left them behind when you got accepted to the high school we attend. What’s the purpose of this?”

“I was cruel to you because those assholes made me. They were the ones that came up with that nickname of yours that I accidentally called you. I never wanted to stop being your friend and I chose popularity over you.” Next, I am going to say the hardest words for me to say, as I’d been raised differently. “I’m sorry.”

Izuku stared at me with a blank look on his face. We stood in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “How do I know that you’re being truthful? I assume that you realized that the way I played the piano tonight described my life, but did you know that part of the dark and desolate section was about when I lost you?”

It was like a dagger through the heart with the way he said that. I knew that I caused him pain but not to the point where he felt so strongly that he could include in a piece of music.

“I didn’t know. Please meet me at the café a couple of blocks from here so I can try and prove myself to you,” I finally said.

He shook his head. “No, Kacchan. I can’t afford another loss. I’ve grown since then. Maybe if you can prove yourself around other people at school, then I might take another chance on you. If not, then you must learn to say goodbye. Oh, and one more thing. I won’t allow you to call me by my first name either until I can trust you again. Have a nice day.”

And then he went back to the people wanting to talk to him about his playing, acting like nothing had happened.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I spun around ready to slap them when I saw that it was just Kirishima.

“Bad day?” he asks me.

“Shitty Hair, don’t sneak up on me!” I yell.

“Sorry! But honestly, how are you? Your conversation with Midoriya didn’t seem to go very well.”

“It was fucking -f- fine! I don’t want to talk about it and if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home and have a nap or five. See you tomorrow.”

-· I’ll be a dreamer ‘till the day I die ·-

I had a nightmare that night. In it, I was a child again. Midoriya was there, too. He had scratches on his knees and hands from when I pushed him on the ground.

“Stupid Deku! You can’t do anything right! Why did I let you around me for so long? My friends are right; you’ll never be more than Deku,” I had said to the sniffling boy.

He looked up at me with the most broken expression. Tears filled his eyes as he spoke just one word to me: “Why?” Midoriya ran off somewhere after that.

I backed into the looming shadows of our elementary school. I looked down at my hands and saw a blood red color start to envelop my body. I screamed and tried to get rid of it, but it wouldn’t leave. I tried calling for the people I called friends, but they just started laughing at me. I tried calling for Midoriya in the end. When he came, the red shadow disappeared but one word was left etched into my skin: why.

My mom yelled at me when I woke up screaming. “It’s three am, Katsuki! Some of us still want to get some damn sleep!”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a bowl of cereal and watched reruns of old shows until it was time to get ready for school.

Before I left to go to school, I asked my mom something that has been in the back of my mind since talking to Midoriya yesterday.

“Is the Midoriya family doing ok?”

My mom looked at me with a quizzical expression. “What makes you ask that? You haven’t shown a shred of interest in their family since you started bullying Izuku.”

“I was just something he said that has me concerned. He was performing at the piano competition and I talked to him for a little while,” I replied.

“He’s still doing piano even after Inko’s death? Damn, the kid has balls. He still—” I cut her off.

“Excuse me? His mom died and you didn’t tell me?” I shouted. My mom’s face flushed red.

“Shit! I forgot that you didn’t know…” she mutters.

“When?” I demanded.

“It was not too long after I got the second report of you bullying, so around five years ago in September?”

The second report of bullying happened not long after the first. That means that Midoriya’s mom died around when I started bullying him. That just made me feel even worse and further encouraged me to prove myself to him. I ran to the school so I could I could think of ideas.

There weren’t very many people there when I arrived. The only person that I was close to was Kaminari, and he was busy doing late homework. The only people here that could help me with this Midoriya situation are Todoroki and Uraraka. I walked up to them, careful not to look threatening (not easy).

“Uh, hi, Bakugou. What are you doing here?” Uraraka asked me.

“I need advice,” I admitted flat out. “It’s about Midoriya. You see, I need to prove myself trustworthy to him, which will be difficult. It’ll be even harder seeing as how his mom died soon after I started bullying him. I watched him play piano in a competition yesterday, and he poured his heart and soul into the piece. He told a story that couldn’t be expressed through words. Do you understand what I mean by any of that?”

They look at each other with a confused expression and shrug.

Todoroki says, “That won’t be easy. I haven’t been close to Midoriya for a long time, but I’ve seen how he can get when he’s upset. Depending on what it is, it could be really easy or really hard to make him feel happy again. It also has a lot to do with what he wants. If Midoriya doesn’t want anything to do with you, then that’s that. If he secretly hopes for you to come back, it will be easier only by the slightest. What you did was beyond forgiving, in my opinion.”

It’s Uraraka who speaks next. “I agree with Todoroki. You’re not a great person by any means but I have high hopes for you. I also have something else to add and it’ll probably help you out the most. Midoriya really likes it when people have physical, face-to-face conversations. If you can’t manage one of those, then try to do small gestures. They don’t have to be to only him, too. Prove you’ve changed by helping out everyone. Well, maybe not Mineta, but you get my point. Good luck, Bakugou.”

I walked away from them and sat down angrily at my desk. I tried to dissolve into the background and forget that I am here. I listened to small conversations between friends, Iida yelling at someone, and grape head being a pervert become one sound in the back of my head. I closed my eyes and let sleep engulf my conscious.

A loud bang woke me up suddenly. I drowsily looked around to see where it came from and saw Aizawa standing before, a blank expression on his face.

“Would you care to explain why you’re sleeping in my class, Bakugou? I’m the only one allowed to do that,” he said, monotone as usual.

“I was spacing out and I must have dozed off. Oops,” I answered, acting like my old self. I looked around and saw Midoriya shaking his head.

“Uh…I mean, I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying attention. It’s my fault,” I correct myself.

The classroom goes silent and everyone has a shocked look on their face, even Aizawa. Midoriya looks slightly proud of me, I think. It’s hard to tell with that tone of face. He marks something down in one of his notebooks.

“That’s fine. Um,” Aizawa is at a loss for words, still shocked by my apology. “Just pay attention.”

After class is dismissed, I try to think of my next good deed of the day. Ok, those words do not fit me. ‘My next good deed’? Really? Is this what I’ve succumbed to? I’m trying so hard to get Midoriya back that I’m willing to risk all that I’ve worked to get. And why? Why do I care so much about him? I just shrug off the feeling and focus of the task at hand.

I decide to help Jirou, a person I’ve never talked to more than once, carry all of her things to lunch. She was really shocked and apprehensive at first, but when she saw that I meant well, she let it go. It’s kind of a relief when people stop being scared of you. You don’t have to work so hard 24/7 to keep up the appearance. Now, I’m just like the rest of the side characters.

After helping Jirou, I go sit at my usual table with Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina. They joke around about Kirishima’s piano skills (I regrettably told them). Though Kirishima is laughing along with them, his eyes say that he doesn’t like it. I saw yesterday that he is truly passionate about the piano. It was his one escape and I spoiled it for him. I spoke up.

“Hey, dumbasses, how would you like if someone you considered a friend made fun of you for your one true passion? Like you, Mina. How would you feel if someone made fun of your love of aliens and conspiracy theories?”

She stops talking and looks at me. “Pretty shitty, not gonna lie. Aliens are my life!”

I wasn’t done yet. “And Sero? You love Spiderman and used to want to be just like him. I’ve seen your room and you still love him. What if you were bullied for that?”

It was his turn to look slightly confused. “Bad? Regret? I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be happy, I guess.”

Lastly, I turned to Kaminari. “You like Pokémon, specifically Pikachu, and have a fear of water. What if that was leaked?”

Kaminari, despite being a little slow, caught on to what I was doing. “Not good. I see what you mean.” He turns back to a confused Kirishima. “Sorry, bro. I didn’t think about what the piano might mean to you.”

Mina nods enthusiastically. The other had two finally caught on. “I’m really sorry, Kiri! I wasn’t thinking!”

“Me too. We all have our passions and yours is piano. That’s not a reason to joke. I’m sorry,” Sero finished. The three brought Kirishima into a bear hug.

Kirishima, being the emotionally unstable teenage boy he is, burst out into tears. He met my eyes and I just shrugged with a smirk on my face as if saying, ‘Don’t worry about it.’ I looked over and saw Midoriya writing more in his notebook. He glanced in my direction and smiled.

I met up with Midoriya after school. He wasn’t talking to any of his friends so I found the time appropriate.

“You did good today. They loved you,” he says. “Especially the whole thing with Kirishima. Now that was good. Who knew Bakugou Katsuki was such a great peacemaker, problem-solver, and just an all-around good person at heart?” Midoriya chuckles.

I looked around. “Don’t say stuff like that out loud!” I continued in a quieter voice, “I didn’t really try that hard with Kirishima. That was instinct. When one of my friends are hurting, I have to fix the problem immediately. He’s my best friend, as well,” I admitted. Midoriya smiled.

“That’s a good thing, Kacchan. You have a real capability of not being mean. You’ve impressed me today. I have to admit, when Aizawa woke you up, I was expecting a full-blown rage attack. Instead, you acted maturely. I took notes on all that you did and now I’m pleased to admit that I accept your café offer from yesterday! I’ll see you there in three hours.”

I actually smiled a bit. “I was going to ask you, actually,” I respond.

“I know. That why I did it.” Midoriya smirks and walks off to join Todoroki, Iida, and Uraraka. They all looked happy together and I was jealous of such a put together friendship, compared to my mess. Don’t get me wrong, I love those little shits, but they can be a real nuisance. They’re like hyperactive puppies that you need to train or else. I don’t even know how I got with them. I guess it mostly has to do with the sports festival earlier this year. After that, we were like best friends.

Anyway, enough about them. I think I’m getting my next chance with Midoriya. That’s exciting, I hope. But also not too exciting. I don’t want to die.

Later that day, he texted me saying that he was ready to go to the café. I told my mom that I was going out and took the bus there.

When I arrived, Midoriya was taking a few pills but I thought nothing of it. It was probably vitamins. He quickly put them away when he saw me, then waved me over with that dumb smile on his face.

“Hi, Kacchan. How are you?” he asked.

“Eh, fine, I guess. You?” I answered. At this point, we’re just stalling the real reason we’re here today.

“Could be better. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”

“Sure. You believe that I proved myself to you.”

“Yeah. I’m willing to forget about the past if you are. We’ll reset, in other words. This time, however, it’ll be without the bullying, the name-calling, and the backstabbing, deal?” His face remained neutral but his eyes begged for this. He wanted me to be the person from the good parts of his childhood again. No, it’s more than want; he needs me. Though he may have Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki, they didn’t know him at his worst. I did, mainly because I added to it.

“I accept.”

And like magic, we started over right then and there.

“Hello, I’m Midoriya Izuku, but call me Izuku. Pleased to meet you,” he greets with a usually cheery smile. We really are starting all over then, huh? I agreed so I better go along.

“I’m Bakugou Katsuki. Call me whatever the fuck you want. Do like coffee or tea more?” I asked.

“A green tea, thanks. I drink coffee solely for the purpose of energy. It’s disgusting. It tastes like a fruit gone rotten to the point where the fruit is gone. That’s an exaggeration but you get it!” Izuku laughs softly. I buy him his green tea and get a black coffee for myself. He makes a face at me when I tell him what I got for myself. I truly laughed for the first time in a while.

“What do you like to do, Kac— Um, is it alright if I call you Kacchan? If you don’t, that’s ok,” Izuku mumbled.

“You could call me something weird like dandelion and I wouldn’t care,” I tell him.

“Ok! You’re Dandelion now!”

I spit out the coffee I was drinking. “I-I was joking! It was an example! Please don’t call me that near my friends…”

Izuku laughs at how nervous I am. “I’ll just call you Kacchan then. Or maybe Lion or Dandy. Oh, Dandy! I like that!” He throws a sugar packet at me. “You’re so serious, Dandelion.”

I opened up my coffee cup and poured a bit into Izuku’s tea. He gasps loudly. “Well shit. My bad,” I say with a smirk.

“That’s mean! I was thirsty!” he complains.

“Then drink it. Use sugar or cinnamon or creamer to tone down the coffee flavor, if you want,” I suggest.

While he pouts, I try to remove as much coffee taste as possible with only sugar packets, cinnamon sticks, and five different creamer flavors (hazelnut, French vanilla, milk, chocolate, and strawberry, for those who care). Eventually, I got a brown liquid that didn’t resemble coffee, tea, or anything anyone should consume. I showed it to Izuku and his eyes lit up.

“Finally! A drink to match my soul.” Then he took a large gulp only to spit it everywhere afterward. “That was awful! It tasted like milky, really watered down, chocolate strawberry coffee. In other words, like something you’d make.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, fuck you. Anyway, you were asking me a question before your tea rudely interrupted. What was it?”

“Oh, yeah! What do you like to do for fun?”

Fun? I know the meaning of the word but don’t remember having it. “That’s when you smile and laugh or just enjoy yourself, right?”

Izuku gasped. “Dandelion! Do you not know what fun is?” He said this like it was a crime.

I was a little scared to answer. “Uh…No? Being angry is kind of my thing. If I was seen smiling and having fun and shit like that, I would be fucking murdered.”

“Not by your new friends, you won’t. They respect you! I promise that it’ll be ok. Come on, I’m taking you to the arcade.” Izuku stood up and began cleaning up the table.

I joined him and said, “This is 2023, not 1980, Izuku.”

He looked me dead in the eyes. “Do I look like I give a damn, Dandy? My mom taught me to be open-minded about all eras so I went to the vintage arcade. It turned out to be really fun. My mom said that she loved to go to them when she was a kid. We used to go together before…”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry. We can just go somewhere else?” I offered so Izuku didn’t have to talk about his mom anymore that he just did.

“No, no. We’re going and you won’t regret this. I will crush you at Pac-Man and Galaga!” he looked so happy that I agreed.

Upon arrival, I noticed a surprising about of people our age. It’s like vintage was the new modern for some. I even noticed someone from school.

If possible, Izuku smiled even bigger. He turned to me and said, “This will be the best! Todoroki is an expert at arcade games!” Then he catches Todoroki’s eye and waves him over. Behind him is a woman who looks similar to him. “Todoroki! Kacchan doesn’t know what fun is so I’m going to show him. Do you want to help? Also, who’s that?”

“Hello, Midoriya and Bakugou. This is my sister Fuyami. We were visiting our mom earlier and decided to unwind and come here. I guess we’ll join you since we’re here.”

I swear you could kill a hundred people in front of him or even die and he wouldn’t change his emotion.

Izuku pumps his fist into the air and pulls me over to the game called Pac-Man. It was obviously one of his favorites. He hands me a couple of coins.

“What the hell is this for? Do you want a fucking snack?” I asked, completely serious. The others burst out laughing, exception Todoroki, who just smiled a little.

The one called Fuyami spoke. “So you have the coins, yes? Do you see the little slot on the front of the machine? Put the coins in there.”

I did as I was told. “Now what?”

“Do you see the yellow ‘start’ button? Press it then grab the joystick. Once you hear the music start, move the yellow pie and eat the white dots. Make sure to avoid the colorful ghosts because they cause you to lose a life. You only have three. The big white dots turn the ghosts blue and you’re able to eat them for extra points then. If you see a fruit, eat it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded and went over the instructions she gave me. I pressed the start button and began making the little yellow shit eat white dots. It was actually kind of fun. A cherry appeared on screen so I began moving the yellow thing to it, not really paying attention to the things around it. Then, Izuku and Fuyami began yelling at me to turn around. One of the little blobs was coming right for me. I didn’t move fast enough and lost a life.

“That’s ok. You have two more. You can do this, Kacchan!” Izuku yelled. I smiled to myself and began again.

After that first failure, I began to get the hang of it. I finished up the first level in no time. The second and third level went even quicker. Izuku cheered me on.

Before we knew it, I was on level 50. A small crowd had gathered around me at this point. They all cheered me on despite not knowing my name. It was exhilarating. It was…fun. I did my best for all of these strangers but mostly for this small, green-haired boy right next to me.

I had reached level 114 very quickly. I had only one life left at this point but it didn’t fucking slow me down. I wonder if this was how arcades were forty years ago?

Izuku was bouncing up and down as I progressed further. He was happier than I was. I found the thought comforting.

I was nearing the final level when something went terribly, horribly wrong. I don’t know if it was the excitement or something else entirely, but Izuku collapsed. The people gathered around me looked very concerned. I yelled for Todoroki to call an ambulance. The background dissolved into nothingness as I panicked and tried to find out what could’ve gone wrong. Maybe it was the pills from earlier. Did they do something to his insides? Or was it an existing condition? Whatever it was, I hated it and it needed to die.

I convinced the EMTs to let me go to the hospital with Izuku because his mom was dead and his dad had disappeared years ago. I couldn’t focus the whole way there. I was too busy worrying about Izuku and what might happen. I tried asking an EMT what was wrong with him but they wouldn’t listen to me. I decided to call my mother instead.

“What?” she answered with.

“It’s Izuku. He collapsed while we were at that old arcade. I’m in the ambulance going to the hospital with him now. I might not be home for awhile,” I explained.

There was silence for a while. “I’m joining you there. Izuku is like a second son to me and I haven’t seen him since Inko died. I’ll meet you there, Katsuki,” she said before hanging up. Well, I didn’t plan for her to come, but if she wants to, that’s fine. I don’t really care.

When we arrived, there was chaos. I remember being told to sit in the waiting room, so I did. At some point, my mom arrived. One of the teachers from the school did as well. He is like a hero to us so the school dubbed him ‘All Might’ (after a famous comic book character). I don’t think anyone knows his real name.

I felt the presence of someone near me so I looked up. It was All Might. He asked me, “Bakugou, was there anything that might have caused this? Even the smallest detail would help.”

I took a breath. “There was a lot of excitement before he passed out.” I hesitated on the next part. It wasn’t any of my business but this could mean more than I think. “I also saw him take some pills earlier today. I don’t know what kind or how many but they were in the orange prescription pill bottle. That’s all I can think of. Sorry…”

He pats me on my back. “Thank you. Midoriya is like a son to me and it would destroy me if he was to die. I’ll go tell the doctors what you told me.”

I’m left in silence after that. My mother sits near me but says nothing. What is there to say?

Hours pass with no information. I periodically ask for anything but they won’t say. They’re actually trying to find any of Izuku’s living relatives right now. I imagine it’s not easy. His mom’s dead, his dad’s gone, and he never mentioned any grandparents, aunts or uncles, cousins, or anyone else really. I expected that they would turn to either All Might or my mother next.

When night falls, there’s a glimmer of hope. A nurse approaches my mom and me and says, “We were unable to locate any remaining relatives of Midoriya Izuku. How close are the two of you to him?”

“Well, he came over to my home many times in his youth when his mom had to work. My son is a close friend of his from childhood to now,” my mom answers. The nurse nods in response and beckons for us to follow her.

She takes us to Izuku’s room and then tells us his condition. “He’s stable now. Midoriya collapsed from exhaustion. We’ve been running tests and found that he has a form of—” A buzzer sounded at this moment. “Excuse me,” she says before rushing into the room.

“Well, that fucking blows,” my mom states.

“That Izuku is waking up?” I questioned, looking at her, puzzled.

“What? No. That she didn’t get to tell what’s wrong with Izuku.”

“Actually, I don’t think that he wants anyone to know. When I saw him taking pills earlier, he hid them when he noticed me. I don’t think he wants anyone to worry about him.”

“The boy is so nice, I’ll believe that. Oh, yeah. Isn’t his next piano thingy in a couple of weeks?”

The thought had completely left me. Izuku loves the piano and I know that he’s hate to miss this. “I forgot. I’m sure he’ll be fine by then. The preliminary is over and he’s going directly to the semi-finals because of how he ranked.”

The nurse exits the room now. She looks at me. “Midoriya would like to talk to you.”

I enter the room not knowing what to expect. Would he be mad at me? Sad? Have tubes coming out of his body?

“Dandelion!” Izuku says as soon as I close the door behind me. He’s sitting up in bed with a wide grin on his face. Seeing him like this makes me happy and my heart dance.

“You fucking scared me, you piece of shit!” I half-yell while walking over to him.

Izuku laughs. “Whoops! Guess that was a bit too much excitement, huh?”

“Hey, I was winning and you decided to steal my spotlight, fucker,” I replied with a smirk.

“Eh, fair enough. So are you just gonna keep standing there or can I kiss you? I’m sure you feel the tension as much as I do.”

I wasn’t even thinking about it until he mentioned it. I could feel it. Ever since we were young, I had felt that I liked him a bit differently than I liked other people. I was young, so I didn’t think much of it. When I really turned against him in middle school, I partially did it because I found out why I felt so weird around him. I liked him. I hated myself for it. The people I was around condemned that sort of thing so I thought I was doing something bad. I repressed my feelings for Izuku for a few years. Then, all of a sudden, we were having drinks at a café and my feelings came back stronger than ever, yet I still repressed them. And now we’re here, in a hospital room, facing a huge decision.

Do I risk the awkward moments afterward or not agree and never mention this again? What does Izuku want? What do I want? What do we want?

Izuku patiently waits for my answer. It’s not like he’ll be leaving anytime today. I carefully think over the pros and cons of both choices. I decide that one has very little compared to the other. I approach him.

Now, before I do this, let me say that I have a lot to risk and a lot to gain from this. It could be either the best or worst moment in my life but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

I reach the side of Izuku’s bed and grab his hand. He knows my choice and smiles. I choose him. I lean closer and—

“Midoriya! Are you ok? We— Bakugou? What are you doing here?” It’s Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki, of-fucking-course. Can’t the universe let me have one moment without fucking it up?

I jump back and act like we were just having a nice discussion before they came barging in. “Hello, have you heard of, um, fucking knocking?” I yelled.

“I told you it would be rude to rush in, Uraraka!” Iida said.

She scratches the back of her neck. “Well, uh, I thought it’d be a fun surprise! And…um…surprise?” Todoroki throws confetti from God knows where.

“Thank you! I love this! My best friends are all here! But knock next time, ok?” Izuku smiles to show that he is unbothered. I immediately feel uncomfortable. These people aren’t my friends. I don’t know shit about them. I begin walking to the door to give the four privacy. Izuku is the only one who would want me there, anyway.

“Dandy? Where are you going? Do you have to be somewhere?”

“Sort of, but—” I start saying.

“Let him go, Midoriya. He’s an ass,” Iida announced.

I look back at Midoriya. His eyes plead for me to stay but I know I can’t. I’m no longer welcome. The only one of them who may have stood up for me alongside Izuku is Todoroki because he saw how I was earlier, but he stayed out of it.

“I’ll text you later,” I said before leaving and shutting the door behind me. There’s only silence as I walk home.

I don’t bother texting him later, either. I had my chance and I blew it. It wouldn’t be easy to explain what happened to Izuku. I don’t go to school Friday and stay home all throughout the weekend. I get many texts from my friends and a few from Midoriya but I don’t look at any of them.

My mom enters my room. “You can’t stay here forever, Katsuki.”

“Watch me,” I mumbled.

“It’s Sunday afternoon for Christ’s sake! You’ve been in here since Thursday evening and only left to use the toilet. You’re losing a bit of weight! I’m actually worried about you.”

“Thanks for caring, but can I please go back to isolating myself?”

“A few of your friends have come by asking for you. I told them that you were sick. You were even left a flower with a note.”

The flower part caught my attention. “Let me see,” I say. The only person who would give me a flower would be either Mina or Kaminari, both as a joke. She hands me the flower and note.

It’s the kind of flower, or weed, that catches my eye. It’s a dandelion. I unfold the note next. It reads as follows:

‘Dear Dandelion,

I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable at the hospital. Todoroki and I scolded Iida and Uraraka for their behavior. They apologized, but I know that it means very little to you.

I don’t know your mind as well as I would like to. You’ve changed since we were kids. We’ve both gone through a lot. I know you don’t do well around people and I should’ve made my friends realize that and given us our privacy. You left before I could go with you. I was discharged two hours after you left. I was mad at my friends for ruining what could have very well been the end of our beginning.

I’ve been texting you to try and go out on a date but you didn’t respond. Honestly, I got worried. I love my new friends and all but I’ve known you longer. If something were to happen to you, I might die. And I mean that in a literal sense.

Speaking of death, that nurse didn’t tell you about me, did she? I asked the hospital long ago not to tell my condition to anyone without my approval. I know that you know that something is wrong with me at this point. You saw me taking pills and saw me pass out. Those aren’t the actions of a healthy person. I would tell you but I hate to have people feel sorry for me. When my mom found out, she began spoiling me. Remember when I got a new game console? That’s why.

I’m writing a second letter to you that explains everything I’ve just told you in detail and other things. I hope you never have to read it.

Sincerely, Izuku Midoriya

P.S. I’ll be at the café at three pm on Sunday. If you don’t want to come, I won’t make you.

Three pm was thirty minutes ago! If I’m going to go, I better go now. I quickly change into a t-shirt and jeans and begin running to the café. If I’m lucky, I’ll make it before Izuku leaves. I’ll be there in about eight minutes at the rate I’m currently running at. I just hope that Izuku decided to wait an hour for me.

It’s nearly four when I arrive. I search the building for Izuku. When I don’t see him, I ask the barista if they’ve seen him and she said that he left ten minutes ago. I thank her and begin running to Izuku’s house (the only reason he still leaves there and not a foster home is because he lies about his dad).

When I get there, I frantically knock on the door. It wasn’t Izuku who answered, it was Uraraka.

“Oh! Hi. I thought you were Iida. We’re having a study session and… never mind. Um, come in!” she greets. I shove my way past her and run up to Izuku’s room. I swing open the door and he’s sitting on his bed. I let out a sigh of relief.

“Dandelion! You’re here!” he exclaims with a large grin. “I thought you died.”

I laugh nervously. “I’m fine now. I had just gotten really bad anxiety after the hospital. I got your note at 3:30.”

“I’m so sorry! Was it my fault? I should’ve been more considerate of your feelings before asking—”

I cut him off with a long overdue kiss and in that moment, everything was perfect. The world was made just for us. Izuku wasn’t sick, I never bullied him, and his mom never died. You know people always describe first kisses with someone is like fireworks? Yeah, fuck that. This was like the part on a roller coaster drops you: exhilarating, a little scary,. but a lot of fun.

When I pulled away, I heard a familiar, commanding voice and a very feminine giggle. Izuku looked at the door and laughed. I turned to confirm my suspicions.

“It was Uraraka’s fault! She told me that we should check up on you but then she noticed your moment and watched! I apologize,” says Robot Nerd aka Iida.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I guess. But how could I not watch? You both looked so happy and peaceful and in love! I was going to take a picture to show your grandkids, but Iida said no,” Uraraka says with a pout.

This time, I don’t feel uncomfortable. Izuku can tell. He smiles at me and I smile back.

-· Oh, how the good die young ·-

It’s the day of Izuku’s next piano contest-recital-thingy. He’s going to play one of Bach’s musical things along with everyone else there. He told me that he wouldn’t play it as his story but instead, he would play for me. Nice things like this made me forget that Izuku would die one day.

Izuku put more emotion into this performance than his last one yet it was much more peaceful. The last one was the ocean but this one is a lake. This was tiring him out though. He was sweating and struggling to stay in tune but he managed. Watching was like magic.

When everything was done, I met with him in the foyer. Somehow, Izuku wasn’t as happy this time. He appeared scared. When I get near him, he hugs me tightly.

“I can’t do this, Dandelion! Toward the end, I thought I was going to pass out. The doctors gave me a brand new medication but it’s worse,” he says. When he looks up at me, tears are falling down his face.

“What? You were fine a few weeks ago!” I exclaim.

“That was before the collapse. Please, I... I don’t want to say anymore. I can’t have you feeling sorry for me as my mom had. It’s not good for you.”

“Ok. Alright. I just want us to be happy in the time we have.”

And we were.

Dear Bakugou Katsuki (aka Dandelion!!),

How are you? Probably not the best if you’re seeing this, I guess. I hope we had many good memories and I hope you keep them alive. I know that we had a rough history and that’s ok. We broke past that and into the future.

The best possibility is that you never read this and I’m cured. However, I know that can’t happen. The survival rate for what I have isn’t very high. I have (or had) terminal brain cancer. You probably wonder why I never had chemotherapy. Well, I did and was sick for days afterward. They didn’t do it again. I’ve passed out in the past, just never in front of a crowd. I know most of my nurses and doctors by name. That’s how often I go. There. That’s my sickness.

I wish I could’ve stayed with you longer. You’ve made me both the happiest and saddest person on Earth. Earth… This calls for a space analogy!

There are stars, galaxies, nebulas, planets, black holes, solar systems, and all kinds of things we don’t know about. I think of you as a nebula— beautiful, definitely dangerous, but a place for growing up and change. I consider myself a star— also beautiful but only from far away. Up close, you see that I’m dead. However, stars are “born” in nebulas. Before I met you, and I mean really met you, I was lost. I didn’t have a clue what to do with my life. Then, you changed that. You helped me feel normal again, if only for a short time. Remember the arcade? I hadn’t ever felt that alive.

Though we don’t have a future, we do have a past. We’ve laughed and cried together. I happen to find this nice. The future is a scary place full of many uncertainties; the past is forever. No one can ever take away our memories. Whenever you miss me or feel sad, think of those days. Don’t let them fade into nothingness. Keep them alive and I’ll never truly die. It’s like when people say that you’re never truly dead until you’re forgotten. I believe in that.

I don’t know what you’re going to do with your future. Maybe you’ll become someone who studies cancer or a father. Whatever you do, know that I support you all the way. I do ask one thing of you: live. I don’t mean “stay alive”, I mean live. Live each day as if it’s your last. Leave behind no regrets. Cause chaos, save people, party, enjoy yourself. Just live! That’s my one regret. I spent all my time in self-pity and the piano when I could have been just forgetting my sickness and living. You don’t have to do this!

Don’t let my legacy die and yours stop from existing.

Love, Izuku Midoriya

https://youtu.be/Wpv-vGScrvU

#boku-no-secret-santa #bakudeku

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constelacionde-orion · 7 years

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Soundtrack of my Dreams

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader!Daughter Stark Warnings:fluff and angst,(?

Summary: This is your story with Bucky Barnes, aka, your boyfriend’s best friend.

A/N : This is a hidden chapter for the serie Every you Every me, so yeah, I’m going to do the missing chapters of the series, maybe some of Y/N memories, with the point of view of different avengers. Hope you like it :)

Song: Chopin - Spring Waltz

Word Count: 3057

Warm nights. Awful Summer, and the mother fucking serum. Someone can easily think that was the reason why I was awake at 3:00 in the morning, but it wasn’t that reason, well, one of many.

My eyes were looking at the black and white piano keys. After countless nights with nightmares, I managed to do different things to calm my mind, but most of them didn’t worked. I tried training, reading, making some tea, watching movies, listening to music, even write my nightmares, but the only thing that for sure calmed me, was playing piano.

At first I thought I didn’t knew how to play piano but it was actually pretty easy, maybe I used to played piano before all this HYDRA shit, but anyway, when I was playing some distant memories came back, not awful of sad ones, actually good ones. This memories could make me hope that one day I’ll be able to remember everything about my past live, so that’s why, I recalled some songs that happened to appear on my dreams, or how I wrote down on my journals, the soundtrack of my dreams.

My fingers started playing a soft song I had practice over the month, still I couldn’t place the name of the song, but for sure I knew the notes. My fingers made that beautiful piece of music and that made me happy, every time it was getting better and better. Everything was calm until I heard a familiar voice in the distance.

“Chopin, Spring Waltz” the voice said, my fingers stopped and I turned my body to looked at her.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to stop” she said with a low voice.

“Don’t be, just… why are you awake Y/N?” I asked her with a yawn.

“Can’t sleep, most nights are like this…” she said awkwardly.

“Why?” I asked her and she looked at me confused.

“Well… This is for sure the longest conversation we had.” she said under her breathe, maybe she didn’t realize she actually spoke her mind, so I just chuckle.

“We might have the same reason why” She said, her eyes finding mines.

“You mean, nightmares?” i asked her with a frown.

She nod with her head and she looked at every single spot on the room, but never at me.

It have been like this for over the five months. I mean, when we arrived and it was actually a surprise to find a young girl in the Tower and even more shocking to know, she was actually Y/N Stark , the last bloodline of Tony. So of course things went pretty awkward for the two of us, I mean, I killed her family just to start with, and for sure Tony may had told her things about me, so in fact, yes, this was the longest conversation we actually had.

“What kind of nightmare could you possible have?” I asked her, I didn’t want to sound like a moron, but I was bit curious.

“They don’t have any sense for me you know?, but they are so real that…” She said with fear in her voice and the I saw her body shivering.

Oh hell, in fact she have it bad. Her body was shivering in the middle of a fucking summer night. This was when I really looked at her. Her skin was pale, sweat on her forehead, bags under her eyes… this wasn’t the first time she had those nightmares.

“Y/N, are you okay?” I asked her now with worry, I got up and I walked to her.

“I can feel when I kill them all” she said with sadness in her voice, and tears started to escaped her eyes.

Wait what?, she?, kill people?, how?. Why would she possibly had this kind of dreams, well nightmares?

“Y/N, look at me, please” I told her, I grabbed her chin for her to look at me, but she couldn’t manage to look me in the eye.

“They’re only dreams Y/N, I know I don’t know you pretty well, but I know you wouldn’t do such thing” I told her with a soft voice and the she opened her puffy eyes.

“I just want them to go away” she said and it broked my heart, this girl literally was all joy and smiles every day, but maybe, she was really broken.

“They’ll go, I promise” I told her with a smile.

“What you do to keep them away?” she asked trying to changed the attention.

"Well, you heard, I try playing piano..." I told her, my hand leaving her chin.

"I tried once..." She said with a sad smile

"And? did it worked?" I asked with a smile.

"I kind of...slammed my head against the piano" she said with a chuckle.

I chuckled too, this girl was one of a kind, and actually, it made me happy to see her smile, or just hear she's trying to let her nightmares go.

"But then Tony arrived" she said with a small smile, I return the gesture and we stayed in silence for some seconds before I spoke again.

"Do you wanna try? I mean playing piano?" I asked her with a smile.

"Nah, it's okay... but, can I listen to you, if you don't mind?" she asked me.

"Sure, come" Both of us sat on and my fingers started to play the song.

None of us said nothing, but I could totally felt her gaze on my fingers, looking at the different paths I made. Then, in the corner of my eye I saw her, she was looking at me, with this lovely smile, her eyes soft as the small curve of her lips, the moonlight shining in her skin. She moved closer to me, I didn't mind at all.

"Keep going" she said like a whisper, next thing I felt was her tiny hands on my hair, making a lazy bun.

I smiled at the small gesture, it was true that my hair kind of sting my eyes, so it was better to actually see what I was doing. When she finished, I felt her head against my shoulder and I smiled again. When the song finished I said nothing not even she. I though she felt asleep, but then she spoked.

"It was beautiful, Bucky" she said with a tender voice.

"Well, thank you" I told her after a long pause.

"Why do you hide such a beautiful talent, Barnes?" she said with a chuckle, and that earned one from me.

"It's the only time I can actually play, anyway, you're the only one that heard me... and it's the first time I played it complete I said with a smile.

"Where did you heard this song?" she asked me, her head still in my shoulder.

"In a memory, a dream I guess" I told her, I saw her fingers ghosting above the keynotes.

"You learned a full song, because it was in your dream?" she asked confused.

"Yeap" I told her with a chuckle.

"Damn Barnes, you must have been a pianist in other life" she said with a chuckle.

"What was the name of the song?" I asked her trying to remember.

"Spring Waltz. Chopin" She said with a sigh.

"How did you know the song anyway?" I asked her curious.

"This may sound fun, but I heard it too in a memory. Maybe I did ballet or something, I remember dancing with that song, so... I kind of listened a lot of music just to find it" she said with another sigh.

"Crazy, right? anyway, what happened in those dreams of yours? I mean, with such a beautiful song, for sure it's a happy tale, I guess" she said after few seconds.

"Yes, it is actually. it's me and my sister, Becca on a rainy day..." I told her, while my head was remembering that day.

And I don't know what happened, but in the morning, Wanda found us asleep on the piano. And that wasn't the only night, it was like that for over a full month (of course we didn't said what we were doing, afraid that Tony would say something about it). It was just the matter of time when some of them start asking us different questions, like Sam, that fucking bird.

'What's between you and Magento, huh?' was the common question from him. At first I would answer with 'why would there be a between?' but with the passing nights, I totally found myself confused.

Every dawn I was craving to see her, some nights I didn't have any nightmares, I just went to the damn piano to see her, to be with her in a little perfect bubble, there was when I realized, I was falling hard for the youngest Stark. But, I couldn't bring myself to do anything, what if she didn't want something more?, so I shut myself, trying to keep it as friends.

She is always with me at 3 in the morning, if it wasn't she just listening, she was actually telling me her nightmares or viceversa, I tried to teached her how to play piano, and so, she learned quickly.

So now, we are here, again at 3 in the morning, at the piano, while both of ours hands are in the keynotes. We managed to practice together the full month and well, here is the result, a beautiful piano piece played by the two of us. And I couldn't help myself, but move closer to her, she didn't seem to mind at all, after all her full concentration was on the melody and I was even more attracted to her, see her in this state, happy, loving what she made, it made my heart skip a bit.

And then, it's the pause of the song, she looked at me, with a tender smile, and a spark on her eyes, in less that 3 seconds she returned her gaze to the piano keys, but I didn't.

"What's wrong?" she asked me after she realized I wasn't playing anymore.

"Bucky?" She asked me once more when I didn't answer.

She turned her body to look at me and I couldn't help it, she was there, looking like the most beautiful dream I had in all my life. I don't know what was into me when I place a hand on her cheek, she was so soft. And I losted it when she smiled.

In matter of seconds my lips collided against hers with tenderness. Fuck, she was sweet, soft, better than my dreams, because she moved with me, of course she wanted it, she wanted me. Her hands made their way up until it tangled in my neck, bringing me closer to her.

We had to break the kiss when both of us needed air, I looked at her swollen lips, red and soft and a smile on them. Her eyes were looking at me, my hands somehow reached her waist and our forehead were touching, I had the most cheesy smile on my lips.

Finally I thought it will be the best chapter of my life with her on my side, but everything changed, because I destroyed it.

We tried to keep it as a secret, soon the piano nights turned into make-out sessions, that lasted at least a month and a half, it could have been more if Stark didn't had made this huge party, we could've last longer if Thor hasn't arrived with his Asgardian Liquor. But, it happened.

One of the famous Stark nights, a lot of people and many bottles of alcohol, music playing in the distance, couples dancing in formal dresses and she appeared in a long blue dark dress, I was so lost in her that I didn't realize the conversation between Clint and Sam, my eyes were focused on only her.

Soon after, we were dancing, I was holding her, she has holding me, her eyes full of love and tenderness, this was the most amazing moment of my life. We forgot about everyone around, it was just the music and the both of us swinging in the dance floor. And everything ended when Sam grabbed my arm, I excuse myself, promising I'll find her later.

That thing didn't happened as I planned, well I didn't even planned on getting drunk with Asgardian alcohol. That thing just made me a giant moron, a jerk. I didn't realize how drunk I was, I listened the same old piano song, Spring Waltz, the name she told me. I was in the dance floor but with the wrong partner, at the wrong time, at the wrong place.

My lips crashed violently with the girl on my arms. Her hands tugged my hair behind my neck, bringing me closer to her, and just in the same fucking pause of the song I realized, this weren't her lips, there wasn't this spark, what was I doing?. I broked the kiss and I saw her, Natasha Romanoff smiling widely at me.

My gaze drifted and I shouldn't have done that, she was there, standing alone in the dance floor, her eyes looking at me, and by now I knew her, I could read her like a book, I broked her. When she saw me in the eyes, she turned around and she made her exit. I tried to go after her, but Natasha held me in place. Next thing I saw, Steve went after her.

"Took you so long, Barnes" Natasha said with another smile and she crashed her lips with mines again.

The song finished and I was worried about her, I told Natasha the old excuse of 'I need to go to the bathroom' to go after her, but she wasn't in the party. I was going to leave when I felt a hand holding my arm, I turned around and I saw Tony.

"If you are the reason why she leaved, it's better that you don't go after her" said Tony with anger in his voice.

"I need to find her Tony, where is she?" I plead but all I could see in Tony's eyes were anger.

"Break her heart Barnes and I'll break your other arm" said Tony with a stern voice before he released me.

I went straight to her room, just to find the door closed, I was going to knock when I heard her sobs. She was crying hard, so hard it was breaking my fucking heart in million of pieces, and then there was another voice calming her, Steve.

I leaved her floor, my heart sunk by hearing Steve trying to calming her, there I knew, I lost her and there wasn't any power on Earth to make her forgive me. So I returned to the party, with Natasha and the others, Y/N and Steve, didn't came back.

Next morning the hangover didn't let me get up from the bed until it was 4 p.m. I decided it was better to try to talk to her, maybe I didn't lost her, maybe we could save things. I went straight to her bedroom, but she wasn't there. I went down to the kitchen, main room, gym, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Who are you looking for Bucky?" I heard Wanda's voice behind me.

"Y/N, have you seen her?" I asked her with hope, and she looked at me confused and then she realized.

"Oh, true, you weren't in the boardroom. Steve and Y/N took an undercover mission. They left an hour ago" Wanda said with a small smile.

"What? Why?, When are they going to return?" I asked her, all hoped leaved my body with that news.

"Well, it's an undercover mission Bucky, it can take months, I don't know... it's everything alright?" she asked me worried.

"I don't think so" I told her, my gaze looking at the floor.

At things weren't okay, at all. She left with Steve for three months, how it turned it worst?. When she returned with Steve she looked happy, she looked at he the way she used to look at me, that tender smile and lovely eyes. I knew I fucked everything, and I was paying her broken heart with mine.

Still, when she looked at me for first time in months, she gave me a small smile. Maybe I didn't deserve it after all, but she even hugged me when she saw me and I couldn't understand why.

Late at night she talked to me, indeed I hurt her, more than ever. But she wanted to keep being friends, she told I meant a lot to her, even after Tony's party, and for sure, she didn't want to lost me. Still, she was pretty clear at something, 'don't tell Steve about us or no one' there I knew, she fell for my best friend. I said nothing, I tried to hide the hurt with the fact that she wanted me still by her side.

So after that, it was hard to act normal when she was close, or when she saw Steve and smiled. Even after all of that I went to the piano and sometimes she came, we played the same song, but we didn't change a word, maybe some nights she talked about her nightmares again and I would told her some of mines. We were back again, to mostly strangers, I knew she was trying so hard to keep us together, but I couldn't bring myself too, I wanted her by my side but in other ways.

I did my best at hiding my emotions from her, at least the ones that involved love towards her. And soon a lot of my dreams were about her, her smile, her soft lips against mines. She was now part of my nightmares, a living one, everyday I saw how Steve and Y/N turn into lovers, something I craved.

So I let her go, she was part of me without a doubt, how I wished she was the girl I kissed at Tony's party, how I wished I was Steve in those moments, but I let her go, and soon after, our friendship returned, maybe I couldn't have her in like a lover but I prefered her to be my friend, that way she would be with me.

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier x reader #every you every me #sebastian stan x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #tony stark x reader #avengers x reader #masterlist #avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fic #steve rogers drabble #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #angst #song imagine

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ariciaeast-blog · 7 years

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T H E M U S I C R O O M;

ft the wonderful @princepercyschreave

“Is there a music room in this palace?” I asked my maids, turning to look at them, forgetting that they were fixing my hair.

“Lady Aricia!” one of them scolded, making me turn back to face the mirror. I saw my blonde locks were lightly curled, the opposite of what they normally were; pin straight. My maids had applied a light coat of makeup to my face, and got me dressed into a pale blue dress and blue ballet flats.

I asked my previous question again, and they all nodded, which made me happy. I havent played a piano since I was back home, and Liv ((ooc; Liv is her music loving friend from back home in Lakedon)) would not appreciate that I haven’t practiced at all.

I went through one of my suitcases, and pulled out a book of waltzes that I was learning from, then I started walking to the music room. Once I was in the hallway, I realized that I actually didnt know where the music room was. I shook my head at my stupidity, and made my way to ask an older looking guard.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said, walking up to him.

“Yes?” he asked, impatiently.

Wow, I guess somebody didn’t have patience

I resisted rolling my eyes at him, and asked, “Do you know where the music room is?”

He nodded, and gestured to go down the hallway, so I obliged, picking up the excess fabric from my dress and walking down the hallway. I kept walking down the hallway, peeking through all the doors, until I saw one with a piano inside.

Bingo!

I turned the knob of the door and walking in, making sure I wasn’t interrupting anyone else’s practice session. One thing I learnt from Liv was that musicians didnt like their practice interrupted.

When I walked in, I was in awe. The room was ornately decorated, with various instruments lining the walls, and a beautiful black concert grand piano in the middle of the room.

I made my way towards the piano, set my music down on the stand, and sat down, opening the book to the waltz that I was working on.

I flipped the pages, before landing on the ‘Waltz in B Minor, by Chopin’.

Perfect.

I ran my fingers over the ivory keys, playing the piece until i got lost into the rhythm of the music, until I reached a certain portion of the piece which I could not play. My playing stopped abruptly, and I tried playing the section that I was having difficulties with, but it was to no avail. No matter how I tried, I kept stumbling over that particular part.

“Ugh, this part isn’t working out the way I wan’t it to!” I exclaimed, and started over the piece.

While I was playing through my favourite part, I heard someone talking, but I ignored it, immersing myself into the music. Just then, I heard a throat clear, and I stopped playing to look up, and I saw Prince Percy standing by the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh hey, I was just looking for you,” he said, walking further into the room. before stopping by the piano.

I looked up at him, incredulously, “Oh, hi. You were looking for me?” I asked.

He nodded, “Of course, we never got to finish our conversation from yesterday”

I smiled, remembering our conversation, “Oh yeah, so what did you want to talk about?” I asked, pivoting on the bench to face him.

At that, his lazy grin had broke out into a full fledged smirk, “ I was just wondering...” he said, trying to draw my attention.

Well, you’ve got to try harder than that, Percy

I smirked back at him, “You were wondering?” I drawled, and laughed at the look on his face. It was a mixture of arrogance and.. something I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

“Would you like to go on a boat ride with me? On the family yacht sometime?” I asked, grinning with overconfidence.

Well, it would be a shame to end this charade! Lets keep it going for a bit longer...

I kept the smirk on my face, enjoying the dynamic between us, “oh, man, this is such a hard decision!” I exclaimed, gauging Percy’s reaction. His face was contorted into an arrogant smirk, his bluegreen eyes glimmering in amusement.

“Well if it’s such a hard decision, maybe I’ll just go,” he said, raising his eyebrows and turning around at the speed of a turtle.

I stood up, and let a loose chuckle pass through my lips, “Alright, Mr. Schreave, it’s not that hard of a decision,” I laughed, “I’ll go with you on this ‘boat ride’” I said, putting air quotations around ‘boat ride’, “But the better be the best part” I added, winking at the last part.

He turned around, his trademark smirk gracing his lips, “Great. And it will be”

I smiled, “Thats nice. So I heard you play the piano as well?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, running his hand over the roof of piano, smiling softly, “Yeah, a bit. So, what were you working on before?” he asked, looking back up at me, his eyes piercing through my own.

“Well, I have a friend back home named Olivia,” I started, “and she was a really good musician, so one day, she dared me to learn this piece in a month, and its called ‘Waltz in B Minor’, by Chopin, and I can play the entire thing, except for a small section!” I laughed, thinking about Olivia and the face she’d be giving me if I told her that I was talking to one of the Princes of Illea about the piano, “if it were anyone but her daring me, I may have given up, but to give her that satisfaction? Never”

He nodded, smiling, “Hmm, let me see if I can help,” he said, and sat down on the piano, skimming through the piece, then starting playing, and I was floored.

Wow

He played beautifully, paying attention to all the dynamics, tempo markings, and is feel was beautiful.

When he finished playing, he turned to look at me, “You’re trying to get something like this, right?” he asked, and I nodded, still in awe about his playing.

“Wow, you are really good! Well, I probably didn’t need to tell you that,” I said, laughing to distract him from the light blush that spread across my cheeks.

He looked shocked at me compliment, and smiled, “Really? I didn’t think that I did that well...” he trailed off, but then refocused, “Well, anyways, so what specifically do you need help on?” he asked

I turned to the score, and pointed to a section, “Well, in the second page, there is a fast section and the fingering is a bit weird. I was trying to figure out a better alternative but so far nothing has been working”

I nodded, analysing the score before turning to look back at me, “Hmm... why dont you try playing just that section really slowly first so you can get the hang of it?” he suggested.

I nodded, thinking about his fairly basic suggestion, before realising that he was right. I was throwing myself headfirst into the piece, so of course I wouldn’t be able to learn everything! I shook my head at myself, and turning to look at him.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll try it! Thanks! I’m so happy that the palace has a music room! I always had to go to my Liv’s house to practice because I didn’t own a piano of my own, I only have a guitar...” I trailed off, smiling about the memories of my life before the selection

He nodded, “Yeah, the piano here is pretty nice...”

I smiled, and decided that I’d try to get know him a bit more. There was something elusive about him that I wanted to figure out.

“So, how are you feeling about the selection so far?” I asked, “It must be weird having 35 random girls walking around your house...” I trailed off, trying to judge his reaction, and from the smirk that quickly overtook his features, I guessed that he had no problems with that many girls walking around his house.

“I think its been pretty sweet so far,” he drawled, winking at me.

I smirked, rolling my eyes at my assumption being correct. “That sounds great for you,” I said, laughing.

He nodded, “it is pretty great”

I smiled, trying to get to the bottom of this prince, “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Percy! Are you really like what everyone says? Or is there more to the man behind the mask” I said, with a smile.

He shrugged, “I like to think I’m a pretty open book. What you see is what you get.” he said, nonchalantly.

I smirked, “Thats nice, so what do I get then?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise at where my flirty behaviour was coming from.

He smirked back at me, making me feel like I was in a chick flick, “That depends, what do you want?” I asked, lowering his voice.

I laughed at the irony of my position. Two months ago, if you told me that I would be flirting with one of the princes of Illea, I’d have probably asked you if you were drunk. But now... “That depends on what you’re willing to give me” I said, with a wink.

His eyes glittered with amusement, as he said, “For now... a private boat ride in the family yacht”

I grinned, “Alright, that sounds wonderful” I exclaimed, smoothing down the front of my dress, trying to calm my nerves. Who could predict that my first ever date would be with none other than Percy Schreave? Certainly not me.

“So...” he started, directing my attention back to him, “The boat ride. Does three days from now sound good? I need at least a little time to arrange things.”

I nodded, smiling, “That sounds great! I’ll be counting the days, Mr. Schreave”

He smiled back a genuine smile, “I’ll see you then” he said, his eyes lingering on mines for a second too long before walking away. When the door closed, I released the breath I didn’t know that I’d been holding.

Wow

I shook my head, trying to clear away the daze that I had been in, and turned back to the piano. As I played some more pieces, and walked up to my room to prepare for dinner, there was one thought that never left my mind;

Percy

#and its done!#music room fic #princepercyschreave #ariciaeast #percy schreave #aricia east #pericia #guyss this is for all the pericia shippers #thanks for your support #much love!#i had fun writing this and fun rping so thanks alex!!#aricia writes #music room #((ooc like this is the closest thing ive come to flirting so im glad it came out well!))#((ive never flirted with anyone like thats so sad lolol #((and im an actual piano nerd in real life and wayy better than aricia lolol so if you everwant to talk about music and stuff ooc then im in #((like im so tired though #((im doing extra credit in july so that starts tuesday))#((and im doing my music history course online and theres so much work like its supposed to be summer like how could i do this to myselffff))#((anyways ill stop rambling now))#((thanks for reading!!))

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