#beginner pianist

[r3d-m3dic]

I can barely play left hand, so we just get right hand 👍

The Hero

[maisiejanescripts]

hey, saw your post on the aros and aces community and thought I'd ask:

What's your songwriting process?

What instrument(s) do you play?

I write songs and I love it when I find other songwriterss agfddgshdd

have a nice day! <3

HELLO HI

For your first question, I sometimes write my songs out and plan how I want them to sound, and other times I’ll just be strumming random chords and go, “wait…am I cooking something right now?”, and boom. an entire song flows from me.

To answer your second question, I play, acoustic and electric guitar, piano, ukulele, and a teeny bit of the mandolin.

Thank you so much for this ask!!! I’m so sorry it took so long to answer!!

(I also love meeting fellow songwriters!! *waves excitedly*)

[dykebluejay]

i’m not gonna lie if you haven’t listened to carnival of the animals with context for all the little musical jokes in there you’re missing out frfr

[thevalleyisjolly]

One side effect of studying piano pedagogy is that whenever I watch a show or movie or video where someone is sitting at the piano and they're supposed to be a relatively experienced musician, I am obligated to be insufferable about their hand and body position. Girl, how are you going to get the range of motion to play octave chords fortissimo when your elbows are glued to the side of your ribs. It's your knees that are supposed to be just under the edge of the keyboard, not your bench. Those fingers are just too flat for the scale passages that the soundtrack says you're playing. Is that a slouch-

[chewwytwee]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. People need to become more comfortable with making bad art, and people need to be more comfortable with accepting that their art isn’t good. I’m sorry, but sometimes art looks objectively bad (at least as far as the artist is unable to conceive of their artistic vision), and instead of constantly handwaving negativity and brushing critical feelings under the rug people need to develop skills to cope with and progress from those feelings. The VAST majority of art ‘advice’ I see pass across my dash is really just art positivity, where the takeaway isn’t any valuable information, but rather an admonishment for not being kind enough to themselves and corrections you can make to your behavior. It sidesteps the problem ‘I am unfamiliar with art’ and jumps right to addressing the symptom ‘I feel bad I’m unable to create what I want to create’. Instead of working to improve artistic skill and familiarity with creative tools, it tells the reader that they need to work to re-think their conception of artistic quality. There should be space for both of those conversations but they don’t exist to the exclusion of the other. Most art spaces online attempt to create an encouraging space through enforcement of post-over rules and discouraging critical feedback, but inadvertently creates incentives for people to write insubstantial filler so they can post their own work which discourages people who’s art isn’t as impressive or noteworthy because all of their feedback is platitudes. Art communities are consumed by a fear of alienating beginners, but falsely believe that beginners will be alienated by critical feedback and don’t realize that most beginners feel alienated by stagnation and uncertainty. Feeling bad at a skill feels much better than feeling as if you are incapable of improving at that skill, and the shallow insistence of magical thought as a substitute for practice is a self fulfilling prophecy which will make it so.

[catsseidrinkandparchment]

PHianonize

To all you pianist teaching yourselves to play: I have come a super long way using PHianonize. I get that it's not for everyone, but it is such a great YouTube channel for someone who just wants to play the song that's stuck in their head.

(this isn't an ad)

[kids-worldfun]

Building Foundations: Essential Skills Covered in Beginner Piano Lessons for Kids

Music is a great teacher. It opens our creative minds and enhances critical thinking. It also helps cultivate discipline and builds communication skills. With all the social, intellectual, and cognitive benefits music education delivers, it’s no wonder parents sign their kids up for music lessons as early as possible. The piano is often their instrument of choice. This guide helps you understand…

[mirohtron]

HE KNEW?! OH MY GAWD

OF COURSE CLASSICAL MUSIC IS THE WAY TO ANY GUY'S HEART

Your bsf also knew 😫🥺 Are you still as close?

HELPPP no yeah i told him bcs like the way my crush on him began was funny asf . but then like . i never told him the story . so it just stayed there super stagnant. 💀💀💀💀 we're chill tho

[eleischamusic]

💿 V Taehyung 'Rainy Days' [EASY] Piano Cover Tutorial #PracticeWithEL♡ 🎹 #V #rainydays #뷔 #V_Layover #BTS #BTSARMY #btstae #btstaehyung #KimTaehuyng #kimtaehyungbts #kimtaehyungv #Taehyung #taetae #pianotutorial #piano #pianocoversong #pianocover #pianomusic #pianist #pianistlife #beginner #beginnerfriendly #tutorialreels #tutorial #tutorials #tutorialvideo #tutorialreels #coversongs #cover #pianolessons #pianolessonsforkids #pianolessonsforbeginners #pianolessonsforadults #pianolessonsonline #pianosolo #summer #summer2023 #shotsviral #shorts #shortstory #shortsvideos #shortsfeed #musician

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

39 and 55 for Tav/Astarion? OH AND I LOVE WANT IT ALL, YOUR WRITING IS IMPECCABLE ‼️<3

Prompt(s): leaning into the other’s side + tracing the lines on the other’s hand

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

There really was nothing like being pleasantly tipsy while in good company. Your party was in good spirits, the night was warm and, for once, danger was something that happened to other people. 

Eventually everyone had shuffled off to bed, leaving you and Astarion leaning against each other as the fire crackled on.  Your thoughts floated in front of you, swimming lazily in the air. Everything was just so lovely, especially the other hand in yours.  You couldn’t help but run your fingers across the lines, smiling as you made a study of every angle.  

“See something you like,” Astarion asked, amused.  He was decidedly more sober than you and appeared content to stay that way. 

You nodded idly. “You have beautiful hands. I bet you’d make a wonderful pianist.”

He gave a low laugh, shaking you slightly with the effort. 

“What?”

“Oh nothing,” he said, grinning. “You just might be the only person I know who could study a man’s hands and think only of their musical capabilities.” 

You stared confused, before a sinking rush of embarrassment flooded your stomach.

“Oh.”

He laughed again, turning just enough to kiss your temple. “Just teasing darling. Although I do love that color on your cheeks.”

“Serves me right for trying to give you a compliment,” you said, pouting. 

“Oh don’t be like that. I relish them all.” 

You huffed in childish annoyance, which only seemed to humor him. He then raised your entwined hands to the firelight, narrowing his gaze as if to examine them himself. 

“Do you think I’d actually be good?” he asked as a peace offering. 

You let out a sigh. There really was no use trying to stay annoyed with him. 

“Capability is there,” you allowed, “provided you have a very, very patient teacher.”

“Are you offering?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re interested.”

“Depends if you’re offering,” he repeated, with a sly smile. 

You didn’t answer right away, scrunching your face in exaggerated thought. 

“Maybe not piano,” you concluded. “There’s only so far the blind can lead the blind.”

He nodded in understanding. “How about the violin?”

Again, you considered before shaking your head. “Too difficult for a beginner. Lute isn’t bad though.”

He gave a dismissive scoff. “Overdone. The lyre, perhaps?”

“Bit on the nose don’t you think?”

His brows furrowed, his lips pursing in consideration. “A lyre and a player…Yes, I suppose you’re right. The jokes just write themselves. Flute?”

You shrugged. “Never learned actually.”

“Really?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “Pan pipes.”

“No.”

“Horns?”

“No to all wind instruments. I think it comes down to mechanics. I never saw the appeal of having to put my lips together and blow.” 

You glanced up at Astarion, keen to watch his reaction. 

He stared at you for a long second, a look of utter confusion on his face. His eyes then widened as a loud laugh barked from his lips. 

You broke that same instant, dissolving into giggles. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” he said, trying and failing to get a hold of himself. “Gods that was awful!” 

“But effective,” you pointed out, grinning. 

He gave another short laugh before shaking his head. “What have I gotten myself into with you?”

“Having regrets?”A wicked smirk flashed across his face. “Far from it, darling.” He then leaned in close, his eyes alight with conspiracy and mirth. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 7: Potential

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 3856 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

A cheerful, badly played melody bounced within the dark walls of the castle. For a couple of hours, seemingly random notes sang a song that Sukuna knew perfectly well. One by one, it slowly played. The lovely song lightly drifted into the busy king's office. Usually, he liked to keep the door closed so that no one would disturb him while he worked, but since a pretty musician was playing, he didn't mind listening to the beautiful melody despite the mistakes.

Sukuna stretched his six limbs over the mahogany desk after a long day of reading and doing tedious paperwork. It was a necessary task to keep abreast of what was going on in the kingdom. Every decision he made only favored him, but being a curse, it gave his own race an advantage over humans. Nimbly, he stacked the documents on their respective shelves to finish for the day. He was the only one who could touch his desk, as his greatest secrets were kept there.

Sukuna prowled throughout the corridors, his footsteps echoing to the rhythm of the melody playing in the background. It was important to stretch the legs after spending a full day sitting down. The music gradually intensified as he approached the game room. Taking his time to enjoy the song more. He peeked through the open door to watch you carefully. There you were, in front of the giant piano as you stared at the beginner piano book you had borrowed from the library.

You had always wanted to learn to play the piano. When your mother used to take you to dances, you always loved watching the musicians move their fingers nimbly and elegantly on their shiny instruments. There was something about the pianists that caught your attention, maybe it was the way they swayed their bodies to the music or their intense focus. Whatever it was, it was fascinating how their hands could produce such magic. Unfortunately, you were from a modest family, so you could never get near a piano. Not until you started serving Sukuna.

The first time you entered the game room, your eyes sparkled at the sight of the magnificent black piano that sat mysteriously in the far corner. You were supposed to clean the library, but admiring the piano for a moment wouldn’t hurt. You approached it cautiously, inches away from the majestic instrument. Your fingers caressed the perimeter of the soundboard, and you smiled to yourself as you carefully admired it. Curiosity led you to inspect its interior, and you touched one of the strings, eliciting a short sound. You quickly pulled your hand away, worried someone might hear you wasting time. Glancing at the door, you waited to see if anyone would peek in to check who had disturbed the icy silence of the castle. Fortunately, no one noticed.

As soon as the king announced you as the winner of this year's hunt, you knew what you would spend on your week off. Every day, after breakfast, you would head to the game room to find the grand piano you had fallen in love with at first sight. You would read the beginner's manual, repeat the exercises to the best of your understanding and then rest your fingers for a while. Your free time was spent reading books that caught your attention, even though you didn’t understand half of the complex vocabulary. It wasn’t that you couldn’t read, but the intricacy of the texts was challenging. When you didn't want to play the piano or read, you would look for Mrs. Inoue to help her with some of her homework.

Sukuna had noticed your peculiar routine during your week off. Despite having received a wonderful week off from work, you were in the playroom practicing piano, trying to read complex texts or helping the other servants finish their work. Whenever you tried to help Mrs. Inoue, he always stayed in the shadows, watching you argue with your old friend. You would ask him to let you help and Mrs. Inoue would refuse your kind offers because you deserved a break. It didn't matter if it was hanging blankets in the sun, peeling vegetables or dusting vases, you wanted to help your companions, but they would end up running you out of the room. Sukuna was amused to see you return to the playroom, frustrated at your desire to be productive. You were hardworking, and that was both your best and worst quality.

Your fingers descended one by one on the piano as you stuck out your tongue in concentration. Although you often made mistakes, the song you were trying to play didn't sound too bad. Sukuna could follow the rhythm you had established in the room. Your body moving from side to side mesmerized him like a flirtatious snake in a pretty basket. The temptation to come closer until you released the bite was irresistible. You lost in your musical world until you heard the door open.

“King Sukuna,” you whispered in surprise when you saw who it was. You stood up and bowed out of fear and respect. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, I…". You immediately defended yourself, worried you had disturbed him with the noise.

“Keep playing," he ordered as he approached you.

You didn't expect that answer at all, but you obeyed immediately. You returned to the position where you left the song. Sukuna sat next to you on the stool as he watched you play. Your breathing altered and your fingers began to tremble as you felt his imposing presence so close. You were making more mistakes now than before. You had to concentrate to satisfy the king's ear.

“I'm sorry, I'm not very good,” you apologized between stutters, without taking your eyes off the piano.

“I can see that," Sukuna said bluntly. It felt like a punch to your ego, but you didn't give up trying to please him. “Not bad for a beginner.” You smiled softly at the half compliment.

Sukuna watched you for a while before deciding to take possession of the piano. While you played the melody, he helped you with the chords. Little by little you merged in the music and the intimacy of the moment. Your fingers moved in tandem to create the same piece. At times, your skins brushed fleetingly against each other, dangerously close to wanting to do something beyond just touching. Your heart fluttered endlessly and there was no way you could stop it.

The king was a magnificent pianist. With four hands and incredible hand-eye coordination, it was clear he excelled. He could play any piece of music he set his mind to with ease and elegance. You were so amazed by his skills that, without realizing it, you stopped playing just to listen to him. As soon as your hands moved away from the keys, Sukuna stopped.

“What's wrong?” he asked, confused.

“The song sounds better without me,” you answered, ashamed of not being able to keep up with him. Sukuna took both of your hands with his left arms to subtly place them on the keys again.

“Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” Sukuna promised, waiting for you to play again.

There was something in that sentence that stuck with you. You knew he was talking about a simple piano song, but your heart had been left with the impression that he was referring to you. You smiled broadly before playing again. Sukuna couldn't help but be infected by your smile. He faced away to prevent you from seeing the effect you were having on him. This was the perfect opportunity to ask you something that has been plaguing his mind for the past few months.

“You seem to like spending time with me," he said, glancing at you to see your reaction.

“I was afraid before, but I have gotten used to being around you,” you answered without taking your eyes off the book held by the lectern.

You were sure that Sukuna treated you differently from the other servants and liked that. It made you feel unique and special. Although, it could also terrify you and leave you frozen. However, you loved spending time with him. Whether it was tidying his room or washing his hair, being in his presence stimulated you mentally and physically. You couldn't help but want more of what was allowed, the forbidden fruit in the eternal garden.

“What do you think about spending more time with me?” Sukuna asked you, hiding his nervousness about what was coming.

“What do you mean?”

“Marry me.”

Your fingers fell on the keys, causing a shrill sound. You interrupted the song to realize the situation. "Did I hear that right?" you wondered in shock. Your head turned slowly to face him. Sukuna was looking at you with a poker face. He looked like he was serious.

“Me? With you?” you asked between nervous stutters.

“No, with the piano.” Sukuna answered sarcastically. You looked at the piano in disbelief. “Of course with you, dumbass,” Sukuna laughed, offended that you were paying attention to the piano in the middle of an important conversation.

“What? Why? I'm just a servant,” you replied nervously before getting up from the stool to process the situation you were suddenly pushed into.

“Are you going to refuse your king's generous offer?” Sukuna challenged you. Your eyes widened at the question.

“Of course not. I couldn't,” you said so he wouldn't take it as an act of rebellion, still confused.

A blush seeped into your face. You knew the king liked you to a certain extent. You never thought he felt so strongly about you…if he did. It was common for people to marry for the benefits that came along with the papers. Social status, sex in excess, and access to wealth were things your mother talked about every time she instigated the concept of marriage to you and your sisters. The thing was, you had none of those things. Social status? 0. You were just a slave who was treated well. Excessive sex? No idea about that. You were more virgin than olive oil. Wealth? You're lucky your mother received money for you, she would have sold you for a sack of potatoes. In your eyes, you had nothing of value to offer him.

Sukuna approached you and grabbed your chin so you could look him in the eye. A small touch that made your breath hitch. He could read the insecurity in your eyes. It was funny. A week ago you had jumped into his arms from a deadly height without a second thought, but here you were, hesitating to marry the person you were meant to serve with your life. Sometimes he wondered where your moral line was.

“So? What’s stopping you?” Sukuna asked.

“I want to know what will happen once I accept,” you explained.

“I didn’t expect less.” Sukuna thought, satisfied. He knew that you were wiser than you looked. You knew you didn’t have where to run. It was written in stone that you would marry him, but you didn’t understand what that entailed. Sukuna approached one of the bookshelves to pull out a map. You got close to the table where he extended it. Small particles of dust flew like tiny fairies that shined against the light coming from the skylight. You had seen maps before, but never such detailed one. It had a golden edge and the representation of every castle was a tiny art piece.

“You see, I've been thinking about it a lot and I've come to the conclusion that someday I'm going to leave this earth,” he explained with great disappointment in his own mortal body. “So someone must take my place to rule the lands that belong to me.”

Sukuna pointed to the western part of the world in which they live. On a large peninsula was the kingdom of Sukuna, the only thing separating them from the rest of the world were huge mountain ranges. On the other side, there was the great kingdom of Jogo that was divided into small kingdoms that were owned by other curses… or well, they were owned by other curses until Sukuna conquered them. Now all the kingdoms of the west coast were his. He only needed to conquer the rest of the kingdoms that were ruled under human hands like the Satoru and Zen'in kingdom.

“Uraume could do that,” you commented.

“That was my first idea, but Uraume is… too tenuous. They could never rule with an iron fist,” he explained without taking his eyes off the map. “I need to know that the person who will own all this will do a good job maintaining and expanding my legacy.”

“Do you think I can do it?” you asked in amazement.

“You?” Sukuna chuckled under his breath before looking at you. “Never. If Uraume is dim, you are harmless. You're as innocent as a little white rabbit from the prairies,” he said with a mischievous grin before grabbing you by the chin, one of his claws pointed at your jugular. One false move and he could rip it off with no issue.

You were completely at his mercy, how could you not be? He tripled you in everything. Size, power, intellect, evil… He had you beat in every possible way and there was nothing you could do about it. You were light years away if you had the stupid idea of reaching him, which you weren't even sure you wanted to do in the first place. You would never have the guts to even try to keep up with him.

“I need someone strong and a born leader.” That last word made you understand where this was all going. “I need an heir.”

Your eyes snapped open as your quick hypothesis was confirmed. "Having a child… with him?" you wondered as you saw the king for his race for the first time in a long time. He could behave like a ruthless human, but he was still an impressive monster. You didn't know if you were capable of giving him what he wanted.

“For that, I need you to become a queen to the level of being able to educate the next great mighty one who will be in charge of this great nation I will be forming until my time runs out,” he explained before rolling up the map to its original form. “Is that clear?”

“You still haven't answered my initial question,” you answered as you watched him put the map back in its place. “Why me? There are plenty of princesses out there who already have everything it takes to give an heir.”

“I can’t risk it,” Sukuna sighed, still turning his back to you. Her tattoos framed her shoulder blades beautifully under the translucent fabric. “Do you think one of those princesses would want to be with such a disgusting being like me?” You felt the need in your chest to say something.

“You are not a disgusting being,” you contradicted. Sukuna looked at you with a small smile escaping from his lips.

“Thank you, but I know what I'm talking about and I don't mind in the least,” he said before patting you on the head a couple of times. A fleeting act, but it set your body on fire. “If I kidnap any of them and take their bodies by force, they can kill the baby when I'm not looking,” he left his hand on your head and lowered his gaze to connect with yours. “You, on the other hand, I know you wouldn't be capable of such an atrocity, would you?”

He was absolutely right. Your mother had raised you for the simple but tedious purpose of being a good housewife and raising a rich man's children. Your life had been manufactured to do what the king was asking of you and you would do it perfectly.

“You are docile, obedient and attentive to my commands. I trust you will give me a strong heir and you will do everything necessary to satisfy me with the result,” he said as he examined your reaction. “And I will reward you greatly for it. If you accept, I will fill you with more luxuries and riches than you can dream of, take you to places you have never seen before and give you the most comfortable life in the world.”

Sukuna removed the hand on your head to see you from above as he used to do, a manipulation technique to make you feel smaller than you already were. If you refused, he would kill you. You knew it. His back was against the wall, but you were willing to do whatever it would take to be useful to him.

“Well? What do you say?”

“I agree. I will do whatever you ask gracefully,” you said before bowing to him out of respect.

A big smile appeared on his face. He had already done the hard part of his long term plan: finding a woman willing to be the mother of his children without complaining. He congratulated himself in his mind for accomplishing such a feat by having in his hands what he needed to lengthen his legacy. As pleased as he was, they still had a long road ahead of them.

“There is only one thing I need to know if you are really on my side,” Sukuna said with a mischievous smile. You arched an eyebrow at that unspoken part of the verbal contract. “I know you are loyal to me, but are you loyal enough?”

“What do you need me to do, my king?” You asked in confusion.

“You must kill one of your own kind.”

Your eyes widened after hearing that. It had never crossed your mind to do something as vile as that. You remembered all the blood spilled, the flesh cut off and the lives lost in front of your eyes during the 11 months you had been living with the king. You thought he was the one who would be in charge of doing that. You were not a murderer. Why should you do it? The question really was: Could you do it? You weren't sure, but you had to.

“As I now understand that this is against your nature. I will give you two months to process it and do it. As a test, I want you to deliver your head into my hands. Once you complete your task, I will ask you to marry me and we will begin trying for a child.”

You came back from your trip from shock to reality when you heard that he would propose to you. Something every girl your age yearns for with all their heart and soul. If your mother had heard that, she'd be dancing with excitement. Not giving a damn about the dastardly condition that came with it. You could already hear her screaming, "Do it, do it! It's our chance to get out of the shit!" You shook her voice from your mind and focused from what was in front of you. You tightened your skirt from the nerves of accepting something like that. You had no idea how to do it. You were just supposed to give someone's life, not take it away.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Good,” Sukuna pronounced satisfied before turning around to leave the room. You swallowed dryly before finding a seat.

“What did I get myself into?” You whispered as you hid in your hands.

The faint bells rang at 10 o'clock at night. Curfew for all servants. Everyone headed to the dungeon to sleep. You ran as fast as you could to catch up with the others in time. You knew that the servant who stayed outside would sleep with the curses. You had stayed the rest of the day in the game room trying to come up with a plan to kill someone, but your mind couldn't come up with one. You knew you had to kill one of the servants, since you doubted the king would let you leave the castle, but your chicken heart couldn't decide on a victim. You quickly reached the dungeon, ready to go to rest when a monotonous voice stopped you.

“Where are you going?” Uraume asked you as they checked the attendance list to make sure all the servants had already entered the cold dormitory.

“To sleep?” You answered confused.

“Follow me," they asked before lowering the bars of the dungeon.

You followed Uraume through the dark corridors of the castle. Corridors you recognized as the visiting rooms that were never used because the king never invited anyone to the castle. Uraume led you to the back room, a place you had never entered before. Your heart and eyes twitched curious to know what was on the other side. Elle pulled out a bunch of keys to open the heavy wooden door. On the other side, there was a beautiful room with a king-sized bed with silk sheets and curtains posing softly at the sides. You slowly stepped into the new environment to inspect it closely. It was larger than the rooms you had cleaned before. There was a giant closet with beautiful dresses hanging on padded hangers, a wooden dresser with a drawer full of jewelry, and a sleek quartz bathroom. Most impressive of all was the giant picture window in front of the bed. A bloody rose with tiny green thorns posed between navy blue and black glass.

“The king commissioned me to make this room especially for you. I hope it is to your liking.”

Uraume analyzed you as you sat on the bed to look out the window. They still remembered the day the king had asked him to make a special one that was on the level of a princess. She asked him who it was specifically for, but he refused to answer for the moment. At the time, they never thought it would be for you. They knew it had not been an easy decision. He had to take into account all the pros and cons that came with marrying and having a child with someone from the low class as you. Still, King Sukuna had finally decided to put you in training after months of cold thought.

“It is beautiful. Thank you, Uraume,” you smiled at them.

“Rest. The king is expecting you tomorrow at breakfast,” they bowed respectfully to you and closed the door behind him.

Seeing Uraume bowing like that surprised you as you were not used to it. You lay back on the bed to admire the small stars hand-painted with white paint on the stone ceiling. You smiled as you imagined Uraume painting them one by one with dedication. "The king commissioned this room for me, eh?" you thought as it dawned on you that he had in mind to marry you for a while. Your heart fluttered so much from excitement that it made you forget all responsibilities for a second.

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Masterlist.

[blossom-hwa]

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre:  fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.  

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[bunny-lily]

☾ Gojo Satoru

Lift a Pen and Rewrite the Ending ♥ fluff, pianist!Gojo x piano teacher!Reader ♥ You taught piano. Plain, simple, easy. At least, you thought so before meeting an enigmatic man as your next student. He played a little too well for a beginner, and seemed a little too familiar.

Satoru, who... ♥ fluff, marriage, pregnancy, kinda slice-of-life ♥ The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

Tether Me - [FIN] prologue | ch: 1 | ch: 2 | ch: 3 | ch: 4 | ch: 5 - 1 | ch: 5 - 2 ♥ poly stsg x reader, fluff, light angst, slow burn, eventual smut ♥ You ran, because it was all you knew how to do. If you didn't run, it meant you were trapped. But, how could you run after meeting two gravitational forces? ...Would you?

[muffythemuffin-bp]

Does anyone care about my art?

I do shit because others give me motivation so for once, I would like to base things on myself and not other fandoms just to get attention.

Let me know, for whoever is reading this.

I am an artist, beginner animator, beginner music producer, opera singer, pianist, quadrobist, beginner logo designer and beginner motion graphics maker.

[de-sterren-nacht]

The names of the main story stages in Lingering Echoes are all taken from classical compositions.

LE-ST-1 Grande valse brilliante: Chopin's Grande valse brilliante, 1833

LE-1 Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka: Strauss's Tritsch-Tatsch-Polka, 1858

LE-2 Appassionata, ou Pathétique: Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 23 ("Appassionata"), 1807, and No. 8 ("Pathétique"), 1799

LE-3 Der Freischütz: Weber's opera Der Freischütz, 1821

LE-4 Surprise: Haydn's Symphony No. 94 (the "Surprise Symphony"), 1791

LE-ST-2 The Rite of Spring: Stravinsky's La Sacre du printemps, 1913

LE-5 Moonlight: Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 (the "Moonlight Sonata"), 1802

LE-6 Danse Macabre: Saint-Saëns's Danse macabre, 1875

LE-7 Verklärte Nacht: Shoenberg's Verklärte Nacht, 1899

LE-8 Schicksals: Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 (the "Schicksals-Sinfonie"), 1808

LE-ST-3 From the New World: Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 ("From the New World"), 1893

The tutorial stages are both named after works by Carl Czerny, a pupil of Beethoven's, a teacher of many famous pianists and the namesake of operator Czerny, intended to be used in teaching new pianists.

LE-TR-1 Op. 599: Czerny's Practical Exercises for Beginners (opus number 599), 1839

LE-TR-2 Op. 849: Czerny's 30 Études de mécanisme (opus number 849), 1856

[skenisasleb]

Teddison and Oliver in:

The Phantom of the Opera

AU/Spinoff idea for Ted and Oliver

Roles

Oliver as Erik (Phantom of the Opera)

Ted as Christine (Called Teddison in the AU)

Story

For clarification, I am not try to follow the story of The Phantom of the Opera by every detail. There are many similarities, but this is my own OC adaptation of it.

The story follows Teddison as he gets sent away by his father to study and become a renowned pianist. Teddison’s family line has been filled with famous musicians throughout time, and Teddison seems to be the only one who sucks absolute ass at it, being only halfway decent at the piano.

Teddison’s father sends him to multiple destinations, one of them being a historical monument, an opera where the death of a child prodigy pianist died from a falling chandelier accident.

On the tour, Teddison hears the beautiful, melodic and sad playing of a piano in the alcoves below the opera. No one else in the tour group seems to hear it but him. Straying away from the group; Teddison finds Oliver, playing alone in the alcoves.

Oliver isn’t a deformed man like the original tPotO, he is an actual ghost who haunts the ground below his death site. Having no one else to talk to and with Teddison being a beginner pianist himself, Oliver takes Teddison on as his protégé and eventually ends up falling in love with the boy.

Oliver does have deformity, but it is the result of the way he died and how the fatal blow stayed with his soul in its external form.